#find yoursel

[prouvaireafterdark]

listen I know it's heartbreaking that Claudia dies and it's understandable to wish she didn't, but let's please not accuse the writers of fridging her. to do so is a fundamental misunderstanding of the story and is frankly insulting to the intelligence and skill of the writers of the show.

Claudia's death, and the overwhelming grief and regret her parents experience because of it, is quite literally the point of the entire story. she dies because Anne's daughter Michele died of leukemia when she was five years old and there was nothing she or her husband could do to prevent it.

writing IWTV was how Anne coped with the unimaginable loss of a parent losing her child. she created a story about a little girl that could not die and then killed her anyway. Claudia's death is a senseless, unavoidable tragedy, just like Michele's was. the grief that haunts Louis and Lestat for the rest of their lives is the same grief that haunted Anne and her husband.

so when you're accusing people of killing Claudia off to benefit a story about two men, please remember that in real life sometimes parents lose their children. please remember Michele Rice.

she's the reason Claudia exists.

she's also the reason Claudia cannot be saved.

[caterpillarinacave]

Who needs a GPS when you’ve got a Frederick

[lettersiarrange]

All of your "fun facts" are either outright brags, kind of weird and personal, or just kind of boring. That's why people don't like doing it.

I mean, I'm sorry you don't like sharing fun facts about yourself, that sucks esp when "fun facts" are a pretty common thing when getting to know people in a group setting.

IMO, the point of a "fun fact" is to help people get to know you a bit and to share something memorable about yourself so you stand out when getting to know a bunch of ppl at once. Sharing something weird or impressive is a good way to accomplish that.

I'm also confused about your logic here. So you're not allowed to say something cool/an accomplishment (that's bragging), you're not allowed to talk about your family (your # of siblings is apparently uncomfortably personal), god forbid you say something weird, and you can't say something normal because that's, apparently, boring. What exactly IS an acceptable thing to say? Kind of sounds like there's no correct answer.

Honestly, if someone hears me share a fun fact in a group setting and ends up thinking I'm weird/full of myself: cool. we've immediately established that we don't vibe. we don't have to awkwardly discover that 10 minutes into a conversation that's going increasingly downhill. we know our personalities clash and we've saved ourselves time. you don't have to vibe with everyone.

Personally, I'm not sitting around analyzing everyone's fun facts. I'll probably forget them in 10 seconds unless they're particularly cool/strange/unexpected. The point is just to get people talking and give them a chance to make an initial impression in a room full of strangers. Unless you say something wildly inappropriate, the worst case scenario is that you're forgettable, or people don't immediately vibe with 0.001% of your life. Pretty low stakes.

I don't know if I've ever initiated fun facts in a group setting, and it's certainly not a hill I care about dying on, but I do think it's pretty wild that you hate them so much that you felt compelled to tell me that mine suck. But, much like a fun fact, this short interaction gave us the opportunity to establish an initial impression of you: you're kind of rude!

Best of luck navigating the dreaded "fun facts" conversation in your future life. Hope you make a better first impression next time, lest strangers think of you unflatteringly for even a single moment.

[the-pea-and-the-sun]

okay collecting terms for mixed sex traits in animals (and plants) as theyre most commonly used (that i could find) for me to refer back to. this isnt me telling anyone how to use these terms, this is just how it looks like these terms are used, and generally how im gonna try and make use out of them myself. im not doing any real science, im just doing speculative biology, so the terms being useful is more important to me than them being strictly accurate. but if u disagree let me know! scientific definitions are where linguistic descriptivism can get a little difficult, so id like to know if anyone else who's more scientifically inclined has associations with these words i dont know about

cosexual (cosexuality) is used for organisms possessing both sexual reproductive capabilities. its more often used for the simultaneous kind, but can also be used for the sequential kind. its "default" usage is for the simultaneous kind, so its best to just specify. the term "sequential cosexuality" isnt really in circulation yet, but searching it WILL get you articles about it, so its perfectly clear.

dioecy and monoecy are used pretty much like (simultaneous) cosexuality and gonochorism are used, except ((generally)) for plants. they're sometimes still used in zoology, especially for invertebrate animals. basically the only cosexual/monoecious vertebrates that exist however are fish, so the vertebrate/invertebrate distinction isnt super useful. you might as well have a word specifically for non-gonochoristic fish and then another word for non-gonochoristic everything else. also dioecy is not to be confused with dichogamy, as i kept getting it confused. basically dioecy is analogous to gonochorism, monoecy is analagous to simultaneous cosexuality, and dichogamy is analgous to sequential cosexuality. also the distinction between dichogamy and hermaphroditism as one being for plants and the other being for animals seems to be more distinct, for some reason.

basically we have separate words for sex systems of animals and plants, except when we don't. this kind of makes sense the way ive actually seen them get used, as for some articles the distinction literally doesn't matter. also... fungi... it makes just as much sense to distinct between fungi and animals or fungi and plants as it does between plants and animals but we just don't do that. so there aren't really strict definitions for any of these terms, and they all seem to be generally (but definitely not exclusively!) associated with plants.

however i found this (super short!) article that argues for the use of a new, broader term, and i really like it! gonosimulism functions as a contrast to the term gonochorism, which is the sexual system humans and other animals have where there are two sexes necessary for reproduction with some intersex variation. it would also allow for the adjectives "simultaneous" and "sequential" to be used, which are adjectives that were/are applied to the term hermaphrodite. (not that you can't use these for the word cosexuality, but when you use the word by itself it's often taken as a given that you're talking about the simultaneous kind) gonosimulism as the broader term, and then sequential gonosimulism and simultaneous gonosimulism as the more specific terms feels the most useful to me personally. i also like that its specifically a contrast to the sexual system humans have, like the two terms specifically cannot exist together as they're direct antonyms of eachother, whereas i could imagine the term cosexual being misappropriated to apply to species that exhibit gonochorism (that is, humans with certain intersex characteristics). gonosimulism specifically describes a sexual system humans DONT have, which makes it a particularly nice replacement term to me. it's really just the most accurate.

when you google the term though, this article is the only thing that comes up, whereas when you google "simultaneous cosexuality" articles on what simultaneous gonosimulism would describe come up (they still describe it as simultaneous hermaphroditism, but i mean that just shows that cosexuality is an effective replacement for that word). so its still generally more comprehendable to use terms like "sequential cosexuality" and "simultaneous cosexuality", or maybe even "sequential cosexuality" and just "cosexuality".

this is all to say that im gonna use the term cosexual since its currently more clear, i jusr wanted to bring up the term gonosimulism, because i could imagine that in a situation where you needed to distinct between plants and animals, it'd be more clear to have both terms.

[jjcocker]

tis is also the tengoku ahirt iwas talking about

[cyreneduvent]

You find yourself in a room. You look around in mild confusion. You open the door.

---

You find yourself in a room. Wait, weren’t you just here? You open the door.

You find yourself in a room. It is bland, with white walls and a white ceiling and wooden flooring. It is the same as the room you were just in, and the room before that. Furrowing your brow, you open the door.

---

You find yourself in a room. It is the same room. You look behind you. There is a plain white wall. Your heartrate rises. You open the door.

---

You find yourself in a room. “Did I… walk in here?” you ask yourself. You’re standing in the centre of the floor. You take three steps forward and open the door.

---

You find yourself in a room. You didn’t walk into the room. You were stepping through the door, and then you were standing in the centre of the room, and your memory skips smoothly between those two events. You open the door, and slowly reach lift your foot up, over the threshold, down towards the floor on the other side.

---

You find yourself in a room. Before your foot hit the ground, but only barely. No moment of vertigo or continued momentum, nothing to suggest that anything happened between stepping through the doorway and standing in the centre of the room motionless.

The wood flooring is only printed plastic. You open the door.

---

You find yourself in a room. It is so bland it is nearly aggressive in its monotony. The walls are white, although the kind which gets called eggshell in paint stores to differentiate it from the twenty two other shades of off-white. The ceiling is the same colour. The fake wooden flooring would be called honey-coloured, but it lacks all the depth and saturation of fresh honey. It is so different as to almost be a falsehood. When you tap your foot on it, it does not sound hollow, but it does sound insubstantial. The room is lit by small windows, high up on the side walls like a basement apartment in an oddly narrow house.

You reach for the window on the right wall. It is just barely low enough for you to slide it open and pull yourself up, kicking and scrabbling against the wall. You pull your head through.

---

You find yourself in a room.

“Fuck,” you say. “Fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck.” English is unfortunately uncreative in its common swear words.

You look again at the wall. Despite your flailing to reach the window, this wall is pristine, with no scuffs or dents.

You open the door.

---

You find yourself in a room. You run forward to the door, opening it and throwing yourself through again and again. The change from running to stock still in the centre of each new room would be disconcerting if you thought about it at all. You pass through dozens of doors before stopping, folding down with your hands on your thighs, heaving rough breaths through a dry throat.

After two minutes and twenty-seven seconds (you do not know this. This room has no clock.) you straighten up somewhat. You observe the room. The walls and ceiling are eggshell. The floor is fake wood, plastic and cheap. The windows are set high up on the walls on either side. The door stands across from you, the same colour as the walls, a round silver knob, silver hinges. Behind you is a plain white wall.

It is exactly the same as every other room you’ve been in.

You step forward, slow and staggering, the lactic acid flooding your leg muscles trying to anchor you in place. Still, you are pulled forward by curiosity, by hope, by the most human of emotions. You grasp the silver knob. It is smooth and cool, but warms swiftly in your hand. You turn it gently, pull the door open and step back instead of through. You try to look in front of you. There is nothing there.

Not blackness. Not whiteness, not tv-static fuzziness. A nothing that undulates as you try to look at it, like the patterns that form when you close your eyes. A colour that does not exist and also is no colour at all, a space that your eyes refuse to resolve, an empty doorway that would be threatening if your brain wasn’t trying to ignore its existence.

You realize even as you look at it that this is why you never saw anything on the other side of the door. There was nothing there.

You reach out your hand to touch it. After all, you’ve done it before. You can see your hand even as it enters the nothing, your brain taking advantage of the tangible intrusion to ignore the impossibility around it. Or rather, to ignore that there’s nothing to ignore. Your hand is in a doorway, and there is nothing else. You lean forward to stick your head through as well.

---

You find yourself in a room. It has a door, and a window. The floor is vinyl wood, light coloured and bland. You sigh, and lie down on it. You close your eyes.

You do not sleep, although your mind does drift. A waking hibernation, letting time slip by for lack of anything else to do. Sometimes you open your eyes again and stare at the ceiling for a while. Eggshell, so plain you feel as if you should see the same sort of swirling patterns that come in complete darkness. They don’t come – there is a depth to darkness, even just that of closed eyes, and this room contains no such depths.

The floor heats with the warmth of your skin, but never quite enough to be comfortable. It digs into your back the way only a flat surface can. After thirty four minutes and eight seconds (again, you do not know this. Not only is there no way to measure the time, but there are no events to delineate it in your memory. There is no meaningful difference between a minute and an hour) the discomfort finally outweighs the stasis of boredom, and you roll over, flopping vaguely onto your side. You stare at the baseboards.

There is a corner of the floor where the vinyl sheets haven’t quite clicked together. It stands out strangely, a mistake amongst the inhuman nothingness. Pulling yourself to your feet, you shake out your joints, where the coolness of the floor had settled in exchange for your warmth. An exchange which follows the laws of physics if not those of fairness. You take the two steps to the corner, and crouch over the disjointed seam.

It's nearly invisible from above, but your fingers catch on the lip easily when you run them along the printed grain. You can just barely get your fingertips under the edge, just enough to pry upwards. The sheet flexes as you pull, the edge popping free bit by bit, each releasing clip startlingly loud in the perfect silence of the room. Once the side is detached the ends lift free easily, and you prop the section of flooring up against the wall.

Beneath the floor is grey cement, the room set directly on a foundation. And set into that foundation is a trapdoor. Real wood, still rough. Iron handle, dull grey with time and disuse. You grab the handle. It’s cold in your hand, the metal swiftly pulling heat from your fingers. You lift it, and climb through.

---

You find yourself in a room. It looks exactly the same as every other room you’ve been in, but is it? The door, the window, the hole beneath the floor. Is there more to this aggressively plain eightly square feet than meets the eye? “Maybe it’s all a puzzle,” you say. “Maybe I just need to find all the exits.” No one replies. There is no one else here, after all.

The other window. (You find yourself in a room.) Flaking paint in corner concealing a crack in the drywall, only noticeable by the residue it leaves upon the floor. You claw it wider with your bare hands. Your fingernails break and bleed. “Maybe it just wants my blood,” you muse, somewhat nonsensically. You may in fact still be panicking. The crack is wide enough. You slip through. (You find yourself in a room.) You pull apart the door’s hinges. Maybe the door itself was the problem. The door is white. It is all so bland that it burns. (You find yourself in a room.) You pick apart every inch of the eight hundred cubic feet that is all you have seen for hours.

---

You find yourself in a room. You sit down in a corner, one of the ones next to the door, and you begin to cry. Softly, tears without sound. There is no one else here to hear you, after all. No one that will hear your sobs and ask what is wrong. You are so, so tired.

“Is this a test?” you ask a god you’ve never really believed in. “Are you seeing what it would take for me to beg you? What the human mind is willing to take?”

You haven’t gone to church in a long while. Was whatever greater being who seems to have decided to trap you on a whim upset with your lack of devotion? With how you liked the music but hated the lyrics? With the parts of the prayers you wouldn't speak?

“Or is this your doing? Some punishment for it all,” you say to the devil you believe in even less. “Doing god’s dirty work, or just doing this because you can.” At least you’re not a pawn, in some game between deities. If this is some devil, by some quirk of existence, then they cannot be in opposition to god. Any god in this world is cruel enough on their own.

You get to your feet again, pushing up from the wall. You wince as your limbs unbend and your stiff joints shift.

“Onward, then,” you announce to the room. To anything that may be listening within it. “I’ll dance for you, you god or devil or room full of aliens. I’ll fucking dance.”

You set your pace and begin to walk. Through door after door after door. If this is a test, your options are to pass it or to die.

It must be a test.

(It isn’t)

---

You find yourself in a room. You have been walking for hours. You do know this, because your feet are aching and your legs shake and it cannot possibly have been any less. You curl up in the corner, pull your sleeves around you as you wish they were a sweater, and shiver yourself to sleep.

It is not morning, when you wake. It is not morning, because it has never been night, or afternoon or evening. The light in the room never shifts. It streams in the windows, set high on the walls, just as bright and as heatless as it did the first time you found yourself standing here.

It is not morning, but time has passed, and your body had renewed some of its energy while you slept. You are cold, and a headache is beginning to poke at the back of your skull, but for now, at least, you are still alive.

You set your jaw, and set off for the door with one last hope. “It must end,” you mutter to yourself. “All things end. Nothing is truly infinite.”

You open a door. “It must end.” You find yourself in a room.

You open a door. “It must end.” You find yourself in a room.

---

            You open a door. “It must end,” you say, your voice going, the words coming out less as a mutter and more a ragged whisper. “It must.”

(It doesn’t.)

[cicidraws]

i know for a fact ive been very much spoiled, im very thankful for every bit of money-help i get or gifts or things on my list bought.

i appreciate that so much. im thankful for what i have for sure. thank you for supporting me and helping me out when able.

[tojicide]

DOCTOR, DOCTOR! ☆ ZAYNE LI.

summary. when you’re feeling under the weather, doctor zayne is quick to prescribe you with what he knows will have you feeling better in no time.

warnings. fem! reader, pet names, boyfriend! zayne, praise, masturbation, fingering, oral ( fem. receiving ), cockwarming, unprotected p in v, mirror sex, creampie, aftercare. the rocking chair is featured. wc. 3.9k.

⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀ ✧ masterlist | request

Zayne is an intelligent man, that much was evident, but for the first time in his career, he’s absolutely stumped.

Why is that, you may ask? Well for starters you, his beloved girlfriend, have been a bit distant lately. Not cold, not rude, but distant.

With his busy schedule, he didn’t see much of you during the day, and by the time he got home, you were usually fast asleep. It was easy to think that he was simply missing you and that was why his brain had led him to feel this rift between the two of you, but alas, he couldn’t be more wrong.

This entire ordeal truly got him thinking…

He saw a few tissues in the trash bin—perhaps you were catching the common cold. But when he prepared a spoonful of bitter medicine and a glass of water to wash it down, he was met with your denial that you masked with a smile.

If it wasn’t that, what could it be? Zayne asked the same question.

Maybe you were stressed out because of work. He finds that to be probable, so he made it a point to get home as early as he could last night to give you a massage after he cooked you your favorite meal.

You seemed to be soothed by his touch, murmuring a few ‘ah’s and ‘ooh’s of satisfaction as his skilled hands threaded into the tense muscles of your shoulders. Once you were at ease with your head resting back on his chest, he gave you a tender kiss on your cheek before he turned in for the night.

Call him overly analytical, but when it took you awhile to join him, he had a feeling that the massage hadn’t quite accomplished what he hoped it would have.

His mind then started to wander even further. Had he forgotten to run the dishwasher? No, of course not. Had he forgotten to pay the utility bills? Absolutely not, he took his credit score very seriously and a late payment was simply unlike him.

Had he forgotten to put the toilet seat down…? Okay, he definitely did, but that couldn’t be why you were acting so unlike yourself.

And then, as he sat at his desk with a fresh plate of food in front of him, it dawned on him. When was the last time you orgasmed? More importantly, when was the last time he’d given you one himself?

It was almost inhuman how fast he jumped up from his office chair to inform Yvonne that he would be out for the remainder of the afternoon, because oh was he feeling downright horrible.

He was back at your shared apartment in no time, pushing the door open and setting his shoes in the nook positioned in the entryway.

(He had a bad habit of trucking on the hardwood floors without removing his shoes, and considering he was already on your shit-list, he made sure to do it now.)

“Honey?” he calls out to you, making his way towards your closed bedroom door. “Sweetheart, I’m home.”

Zayne’s eyebrows raise as he glances around, finding that your apartment looks rather empty and desolate. “I’d like to apologize. I know I haven’t been present for you lately and—”

And then, he hears something. Something that makes him stop in his tracks. His eyebrow quirks up with intrigue as he presses his ear to the door, listening in.

He’d know those beautiful sounds anywhere, even if it’d been awhile since he had lured them out of you himself. Your moans were muffled by the door, but they were enough to make his cock stiffen up beneath the fabric of his black slacks.

“God… please,” you muttered, clearly out of breath and in frustration. “Damn it!”

Behind the door, you were resting on his side of the bed, hoping that his scent would be enough to make you finish. Your fingers toyed with your clit as you desperately tried to get yourself off, but nothing seemed to be working.

Zayne was practiced in a way that only he could be. He knew female anatomy better than you did, but more importantly, he took pride in learning yours. He knew what you liked and what you didn’t, what made you crumble and cry out.

And now that you’ve gone without him for so long, you’re finding yourself more pent up than ever. A huff of frustration leaves your lips as you try again, again, and again—only to be edged with your release without reaping the benefits of it.

He exhales, twisting the doorknob as he cracks the door open. To no surprise, there you were, sitting on his side of the bed with your hand slipped beneath the fabric of your panties.

You hardly looked horrified at the sight of him, more so desperate if anything. He pulls his tie loose as he takes a few steps towards the bed, his knees finding the plush comforter as he sinks onto his stomach.

“Oh, sweetheart,” he murmurs, almost sounding sympathetic. He runs his hands over your thighs as he hikes them over his shoulders. “Let me see.”

You roll your eyes. “Who’s to say that you deserve to?”

Zayne gives you a look that you know all too well, one that silently reads ‘girl, are you serious?’ And no, you aren’t serious by any means, so you nod your head to give him your permission.

He pulls the damp fabric of your panties to the side, his gaze slimming as he sets eyes on your cunt for the first time in what feels like forever. (It’s been two and a half weeks at most, but you’re both awfully dramatic.)

“I’m sorry,” he speaks into your heat, almost as if he were apologizing to both you and your pussy. He raises his eyes to yours as he flattens his soft tongue to swipe along your wet folds. He moans at the mere taste of you, his grip on your thighs tightening as he pulls you even closer to him. “I had no idea. Truly, baby, I didn’t.”

You whine at the sensation of his gentle voice rumbling against your sensitive skin, your hand delving into his hair. “No idea about—hah—what?”

Zayne takes a moment to reply. His mouth is certainly distracted with the way it’s buried into your soaking cunt while his tongue laps at your inner lips, his nose brushing against your clit with each movement he makes.

“I hadn’t realized I was neglecting your needs,” he clarifies, cracking his eyes open just enough to look at you with hollowed cheeks as he sucks onto your sensitive bundle of nerves.

He releases it with a ‘pop’, his tongue quickly replacing his lips as he curls it in up and down motions that stimulate you in ways you can’t even comprehend. “My girl is too sweet to be treated like that,” he whispers, thumbing at your folds to give himself better access.

One of his hands continues to rub your thighs for some sort of comfort for his behavior, and soon, the other reaches up to take your hand in his own. You squeeze onto it immediately, finding the gesture to be much appreciated.

“So, you… mmh— you remember I exist after all?” Your words are meant as a joke, but he doesn’t seem to consider them as such with the way he presses a kiss to your clit before pulling away.

“Honey, I’m being serious,” he murmurs, resting his cheek on your thigh. “I’d never want to make it seem like I don’t consider you and your feelings.”

He gives your hand a squeeze before he smiles, adding an earnest, “and truth be told, I’m rather surprised that I’ve gone so long without tasting this pretty pussy of yours,” before he delves right back into eating you out like a man starved.

Zayne hasn’t noticed it until now, but he truly was starving, and not for the lunch that he left on his desk back at Akso Hospital. He wasn’t much for alcohol, but getting drunk on your pussy was one of his favorite pastimes, and he’ll never go this long without doing it again.

He was a man of science, and even then, he would never be able to explain the chemical imbalance that tasting you set off in his brain. Sure, medically speaking, the preoptic area of the brain is what triggers an erection, but what you did to him was far beyond that.

It was safe to say that Zayne was almost as in love with your pussy as he was with you, and judging by the way he’s making out with it right now, you have no doubts about that.

Your head tilts back against the headboard as he reintroduces his middle finger to your entrance, feeling the way your walls clench around it.

“Mm, quite sensitive, are we?” he lowly asks, licking a few swipes at your clit before adding, “Is it because you’ve been using your own hand for quite some time now?”

It’s almost pathetic how quickly you nod, your fingers grasping onto his dark locks as he presses an open-mouthed kiss onto your folds. “It’s the only choice I had,” you whine.

(He makes a mental note to give you his credit card so that you can purchase anything and everything you’ll need in order to satisfy yourself whenever he isn’t around. The fact that he hasn’t thought of that sooner is a problem in and of itself.)

He nods in return, though the movement only invites him to make hard licks at your pussy, collecting your slick on his tongue. His cock is rock hard, but he’ll get his turn soon enough.

Even if his turn never came, he’d be more than happy with this alone—that much was incredibly evident.

“I know it, my love,” he whispers, pressing a kiss on your sensitive clit as he slides another finger into your hole. “Is this alright?”

Your thighs tense up at the sensation, but you nod, tilting your head down to look at him. With your permission, he continues, his tongue swiping at you while his fingers fuck you into oblivion.

When you tilt your head back, he squeezes your thigh. “Eyes down here, I need you to watch closely.”

A sharp whine escaped you as his mouth somehow latched onto your pussy in the time it took you to look at him. He pulls off of you to speak, his lips coated with your arousal. “There will be times like this in which I won’t be able to give you what you need, and as much as it kills me, your pleasure can’t be limited to the times I can have you like this.”

You tilt your head. “What… what do you mean?”

Zayne nods his head, urging you to tune in. He curls fingers inside of you, hitting your g-spot with each push. “Hm. I suppose I can teach you how to touch yourself a bit more effectively. Would you like that?”

Your hand goes flying to his shoulder as you nod, your teeth pressing down onto your bottom lip. “Hah… mhm.”

He nods, grasping onto your hand. He presses a few kisses on your knuckles as he guides it to your clit, helping you swirl the pads of your fingers around it in smooth, moan-earning circles. “Very good. You look happier with me already.”

“You’re still a jerk,” you huff.

“I’m sure I have been behaving like one, yes,” he murmurs with a laugh. “Don’t let me off the hook too easily, either. I need to get a few orgasms out of you before you should consider that.”

That sounds perfectly fine to you, so all you do is moan in reply, which makes him smile. He likes to please his woman, and knowing that he hasn’t done a good job of that makes him even more determined to make up for it.

“It’s okay to use two hands, sweet girl,” he continues teaching, tilting his head towards his own hand that was still thrusting two fingers inside of you. “While it may be mine right now, yours will work just the same.”

Something switches inside of you the moment he begins to help you masturbate, his own fingers fucking inside of you while yours stimulate another part of your puffy cunt. You always had a thing for acts of service, but when it came from your boyfriend, you were practically putty in his hands.

“That’s right,” he purrs, a smile tugging on his lips. “Such a pretty girl. Perhaps you just needed to be reminded of how to treat yourself.”

His hazel eyes are still on your face, watching as you pinch in absolute ecstasy, your thighs shaking on his shoulders. “I see that I’ve underestimated you,” he teases, dipping his head to lick at your folds, his tongue brushing against your fingers as he continues to guide the movements of your hand. “It seems like you’re doing just fine for yourself after all.”

You huff, shaking your head. “No, no… it’s all you.”

Zayne chuckles at that, sucking your fingers that were circling your clit into his mouth before he places them back on your sensitive pearl, giving you a bit more lubricant. “There’s no need to be so hard on yourself, I’m merely helping you. We’re practicing together, sweetheart.”

You almost roll your eyes because the last thing Zayne needed was practice on how to please you. He may have been a bit distracted, but that could never take away from how perfect of a lover he was.

And… it was difficult not to be hard on yourself when he’s practically taken away your ability to orgasm on your own. With the way he’s making you feel right now, his absence was almost worth it.

Your eyes haze over as you look down at him, a soft moan leaving your lips. “Mmh, ‘m gonna cum,” you choke out.

To that, he nods in understanding. He thumbs apart your folds, leaving you to play with yourself as you please while he dips his head in to lick at your cunt in any way he can, feeling the way you clench around his fingers. “That’s right. Look at you, honey, such a quick learner.”

Zayne grasps onto your thigh with his free hand, pressing a few wet kisses along your inner skin as you come down from your high. Your hand still has a death grip on his hair, but he doesn’t mind it. He knows that he deserves to lose a few strands of hair after how he has left you alone.

You pant, your chest heaving as your body reels from your orgasm. While your vision is blurry, you can still make out the picture of your boyfriend sucking his fingers into his mouth, cleaning them free of your release.

“Mm, you know, the release from an orgasm does much to calm people,” he murmurs, giving your mound a chaste kiss before he rises up to give you one on your forehead. “Do you feel any better, my dear?”

You do feel better, but a part of you, one that you can’t quite shove away, is still yearning for more. Despite that, you nod, brushing your hand along his cheek as he dips his head to give you a kiss.

Sugary and sweet are two words you’d used to describe kissing Zayne, because those were adjectives you’d also use to detail how he always behaves when around you.

He pulls away from the kiss, propping himself up on his elbow above you while he uses his other hand to brush away your hair. “I really am sorry,” he whispers, his voice soft and full of a raw honesty that makes your heart squeeze.

You shake your head with a smile. “I know you didn’t mean to,” you reply. “It’s just… you made me feel like you didn’t need me, like what I felt was one sided.”

Zayne’s expression seems to soften as he shakes his head. “Of course I need you, I always need you. Your needs are never one-sided, especially not needs of this nature.” He brushes his hand over your cheek. “And I was serious about my endeavors of making it up to you, sweetness. C’mere.”

Before you know it, you’re plucked from your position on the bed and carried to the corner of the bedroom. Zayne takes a seat in the rocking chair positioned there, spinning it around until it faces the body length mirror just in front of the two of you.

He then undresses you entirely, kissing along your thighs, your hips, the curves of your back, on the cheek of your ass—everywhere and anywhere he could. Sure enough, you hear the rattling of his metal belt buckle behind you, and when you glance over your shoulder, his cock is pulled out from the confines of his boxers.

His slacks are still bunched up around his thighs, as are his boxers, but he pays no mind to it. He raises two fingers as he beckons you to sit in his lap, and you do.

Zayne rests one hand on your hip while the other grasps onto his shaft, pumping it in his fist a few times before he smears the head of his cock along your folds, gathering your slick. “The ‘teaching’ is over, but now, I simply want to show you just how much I need you.”

His words stir something within you, and when he leans up to press a kiss on your shoulder, you already feel like your lover is here to live up to his word. “Is that alright?” he asks against your skin, prodding your entrance with his tip.

When you nod, you’re already sinking down, taking him inch by inch until you’re cockwarming his thick length. He smiles at you in the reflection of the mirror, his eyes drifting over your body that he will never forget to worship again.

“So beautiful,” he coos, his hands mapping out the curves of your waist, your hips, your thighs. “Absolutely gorgeous.”

Your cheeks flush at his words. “Thanks.”

Zayne shakes his head. “There’s no need to thank me for speaking the truth,” he whispers. “That’d be like thanking Einstein for developing the theories of special and general relativity—it’s practically a given.”

You aren’t sure where the correlation is, but when one of his hands slips in between your thighs while the other grasps onto one of your breasts, you don’t care about fighting it out.

“Point is, I mean it. Every word,” he adds.

You feel like a goddess being worshiped as his mouth finds your shoulder, the smacking of his lips omitting into the otherwise quiet room as he places open-mouthed kisses on your skin. His middle and ring finger work to toy with your clit, his other hand squeezing onto your breast.

And then… he begins to rock.

You gasp at the feeling of his cock just barely moving inside of you, your body entirely engulfed in the sensations that he is so eagerly providing you.

“You feel—hah—so, so good,” he whispers against your skin, his lips climbing the curve of your shoulder. His fingers circle your clit at an agonizingly slow pace, and when you place your hand on his to guide his movements, he smiles at you in the reflection. “There’s my girl. Such a quick learner, just like I said.”

You lazily return his smile, your head resting back on his shoulder. He removes his hand from your breast to pluck his glasses from his face, placing them on yours instead.

“My baby is such a smart girl,” he purrs, his lips finding your neck as he admires you. Flushed skin, hair messed up, his glasses resting on your nose. He could come inside you at the sight, but he wants to prolong this. He doesn’t ever want to leave this moment with you. “And so beautiful too. Absolutely ravishing.”

You chuckle at that, though your laughter was interrupted by a soft moan as his fingers pick up the pace as they circle your puffy clit. “You’re… hah—handsome,” you manage to return.

Zayne chuckles at your words, nodding his head as a silent thank you. He presses another kiss on your shoulder, though he quickly leaves another one once you begin to rock your hips. He sits back, catching a glimpse of how you look when you bounce on his cock.

He grins, his hand finding the swell of your ass as he gives both cheeks a nice squeeze. “We can move back to our bed if you’d prefer, sweetheart. I don’t want you to have to put in any more effort into your pleasure tonight.”

You shake your head, glancing over your shoulder to look at him. “I wanna see you,” you breathe.

“Honey, there are positions—”

He’s interrupted by your hand reaching back to hold his jaw, pulling him up so that he too could see the reflection of you both in the mirror.

And oh, was it a sight.

“I wanna see you,” you repeat.

Zayne is in no position to deny you, so with a nod of approval, his hands find your hips. “At the very least, let me help you.”

The sound of slapping skin and your breathy moans fill the room, his large hands keeping their iron grip on your hip bones while your hands rest on top of his. He peers out from behind you, watching as your tits bounce just as you do, your hair flying messily.

“Pretty baby,” he pants, more to himself in reaction to the mere sight of you. “Such a lucky man you’ve made me, fuck… take it, baby, yeah. I love you so much, so much…” he babbles, not quite sure what he’s saying, just that he’s speaking whatever graces his mind.

“Oh, I… I love you too, Zayne,” you gasp.

You whine, grinding your hips in fluid motions as you feel your second orgasm quickly approaching. You were sensitive to begin with, and the feeling of his cock stretching you out was more than enough to bring you here.

“Shit,” he rasps, his head falling back onto the rocking chair as his eyes screw shut. “You take me so well, you fit me so perfectly, baby… I’m gonna cum, I’m gonna… oh, shit.”

You weren’t far behind him, and as your movements grow lazier, you opt to sit on his cock entirely as the both of you find your orgasms only second apart.

Ropes of white paint your insides, your cum coating the base of his cock as the two of you become one in a way that you’ve missed so dearly.

Only bliss envelopes the two of you as you slump back onto his chest, his arm wrapping around your waist to hold you close to him. The two of you sit just like that for a moment as you find your breaths that have run off, relishing in the feeling of your combined warmth.

Zayne reaches up to carefully grasp your jaw, turning your head back just enough so that he could kiss you. Your breaths mingle to add to the scent of your love that looms in the air, his other hand running soothing strides along your hip.

“I don’t deserve you,” he breathlessly says with a lovesick grin. “Quite frankly, I don’t. You’re wonderful to me.”

You shake your head, leaning down to kiss him again before he slowly helps you up onto your trembling legs. “Oh, stop that. Just because you’ve been a little caught up with work doesn’t mean that you’re suddenly a bad partner.”

Zayne sweeps you into his arms, carrying you bridal style towards the bathroom. “See? You’re simply too good to me. Such a lovely personality, the most contagious laugh I’ve ever heard, the cutest snores when you sleep, the sweetest pussy in existence… my dream girl in all capacities.”

You smile as he sets you down, pressing a kiss onto your forehead as he crosses the room to draw you a shower to your liking. Warm—not cold, but not hot enough to the point that your skin tingles. He’s had plenty of practice in this area, and he’s gotten it down to a science by now.

“I do not snore,” you murmur, shaking your head.

As he peels off his clothes, discarding them without care on the bathroom tile. He extends his hand to you to invite you inside the shower behind him. “Mhm, sure you don’t.”

You scoff, tipping the toilet seat shut. “You can tease me for my snoring once you, my 27-year-old man, master the art of putting the damn seat down.”

“…Oops.”

note. my dr. zayne would never forget to please his woman! but i really liked the concept sooooo :3 it was rly difficult for me to write him lol the dialogue might suuuuuckkkk but i hope i did him justice < 3 thank you for reading, interact if you enjoyed !!!

i ALSO kinda wanna do a similar version of this with sylus except… not nearly as gentle ig?? would you be interested??? do let me know.

⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀ ✧ masterlist | request

[misstycloud]

Yandere cowboy x fem.reader

Yandere! Cowboy who’s the towns sweetheart. How can he not be? He helps every troubled soul he comes across, doesn’t matter who they are. He works hard every day to easy the load of providing for the family, he’s not a child anymore, of course he’ll do anything he can to help out! Besides, who wouldn’t fall for those muscles and pearly smile? You’d be crazy if you didn’t.

Yandere! Cowboy who you meet the first day of your ���vacation’ to stay at your grandparents. Your parents though you’d been acting up the last weeks so they decided it was best to send you away for the summer, much to your dismay. Now you’d have to text your friends that you can’t hang out at all. Damn it. Being forced to stay in a in-the-middle-of-nowhere town definitely wasn’t your top priority. There was practically no service and nothing to do all summer. You’ll be bored out of your mind unless you manage to find something to entertain you. Luckily, there does appear to be something worthy of your attention- or rather, someone. It’ll certainly make things more interesting.

Yandere! Cowboy who you think is kinda cute, if not a little weird. He’s no doubt very different compared to the boys in the city- speaking in that special accent, wearing worn overalls, sweat at his forehead everytime you meet and practical thinking above all else. Still, you find yourself intrigued by his contrasting personality.

Yandere! Cowboy who is enchanted by you. You’re just so….wonderful. Funny enough, he also thinks you’re different, which interests him. Normally, he isn’t the type to brag and is quite humble, but he isn’t blind. He can see the way the girls in town drool over him. He knows he’s attractive. But you, you don’t fall over your feet whenever you gets a glimpse of him. You don’t stutter over every word while talking to him- in fact, you’re as cool as a cucumber. It almost seems like you’re flirting with him.

Yandere! Cowboy who notices you way your eyes sparkle when you speak of your interests. He starts thinking about the way you sound when laugh, how you pout when you’re frustrated and what you look like when you’re sad. It’s all beautiful. You are beautiful. Soon, it’s not only that he focuses on. Now, every time you’re walking ahead of him, he pays attention to the curve of your ass, how your hips sway when you walk, and suddenly he finds himself having to adjust his pants.

Yandere! Cowboy who you enter a special relationship with. You’re more than friends but less than actual lovers- that’s how you see it at least and you believed that’s what yan! Cowboy wanted, too. You two spend all your free time together in each others arms and going on cute dates around town and in the forest.

Yandere! Cowboy who wishes to marry you. You’re his perfect match! It must be fate that you ended up in their little town. He’d give you a big beautiful ring- he’s saved up quite a bit during his years of working, so he can easily afford it- and let you have whatever wedding you imagine. He’d make sure it’s exactly how you want it. Then, he’ll personally build you a house. Of course, before he starts working on that, he’ll need to know if you want a porch, what kind of shutter you want and what colour should the exterior be, would you like a fireplace?

Yandere! Cowboy who can’t believe it; you’re leaving? You say that summer is over and you don’t have to stay there with your grandparents anymore. You almost seem…relieved. No, that can’t be it. You love him! Right? Or was the connection he felt just one-sided?

“Sorry, you weren’t meant to catch feelings for me or anything. I just wanted to have fun, pass the time y’know.

“So I didn’t meant anything to you? Not even a little bit?…”

“I do like you. But I live in the city and my stay here was never going to be permanent. Like I said, I’m sorry it got a little too serious.”

“…….”

“Yeah, I gotta go now. I wish you well though, see ya.”

Yandere! Cowboy who spiraled after you left. You’ve dug yourself too deep in him. He can’t imagine going on about his life like you never existed. He thought you could be happy there, even if wasn’t like the big city you were used too, but that was clearly not the case.

If he had to uproot his life and move to be with you, then so be it. He wonders if you’ll be happy to see him again.

[pumpkin-bats]

When They Miss You- OP Boys Headcanons

Since the last one did so- bafflingly- well, here's another one!

Law:

He's chill for a while and for the most part he's calmed by the thought that you'll be back soon enough.

After a while he gets fidgety. Tapping his foot or finger, bouncing his leg, pacing, eyes occasionally darting to the door.

He sighs a lot and gets minutely more irritable. Only those who really know him notice the difference.

Throws himself into work to distract himself.

Spends more time standing next to the bed and staring at it than he does sleeping in it, and frowning every time he sees how the indent on your side of the bed lessens.

Zoro:

He doesn't wait like a dog... but he waits like a dog. On more than one occasion you returned to find him at the door.

Doesn't say a single word about missing you ever, but puts in every effort to stay in touch while you're gone.

There is a picture of you near him at all times that he hides when someone almost catches sight of it.

He holds his swords just a bit tighter.

Unconsciously flexes his hand a lot while he wonders if you're doing alright

Sanji:

Over does it with shopping for ingredients for the feast he plans to prepare for when you get back.

Casual keeping in touch with little calls or letters.

Surprisingly less bothered by your absence than most expect him to be, but that's because he doesn't want to worry you pointlessly by being a nuisance about it.

Quietly listens to music at night while daydreaming about you or remembering good memories to comfort himself.

The thought of you coming back keeps him too excited to be sad. He likes thinking about how he can surprise you each time you open the door and it occupies him thoroughly while he waits.

Ace:

He is obnoxious to everyone who is not you. That is to say, he won't shut up, ever, about you.

He talks about what you're up to, how much he likes you in general, and all the things he can't wait to do with you when you get back.

He'll lay awake in bed at night for a little bit, just smiling to himself and thinking of you.

There's an annoying number of phone calls, not to tell you that he misses you, but just to tell you he saw something weird. What he doesn't tell you is that he just likes getting to hear your voice.

He tries to keep the place clean while waiting for you to come back and always ends up breaking something.

Mihawk:

"I slept terribly." That is the start of every single phone call.

He will never tell you that he does this; but he gets an old pillow from the closet, stuffs it into one of your shirts and sleeps with it. It does not help and it makes him angrier in the morning than he would if he just stopped using it. But he likes that it smells like you so he keeps doing it.

Zones out a lot in the middle of a task or conversation thinking about how you're doing.

Accidentally makes an extra plate of food for breakfast and a cup of coffee/tea in the morning and pouts about it every time.

End of the day phone calls about your day and a gentle 'goodnight' before going to sleep.

Buggy:

Gets a bit more drunk than he usually does and spends his drunken stupor mumbling about how you are a traitor who abandoned him while fiddling with his cup.

The silence without you makes him frown a lot.

Every time he comes up with a good (or bad) joke that he thinks you'd like, he writes it down for when you get back.

Lies in bed like a sad puppy, staring at your side of the bed with a pout.

Only calls you when his people have had enough of his sulking and call you on his behalf before forcing him to talk to you. He cheers up significantly and is giddy for the rest of the day.

Crocodile:

He's minorly grumpy because half the time he tries convincing you to let him go with you and fails every time.

He spends significantly less while you're gone because literally everything reminds him of you and even he knows he can't buy everything in sight.

Calls you after lunch, of all times, to ask if you've eaten, tells you to take care of yourself, then promptly hangs up.

He's not particularly upset that you're gone because he has other things to occupy him, but also because the second he starts really missing you it makes him feel like you two are newlyweds separated for the first time and he's immediately soothed.

He does get a lot of things for when you return, planning to treat you to a relaxing day and sensual dinner. There's too many things for said day because he can't decide on what he thinks you'd enjoy best.

[s4kura-tr3]

Hiya!!! I’m here again to feed more ideas >:)

My thought was JJK men if their s/o got hurt (interpret however you will, I’m interested to see what you cook up!!!)

If you do this, thank you for your time!!! If you don’t wanna/aren’t comfortable, that’s okay too!!! Have a good day/night!!!

It’s okay

An: ahhh it’s always nice to see your request! I don’t know why but I just decided that all the jjk men’s reader was hurt on the job (except for Sukuna and Toji)

Characters: Gojo, Geto, Nanami, Toji, Sukuna, Megumi, Yuji

Tw: mention of injury, hurt reader, blood, angst?

(Another long one..)

Gojo Satoru

The call came in while Gojo Satoru was lounging in the hallway of Jujutsu High, long legs stretched across a bench and blindfold resting low over his eyes. He wasn’t worried—he never was—but the tone of Ijichi’s voice made him sit up straighter than usual.

“They’re hurt, Satoru. It was supposed to be a simple mission.”

Gojo froze. Just for a second. It was imperceptible to anyone else, but he felt it—the world tilting, the weight of the words sinking in. A familiar tightness pulled in his chest.

And then he was gone.

When Gojo arrived on the scene, the air practically crackled with his energy. Cursed spirits that had lingered moments ago were already fleeing—instinctively knowing that something far greater had arrived. He found you there, propped against a wall, one hand pressed to your side where blood was soaking through your uniform.

Your head lifted weakly when you felt his presence. “Gojo—”

He was in front of you in an instant, crouched down so his face was level with yours. You could see his eyes now—brilliant, endless blue, the usual teasing gone, replaced by something sharp and focused.

“You’re hurt,” he said, his voice softer than you expected. His hands hovered, unsure where to touch you without causing more pain.

“Looks worse than it is,” you murmured with a small smile, trying to lighten the mood. “I handled it.”

Gojo’s jaw tightened. He didn’t smile back.

“You shouldn’t have to handle it.”

With a flick of his fingers, the cursed energy lingering in the area vanished entirely. The remnants of your fight—the spirits, the blood, the destruction—no longer mattered. His world was you, and you were bleeding. That was unacceptable.

He moved you carefully, his Infinity dropping just for you as he slid an arm around your back. “I’ve got you,” he whispered, his tone almost reverent. “Let me fix this.”

You blinked up at him, trying to keep your breathing steady. “I’m fine, Gojo—”

“No, you’re not,” he interrupted, that usual playfulness inching back into his voice, though his grip on you was impossibly gentle. “And you know what? I don’t care how strong you are. You’re banned from missions without me now. Official rule.”

You groaned. “You can’t do that.”

“I’m Gojo Satoru,” he said, a smirk pulling at his lips. “I can do anything.”

He carried you back to safety as if you weighed nothing. He never looked away from you, not even once, as if making sure you were still there—still breathing.

Later, when your wounds were cleaned and wrapped, you woke to find Gojo sitting beside you, his long frame crammed awkwardly into a chair. His blindfold was pushed up into his hair, his expression relaxed now, but his eyes betrayed him. There was no mistaking it—he’d been worried.

“You’re hovering,” you muttered, your voice still tired.

“Of course I’m hovering. You scared the hell out of me,” he said, though the teasing lilt was back. “You’re not allowed to do that again. Ever.”

You rolled your eyes. “Overprotective much?”

Gojo leaned forward, resting his chin on the back of his hand as he gazed at you. “Call it what you want, but you’re not just anyone to me.”

For a moment, the world felt still—so unlike Gojo Satoru, whose very existence bent reality. Here, though, in the quiet of your shared space, he was just a man who cared too much.

“You’re mine to keep safe,” he said softly. “So let me.”

And this time, you didn’t argue. Instead, you let yourself drift back to sleep, safe in the knowledge that Gojo Satoru—the strongest sorcerer alive—would always be there to catch you.

Geto Suguru

Suguru had always prided himself on his composure. No matter how dire the situation, no matter how chaotic the battlefield, he was calm, collected—a force of nature with unshakable purpose. But that resolve faltered the moment he saw you, crumpled on the ground, blood painting the dirt beneath you.

For a brief second, time seemed to stop. The world blurred, all sound fading away except the ragged pull of your breaths. You weren’t dead—he could tell that much from the cursed energy still flickering weakly around you—but you were hurt. Badly.

Geto’s usually languid movements were sharp as he crossed the distance between you in seconds. He crouched low, his hands trembling slightly as he reached for you.

“Why?” he murmured, his voice low and strained. His fingers hovered just above your skin, unsure if touching you would cause more pain. “Why weren’t you more careful?”

You forced a weak smile, blood staining your lips. “It’s… not as bad as it looks, Suguru.”

He didn’t believe you for a second. His eyes—a deep, endless black—burned with emotion, though his face remained calm. It was the kind of calm that preceded a storm.

“Stop lying,” he said softly, though his tone carried an edge. “You’re bleeding out, and you’re trying to joke about it?”

You flinched—not from pain, but from the raw intensity in his voice.

“I handled it,” you said, your voice hoarse. “I didn’t want to drag you into—”

“Stop talking,” he cut in, his tone sharper than you’d ever heard. His hands finally moved, one slipping behind your back to support you, the other pressing firmly against your wound. His cursed energy flowed into you, the warmth of it steadying your fading strength.

“I don’t need you to handle anything alone,” he said, his voice quieter now but no less firm. “Do you even realize what it would do to me if I lost you?”

You blinked at him, the words catching you off guard. He rarely let his emotions spill like this. Suguru had always been the calm one, the one who carried the weight of the world with an almost unnerving grace.

“I’m sorry,” you murmured, your voice barely audible.

His jaw clenched, but he didn’t respond. Instead, hisfocused on stabilizing you, his cursed energy precise and efficient. When he finally spoke again, his voice was softer.

“Don’t apologize. Just… don’t do this again. Promise me.”

You nodded weakly, your hand reaching up to rest against his. “I promise.”

When he was certain you were no longer in immediate danger, Geto carefully lifted you into his arms. His movements were deliberate, his touch impossibly gentle despite the power coursing through him.

The battlefield was eerily quiet now. The curses he’d summoned earlier loomed in the distance, awaiting his command. He glanced toward them, his expression darkening.

“Stay alive,” he said softly, his gaze flicking back to you. “Because if you don’t, I don’t know what I’ll become.”

And as he carried you away, the weight of his words settled heavily in your chest. Geto Suguru—the man who carried hatred for the world in his heart—held a love for you that was both fierce and fragile, and you knew he would destroy everything to protect it.

Nanami Kento

Nanami Kento prided himself on being a man of structure. Predictability, schedules, efficiency—those were his constants. They were the threads that held him together in a world that thrived on chaos.

But when he found you injured during a mission, those threads began to unravel.

The first sign that something was wrong was the blood—your blood—spattered across the cursed ground. Nanami’s grip on his sword tightened, his breath caught in his chest, but his footsteps never faltered. He moved with purpose, carving through curses without hesitation, eyes scanning the ruins for you.

And then he saw you.

Slumped against a cracked pillar, your uniform torn and blood-soaked, you were trying to push yourself upright, hands trembling from the effort. The second your gaze met his, you managed a weak smile.

“Kento…” Your voice was hoarse, strained. “You’re late.”

Nanami’s heart dropped, though his face remained stoic.

“I told you not to overdo it,” he said flatly, kneeling beside you. His voice was calm, his movements deliberate as he assessed your injuries, but his hands shook—just barely—as they hovered near your wounds. “And yet here we are.”

“I’m fine,” you muttered, though you hissed when he pressed his hand against your side to slow the bleeding.

Nanami exhaled slowly through his nose. “You are not fine,” he replied, his tone edged with a frustration he rarely allowed to show. “Don’t lie to me.”

He worked in silence after that, his cursed energy flowing steadily as he stabilized you. He moved with surgical precision, the tension in his shoulders the only indication of his true feelings.

When your breathing finally steadied and the worst of the bleeding stopped, Nanami let out a breath he didn’t realize he’d been holding. He sat back on his heels, running a hand through his disheveled blond hair.

“You shouldn’t have been alone.”

You looked at him, guilt flickering in your expression. “I didn’t want to slow you down. I thought I could handle it.”

Nanami’s eyes snapped to yours, sharp and unyielding. “That’s the last time you think that.” His voice was low, but there was an unshakable finality to it. “You’re not a burden, and I won’t lose you because you insist on acting like one.”

Your lips parted slightly in surprise. For all his composure, Nanami rarely allowed himself to be so blunt with his feelings.

He adjusted his tie—one of his many habits when emotions threatened to break through. “You’re important to me,” he said quietly, his gaze dropping to your hands, still trembling slightly. “Do you understand that? You’re not just a colleague or an ally. You’re… more than that.”

Your heart stuttered, and for a moment, the pain in your body felt distant.

“I understand,” you whispered.

Nanami rose to his feet, steadying you as he helped you up. His arm slid firmly around your waist, supporting you without hesitation.

“We’re going home,” he said simply. “No arguments.”

You leaned into him, exhaustion finally catching up to you. “You’re bossy, you know that?”

Nanami glanced down at you, the faintest hint of a smile tugging at his lips. “And you’re reckless. Someone has to keep you alive.”

There, in the quiet aftermath of the chaos, you felt it—the way Nanami Kento held the world on his shoulders and still made space to carry you.

Toji Fushiguro

Toji Fushiguro wasn’t a man known for his calm temper. He was known for being ruthless, unrelenting, and dangerous—a man whose name alone sent shivers down the spines of sorcerers. Yet, there was one person who could tether the beast inside him—you.

But when Toji heard that you had been hurt, not by a mission gone wrong or an unavoidable accident, but by your own clan head, something inside him snapped.

The messenger hadn’t even finished explaining before Toji was on his feet, his movements sharp, predatory. “Who?” he demanded, his voice low, venomous.

The answer was spoken carefully, but it didn’t matter. Toji already knew where to go.

By the time he found you, you were sitting on the edge of your bed, your posture slumped as you clutched at your side. The bruises on your skin were faint now, evidence of half-healed wounds that still throbbed. You looked up when he entered the room, his towering frame filling the doorway.

“Toji…” you said softly.

His dark green eyes were wild—sharp and calculating as they scanned you. He stalked forward without a word, crouching down so he was at your level. You tried to wave him off.

“I’m fine,” you muttered, forcing a small smile. “It looks worse than—”

“Don’t finish that sentence.” His voice was rough, his calloused hand reaching out to cup your chin gently, tilting your face so he could see you better. “Who did it?”

You froze. You knew that look in his eyes—the quiet, simmering rage that was far more dangerous than any outburst.

“It’s over, Toji,” you tried to reason, placing your hand on his arm. “Don’t—”

“Who?” he repeated, more forceful this time, his grip gentle but unyielding.

You sighed, looking away. “It was the clan head. They were trying to prove a point. It doesn’t matter now.”

The silence that followed was deafening. Toji released your chin, his hand dropping to his knee as he leaned back, the weight of his fury filling the room like a storm cloud.

“It matters to me,” he said darkly, his voice low and lethal. “They thought they could lay a hand on you and get away with it?”

“Toji, you can’t—“

“Watch me.”

He stood abruptly, his broad frame tense with barely-contained rage. You knew what he was planning even before he reached the door. You tried to push yourself up, wincing at the sharp pain that radiated through your side.

“Toji, please! I don’t need you making things worse!”

He paused, his back still to you. When he spoke, his voice was quieter but no less dangerous. “Worse? You think letting them hurt you and walk free isn’t worse?”

“Toji…”

Finally, he turned to look at you, his expression softer now, but his eyes still burned with resolve. “I don’t care what kind of clan they are. No one touches you. No one.”

“You don’t have to fight all my battles.”

“I know,” he said simply. “But I’ll fight them anyway.”

Before you could argue again, he was gone, the door swinging shut behind him with finality. You sighed, running a hand through your hair, knowing that whatever the clan head had done, they were about to regret it deeply.

Toji didn’t waste time. He wasn’t a man for words—he was a man of action, and his message was always clear. When he arrived at the clan’s estate, curses and whispers followed him, the clan members eyeing him warily.

By the time Toji found the clan head, the tension was palpable. The clan head—an older sorcerer brimming with arrogance—looked at Toji with disdain.

“You dare step onto my grounds uninvited?”

Toji smiled, slow and predatory, the kind of smile that never reached his eyes. “Didn’t think I needed an invitation after you laid your hands on mine.”

The clan head barely had a moment to react before Toji was on him. It wasn’t a fight—it was a message. A brutal, merciless display of power from a man who made a career out of destroying sorcerers who thought they were untouchable.

When it was done, Toji stood over the defeated clan head, his voice cold and final.

“Touch them again, and I’ll tear this whole clan apart.”

Hours later, when Toji returned to you, his knuckles were bruised, his shirt stained with evidence of his work, but his expression was calm. He found you sitting up, waiting for him, worry etched across your face.

“What did you do?” you asked softly.

Toji shrugged, dropping down beside you on the bed. “Taught them a lesson. That’s all.”

“Toji…”

He turned to look at you, his gaze softer now. “They won’t hurt you again. I made sure of it.”

You sighed, leaning into him despite yourself. His arm slid around your shoulders, pulling you closer. For all his rough edges, Toji was your fiercest protector, and in moments like this, you realized just how deeply he cared.

“You’re impossible..”

“Yeah, but you love me for it.”

And though you rolled your eyes, you didn’t argue. Because when Toji Fushiguro promised to keep you safe, he meant it—no matter what it cost.

Sukuna Ryomen

When word reached Sukuna that you—the Queen of Curses—had been kidnapped and hurt by sorcerers, the very ground trembled beneath him. His cursed energy surged, shattering walls as his four eyes narrowed in pure, murderous fury.

“They touched what’s mine?” he growled, his voice low and lethal, filling the air with the promise of death. Without waiting for an answer, Sukuna moved.

You sat bloodied in the center of a cursed circle, seals etched into the ground suppressing your power. Despite the sharp ache in your body, you glared up at the lead sorcerer with defiance, golden eyes gleaming.

“You’ll regret this,” you hissed, your voice steady even as blood dripped from your lip.

The sorcerer smirked. “The King of Curses isn’t untouchable. He’ll come, and we’ll destroy him next.”

A deafening boom echoed through the chamber as the barriers shattered. The air grew thick with malevolence, heavy enough to choke. The sorcerers froze, their faces paling.

“Destroy me?” Sukuna’s voice rang out, cruel and mocking. The double doors burst open, splintering into nothing as Sukuna entered, his aura suffocating. His four eyes gleamed with bloodlust, his grin sharp and feral. “You’ve got guts saying that while you’re still breathing.”

Chaos followed.

Sorcerers screamed as Sukuna descended upon them like a storm, cutting through their bodies with a savage, unstoppable force. Limbs were torn, blood splattered across the walls, and their cries echoed until silence swallowed the room. Sukuna’s fury was absolute, leaving only carnage in his wake.

When the last body fell, he turned to you. His steps were slow, deliberate as he approached, his massive form looming over you. His eyes softened just slightly as they took in your injuries, though his expression remained sharp.

“Sukuna,” you muttered, trying to sit upright, though pain flared through you.

He clicked his tongue, crouching to your level. “You let them do this to you?” His clawed hand brushed against your face, careful despite his strength, his touch surprisingly tender.

“They had their tricks,” you smirked faintly. “It wasn’t exactly fair.”

Sukuna’s lips curled into a dangerous grin. “Fair? I’ll show them fairness.” He reached down, breaking the seals binding your power with little effort, cursed energy flooding back into you like a tidal wave.

His hands slid under you, lifting you into his arms effortlessly. “They dared to harm you, my queen,” he muttered, his tone dark. “And they paid for it. I’ll make sure no one forgets.”

“You’re dramatic,” you teased softly, resting your head against his shoulder.

“And you love me for it,” he shot back, his voice lighter but still edged with menace.

As Sukuna carried you out of the ruined chamber, the devastation he left behind spoke louder than words. The King and Queen of Curses were untouchable, and anyone foolish enough to challenge that truth would be reduced to nothing but ash.

Megumi Fushiguro

Megumi wasn’t someone who showed his emotions easily. He carried himself with a quiet resolve, choosing pragmatism over sentimentality. But when he found you—hurt and bleeding during a mission—something in him snapped.

He found you slumped against the rubble of a half-destroyed building, your breathing labored and your uniform torn, blood staining the ground beneath you.

“Y/N!”

The urgency in his voice startled you, and you forced a weak smile as you looked up at him. “Megumi… hey, you’re here.”

Megumi dropped to his knees beside you, his dark blue eyes scanning your injuries, sharp with both worry and focus. “What the hell happened?”

“Just… underestimated the last curse,” you muttered, wincing as you shifted. “It got in a lucky hit.”

He didn’t reply right away, his jaw clenching as his hands hovered uncertainly over you. He wanted to fix this—to take away the pain you were feeling—but he wasn’t a healer. The frustration simmered beneath his calm exterior.

“You shouldn’t have been alone,” he said finally, his voice low, though you could hear the strain in it.

You sighed, leaning back against the rubble. “It wasn’t supposed to be this bad. I thought I could handle it.”

Megumi’s hands curled into fists, his shoulders tense. “And what if you hadn’t made it?”

The words hung in the air, heavy and unspoken until now. He wasn’t yelling, but the anger was there—anger at the situation, at the curse, and maybe even at himself.

Seeing the concern in his expression, you softened. “But I did make it, Megumi. You’re here now.”

He exhaled sharply, running a hand through his dark hair. “That’s not the point.” Slowly, he steadied himself, reaching out to help you sit up. “I can’t—” He hesitated, his voice quieter now. “I can’t lose you.”

The admission made your heart ache, not just from the injuries but from the weight of his words. Megumi rarely showed this side of himself—the one that cared so deeply it hurt him.

“You won’t,” you reassured him softly, placing your hand over his. “I promise.”

His eyes met yours, searching for reassurance. Finally, he nodded, slipping an arm under your shoulders to help you stand. “Come on,” he murmured, his voice gentler now. “Let’s get you out of here.”

As you leaned into him, Megumi held you firmly, steady and protective. Even in his silence, you could feel it—the way he cared, the way he’d been terrified to find you like this.

And as you walked away from the battlefield together, he made himself a silent promise: next time, he’d be there before you ever got hurt. Because to Megumi Fushiguro, keeping you safe wasn’t just a duty—it was what mattered most.

Yuji Itadori

Yuji Itadori was always the bright light in a dark world—a person who smiled even when the odds were stacked against him. But when he saw you lying hurt on the battlefield, all that light dimmed in an instant.

“Y/N!”

His voice cracked as he sprinted toward you, his feet pounding against the ground. You were slumped against a wall, your breathing shallow, blood staining your uniform. At the sound of his voice, your eyelids fluttered open, and you managed a faint smile.

“Yuji…”

He dropped to his knees beside you, his hands hovering, unsure where to touch. His expression was stricken—wide eyes taking in every bruise, every gash. “What happened? Who—what did this to you?”

You winced, shifting slightly. “The curse got a hit in. It was stronger than I thought.”

Yuji clenched his jaw, his fingers trembling as he pulled a handkerchief from his pocket and pressed it gently to the bleeding wound on your side. “You’re losing too much blood. I need to get you out of here.”

Despite the pain, you reached out and grabbed his wrist. “It’s… okay. I’ll be fine. You don’t have to—”

“Stop,” Yuji said firmly, his voice shaking. “Don’t say that. It’s not okay.”

His usual warmth had vanished, replaced by something sharper—something desperate. “You’re hurt because I wasn’t there fast enough,” he said, his eyes fixed on yours. “I should’ve been there to protect you.”

“You can’t always be everywhere at once, Yuji,” you murmured, trying to soothe him. “You’re not a superhero.”

“That doesn’t matter!” he burst out, his fists clenching. “I promised I’d protect the people I care about—and that means you too. I’m not losing anyone else, Y/N.”

The pain in his voice made your chest ache, more than any injury could. Yuji was carrying so much already—too much for one person—but here he was, breaking under the thought of losing you.

“Yuji,” you said softly, reaching up to cup his face despite your weak state. “I’m still here. You didn’t lose me.”

His expression softened, his eyes glassy as he leaned into your touch. “But you could’ve…” he whispered, his voice barely audible. “I can’t let that happen. Not to you.”

You gave him a small, reassuring smile. “Then just stay with me. That’s all I need.”

He nodded quickly, blinking away the tears threatening to fall. “I’ll get you to Shoko. You’ll be okay—I’ll make sure of it.” Carefully, he lifted you into his arms, holding you close as if afraid you’d disappear.

As he carried you away, Yuji glanced down at you, his expression filled with quiet determination. “Next time, I’ll be there before anything touches you. I swear it.”

And you believed him—because Yuji Itadori didn’t break his promises.

[heavyhitterheaux]

Sink or Swim (NSFW)

AN: Joe girlies I have returned!

Synopsis: After the devastating loss to the Commanders, you knew that a bad mood would be evident with your boyfriend. So his idea of forgetting what happened at least for a few hours has to do with giving you his undivided attention

Requested by @a-moment-captured 💕

DO NOT ENGAGE IF UNDERAGE

Please Do Not Repost My Content Anywhere

There was a look of disbelief on your face as you watched the scene unfold in front of you and saw that the game was almost over when the two minute warning was indicated. The first two weeks in the season obviously had your boyfriend Joe upset and for good reason. But to see the high hopes that he had going into week three just get shot down hurt to watch.

On the sidelines you could see his helmet being thrown as he eventually sat down and the expression on his face was one that you couldn't quite read.

Pulling out your phone, you sent him a quick text knowing that he would read it when he got back to the locker room.

You- Still so proud of you bubs. You played amazing tonight and don't let anyone tell you otherwise 💕

Sighing to yourself, you stood up and began to make your exit out of the stadium to start making your way back to Joe’s condo. It was discussed earlier in the day when you had talked to Joe that you would come over right after the game in anticipation of celebrating with him, but now you weren't so sure if he would even want to be in the mood to have anyone around him right now. After he lost a game, he would understandably get into a mood but you had a feeling that tonight would be a lot worse and more than likely because of who he is, he would be blaming himself.

Climbing into your jeep, you had the radio on a low volume as you pulled out of the stadium parking lot and onto the highway. Joe didn't live very far from the stadium which you were thankful for and leaving before the game was over allowed you to beat some of the traffic that you knew would quickly come after.

Arriving in less than twenty minutes, you turned your car off before grabbing your bag and making your way inside. Your shoes got slipped off at the door as you made your way into the kitchen to find something to snack on since the mozzarella sticks you had at the game were only going to last you but so long.

Glancing at the clock, you noticed it wasn't too late to order a pizza seeing as Joe probably needed some comfort food. You opened up your DoorDash app and quickly ordered it while you waited for Joe to get there. Another 45 minutes had passed with the pizza being kept warm in the oven and you sitting on the couch re-watching Scandal when you heard his key in the door. Once it was opened, it was quickly slammed shut making you jump and the sound was quickly followed by him throwing his bag on the floor at his feet and hearing him sigh.

Still in your jersey from the game that had your boyfriend's name on the back of it, you got up to greet him by the door. His expression was still unreadable when you stood in front of him and slowly tried to take his hands into yours, but he moved away at the last second.

“Bubs….”

Joe didn’t even bother to respond to you as his eyes were closed and he was leaning back against the door.

“What do you need me to do?” You softly asked as you kissed the side of his mouth, trying to get an answer out of him.

When he finally opened his eyes and glanced down at you, his eyes had softened but only slightly as he saw the love of his life in front of him.

“Get upstairs and strip.”

“Mm, gladly. Your wish is my command.”

Nodding your head towards him, he then turned you around to face the stairs as you slowly walked over towards them. Your foot was on the first step when you heard his voice once more.

“You have two minutes to do what I told you, so I suggest you get a move on before I put you there myself.”

Hearing this made a river form in between your thighs and you loved how dominant he could get when the two of you were by yourselves. That happened to be the only good thing that would come out of him losing a game. If this is what he needed to help him get through it, the last thing that you were ever going to do was complain.

Reaching the last step, you still heard him moving around downstairs before you swung the door open to his bedroom which had been left ajar before he left for the game earlier.

Your clothes were then taken off slowly one by one in the hopes of Joe walking in and seeing you. Your shoes had already been thrown off at the door downstairs, the next thing to come off was your jeans that hugged your curves that he loved so much. Next was his jersey and the shirt that you were wearing underneath it in case you got cold. You had started to take off your bra next when you suddenly felt him behind you making you jump. You hadn’t heard him come in as he wrapped his arms around you before leaning down to whisper in your ear.

“I thought I told you to strip? So, why are you still wearing clothes? You like disobeying me?” He asked you before placing a soft kiss on your shoulder.

“No, I was….”

“I don’t want to hear excuses. Do as you’re told the first time so I don’t have to punish you. Now get the rest of those clothes off.” He told you as a light smack was felt across your ass.

You nodded your head and your bra as well as your black thong were quickly removed from your body and discarded onto the floor all while Joe was standing behind you watching you intensely. Once you were finished, he leaned down to your ear once more before he reached around to put two of his fingers up to your mouth that you slowly started to suck on before reaching down and rubbing small circles along your clit making you gasp.

“Mmm, look how wet my baby is. This all for me?” You nodded your head to answer his question because you knew that words were going to fail to come out of your mouth.

“Get on the bed and you better not make a sound unless I fucking tell you to. Face down, ass up.”

Walking over to the bed once Joe moved his fingers away from your core, you slowly got on the bed with the help of him since the bed was so high and crawled to the top of it as you rested your head down on your arms with your ass sticking high up in the air on display for him.

You could hear Joe behind you doing away with his clothes and in a matter of seconds you felt him crawl onto the bed and roughly grab a hold of your hips before slowly entering you and bottoming out as he threw his head back in pleasure.

“Fuck, you feel so good.”

It took everything in you not to let out a gasp and simply put your hand over your mouth as you felt him move out of you before he slammed back in.

His movements were intense and sloppy of course with him letting out his frustrations as you were doing your best to keep quiet. The more he pounded into you, the harder it was becoming and knew that being quiet would only last but so long.

You could feel yourself getting closer to reaching your peak and you soon felt Joe reach underneath of you to massage your clit as he continued to pound into you. This sent you over the edge and you couldn’t help but to let out a small moan but immediately put your hand back over your mouth. But the damage was already done and you tug knew that you would soon be in for it.

“Oooh fuck.”

Hearing this, Joe immediately flipped you over and a hand immediately went around your neck with him squeezing it.

“Did I tell you to fucking speak? I don’t think I did.”

You remained quiet as he let go of your neck as he trailed kisses along it and down your chest with him placing one of your nipples into his mouth as he was rolling the other one between his fingers. It was taking everything in you to stay quiet as your back arched up off of the mattress. His fingers moved on from playing with your nipple to insert two of them into you as he continued to suck on the other one.

Joe noticed that you were squirming and he took it as a sign that you were close and probably frustrated because he told you not to say anything.

“You close baby? I can tell.”

To answer him, you nodded your head as he added another finger making you gasp. His fingers were pumping in and out of you when he decided to replace his fingers with his tongue knowing that it was a matter of seconds before you would come undone in front of him.

“Shiiit!” You couldn’t help but to let out as your hands were directly to his hair to pull him closer to you.

At this point, your legs were wrapped around his neck as he began to suck on your clit making them shake the harder that he did.

“Baby…. I’m….” You started to say, but without warning a gush of liquid was now covering Joe’s face as he was still sucking on your clit making you squirm.

“That’s my good girl. Give me another one, baby. I know you can.”

You immediately shook your head no, but it was clear that Joe didn’t care since he went right back to sucking on your clit. After you squirted all over his face once more, he quickly crawled back up your body as he inserted himself into you.

His movements were more sloppy than before indicating that he was close as he put your legs onto his shoulders as you began to rub your clit.

You had reached your peak for the third time when you felt Joe slide out of you. Knowing what that meant, you immediately sat up and took him in your mouth as you tasted his cum hitting the back of your throat.

“That’s my pretty girl. You better swallow it and not waste a drop.”

Joe had now put your hair in a makeshift ponytail to get it out of the way since he remembered you one time promptly yelling at him when his cum had gotten in your hair after you had gotten it done just hours before.

Once you swallowed everything that didn’t leak out the side of your mouth, you promptly opened it to show Joe who then leaned down to place several kisses on your lips. Once you had laid back, Joe quickly followed suit with him laying on you as you held him tightly to your chest. It was quiet for a few minutes as both of you were trying to even your breathing when he finally spoke.

“We should have won.”

“I know.”

“And even though it wasn’t my fucking fault, I’m going to get the blame for it.”

“I know.”

“We’re 0 and 3 now and I don’t know what to fucking do.”

“The only thing you can do is to go out there and do your best. You played absolutely amazing tonight so this isn’t on you in the slightest even though people will put it on you anyway. I am still so proud of you and I’m always going to be proud of you.” You told him as you placed a kiss on top of his head.

“Proud of a loser boyfriend who can’t win an NFL game?”

“Joseph… talk about yourself like that again. I dare you. Just because you have a few setbacks doesn’t mean that it’s going to be like this forever. I will let you rant all you want tonight, but tomorrow I’m not having it. You are literally the highest paid quarterback in the NFL and you need to fucking act like it.”

“I... guess you’re right.”

“I know I'm right. It's only been three weeks. There's still time to turn this around for the better and I promise to be here through all of it. But did I perform my duties as your girlfriend to help you let your frustrations out?” You asked and he immediately smirked.

“You did more than help me through it, but I definitely didn't say that we were done.” He told you as he picked his head up off of your chest to look at you.

“Wait, what?”

“Switch places with me so you can ride me.”

Taglist

@a-moment-captured

@hoodharlow

@nattinatalia

@wickedfun9

@dandelionwrites8

@keiva1000

[hyewka]

idk if you’ve done this but fwb yeonjun who gets jealous of you being too friendly with other men

warnings; fwb, semi public, a little toxic, not proofread

“Why does Yeonjun keep staring at you? Wait no…glaring at you. Girl. What. Have. You. Done.”

You groan, squeezing your eyes shut, deciding to drown out your thoughts by finishing your drink in one swig. This entire party you’ve been trying to ignore it. His weirdly possessive behavior.

Throwing his hand over your shoulder and snuggling you closer to him than usual, “accidentally” introducing himself as your boyfriend, then the accident turns into an “inside joke” where he just keeps introducing himself as your boyfriend like its the most hilarious thing ever—it’s all too obvious.

But then it’s not.

Not when you decide to look over at him, only to find that his arms are wrapped around a new girl. You roll your eyes. “I fucked him Yunjin. That’s what I did.”

You expect the gasps in horror and “I told you to stay away from him”, “he’s literally a manwhore!” but Yunjin only rolls her eyes making you blink rapidly in shock. “What? I already know you guys are fuckbuddies babe, that doesn’t explain why he’s been attached to your hip the past three hours. Until, well, now.”

You snap your fingers. “You noticed it too right? It’s weird! It feels like he’s jealous but then he goes and sucks another girls face right in front of me—God.” You cut off your tyrant as you feel the sudden urge to vomit watching the girl and Yeonjun get more and more handsy right across from you.

You don’t miss Yunjin’s mutter as she drags your hopeless ass away from the scene, “Fucking manwhore.”

—

Of course the pious Choi Yeonjun, lining up with his behavior the entire night, pulled you by the wrist to a quote secluded area at the party. It’s dark but not entirely…private.

Yet you always fall back into it, you’re always in his arms, despite the setting, not anyone else’s despite being far from exclusive. It’s not your fault he finds you when you’re most horny. Which is why he has you pinned against the wall as he fucks you with the same, if not more eagerness in him.

“Shh baby, we don’t want an audience now do we?” he whispers, taking the lead—you blink away tears, slightly making out the dyed hair had plastered onto his forehead.

You nod frantically as his hand pressed over your mouth, no doubt smudging your lipstick, slowly slips. You squeeze your eyes shut when he rolls his hips against you, thrusting sharply into you, making you slightly jolt up against the wall.

“No, no don’t shut up completely, wanna hear you. Moan my name princess. Only for my ears.” he slurs, the tipsiness evident in his voice.

“Yeonjun.” you gasp for air, “Yeonjun—no, f-fuck.”

“What?” he breathes, busying himself with pressing kisses all over your neck, stably holding you up against the wall with his arms, pressing his body flush against yours.

“What the fuck is your problem?”

It’s like he didn’t expect the sudden aggression, pausing his hungry attack to your neck for a second—until you feel his lips curl up into what you assume to be a smile against your skin again. He’ll always be a cocky prick.

You feel his breath fan, as he picks up a more rhythmic speed. “Hm?” he hums, like he’s innocent. Sly fox.

You scratch at his back, curling his shirt’s fabric into your hand, breath hitching the more he hits a spot, like he’s brutally digging into your cervix. “Don’t—don’t act dumb. Pulling me away like a child from Juyeon like that was so-” suddenly, he drives his cock further, having your body bounce like a fucking ragdoll. It’s like he’s trying to shut you up.

“It was so—mmf-embarrassing.” you manage to mewl, trying not to let yourself fall into a headspace.

“Aw. Was it?” he mocks, scoffing, hand slipping down to rub at your clit, making your legs weak like jelly all the more as they tremble to keep wrapped around his waist. “You know what’s embarrassing? Everyone knowing you’re mine yet you still having the audacity to whore yourself out.”

You gasp, scandalized—though the shock doesn’t linger on for too long—not when he’s practically splitting you open.

He hides his face between the junction of your neck and shoulder, suddenly biting down having your body jolt in pain— you let out a string of hissed curses. “Laughing at every dumb joke Juyeon makes? You know he’s not even that funny right?”

His tongue licks, then he sucks, over and over again.

“God, and then slapping his shoulder, smiling at him like he’s the shit.” He dryly laughs, getting rough the faster he rubs, “So fucking annoying.”

“Yeonjun.”

It’s like he knows what you’re going to say, and he’s trying his absolute hardest from getting you to say it, so he immediately presses his lips against yours, your moans drowned out against his. It’s sloppy, but he doesn’t stop. He kisses you, again and again and again, finding your hands to intertwine with his, pinning it against the wall. It’s so…oddly intimate.

You don’t get it, you don’t. The last time you had seen him, he was about to fuck a girl right then and there for all to see then the next he’s pulling you away like an angry boyfriend who caught his girlfriend cheating.

In fact, this isn’t even the first time. Hes always acted like a boyfriend, so much so everyone was sure you guys were together for a period of time before he was off fucking some other bitch again.

It …pisses you off.

Your orgasm washes over you, the tightening finally snapping as you finally get to breathe, heaving, seeing white as you catch your breath while simultaneously feeling Yeonjun cum in you, again. Was that the issue? Letting him keep doing that? Was that your first mistake?

“Fuck, that was nice.” He says, out of breath, staying inside for a couple more seconds before finally slipping out of you.

But you’re out of it, staring at the ground. “Hey, you good?” he asks, as he pulls up his pants. “Want me to get tissues real qui-”

“Yeonjun. We’re not exclusive.”

He pauses for a second.

Then, he laughs, buckling his jeans, “No shit?”

“So…why do you act like we are?”

note: lol has anyone noticed how often i cut off with some dumbass cliffhanger 😭 yup thats just me not knowing how to end a fic properly ijbol forgive me 🙏🏼

[notjustjavierpena]

King

Series Masterpost | Main Masterpost | Support a disabled creator

A/N: A happy return my dark sugardaddy!joel. It’s truly been too long. I hope you enjoy his dark and looming presence.

Summary: You do what it takes to get that car you’ve wanted for a while.

Pairing: Joel Miller x f!reader/you (no y/n)

Tags: +18 smut, sugardaddy/sugarbaby dynamics, abusive relationship, dom/sub dynamics, hint at virginity kink, power dynamics, reader calls joel ‘king’. daddy kink, light bondage, verbal humiliation, demeaning talk about sex work, praise kink, slapping, manhandling, dacryphilia, choking, rough piv sex, cream pie, no aftercare

Word count: 3.3k

Link to this work on AO3: https://archiveofourown.org/works/56477767

King

You run your fingers down over the front of your little black dress. It’s not your favorite but it doesn’t matter as it is not the centerpiece of your outfit, mischievously hiding an emerald green set of lingerie underneath it that peeks out from under the hem in the form of a garter belt. 

The silk underwear is new, bought only last week when Joel took you shopping for something new to tear to pieces. He’d chosen this color very carefully but you suspect that it had really been the heart-shaped gap between your legs that had made it sell itself. You knew instantly then, from the way his eyes had darkened and his suit pants had tightened, that it would become a useful weapon in getting what you wanted. Not that you would ever say it out loud (and you suspect that he knows) but Joel is sometimes easy to read, easy to wrap around your finger if you let him do as he pleases. He cares about your happiness and wants but he just doesn’t like to say it out loud, likes to play games so it looks like it is his idea. You’re happy to indulge him in this fantasy if you end up benefiting from it anyway. 

The black dress has no uneven ruffles but you still smooth it out underneath your palms. Then you head to his king-sized bed, toeing off your shoes, and decide to take a nap on your front until he gets home. He doesn’t even know you have a mission. 

Joel arrives home a few hours later. You wake up from the sound of his car crunching the gravel of his driveway, announcing his arrival like an impending hurricane that has consciousness to be merciful but only if it likes. You imagine the scene in your head; the sight of the car coming to a jarring halt, the door being opened and a single foot hitting the solid ground. 

You get out of bed immediately with your heart pounding at the thought of seeing him in just a moment. You leave your shoes behind as you exit the bedroom, tiptoeing out into the hall to peer down at the front door from the top of the enormous staircase. 

You can hear the jingle of his keys and then he is framed in the doorway, a dark shadow in contrast to the pining sunlight outside. He looks around for you for a moment, surveying his large home with a presence that fills the space completely. 

You try to steady your breathing so as to not reveal yourself to be spying on him, taking note of how he carries himself and what mood radiates from him. Sometimes it’s not the right time to ask for things. Sometimes it’s better to just spread your legs or open your mouth. 

However, Joel simply closes the door and lets out a tired, relieved breath, hand coming up to run across his forehead and using two fingers to pinch the bridge of his nose. His shoulders slump at this moment that he thinks he is alone, and you release a breath that you didn’t know you have been holding in as you find no clenched fists or angry muttering to himself. 

You make your way back to his bedroom and decide that sitting obediently on the edge of the bed, posing as someone who has been waiting to make his life easier, is the best way forward. 

It takes a little while before you hear his footsteps approaching outside the room. He opens the door slowly, entering the room with his still impressive demeanor. You give him a little smile and push yourself to stand, making your way towards him and pecking his lips when you stand in front of him. 

“Hey,” he says, only a hint of warmth in his tired voice. He reaches out to place a hand on your waist, his grip on your body feeling more like a claim than a comfort.

“You look tired,” you note and cup his cheek with your dominant hand. He closes his eyes briefly as if drawing something from your touch, draining something out of you. When he opens them again, they go down to take in your appearance. His grip on your waist tightens. 

“And you look…” he begins but is unsure how to compliment the effort you’ve put into your outfit that’s only for him. It seems like he genuinely wants to say something nice until his eyes narrow in suspicion, “What’s this for?” 

“I want a new car,” you let him tower over you as you decide to be bold in his fatigued state. Your fingers come up to peel the straps of your dress off, letting them droop down over your delicate skin for just a second before pulling the rest of the dress down to pool around your feet. You step out of it, don’t dare smile in case he might see it as smugness.

Joel looks unimpressed, disappointed even. He narrows his eyes further, a flicker of irritation across his face. He lets go of your body as if you are suddenly not interesting anymore, reaches to undo the knot on his tie, “Take one of my old ones. I have plenty… and with the way ya drive I shouldn’t be spendin’ so much goddamn money on somethin’ new and shiny because you’re bored of your other toys.”

“Joel,” you pout, entwining your fingers in front of you to make your arms squeeze your breasts together tightly while you push out your bottom lip. 

“That ain’t my name,” he replies and briefly looks down at your cleavage, “And what? The little princess didn’t like her pony? You’re so fuckin’ spoiled. A dumb cliché.” 

“Daddy,” you correct yourself and he nods once. You walk backward towards the bed, crawling onto it and making sure he watches you with every step you take, teasing the bottomless panties while doing it. You sit on your knees, his favorite submissive position, and smile with the hope of making his dick hard. It’ll make this so much easier, “Please. I can earn it. I can be a good girl.”

“Show me whatcha got,” he tells you, his tone letting you know that his attention is fleeting so you better make use of it now that you have it. 

You lay down on your front, propping yourself up on your elbows by resting your chin in your hands. You give him a sweet, doe-eyed smile, “Honey, you’ve had such a long day.”

“Nope,” he rejects the fantasy with a bored expression but still takes one step closer to the bed, “Try again.”

You try not to let him see the frustration on your face that your first fantasy fell through, recovering quickly by getting up on your slightly-spread knees. You grab the end of the bed, leaning forward to make your position even more provocative. 

“It’s my first time, Daddy,” you say with a pout, blinking your long lashes at him, “I’m a little nervous. I’m so wet between my legs. Can you tell me what’s happening to me?” 

Even as Joel swallows thickly, he shakes his head while he walks to the side of the bed. He stares at you from a few feet away from the edge, “No. Again.” 

You notice that he is getting hard but you know him well enough to tell that it is from the game that you are playing with each other right now and not from how you look or act. He gets off on the power he has over you, and you feel yourself getting excited from it too. 

Power. That’s the one. 

You crawl forward and lay down on your back on the vulgarly huge bed, staring up at him as you swing your legs out over the edge of it. You spread them slowly to make his gaze burn, revealing the heart-shaped hole in your panties and your soaked pussy that he can slide into if he wants. All he has to do is take a few steps forward and lift your thighs over his hips. 

Joel is too easy sometimes but mostly when he’s in one of his good moods. He stands beside the bed not a second later, looking down at you with awaiting eyes. You know exactly which words to make him fuck you until you cry, even feel a little silly that it hadn’t occurred to you the second you saw him enter the house. 

You give him a hazy look, holding your thighs open for him. His gaze bores into yours and you swear that he can read your mind. Even so, you don’t blink or cower under the look of God. 

“You’re my king, Daddy.”

“Attagirl, that’s better,” he praises to make your skin prickle and your chest feel ablaze.

Something in Joel’s eyes darkens with the idea of being superior in every way and the spark of fire that you have ignited only seems to grow when you don’t try to act like this isn’t the case but instead give in and let him know just how beneath him you are. Figuratively and literally. 

He reaches for his belt, unbuckling it with rough hands as he plans your demise in his head, all kindness seeping out of his face as if the way he praised you seconds ago simply didn’t happen. There’s something about those Shinigami eyes, teasing the border between fear and arousal. The urgency of his movements tells you that it’ll hurt for days but the pretty things that you’ll receive in return are worth not being able to stand upright for a while. You calm your beating heart by listing cars in your mind, choosing colors, models, and leather seats. 

You return to reality when you hear Joel’s fingers snap in front of your face. He sneers, kneeling on the bed with one knee and pulling off his tie completely, “Don’tcha fuckin’ think you get to decide what car you’re gettin’, honey. If you want one, I decide. We clear?”

You watch with pleading eyes, knowing you should say something but faltering because all you want to do is complain about his decision. There goes that dream of an expensive Aston Martin, the one that has kept you scrolling through your phone.

“You dare make your King wait?” He spits harshly when you don’t answer quickly enough, his eyes going practically black with rage. There’s no emotion in them anymore, not even when you whimper at his tone. He reaches out for your arms, violently yanking them towards himself so he can wrap the tie around your wrists, and the panic that you feel suddenly starts to make you cry. He ties a painful knot, securing your arms tightly until he pushes them over your head, “You don’t behave then you don’t getta touch.” 

You whine with tears at the corners of your eyes, looking away in shame in the way that he likes. However, it is actually a punishment because you do really like touching him - or at least just hold onto him, which you still can but you don’t dare move your arms back down - when he fucks you. The avoidance of his powerful eyes earns you a slap to your right breast, and you yelp in surprise. 

“I’m sorry, Daddy,” you babble, barely able to croak out a coherent reply whilst you twist on the sheets from the unprepared sting to your chest. As you turn your body to the side, subconsciously trying to protect yourself from more painful strikes, you curl in on yourself and thus pull your legs shut, “You know best, I-I know. I understand.”

“Lie still, ya bimbo. I saw that hole between ya legs drippin’ wet, so you’re gonna lemme use it or you won’t get as much as a damn penny for your stupid new obsession,” he curls his calloused hands around your thighs until they dent the skin and maneuvers you onto back once more. He holds your legs open, knees pressing into the mattress until you feel as though your hips might dislocate. He stares down between your legs, smiling to himself at the heart shape in your panties. The stitching of it is coated in your slick, obscene in how creamy and white it is compared to the emerald color of the fabric. Joel makes a primal sound, “Daddy fuckin’ likes. God, I am gonna ruin ya, baby, ruin this well-behaved pussy.”

“Just for you, Daddy. It’s all just for you, I promise, money or not,” you cry quietly with your bottom lip sticking out, wiggling your hips as much as you can under his powerful weight to show how desperate you are for him. You want to tell him that he already has ruined you. Oh, how thoroughly he has ruined you and ruined everyone else for you. However, no one should make the mistake of thinking you have not let him, no, you have waited for him to find you in a sea of unimportant and tedious nobodies, and fuck, you love him for it. Even if he makes you cry. 

“That’s right, just f’me,” he smiles down at you almost tenderly whilst removing one hand from your thigh to undo his pants. You smile with wet cheeks, eyes glazed over as he hurries to get his cock out, the head red and angry from not having enough attention. You put on a show of looking like your life depends entirely upon whether he gets inside of you soon. 

“You want Daddy to fuck ya? Fuck ya so I’ll give in like I always fuckin’ do?” He aligns himself with you, gliding the thick head of his length through your soaked folds. 

“Please,” you choke out feebly when he starts to spear you on his dick, feeding you inch by inch with his girth until your whole lower body buzzes with greed. Your tied-up hands grip the sheets above your head, your breath shaky as he drapes your thighs over his hips when he has bottomed out inside you. 

Your voice wavers as he starts moving inside of you, setting a painful pace that has your eyes rolling back into your skull, your body thrashing, and your moans climbing in pitch like you are possessed. He knows what you like and you can feel he might be generous about it today. After all, you’ve put in so much effort to look nice and what would a King be if he couldn’t exceed in everything? That means even your pleasure.

He leans over you when you tighten your legs around his waist, rough hands settling on your hip bones so he can grind harshly into you. You beg for him, pleading his name as if in prayer again and again. His pelvis nudges at your swollen yet untouched clit. It causes you to scream and grab harder at the sheets as your orgasm builds up fast. You sob on the shaking bed as he puts more effort into each thrust. The head of his cock molds you to fit him each time, reaching something inside of you that has you sizzling with ecstasy in a way that no man has ever made possible before. You didn’t even know you could come like this, so intensely, before you met him but despite his talent, he is cruel even in his generosity. 

“You’re gettin’ fucked for a dumb car, you know that?” He growls above you, staring down at your wide eyes and open mouth. He moans with a smirk, “You know what that makes ya?” 

He keeps you on the edge with his thrusts, teasing an orgasm that he doesn’t allow to come yet. In the most frustrating of ways, you find that even if he exceeds in making you come, it’s not a given that he’ll just hand it over to you. Nothing is ever out of the goodness of his heart. You nod frantically as if it’ll make him think you are anything other than pathetic, “Yes! Oh God, yes, please.”

“Say it, sweetheart,” he demands, splaying a hand on your chest and letting it travel up to rest on your neck. However, he doesn’t squeeze to watch your face heat up in panic or push his merciless thumb into your windpipe. Instead, he waits for you to follow orders. 

“A whore, Daddy,” you reply with a whimper, driven crazy by the unreleased tension in your lower belly. You scrunch your eyebrows, “Please— ah, l-let me come.”

“That’s right, a filthy, little, gold-diggin’ whore,” he lets out a sound that’s a mix between a laugh and a moan. Those words make your cunt clench around his cock, walls squeezing enough to make him switch up his pace. His thrusts become sharp and erratic, sending you hurtling towards your high so quickly that you throw your head back and involuntarily twist your arms as much as you can. 

You come with Joel’s violent grip on your throat, with your tits bouncing in the skimpy outfit and your pussy gushing on his dick when your clit happily gets its way. He follows behind you, panting in exhaustion as he finally gets pushed over the edge by how you pulse around him with each beat of your fluttering heart. He is warm inside you, making a mess of your panties with how much already spills out of you around his girth. 

It’s intense even in its aftermath. None of you move for a moment and the body heat radiating from you to him and vice versa has you sticking to each other. Joel has a palm on the bed while the other grabs at one of your thighs that are still slung around his body. He strokes up and down to soothe you but only to slip loose of the hot choke of your pussy. 

You look up at him with a soft whimper when you’re left empty, knowing not to say any actual words yet. Silently, he unties your wrist and you gaze longingly at him as he leans over you to do so. He is so commanding even when he has not uttered a word. Above you, he looks so beautifully disheveled - some of his curls have fallen into his forehead, one sticks to the sweat there - and when he is done, he quietly starts unbuttoning his shirt. 

Once naked on his chest, he stares and thinks about something for less than a second. He is quick in his evaluation of the situation, finally stepping out of his bottoms. He takes his time to dig into the pocket of his discarded pants, retrieving his wallet and you wait as patiently as you can muster as the anticipation grows.

“I think that dirty fuck deserves an Aston Martin at the very least, don’tcha think?” He smiles knowingly but it doesn’t reach his eyes and places his sleek black card on the bed. You hear him mutter the word pathetic as you reach for the card but when you peek up at him, you can see the way he takes pleasure in rewarding you when you so successfully display the thrill you feel in earning it. 

Your body aches but you prop yourself up on your elbows, grinning with tear-streaked cheeks, “Thank you, Daddy.” 

Joel leans down over you once more, capturing your lips in a possessive kiss and tangling his hand in your hair to make you unable to pull back. He knows how to show you who is in charge but he sets it in stone when he only draws back an inch after breaking the kiss again. 

“Remember, baby,” he murmurs, voice raspy with sex, “You only get what you deserve and you’ve been very deservin’ today.”

“Can I shower with you?” You smile sweetly. It seems like the right time to ask for a bit of intimacy. 

Joel huffs a laugh and shakes his head, “No. Lie in it.”

He disappears after that. Your smile does too.

.

.

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[songbirdseung]

love potion / lee heeseung - requested

at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, Lee Heeseung and you have always been rivals, each determined to outshine the other in every class, duel, and academic challenge. their heated competition has been the talk of the school since their first year, with neither willing to back down or admit any weakness. but when a special project forces them to work together, they begin to see each other in a new light. wc 14k genre hogwarts au, academic rivals au, enemies to lovers warnings im not a potterhead, so if my references or knowledge is off, i apologize thank you anon for the request

you were calmly making your way through the crowd toward the bulletin board, where the top students in astronomy would soon be announced. head held high with the confidence that your name would remain at the top, you moved forward as the other students stepped aside. you nodded in silent thanks, then waited for the results.

"well, isn't it my best friend, yn." of course, it was him. you looked to your left, offering the tall male a fake smile.

"heeseung."

"yn."

your enemy, your arch-nemesis, your rival—lee heeseung. a gryffindor with a knack for pushing your buttons and getting under your skin. he never missed a chance to challenge you, always eager to knock you off your pedestal.

"my favorite ravenclaw, ready to step down a rank?" he teased, his chuckle following as you rolled your eyes.

"still dreaming?" you nudged him, turning your attention back to the board.

you and heeseung had been the top students in your year since your very first day at hogwarts. your rivalry was as old as your time at the school, with each of you trying to outdo the other in every subject, every exam, and every challenge that came your way. both of you were fiercely competitive, and your battle for the number one spot was legendary among your peers.

yet, despite the constant competition, there was a mutual respect between you—an unspoken acknowledgment of each other's talent and determination. but that didn’t stop either of you from doing whatever it took to come out on top. today was no different, and as the results were about to be revealed, the tension between you was palpable.

"let's see if the results speak for themselves," you muttered, eyes locked on the board as the names started to appear.

"i guess we'll find out," heeseung replied, his tone teasing but with an edge of anticipation.

as you stood there, waiting for the results, your mind drifted back to your first year at hogwarts—back to when this rivalry with heeseung began.

it had all started in your first potions class. you were both twelve, eager to prove yourselves, and it didn’t take long for sparks to fly. professor snape had just finished explaining the day’s assignment, a simple potion to test your skills. you were confident, already preparing your ingredients with precision, when you noticed him glancing your way.

“think you can manage this without blowing up your cauldron?” heeseung had whispered, his voice dripping with sarcasm.

“worry about your own potion, heeseung,” you shot back, not even bothering to look up. but the challenge in his tone was unmistakable, and you felt a surge of determination to outdo him.

the class had been tense, the air thick with unspoken competition. every movement he made, every precise cut of his ingredients, only fueled your resolve. you’d both finished your potions at nearly the same time, and when professor snape evaluated them, he had given you both identical marks—top scores, of course. neither of you had been satisfied with the tie.

from that day on, it was a constant game of one-upmanship. every assignment, every test, every chance to prove who was the better student was met with the same intensity. your interactions were always tense, filled with sarcastic remarks and thinly veiled insults, but there was something else there too—an undeniable spark that kept you both on your toes.

as the memory faded, you found yourself back in the present, standing next to heeseung once again. the tension between you was still there, just as it had been from the start.

the results began to appear on the board, each name materializing in glowing script. your eyes scanned the list, heart pounding in anticipation. then, you saw it—your name, right at the top where it belonged.

a breath of relief escaped your lips, quickly followed by a triumphant smile. you had done it. again.

right beneath your name, heeseung’s appeared, just a point behind you. so close, yet not close enough.

heeseung’s eyes narrowed as he took in the results, his usual smirk faltering for just a moment. “looks like you’re still holding on,” he said, the edge in his voice impossible to miss.

“just barely,” you replied, unable to resist the dig. “maybe next time, heeseung.”

he let out a short laugh, shaking his head. “we’ll see about that. enjoy it while it lasts.”

you met his gaze, the familiar mix of rivalry and respect sparking between you. there was no need for more words; the scoreboard had spoken. but as you turned to leave, you couldn’t shake the feeling that this battle was far from over. heeseung was nothing if not persistent, and you knew he’d be back, ready to challenge you again.

the following week, the rivalry between you and heeseung only intensified. it was an unspoken rule now—every class, every moment, was a new battleground.

in defense against the dark arts, professor lupin had just paired you with heeseung for a dueling exercise. as you stood across from each other, wands at the ready, the air was thick with tension. the rest of the class watched in anticipation, fully aware of the competitive history between the two of you.

“expelliarmus!” heeseung was quick, but you were quicker, deflecting his spell with ease before countering with a well-aimed “protego!” the duel was fast-paced, each of you pushing the other to the limit, neither willing to back down. the room buzzed with energy as your classmates murmured, eyes glued to the battle unfolding before them.

it wasn’t just in defense against the dark arts where the competition was fierce. in every class, you and heeseung were neck and neck, always vying for the top spot. whether it was transfiguration, potions, or charms, the two of you were constantly being compared—by your peers, by the professors, and even by yourselves.

“excellent work, miss yn,” professor mcgonagall would say, only to follow it with, “and you too, mr. heeseung, as always.” there was no escaping the constant comparisons, the subtle remarks from professors who couldn’t help but pit you against each other.

your classmates had started to place bets on who would come out on top in the next exam or who would win the next duel. it was as if your rivalry had become a sport, a source of entertainment for the entire school.

as the duel between you and heeseung reached its peak, a burst of laughter erupted from the back of the room. jay, jake, and ni-ki, heeseung’s closest friends, had been watching the entire time, their eyes glinting with amusement.

“you two are at it again,” jay called out, his tone teasing. “honestly, yn, you’re going to give heeseung a complex if you keep this up.”

jake smirked, leaning against the wall with a casual air. “or maybe it’s the other way around? heeseung, don’t tell me you’re going easy on her.”

heeseung shot them a look, a mix of irritation and amusement flashing in his eyes. “as if. you know i never back down from a challenge.”

ni-ki, the youngest of the group, couldn’t help but add, “this is getting good. professor lupin should just let you two go at it every class. way more interesting than the usual lessons.”

you rolled your eyes at their comments, but couldn’t help the slight grin that tugged at your lips. their banter was all part of the routine now, just like your rivalry with heeseung. still, you weren’t about to let their remarks distract you.

“you might want to focus, heeseung,” you said, your voice dripping with mock sweetness. “i’d hate for your friends to see you lose.”

heeseung’s gaze snapped back to you, the competitive fire in his eyes reigniting. “oh, i’m focused,” he replied, his tone low and determined. “let’s see if you can keep up.”

with that, the duel resumed, your wands clashing with renewed intensity. jay, jake, and ni-ki continued to make their remarks, laughing and egging heeseung on, but you tuned them out. all that mattered was winning—proving that you were still the best, even with the added pressure of an audience.

the room seemed to hold its breath as you and heeseung traded spells, each trying to outmaneuver the other. you could feel the eyes of your classmates on you, the whispers and murmurs growing louder with each passing second.

finally, professor lupin stepped in, raising his wand to separate the two of you. “enough, that’s enough,” he said, though there was a hint of a smile on his face. “excellent dueling, both of you. i think that’s enough excitement for one class.”

you and heeseung lowered your wands, breathing heavily but refusing to break eye contact. jay, jake, and ni-ki applauded, their laughter filling the room as they moved to join heeseung, slapping him on the back and throwing more teasing comments his way.

“nice try, yn,” jay said with a grin. “but you know heeseung’s just getting warmed up.”

“we’ll see about that,” you replied, your competitive spirit as strong as ever. you knew this wasn’t the end—far from it.

class ended, but the tension between you and heeseung lingered like a storm cloud. as the students filed out of the classroom, you gathered your things, feeling a simmering frustration that you couldn't quite shake. heeseung, flanked by jay, jake, and ni-ki, was the last to leave, and you could feel his gaze on you as you shoved your books into your bag.

"you really think you can keep this up forever?" heeseung's voice cut through the air, stopping you in your tracks. you turned to face him, your eyes flashing with anger.

"what’s that supposed to mean?" you snapped, your patience wearing thin.

heeseung stepped closer, his expression hardening. "you act like you're invincible, yn. like no one can touch you. but newsflash: you’re not unbeatable."

you took a step forward, refusing to back down. "and you act like you're the only one who can challenge me. but you’re always just a step behind, aren’t you?"

jay, jake, and ni-ki exchanged glances, sensing the rising tension but staying silent, their eyes flicking between you and heeseung.

"maybe it’s time you realized that being at the top isn’t just about grades," heeseung shot back, his voice low and edged with frustration. "it’s about how you handle the pressure, how you treat the people around you. and from where I’m standing, you’ve got a lot to learn."

the words stung, and you felt your cheeks flush with anger. "and what about you, heeseung? always so smug, always so sure you’re going to knock me down. newsflash: you haven’t succeeded yet."

heeseung’s jaw tightened, and for a moment, you saw a flicker of something more—something almost vulnerable. but it was gone as quickly as it appeared, replaced by the familiar competitive fire.

"we’ll see about that," he said, his voice barely above a whisper. "this isn’t over, yn. not by a long shot."

you glared at him, your heart pounding in your chest. "bring it on, heeseung."

with that, you turned on your heel and stormed out of the classroom, leaving heeseung and his friends behind. the echoes of your argument lingered in the hallway, a testament to the fierce rivalry that defined your time at hogwarts.

as you stormed down the corridor, trying to push the argument with heeseung out of your mind, you heard hurried footsteps behind you. before you could turn, sunoo, jungwon, and sunghoon appeared at your side, concern written all over their faces.

“yn, wait up!” sunoo called out, his tone softer than usual. when he caught sight of your expression, his eyes widened. “what happened? you look like you’re about to hex someone.”

jungwon shot a worried glance at sunoo before focusing on you. “was it heeseung again? we saw him talking to you after class.”

you let out a frustrated sigh, running a hand through your hair as you tried to calm yourself down. “yeah, it was heeseung. who else would it be?”

sunghoon, always the calm and collected one, placed a reassuring hand on your shoulder. “you can’t let him get to you like this, yn. he’s just trying to mess with your head.”

“i know,” you muttered, but the anger still simmered beneath the surface. “it’s just—he gets under my skin so easily. he acts like he’s always just one step away from beating me, and it drives me crazy.”

sunoo, ever the empathetic one, frowned. “but you always come out on top, yn. you know that. heeseung’s just trying to throw you off your game.”

jungwon nodded in agreement. “and we’re here to make sure he doesn’t. you’re better than him, and you know it.”

you couldn’t help but feel a bit of the tension ease at their words. they always knew how to pull you back from the edge, reminding you of your strengths and why you were the top student.

“thanks, guys,” you said, managing a small smile. “i just… i don’t know why he gets to me like this.”

sunghoon gave your shoulder a gentle squeeze. “because he’s your rival. it’s natural. but remember, we’re all in this together. we’ve got your back, no matter what.”

sunoo grinned, his usual brightness returning. “and if heeseung gives you any more trouble, we’ll deal with him. right, guys?”

jungwon and sunghoon both nodded, their expressions determined. “absolutely,” jungwon added. “you’re not alone in this, yn.”

their support brought a wave of relief, and you felt the anger start to dissipate, replaced by a renewed sense of determination. with friends like these by your side, you knew you could handle whatever heeseung—and the rivalry—threw your way.

“thanks,” you said again, this time with more confidence. “i needed that.”

“anytime,” sunghoon replied with a smile. “now, how about we grab something from the kitchens? nothing like a good snack to take your mind off things.”

sunoo’s eyes lit up at the suggestion. “great idea! let’s go.”

the next morning, you sat in transfiguration, trying to focus as professor mcgonagall addressed the class. but your mind was still replaying the argument with heeseung from the day before, the tension between the two of you lingering like a dark cloud.

“today, we will begin a special project,” professor mcgonagall announced, her stern gaze sweeping across the room. “this project will require you to work in pairs, combining your knowledge and skills to complete a challenging task over the next few weeks.”

the class buzzed with excitement and nervous whispers as students exchanged glances, already wondering who they’d be paired with. you exchanged a quick look with sunoo, who was sitting beside you, silently hoping you’d get paired with one of your friends.

professor mcgonagall continued, her voice cutting through the chatter. “i’ve taken the liberty of assigning the pairs myself. the purpose of this project is not only to test your abilities but also to challenge you to work effectively with others.”

your heart sank at the mention of assigned pairs. you braced yourself, hoping for the best but expecting the worst.

“yn,” professor mcgonagall’s voice rang out, and your stomach tightened with anxiety. “you will be paired with… heeseung.”

a collective gasp and a few stifled giggles spread through the classroom as your worst fear was confirmed. your eyes darted to heeseung, who was sitting a few rows away. his expression mirrored your own—shock, followed by a flash of irritation.

sunoo, sitting next to you, shot you a sympathetic look. “i can’t believe this,” he whispered, his voice filled with disbelief.

“there must be some mistake,” you muttered under your breath, but you knew there wasn’t. professor mcgonagall’s decisions were final, and there was no way out of this.

heeseung’s friends, jay, jake, and ni-ki, exchanged amused glances, barely containing their laughter. ni-ki leaned over and whispered something to heeseung, who responded with a roll of his eyes and a barely concealed grimace.

“i expect both of you to put your differences aside and work together,” professor mcgonagall added, her tone leaving no room for argument. “this project is a significant part of your grade, and i trust you’ll take it seriously.”

you swallowed hard, trying to keep your composure as the rest of the pairs were announced. by the time professor mcgonagall finished, your mind was racing with a thousand thoughts, all centered around the fact that you were now stuck working with heeseung.

as class ended, you gathered your things slowly, dreading the inevitable conversation with him. you could already feel the tension building, the animosity between you growing thicker by the second.

heeseung approached you, his expression unreadable. for a moment, the two of you just stared at each other, the weight of the situation hanging heavy in the air.

“well,” he finally said, his tone clipped. “looks like we’re stuck together.”

“it’s not like i’m thrilled about this either,” you shot back, your frustration bubbling to the surface. “but i’m not about to let this project tank my grade, so let’s just get it over with.”

heeseung’s eyes narrowed slightly, but he nodded in agreement. “fine. but don’t think for a second that i’m going to go easy on you.”

“i wouldn’t expect you to,” you replied, your voice firm.

despite your protests and the obvious tension between you and heeseung, there was no escaping the inevitable. the project was set in stone, and you both knew there was no way out of it. after class, professor mcgonagall handed each pair a parchment detailing their assigned project. as you and heeseung opened yours, the complexity of the task became immediately clear.

“ancient magical artifacts?” you muttered, scanning the details. “we’re supposed to research, analyze, and present our findings on three different artifacts from the restricted section?”

heeseung frowned, clearly not thrilled either. “and we have to perform a demonstration of how they were used in their time? this is going to be a nightmare.”

“it’s not like we have a choice,” you replied, trying to keep the frustration out of your voice. “we’ll need to go to the restricted section as soon as possible to get started.”

heeseung glanced at you, a mixture of reluctance and resignation in his eyes. “yeah, I guess so. let’s just get this over with.”

the two of you made your way to the library, the tension between you palpable. as you walked in silence, you couldn’t help but reflect on how strange this situation was. after years of rivalry and animosity, you were now forced to work together on one of the most challenging projects either of you had ever faced.

in the library, you approached madam pince, the stern librarian who guarded the restricted section with an iron fist. after showing her your parchment and explaining the project, she reluctantly allowed you both access, though not without a sharp warning to handle the books with care.

once inside the restricted section, you and heeseung began the painstaking process of searching for information on the artifacts. the atmosphere was heavy, the air thick with the scent of old parchment and dust. as you leafed through ancient tomes and scrolls, the silence between you grew more uncomfortable by the minute.

finally, heeseung broke the silence. “look, we need to split this up if we’re going to get anywhere. how about we each take one artifact to research on our own, and then we’ll work on the third together?”

you looked up from the book you were skimming, considering his proposal. “fine,” you agreed, though you couldn’t help the edge in your voice. “but we need to make sure we’re thorough. this project is going to be tough, and i’m not about to let my grade suffer because of sloppy work.”

heeseung shot you a sharp look. “i’m not sloppy, yn. i know how to handle a project like this. just focus on your part, and i’ll focus on mine.”

you sighed, biting back a retort. the last thing you needed was another argument. “fine,” you repeated, turning back to the book in front of you. “let’s just get this done.”

as the hours passed, you and heeseung worked in near silence, occasionally exchanging a terse comment or asking a quick question, but mostly staying in your own worlds. the artifacts you were researching were fascinating—each one held powerful magic and a rich history—but the tension between you and heeseung made it hard to focus.

by the time you’d gathered enough information to start working on your individual parts, the sun had begun to set outside, casting long shadows across the library. you closed your book with a tired sigh, glancing at heeseung, who was still deep in his research.

“we should call it a day,” you said, breaking the silence. “we can start writing up our findings tomorrow.”

heeseung looked up, his expression unreadable. “yeah, we’ll need to if we want to stay on track.”

you both gathered your things, and as you left the library, the weight of the project—and your partnership—settled heavily on your shoulders. it was clear that this collaboration was going to be anything but easy. the animosity between you and heeseung was still there, simmering just beneath the surface, but now it was mixed with something else—an uneasy alliance, born out of necessity rather than choice.

as you walked back to your common room, you couldn’t help but wonder how you were going to survive the next few weeks. the project was complex, the stakes were high, and you were stuck working with the one person who always seemed to bring out the worst in you.

but despite the tension and the challenges ahead, one thing was certain: you weren’t going to let heeseung beat you. not now, not ever.

the next few days were a blur of bickering, frustration, and barely suppressed anger as you and heeseung tried to navigate the complexities of your project. from the moment you met up in the library each day, the tension between you was almost unbearable, and it didn’t take long for the disagreements to start.

“we need to focus more on the historical context,” you insisted one afternoon, your voice rising in frustration. “the way these artifacts were used is just as important as the magic they contain.”

heeseung rolled his eyes, clearly not in the mood to agree. “we can’t get bogged down in the history, yn. the practical applications of the magic are what really matter. if we don’t demonstrate that, our project is going to fall flat.”

you shot him a glare, feeling your temper flare. “and if we ignore the history, we’ll miss the whole point of why these artifacts are important in the first place. it’s not just about the magic—it’s about the people who used it and how it shaped their lives.”

heeseung crossed his arms, clearly not convinced. “fine, but we can’t spend all our time on that. we need to strike a balance, or we’re going to run out of time.”

“then maybe if you’d actually listen to my ideas instead of dismissing them, we wouldn’t be wasting so much time arguing,” you snapped back, your patience wearing thin.

heeseung’s eyes narrowed, and for a moment, you thought he might argue further. but instead, he took a deep breath and seemed to force himself to calm down. “fine,” he said through gritted teeth. “let’s focus on the history for now, but we’re going to need to move on to the practical demonstrations soon. agreed?”

you hesitated, still feeling the sting of his earlier dismissal, but you knew he was right about the time constraints. “agreed,” you muttered, though your frustration was still simmering just beneath the surface.

the rest of the afternoon continued in much the same way, with the two of you struggling to find common ground. every decision—whether it was about the structure of your presentation, the content of your research, or the approach to your demonstrations—seemed to turn into a battle of wills, with neither of you willing to back down easily.

“i think we should use the hand of glory for our demonstration,” heeseung said during one particularly heated discussion. “it’s one of the most powerful artifacts we’re studying, and it’ll make a big impact.”

you frowned, shaking your head. “it’s too dangerous. we don’t know enough about how it works, and if we make a mistake, we could end up causing real harm. the bezoar stone is a safer option, and it still has a lot of practical applications.”

“safe isn’t going to impress professor mcgonagall,” heeseung shot back, his tone sharp. “we need to take risks if we want to stand out.”

“and what if those risks backfire?” you countered, refusing to budge. “we’re not going to get any points if we end up in the hospital wing because of a careless mistake.”

the argument dragged on, neither of you willing to concede, until finally, heeseung threw up his hands in exasperation. “fine, we’ll go with the bezoar stone, but you’d better make sure it’s impressive.”

you bit back a retort, knowing that continuing to argue would only waste more time. “i will,” you said curtly, turning back to your notes.

something began to shift as you and heeseung spent more time together. the initial days of your partnership were filled with nothing but tension and stubbornness, but slowly, almost imperceptibly, you started to notice things about him that you hadn’t before.

one evening, while you were both deep in the restricted section of the library, you watched as heeseung meticulously transcribed information from a particularly ancient text. his brow was furrowed in concentration, and there was an intensity in his eyes that you hadn’t seen before. it was clear that he was deeply invested in the project, despite his earlier dismissive attitude.

“you’re really into this, aren’t you?” you found yourself saying, unable to keep the surprise out of your voice.

heeseung looked up, momentarily startled by the lack of sarcasm in your tone. “of course i am,” he replied, a bit defensively. “just because we don’t see eye to eye on everything doesn’t mean i don’t care about this project.”

you nodded slowly, feeling a small flicker of respect for his dedication. “i guess i just didn’t expect you to be so… thorough.”

heeseung shrugged, but there was a hint of pride in his expression. “i take my work seriously. especially when it’s something as challenging as this.”

you didn’t say anything more, but as you turned back to your own research, you couldn’t help but think about how different heeseung was when he wasn’t trying to one-up you. beneath the rivalry and the bravado, there was a serious, determined student who was just as passionate about his studies as you were.

over the next few days, you began to notice other things too—small details that hinted at a side of heeseung you hadn’t seen before. the way he’d quietly stay late in the library, long after you were ready to call it a night, making sure every detail of your project was perfect. the way he’d occasionally offer a rare word of praise when you made a breakthrough, even if it was grudgingly given. and the way his expression would soften, just for a moment, when he thought you weren’t looking, revealing a vulnerability that he usually kept hidden behind his confident exterior.

in turn, you sensed that heeseung was starting to see you in a different light as well. you caught him watching you sometimes, a thoughtful look in his eyes, as if he was reevaluating everything he’d thought about you. when you made a particularly strong argument or came up with a clever solution to a problem, there was a flicker of something like admiration in his gaze, though he was careful to hide it most of the time.

one afternoon, while you were both working in a quiet corner of the library, you noticed heeseung struggling with a particularly complicated spell that was central to your project. he was trying to recreate the effects of the spell using a detailed diagram, but no matter how many times he tried, the results weren’t quite right.

“here,” you said, surprising both of you as you reached out to help. “let me see.”

heeseung hesitated for a moment, clearly not used to accepting help from you, but eventually, he handed over the parchment. you studied the diagram for a moment, then adjusted a few key elements, altering the flow of the magical energy.

“try it now,” you suggested, handing the parchment back.

heeseung glanced at you, then at the parchment, before nodding. he carefully followed the adjustments you’d made, and this time, the spell came together perfectly, the magical energy aligning just as it should.

he looked at you, a mix of surprise and gratitude in his eyes. “how did you…?”

“you were overthinking it,” you explained with a small shrug. “sometimes the simplest solution is the best one.”

heeseung stared at you for a moment longer, and you could almost see the gears turning in his mind as he processed what had just happened. then, to your surprise, he offered a small, genuine smile—one that lacked the usual competitive edge.

“thanks,” he said quietly, and for the first time, it felt like he was speaking to you as a person, not just as his rival.

“don’t mention it,” you replied, feeling a strange warmth in your chest at the unexpected moment of connection.

from that point on, the dynamic between you and heeseung began to shift, bit by bit.

it was another late night in the library, the kind that had become all too familiar over the past few weeks. the moonlight filtered through the tall windows, casting long shadows across the room as you and heeseung worked in relative silence. the only sounds were the soft scratching of quills on parchment and the occasional rustle of pages being turned.

you had been at it for hours, piecing together the final sections of your project. exhaustion was beginning to take its toll, but neither of you was willing to call it quits just yet. there was too much at stake, and the deadline was looming ever closer.

“we’re almost there,” heeseung said, his voice low and slightly hoarse from lack of sleep. “just a few more details to iron out.”

you nodded, stifling a yawn as you scribbled down some final notes. “yeah, but we need to make sure everything’s perfect. professor mcgonagall isn’t going to go easy on us.”

heeseung snorted softly. “she never does.”

for a while, you both worked in comfortable silence, the earlier tension between you having dissipated over the course of your collaboration. it was strange how the rivalry that had once defined your interactions had gradually given way to a kind of mutual understanding. you still didn’t always agree, but there was a new level of respect that hadn’t been there before.

as the clock ticked closer to midnight, you leaned back in your chair, rubbing your tired eyes. “i can’t believe we’re actually going to pull this off.”

heeseung glanced up from his work, a faint smile tugging at the corners of his lips. “yeah, who would’ve thought?”

you chuckled softly, the sound a little weary but genuine. “certainly not me.”

for a moment, you both just sat there, the weight of the past few weeks settling over you. it had been an intense and challenging journey, one that had pushed both of you to your limits. and now, as the project neared completion, there was a strange sense of camaraderie between you—something that felt almost foreign after years of animosity.

“why do you push yourself so hard, yn?” heeseung’s voice broke the silence, catching you off guard. “i mean, we’ve been competing for so long, but i never really knew why you’re so driven. what’s your reason?”

you blinked, surprised by the question. it wasn’t something you’d ever expected him to ask, let alone something you’d planned to share. but there was something about the quiet intimacy of the moment, the exhaustion and the late hour, that made you feel like maybe—just maybe—you could let your guard down, if only a little.

“it’s… complicated,” you began, your voice hesitant as you searched for the right words. “i guess it all started with my family. they’ve always had high expectations, you know? being a ravenclaw, there’s this constant pressure to be the best, to excel in everything. my parents—they were both top of their class when they were here, and they expect the same from me. i’ve always felt like i had to prove myself, to show them that i’m just as good, if not better.”

heeseung listened quietly, his expression thoughtful as you spoke. you could see a flicker of understanding in his eyes, like he was beginning to piece together parts of you that he hadn’t seen before.

“it’s exhausting,” you admitted, feeling a little vulnerable. “sometimes it feels like no matter what i do, it’s never enough. so i keep pushing myself, hoping that maybe, one day, i’ll finally be able to meet their expectations.”

there was a long pause, the silence between you filled with unspoken emotions. then, to your surprise, heeseung spoke up, his voice unusually soft. “i get it. i mean, it’s different for me, but… i get it.”

you looked at him, curiosity piqued. “what do you mean?”

heeseung hesitated for a moment, as if debating whether or not to share. but then, he sighed, running a hand through his messy hair. “my family’s different. they’re not as focused on academics, but… they’ve always been there for me, supporting me in everything i do. i know how lucky i am to have that, but it also means i don’t want to disappoint them. they’ve sacrificed a lot for me to be here, and i feel like i owe it to them to succeed, to make the most of the opportunities they’ve given me.”

you listened, surprised by the honesty in his words. it was a side of heeseung you hadn’t seen before—one that was driven not just by ambition or competition, but by a deep sense of responsibility and gratitude.

“so that’s why you’re always so determined,” you said quietly, beginning to understand. “it’s not just about beating me or being the best—it’s about making sure your family’s sacrifices weren’t in vain.”

heeseung nodded, his expression serious. “yeah, something like that. and i guess… it’s also about proving to myself that i can do it. that i’m not just coasting on their support, but that i’m actually capable of achieving something on my own.”

you both fell silent again, the weight of your shared stories hanging in the air. it was strange, this newfound understanding between you—like a fragile bridge built over years of rivalry and competition. but as you sat there, side by side in the quiet library, you realized that maybe, just maybe, you weren’t so different after all.

“we’ve both been carrying a lot, haven’t we?” you finally said, your voice soft.

heeseung nodded, a faint smile touching his lips. “yeah, we have. but i guess that’s what makes us who we are.”

“rivals,” you said with a small, rueful laugh.

“and maybe something more,” heeseung added, his tone thoughtful.

you looked at him, a little startled by his words, but there was no teasing or challenge in his expression—just a quiet, genuine honesty that you hadn’t expected.

“maybe,” you agreed, feeling a strange warmth in your chest.

as the days passed, the dynamic between you and heeseung continued to evolve —a subtle undertone of respect that hadn’t been there before.

you found yourselves falling into a rhythm, one that surprised you both. there were moments when you’d catch heeseung watching you as you worked, his expression unreadable, as if he were seeing you in a new light. at times, you’d notice yourself doing the same, observing the way he methodically tackled challenges, his determination unyielding.

it was during one of these moments, late at night when the rest of the castle was asleep, that you first began to acknowledge the shift between you. you were both hunched over the same ancient tome, deciphering the intricate details of a particularly difficult spell. without thinking, you leaned closer to see better, your shoulders brushing against each other.

“here, try adjusting the incantation this way,” heeseung suggested, his voice low and steady as he pointed to a line of text. “it should help stabilize the magical flow.”

you followed his suggestion, altering the incantation slightly before attempting the spell again. to your surprise, it worked perfectly, the magical energy aligning just as it should.

“that actually worked,” you said, looking up at him with a mix of surprise and appreciation. “nice catch, heeseung.”

heeseung gave you a small, almost shy smile—one that lacked the usual competitive edge. “thanks. you know, you’re not half bad at this either, yn.”

the unexpected compliment caught you off guard, and for a moment, you weren’t sure how to respond. eventually, you settled for a simple, “you’re not so bad yourself.”

the exchange was brief, but it marked a turning point in your partnership. there were still disagreements and moments of tension, but they were now balanced by a growing sense of camaraderie. you found yourselves working more smoothly together, each of you beginning to trust the other’s judgment in ways you hadn’t before.

during one particularly challenging task, you even surprised yourself by seeking out heeseung’s advice willingly. you were struggling with a particularly tricky potion that was integral to your project, and after several failed attempts, you finally turned to him.

“i can’t seem to get the consistency right,” you admitted, frustration creeping into your voice. “the potion keeps separating, no matter how carefully i follow the instructions.”

heeseung leaned over to inspect your work, his brow furrowing in concentration. “let me see… i think you might be adding the crushed bezoar too early. try mixing it in after the potion reaches a simmer.”

you followed his suggestion, and sure enough, the potion began to come together perfectly, the ingredients blending smoothly.

“how do you do that?” you asked, a mix of admiration and curiosity in your voice. “you always seem to know exactly what’s going wrong.”

heeseung shrugged, but there was a hint of pride in his expression. “i’ve always been good with potions. i guess i just have a knack for it.”

“well, it’s impressive,” you admitted, feeling a twinge of respect for him. “thanks for the help.”

heeseung nodded, his expression softening slightly. “anytime.”

as the days continued to pass, these moments of mutual respect and understanding became more frequent. you found yourself looking forward to the time spent working together, even if you were still reluctant to fully acknowledge it. there was something comforting about the way you could challenge each other, push each other to be better, without the usual undercurrent of animosity.

but despite the growing bond between you, neither of you was quite ready to admit it out loud. the rivalry that had defined your relationship for so long was still there, lingering in the background, and old habits were hard to break. you were both too stubborn, too proud, to fully let go of the competitive edge that had always driven you.

yet, even as you continued to trade barbs and challenge each other, there was a new undercurrent of something else—something that felt almost like friendship, though neither of you would have dared to call it that. it was still too soon, too uncertain, to fully embrace the change. but the first signs were there, undeniable in the way you worked together, in the way you’d begun to see each other as more than just rivals.

one evening, as you were packing up your things after a long day of work, heeseung hesitated before speaking. “you know, yn… we make a pretty good team.”

you paused, surprised by his words. for a moment, you considered brushing it off with a sarcastic remark, but something in his tone stopped you. instead, you found yourself nodding, a small, reluctant smile tugging at your lips. “yeah, we do.”

heeseung smiled back, and for the first time, it felt like a genuine connection—one that went beyond the rivalry that had defined your relationship for so long.

as you both left the library that night, walking side by side through the quiet halls of hogwarts, you couldn’t help but wonder what the future held for you both. the rivalry was still there, but it was no longer the only thing that defined your relationship.

one evening, as you were both working late in the deserted classroom you’d claimed as your project base, the air was thick with tension. the amulet lay on the table between you, glowing faintly with an eerie, pulsating light. you had just finished deciphering a particularly complicated series of runes when heeseung spoke up.

“we need to be careful with this next part,” he said, his voice low and serious. “the spell to activate the amulet’s power is extremely sensitive. if we get it wrong, it could backfire.”

you nodded, feeling a knot of anxiety form in your stomach. “i know. but we’ve come this far—we can’t stop now.”

heeseung met your gaze, and for a moment, you saw the same determination mirrored in his eyes. “agreed. let’s do this.”

you both took a deep breath and began the incantation, your voices blending together as you carefully followed the instructions you’d painstakingly translated from the ancient text. the air around you seemed to hum with energy, the light from the amulet growing brighter with each word spoken.

but just as you reached the final phrase, something went wrong. the amulet’s glow intensified suddenly, flaring with a blinding brilliance that made you both flinch. a high-pitched whine filled the room, and before you could react, the amulet exploded with a burst of uncontrolled magic.

you were thrown back by the force of the blast, crashing into the wall behind you. the impact knocked the wind out of you, leaving you gasping for breath as the room spun around you. through the haze of pain and disorientation, you heard heeseung shout your name.

“yn! are you okay?”

you forced yourself to sit up, wincing at the sharp pain in your side. “i’m fine,” you managed to say, though your voice was shaky. “what about you?”

heeseung was already on his feet, his wand drawn as he surveyed the chaotic scene. “i’m okay, but the amulet—” he broke off, his expression darkening as he pointed to where the artifact had been moments before.

the amulet was now hovering in midair, surrounded by a crackling aura of unstable magic. the runes etched into its surface were glowing with a malevolent light, and the energy it was emitting was growing stronger by the second.

“we have to stop it,” heeseung said urgently, his voice tight with fear. “if it releases all that magic at once, it could destroy the whole room—and us with it.”

you nodded, your mind racing as you tried to think of a solution. “we need to contain the magic, redirect it somehow before it builds up too much.”

heeseung’s eyes darted around the room, and you could see the wheels turning in his mind. “i think i can create a barrier around it, but i’ll need your help to stabilize it. can you do that?”

you nodded, pushing yourself to your feet despite the pain. “i’ll do my best.”

working quickly, you and heeseung moved into position, your wands raised as you began casting the necessary spells. heeseung’s barrier started to form around the amulet, a shimmering dome of protective magic, but the unstable energy was resisting, threatening to break through.

“it’s not holding,” heeseung gritted out, sweat beading on his forehead as he fought to maintain the barrier. “i need more power—now!”

you didn’t hesitate, channeling your magic into the spell he was casting. the strain was immense, the pressure of the wild magic pushing against your combined efforts, but you held on, focusing all your energy on keeping the barrier intact.

for a few terrifying moments, it felt like the magic would overwhelm you, like the barrier would shatter and unleash the full force of the amulet’s power. but then, slowly, the chaotic energy began to stabilize, the violent pulses of magic subsiding as your spells took hold.

finally, after what felt like an eternity, the glow of the amulet began to fade, the crackling aura dissipating as the magic was safely contained. you and heeseung maintained the barrier for a few moments longer, just to be sure, before finally allowing it to dissolve.

as the room fell into an exhausted silence, you both stood there, breathing heavily, your hands trembling from the effort. the amulet now lay on the floor, inert and harmless, the danger passed.

“we did it,” you said softly, your voice filled with a mix of relief and disbelief.

heeseung nodded, his expression a mix of exhaustion and something else—something that looked almost like admiration. “yeah, we did. you were incredible, yn. i couldn’t have done it without you.”

you met his gaze, feeling a strange warmth in your chest despite the lingering fear and exhaustion. “we make a good team,” you admitted, the words coming easier now after everything you’d just been through.

heeseung smiled, a genuine, unguarded smile that you rarely saw from him. “yeah, we do.”

the days following the incident were marked by an undeniable shift in the way you and heeseung interacted. the rivalry that had once defined your relationship felt less intense, as if the near-disaster had forced you both to re-evaluate what truly mattered. neither of you brought up the magical mishap directly, but it hung in the air, a silent acknowledgment of the bond that had formed during those tense moments.

you noticed it first in the way heeseung spoke to you. gone was the sharp edge to his voice, the ever-present hint of competition. instead, his tone was more measured, even respectful. it was as if the experience had softened something in him, allowing a different side to emerge.

one afternoon, as you both sat in the library reviewing notes, you caught him glancing at you out of the corner of your eye. when you looked up, he didn’t immediately look away, instead holding your gaze for a moment longer than usual.

“about what happened,” heeseung began, his voice unusually quiet. “i’ve been thinking… maybe we’ve been going about this all wrong.”

you raised an eyebrow, curiosity piqued. “what do you mean?”

he sighed, running a hand through his hair as he searched for the right words. “we’ve spent so much time trying to outdo each other that we never really stopped to consider what we could accomplish if we actually worked together. i mean, look at what we did the other night. we barely made it out of that mess, but we did it—because we were working as a team.”

you nodded slowly, his words resonating with the thoughts that had been swirling in your mind since the incident. “yeah, you’re right. it’s strange… after all these years of competing, I never really thought about what it would be like to be on the same side. it’s… easier than I expected.”

heeseung smiled faintly, a hint of amusement in his eyes. “easier? coming from you, that’s saying something.”

you rolled your eyes, but there was no real annoyance behind it. “don’t get used to it.”

he chuckled, the sound surprisingly warm, and for a brief moment, the usual tension between you dissolved, replaced by something lighter, almost friendly.

as the days went by, this new dynamic began to take root. you still challenged each other, still pushed each other to be better, but there was a noticeable difference in the way you approached it. the sharp edges of your rivalry had softened, making room for something more collaborative.

one evening, while you were both working late in the library, the conversation drifted away from the project and onto more personal topics. it started innocently enough, with a question about favorite books, but soon, you found yourselves sharing more than just academic preferences.

“you know,” you said, leaning back in your chair, “i always thought you were just this arrogant gryffindor who enjoyed making my life difficult.”

heeseung laughed softly, shaking his head. “and i always thought you were a stuck-up ravenclaw who couldn’t stand to lose. guess we both had the wrong idea.”

“yeah,” you agreed, a small smile tugging at your lips. “it’s funny how things turn out.”

heeseung’s expression grew more serious, and he hesitated for a moment before speaking again. “there’s more to it than that, though. i’ve always felt like i had something to prove, like i had to be the best at everything to… i don’t know, be taken seriously, i guess. and competing with you—well, it made me push myself harder.”

you listened quietly, sensing that this was something he didn’t often talk about. “i get that,” you said after a moment. “i’ve always felt the same way. being the best is a way of proving to myself that i’m worth something. but i think… i think i’ve realized that there’s more to it than just winning.”

heeseung nodded, his gaze meeting yours with an intensity that made your heart skip a beat. “yeah. maybe we don’t have to be rivals all the time. maybe we can just… be.”

the simplicity of his words struck a chord with you, and for the first time in a long while, you felt the walls you’d built up around yourself start to crumble. the rivalry, the constant need to prove yourself—it all seemed less important in the face of the connection you were beginning to forge.

“maybe we can,” you agreed softly, a tentative smile crossing your face.

as the conversation continued, you found yourselves sharing stories, laughing at old memories, and even confiding in each other about your hopes and fears. the change was subtle, but undeniable. you were no longer just rivals, no longer defined solely by your competition. you were two people who had been through a lot together, who were starting to see each other in a new light.

you found yourselves meeting up more frequently, not just in the library or classrooms, but in quieter corners of the castle where you could work without interruption. at first, it was strictly about the project, but gradually, your conversations began to drift into more personal territory.

“i’ve never really asked,” you said one evening, as you both sat by the fire in the ravenclaw common room, books and parchment spread out before you. “why do you push yourself so hard in school? i mean, i get the competition, but it seems like there’s more to it.”

heeseung looked up from his notes, surprised by the question. he was silent for a moment, as if weighing how much to reveal. “i guess it’s because i’ve always felt like i had something to prove,” he admitted, his voice quieter than usual. “being the eldest son in my family comes with a lot of expectations. and at hogwarts, it’s like… it’s my chance to show that i’m capable of more than just living up to the family name. but it’s exhausting sometimes.”

you nodded, understanding all too well. “i know what you mean. for me, it’s about feeling like i belong. growing up, i was always the odd one out, the bookworm who didn’t quite fit in. being at the top here—it’s my way of proving that i’m good enough, that i deserve to be here. but yeah, it can be lonely.”

heeseung looked at you then, his gaze softer, more empathetic than you’d ever seen it. “i never thought about it like that,” he said quietly. “i guess we’re more alike than i realized.”

the shared understanding created a new kind of bond between you, one that extended beyond academic rivalry. over the next few weeks, your study sessions became more frequent, and your conversations grew deeper. you found yourself looking forward to these moments, enjoying his company in a way that surprised you.

the shift in your dynamic didn’t go unnoticed by your fellow students. whispers and sideways glances followed you in the hallways, and more than a few knowing smiles were exchanged when you and heeseung walked into the library together.

“well, well, look who’s finally getting along,” one of your ravenclaw classmates teased as you passed by. “i never thought i’d see the day.”

you rolled your eyes, trying to brush off the comment, but you couldn’t ignore the slight warmth that crept into your cheeks.

heeseung, however, seemed unfazed by the attention. “let them talk,” he said with a shrug as you both settled into your usual spot. “they’ve got nothing better to do.”

but the teasing wasn’t limited to just your house. in gryffindor, heeseung’s friends were just as quick to notice the change.

“so, heeseung,” jay drawled one afternoon as they sat in the common room, “you and yn seem to be spending a lot of time together these days. should we be expecting wedding invitations soon?”

heeseung shot him a withering look, though his friends could see the faintest hint of a smile tugging at his lips. “it’s not like that,” he muttered, but the way he avoided their eyes made them exchange amused glances.

“sure, sure,” jake chimed in, grinning. “it’s just a project, right? nothing more.”

“you guys are impossible,” heeseung sighed, shaking his head, but there was no real irritation in his voice. if anything, the teasing felt oddly comforting, a sign that even his friends could see the positive change in him.

over time, the teasing became a constant background noise, something neither of you could completely escape, but you found that it didn’t bother you as much as you thought it would. if anything, it only highlighted how much things had changed between you and heeseung. you were no longer just rivals locked in a never-ending battle for supremacy. you were… something else, something that neither of you had quite figured out yet.

and as the days went by, you realized that you didn’t mind the change. in fact, you were starting to welcome it.

as the end of the term approached, hogwarts was abuzz with excitement for the upcoming winter ball. the great hall was already being transformed, adorned with shimmering icicles and twinkling fairy lights that gave the castle a magical, ethereal glow. students chattered eagerly about their outfits, their dates, and the promise of a night filled with music, dancing, and festive cheer.

you, however, hadn’t given much thought to the ball. between your classes, the ongoing project with heeseung, and the unexpected shift in your dynamic, your mind was already occupied with enough complications. the idea of finding a date just seemed like another task on an already overflowing list.

that changed one afternoon when you found yourself alone in the courtyard, enjoying a rare moment of quiet. the crisp winter air nipped at your cheeks as you flipped through the pages of your book, trying to ignore the cold as you immersed yourself in your studies.

“yn?” a voice called, pulling you from your thoughts.

you looked up to see felix, a cheerful hufflepuff with a wide, friendly grin and an air of perpetual optimism. you’d always liked him; his bright energy was infectious, and he had a way of making everyone around him feel at ease.

“hey, felix,” you greeted him, closing your book and offering him a smile.

he seemed a little nervous, shifting from foot to foot as he approached. “um, i hope i’m not interrupting,” he began, glancing down at your book.

“no, not at all,” you replied, curious about what had brought him over. “what’s up?”

felix took a deep breath, as if steeling himself. “well, i was wondering… have you decided who you’re going to the winter ball with yet?”

the question caught you off guard. you hadn’t expected anyone to ask, especially not felix, and for a moment, you just stared at him, trying to process what he was saying.

“i… haven’t really thought about it,” you admitted, feeling a bit flustered.

“well, if you’re not going with anyone yet,” felix said, his grin widening as he took the plunge, “i was hoping you might consider going with me.”

before you could respond, a familiar voice cut through the air, laced with an unmistakable note of possessiveness.

“actually, she’s already going with me.”

you turned to see heeseung standing a few steps away, his expression calm but his eyes flashing with something that looked suspiciously like jealousy. his appearance was so sudden and unexpected that you found yourself momentarily speechless.

felix blinked, clearly surprised by the interruption. “oh… really? i didn’t know you two were—”

“we are,” heeseung interjected smoothly, stepping closer to you and giving you a look that was both challenging and expectant, as if daring you to contradict him.

you opened your mouth to protest, to correct him, but the words didn’t come. instead, you found yourself caught between the two of them, your mind racing to make sense of the situation.

felix, ever the good sport, chuckled awkwardly and raised his hands in surrender. “well, that’s settled then. i guess i’ll have to find someone else to go with,” he said, his tone light, though there was a hint of disappointment in his eyes.

“thanks for asking, though, felix,” you managed to say, still reeling from the sudden turn of events.

he gave you a good-natured smile. “no worries. see you at the ball, then.” with a final nod, felix turned and walked away, leaving you alone with heeseung.

the silence that followed was thick with unspoken words. you turned to heeseung, who was watching felix’s retreating figure with an unreadable expression.

“what was that about?” you asked, your voice tinged with confusion and more than a little annoyance. “i never agreed to go with you.”

heeseung finally looked at you, and you saw a flicker of something vulnerable beneath his usual confident facade. “i know,” he admitted, rubbing the back of his neck in a rare show of uncertainty. “but i couldn’t just let you go with someone else.”

you frowned, trying to make sense of his words. “why not?”

he hesitated, his gaze dropping to the ground before he spoke again. “because… because i wanted to go with you.”

the simplicity of his confession caught you off guard. for a moment, you didn’t know how to respond. you’d always seen heeseung as your rival, your equal in so many ways, but this was different. this was him, standing before you, stripped of the usual bravado and letting you see a side of him that you hadn’t fully acknowledged before.

“heeseung…” you started, unsure of what to say.

“look, i know it’s sudden,” he continued, his tone softer now. “and i know we’ve had our… issues. but things have been different between us lately, and i just thought—well, maybe we could try being something other than rivals, even if it’s just for one night.”

you studied him for a long moment, searching his face for any sign of the arrogance that usually defined your interactions. but all you saw was sincerity, and something that looked an awful lot like hope.

“okay,” you said finally, your voice quiet but firm. “i’ll go with you.”

his expression brightened, the tension in his shoulders easing as he let out a breath he didn’t seem to realize he’d been holding. “really?”

“really,” you confirmed, a small smile tugging at your lips despite the confusion still swirling in your mind.

heeseung’s answering smile was one of pure relief and genuine happiness. “great. i’ll… i’ll meet you at the entrance hall before the ball?”

you nodded, the reality of the situation finally sinking in. “yeah. sounds good.”

with that, heeseung gave you one last look, a mix of excitement and something else that made your heart flutter unexpectedly, before turning and walking away.

the next weekend, you found yourself in diagon alley, flanked by sunoo and yuna as you wandered through a boutique filled with elegant gowns and robes. the winter ball was fast approaching, and the three of you had decided to make a day of it, searching for the perfect outfits to wear.

as sunoo and yuna enthusiastically pulled dresses off racks, debating colors and styles, you found your thoughts drifting to heeseung. ever since he had asked you to the ball—if you could even call it asking—you hadn’t been able to stop thinking about him. the way he had looked at you, the way his voice had softened when he spoke… it was all so confusing.

“yn, what do you think of this one?” yuna’s voice broke through your thoughts, and you turned to see her holding up a shimmering navy gown with delicate silver embroidery.

“it’s beautiful,” you replied automatically, though your mind was elsewhere.

“but is it you?” sunoo chimed in, giving you a knowing look. “you’ve been a bit out of it today. something on your mind?”

you hesitated, not sure how to put your jumbled thoughts into words. “it’s nothing,” you said, trying to sound casual as you flipped through a rack of dresses.

“it’s obviously not nothing,” yuna pointed out, setting the dress aside and crossing her arms. “you’ve been spacing out all day. is this about the ball? or maybe… who you’re going with?”

you sighed, realizing there was no point in trying to hide it. sunoo and yuna knew you too well. “it’s heeseung,” you admitted, finally voicing the name that had been circling your mind. “i can’t figure out what’s going on between us. one minute we’re rivals, the next we’re working together, and now… now he’s asked me to the ball. but i don’t even know if he really likes me, or if he’s just messing with me.”

sunoo exchanged a glance with yuna, and they both gave you a sympathetic look. “have you thought about just asking him how he feels?” sunoo suggested gently. “it might clear things up.”

“or maybe you could try to figure out how you feel first,” yuna added, her tone soft. “it sounds like you’re just as confused about your own feelings as you are about his.”

you let out a frustrated breath, running a hand through your hair. “i know, but it’s just… complicated. he’s always been my rival, my competition. i don’t know how to deal with this sudden shift.”

“come on, let’s sit down for a minute,” sunoo said, taking your arm and steering you toward the dressing room area. yuna followed, concern etched on her face.

once inside the small, cozy room, sunoo and yuna guided you to one of the plush benches, sitting on either side of you. the soft lighting and quiet atmosphere provided a much-needed break from the overwhelming swirl of emotions you were feeling.

“yn,” yuna began, her voice soothing, “it’s okay to be confused. you’ve been dealing with a lot lately, and it’s only natural that your feelings might be all over the place. but whatever you’re feeling, it’s valid. you don’t have to have everything figured out right now.”

sunoo nodded in agreement, resting a comforting hand on your shoulder. “and if heeseung really does like you—and it sounds like he might—then he’ll understand that this is new territory for you both. you don’t have to rush into anything. just take it one step at a time.”

you looked between your two friends, their warmth and understanding providing a balm to your frayed nerves. “thanks, guys,” you said quietly, a small smile tugging at your lips. “i guess i just needed to hear that it’s okay to not have all the answers.”

“of course it’s okay,” yuna said, squeezing your hand. “and whatever happens, we’ll be here for you. whether you end up with heeseung or not, we’ve got your back.”

sunoo grinned, his usual playful demeanor shining through. “and hey, if heeseung gives you any trouble, you know we’ll take care of him.”

you couldn’t help but laugh at that, the tension in your chest easing a little. “i’m sure you will.”

the night of the winter ball arrived, and hogwarts was transformed into a winter wonderland. the great hall was adorned with twinkling lights, enchanted snowflakes drifting down from the enchanted ceiling without ever touching the ground. the sound of soft music filled the air, setting the stage for an evening of magic and memories.

you stood in front of the mirror in your dormitory, adjusting the soft, flowing fabric of your dress—the very same navy gown yuna had suggested. its silver embroidery shimmered in the candlelight, complementing the simple yet elegant look you had chosen. despite your earlier doubts, you couldn’t deny that you felt a mix of excitement and nerves fluttering in your stomach.

“you look amazing,” yuna said, smiling as she fixed the last few strands of her hair in the mirror beside you. sunoo, dressed in sharp robes, gave you an approving nod.

“heeseung’s not going to know what hit him,” sunoo teased, winking at you.

you rolled your eyes, though you couldn’t help but smile. “let’s just hope he doesn’t trip over his own feet when he sees me.”

with a final deep breath, you made your way to the entrance hall, where students were gathering before entering the great hall. you spotted heeseung almost immediately, standing off to the side, talking with jay, jake, and ni-ki. he looked up as you approached, his gaze locking onto yours, and for a moment, it felt like everything else faded away.

heeseung was dressed in dark, tailored robes that accentuated his tall frame, his hair neatly styled. but what caught your attention most was the way he was looking at you—something warm and appreciative in his eyes that sent a shiver down your spine.

“you look… wow,” heeseung said, his voice almost a whisper as you reached him. he seemed momentarily at a loss for words, a rare sight for someone usually so confident and quick with a remark.

“you don’t look so bad yourself,” you replied, trying to ignore the way your heart was pounding in your chest.

his friends took the opportunity to make themselves scarce, offering you both knowing grins as they wandered off into the crowd. you and heeseung were left standing there, the unspoken tension between you suddenly feeling much more tangible.

“shall we?” heeseung asked, offering you his arm with a slightly awkward but endearing smile.

you hesitated for only a moment before accepting, looping your arm through his. together, you made your way into the great hall, the soft strains of music growing louder as you entered the beautifully decorated room. chandeliers glimmered overhead, casting a warm glow over the assembled students, who were already beginning to pair off and dance.

for a while, the two of you simply walked around the edges of the hall, exchanging polite conversation about anything but the real question hovering between you. you couldn’t help but notice how heeseung’s arm stayed close to yours, how he seemed to be making a conscious effort to stay by your side.

finally, after what felt like an eternity, heeseung stopped and turned to face you, his expression a mix of nervousness and determination. “do you… want to dance?” he asked, his voice softer than you’d ever heard it.

“i’d like that,” you replied, surprising even yourself with how much you meant it.

he led you onto the dance floor, the soft strains of a waltz beginning to play as you found your place among the other couples. heeseung’s hand rested lightly on your waist, his other hand holding yours with a gentleness that contrasted with the fierce competitor you were so used to seeing.

the first few steps were tentative, both of you trying to find your rhythm. it was awkward at first—heeseung’s foot nearly caught on the hem of your dress, and you stumbled slightly as you tried to keep up with the music. but then heeseung let out a quiet laugh, the sound light and warm, and you found yourself laughing too.

“maybe we’re not cut out for ballroom dancing,” you joked, your nerves easing as you looked up at him.

“speak for yourself,” heeseung shot back playfully, his smile widening. “i’m just getting started.”

with that, he spun you gently, and you couldn’t help but smile at the way he seemed to be enjoying himself. the awkwardness began to fade, replaced by a strange but pleasant feeling of comfort. you found your rhythm together, your steps more in sync with each passing moment.

as the music swelled, you felt something shift between you. there was a new understanding, a silent acknowledgment that things were different now. it wasn’t just about competition or rivalry anymore—it was about enjoying each other’s company, about recognizing the connection that had grown between you.

when the song finally ended, you found yourself still in his arms, neither of you making a move to pull away. the applause of the other students was just background noise as you looked up at him, your heart beating a little faster.

“i had fun,” heeseung said softly, his gaze holding yours.

“me too,” you admitted, realizing that you meant it more than you ever thought you would.

for a moment, it seemed like he might say something more, but then the next song started, and you both became aware of the other students around you. with a slightly bashful smile, heeseung stepped back, releasing your hand reluctantly.

“should we get some punch?” he suggested, trying to break the sudden tension.

“yeah, that sounds good,” you agreed, though a part of you missed the closeness already.

as you walked off the dance floor together, you couldn’t help but feel that this night had marked a turning point. the rivalry that had once defined your relationship was beginning to fade, replaced by something new—something that was still unfolding, but felt like the start of something important.

as the night wound down and the last notes of music faded into the background, the students began to filter out of the great hall, their laughter and chatter filling the corridors of hogwarts. you and heeseung lingered near the entrance, neither of you in a rush to return to your respective common rooms. the night had been unexpectedly wonderful, and neither of you seemed ready for it to end.

“want to take the long way back?” heeseung asked, his voice quiet, as if not to disturb the magic of the evening.

you nodded, feeling the same reluctance to let the moment slip away. “sure.”

together, you slipped out of the main entrance and into the cool night air. the grounds were bathed in the soft glow of moonlight, the stars twinkling brightly in the clear sky above. the castle loomed behind you, its silhouette majestic against the night, but your attention was focused on the path ahead and the quiet presence beside you.

for a while, you walked in comfortable silence, the only sounds the gentle rustling of the trees and the distant hooting of an owl. it was peaceful, almost surreal after the bustling energy of the ball.

“tonight was… different,” heeseung finally said, breaking the silence. his voice was thoughtful, as if he were carefully choosing his words.

“yeah, it was,” you agreed, glancing up at him. “but it was nice.”

“it was,” he echoed, a small smile playing on his lips. “i didn’t think we’d end up having fun, to be honest.”

“neither did i,” you admitted with a chuckle. “i guess we’re both full of surprises.”

heeseung laughed softly, the sound carrying in the stillness of the night. “i guess we are. you know, i always thought we’d be stuck as rivals forever, constantly trying to outdo each other.”

“me too,” you said, your tone growing more reflective. “but maybe that’s just how we needed to start. it’s how we pushed each other to be better.”

heeseung nodded, his gaze fixed on the stars above. “and maybe… maybe there’s more to us than just competition.”

you felt your heart skip a beat at his words, the implication hanging in the air between you. “maybe,” you said softly, unsure of what else to say.

you continued walking, the silence between you now filled with unspoken thoughts and questions. there was a new understanding between you, something that felt fragile and new, yet powerful. it was as if the night itself was holding its breath, waiting to see where this newfound connection would lead.

as you approached the point where your paths would diverge—him to gryffindor tower and you to the ravenclaw common room—heeseung slowed his steps, turning to face you.

“i’m glad we did this,” he said, his voice sincere. “i’m glad we… got to know each other a little better.”

“me too,” you replied, meeting his gaze. “it feels like a new beginning.”

heeseung smiled, a genuine, warm smile that reached his eyes. “yeah, it does.”

there was a moment of hesitation, as if both of you were waiting for something more to be said, something that might tip the balance of whatever was happening between you. but then, with a small, almost shy nod, heeseung stepped back.

“goodnight, yn,” he said, his voice gentle.

“goodnight, heeseung,” you replied, a soft smile on your lips.

The days following the winter ball were a confusing whirlwind of emotions. Your interactions with Heeseung had become charged with an unspoken tension that neither of you dared to address. The rivalry that had once defined your relationship seemed to be fading, replaced by something much more complicated. You found yourself drawn to him in ways you never expected, but the fear of the unknown kept you on edge.

Every time you were together, whether it was working on your project or passing each other in the corridors, there was a lingering sense of anticipation, like something was about to happen. It was both exhilarating and terrifying. The way he looked at you had changed—there was a softness in his gaze that hadn’t been there before, but it was always coupled with an underlying tension that kept you both on guard.

One afternoon, you and Heeseung were in the library, surrounded by stacks of ancient books and parchment. The project was almost complete, and with it, the excuse to spend time together was coming to an end. Heeseung was unusually quiet, his focus seemingly elsewhere as he absently flipped through a dusty tome.

“Are you okay?” you asked, breaking the silence, your voice softer than usual. You’d grown accustomed to his company, and the thought of something being wrong between you gnawed at your insides.

Heeseung didn’t look up. “Just thinking,” he replied, his tone distant.

“About what?” you pressed, sensing that whatever was bothering him, it had to do with more than just the project.

He finally met your eyes, but instead of the warmth you had come to expect, there was a hardness there, something defensive. “About how maybe we’ve been wasting our time on this project. I mean, what’s the point? It’s not like we’re going to change anything.”

His words felt like a slap in the face, cutting through the fragile connection you had been building. You had poured your energy into this project, but more than that, you had opened yourself up to him in ways you hadn’t done with anyone else. And now, it felt like he was dismissing all of it.

“What are you talking about?” you asked, trying to keep the hurt out of your voice. “We’ve been working hard on this—together.”

Heeseung’s expression was unreadable, but his voice was laced with frustration. “Yeah, together,” he repeated. “But maybe we’ve been too focused on this… on us, and not enough on what really matters.”

The implication behind his words stung deeply. It felt like he was saying that everything between you—the late-night study sessions, the shared glances, the subtle shifts in your dynamic—meant nothing to him. Your chest tightened, and you felt a surge of anger rise up, mingling with the hurt.

“So you think this was a mistake? That we were a mistake?” you asked, your voice trembling as you struggled to keep your emotions in check.

“No, that’s not what I—” Heeseung started, but the damage was already done.

You stood up abruptly, your chair scraping loudly against the stone floor, drawing the attention of a few nearby students. “If that’s how you feel, then maybe we should just finish this project and go back to being rivals,” you snapped, the bitterness in your tone making it clear how much his words had affected you. “It’s clearly all we’re good at.”

Heeseung’s face fell, and you could see the regret in his eyes, but your hurt and anger were too strong to let him off the hook that easily. Without another word, you gathered your things and stormed out of the library, leaving him sitting there, looking like he wanted to take back every word he had just said. But it was too late. The fragile connection you had begun to form was shattered.

The days that followed were some of the hardest you’d experienced at Hogwarts. You threw yourself into your studies and Quidditch practice, anything to distract yourself from the gaping hole that had been left by your fight with Heeseung. Sunoo and Yuna noticed the change in you, but they gave you space, sensing that you weren’t ready to talk about what had happened.

But no matter how much you tried to focus on other things, your thoughts kept circling back to him. The hurtful words he had said, the regret in his eyes as you walked away—it all replayed in your mind over and over again. You had never been this affected by someone before, and the realization of just how much Heeseung meant to you was overwhelming.

You missed him. You missed the way he challenged you, the way he made you laugh even when you didn’t want to, the way he looked at you like you were the only person in the room. But more than anything, you missed the way he had started to let you see the real him, the parts of himself that he kept hidden from everyone else.

In Gryffindor Tower, Heeseung was going through his own turmoil. He hadn’t meant to hurt you, but his fear of what he was feeling had driven him to push you away. It had been easier to fall back on the familiar role of rivals than to face the truth: that he cared about you more than he had ever cared about anyone else. But now, with you gone, he was left with nothing but regret.

He replayed your argument in his head, wishing he could take back every word. He missed you, more than he thought possible. The way you challenged him, the way you made him want to be better, the way your presence had become something he looked forward to every day. He couldn’t ignore it any longer. He was in love with you, and the thought of losing you was unbearable.

It took several days of wrestling with his emotions, but eventually, Heeseung knew what he had to do. He couldn’t let things end like this, not when there was still so much left unsaid.

It was late in the evening when you returned to the Ravenclaw common room after a grueling Quidditch practice. Your muscles ached, and all you wanted was to collapse into bed and forget about the day. But as you stepped through the entrance, you were greeted by an unexpected sight.

Heeseung was standing by the entrance, his posture tense and his eyes locked on you the moment you walked in. He looked like he hadn’t slept in days, his usual confident demeanor replaced by something much more vulnerable.

“YN, wait,” he said, his voice almost pleading as he took a step towards you.

You hesitated, your heart pounding in your chest. You weren’t sure if you were ready for this conversation, but something in his expression made you pause.

“What do you want, Heeseung?” you asked, your voice guarded. You couldn’t afford to be hurt by him again.

“To apologize,” he said quickly, his voice filled with urgency. “And to explain.”

You crossed your arms, trying to maintain your composure. “Go on.”

Heeseung took a deep breath, as if steeling himself for what he was about to say. “I didn’t mean what I said the other day,” he began, his voice filled with regret. “I was… scared, confused. This whole thing with us, it’s different, and it caught me off guard. I’ve spent so long thinking of you as my rival, as someone I needed to beat, that I didn’t know how to handle it when I started feeling… something more.”

His words hung in the air, and you felt your heart start to race. You had suspected, hoped even, that he might feel the same way, but hearing it out loud was a different matter entirely.

“So you pushed me away,” you said, your voice softer now, the hurt still evident but mixed with something else—understanding.

Heeseung nodded, his expression pained. “Yeah, and that was wrong. I’ve been an idiot, YN. The truth is, I’ve come to care about you—a lot. More than I ever thought I could. And the thought of messing that up scared me, so I tried to pretend like it didn’t matter, like we didn’t matter. But we do. You do.”

You could see the sincerity in his eyes, the vulnerability that he was laying bare before you. Heeseung, who had always been so confident, so sure of himself, was now standing in front of you, admitting his fears and his feelings. It was a side of him you had never seen before, and it made your heart ache with both sadness and hope.

“You really hurt me, you know,” you said, your voice trembling as you let yourself acknowledge the pain he had caused.

“I know,” Heeseung replied, his voice filled with remorse. “And I’m so sorry. I don’t want to hurt you, YN. I want to be with you. Not as rivals, but as… something more. If you’ll give me another chance.”

There was a long pause as you stood there, processing his words. The anger and hurt you had been holding onto for days were slowly melting away, replaced by a warmth that you couldn’t ignore. Heeseung had hurt you, yes, but he was also the person who had challenged you, who had pushed you to be better, who had made you feel things you had never felt before. And as you looked into his eyes, you realized that you didn’t want to go back to the way things were. You wanted to move forward—with him.

Finally, you nodded, a small smile tugging at your lips. “I think I’d like that,” you said, your voice soft but filled with hope.

Relief washed over Heeseung’s face, and he let out a breath he didn’t realize he had been holding. “Thank you,” he said, his voice filled with gratitude.

Before you could respond, he stepped forward and wrapped you in a tight, warm embrace. It was the first time he had ever hugged you, and it felt like everything had finally fallen into place. All the tension, all the rivalry, all the confusion—it all melted away in that moment, leaving only the two of you, standing together under the soft glow of the common room’s enchanted candles.

As you rested your head against his chest, you couldn’t help but smile, knowing that whatever came next, you were ready to face it together. And as Heeseung held you close, you knew he felt the same.

[cosmal]

ooooh poly!marauders who are really in tune with their s/o's emotions, even when she tries to hide them? like maybe they're out for a meal or at a party and she gets overwhelmed and they just realise straight away and bring her out of the setting? i love them soooo much

in the car

summary the boys take you home when you get overwhelmed at a party.

content poly!marauders x fem!reader

note omg first poly!m blurb. sorry it kinda sucks :[

You sit on a retaining wall in Marlene's backyard and try to focus on her pretty flowers instead of feeling so anxious. You haven't spoken to anyone in twenty minutes, not even the boys, and you've really tried your best not to put such a damper on the night.

They're having a lot of fun, you know they've had a tiring week and everyone hasn't been together in a long time so you won't ruin anything for them.

You pick at your nails and chew on the ice in your drink to keep your mind distracted. You thought you could handle it tonight, you hoped you wouldn't get as overwhelmed as you were expecting. You'd felt anxious before you even left, you thought seeing your friends might've helped.

You're too busy staring a hole through your glass to notice James sitting next to you. You startle when he speaks and bite your lip at your error.

"Hey, sweetheart," he says softly and ignores your jump. You feel a little pathetic.

"James," you sigh. You can't look him in the eye.

"Ready to go?" he clasps and hand to your shoulder and does that stupid, toothy grin he knows you love.

"What? We just got here." It feels like it's been hours. It's been one at most.

"Yeah, I know." He stands back up and hovers over you. It's almost irritating how pretty he looks. He doesn't make any of this any easier. You feel awful for ruining their night. "You look so sad, honey. We thought we'd go home."

"I can Uber if you want." You regret it before you even say it.

"What? No, don't be so silly." Yeah. Expected.

"I don't wanna leave just cause of me. I'm fine, don't worry."

James doesn't let you mope any longer. "No, c'mon, up."

"James..."

"It's okay," he takes your hand to encourage you, smiling, "really. I wanna leave anyway." Then much quieter, "Frank's tryna get me drunk."

You let him lift you up and fall into his side where you feel you belong. You feel half-relieved already, despite feeling selfish. "Where're the others?"

"Sirius went to get the car,'' he grabs your hand and leads you through the side gate. "I think Remus went with him."

You're not sure why you feel so blindsided by this all. Most of the time they're so intuned with you, they know when you're overwhelmed or just having a bad time. You're the same with them. You rub Remus's shoulders before without him telling you they're sore, you call James when you know he's having a bad day after he messages you, and you hug Sirius before he tells you he wants a cry.

You step out onto the pavement and find Sirius pulled up with Remus, waiting for you and James. You feel bad for ditching but not as much as so when they look so happy to see you. "What if I'd convinced you to stay? They would've been out here all night, probably," you ask before you get to the car.

"Wouldn't have worked." He opens your door for you.

You slide along the back seat for James to sit next to you and are welcomed by a lovely warmth. James gets in too and you think he wants to click you in as well but decides against it.

"You okay, lovely?" Remus asks from the passenger seat, he twists around to look you over and you feel bare.

"I'm okay," you say softly. "Hasn't Sirius been drinking?"

Sirius snorts from behind the wheel. "I've had two, don't worry, lovely."

You know you're deflecting, you suspect as soon as Sirius also asks if you're okay, you might cry. Your throat feels thick with an upset that feels worse now in a contained space. This is half the reason you wanted to leave on your own. Not that being surrounded by your boys when you're upset is bad, just might've been easier to steel yourself.

You reach a hand down on the seat between you and James and scrunch it tight. He unclicks himself and sides over to you. He gets an arm around your shoulder and encourages you into his side, as much as your seatbelt will allow.

"You okay?" Sirius dangerously whips his head back to look at you, pouting.

The first tear dribbles down your cheek.

You hide your face in James's firm shoulder and shake your head. He tuts and cages your head in with a big hand. Your tears are hot and slow, marring James's pretty shirt. You hope you don't turn messy with it. He looks good.

James murmurs something like, "Hurry up, Sirius." The car roars.

You feel the car slow at a red light and peel yourself away from James's chest. Face wet and hot, your hair stuck to your cheeks. "Shit, I'm sorry," you curse and wipe your face with a rough hand. James's arm stays around your shoulder.

"Hey, it's okay, yeah?" Remus uses his long arm to grab your knee. He squeezes firmly and it feels nice. You hope you're close to home, you want to hug Sirius as well. He looks similarly worked up.

"I'm sorry I made us leave," you sniffle.

"You didn't make us do anything," James says, voice as firm as he can manage. "We don't mind. It's just...you gotta tell us if you're not feeling good, okay? We might be able to prevent these pretty eyes from crying." He uses the side of his finger to wipe under your watery eyes, brushing over your clumped eyelashes. You blink slowly.

"I didn't want to ruin-"

"You didn't ruin anything," Sirius interrupts, "We just want to make sure you're okay."

He steals another look at you. You nod gently. "Yeah."

"Remus was complaining to me, anyways," James says, smug. "Said I looked so good that he wanted to take me home."

You start to laugh, much to the boy's pleasure. "Really?"

"Yeah," James nods, "Said he wanted to - and I quote - jump my bones."

Remus looks incensed. You're just happy the teasing isn't on your behalf for once. "Whatever, James."

"You do look pretty, James," you say, still sidled up to him, "I don't blame him."

He squeezes you hard. and laughs, pleased you're feeling better. "I'm sure Remus'll be telling me all night how good this shirt looks on me."

"It does!"

"Okay, James's head might explode," Sirius says. He'd looked just as in love all night, you'd seen it.

"Woah!"

You sit back and watch your boys fight over stupid things. You think you could do it for the rest of your life if they allowed it. You're sure they'd make a fool of themselves over and over if it made you happy.

Sirius catches you staring. "Feeling a little better?"

You nod, pleased, but embarrassed to be caught. "Yeah."

"Good." You must be almost home.

"Hey, Sirius?" you say softly.

"Yeah, lovely?" He might crash if he keeps turning to look at you like that.

"Can we stop at McDonald's?" you ask softly, even softer eyes like he'd ever say no.

"Yeah, sounds good. Remus needs a happy meal."

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