#hope you enjoy the cringe because i certainly cringed typing all this out

[nametakensff]

🫣, 👃, 🚫? :3

Thanks anon! 💕

🫣 Have you ever done anything embarassing because of the kink?

Oh god, definitely. As an adult, probably just that I've stumbled over words mid-sentence when I've heard a really good sneeze. And also opening the YouTube app on my phone to a loud sneezing short that automatically played (at least only in front of my sister who is familiar w/ my bs lol)

As a kid:

- drawing pages and pages of sneezing comics that my parents definitely saw

- colouring character's noses in red in random books

- Insisting on role-playing that our toys had colds with my friends until they called me out on it lmao

- hiding behind the couch when I was really little when that fucking scene in s/now w/hite came on 😂

- my dad seeing the url for the forum on the family computer, also finding snz art I stupidly hid around the house and forgot about??

- taking books out of the library that were snz themed (anyone remember 'the s/nottle'?) and saying shit to the librarian like 'oh this isn't for me, it's for my friend' 🤡🤡🤡

👃 What is your favourite word to describe a tickle?

Oooh....I wonder what I've used the most in my fics....maybe 'overwhelming', 'eye-watering' and 'intense'. 'Persistent' and 'malicious' too!!

🚫 Least favourite thing about the kink??

Family snzs. My sister is my best friend, I live with her, and she probably has worse allergies than me 🤢 I can deal with it most of the time and she tries her best to keep as quiet as she can around me because she knows about the kink and we're both totally disgusted by the entire situation lol. I have to sort of leave my body and pretend it isn't happening 😮‍💨 surprisingly my dad doesn't bother me so much - I think because he just sounds like he's angrily shouting and it doesn't sound like a snz at all lmfao

The only other thing is just that I'm sad not everyone has this fetish. It's so sexy, I would love it to just be a part of default sex 🥲

[sturnslcver]

ੈ✩‧₊˚ virulent love (series) ˚.°: ₊˚ ୨

— chris sturniolo x fem reader —

— warnings, drinking, smoking, pills!

a/n: couldn’t figure out what i wanted to do for chris and y/n’s meet cute so it is heavily based off of a real life book i read, but ive already finished the rest of the story/chapters and it is all my own original ideas! enjoy! :)

ੈ✩‧₊˚ ˚.°: ₊˚ ୨

i creep up the stairs in search for my brothers apartment door. this place seems more like a historic hotel than an apartment complex, with its expansive columns and marble floors. when arlo said i could stay with him after hearing about another one of moms manic episodes, i had no idea he lived like an actual adult. I thought it’d be more similar to the last time i visited him, right after i graduated from high school, back when he had first started dealing. however, that was four years ago and a two story skimpy complex ago. that’s kind of what i was expecting. i certainly wasn’t anticipating this orderly area in the middle of downtown massachusetts. I spent all of last week packing up everything i own from mom’s house back in florida. luckily, i don’t own much. but after taking a five hundred mile drive alone today, my exhaustion is pretty obvious in my reflection. my hair is in a unsecured knot on top of my head, held together by a pencil, since I couldn't find a hair tie while I was driving. i reach into my purse to find chapstick, hoping to recover my lips before they end up as weary-looking as the rest of me. I pull my phone out of my pocket and open up my messages to arlo.

i can't remember which apartment number he said was his. it’s either 1372 or 1374. maybe it's 1372? i come to a stop at 1372, because there's a guy passed out on the floor of the hallway, leaning against the door to 1374. please don't let it be 1374. i find the message on my phone and cringe. it's 1374. of course it is.

i walk slowly to the door, hoping I don't wake up the guy. his legs are sprawled out in front of him, and he's leaning with his back propped up against arlo’s door. his chin is tucked to his chest, and he's snoring. "excuse me" i say, my voice just above a whisper. he doesn't move. i lift my leg and poke his shoulder with my foot. "i need to get into this apartment." he rustles and then slowly opens his eyes and stares straight ahead at my legs. his eyes meet my knees, and his eyebrows furrow as he slowly leans forward with a deep scowl on his face. he lifts a hand and pokes my knee with his finger, almost as if he's never seen a knee before. he drops his hand, closes his eyes, and falls back asleep against the door. great. arlo won't be back until tomorrow, so i dial his number to see if this guy is someone i should be concerned about. “y/n?" he asks, answering his phone without a hello. "yep," i reply. "made it safe, but i can't get in because there's a drunk guy passed out at your front door." "thirteen seventy four?" he asks. "you sure you're at the right apartment?" "positive." "are you sure he's drunk?" "positive." "weird," he says. "what’s he wearing?" "why do you want to know what he's wearing?" "if he's wearing a yellow shirt and goggles on his head he’s probably the janitor. the janitor in our complex is homeless" this guy isn't wearing any type of goggles, but i can't help but notice that his jeans and black hoodie do fit him very nicely. "no goggles," i say. “can you get past him without waking him up?" "i’d have to move him. he’ll fall inside if I open the door." he’s quiet for a few seconds while he thinks. "go back downstairs and wait in the lobby until someone can let you in" i sigh, because ive been driving for six hours, and going all the way back downstairs is not something I feel like doing right now.

“just stay on the phone with me until I'm inside your apartment" i like my plan a lot better. i balance my phone against my ear with my shoulder and dig inside my purse for the key arlo sent me. i insert it into the lock and begin to open the door, but the drunk guy begins to fall backward with every inch the door opens. he groans, but his eyes don't open again. "it’s too bad he's wasted," i tell arlo. "he’s not bad-looking." "can you just get your ass inside and lock the door so i can hang up." i roll my eyes. i’m hoping things will be different between us now that mom’s in the hospital. she was always turning us against one another. for example, by the time i was eleven, i’d saved up three hundred dollars so that i could finally get a pet hamster. she ended up stealing it and spending it on pills. she told me arlo stole it.

i wrap my purse around my shoulder, but it gets caught on my suitcase handle, so i just let it fall to the floor. i keep my left hand wrapped tightly around the doorknob and hold the door shut so the guy won't fall completely into the apartment. i take my foot and press it against his shoulder, pushing him from the center of the doorway. he doesn't budge. “arlo, he's too heavy. i’m gonna have to hang up so I can use both hands." “no, don't hang up. just put the phone in your pocket, but don't hang up." i look down at the oversized shirt and leggings I have on. “no pockets. you’re going in the bra." arlo laughs as i pull the phone from my ear and shove it inside my bra. i remove the key from the lock and drop it toward my purse, but it misses and falls to the floor. i reach down to grab the drunk guy so I can move him out of the way. “okay" I say, struggling to pull him away from the center of the doorway. "sorry." i somehow manage to prop him up against the doorframe to prevent him from falling into the apartment, and then i push the door open farther and turn to get my things.

something warm wraps around my ankle. i freeze. i look down. “let go!" i yell, kicking at the hand that's gripping my ankle so tightly I'm pretty sure it might bruise. the drunk guy is looking up at me now, and his grip sends me falling backward into the apartment when I try to pull away from him. "i need to get in there” , he mutters, just as my butt meets the floor. he makes an attempt to push the apartment door open with his other hand, and this immediately sends me into panic mode. i pull my legs the rest of the way inside, and his hand comes with me. i use my free leg to kick the door shut, slamming it directly onto his wrist. “fuck!" he yells. he’s trying to pull his hand back into the hallway with him, but my foot is still pressing against the door. i release enough pressure for him to have his hand back, and then i immediately kick the door all the way shut.

i pull myself up and lock the door, the dead bolt, and the chain lock as quickly as i can. as soon as my heart rate begins to calm down, it starts to scream at me. my heart is actually screaming at me. in a deep male voice. It sounds like it's calling my name. arlo. i immediately look down at my chest and pull my phone out of my bra, then bring it up to my ear. "hello!" i wince, then pull the phone several inches from my ear. "i’m fine," i say, out of breath. "i’m inside. i locked the door." “okay" he says, relieved. "you scared me. what the hell happened?" “he was trying to get inside. i locked the door, though." i flip on the living-room light and take no more than three steps inside before i come to a halt. i slowly turn back toward the door after realizing what ive done. “arlo?" i pause. "i left a few things outside that i need. i would just grab them, but the drunk guy is still trying to get in, so there's no way I'm opening the door again. what do i do?” he’s silent for a few seconds. "what did you leave in the hallway?" i don't want to answer him, but i do. "my suitcase...and purse." “why the hell is your purse outside?" "i also left the key on the hallway floor." he doesn't even respond to that one. he just groans. "i’ll call chris and see if he's home yet. give me two minutes." "wait. who’s chris ?" "he lives across the hall. whatever you do, don't open the door again until i call you back." arlo hangs up, and i lean against his front door. i’ve lived in massachusetts all of thirty minutes. my phone rings. i slide my thumb across the screen and answer it.

"hey." "y/n?" "yeah?," i reply, wondering why he always double-checks to see if it's me. he called me, so who else would be answering it who sounds exactly like me? "i called chris." “good. is he gonna help me get my stuff?" "not exactly," arlo says. "i kind of need you to do me a huge favor." my head falls against the door again. i have a feeling the next few months are going to be full of inconvenient favors, since he knows he's doing me a huse one by letting me stay here. "what?" i ask him. "chris kind of needs your help." "the neighbor?" i pause as soon as it clicks, and i close my eyes. "arlo, please don't tell me the guy you called to protect me from the drunk guy is the drunk guy." arlo sighs. "i need you to unlock the door and let him in. let him crash on the couch. i’ll be there first thing in the morning. when he sobers up, he'll know where he is, and he'll go straight home." i shake my head. "what kind of apartment complex is this? should i prepare to be groped by drunk people every time I come home?" long pause. "he groped you?" "groped might be a bit strong. he did grab my ankle, though." arlo lets out a sigh. "just do this for me. call me back when you've got him and all your stuff inside." "fine." i groan, recognizing the worry in his voice.

i hang up on arlo and open the door. the drunk guy falls onto his shoulder, and his cell phone slips from his hand and lands on the floor next to his head. i flip him onto his back and look down at him. he cracks his eyes open and attempts to look up at me, but his eyelids fall shut again. "You're not arlo," he mutters. "no. i’m not. i’m your new neighbor." i lift him by his shoulders and try to get him to sit up, but he doesn't. i don't think he can, actually. how does a person even get this drunk? i grab his hands and pull him inch by inch into the apartment, stopping when he's just far enough inside for me to be able to close the door. i retrieve all of my things from outside the apartment, then shut and lock the front door. i grab a throw pillow from the couch, prop his head up, and roll him onto his side in case he pukes in his sleep. and that's all the help he's getting from me. when he's comfortably asleep in the middle of the living room floor, i leave him there while I look around the apartment.

the living room alone could fit three of the living rooms from arlos last apartment. arlo said he'd be back in the morning, so i’ll leave that to him. normally, i would be nervous about the fact that there's a stranger in the same apartment I'm in, but i have a feeling i don't need to worry. arlo would never ask me to help someone he felt might be a threat to me in any way. which confuses me, because if this is common behavior for chris, i’m surprised arlo asked me to bring him inside.

i head back to the living room to turn out the lights, but when ive rounded the corner, i come to an immediate halt. not only is chris up off the floor, but he's in the kitchen, with his head pressed against his arms and his arms folded on top of the kitchen counter. he’s seated on the edge of a bar stool, and he looks as if he's about to fall off it any second. i can't tell if he's sleeping again or just attempting to recover. "chris?" he doesn't move when i call his name, so i walk toward him and gently lay my hand on his shoulder to shake him awake. the second my fingers squeeze his shoulder, he gasps and sits up straight as if I just woke him from the middle of a dream. or a nightmare. immediately, he slides off the stool and onto very unstable legs. he begins to sway, so i throw his arm over my shoulder and try to walk him out of the kitchen. "come on." he drops his forehead to the side of my head and stumbles along with me, making it even harder to hold him up. we make it to the front of the couch, and i start to peel him off me. "okay, chris. whoever you are. just go to sleep." he falls onto the couch, but he doesn't let go of my shoulders. i fall with him and immediately attempt to pull away. i gently push him back into the couch, yanking my hand away. i lay his pillow down and urge him onto it. "go to sleep, chris," i say gently.

his eyelids are heavy and watering when he drops to the pillow. he grabs my hand and hums. his eyes fall shut again, and he releases a heavy sigh. i stare at him silently, allowing him to keep hold of my hand until he's quiet and still. i pull my hand away from his, but i stay by his side for a few minutes longer. even though he's asleep, he somehow still looks as if he's on edge. his eyebrows are furrowed, and his breathing is sporadic, failing to fall into a peaceful pattern. when he makes another half conscious effort to reach for my hand, i finally give in. i place my cheek on top of our hands and lean into the couch. i fall asleep on the floor next to him.

@sturnsmadison @ryli3sworld @sunnysturniolos @ariologyy @sturncakez @sturnsxplr-25 @nickmillersn1gf

[calcifiedunderland]

Pride and Prejudice: A TWSTed AU

The Keeper of the Underworld: I. Shroud

Introduction, or Pick another route!

Idia x GN Reader (they/them)

Warnings: P&P-level angst and miscommunication, some cringe dialogue, parties, possibly ooc Idia, I wrote this before playing Book 6 so I apologize if there’s any inconsistencies

Notes: The level of overthinking I put into these fics is unreal 💀 First and foremost, thank you all for your patience!! Idia was hard to write, but I hope you enjoy, shrimpies~

———

Well this is certainly something, you thought. Of all the things you’d witnessed at NRC, (even overblots), you didn’t think you’d ever see Idia Shroud at one of Kalim’s parties.

You sipped on your drink when a shock of bright blue flames came in the corner of your eye, contrasting the orange-red of Scarabia. Kalim lead Idia into the dorm, bright and sunny, compared to the look on Idia’s face. Poor guy couldn’t even escape, because Cater and Rook ambled in behind him, chatting happily.

It was like the beginning of a joke: A sultan, a card soldier, a huntsman, and a blue flame-headed gamer walk into a room.

Kalim spotted you and grinned, grabbing Idia’s hoodie sleeve and dragging him over too. “Hey (name)! I’m glad you could make it!”

You smiled at the Scarabia Housewarden, “Thanks Kalim! I-“ At that moment, Jamil reached him to drag him away, mumbling exasperatedly to Kalim about being careful. Kalim laughed Jamil off, “sorry (name)! I’ll see you later, okay?” “Alright then…” you trailed off and turned to Idia, who looked like a deer in headlights.

“So…” you rocked on your heels. To be honest, you didn’t know how to approach him sometimes. Sure, you’d gamed with him a few times (with heavy insistence from Ortho) and you weren’t on his ‘avoid at all costs’ ranking list, but Idia did have his odd moments. Some days, you two would get along like a house on fire. Other times, it was like Idia hated you - avoiding you even in tablet-mode, and ghosting your chats.

You’d like to think that your more friendly moments were the ones that Idia counted, but sometimes it was hard to get a read on the guy.

“I didn’t know that you’d be at Kalim’s party today. I thought Ortho said there was an event in… um…?” You finished, cringing at your vagueness. You might not have known much about the game he played, even though he’d made you play it when you came over to Ignihyde, but you knew he probably didn’t want to be here of all places.

Idia’s hair flared a bit, and he looked resigned and moody. He pulled out his tablet. Ya, the event dropped today but I got mobbed by kalim + the extroverts. “That sucks,” you said, “I got dragged here by Ace. Still, it’s nice to see you.” In the oil lamp lighting, you could’ve sworn Idia’s hair turned a bit pink.

You were both silent, and you opened your mouth to speak when Lilia yelled out from the front, “let’s get this party started!” Kalim started drumming wildly, and then electric guitar swelled. Lilia began screaming heavy-metal-style into the mic. Around you, everyone started dancing, and even you found yourself moving to the rhythm.

You glanced at Idia every now and again, but he looked vaguely annoyed and tired despite the liveliness. He looks so over it, you thought. Probably since Kalim maybe dragged him here. You looked around, biting your lip when you noticed your friends having a grand old time on the dance floor, and kind of wanted to go too. Still, it wasn’t every day you saw Idia, and you wanted to do something with him. Especially since he was… well, here.

“So, Idia…” Idia’s eyes snapped to yours, dull. You rocked back on your feet, “do you dance?” Idia rolled his eyes, and you felt your heart sink, for some reason. Obvi not, id probs distract everyone anyway. And also id just rather not if I can help it. Your smile wavered, “c’mon Idia, anyone can dance, even if it’s not good!” Idia typed rapidly into the tablet, i mean ur not wrong. Like literally anyone can dance but ppl only do it bc its wat normies do.

You opened your mouth, then squared your shoulders, words failing you. Idia shoved a hand into his pockets and opened an app on the tablet, scrolling. You swayed for a bit, feeling awkward while Idia kept his eyes glued to the screen, a frown creasing his brows. Finally you shrugged your shoulders, trying to shake that sinking-feeling off.

You stepped into the crowd of dancing people, swaying to the music and trying not to look over at the blue flames swaying in the corner. Unknowing to you, Idia glanced up from his tablet every few minutes, trying to catch a glimpse of you, before trudging back to the cold chrome of Ignihyde, back to his dorm.

———

Ugh, could this get any worse?

Idia flopped onto his bed, shoving his headphones on and opening the mobile game on his phone. Not only did he get a late start on the game event, but he flubbed a chance to talk to you. Even if you did want to dance like all the other non-introverts at Scarabia. Thank Sevens Ortho didn’t know he missed his chance, otherwise the little robot would’ve torn Idia apart.

Idia shut his eyes and went over the details. Doing this IRL was trash-tier. Why couldn’t this just be a good-old-fashioned otome game, or romance anime? First you meet the love interest, then you find things they’re into, then you talk to them more. Then finally you confess, and cue the outro. He’d watched countless shojo and romance anime’s, and that was the basic outline. Eventually, the ethereal, gorgeous, smart, kind protagonist (aka you) would fall in love with their love interest (aka him) and it would all work out. Boom. Happily ever after.

Ah, yes. He could see it now.

Cherry blossom petals rained around both of you. Where are they coming from, this campus doesn’t grow cherry blossoms? Whatever, don’t question it. Anyway, the petals fluttered past your beautiful, sparkling eyes as you stared up at Idia with adoration and love. Idia stared down at you with full-rizz, kabedoning you against the wall.

“Oh, Idia-senpai!” You’d cry, eyes turning into hearts as sparkles and pink flower petals surround you both. “You’re so cool and not cringe at all! I could never want one of those normies! You’re the only one for me! Please date me!” And then Ortho would set off the heart-shaped fireworks and you two would finally kiss-kiss-fall-in-love, just like the popular anime Our High School Has A Host Club And The Leader Falls In Love With Me?!

“Whee hee hee…” Idia stared off into the distance, giggling ominously to himself and hair turning pink at the ends. His character on the screen went into idle mode, and he didn’t even hear when Ortho floated into the room. “Big brother?” Ortho gently tapped him on the shoulder, yanking him from his shojo daydream. Idia jumped, hair flaring. “AAAIIIIEEEE-“ Ortho jumped back, eyes wide but not detecting any signs of injury on Idia.

Idia breathed heavily, wide-eyed. “Ortho! Wh-when did-? I wasn’t-!” Ortho analyzed his heart beat, noting that Idia had traces of blush on his cheeks and his erratic behavior pointed to- “Were you thinking about (name) (last name)?” Ortho asked innocently, his theory proven when Idia flushed and went pinker. The younger boy suddenly got an idea.

“You know, (Name)’s heart rate goes up when they interact with you,” Ortho watched his brother’s eyes widen, “even when you’re not there, when you’re mentioned, their heart rate increases by 45% and they are more likely to be in a positive mood. 82% of the time, they regard you in a positive way.” His eyes lit up happily with realization, “If my calculations are correct, they have feelings for you!”

Idia sat there, thinking. What were the odds you would like him back? Sure, you made him happy, and more importantly made Ortho happy. And it was actually nice talking to you. And he never felt exhausted after interacting with you. And maybe you did enjoy the artificial light of Ignihyde to the spring sun above, and maybe you would like being with dreary, nerdy him.

Ortho could see his brother lost in thought, noting that Idia’s heart rate spiked when he mentioned you. “I also overheard them telling Grim about finding a partner,” he said casually, omitting that you’d been wanting a partner in Alchemy, and not necessarily a romantic partner.

That seemed to fire Idia up. Ortho could see the metaphorical cogs in Idia’s brain turning, an entire blueprint of a plan being made in his mind. At last, a wide cunning grin spread on his face, and he opened his arms, “well, who else but a genius could be partners with the MC?” He said arrogantly, “it’s not like just anybody can woo the protagonist!”

Ortho beamed, cheering, “all you need to do now is confess!” Idia immediately began sweating, freezing up. “H-huh?!”

——

You frowned at your textbook, rubbing your temples as you read through the alchemy procedure. Ugh, this couldn’t get any more confusing.

As you turned to begin writing, the door burst open. You flinched and immediately locked eyes with a frazzled Idia. His golden eyes were wide, and he was panting - he even looked sweaty. Somehow his blue fire hair seemed just as frazzled as him, looking pale-blue in shock. Could flames somehow look poofy?

“Prefect!” He squeaked. “Idia?” You questioned, what’s he doing here? It was odd that he’d be out of his room at six in the afternoon, not to mention he looked afraid of you. It wasn’t like you were a stranger, even though as of late, he treated you like one.

He stared at you from the door for an uncomfortable amount of time, then sped-walked to stand in front of you. You looked up at him from your seat, tapping your fingers. You awkwardly asked “do you wanna sit down?” He shook his head quickly, the ends of his hair were turning pink. You frowned, “…dude, are you okay?”

Idia flinched. He pivoted on his heel, “no, no, can’t do it, not today-“ he scuttled out of the room and slammed the door, screeching to himself and pulling his hood over his head. You stared at the door, vaguely hearing Idia freaking out to… was that Ortho? You heard the little robot boy’s voice through the door, probably calming Idia down, along with an odd spraying sound.

It went quiet and you assumed they’d left. Whatever, weirder things have happened at NRC. As you went back to writing, the door slammed open again. You jumped, heart beating wildly. Idia stormed over to you, hair blazing a trail behind him. He slammed his hands down on the desk, and your eyes watered with the scent of overpowering cologne bodyspray.

“Prefect! I need to tell you something!” Idia’s eyes steeled in determination, and he looked you dead in the eye. He was breathing heavily, and his flamed hair blazed and curled more than usual, turning deep pinkish-red near the ends. The last time you saw his hair similar to that, was when he was rage-playing during one of your gaming sessions. How pissed is he? You felt your heart leap into your throat.

“Idia,” you began, freaked out, “I think you should sit down-“ Idia blazed on, “this is honestly a horrible decision for you and definitely for me. I don’t even want to think about what Mother and Father would say, not to mention how this’d affect Styx.” He was tunnel visioning now. “Plus you don’t even have magic and this might not even work out anyway ‘cause I don’t see us working out TBH…” Slowly his hair began fizzling out, voice getting quieter and quieter as he mumbled to himself.

This was a terrible idea, Idia realized. After everything that had happened with Styx, not to mention everything you had to deal with personally, it wouldn’t be good to get involved with him. You could be in danger, especially as a non-magic user. No, it would be selfish of him to ask you to be with him. Why would you, anyway? There were other guys at NRC, not to mention the entire Sage’s Island, who would be a better fit for not. Especially ones who didn’t kidnap your friends and Grim. Especially someone like Idia.

No, he concluded. He shouldn’t have come.

You frowned deeply. “Idia, what…?” Your alchemy work definitely wasn’t done yet and Idia was making zero sense. He sighed, as if tired all of a sudden. “Nope, no… this isn’t going to work.” He stood abruptly and sped-walked out the door, brushing past Ortho. You overheard the boy try to get his brother to come back, but Idia didn’t stop. You could feel your heartbeat in your ears. So that’s what this is about? Idia didn’t want to be friends with you anymore? All because you weren’t… what? A tech whiz? Good at gaming? Magical? Your heart dropped. Because you were just too different from him? So you weren’t good enough to be even friends with him?

Your eyes stung at the thought. Fine. If Idia wanted to be that way, then fine. You shoved your books into you bag and headed back to Ramshackle. You doubted you’d be able to focus, anyway.

———

Poor Ortho was confused.

After running simulation after simulation, scouring the Internet for any clues, and piecing together what Idia said after running out of the classroom, he just couldn’t understand what happened. That was a first, considering it was Ortho.

Idia had ran out of the room in a hurry, mumbling incoherently. “Brother! What’s happening?” Ortho flew to him, scanning his vitals. Idia seemed to be ok, but his brother seemed… strangely melancholic. “Ortho, it won’t work out,” he said dejectedly, not wanting to talk about it.

Ortho called after him, trailing behind “What did (name) (last name) say? There was a high probability they’d accept your-” Idia sighed in exasperation, shaking his head. “It won’t work. I should’ve never left the dorm…” As Idia trudged back to Ignihyde, Ortho was left with more questions.

He hovered for a moment, before heading back to the alchemy room for you, only to not find you there. Ortho thought hard, thinking back to what Idia said. ‘It won’t work out,’ was what he said - not a flat-out rejection from you. So that meant…

He began floating back to Ignihyde, determined. I can still save this!

———

You were taking overthinking to a new level.

You bit your lip, staring at the game’s chatbox in front of you. Idia was online, and probably didn’t realize you were too. You leaned against the Heartslabyul common room couch (curse Ramshackle’s lack of internet!), and hit send.

Hey is everything ok??

You watched Idia’s game icon immediately switch to “online less than 1 minute ago,” and groaned.

Cater exited the kitchens, leaning over the couch back. “Hey~ what’s got my fave frosh so worked up?” He chirped, looking at your phone. “Ohh, isn’t that the popular game that’s been trending? Wait, didn’t you say Idia got you into it?” Cater immediately had his phone in hand, “that’s supes adorable, playing with friends is so fun-“

You cut him off, throwing your hands up, “that’s it! Idia just doesn’t want to talk to me! He- he just-!” You grabbed a throw pillow and smashed your face into it, groaning. Cater patted your shoulder sympathetically, “well, we’re playing at another one of Kalim’s parties tonight, you want in?” You sniffed dramatically, thinking. “Well, I guess. Sure, why not?”

Later that evening, you stepped into the Scarabia mirror. You and Cater made your way to the food table. As you both munched on Jamil’s cooking (damn, the guy made a good curry), you watched everyone dancing. “Y’know, it was weird seeing Idia at a party,” you commented, while Cater nodded. “Yeah! We decided to bring him along that day, it was fun seeing him.”

You sighed, “yeah, it was, but… it’s not really often that we can hang out in person. I kinda wanted to dance with him last time, but he sort of… blew me off? I guess maybe it wasn’t the best idea.” You winced, while Cater’s eyebrows rose. “You didn’t tell me that. So, he did that and also told you he didn’t want to be friends?” You nodded, frustration flooding back, “Yeah! And I just don’t understand how he can be so conceited about him being so high and smart, and not like me because I don’t-“

“Prefect,” Cater cleared his throat. You looked up mid-rant, meeting Ortho’s eyes, and jumped. He just snuck up on you both like it was nothing. Did he hear you? Hopefully he wouldn’t be mad. In your mind, Idia started it.

“Hello (name) (last name)!” Ortho said pleasantly, so you assumed he hadn’t heard you. Great. “I didn’t know you’d be here! What a coincidence!” That was a lie, Ortho overheard you and Cater talking about the party when you were walking to Scarabia. He absolutely knew. And he dragged Idia here because of it.

“Yep,” you smiled at Ortho, “it’s nice to see you.” Ortho mentally readied himself and remembered every bit of acting advice Vil gave him. “I almost forgot!” His eyes widened, while your eyes narrowed. Ortho was a robot. He didn’t forget shit. “Big brother is here, and he wanted to ask you to dance!” What? Your neck snapped around, looking for Idia’s bright blue hair. Cater elbowed you, bringing you back to reality.

“I-well, I- had not-“ you stammered, fumbling for an excuse. Ortho’s eyes shone at you like puppy eyes, and your anger at Idia cracked. “…yeah, sure,” you watched Ortho rise a bit in the air happily, “Yippee! I’ll go get him!” He zipped off, and you rubbed your temples. Cater twisted a strand of his hair, eyes wide. “Yikes…” “tell me about it,” you groaned.

A few minutes later, you both looked up when Kalim tapped the mic. You didn’t miss Ortho hovering a ways behind Kalim. “Hey everyone! Thanks for coming!” When the cheering died down, Kalim continued, “We’re gonna try something different! Everyone, find a partner and join the dance floor!”

Cater glanced at you, mischievous. “Welp, I can’t leave them hanging~ TTYL, Prefect!” And he left faster than you could say ‘Magicam.’ Sweet.

You hesitantly stepped to the dance floor, half expecting Ortho to float up to you and sheepishly tell you Idia left. Your mind drifted back to that day in the alchemy room. I guess it wouldn’t work, anyway.

To your surprise, a finger tapped your shoulder. You turned, seeing Idia with a with a flushed expression, wearing a casual-but-chic blazer. His hair looked a bit tamer than normal, and cascaded down his back in a low ponytail, bangs flickering over his forehead. Undoubtedly, this was the work of Ortho, who definitely got pointers from Vil.

You both stared at each other, unmoving, until slow music began playing. You averted your eyes. Idia gulped, eyes widening until waving caught his eye. Ortho was flying upwards a little ways away from the slowly-crowding dance floor, gesturing wildly at you. As if that wasn’t enough, he projected words above his head: DANCE WITH THEM!

Idia was lucky that everyone else was more interested in dancing with their partner than Ortho. His eyes snapped back to you, “s-so I guess you wanna-“ he swallowed thickly, eyes shifting to the dance floor. You shrugged, feigning nonchalance and looked ahead. Idia looked back at Ortho, who was pointing wildly at the words. He thought to himself, this is fine. It’s just the mandatory side quest. It’s not fighting the boss. It’s…

It’s charming the love interest. It’s solidifying your route!

Idia steeled himself and forced your hand into his. Your eyes shot to his in surprise, and he walked stiffly to the dance floor. Your hand clasped his, and you both swayed gently to the soft rock from the stage. Your brows furrowed, but Idia locked his gaze onto you, focusing only on you.

Yes, he thought. This is just the player’s pov on the screen, and he was only focusing on the love interest. The other waltzers didn’t exist. The party didn’t exist. It was just you and him.

Meanwhile, you were at a loss for words. While Idia seemed taciturn, you glanced up at the stage. Cater, Kalim, and Lilia were in their own little bubble jamming out, so that wasn’t a lifeline. After a little while of swaying with Idia, you hummed, “I haven’t seen you in a while. Since that day.” Idia’s hands felt clammy, and in the dimmed lights you saw a small pink dusting Idia’s cheeks. You saw him swallow heavily, but he didn’t say a word.

The tension grew between you two, and despite feeling hurt, you felt a little bad. Still, you wanted some answers out of Idia, after the incident in the alchemy room. “Y’know, you never used to be this… odd around me.” Was it the crowd that made him quiet, or… You felt a lump in your throat. Was it you?

Idia’s eyebrows shot up, thinking fast on what to say. Why can't conversations irl have ready-made dialogue?! “I… we c-can talk about wh-whatever you want? I guess?” He tried, kicking himself internally for leaving his tablet with Ortho. You bit the inside of your cheek as you stepped with him, that’ll do for now. “Scarabia parties are a little much, but they’re more pleasant than the Pomefiore mock balls,” you tried “wouldn’t you say?” After an uncomfortable pause, expecting a reply, you mumbled to yourself, “I guess we can stop talking now.”

“...is it like a rule for normies to chat while dancing? Isn’t the act of moving enough?” Idia mumbled in exasperation, hand tightening a little on your own. You bit your lip, your eyes burning. “No, I prefer to not talk to my friends at all and tell them we can’t be friends. It’s so much fun, right?” Idia’s eyes widened, and he scrambled for words, “I- I didn’t mean…” You stopped swaying abruptly, both of your clasped hands in the air. “Why are you here, Idia?”

A chill went through Idia. “T-To be honest, I didn’t even want to come to this stupid IRL dance,” he rushed out, “TBH Ortho had to make me come ‘cause he told me you’d be here-“ “You didn’t want…?” You cut Idia off, heart dropping. The other dancing couples swirled around you, but all the commotion around you felt like nothing more than idle chatter. Hurt flashed in your eyes, and Idia seemed shocked, which made you angry.

“I guess you wouldn’t want to be friends with someone who’s magicless, especially since you have STYX right?”

Idia’s eyes were wider than the Heartslabyul tea saucers. For once, he didn’t have a smart-ass reply. “Um, what? Obvi, I’m kind of stuck with STYX-” You let go of his hand and took a step back, almost bumping into a waltzing couple. “Yeah, wouldn’t want me to mess things up. Make any bad decisions and all that, right?” You felt your eyes water, despite yourself.

Furiously balling a fist and wiping your eyes, “Since you said we wouldnt work out n’stuff.” Idia suddenly remembered everything he’d muttered to himself, from the moment he’d stormed into the room to when he’d left dejectedly. When he’d made his choice and left before you could even get your word in.

Like a coward.

Idia’s heart pounded but shakingly, he reached a hand out to you. “P-prefect, I-I-!” You dodged the crowd, and ran out of Scarabia. You didn’t look back until you crashed through Ramshackle’s door, raced up the stairs, and fell onto your bed, Grim yelping in surprise as you tried your darndest to forget everything that just happened.

Back in Scarabia, Idia somehow stumbled off the dance floor, staggering to a table and breathing heavily. Mentally he replayed everything that just happened. Ortho floated over to him, “Brother? I don’t understand, why would (name) (last name) not accept your feelings?” Ortho went over the footage when he was observing you both dancing, and frowned.

“My senses indicate that based on their body language, they were upset with you. What happened?” Idia swallowed heavily, “I-I said it wouldn’t work out between us c-cuz they don’t have magic,” he stammered, eyes wide, “a-and STYX and-...” Ortho’s eyes widened, then narrowed, “That shouldn’t be a problem! You know that!”

“I meant for them, Ortho.” Idia sighed heavily, sinking into the chair. “I don’t want them to get hurt. Not when…” his mind wandered to Ortho, before NRC. He fell into deep thought. “In the end, I couldn’t even tell them...” He frowned deeply.

Ortho fell quiet, computing. Idia stared at the table, dejected, until Ortho spoke. “You know (Name) (lastname) doesn’t back down easily from a challenge.” That’s true. From playing games with Idia to taking down overblots, you weren’t someone who ran away when it mattered. Maybe that’s why Idia liked you - you were like the protagonists in animes, who found a way to make the world their own.

“You shouldn’t make (name) (last name)’s decision for them.” Idia looked up at his brother. Ortho continued, head angling to the side, Idia shook his head dejectedly, “it won’t work-”

“Your lil’ bro is right, y’know,” Cater walked over, shaking his hair out with his guitar slung over his shoulder. “Sry, I overheard you two,” Cater could piece together what happened. He did see you blow up at Idia (although he couldn’t hear you), and after spamming your phone with no reply after you ran out, now he had an idea of what was going on. “Y’know, if you didn’t tell them how you felt, then how could you know you were making the right choice?”

Idia looked down. Ortho piped up, “Cater Diamond is right.” Idia shut his eyes, then stood up, hands tightening into fists. Cater jumped back as Idia’s hair flared up bright blue, and the Ignihyde housewarden headed straight to the exit. Ortho called out, “thank you, Cater Diamond!” and floated after Idia, “Brother! Wait!”

“Lets go, Ortho,” Idia’s golden eyes steeled in determination, “I can fix this.”

—----

A knock on the door jolted you from your reading of Prejudice and Pride.

It was early morning. Somehow, even though it was the weekend and you’d stayed up all night, you still woke up at an ungodly early hour. After being unable to fall asleep (totally not because of Grim’s snoring and sleep-munching) you decided to go to your living room and read. You were sure that you didn’t have a guest coming, so why would…?

You got up and opened the door, expecting Ace or Deuce or something. The annoyed look on your face turned to shock when you saw Idia standing on your porch. In one hand, he held a bouquet of pomegranate-red roses and some flowers you recognized to be asphodel.

You both stared at each other, unwilling to move. “Idia,” you breathed, “why are you here?” Idia shuffled awkwardly, “I wanted to see you.” You crossed your arms, looking around. “Where’s Ortho?” You were sure the little robot boy made his brother come. Otherwise, why would Idia be here? Idia rubbed the back of his neck, “Ortho isn’t here. I… I wanted to see you,” he repeated.

Wordlessly, he thrust the flowers into your arms, and you wrapped your arm around it instinctively. “I- um,” you looked everywhere but Idia, who was staring at the Ramshackle doorway. “Idia,” you cleared your throat, “about what happened-” “Prefect, I… I wanted to apologize.” Your eyes widened, but Idia continued.

“I… I didn’t mean what I said that day.” Idia looked bashful, face turning pink and the ends of his hair turning a deep blush. He kept talking, rambling on and fighting he urge to grab his tablet and let the device speak for him. “I… really like being friends with you.” The words came out quietly from him, and even though he looked like he wanted to sink into his hoodie, Idia didn’t shirk away.

A lump rose in your throat as you didn’t make eye contact with him, instead playing with the flower bouquet, “I like being friends with you too,” you bit your lip, rubbing an asphodel petal, “I like you, Idia.”

Idia’s eyes widened and went rigid. Both his face and his hair went deep pink. Your own eyes widened at the color, and you felt your face grow hot. So that’s what it meant…? Not anger…?Wordlessly, without thinking, you dropped the bouquet. Your body moved on its own, and you flung yourself at Idia, wrapping your arms around his shoulders and squeezing your eyes shut.

Idia staggered back from the momentum with a squeak, but wrapped his arms around your torso with an iron grip. You gripped his hoodie tightly, finally understanding what had gone on for so long. Your cheek was pressed against his, and despite the early morning chill, you both felt warm.

High above, Ortho hovered in the distance over the tree canopies from afar. He zoomed in on you and Idia, and behind his face mask, he beamed. In midair, he did a heart-shaped loop-de-loop in happiness, and hovered back to Ignihyde.

After a few minutes, you leaned back in Idia’s arms, the both of you chuckling in happy disbelief. You looked up and saw a little blue streak leaving a smoke trail of a heart, and laughed to yourself. Idia turned around, seeing his brother above, a soft reminiscent look on his face.

“…guess Ortho was right.”

~END

——-

Fun fact: the beginning is inspired by idia’s school uniform vignette!!!

Me, while writing this: wow Idia and Cater’s dialogue are unique, they’d be hard to write

Also me: *puts both of them in this fic and suffers*

Writing Idia was SO HARD but I hope I managed to get him right-ish. Trying to balance his reactions with the dialogue was hard 😭

anyway thanks for reading~ please leave a comment/reblog!! <3

Taglist: @cerisescherries, @eclecticprincecollector, @ars-tral, @thehollowwriter, @twst-eeps, @casperandcats, @ttokkisbee, @mitsuriswaifu, @parad-ice-lostandfound, @sad-sie, @moyo5653

(If your user is in bold, I wasn’t able to tag you properly)

[honkytonk-hangman]

Just Another Thing – [1]

Walt 'Finn' Finnegan x Reader/OC

Summary: God help anyone who might've thought a nice, stable relationship might bring some kind of change to Walt Finnegan's usual mischief and mild-hedonism. God especially help them if they also thought a girlfriend would provide any sort of calming influence over him.

She definitely influenced him, anyone could tell you that, unfortunately just never in any way that could even remotely be described as 'calm'.

Warnings: cussing, mentions of and talk of sex, sexy body parts, ect. reader/OC is named Kimberly/Kimber, but it is still written in second person and her name shouldn't come up very often.

Notes: oh boy oh boy oh boy you have no clue how excited i am for this fic. it's literally been in the works for over a year. i'd even go as far as to say it's my fave fic in recent memory!!! Im not sure yet how many parts, but the story does have a beginning and end.

It's not necessary to have watched the film before reading this fic, as this is set in the year after, around 1982, however certain character dynamics could be confusing. Also i definitely headcanon Finn and Beverly becoming good friends, hidden beneath a layer of exasperation of course but he is definitely the type to go to all the theatre stuff like come on look at him!!!!!

okay enough from me now heres the fic I really hope you enjoy!!!

You register the alarm on your friends’ face’s far too late to do anything, and the next thing you know you’re clutching the crown of your head, a dull throbbing ache now pulsing under your fingertips.

It wasn’t an entirely unfamiliar sensation, you’ve been hit in the head by a ball plenty of times, but the sheer weight behind this particular impact stood out to you. That, and you knew it couldn’t have been the volleyball you and your friend’s were playing with, because you currently held it.

“What the fu–” you begin angrily, already whipping around in the direction you’d been hit, cutting yourself off at the sight of an approaching man, a look of genuine remorse painted on his features as he jogs toward you. Behind him, a group of guys with baseball gloves watch on with various cringing expressions. Just as the man nears you, his eyes subtly travel up and down your figure, his lip quirking with approval, but he keeps his face apologetic. He comes to a stop several feet away, where the baseball had landed, but doesn’t take his eyes off of you, placing his hands on his hips and lifting his chin at you.

“Sorry ‘bout that,” he says, and it at least sounds sincere. “Roper’s never had much of an eye.”

You purse your lips, but try not to look too angry. He was cute, you realise dumbly, still rubbing your head. Dirty blond hair settled in light waves at the top of his collar, a matching blond moustache groomed neatly above his upper lip. He was tall, broad across the shoulders and chest in a way you’d only ever really seen on guys who worked out, athletes and the like. He also looked a little older than a lot of the students you’d see walking around campus, and he certainly didn’t approach you with the confidence of a freshman, so you figure he must be at least an upperclassmen.

“Well, maybe y'all should work on that with him,” you grumble lightly, and drop your hand.

“You okay?” he nods at your head, and you shift to lean on one foot, not missing the flicker of his eyes to watch as you do, or the way he lingers on your rapidly rising and falling chest before he meets your eye again.

“Isn’t the first time, certainly won’t be the last. Hair probably won’t sit right tonight, though,” you complain.

“Big date?” he asks, the teasing tone unmistakable. You lift your chin a little indignantly.

“I’m sure your day is just riding on my answer, but I don’t feel particularly inclined on telling you that,” you huff, heart rate doubling when he laughs, looking away from you for the first time as he grins widely.

“Well, how about this,” he starts once he’s sobered, bending down to swipe the baseball from the grass, taking a step toward you as he does. “The next time I see you, I promise you won’t get hit in the head,” he waves the ball as if you need reminding, but takes another step closer. “And you tell me what night works best to take you out?”

You fail to hide the amused smile that pulls at your lips, but then again, you weren’t really one for playing hard to get. You can see now that he’s only a few feet away, that his eyes are a startling green, and you think you wouldn’t mind running into him again, sans head injury.

“Alright,” you tell him, stepping back with a nod. “Next time.”

It takes all of your will power to turn away from him and move back towards your friends, though you feel his eyes on you for some distance, and make sure you swing your hips just a little more than you usually might.

Part of you regrets not making plans then and there, but the other part of you shivers at the already building tension of your potential next meeting.

Squinting at your reflection in the mirror, you flip your feathery waves once more over your shoulder, before almost immediately letting it fall back where it was. Just as you’d predicted, thanks to the decent-sized lump on the crown of your head, your Jerry Hall blowout was looking less supermodel and more super-odd.

Scrunching your nose as you mess with your tresses one last time, let out a huff, and force yourself to turn away, just in time for Nancy to appear at your open door, her curled fingers tapping gently on the wood.

“Hey Kimber,” she begins, pausing to give you a whistle as you exit your bathroom and do a twirl for her. Your collared halter-neck jumpsuit was supposed to be worn with a ruffle-neck blouse, but you’d never intended to style it that way, not to mention it was tight enough that you’re not totally sure you’d even be able to fit said blouse beneath it anyway.

“Something’s telling me Miss Texas ‘56 didn’t have this particular ensemble in mind when she ordered this for you outta her fancy lil’ Saks catalogue…” Nancy teases. You roll your eyes.

“Saks don’t do catalogues.” you correct her with a faux air of haughtiness, but don’t bother to contend her point. All of your housemates were more than familiar with your former Beauty Queen mother, despite never having met her. The monthly ‘care packages’ she sent you, filled with various ‘in season’ (see: frivolous) items of clothing and ‘essentials’ spoke volumes about who exactly Mrs Charlene Wynne was. That mostly just amounting to ‘eternally neurotic but well-meaning’. 

Nancy pokes her tongue out at you and scoffs out a laugh.

“Whatever, the point is; Mama doesn't always know best. You look foxy!”

You let out a laugh and smooth your hands over your thighs, thanking her softly.

You weren’t at all oblivious to the way you looked. Certainly you were no Raquel Welch, but most days you could manage something in the realm of Christie Brinkley or Cheryl Ladd, which was pretty damn good. You had your mother to thank for that, though your dad was no slouch either, but considering your mother couldn’t walk ten steps without someone recognising her from her Miss Texas win almost thirty years ago, you’ll give her most of the credit. As a result of your parent’s contributions, you’d become aware fairly quickly of the effect you tended to have on men, especially College men.

“Did you need me for something?” you prompt after a few more moments of Nancy preening over your outfit, remembering that she had come up here with a purpose some minutes ago now. Nancy blinks, before she makes a soft gasping sound, and straightens up.

“That’s right! Beverley arrived a little while ago, she was asking for you!” she informs you, waving her hand in the vague direction of the stairs and the party quickly coming to life on the first floor.

“I’m coming now!” you tell her, giving your hair one last flip before you move for your door, closing it behind you and quickly following Nancy as she all but skips. 

The ‘little’ get together had officially started a little while ago, but you’d had a study group that had run long, meaning you were now fashionably late to your own houseparty, if there were even such a thing.

Almost immediately once you crest the lower steps, you feel yourself shift into focus, totally in your element now, a cool, easy smile finding a place on your features. It isn’t difficult for you to move through the light throngs of people, despite your arrival not going unnoticed by those around you, but instead of excusing yourself meekly past distracted conversationalists, you’re liked enough that partygoers both consciously and subconsciously make way for you, plenty of familiar faces greeting you warmly in passing as you go.

You aren't surprised to find the kitchen milling with guests too, though the music is a little quieter here, so you figure it will remain more sparsely populated until later in the night, when everyone is comfortably tipsy.

“Kimberley!” A female voice calls out, perhaps a little too loudly, but you’d come to expect as much from anyone deeply involved in theatre.

“Beverly!” you match her energy, volume and all, knowing that she was likely already feeling a little out of place among the other guests, who were all mostly part of the College’s various sports teams and who you suspect weren’t even aware there even was a theatre program.

You can’t stop yourself from grinning ecstatically, overjoyed to see your friend for the first time since classes had commenced for the year. However, you feel more than you see the redhead that collides with you, her much shorter frame crashing into yours with a comforting force, and thanks to your non incosiderable height, as well as your many years playing volleyball, you hardly even budge from the impact, even in your chunky platform heels. You quickly hug Beverley in return, but far sooner than you’d like, she’s pulling back and launching into what sounds like a planned monologue.

“Okay! So, you know how ages ago I said I was going to set you up with one of Jake’s housemates from the baseball house?” Beverly starts, already waving her hands expressively, her expression bright and excited. You search your mind, but honestly, you aren’t sure if the conversation sounds familiar or not. You’d had a lot of people say similar things to you throughout your college career so far. Most of the time they were totally off-base matches, but you were always happy to experience new things, new people.

Beverley doesn’t wait for your reply though, clapping her hands and rubbing them together.

“Well, of course the team was invited tonight, meaning I can finally introduce you!” she exclaims, looking wildly over her shoulder, as though the person in question was supposed to be just behind her. When she sees an empty kitchen, she frowns and purses her lips. The glimmer of annoyance is wiped from her face by the time she’s looking back at you, and she huffs good-naturedly.

“I told him to wait for me…” she links your arms as she speaks, and you happily let her lead you to the kitchen door, where a light bubble of conversation floats through from outside. You have to let out a laugh at her sheer excitement, which appears genuine, though not in her usual manner. 

The usual manner meaning that every so often when the two of you found yourselves at the same club or bar, whenever she or her friend’s were being bothered, the pretty redhead would giddily inform you that she had someone she wanted you to meet, then standing back and watching gleefully as you casually sapped up the creep’s attention, only to bluntly shoot him down and send him off. 

You don’t get the feeling this is one of those times, but from what you knew of the baseball team, you very well may have to do some shooing on your own behalf tonight.

Outside on the tiny back-deck, a small group of people had gathered and right away your brain sparks with familiarity, though you have very little time to consider this before Beverley is releasing your arm and stepping forward. She smiles brightly as she sweeps between you and a man who turns around as if on cue.

“Finn, this is Kimberley Wynn! Kimberley, this is Finn! I am almost certain that the two of you will get along famously,” Beverely announces with a flourish and a wink. You and Finn both blink startled at one another for several moments, before mutual recognition quickly sets in. Your lips slowly pull into a wide grin, and you don’t bother hiding the fact that you’re now looking him over with no subtly, just as he’d done to you earlier in the park. 

“I’m not about to get clobbered again, am I?” you begin flirtily, glad that the man, Finn, recognises you as well, though unlike you, he seems to avoid taking the opportunity to check you out again, to his loss. Instead, he smiles big, almost showmanly, and takes up a slight lean on the railing behind him.

“If it’s any consolation, your hair looks great,” Finn replies cooly, and it’s almost as though you’d never parted ways at all. You flick your hair over your shoulder, seeing how his eyes follow the movement before they’re locked back on yours and you already know you’ve got this man hook, line and sinker.

“Luckily for you,” you sniff, though your smile undercuts any real resentment. Finn seems to grin a little wider then, more genuinely than the showman smile. You think the way his eyes crinkle in the corners is sweet, and that he should smile that way all the time.

“Wait, you two already know each other?!” Beverley cuts in, suddenly reminding you that she was in fact still standing there, watching and listening. “How?!” the redhead demands, not going so far as to stomp a foot, but she does cross her arms in a huff as she looks between the two of you in betrayed disbelief, though you note most of her ire seems directed at Finn.

The blonde swings his gaze back to the shorter woman, seemingly tickled by her apparent annoyance, yet his teasing expression is full to the brim with endeared fondness. You get the impression that this was the natural state of their friendship, and that Finn is about to say something inflammatory just to get a bigger rise, which might be a little funny, but you cut in before he can speak, relieving Beverly of her confusion.

“All Star over here threw a baseball at my head this afternoon,” you say pointedly, making sure he doesn’t mistake your happiness to see him for forgiveness. Finn holds his hands up then, and jerks a thumb in the direction of a man in the larger group of party goers on the porch.

“Roper threw a baseball at your head this afternoon,” he corrects you, as though that should absolve you of your attitude.

“Oh, that’s right! You just failed to catch it!” you tease, watching as he winces dramatically and grasps at his chest.

“You wound me sweetheart!” he exclaims ruefully, and despite the vaguely amicable antagonism, you can see now why he and Beverly are friends.

“Then we’re even.” You say. You already agree with the redhead’s earlier assessment; the two of you were going to get along famously.

Finn shrugs in a manner that reads more as relenting than indifference, and at least some of his overly performative act comes away. Beverley scoffs a laugh, rolling her eyes heavily as she reaches out to shove Finn in the arm. He sways, you think for her benefit, which makes you smile.

“Only you could throw a baseball that hits the one girl on campus who’d actually put up with you…” she snorts, seemingly assuming his chances with you were now dashed. Finn raises a finger in protest.

“As we just discussed, I only failed to catch the ball that hit the one girl on campus who may or may not be willing to put up with me. I’d like that to go on record.” He smiles at her simperingly. Beverley regards him with a withering look for several seconds, before choosing to ignore him entirely, turning to you.

“Have fun.” she says, sounding much more like her usual manner, though before you can tell her it’s alright, she’s already spun away, and when you find her again, she’s tucking herself under the arm of her boyfriend, Jake.

You shake your head, and look back at Finn, finding his gaze already locked on you. He pushes away from the railing then, and steps toward you.

“You know what this is?” he asks you, once more sounding like an actor reading lines, and gesturing between you. “Fate.” he says, lowering his voice somewhat like it was a secret just for the two of you.

You cock your head at his odd little act, though you aren’t entirely un-charmed by it. It was rather different to when you’d met this afternoon, despite his blatant flirting then, now it was as if you were speaking with a completely different person. A stage magician, perhaps.

“So, why don’t we go get a drink in your hand, and then you can tell me which day works for our upcoming date.” Finn gives a slight flourish, and while his whole demeanour is still clearly put on, there is an endearing element to his theatrics, a silliness that you might find more charming if it didn’t feel so much like he was performing for you.

He offers you his arm graciously, which you can imagine combined with his hyped up charm, would have plenty of women already giggling into their sleeves, which you don’t do, but you do place your other hand over his warm skin as well, and allow him to lead you back into the kitchen.

“So what’ll it be? Beer? Fruity punch? Fruity punch and beer?” he wiggles his eyebrows at you, and even though he’s still playing a role of some kind, it’s not hard for you to see through it.

“Fruity punch,” you say decisively. “Can’t stand the taste of beer.” You tell him honestly, watching as he goes about procuring you a glass of the punch you yourself had made, and appreciating the effort he puts in to make sure you have at least two cherries, though, you don’t think he means it to be suggestive, despite your own thoughts going straight to the gutter over the matter.

“So, what you’re saying is; I should switch to the punch if I want to test this theory about you being the one girl on campus who’ll put up with me later?” he asks in amusement, at last handing you your drink, his eyes sparkling. You accept the drink and give a noncommittal shrug as you take a small sip. 

“Oh, that’s not necessary, but I’ll certainly appreciate it later.” You really feel no need to go along with his act, not seeing any reason to play coy about your intentions, not in the way he seemed to feel was par for the course at least. You watch as Finn takes a moment to actually process your words, a brief mix of surprise and curiosity passing over his features, but it’s quickly covered up by a much more ‘cool’ looking mask.

You have to crack a smile at his sheer determination to convince you to have sex with him, the poor man somehow didn’t realise he was preaching to the choir.

“You really do look fantastic, by the way,” Finn says after a few moments of awkward quiet pass. You push aside your amusement, and grin happily at him, smoothing your hand over the material fondly.

“Thanks! I feel like one of ‘Charlie’s Angels’,” you gush a little, briefly feeling silly for bringing up the comparison, however, this time Finn’s smile makes the corners of his eyes crinkle in that way you liked, making his whole face seem softer and more natural, pouring with warmth.

“Trust me, Farrah’s got nothing on you right now,” he tells you sweetly, continuing to fondly watch you preen, not just at the compliment, but because you think this might be the first time all evening he isn’t speaking from some kind of script.

The moment passes quickly, though, and as you duck your head to accept his praise, you see his face momentarily scrunching up in a wince, like he was scolding himself for saying something so saccharine. You consider telling him that you found the sweetness endlessly more endearing than any of the other lines so far, but you hold your tongue. You had a small feeling that his pretence was really more about him, than about you, at least to a degree.

Finn is about halfway through earnestly telling you about his apparently ‘average’ sized cock when you at last run out of patience. The gimmick itself was entertaining enough, definitely an original approach to picking up women, and you’d even played along to start with, but you can’t help wondering why you’re standing around talking about his cock when you could be doing other things with it instead.

While he’s still talking, you reach into your pocket and dig around for a moment, before you find what you’re after. Finn trails off when you turn and lay the coin face-side up on his forearm. He blinks at it in confusion, for a few seconds, before looking questioningly up at you.

“Penny for your thoughts?” you ask before he can speak again, and force yourself not to pump your fist triumphantly when his confusion is quickly replaced with affection. Sure, you knew he wanted to have sex with you already, but now he thought you were cute, too.

“Alright,” he answers simply, fully angling his body toward yours, leaning in closer to you at the same time.

“So, this whole ‘average sized cock’ thing, does it actually work? I mean, has it worked when you’ve used it before?” you tip your head up at him, genuinely curious, but you don’t miss the way Finn’s features fall blank for a second after you speak, his smile fading, replaced with mild discomfort. He seems to shift back from you slightly, regarding you once more before he replies.

“I guess this is the time it doesn’t.” He all but mutters, his frown deepening as he looks away from you again, clearing his throat this time and straightening up, obviously embarrassed. He crosses his arms over his chest and looks back at you evenly.

“Could’ve stopped me earlier,” he says a little stiffly, though seemingly coming to terms with whatever direction he now thought this conversation was taking. You can’t help yourself then, his sulking making you laugh, fully and joyfully, but before he can sulk further, you lay your hand gently on his arm, over the penny, and give him a light squeeze. You shake your head as your laughter dies down, and fix him with a warm expression

“I never said it wasn’t working– in a manner of speaking,” You softly tell him, watching as he blinks down at you. You hurry to explain. “I mean don’t get me wrong, it wasn’t working, but only because it’s totally unbelievable.”

Finn at last relaxes somewhat, though his slight frown remains as he considers your complaint.

“What’s so unbelievable about it?” he demands, in a way that tells you this pick-up tactic was one he was proud of, though clear playfulness had returned to his voice.

Confident that you were now talking, actually talking to Finn as he was, and not as he thought would get him laid, you feel energised to engage with the subject matter more seriously. You scoff and roll your eyes at his indignation.

“Firstly,” you start, shifting to lean on your hip, bringing you closer once again. “No guy is ever going to accept, let alone admit that he has an average sized-cock, and he’s definitely not going to admit it to a woman he wants to fuck.” You say matter-of-factly, though you didn’t have anything more than your not-insubstantial intimate experiences with men to go off of as proof.

“Guys who really are average, don’t think that they are, and they probably never will because no woman is going to bring up the fact that his seven inch cock looks suspiciously closer to five.” you wave your hands a little, not realising before now that you really had any firm opinions on this subject.

You see the cogs in Finn’s brain turning as he regards your words with something that resembles amused but genuine interest. You figure he hadn’t expected you to really have a point, which to be fair, you hadn’t expected either. You do plan to let him respond, but you suddenly remember something else you’d been thinking about earlier, when he’d first brought up the concept.

“–And! In my experience, guys who do have big cocks, they don’t really say anything, or they mislead you entirely, so that they can get off on hearing you telling him how big he is.”

That earns a hearty laugh from Finn, who shrugs a shoulder in admittance at that point at the very least. He’d returned at last to watching you fondly, and you think once more that Beverley had been spot on in introducing the two of you. You’re pretty sure Finn is the only man who would so happily, or nonchalantly debate with you about the size of other men’s cocks, just as you’re sure that you’re the only woman on campus who has ever challenged him on it.

Finn hums in thought. “So, you believe men will only ever overcompensate or undercompensate?” he asks, but it's more of a statement. He watches you intently as he tips his chin, and you nod.

“Exactly.”

A moment passes between the two of you, before Finn leans forward, right into your space, wearing a pleased smirk.

“In that case honey,” he starts, voice sounding a little deeper now, huskier somehow. “What’s the verdict then?” he stares at you unwaveringly, challenging you. You frown.

“The verdict on what?” you ask, though at this point you couldn’t muster much genuine interest, not when all this verbal foreplay was slowing down the process of getting him in your bedroom for some actual foreplay.

Finn’s smirk grows then, seemingly glad you’d asked. You watch as his eyes dip briefly down to your chest, where his height and closeness grant him a very good view of your tits. He meets your gaze again before he speaks.

“Do you think I’m overcompensating, or undercompensating?”

You blink and stare at him as you process, not even bothering to hide your captivation, but it lasts for mere seconds before your lips are curling into a coy smile to match his own. You copy his move then, dropping your eyes to take in the front of his jeans, but you don’t look back up again as he had. Instead, you reach out and begin tracing his belt buckle. Finn inhales sharply, clearly taken off guard by your forwardness, which was clearly working for him.

You’re momentarily distracted from his belt as you catch sight of the rather sizable bulge forming at the front of his pants, giving you a pretty good idea of what the verdict should be. You lick your lips without really thinking, but take full advantage of the way Finn’s eyes follow the movement, tracing the path over your now wet mouth as he awaits your answer. You lean in, closing the miniscule distance between you at last, and give his belt a teasing little tug toward you.

“Y’know, I haven’t a clue,” you lie nonchalantly, your smile only growing when you use his belt to pull yourself in and press right up against his front. “But I’d love to find out.”

[admrlthundrbolt]

Emperor's New Clothes (Doc Ock x Chubby Reader)

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

Dr. Otto Octavius had been called a mad man long before he fused himself with the DNA of a Cephalopod. But to think that they would lock him away and attempt to study him. It was an atrocity, although the new scientist could be just the soft escape he could have only hoped for.

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

Hey guys, I'm back at it again. I got reminded of how much I like Cephalopods while watching the new Auqamam recently. So who better to turn into a ottoman than Doc Ock himself.

Anyways I hope you enjoy.

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

It had taken a long time to perfect his hypothesis, but in the end it was well worth it. To become one with the majestic Cephalopod. It was truly a dream, that the government soon turned into a nightmare.

The cell they stuffed him in could hardly be considered humane. On top of the limited water they supplied him with. They should be counting their days as closely as he was. As he chipped away at the cold surface, marking more days than he'd like to think of. He seethe at the thought of revenge and how sweet it would be.

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

Cringing as you sipped the burnt break room coffee, you sighed. It was one thing to deal with crappy coffee, but it was a whole other ordeal to be assigned to a dangerous criminal. A man who had experimented on himself. Then made a weapon to turn others into the same being. That was someone you honesty wanted to avoid.

But you were black listed to the worst jobs. This was one thing on the list of many horrible things the company had put you through. All because of an early career mistake. Whoever said let bygones be bygones had never worked for OSCORP.

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

Eyes narrowing as he heard the sound of steps coming towards his cell. He slunk into a dark corner and prepared for the next session of prodding.

As you entered the room he was stunned for a moment. You weren't like the usual type lackey they sent to bother him. No, you were much softer. Even with the frown that had settled on your face. He couldn't help finding you enchanting.

This was the rare instance that he didn't question your lack of uniform. He had always found it odd that the people he had dealt with, thus far, didn't have any identifying information. But now as he observed how your clothing fit your body. He preferred the way his eyes could freely roam over you.

The feeling of eyes burning into you was unnerving. You had read the report for your new assignment. A scientist gone mad after splicing himself with the DNA of an Octopus. It was truly a pity, from his earlier research the man was a genius.

His fall from grace was also one of the many nails in the coffin of the former CEO of OSCORP's career. Norman Osborn was a bit to brazen of a figure head for the board to allow him to stay. If only you had known just what kind of company this would turn out to be, before signing the contract that is.

Facing the cell, your heart rate picked up. There was no one in sight. Although as you checked your tablet, you could see there was no sign of an escape. So you decided to try the diplomatic approach. “Hello Dr. Octavius. Would you like to join me for your biometrics this evening?” It did the trick, the man himself slipped out of the shadows. As he did you couldn't help but admire his commanding frame. His barrel chest and feathered hair were quite fetching. Paired with the strength his torso and tentacled bottom displayed, it was no wonder they thought to keep him locked up.

He gave you a smirk at the unusual greeting. Placing his hands against the separation between you. He took in your soft facial features. “Well you're certainly new. What did you have to do to get stuck with me?” He had meant it in jest. Though when a sour look passed over your expression, he realized he had hit a nerve.

“Here to do what I was assigned is all." Your tone had become more terse and professional.

It made him annoyed with himself. He had already made a bad first impression and you hadn't even began. So he stayed silent and followed your instructions.

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

Half stomping as you made your way into your home, you huffed. It wasn't enough to be assigned to a mad scientist. But to have him call you out on your first day with him. It made you want to rip your hair out.

Making your way into the kitchen, you made a soothing mug of warm tea. As you went to leave the room, you doubled back and threw a shot of whiskey in it. You rationalize that it was to calm your mind. Though it was really so you could focus on the burn.

It didn't seem to ward off thoughts of the doctor himself however. His large body, towering over you. Not in an overwhelming way. No, more of a show of strength. It was enough to send an unexpected shiver down your spin.

When his current condition was explained to you, you were under the expression that he would be frightening. But as you think back on his imposing image. You can't help the thought of what he could do with the body he possessed now. It would surely be impressive in battle…and other instances.

Shaking the thought from your mind. You decided a warm shower would be a good way to wash the day from your body. Still it seem the good doctor never quite left your imagination for the night.

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

The next time you came to his cell, he made an effort to make pleasent conversation. “You look lovely today, Mrs….:

Hiding your face behind a clipboard. It was one thing to fantasize about the criminal you were assigned to. Yet another to hear such things this early in the day from the man himself. “Thank you Doctor. Actually it's Miss (L/N).”

Leaning against the cell, he smirked. It was a wonderful thing to know that you weren't attached, by marriage at least. “Does that mean that I have to guess for a first name then?”

Glancing up at him, it was your turn to smile. “Maybe if your a good boy I'll tell you later.” The satisfaction you got from the surprise on his face was more than you would admit.

Taking a bit to gather his thoughts, while also filing away that moment for later. He chuckled and gripped the seperater a bit tighter. Just another reason to hate this cage he was forced in. But it didn't hurt to have such tempting company.

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

He was growing concerned. You hadn't showed up to his cell today. You usually came just after breakfast. Yet here it was already lunch time and there was no sign of you.

As the attendant brought the tray to a slit in the cell, he said. “Where is Miss (L/N)?” He did know your first name now, after behaving enough as you put it. But letting this lacky know that wouldn't be a good idea.

They shrugged, trying to hide how unnerved he made them. “How should I know.” It only took a glance at the glowering Cecaelia for him to rethink that answer. “Look, last I heard one of the higher-ups called her to his office. That's it, I swear.” Then they scuttled away as quick as their legs would take them.

Leaving Otto with a sour feeling in his stomach.

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

Frustration coursed through your veins. It was one thing to give you the shit jobs. But to accuse you of not even doing them properly. That was just adding insult to injury.

Opening the door to his containment area, you tried to real in your emotions. Until you came to the realization that he was the only person you felt comfortable with talking about this.

Hearing the door open, he became alert. Seeing it was you, his shoulder finally relaxed. Though as you faced him, he was taken aback by your expression. Anger, fatigue, frustration, relief; they were a mixture that made him unsure what to say. Thankfully you started the conversation.

“They are such assholes.” You didn't even pick up the clipboard. Just slumped against the wall separating the two of you. You make one mistake as a new employee and they hold it over your head for the rest of your career.” With a huff, you leaned your head back and gazed up at him. “Then I meet you, the best thing that ever came out of working for this place.” A soft smile slid onto your full face.

The adoration that was in that smile made his heart swell. Placing a hand against the wall, near you, he said. “That is a wonderful thing to hear darling.” He cherished the flush that colored your plush cheeks. But became confused as you frowned.

Looking away, you spoke in a faint whispered. Almost as if the next thing you were going to say was painful. “They say we've grown to close. They're going to reassign me by the end of the week.” You were surprised by the look of rage that took over his expression.

His tentacles lashed out at the wall between them. Though you weren't scared, even as a hairline crack appeared in one corner. You only sat there and allowed him to gather himself. “This is unacceptable, I won't stand for it.”

Shaking your head, a hollow laugh left your throat. “I don't have a choice. The moment I signed a contract with OSCORP, was the day I signed my life over to them.”

Eyes widening, he came to a realization. That was why they had never worn uniforms around him. He had visited OSCORP many times in the past. That was before they pushed his friend Norman Osborn out of his position as CEO. It all made sense now.

Slithering a tentacle through the tray slot, he wrapped it around your warm hand. “I will take care of this.”

Nodding, you hoped against hope. Enjoying what little time you may have left with him.

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

Pacing in front of the door leading to his cell, your shoulders sagged. This was the last day you would spend with him. That you were allowed to at least. You would risk your job to see him again.

Stepping through the entrance, you tried to put on a brave face. Only to stop in your tracks as the door shut behind you. He was nowhere in sight. Panic set in, making your heart hammer in your chest. Had they taken him somewhere, were they hurting him.

Calling out his name, dread grew in the pit of your stomach. Rushing over to the release button, you slammed your palm against it. There had to be a sign of where he had to be. Scrambling into the cell and you searched frantically.

Only to stop as a chuckle rang out from thin air. An unoccupied corner of the room shimmered and revealed Otto. He had a smug look on his face as you brought your hands to your chest. “I didn't know you cared so much.”

Darting to him you smashed your fist into him. It wasn't enough to hurt him, but it help get your frustration out. It was probably the only thing keeping you from crying. “How could you even think that this would be funny.” Glaring up at him, you felt your anger melt away. This could be your last moments with the man you had grown feelings for. Before you could second guess yourself, you seal your lips against his. He took you into his embrace immediately. It was even better than you imagined.

Heavy breathe mingling, he gazed longingly at your soft flush face. Suddenly he took you into his arms, cradling you. He loved the feeling of your plush body upon him. Finding that you fit against him like a puzzle piece. His smile took on a more sinister quality. “Why don't we take this to a more comfortable location.”

Feeling him pull you closer, you settled fully in his grasp. If they thought you a bad employee, why not prove them right. Kissing him once again, you pulled back with a smirk. “Let's get out of here.”

Slipping away into the shadows, you couldn't help but revel in the chaos that followed in your wake.

[asgardian--angels]

I finished my rewatch of Kim Possible

A++, excellent finale, wrapped all plotlines up nicely in a way that’s sadly become rare in modern tv. Definitely worth rewatching if you remember this show from your childhood, and most certainly worth a watch if you’ve never seen it before. Holds its own as a comedy action/adventure show in its own right outside of a ‘kids’ genre (and it’s for teens anyway, so it’s not juvenile). 

I can’t tell you how overjoyed I am to have gotten to re-experience these characters that were so formative to who I am today and moreover the types of shows and characters I like as an adult. I really can trace a lot of the tropes and villains I enjoy back to Dr. Drakken and Shego, and I actually have a new layer of appreciation watching as an adult for a lot of the workplace humor and wit they used. 

Yes, Dr. Drakken was my OG poor little meow meow, long long before that was a thing. That is the saddest most pathetic little blue man I have ever seen. Boy did they put him in situations, and I treasured every second of it. And seeing him actually save the world in the end was so rewarding. Loved watching Shego’s ups and downs, occasional forays into heroism, and recognition that she’s the only competent one in the room. Monkey Fist was a villain I don’t think I appreciated enough years ago but I adored him this time, and it gave me the chance to yell academia jokes at the tv - plus the DNAmy romance plotline had me in absolute stitches. Not to mention of course, how much this all took me back to how it felt to be in high school, for better or for worse, and the momentous feeling of graduation and starting the next chapter of my life. 

It’s sad that I really get into some of these niche or outdated shows/movies/books that don’t really have a fandom (or if they do, do I really want to see it? I want to enjoy this with other people but I fear to actually see what other people think of the characters or what they’ve done with them), but regardless, I think I’ve done right by past me. I think it’s important to look back on the things that made you who you are - those favorite books, movies, music - and revisit them. There’s no need to leave them behind because you think you’ve outgrown them or that it was ‘cringe’ or whatever reason. I’ve gone back to a few bands from high school recently and you know what? They’re still bangers. I had good taste.

This show was quality, and I think there will always be people for whom Kim Possible was formative. I hope new generations will find this show. Every time I’m out somewhere and hear a Kim Possible ringtone, I know I’ve found someone like me who appreciates their inner child (and inner teen). And maybe has a soft spot for mad scientists :)

[luffyvace]

hiii can i request romantic hairo x male reader hcs about how they celebrate their birthdays with each other?

:3

Yes you may <3

Hairo Hairo Ba Bairo banana fana fa Fairo me mi mo Mairo HARIOO

if ykyk 😭

your big day

He spends a lot of time planning everything out but he doesn’t stress over it. He’s preparing months in advance because he’s just responsible like that and wants to make sure he’ll have enough time to reroute in case something goes wrong. He works out the details himself but asks his classmates/friends and parents for advice/ideas.

he invites pretty much anyone he knows you don’t have beef with (😜) and more. Anyone willing to come really, he thinks it’s sweet they’re sharing they’re support (which it is :3 💕)

his parents are 100% there and luckily for him he has the ‘cool’ parents that no one thinks is cringe. 😭💓 In fact they helped pay for a lot of things along with your parents and they entrusted Hairo to plan a lot of things out. He’s a trustworthy guy and you might’ve told him what you want already in the past so why not? 🤷‍♀️

what he does for your big day truly depends on what type of person you are and I say that in like every hcs ever but it’s true. Different peeps want different things!

anywho 😚

your gift possibilities also range depending on what what you like. An artist? Art supplies! Like to skateboard? He has one custom made! Are ya a foodie? Get dressed your heading to a buffet!

An out or inside event relies on what you prefer! An introvert? Likely inside! (If your an introvert who’s mentioned wanting to step outside your comfort zone, it’ll be a peaceful place outdoors!) oh your an ambivert? An indoor party! How about an extrovert?? Let’s turn up at the water park y’all!! 🤪🤪

Or maybe if you wanna keep it in one of your houses?- your house or his? Whichever one makes you more comfy <3

Actually now that I think about it a party bus would be another fun thing to do for introvert/ambivert OR extrovert!

his big day

you probably plan it with your friends

And yes you invite the sports clubs (yes all sports clubs 😭)

it’s definitely outside doing some sort of exercise(or in da gym ;3). Whether that’s fun for you or not depends on if you like exercise or not. And if it’s the type where your running around or purely a hardcore workout 🏋️‍♂️

The expenses wasn’t all that costly because of this, you could literally just all go to the gym and hype him up and it would bring tears to his eyes. Your support means so much to him, he could work out the entire day nonstop as long as he continuously hears the chants of encouragement from his loved ones 💝

he doesn’t expect gifts so when you surprise him with the heaviest weights you can find to help motivate him (😭🤷‍♀️💗), he literally sheds tears of happiness. Don’t get me wrong- people do gift him—he just didn’t expect anything because he’s not a materialistic guy!

your all tired but very happy at the end, whether it’s because your throats are sore from encouraging or your legs are tired from running. Either way it was a fun and eventful day, and I will say, Hairo certainly enjoyed it ♡

Hope y’all don’t mind this longer style of writing. I’m trying to give more hcs if that makes sense. I’ll probably teeter back and forth depending on how silly or serious the hcs are or just how much I feel like writing in general but idk.

🍎🍊🍒

(I like fruit)

[suffersinfandom]

Okay, so I usually try to stay out of discourse and drama and all of that because I'm here to have a nice time, but I saw a post in the OFMD tag after the whole Blackbonnet/Stucky poll thing that I really need to type about. It's just... so bad. Like, I totally get disliking things (I dislike things too!), and I understand that OFMD isn't everyone's thing, but wow. WOW. Um.

While the first part's annoying (point to the tumblr fandom that has absolutely no one in it with a victim complex, please), what I really take issue with is the last bit -- the assertion that OFMD's cast diversity is there to be "inclusive" and "progressive" when the narrative isn't. That's just not true? One of the reasons for OFMD's popularity IS its inclusiveness! People who have never seen themselves represented in a show finally *see themselves* in some of these characters, and I think that's lovely. And the show has a wonderfully diverse crew behind the scenes and in the writing room as well!

As for "the narrative being the opposite"... all I can do is assume that OP never bothered watching OFMD. It's the most genuinely, earnestly inclusive and progressive piece of media I've ever consumed.

The acting in OFMD isn't stylistically different from any other show I've watched. The situations and lines are often comedic, Stede and Ed are definitely prone to dramatics, and plenty of the characters are pathetic (affectionate), but this is such a weird critique. Or maybe I just haven't picked anything up from a lifetime of watching media and being a massive dorkass theater nerd? Idk. Maybe they just think the show itself is cringe (I certainly don't think it is, but that's something I've seen plenty of folks who dislike it say) and that colors their opinion on the acting?

Also: where's the slavery apologism? As many other people have said, there's definitely room for good faith criticism of OFMD: its tendency to gloss over the existence of slavery, the rom-comification of real, historic slaveowners, etc, but there's no apologia in the text of the show. (Correct me if I'm wrong! I'm very white and will defer to others here.)

I'm gonna need some sources. I've seen the various accusations, but never evidence or anything that couldn't potentially be explained with context. (I don't actually take much issue with this point -- it's not a crime to think someone's annoying -- I just don't understand the constant vilification of Taika.)

"REAL gay piracy," lol. I can't say much about Black Sails since I haven't watched it (tbh it doesn't sound like something I'd be able to enjoy), but I haven't seen that much seriousness in the OFMD fandom. Do I have all of the annoying crewmates blocked? Do y'all feel like you have a lot to prove? I personally only became invested in this poll when I saw the death threats from Stucky folks, and my impression from my timeline is that most everyone else was in the same boat.

If you ARE taking these polls to heart, please don't! They're for fun (sometimes petty) fandom drama! Win or lose, we all love our ships and our communities and we really don't need to prove anything to anyone (I say, typing out a response to a thing that got under my skin, resolutely not touching grass).

THIS is where I had to start typing. WHAT DOES IT MEAN. How is a show with multiple canon queer couples gaybaiting? Isn't "canon gaybait" an oxymoron, or has the meaning changed? (I'm old, genuinely lmk if my millennial ass is missing something.) Again, I can only assume that OP either hasn't watched OFMD or hates fun romcoms, because the gayness of it all isn't the only thing the show has to offer. My brainworms have better taste than that.

It's some of the best gay rep I've ever seen and I would be delighted to see better! I mean it! I've been in queer circles for almost two decades and in fandom even longer; OFMD is some of the best, kindest, most loving, genuine representation I've come across in that time. I truly hope that it's just the beginning of a new era in media.

"Weak fandom output." I am *drowning* in fandom output and I love that for me! "Driest gay kiss." I'm sorry you don't like awkward middle-aged men who think they're unlovable coming together in what might very well be the first loving kiss either of them has ever had, but I think it's very sweet and moving! No fictional characters have ever owned my brain like this before! I love my silly traumatized queer pirates who can't communicate to save themselves. They're very beautiful to me.

Anyway, that's enough of that. I've released the pettiness and I'm going to go back to being annoying about seeing the lads again in just a few more days. <3

[zarvasace]

I have to let you know just how much I adore your vampire aus.

I am obsessed with your Vampire Wind series and I've only read a handful of the entries. I'm currently reading the rest of it but I had to visit all the Wind centric ones first because he's my favorite and the way you write him is literally my favorite type of badass. I desperately need Council to be updated!

However, I can be patient. And I'm certainly not complaining about the vampiric Vidow content you've been sharing. It's both very fun and very safe for asexuals everywhere (even the sex-repulsed ones such as myself). Very glad this au exists as well. Though, I will always be partial to the earliest entries of this series.

Damn, all your vampire stuff just makes me wish there was more content where vampires weren't solely used to be sexualized. I love vampires but everything I find always just grosses me out (It's not even the gorey stuff that grosses me out!) so I'm very glad you've brought me a portable breath of fresh air. Thank you very much, and I'm excited to see what you write next!

Hhhhh thank you so much!! Vampires vampires vampires

My vampire stuff is really really self-indulgent. I feel kinda cringe when I write them, but like. I think that's part of the point.

The vampire Wind stuff is honestly some of my favorite. I like him being cool with this long, angsty backstory, in the body of a child constantly underestimated. XD it's so dumb and I love it. There's some stuff I hope to get to in that story.

I have a plot in mind for the FS vampires actually! I'm just microwaving it in my head to see what it turns into. But yeah, what's up with everyone saying "bites are metaphors for sex" and then they go have sex during it anyway? That's not a metaphor. Come on.

I've enjoyed writing it all and I'm glad you've enjoyed reading it! 💜💜💜

[monokub-twice-removed]

For the writing requests, Parfait x Raspberry Cookie if it isn’t a bother….I’m starved for content of them TwT

Prompt: Either Parfait teaching Rasp how to play the guitar or Rasp being Parfait’s bodyguard during a concert

You got it, friend!

(PS after a bit I just start calling them Parfait and Raspberry because I didn’t feel like typing Cookie over and over again)

Parfait Cookie sat on the edge of her bed, mindlessly strumming on her guitar in an attempt to come up with a melody for her new song. She’s been stuck on this one for a while, she just couldn’t come up with anything for this new single! She had the worst case of musician’s block to date!

A gentle knock on her door snapped her out of her thoughts, she opened the door and was greeted by a pleasant sight. It was her girlfriend, Raspberry Cookie!

“Hey, babe, are you still struggling with that new song you’ve been talking about?” Raspberry said sweetly and invited herself in, “Yeah.” Parfait replied “I just can’t come up with anything, my mind’s a total blank!” She droned. “Well maybe you just need a break?” Raspberry suggested and sat on Parfait’s plush bed. Her scarlet eyes drifted over to the guitar sitting next to her, a thought came across her head. She chuckled lightly, her voice flowing like honey as always, “Y’know, I’ve always wanted to learn guitar! I just never had the time, maybe you can teach me sometime?”

When Parfait heard the last few words of that sentence her face lit up! Teach Raspberry how to play the guitar? That sounded like an amazing idea! “We could do that right now, I have plenty of spares!” She chirped, Raspberry was a little startled by this assertion, that was quick! “Yeah, let’s do it right now whilst I have the time!” Raspberry hummed.

Parfait went to her “guitar cove” as she called it, it was a collection of guitars she’d use if her main one ever broke or wouldn’t tune up properly. Her hand hovered over the stringed instruments, eventually she settled on a blue one that matched her girlfriend’s hair bow. She handed it to Raspberry and sat next to her with her own in hand.

“Do you have any experience with guitar?” She asked Raspberry giggled nervously in response “No, not really. But I can always give it a shot!” She exclaimed. Parfait smiled “Absolutely! Why don’t you give her a couple of test strums? See if she’s in tune?” Raspberry nodded. She began to strum on the instrument, it was certainly in tune but to be nice you could say that her guitar skills weren’t quite on par with her sword skills.

Her sharps sounded like flats and her flats sounded like sharps! How was that even possible?

Parfait gritted her teeth in response to the sound, Raspberry finally stopped, thank the Witches! “How was that?” She asked confidently, Parfait cringed, “It was… good. But it can be better!” She replied “Follow along with me, I’ll teach you everything I know!”.

Parfait started strumming on her own guitar, one hand on the neck holding specific strings down to create beautiful cords and another drifting up and down the strings effortlessly, Raspberry took note of what her love was doing and started following along.

After some rough spots the two soon began to harmonize, the sounds of the guitars blending seamlessly! And eventually they drifted off into a rather nice melody, it was almost hypnotic. It was perfect for Parfait’s new song! Before she could write everything down Raspberry said the last thing she wanted her to say!

“Oh, my! Look at the time, I seriously need to go, I’m gonna be late!” She gave Parfait a quick kiss on the cheek “Bye, hun!” She said in a hurry. Before Parfait could say anything Raspberry was already out the door! But it’s okay, fortunately it just happened so she can remember all the cords!

How did it go? A, C, F? No, that wasn’t it! Was it C, C, B? No! Curses! Parfait’s horrible short-term memory got in the way of things again!

End

Hope you enjoyed that! It was fun writing for a ship I haven’t wrote anything for, I hope this satisfies your hunger!

[dam-peace]

Hi There!! I really enjoyed the first chapter of 'Alpha Beta Omega'. I can tell I'm going like this story...even though, imagining the imagery to the SNAPS! POPS! and CRACKS! made me cringe lmao. But although I did enjoy the reading, I will say i found myself having a hard time getting fully immersed due to the quatity of reading compared to the lack of choices. Which left me wondering...

Will there be more choices in the next updates to come or will your work be more Text/Reading involved? Also, when it comes to MC's personality; is it Fully/Semi- Locked or will we have control over it? I kinda like sadistic Mc, but I did notice the personality stat and was tad bit confused because it seems his personality is already set in stone. Cruel, Sadistic and Sarcastic. Oh! and maybe even a tad bit Arrogant if you ask me😂 I wasnt sure if that was because the choice I made to 'Make Them Suffer' or because that's the personality you personally envisioned for the character, which would make sense.

Also, I hope your having a good day. Keep up the good work! Now I have to check out Vice Virtue.

Hi!

I'm glad that you're enjoying the game so far, so to answer your question. 'Alpha, Beta, Omega' will certainly have more options going forward. I'm even planning to go back and rework things a bit, However the opening mission really just serves as a kind of introduction to the MC's profession. The team, how they operate, as well as establishing the MC's main personality type.

As their main personality type will effect dialogue going forward, as well as their mindset, relationships etc. But don't worry, your main personality type chosen in Chapter 1 is not set in stone. You will have control over your MC's personality going forward, as each main personality type will be broken down into different archetypes.

I just simply wanted to establish a way for me as the writer to personalize the written content as best I could for each player. Which is where the main personality types come in, as it effects how the MC is perceived by others. As well as, their own monologue within the game.

However, I also didn't want that initial choice to be set in stone. Which is where the archetypes come in, my aim is to make my games as close to real life as I can possibly get. Whilst also making it fun, because in real life people are much more complex. Just because you're usually an outgoing person, doesn't mean that's a reflection of you as a whole.

Which is what I wanted to replicate, though mainly jotted down in my notes as the game is really still in the beginning stages. I'm new to coding, and still trying to find my footing whilst working and living with life's stresses. So please don't worry, there will be more choices going forward, and as much freedom of expression as I can possibly code for the MC.

But all that aside, this was a really good question. Thank you for your support, I hope you have a wonderful day! And do let me know what your thoughts are on 'Vice Virtue' when you get around to playing it. I love to hear people's thoughts on my work, it helps me to get better too you know 😊

[thewhiskersonkittens]

Wild

Pairing: Pete “Maverick” Mitchell x Female Reader.

Summary: You have a crush on Maverick that he finds out about. To your surprise, he likes you too! Only he needs to know you have a “wild side” to you otherwise it won’t work. ;)

Warnings: Fluff, romantic, some sexual dialogue, some curse words, a drug reference.

Word Count: 4,629.

A/N: This took me FOREVER AND A DAY to write. I think the concept was better in my head than actually typed out. 😖

Hope you enjoy! :)

It was the slightest, simplest things about a man that had an uncanny ability to turn you on. Pete "Maverick" Mitchell was his name. All day you couldn't stop staring at his shirtless and ripped torso, bronzed from the California sun.

It looked he had foolishly neglected putting on sunscreen because his shoulders and neck were starting to turn red but you couldn't help but imagine what it would be like to rub some aloe vera on him. Why he chose to wear blue jeans to play beach volleyball in was definitely another lack in judgement but you had to bite your bottom lip with desire. There was something about the way the Levis were slung low on his hips. You could see a slight "happy trail" starting below his belly button and that journeyed down out of sight but certainly not out of your mind.

Maverick and his friend Nick "Goose" Bradshaw were playing against fellow Navy aviators Tom "Iceman" Kanzansky and Ron "Slider" Kerner. You were watching alongside your friend, Jen. Jen had her eye on the frosty blonde Iceman after meeting him at the officer's club. She had initially dragged you there against your will but now you felt eternally grateful.

Slider hit the ball over the net and Maverick didn't get there in time to keep the other side from scoring. Slider let out boisterous cheer as the ball and Maverick hit the sand.

It was what happened next that had your heart racing. Recovering the ball, Maverick stood up in slow motion, or time had suddenly slowed down, you weren't really sure which. He peered over the bridge of his aviator sunglasses, shooting a brief competitive glare at his opponents before pushing his shades back up. It was one of those moments that made you question your sanity. Was it the way his tan skin glistened in the sun? Was it the way his dog tags were slung around his neck and over his back? Was it his jet black hair, the dark thick eyebrows, the shaving shadow that graced the lower half of his face? You didn't know for sure but you knew something about it turned you on something fierce. You wondered what the hell was wrong with you. Maybe you were crazy? Maybe you were ovulating? Maybe you were just being a completely normal girl with an undeniable crush?

Jen looked over and saw where all your attention was focused. She gave you a playful nudge.

"You see something you like or just browsing, Y/N?"

You rolled your eyes and returned the nudge but you were smiling.

"I don't know what you're talking about, Jen." You were never good at lying.

Your friend laughed.

"Oh, c'mon, girl. You're thirsty as hell for the dark haired Adonis over there." Jen nodded her head toward Maverick's direction.

"He's a little short for my taste but he sure is easy on the eyes." She added.

"Hey, I'm barely over five foot, myself." You said. "So, he's plenty tall to me."

Jen laughed again. "So you admit it?!"

She swung her legs around to turn and face you on the bench.

"You like Maverick!" She exclaimed a little too loud for your comfort.

You quickly glanced back at the guys and saw they were still playing the game.

Turning back, you slapped her knee.

"Jen!" You hushed. "Keep your voice down!"

Jen wouldn't be stopped.

"You like Maverick! You like Maverick!" She sing-songed. "Y/N and Maverick sitting in a tree. K-I-S-S-I-N-G..."

You shut your eyes and face palmed your forehead. You loved your best friend to death but she was a pro at making you suffer second hand embarrassment at her cringe-y ways.

"Oh my God, Jen," You said after opening your eyes. "How old are you?! Ten?!"

Ignoring the rhetorical question, Jen leaned in.

"You think about him, don't you?" She wiggled her eyebrows suggestively.

"You think about him in bed, don't you?"

Your jaw dropped but you didn't answer. You knew she knew the answer.

There was many a night you laid wide awake in bed thinking about the handsome pilot. But unbeknownst to your friend, the fantasies weren't always the dirty kind. Most of them were very sweet. You imagined Maverick taking you for a ride on his motorcycle even though the thought scared you. You imagined yourself in his arms, wondering what his embrace would feel like. It seemed kind of quaint but it was your hopeless romantic side that imagined writing him love letters while he would be on deployment. Of course, you pictured him naked and what kind of lover he would be. He was a Navy man. He'd been all around the world several times. It went without saying he would be way more experienced than you. It made you want to squeeze your thighs together just thinking about all the possible things he could show you.

As if reading your mind, Jen said:

"You touch yourself to him. Don't you? You think about all the ways..."

"Jen!" You cried. You couldn't believe her sometimes.

"What?" Jen shrugged . "You can tell me. All the time, I think about climbing that tall, blonde, hot piece of ass over there. His muscle man friend isn't half bad either." She nodded toward Iceman and Slider.

You snorted. "That's because you're like a feral cat in heat. Especially around military dudes."

No matter how much you tried to get her to drop the subject, Jen wouldn't shut up. She kept teasing you about your obvious crush on Maverick, saying the most ridiculous things that sent you both into a fit of giggles.

"You think about riding him, don't you, Y/N?" Jen joked. "You'd ride him like Sea Biscuit, wouldn't you?!"

She started to pretend to ride a horse, holding an imaginary rein with one hand and slapping her side with the other.

"Yee haw! Ride 'em, cowgirl! Giddy up!"

You reached over and smacked her knees again.

"Jen, shut up!"

You looked back and saw the boys had stopped playing. They were talking to each other but if Jen kept going on like she was, they'd definitely look over.

"Jen," You told her. "I'm warning you... Shut the fuck up, Jen...I swear to God!"

Jen stopped pretending to ride a horse and instead started doing something even more embarrassing. She started to moan, pretending to have an orgasm.

"You think about him making you come...Oh, God! You think about climaxing on his dick, don't you, Y/N?! You'll be like...Oh, God! Oh, Maverick! Oh, baby, right there! Oh, God, yes! Don't stop, Mav! Oh, fuck yeah!"

At this point, you were practically wrestling with Jen, desperately trying to clamp your hand over her mouth.

"Jen, shut up or I'll shut you up myself!"

"C'mon, Y/N, you know I'm right!" She laughed dodging your attempts to silence her. She started making those obnoxious sexual noises again.

"Oh, Mavvvv...Give it to me, baby!"

You lunge and finally get a hold of her, covering her mouth with your hand. The two of you are were in an uncontrollable laughing fit. You let her go and sat back down. Jen's face was beet red with laughter as she sat back up. Suddenly, her face dropped, her eyes widened, and she immediately shut up.

The sudden change made you wrinkle your brow in confusion. Then the horror set in as you realized someone was behind you. You turned around to see Maverick standing there, grinning at the spectacle he just witnessed. He slowly lifted up his sunglasses, resting them on top of his head.

You felt like a deer in headlights. You felt an odd sensation of your stomach doing somersaults at his dazzling smile but at the same time, your heart was beating so rapidly you swore it could be heard outside your chest.

Jen quickly pulled herself together but she couldn't help but still giggle.

"Uh..Hi, Maverick," Jen said.

You just stared. Partly at how he was even better looking up close and mostly because you felt like dying of embarrassment.

"Ladies," Maverick was speaking to the two of you, yet his eyes were directly on you.

"Don't mind me. I'm just going to grab my shirt there."

You looked down and realized his white T-shirt had been laying there on your bench the whole time. You scooted over so he could pick it up.

"Thanks," He whispered to you. He was still wore a warm smile.

His green eyes never left you as he retrieved his shirt and slipped it on over his body. You felt Jen nudge you with her foot as if to say you should talk to him but you were too speechless.

Looking for an escape, Jen called out to Iceman.

"Ice! Tom! Sorry, bestie, I gotta go. See ya!"

She launched herself off the bench and started jogging towards Iceman's direction. Both you and Maverick watched as she briefly turned around and gave you a double thumbs up while running backwards.

You Bitch! You mouthed to her while Maverick's head was turned. You gave her the middle finger. Jen cackled and took off, leaving you to deal with the awkward situation alone.

Looking back to you, Maverick chuckled.

"She's a live wire, that one, huh?"

You laughed nervously.

"Yeah, you could say that."

You expected him to walk away at any moment but to your surprise he sat down next you on the bench. He sat so close you could feel the heat of your thighs touching.

"What about you?" Maverick asked.

You were confused.

"What about me?"

He smiled. You swore every time he did, your heart experienced tremors.

"Have you got a spark in you I haven't seen yet?"

You laugh. Was he...flirting with you?! You had to be dreaming.

Instead of answering, you had your own question. It was driving you crazy.

"All right," You began. "Let's cut the crap, Pete."

You preferred to call him by his real name. You knew he didn't mind.

"How much of that..." You gestured to where you and Jen had been messing around. "Did you hear?"

"Enough." He smirked. "I heard enough."

You covered your face with your hands and groan.

"Oh my God!"

Maverick reached over and gently made you uncover your face.

"Hey, it's OK, Y/N."

"No, it's not!" You exclaimed. "It's embarrassing. That's what it is."

His sweet laugh somehow put you at ease.

"I'm sorry about my friend," You tell him.

You both watch as Iceman was now demonstrating to Jen how to spin the volleyball on a single finger but you knew she wasn't really paying attention to the lesson.

"Oh, Tom, you're sooo talented!" Her voice carried over to the bench as she touched his chest and flirtatiously tossed her hair.

Turning your attention back to Maverick, you explain.

"I love her to death but...Jen can be such a trip sometimes. To be perfectly honest."

Maverick snickered. "Yeah? Well, to be perfectly honest myself, I bet Goose would say the same thing about me!"

You both laughed.

"So, let me ask you something, Y/N." Maverick said, breaking the ice again.

"What's the wildest thing you ever done?"

The question takes you by surprise.

"Excuse me, what?"

"You heard me."

You laugh searching his face to see if he was serious. He was.

"Well, I uh," You weren't sure what to say. He was watching you anticipating your answer.

You honestly never thought about it before. You were coming up short with anything.

Maverick playfully started shaking his head, tsk-ing.

"I was afraid of this..." He starts but you quickly think of something.

"No, wait!" You said. "Once, I got into a mosh-pit at a concert!"

Maverick laughs and shakes his head more.

"Uh, OK, wait." You start rattling off everything that comes to mind. "Um...when I was a kid I stole some stick-on earrings from the drugstore! In high school, I got Saturday school for ditching class..."

It was hopeless. God, I must be the most boring person on earth. You thought. To make a long story short, you were always a very good girl. You didn't like to rock the boat very much. You liked to play it safe. Maybe that's why you were such good friends with Jen and Maverick. They were both the polar opposites of you with their wild personalities.

Maverick just kept shaking his head but you knew he wasn't laughing at you.

"I once smoked a joint with Jen and some other girls." You tell him, once last ditch effort to make yourself not sound so lame.

Maverick gave a good laugh.

He whistled low as he said:

"Wow, Y/N. That's...that's really...wow. You must have given your folks a lot of early gray hairs, huh?"

You laugh and give him a nudge.

"Sorry, flyboy. That's all I got." You regard him curiously and raise an eyebrow.

"Why do you want to know?"

Maverick gives you such a smoldering look, you feel a tingling sensation in between your legs.

He beckoned to you to lean in closer to him like he was going to tell you something secret. Excited, you scooted even closer to him that your shoulders are touching. You felt his breath hot on your ear as he whispered:

"I was going to ask you out but I just don't know if I can date a stick-in-the mud."

There is a tone to his voice. He's teasing but he's also challenging you.

"Stick-in-the-mud?!" You repeated, low-key offended. You let it marinate for a second and wondered if it was painfully true. 

Maverick shrugged.

"You want me, sweetheart? You gotta keep up with me."

You gaped at his forwardness even though it really shouldn't surprise you.

"What...What makes you think I want you?"

You asked, sheepishly, but then you remember how Maverick had just seen your silly friend practically announce it to everyone within a five mile radius.

"Jen was just messing around," You say but Maverick isn't having it.

He gives you an "Are-you-kidding-me?" look.

"Sure she was." He replied, his voice was dripping with sarcasm but those gorgeous eyes of his reflected warmth.

He casually asks you if you've ever rode on a motorcycle before. You shake your head "No" but you've always wanted to. Especially with him.

"You wanna go for a ride?" Maverick offers. "Goose had to get back to his family and I've still got some daylight to burn."

You felt those tremors in your heart again. A bundle of butterflies erupted in your stomach. He could have never known how many times you've dreamed about this very moment but now here it was.

You found yourself stuttering.

"A ride?...A motorcycle ride?!...With you?!"

Maverick flashed you that wickedly, irresistible of his. That grin, you figured, must have got him out of trouble several times and dropped a whole lot of panties from the Indian Ocean to San Diego and everywhere else in between.

He leaned in again and seductively whispered:

"I can see this is dangerous for you. But I know you're tempted to...show me your wild side."

It was conveniently timed because Jen walked over to the bench and asked you if you were OK with her leaving with Iceman.

You were speaking to Jen but had your eyes squarely on Maverick when you said:

"Yeah, sure, go ahead. I got my own ride."

You knew your best friend was going to give you the third degree later but you didn't care. You had to prove to Maverick that you did indeed have a "wild side" to you.

...

At first you were hesitant to get on the Kawasaki but you got that crazy feeling again. That feeling of the slightest thing that this man did sent your heart fluttering. Maverick mounted the bike, raised the kickstand, and started the ignition. He turned to look at you and you saw yourself reflected in his aviators. You expected him to tease you again but instead he grinned and offered you his hand. Returning the smile, you slid your hand in his and got on the bike.

Maverick instructed you to hold on to his waist and you happily oblige.

"There's a place I want to show you." Maverick said as he revved the engine.

"All right," You reply.

You didn't really care where he wanted to take you at this point as long as you got to go.

Before you knew it, you were zipping past the beach and the docks. Maverick merged onto the highway and the two of you were headed somewhere north. The sensation was nothing like you've ever experienced before. Your initial nervousness was quickly replaced by pure excitement and adrenaline. As you started to feel more comfortable, you wrapped your arms tighter around Maverick's waist and rested your head on his shoulder inhaling the mixture of fresh air and the leather from his jacket.

The ride came to an end sooner than you expected. You found yourself at a lake. The moon was like a spotlight on the water, making it glisten.

"Wow," You whisper even though there wasn't a soul around. Maverick gave you his hand to help you dismount the bike. Excited, you hurried down to the bend.

You turned around to look back at Maverick. He looked like a vision leaning against his Kawasaki. He had taken off his aviators and had draped his jacket over the seat of the motorcycle.

"I never knew this place existed!" You said.

Maverick chuckled as he started walking toward you.

"A lot of people don't and I like it that way."

He stopped in front of you and you swore the moonlight was giving his dark hair a blue-ish tint. He reached down and picked up a small pebble and made it skip across the water.

"I like to come out here sometimes." He adds. "You know, just to get away from everything. Clear my mind."

You nod, understanding. "I get that."

You both take a minute to appreciate the serenity of the lake, watching the water ripple and glisten.

"It looks so nice." You softly comment about the water. "I wish I could jump in."

Maverick turns to look at you, the sly smile spreading across his face.

"Well?" He prompted. "Jump in."

You laugh. "You're kidding! I'd get my clothes all wet..."

You trailed off when you realized exactly what he was getting at.

"Oh no!" You cried waving your index finger back and forth as Maverick starts laughing.

He reached behind his neck and pulled his shirt off in one swift motion. Even in the dark, with the moon as the only source of light, you could still see his toned body and your heart skips a few beats.

"Lieutenant Pete “Maverick” Mitchell, did you purposefully bring me out here to get me to...to....skinny dip?!"

You crossed your arms and give him a pointed look.

"And how many girls have you done this with?"

Maverick smirked.

"Sorry, babe, that's classified."

You stare as Maverick started to pull off his boots.

"C'mon, Y/N," He said. "Live a little."

He squinted at you.

"Don't tell me you've never skinny dipped before?!"

You opened your mouth to defend yourself but you knew there was no denying it. Instead you just shook your head "No" and silently thanked God it was too dark for him to see your cheeks turn red.

You looked at the water and you looked at Maverick. You remember you came out here for a reason: to prove you actually did have a “wild side” to you. Your logical side told you many things: to panic, that "you were not this kind of girl" (whatever that meant), what if you and him were caught?!

As if reading your mind, Maverick paused and said:

"If you really don't want to do it, it's OK. But I promise everything will be all right, Y/N."

You bit your bottom lip and made a decision.

"OK, I'll do it," You confirm.

Maverick smiles and his hands go to unbuckle his belt and you immediately stop him.

"Wait," You said. "Let me go first."

You tell him to turn around and shut his eyes.

"What?!" Maverick exclaims but he's more amused than annoyed.

"You heard me, flyboy! Turn around and shut your eyes. I'll jump in first. When I'm in, I'll turn around and shut my eyes and then you get in."

"You can't be serious, Y/N?" Maverick laughed. "Are you really that shy?"

You shrugged. "These are my terms, Pete. Take 'em or leave 'em."

You weren't really sure what the point of it was. Once you were in the water, you'd see each naked anyway. You just more comfortable doing it this way.

Maverick playfully groaned and sighed. "OK."

He reluctantly turned around.

You stood there for a second, briefly wondering what you've got yourself into but it was too late to worry about it now.

You slowly started with your shirt. You felt your skin get goose bumps as you lifted it over your head. You toed off your shoes and socks and slid off your shorts. You kept your eyes glued to Maverick's bare back as he stood there, patiently waiting for you to finish.

"You're not gonna bail on me and leave me stranded here half naked, are you?"

Maverick joked.

"Don't tempt me!" You laugh. You both knew there was no way you could steal his motorcycle and get back to the city on your own.

You reached around and unhooked your bra clasp. You hesitated for a second before letting it drop to the ground. You shimmied out of your underwear and before you could think too much you jumped in the lake. The water felt cool but your body adjusted quickly. You swam out just a little further but not too far.

"OK, Pete," You called to him. "I'm in! Your turn!"

Keeping your end of the deal, you turned around and shut your eyes. You try to keep your mind on the moment, nothing else. Just like with riding the motorcycle, your initial fears of skinny dipping subsided. It was like taking a bath in a really big bathtub.

You heard a splash in the water behind you and you opened your eyes.

"Pete?" You asked as you turned around expecting to see him swimming towards you. Instead you saw nothing except the Kawasaki and two piles of discarded clothes on the land.

You doggy paddled that direction calling for Maverick. He had to be in the water, you were sure of it, but he was taking his sweet time to surface and it started to worry you.

"Pete?!" You called again. "Pete?! Maverick?! This isn't funny, Pete!"

You suddenly felt all alone and exposed. You glanced all around you seeing nothing but lake and trees. Somewhere nearby, an owl hooted and shivers went up your spine. You had watched way too many slasher tapes with Jen and your imagination went crazy with all sorts of terrible things.

You felt something grab a hold of your legs and you instantly screamed, the sound echoed off the water. You kicked and struggled to get free but you found yourself being pulled underwater.

When you were released you came back up gasping while Maverick surfaced right next to you laughing.

You angrily pushed your wet hair out of your eyes and glared at him.

"Pete!" You cried. You forcefully splashed water in his ridiculously handsome face while he kept laughing. He put his hands up to defend himself from your angry splashes.

"Did you know all naval aviators do intense water survival training?" He casually mentioned.

"That wasn't funny!" You told him about the stunt he just pulled.

He had really scared you. You could feel hot tears forming in your eyes. You had a half a mind to forget the whole thing, swim back to the shore, put on your clothes, and demand he take you home right then.

Seeing how serious you were, Maverick stopped laughing and his face fell soft.

"Hey," Maverick said, gently. "I'm sorry, Y/N. That was shitty of me, I know."

You wiped at your eyes hoping he'd think it was just water and not tears.

"It's fine," You said, willing yourself to calm down. "I guess I overreacted."

Here you were trying to learn how to loosen up and the littlest prank sent you into a hissy fit. Not a good impression, you scolded yourself.

Maverick positioned himself right in front of you and extended his arms.

"No, no.." He whispered. "I shouldn't have done that. C'mere and let me make it up to you."

Maverick took you in his arms and you immediately forgot about being upset. Underneath the water you felt your legs twine together as you welcomed his embrace. He peppered your face with kisses. All over your forehead, your nose, your cheeks, your eyelids. You couldn't help but softly moan when he planted kisses up and down your neck. You threaded your fingers through his wet hair.

"I wouldn't hurt you, sweetheart. You know that, right?" Maverick cooed in between showering you with affection. "I'd never ever let anyone or anything hurt you."

Murmuring with pleasure, you let your hands trail from his hair down to the nape of his neck. You felt the chain of his of dog tags, the only thing he left on, and used it to pull him to your lips. The kisses were unlike any you'd ever experienced before. They were far from chaste but they weren't exactly lust driven either. They were intense and passionate just like Maverick was. Over and over he used his tongue expertly on yours, sending so many sparks throughout your body you thought maybe you both were going to be electrocuted.

When you parted, Maverick smiled.

"So it is true? All that stuff your friend said?"

"What friend?" You whispered, eyes fluttering open after being in a daze from his kisses.

You remembered Jen and all her teasing back from earlier and that Maverick had heard some of it. You almost had forgotten.

"You know, what was her name? Jess, was it?"

"Jen," You correct, smiling, thinking about how she was probably tangled up with Iceman at the moment but she'd never guess in a million years what you were doing with Maverick. She probably thought you had him drop you off at home, too shy to make a move. The day had been such a whirlwind. You started out sitting on a bench with your best friend watching hot Navy guys play volleyball and now here you were, skinny dipping, with the one you'd been dreaming about.

He continued to hold you in his arms as the two of you just floated in the water, neither one of you wanting to let go first.

"Some of it is true," You confessed. "But there's a lot of other things she doesn't know. That I haven't told anyone."

You press your forehead to his and whispered:

"Not everything I think about you is dirty."

"Is that right?" Maverick chuckles, intrigued. He gently stroked the side of your face.

"Would you be willing to tell me about those things?"

"Yes," You said, kissing him. "How far is it from here back to the city?"

You were making an unspoken suggestion and he knew it.

Maverick pondered it for a second.

"Hmmm...about twenty minutes," He figures. "But I betcha right now I could make it in ten!"

You both started laughing together.

It was going to take more than just one night to show him all of your "wild side" and he could spend the rest of his life driving you wild in all of the littlest ways.

[marvelsuperfangirl]

Teddy Bear Epilogue

Biker Gang!Bucky x Reader

A/N : Here is part two of “Teddy bear” I don’t really know if I’m 100% happy with it but I wanted to carry on this story and I kind of considered this as part ½ to transition to what will follow even if I don’t know yet where I’m going. Am I the only one to let the inspiration come and go and see where it will lead me?

Nonethless, I hope you’ll enjoy this 😊

The next morning, Y/N realized how much of a hardship opening her eyes was. At first, the light welcoming her barely awake form made her close them back instantly, the luminosity causing the throbbing pain in her skull to increase even more. With a weak groan, she turned her head on to the other side, trying to protect herself.

She gave herself the time to “recover” or at least motivate herself to open her eyes again and maybe, just maybe to get up from whatever she was laying on.

That time, instead of the light, a blurry veil was covering her sight and she blinked exaggerably blinked a few times to finally be able to decipher the area around her.

She recognized her bedroom.

But she didn’t know how she got there…

The last pieces of memory she could regain was of her and the very menace everyone had warned her about, drinking together. Maybe a bit too much…

At one point, you ended up outside, you could still feel the cold breeze on your skin while remembering the scene. But the “how did you get home” part was still unanswered.

Anyway, while trying to piece all those little souvenirs together, the woman forcefully pulled herself out of bed, with the ultimate goal to get in the shower, without spreading herself on the floor because of how bad she was currently feeling.

The headache splintering with more strength at any movement that it deemed too quick but she finally reached the bathroom, not without a great deal of hisses.

And while sauntering over, she took off her clothes ones by one, throwing them on the floor without any care and stepped into the cabin. As she turned the faucet open, she didn’t even think how much of a questionable idea it was, before the ice cold water poured down on her, the contact earning a shriek out of her, making her head throb at the sound.

One long rant of curses later, the water had changed to a comfortable temperature and the young woman welcomed it with a long sight.

Then in the middle of her relaxing words floated at the surface of her messy mind.

“You’re a bear”

It came out just a whisper among the running water noise but the cringe it came along with was enough to break the mood. And now, it couldn’t leave your mind; you wouldn’t be able to get rid of your past behavior and even less come back to that bar and face that guy.

On that thought, Y/N’s morning was off to a bad start…

**

A few blocks away, BB, was having an early lunch or late breakfast; it certainly wasn’t a brunch because BB wasn’t the type to get brunches.

His plate has gone cold by now, but he still was pushing around the pieces of food, which he probably wouldn’t even eat.

His memories of last night were fresh, and he didn’t know why but they kept replaying again and again in his mind. Well, if he was honest, he knew why. He was wondering what was this young woman doing in this bar, with the most dangerous fellows of the neighborhood to end up calling him…a bear; teddy bear; a care bear even.

And his biggest question was why didn’t he take this opportunity to jump you right then and there when he had the occasion. Maybe, he was going soft, or was it the fact that one and only person that was foreign to his business didn’t consider him to be a complete and utter menace.

His fist unconsciously hit the surface of the table so hard, it almost sent the plate shattering on the floor made all the people in the bar jump in their seats.

His blue eyes were looking nowhere in particular but they displayed such a hateful gaze that no one would dare to interrupt the course of his thoughts.

“Of course not.” He mumbled

“What a crazy thought, I’m not silly enough to be getting soft over a girl, just because she seemed to see the other side of me through my hard shell, I’m not a rom-com, god damn it!”

The last cursed passed from mumbles to a full-on loud curse, throwing a new wave of fear over the remnants of clients.

Those nonsenses made his mind gears spin the wrong way and the only way he thought to stop it was to leave this place, too full of memories that stirred a too “girly” side of him to bear.

He let go of the fork and forgot completely about the unfinished plate, stood up and walked toward the exit of the bar.

The summer sun hit him hard and that’s how he remembered that he’d lend you his leather jacket. He closed his eyes in annoyance and looked up at the clear blue sky and wondered, just a tiny bit if she was currently thinking about him.

[freedfutura]

Hey! Coming from ur Wattpad here! And I love your work! so umm... could you do a Robin Arellano x fem Reader? So like after he fights Moose, Moose gets angry and he decides to take his anger out on the reader. So like he beats us up and when it's over, we try to avoid Robin but after he ends up finding out and he takes care of us, but let's say that Moose will have a little problem the next day. OH and can you make it so the reader and Robin are dating?

Enjoy <3

[Robin Arellano]

He Got What He Deserves

Moose Kavinsky had a horrible habit of shit talking people who were far better at fighting than him. As a result, it was fairly often he would find himself beat up. However, it’s as if his ego gets in the way of him ever learning a lesson, and he repeats the cycle. It goes as so:

1. Moose talks shit because he’s bored.

2. Moose gets his ass handed to him.

3. Moose talks shit because he’s embarrassed

4. Moose gets his ass handed to him, again.

5. Repeat.

Most often, he was smart enough to at least choose someone weaker than him- and then maybe he might stand a chance (rarely). However, his dumbass had picked a fight with Robin this morning, and everyone knows, you do not fuck with Robin Arellano.

He had been babbling some nonsense about Robin thinking he’s all that and how he’s apparently full of shit. You know what they say- you manifest the things you speak out loud, so be careful with what you say. The universe seemed adamant to get this across to Moose one way or another, and made it so Mr. Bandanna Boy himself happened to be walking up right behind him at the exact moment he was talking shit.

You practically cringed to yourself listening to what he was saying, and silently hoped for your boyfriends sake that he didn’t hear it. He really couldn’t afford to get caught up in another fight being on the verge of suspension as it is. Alas, the universe had other plans, and in mere seconds, Robin went from holding your hand to smashing his own into Moose’s face.

You knew better than to jump in and stop it. That was never the type of girlfriend you were. Robin’s business was his business, and you weren’t gonna get in the way; even if you didn’t always feel it was necessary.

Plus, you quite liked being the one he turns to when he needs patching up.

However, unlike you who stays out of Robin’s issues- letting him handle them as he pleases and only stepping in if you feel he wants or needs you to- he had a bad habit of not reciprocating that energy and making all your problems his own. He insists on handling them the way he handles his, even though you constantly fret over it and insist he just let you do your own thing. (Your own thing being turning a cheek to it, hence his insistence to handle it for you.)

This would certainly cause issues for you today.

Just as you had suspected, Robin ended up getting caught in the process of nearly pulverizing Moose’s face. He was dragged away to the office, but of course not before jogging over to give you a peck on the lips and a cheesy smile.

So, while you were walking back to class with a dazed smile- giggling to yourself about your hot headed boyfriend, Moose had cornered you.

With no where to hide and no boyfriend to protect you, all you could do was lay there and take the beating he had issues you. Not only was it embarrassingly dehumanizing, it was painful. Really really painful. He left multiple angry red spots all over your body, without a doubt destined to become bruises, split your lip, and discolored your cheekbone.

Afterwards, you literally had to lay their, shuddering and trying to catch your breath from the amount of pain you felt.

Though your brain was foggy from the beat down, you could focus on one thing and that was: what the hell are you gonna tell Robin? You needed time to figure it out. You didn’t want him to worry about you, and you definitely didn’t want him to be suspended if he wasn’t already.

So, you’ve been avoiding him all day. Because some how, some way, he wasn’t yet suspended for his previous fight with Moose. Just your luck.

You stuck to wearing your hoodie up all day, and removing the bandanna had given you to wear around your wrist. Without that very distinguishable feature, Robin was practically hopeless when it came to finding you.

Hopeless indeed.

He had just spent the majority of his day in search of you, utterly confused by your disappearance and increasingly frustrated over it.

Until now, when he sees an all too familiar stature stood across Finney at his locker.

“Just please, Finn!” You beg with a desperate expression. “You’ve gotta invite him over to study today. He cannot see me like this.”

Finney looks incredibly uncomfortable by your request, nervously avoiding eye contact with you, “I don’t know…this doesn’t seem like a good idea. Robin’s gonna find out eventually and he’s gonna be really mad if he knows I lied to him. Hell, if he finds out I helped you lie to him.”

“No he won’t! I swear. I’m gonna tell him when things have cooled off a bit, ya know?” You explain insistently, noticing the way his eyes drift behind you and widen. “What?”

Finney hurriedly shuts his locker door, “um, I should go! I’ll talk to you later, (y/n)!”

You blink in confusion, watching him scurry away down the hall, “b-but, Finn! Wait-“

“Where the hell have you been all day?”

You freeze at the familiar voice, suddenly realizing why Finney was taking off in such a hurry. With no where left to turn, you very slowly pivot around to face him.

Robin’s face is crinkled with annoyance, though that quickly disappears upon seeing your face.

“What happened to your face?!” He frantically reaches forward to pull your hoodie down before gently placing a hand on your chin and tilting your head around to exam the wounds. “Who the fuck did this to you?!”

“N-No one! I slipped-“

He gives you a disbelieving look that shuts you right up. “That’s some bullshit. Don’t try to lie to me again. We both know you suck at it. So, what really happened?”

You sheepishly chuckle, playing with the tips of your hair. “Um…will you walk me home first? I’ll tell you there.”

He squints his eyes in hesitation, boring down at you with an unmoving stare before slowly nodding. Then, he reaches behind you into the side pocket of your backpack and pulls out the bandanna he had given you to wear around, then ties it around your wrist.

“Never take it off in school,” he quietly demands before leaving his hand into yours and guiding you out of the school and towards your house.

The walk there is silent, and every time you glance at Robin he seems to be deep in thought about something, so you refrain from interrupting him. When you finally make it into your house, he drags you up the stairs and straight into your bathroom where you’re then made to sit on the edge of your counter and watch as he rummages your cabinets for supply.

“Robin, it’s really not even that bad,” you insist, trying to get him to drop the sour expression.

“Shh,” is all he responds, still focused on finding what he needs.

After gathering everything, he begins to clean each of your wounds- placing various bandages, bandaids, and pads over everything. Along with a healthy dollop of Neosporin.

You try to keep still despite feeling the urge to shake your leg with anticipation about what you plan to tell him.

“Sorry,” he apologizes, sensing your nervous behavior and assuming it’s because of his lack of delicacy when treating your wounds, “I’m not as good at this as you. This is usually the other way around.”

You shake your head, “no, no. It’s not that.”

“Then?” He raises a brow, securing your last bandage.

“I don’t want you to be mad at me,” you explain shakily.

He furrows his brows in confusion. “Mad at you? Why the hell would I be mad at you? I’m mad at the dickhead who did this shit. Speaking of- who was it?”

You swallow the lump forming in your throat, reaching out to take his cheeks in your hands and force him to look into your eyes. “Don’t do anything stupid.”

He huffs, “I’m not making any promises.”

You sigh, looking down while chuckling but keeping your hands on his cheeks. “Moose Kavinsky. Pretty sure he was just pissed and trying to get back at you through me.”

You feel him tense up, almost trembling from what you assume is anger. When you look back into his eyes, you confirm the emotion.

“I’m gonna put that motherfucker in the hospital,” he growls in pure vexation.

You nervously chuckle, “please don’t. I really would like to graduate with my boyfriend.”

“Don’t worry, I won’t get caught.”

“Robin!” You frown, letting your hands fall back onto your lap.

He smiles lightly, attempting to lighten your mood despite his seething.

“What? I’m serious! I won’t get caught!” He assures, moving himself to stand between your legs. “A little trust?”

You roll your eyes. “I trust that you’re a dumbass.”

He laughs, “a dumbass who loves you.”

You him with an entertained smile, leaning forward to kiss him softly.

He returns your kiss, nearly forgetting all about whatever he was angry about before. Of course, he doesn’t. He spends the night taking care of you and distracting you from the soreness of your body, but the next morning he’s gone without a trace- leaving a simple note to meet him where you always do before school.

You do so and walk up suspiciously, noticing new wounds on his face the closer you get.

“Hey! How’d you sleep? Miss me?” He grins teasingly, leaning forward to place a kiss on your lips.

You accept, but pull away rather quickly to get a better look at the sudden wounds on his face. “What the hell happened to your face?”

He grins, shrugging innocently. “I handled things.”

“Oh god,” you grumble out, making him laugh.

Then, you both reach out to hold hands as you walk towards the school entrance, making your way towards Finney’s locker.

Upon seeing you both, he smiles in relief- glad he didn’t have to get caught up in a lie and it all worked out.

“Hey, guys! Did you hear about Moose? Apparently someone landed him in the hospital and he’s not snitching,” Finney spills, excited to share the gossip.

You turn to Robin with wide eyes, but he looks totally relaxed.

“He got what he deserves,” he hums, turning to kiss you on the cheek.

[bffsoobin]

amortentia

↳year six potions class was never particularly exciting to you- as a Slytherin with much more interest in Transfiguration- but alas, it’s required to graduate. You thought the class couldn’t be any more of an inconvenience, but upon being paired with infamous Gryffindor Beomgyu, you find yourself proven wrong.

➤ gryffindor!beomgyu xslytherin!reader, harry potter!au, enemies to lovers, a little slow burn, fluff

Word Count: ~11k

Requested?: kinda? anon requested a Beomgyu oneshot with no specifics and I spit this out of some depraved, Harry Potter obsessed corner of my mind.

Warnings: mentions of drinking, usual e2l arguments, swearing, usual Gryffindor-Slytherin insults and tension 

A/N: I hope the anon who asked for a Beomgyu oneshot is happy with this!! I finally felt like I had enough time to write a proper hogwarts au so here it is! Also I purposely avoided using any professor names that are clearly linked with the actual Harry Potter series purely because of timeline continuity! Bonus points if you can guess who Georgiana is related to before I point it out :) ALSO this is so long and I feel so rusty so I hope it’s okay lmao

•:•.•:•.•:•:•:•:•:•:•:•☾☼☽•:•.•:•.•:•:•:•:•:•:•:••:•.•

The sound of your quill scratching against parchment filled your quiet corner of the common room, allowing you a feeling of solidarity and peace you’d been craving since you arrived back to the castle a few days ago. Of course you’d been excited to be back, sharing the meal in the Great Hall with all of your friends happily as you watched the wide-eyed first years get sorted into their houses. It was hard to believe that 6 years ago that had been you waiting to find your place within the walls of Hogwarts. 

As always, the buzz of the beginning of a new year wore on your nerves. Despite your love for your friends, their energy was- in your opinion- completely draining. You much preferred the moments of quiet serenity that the stone laden dungeon common room afforded you. The last few embers of a fire lit hours before winked at you from across the room, tempting you to raise your wand and reignite them. After a moment you decided against the movement, as you were presumably the only one awake at this hour and the light of the cedar scented candle you’d brought down with you from your suitcase provided enough light for you anyway. 

The scratch of your quill stilled as you flipped to the next page, careful not to accidentally bend the corners of the book you’d just purchased. Several detailed diagrams detailed the process of transfiguring plants to inanimate objects to animals then back to plants and you felt your heart swell with excitement. Transfiguration was hands down your favorite subject, and you’d been craving to learn this process in particular since it had been mentioned offhandedly in class last year. You scrambled to pick up your quill, happy that you’d splurged for the instantly refilling model as ink flowed flawlessly against the parchment. 

A sudden crash from the entrance of the common room popped your comfortable bubble of silence harshly as you clambered for your wand. 

“Who’s there?” You yelled, annoyance and surprise mixing to raise your voice considerably. For a moment you heard nothing as you advanced closer to the door, keeping the three wide stone steps between you and who- or what- ever was behind the door. The door shook a few times before finally flying open, revealing three very normal looking boys stumbling through the threshold. They were all hanging on one another, stumbling over their feet as they pushed into the common room. You recognized the one in the middle instantly as Choi Yeonjun, fellow Slytherin and current Head Boy of the house. He was a year older than you but you knew him well for his infectious laughter and notoriously good grades despite never studying. His cheeks were flushed and his feet unsteady, but he held a charming grin through it all. The identity of whoever was supporting him on the left was a mystery to you, but the boy supporting him from the right sent alarm bells off in your head. 

“Beomgyu?” Your voice left you before you could rein yourself in, and you would have cringed had it not been for the hatred brewing under your skin. Here he was, the one person you tried to forget existed every single summer. And he had been part of the ruckus that pulled you from your reading. He didn’t say anything as the three boys stumbled past you, dumping Yeonjun onto one of the soft black leather sofas. 

“Hello?” You felt like you were in some kind of time warp, somehow totally invisible to the three of them as they sorted themselves out; Beomgyu and the other boy straightening out their clothing and Yeonjun lolling his head back on the cushions with a content sigh. 

“Oh, hey Y/N.” Beomgyu finally drawled, sticking his hands in the front pockets of his trousers. He was still wearing his robes, layered over a sensible gray wool sweater and black uniform slacks. His striped red and gold tie hung off of his neck slightly, obviously having been loosened at some point in the night. He donned the same Head Boy pin Yeonjun did, but in the same colorway as his robes and tie. Loud, obnoxious, attention seeking red and gold.

“Hey? How about instead of “hey” you tell me why the hell you’re barging into my common room at some ungodly hour of the night! Don’t you have somewhere else to be, Head Boy?” The unidentified boy behind him froze as his eyes widened, apparently feeling the sting of your icy words much more than Beomgyu. He just lifted a lazy eyebrow, guiding his annoyingly confident gaze over your body. Fucking Gryffindors and their confidence. It was suffocating. 

“Well you see, Y/N. Yeonjun here can’t handle his fire whiskey for shit, and we were all just having a little start of the year party in the Room of Requirement. So me and my friend here,” he motioned vaguely to the cowering boy behind him- who you now noticed looked like he had just entered his fourth year- “decided to be so kind as to bring him back.” 

You said nothing for a moment; simply simmering in your hatred for him until he spoke again. 

“By the way, what are you even doing up so late? You’re not a prefect...so shouldn’t you be up in bed like the rest of your little friends? What’s so secretive that you have to be up in the middle of the night for it? Are you doing something...evil?” He leaned forward, closing the gap between the two of you and bringing his mouth level with your ear. You cringed at the closeness, clenching your hands into fists until the crescents of your nails indented your skin. His voice had lowered like he was telling a secret, as if Gryffindors even had the capacity for maintaining privacy. “Are you being naughty?” 

You huffed indignantly, finally finding the strength to shove his shoulder away harshly. The skin of your cheeks was certainly flamed, but you hoped he would chalk it up to annoyance and not the intoxicating scent of his woody cologne.  

“If you must know, I was up studying Transfiguration. I was trying to enjoy some piece and quiet until you came busting in.”

Beomgyu stepped around you and made his way for the table you’d previously been sitting at. To your delight he refrained from touching anything, but he stared at the set up for so excruciatingly long that the mystery boy awkwardly slipped out of the dungeon without a word. 

“We start classes in about 5 hours,” he suddenly remarked. His voice made you jump a bit, since you’d become used to the regained quiet. “Why the hell are you already studying? And a subject we’ve all already taken? Any other Transfiguration courses would just be electives, and with how much you care for your class standing I would have assumed you’d be learning ahead on Potions.”

“Well first of all, I’m not exactly studying. I’m just reading. I bought the book myself because I-” you stopped and heaved a sigh at the scrunch of his eyebrows. He clearly wasn’t understanding the concept of reading just for the fun of it. “I’m not studying for Potions because I despite it. Plus, how much is there to study? The book literally spells out every ingredient and procedure. There’s no thinking to be done, and hardly any magic.” Beomgyu’s eyebrows shot up into his hairline comically. 

“Hardly any magic? My god, maybe I was right to peg you as the pessimistic type. Must be hard to feel anything akin to hope down here in your-” he glanced around your common room again, eyes catching on the darkened green and black decorations, the window offering a view of the sparkling Black Lake shrouded with pine trees. “In your dungeon.” 

His use of the word bothered you greatly. Even though you knew it was geographically true and had even used it yourself; something about him coming in unannounced and uninvited to insult your home inspired fresh anger in your stomach. 

“Get out,” you spat, ignoring the way a half-dozed Yeonjun jumped at your voice. With all your might you pushed at Beomgyu’s broad shoulders, willing him out of your sight for at least a few more hours. 

“Oof, must have hit a nerve there, huh?” He continued to speak casually as you pushed him, walking backwards up the steps with an annoyingly perfect accuracy. Once he was finally stood in the threshold of the heavy door you heaved a sigh of relief as you swing it closed.

“Bye bye! Don’t ever fucking come back!”

——

You only managed about two hours of sleep after the Beomgyu drama, but luckily for you the three other sixth year girls you were rooming with had been smart enough to buy and stash away some caffeine potions. They had none of the enjoyable taste of coffee but three times the effect, and soon you felt back in top shape to head to class.

Pushing through the masses of clambering students with a practice eased, you caught up to the familiar frame of Georgiana, one of your oldest friends. She was a Ravenclaw, but you’d ridden together on your very first trip on the Hogwarts Express and stayed close friends since then. She greeted you easily, giving you an award winning smile as she pulled you by the arm of the robes to sit on one of the surprisingly empty stone benches lining the halls.

“Let me see your schedule!” She had to yell just to be heard over the mumbling of the crowd, but you heard her well enough to produce a folded piece of parchment that you carried despite having memorized it. Georgiana’s eyes flitted over it carefully, comparing it to her own schedule which laid open on her lap.

“We’ve got...Herbology 3,” she ran her finger down the parchments a few more inches, “Transfiguration of Aquatics...and NEWT prep together!” You groaned loudly, a feeling of anxiety weighing down your bones as you rubbed your fingertips into your temples.

“What’s up with you? Over me already?” She giggled, leaning back against the wall and handing you back your schedule.

“No, it’s just...if you’re the second class for Herb 3, Aquatics and NEWT prep, that means I have to pray that the second house in Potions isn’t Gryffindor.” You leaned back against the cool wall next to her, pouting in self pity until you saw the grim look on her face.

“What?” You sat up straight again as if a fire had been lit under your ass. Georgiana looked as if she was holding in a laugh and a grimace at the same time while you begged her to give up whatever information she was holding back from you. Her hand hovered over her mouth in an attempt to hide the wavering smirk running across her lips. 

“Okay, don’t freak out.” She began, placing a hand on your knee. 

“Well now I’m definitely going to since you lead with don’t freak out! Should I freak out? What about?”

“I already compared schedules with Soobin,” she said gently.

“Okay, and?” You knew of the sweet Hufflepuff, had sat next to him in a few classes and seen him hanging out with Yeonjun on occasion, but still had no idea why she was bringing him up now.

“And him and I have Potions together.” In the split second it took for the words to process you saw her flinch, clutching at the fabric of her robes over her chest in anticipation for your angry outburst.

“Of course! Of course I have to get stuck with them for Potions class, out of all the other houses. Merlin really has it out for lately you know, I didn’t sleep very much last night, had to pay Melinda 10 galleons for one of her caffeine potions-“

“I can tell,” Georgiana supplied. You grimaced at her and immediately shut your mouth, sensing your rapid talking was quickly becoming over the top.

“Georgie, if I have Potions with him-“ you didn’t even have to specify who you were speaking of before she was rolling her green eyes into her head.

“If you have Potions with Beomgyu, you just need to ignore him. He loves to push your buttons, Y/N. When will you realize that? And you push his back and you both get a good cat-and-mouse feeling that every teenager wants. Maybe if you stop entertaining it, he’ll take it easy on you. Need I remind you of the time you were actually friends with him? Didn’t swear he was the spawn of Satan after every conversation? I even remember in second year when you had a crush on him and made me-“

“Okay!” You replied curtly, gathering your books and parchment back into your arms. “I’m going now! Class starts in,” you pulled back your robe sleeve to look at a watch that clearly was not there, “10 minutes, and I like to be early!” Easily, you slipped into the throngs of students, leaving Georgiana behind with a sly grin on her face.

——

You arrived to the Potions room before any other student, forcing you to idle awkwardly in the small space between the door and the first brewing station. A few of the cauldrons bubbled idly, breaking up the silence of the room with the low hum of white noise. The arched ceilings only amplified the absence of noise- even the never ending buzz of students passing through the hallways was somehow muffled to silence inside the walls. 

“Ah!” The professor bellowed, waving at you from the opposite end of the room where he had been straightening out some piles of parchment that you could only assume were homework papers. “Hello there, you must be quite eager to start the day!” You could feel the skin of the back of your neck heating up as the rotund man approached you gleefully. 

“Oh, um, yes sir. You could say that...” you mumbled, clutching your stack of books to your chest protectively. The man smiled at you kindly but you could still feel the heavy weight of awkwardness seeping into your bones. He opened his mouth again- making another attempt at small talk to which you cringed. As much as you respected the professor on the basis of his knowledge, your ability for any small talk, especially Potions related, was extremely lacking. 

“You must’ve done quite well on your OWLS to be here, yes? Only those with the highest scores can be registered. The class can be quite challenging, but if you’ve got your affairs in order I reckon you’ll fine.” He paused, likely sensing the blankness behind your stare as you nodded politely. “Ah, all things you already know I’m sure. Are you excited to get started with the class?” 

You frowned, holding back your natural instinct for brutal honesty. How on earth could you let this gentle old man down gently? 

“Of course she’s excited! Aren’t we all?” Beomgyu was in the room now, apparently, approaching you from behind and slinging an arm around your shoulders. The loose fabric of his sleeve collided with the side of your face, blinding you for a second. You stumbled on your feet from the jostle, trying to shrug away from the warmth and overwhelming scent of his cologne. Beomgyu never was aware of his own strength as he held you steadily against his side as if he was trying to fuse your bodies together.

“Oh my! So nice to see such great friends between different houses! Back in my day, as I’m sure you know, there was so much hatred between Gryffindors and Slytherins...never would have seen a pair of friends like the two of you!” The professor seemed genuinely delighted, oblivious to the way you tried to wiggle out of Beomgyu’s hold. You offered the professor a plastic smile as more students filed in. As soon as the portly man was otherwise occupied, you stomped the heel of your sneaker into Beomgyu’s foot with all the might you could gather. 

“Merlin, ouch!” He recoiled immediately, withdrawing his arm from around your frame to clutch at the foot you’d hopefully bruised. “I’ve got Quidditch practice after lunch today! How dare you!” 

“Guess it’s a good thing you don’t need your feet for Quidditch, Choi. Serves you right for violating my personal space. Next time it’ll be worse than your fucking toes.” You hissed the words lowly, just enough that he would be able to hear them but without alerting your nearby classmates. 

“You two, there!” The professor suddenly exclaimed, making you jump out of your stupor to see he was pointed an aged finger at you and Beomgyu. “Since you were first in and seem to get along, I’ll have you be partners on Station 1.” A few confused whispers passed through the classmates behind you and your face fell at the implication. Potions partners with Beomgyu? For the whole year?

He seemed similarly stalled, not moving a single inch away from the front of the room until the professor cleared his throat pointedly. 

“Right, sir, of course,” Beomgyu nodded, rushing over to the furthest of the high-top tables; unsuccessfully trying to hide the pain of his newfound limp. With a satisfied feeling in your chest you followed closely behind, finally unloading the weight of the books in your arms onto the table. 

——

“How much worse could it get?” You groaned, laying your head in your arms at the dining table. 

“Well, you could be sick, or failing a class, or not have any friends, or have lost your books. Hell, let’s not forget what it must have been like to go to school here at the same time as Harry Potter. I mean, no final exams for a few years, but at what cost? Grandpa Ron always tells me about-” 

“Oh, good Merlin, Georgie, that’s not what I meant.” You picked your head up from the table and scanned the bustling hall. A large plate of sandwiches laid in front of you but your appetite was diminished in the presence of your stress. “I mean, how fucked is it that I have to spend every first period for the rest of the year brewing Potions alongside Choi? It’s bad enough that I hate Potions already, and now I’ll have to deal with his stupid, righteous, Slytherin-slandering ass!” You slammed your hand into the wooden table, shaking the plates and glasses near you under the force. 

“Careful there,” Georgiana scolded around a mouthful of bread. “Just keep your head down, don’t react to him like you always do,” she paused to gulp down a sip of pumpkin juice, “he’ll give up eventually.” You heaved a heavy sigh, propping your chin onto the palm of your hand and scanning the Great Hall. Masses of students bustled around, sharing meals and laughing or gathering over homework problems. You weren’t quite sure who or what you were looking for, but all you found was a rowdy group of forth year boys sitting atop one of the tables, casting small hexes at one another and their lunches. You rolled your eyes at their antics before resigning to picking at the few fries on your plate. 

“And if he doesn’t?” You mumbled, casting a pointed glare at a seemingly distracted Georgiana. It took her a second to shift her gaze back to your face, clearing her throat as she narrowed her eyes towards you. 

“Sorry?” She asked, pulling a section of crust off of the third sandwich she’d picked up off of the platter. 

“If he doesn’t give up? What am I supposed to do then?” The thought of living out the next two school years with Choi Beomgyu as a constant annoyance settled a pit of rage in your stomach. Georgiana was quiet for a moment, flicking a few locks of curled, fiery hair over her shoulder. 

“Then you get back at him.” She shrugged. “You know you get a discount at the joke shop. Just go down there and pick up some puking pastilles or something.” She looked up again suddenly, eyes shimmering and focused intently on something behind you. Out of curiosity you turned on the spot, wondering if there was something of interest outside of the window, only to be met with the sight of Soobin standing mere feet away, hand stalled mid-wave. It didn’t take a genius to notice that the Hufflepuff was staring intently at your best friend, and she was happily returning the sentiment with a goofy grin on her face. You whipped back around to face her, leaning across the table as if the action would provide any secrecy with him so close. 

“Are you and Soobin...” you wiggled your eyebrows at her and she swatted at your shoulder. Her cheeks blushed rosy as she whispered back, “He asked me if I’d want to hang out when we go to Hogsmeade this weekend.” Her voice shook as she spoke but you frowned instantly. Of course you were happy that he had finally manned up and the two of them were on the way to something akin to a date, but...

“First weekend Hogsmeade is our tradition!” You shouted, abandoning any secrecy you might have thought you’d maintained from Soobin. 

“Y/N, please!” Georgiana hissed, glancing up at Soobin with an apologetic smile. “Just once. You can still come along, maybe you can bring someone too?” She offered, trying to placate your irritation. Her eyes continued sliding between you and Soobin as she waited for your response. You sank back onto the bench quietly, arms crossed over your chest. 

“Fine.” You sighed. “I guess I can try to think of someone.” Georgiana’s face lit up as she stood from her seat and gathered her books back under her arm. She rounded the end of the table quickly, meeting up with Soobin just behind you. “Don’t think I’m not still irritated, Weasley!” You yelled after her even though she had turned her back to you. She stalled in her lockstep next to Soobin just long enough to turn her head and throw you a middle finger. 

——

The day of your Hogsmeade visit came quicker than you anticipated, and of course you’d failed to find someone to fill the empty spot that would prevent you from third wheeling. Everyone you asked had either been otherwise busy, sick, or already going into Hogsmeade with other friends.

Georgiana, being the wonderful friend she was, made sure that you hadn’t felt left out on the walk into the village. Soobin was surprisingly good at keeping conversation despite his shy appearance, and the three of you had managed to share lunch and a few Butterbeers at The Three Broomsticks before Georgiana began giving you pointed glances. It took you an embarrassingly long time to recognize what her hand signals and mouthed words were conveying, but once you did you had excused yourself to wander the shops alone in a bid to give the lovebirds some privacy.

The weather was surprisingly pleasant, and as such the streets were lined with witches and wizards of all ages. Large throngs of students and families passed you by, and you couldn’t help but feel a bit like a fish swimming upstream as everyone pushed by. When you’d first stepped out you felt odd walking the cobbled street alone, considering you’d never made a solo trip to Hogsmeade for as long as you’d lived. Something about it was quite relaxing, though, as you realized you could enter any store and stay for any amount of time. 

Once you’d wrestled your way through another group of oncoming students, you spotted an endearing baby blue storefront with deserts on display in the window. Many of them appeared to be muggle creations, and your mouth watered as you caught sight of a tray of fudgy brownies with a thick layer of chocolate icing. Your eyes had always been bigger than your stomach; so despite the fact that you’d just had lunch you find yourself stepping into the sweet smelling shop. An expansion charm helped stretch the store far beyond its dainty storefront, and you were met with the sight of even more display cases and tiered plates full of sweets. 

A few other wizards mulled around the store, debating which treats to pick up and pack into the little green pastry boxes which were stacked at the entrance in a never ending supply. You balanced one of your own between your hands as you gathered up treats, sure to grab three of the very brownies that had brought you in to begin with. You packed in a few cookies that you found on a shelf near the back of the store and began to weigh your options between purchasing what appeared to be a type of muggle cake with specs of color floating about the white batter or a more familiar looking pumpkin pastry dusted with powdered sugar. You contemplated the two deserts for an amount of time that would have been embarrassing if you were in the presence of company.

“Wrackspurts on the brain?” A rush of hot breath inches away from the shell of your ear had you reeling, clutching your box of precious deserts to your chest. Of course you’d immediately identified the voice; you were just hoping that you were wrong as you shot daggers into the boy who’d spooked you. Beomgyu looked beyond pleased with himself: a hand cocked on his hip, fake glasses perched at the very end of his nose to perfectly top off the outfit he’d chosen. His robes hung open, one shoulder almost devoid of the fabric as it drooped onto his back. The maroon turtleneck he wore struck a perfect contrast with the golden undertones of his skin and matched impressively well to the emblem on his robes. He had tucked the turtleneck into the waistband of a pair of light wash jeans that made it hard not to marvel at the shape of his waist. The scent of his cologne was faint, overpowered by the sweetness of the shop, but you were picking up overwhelming scents of-

“Hello? Earth to Y/N?” He scrunched his nose as he studied you, waving gingerly like you would have at a child.

“Oh! Uh, I’m here, I’m here. What the hell do you want anyway?” You turned your attention back to the two pastries you’d been considering before his sneak attack in an attempt to keep yourself from looking back at his form.

“What’re you doing here alone? Out of friends? Did ya bore them all to death?” He had rounded to the opposite side of the table, forcing you to look at him straight on.

“I walked into Hogsmeade with Georgiana and Soobin, if you must know. They wanted some time alone so here I am.” You glanced up again to see him leaning casually against the table with one arm bracing his weight.

“I just have to point out that you’re also alone, Beomgyu. So I’m not quite sure why so keen on bashing me.” Your eyes skate over the deserts one final time before you decisively package up a slice of the muggle cake. The urge to celebrate the small victory was squashed by Beomgyu’s scoff.

“I’m here alone because I chose to be, not because my best friend is on a date and didn’t want a chaperone. Don’t you find that a little embarrassing?”

To be honest, you hadn’t considered it that way. You knew that finding a person to keep you from third wheeling had been your responsibility. But maybe he had a point. Although he was a constant nagging force, Beomgyu was insightful and intelligent. He’d helped you in class many times back when you were friends. Nervously, you nibbled at your bottom lip and considered his words carefully. Did Georgiana find your presence today embarrassing? She was surely too nice to tell you so, and there was no denying the tension in her face while she waited for you to leave The Three Broomsticks earlier. Your normally stoic face must have betrayed you, conveying that you were starting to feel hurt at the words that suddenly seemed to make so much sense. 

“I was joking,” Beomgyu spoke up suddenly, rounding the table to once again be next to you. “Don’t take everything I say so seriously, Y/N. I’m beginning to worry for your sense of humor.” He picked up a couple of cookies with careful dexterity and settled them into the palm of his hand. 

“Of course,” you concluded bitterly, taking a step back in a bid to get to the counter and buy your treats. “Must be my broken sense of humor and not just the fact that you’re an ass.” His face twisted unpleasantly as you stepped further away. He opened his mouth as if to say something, but you were already pivoting on the balls of your feet to make your way toward the front of the shop. 

——

The evidence of the first frost of the season crunched underneath your feet as you hurried to class. As someone who prided themselves on showing up on time for classes every day, you were particularly embarrassed to have woken up with just twenty minutes to spare before the beginning of potions. There was no excuse, either. You had simply stayed up too late studying for the NEWT practice exam and forgot to set your alarm before lying down.

To make matters worse you’d greatly underdressed yourself, underestimating the absolute chill of the morning when you had peeled out from the window. Only now, as you found yourself feet away from the classroom did you feel the icy temperature begin to bite into your exposed skin. Your cheeks were numb with cold, and your hands shook as you pushed them under your arms for some amount of warmth. Luckily the classroom was warmer when you finally got to it. Guiltily, you grinned at your professor as he notably marked your attendance onto the scroll of parchment. 

“Rough night?” Beomgyu asked under his breath as the professor launched into the lesson for the day. You kept your back turned to the boy in favor of writing down the list of ingredients that was being provided to you. A firm poke in the middle of your back had you turning on your stool, already silently fuming as you came face to face with Beomgyu. 

“What?” You mouthed, trying your best not to alert your professor that neither of you were paying attention to him. 

“You look awful,” he mouthed back, pulling the most exaggerated gagging expression you’d ever seen in your life. Your fingers twitched, resisting the urge to grab him by his necktie and slap him across his annoyingly perfect face. Instead you threw up your middle finger boldly, practicing a muggle tradition that wizards had become quite fond of. Beomgyu feigned shock, laying a hand over his heart and pretending to faint right there at his stool. 

“-so you’ll be using this combination of potions for the group project, due in one weeks time.” Your professor concluded. Wide eyed, you spun back around on your stool only to see the words previously written on the board disappear with a flick of his wand. A group project? Potions, plural? You’d only taken notes on one mixture, and you were sure that Beomgyu hadn’t taken any notes at all. Although maybe the group project wasn’t among your table mate? Your heart fluttered as you prayed for that to be the reality, scanning your classmates to see if anyone got up to switch seats or combine tables. 

Not a single soul moved. 

“Guess it’s just us.” Beomgyu drawled from behind you. 

“Did you take any notes?” You asked, fear running through your veins. If both of you were clueless, you’d have to ask the professor to explain everything to you again, which would only implicate the two of you for not paying attention to begin with. 

Beomgyu shook his head and shrugged much too casually for a student who was in the dark about an entire project. 

“I’ll just ask someone. Hey, Art-” 

“No!” You scrambled for a rolled piece of parchment to hit him on the arm with before he could finish his shout across the classroom. “Please, do not scream across the room that we don’t know what we’re doing.” Your cheeks were flaming, anxiety and exhaustion building to a dangerous level in your bloodstream.

“Awe, are you ashamed to admit you were too busy talking to me to pay attention?” Beomgyu cooed, cradling his chin in his palms.

“No. I’m embarrassed that we’re the only ones not starting the work,” you glanced pointedly to all of the other tables where your classmates were hard at work on...something. Every table housed a slowly bubbling cauldron producing a steady stream of light grey smoke. The cauldron resting on the table between the two of you was alarmingly quiet, your stores of provided potion ingredients remaining untouched. 

“Alright, Y/N. How about right now we work on the one you wrote down,” he points a finger at the parchment containing the list of notes you managed to take, “and I’ll talk to someone about the rest. Since you’re too proud to ask for help.” Without waiting for you to process the words he gripped the parchment between his fingers and pulled it toward the middle of the table. He mumbled a simple aguamenti under his breath and the cauldron filled with the perfect level of water. He then scrutinized the words for just a moment before he began to collect ingredients with a practiced ease, barely even glancing at the labels of the hefty glass containers. You’d never seen him quite as focused in a class as he was at the moment, his nimble fingers uncapping lids and measuring precise amounts of lacewing flies with a delicacy you never would have expected to come from the hands of Gryffindor’s star Beater. 

One after the other, ingredients fell into the wrought iron cauldron, changing the color of the mixture from clear to an odd, murky green. You scrunched your nose in distaste but Beomgyu was nodding to himself in satisfaction, his fluffy hair bouncing back off of his forehead. 

“Stop staring and start taking notes, Y/N.” His voice was casual but his lips were twisted in a smirk as you scrambled for both an excuse and a fresh roll of parchment. 

“I wasn’t,” you defended as you begin to scribble out notes against the parchment, refusing to meet his eyes as the shame of being caught red-handed crawled up the back of your throat and stung behind your eyes. He simply hummed in acknowledgment and tossed in a few leaves of a plant you didn’t have time to identify into the bubbling mixture.

——

Impatiently, you tapped your foot against the stone floor. It echoed a sound that would have been satisfying in its consistency if it weren’t for the annoyance running through your veins. Beomgyu had promised to meet you in the west corner of the library today, at a prompt 7pm, in order to finish synthesizing your plan for the Potions project. You checked the clock on the wall again just in case you had somehow misread the hands only to find them confirming your suspicions. Beomgyu was blowing you off. He had suggested the time and place himself, and yet he couldn’t even have the decency to show up. 

Anger blossomed in your chest as you stood to gather the things you’d brought along. Your chair scraped on the floor and attracted the stares of a few other students put you paid them no mind as you swore under your breath. 

Of course Beomgyu had stood you up in the face of an important project. He was probably laughing away to his friends in the common room, boasting about how he’d left you sitting in the library like a fool. Once again he had proven himself to be an utterly useless and annoying human being that you wished you had never even met. Your teeth sunk into the supple flesh of your bottom lip so hard that blood pooled on your tongue, the bitter tang snapping you into action. The route to the Gryffindor common room was a familiar one, and the hatred brimming inside of you made your legs move even faster than usual, swearing under your breath as you finally came face to face with the portrait keeping you from entering the room. 

“I don’t have time for any password- please just let me in. I’m looking for someone.” Your words came rushed, obviously annoyed as you crossed your arms over your chest. 

“Now, you know that isn’t how this works, dear,” the painting asserted, crossing their arms to mimic your own stubborn pose. “I can’t let just anyone into the room. I’ve got,” the portraited stopped dead in its tracks and began counting on its fingers silently. “I’ve got 30 students inside right now, and it’s my job to protect them.” Your fists clenched at your sides over the stubborn portrait, fingers itching to grab your wand and level a badgering curse against the damned painting. It must have read the anger on your face as you fiddled with the fabric of your robes, as it’s booming voice came again; 

“Tell me who you’re seeking, and I can tell you if I’ve seen them!” With your fingers still curled around your wand, it took a fair deal of restraint to leave it in your robe pocket. After a deep, steadying breath, you looked back up at the portrait. A beat of silence passed before you slathered on a sweet smile, clearing your throat to quell any remnants of your frustrated growl. 

“I’m looking for Choi Beomgyu.” 

The portrait took a moment to contemplate your words, squeezing its eyes tightly and tapping its fingers as you assumed it searched the students inside the Gryffindor common room and dorms. 

“He’s not here.” It finally concluded, snapping its eyes back open to peer down at you again. Frustration flamed your skin red all the way to your hairline. Hogwarts and it’s grounds were extensive, and searching for him would surely take up your entire night. 

“I did happen to see out Quidditch players heading down to the pitch around 5 o’clock, though.” Not needing any further ceremony, you turned on your heels and made your way toward the exit of the castle. The corridors were fairly empty, and the few students still milling around were quick to step out of your way as you hurried through them, robes flowing out behind you. Silently you thanked your lucky stars that no professors had been around to inquire about why you were rushing out of the castle in such a haste. 

As soon as you set foot outside, you regretted not stopping by your dorm first to grab your coat and scarf. It had been three days since you woke up to the first frost, and the temperature had only continued to drop into frigid numbers. Even in the limited light provided by the setting sun you could see your breath fogging ahead of you. Cold air curled around your body, seeming to seep underneath your skin with a harsh ferocity. For now you simply tucked your hands deeper into the fabric of your robes, hoping that the heat of them in conjunction with your brisk pace would keep your body warm enough.

The walk to the Quidditch pitch was deceptively far when you traveled alone. Normally you were so distracted by conversation with your friends and the last minute bets between houses that you didn’t have time to mull over how many steps it took you to arrive at the stands; but today you were nothing short of pissed at how far away the compound had been built. Every step you took sent a shock of cold through your feet, your toes completely numb no matter how much you wiggled them inside your sneakers. The trees shuddered with you as you passed them, leaves spiraling to the ground as they finally give in to the pressure of the cold and resign themselves.

Finally you passed through the solid wood of the viewing stands, coming face to face with the expanse of the pitch in front of you. Totally empty. Not a single soul was to be found warming up on the grass or running practice games in the air. Upon listening, you couldn’t even hear any distant chatter that would indicate the team being huddled into the locker room.

“Shit!” A new wave of frustration crashed through your mind. Had you passed them on the way over? It was plausible that they had taken a different route back to the castle and your whole trip had been in vain. Exhausted, you leaned against the wall and listened to the whip of the banners against their metal poles, the clinking of their bindings matching with the steady, loud beat of your pulse. Just as you were about to turn and head back for the castle in your freezing shame, you heard another sound. This one was different, less uniform, almost like a grunt of exhaustion followed by a heavy thud. Your freezing feet moved almost without you to follow the noise. A vicious wind whipped your hair, mussing it up so badly that you had to stop in your tracks to gather it all back into place. You hazarded every step you took, unsure exactly where the source of the noise was coming from other than somewhere behind the stands. On your next step you heard the noise again, much closer this time, and the excitement of being close to solving this mystery had your footsteps speeding up.

Just as you rounded the curving stands, you spotted the culprit, still a little hard to make out due to the distance you had yet to cover, but the colors and shape of a Gryffindor Quidditch uniform were clear. Upon further inspection, it became obvious that the heavy thud you’d been hearing was a the heavy iron Bludger cracking against the magically reinforced bat. There were only two Beaters on the team, and one of them was the very man who’d forced you to walk into the frigid night. You continued your steady approach to the figure, morbidly curious over who it was that was out here pushing themselves to practice alone in the freezing cold. 

“Hey!” You yelled as you edged closer, hoping to give whoever it may be a fair warning that you were approaching. Within three feet of the body, there was no mistaking it to be Beomgyu. 

“Choi!” You raged, yelling much louder than required for him to hear you. The Bludger was sailing far away from the two of you with a strong hit as you closed the distance almost all the way. “I know you can hear me, asshat.” Beomgyu kept his eyes on the iron ball, effectively ignoring your words. In disbelief you glanced back and forth between his face-seeing the way his eyes narrowed in concentration as the Bludger came closer by the second. 

“Is this where you’ve been all night? Playing Quidditch while you were supposed to meet me in the library?” A strong gust of wind knocked the air out of you, shivers running down your spine as you waited for any response from the boy. The Bludger came whistling back toward the two of you, and in the split second you had the foresight to step back he had tensed his shoulders, gripped the end of his bat and took another strong and precise hit against the Bludger, sending it even further away than the last one. 

“Lost track of time.” He supplied absentmindedly, turning his head to regard you with lazy eyes. 

“What?” You seethed, stepping forward again, placing yourself in front of his frame in hopes of appearing somewhat intimidating. “You lost track of time? Let’s talk about the fact that out project is due in four fucking days, and all we have to show is a single god damn Potion. This was your responsibility,” you pushed your pointed finger into the front of his uniform, the fabric giving way to allow you to feel the firmness of his chest underneath. “I trusted you with the single task of making sure that we could figure out the rest of this project, and you fucked up!” Tears of frustration rimmed your eyes as the worry of failure overwhelmed you. As much as you hated Potions, you’d be damned if Choi Beomgyu became the reason you do poorly. 

“Listen, I seriously did just forget,” he pushed at your shoulders forcefully, to which you planted your feet into the ground harder. “Seriously, Y/N, I forgot! Now move!” 

“No! You are not,” you grabbed at his forearm and pulled it off of your shoulder, “going to blow me off again! We are going to work on this project right now, even if its the last thing I do!” 

“It’s about to be if you don’t fucking move!” He yelled, finally managing to uproot your feet and push you off to the side with so much force that you landed flat on your ass, the cold hardness of the ground knocking the breath out of your lungs. From the ground, you watched helplessly while Beomgyu scrambled to grab his bat in time to hit the whirring Bludger. He was a quick enough thinker to see that there was no way he’d make the move in time, so he simply did the next best thing- turning his back to the ball and ducking his head into his chest, covering the back of his neck with his arms. 

With a sickening crack, the Bludger made foul contact with Beomgyu’s back, striking just below his left shoulder blade. The force knocked him forward, his hands barely catching himself as he met the ground harshly. He cried out in pain, the sound bouncing around the stands and piercing your veins. In a hurry, you crawled toward his heaving body and urged him to sit up with the guidance of your hands. 

“Are you okay?” The words rushed out of you in a hurry, panic crawling up the back of your throat at the shine of tears streaming down his reddened cheeks. 

“Wh-what the hell do you think?” He groaned, body shaking as he struggled to even take a breath. 

“Okay, right. Dumb question. Let’s get you to the infirmary, yeah?” His legs shook as he got them under him, something akin to a baby deer taking its first few steps. Instinctively you shot out an arm to steady him, looping your arm behind his back as effectively as you could given the height difference and placement of his injury. 

“Merlin, I think I broke my shoulder blade,” he groaned, stumbling across the uneven ground with trepidation. 

“You didn’t, I watched. It actually hit right below your shoulder blade, so if anything it’s just bruised, and you probably won’t even need a bone-healing spell, so recovery should be little more than some Devil’s Claw for the pain and-” 

“Did someone cast a babbling curse on you? Merlin’s beard. It’s bad enough that you got me hit to begin with, and now I have to listen to you run your mouth!’ His voice was still pinched with pain, an octave lower than normal as he gritted his teeth. The two of you finally reached the threshold of the castle, encapsulated by the warmth of the torches littered all inside. 

“I’m trying to help! Did you ever consider the fact that if you had showed up to our scheduled meeting time, you could have avoided being hit. I could have avoided freezing all of my extremities off, and I wouldn’t have to be helping your ass to the infirmary.” 

The noise of your bickering outside of the infirmary wing attracted the nurse to the hallway, who furrowed her eyebrow in silent question over the two of you. 

“He got hit by a Bludger, ma’am,” you supply as soon as you see her. Her eyes widen instantly as she rushed forward, helping you guide Beomgyu into an empty cot. She shooed you aside as she fretted over him, asking questions about the incident in a low, steady tone before nodding seriously. Without any kind of warning, Beomgyu was pulling the fabric of his uniform over his head, leaving his top half bared to you. Your cheeks burned, and you cleared your throat nervously. The nurse was too busy prodding at the blossoming bruise to have heard your stutter, but Beomgyu was nothing if not aware. 

His dark eyes found your form standing just a few paces away, staring unabashedly at the faint hint of his abs that had become visible. 

“Somethin’ you like?” He drawled playfully, snapping you out of your reverie. 

“Merlin, no.” You sneered, hoping to cover the thickness of your tone as you swallowed hard. “Just trying to decide if I should tell the Quidditch team to get their backup trained for the game tomorrow night.” Beomgyu’s face fell at the implication of your words and a sting of regret struck your heart. 

“There will be no need for a backup, dear,” the nurse cooed, shuffling her feet as she gathered up a few healing supplies. She offered a bottle of innocent looking clear liquid to Beomgyu and he drank it instantly, grimacing at what you assumed to be a foul taste. “Now, dear, if you don’t fancy seeing your boyfriend in more pain as I heal him-”

“Please. He is not my boyfriend. I just helped him get here. I’ll be going now, anyway. See you tomorrow?” You asked pointedly, hoping he would understand your incessant need to finish the Potions project. He nodded slightly, and you scanned Beomgyu’s form one more time before excusing yourself to the nurse and scurrying back to your dorm. 

——

“I better hear a thank you.” Beomgyu asserted as soon as he slumped in the seat across from you. He had been so quiet in his approach to the table that you hadn’t heard him until now, rocketing your gaze up towards him from the pages of your Transfiguration book. 

“Beomgyu,” you breathed, relieved to see that he had been healed and able to return to classes just the morning after the Bludger hit. You schooled your features into cool indifference as soon as you saw his mouth twitch up at the sound of his name. “For what am I thanking you? Withholding information about the project?” 

“No,” he shook his head, springing a few carefully parted hairs loose from their spot. “For- number one-” he paused dramatically, drumming his bony fingers against the edge of the high-topped table, “providing you all the information for finishing this project.” Out of seemingly nowhere he produced a thick roll of parchment that unrolled to reveal a step by step explanation. Pages of carefully written instructions went into great detail on every step of the potions that needed to be made. A sense of relief and happiness washed through you, enough to make your hands curl into excited fists as you beamed. 

“Turns out our Seeker is good at more than catching a Snitch. She got the highest marks in this class last year, and agreed to share the notes with me.” 

“Thank you, Beomgyu. Seriously. I was beginning to worry.” 

“I know, I know. It feels good to be your savior, Y/N. Oh, which reminds me of reason number two; the fact that I spared you a Bludger hit last night.” 

“I thought we’d already covered this. Most of that encounter was your fault. Plus, your little shove left me with a bruise of my own on my ass.” Pouting, you shifted your weight in an attempt to alleviate the pain against said bruise. 

“Just admit it, Y/N,” he leaned forward, his face mere inches from your own so as not to be heard by anyone around. “You’re indebted to me. Two times over.” He was cocky, but you had to admit he had a point. As much grief as he had caused you, he had saved you from both a failing grade and an injury in just under 24 hours. 

“You’ve got a point.” Beomgyu shrunk back into his seat, cocking his head to the side as if he hadn’t heard you correctly. It seemed like he was waiting for a witty remark or some kind of argument to his words, but you kept a sure, steady gaze on him instead. Either your eyes were playing tricks on you or there was a slowly building flush of red blooming from under the collar of his cable-knit sweater onto his cheeks. Against your will, your mind reproduced the image of his bared chest from last night. 

“What do I owe you?” The question rolled off of your tongue like butter as you took the chance to lean forward to him, balancing carefully on your stool with your elbows planted onto the table. 

“I-I just,” Beomgyu frowned at his stutter, apparently upset by his own lack of confidence. His mouth opened and closed again in quick succession and you grinned wider. Another teasing lilt was right at the tip of your tongue, but the booming voice of your professor cracked the tension wide open and had you sitting back on your stool. 

——

Two days later, you stand behind your stool in Potions class, wringing your hands together nervously. Your portly professor had spent all morning swirling around the class, leaning over the cauldrons and vials present at every table. He muttered a few things to every pair of students, nodding along as they explained their approach to him. It seemed as if he were grading on the spot, since you caught a glimpse of a quill gliding over a small strip of parchment. 

Finally the elder approached your table, bushy eyebrows pinched into one another as he had already begun to scrutinize the potions laid out for him. He said nothing as he approached, quietly appraising your work. One by one, he picked up the vials one by one, peering through the clear bottom and giving them an experimental swirl. He hummed happily to himself and your heart soared. Across the table you noticed Beomgyu looking equally pleased. The professor set down the vials one by one before leveling his gaze onto you. 

“How do you think you did?” He questioned, producing the same thin strip of parchment you’d seen him use at other tables. Palms sweating, you stole a glance at Beomgyu who gave you an encouraging wave of his hand. 

“I think we did quite well, professor. It took us a bit to get the whole project together, but I feel confident in our end results here.” Nervously, your eyes skated down to his quill, tapping against the parchment rhythmically. 

“Well, I think you did quite well, the two of you. These potions are near perfect. Couldn’t make them any better myself.” It felt as if the air had been sucked from your lungs, shocking you beyond belief. Never once in your life did you think you’d be receiving such high marks in Potions- especially with Beomgyu as your partner. Your professor marked a delicate “A+” on the small strip of parchment. 

Beomgyu threw a triumphant fist in the air, wiggling in his spot with pure excitement. Your professor let out a belly laugh, spinning around to address the entire class. 

“I didn’t want to advertise this since I wanted you all to put in your best, pure efforts to the project. But, now that I’ve reviewed everyone’s work and determined the best,” you swapped a look of confusion with Beomgyu, both assuming that he was referring to you. “I am offering an award to our friends at Station 1!” He motioned to the two of you wildly, robes flailing as you ushered to the front of the room. Your peers glared at the two of you, but you were too far onto cloud nine to care. 

“Good thing I got those notes, huh?” Beomgyu muttered to you. Your eyes rolled to the back of your head. 

“Good thing I spent all last night making sure we actually had the potions to present.” Keeping your voice low and level to keep him from sensing just how grateful you were for his efforts. The class murmured lowly, surely trading snide remarks about the two of you until the professor cleared his throat pointedly.

From the pocket of his robes, the professor pulled out two small, clear vials. One was pressed into each of your palms, and you stared up at him with confusion. Maybe this was a sign you should have paid more attention to the types of potions around you.

“Luck potions, please use them carefully” he supplied helpfully, swirling back around to face the entire class. “Now, who’s willing to take a photo of me and our winners?” The professor bellowed, producing an old film camera from somewhere and brandishing until someone shuffled off of their stool.

——

Fresh, fluffy snow floated down in gentle waves outside the window. It was the thick of winter now, and despite your best efforts to bundle up you were still huddling into yourself for warmth as students shuffled into Potions around you. Everyone seemed especially lethargic, yearning for the break from classes that Christmas promised. You laid your head onto your folded arms, feeling just as exhausted as the atmosphere suggested. 

Sleep had been evading you lately, annoyingly deceptive as you would lay down in bed tired only to be kept awake by your racing mind for several hours. Somehow settling into your arms in this classroom was the most content you’d felt in days. And then you felt a firm push at the back of your head. There was no mistaking who the perpetrator was, especially as you heard the scrape of a stool directly across from you. 

“Good morning to you too, Beomgyu.” He was perched perfectly on his stool, eyes wide and bright. For as long as you’d known him, he had thrived in the cold and the snow. “You are obnoxiously cheerful. God damn Gryffindors.” 

“Not my fault you’re such a grouch. But I guess it is true that snakes don’t like the cold.” 

“Do you ever let up? Or do you get pleasure out of ruining my mood every single morning?” 

A grin cracked his lips as a short laugh bubbled through. “Thinking about my pleasure, are you? Concerned I’m not getting enough? I can assure you that-”

“Okay, gross. Stop. Enough. You know that isn’t what I meant.” Quite honestly, you had no time to endure his usual teasing so you simply turned your body away from him, idly watching the professor gather his things at the desk. 

“Right, let’s get going! We need all the time we can manage today!” He seemed more jubilant than usual as he centered his own cauldron onto the middle of his desk. “Today we’ll be making love potions. Amortentia, you may know. If you’ll open to page 104, you can find the procedure. It is important to note that this potion cannot make anyone truly fall in love, but it does create a strong attraction to whomever you make with it in mind. Of course, the full effect doesn’t apply unless it is consumed. Today we will simply be brewing it for practice. If done correctly, the potion will emulate-” 

“The scent of what you find most attractive,” you muttered absent mindedly, reading directly off of the page you had open in your lap. 

“Exactly, miss Y/N. Your potion today will smell like what you find most appealing.” He nodded proudly. A feeling of anxiety rose in your chest as he rattled on. No matter how hard you tried you couldn’t think of the type of scents that would come from the potion. You were quite fond of some scents in candle form, but you wouldn’t classify them as...attractive. Even more worrying was the idea that no matter how hard you tried, you would have to reveal this concoction in front of Beomgyu, who took every chance presented to torment you. Your professor clapped his hands together, marking the beginning of your working period. 

The instructions were simple enough, so you took extra care to be sure that the   measurements were as perfect as you could get them. The room was shrouded in a hushed silence that indicated everyone was working hard on this. After all, this was the most exciting potion that’d been offered to you all year. 

“Can’t wait to see which poor dude you have a crush on,” Beomgyu chuckled as he stirred his pot exactly three times counter-clockwise. 

“Could say the same for you! I seriously petty whichever girl you’ve been fancying. Imagine being at the receiving end of your...ick. You’d better tell me who it is so I can send them a warning.” You stirred your pot the same way he had, watching the mixture turn to a stereotypical bright pink. The instructions lead you to allow the mixture to culminate for exactly two minutes before any results could be sought. 

The students who happened to work faster than you were already taking a sniff at their potions and recording the scents on their parchment, some pairs gossiping amongst one another about what they smelled. A clank of metal had you whipping your head upwards, locking eyes with Beomgyu as adjusted his small cauldron to bend over his potion. Since it wasn’t your own, there was no scent for you to distinguish, but you watched the way his eyes widened in shock for a second. 

Unfortunately you had no time to process his expressions before you had to examine the contents of your own cauldron. Before you could even take a deliberate sniff, your senses were rushed with a mix of sweetened musk, a wood that seemed somewhere between cedar and mahogany, and an addicting citrusy undertone that you eventually recognized as bergamot. You placed it immediately.

“Merlin, Beomgyu. Could you refrain from spraying your cologne right now? Why are you even carrying it with you in the middle of-” The words died in your throat as you realized how incriminating your words had become, seeing as Beomgyu had nothing but his quill in his hands. A feeling of sickness rose in the back of your throat as he let out a hearty laugh. 

“My cologne, huh? I actually didn’t even have time to put any on today,” he peered over at your parchment, his height allowing him to easily read the fragrance notes you had scribbled before complaining. “But those are the exact notes of what I wear.” 

Your cheeks flamed, the heat radiating so fully through your system that you felt yourself begin to sweat despite how cold you’d been before. There was no worse fate than this, you decided. Amortentia had betrayed you, putting you under the mercy of Beomgyu’s knowing stare. Fuck, did he really have to find out now that the smell of his cologne secretly drove you crazy? That as much as you hated the way he teased and antagonized you, somewhere deep down you’d never quite lost the crush you developed in second year? 

“I was beginning to think you might’ve had a crush on me, Y/N. Isn’t that so sweet! The stony little Slytherin finally realizing that she’s attracted to me...this is quite the revelation!” Beomgyu lamented, obviously overjoyed at the new ammo he could load into his teasing. 

As much as you searched, you could find no words to defend yourself, as the proof was truly in the potion. A bit defeated, you sunk back into your stool, content to bury your face into your hands until your next class began; but at your new level you could see Beomgyu’s own piece of parchment scrawled with what he had smelled. Reading them upside down was a bit of a challenge, but he was too busy complimenting himself to recognize your analytical stare. Written in a neat list were the scents: sage, some type of berry (juniper?), eucalyptus, something woody (cedar?). 

Your heart stuttered, a bitter laugh threatening to spill out and give yourself away. Skillfully you held it back, cursing to any god or deity who might be listening. The notes matched up exactly with the perfume you wore every single day.

——

“You asked him why he sprayed his cologne?” Georgiana gaped at you across the table in the Great Hall. The two of you had joined up for lunch just hours after your Potions class disaster.

“Yes, but that’s not all! Just before I melted into a puddle of my own dispair, I saw his list, and I swear to Merlin it’s the exact notes of my perfume! Look,” you produced the travel-sized bottle from your pocket, flipping it to the back label and listing off the exact ingedients.

“Wow,” Georgiana nodded, sinking her teeth into a piece of pizza. “That’s quite remarkable.”

“Why are you not giving me more of a reaction?” You whined, stomping your foot against the floor petulantly. She raised an eyebrow high, taking a few more chews at her food.

“You want me to be honest? Or nice?” She asked, weighing the invisible options on her hands in front of you.

“Honest, I guess.”

“Oh, I was hoping you’d pick that one. You see, my sweet Y/N, the two of you have been dancing around this for years. Even though you renounced him all those years ago, I still talk to him on occasion. Not to mention he’s friends with Soobin, so I’ve been provided with some...insider information. To be honest, Soobin and I have both been waiting for the day the two of you finally stopped bickering and like...made out.”

Your face twisted unpleasantly, shocked at her words. “Insider information?” You croaked, creases forming in your forehead. Georgiana smiled devilishly and you swore you could see red horns rising from her fiery hair.

“Beomgyu talks about you all the time. Apparently, back when he was dating Klara, he would often talk to Soobin about how she never bantered with him like you did. They broke up because he kept comparing her to you. Told Soobin that he’s had a crush on you just as long as you have, but he thought you thoroughly hated him.”

“He has a crush on me?” You sputtered, stomach twisting into knots somewhere between disbelief and excitement. Georgiana full on laughed upon seeing your face, the cackle permeating through the air and turning heads.

“Well, I’m not gonna be the one to bring it up. If he’s got a crush on me, he can bring it up.” You suddenly decide, finally indulging in the pizza that had been waiting for you since you sat down.

“That’s my girl, stubborn to the very end.” Georgiana grinned and offered her hand for a high five that you eagerly returned.

——

The weekend brought you a much needed break from both schoolwork and all things Beomgyu related. Christmas break was fast approaching, and all of your professors had surprisingly laid off on assignments. It seemed as if they were just as tired of grading as you were of doing the work.

Unsurprisingly you found yourself in the library, sitting underneath the twinkling of the fairy lights set up especially for the holidays. Most other students were out socializing, so the room was pleasantly vacant. As a result you were able to settle into one of the plush velvet couches that were usually occupied.

After roaming the aisles you’d found an anthology of wizard poetry that piqued your interest. Settling beteeen the cushions of the couch with a book made you feel the most at home you ever had, cracking open the delicate binding and balancing the book in your stomach as you began to read.

There was no way to tell how long you’d been reading, but by your estimations it was only about 20 minutes before someone was looming above you. Startled, you lifted your gaze over the book to see none other than Beomgyu standing before you. He was decked out in a sage green sweater paired with slightly oversized beige slacks. He had forgone his robes, but his Head Boy pin still shined on the breast of his shirt. Typical.

“Can I help you?” You asked, finally sitting up to regard him.

“I thought you’d be here.” He said simply, shuffling on his feet awkwardly. You blinked.

“That doesn’t answer my question,” you poked, slipping your book shut dramatically. “Did you want to ask me something?” Beomgyu licked at his lips before rubbing his fingers against his forehead.

“Merlin, why do you make everything so hard?” He groaned and seemingly became so exhausted that he collapsed onto the ornate rug under his feet. Seeing that you’d riled him up so much by doing practically nothing sent excitement through your veins. As much as the bickering annoyed you, there was no denying the thrill you felt when giving him back a taste of his medicine.

“What exactly am I making so hard? I don’t even know what you’re here for. To be honest I’m shocked you managed to find me in the library. I figured you would start to burn at the door and have to find a different way in.”

Beomgyu rolled his eyes, a hint of a smirk playing at his pillowy lips.

“Don’t act like you don’t know why I’m here.” He finally began to reveal the award winning smile you’d come to know whenever he teased you. “I know what Georgiana told you.” His voice was low, so quiet that if there had been any other souls in the library you’d have missed it.

Your eyes flew open and he flushed instantly. “You two aren’t exactly quiet at the Great Hall, and I’ve got more than a few friends.” It was your turn to flush red, wondering just how many conversations between you and Georgiana had been overheard by other people. 

“So you know that I said...” 

“Why do you think I’m here? All it took was me knowing you also...you know,” he picked at the nonexistent loose threads in the carpet. Honestly, you were shocked at how reserved he had become in the face of this confrontation. All traces of his usual confidence seemed to have vanished in the moment. 

“I do like you, Beomgyu. I had a massive crush on you in second year, but then we got into that fight and-”

“I wouldn’t call it a fight,” he countered animatedly. “You just never understood my humor. All this time, I was hoping that you would catch the hints.” 

“Hints?” It felt like your eyes were going to fall out of your head with how wide you held them. “You call those hints? I’d call those lackluster clues, at best.” 

He was quiet for a moment, examining the smirk on your lips carefully. In a moment of impulse you slid off of the couch to sit opposite him on the floor, knees touching. Your heart hammered against your ribs.

“I’m sorry,” he muttered, gripping at his thighs nervously. “Didn’t know how else to go about it.” 

“That’s okay, me either, obviously.” A rueful laugh escaped your lips, and he returned one just as easily. Up this close, the planes of his face were defined by the delicate light provided from the fairy lights. Shyly you shared glances, neither of you knowing quite how to deal with the charged anticipation in the air.

“Will you...come to the last Quidditch game tomorrow?” He finally spoke, snapping your attention back to him.

“Only if I don’t have to wear one of your ugly jerseies.” Feeling bold, you leaned forward just a few inches, beginning to close the gap between you gradually.

“Fine,” he acquised, leaning forward just the same as you had, his breath fanning hot over your face. “In exchange for not wearing a jersey, how about you...” he tapped at his lips cheekily. A surge of excitement tumbled through you.

“That’s a shit way of asking me to kiss you for the first time, Choi.” Nevertheless you leaned forward further, bumping your nose against his own before you finally pecked him firmly on the lips. You felt ridiculously shy, like you were having your first kiss all over again, but Beomgyu smiled reassuringly, pulling your hands into his own and linking them together. The touch encouraged you both, and your lips collided with more assurance than before.

The faint scent of pumpkin juice lingered on his lips, and you wondered how many bottles he’d drank before finally deciding to come find you. Finally you both sought a new breath, taking a moment to close your eyes and collect yourself. When they fluttered back open you saw Beomgyu staring back at you intently, pupils reflecting the strands of lights strung above you.

He mumbled something so quietly that you couldn’t even hear it at your close distance.

“What was that?” You asked, wondering if you’d caught the end of a charmingly romantic thought.

“I said you’re in need of practice.” He smirked, leaning back of his hands cockily.

“Fuck you, man,” you slapped at his shoulder with a firm clap. He gasped, a hand covering his heart as if he were being sworn into a committee.

“Already? I didn’t take you for such an impure heart!” Another hearty laugh bounced around the library and you ducked your head into your hands, resigning to the fact that you were stuck with him.

[cower-before-power]

Naked Attraction

Summary: A typical day in your art class turn into anything but when you’re introduced to your nude model for the week- a devastatingly gorgeous man named Levi.

Pairing: Modern AU Levi Ackerman x F!Reader

TW: Nudity, swearing, suggestive content, age gap (reader is 20, Levi is 30), dick jokes, reader is thirsty and lewds Levi hard, perhaps poorly written stuff about art and drawing because I literally know nothing haha

(minors please do not interact, just to be safe)

Link to A03 here

A/N: Hello all! This is my entry for @ghost-party’s Meet Cute Collab with my darling husband Levi. I’ve never written for him before so I was a little nervous haha, I hope I did him justice! Thank you to everyone who reads, likes, comments, and reblogs- you are all wonderful and I appreciate your support! I hope you enjoy, my sweet potatoes!

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“Morning,” Jean greets you with a crooked smile and a steaming cup of coffee. It’s the good stuff from the café by his apartment, your favourite thing to help your brain shift into creative mode. “You’re later than usual.”

You grab the cup from him, sighing as you feel the warmth bleed into your hands. “Overslept. Barely had time to get dressed and brush my teeth.”

Jean’s eyes rove over you as you sink into your chair, humming to yourself as you sip on your drink. “I can see. Do you know you’re wearing two different shoes? And I think your sweater is on inside out. Why do you still even have that ugly thing anyways?”

“Thank you for your comments,” you roll your eyes. “I know I look like a hot mess and I don’t need any words from you, Mr. I Asked The Nude Model Out And Got Shot Down.”

Jean’s ears turn red, and he shoots you a dirty look before busying himself with arranging his pencils. “Shut up.”

You snicker to yourself as you set up your own area. Last week’s model had been a soft, pretty brunette that had instantly made Jean all starry-eyed, like a teenage boy with his first crush. It was generally considered a bit taboo to ask out the nude models, but he’d thrown that aside and gone for the kill after she’d slid back into her clothes. She’d laughed and patted his cheek like he was a naughty child asking for candy before dinner. Then proceeded to walk out and climb onto the back of her boyfriend’s motorcycle (but not before making out with said boyfriend for a good 5 minutes, minimum).

Jean had been left with red cheeks and no date, and you’d been left with great blackmail material.

“I wonder who will be our victim today,” you decide to take mercy on your poor friend and change the subject. “Most likely a guy, since we had a woman last week.”

“We’ll know in about 5 minutes,” Jean looks up at the clock on the wall. “Old Cueball is never late.”

Sure enough, in exactly 5 minutes your very bald and very punctual professor casually strolls through the door. A short man in a green coat is following him, presumably your newest subject. You crane your neck, trying to get a better look at his face, but all you can see is dark hair falling like a curtain over pale skin.

“Good morning class,” Professor Pyxis greets you, tossing his briefcase down on his desk with his usual nonchalant air. “I see you are all ready, so let’s get right to it.” He gestures to the person beside him. “This is Mr. Levi Ackerman. He’s your model for the week.”

The class murmurs in curiosity as the mentioned Levi Ackerman turns to face the room.

You swear your heart actually skips a beat.

Steel gray eyes observe the room from a face that practically begs to be immortalized through art. Every line is hard and strong, covered in clear skin that looks like it would slide under your fingers like the smoothest silk. Your eyes drink in his features greedily, from the regal bridge of his nose to the proud edge of his jaw. You decide your favorite thing though, is his cheeks. They are utterly cherubic, round and full and dusted ever so lightly with the lightest shade of pink.

He’s possibly the prettiest man you have ever seen.

“Hey, I know him,” Jean whispers, cutting off your entranced thoughts. “That’s Mikasa’s distant cousin, the one I told you she found on Ancestry.com last year. I’ve met him once, he’s got a stick so far up his butt, he’d need surgery to remove it. Never would have pegged him for the type to do this sort of thing.”

You vaguely remember a previous conversation involving Jean’s childhood friend and some long lost relatives.

“He doesn’t look that uptight,” you muse, too busy admiring the way his lips glint temptingly under the fluorescents to really process Jean’s words. “He’s beautiful, like something out of a Renaissance painting.”

Jean opens his mouth to reply, but Pyxis begins to speak.

“As usual, draw whichever side of him is facing you, all angles will be graded equally,” your professor plops himself down in his chair, already scrolling through his phone to find the playlist for the day. “Completed drawings to be submitted to me by the end of class on Friday. Please remember be respectful and courteous to our guest. Mr. Ackerman, whenever you’re ready.”

The man nods to your professor, already slipping out of his coat as he steps up onto the platform in the center of the room. You watch, mesmerized, as he proceeds to shed himself of his clothes. It’s rigid and methodical (he folds his clothes like he’s worked his whole life in a department store), but somehow oddly endearing. Every inch of his body that is revealed is consumed eagerly by your shameless stare, and you sincerely hope you don’t start drooling. By the time he carefully removes his final items, you feel like you are vibrating in your seat.

Holy fucking shit, he’s built like a god. Like Michelangelo himself carved him out of a block of the most pristine marble. You trace your gaze down the column of his throat, over the strong shoulders and sinewy arms, the impressive set of abs, the thighs that look like they could crush your head and you’d be nothing but happy about it. It takes a minute before you’re able to make yourself look between his thighs, and when you finally do, you have to looks away immediately. Good grief, even that is stupidly handsome. You can’t help but wonder if it would feel as nice as it looks.

Your face heats from your lewd thoughts, and you grip your pencil so hard it almost snaps. Beside you, Jean snickers.

“You okay over there? It looks like you’re about to explode.”

“Can it,” you hiss, glad that the ambient music Pyxis chose will probably keep your conversation private. “I can’t help it that I’m looking at the most gorgeous dick attached to the most gorgeous man I think I’ve ever seen.”

“You haven’t seen mine.”

“I don’t own a microscope.”

“Ooooh, see if I buy you coffee tomorrow, bitch.”

You stick your tongue out at him before turning back to your easel. As you move, you catch the gaze of Levi, his expression unreadable. Warmth creeps up the back of you neck, and you duck behind your sketchpad in embarrassment. You seriously hope he didn’t hear you, he’d probably report you to Pyxis for being creepy. You decide to lock all your stupid horny thoughts deep within the recesses of your mind, and take a few deep breaths to clear your head.

It works, and as you touch pencil to paper, the desire to create overflows inside of you.

Unsurprisingly, you become utterly engrossed in your work, your pencil sweeping over the pad with almost a mind of it’s own. Levi is the perfect model; you swear he’s not even breathing as he majestically hold his pose without even a quiver. The contours of his body spring to life on the page, and you can’t stop the joyful smile that blooms on your lips as you work. It’s times like these, when everything is so perfect, that you truly realize just how much you love making art.

Before you know it, Pyxis announces class is over, and you’ll resume with Levi tomorrow. The man of the hour begins to re-dress as your fellow classmates pack up their supplies and file out. You absent mindedly wave to Jean, who is practically sprinting out the door so he can make his next class all the way across campus. You’re still engrossed in your drawing, staring at it with critical eyes. It good, one of the best starts you’ve had all year, but now that the high of creating has worn off, you can see where you need to improve.

“You’re very good.”

You gasp and jump, whirling around to find Levi standing behind you, eyes fixed on your sketch. How did he even get there? You hadn’t seen him or heard him.

“Oh, uh, Mr Ackerman!” You squeak, your heart racing like you’ve just run a marathon.  “T-that’s very nice, I mean, thank- thank you very much!”

“It’s Levi,” your muse says, seemingly unbothered by your stammering. “Yours is going to be the best one here.”

You blink stupidly at his bold statement. “Did you look at all of them?”

“No,” Levi’s voice is firm, a tone that brokers no argument. “But you had the most joy on your face while you worked. That much passion doesn’t churn out stuff that looks like shit.”

“Oh, that’s only because you are such a great model,” you gush, insides turning warm at his praise. “You stayed so still and you looked so damn regal and you’re just so pretty and-” Your eyes go wide as you realize the absolute words vomit leaving your mouth, mortification slithering up your spine.

“I’m pretty?” Levi raises an eyebrow. “You think I’m pretty?”

“No!” You shout, and the man’s other eyebrow joins the first. “No wait, yes! I mean, fuck, I mean you are probably the most handsome man I’ve ever seen!”

Levi’s eyebrows have now practically become one with his hairline. You wring your hands, wishing the floor would just open up and swallow you. “I-well- come on, people must tell you how good looking you are! I can’t be the first.”

“No, but you certainly are the most enthusiastic about it,” Levi deadpans.

Oh, someone just put you out of your misery now.

“I’m sorry,” you offer, cringing internally at your complete ineptitude to hold a conversation with an attractive man. “I....get carried away sometimes.”

“It’s fine,” Levi’s stoic expression softens just a little. “It’s kind of nice to hear, actually. Usually I’m told I’m good looking, but ‘far too short’.”

“That’s bullshit.” you say vehemently, honestly shocked people would deny this man his godhood over something as trivial as height. “Who cares if you’re shorter? It doesn’t detract from you. What’s that phrase again? Good things come in small packages? Well, not that you’re small, I’m not saying that, I just meant-”

“Yes, you did seem to find my package....good,” Levi interrupts, and you swear you see the corners of his lips twitch upwards.

Your eyes widen in horror as your brain replays your hushed conversation with Jean. “You heard that?!”

“I’m told I have exceptionally good hearing.”

“Oh fuck me,” you groan, burying your face in your hands. “I am literally so, so, sorry. That was completely out of line. I have no excuse other than it’s clearly been too long since I’ve gotten some, but that’s no reason to make you uncomfortable. Please, if there’s anything I can do to to make it up to you, I’ll do it!”

“Have tea with me.””

Your head shoots up, surprise coloring your features. “What?”

“Tch, you heard me,” Levi tuts, reaching into his coat pocket and pulling out his phone. “I haven’t got free time till Saturday-stupid Shitty Glasses wanting to trade shifts-but if you want to go out, give me your number and we can work out the details.”

You stare at him with your mouth open, unsure if this is really happening or you’re vividly daydreaming again.

“Umm, are you sure?” You ask, wondering if you should pinch yourself to see if you are indeed imagining things. “I don’t know if you’ve noticed, but I’m wearing two different shoes and my sweater is inside out. Believe me when I say these sorts of fashion statements happen more often than not. Plus, I practically salivated over you like some sort of horny middle aged suburban housewife who hasn’t been laid in years.” You pause to take a breath, once again unable to stop the words from spewing forth like a fountain. “And I’m so awkward! I mean, are you comfortable in this conversation? And I can’t stop talking once I’ve gotten going, and I say the weirdest shit, and, and-”

“I like you,” he says simply, as if he’s just declared something as obvious as 1+1=2. “I couldn’t give a flying fuck about all the stuff you just said, you’re just... you, and I like it. So, do you want to go on a date or not?”

“O-oh,” you suddenly feel shy, your tummy filling with butterflies at the look of sincerity on his handsome face. You’d never met anyone quite like Levi Ackerman before, and you weren’t about to pass up the opportunity to get to know the man behind the drool-worthy muscles.  “Uh, yes, please, I would like that. Very much.”

An almost relieved expression crosses Levi’s face, and he hands you his phone to type in your number. You notice the time as you do so, and sigh sadly as you hand him his device back.

“Well I better go,” you say reluctantly, suddenly fervently wishing it was Saturday already. “I’ve got another class in 15 minutes.”

“I’ll walk you there,” Levi says briskly, slipping his phone back into his coat. “To make sure you get there safely. Someone might murder you on account of their eyes being assaulted by that garish sweater. ” The corners of his lips twitch upwards once again, and you grow warm all over, from both his gentle teasing and the knowledge he isn’t quite ready to say goodbye yet either.

“Excuse me, I thought you said you didn’t give a ‘flying fuck’ about my attire,” you huff, but you’re grinning as you quickly pack up your bag.

“I don’t care it’s inside out, but you have to know that is the ugliest fucking color know to man,” Levi says, holding out his hand. Your brain malfunctions slightly for a moment, until you realize he’s offering to carry your bag for you. The butterflies inside you whip themselves into a frenzy as you pass him your stuff, your hand just grazing over his. Handsome, funny, honest, and sweet? How is this guy even real?

“I’ll have you know, this sweater is an absolute delight. When it’s inside right,” you stick up your nose, but unable to stop he laugh that slips past your lips.

Levi rolls his eyes in an almost playful manner. “Doubtful .”

You’re not sure where it comes from, but a sudden rush of confidence fills you. “If you’re so offended by it, maybe you should just rip it off of me.”

The tips of Levi’s ears turn a delightful shade of pink. You’re sure your own skin is hot enough to cook an egg on.

“Wear it Saturday then,” Levi’s ears may be flushed, but his eyes flash with something that makes your spine tingle. The insinuation of his words has your gut clenching and your mind whispering fervent prayers to please please please make Saturday get here faster, I don’t ask for much, please!

“Only if you wear your modeling outfit,” you manage to say, trying your best to sound coy when you feel like you might combust into a pile of lust and giddiness. “I’ve never seen someone wear it so well, and I want a closer look.”

If possible, Levi’s eyes grow even darker, and you just know Saturday is going to be one of the best damn days of your entire life.

“Deal.”

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