#i didn't make their pride drawing this year so this is to make up for it | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

joycrispy · 1 year ago

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One thing I love about Crowley --never stated, but consistently shown-- is that he is, at heart, an engineer.

I have a few different things to say about that. Let's unpack them.

As the Unnamed Angel, we see his designs for the Pillars of Creation are millions of pages long, comprised of cramped text, footnotes, diagrams, schematics, etc. It's very...Renaissance polymath, in the way it implies a particular intersection of artist and inventor.

Also: in the naked romanticism with which he views his stars.

We already knew he made stars, but in s2 we learn that he did NOT sculpt each of them by hand. He designed a nebula ("a star factory," he says) that will form several thousand young stars and proto-planets, and all --aside from getting the 'factory' running-- without him lifting a finger. We also learn that these young stars and proto-planets stand in contrast to those made by other angels, which are going to come 'pre-aged.'

...I'm reminded of Hastur and Ligur's approach to temptations. Damning one human soul at a time, devoting singular attention to it over the course of years or decades, and how that stands in contrast to Crowley's reliance on, quote, 'knock-on effects.'

Ligur: It's not exactly...craftsmanship. Crowley: Head office don't seem to mind. They love me down there.

Hm.

I'm also reminded of the M25.

The M25 may not be as grand as a nebula (sentences you only say in GOmens fandom...), but LIKE his nebula it's an intricate, self-sustaining engine that does Crowley's work for him, many times over. Again.

That's some pretty neat characterization --and so is the indication towards Crowley's disinterest in victimizing anyone tempting individual people. It takes a considerable amount of planning and effort (and creeping about in wellies), but in accordance with his design the M25 generates a constant stream of low-grade evil on a gigantic scale.

Cumulatively gigantic, that is. Individually? Negligible.

But no other demon understands human nature well enough to parse that one million ticked-off motorists are not, in any meaningful way, actually equivalent to one dictator, or one mass-murderer, or even one little influential regressive. That's the trick of it. Crowley gets Hell's approval (which he NEEDS to survive, and to maintain the degree of freedom he's eked out for himself), and at the same time ensures that any actual ~Evil Influence~ is spread nice and thin.

It's some clever machinery. And he knows it, too:

The Unnamed Angel and Crowley are both proud of their ideas.

(musings on professional pride, Leonardo da Vinci, the crank handle, and 'the point to which Crowley loves Aziraphale' under the cut)

In the 1970's Crowley gives a presentation on the M25, projector and all, to a room full of increasingly impatient demons. Maybe the presentation was work-ordered; the 'can I hear a WAHOO?' definitely wasn't.

Before the Beginning, the Unnamed Angel can barely contain his excitement about his nebula. Aziraphale manages a baffled-but-polite, "....That's nice... :)"

11 years ago, Hastur and Ligur want to 'tell the deeds of the day,' and Crowley smiles to himself because (according to the script-book) he knows he has 'the best one.'

(Naturally, his 'deed' has nothing to do with tempting anybody, and everything to do with setting up a human-powered Rube-Goldberg machine of petty annoyance. Oodles of 'Evil' generated; very little harm done.)

Hastur and Ligur don't get it, of course. That's also consistent.

Nobody ever knows what the hell he's talking about.

It didn't make it on-screen, but, in both the novel AND the script-book, Crowley was friends with Leonardo da Vinci. The quintessential Renaissance polymath. That's where he got his drawing of the Mona Lisa --they're getting very drunk together, and Crowley picks up the 'most beautiful' of the preliminary sketches. He wants to buy it. Leonardo agrees almost off-the-cuff, very casual, because they're friends, and because he has bigger fish to fry than haggling over a doodle:

He goes, "Now, explain this helicopter thingie again, will you?" Because he's an engineer, too.

(It is 1519 at the latest, in this scene. Why the FUCK would Crowley know about helicopters, and be able to explain them, comprehensively, to Leonardo da Vinci?

...Well. I choose to believe he got bored one day and worked it out. Look, if you know how to build a nebula, you can probably handle aerodynamics. And anyway, I think it's telling that this is his idea of shooting the shit. 'A drunken mind speaks a sober heart,' and all. He probably babbled about Aziraphale long enough to make poor Leo sick)

Apart from Aziraphale, Leonardo da Vinci is the only person Crowley has any keepsakes or mementos of.

Think about that, though. Aziraphale's bookshop is bursting with letters, paintings, busts, and personalized signatures memorializing all the humans he's known and befriended over 6000 years (indeed: Aziraphale has living human friends up and down Whickber Street. He's part of a community).

Crowley doesn't have any of that. It's just the stone albatross from the Church (for pining), the infamous gay sex statue (for spicy pining), the houseplants (for roleplaying his deepest trauma over and over, as one does), and this one piece of artwork, inscribed, "To my friend Anthony from your friend Leo da V."

To me, at least, that suggests a level of attachment that seems to be rare for Crowley.

...Maybe he liked having someone to talk shop with? Someone who was interested? Someone engaged enough to ask questions when they didn't immediately understand?

...Anyway.

There's also the matter of the crank handle.

This thing:

This is one of the subtler changes from the book. In the book, Crowley knows Satan is coming and, desperate, arms himself with a tire iron. It's the best he can do. He's not Aziraphale; he wasn't made to wield a flaming sword.

The show, IMO, improves on this considerably. Now he, like Aziraphale, gets to face annihilation with what he was made for in his hand. And it's not a weapon, not even an improvised one like the tire iron.

He made stars with it.

[both gifs by @fuckyeahgoodomens]

If you Google 'crank handle,' you'll get variations on this:

Crank handles have been around for centuries. Consisting of a mechanical arm that's connected to a perpendicular rotating shaft, they are designed to convert circular motion into rotary or reciprocating motion.

Which is to say they're one of the 'simple machines,' like a lever or a pulley; the bread and butter of engineering. You'll also get a list of uses for a crank handle, archaic and modern. Among them: cranking up the engine of an old-fashioned car... say, a 1933 Bentley. That's what Crowley has been using his for, lately. But he's had it since he was an angel and he's still, it seems, very capable of it's angelic applications.

Stopping time. For instance.

(This is conjecture on my part, but, I like to imagine that Crowley has the ability to stop time for the same reason I can --and should-- unplug my computer before I perform maintenance on it. Time and Space are a matched set, after all, and in his designs in particular, one feeds into the other.)

I know everyone has already said this, but: I REALLY LIKE that when he needs to channel the heights of his power, he does so not with a weapon but with a tool. Practically with a little handheld metaphor for ingenuity. One from long-lost days when he made beautiful things.

(And he loved it. Still loves it --he incorporated that metaphor into the Bentley, didn't he?)

Let Aziraphale rock up to the apocalypse with a weapon: he has his own compelling thematic reasons to do exactly that. Crowley's story is different, and fighting isn't the only way to express defiance. And if you've been condemned as a demon and assumed to be destructive by your very nature, what better way than this?

He made stars. They didn't manage to take that from him.

Neither Crowley nor Aziraphale are fighters, really --they have no intention of fighting in any war. They'll annoy everyone until there's no war to fight in, for a start. But between the two, if one must be, then that one is Aziraphale. Principality of the Earth, Guardian of the Eastern Gate, Wielder of the Flaming Sword... all that stuff. Even if he'd prefer not to, it's very clear that Aziraphale can rise to the occasion, if he must.

Crowley was never that kind of angel. He wasn't a Principality. He doesn't have a sword.

...And yet.

It's Crowley who protects. He's the one who paces, who stands guard, who circles Aziraphale and glares out at the world, just daring anyone else to come near.

In light of everything else I've said here, I think that's interesting.

Obviously part of it is that Aziraphale enjoys it and, you know, good for him. He's living his best life, no doubt no doubt no doubt. But what about Crowley? What's driving that behavior, really?

Have you heard the phrase, 'loved to the point of invention'? Well, what if 'the point of invention' was where you started? What if where you end up involves glaring out at the world, just daring anyone else to come near? What is that, in relation to the bright-eyed thing you used to be?

What do we name the point to which Crowley loves Aziraphale?

...Thinking about how an excitable angel with three million pages of star design he wants to tell you all about...becomes a guard dog. Is all.

#good omens #ineffable husbands #aziracrow #Crowley #Aziraphale #good omens 2 #good omens meta #unfortunately I do not have trains of thought #only long meandering strolls of thought #sorry about it #anyway tl;dr Crowley is a nerd #also I have a strange emotional attachment to the idea of 1500's Crowley...#...facedown in a pile of Mona Lisa sketches; drunkenly info-dumping about Aziraphale #and Da Vinci is just like. 'Ahhhh mio amico Antonio. You fucking simp.'

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dilf-docs · 1 month ago

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A Pillar I Am Of Pride

vander x younger!fem reader

summary: you're too young, that's what he tells himself; that you could be one of his kids. but of course you have spent too much time with vi, and unfortunately for him, stubborn rhymes with your name: you just don't know when to quit.

warnings: 18+ (minors dni), age gap (25ish/45ish), smut, p. in v., ofc there is SIZE KINK who do u think i am (he can choke me with those huge arms idcidc), manhandling, thigh riding, dirty talk, virgin!reader, public sex (they violating every health code on the last drop), belly bulge, cream pie, breeding kink if u squint, this is basically pwp also with happy ending (no one blows up or dies yet THIS IS my story and i say they're all happy as a big family SHUT UP)

word count: 3,142 words

side note: hope the arcane community hasn't died yet, looking at the amount of votes i received on the poll where i asked if y'all wanted stuff from the show. I LOVE VANDER!!! saw the drawing and went insane as in a PRIMAL NEED TO WRITE SMTH abt one of zaun dilfs overtook my brain LIKE who do u think i am???? ++based this little filthy 2D piece on the hozier song dinner and diatribes.

You just don't know when to quit.

Vander isn't dumb. He's lived enough and seen enough. He's lived enough to tell when the admiration became adoration on those big eyes of yours, that looked up to him first but now down without an ounce of shame through his sturdy built whenever you think he isn't looking.

He isn't dumb, so he knows he shouldn't encourage it. Yet, Vander also thinks there is something different about you.

There is this desire to protect you, love you like one of his kids, but there is something unique about you he can't quite tell, enough to differentiate you from viewing you as part of them, even if there's a bed belonging to you next to theirs.

He is a fool, for thinking you wouldn't end up adopting at least one of his or the kids' traits. And of course, lucky him, it had to be Violet's headstrong nature.

"Vander" you call out his name, and he's brought back to the red and the bridge.

He can still see you, eighteen, fighting against an enforcer twice your size: because he took the life of your parents, faces Vander had seen in the mines and then at their meetings, ready to fight in the name of the undercity, for a change and a future: for their daughter.

That is what Vander wants for his kids in Zaun. For you.

So he negotiates with them, even if your eyes fall when you learn the truth one evening, eavesdropping. He pleaded you not to tell the rest, afraid they'll see him differently, just like you. Still, you keep calling his name like you did at the bridge: like a hero; savior. He saved you from death, but you'd die for him.

He keeps his eyes trained on the glass he's wiping as you take a seat in the stools infront of him, unable to look you in the eyes. It kills him; gets harder each passing day. He can't keep lying to himself, but he can lie to you. Protect you, he swore he would do that when he saved you and took Powder and Vi. So, yes, he'll lie his ass off, that his heart too hasn't changed after the years; that it doesn't beat for you and only you.

"Hey, y/n" he forces out, but even saying your name brings him pain.

When did you go from a kid leaving the last remains of hope and naive kids in Zaun drop sooner than others, to a woman equally dangerous in heart and beauty? When did you stop looking like a big sister or a babysitter, to more as a mother to Mylo, Claggor, Powder and Vi?

"Vander" you call again, touching his arm softly, but it burns. It burns.

He stops what he's doing, still without sparing a glance your way.

"C'mon, V." he hates the way such a silly nickname, a monosyllable on top of that, makes him feel. "Look at me, will you?"

He does so, because he can't deny you anything.

"There you go" you laugh easily, as if you didn't know the power you held over him. "Easy, isn't it?"

"You better let me finish" stern, but a smile betrays him.

"No one is stopping you" you huff, "or bothering you"

He finishes the glass, picking up another. "You are"

"Me?" you laugh the accusation off. Then it dies down, and all that's left is the neon hues of outside, reflecting something more mellow, akin to sincerity in your face. "You're right, it's always me"

He doesn't know what to say, all words lost. Silco used to say he knew how to move the people, that masses would follow just by looking at him: Vander always knew what to say.

But as of late, during the end of the day, when it's just you and the dirty glasses he cleans away, Vander finds it hard to speak even, like you're trying to talk in a language he doesn't know, or worst, used to, yet is too old for that now.

"Where is everyone?" he asks, and when you laugh, he knows he's said something stupid. But there are more stupid things to say, like I love you, so he's safe. For now.

"Might be because we're closed" you mock. "The kids are asleep, if that's what you truly wanted to ask. Made sure of it"

The last part, whispered like a secret. He can see the dare laced in between your words, the desire that pours like the drink he's serving you right now, but he's too old to play games.

"Good" then pushes the glass to where you sit. "Drink"

"Is it new?" you inspect the glass. "I hope you're not trying to poison me"

He laughs, "You know I couldn't hurt you, y/n"

There goes that expression again, and he hates to realize he's playing along.

"I know, Vander" you take a full sip, as if showing him just how much you'd trust him. Like he could have a gun put to your head and you'd understand; like he could have a hand around your neck and you'd breath the last huffs of oxygen in his name.

Silence settles in, until you decide to break it by saying:

"You know, if you wanted to get me drunk" the drink dissapears in a rough gulp, the liquid smooth while it burns and slides down your throat, "you could've just asked"

"And for what would I want to do that?" he bites right into the bait.

The stool creaks as you get up, and he finds your face closer than the smoke and ashes of when he takes a drag.

"Because I know you too want this" you whisper, dangerously low.

His breath hitches, heart beating fast. He could break you in two, if he wanted to, but now trembles like a leaf in the wind with just your perfume and eyes piercing through his.

"Want what?" he dares to ask, duties forgotten long ago.

You click your tongue, maybe in dissapointment.

You just don't know when to quit.

"The evening's slow" now sweet, tempting. "About to end"

He feels drunk, even if he hasn't had a drop. You're lulling him right into your trap. It doesn't matter if he has stopped you before: ignoring the bat of your eyelashes, the lingering touches and the sweet words that seemed reserved for him only.

"What would you do?" he gulps, Adam's apple bobbing. To me, too coward to voice out loud; to stop this nonsense.

You walk over to him, standing still, almost defiant, even if he doubles your size; the thought only makes heat pool in your stomach. The ember of the moonlight shines over your corageous eyes, and Vander thinks he really needs to shorten your quality time with Vi. A hand traces over his defined pecs: hands he's seen before hold a gun, now touching him with a softness that doesn't belong in the undercity.

"Don't you think knowing it's late makes it easier know what I have in mind?" you laugh, and it tickles parts in his body he isn't ready to say yet. "Just give in"

You should've know when to quit.

His eyes darken, and this isn't the Vander you know. If anything, you should be scared, but you rub your thighs together, spot already wet.

"If anyone's about to give in, it's you"

Before you can register, his lips smack together with yours as he takes the lead. His big hands cup your face, traveling down until they reach your hips, and the pressure of his size feels so much better than you imagined.

"Tell your man what would yo do tonight?" huskily whispered your way. His knee finds it's way between your thighs as he applies pressure to your already slick cunt, making you yelp. "Or cat got your tongue?"

You're at loss for words, for the very first time in a while. All that time spent provoking him, edging and pushing for a reaction, so sure of the hidden flame sparking behind the curtain of smoke of his pipe, to know surrender so easily, like your body is unable to react at all.

So instead, you entangle your fingers through his greying hair, a small whine escaping your lips, the sleeping fierce need of battle now translated in the fight for dominance, his mouth growing more demanding.

Vander pushes your body against the bar, making the wood creak. He applies more pressure with his knees, making you whimper again, his tongue reaching every spot inside your sweet mouth.

"God, you're so sweet" he mumbles.

"Then why did you stop yourself all this time?" you breath out, as tempting as the shadows that walk through the streets.

Hi smiles devishly, biting your lip. "Ain't nothing stopping me no more"

He uses your body as he pleases, handling it to his complete and utter advantage, thumbs now digging into your hipbones before he feels you grinding against his knee.

"Greedy little thing. Haven't I taught you manners, ey?" but the way he looks at you, like a starved man who's been denied a meal for years, encourages you to keep rolling your hips. Once you find a steady rhythm, he releases your hips and moves to grab your wrists, pinning you down in the free bar. You whine, the pain of the hard wood on your back digging on your skin.

"Vander" you gasp, but he shuts up the pain by forcing his lips right back. His handsgrab back ahold of your thighs so you keep up the rhythm. He can feel a spot over his clothes start to dampen, doing nothing but augmenting the hunger. God, he can even feel the smell of your arousal.

You moan, head leaning back.

"Feels good?" he asks, and you mumble a nonsensical myriad of words that sound like yes. He nips your neck, making you squirm under his touch.

"C'mon, baby. I ain't deaf but I didn't hear you" Vander taunts, biting still. Now he travels to your collarbone and then tits, removing your shirt to reveal no bra under. Of course, you little vixen had planned it all and he fell like a fool. Not that he's complaining, of course, giving a lick to the soft rosy skin around your nipples.

"M-more, please!" you whimper out loud, mind numb.

"You wanted it so bad, yet can't even speak" he murmurs, sucking a spot dangerously near to your nipple. Your movements against his knee come to a halt, but he makes sure to keep you and your puffy core grinding against his thigh. "Talk"

He should know that you wouldn't give up that easily, prideful as he was, no matter if this is what you've always wanted.

"I said talk" your legs tremble around his when he forces you down harder. "I wanna hear you ask for what you say you wanted so bad, don't think I didn't notice all your traps, taunts and plays, little vixen"

The nickname makes you moan, inciting you to pour the words out.

"Ruin me, Vander" and he barely has time to react, knowing that no man has ever touched you before, your untainted territories dripping for him. "Please- take me and make me yours"

"You know I've never denied you anything" he breaths against your neck, "how could I ever say no to you if you ask so nicely, huh? I see you remembered those manners"

It's now his hand what touches between your thighs, leg long gone. His fingers rub firm circles around your clit through the cloth, making you shiver.

"Let's start small, yeah?" he encourages, "I know you're my brave girl, but I would like you to come on my fingers first"

Vander strips you down, eyes going dark when he sees your needy cunt on display. He shuffles himself down between your legs, and the pressure is new and much, you feel you could come with just the touch of his hand.

"You're so pretty. Can't believe you're giving all of this to an old man like me" he kneels down as you sit legs opened up on the bar, dragging his tongue through your wet folds.

"Sit still, yeah? Let me take care of you" he licks again, gently sucking on it as well. He can't help but wonder why he folded so easy, as if he hadn't put a stop or ignored all of your previous attempts at having him. Now he has you, under him, saying his name in a way he hadn't before, as he makes out with your puffy clit.

"Fuck" you gasp, head falling against the wood. Your hands and toes curl, waves of sensations never felt before washing over you, as Vander continues giving your pussy ministrations.

The energy is electric, your arousal flowing like a river, making wet slurping sounds come out of his lips, feeling up the empty bar, your moans as back track filling his ears. Vander's beard is covered in your juices, making all of this the more obscene.

"I see you liking it" he jokes, licking some of it off his mouth. He adjusts your legs over his broad shoulders, barely noticing the added weight. Your thighs are so close, he can feel them tremble as he slips a finger inside of you, pumping in and out.

"V-Vander" you whine in ecstasy. He loves the little sounds coming out of your mouth; obscene symphony. He adds another finger, now curling them upwards, making your walls drip more while clenching around them, loving the sensation. Your nails dig so deep, you can feel blisters inside of them, holding yourself for as what would be your first orgasm.

"I-I think I'm going to-" he can sense it, years of experience ahead from you. So now he gives his fingers a break, kneeling to let his tongue enter the game again. It swirls around the tight walls, making you squirm.

"Fingers. Now" you demand, and he's carrying your legs again on his shoulders, thrusting them inside of you aggresively. You feel your folds clench around them, your very first orgasm washing over you.

"You behaved well" he praises while kissing your puffy cunt, skin glistening and still sensible. "That's my brave girl"

He uses the cloth he's cleaned the glasses with to wipe off himself. You gasp, laughing even if your eyelids feel heavy.

"What? Think I'm gonna be dirty when I fuck the shit out of you?"

You didn't think his mouth could be so filthy, used to his fatherly side, but oh, you're not complaining. He removes his belt, pulling his pants down. Of course he's huge down there, you think, as the tent behind his underwear marks a reasonably large silhoutte.

"Now, will you be brave one last time? I don't want to scare you, or hurt you?" his boxer falls to his knees, dick hard. You gulp, but can't back off now. He, however, can sense your doubt. "Just say it, and we'll stop"

"No" even you are surprised by the conviction in your voice. "I want you, Vander. Always will"

You open up your legs, closer to the edge of the furniture. He walks over until his dick brushes your cunt, pulling up your legs once again, a position you've discovered as of today, might be your favorite.

"See, there is a reason I didn't clean you up. Don't think I don't know my manners as well"

He lubes with your still wet pussy, wasting no time to rub his dick against your glistening folds.

"We're alone, but don't want to wake up the kids, ey" you nod. "So, you'll behave?" you nod again. "Good girl"

"Now, if it hurts, tell me and I'll stop"

Vander aligns himself up with your entrance, and with one deep motion, buries himself all the way to the hilt. It's almost as if he's forgotten his gentle side.

"Mphm-" you're about to scream, but his big hands cover your mouth.

"Bad girl" he tuts, "you promised"

Your back hurts, arching itself from the wood as you take all of his girth, walls squeezing him perfectly.

"Don't worry, the pain doesn't last long" he assures you, hips going back and forth softly. He picks up the pace, slowly but determined, seeing you have adjusted to his size already. "There. Take it, my girl"

He buries himself inside of you, body numb at his size and strident movements of his hips against you.

"Y-you're so b-big" you speak up for the first time in minutes, letting out another moan. "I can even feel you-"

You don't finish the sentence but the image is there, right infront of him. That only encourages him to fuck you harder, the thrusts now more brutal and violent.

"Tell me, where you feeling me?" you can't speak, so you point to your stomach. "Yeah? Filling you up so good you can't even speak?" then pounds you even harder. The pain is intense, but so is the pleasure, making you mumble more incoherences while even tears begin to well up in your eyes.

There is pressure on your lower belly, and it's not his bulge. No, you recognize it, despite having only felt it once: your orgasm is building up again. The furniture squeaks, looking like it will break under both of your weights combined, his thrusts now sloppier and messier. He was also close, grunting when your walls begin clenching around his dick.

"Fuck, Vander" you whimper out. "I think I love you"

Before he can register the weight of your words, thick ropes of cum fill up your pussy, his whole body shaking and finally succumbing to his age. He empties himself inside of you, your greedy cunt taking every drop. It's a fleeting second, but he remember Felicia, and the news she dropped that day. He thinks of a child with your eyes and his hair, the cruel world that awaits them but still can't let you waste any of his seed.

The room goes quiet as both of you try to even your breaths. After a while, your confession settles in.

"I don't think I love you" he gets down, kissing your nose gently. "I know I do. Can't deny that anymore"

The adoration on his eyes is so pure, you feel like crying again. The feelings you kept to yourself and left like crumbs for him to pick up through out this past days have finally transformed into something real. So real, your pussy still feels warm, just as your heart.

He easily carries your body on his strong arms, up to his room. You had never slept there before, and despite the numbness, you keep your eyes open, excited as a child.

"Good" you laugh, "because I was running out of ideas"

#dilfistwrites #arcane #arcane x reader #vander x reader #vander #vander arcane #arcane vander #vander x you #zaun dads #blisters and bedrock #arcane season 2 #arcane season 1 #arcane s1

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dcxdpdabbles · 2 months ago

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I reread Dauntless Matchmaker recently and I love it, could you please make another part? Either that or another part for One Hell of a Bellhop, Legal Compensation, or Mr Flavors Soda, any of the above would be great, your choice ^-^

Danny skips up the stairs towards Wayne Manor's front entrance with a binder, a few notebooks, and his laptop tucked away in his carry bag. Humming under his breath, he raises his hand to knock. Before he can touch the wood, the door swings open to the beaming face of his fake boyfriend, Tim Drake.

"Hi!" The other gasps breathlessly. He adjusts his cardigan from where it had fallen off his left shoulder. Danny has noticed something about Tim. He was always so nervous and clumsy. The poor thing was taking his heartbreak badly.

"Hi, Tim." Danny grins. He holds up his NASA theme bag with pride. "I brought the stuff!"

His boss' brother lets out a string of nervous chuckles that slowly dissolve, coughing when he chokes on his spit. Alarmed, Danny started smacking his back in hopes of helping. He wishes he could say this was a one-time thing, but Tim, unfortunately, does this often.

"Master Tim?" Alfred calls from down the left hallway.

"I'm fine! Everything-cough-hack- everything is fine!" Tim screams back, entirely red and looking a tad bit mortified. Clearing his throat, he straightens to full height, back pin straight and looking every bit the young gentleman of his standing. "Shall we move to the viewing room?"

Danny knows he's only trying to save face, so he only smiles and steps inside. As they had agreed on two weeks ago, Danny loops his arm through Tim's, pressing himself close to the other's side, just as Alfred walks by.

The aged man seems pleased to see them so affectionate, which Damian said Danny had to play up because otherwise, it would not be believable. Tim only dated men and women who showed their care through physical touch, and he was often seen holding hands or looping arms with his partners.

As it is, Tim does his part well, beaming up at Danny. He was taller after hitting a second growth spurt, but sadly, he seemed to take after his mother rather than his father. Danny was only two inches taller than Tim.

On the other hand, Jazz grew like a weed. Once it became apparent, she took after Jack in height. Dan's appearance gave Danny hope that he would break the six-foot mark in a few years—you know, if the madness and devouring Plasmius didn't affect his development too much.

"What are you showing me today?" Tim asks as they stride past Damian. The younger boy makes a face, the same one Danny made whenever Jazz brought over a boy, and they were being sickly sweet. He offers his boss a smile in return, watching those intense green eyes roll.

"I brought evidence of why Yetis' healthcare is far superior to ours." Danny pats his bag with a satisfied smirk. "Nothing beats Frostbite."

Tim melts. "That's amazing. I can't wait to hear all about it. Then we could go get dinner. How does Divine Palace sound?"

"The upscale restaurant? I would need to change before I'm allowed in there. It has a dress code, doesn't it?"

Tim snuggles closer. "You can borrow one of my suits."

"You know it's bad luck to wear someone else's clothes?" Danny tells him they have just arrived at the viewing room. The projector is set up, and Danny is waiting to plug in his laptop. A sizeable plush couch is pushed in front of the large empty wall, where Tim plans to curl up and watch Danny's presentation.

Meeting someone who adored all the educational information about Ghosts and their culture was lovely. Danny's parents were more interested in the aspects of biology and anatomy than the sociology and anthropology he studied.

After he finished his slide show—sadly without pictures as ghosts disrupted the camera—he would show Tim his notes, which the two could flip through together on the couch. Since his PowerPoint lacked images, Danny settled for some drawings and blurry photos he had stored in his binder while exploring the Zone.

He started it when he was fourteen, gradually growing over the years.

"Why's that?" Tim asks, throwing himself on the couch and crossing his legs underneath him. He places his elbow on the meat of his thigh and leans his head on his hand, his eyes never leaving Danny.

They seem to be shining, utterly captivated by the Halfa.

"It makes it easier for ghosts to overshadow you," Danny answers promptly, unzipping his bag to take out the materials from his bag. He had to look away from his friend because the way he was staring was making him a bit flustered.

"Overshadow?"

"It's another way of saying possession, but it's more politically correct." He responds, plugging in the wires to his laptop and watching the lock screen of his computer appear on the wall. "My sister's first boyfriend attempted to do that to her. Gave her some of his girlfriend's stuff so she could form around her and use Jazz as an anchor to stay on this plane."

"And you saved her before he could succeed," Tim sighs adoringly.

Danny puffs out his chest. "I did!"

Tim pressed a button on the side of his couch. At once, the thing expands, pushing the backrest down and expanding the bottom until it forms an even flat surface. Danny initially thought it was a recliner, but apparently, rich people had couches that could turn into beds in seconds.

He lays flat on his stomach, kicking his feet and leaning on both hands as he smiles like a loon at Danny. "That's amazing."

Danny bites his lip, trying to be modes,t but it's hard when he's being praised by someone like Tim Drake.

"Well, it's just what a good brother does. All I really had to do was use his bad luck against him, and really, Jazz sort of snapped out it when he tried to punch me," He babbles while scrambling to log into his account. He needs to do something before he bursts from all the giddy, mushy feeling in his chest. "It was nothing compared to when I had to win a pie-eating contest against Baker."

"Hmm?"

"Baker is a pasty theme ghost that is shockingly powerful. He locked me in a battle for five days before I convinced him to switch to a food theme contest." Danny laughs, shaking his head at the memories. "I was stuck in bed for a day with the biggest stomach ache, but I won that day. And victory was sweet."

Tim swoons.

Just as Danny is booting up the presentation, his superhearing catches the whispers of Tim's other siblings from the hallway. Damian had instructed him not to let anyone else in the household learn the truth of his contract because it would eventually get back to Alfred.

After meeting the man, he completely understands the paranoia.

"Who is that?" He's pretty sure that's the oldest Dick.

"Tim's new obsession." Answers Steph with a smirk in her words. "Apparently, he's some paranormal-obsessed conspiracy theorist."

"Why does he always go for the crazy ones?" Jason sighs dramatically.

"Have you seen Danny's biceps? Were it not for his health issues, I would have thought Tim found a secret off-duty hero."

Danny hastily focuses on his first slide, trying not to show his fear. Tim continues to watch him kick his feet and play with some of his hair. He has a habit of twirling his hair. Tim almost always does that whenever Danny sees him.

#dcxdpdabbles #dauntless matchmaker #Part 3 #Dead tired #Tim is a simp #Danny is stupid #Tim thinks Danny is crazy but cute #The Waynes are watching him be a simp #Damian realizing that he did too good of a job

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fireboltposts · 3 months ago

Text

When SKZ finds your well-organized Korean notes

A/N : This idea randomly popped up in my head when I was learning my Spanish. Picture credit to the owner. Also this is the first time I've tried writing for all the members together.

• Where each member suddenly stumbles upon your neat and well-organized notes for learning Korean. They knew you were studying but didn't realise you went so far as to maintaining an old diary of 2013 for writing down random notes, swear words, grammar rules, slangs, idioms, vocabulary, tests where you had graded yourself with a red pen with marks like 16/20 or 19/25 and your signature like a school teacher and even some phrases learnt from the boys.

• Chris

He found your Korean diary on a random Tuesday evening while he was searching for his laptop charger. He wondered what on earth were you doing with a 2013 diary when he had gifted you the latest one on New Year's Day. Not one to read someone's diary, but his interest was piqued because of a SKZ bookmark hanging out of the diary. He opens it curiously, flipping through the pages that contained grammar rules, self-graded tests with your signature (which he can't help but giggle at), and even an entire section labelled "what Channie taught me", containing phrases and words he had previously taught you, that he himself had forgotten, which little notes on the side in pencil on how to pronounce stating that "Channie says it like this". He smiles to himself, feeling a surge of warmth as he realizes you're working so hard to understand and connect with him and the group on a deeper level. He chuckles at the part where you had stated that he says a word in a certain tone and he's a little surprised to see how observant you were to how he spoke Korean that you had noticed such little things even he didn't know. He is moved by your dedication and effort. It meant so much to him that you wanted to understand him better and also the rest of the boys.

• Minho

Minho's looking around your room when his eyes fall on a notebook open on your bed, with pages full of neat handwriting. Intrigued, he walks over and begins to look through them, noting how well-organized and thoughtful each section is. The color-coding in different color ink, the little drawings, and the way you’ve broken down each concept and it’s clear you’ve put a lot of effort into learning. He spots a few phrases he's used like "Don't be silly" written in Hangul. He feels a strange pride in knowing that you had gone through so much trouble of noting down things he has said and how observant you were to the other members' words and he feels a soft warmth on his chest. When you notice him looking, he gives you an approving nod. "Your notes are impressive," he says, with a faint smile. "You’re serious about learning, huh? I respect that." He’s not overly sentimental, but there’s a hint of admiration in his tone. "Just make sure you don’t learn any bad habits from the guys. I'll teach you the proper way to speak," he adds with a teasing glint in his eyes and you roll your eyes with a smile on your lips.

• Changbin

Changbin flips your notes open curiously and starts reading. The first thing he notices is how neatly you've written grammar concepts and phrases with example sentences using names from the K industry like "Changbin ate an apple", "Joshua cannot swim", "Jaejoong, go to the market !". As he goes through, he can’t help but feel a sense of admiration for your dedication. You’ve put in so much work, and it’s clear that you’re genuinely interested in understanding the language. He chuckles when he sees a section labeled "Cute Phrases learnt from Binnie," where you’ve written down a few things he’s said, noting them with little hearts and stars. When you return, he grins at you, holding up the notebook. "These are really impressive," he says, giving you an encouraging smile. "You’ve put in a lot of effort. If you keep it up, you’ll be fluent in no time!". There’s a hint of pride in his voice as he looks at you, feeling touched that you care so much about connecting with him and the rest of the group in their language.

• Hyunjin

Hyunjin finds your notes when you’re both sitting on the couch. He’s flipping through some things on the table when he spots them, open to a section on descriptive words. At first, he’s just curious, but as he goes through them, he realizes how detailed your notes are. You’ve even added pronunciation tips in English and marked down specific tones you’d heard him use, adding little side notes in pencil like, "Try to sound softer, like Hyunjin." Seeing his own influence in your notes makes his heart race. He’s touched to know you’re paying so much attention to the language, even noting his speaking style. There’s something endearing about how you’re working so hard to speak Korean well, not just to understand him but to match his expressions too. "Wow, you’re really serious about this, huh?" he murmurs, glancing over at you with a soft smile. He leans in closer, resting his chin on his hand as he flips through more pages, admiring your hard work. "If you ever want a study buddy, I’d be happy to help. Maybe I could teach you some new words too… you know, personal ones that only we would know or swear words, whichever you want", he winks, enjoying the thought of having something special shared between the two of you.

• Han

Han stumbles upon your notes one day while you’re hanging out. He flips through them casually, but the more he reads, the more impressed he becomes. Your notes are detailed, organized, and incredibly thorough. You’ve written down vocabulary, grammar rules, and even broken down complex sentences into parts. He’s particularly amused when he sees a section labeled "Funny Phrases" with things he’s said, complete with little notes like, "Han said this when he was being silly." He feels a warmth in his chest, touched that you’ve been paying attention to his quirks and speech patterns. When he looks up at you, there’s a playful glint in his eye. "I didn’t know you were working this hard!" he exclaims. "Your notes are so good; I think I’d actually want to borrow them myself!". Han’s admiration is genuine, and he’s a little flustered by how much he enjoys seeing your dedication. "Anytime you want to practice with me, let me know," he offers, giving you a shy smile. "We could make it fun, you know, with little games and stuff and next time I'll take a test and put my signature on there and an A+ and a smiley if you get it all correct", he said with a wink.

• Felix

When Felix flips through the pages and finds your neat handwriting in Hangul , he's charmed by how much dedication you've put into it, especially when he saw you noted expressions and idioms he used labelled as "Sunshine Lixie's expressions", complete with little stars. His heart flutters at the sight. "Your notes are amazing!" he says, his eyes lighting up. "It’s so cool that you’re learning, and it’s adorable how you even have a section just for my phrases." He pats your shoulder proudly, feeling touched and a bit shy. "I could help you practice anytime you want," he adds, his voice softening, secretly hoping to spend more time with you.

• Seungmin

Seungmin finds your notes by accident when he’s helping you clean up after a study session. He notices them lying open on the table and can’t resist taking a look. As he reads through the pages, he’s impressed by your organization and the level of detail. You’ve made vocabulary lists, highlighted grammar points, and even written down little notes to help you remember certain words. He brings it up later, saying, "Your notes are really impressive. You’re actually doing a great job, and if you keep at it, I think you’ll become fluent in no time." He looks at you thoughtfully, adding, "If you ever need help with pronunciation or understanding something or maybe adding some more to the "Seungmin's Tips" list, I’d be happy to help."

• Jeongin

When the maknae finds your neat diary that you've kept for learning Korean, he is a little surprised but also very impressed at you progress as the self graded "test scores" went higher and as he also remembers some difficult words meant for upper Intermediate learners you'd used a week ago while talking to him. He chuckles when he sees his own "Innie’s Words" section, where you’ve noted down phrases he’s said. Later, he brings it up with a smile, saying, "Your notes are really detailed. It’s so cool that you’re putting in so much effort to learn our language." There’s a sense of pride in his voice as he looks at you, genuinely impressed by your dedication. "If you ever need help, I’m here. I could even teach you some more slang, if you’re up for it Y/N ! And next time, I hope to see you score full marks on your little self tests".

A/N : Do like, comment, reblog and follow if you liked it. You can find the rest of my masterlist here.

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sincerelyneo · 4 months ago

Text

sunflower vol 6 | l.hc

“i couldn’t want you anymore, kiss in the kitchen like it’s a dance floor”

💿now playing: sunflower vol 6 by harry styles

❯ summary: Let’s make dinner together, he said. I’ll behave, he said. Honestly, you should have known that was a lie because when it comes to you, Haechan is never on his best behaviour. That’s why he’s sneaking sly touches every time you complete a step in your recipe.

❯ pairings: haechan x fem!reader

❯ genre: established relationship, fluff, suggestive content

❯ words: 1.4k

❯ tags: tooth rotting fluff, domesticated fluff, swearing, kissing, pet names, literally just hyuck being so boyfriend and them dancing in the kitchen together.

an: i’m a firm believer that harry styles wrote this song about haechan

Hyuck bursts through the front door with a sense of urgency, unable to contain his excitement. It's been months since he last saw you, his girlfriend whom he's more than just a little obsessed with, and the door feels like just another barrier in his way. He thought his job, which requires him to tour for half the year, was obstacle enough.

"Baby, I'm home!" he calls out eagerly, scanning the apartment for any sign of you. Disappointment flickers across his face when he doesn't immediately spot you waiting for him with open arms.

The honeyed tone of his voice instead echoes from the living room to your bedroom, drawing you to him like a magnet. Without wasting a moment, you rush down the stairs and wrap your arms around his neck.

You melt into each other effortlessly, as you always do. Your bodies seem custom-made for one another, fitting together perfectly. You've missed his touch, his warmth, in a way that FaceTime calls could never fulfil. Nothing compares to the physical presence of your Hyuck.

You plant a gentle kiss on the soft skin of his cheek before pulling back to meet his gaze. "You weren't supposed to be home for another four hours. What's going on?"

"I got an earlier flight because I missed you so much," he replies with a grin.

You shake your head, but a smile still tugs at your lips. You've never encountered a man more smitten and in love than him. It's endearing, really. It's the kind of love his friends would tease him about if he didn't take so much pride in it.

You run a hand through your hair, trying to process the fact that he's here in your living room. You're happy, of course, but you had hoped to be all dolled up for his arrival, not standing in old pyjamas after months apart

"Well... are you hungry? We could order takeout if you want. You can tell me all about that tour that's kept you away from me for what feels like forever," you suggest with a smile, and his eyes soften at the invitation

"Babyyy," he whines, catching you off guard a little. His hands slide to your back, pulling you in by your waist as he plants a kiss on top of your head. "Can't we make dinner together?"

You raise an eyebrow, pulling away to look up at him, his hands still wrapped around you. "By 'we,' you mean me?"

"Of course not. You know I make an excellent sous chef. Restaurants should be grateful I chose music instead of culinary arts.”

You shake your head, with a grin. "We never get anything done when we cook together. Remember last time?"

He smirks, recalling the memory. "It's not my fault you asked me to get something out of the fridge, and when I turned around, you were bent over the counter showing your ass to me. I couldn't help myself."

You give him a deadpan look but he only smirks more.

"And if we're being honest, I remember you loving it." His arms cross over his chest, the satisfaction in him beaming from knowing that you know he's right. You did enjoy those steamy cooking sessions, but not right now; you're hungry.

"Please, baby, I missed your cooking. Nothing any restaurant can make compares to your food," he pleads. "I'll be on my best behaviour."

And although you know better, and you know that there’s no such thing as "best behaviour" with Lee Donghyuck, you still can't resist. And so, you give in.

Surprisingly, everything goes well. Hyuck isn’t too much of a distraction; instead, he follows your instructions without protest. He grabs ingredients, chops vegetables, and even compliments the head chef— and nothing catches fire.

Progress is being made.

That is until your boyfriend finishes the little tasks you assign him and wraps his arms around your waist while you chop ingredients.

“Hyuck… you promised—”

His plush lips melt against your neck so delicately that you nearly chop off your finger—though Hyuck won’t let that happen, gripping your hands to steady them. He chuckles softly, his lips quirking against your skin.

“I know what I said, Y/N,” he teases. “I’m just trying to help.”

“You’re not trying to help; you’re trying to distract.”

He laughs, “You know… I bought a new record while I was on tour. It has that one song you love.”

You pause, setting the knife down and pressing your hands against the counter as you turn to face him.

“Oh yeah?”

He nods, “I think we should play it while you cook.”

“I thought we were supposed to be cooking together?”

Hyuck simply chuckles as he heads over to the record player in your kitchen and sets the record spinning. Soft guitar notes fill the space, and despite your need to focus, you can’t help but smile.

You watch as he dances across the cool kitchen tiles, a smirk on his lips, until he stands behind you. His hand finds your elbow, gently pulling you backwards.

The laugh that spills from you is warm and Hyuck matches it as his hands drift down your arms to your hands, fingers threading together before he pulls you back into his broad, solid chest.

Strong arms cross your own chest, and the two of you start to sway against each other. The music is quiet and grainy and mixed with the sound of your feet creaking on the floor.

The two of you float back and forth—a stream of sunlight streams in through the high window. You close your eyes and let the light shift across your eyelids. Hyuck’s lips find your ear, singing softly. The sound was gentle and sweet and you could hear the smile in his voice.

“I’ll never forget the moment I realised I love you.”

You sink further against him, your voice humming as you ask, “Yeah? When was that?”

“The minute I saw you,” he breathes. “You were dancing so carelessly, and I knew then—you were my person. You’ll always be my person.”

You’re grinning like an idiot despite rolling your eyes as you let go of Hyuck’s hands and turn around in his arms. You slide your palms up his chest to wind around the back of his neck, pressing your foreheads together.

“You’re so cheesy.”

“And you love it,” he responds easily, smiling with his eyes closed as he continues to sway with you in the tiny kitchen of your tiny apartment. You nod, leaning forward to knock your noses together gently with an exaggerated sigh.

“I do. And I love you. I wouldn’t want to spend a minute loving anybody else.”

Hyuck hums, pulling you in closer and starts walking you backwards slowly until your hips rest against the counter. He dips down, curling his hands around the backs of your thighs and effortlessly hoists you up to sit on the edge. You open your eyes and run your fingers through his hair, twisting a perfect little strand around your finger just the way he likes it.

He looks back at you, eyes filled with patience and love. Then he leans in, drawing you into a soft, lazy kiss—because he’s finally home, because he can, because he loves doing it, because it’s all he ever wants to do from now until forever. You melt against his chest, pressing up into the contact. When you break apart, Hyuck rests his lips against your temple, swaying gently with you in his arms.

“I’m so in love with you,” He says softly.

You rest your cheek against his shoulder and brush your nose back and forth against his neck as you close your eyes and smile.

“I love you too, Hyuck.”

You linger in the warmth of his touch until the sharp beeping of the oven interrupts the moment. You pull away slightly, frowning at the oven’s display.

“Ugh, I forgot I put that in there!” you exclaim, glancing over your shoulder to see smoke beginning to curl from the edges.

Hyuck chuckles, but there is no concern creeping into his voice. “Can’t believe my first meal home is going to be charcoal.”

You rush to the oven, Hyuck close behind. As you open the door, a plume of smoke escapes, and you cough.

“This is totally your fault! What happened to you not being distracting?” you ask, raising an eyebrow.

He shrugs, leaning down to plant another soft kiss on your lips. “What can I say? I’m obsessed with you.”

#haechan fluff #haechan x reader #nct fluff #nct dream fluff #nct 127 fluff #nct x reader #nct dream x reader #nct 127 x reader #nct one shot #kpop fluff #haechan imagines #nct imagines #kpop imagines

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hettyoon · 2 months ago

Text

❥︎ Characters; Rafayel, Xavier Game; Love and deepspace

❥︎ Genre; fluff !! Prompt; 𝙃𝙊𝙒 𝙏𝙃𝙀𝙔 𝙒𝘼𝙆𝙀 𝙔𝙊𝙐 𝙐𝙋 || established relationship || 2nd pov

❥︎ Warnings; none !!

❥︎ Notes; this is either going to be a new start for my writing era or I'm going to post this and dip for another year or two, we'll see. (also only rafayel chibi this post cause I haven't had the time to draw xavier <\3)

MAIN M.LIST

❥︎ 𝐑𝐀𝐅𝐀𝐘𝐄𝐋;

Your chest rose and fell steadily with each breath, eyes closed, head cradled by the soft material of your pillow. This was, undoubtedly, the most peaceful moments of your morning, and you lay there in your slumber undisturbed—until a soft, hairy something brushed against your face. It tickled your nose, making you abruptly turn your head to the side. Your hands shot up, rubbing the itching trail left behind by the unwelcome touch. Slowly, you opened your eyes, wanting to uncover the culprit behind your less-than-pleasant awakening.

Of course, that being said, you already knew who it would be. There was only one person who would come into your room unannounced this early in the morning.

A groan escaped your lips as your gaze locked onto the set of pink eyes looking right back at you. "Rafayel! What was that for? And what did you just place on my face right now."

The purple haired man, who was sitting on the drawer right next to your bedside, crossed his hands while lifting his brow at you, as if offended by your words. "Don't look at me like that, you're the one who told me you had an important meeting today, and yet here you are still asleep in your bed at 10am. Do you know how many times I tried calling you before I came here?" He huffed out the last part as if annoyed by the matter, although you knew it was all an act.

"Rafayel, the meeting doesn't even start until 1pm, what are you talking about?" You had a strong feeling he was just using it as an excuse to come see you, but you spared the man the embarrassment of saying that out loud. Plus you thought it was kind of cute of him to do so. Not that there was any need for him to hear that though, his ego is already big enough as it is.

"Details, details." He waved off your words with his hands.

You sighed, simply uses to his antics at this point. Well, it was about time you woke up anyways, but still, "You didn't answer my initial question."

"Oh, you're talking about this?" A small white feather was revealed from between his fingers. "I thought it would be useful for waking you up. I called out your name multiple times and you didn't answer, you have quite the thick sleep."

"Where did you even get that fro– you know what, nevermind. I don't even want to know." Using your feet you kicked the blankets off from your body, sitting up to stretch your body and get yourself ready for the day. "I was just exhausted because of yesterday's mission, I'm not usually that tired."

Rafayel let out a smug grin at your reply, as if he'd been waiting for those exact words to escape your mouth. "I know. Which is why I got us these." He reached out behind him and pulled out two colourful tickets.

Well that you definitely did not see coming. You couldn't believe your eyes, is that really what you were seeing in his hands? "Rafayel, are those for the resort I mentioned to you the other day?" The shock was very evident in your tone and you could practically feel the pride radiating off him. Honestly, you didn't even know how he had heard you talking about that resort the other day. You were just chilling on his couch while he was painting, scrolling through your feed and simply commented out loud on how sweet it looked, it wasn't even a real conversation. You didn't think he would remember, let alone buy you both tickets for it!

It then dawned on you what you had planned upcoming for you these next days and your happiness faltered a bit. "That's really sweet of you Rafayel. I don't even know how you remembered that, but I still have a bunch of meetings and missions I am supposed to take on this week and–"

"Nuh uh uh." Before you could even finish your sentence Rafayel moved to stand right next to you and placed his finger on top of your mouth to seal it shut. "Don't worry your head about all of that, I already got it all sorted out." One of his eyes closed as he shot a wink at you with a grin on his face.

"Sorted out...what do you mean?"

"I asked your captain to let you off for this week, of course. And since you were always so hard working and the wanderer attacks have been on the low lately, she didn't have any problems with that. I made sure to book us the best room too so you can sleep as much as you like when we get there."

Your eyes slightly teared up at his words and at the lengths your lover would go to pull off these sweet surprises for you. "Thank you Rafayel, truly." You wrapped your hands around him in a tight hug, hiding you face between the crook of his neck to conceal your happy tears. "I love you so much."

His hands instantly wrapped around your body returning the hug back even tighter. "Of course, anything for you. And I love you too."

❥︎ 𝐗𝐀𝐕𝐈𝐄𝐑;

"My love."

Your mind was drifting away in a dreamless sleep when you heard the sound of a faint voice calling out to you right beside your head. A few seconds passed before you then heard it again, "My love." Which made you begrudgingly peel your eyes open with a groan to lock eyes with your lover who was plopped down on the floor of your room, leaning on the edge of your bed to make himself eye level with you.

His eyes seem to light up at your physical response to his calls and a soft smile grows on his face. "Ah good, you're awake finally."

"Xavier," The tiredness still lingering around your voice, you let out a small yawn while one of your hands reached out to cup his cheek in you hands, your thumb going back and forth in gentle gestures along soft skin beneath it. "How long have you been here?" Both you and Xavier had keys to each other's apartment, so it wasn't much of a surprise to see him in your room first thing in the morning. Usually, though, it was the other way around, with you being the one to wake him from his nightly rest.

The guy tilted his head seemingly in thought, taking a quick glance at the digital clock sitting on your desk that had the time displayed in glowing white numbers. "Hmm, I've been trying to wake you up for the past 20 minutes, I think?"

Your hand dropped from his face as you shot up from your bed. "20 minutes?! Oh my god, Xavier why didn't you just shake me awake or something." Was he really here calling out to you for that long? Listen you knew you were exhausted from yesterday's mission and the extensive paperwork that followed but not to this extent!

Xavier didn't really seem to bat an eye at your look of surprise and simply continued on with his words. "Well, I tried to wake you up at first but you looked so peaceful in your sleep I didn't want to disturb you. I tried to go make something for us to have as breakfast in the kitchen but I couldn't figure out how to turn on your stove so." He scratched his cheek sheepishly at the end of his sentance but you inwardly let out a sigh of relief. Oh you were so thankful he did not figure out how to turn on that stove of yours. God knows what kind of explosion you would've woken up to if he did.

Nevertheless, you still chuckled at his silliness. Plus your heart couldn't help but warm up at the sweet gesture, even if he didn’t get to fufill it. "Thank you, Xavier. But next time you can just leave the cooking to me, okay? You know what, now that you mention it I'm in the mood for some pancakes, how about I make us some?"

Xavier rose up from his place on the floor and made himself comfortable next to you on your bed. His hand lifted up to comb through the strands of your hair trying to tame the pieces of bed hair that you acquired from your slumber. "That sounds amazing, love." You felt the warmth of his body get closer as he leaned down to place a gentle kiss on the corner of your eye. A little quirk of his that he likes to do a lot.

Your eye crinkled at the gesture and you dropped your head to rest it on his shoulder after he pulled away, nuzzling into the wooly fabric of his jumper. "Next time you should be more firm with waking me up. I don't mind, you know. Plus I feel bad for having you wait for me to wake up like that."

You could feel the white haired man shake his head in disagreement at your words. "It's okay, you deserve the rest anyways, and your presence alone is enough for me." His voice a soft tone as a loving kiss found its way to the top of your head. You cuddled even deeper into his side, placing a kiss of your own onto the clothing against his shoulder. Truly, what did you do to deserve someone as sweet as him in your life.

Although unbeknownst to you, your lover was having the exact same thought as you in that exact moment.

❥︎ As always, comments and reblogs are highly appreciated <33

Hetty

#love and deepspace x reader #love and deep space x reader #lnds x reader #lads x reader #rafayel x reader #xavier x reader #l&ds rafayel #l&ds xavier #love and deepspace rafayel #love and deepspace xavier #l&ds x reader

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sleepyangelkami · 1 year ago

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hey, I want to request a long one shot about ellie x cheerleader!reader, but ellie is like a type of emo? idk, she just use very dark clothes, accessories and she's grumpy, meanwhile the reader is the opposite, she is popular and social (she's not mean). strangers to very close friends (also about the social rejection that Ellie had). and it ends with rough smut (lmao sorry, I'm begging)

FUCK THE CHEERLEADERS e.williams

☆ WORD COUNT - 7.8K

ELLIE WILLIAMS X FEM!READER

☆ SUMMARY - for as long as ellie's known she's hated just about everything and everyone. she hated the school she went to and the people in it. and she hated those prissy cheerleaders. what happens when one of them starts changing her mind?

☆ WARNINGS - slight abby anderson x reader (briefly mentioned), smut, slowburn, dom!ellie, sub!reader, mean!ellie, manhandling, fingering (r. receiving), oral (e. receiving), scissoring, squirting, rough sex, slight loser!ellie, praise kink, overstimulation, dirty talk (mmm), jealousy sex, slight innocent!reader?, swearing, smoking, getting high, lowk bullying, ellie is an abby!hater (i'm sorry.), homophobia, petnames, use of y/n, intended lower case, nothing i write is ever proofread 🩷

ellie williams hated just about everything in the world, it seemed. it was as if a scowl had been engraved on her brows as she walked through the halls of the school. she hated a lot of things, she hated this school. but more importantly, those damn cliches. those jocks and their stupid cheerleaders hanging underneath their arms, it made ellie sick, it made her scowl deepen.

it wasn't unusual for ellie to be clad in her black beanie, black hoodie and black ripped jeans. what could she say? she liked black. with her sketchbook sitting underneath her arm and her backpack hanging from one shoulder, she managed to make her way towards the east end of the school, where her ugly red locker lay. "why the long face?"

the voice had belonged to dina woodward who stood next to jesse (does this man have a last name?) they were both hand in hand next to ellie's locker. the three had lockers next to one another, had since freshman year. the two may have been the only two people ellie tolerated at all. they were her best friends. even so, she found herself scowling at the way their hands were intertwined.

"stupid fucking cheerleaders." already, jesse was rolling his eyes while the girl forced her locker open, this wasn't the first time he's heard that. "thinkin' they run the school, give me a break with their fucking pom poms and the skirts up their asses―"

"we get it ellie." jesse rolled his eyes, shutting his locker door. "what'd they do this time?"

ellie hated the jocks enough but she knew that at least they took pride in being assholes. but the cheerleaders? they walked around school with no consequences, wearing a sugar coated smile that made them look like nothing short of angels. they hid behind the facade of being good people. at least the jocks could admit they were dickheads. the cheerleaders pretended to be something they weren't. and for some reason, it made ellie hate them even more. "what do they ever do." she mumbled. "'here's lessie williams on!' 'draw anything new today williams!' 'let us see inside your sketchbook williams!'" she fawned a high pitch voice. "Like god! it was freshman year can't anyone get over it!"

dina and jesse were conscious of the couple people that had turned their heads to look at them but they knew that one sharp glare from ellie and they'd turn away again.

you see, in freshman year nobody really knew ellie. sure, they knew her but they didn't know her. she was quiet, always sat in the back of the classroom, always scribbling something down on a piece of paper or in her sketchbook. the one thing that brought her joy, the one thing she actually enjoyed doing was drawing.

and they ripped it away from her.

stupid stephanie meadows, who, in all her glory, decided to rip the sketchbook out of her hands and show the rest of the cheerleaders what the girl had been drawing. she had meant it as harmless teasing, ellie was sure. but the girl just so happened to be drawing some... female anatomy.

then birthed the name lessie williams.

she hated those damned cheerleaders ever since.

"i'm really sorry, ellie." jesse wore a sympathetic look as his brows furrowed lightly. there really wasn't anything they could do. they would stand up for her but that'd only drag them down. ellie understood this, she didn't expect anything from them. "that sucks."

but ellie didn't respond to his sympathy or his pity, merely slamming the locker door shut. "man, fuck the cheerleaders." her infamous catchphrase. she wore it out, used it every single time those damned cheerleaders were around. every time, there was venom laced in her voice. she didn't just hate them, she loathed them entirely.

but as soon as the venomous words slipped from her mouth, there was a sound of honey laughter that invaded her ears. "hi, dina!" there you stood, a sweet smile attached to your lips as you passed the three. you had two maybe three folders tucked in your arms, light purples and pinks with your name in big writing. y/n l/n.

"hi, y/n." it was merely a greeting in passing but ellie's blood boiled. her eyes fell on your outfit. your cheerleader outfit. the outfit was black and white, long sleeved but tight, showing off all of your curves and giving you all the attention that you didn't want. your skirt was short, too short, flimsy material showing ellie all that she shouldn't see. you had a light pink bow sitting at the top of your half up half down ponytail, curled hair falling behind your back. the colour of the bow matched your cheer leading shoes which were white but had pink stripes through them along with your baby pink leg warmers. you were the only cheerleader with a bit of colour.

you left ellie's sight as soon as you came, she turned to dina with a look of poison in her eye. "what? are you guys friends now? you gonna join the cheer squad?"

jesse took a step back, muttering something about not getting involved. he was well aware of what happened last time. ellie's wrath was not something you wanted to get involved with. "no, ellie, i'm not going to join the cheer squad." dina was rolling her eyes over the stupid encounter. "she happens to sit next to me in biology and i was saying hello."

"yeah, to y/n fucking l/n." everyone knew who you were, the prissy cheerleader who always wore smiles for everyone she met. often times being tucked under the arm of the captain of the girl's soccer team, abby anderson.

dina wasn't having it. "she's never actually said anything to you, ellie, she's never even been there when it happened and i'm sure if she was, she'd say something about it. she's really nice once you give her a shot."

ellie could have laughed in dina's face. "you're kidding." she was a cheerleader. "they're the same, every single one of them." and could you blame the girl for being so defensive? after all, it was her that got the horrid bullying and harrasment for so many years, not dina, not jesse, ellie. they didn't know what it was like to be in that ring of fire, they hadn't the slightest idea. "you know what, fuck this, i'm going to class."

dina was rolling her eyes. "ellie!" but the girl didn't turn around, holding her bag and her sketchbook close. "ellie, c'mon, don't be like this!" but she never spared her a glance.

jesse puffed out a breath. "just leave her." he mumbled to the girl next to him. "she'll be back."

and she was back. she was back before lunchtime. you see, that was the thing about having little to no friends. for ellie, dina and jesse, it didn't matter what was going on. whether dina was arguing with ellie, whether jesse and ellie were in a scuffle, whether dina and jesse were on their hundredth break. truth was, they only really had eachother. so, no matter what was happening, their lunch times were spent together at their separate round table in the cafeteria.

ellie was picking at her food when she saw her again. when she saw you.

you were walking up to their table sort of nervously, toying with your sleeves. ellie's expression immediately faltered. "is she walking over here?" dina and jesse looked up, glancing to you who had so many eyes on you. ellie could see the table of jocks and cheerleaders all staring at you, they simply couldn't take their eyes away. "she better not be fucking walking over here, she's not sitting―"

"ellie." dina whispered harshly as she shoved her foot forward, hitting ellie square in the calf. she winced, holding in the pained cringe.

"uhm, hi." you glanced back to the group of cheerleaders that were all staring. sometimes, you wished to be invisible, it was like there were always people watching. you felt like an actor on a stage and constantly having an audience. "dina, i was wondering if i could talk to you."

when you'd uttered the words, you sort of assumed dina would get up and walk with you. at least you hoped she would. you got the feeling that her friend didn't like you, the death stares she was throwing you, the glares that were burning into your head. not that you understood, though, you didn't even know her name.

"yeah, sure." she shoved to the side, allowing room for you to sit down. you awkwardly looked at the spot between her and her brunette friend wearing a black hat. the girl had looked away since you brought yourself over to the table. "guys this is y/n." she introduced as if they hadn't known who you were anyway. "y/n, this is jesse." he gave a smile to you to which you couldn't help but smile back softly. "and... ellie." she didn't lift her head. "ellie." she kicked her underneath the table once more.

ellie lifted her eyes, sending a glare your way before turning her head back down. you frowned but kept quiet. you didn't understand why the girl didn't like you but who were you to judge, you can't change how someone feels about you. besides, she didn't know you, you still had time to get her to warm up to you. perhaps she was like that with everyone.

in a way, she was.

"I was wondering if i could borrow your biology notes again over the weekend?" you had hopeful eyes, a little sympathy in them. "i'm sorry, i know i've asked like three weeks in a row now, i just really need to get this done." you had been attempting to rewrite all of your notes since the start of the year, you had realised how much you'd fallen behind in biology after you took cheerleading a bit too seriously.

dina waved you off, a big smile stretched on her lips. "yeah, no worries, you can drop by saturday?"

you grinned up at the girl. "yeah, i'll swing by after practice." practice. ellie could feel another eye roll coming on. "thank you so much." you began getting up from your seat next to the girls.

there wasn't much room, your leg brushed against ellie. you expected her to retract with a hiss as if you'd burned her, as if you were carrying a plague. instead, she froze. she didn't look disgusted, nor did she look happy, she didn't look much of... anything. she just froze.

in ellie's mind, she was cursing herself. if another pretty girl had brushed up against her, she would have smirked and leaned into it. she was cursing herself because she almost had. for a second, she forgot who you were. she forgot that the only reason she could feel the smooth skin of your leg was because of that stupid uniform.

"it was nice meeting you both." you smiled, mostly to ellie. you thought if you showed off your pearly whites she may see that you mean no harm.

when she didn't look up again, you sighed before leaving. what was so wrong with you that the girl hated you so much?

𝜗𝜚

ellie didn't need a fucking math tutor.

that's what she'd been telling herself for the past thirty minutes. she had been in her car, a rusted up van given to her by joel, passed down onto her. mr. gray had told her that she was flunking math and with the grades she was getting, if she kept them up he'd have to choice but to hold her back.

she couldn't risk that. so, he got her a tutor. at first, she got angry, stating that there was no need, she didn't need a tutor. she'd figure something out by herself. maybe jesse or dina could help her? but the man assured her that even they were only a mere average. he'd arranged a date for the first tutoring session at the local coffee shop, he stated that the tutor was the smartest kid he had ever taught. at least in math.

when she heard that you were her tutor, she downright flipped out.

yet, here she was in her van, stuffing the text books that lay on the seat back into the bag and opening the door. she couldn't afford to stay back, she'd have to make it work.

even if that meant you becoming her tutor.

she could imagine it now. you'd run thirty minutes late and be sat in the front of a fancy car, a porsche or something and you'd sit her in the darkest corner of the coffee shop.

yet, as she walked in, ten minutes early, you were already sat there. you were clad in a light jeans and a large woollen sweater, an off white, kind of brown. it was odd not seeing you in that uniform of yours. ellie awkwardly found herself ordering a coffee, her eyes drifting off to you. you had a couple text books open, notebooks too with a glass sitting next to you, pink straw peeking out.

"uh, hi." the sound of her voice caused you to jump before turning around to see her, smiling softly. she did not return the smile, sitting herself down at the booth you were in. right next to the window, the place that received the most light in the entire coffee shop. "you're early." she commented, mumbling beneath her breath a "probably cause of the porsche."

at the sound of your honey laugh, she looked up. your smile was wide and you shook your head. "no, i took my bike." you nodded outside the window to the little turquoise bike that sat in front of the cafe, little basket sitting in the front. "left the porsche in my garage." the sound of the joke nearly had ellie's lips curling upwards. nearly. she stopped herself. "uhm, we don't have to start just yet, you know, cause we're both early."

ellie barely muttered out an "alright." before setting her books on the table.

"what're you drinking?" you questioned quizzically.

"huh?" she glanced to the coffee cup next to her.

you shrugged your shoulders. "I think you can tell a lot from a person by what they drink. mine's a frappe, no coffee." your smile was a little lopsided. "makes me too hyper. what about you?"

"coffee." she deadpanned. "black."

"that's nice." you shuffled around awkwardly at a failed attempt of soothing down your own embarrassment. "you come here often?"

"look." ellie wasn't in the mood for your chit-chat, or anyone's for that matter. but you just so happened to be the one sitting in front of her at that given moment. "we don't need to do this whole small talk thing, i'm here 'cause i'm flunking math not because i'm trying to have it on with abby anderson's little girlfriend."

your brows furrowed, a little taken aback. "I'm not her girlfriend." you mumbled. "let's just get started, then." and so you pushed the chunky text book her way.

a couple moments passed you by. it was almost complete silence as you looked over the sums ellie had done. she was strumming the pencil against the table and waiting for you to finish. when you did, you wore a sloppy grin. "you got 'em all right." you spoke, pride in your voice. "well done, they were really hard." they weren't hard, ellie knew that. they were the basic sums, the easy ones that would soon lead into all the algebra she could never understand. but you were trying. really trying.

you gave her a couple more on the next chapter, awaiting her finish as you read through your own notes. she noted the fact that you didn't take out your phone to flick through your messages, or sigh loudly looking at the clock. there wasn't any rush or pressure.

she felt her insides twist a little. perhaps she was being a bit harsh earlier. "every saturday." she mumbled catching your attention, you hummed in question. "every saturday at one o clock, i come here... to draw."

your eyes lit up a little. "you draw?" ellie's heart stuttered. you didn't know? if you didn't know she drew then could it be possible that you hadn't heard the stephanie meadows situation at all? could dina have been right when she said that you truly were different?

"uh, yeah." she murmured, too busy thinking over the situation. what was happening? "yeah, i draw."

by the end of the session, you'd learned not much more about ellie other than the fact that she really did need this tutoring. perhaps it was a good thing she had been paired with you and not someone else. you knew that if you were working with ellie, patience was required.

you were walking out the door together when the bell dinged slightly, you had to go one way to get to your bike, she had to go the other to get to her car. "ellie?" she turned, hands in her pockets and satchel sitting on her shoulder. "could i get your number?" her brows pinched together and you almost slapped yourself for the way her face scrunched up. "don't look too excited, i mean for the next tutoring session, mr. gray isn't gonna set up any more for us."

"uh, yeah." she fished into her back pocket, grabbing out a pen. "do you have a piece of paper?" You merely shoved your sleeve up, handing her your arm. she looked at you quizzingly before scribbling down the digits onto your arm. "Just... delete it after."

you pressed your lips into a thin line. "wasn't planning on keeping it."

𝜗𝜚

ellie was fucking furious.

her feet were practically stomping up the driveway of dina woodwards house as she shoved her fist against the door, harshly pounding on it.

a confused and concerned dina met her eyes soon after, she opened the door and the girl allowed herself in. "them fucking cheerleaders, dina! i'm gonna kill them! i'm gonna fucking kill them!"

"wha― ellie-" dina had seen ellie angry like this countless times, always mouthing on about those cheerleaders and how they're dead if they do something again. she never did stand up for herself.

"you know and you're the one who told me she was different!" dina looked at her with confusion laced in her eyes. "she's just another one of those fucking cunts! fuck the cheerleaders, they're all the fucking same! she's nothing but a bitch―"

"ellie!" dina had cut the girl off. ellie turned around to see you. you were standing with the biology notebook in hand while a gear bag was slung across your shoulder, dressed in your cheerleaders outfit from head to toe. the mere sight of you, of the clothes reminded ellie exactly why she hated you. all of you.

"you." she gave a sneer to the girl. "you told them where i was, didn't you?" you backed up, giving dina a confused and scared look. what was she talking about? "you told them i'd be at the fucking coffee shop and did you see what they did to my fucking car?!" outside the living room window you could see ellie's van pulled up, covered in some kind of a liquid. milk? yoghurt? coffee?

"I d-didn't―" you were backing away from ellie, confused and hurt. had she really thought you'd be behind something like that. "who―"

"who is it ever? stephanie fucking meadows, you're just like her. you know, i actually thought you might have some human decency but i was right, behind all that fucking prissiness, all the smiles and high fucking ponytails, you're all just a carbon copy of each other." you were staring at her in disbelief. "I told you i go there every saturday at one o clock, who shows up? i know you fucking told her!"

"I didn't!" was your feeble argument.

"yes you fucking did!" ellie's hands had come to the top of your arms, shoving you slightly. but she was much stronger than you were, you stumbled back lightly.

"ellie!" dina was grabbing ellie's own upper arm, dragging her away from you. "are you fucking insane?" ellie's pupils were blown wide. "if she said she didn't do it, then she didn't fucking do it, okay?"

"I'm, uhm―" your eyes looked elsewhere. "I'm gonna go, thanks dina." and you were fleeing the scene.

not seconds later did the front door burst open again, jesse running in panting. "ellie, i am so sorry." ellie and dina looked at him in confusion. "stephanie told me that if i didn't tell her where you were, she was gonna revoke my place on the soccer team and you know the coach is her dad. I didn't have any other choice."

dina was glaring at ellie, a sick look in her face. "looks like you owe someone an apology, doesn't it."

ellie was breathing through her nose.

shit.

𝜗𝜚

ellie was standing at your front door, wrapping her knuckles against it. she had this look on her face making it plain obvious that this was not something she wanted to be doing. you had your location on your phone which is the only reason ellie was able to see where you lived. and how were you going to feel when the girl that just laid hands on you showed up at your front door?

the door opened to reveal you, now dressed in a shorts and tank top. you looked at her expectingly. "uhm, yes?" she didn't miss the way you practically hid yourself behind the door.

she glanced at her own dirtied converse trying to piece together what she was going to say. "i know you didn't tell stephanie where i was." and then there was the mumble of, "I'm sorry."

you blinked at her. "you are?" you got the feeling that sorry wasn't something ellie williams said a lot. and it wasn't, the words were barely even in her vocabulary. yet here she was, apologising on your doorstep, to a cheerleader. you had the effect of making her do a lot of things she couldn't see herself doing.

"yeah." kicking one of the pebbles on the ground. "I am. i shouldn't have yelled at you and i especially shouldn't have laid hands on you." god, what had she been thinking? it was as if she was looking to start a fight with you. with you. ellie had been in a multitude of fights before. but you? nothing but a sunflower.

"It's okay." you pressed your lips into a thin line. you watched as ellie's head snapped upward. it was? "they shouldn't have done what they did to you. you were upset, i get it." you knew stephanie could be a lot of work, you were shocked when ellie had told you but at the same time, you weren't necessarily surprised.

"yeah but i took it out on you." and she shouldn't have, she really shouldn't have.

you shrugged your shoulders, a small smile stretched to your cheeks. "happens to the best of us." but ellie was sure, cheerleader or not, you were an angel in disguise.

she could have walked away then and there, she could have told you that she was thankful for your forgiveness and left. that was the plan, anyway. to leave, she didn't think she'd end up sticking around much longer. she didn't think you'd forgive her in the first place. but then she saw that pretty smile on your face, the way you didn't look at her all disgusted and scared, the look everyone else had been giving her her entire life. it was almost like you looked at her and she meant something. this is what urged the next words to leave her mouth.

"do you wanna go get ice cream?"

sitting in the back of an ice cream parlor with ellie williams was not on your saturday to do list and yet here you were, licking your vanilla ice cream. "i can't go back." the girl uttered. she'd gotten chocolate ice cream and given you a weird look, stating that you were nothing short of 'basic'. "that coffee shop was my place." she groaned, putting her head in her hands. "this is shit." the situation, she meant, the icecream was amazing.

you were squirming on your chair, wondering if you should speak your mind or keep it contained. fuck it. "you know, if you wanted..." her head looked up at you, all nervous and shy. "we could maybe come here on saturdays, you could draw, if you wanted and i could do like homework or something." you blew the air from your cheeks. "that way if someone comes in they won't give you a hard time 'cause you're with me. not that i'll tell anyone we're here."

ellie couldn't help the way her lips tugged upwards. she was staring.

"what?" you let out a breathy laugh.

she shook her head. "you're just not at all what i thought you were."

and that was how it began.

every saturday ended in you and ellie sitting in that ice cream parlor. usually, it began after practice so you were still dressed in your cheer uniform, it ended when the sky was dark and the ice cream place was closing.

you began spending an awful lot of time with ellie. sitting with her and her friends at lunch or even inviting her over some days that it was too cold or too rainy for the ice cream parlor. in doing this, you sort of pulled away from that whole 'clique' that you were in. you couldn't of been happier.

that led to now.

it was one of the days in the summer that was sort of cold so you and ellie decided against ice cream. she was sat across your bed on her stomach, doodling little things into that sketchbook of hers. "els?" she hummed, not looking up. you had called her the nickname accidentally one day but it sort of just stuck after that. "can i ask you something?"

she groaned slightly as she closed her book. "you know i hate it when you start all vague like that." you had been skipping your way over to the bed seeing as you were sitting at your desk beforehand, trying to focus on biology. oh, how you hated the subject.

you sat yourself down next to her, giving her those doey eyes. this couldn't be anything good. "I know, i'm sorry." you mumbled sheepishly. "and i know it's not exactly your thing but i was wondering if maybe you'd... you don't have to i just― if you'd like― would you want to maybe..."

ellie had to chuckle at your nervousness. you were so squeamish and shy at times. she wondered what other times you acted like this. squirmy and struggling for words. "spit it out, angel." those silly names had started a couple weeks ago when ellie 'accidently' said one just to see your reaction. but when your face turned beat red, she couldn't help but continue.

you sighed, placing your hands in your lap. "so, the last game is on saturday and you know, i'm kinda required to go and i obviously wanna spend time with you to so i was wondering if you maybe wanted to go?" scratching the back of your neck. "if they win, abby's hosting some after party at hers and you could bring dina and jesse? not that i'd leave you alone―"

ellie cut you off. "y/n." you were looking at her with those saucer eyes. "if you want me to go, i'm already there."

your lips curved up and a huge grin fell on your face. "oh, thank you, thank you, thank you!!" you slung your arms around her neck, hugging her close.

you were too close. she could feel all of you, the parts she wanted to the most. she ignored it, squeezing her eyes shut as she melted into the hug. if she had it her way, she'd be doing whatever she pleased with you. but the situation was delicate right now, she needed you to warm up to her completely. then, she'd make her move.

𝜗𝜚

ellie regretted saying yes to your offer. she hadn't regretted watching you jump around in that cheerleading outfit, giving her almost a full display of your ass. she hadn't regretted the way you looked at her every time the cheering slowed or you lost focus. there wasn't an inch of regret in her bones when you threw your arms around her at the end when the women's soccer team won their game, your body squishing against her own so she could feel everything. what she did regret though, was coming to this stupid party.

ellie was no stranger to parties, in fact she sort of liked them at times. she always found herself strung across a couch, joint sitting between her fingers.

parties usually relaxed her, allowed her to live on the edge a little.

but right now? her glare was enough to send someone six feet under.

it started out okay, with dina and jesse by her side, you excitedly clinging to her like a puppy. she liked that, the fact that you were so attached. then, as always, dina and jesse go find themselves a room. you stayed with ellie, sitting up on the couch with your knees bent, still in your little cheer costume. she'd offered you the joint to which your face scrunched up, declining the offer politely.

then abby anderson called you up.

now, ellie had sort of anticipated this. captain of the football team, captain of the cheer squad. it made sense. abby was doing her stupid speech that had ellie rolling her eyes, and smoking the joint. leave it to abby to make a party boring.

suddenly, you were under her arm.

you hadn't even been paying attention when abby grabbed you, holding your shoulder close. your eyes instantly flickered to ellie who didn't look nearly as happy as she had with you by her side. her jaw was clenched, hand fisted and eyes narrowed in on you. she brought the joint to her lips again, eyes never leaving yours as she blew the smoke out. she caught on to the way you gulped and looked away.

dare she say, she saw your thighs squeeze together.

when you returned to your seat, ellie wouldn't so much as look at you. you took this as it being time for you both to head home. ellie stated that she would drive you, as she had been the one driving here. you told her you didn't think it was so much of a good idea, she was definitely high.

but the look she turned to give you was enough to have you shrinking back, shutting your mouth.

when you got into the car, sitting in the passenger seat with your hands sitting in your lap, you couldn't help but turn your own eyes towards ellie's whose knuckles were turning white due to how hard she was holding onto the steering wheel. "els?" she didn't so much as hum your way. "are you okay?"

"'m fine." was her deadpanned response.

had you made her mad? was this all over abby? why would it be? could she be... jealous? there was no way in hell. you knew you liked ellie, that much for sure but there was no possibility of her liking you back, you knew this. you'd been so wrapped up in your own thinking that you almost missed the way she had missed the turn off to your house. "els, you missed the turn." craining your head to look at the turn as if it was going to come back.

"I know." she stated, voice still icy cold. "i'm bringing you to mine." joel was out tonight, ellie knew this meaning there was no way in hell this man would be home before two pm the following day.

when ellie opened up the big brown door for you, it occurred to you that you'd never actually been in the house. you glanced around as you felt a cold hand on the small of your back. ellie lead you towards what you assumed was her bedroom. you glanced up, she still hadn't looked at you, her eyes strained straight forward. you stopped walking causing the girl to finally snap her eyes down towards you. you moved to step in front of her. "ellie, are you sure you're okay, i―"

ellie cut you off by her lips crashing into your own.

you didn't have time to think, melting into the kiss. the girl shoved the door behind you open, keeping you in her arms as she led you inside, leaving her foot kick the door closed. she made sure you didn't fall over until your foot hit the edge of your bed where she guided your back onto her sheets.

your head was spinning, the feeling of her rough lips on yours was enough to have you weak at the knees, a feeling pooling in your panties. but you were also confused. when ellie pulled away for air, eyes viewing you and your puffy lips, you took this as your chance. "ellie, wha―"

but she cut you off with a low groan. "just stop talking." and suddenly her lips were on yours again. her hand travelled down underneath you, hands coming up to squeeze at your ass. you whimpered into her mouth, the noise going straight down to her cunt. she held back a grunt as her hand moved to your stomach, flipping up your skirt and letting her fingers travel down further. they trailed up your thighs until they found your clothed cunt, sopping and wet. "f-fuck." ellie stuttered out, she'd expected it to be a little wet, sure, but she had this kind of an effect on you? "you're ruining your cheerleaders outfit, angel." you couldn't contain yourself, hips bucking and a whine falling from your lips. holy shit. ellie wasn't going to be able to contain herself, she'd end up creaming in her pants. "get on your knees."

your big blown out eyes found her own lowly red ones. "what?" nervousness eating at your stomach.

ellie took note of the little worry laced in your eye, she knew you better than you knew yourself. "get on your knees f'me, baby." pressing a little kiss against your neck. but she realised she had been just a little too soft. "now." she spoke, sternly.

you did as you were told, eyes never leaving ellie's as you positoned yourself on the ground underneath her, slight confusion lacing your eyes, mostly excitement. your knees scratched against her old carpet, eyes doey and looking up with enlarged pupils.

ellie bent down, her legs spread in front of you as she tilted your chin up, kissing you roughly. you could feel the hunger in the kiss. "don't like abby looking at you, touching you." you could hear the venom in her voice, her tone changing as if poison had been sat underneath her tongue. "touching what's mine."

you shook your head, eyes wide. "ellie it wasn't like that, she was told to―"

"shh." ellie didn't want to hear it, she especially didn't want to keep talking about abby, not when she had a pretty cheerleader sitting on her knees for her. "jus' say you're sorry 'n put your mouth where it's useful, yeah?"

ellie grabbed your hands, guiding them up to her hips so she could stick your two thumbs down the waistband of both her jeans and her boxers. "'m sorry, els, 'm really sorry." eyes almost watery. ellie helped you pull her jeans and boxers down her legs, letting them pile around her ankles, not caring enough to take them off completely.

"then show me." she spoke, voice a mere mumble, she was trying to stay in control but it was so hard when you were so close to her core. "c'mon, you know what to do."

your hands had sat at her thighs, keeping you propped up as you mouth came close to where she needed you. you looked up at her, then back down to her sopping cunt. breathing out lowly, your breath fell onto her causing her hips to buck. your tongue peeked out of your mouth before you leaned forward, pressing a kitten lick to her cunt. she let out a grunt letting you know that she liked it, with a little confidence you did it again, and again, and again.

you heard a low chuckle through her grunts from above you. "y'so cute." she mumbled, her hand falling into your hair as she tugged it closer. you moaned against her causing vibrations throughout her body. "s-shit." she found herself bucking her hips into your mouth.

you found your tongue moving against her quickly, practically making out with her cunt as your tongue dipped itself into her hole. you didn't really know what you were doing, you were doing what you hoped was right and by the grunts and curses that were falling from her lips, something had to be good. tongue dancing in circles around her clit making her chant your name as she held onto your roots, tugging you impossibly closer.

you sucked at her clit, it caused her entire body to move. "fuck, baby, jus' like that." she bucked her hips into your face, grinding down on it. it was as if she were face fucking you, the thought didn't seem so bad. "shit, don't stop." mumbling things you weren't even paying attention to. your hips were grinding against nothing, searching for release as your tongue worked against the girl.

ellie felt euphoric. she'd dreamt of this very moment a thousand times over, you with your mouth on her. she couldn't contain herself any longer, she knew that if you kept your pace up she was going to cum.

she couldn't. not yet. not before you.

she had so much more planned.

she hadn't even registered the fact that she was pulling you up before she was practically throwing you onto the bed. her big hands messed with the plush of your hips, squishing the fat of your ass as she turned you over so your face was buried in the sheets. "did i do something wrong?" you mumbled with fear in your tone, practically muffled into her sheets.

"no, bunny, you did so well." her mouth pressed kisses against the back of your thighs. she held your ass in the air while your face was practically squished against the pillows. "too well." wet hot and sloppy kisses all against your skin. "wanna have my fun with you now." her fingers moved to your covered cunt, rubbing up and down gently, a moan fell from your lips. "feel good, hm?" she moved to sit up on her knees, towering over you as she played with your pussy from over the cloth. she leaned over you. "tell me what you want." but you merely bucked your hips back. she stopped you by pressing her hands firmly on your waist. "tell me what you want or you wont get anything."

you whimpered desperately. "ellie." the sound of her voice on your lips was enough to have her going completely mad. "need your fingers." the mumble was low and pathetic, embarrassment flooding your cheeks.

she didn't move from her position. slowly, she trailed her hand back down to where your sopping cunt lay. she pulled the fabric of your cheerleaders outfit and your panties away from your pussy, sliding them across your ass as her fingers gently rubbed at your now bare cunt. "this what you want?" your hips were rolling against her fingers, eyes rolling to the back of your head and incoherent mumbles falling from your lips. you didn't answer, too caught up in your own euphoria. "god, you're fucking pathetic." and nodded your head too, agreeing with her as she drew tight little circles around your clit.

you could have came by the mere stimulation of her fingers against your clit but you wanted all of her. "inside." you mumbled through your whining. "please, els."

she was rather enjoying herself too, pressing kisses on the back of your neck. "you can beg better than that." she had full faith that you could. your whining never stopped as you threw your head into the pillows, much too embarrassed. "listen to me." her mouth falling near your ear. "be a good slut and beg for my fingers or you're not getting anything."

and the way her voice sounded and the way her fingers felt never stopping their attack on your clit. how could you not? “please els, please need it so bad.” grinding your hips down on her moving fingers. “please, i’ll be good, promise i’ll be good, please ellie.”

“good girl.” ellie cooed into your ear, a smirk on her lips. she stuck two fingers inside you without warning, pumping them in and out of your dripping hole. “see? wasn’t so hard was it? ‘n now you got what you wanted.” pressing kisses against your shoulders as she continued her assault on your dripping pussy.

you babbled and whined, whimpered and begged as you felt her fingers completely undo you. they were pumping in and out of you consistently as she soaked in your every whimper, your every noise as you babbled into the sheets. even you were unaware of what you were trying to say, all you knew was that noises fell from your lips and they seemed like good ones. “ellie!” you were almost screaming her name in a chant. “‘m gonna, i can’t―”

“i know, sweetgirl.” cooing at you again. “can’t hold it?” you shook your head over and over, your hole tightening around her two fingers that plunged right back into you. “mm, let go, pretty. be a good girl ‘n cum all over my fingers.” and that was exactly what you did.

she felt you tighten around her, completely sucking in her two fingers as you gushed around her, wet and sloppily as you came undone. she kept moving her fingers, allowing you to ride it out as she pumped in and out of you, gently now that she knew you were sensitive. when you collapsed onto the bed, fucked out and tired, she finally let her fingers exit your little hole.

her eyes couldn’t help but be strained to your face, cheeks pink and eyes slightly droopy. you looked completely fucked out and she was the cause of it. pride melted inside her as she grabbed your knee, flipping you around to look up at her with those doey eyes again, pupils wide.

she wasn’t entirely done with you yet.

“can you give me another?” you weren’t responding, babbling something as she reached down to untie your little costume. she slipped it off you with ease, smirking at the fact that you hadn’t been wearing a bra. “yeah?” to your constant babbling, not a clue in her head of what you were trying to say. “know you can, pretty girl.” reaching up to grab the top of her jumper, sliding it off and tossing it somewhere across the room.

you were gawking at her, not a drip of shame inside you. eyes wide as you stared. she understood for she had been staring just as much as you had. eyes drawn to your chest as her hands came down to kneed your tits, fingers slipping over your nipple causing a moan to fall from you, arching your back up on the bed.

she just had to have her cunt on yours.

she quickly climbed atop you, watching your face that never moved, you were waiting in anticipation for what she was going to do next. when she lowered herself onto your cunt, you couldn’t help but whimper out. even when your pussy was all sensitive, you couldn’t help but grind your hips upwards. the best part? she hadn’t even started moving yet.

“fuck.” she breathed out, feeling your clit rub against hers. “jus’ slow down, alright?” chuckling at your nodding. “gonna give you what you wan’t. jus’ gotta… jus’ need to…” but she cut herself off, unable to keep talking as her eyes rolled, a moan falling from her lips. the way you rolled your hips against hers, the way her clit bumped off your own, she couldn’t keep up.

her hands moved to sit up against you, she needed to take some sort of control. she moved upright, grinding her hips down to meet yours. her movements were much quicker than yours, a little desperate as she felt your clit constantly on hers. she couldn’t help the low groan that fell from her lips. “els!” you were a moaning, blabbering mess, back arched against the bed and eyes screwed shut. “feels so good, els, feels―” cutting yourself off with yet another whine.

ellie’s eyes were on yours, watching as your face twisted and contorted in pleasure. It drove her to hump her hips quicker, bouncing and bumping clit to clit. “good girl.” her own breath shaking. “takin’ it so well, my good girl.”

the way the words fell from your lips had your stomach twisting in knots for the second time that evening. this time, you could barely hold yourself. “ellie!” you couldn’t even get the words out, all you could feel and see was pleasure, all you could think was ellie.

ellie knew what you were trying to say, merely grunting as she found her own stomach pooling with that feeling. “yeah?” her head in your neck as she moved her hips against you so quickly, grinding down so fast, you could see stars. “you gonna cum all over me?” there was a higher pitch to her tone, you could tell she was so close, as close as you were. “gonna cum all over me like the little slut you are, hm? my slut.”

that was all you needed.

when ellie felt it, she found her hips stuttering against you. the sputtering of liquid against her, coming from your pussy. her eyes glanced down to see you squirting all over her cunt, hips chasing you as the liquid spurted, hitting her and travelling down to your stomach. the whining and the whimpering in her ear didn’t stop.

watching you squirt all over her could only make her come as close as you had. her stomach knots unravelled as she came, her hands holding your own tightly. you both grinded against each other as you came down from your highs.

when ellie finished, watching as your legs shook, she collapsed to the other side of you, chest heaving up and down, her eyes glancing to you who was looking at the ceiling in pure shock. she couldn’t help the way her lips curved completely upwards, the biggest shit eating grin on her face.

she had fucked the cheerleader.

main masterlist/ellie's masterlist

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safination · 7 months ago

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The Second Time Around

|Masterlist|

Alastor shakes his head, chucking a little. Each puff of his laughter cranes your head up and down. “Mother would strangle me if she learned what I’m doing with you,” he says. “Oh, she would go bonkers and grab my ears, telling me I was raised better than this.” “What exactly are you doing to me besides lulling me into sleep after filling my belly with the most exquisite food.” “We’re living together.” You pull away, looking at him to motion to the house. “Sweetheart, I hate to break it to you, but we’ve been living together for the past two years. Well, ten if you count our life up top,” you say with a snicker. “Living together is the least sinful thing we’ve done together!” Alastor shakes his head, pushing you up to your feet. TLDR: Alastor prides himself in being a gentleman, yet here he is now, living with his not-really wife but still his wife without rings around your fingers. It’s time he changed that.

Just a small little fic. I'm working on some requests right now, so to those who requested, I didn't forget about you, don't worry <3

ﮩ٨ـﮩﮩ٨ـ♡ﮩ٨ـﮩﮩ٨ـ ﮩ٨ـﮩﮩ٨ـ♡ﮩ٨ـﮩﮩ٨ـ

Alastor adjusts his hold, securing your body with a firm hold as he carries you on his back. The pads of his thumb go up and down the skin of your leg, and each movement lulls you deeper into him.

Strands of his hair brush your cheek when you rest your chin on his shoulder. They caress your skin every time Alastor takes a step, humming a song as he walks down the street. It’s a familiar tune.

Night-time air blows cold, even in Hell. Despite already wearing Alastor’s coat, the breeze forces you to sink deeper into his back. It’s warm—he’s warm.

The pads of your fingers draw circles on his dress-shirt as you press yourself into him. Closer…the desire to be closer never ends. It’s like a never-ending fire that consumes you with every touch. How unfair of Alastor to hold this kind of power over you.

It's funny—hilarious, even.

The same scent of detergent emanates from your clothes, but there’s this undertone in Alastor’s coat. It’s a whole mix of different scents but to you, it’s just Alastor. Nothing less and nothing more. How can the same batch of laundry produce such a different smell?

There’s a metaphor somewhere there that Alastor can probably find. Your clothes. His clothes. The same smell of laundry detergent, but each piece holds a different whiff.

You tighten your grip on Alastor’s shoulders, steading yourself to lean back and stare at the sky.

The sudden shift of weight causes Alastor to stumble back. His leg shoots out to keep your bodies stable. Still, you lean your head back to watch the reddened sky. Clouds filter across its red canvas, prompted by the cooled winds of Hell.

“Dearest…if we fall, I will blame you.” Alastor scowls, and the faintest of static emits due to his annoyance. It’s something he’s still learning to control, and you let this offense pass…for now.

“We?” you echo, smiling into his shoulder. “Does this mean you would fall into the ground with me, my love?”

“Perhaps…,” Alastor begins, keeping his eyes ahead, “…I…I should skip a few steps and drop you right now. Oh, that would be quite the hilarious sight! Just the thing to end the night.”

A laugh escapes into the air and echoes across the dirty streets. You crash your weight forward, pressing your chest against his back.

Alastor stumbles forward, catching himself just in time to keep your bodies from falling. “I will actually drop you if you continue this childish behavior of yours.”

You settle yourself on Alastor’s back and press a small kiss on his shoulder. “My feet are starting to feel better. You don’t need to carry me,” you begin but wrap your arms around his neck, “my darling…my sweetest, sweetheart.”

“It’s you who insisted on wearing these blasted shoes. I told you to wear practical ones.” Alastor makes a face, pointing his nose into the air…but still, he presses his lips down on the skin of your arm. “I would say, ‘It paints me to tell you so’ but we both know that isn’t true.”

“Then don’t say it.”

“Dearest.”

“Yes?”

“I told you so,” Alastor says, and despite him looking away, you can practically see the smile on his face. “It doesn’t pain me to do so at all. Actually, it brings me great joy knowing I was correct.”

“I hate you.” The words are mumbled into his back.

“Now, now,” Alastor says. “We both know that’s a lie.”

“Al…I love you.”

“I know,” he tells you, pressing another kiss on your arm. “I love you.”

“That’s sweet but if you truly loved me, you would have told me we’d be dancing after dinner,” you say, banging your forehead on his back with a small huff. It’s a poor attempt to hide your shy smile. “Go on then, drop me if carrying your wife bothers you so much.”

Alastor keeps his eyes ahead as he walks, angling his head to connect with you. “That’s quite the ridiculous notion, considering we’re already home.”

You try to slip out of Alastor’s hold.

“Dearest, we’re still at the gate,” he says, shaking your body to force you to wrap around his neck tightly. “We haven’t reached the door yet—sit still.”

“Al, I can walk the rest of the way,” you tell him but still…you settle back into his hold. “The door is right there.”

Alastor keeps silent, intent on walking to the entrance of your home with you on his back.

He struts past the garden, and walks straight up the porch, landing you gently on the rocking chair. The pads of his fingers trail down your leg until they catch the soles of your shoes. Alastor slips them off your feet, revealing the red spots that mark your skin.

Alastor kneels before you, one leg propped up like a stool for your foot. Ha! It’s quite the sight to see the Radio Demon on his knees for his wife.

The pressure he uses to massage your feet brings instant relief to the buzzing of pinched nerves. His thumb glides over a particular aching spot that forces a hum of delight out your lips.

Maybe wearing the wrong shoes wasn't such a bad thing…and maybe, you should wear the wrong shoes more often.

With Alastor’s gentle attention, your feet stop aching.

Alastor takes your hand, pulling you to stand off the rocking chair. He takes the seat from you, but before you can begin to huff, Alastor pulls you on top of his lap. Your legs lean against the arm rest as you curl between his legs and into his hold, pressing deeper into his chest.

You flick the ends of his bowtie, and take the monocle resting on his face. The round glass connects to a chain. “Do you actually need this?”

“Sometimes.” Alastor rests his chin on your head.

The monocle distorts your vision as you bring it closer and farther to check the grade. “You didn’t need this when you were alive.”

“That’s because I had glasses.” Alastor snatches his monocle, and places it back on his face. “You smudge it.”

“I liked those glasses,” you say. “They were very handsome, and suited you very, very, handsomely.”

Alastor hums, rocking the chair to bring you into a lull. The breeze of the night forces you to pull his coat closer around your shoulders, eyes drooping as you settle between Alastor’s legs. This moment will pass, and soon Alastor will force you to your feet and into proper clothes then into a proper bed.

That’s later…this is now.

And right now, you’ll inhale the soft scent of sulfur from Hell’s air while chasing that precious mix of Alastor’s scent. And right now, you’ll lean into the heavy hand that soothes your back, grounding you into his arms.

Alastor presses a kiss on your forehead. “My dearest.”

“Hmmm?” you say, letting the lull take hold.

“Did you enjoy yourself tonight?” He brushes a palm across your head, patting the strands that stick out. “I need to know if you had fun.”

“It was the most fun I’ve had in years.”

“What exactly are you doing to me besides lulling me into sleep after filling my belly with the most exquisite food.”

“We’re living together.”

You pull away, looking at him to motion to the house. “Sweetheart, I hate to break it to you, but we’ve been living together for the past two years. Well, ten if you count our life up top,” you say with a snicker. “Living together is the least sinful thing we’ve done together!”

Alastor shakes his head, pushing you up to your feet.

He presses a kiss on your ring finger, letting his lips linger across the skin. “I am a gentleman,” Alastor tells you, and each word brushes your skin. “My mother raised me to act with honor…yet, here I am living in our house, sharing a bed with you, all without being married.”

“Alastor, we are married,” you say. “Was tonight’s dinner not meant to celebrate our anniversary?”

“You’re forgetting that our vows ended with, ‘till death do us part’,” Alastor says, wagging his finger at you. “I died…and so did you. Death parted us, yet it also brought me to you once more.”

Alastor lowers to his knees, your hand still secured around his own.

There’s a smile on your lips that you don’t remember smiling, and the words tumble out on their own. “Yes.”

“My dear,” Alastor starts, sighing. “I haven’t even said anything. The ring isn’t even in my hands yet.”

“Okay…okay,” you say, laughing into the air. “Sorry—go on, please. I won’t interrupt you.”

“Let me finish.” Alastor reaches into his pocket, bringing out a small box. It’s just the right size to hold a ring. “Will you—”

“Yes.”

“—let me finish?”

You flash your most innocent smile. “I’m sorry. I promise to stay silent.”

“From this day on, I never wish to be parted from you,” Alastor tells you. “Death or no death. I am to be your husband, and stay in this house until eternity ends.”

You squeeze his hand. “Yes.”

“Dearest…,” Alastor says with a warning tone, but squeezes your hand back. “Will you do me the honor of re-marrying me?”

“Yes,” you say once again. “Always…I will always say yes to you.”

Alastor presses a kiss on your cheek, allowing his lips to linger for what seems like a lifetime—the same lifetime you’ll spend together once more.

The next kiss lands on your other cheek.

A kiss to the forehead.

A kiss on the edges of your lips.

Alastor runs his thumb over the soft skin of your mouth. Breaths mix together with small huffs. The intoxication of his nose trailing up your face consumes your very being.

The back of his fingers caresses your face until they reach to tuck a strand behind your ear. His touch shifts to cup your face as the pads of his thumb swipe across your cheek. It’s over…you’ve fully lost yourself into him.

His lips brush above your own, torturing you slowly.

The hold on the back of your neck brings you closer until your noses crash into one another, and your forehead presses against each other. His mouth grazes yours, but never fully connects. Inches of breath separate your kiss, and every exhale only pulls you deeper into madness.

The lids of your eyes flutter to a close when he finally kisses you. Kiss after kiss after kiss. Your arms snake around his chest, pulling him closer into a hug.

The kisses he blesses you with are slow, as if he savors each and every one. Alastor kisses you like there’s no place he would rather be than pulling flush against his body like he was carved to fit you into his space.

Alastor slips the ring around your finger.

You’ve said ‘Yes’ once before, and you’ve said ‘Yes’, this second time around. The answer will always be the same throughout any lifetime or any world.

ﮩ٨ـﮩﮩ٨ـ♡ﮩ٨ـﮩﮩ٨ـ ﮩ٨ـﮩﮩ٨ـ♡ﮩ٨ـﮩﮩ٨ـ

Tell me what you think! I quite like this short one. It's sweet and just hits the feels for me. School has been killing me. BUT DON'T WORRY I REALLY HAVEN'T FORGOTTEN ABOUT YOUR REQUESTS. THEY'RE DRAFTED AND WILL BE COMPLETED

#alastor x reader #hazbin hotel x reader #alastor x wife!reader #alastor #alastor x you #hazbin hotel x you #alastor the radio demon #hazbin alastor #alastor x wife reader #human alastor #hazbin alastor x reader #alastor hazbin hotel #hazbin hotel headcanons #hazbin hotel headcanon #hazbin hotel fanfiction #Hazbin Hotel #hazbin hotel imagines

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mingtinys · 10 months ago

Text

" have you eaten today ? "

pairing : boo seungkwan x gn!reader

"13 ways to say "i love you" with seventeen"

warnings : mentions of food , language (seungkwan calls the reader "dumbass" lovingly)

word count : 0.6 k

a/n : words cannot describe the love i have for boo seungkwan , if my future partner isn't boo seungkwan himself i don't WANT them .

You'd like to think after two years, you've grown used to Seungkwan's disapproving glare. But jeez, if he isn't laying it on thick tonight. You're pretty sure he's actually burned two dime-sized holes through your laptop with the way he glowering from his spot across from you.

"Boo..." You draw out his name in a warning, not bothering to look up or cease typing. "You're gonna strain your corneas if you don't quit it."

"Your fingers are gonna fall off if you don't quit it." He mocks.

You spare a full three seconds to look up from your computer just to shoot him a look that says really? Now you're just being immature.

"I told you when you insisted on coming over I wouldn't be able to entertain you. This project is due in two days and I need to focus." You huff out.

It's true, you literally told him three times over on the phone he was welcome at your place, but that he'd have to be quiet and let you work. Which, in hindsight, you really should have known better considering it's Seungkwan, but you felt bad having already blown off your boyfriend three times this week due to this project. And judging from his tone when he called, he was two seconds from marching over and kicking down your door anyway.

Seungkwan clicks his tongue. "This isn't about being entertained—" you highly doubt that "—it's about you being a dumbass and overworking yourself."

You roll your eyes, but that only seems to fuel his persistence. "It's been hours since I got here and you've yet to take a break."

"I will in a bit, just let me finish this."

Seungkwan doesn't get the chance to retort. The doorbell rings with what you assume is the take-out he called in for himself a little over thirty minutes ago. You'd originally told him you didn't want anything, shooing him to quiet down when he tried to ask. But now, you're starting to regret that. Especially when the smell of his food wafts into the room moments after the door shuts.

He sits back down across from you, opening the containers and making quick work of digging in. The scent of it hits your nose tenfold, and at that, your stomach growls. Loud enough for Seungkwan's head to pop up and his eyes to narrow. Traitor, you curse at your stomach.

Seungkwan tilts his head and you're too scared to meet his gaze for fear of being scolded.

"Have you eaten today?" He asks, with a soft tone and unexpected seriousness. You just shrug, not wanting to let go of your pride.

"I'm fine."

He scoffs and immediately starts using the container's lid to dish out a heaping portion. All the while muttering to himself about you being difficult and how you're going to give him at least twelve new grey hairs.

"Here, take half." He shoves the lid, which definitely has more than half piled onto it, towards you.

When you just blankly stare at it, he sighs and picks up a piece with his chopsticks. He extends his arm as far as it can go until the item, drenched in a sweet-smelling sauce, is centimeters from your lips. "Eat." He instructs. So you do, admitting defeat by finally pushing your computer to the side and exchanging it for the plate Seungkwan fixed you.

"I swear, what would you do without me." He teases, beaming with pride.

taglist: @matchahyuck @dontwannaexsist @minnieminshi @myfavoritedelusion @tanya596carat

#boo seungkwan #seungkwan #boo seungkwan x reader #seungkwan x reader #boo seungkwan x you #seungkwan x you #boo seungkwan fluff #seungkwan fluff #boo seungkwan imagine #seungkwan imagines #boo seungkwan fanfic #seungkwan fanfic #seventeen #seventeen imagine #seventeen fic #seventeen x reader #seventeen x you #seventeen imagines #seventeen scenarios

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brujaluas · 2 months ago

Text

WHAT YOUR PAST SELF WANTS TO COMMUNICATE TO YOU

pile 1

Well, the first thing I saw was "I know you miss the past", your past self doesn't want you to be sad about the memories of the past, because it seems like you were happier years ago, your past self wants you to see these memories with pride and good nostalgia, not that your heart aches.

It also doesn't want you to be so focused on your traumas and sacrifices, what's past is past. It's not something you can just get over and that's it, but you need to understand that there's no way to change the past, and that remembering bad things only hurts you, your past self asks you to see things from another perspective too! see how you have changed for the better, there is a phrase that goes like this: "evil is never complete", even if you have suffered a lot in the past, something beautiful can blossom now, you may have become more resilient, a person who knows how to take care of themselves in a loving way, you understand, I wish you the best, feel at home here on this blog, I welcome you with open arms! and I apologize for the words, I am not trying to tell you to pretend that things never happened, but to see things in a way that does not make you suffer.

pile 2

There must be a song that talks about this, I'll look for it, wait, ok after searching for hours, I found one that fits, I didn't know it but it's Black Swan by BTS, it talks about an artist losing the will to make art and having this as a deep fear (at least that's how I interpreted it), and it also reminds me that when an artist give up making art is a form of suicide and that kind of happened to some, some people in this pile completely abandoned what makes them happy, like painting as example to dedicate themselves to more rigid things, like something from the office, your past self knows that you miss doing the things you used to do, be it watching birds, nature, painting, drawing, you miss that, because nowadays everything seems so boring and tiring, right? I see a childhood nostalgia here, well, your past self thinks that you don't need to let it die completely and you don't need to feel guilty for having abandoned it for another reason either, that's okay, an artist never stops being an artist. Remember that, my dear.

pile 3

You may want to see the other piles too and that's okay, I'll be waiting for you here. Did you see? Well, let's go to this one now. You may be missing a male figure in your life, something brotherly, Christmas may be important to you, but nowadays things are no longer the same as when you were a child, here I see a very mysterious energy, your past self misses and regrets the happy child you were in the past, you had good memories of life, but you grew up, it's the natural cycle of things, sometimes you may want to go back in time just to live that again. Be happy.

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strwbrychffoncke · 29 days ago

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"won't you stop with that look on your face?,, 2k words synopsis: zayne & caleb taking care of you..... contains: lnds zayne + caleb x f!reader (she/her used ,mc!coded) ,sick!reader ,worried!caleb ,doctor!zayne moment ,bickering (zayne + caleb) ,one use of "gege" ,you bicker w caleb ,caleb makes u tea ,kinda smug!zayne at the end ,v annoyed caleb LOL ,i think thats it note: (not edited!) another late night braindump of mine (short n sweet this time cause i started falling asleep while writing it lol??) this can be read as a sequel to "baby ,i care for you,, but can also be read by itself :x

the door to your cozy home doesn't allow more than three knocks to resound through the hardwood before its swung open for the guest by a certain impatient pilot.

"took you long enough," he frowns at the man standing at the entrance.

"apologies, i still had one last round of check-ins and was in the middle of handling some paperwork when you called. how is she?"

caleb sidesteps from the entrance as zayne maneuvers past him, letting himself inside the familiar home, slipping off his shoes at the doorway. caleb shuts the door before whirling around towards the indifferent doctor.

"in her room, where i've been taking good care of her the past couple of days."

caleb's voice is filled with pride as he leads zayne down the hall (not that he didn't know where it was already after so many years), filling the doctor both wild mild irritation and exasperation.

"you say that, yet you're the one who yelled at me to make a home visit to check on her."

caleb scoffs as they both arrive at your door, caleb gently pushing it open and entering with zayne following close behind.

you're sitting up in bed, sipping on some water when the two men from your childhood walk in, causing you to perk up as much as you can in your fatigued state.

caleb approaches the bed first, mattress dipping as he takes back his seat on the edge where he'd been accompanying you before, patting your head as you recap the bottle.

"doctor's here, finally" he mutters the last word but you catch it, causing a pleasant laugh to bubble up, the sound easing both men's concern for you, if even just slightly.

zayne approaches from the other side, assessing your condition from what he can see- immediately noticing your slightly-shivering form despite the blanket wrapped around your shoulders and comforter scrunched in your lap- before reaching a hand out to lay across your forehead to check your temperature.

"how are you feeling?"

his deep voice is soft, especially soothing to you that you know you could drift off easily if he continued speaking.

"i'm okay, really" you peer up at him, throat still slightly scratchy as you're still recovering from the initial soreness from a few days prior. "gege's just overreacting," you tease, reassuring smile making zayne crack a grin.

"i'm not- you're not fine!" caleb insists before turning to zayne.

"she's been sick for almost a week now, a week! that's way too long!"

"you seem to have a mild fever," zayne tells you, drawing his hand back, continuing to assess your physical condition before he responds to the agitated pilot.

"did you forget that, for how little she falls ill, this is usually the standard?"

his soft touches travel down your neck to your shoulders and down your arms, checking for any discomfort as he continues.

"shouldn't you, of all people, know that the best?"

caleb grits his teeth at the doctor's jab as he watches his hands examine you, looking at the way your shallow breaths escape your parted lips as you glance between the two.

you're only listening to their bickering, but you're too tired to think about intervening right now.

"of course i do, but when she's had an ongoing fever the whole time with congestion, and now a cough with headache and body aches when it first started as a sore throat, do you expect me not to worry?" he spits, pointed gaze aimed straight at zayne.

"it hasn't broken at all?" he looks up at you for an answer.

you're about to speak when caleb answers for you.

"no!"

zayne hums, unraveling the stethoscope from his neck, placing the earpieces in place before sliding the cool metal down your shirt, a small apology escaping him as you shudder at the feeling before checking your heartbeat.

"but it hasn't been consistent in temperature, correct?"

"nope."

zayne urges you to take a deep breath.

"its simply an indication that her body is having some difficulty fighting off the illness. since its gradually gotten better, i wouldn't say its something to worry about."

he moves the stethoscope, urging another deep breath from you.

"but-"

"in any case, for how good her immune system is at keeping her healthy, the drawback is that her body is quite vulnerable when sickness comes, so it usually lasts longer."

he moves the metal to your back to check once more, asking for one more deep breath.

"i understand your worry since her condition worsened before improving. but most of the symptoms have subsided, yes?" he's looking at you again when he asks this, and this time, caleb lets you answer.

you nod quickly before responding properly.

"yes! i had a headache when i woke up today, but it went away really quickly. otherwise, my cough has gotten better, and i'm still struggling with congestion," you unconsciously sniffle, driving your point. "i guess i've still been a little tired too? but i'm feeling much better than before!"

satisfied with his findings of everything being normal and reassured by your own words, zayne smiles down at you before withdrawing the stethoscope, turning his gaze to caleb fully once more.

"i thought you knew her better than anyone, why make a fuss about it all of a sudden?"

caleb's eyes narrow at the jab.

he's doing it on purpose.

"because, she-"

your harsh coughs halt their conversation, sleeved arm coming up to cover your mouth as both men's heads snap towards you.

the coughing fit is gone as quickly as it came, and thats when you notice their concerned gazes boring into you.

"don't you think that cough sounds pretty bad, doctor?"

"it's nothing extreme. you're taking medicine for it, yes?"

you nod.

"yeah," caleb pipes up, jabbing a thumb into his chest before continuing. "i've been giving her medicine for her throat, fevers, and even allergy medicine this entire time."

"he made me take so many pills... save me, zayne~" you sulk up at him; he gives a fond look in return.

"hey, it was for your own good!"

"you tried to feed me six different pills at once!"

"maybe because you needed all of them! do you really expect me to believe you would have taken any medicine on your own?"

zayne sighs at the two of you

just like usual. some things never change...

you huff out a breath, pout adorning your face.

"caleb?"

"hm? yeah?" he perks up, eyes glued to you awaiting your next words.

"can you make me some tea?"

"anything in particular?"

"chamomile?"

"sure thing, i'll be right back," he ruffled your hair again, side eyeing zayne as he passes him before he's out the door.

you let out a sigh, and zayne's eyes are locked onto yours.

"sorry to make you come out here, you must be tired," your words are remorseful, feeling guilty for, in a sense, making him work overtime.

"i told caleb i was fine, but he wouldn't listen. he was actually upset with me at first since i didn't tell him i was sick and had to find out himself when he came home and saw me," you share bashfully, thinking back to his worried expression and stern tone.

"well, i can understand him a bit," zayne's eyes drape over your bundled figure. "a certain hunter likes to think they're invincible, and isn't exactly the best at looking over their health."

"hey! i did take medicine the first two days, y'know?"

"did you take them consistently?"

crap, he got you there.

"well..."

"figures."

"you're so mean!" you whine, but the doctor only chuckles.

"well, if you're saying this, then i have no doubt you'll be fully recovered in another couple of days."

at that moment, caleb steps back in with a slightly steaming mug in hand, slowly walking over the the free side of the bed to hand it to you.

"here you are, pipsqueak, just the way you like it!"

"thank youuu," you smile, reaching out to grip the mug with both hands.

"careful, it may still be a little hot."

you nod, allowing the warmth seeping through the mug to warm your hands before taking a small sip.

a little sigh of relief escapes you, and the three of you engage in quiet conversation, neither man wanting to leave your side quite yet despite knowing that you were completely okay.

its later in the evening, your tea long finished, using the last remnants of it to wash down some medicine administered by caleb (who had nudged you before you drifted off, not letting you sleep until you took the medicine for your own good he repeated as you washed them down with the still-warm tea).

after that, it didn't take long for you to doze off to the hushed voices of your two favorite people, breaths evening out as you floated off into the land of dreams.

its silent for awhile after that, two pairs of eyes watching over you when caleb suddenly turns towards zayne.

"so? she's really fine?"

zayne's eyes drift towards the source of the voice.

"yes, so long as she keeps taking her medicine, she'll continue recovering well," he adjusts his glasses before continuing. "and anyway, from the looks of it she just seems to have caught a bad cold. the symptoms can last for a week or so; its really nothing to worry about."

caleb lets out a breath he didn't realize he had been holding.

what a relief.

zayne, figuring its about time to go home himself, stands from his spot, checking that he has everything on him when he speaks up again.

"its not the first time she's gotten sick like this. why were you so worried this time?"

caleb thinks for a long moment before settling on his answer.

"seeing her so weak and tired was just so..." he trails off, eyes taking on a distant look in them. "it'd just been awhile. even if i knew she would be fine, it was just.."

zayne nods, understanding crossing his features.

"i know what you mean." he glances over at your peaceful slumbering figure once again. "at least she had you to take care of her. who knows what her condition may be if she were left alone like this?"

caleb clicks his tongue at the thought.

"terrible, that's for sure. she really can't be trusted to take care of herself, especially not when she's sick."

"i'll be on my way now. even though the chances are low, if anything changes, don't hesitate to call me."

"sure," caleb nods, standing from his spot as well as he begins walking zayne to the door.

"thanks for coming over and checking her out."

"its no problem, it puts my own mind at ease as well."

zayne slips on his shoes before speaking up again.

"i'll check back in tomorrow. try not to fuss to much until then."

"ha-ha, whatever you say, doctor zayne."

"and next time, maybe don't yell so loudly through the line. i was momentarily concerned for my eardrums, and it certainly couldn't have been good for her headaches."

caleb feels irritation replacing the gratitude he'd felt just moments ago.

"sure, i'll keep that in mind."

zayne adjusts his sleeves before speaking again.

"though, since you know her best, i'm sure you could figure out what's good for her and what isn't, especially when she's like this."

the faintest smirk curls on the edge of zayne's lips at the growing scowl on caleb's face.

"you-!"

"well then, i'll see you in the morning. goodnight."

zayne's exit is curt as he exits through the door, all too satisfied at the reactions he drew out of caleb.

on the other hand, the deepspace pilot wanted to yell in frustration (though, managed to refrain from doing so at the reminder that you were fast asleep just a few doors down).

instead, only an annoyed groan escapes his throat as he clenches his fists, one singular thought circulating his mind:

that guy was really so annoying!

a/n: almost completely recovered ,this idea came to me after seeing sm posts ab zayne/caleb beef or everyone hoping that their beef would be crazy LOL -

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hollowdeath · 11 months ago

Note

I LOVEEEEE YOUR HARRY FICSSSS 😭😭🙏🙏 I literally cannot get enough, your harry fics are amazing ❤️

I was wondering if you'd be willing to do an enemies to lovers type thing with dark!harry, similar to the one you did with "the dark side" fic, but maybe they're rivals due to quittich, yet they both just have tension they don't know gow to handle, so one day they just kind of get so worked up in an argument they start making out. (P.S. I loved the thing you did where harry came from y/n saying he hated him 😫😫 also the part where harry gets turned on from y/n scolding him. If possible, could you incorporate that in there? Thank you smm ❤️❤️) I hope it's not too much trouble ❤️❤️❤️

thank you so much for requesting this, i hope you enjoy!!!

pairing: slytherin!harry james potter x gryffindor!fem!reader (18+)

summary: you and harry have been quidditch rivals ever since you've become captain of the gryffindor team. the tension between you two rises until one of you needs bandaged up by the other, leading to you making a discovery about the school's bad boy that leaves you baffled and insanely curious.

cw: smut!!! angst, mentions of blood, degradation kink, sub!harry x dom!reader, dry humping

word count: 7k

it was your final year at hogwarts and, more importantly to you, it was your last year as the gryffindor quidditch captain. you took major pride in your status as captain, and dedicated a majority of your time outside of class to leading practice, coming up with new plays, and making sure that annoyingly good slytherin captain kept his distance from you and your team.

harry potter was well known at hogwarts years before he even came through. the boy who lived, or whatever. you had never paid him much mind to begin with because you knew he reveled in his own notoriety.

see, potter wasn't just the slytherin quidditch captain. he was the most vile, egotistical, disrespectful wizard you'd ever had the misfortune of interacting with. on top of thinking he was some kind of miracle that blessed everyone's presence wherever he went, he specifically treated you worse than the mud on his shoes. not just because of your status as gryffindor captain, but because you were the only student who wasn't afraid to stand your ground with him. had it not been for quidditch practice 4 times a week and games every friday, you would've done everything you could to keep your distance. however, things didn't work out that way, and you ended up forming a sort of rivalry with the boy that the student body found all too exciting.

it started last year when potter and his friends made a dumb poster and hung it up in every boys bathroom: a drawing of someone falling off their broom with your face printed out and glued to it, along with harry's whose drawing had just knocked you off victoriously. they had put "[y/l/n] vs potter: this friday at 6" at the top like it was some kind of promotional advert. and, as much as you hated it, it actually somewhat worked.

from that game on, the other kids began picking sides every week to see who would win. the crowd turnout became the largest it had been in your entire time at hogwarts. some came in support of potter or were otherwise afraid of what would happen if they didn't, while a good amount of students started to become your biggest supporters the more you showed your skills in the game.

see, you didn't just become captain by having a recognizable last name unlike some other people; you had been playing quidditch since you could fly from a young age, and made the team every single year before finally being nominated for the position by your own teammates. you made a promise to them that day that slytherin would no longer be known as the winning house, and that they finally had some competition to sweat over.

and sweat they did. your first game as captain was an easy win, and so were the next 3. it wasn't until the slytherin players learned they actually had to try in order to win now that they began winning every other game as well. that's where harry stepped in.

harry was someone you always tried to avoid during your years at hogwarts. you didn't socialize with many slytherins to begin with as you found some of them to be rather grating and obnoxious, but especially not with slytherins like potter. it was students like him that gave the entire house a bad name. everyone thought he was so charming besides his cocky attitude, but you saw through his act right away. you think that's partially why he singled you out of anyone as his target.

once he set his sights on you, it was impossible to avoid him. it's like he had some sort of tracker on you the way he always managed to pop up in the most random of places simply to upset you. not that you'd be surprised, as along with harry's sickening bravado came his disregard for moral ethics. if there was a way to cheat, lie, or steal your way into getting what you wanted, potter was already on it. he knew no bounds when it came to his little schemes either. from stealing your game plays and sharing them with his teammates to spreading rumors about your players to playing clearly illegal moves during the game only for nobody to notice but you, potter seemed to revel in the rivalry everyone pushed onto you.

you hated giving him the satisfaction of breaking your cold demeanor, but sometimes his antics pushed you too far. he knows how protective you've become over your teammates, so he'll target them when he can't get to you, especially the younger ones. this is where you've blown your cover quite a few times as you can't stand seeing your first years cower in fear anytime they see potter. yelling, spitting, nearly getting physical with him on several occasions when he ignores your threats to leave the kids alone or else. it's as if he rather enjoys getting such a rise out of you, and not just to fuel the public rivalry.

today was your last day of practice before the last, biggest game of the semester. your team knew to meet at the field at 5 pm ready to go as you had plenty of plays you wanted to perfect before playing against the slytherins tomorrow night. practice had only just started with a few flyers in the air before you heard a commotion of voices coming from behind you.

you turned and saw harry leading his team onto the field, laughing obnoxiously and pointing at your teammates in mockery. you swear you felt steam coming from your ears when you told your team to wait and let you handle this.

you stormed up to potter with an accusatory pointed finger. "you. get the hell off my field now before i call mcgonagall out here, potter." you spit at him before pushing his chest. harry takes the push and just laughs, shaking his head at you.

"[y/l/n], i'm not sure how many professors have to tell you that this field isn't yours before you let us use it for practice as well," he said with a smirk, changing his grip on his broomstick and letting it rest on his shoulder. you narrow your eyes at him and cross your arms over your chest. "you know damn well we practice here every week at this time, and yet you're never able to find a time outside of that to spend with your own team. curious, isn't it?" you ask him sarcastically, your tone biting.

harry's smirk drops slightly. "are you suggesting that i'm trying to sabotage your chance at winning the season tomorrow? because i'd never do such a thing, [y/l/n], and it hurts that you think of me in that way." he responds just as sarcastically. a few of his players snicker and laugh just behind him, earning a nasty glare from you that has them shut up quickly.

you look back at harry who's waiting for a clever comeback from you, nearly on the edge of his seat to see what you have to say this time. you hate how much he thrives off getting you upset.

"fine. practice, then. you'll need it." you tell harry with a cold tone, giving him a disgusted look up and down. you take a step forward and point your finger back into harry's chest, your faces less than a foot away from each other. "but if you mess with any of my players, even as a joke, i will gut you like a fucking fish." you tell him in a hushed tone. you think you see his pupils dilate slightly, but you were probably mistaken. "got it?"

harry's smirk only grows as he starts backing away slowly. "got it, princess." he laughs, turning to his little group of followers for approval before they run off to the other goal post opposite from your team. the nickname is new, and for some reason it made your stomach drop and heart race like crazy. that potter kid just knew exactly how to get under your skin.

you tried to focus on your own team's plays for the rest of practice, but you could clearly hear harry and his friends saying your name and laughing too often for your comfort. anytime you happened to make eye contact with harry, you made sure to scowl at him and promptly turn your attention away. just his sheer presence made your blood boil and skin crawl.

for the most part there were no issues in the sky, the slytherins mostly kept to their side besides the few times harry's friends were messing around and ended up coming close to a few of your teammates. you scolded them each time, but they would only laugh at you and fly off to tell harry about your outbursts. other than that, you ended up getting a lot accomplished in order to be prepared for the game the next day.

however, towards the end of practice, your teammates were having some difficulty with a new technique you taught them, so you took the time to demonstrate it with another player in the sky. you were just about to start instructing when your teammates started calling out to you frantically. you didn't have enough time to process what they were warning you about before you felt someone fly into you from behind, nearly causing you to fall off your broomstick.

you could feel yourself falling to the ground, but your grip on your broomstick remained tight enough to quickly get it under you just in time to somewhat break your landing. you tumbled to the ground with a pained groan, and heard someone else fall just to your left. you could feel the wind get knocked out of you in the air, so it took a moment for you to properly breathe as you tried to sit up.

your teammates got to you in seconds, asking if you were okay and trying to help you up. that's when the pain set in. standing up-right you could feel your rib cage aching and your shoulder throbbing. "i'm fine, i'm fine," you told everyone, brushing off the grass stains on your clothes. you turned to see who had fallen next to you, and who else would be lying there but harry potter as his slytherin teammates rushed to his aid as well.

they're helping him stand up and you can feel the rage building inside you. you break away from your teammates' grasps and march up to harry as he's wiping the grass stains off his own clothes as well.

"you did that on purpose, you pest." you snap at him. harry looks at you incredulously as he fixes his practice jersey. "are you mad? it was an accident, i wasn't looking where i was going, drama queen." he snaps back, giving you a dirty look up and down. you can feel your jaw clenching and fists balling at your sides. "oh yeah, sure, you just so happened to run into me of all people in the sky. you know, you're such a…"

you pause in your anger noticing a gash on the side of harry's face with blood starting to drip down his cheekbone. harry notices your concern and gives you a confused look. you sigh and instinctively pull down the sleeve of your sweatshirt to hold it against his wound. "now you have a giant cut on your face, for fuck's sake," you tell him, your voice a mix of panic and exasperation. harry winces at your hand making contact with his face, but his eyes grow with concern hearing your panic.

you turn to your team and start guiding harry towards the school. "practice is over, do not be late tomorrow." you announce to them hurriedly, trying to keep your sleeve against harry's injury as you rush him off the field.

harry actually manages to stay quiet on the way to the infirmary despite your anticipation to shush him the entire way for making crude jokes. instead he remains silent and lets you urgently guide him through the empty halls.

once you arrive at the infirmary wing, you notice the entire room is full of people. every bed is taken, ans every nurse is running around frantically from patient to patient. you and harry share a confused look before you roll your eyes and find a nurse between beds. "excuse me, ma'am, i'm sorry to bother but um, potter here was being an idiot and got a cut on his face that just needs to be bandaged quickly." you motion towards harry and feel him give you a nasty look out of your peripheral for calling him an idiot.

the nurse, completely exhausted, sighs and motions towards a room to the side of the check-in station. "look, we are swamped with a potion experiment gone wrong here. if it's just a cut that doesn't need stitches there's a first aid kit in the little room over that way." she tells you quickly before being called away to another patient. you try to intervene but she's already jogging away, leaving you with a bloody harry in your hands. literally.

you sigh, clearly annoyed, and turn to examine harry's cut again. pulling your blood-soaked sleeve away, you see the blood flow still hasn't slowed and decide to just bite your tongue and help harry despite your hatred for him only growing in this situation.

you drag harry towards the little room, opening the door and turning on the lights to reveal the smallest examination room you'd ever seen. you had no idea this was even here, but it only contained a sink, a cot, a locked medicine cabinet, and a first aid kit. you closed the door behind harry and locked it. you grab a few paper towels from next to the sink and walk harry over to the cot. "sit," you command him, practically pushing him with your other hand to sit down.

harry looks up at you softly, way softer than he's ever looked at you. it makes your heart skip a beat but you ignore the feeling quickly. "here," you tell him coldly, handing over the paper towels. "just apply pressure on it while i get the first aid kit."

harry does as he's told and you slowly pull away your sleeve, making a disgusted face at the stains left on the cuff. you sigh and pull your arm back through the sleeve, starting to take off the hoodie altogether. "well, that's ruined," you complain, throwing it to the floor, leaving you in a tiny tank top and workout shorts.

harry's watching you intently, adjusting his glasses and shifting his weight in his seat. you walk to the sink and thoroughly wash your hands in case any blood happened to get on you as well.

opening the first aid kit up you find a tiny bottle of isopropyl alcohol, cotton rounds, and bandages. pouring alcohol on the cotton, you turn to harry and still find him watching you.

you give him a look. "what?" you ask with pinched brows. harry, for once, looks flustered as he turns his eyes away from you, instead staring at the floor below his feet. you just roll your eyes and set down the alcohol, walking towards harry and pulling away his hand from his cheek.

"here," you say, moving his jaw to look up towards you. "this is gonna hurt a little," you tell him before gently cleaning the cut with the cotton round. harry winces, but his eyes never leave your face. you try to ignore his gaze but it becomes even more intense the longer you take to stop the bleeding. you can practically feel his stare burning holes into your skin, and you start to feel that familiar annoyance rise in your stomach.

"i know i'm pretty, potter, but can't you look anywhere else?" you complain, giving him a cold look before returning your attention to his cheek. harry's eyes drop again, but end up falling on your chest this time. you back away and scoff, throwing the cotton pad into the trash next to the cot. "perv," you mutter under your breath.

just as you're preparing the bandage on the counter next to the sink, you hear harry say something from behind you. "you're gonna have to speak up, kid," you chuckle, throwing away some wrapping in the trash. "your, um, your back," you hear him stutter.

you turn to give him a confused look. "what?" you ask. harry motions towards your back, and you turn to look at yourself in the mirror above the sink. you look at your back and pull up your tank top slightly to see a massive bruise forming on your ribcage. you gasp at the size and color, immediately turning your anger towards harry.

he already looks prepared for your rage before you can even start to say anything. "you bloody prick, i know you did this on purpose. do you seriously want to win so badly you'd nearly break a rib to get there?" you snap at him, pulling your shirt back down and angrily marching towards him still sitting on the cot.

"i told you, [y/n], it was an accident." he says. you pause. he's never called you by your first name, at least not to your face. you were actually surprised he knew what it was in the first place.

harry looks up at you innocently, his eyes soft and brows raised. this just angers you again. you take another step towards him, your legs practically between his as harry tilts his head up to keep looking at you.

his glasses are crooked, his hair is a mess, and the cut on his cheek is still raw. and still, for some reason, your heart skips a beat looking down at him. you've never been so close to his face. you've never noticed his freckles before.

"you should just be glad i haven't targeted you the way you've targeted me all these years, potter. you're lucky i'm a nice person and don't believe in revenge, or else you'd be the one with nearly broken bones and a bruise the size of your lungs." you spit in his face, your tone razor sharp.

harry's expression hardly changes at your words. if anything his eyes only soften more watching you become filled with anger.

"and wipe that innocent look off your face before i do it for you. you should be thanking me for patching up this cut and not making it worse." you continue to vent at him as you step away to grab the bandage from the counter.

you're just starting to press down on the adhesive of the bandage around harry's injury when his eyes meet yours again. "thank you." he says, his voice broken and whiny. something about the way he says it makes your stomach drop to the floor. harry's usual annoying temperament was completely gone, no longer making mocking jokes or insults towards you, instead only speaking softly and looking into your eyes even softer.

confused and feeling a strange mix of emotions, you finish applying the bandage on harry's face without a word.

you start to put away the first aid kit, taking one last look at your bruise in the mirror with a sigh.

"i'm sorry." you hear harry say quietly. you look at him, his expression empathetic and almost concerned for you. it was then you started to believe the incident really was an accident. why would harry ever be apologetic for something he'd usually take loads of pride in, like knocking you off your broomstick?

you swallow nervously and look away from him, fixing your shirt. "you should be," you try to remain cold, but your voice is breaking. "i'm just glad you also hurt yourself in the process. you deserve to feel some of the pain too." you say in a deadpan voice.

you pick up your sweatshirt off the floor and start soaking the sleeve in some hot water to at least try and get some of the stains out.

"you're right." harry says behind you, his voice somber. you roll your eyes at his pathetic attempt to seem remorseful, turning to him curtly. "i know i'm right. and you know what else? you're just a loser who picks on people to feel better about yourself because you're insecure." you insult him.

you expect at least some kind of reaction from harry, but he just continues to watch the ground with a sullen expression. "i know." he says quietly.

you groan and turn to shut the sink faucet off, walking towards harry with the same accusatory pointing finger from before. "and you can stop with this whole act you're putting on 'cause it's pissing me right off," you nearly yell at harry, getting in his face. he just looks up at you with those big blue eyes again, biting his lip harshly.

you went to scold him again when you noticed a rather large bulge in his pants from where you were standing above him. you thought you were just assuming, but once you took a step back, you knew exactly what was happening with a smirk growing on your face.

harry nervously looked down at his crotch before quickly attempting to hide his obvious erection. he adjusted his pants and tried to use his shirt to cover it, but you were already laughing at him. "this cannot be real, this has got to be a setup. there's no way you just got turned on by me insulting you for 10 minutes straight." you could hardly get the words out from laughing so hard.

clearly embarrassed, harry looks between you and his erection with fear in his eyes. it only makes the situation that much better for you as you continue to humiliate your own bully.

"u-uh, this isn't, um–" "don't try and tell me this isn't what it looks like, potter. i know exactly what's going on here." you interrupt him and cross your arms. "you're such a loser that the only way you can get off is by having girls hate you. y'know, most guys get erections from making out with a girl, not getting threatened by them." you mock him, still a hint of anger laced in your voice.

harry's looking at you with that same innocent expression, but there's something else in his eyes that makes you pause. he's not just embarrassed, he's actually enjoying what you're saying to him. you can see his pupils dilate just looking at you, his bulge only becoming more obvious the longer you mock him.

you want to be disgusted at this situation. you want to hate the way harry's looking at you and leave the room with a huff to tell everyone about his little kink. you want to call him a disgusting creep and slap him across the face for ever thinking of you in such a way. but, you don't. because you can't.

you should be disgusted. you should be creeped out. but, for some reason, you're just not. you should be filled with rage ready to tell him off again, but, instead, you find yourself full of curiosity and…flattery?

of course it's never flattering for a guy to get an erection thinking about you being upset with him, if anything it's quite morbid. however, with you and harry, everything finally started to make sense. this is why he was always pushing your buttons just to get a rise out of you, or why he seemed to thrive off of your heated interactions. because he did. he found pleasure in your anger.

again, you should be fuming, but you're just not. your heart is racing and so is your mind. you're completely flustered at this point, possibly even more than harry is. you can feel the blush on your neck and cheeks and can't tell if the embarrassment you're feeling is secondhand or not.

still looking up at you, harry attempts to cover his erection up again with his pants. you just laugh at him again as there's no real point, you're more than well aware of his predicament at the moment. his blush is so severe he's nearly completely red, and you can see his hair start to stick to his forehead from the sweat. while you'd usually feel nothing but contempt looking down at harry's innocent expression, this time you feel a bit different. he almost looks younger now, his eyes soft and lips slightly hung open.

you notice the bandage around his scar starts to lift a bit around his eye, so you sigh and place a hand on his bandage to help reattach it. again, harry almost winces at your movement, and you can see his erection twitch under his pants. god, he really does get off on this.

while fixing it, harry's still watching you intently. "i'm sorry," his voice is soft but deep, making your blood run cold. you pause to look him in the eyes. "and what are you sorry for?" you lead him on.

harry's brows furrow together slightly. "for…well, y'know," he trails off, offering a fake, awkward chuckle. you smirk as you look back at his bandage. "no, i don't know. so why don't you tell me, potter?" you ask teasingly.

without fail, harry shifts in his seat uncomfortably and tries to subtly hide his erection again. your smirk only grows at his predictability.

"u-uh, well, i-i'm sorry for…for, um, getting turned on by you…" his stuttering is only making you enjoy the moment more. maybe part of you likes seeing him squirm like this under your hand. "by me…?" you lead him on again, taking a step away to examine his bandage. harry swallowed nervously watching you. "by you…being mean to me." he says meekly, his voice small and embarrassed.

you smirk at him again and decide to test the waters. "good boy."

harry's face absolutely drains of color. you can practically see his heart thumping out of his chest. and, if you weren't wrong, his hands actually started shaking in his lap.

you start laughing again at his reaction, hardly able to hold back from how funny this situation was to you. harry potter, the school's bad boy, the top slytherin student, the quidditch captain, your biggest rival, has a literal kink for being degraded. and he had the nerve to ever try and call you a loser.

"sorry, it's just so funny to me," you tell him between laughs, wiping tears from your eyes. "actually, no, i'm not sorry. i think you deserve to be laughed at for this. what guy actually gets horny from girls being mean to him?" you ask rhetorically, crossing your arms again and examining harry in front of you.

he's completely disheveled and getting sweatier by the minute. he breaks eye contact after your question, nervously scratching the back of his neck to waste time. "uh…" he starts off, clearly not knowing what to say to that. you just continue smirking, watching him struggle. "i mean, is it every time a girl is mean to you this happens? i'd imagine with your attitude that would be pretty often." you joke, partially curious but mostly just trying to make him squirm more.

harry shakes his head, both of his hands rubbing at his face and wiping the sweat from his hairline. "n-no, it's, uh…" he starts again, eventually trailing off with a sigh. you start tapping your foot impatiently. "i'm waiting." you say in a mocking tone.

harry tenses again, still not looking back up at you just yet. his body language is clearly uncomfortable and defensive. "it's not…all girls, okay? it's just…you." he finally spits out, clearly struggling to put his thoughts into words. "this only happens with you, i swear. a-and it's only started this year, and i don't know why." he rambles, speaking with his hands, his eyes still fixated on the floor.

for once, you're speechless. you weren't expecting that confession from him, and you certainly didn't know how to react to it in the moment. i mean, this potter kid has had it out for you since day one, he's practically made you two enemies on the field and off, and now he wants to tell you all this? it's a bit confusing, to say the least.

harry sighs, resting his face in his hands once again. "look, i'm sorry about all of this, okay? all of it, not just today, but everything. i shouldn't have been so rude to you all this time, especially not for the reasons i have…" you can practically hear harry wincing at his own words. he uncovers his face but continues to look down. "just…please, please, don't tell anyone. i know that's asking for a lot considering all i've done to you, but…please, [y/n]." he's nearly begging.

you just watch him carefully, trying to figure out how to respond to all of this. on one hand you're inclined to feel insulted, disrespected, and downright disgusted at this information, but in reality…you're just obscenely curious. i mean, how often does a guy get turned on by you being mean to him? and not just you, but specifically, only you. does that mean he actually likes you? or is it only a sexual thing? and how would that even work?

as your mind continues to raise more and more questions, you feel yourself speaking before you even decide what to say.

"fine, i won't tell anyone. if," you take a slow step towards harry. he looks up at you with flushed cheeks and wide eyes. your heart leaps at the sight of him so vulnerable beneath you. it's as if you can see him thinking anything, anything for you.

you're not sure what's possessing you in this moment, but you can't stop yourself from pushing the limits further between you and harry. again, your mouth starts speaking for you.

"if…you let me help." you say with a smirk, closing the gap between you and harry and standing between his legs once again. he's looking up at you in complete shock, his eyes examining every inch of you in front of him. he's trying to speak but his mouth just keeps opening and closing, gasping for air and nervously chuckling.

arms still crossed, you wait for harry to say something and enjoy seeing him be the speechless one this time.

he eventually looks back up at you, biting his lip again and leaning back slightly. "help…me?" he asks, confused. you laugh at him, shaking your head. "yes, potter. help you. can't have you leaving here with that," you motion down to his pants with your head. "can we?" you ask seductively.

again, you're not sure what's making you act like this right now, but you honestly didn't mind it. you already got a kick out of insulting harry anyway, why not watch him struggle a bit harder under your thumb in this tiny exam room?

harry's completely frozen. you smile at him this time, the most genuine one you could muster in the moment. "if you want to, of course," you say quietly, softening your gaze at him and fixing his messy hair. harry makes a soft sound and leans into your touch, his eyes closing. you giggle to yourself, he just looks so innocent resting in your hand.

the moment didn't last long as you tighten your grip on the hair on the back of harry's head, pulling it so he's looking right at you. his eyes open and a soft whine escapes his lips. "i'll take that as a yes?" you ask smugly, leaning down until your faces were nearly touching. harry does his best to nod his head, swallowing nervously and glancing at your lips.

you smile at him again. something just felt so right when you were in control, seeing harry's front disappear as he became a mess in your hands. you felt powerful, confident, and, to your dismay, insanely turned on from the entire situation. your feelings of hate and desire for harry drove you mad, yet he seemed more than willing to be the recipient of both.

so, you lean forward, and you kiss him.

it's soft at first, slow, shy, you feel like harry's barely breathing. eventually he catches up, nearly moaning into your mouth as you feel your stomach fluttering. you put your other hand on his cheek and sit on harry's lap, your knees resting on the cot around harry's hips. you feel his hands tread carefully up your thighs and under your shorts, his fingers digging into your skin roughly.

this time you can't hold back your moans, causing harry to melt even more into you. his lips were soft, careful, but so eager. it's like he was starving and yet still took his time with you.

you pull away slightly, your breath heavy and forehead resting on harry's. "lay down," you command him, climbing off his lap. harry quickly lies back on the cot, kicking off his shoes in the process. you do the same before crawling back on top of him, carefully resting your ass directly on his erection.

harry openly groans, his hands reaching for your hips and squeezing the skin roughly. you bite your lip to hold back another moan. you slightly adjust your position and cause harry's head to roll back against the cot. "[y/n]..." is all he manages to say in his broken voice.

he's already such a mess and all you've done is sit in his lap. who would've known all this time his teasing you was just a cover up for this?

"this'll be easy. you're already practically falling apart on me, potter." you tease him, your cold fingers finding their way under his jersey. harry's body shivers, his hands moving from your hips to your waist. his fingers crawl under your shirt as well and cause your skin to break out in goosebumps.

he slightly smirks at this reaction, but you don't let him have his moment for long. "and don't get cocky," you warn him before you start grinding on his erection. his head rolls back in pleasure again, his mouth hanging open and fingers digging into your skin. you smirk to yourself. "don't forget you're the loser who likes to be insulted here." you remind him harshly, your hands running along his chest under his jersey.

harry's noises are completely pathetic, his hips bucking into yours for even the slightest bit more friction. you stop grinding into him and he lets out a shaky breath, looking at you with needy eyes. he looks so worked up already and you've barely done a thing.

"shirt off," you tell him, pulling at the material. harry, again, doesn't hesitate to follow instructions. he removes his hands from your waist and quickly takes off his jersey, throwing it to the floor.

your breath hitches in your throat looking at harry's soft, sweaty skin in the dim fluorescent lighting of the exam room. you never realized just how toned his shoulders and chest were, or how many scars and bruises he seemed to have, both new and fading.

you look back up at harry, his eyes nervously watching your every move. you lean in to kiss him again, messier, needier. his hands return to your hips and practically force you to start grinding on him again. you would've intervened if you weren't just as desperate to continue rolling your hips into harry's hard erection.

a soft moan comes from your lips as you grind into him harder, your hands resting on his chest for support. harry groans, his brows furrowing. "shit," he mutters, only encouraging you to go faster.

you could feel how wet you were through your panties. your stomach was tightening already, making you feel a bit embarrassed of your own desperation. seeing harry be so willing to please you only had you wanting him more.

just as you start to feel yourself blush at your lack of self control, you notice harry's panicked expression, his grip on your skin guaranteed to leave bruises. "what's wrong?" you ask, somewhat sarcastically and also concerned.

he struggles to get a sound out. "hmph, gonna, fuck, please, don't," he's stumbling through his words, barely able to keep his eyes focused on you. his hands try to stop your hips, but his grip his weak.

"stop what?" you ask curiously, slowing your hips slightly but rolling into him harder. harry moans, his hand covering his mouth hearing how loud it echoed through the tiny room. you just laugh at him and pull his hand away, guiding it to your chest. harry's eyes widen, trying to pull his hand away.

"stop, gonna…cum, if you don't," harry whimpers, squirming under your weight as his legs try to escape. you take your opportunity and pick up your pace, giving harry an evil smile.

"aw, already?" you ask, forcing his hand back to your chest. you guide his fingers along the curves of your breasts through your thin tank top, causing him to breathe even heavier. "you haven't even gotten to see these, and you're already about to cum? i was right, you're such a fucking loser, potter." you tell him, guiding his hand back under your shirt.

you can feel him struggling under you even more, his torso only getting sweatier. you just grab for his other hand and guide it under your shirt as well. he watches as intently as he can, his eyes still rolling back in pleasure at the pressure in his lap.

you help him lift his hands higher and higher until he's cupping your tits under your shirt, your breathing becoming hitched at the feeling of his rough fingers running across your sensitive nipples.

"fuck," you say under your breath, loud enough for harry to moan and grope you rougher, lifting your shirt above your tits. you gasp at the feeling and look back down at him, a sweaty mess with eyes barely open.

"please, please," harry starts begging, his hips still trying to squirm away from you. you place your hands on his sides and push him down, continuing to chase your high. "just stay still, harry," you nearly whimper. you realize you've never called him by his first name either.

that's when he comes completely unraveled beneath you. he's practically crying out in pleasure and desperation, his hands roughly squeezing the soft skin of your tits as his head is thrown back against the cot. just watching him fall apart like this has you shaking on top of him, feeling the warm wetness of your panties leaving a mark on harry's jeans.

it takes a few moments for both of you to come back to earth. harry's hands eventually loosen their grip on you before quickly pulling away, his eyes wide and panicked again. "sorry," he says quickly, his cheeks completely flushed.

you just shake your head and laugh, climbing off of harry's lap and adjusting your shirt. harry sits up and runs his hands through his hair, trying to catch his breath still.

the room is a bit awkward, but you eventually start to chuckle and push harry's shoulder lightly. "so…" you lead him on. harry chuckles as well, hanging his head low. "so…" he repeats, his voice still soft.

"so…is it wrong of me to assume you might actually like me?" you ask, picking up harry's jersey and handing it to him. he offers you a shy smile and puts it back on, shaking his head. "y'know, i'm not sure there's a way i could've made it more obvious." he admits half heartedly.

you laugh again, feeling a blush crawl up your cheeks. you turn away from him and grab your sweatshirt from the sink, the sleeve still completely stained.

"i really am sorry about that, i have a few you could borrow if you'd like." he says with a smirk, pointing towards your sweatshirt. you roll your eyes. "well, good to know your cockiness hasn't gone anywhere." you respond, suppressing a smile.

he chuckles. "never will." he says confidently. you give him a look and take a step towards him, causing him to swallow nervously.

you laugh at him again. "yeah, okay, pretty boy." you tease him, stepping away and towards the door. he follows behind you, still blushing like crazy.

leaving the exam room you notice all the nurses are still running around like lunatics, having no idea what's just happened only a few feet away from them. you and harry share a knowing look before running off together, laughing as you reach the halls.

"y'know," harry says between laughs, looking over at you with nothing but love in his eyes as you continue walking the empty halls. "don't think i'll go easy on you tomorrow just because of…that." he says, motioning behind him with a shy smile. you smile back at him and offer your hand. harry looks a bit hesitant, but shakes it anyway. "wouldn't want it any other way, potter."

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