#i litterally cry thinking about them

[queenunderthatmountain]

the way Luke and Jess either have the most heart breaking scenes or the ones that make you snort and giggle out loud there's no in between

[chososdiscordkitten]

Baby Fever?!

Synopsis: JJk men/reader have baby fever ≽^•⩊•^≼

Includes: 𝐆𝐨𝐣𝐨, 𝐓𝐨𝐣𝐢, 𝐍𝐚𝐨𝐲𝐚, 𝐆𝐞𝐭𝐨, 𝐍𝐚𝐧𝐚𝐦𝐢, 𝐇𝐢𝐠𝐮𝐫𝐮𝐦𝐚, 𝐧𝐝 𝐂𝐡𝐨𝐬𝐨 Content: afab!reader, topics of pregnancy, marriage, breeding, and having children. mostly nsfw (sorry anon) (a.n) Jesus my page has been full of baby fever nd marriage recently.

Dedicated to; this ask.

MDNI

Satoru Gojo

Ever since you first became official- Gojo had this little habit of asking to give you a baby. You always shook him off, telling him ‘no’ because it was far too soon and you were too young to start having children. 

Birth control became a necessity because of the little need he had to finish inside of you.

On one occasion of him asking the incessant question- you leaned in real close to his ear, “I will impregnate you.” you whispered.

This unlocked a whole other can of worms in Satoru’s mind. The urge to breed you was strong, but that little promise lit a fire in his soul. 

But one day, while out on a date- walking down an empty street, a child no older than 7 or 8 ran up to Satoru, Tears staining his cheeks and asking for his mom. 

Though you hardly saw Satoru interact with children in your daily life, you could see his demeanor change from a normal playful one to a more serious and authoritative one.

Crouching down to the child’s height and asking where he last saw his mom and his name—all with calm. 

You watched the little interaction unfold before you with wide eyes- the thought that Gojo was too immature to be a father completely being thrown from your mind as Satoru stood up straight and held the child’s hand in his. Guiding him back to where the child last saw his mom and reuniting the stressed mom and the crying child.

After that, more and more little instances Satoru did, made you start contemplating his little offer of giving you a child. 

Whenever you’d go shopping with him, you’d always pretend to accidentally stumble across the baby aisle.

Gojo perked a brow, watching your eyes admire the little socks attached to the onside in your hands. 

Corner of his lip curled up with a soft giggle, stepping over to you and whispering- “You’re actually considering having a kid?” he teased watching you furrow your eyebrows and hang the little onesie back on the rack. 

You shoved him with your elbow, scoffing and making a mental note to never bring this up again. 

That night, you were scrolling on your phone- watching any video that popped up of a chunky baby with a soft expression. 

Satoru was beside you, focused on his phone, but the sound of a child’s laughter made him look over at you with furrowed eyebrows- peeking over to your phone and watching the tiktok you were looking at. 

Some video of a mom showing their child’s massive hair bows- he was about to laugh at how silly the baby looked. Only he scanned your expression and got a hint as to why you hadn’t scrolled yet. 

Satoru rolled atop you, resting his head on your sternum and urging you to put your phone down. 

Holding his head in your hands- “I can give you a baby if you want one so bad~” he teased, causing you to furrow your eyebrows. 

Parting your lips with a soft gasp, “Satoru Gojo!” you feigned shock, whispering, “A child out of wedlock? What would the clan think?” you teased, mushing his cheeks together as he rolled his eyes. 

Pulling your hands from his cheeks and hoisting himself up- face to face as he placed a hand between your thighs, urging you to open them. 

Placing a kiss on your lips with a smile- “I am the clan.” he scoffed smugly. 

Toji Zenin

It all started with one little sentence he littered during intercourse, legs bent to your chest, and Toji pounding into you like his life depended on it. 

Something along the lines of, “Gonna breed this perfect pussy-” in a low husky tone. It was muttered- like his internal thoughts seeped from his lips without permission. 

But the words stayed in your mind- long after you had cleaned off his copious mess from your center. Even as Toji was snoring next to you- you stayed up thinking about the words he had muttered into the air. 

They made you squint thinking about the possibility of it. Questions you wish Toji was awake to ask him. 

Rare were the times he would sprinkle dirty talk during sex. But the way he said it, it wasn’t meant to be heard as dirty talk. The way it sounded was he spoke it as a proclamation. 

The next morning, when Toji woke up to your face pressed against his chest. Feeling your eyes watch him sleep, he woke up asking you what you needed. 

“You want to-” air caught in your throat, recalling what he said. “..breed me?” you whispered, looking at his hazy eyes and furrowed brow. 

Corner of his lip curled, “Where’d you get that idea?” he scoffed, closing his eyes and pretending not to feel your harsh gaze on his skin. 

“From you- you said it last night.”

Toji nodded ‘no’. As though the idea of him saying that was impossible. 

“Yes, you did- I heard you.” watching Toji’s smug face nod ‘no’ again. 

“You can’t gaslight me Toji- I heard you.” Your determination amused the man- feeling his chest rise in a half laugh against your cheek. 

Even a few days after- the thought lingered in your mind. Toji still refused to believe he said it- telling you that you were mistaken. 

And then Toji caught onto the feverlike smile you’d get on your cheeks whenever you’d see a baby in public. Smiling to himself as you pinched your eyebrows at the little humans. 

But there was this one time- on an elevator with a new mom and a baby in her hands. Toji noticed your staring as the woman struggled to reach into her purse, which caused it to fall and spill her belongings on the ground.

The woman sighed- looking down before peering her eyes back to you- “Could you?” she asked, holding out her baby to you- which you happily took and looked at Toji with the child in your arms. 

Toji swore his eye twitched as he watched you- happily bouncing the child in your arms before the woman reached her hands back to her child. 

After that, Toji started expressing his urgent need to breed you full of his children during intimacy- to which he still denied he said any of those things. 

“Whatever- as long as you don’t become a deadbeat again, I don’t care.” you scoffed, referring to his son he refused to talk about. 

Naoya Zenin

While he was dating you- Naoya took a lot of care in ensuring not to get you pregnant. “Children out of wedlock never result in anything good.” he would defend. He told you to start taking birth control- only you laughed in his face and said no.

That if he wanted to have safe sex- he would have to wear a condom. That you wouldn’t alter your body’s hormones just because he doesn’t wanna get you pregnant. And Naoya obliged. 

Midway through sex, pulling his ear down to your lips and telling him how much better it would feel without a condom- only for his eyes to shut tight- trying to keep his focus on not cumming, going as far as telling you to shut up. Multiple times, knowing if you didn’t, he might just listen to you.

Though you liked teasing him with the possibility. Asking if he didn’t want to see you barefoot and pregnant, waiting for him at home. Watching his neck pulse with a low gulp just thinking about it. 

In truth, you didn’t really want to get pregnant- Naoya had a point in the whole ‘marriage first, then kids.’ thing. You only liked watching his ears turn red and warm whenever you’d try and tempt him with having sex without a condom.

You didn’t think much of it- unknowing of the temptation brewing in Naoya’s mind with every waking day he didn’t marry you. 

Every time you whispered a temptation in his ear- the mental image of you waiting for him at home, swelled with his child and the future of his clan—Naoya was hanging on a very thin thread. 

And once he finally had the guts to ask you- it took very little time for the wedding to be planned. The thought of children was nowhere near your mind on the day. 

A small ceremony with his family, prancing you around like some trophy in front of the elders. 

And that night- Naoya held a gentle hand as he undid the little buttons of your wedding dress- carefully unwrapping you from the costly lace. 

You found it odd- sure. Naoya wasn’t usually the type to take things slow and gentle in this department. 

But when you looked at him, his hips between your knees with your back on the bed. Looking up at Naoya as he undid the buttons of his dress shirt- “We’re not stopping till you’re pregnant.” he huffed, tossing his shirt aside and easing himself onto the bed. 

Had you known your little temptations and offers of unprotected sex would cause his brain to rewire the idea of having kids- you still would’ve done it. Maybe with a little more tact though. 

Naoya no longer saw it as another responsibility of being head of the clan- he saw it as an opportunity to breed you again- and again. Till you were so full there was no other choice than to get pregnant. 

Suguru Geto

All it took was Suguru showing you pictures of him and the two girls he adopted when he left Jujutsu High and telling you countless stories behind the photos for you to look at him differently. 

You saw a certain change in the way you looked at him. No longer a father figure to two teenage girls, you saw him as an actual father. 

Mouthy and mean as those girls could be, you saw how gentle he was with them anyway. And you knew he could make a phenomenal father. 

You chose a tactless form of asking him. Sitting at the table eating breakfast- looking at his soft expression. 

“Would you be a dad again?” 

Suguru looked at you with furrowed eyebrows- “...Again?” unsure of when the first time he became a father was. 

You rolled your eyes, urging him to answer the question with a sigh. 

“Depends.” Geto murmured, looking back down to his phone and earning a kick from your socked foot. 

You scoffed, “On?” 

“If we are stable- money wise, and if the conditions are right.” he grinned, wondering where this topic came from. 

Your cheeks tingled in the slightest when he used ‘we’ to refer to becoming parents, answering another question you had. 

Suguru thought back to the question again, lightly raising his eyebrows at realizing what you were asking. 

“With…You?” 

You laughed- “No Suguru- with your next partner.” tone full of sarcasm as he rolled his eyes. 

“I would be open..?” he squinted, trying to gauge where you stood on this. Watching your face go unchanged at his response- wanting to hear the truth, not just something that he said catered to your opinion. “...To it?”

You grinned, “Suguru, this isn’t a trick question. Just answer honestly.” assuring him that this was a necessary conversation in a relationship. 

He gulped lightly, trying to shake away the worries of saying the wrong thing. Placing his phone on the table and looking at you with his hands between his knees. “I would love-” he grinned, cheeks blushed and avoidant of your gaze. “To have children with you.” 

You couldn’t help the shy little laugh that left your lips- “But we are a smidge too young- don’t you think?” you grinned, watching his head nod with a scoffing smile. 

“I did the teen dad thing- so maybe a little too young.” he joked- 

You nodded agreeingly, looking at him with love filled eyes- “We’ll wait till we are 40.” you grinned, watching his shoulders move in a small giggle. 

“Till 50- if we can.” 

Kento Nanami

You both had been toying with the idea of children. Small comments like, “Awe Ken-” looking at him with a soft smile. “You would be a wonderful dad.” whenever he talked about the fears of becoming a father. 

The talk of kids was spoken early in your relationship. Often were the times when the conversation of how many would come up a few minutes before bed. 

Playing with your hand in the dark, lying on your back with Nanami beside you. 

“How many?” You asked softly- hearing Nanami hum, close to falling asleep. 

A low exhale left his lips; “Two. Maybe three.” His voice husky from how close he was to falling asleep. But he was always happy to answer your questions- knowing they would keep you up if he didn’t answer. 

Rolling over onto your side and placing your head on his chest, “Twins?” you asked with a smile. Picturing the future with him as he put his hand onto your back.

Nanami let out a soft exhale with a smile. “Twins are a handful,” he spoke softly, his eyes daring to drift off to sleep as you caressed his torso.

You thought about it- remembering that you would have to carry them. “Okay. No twins.” 

Hearing his heartbeat against your ear as you thought of another question. 

“When?” 

Nanami gruffed a soft laugh, rubbing small circles on your back. “We’d have to be married first.” he mumbled. 

“Then wait a year or two.” his voice dwindling its tone as he eased into the exhaustion.

You furrowed your eyebrows, “Why?” softly blinking your eyes. 

“A year of blissful marital life before children come into the picture.” Nanami spoke, half asleep, as the tiny part of his brain that filtered his words refused to work. 

You grinned, “You wanna marry me?” softly giggling against his chest.

Nanami sighed- pressing his hand onto your back a little firmer, holding you close. “I do. Dunno why I haven’t ask you yet.” his words breathy and bordering on sleeping. 

“Should get on that-” he exhaled, hearing his breathing ease into a heavier pattern against your ear.

After that, conversations about children only came up more and more. There was talk of names and if you’d move into a house instead of an apartment. 

Slowly your own baby fever stuck onto him- you sending tiktoks of the chunky babies you’d get on your fyp didn’t help either. 

The words “Practicing won’t hurt” were uttered whenever you mentioned the word breeding. All too thankful to the iud you had, knowing the apartment would be crawling with children if you didn’t have it. 

Hiromi Higuruma

When you started letting Hiromi cum inside- he kinda just assumed that you were on something. Never hesitating to give you what you asked him for. 

But Hiromi started getting the hints that you had a particular itch in your brain that only he could scratch. 

The topic came up when you joined him for lunch- sitting outside a sandwich shop and hearing Hiromi talk about a case debriefing after this. 

Too focused on telling you about it before he realized you had stopped listening. 

Eyes looking off to the side and your thumbs twiddling in your lap. 

“Honey?” he asked, looking in the direction you were looking and seeing a mother playing with her child. Snapping your gaze back to him- 

“Sorry.” Softly exhaling, “Sorry- you were saying?” 

Hiromi furrowed his eyebrows, watching your eyes glimmer with a nervous light. Reaching a hand out to yours, “What’s wrong?” he asked- all too intuitive at what the look on your face meant. 

“Nothing- it’s okay.” Squeezing his hand assuringly. 

Hiromi raised a brow- parting his lips about to speak only for you to interrupt him. 

“Do you want kids?” preferring to rip the bandaid off rather than ease into a conversation. 

He inhaled again- only for you to speak again. “With me. I mean.” 

The corners of his lips curled, almost in a teasing smile. 

Hiromi sighed, thinking about the question and looking down to his half-finished sandwich. 

“I’ve never been in a relationship serious enough for the talk of children to come up.” he grinned, leaving your question unanswered. 

“You’ve never thought about it?” holding his hand tightly. Scared that you were illusioning yourself into a future Hiromi didn’t want. 

Hiromi tilted his head- thinking about it.

“I think I do…?” 

You pursed your lips, unsatisfied with the half answer. And Hiromi let out a blushed scoff- “If wanting kids meant wanting them with you- i do.” he clarified. Earning for you to look at him with soft eyes and a wiggling pout. 

“You mean-?” you pouted, looking at him with a soft expression. 

His eyes widened at the sudden severity in your gaze, not knowing how much his confirmation meant to you. 

Raising his hand to your lips and pressing a light peck on his knuckles “Can we?” 

“...Now?” 

You scoffed, “No, not now.” with a soft smile.

Hiromi exhaled, thinking of having an actual child- “How ’bout we focus on getting married first?” 

Choso Kamo

Ever since the first time you had sex- Choso always finished inside, no patience nor ability to time his orgasm and pull out in time. 

Not recalling the repercussions of unprotected sex- nor really caring. 

And when the conversation of children came up- You insisted on giving him an army of children. “I think it’s what you deserve.” To which he looked at you as though something awakened in his mind when you said that. 

While on dates, he would see an overly large family struggling to keep the many children in check. He would look at you and remember what you had said. 

‘An army of children.’

Between the two of you- he caught babyfever first. 

Walking through a strip mall- looking for a new pair of shoes when you passed a baby store. 

Choso tugged your hand, looking at you eagerly and leading you into the store. “Just to look,” he said. 

Holding onto a tiny pair of shoes, looking at you, and presenting them in his palm. “Are these really meant to fit a child?” 

You let out a small giggle, nodding your head yes and watching him prattle around the store. 

Asking you questions- as though you had any more idea than he did. 

Watching your face uninterested in the window shopping he was doing- “You don’t want to have kids anymore?” furrowed eyebrows and determined to cut the window shopping if you didn’t. 

You grinned, “Of course I still want to have kids.” taking his hand and placing it on your tummy as though you were already pregnant. 

Eyes wide and cheeks pink as he rested his hand onto your tummy. “You gotta pump a baby in me first.” Smiling at the fact he was already looking for things for a child that hadn’t been conceived yet. 

His mind sparked the idea of watching you grow big with his child. Made his eye twitch knowing that if you acted on your promise. That image wouldn’t be just an idea in Choso’s mind. 

Marriage didn’t make a difference to him- only a meaningless piece of paper. Like a license, or a ssn number, or money. (he’s in denial)

So the next time you had intercourse- Choso accidentally overstimulated himself. Keeping your words of ‘Pump a baby in me.’ in mind as you allowed him to pump you full of potential children. 

You did say an army of them. And Choso was more than happy to assist in creating the small army. 

-

𝐍𝐞𝐱𝐭: play fighting with the jjk men!

[bi-writes]

i NEED to know how simon would react to his mail order bride getting all pretty one night.... like maybe the night of their wedding... and she's all nervous because she thinks he expects sex and she's so paranoid about offending him or making the wrong noises or just being a nuisance

mail-order bride

simon and mail order bride did not having a wedding; they are married before they meet. have a peek into their first evening together. (18+)

simon laid your suitcase down onto the floor of his bedroom. you look around anxiously, eyeing the bedroom that is supposed to be your own. there's a king-sized bed in the middle of the room, matching dark-wood nightstands on each side. there's one that's clearly being used, a phone charging there and a half-full glass of water.

there's a dresser on the far wall, littered with picture frames and small trinkets, seemingly from other countries. little russian dolls and different fabrics from different places, wooden elephants and small dishes of wonderful patterns. there's a few drawers open there, and when you make your way closer, you can see it's because they're empty. he must've emptied them out for you to use.

there's one picture frame that's face-down. you pick it up to peek at it, and you smile when you look at the picture there. it's simon and a few similarly-looking people. simon is in uniform, face clear of scars. there's an older woman on one side of him, and then on the other side is a little family of three, a sweet couple and a little toddler on the woman's hip. you put it back down facing up before turning back to your suitcase.

you were supposed to just put your pajamas on. simon had been cleaning up the kitchen, and you figure that meant it was time for bed. you rummage through your suitcase, going to reach for your pajamas when you see the little lingerie set you packed.

it still has the tags on it. it's a red pair of lace panties with a matching bra, complete with little crystal bows and lots of detail. you clutch the lace in your hands, looking towards the door. simon doesn't seem like the kind of man to ask you to do something you wouldn't want to do. but you don't know what his expectations might be. you don't know how he intends his wife to behave.

you stand and take the undergarments with you to the bathroom. you change into them, sliding the pieces on and adjusting them until they fit you nicely. you swallow hard as you look in the mirror, smoothing your hands over your body; your tummy, your thighs, over your breasts. you don't know if he'll even like what he sees. you don't know what he expected you to look like, if he got to choose, if he knows what you are underneath and wanted you because of it or in spite of it.

when you come out of the bathroom, simon is rummaging through one of his drawers. when he turns around to face you, he immediately turns back around.

"fuckin' christ--what the fuck are y'doin'?"

you flinch at the bite of his voice. you wrap your arms around yourself in an attempt to self-soothe, your eyes tearing immediately as you take in his reaction.

"i..." you stutter. "i...i-i thought--"

"you thought wot?" he snaps, and when he turns around to come closer, you panic, taking the straps in shaking hands and starting to pull them down your arms for him. "no, fuck, stop that--"

he puts his hands over yours before your breasts can spill out of the bra. he narrows his eyes at you, shaking his head, and you start to cry softly.

"s-simon, i'm sorry--i-i thought--"

"shhh," he shushes you. "just...quiet."

your bottom lip trembles as he takes the lace straps of your bra delicately and brings them back up, smoothing them back onto your shoulders. you close your eyes when he cups your cheeks, big thumbs wiping at your face as he soothes you silently.

when simon emerges in the bathroom, he tries to be subtle as he cups himself through his boxers, sighing deeply as he flicks the light on. he jumps a little as he steps back, the cat sitting on the edge of the sink and staring at him knowingly.

simon gives it the finger before shooing it back outside.

[always-just-red]

A multi-headcanon request please. How the boys react when they discover their s/o has been hiding a wound from them because she had it under control and didn't want to give them something else to worry about

Hi! Thanks so much for the request and all the support! Have written a little fic for each of the guys, starring... - Xavier, Deepspace Hunter extraordinaire ✨ - Linkon's worst best baking partner, Zayne 🍪 - Drama queen Rafayel 👑 - King of self-care, Sylus 💅

Putting On A Brave Face

L&DS Boys x Reader

Summary: Sometimes, a certain hunter likes to say things are fine when they definitely aren't...

Genre: A lil bit of angst, mostly fluff + comfort!

Warnings/Additional tags: female reader, established relationship, swearing, canon pet names, some injury details/blood mentioned, teeeeency bit of suggestion (I'm looking at YOU, Sylus...)

| Word count: 4k (1k each!) | Masterlist | Opt-in to my taglist here!

Disclaimer: Characters belong to Love and Deepspace. All work is my own, so please don't repost or plagiarise!

Xavier ⭐

This is bad. Not ‘end of everything as we know it’ bad, but definitely ‘an obscene amount of paperwork’ bad.

You clutch one of your pistols to your chest— deep breath— and you listen carefully, your head leant back against the rock you’re using as cover. Your mind latches on to every sound: each growl, each rumble of earth that marks the movements of the Wanderers that have trapped you here.

You’ve fought worse odds, but then again, you don’t usually have to do it with a broken leg.

Or maybe just sprained? You shift a little, trying to move, and the pain that sears through you settles the debate in an instant. Your teeth sink into the back of your hand to keep you from crying out.

You hope Xavier’s ok. You sent him your co-ordinates minutes ago, and the lack of response has worry gnawing away at the deepest parts of you. You check your hunter’s watch.

Still nothing.

Another deep breath, and you readjust your position as much as you can. Balancing on your good leg, you manage to peer over the top of the rock to get a visual of your surroundings.

There’s four, no— five Wanderers. Stupid no-hunt zone; you’re never not outnumbered.

You can see your second pistol, abandoned in the middle of the clearing where you’d dropped it. There’s flickers of movement, too: further in the woods. More Wanderers. Shit.

You duck behind the rock you’re starting to think might be your new home. Then your watch flickers, broadcasting a map of the area, and there’s the co-ordinates of another hunter, closing in fast.

Something flashes in the clearing, lighting the dark of the forest like a stutter of lightning. Then again. Then again. There’s a blood-curdling roar, and it ends— abrupt— with another flash.

Everything goes silent, save for a familiar voice calling your name.

“Xavier!” you call back.

You peek over the rock to see your partner jogging towards you, dead Wanderers littered behind him. “Are you alright?” he asks, his voice soft as always, but his sword is still dripping blood.

“I’m ok.” You clamber up, using the rock as a seat when the small effort almost breaks you. “You?”

Xavier draws close— his gloved hands on your face, cupping your cheeks. His thumb grazes over a shallow scrape on your brow. “Yeah,” he answers.

“Did you find that weird Wanderer?”

He shakes his head: no. Steps back to check his watch. “It’s probably moved on to a different zone by now.”

“Then we should look for it,” you say, standing up. All of your weight is on one leg.

“Ah,” Xavier ponders, rubbing his neck, “really? I thought we should maybe head back.”

“No need.” And what’s the plan here, exactly? You can’t walk. You definitely can’t fight. Maybe you can wait here while he— no. He’s never going to leave you. “I told you I’m ok.”

“But you’re not.”

“I am,” you assert. You’re determined to convince him and your own, useless body. It’s just a sprain. It is just a sprain. You take a step forwards and stumble, your bad leg crumpling beneath you.

Xavier catches you, strong and solid, and he's holding you like you’re something delicate. He sets you down on the rock again. The pain is making your vision swim.

“You’re hurt,” he reasons gently, even though the truth of it is a knife that’s twisting in your heart. He seems to sense your reluctance: “There’s no shame in admitting that. It happens. Let’s go back.”

“No.”

“Why?”

“Because I’m slowing you down, Xavier!” you gush. Your heart is split open and it has to bleed somewhere. “You have no idea what it’s like… being your partner.”

He’s looking at you with so much guilt and gods, you wish that somewhere was anywhere but his hands. “What do you mean?” he asks on a shaky breath.  

“I love working with you.” Soften the blow. “I love being with you, but you don’t need me. You’re this incredible hunter. This figure of legend, of everyone’s stories. You can do so much on your own and I just don’t know how to keep up. I mean, look at me— I can’t.”

You feel sick. Empty. “You shouldn’t have to hang back for me,” you finish limply. “You’re you, Xavier. You can fight like a hundred Wanderers and still come out unscathed.”

The blue of Xavier’s eyes has grown understandably more turbulent, though it settles a little. He seems to relax. “Yeah… about that,” he mumbles hesitantly.

He turns around and your mouth drops. A savage cut drapes like a crimson sash down his back, splitting the white of his uniform. It’s not deep enough to be fatal, but it’s not good, either.

“Wha— Xavier!” you exclaim, trying to surge forwards, but your pain keeps you rooted. “You said you were ok!”

“So did you,” he frowns, bewildered. “Can we get out of—”

“Yeah, yeah.” You let him take your arm and help you to your feet.

He leads you through the clearing and into the forest, supporting your weight as you hop along beside him. There’s a murmur about how he should carry you, but you’re quick to reassure him he’s doing enough. You’re both hurting; you both just need to survive the short walk out of the no-hunt zone, where a med team can take over.

“You don’t slow me down, you know,” Xavier says quietly, after a minute of silence. “You’re the reason I can keep going.”

You squeeze his arm affectionately, mustering a smile even though you’re nauseous with pain and the idea that he’s been dwelling on your speech this whole time. “Well,” you chuckle through gritted teeth, “you’re gonna have to learn how to get by without me.”

“Huh?” He gives you a curious look.

You glance down at your leg. “Zayne’s gonna kill me...”

Zayne ❄

“I’m a doctor.”

You stop what you’re doing to fix Zayne with a questioning stare. “Ok…?”

“I’ve published dozens of research papers. Pioneered new surgical techniques. My work on Evol-based regenerative properties still has lasting implications for my field, and I’ve the accolades to show for it. The Starcatcher Award. The Linde Award, too— I was the youngest ever recipient.”

None of this is news to you, and you can’t help chuckling at this change in your usually-humble physician. You humour him: “The youngest ever recipient, huh?” There’s a crack as you split an egg on the side of the bowl in front of you. “That’s very impressive.”

“Is it?”

Zayne stands from his seat at your kitchen table: you hear the chair draw back. You feel his presence arrive behind you as you continue to stir your soon-to-be cookie dough. “Yeah,” you lilt with a smile.

“Really?” he pushes again, and his arms wrap around you as he bends to speak into your ear. “Because someone seems to think I can’t even recognise a—” he nips at it— “sprained ankle.”

His breath is warm on your neck and you let out a giggle. “Keep speaking to me like that and these cookies are never making it into the oven. Or your stomach.”

The man relents. He releases you, not returning to his seat but opting to lean against the kitchen counter instead. You glance up at him; he stares back, waiting for an actual answer.

“My ankle is fine, Zayne.”

There’s a sigh as he crosses his arms.

“It is,” you insist, even though you did sprain your ankle at work today, it does hurt like hell, and you do just want to sit down. You reach for the flour you’d measured out previously, tipping it into the larger bowl. “If it wasn’t, would I really be here— making you cookies?”

“Yes,” he says plainly.

“You’re delusional.”

“Ok.”  

Well, that was a little too easy. Don’t overthink it, and definitely don’t read into the fact that he’s standing there oh-so-smugly, like he knows something you don’t. You finish stirring the flour into the mixture, then add the last of the ingredients. Just a pinch of salt, and then…

Where did you put the chocolate chips? You glance about yourself but they’re nowhere in sight. “Hey, Zayne? Have you seen the—”

“This cupboard,” he indicates with an upwards nod of his head. His eyes are relentless. “Top shelf.”

Ah. That’s ok. You’ve totally got this. You move beneath the cupboard, opening it and gazing up into the contents. You can see the pack of chocolate chips. You can get up there somehow, right?

“Would you like me to—” Zayne starts, but you cut him off:

“Nope.” You put your hands on your hips. “Please�� if I can climb the back of an alive, awake, and very angry deluge wyrmlord to put a sword through its skull, I think I can make it onto the kitchen counter in one piece. Lemme just…”

Your knee lifts. You make it about a centimetre from the floor before Zayne’s hands are on your waist, grounding you. “Stop,” he instructs, and it's not a tone that allows for any rebuttal. Satisfied by your silence, he brings the chocolate chips down to you.

“Thanks,” you say quietly as they’re placed on the counter.

“You’re welcome."

Sheepishly, you spill a generous amount of chocolate chips into the cookie mixture. Your throat hurts in the way that keeps you from saying anything more. You already feel like an idiot, and your eyes are watering, threatening to make you look like even more of one.

Zayne’s hand appears in front of you, hovering over the bowl. You laugh in understanding: giving the half-empty bag another shake so chocolate chips fall into his palm.

“You… don’t have to explain yourself,” he says as he lifts them to his mouth. His next words are muffled: “But you can tell me anything, my love. I never want you to feel as though you can’t.”

You chuckle again; you can’t help yourself. Look at him: your oh-so-serious doctor shovelling chocolate into his mouth. He raises an eyebrow at you, his lips still on his palm.

“I know I can tell you anything,” you smile, the ache in your throat receding, however much the rest of you hurts. “I did sprain my ankle. It’s not that I wanted to hide it from you, it’s just—” you stop stirring the mixture— “it’s just that your whole life is taking care of people at the hospital. You should get a break from it. You should get to be Zayne, here… at home. Just Zayne, not Doctor Zayne.”

Zayne’s hazel eyes have taken on a hue of regret. He pushes his glasses further up the bridge of his nose, buying himself a few seconds as he contemplates. “Are you a doctor?” he asks after a moment.

“No?”

“And yet, here you are, taking care of me.” He reaches for the abandoned packet of chocolate chips. “Tell me, does it feel like work to you?”

“Yeah,” you tease, drawing the packet away from his stretching fingers in explanation; you’re both grinning.

“Well, it never feels like work to me. Just Zayne likes taking care of you. And right now? He wants to bundle you up on the sofa and finish these cookies for you.”

You purse your lips: that’s some dubious wording. “Zayne, hell will freeze over before I leave you and this cookie dough unsupervised.”

He shushes you, pulling on the cord of your apron until the bow at your back comes loose. Before you can protest, he’s wearing the apron himself.

“Zayne, I’m not kidding. I know what you’re gonna do. You’re gonna get rid of me, and then you’ll—”

“Shh,” he coos again, whisking you carefully off your feet, because it’s time for a taste of your own medicine. “You’re delusional.”

Rafayel 🔥

“Mmhmm. Mmhmm.”

“Raf, who are you—”

He holds out a finger to shush you. “Mmhmm.”

You cross your arms impatiently. Who is he even talking to, anyway? His lilac eyes are locked on you as he continues humming away, apparently very invested in whatever the person on the phone is saying; you’ve never seen him go this long without talking.

He narrows his eyes at you. You narrow your eyes right back.

All around you, guests of the exhibition are milling about, all dressed to the nines and minding their business, however much they want the attention of the man in front of you. A few of them linger as they pass him, like they want to say something, like they’re going to say something…

But they don’t.

It’s a wonder that Rafayel stands out in the crowd as much as he does. You’d seamlessly located him, back from your third trip to the bathroom to check on the bandages you’ve managed to conceal beneath this dress. He’s still holding your purse for you, his phone in his other hand, except—

That’s your phone. That’s your phone! “Rafayel!”

He shushes you again. “I understand,” he says solemnly, notably not to you, “thanks for letting me know.” The call is ended. He takes a deep, collected breath, then looks at you. “I knew it!”

“Knew what? Who was that?”

“Zayne.”

“You called Zayne?”

“Like I had a choice!” Rafayel retaliates. It is true; he’s spent the entire evening trying to get you to admit something was wrong, and you had no intention of giving him that pleasure. “You’re supposed to be in the hospital! What kind of idiot breaks out of the hospital?”

The lack of irony in the question almost breaks you. “Umm… you?! Like every other week?!”

He shrugs. “That’s different.”

“Rafayel, I swear, I’m gonna— ah!” you gasp in pain. You’d stepped forwards too quickly— maybe to strangle him, but that’s neither here nor there— and the wound on your side is clearly on his side. It stings like hell: punishing you, and you know the pain is self-inflicted.

Rafayel frowns in concern, maybe even guilt, and that’s why you didn’t tell him. “C’mon, we should go,” he insists gravely.

“It’s fine, Raf. It doesn’t even—”

“Stop lying! You said you wouldn’t hide stuff like this from me. You promised, remember?”

You’re losing track of all the promises you’ve made to the Lemurian, but you do remember that one. Guilt has its teeth in you, too. “I know,” you grumble, “I’m sorry, ok? I just knew—”

“What?”

“That you’d act like this! You’ve been working on this exhibition for months, Raf. Tonight is supposed to be about you. Not me— you. And I want it to stay that way. Everyone’s here to celebrate you and your work, and that’s how it should be. That’s what I want. To support you. To be here for you.”

Your voice has gone timid. You finish meekly: “Can’t you let me do this for you? Please?”

Rafayel’s eyes are wide and still the prettiest things you’ve ever seen, even in a room full of masterpieces and jewels you could never afford. They shine with uncertainty, but soften as he smiles, full of fondness and affection. “That’s sweet. But also? Really dumb.”

“Raf—”

“The only— and I mean only— reason I’m here tonight is because you are. I don’t care about what anyone thinks about me or my paintings. Just you. And you can see this?” He gestures around the gallery. “Anytime. My life’s your private exhibition, cutie. Exclusive access, 24/7, and I wouldn’t want it any other way.”

He steps closer to you: close enough that he can see the tear that’s made it halfway down your cheek. He wipes it away with a chuckle. “Plus,” he adds, “I know you know I’m amazing. You don’t need these old sourpusses to tell you that, do you?”

You laugh tentatively. “No, I don’t.”

Your injury protests as you use the lapels on Rafayel’s blazer to pull him closer; you have to stand on your tiptoes to kiss his cheek. He’s still grinning as he draws away, a light blush on his cheeks, but the sweetness of the moment vanishes as his gaze drifts lower.

“My eyes are up here, Rafayel.”

“Yeah…” he concedes mindlessly, but then he points: “you know you’re like, bleeding, right?”

You glance downwards to where the red of your dress is turning darker. There’s just a small splotch, but it’s growing. Shit. You must have reopened the wound.

“Thomas?” you hear Rafayel call, and then he’s stuffing a silk handkerchief into your hands— helping you apply pressure. “We have to get out of here,” he explains as a figure joins you.

His agent folds his arms; this is not dissimilar to stunts you and Rafayel have pulled before. “Fake blood, guys? Really?” He pinches the bridge of his nose. “You can’t leave, Rafayel. I can just see the headlines tomorrow…”

“Dashing artist selflessly flees exhibition to save devoted bodyguard,” Rafayel concurs with a nod.

Thomas groans. “That’s not what they’re going to—”

“Help me out with this, cutie?”

“Yes, sir,” you mock salute.

A moment later, Rafayel has scooped you up into his arms. Your hero; he gives you a conspiratorial wink before glancing about frantically. “Quickly!” he cries out. “Everyone out of the way, please!”

“For the love of—” Thomas starts.

“Oh, gods!” you shout in agony. “It hurts. It hurts!”

Heads turn. Cameras flash.

Tomorrow morning, half of Linkon will be talking about one of their favourite celebrities and his long-envied bodyguard. A news article will pop-up on her doctor’s phone, and he’ll see the pictures and sigh.

Sylus 🩸

“It’s not too late to back down, sweetie,” Sylus sneers.

“Aw, but you got all dressed up for the occasion.”

Your eyes rake over the outline of the man’s abs, courtesy of the tank top he’s wearing, and it does take the sting out of the fact that he’ll be trying to hit you. He holds his wrapped hands before him, ready to defend, ready to attack. He’ll probably attack, right?

“Last chance,” he growls.

“Is it, though?” This is the third ‘last chance’ you’ve been given in the five minutes you’ve been teetering on combat. You beckon him with a curl of your fingers. “Come on, Sylus. This is getting old.”

He scoffs: “How do you think I feel?”

“Like you’re about to get your ass kicked?”

“Alright, enough.” His hands drop and it feels like you’re back at the academy, about to be scolded for not taking something seriously. Sylus turns his back on you. Moves to the edge of the boxing ring so he can retrieve a stool from outside of it and sit down in a huff. He starts peeling the wraps from his knuckles, and— wait, is he mad? Like, actually mad?

“What’s wrong, Sy?”

He laughs as though you’re missing something dreadfully obvious. Maybe irony.

“Sylus?”

“You really are heartless, sweetie. You know that?”

The words steal your breath away, if only for a moment. Yours is a relationship of pulled punches, but he won’t meet your gaze and that one was real, wasn’t it? He wanted it to sting. “Why—”

“I could have hurt you,” he snaps, his dishevelled, snowy hair falling to cover his eyes. His discarded wraps slide from his hands, pooling by his feet like blood. “You were going to let me hurt you.”

He looks at you, finally, but it’s not in the way you want. His gaze is cast low, trailing over your body and making you feel every bruise, every closed cut that wants to reopen and every ache, rooted almost to bone. You’d done your best to hide it, even going so far as to press make-up hastily over your purpled skin.

That Wanderer really did a number on you yesterday.  

“You should have told me,” Sylus says, since you’ve made it onto the same page. “Honestly, kitten. Why would you—”

“Because Luke and Kieran told me, ok?”

Oh, they’re going to kill you. It was supposed to be a secret, and here you are, spilling like a fresh wound because you can’t stand the thought of Sylus being upset with you. You step closer, scrambling to dissect what you’ve done right in front of his eyes— holding it out to him: this is why. This is why. “They said you had a rough week. Some deals of yours had fallen through or something. And I’ve been too busy. I haven’t called, I haven’t even texted, and…”

You need him to understand, but the truth is a mess in your hands and how do you even start to explain it to him?

“You wanted to do something for me,” he finishes for you, and you don’t have to explain a thing.

“Yeah…” you confirm, bittersweet and still sad. “You do so much for me, Sylus. I just wanted to do what you wanted, for a change.”

Maybe it’s a round of boxing. Maybe it’s a dozen illicit dealings where he needs you to play enforcer— it doesn’t matter. As long as he’s happy.

“Come here,” he orders gently.

You close the rest of the rift between you, letting him reach for you and pull you closer. His knees have spread so you can slot against him, and his arms circle around you— trapping you— as he nuzzles into the warmth of your stomach.

“I’m sorry I called you heartless,” he speaks into you, his voice muffled as he gives you a chaste kiss. He then cranes his head upwards, resting his chin against you so he can profess more clearly: “I do worry about you, kitten.”

“I know—” your hands move to his head— “I’m sorry too. I shouldn’t have lied to you.”

“Mmm,” he hums in accordance, maybe even forgiveness, and his eyes close as your fingers card through the soft of his hair. “I lied too.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah,” he confesses on a contented sigh. “I didn’t want to spend today… boxing.”

“What do you want to do today, Sy?”

His eyes flicker open and his hands find your hips. “What I really want…” he contemplates, as his thumbs slip under the hem of your shirt to rub circles on your skin, “is to take care of you.”

There are lifetimes of need in his gaze.

“Won’t you let me take care of you, sweetie?”

…

“If he finds the terms so disagreeable, then he’s more than welcome to take his business elsewhere. Although—” Sylus’s voice is cold— “he might find his other options less… amenable than when he saw them last. Less communicative, too. You can tell him I said so.”

He ends the phone call. Smiles. “Sorry about that, sweetie.”

“Are the boys ok?”

The smile widens, even though you can’t see it. “They’re fine.”

Phone set aside, Sylus carries on with the important business Kieran’s call had distracted him from. You’re half asleep, your head in his lap as he brushes your hair: rose-scented and soft from the bath he’d drawn for you, hours ago. Every bandage is fresh and clean. Every ache has been dulled with a lazy massage and more chaste kisses, for good measure.

“Perfect day,” you mumble blissfully.

“Perfect day,” Sylus agrees.

[yuiiiriii]

synopsis : after a traumatic event, Jay, a complete stranger, has only did anything but comfort you. From the night you guys met, it was only humane to fall for one another.

includes : 5.9k words, strangers to lovers, undergroundfighter!jay x reader, smut! (mdni), teasing jay, f!oral receiving, possessive and jealous jay:3

warnings : assault, harassment, overthinking, miscommunication

The streets of Seoul were cold like no other. Approaching winter, it was only obvious. Yet you still forgot to pack a jacket. So you clutch yourself and your bag as you walk down the late night streets. Work was tiring as always and you wanted nothing more but to succumb to your bed.

As you walked your familiar route you always winced at a specific dark alley, it always made you uneasy. You find yourself almost past it when you’re being tugged harshly by your wrist. The lamppost only growing smaller as your tugged into the alley. Your fight or flight mode comes on and you scream. Pushing, punching, kicking, anything you could to get this random guy off of you.

He pins you to the wall, his big hand clasping over your mouth and nose, closing your airways. Your hyperventilating, sobbing, tugging at this guys arm. But he’s just too strong and as you’re still fighting, you slowly feel yourself slipping away. Vision going blurry as a tear runs down your cheek.

Jay leaves the convenience store with a bag in his hand. It’s late, yes, but it’s somehow still busy. So he pulls his hood up, hiding the cuts and bruises that litter his face and lips. He opens his bag of chips, popping one in his mouth. As he gazes at the cars passing by his body freezes and body chills when he hears a scream. His head shoots towards the dark alley and without a thought he’s sprinting in, dropping his bag.

He doesn’t even have to go that far when he sees you struggling. His eyes widen, the pure fear in your eyes. He retracts his hand, clenching his fist, he socks the man in the face. You fall to the ground, choking and gasping for air.

When you look to the side you see a guy on top of the man, beating him to a pulp. You pull your legs to your chest, shaking like a leaf. Jay pants, giving one last kick to the guy, he turns to you, his brows immediately pulling together. He kneels in front of you.

“Hey, let’s go back in to the city okay?” He says softly, lightly grabbing the sides of your arms and lifting you up.

He leads you to a bench, back into the streets. He stares at you worriedly and your gaze is so far off. Your cheeks have a little bruising, making Jay clench his fist. Your eyes are a little wide, tears still lacing them, and your breaths still ragged. You’re shivering so he doesn’t waste a second in unzipping his sweater, putting it around you.

That seems to snap you out of it and you stare up at him. You blink down at your wrists, noticing they were marked from how hard the guy held them. You begin to cry again, rubbing at your wrists harshly. Jay kneels down again, quickly grabbing your hands.

“Hey it’s okay, you’re okay.” He whispers, you glance into his eyes and they look so sincere. You notice a cut on his cheek and you gasp.

“Oh no, you’re hurt.” You whisper, your hand coming up to glide along it. Jay’s eyes widen a bit but he smiles regardless.

“I’m totally fine, let’s worry about you yeah?” His lips pull together in a small smile. You nod, staring at his hands still clasped in yours.

It’s a little odd how you’re very touchy with this guy, he’s a complete stranger. But there’s something so comforting and soothing about him, maybe it’s because he just saved your life but you think it’s more than that.

“Were you…walking home?” He sits down next to you, you hum. He pouts and you let out a giggle.

“I know. Stupid right? I just didn’t think I’d be out of work so late and I live really close by so…” You drift off, Jay does his best to keep you distracted.

“Oh, did you want a ride?” He immediately sputters.

“Uh, I mean, maybe I could walk you home?” He didn’t want to make you feel uncomfortable in any way and he was pretty sure getting into a strangers car was the last thing you wanted.

“Sure.” You smile, the both of you falling into step with each other.

“So do you always work late?” He breaks the silence, in no way was it awkward but he’d be lying if he didn’t want to get to know you more.

“Kinda? I don’t know stuff at the office has been more demanding lately. So I have to stay overtime.” You pout and he smiles, only because you look so adorable.

You reach the gate to your apartment and turn around to him. He seems to be pondering and you perk up.

“Oh! Your sweater!” You move to take it off but he stops you, sliding the fabric over you once again and zipping it up.

“It’s cold. Just keep it.” He smiles and you open your mouth to protest but he stops you.

“Would you want me to walk you home from work?” You blink, you were already home.

“You mean like…for the next time?” You tilt your head and he laughs.

“Yea, for the next time.” You quickly raise your hands.

“You really don’t need to! You’ve helped me so much already.” You play with the string from his sweater.

“Well, to be honest, I don’t know if I’d be happy with myself if you weren’t safe.” He mumbles, a faint blush on his cheeks. Yours resembling his now.

“Ok then.” You quip, smiling at the ground. He hands you his phone and you type in your number.

“Your names pretty.” He smiles and you laugh.

“Thanks…”

“Jay. It’s Jay.” He laughs.

“Right.”

As you were about to bid him goodbye, loud tires screeching is heard behind him, the both of you turning to the culprit.

“Jay! Where the fuck have you been! I’ve been calling-” Heeseung shuts up at the sight of you, making his lips curl in a teasing smirk.

“Oh? So this what you’ve been ignoring me for?”

Jay pinches the bridge of his nose.

“Hold on.” He murmurs to you.

You stand there blinking as Jay talks to the guy, you’re assuming they’re pretty close. He then sends you an apologetic look, waiting patiently as Jay walks back to you.

“So I guess I’ll see you when you get off work?” He smiles down at you and you nod.

“Yea. I’ll text you.” You smile.

“Take care okay? Only a call away.” He smiles, getting into the car.

You laugh bidding him goodbye as Heeseung speeds away.

Jay rests on his bed, fresh out of the shower. It’s been a week and he hasn’t gotten a text from you. Now he knows he shouldn’t pry or bug you, you have a life and so does he.

Maybe you just decided you didn’t want his help anymore. But still. Jay can’t help himself, so he shoots you a text.

Jay

Haven’t been working late?

He bites his lip.

Really Jay? That’s all you could think of?

He sighs, tossing his phone on the bed as he finishes drying his hair. That is until he gets a ping, his eyes gazing at his phone. He picks it up and smiles at the sight of your name on his screen.

Y/n:)

Haven’t worked this whole week lol.

I asked for time off

Because yk…

Jay frowns, the thought of you still scared that you didn’t even wanna go to work aches him. He wanted nothing more than to protect you, at least by his side he’d always make sure you were safe.

Jay

I understand

I hope you’ve been well:)

Y/n:)

I have been thank you Jay

I hope your week is going well

He sighs, if only it were that easy. He’s been packed with fights on fights. Heeseung has had him booked to the brim, trying to earn that ‘fast cash’ as he’d say.

He rolls his eyes at the thought. He gazes down at his hands, the cuts and bruises that litter them. The small cut on his cheek that’s almost done healing. The two of you send a few more texts and that was pretty much it. However you roam his mind all of the time. Your smile, your cute flushed face, your laugh, your voice.

So Jay is only ecstatic when you send him a text, letting him know you had went to work today. He throws on a t shirt and some baggy black jeans, pairing it with a black jacket.

He looks at himself in the mirror, fixing his hair and spraying a bit of cologne. As he walks to the living room to grab his shoes, Heeseung stares at him with confused eyes.

“What are you wearing? Where’re you going?” He says standing in front of him.

“Gotta pick up Y/n.” Jay says lightly, finishing his other shoe.

“The fight?!” Heeseung yells in disbelief.

“I said I wasn’t fighting tonight. Figure it out.” Jay grunts, clearly irritated. Heeseung crosses his arms.

“You gotta, there’s a lot of money. I’ll pick you up when you’re done walking her home.”

Jay doesn’t say a word but slam the door behind him. He huffs as he makes his way over to you. He feels undressed when he stands next to you.

You’re in slacks, a button up, with your trench coat draped over your shoulders, a scarf wrapped around you, your heels clanking on the floor.

He’s at a loss for words.

God you were so pretty and even prettier when you shoot him a smile, waving at him.

“Hey.” You say a little too giddily.

“Hi Y/n.” He smiles, standing in front of you.

“Oh! Your sweater. I washed it for you.” You hand it over to him and he gives you a heartwarming smile.

“You didn’t have to you know?”

“I know. I wanted to.” You stuff your hands in your pocket.

He smiles, throwing it over his shoulder. Jay stands close to you as you both walk, which brings you comfort, you know it’s just his presence though.

“You’re all dressed up. You going somewhere tonight?” You grin, playfully teasing him.

Jay flushes, he would admit that he did try with his appearance tonight, even if he is just walking you home. He needed to get a grip.

“Uh, you could say that.” He scratches at his jaw. You chew your lip, not being able to resist the guilt of possibly holding him back.

“You know Jay if you were busy you didn’t have to walk me home. Even though I appreciate it.” You send him a nervous smile and he quickly shuts you down.

“N-No! I don’t necessarily have plans. I just wanted to look nice.”

For you.

He’d like to add but he fears it might be too early for that.

You hum, readjusting your bag. He catches this and swiftly pulls it off you, slinging it around him. When you look at him to say something he just sends you a smile.

The two of you are red in the cheeks but you’d both just blame it on the cold weather. His heart pangs when your apartment comes into view. Hating how shortly lived your guys talks and walks were.

“Well, this is my stop.” You turn to him and he hands you your bag.

You noticed how red his nose has gotten and you laugh, making him blink in confusion. You unwrap your scarf, placing it over Jay’s neck, his breath hitching.

“There.” You pat it down, your hands sliding off his chest.

“It’s getting colder Jay, make sure to cover up.” He laughs, shaking his head in amusement.

“You’re to cute.” He says before he can even stop himself. You both freeze, staring at each other wide eyed.

“Uh, sorry, it just slipped.” He laughs dryly, running a hand through his hair. You laugh it off, not ignoring how it made your heart skip a beat.

“I was gonna ask, maybe if you’re not too busy after work we could grab something to eat? On me of course.” You hum, nodding up at him.

“I’d love that Jay.” He hums, hands in his pocket as he watches you reach the gate.

“Have a goodnight and get home safe.” You narrow your eyes at him and he laughs.

“I will, goodnight.”

Almost as if on cue, Heeseung is pulling up next to him, rolling down his window.

“Come on! We don’t have much time!”

Even though you’re inside, you pause a little watching them interact. Heeseung throws him a tank top and Jay quickly takes off jacket and shirt.

Your eyes bulge out of your skull.

He was so toned and lean. His biceps perfectly sculpted and his back muscles. Don’t get started on his abs. You hurriedly turn around rushing up to your apartment. After he slides on the tank top, he’s closing the car door shut.

“So have you kissed her yet?” Heeseung cheekily says and Jay groans.

“Shut up and drive man.”

You and Jay’s little walks became a routine and ultimately, something you looked forward after your harsh work. Jay did end up taking you out for dinner the next day and now you guys try something new every single time you go out to eat. It became something you both enjoyed.

Especially for Jay, after rough matches and knowing a belt fight was awaiting him. Being with you always seemed to keep him at bay.

You’re on your break when a coworker of yours comes up to you. Nelly. She was nice but also nosey.

“Hey girl, you didn’t tell me you had such a hot boyfriend!” She exclaims and you almost choke on your drink.

“W-What?”

“Yea! The guy that’s been walking you home for what? More than a month?” You’re flushed and she grins.

“Does he have any hot friends too? Set me up!” She pats the wall of your cubicle.

“We’re not dating Nelly. But sure I’ll ask him.” You mutter and she barks back a dragged out thank you. You laugh to yourself pulling out your phone and sent a couple texts to Jay.

Y/n ❤️

omg my coworker has been spying on us

not actually lol but she mentioned you always walking me

and also mentioned if you have any hot friends

anyways gotta get back to work, see you after Jay:)

Jay spits out a wad of blood, cringing at the cold water that’s being poured over him.

“Come on man, this guy ain’t any different, you got him.” Heeseung says, his words of encouragement to lock in Jay’s position for the belt fight.

Jay had been training for weeks upon weeks. There was no way Heeseung would let him lose now.

With a ding, both fighters are meeting up in the middle of the ring, circling one another. Few punches are thrown, which Jay dodges with expertise. Jay lands a damaging liver shot, causing the fighter to falter. Jay’s eyes glimmer with fire upon seeing an opening.

With a faint jab he’s knocking his opponent out with his signature right hook. The crowd roars as Jay smiles, the arena screaming his name. In the locker room, Jay dries his hair from the shower.

“My man!” Heeseung laughs, slapping him right on the back, Jay winces and Heeseung mumbles a small sorry.

“You’re a money maker you know that? We’ll probably be millionaires when you win that belt fight.” He laughs and Jay shakes his head, a small smile lacing his features.

“I’ll see you at the apartment, gotta get Y/n.” Heeseung eyes widen a little.

“Uh Jay?” He turns to him.

“It’s not too late?”

Jay freezes, ripping out his phone from his pocket, seeing missed texts and missed calls from you, he curses, sprinting out the doors. If Jay had calmed down and maybe stopped to think he would’ve asked Heeseung to give him a ride. Yet of course he didn’t, and he’s sprinting to your job.

Coincidentally, your work wasn’t far from the underground gym he fights at but still he was tired from the performance he just put up. When he arrives at the front of your job, he calls you, panting.

“Y/n, Hey! I’m sorry I’m late—” He says rushed out but you interrupt him.

“Jay, it’s okay. My friend gave me a ride home. My house is on the way to his anyways.”

His?

It doesn’t sit right with Jay, as a matter of fact it irks him. Jealousy bubbles in his chest and he can’t resist the way his tone changes.

“Oh, did he get you something to eat?” He taps his phone, his jaw clenched.

“Yea, we went out.” He grips his phone tighter, rolling his eyes.

“Great.” He replies shortly and you side eye your phone, a pout gracing your lips.

“I told you Jay if you’re busy you don’t have to feel obligated to walk me home.” You sigh and so does he.

“It’s not that, I—just had to do something and it slipped my mind.” His words don’t help the situation and you frown.

“You’re proving my point.” You laugh awkwardly and he grows frustrated.

“You know what I gotta go, glad you got someone else to take you home.” He doesn’t even let you answer before he hangs up, leaving you dumbfounded.

Jay hadn’t texted you for almost two weeks and you were both frustrated and worried. Even if he did answer he’d respond with short replies or excuses as to why he couldn’t walk you home. You can’t help but repeat your guys last conversation over and over in your head.

Was he jealous? You guys never discussed what you guys were.

You guys had to be just friends right? Pushing down your feelings and looking at it realistically you truly didn’t know if Jay even reciprocated your feelings.

Even if there was knowledge to how you both felt, there was no label.

It’s not like Jay was doing any better. He was upset and yet he has no reason to be since you guys weren’t even together, it still bothered him.

Jay knew he liked you but he wasn’t sure if you felt the same way. And even though this guy was your friend he couldn’t stop his mind from racing at the thoughts of you seeing other people.

That thought alone leaving a sour taste in his mouth and an ache in his heart. It was bothering him so much he wasn’t even doing good in training.

“Damn man, what is wrong with you? You got the power but where’s your strategy. You’re fighting sloppy. The fight is tomorrow.” Heeseung says frustratedly and even a little worried. Jay rips his gloves off, tossing them to the side.

“Don’t you think I fucking know that?” Jay snaps. Heeseung grows angrier.

“What the fuck is your problem? Things ain’t going good with your girl?” Jay scoffs, taking a drag out of his water.

“I’ll take that as a yes, don’t fuck this up.” Heeseung says, walking away.

“Fuck you.” Jay spits, his breathing uneven.

Leaving him alone to rustle with his thoughts.

You’re at work when you overhear your coworkers talking about some fight in the lunch room.

“Man! You said you’d come! This is like the biggest fight ever!” He exclaims pointing at a paper. You blink and continue to eat your food.

“Who’s fighting again?” Another coworker asks and the guys eyes glint with excitement.

“The one and only RAS! Jongseong Park! Jay?” The guy says and your head snaps towards them.

Their words die out.

It couldn’t be your Jay right?

“Hey, can I see it?” You point to the paper and your coworkers stare at you confused.

“Uh sure.”

Your eyes almost bulge out your skull when you see Jay on the front of it, a lopsided grin on his handsome face adorning no shirt at all.

He was a boxer?!

Scratch that an underground fighter?! You couldn’t believe your eyes.

“They’re fighting tonight?” You say in disbelief and the guy hums.

“I didn’t take you as a boxing watcher?” The guy grins and you hum.

“My brother is obsessed with it.”

Is the last thing you say before making your way to your computer. Searching up Jay’s name and the fight to begin with. You find nothing other than small posts about it.

However you find a an address, matching the same one on the paper. It was less than fifteen minutes from your job.

You realize now that the topic of Jay’s occupation never was mentioned. But now it made sense, all of the injuries he’d have.

You can barely focus on your work for the rest of the day. Only on Jay and this fight that was coming up.

Immediately after you clock out you’re making your way to said address. It’s in a very sketchy part of the city. You can’t help but feel like a piece of meat with the way everyone stares you down. However you make it to the building and it looks like a motel.

“I’m here for the fight?” You say and the guy blinks at you.

“Fifty bucks.” He says and you sigh, sliding the cash over to him. He nods at the guards and they let you pass, opening a door.

As you walk down the stairs, screams and cheers grow louder. You gawk at just how big this place was. It was like an underground stadium! You quickly notice all of the banners, posters, cutouts, you name it, of Jay.

As you walk through the crowds, you’re being stared down once again. You understand why, you look too formal to be here. Most of the women wearing little to no clothing, you stood out like a thorn. The lights turn off and you gasp. Shining right in the middle of the ring. The crowd silencing.

“Ladies and gentlemen, this is the moment you’ve all been waiting for!” He yells and the crowd roars, claps, throwing drinks.

“This fight lasts ten rounds, each three minutes long. Make sure to place your bets because we’re ready to rumble!” He screams, further pumping up the crowd.

“Fighting out of the blue corner, Ethan, Boogieman Davis!” The crowd is filled with boos and cheers, the man raising his hands up, holding them near his ears.

“Out of the red corner. The one and only, Jongseong RAS Park!”

The whole ground shakes with the amount of people screaming for him. Jay smiles, raising his gloved hand and bowing.

“God he’s so fucking hot right!” A random girl nudges you and you blink at her.

“He must be so good in bed. All that stamina has gotta go somewhere.” She laughs and you flush.

As the round starts you’ve accepted that you can’t watch it. To scared to see the outcome or watch Jay get punched. So you roam around the place. You pass by the bar and what looks like to be a food court and the restrooms.

Until you find another set of stairs. You walk up them as the scream’s Ooo’s! and Ah’s begin to fade again. You find a hallway, doors littering them. As soon as you reach one of them, it opens. You freeze and the mystery person doesn’t stop until they see you.

“No fucking way.” Heeseung gawks. You blink at him and he hasn’t moved.

“W-What are you—How? Oh my god.” He freaks out, pacing and grabbing at his hair. You open your mouth to say something but he cuts you off, pushing you by your shoulders.

“Honey you need to leave like right now and act like you’ve never ever came here ok?” He says all rushed out and you stop spinning towards him.

“I’m not leaving.” You pout and he groans.

“If Jay sees you. I’m dead!” He emphasizes with his hands.

“Scratch that. He can’t see you.”

“Why?”

“He’ll lose! I don’t know what has happened between you but you have got him riled up and in a bad mood for the past two weeks! So if he sees you there’s no way he’s winning. And I need him to win!” Heeseung says almost desperately.

“Well I can’t leave.” Heeseung whines and looks down at you, nibbling on his lips.

“Fine! But you’re staying in here.” You open your mouth to protest but Heeseung isn’t having it.

“Stay. In. Here. You’re safer in here anyways.” He sighs.

“I gotta go, Jay needs me.” He says, throwing an apologetic look your way and leaving without another word. Y

ou can still hear faint cheers and you sigh, your nerves all over the place.

Back down in the ring, it’s the 6th round. Both fighters are already battered up and even though Jay looked almost unscathed, he has a nasty gash on his eyebrow, due to the opponent “accidentally” headbutting him.

“You have to end this quick. He’s playing nasty, technically you’re winning by that point deduction but still. We want a knockout.” Heeseung says as a medic helps to clean and stop his cut from profusely bleeding.

The seventh round commences and without a second passing the “Boogieman” is delivering hard punch right to the Jay’s gash, making him stumble. The guy grins and doesn’t hesitate to land calculated punches on Jay.

He’s against the ropes, trying to block and evade any punches that are being thrown.

He’s so tired.

He wants to stop.

He wants it to be over.

Maybe if he just let one connect and lose it’d be fine.

His mind travels to you, your voice buzzing through him. ‘My Hero.’ You once said jokingly to him when he caught you from almost tripping. He smiles at the memory.

God did he miss you so fucking much.

At this time you both would probably be roaming the streets, getting snacks and cracking jokes. With the seventh round surely going to his opponent, Heeseung grows worried.

“Fuck, come on man. You gotta win this. If not for yourself, for Y/n.” Jay’s head snaps towards Heeseung and he gulps.

You’re with Jay all the time, when he’s home, training or even right now. You never leave his mind. Even though you don’t know this side of him, he’ll use you as his motivation.

That if he wins this, he’ll stop being a fucking coward and fess up his feelings for you, maybe even kiss you like he’s always wanted to.

So with the beginning of round eight, he lets his opponent land a couple of hits, reading his movements. It’s a risky play and Heeseung is practically shitting himself.

Right when his opponent goes into his mantra of rushed punches, Jay waits for an opening.

Stupid move.

The “Boogieman” had let his guard down, believing Jay wouldn’t do anything other than block. But in a moment Jay is ducking, turning his body, he’s delivering a nasty uppercut.

The whole crowd silences for a moment, sitting at the edge of their seats as the fighter hits the ground. The referee begins his counts and people begin standing up, counting with him. Jay breathes heavily, ready for sign that his opponent might get back up.

However the ref reaches ten, signaling the fight is over. The arena is louder than ever, as Jay smiles in relief, almost laughing. Heeseung and some people from their team join him in the ring, picking him up and cheering. With the announcer, both fighters and the referee between them.

“Our new lightweight champion by KO, Jongseong ‘RAS’ Park!” The announcer drags out, the referee holding his hand up as they wrap the belt around his waist. Jay smiles as the crowd chants his name, holding his belt. Jay gives a small speech, showing his respects to his opponent, the fight is over.

As quickly as victory is there it’s gone when Heeseung remembers you waiting in the locker room. The both of them walking up the steps.

“Jay.” Heeseung says and he turns around.

“What’s up.” He says stopping in front of the door. Heesung’s gives him an envelope.

“Y/n is here.” He almost whispers and Jay grows angry.

“Really man, that’s not fucking funny.” He rolls his eyes, beginning to turn the handle.

Heeseung stands with his head down as Jay opens the door and sees you standing there. The envelope falling from his hands.

He blinks once.

Then twice.

Then he’s turning around, definitely going to kill Heeseung.

“Wait!” You both yell and Jay freezes, his eyes snapping towards you. You stand there with a pout.

“Just, talk to me please. Deal with him later.” You mumble. Jay sends a glare to Heeseung.

“Leave.” He grits and Heeseung is gone in a flash.

Jay picks up the envelope and closes the door behind him. You watch as he sits on the bench, unwrapping his hands. You sigh at the cuts on his face. He doesn’t pay you any mind until you’re in front of him with a first aid kit.

“What’re you-” You hold his face and he blushes, eyes meeting yours.

You stare at him a little longer before you begin to open the box. You inspect the deep gash on his eyebrow. Your finger softly gliding around the skin.

“You’re gonna need stitches.” You whisper and he hums.

“Did you win?” You break the silence and he sighs.

“Mhm.” He says shortly, making you pout. You narrow your eyes and push the cloth with alcohol in to one of his cuts.

“Ah! What the hell!” He groans staring up at you.

“You ignore me for two weeks and you’re still mad? I don’t even know what I did!” You continue to pout as you tend to his wounds.

“I’m sorry.” He finally says.

“I’m being stupid.”

“Yea you are.” He narrows his eyes at you and you smile.

“Actually I have a right to be mad. Why are you here.” He frowns, crossing his arms.

“What? You didn’t want me finding this out? The one and only RAS?” You tease and he groans.

“You don’t care?” He grows a little conscious.

“No? It’s hot anyways.” He blushes again and you smile, gliding your thumb along a cut in his lip.

“You should be happy. You won.” You say softly and he nods.

“Thanks to you.” He gazes up at you and blink.

“I thought of you, you’re like my only motivation.” He mumbles, now his ears and neck were red. You smile and swiping his hair out of his face.

“You big sap.” You laugh, biting your lip. His hands come up to rest on the small of your back, rubbing circles.

“I really like you.” He whispers and your heart clenches.

“And I’ve been such a fucking coward and when you mentioned that guy—I just.” You can’t help but smile.

“I like you to Park.” He rolls his eyes, you lean down and peck his lips.

His eyes widen, staring at you in disbelief. You smile cutely as you clean his cut, but he grabs your wrist. He stands up, caging you against the lockers. His hand cups the back of your neck, the other on your waist. He pulls you into another kiss. You both lose yourself in each other, your hands tightly gripping his tank top.

“Wanted to do this for so long.” He breathes against your lips. His hand slides down, gliding along your waist and back.

“Got so mad when you mentioned that guy.” He huffs, nibbling on your bottom lip. You gasp and he shoves his tongue in your mouth.

“M-My friend?” You question and he almost growls.

“Don’t care what he is. You’re mine.” He breaks away from your lips, planting kisses down your neck.

“J-Jay.” You moan, your hands gripping his hair.

He hisses, clamping his teeth down on your neck. You whine, craning your neck to give him more access as your hands drag down his chest. You finally feel the muscle and rigid of his abs, making you bite your lip.

“Please.” You whine and he smirks.

“What you begging for huh?” He whispers in your ear, biting your earlobe, you grip his shoulders and he grins.

He pats your thighs and you jump. He carries you with ease, setting you on the counter of the sink. His hands rub at your thighs as he slots himself between your legs, spreading them apart.

“Can I?” His hand rests on your shirt and you nod. He teasingly unbuttons it slowly one by one.

“Jay stop teasing.” You whine, tugging at his wrist.

“Such an impatient girl.” He smiles, sliding the shirt off of you. He immediately places kisses on the apple of your breasts, squeezing one of them.

“So fucking beautiful.” He whispers in to your skin.

“I’m gonna take these off okay?” He says, tugging at your slacks. You nod dumbly and he smiles, pecking your lips.

As he works off your pants you rake your nails along his abs, making him shudder. He drops down to his knees, placing kisses and sucking marks into your plush skin, massaging your thighs.

“Perfect, you’re so perfect.” He gazes up at you and you moan at the sight.

He peels off your panties, licking his lips upon seeing your glistening folds.

“Fuck pretty, you’re wet.” You whine in embarrassment, your hands shooting to cover your face and he laughs.

Licking a long achingly strip. You sigh, your thighs twitching. He cups the back of your knees, placing your legs on his shoulders. He sucks and nips at your clit, pretty noises leaving your mouth as your juices cover his mouth.

“Taste so sweet.” He groans and you flush at his words.

“S-Stop talking—ngh!” You moan as he inserts two fingers inside your greedy hole.

“What was that baby?” You whine, as he pumps them inside you, his arm flexing.

“You’re mean.” You whimper and he only smiles wider.

As his fingers move faster so does his tongue, flicking your bud. His lips so plump and fast.

“Jong—” You moan and he can feel his cock twitch.

“Fuck, say it pretty girl.” He pulls out his fingers and you pout at the emptiness until he’s replacing it with tongue. A guttural moan leaving you.

“Close! So close Jongie.” Your hole clenches around his tongue, only sucking him in.

He groans against you, only adding more stimulation, feeding the fire that you feel in your core. His hand moves up to rub your clit, he feels you flutter against him, your cunt spasming against him.

“Cumming!” You cry out, your legs closing around him as your hand tugs at his hair, riding his face. He licks and sucks up all your juices, rubbing soothing circles on the inside of your thighs.

“Did so good for me.” He says breathlessly, peppering soft kisses on the inside of your thighs, even one on your tummy.

Your head still fuzzy from your orgasm but you smile down at him. He gently slides your panties back on along with your pants. He wipes his face with one of his towels, placing a kiss on the side of your head.

“So does this mean I can take you out on a date?” He asks, his hands at your waist once again.

“After that performance, I can’t say no.” You grin, your arms wrapping around his neck.

“You’re talking about my fight or my mouth.” He grins as you shove him away.

“Who knew you were such a freaking tease.” You flush, his hands intertwining with yours.

“Still waiting on that answer angel.”

“You called me like a million names already.” You laugh and he smiles.

“Just seeing which ones I like more but they all suit you.” He smiles and you do too.

“Yes Jay, I’ll go on a date with you.” He pecks your lips, tasting yourself on his lips.

“It’s Jongseong to you or Jongie.” He grins.

“Just to be clear you’re mine right? I just don’t wanna ask you like this.” He raises his brows.

“Yes, I’m yours.” You laugh.

“All yours Jongie.” You drag out and he nuzzles his face in your neck.

“Atta girl.”

Heeseung😒

wrap it up dude

the owner is waiting for you two to leave

glad you made it to third base though;)

[ssahotchnerr]

yes! i do!! you have jj’s role and an unsub is shot dead infront of you and his blood literally soaks you and you’re shaking and speechless and aaron’s focus is to get to you and keep you safe and bring you back to earth 🥲🥲

stay with me

cw; fem liasion!reader, protective!aaron, multiple blood descriptions, panic attack descriptions, no established relationship but aaron and reader are close, there's also one small mention of aaron's shirt being big on reader, fluff <3 wc; 1k

your ears are ringing. whether it's from the gunshot or the blatant shock, you have no idea.

you're frozen in place; everything's fuzzy, your body is buzzing and your lips, hands, everything is numb.

you're not used to this. this isn't what your job usually entails. you look at pictures like this, you don't live or experience it.

in the haze, someone's approached you. someone's talking to you. someone's embraced you. there's a hand on your back, an arm attempting to shield you away. but your feet don't move. internally, you're screaming at them to move.

why won't they move?

"hey," it's aaron. you don't hear him, or process that it's him, until he shakes you ever so gently and again, he says, "hey."

you don't want to be used to this.

"i..." you rigidly stand there, staring at the unsub laid in front of you, the pool of blood around him growing as the seconds pass. you think you're articulating words, but you're not sure.

aaron follows your eyes - he opens his mouth to speak, but nothing comes out. a swirl of emotions fill him - first and foremost, relief you're safe and unscathed, but also horror at what you just encountered - what you shouldn't have encountered.

"it's on me." you manage to choke out, feeling rather lightheaded as you view your shaky hands, and then your blouse, both spattered with red. it's on your neck, your face, and it's like you can feel every singular dot, singeing into your skin like it's bound to be permanent. a new fear fills you - will you ever be able to not feel it?

"don't look, just look at me." your head whips towards aaron, finding his gentle and concerned brown eyes. the sight allows your chest to loosen, finding the smallest bit of normalcy when it comes to breathing. you're remembering how to breathe.

aaron wants to bring the cuff of his sleeve to your skin, to wipe away the residue but he can't. he fears it would make it worse, and remind you again that it's littered on you - the last thing you needed. he wanted to calm you, not further panic you. "or better yet, just close them, sweetheart."

the term of endearment goes right past you, as you grip onto his vest, the sleeves of his shirt, anything your fingers can hold onto as he's guiding you out of the house. he's talking to the rest of the team, relaying instructions, but you only focus on keeping your eyes shut.

"it's okay, you're going to be just fine." aaron assures you, his voice low and even, soothing. "hear the leaves crunching under your feet? there's a cool breeze tonight, too. can you feel it?"

you nod gingerly. the sound is distant, but it's there. and just as he stated, you feel the cool air hit your cheeks, the wind also tousling your hair. it feels colder than cool, though, due to the stream of tears trailing downwards - have you been crying too? "i can hear it in the trees."

"that's good. how about smell, can you smell anything?"

copper.

aaron realizes his mistake the second the sentence leaves his mouth, your face paling as well as his.

"your aftershave." you blurt out, surprising yourself. despite the sheer panic, it was fairly easy to redirect your mind to him. your fingers clutched onto the fabric of his shirt more forcefully. "it smells spicy, sweet too. it smells like you. familiar. safe."

you resist the urge to tuck your face into him, but after a moment's thought, you do. you need it. you need him.

and to further secure you, aaron holds you to him, his large hand spanning the side of your head and keeping your face buried close to his chest.

your eyes open when you reach the suv; when the two of you come to a stop, when aaron's hold is suddenly absent, the sound of the door opening deeming it safe - far away from the scene.

but at the loss of his contact, involuntarily your eyes fall back to your blouse. it's stuck to your skin, soaked by the... blood.

"stay with me." aaron manages to grab your attention before you begin spiraling again, his hands lifting and hesitating. "may i?"

you nod, frantically and this time, you can feel the tears resurfacing. "please get it off me."

first, aaron unvelcros his vest, and then removes his tie, his dress shirt, leaving him in just his white tee. he drapes it over the passenger seat - at the ready.

aaron ushers you closer to the interior of the car so the open door fully covers you, blocking any view that isn't his. he unbuttons your blouse with gentle fingers, acting rather quickly as well. and respectfully, he averts his eyes - either looking strictly at his hands, the buttons on each shirt, or your face, checking in on you.

he helps you into his shirt, holding it open so you can slide your arms in. it envelopes you, and just as fast as he unbuttoned, he fastens it shut.

it feels as if a small weight is lifted off your shoulders, and aaron tosses your soiled shirt onto the ground in the backseat. he leads you to sit sideways in the passenger seat, facing him.

"i don't want to be alone." you don't know why that's the first thing to exit your mouth, but it is. your eyes lift to his, frightened and pleading.

aaron nods as he gets down on a knee, cupping your cheek with his hand. "you're sleeping in my room tonight."

"with you?"

with a stroke of his thumb, overtop those bloodstains he's desperate to wash and rid you from, he nods again. "with me."

[edenesth]

ATEEZ as Hogwarts Students

Pairing(s): hogwarts student!ateez x hogwarts student!reader

Word Count: 9.8k

A/N: Oh my gosh, thank you all so much for helping me reach 2.3k followers! To celebrate this, I'm back again with another one of these! Once again, special thanks to my one and only, my pookie, @itstheghostofmypast, for helping me confirm which houses some of the members should be in💘

ATEEZ MASTERLIST

Hongjoong ↠ Gryffindor

The Poor Prefect That Nobody Takes Seriously

"I swear to god, if I see another damn chocolate frog loose in the dorm, I'll—" Before Hongjoong could even finish, a cheeky first-year passing by stuck his tongue out at him. "What are you gonna do? Run off to cry to Professor McGonagall again?"

The seventh-year's jaw dropped, his blood pressure spiking, but the kid was gone before he could even scold him. Two years—he'd been a prefect for almost two years now, and still, no one ever took him seriously. Thinking back to his early days as an optimistic prefect, eager to bring order and discipline to his rowdy housemates, he knew now how impossible that dream was.

But was he going to stop trying?

Not a damn chance.

Hongjoong had chosen to become a prefect the very moment he was eligible in his fifth year. Professors had always praised him as reliable, a natural-born leader, and he'd believed that wholeheartedly. He'd pictured himself bringing order to his dormitory, respected by his housemates for his efforts to keep things in line. But the reality? Gryffindors, as he was learning, could be a lot harder to control than he ever expected.

Unfortunately, his "small but mighty" reputation didn't exactly translate into authority. He'd start off with a firm tone, reminding them of the rules, only to watch them twist his words into a rallying cry for their next scheme. His attempts at seriousness somehow only fueled their chaotic Gryffindor spirits, making him seem more like a mascot for daring antics than a figure of discipline.

While the academic staff continued to commend his commitment, his classmates saw him as the "cool" prefect—the one who'd cover for them more often than not, a little too forgiving to actually be feared. Some nights, he'd even find himself dragged into the very pranks he was supposed to be preventing, swept up by the contagious energy of his friends.

Despite everything, Hongjoong couldn't bring himself to truly give up. Every morning, he'd tell himself that today was the day he'd put his foot down, that he'd be the prefect his professors always said he could be. He knew the odds weren't in his favour, but in true Gryffindor fashion, he wasn't about to back down from the challenge.

Today's the day—I can feel it in my bones.

Letting out a determined breath, Hongjoong's gaze fixed on the notice board, now littered with doodles, silly notes, and questionable "decorations." With a purposeful nod, he crossed his arms and cleared his throat, catching the attention of the Gryffindors lounging around the common room. "Forget the frogs then. How many times have I told you all not to vandalise the notice board with your nonsense? It's used solely for—"

"For important announcements. Yes, we get it," piped up a cheeky third-year, eyes glinting with mischief. "But there are no announcements at the moment, so is it really so bad if we, y'know, decorate a little?"

And there it was again—the quick responses that left him speechless every time. Hongjoong tried to keep his expression stern, but a tiny part of him could almost see their point. Was it so bad to have a bit of fun? No, he reminded himself, that's not the point. But as he felt his resolve waver, he knew a miracle wasn't going to happen today. Why couldn't he be both firm and likeable, just like—

"Oh, so you want to test if it's bad?" your voice cut through, sharp but calm, as you stepped down from the spiral staircase. You'd been listening long enough to hear their usual defiance, and you were not about to let them undermine your boyfriend's authority. "How about we invite the professors to take a look at your 'artwork' and see how much they'd appreciate it, hm?"

Like you.

Hongjoong released a breath he hadn't realised he was holding, grateful for your support. You, with your knack for balancing authority and approachability, were everything he wished he could be as a prefect. If he could just learn how to be firm, like you, maybe Gryffindor's antics would finally come under control.

"You heard her," he added, finding a bit of confidence again as he nodded in agreement. "Clean it up. Now."

The students exchanged glances, sighing as they reluctantly began peeling off the doodles. He couldn't help but grin a little as he glanced your way.

"Thanks, babe," he mouthed.

You shook your head, smiling as you nodded toward the remaining Gryffindors lounging around. "I'm heading to the Great Hall first. I'll leave it to you to get everyone to breakfast on time, Joong. Think you can handle it?"

Hongjoong nodded enthusiastically, eager to make you proud. "You bet. They're going to see a whole new Prefect Kim this year," he declared confidently.

You laughed, both amused and a bit sceptical. He'd nearly caved to their antics just moments ago, but that was part of his charm. You loved how different he was from you—how he helped you loosen up when you were too serious, just as you helped him stay firm when he got a little too lenient. Together, you two were like yin and yang, balanced and perfectly matched, as everyone in the house always teased.

Squeezing his hand, you gave him a playful smile. "Show 'em, tiger," you winked before turning to leave, catching a glimpse of his cheeks turning pink.

The moment you were out of sight, the common room burst into whistles and smirks around him. Snapping out of his trance, your boyfriend rolled his eyes, trying to keep his composure.

"Alright, folks," he called out, clapping his hands. "You heard my girl. Let's cooperate for once and head to the Great Hall on time—don't make me disappoint her!"

The Gryffindors grinned, shuffling toward the door without a fuss, eager to play along. He smirked, pleased with their obedience whenever you were mentioned. Maybe he'd always need your presence to keep this difficult crowd in line, but he didn't mind at all. He knew they didn't have to fear him for him to be a good prefect. Deep down, he knew they all adored him, and he was pretty sure that, rule-breaking aside, they wouldn't truly make things difficult for him. They just loved teasing him—because, honestly, he might just be their favourite prefect.

Seonghwa ↠ Hufflepuff

The Goody Two Shoes and Teacher's Pet

"Oh, Seonghwa, my boy! What brings you here on a weekend? Shouldn't you be off enjoying Hogsmeade with your girlfriend?" Professor Sprout asked, pleasantly surprised as her star student stepped into the greenhouse, notebook in hand. The seventh-year smiled brightly, giving her a respectful nod before approaching.

"Good afternoon, Professor! I just came by to check on my mandrake—I'm determined to cultivate one to maturity for my latest Restorative Draught. And, uh… my girlfriend, she'll be here to join me soon," he added, rubbing the back of his neck, cheeks turning pink at the mention of you.

Professor Sprout's expression softened, a smile touching her lips. "You're too hard working for your own good, both of you," she gently chided, pride swelling as she glanced at the Hufflepuff sigil pinned proudly on his denim jacket. Even on a day when house representation wasn't required, Park Seonghwa wore his Hufflepuff loyalty openly, reminding everyone where his heart belonged. She knew he had a bright future ahead, and if she were to ever consider early retirement, he would be her top choice to take over as the next Herbology professor.

As if on cue, you pushed open the greenhouse doors and stepped inside. "Hwa, are you here already?" you called, glancing around before your eyes landed on your boyfriend and Professor Sprout.

Seonghwa, who'd been focused on his mandrake, looked up at the sound of your voice, a soft smile lighting up his face. In the presence of authority, he resisted the urge to rush over and hug you, his restraint both endearing and unmistakable. You bit back a laugh, amused by his adorable attempt at composure.

"Oh! Good afternoon, Professor!" you greeted, nodding respectfully. "Are we disturbing you? We can come another day if you need the greenhouse for your work."

She smiled warmly, waving off your concern. "Not at all, dearie. I was just on my way out. You two enjoy your little date," she added with a knowing wink. "And if you're in the mood for a treat, there are some extra Every Flavour Beans on the top shelf—please help yourselves."

"Thank you, Professor!" you and Seonghwa chimed in unison, exchanging a look of warmth and shared gratitude. As the elderly woman left, he gently took your hand, pulling you close enough to place a soft kiss on your forehead. You leaned into him with a contented sigh. "How embarrassing—now she's certain we're dating," you murmured, unable to hide your own smile.

He chuckled, his eyes dancing with affection. "Is that such a terrible thing, love? Maybe it's time the whole world knows you're mine."

You gasped in mock scandal, playfully nudging his shoulder. "How improper," you laughed, but a blush crept into your cheeks. Though you'd never formally announced your relationship, it was hardly a secret—everyone must have guessed by now with all the time you spent together. But for the sake of his reputation as the model student, you'd both kept things understated, not feeling the need to broadcast your love. Now, though, there was a new spark in his eyes, a hint of the Slytherin heritage running through his veins, as if he suddenly wanted the world to see what his heart had always known.

Seonghwa, after all, was the first Hufflepuff in a long line of Ravenclaws and Slytherins—a surprise his family hadn't quite anticipated. But their surprise had never bothered him. Instead, it had only strengthened his resolve to prove that Hufflepuff was as noble and worthy as any other house. Consistently at the top of his class in Herbology and Care of Magical Creatures, he'd gained the admiration of professors for his quiet dedication and high moral standards. Always the first to lend a hand to new students or submit his assignments, he was as dependable as they came.

Yet as much as he wanted to honour his house and his achievements, his heart now longed for something deeper. For the first time, he wanted his family—and everyone else—to see you, the one who had believed in him through every challenge and celebrated every victory, who had loved him exactly as he was. He knew that letting you into his life so openly would be the proudest badge he could ever wear.

"So," he began, biting his lip as he shifted his focus from the mandrake to you, who was busily jotting down notes about its latest growth. "Should we spend some time in Hogsmeade after this?" His voice was soft, almost hesitant, and your eyes widened slightly, your actions faltering as you locked gazes with him.

"You're joking, right? All our friends are there—" you started, but he shook his head, his expression earnest. "I'm serious, love."

The weight of his words sank in, and you realised he wasn't joking at all. A rush of emotions washed over you. "I... I don't know why it took me so long, but I don't want to hide my feelings for you anymore. I want to openly show my affection and be like every other couple in school. It's already our seventh year, and we haven't even been on a proper date. Can we make this the first of many more? Would you like to... go on a date with me?"

Placing your pen down, you blinked, your heart racing at his sincere proposal. This was a big step. Once the truth was out in the open, there would be no turning back—everyone, including his family, would know about you two. But as you looked into his eyes, you felt a rush of warmth. If he was ready for it, then so were you. You knew he would always protect you, no matter what.

With a shy smile, you nodded, feeling butterflies fluttering in your stomach. "Thought you'd never ask."

His face broke into a radiant grin, and the world around you seemed to melt away. Seonghwa stepped closer, allowing your head to rest against his shoulder, enveloped in the warmth of his presence like a cosy blanket. "I can't wait," he murmured softly.

"Me too," you replied, a wave of excitement bubbling in your chest.

In that greenhouse, surrounded by vibrant plants and warm sunlight, you both felt the first tender blooms of something beautiful—a love that was finally ready to thrive in the open, with all the joy and light that came with it.

Yunho ↠ Hufflepuff

The Popular Triwizard Champion

"Well? Have you managed to figure out the next task, golden boy?"

Yunho's head snapped around at the sound of your voice, his wide eyes betraying his surprise. Before he could respond, a few stray water droplets from his damp hair splashed onto you, drawing a squeal from your lips.

"Oh no! Angel, I'm so sorry!" he stammered, hastily brushing at your sleeve, his genuine concern making you laugh. He held the golden egg tightly, now safely shut after his latest round of inspections. "But seriously, what are you doing here? You'll be in trouble if anyone finds you sneaking into the prefect's bathroom!"

You snorted, though your heart melted at the way his brows knitted with worry. "Well, I could say the same for you, Yuyu. You're not a prefect either," you quipped with a grin.

He chuckled, the sound echoing in the steamy room as he swam closer to where you sat at the edge of the bath, your legs lazily dangling in the water. Gently, he set the golden egg beside you, then rested his arms on your thighs, gazing up at you with a playful smirk.

"The difference is, I'm a Triwizard Champion," he teased, his grin widening, "and you're not."

Rolling your eyes, you booped his nose with a finger, earning a soft laugh from him. "True, I'm not," you replied, sticking your tongue out cheekily. "But I am your girlfriend, so that grants me a special privilege, doesn't it?"

Yunho's gaze softened as he beamed up at you, water glistening on his face like tiny jewels. "Yeah," he murmured, his voice warm and affectionate. "It definitely does."

With a tender smile, you reached out to brush the water from his face, gently pushing his damp hair back from his eyes. Your heart skipped a beat when he instinctively leaned into your touch, his warmth grounding you despite the growing tension in your chest.

"You haven't answered me yet," you reminded him softly, your voice barely above a whisper. "Have you figured out the answer to the second task?"

He nodded, his hand lifting to cover yours on his cheek, holding it in place as though it anchored him. He gave your fingers a soft, reassuring squeeze. "I have," he murmured, his gaze meeting yours with a quiet intensity. "But... I don't want you to freak out. Everything's going to be okay, I promise."

Despite his comforting tone, the knot in your stomach tightened. You tried to mask it with a cheeky smile, nudging him lightly with your foot in the water. "Suuure, Yuyu. I totally believe you when you say these tasks will get easier. I mean, it's not like the first one involved dragons or anything."

Your boyfriend sighed, a bittersweet smile tugging at his lips. You knew he was thinking about the moment his name had been announced as the Hogwarts champion—the wave of fear that had gripped you as the Great Hall erupted in cheers.

He had submitted his name on a whim, more as a joke than anything. He hadn't thought for a second he'd actually be chosen. But of course, you should've known better. He was Jung Yunho—the school's golden boy. Everyone adored him, from his endless optimism to his natural charm. He could light up any room he walked into and never turned away anyone in need. His wild card selection had shocked everyone, but he had embraced it with the same unshakable enthusiasm he brought to everything in life.

For him, the Triwizard Tournament was an adventure, a chance to make memories and new friends. For you, it was a constant worry. You knew the dangers far too well, and it terrified you. Still, when he had emerged victorious after the first task, his joy had been contagious, and you told yourself you had to let your fear go. You couldn't hold him back from greatness. He needed your support, and you were determined to be the girlfriend he deserved.

Leaning forward, you pressed a quick kiss to his lips, hoping it would reassure him as much as it did you. "Alright," you whispered, brushing your thumb along his jaw. "So tell me. What's the second task?"

Before you could pull away, he held onto you, wrapping an arm around your waist and resting his forehead against yours. His voice softened, steady but laced with a vulnerability he rarely showed.

"The Black Lake," he said quietly. "I... I have a feeling I'm going to need you to get through this task."

His words sent a shiver down your spine, but the conviction in his eyes made you hold your ground. Whatever this task demanded, you knew one thing for sure: you'd face it together.

And his predictions couldn't have been more accurate—he and the champions from Durmstrang and Beauxbatons had an hour to retrieve something that had been stolen from them from the merpeople's village beneath the Black Lake.

The lake was eerily silent, its surface shimmering under the overcast sky as Yunho broke through the water, gasping for air. His strong arms cradled you protectively, his chest rising and falling in rapid bursts. The tension that had gripped him since the start of the task finally began to ease now that you were safe in his embrace.

You coughed violently, expelling the icy water from your lungs, your breaths coming in sharp, shallow bursts. The fragments of what had happened began piecing themselves together in your mind—the haunting stillness of the underwater village, the muffled echo of water all around, and your boyfriend's words from the prefect's bathroom resurfacing with a jarring clarity: "I have a feeling I'm going to need you to get through this task."

He had been right.

The task wasn't just about retrieving an object of value—it was about recovering the most precious thing stolen from them.

For Yunho, that had been you.

"Oh thank god, you're alright," he murmured, his voice thick with relief as he guided you onto the shore. The cheers and applause from the crowd were a distant hum in the background, drowned out by the pounding of his heart. Grabbing a towel, he draped it over your shoulders, enveloping you in its warmth before pulling you close. His arms wrapped around you securely, as though anchoring you back to him and shielding you from the chill that clung to the air.

You pressed your forehead against his shoulder, his familiar scent grounding you amidst the chaos of the moment. Despite the lingering cold, a soft smile crept onto your lips. Your voice, though weak, carried an unwavering sincerity. "How could I not be? You'll always save me… my hero."

His grip on you tightened at your words, his heart swelling with emotion as he buried his face in your hair. "Always," he whispered, his voice steady but laced with the weight of his promise. "Now I understand how hard it is for you to worry about me. I promise I'll make it out alive, every time—for you."

The announcement of his second-place finish barely registered. Everything seemed insignificant in the face of what truly mattered. All that filled his mind was the undeniable fact that you were safe, right here in his arms—the one person he cared for most.

Yeosang ↠ Ravenclaw

The Annoying Ace

"Hey, Kang! What'd you get for Potions? There's no way you aced it this time—it was brutal, and you barely studied before the test," a fellow Ravenclaw called out, pulling Yeosang from his thoughts. He glanced up, a small, nonchalant smile gracing his lips as he held up his graded paper. "You're right, it was tough. I only got an A- this time."

The room fell silent. His classmates stared at him, their jaws nearly hitting the floor. Was he serious? Most of the class had barely scraped by, even after endless hours of revision. Seventh-year Potions was no joke, filled with the most complex and challenging formulas known to the wizarding world.

"Only an A-? Are you kidding me? Did you bribe the professor or something?" someone blurted out, their voice tinged with disbelief.

You, seated next to your boyfriend, shot them a sharp glare. "Say that again in front of Professor Slughorn. I dare you," you retorted, crossing your arms.

The student huffed indignantly, muttering under their breath. "Whatever. You probably cheated with Felix Felicis or something."

Before you could unleash another scathing comeback, Yeosang gently placed a hand on your shoulder, his calm demeanour soothing your rising temper. His ever-composed smile didn't waver as he addressed the accusation. "Well," he began, his voice light but laced with quiet confidence, "if we were skilled enough to brew the Liquid Luck flawlessly and effectively, wouldn't that alone prove we deserve our grades?"

The remark landed with perfect precision, leaving everyone speechless. They knew he had a point. Brewing the luck potion wasn't just difficult—it was borderline impossible for most, requiring six months of meticulous preparation and risking catastrophic failure if done even slightly wrong.

The room buzzed with unspoken thoughts. If you and Yeosang could pull off such a feat, would the Potions exam have been challenging for either of you?

Your lips quirked into a satisfied smile as you exchanged a glance with your boyfriend. That was just like him—always shutting down his doubters with quiet brilliance, never needing to raise his voice to prove his worth.

"Man, I really need to learn how to be as effortlessly cool as you," you teased, giving his shoulder a playful nudge as he led you by the hand out of the classroom and toward the courtyard for some fresh air.

He glanced at you, his usual relaxed grin softening into something fonder. "You're already the coolest person to me," he replied casually as if it were the most obvious thing in the world.

Your cheeks warmed instantly, and you lightly smacked his arm, looking away as you bit your lip to hide the spreading blush. Even now, you could hardly believe he had accepted your confession back then—and that he was now your boyfriend. To you, he had always seemed so distant, so untouchable, like a star out of reach.

That was, until the day he noticed you struggling with a potion after class and offered to help. You hadn't known it at the time, but that small moment of kindness would lead to something far greater.

Yeosang is that Ravenclaw—the one who always seems lost in his thoughts yet somehow aces every test with ease, charming every professor in the process. He's the envy of his classmates, who burn the midnight oil studying while he effortlessly secures perfect scores. His calm, almost ethereal demeanour only adds to the intrigue, making him a bit of a mystery to everyone around him.

No one can figure out how he manages to zone out during Potions lessons and still brew flawless draughts, but they're too in awe (and slightly frustrated) to ask. It's just him—an enigma wrapped in quiet confidence, and somehow, he was yours.

"But seriously, Yeo, have you actually managed to perfect your luck potion? Don't think I didn't notice Professor Slughorn sneaking glances your way. He really did trust you to brew some for him, didn't he?" you asked, leaning your head against his shoulder, fingers gently squeezing his where they were intertwined with yours.

He hummed softly, the sound vibrating against you as he rested his head atop yours. With a flick of his wand, he cast a subtle charm to deflect a stray prank from a group of cheeky Gryffindors playing with products from Weasleys' Wizard Wheezes. The spell stopped the flying object just before it could land anywhere near you. Your heart fluttered at his nonchalant protectiveness, and you couldn't help but notice the envious sighs from a few girls nearby.

"I'll answer that," he murmured, his tone teasing, "when you tell me how you managed to brew such a flawless Amortentia draught."

You blinked, lifting your head to meet his gaze. "The love potion? What are you talking about? I've never even tried to make one."

A small smile tugged at his lips, and he reached up to tuck a stray strand of hair behind your ear. "Are you sure about that?"

You furrowed your brows, your confusion deepening. "Yes, I'm sure," you replied, your tone laced with scepticism. But before you could press him further, he leaned in and stole a quick kiss, leaving you gasping softly in surprise. Your hand flew to your lips, cheeks aflame as you tried to process what just happened.

Yeosang chuckled at your flustered reaction, his arm slipping securely around your back as he guided you to keep walking. "Then explain how you managed to make me so hopelessly enamoured with you," he said, his voice low but teasing. "It's the only logical explanation for how smitten I am."

"Oh, obviously. That's the only logical explanation," you burst out laughing, playfully trying to push him away, but he held firm, his grip steady yet gentle.

He chuckled along with you, pressing a tender kiss to the top of your head. "Exactly, my love. You've clearly bewitched me, and I have no intention of breaking free."

"The feeling's mutual, my darling genius."

San ↠ Slytherin

The Intimidating Head Boy Who's Secretly a Softie

"Oh, come on, Pumpkin! When will you learn to leave the Monster Book of Monsters alone?!" San groaned in exasperation, his eyes following his mischievous cat as it darted around, narrowly avoiding the snapping Care of Magical Creatures textbook that was now chasing it across the yard. The naughty feline had somehow managed to unclasp the book—again. "Come here, you stubborn little thing!" he called, swooping in to scoop up the cat.

With practised ease, he approached the wild book, stroking its spine gently until it calmed and locked itself shut, just as Hagrid had taught. Of course, San was probably the only one who had actually paid attention to that particular lesson.

A dramatic gasp caught his attention, and he turned to find you standing nearby, a teasing grin plastered across your face.

"Well well, who would've thought? The scary and intimidating Choi San names his cat Pumpkin? And a cat, no less? I always pictured you with an owl or a crow. Guess you're a softie after all. Wait till the rest of the house finds out."

He rolled his eyes but smirked, settling back into his seat behind Hagrid's hut. "Go ahead and tell them, sweetheart. It's not like I asked anyone to see me as the 'mean and cold Slytherin.' If they want to believe that, then that's on them."

You chuckled and took a seat beside him, watching as he cooed at his cat and peppered it with kisses. "So, what's a big bad boy like you doing out here, hm?"

"Detention, obviously," he deadpanned, his tone dripping with sarcasm. "Fits my reputation, doesn't it?"

You shook your head knowingly, the corner of your lips curling upward. "If that's what you're calling it, sure. But Hagrid told me you were out here for some extra lessons on Hippogriffs when I passed him earlier."

He feigned a pout, resting his chin on Pumpkin's head. "Damn, you caught me. There goes my big bad boy image. Boohoo."

You burst out laughing, unable to hold it in.

San had always been an enigma to those around him. With his sharp, commanding presence and role as Head Boy, he had a reputation for being unapproachable. First-years practically scrambled out of his way in the corridors. But those who dared get to know him soon discovered that beneath the piercing gaze and confident swagger was a playful, caring soul who adored magical creatures.

And you? You were supposedly his rival—his female counterpart, according to your peers. With your equally composed demeanour and role as Head Girl, it wasn't uncommon for people to pit the two of you against each other. But those who looked closer would've seen the truth: you were far from rivals. If anything, you were two halves of the same warm, hidden flame, especially when it came to each other.

"Well, I hope you don't mind me joining you on your little detention, Choi," you teased, leaning your head against his shoulder.

He hummed thoughtfully, nuzzling his head against yours. "On one condition."

"And what's that?" you glanced up at him.

He bit his lip, his eyes sparkling with mischief. "Let me take you to Hogsmeade this weekend, Head Girl."

"Alright, alright. None of that in my class," Hagrid's booming voice cut through the moment, startling both of you as you quickly pulled apart, clearing your throats in unison.

San shifted awkwardly, rubbing the back of his neck while you tried—and failed—to suppress a laugh.

Hagrid folded his massive arms across his chest, his bushy eyebrows raised knowingly. "We're only doing this if you're both serious, okay? This isn't some fun little date idea."

You nodded earnestly, though the corners of your lips twitched with amusement. "Of course, Professor. We're serious about this."

But Hagrid wasn't done.

Turning his attention to the Head Boy, he added, "But please, do take her to Hogsmeade, lad. I've heard more than enough from you about how much you like her."

San's eyes widened, his cheeks instantly flushing a deep crimson. "H-Hagrid!" he stammered, his voice a pitch higher than usual.

You couldn't hold it in anymore, bursting into laughter as he glared at you half-heartedly. "Oh, you're never living this down," you teased, nudging his arm.

"I—uh—yes, sir," he mumbled, his voice barely audible as he stared down at the ground, clearly flustered.

The professor chuckled, giving a hearty clap to the young man's shoulder that nearly made him stumble. "That's what I like to hear, Choi. Now, back to work, both of you. Those Hippogriffs aren't going to train themselves."

As Hagrid lumbered away, you leaned closer to San, grinning. "So, how much do you like me, Choi San?"

He groaned, his hands covering his face. "Can we just focus on the Hippogriffs?"

"Not a chance," you replied smugly, your laughter ringing out as his ears turned an even brighter shade of red.

The journey back to the common room was filled with quiet comfort, but as you both stepped through the entrance, his demeanour shifted instantly. Gone was the flustered boy from earlier; in his place stood the stoic and commanding Head Boy, his sharp gaze sweeping over the lounging students.

"Keep it down," he said curtly to a group of rowdy second-years, his tone leaving no room for argument. They immediately quieted, murmuring apologies.

You bit back a smile, watching his transformation with newfound amusement. After seeing the playful, gentle side of him during the lesson with Hagrid, this intimidating persona of his now seemed more endearing than imposing. It was his way of keeping the chaos in check, and you couldn't help but admire how effortlessly he switched between the two sides of himself.

As you trailed behind him, snippets of hushed whispers reached your ears.

"Did they come back together?"

"Isn't that the Head Girl?"

"Are they… you know?"

You glanced at San and caught the slight gulp he tried to conceal, his stiff posture giving away his unease despite his poker face.

When you both reached the point where the dorms split, you turned to him, raising an eyebrow. He stood tall, keeping his expression neutral, though you could see the faintest flicker of nervousness in his eyes. The room fell silent, the curious gazes of your housemates fixed on the two of you.

You smirked, breaking the tension. "So, Hogsmeade this weekend, right?"

His eyes widened, and a soft gasp rippled through the common room. He cleared his throat, trying to maintain his composure as he met your gaze. "You… accept?"

You shrugged nonchalantly, though the playful glint in your eyes betrayed your amusement. "Well, you did say I could only join you earlier if I agreed to this. Seeing as we've already finished the lesson, that clearly means I've accepted, no?"

For a moment, his carefully constructed mask faltered, replaced by a grin so wide and boyish that it made your heart skip a beat. He didn't care about the whispers anymore as he stepped closer, his hand reaching out to give yours a gentle squeeze.

"It's a date then, Head Girl."

You smiled back, your voice light but teasing as you replied, "Sounds good, Head Boy."

The room erupted into murmurs and low cheers as you turned and walked toward your dorm, feeling his gaze follow you until you disappeared from sight. If San had been worried about his reputation before, it was clear now that he didn't care.

Not when it came to you.

Mingi ↠ Ravenclaw

The Son of a Famous Wizard Scientist

"Going somewhere, Song?"

Mingi cursed under his breath, reluctantly pulling the invisibility cloak off his frame to face you. You sat casually in one of the Ravenclaw common room chairs, a book in hand and an amused smirk playing on your lips. He looked thoroughly defeated. "How do you always figure me out?"

You chuckled, closing your book and setting it aside as you straightened up. "It's not that hard with your lack of stealth. I feel the breeze every time you pass by. Honestly, the real mystery is how Filch hasn't caught you yet."

He crossed his arms with a huff, a pout forming on his lips. "Ugh, what's it gonna take for you to pretend you didn't see me? My dad cannot find out. Name your price."

You tapped your chin, standing to your full height and eyeing the Marauder's Map in his hands. "I want in on whatever you're up to."

His brows shot up in surprise. "You? But aren't you like... the model Ravenclaw? Goody two shoes, follows every rule, reads for fun? Why would you risk your squeaky-clean image for something like this?"

You shrugged, a mischievous glint in your eye. "Let's just say I'm curious about what the great wizard scientist's son is always sneaking off to do instead of, I don't know, living up to everyone's—and your father's—expectations."

He sighed in defeat, lifting his left arm to gesture for you to join him under the cloak. "Fine, but don't say I didn't warn you. Just make sure you can keep up. And for Merlin's sake, please tell me your stealth skills are better than mine. You really don't want to run into Mrs. Norris."

"Trust me, I wouldn't dream of it," you replied, ducking under the cloak with him, your heart racing at the prospect of finally joining him on one of his adventures.

And so, that night marked the beginning of an unlikely yet thrilling partnership: you and Song Mingi, partners-in-crime navigating Hogwarts past curfew.

For someone as studious and rule-abiding as you, it was a surprising twist to find yourself sneaking through hidden passageways, clutching an invisibility cloak, and dodging prefects alongside someone like Mingi. But there was something irresistibly intriguing about him—the way he effortlessly balanced his rebellious streak with a sharp intellect, and how his lighthearted demeanour contrasted with the heavy expectations placed upon him.

You see, unlike your ordinary self, his life was all about finding his own path despite the pressures of his family name. As the son of a renowned wizarding scientist, expectations for him to follow in those illustrious footsteps were high. But Mingi? He wasn't interested in being defined by anyone else's legacy.

Sure, he had the smarts for it—his insights into magical theories often surprised you, even when they were thrown in casually during one of your late-night escapades. But instead of shouldering the weight of those expectations, he found joy in simply being himself. He explored magic for the sake of curiosity, not obligation.

Of course, it was hard for someone like him to truly fly under the radar. With his tall frame and infectious laugh, he had a knack for drawing attention no matter how much he tried to avoid it. He'd always play it off with an easy grin, though—effortlessly charming his way out of trouble (well, most of the time).

And now, here you were, walking beside him in the dead of night, laughing softly at his whispered commentary about the portraits on the walls. It was a side of him most people didn't see—carefree, thoughtful, and incredibly warm.

"Alright, where to next, partner?" you asked, barely containing your grin as you reached a fork in the corridor.

He glanced at the map, his finger tracing a path. "A secret stash of sweets hidden near the kitchens. Wanna check it out?"

"Only if you're willing to share," you teased, bumping his shoulder lightly.

He smirked, holding the cloak open as you ducked beneath it again. "Deal. But only because I need you to distract the house elves if we get caught."

With that, the two of you disappeared into the night, laughter echoing softly down the empty hallways. It was the start of a friendship, and perhaps something more that, against all odds, just worked.

On one of the slower days at school, the two of you lounged in the Great Hall, a wizard's chessboard between you. The usual hum of scattered conversations and the clinking of goblets provided a quiet backdrop as Mingi hunched over the board, his tall frame bent in concentration. His eyes darted between pieces, plotting his next move with a focus that made you smirk.

"I've got an idea," you said, leaning back with a teasing grin. "Whoever loses has to take on a dare during tonight's adventure."

His head shot up, a glimmer of intrigue lighting up his eyes. He grinned, his expression a mix of mischief and admiration for the rebellious streak you seemed to save just for him. "Oh, it's on."

The match stretched out with calculated moves and sly counters, both of you pouring focus into claiming victory. But when your queen finally cornered his king, you leaned back with a triumphant grin. "Checkmate," you declared, watching the realisation dawn on his face.

He groaned theatrically, throwing his head back. "Noooo!"

You laughed, folding your arms smugly. "Now, about that dare..."

He straightened in his seat, narrowing his eyes as he tried to guess your plan. "Alright, hit me with your worst."

A mischievous gleam danced in your eyes as you leaned forward and whispered, "Tonight, when we sneak out, you have to charm Moaning Myrtle with your best pickup lines."

His jaw dropped, his ears turning an amusing shade of red. "You want me to flirt with a ghost?!"

"That's the dare," you said, grinning wider.

He blinked at you in disbelief, then let out a booming laugh, shaking his head. "You're insane. But fine—a deal's a deal."

As the two of you packed up, you noticed a flicker of something softer in his gaze. He clearly enjoyed this side of you, the playful daring you didn't often let others see.

The night was quiet as you snuck through the dark hallways, huddled beneath the invisibility cloak. The close proximity made it impossible to ignore the way your shoulders brushed, or how you could feel his breath softly against your ear as he whispered directions. You tried to focus, but the warmth radiating from him and the faint smell of his cologne made it difficult.

He wasn't faring any better. His movements felt unusually cautious, his arm brushing against yours more often than necessary, his voice a little lower than usual when he whispered, "Careful where you step."

Ironically, it was his warning that broke your concentration. Your foot landed on something uneven, and before you could stop yourself, you tripped, sending a potted plant toppling from its perch.

The crash echoed loudly through the corridor. "What was that?!" Filch's voice screeched in the distance, sending panic shooting through you both.

"Move!" Mingi hissed, grabbing your hand and pulling you into the nearest room. The door creaked shut just as the school caretaker's hurried footsteps grew louder.

You realised, to your dismay, that the "room" was a cramped broom cupboard. The two of you were squished together in the small space, the invisibility cloak still draped awkwardly over your heads. Your breathing was ragged from the sudden sprint, and you both struggled to keep quiet as Filch's grumbling grew nearer.

"Stupid kids sneaking around… I'll catch them sooner or later," he muttered as his footsteps faded in the opposite direction.

Only when the sound of his boots disappeared entirely did you dare to speak. "We're safe now," you whispered.

"Yeah," Mingi murmured back, his voice quieter than usual.

That's when you noticed just how close you were. Your heart stuttered as you looked up, your nose grazing his. His dark eyes locked onto yours, and you could feel his breath, warm and shallow, mingling with your own. Neither of you moved, the air between you was charged and heavy.

He swallowed hard, his hand slowly brushing against yours beneath the cloak. "I know I lost the game," he whispered, his voice barely audible. "But... is it alright if I flirt with someone else tonight?"

Your breath caught, your thoughts spinning as he leaned in closer, his lips barely brushing yours.

"That depends on who it is," you whispered back, your voice shaky.

He smiled softly, his eyes flicking between yours and your lips. "You."

Your heart skipped a beat. Without thinking, your hand slid up to grip the collar of his shirt as you murmured, "Fine."

Then, closing the final distance, you pressed your lips to his. When you finally pulled away, the world felt different as you stayed close, foreheads touching. He let out a soft chuckle, his thumb brushing over your cheek. "Best dare I've ever lost."

You smiled. "Guess I'll have to keep challenging you then, Song."

"Guess you will," he whispered, leaning in for another kiss.

Wooyoung ↠ Gryffindor

The Talented Quidditch Beater

"Woo, you got it! That's my boy!"

The sound of your voice rang out across the pitch, instantly catching Wooyoung's attention. A grin lit up his face as he turned mid-flight on his Nimbus 2000, his eyes sparkling as they met yours.

"I'll make you proud, babe!" he called back, his tone brimming with confidence.

"Not if you can't keep your eyes on the game," his teammate—another Beater—shouted, swooping in just in time to deflect a bludger barreling toward him.

His eyes widened at the close call before a sheepish, boyish grin spread across his face. "Thanks, mate. That was a little too close!"

He turned his attention back to you, throwing you a playful wink and blowing a kiss in your direction. "Love you," he mouthed with a quick smirk, clearly revelling in the way your worried gaze softened into a smile.

And then, just like that, he was off again, zooming across the pitch like the fearless champ he was, ready to win not just for his team, but for the person cheering him on from the stands.

Pride swelled in your chest like a warm, unrelenting tide as you watched your boyfriend play. It was almost surreal to think about how far the two of you had come—especially since there was a time when you couldn't stand him.

Back then, Jung Wooyoung was everything you couldn't tolerate: loud, attention-seeking, and constantly wreaking havoc with his pranks. He was the popular Gryffindor Quidditch star with a magnetic grin, always surrounded by friends and admirers. Meanwhile, you were his polar opposite—a shy, studious student with no interest in shenanigans, focused solely on excelling in your studies and making your parents proud.

It all started when one of his pranks nearly ruined your Transfiguration assignment. Furious, you'd confronted him in front of half the common room, calling him reckless and immature. Wooyoung, never one to back down, had retaliated with a smirk, calling you boring and stiff. That marked the beginning of your rivalry—petty remarks, pointed glares, and intentionally getting on each other's nerves became routine.

But everything changed the day he overheard a group of Slytherins mocking you. Their cruel taunts about your Muggle heritage—and the word "Mudblood" slicing through the air—left you reeling. Before you could even muster a response, he stepped in, his usual playful demeanour replaced by something sharp and unyielding.

"What did you just say?" he demanded, his voice low and dangerous. The bullies faltered under his glare, and though they tried to brush it off, he didn't let them escape unscathed. He stood firm, defending you with a conviction that left you stunned.

From that day on, the dynamic between you shifted. He made it clear that no one was to mess with you—not even his own friends, who had occasionally targeted you with harmless pranks. In return, you stopped berating him for his antics, accepting that his mischief was simply part of who he was. Over time, you found yourself laughing at his jokes, and he discovered a softer side to you that few others had ever seen.

Years passed, and that fragile truce evolved into friendship. Somewhere along the way, the friendship blossomed into something deeper, something neither of you could ignore. And now, here you were, standing in the Gryffindor stands, cheering him on with every fibre of your being.

Only after being with him did you truly understand why so many adored him for his talent. On the pitch, he was in his element. As a Beater, he thrived on adrenaline, his bat swinging with precision as he sent a bludger hurtling toward the opposing team. He was a natural showman, hyping up the crowd with daring plays and cheeky winks. Though his mischievous nature was ever-present, he became fiercely competitive during matches, his focus unshakable when it came to leading his house to victory.

You smiled as he executed a flawless manoeuvre, his laughter echoing across the pitch when the crowd erupted into cheers. He was so different from the boy you had once disliked, yet so quintessentially the same. His charm, his energy, his ability to make everyone around him feel alive—it was impossible not to love him for it.

"Watch this, babe!" he called as he rocketed past the stands, his grin wide and unrestrained. He was a whirlwind of passion and joy, and he was yours. And somehow, you wouldn't have it any other way.

"Aaaand Gryffindor wins!"

The roar of the crowd filled the stadium as the Gryffindor Seeker triumphantly held up the golden snitch, the tiny wings glinting under the bright sun. Cheers echoed through the stands, Gryffindor flags waving wildly in celebration. You cheered, knowing that much of this victory was thanks to your boyfriend, who had spent the game clearing the path for his teammate with skilful swings of his bat.

Amid the chaos, Wooyoung's sharp eyes immediately sought you out. Despite the throng of screaming fans and his own teammates clamouring to celebrate, all he could see was you. Without hesitation, he veered his broom in your direction, ignoring the unmistakable warning glare from Professor McGonagall.

Hovering in front of you, he flashed his signature grin, his chest rising and falling from the adrenaline of the match. Before you could say a word, he leaned in and kissed you, his lips warm and slightly chapped from the cold wind. The crowd's cheers seemed to fade as you felt his smile against your own, your cheeks heating with the realisation of how public this display was.

When you pulled away, your voice was barely above a whisper. "That's enough, Woo. You don't want detention now, do you?"

He laughed, his eyes sparkling with mischief. "I wouldn't mind it if you were there too." With a wink, he flew off to join his team, leaving you blinking sheepishly under Professor McGonagall's sharp gaze.

You cleared your throat, attempting to smooth down your robes as you mumbled, "Sorry, Professor."

To your surprise, her expression softened, and she gestured for you to walk with her as the stands began to empty. "Don't be," she said, her voice measured but kind. "You're a good motivator for him. We appreciate it. I won't lie and say our victories haven't increased since you came into the picture."

Her words left you blushing furiously as you followed her down the steps. Did that mean even she shipped you and Wooyoung? The very thought had you hiding a bashful smile behind your scarf, the cheers of the Gryffindor team still ringing in your ears.

Jongho ↠ Slytherin

The Scary Prefect Who Commands Respect

"There he is! Shhh, keep it down!"

Your friends scrambled to settle into their seats, hastily lowering their voices and pretending to focus on the books in front of them. You followed their lead, keeping your head down as the most intimidating prefect of Slytherin entered the library. Choi Jongho's very name was enough to make most students sit up straight, and his imposing presence only amplified that effect. His silence carried more weight than words ever could, commanding obedience and respect effortlessly.

You swallowed hard, trying to concentrate on the text in front of you, but your focus wavered the moment his footsteps stopped—right beside you. Your heart raced as you eyed his polished shoes, unsure if you'd done something wrong. Too nervous to meet his gaze, you froze in place, waiting for whatever came next.

"Here. I think you dropped this," he said, his voice low yet unexpectedly warm.

Your eyes widened at the gentle tone, and you glanced up to see him holding out your late father's pocket watch. The faintest trace of a smile tugged at the corners of his lips—so fleeting you wondered if you'd imagined it.

"O-oh, thank you," you stammered, taking the cherished item from him. A spark shot through you when your fingers brushed against his, leaving your heart fluttering in a way you hadn't anticipated.

"You're welcome," he replied simply, his voice kind yet measured, before continuing on his patrol.

As you watched him walk away, a realisation settled in your mind—perhaps he wasn't as fearsome as everyone claimed.

Jongho's reputation was well-earned. As a Slytherin prefect, he didn't need to raise his voice to maintain order. A single stern look was enough to make any student think twice about misbehaving, and his word was as final as it was rare. Yet, those who truly knew him understood there was more to him than his intimidating exterior. Beneath the cool, composed demeanour was a steadfast friend with a laugh that could shatter his usual seriousness in an instant.

And soon, you would become one of the few to witness that softer side of him—though, for now, you had no idea what lay ahead.

It was on a particularly eerie evening that you would come to learn the truth. The air hung heavy with an unsettling stillness as you wandered along the outskirts of the Forbidden Forest, seeking solitude to clear your mind after a gruelling week. The low-hanging clouds cloaked the forest in shadows, and the quiet seemed almost too oppressive.

But peace was the last thing you found.

A low, menacing growl rippled through the trees, stopping you dead in your tracks. Your breath caught as you turned, your wand trembling in your hand, to face a pair of glowing eyes cutting through the darkness.

A werewolf.

Your heart pounded wildly as the creature advanced, its snarling lips curling back to reveal rows of sharp teeth. Panic seized you. You tried to cast a spell, but fear made your movements clumsy, and the incantation faltered on your tongue. The werewolf snarled again, its deadly intent unmistakable.

You were sure you were doomed.

Suddenly, a thunderous roar shattered the tense silence, startling both you and the beast. From the shadows emerged a massive bear, its fur bristling and eyes blazing with an otherworldly fury. The bear wasted no time, charging at the werewolf with raw power and unmatched ferocity.

Their clash was brutal and swift, the werewolf no match for the bear's strength and determination. Before long, the defeated creature limped off into the safety of the forest, leaving you frozen in place, trembling from head to toe.

The bear turned its attention to you, its intelligent gaze locking onto yours. Despite your fear, there was something strangely familiar in the way it looked at you—almost protective.

And then, to your utter disbelief, the bear began to shift. Its enormous form shrank, fur receding as its features morphed into something distinctly human. In a matter of moments, you found yourself staring at Choi Jongho, his sharp eyes unwavering as they met yours.

"You…" The word barely escaped your lips, your voice a mere whisper. "You're an animagus?"

His jaw tightened briefly before he nodded. "Yes," he admitted, his tone steady but quiet.

You blinked, your mind racing to process what you had just witnessed. It wasn't just the transformation that left you reeling—it was the way he had risked himself to save you. "Why didn't you tell anyone?" you finally managed.

He let out a soft sigh, running a hand through his hair. For the first time, you saw the stoic facade crack, revealing something raw beneath. "People already think I'm intimidating enough," he said, his voice laced with vulnerability. "If they knew I could turn into a bear, they'd see me as a monster. Even if I chose this form to protect, not harm."

Your chest tightened at his words, at the loneliness he must have carried. His stern demeanour suddenly made sense—it was a shield, a way to keep others from seeing the parts of himself he feared they wouldn't understand.

"But it's not a bad thing," you said softly, taking a step closer. "You became an animagus for a noble reason. That says more about who you are than anything else."

His gaze softened, the hard lines of his face easing just slightly. "I appreciate that," he murmured. "But not everyone would see it the same way. People fear what they don't understand."

For the first time, you saw through the intimidating exterior everyone else feared. Beneath it all, he was just someone who cared deeply, someone who bore the weight of his secrets quietly for the sake of those around him.

"Thank you for saving me," you said earnestly, your voice steady despite the storm of emotions swirling inside you. "Your secret's safe with me. I promise."

He nodded, the faintest smile tugging at the corner of his lips. "It's my pleasure," he replied, his tone warm yet reserved. "Now, you should get back. It's not safe out here."

"And you?"

"I'll make sure the forest is clear," he assured you, his protective instincts shining through. "Go. I'll be right behind you."

As you made your way back to the castle, your mind was consumed with thoughts of Jongho. The boy who had just saved your life was so much more than the fearsome prefect everyone believed him to be. And now, you carried a piece of his truth, a secret that revealed a depth to him you never would have imagined.

From then on, something shifted.

You became one of the few who dared to hold his gaze, the rare recipient of his fleeting smiles. Where others saw the intimidating Slytherin prefect, you saw the quiet strength and vulnerability he kept hidden beneath the surface. And nothing shocked people more than seeing him sit next to you at breakfast in the Great Hall.

Whispers rippled through the tables, curious and incredulous alike. Choi Jongho, the stoic and fearsome prefect, sitting with someone? A girl? The novelty was enough to turn heads, but what truly caught people's attention was the way he looked at you.

There was something unmistakable in his eyes—a quiet affection, soft and unguarded, as if your presence unravelled the walls he so carefully maintained.

He glanced over at you as you finished your meal, his expression relaxed yet tinged with curiosity. "Where are you headed after this?" he asked, his tone casual but attentive.

You wiped your hands with a napkin, smiling up at him. "The Duelling Club."

His eyebrows rose in mild surprise. "The Duelling Club? But why?"

You bit back a laugh at his incredulity, placing your fork down with an amused shake of your head. "Because someone with a very admirable trait has inspired me," you said, your voice warm with sincerity. "To be stronger, to protect those around me too."

The words caught him off guard, and you watched as his usual composure faltered. He blinked, a faint flush creeping up his neck and into his cheeks. The sight was endearing, a rare glimpse of boyishness in the otherwise composed prefect.

He cleared his throat awkwardly, reaching for his goblet of pumpkin juice and taking a long sip as if it might steady him. Setting it down, he muttered softly, "You don't have to." His eyes flickered to yours, vulnerable but earnest. "You'll always have me."

Your chest warmed at his words, his quiet promise resonating deeply. He might have been the boy feared by many, but to you, he was simply someone who cared more deeply than he let on.

You leaned forward slightly, a teasing smile playing on your lips. "I know," you said, your voice gentle but firm. "But it doesn't hurt to know how to hold my own, does it?"

He exhaled a quiet chuckle, the corner of his lips curving upward in a rare but genuine smile. "Fair enough," he conceded, his gaze lingering on yours for a moment longer before turning back to his plate. "But I'm coming with."

Any fellow Potterheads here? Humour this poor author and tell me about your Hogwarts house, your favourite Harry Potter book/movie as well as your favourite character! Most importantly, let me know if you agree with the houses I've sorted the members into!

Hope you enjoyed this! As always, thank you for reading and let me know your thoughts! <3

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[specshroom]

Ok so what do you think would make a monster INSTANTLY attracted to someone. And then how do you think they would vocalize/show it?With said monsters being orcs, merfolk, centaurs, driders, werewolves, and vampires

Okokok so these are all obviously just my opinion :) but here we go:

🧌 I think in orc culture the women initiate romantically and sexually just as much as the men, as opposed to human culture where the men generally are expected to initiate more. So I think any orc would find it hot if you were the one to flirt and initiate contact first.

- They like humans who know what they want and go for it.

- They like humans who can hold their liquor. They just think it's hot.

- They like humans who are a little vulgar. Who swear and shout and are a little rowdy maybe?

- So if you want to attract an orc your best bet would be to just go up to one and flirt heavily with them. If they like you they'll think it's hot that you show your attraction so boldly and they'll flirt back just as hard.

🧜Merfolk generally keep to themselves and their underwater cities. For a merfolk to be swimming in shallow waters means they're probably curious about the surface already.

- These merfolk will be instantly intrigued by a human who is as interested in them as the merfolk is with the surface. They just really like humans who try and talk to them, frantically ask them questions about their species and just seem enamored with their existence.

- A merfolk will fall for a human who brings them cool human stuff they've never seen before and enthusiastically tells them stories about the surface world.

- They'd appreciate humans who aren't scared to swim with them. They know the water is not a humans natural place and that it takes a lot of trust for them to be so vulnerable. They'd straight up take that as a confession of love from the human.

🐎 In my head centaurs are often depicted as strong stern types. Like noble warriors and such so I think they'd admire humans who are resourceful and independent.

- They won't like any human who disrespects nature. Killing unnecessarily or destroying/ littering wildlife is an absolute no go.

- They like outdoorsy humans who like nature walks or mountain climbing, that kind of shit. Anything from fishing to bird watching really.

- They find archery very attractive for some reason.

- Centaurs are known for being steely and almost cold so if one likes you they probably won't show it immediately but slowly over time by engaging in your shared interests.

🕷️ I think driders are often starved for affection. In my headcanon, driders don't get much affection from their parents because they're very independent and able from a young age so they're never really coddled as children.

- So I think driders would like a human who treats them very gently and sweetly despite not needing too at all because they're fierce hunters.

- They're not the most approachable monsters with their eight beady eyes and venom filled chelicerae. They don't initiate with humans much because they know they can be frightening. It can be isolating for them so they'd love if a human showed no fear towards them and instead treated them as if they were cute rather than scary.

- They'd be absolutely smitten if a human coddled and babied them, calling them grossly sweet petnames like "cutey", "darling" or "baby" while caressing their face gently. Just treating them with such care even though they could kill the human very easily. They might even cry from the affection.

🦇 I think vampires appreciate humans who aren't childish but still have a love for life. People who are lively and curious about the world but still mature and driven.

- I think humans who are exciting and have a thirst for life is what attracts vampires cus it helps them reignite their own love for life which may have dwindled after so many years of being immortal.

- Humans who are reckless with their own lives are a turn off. Vampires already have to experience losing many close ones due to immortality so I don't think they'd appreciate someone who disregards their life or the lives of others carelessly.

- Vampires are harder to categorise because they all come from different backgrounds and stuff but I think if a vampire liked a human most of them would have to know one for a while before bringing up anything serious. They understand the stakes (hah) of falling in love with humans and act accordingly.

🐺 Dog people. Werewolves like dog people. Sorry I know it's basic but I think werewolves are often simple creatures so what attracts them is relatively simple. Nothing wrong with that.

- They see a human walking their dog and they just go "I have a chance!!"

- They like humans who smell like their dog or have dog fur on their clothes, they think it's cute.

- They think it's so cute when humans baby talk dogs while giving them pets. It makes their own tails wag sometimes.

- Now that doesn't mean they like being treated like dogs cus they don't. They just think a dog person is a huge green flag in humans.

- Don't worry, this doesn't mean they hate cat people but they are more likely to flirt and initiate conversation with someone who has a dog or who smells like they own a dog.

[lymtw]

Rough Day

Thinking of Toji coming home to you after a rough day at work. On a normal day he would call out to you the second he steps through the front door, but today he's not in the mood to be loud. He silently walks through the living room, into the hallway where he directs himself towards the bedroom, where he knows you are. He's dirty and sweaty and there's somebody's blood drying on the fabric of his shirt. Luckily, it's just a small area. You won't spot it on your own, and Toji won't be showing it off to you.

The door creaks open and you're there, lying on your stomach, in bed. You're distracted by your phone, too zoned into your own serene little world to notice that Toji was home. He can smell your shampoo and the lotion you used, in the air, the smell getting stronger as he makes his way towards the bed. His stealthiness is a threat, never to you, but the fact that you didn't turn around once really had him thinking about your safety.

He didn't waste another second just looming over you. Slowly, he crawled onto the bed and before you managed to shriek or say something about how he scared the crap out of you, he laid right on top of you, crushing you and revoking your ability to make any sounds but groans under his weight.

"Toji?" you call, once you get accustomed to the pressure your bear of a man added onto you. He doesn't respond, and instead buries his face into the crook of your neck, getting a deeper whiff of the scent that emanated off of you. "Toji?" You try again, turning your head slightly.

"You smell pretty. Could smell you the second I walked in the room," he hums, inhaling your clean scent.

"Yeah, I just showered. Don't you wanna go get cleaned up, too? Dinner's ready."

"Of course I do. Thanks, doll. Just let me have you like this for a sec."

You had no argument for that. You laid there, flat on the bed beneath him, and allowed him all the time necessary to relax. He was quiet, and his hold on you was a little tighter than usual. That wasn't what brought you to your conclusion, but it was clear that he wasn't his usual self.

Something about being able to wrap himself around your entire body was comforting to Toji. It made him feel like he was keeping you safe, like he was the soft blanket you cover yourself with at night, rather than a man who comes home with blood stains on his clothes.

You were the one thing he was positive he would come home to, and that was enough. You were more than enough for him. He always felt there was no way to pay back for every day you spent accepting him as he is. All those nights when you let him hold you, even after he made you cry. Those mornings when you woke up with a heavy heart, alone, only to find out through a text message that he had to leave for work early.

Undeserving was a small word to Toji. It was you still finding it in yourself to give him the warmest of welcomes every day—a greeting normally dedicated to heroes, that made him obsess over finding a word that was more fitting for him.

He loves you and he's serious about it. He knows the infinite range of his love for you and regardless of how small his heart seems compared to yours, you decorate every inch of space within it, and when it reaches its maximum capacity, you go to his head. The space is littered with images of you, like posters on a wall. The space is so crowded that some of them are hanging on to the walls of his mind for dear life. There are images of your guilty smile after you knock a glass of water over and it shatters, another of the look on your face as you try not to laugh when he tries on a shirt that clearly isn't his size, and memories of the times when you would pamper him when he wasn't feeling well, insisting on still sleeping next to him, incase he needs something in the middle of the night.

It all adds up to this clingy behavior he reserves for you. When the day treats him like trash being kicked around by everyone on a sidewalk, he comes home to appreciate the one who embraces him and unconditionally loves him.

He knows his weight on your back must be unbearable and he definitely doesn't smell as good as you, either, but he can't move. Not yet.

"I could stay like this forever, doll. Would you let me?" He smiles for the first time in a bit when he sees your shoulders shaking, paired with the sweet sound of your laugh.

"Of course, baby. I'd willingly stay like this for you."

And he groans. It's like a form of cuteness aggression, but it derives from the fact that he can't believe that you're with him, and that you're so saintly, and he can't for the life of him stop thinking of you. He kisses your jaw and strongly resists the urge to bite your cheek and squeeze you until you can't breathe at all.

His breathing quickens a little when he thinks of how detrimental it would be to his life if you walked away for good, one day. Things are so good, but he can't help but think that the next time they aren't, it'll be an enormous hit to everything he has with you. Maybe you're waiting for the next argument to drop everything. Maybe you secretly can't stand him. Maybe you don't need him. Maybe-

His overthinking is cut off by a low growl, followed by a nervous giggle that is muffled by the pillow you buried your face in.

"Sorry," you lift your head to say, fighting the laughter bubbling in your throat.

"You're hungry." There's a barely there crease between his brows. It's late and your stomach is growling. He doesn't want to think about you skipping meals.

"I wanted to wait for you," you chirp, turning your head the slightest bit to give him a beaming smile.

"Baby." The second he sees the corners of your lips begin to straighten out, he stifles the scolding he was about to hit you with. "I can't even be mad at you. Have you eaten anything at all today?"

Your silence was all he needed to understand that you were running on fumes. He sighs, mentally cursing you for being so careless with yourself for his sake.

"I'm gonna shower, and you're gonna meet me in the kitchen in ten minutes. Will you survive that long? I don't know, but you have to." He kisses your temple a couple times, rolling off of you and directing himself to his clothing drawers.

Your lungs expand and you feel so much lighter without his weight on you. You flip over onto your back, stretching for a moment before you turn over to watch Toji rummage through his drawers. His sixth sense kicks in and he can feel your gaze on the back of his head.

"I love you, doll." He stands still, waiting seconds too long for your response. He turns his head to the side, facing the blank wall of the room. His ear is turned in your direction as to not miss the sound of your voice.

You sit up, prepared to say it back with every fiber of your being. You can see his fingers tapping against the top of the dresser. You don't mean to bring unease to his mind, your intention is to do the exact opposite. "I love you so, sooo much, Toji."

He lets the clothes he picked out plop onto the dresser, and he turns around to head back to you. He holds your gaze until he reaches you. It's the first good look you've gotten at him since he got home. You can't help but smile at the familiar sight of those green eyes and that pretty nose, and those scarred lips. He never failed to make you swoon, even during times when there was a lack of words.

His hands cupped your jaw before he leaned down to kiss you. The duration of his kisses weren't thought out, let alone planned. What was supposed to be ten minutes until you met him in the kitchen, turned into double the amount of time, because he wouldn't let you go. You were just as guilty for the delay, feeling so much ease and comfort with the words he imbedded into his kisses. Eventually you started telling him to go, between kisses and laughter, reminding him that you would be there when he got out. He ignored you until your stomach growled again.

"Fine," he grumbled, placing one more peck on your lips before he left you alone.

[cxffecoupx]

cheol as a boy dad

boy dad! seungcheol fluff, requested warnings: reader has a womb, cheol being down bad for his baby boy word count: 705 author's notes: requested by anon (thank you so much!!) I hope you like it. i never really thought about boy dad cause cheol's definitely a girl dad for me but I loved writing this so much! Lemme know what you think :) check out 'cheol as a girl dad' here.

boy dad! cheol who starts crying in the hospital seeing a junior version of him. his big boba eyes are yours, no doubt, but the little pout that finds home on his baby's lips are unmistakably his — even he can't deny it. his eyes start watering when his baby boy holds his index finger with his whole palm.

boy dad! cheol who litters gentle kisses on your sweaty face, murmuring the sweetest of praises on how you did so well and how your baby is a sweet healthy boy who looks like the best of them both. your tears melt into his as you both happily sob over this moment of joy.

boy dad! cheol who you always find around your baby, smiling and cooing at him, playing with him and his toys and always bringing a wide grin to your baby's face. the child's laughter fills your little home and you can't help but sigh in content.

boy dad! cheol who always traces the baby's features delicately: the eyes that reflect the same shine that yours hold, the lips that pout the same way he does, the little button nose and the cheeks that seungcheol withholds the urge to bite because they're so chubby and so.... biteable (the cuteness aggression is so real right now!!)

boy dad! cheol who loves to dress your child in matching clothes as his. you search for seungcheol as you browse through the women's section, only to find him approaching you with two same shirts in different sizes. everytime you all go out you stand out because you're walking around with two same people, just different fonts.

boy dad! cheol who wraps his hands around your waist and kisses your neck, surprising you as you make dinner. who always takes time to appreciate you about all the struggles you had to deal with during the pregnancy, and how you've made him more happy than any man in this world.

you turn around and start kissing him, but just as things were about to dive deeper, your little trouble-maker stumbles up to you both and starts tugging on your pants. seungcheol grabs the child and tucking him in between you both, gives you and your child a bone-crushing hug that ends up making your son giggle endlessly. cheol gently whispers how he's holding his world in his arms right now, and your cheeks hurt from smiling so hard.

boy dad! cheol who pouts and whines everytime your son ignores him and runs to you. you don't realise how, but your son takes more liking to you, running to you first whenever you return home from somewhere, or whenever he needs something. although seungcheol loves to see it, he lowkey hates how he's just left there, hands outstretched for a hug hanging in the air. he dramatically falls to the floor, kicking his feet and whining which makes your son run from your arms to fall onto his dad's chest, giggling with how cheol tickles him.

boy dad! cheol who gets so excited to take your son to the first day of his school. although having to leave him makes his sad, he's excited for his son's new step in his life and will be all ears to hear him talk all about whatever happened at school. he sneakily gives his son a sweet treat without you knowing (it's their little secret now) as he tells everything he learnt in class that day.

boy dad! cheol who always teaches his son to respect everyone he meets in his life. he hopes that his son learns from watching the way he treats you, his wife, with all the love and respect he could give. he hopes that one day, when his son grows up, he treats his wife the same way seungcheol treats you now.

boy dad! cheol who, even though secretly wished for a baby girl, becomes extremely elated with his precious little baby boy, in whom he sees both you and him. hes feels like the luckiest man on earth — with a wife he loves with every inch of him and a lovely son who he wants to keep happy for the rest of his life. his little, happy family.

[bunnis-monsters]

I'll keep this one simple: Shy merman you befriend as a child and visit as often as you can throughout the years. He slowly gets more confident over time and- that's all I thought of- Whether it be sfw or nsfw is up to you! (I think I'd prefer either both or just sfw) Sorry if this is too vague!

A/N: this is a request for my 5K event! I am doing ALL requests I get within the next 24 hours, send one while you can!

It had been a few months since you last saw him. The two of you grew up together, friends ever since you helped untangle his tail from some fishing line.

He didn’t tell you why, but every summer since his 13th birthday he had been traveling away during the fall, leaving you all alone and missing him.

This time, when he returned during the winter, he was… different.

Large scars littered his belly and arms and he looked hungry and weak… but strangely satisfied. When you rushed to meet him, tears streaming down your cheeks, he smiled wider than he’d ever smiled before.

“I did it, (Name)…”

He gathered you in his arms, making sure you didn’t touch the icy cold water. You could barely make out anything he said through your tears, but blubbered out a quick response. “D-did what!? You’re hurt, I-“

He quieted you with a kiss, setting you down gently on a rock so he could move his face to your neck and deliver a mating bite.

“I defeated a great white… now… I can officially become your mate…”

Your mind was reeling from the new information and fuzzy feeling his kisses and bites gave you. You attempted to speak again but his tongue was already down your throat.

He seemed desperate, as if he wanted this for a while.

“All these years, I’ve never been able to beat one. Since I was 13, I knew I wanted to be your mate…”

He undid your thick pants, pushing them down to your thighs. He was too focused on pushing into your warm cunt to bother with undressing you completely, wanting to form the mating bond as quickly as he could.

You cried out as his large cock entered you, his webbed fingers holding onto your hips as he fucked into your needy cunt. His eyes were half lidded, animalistic noises leaving his lips as he mated you for the first time.

“I love you… I’ve always loved you, since the day you saved me… I’ll always be yours, and you’ll be mine…”

He kept fucking you, filling your womb with his cum until your thighs and ass were red from the cold. Despite wanting nothing more than to breed you until your stomach was heavy and swollen, he took you back to shore to make sure you didn’t freeze.

“I… missed you…” you said, still processing everything. You felt too good to care much about the cold or how fast it all happened, your heart soaring at the way he cooed and kissed you as he kept your body above the water.

“And I missed you, my love…”

From then on, you made sure to save up and get a house on the beach where you could visit your mate… and make sure he could see how your belly swelled with his young.

———————

NSFW TAGLIST: @sunset-214 @screaming-crying-screamingagain @strawberrypoundtown @avalordream @icommitwarcrimes @bazpire @im-eating-rn @anglingforlevels @kinshenewa @pasteldaze @j3llyphisching @unforgettablewhvre @yoongiigolden @peachesdabunny @murder-hobo @leiselotte @misswonderfrojustice @dij-ology @i8kaeya @lollboogurl @h3110-dar1in9 @keikokashi @aliceattheart @mssmil3y

[thewriterg]

𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬 𝐧𝐞𝐰

pairing(s); simon riley x fem!reader, reader x toxic family

summary; You tried to keep it together to keep him away from it to not get attached but it only take one situation for you to come crumbling down reaching out to simon for comfort —angstober day;14—

word count; 900+

warning(s); age gap, sweetheart is her/your own warning, thinking college student reader so like early twenties and simon is about mid to late forties, arguments, crying, angst, kisses, pet names, mention of violence, simon abt to risk it all, and language

playlist; nothings new by rio romeo

A/n:—GIFs; @astrolux111 & @silenthqll— GIF does not determine race

Simon was up it didn’t take much to wake him and when he heard the footsteps approaching his flat front door he was up the handgun from his scratched wooden nightstand that he’d bought off some older man who he was sure had passed to the unknown by now

The rough knocks on his door frame were demanding and rushed as if the person behind the wood was on time crunch he approached the door the firearm clutched in his hand his finger taking no time to rest on the trigger his hand was on the nob before he swung the door open his eyebrows furrowing not expecting to see what was in his line of sight

Your eyes were red and puffy tear streaks stringing your face your hair out of place as well as your shifted clothes Simon swiftly setting down his defense on standing table next to his door grabbing your arm to bring you into the shelter of his home he checks over your body to find nothing alarming but the soaking wet clothes clinging to your body

“S-simon” Is all you can get out as your body racked with sobs you shoulders hunched and he wraps an arm around you littered with tattoos your face hidden in his chest covered by the cotton tshirt that was a little small on him your cold wet clothes transferring onto his as shushes you slowly moving you into his bedroom sitting you on his mattress slipping your drenched shirt over your head as you sniffle your head throbbing from the continuous tears and energy spent you didn’t realize you were dressed in dry attire until you were getting picked up and suddenly the weighed down fabric wasn’t overwhelming you anymore your legs wraps around the blondes torso lying your head on his shoulder you body still shivering as you felt yourself dip onto his worn mattress rubbing his hands down your goosebump covered arms

“Come on love what’s the matter with my sweet girl, hmm? Tell Si what’s the matter” Something triggers in you causing more streams of tears to fall down your face and you try to speak choking out incoherent words and sniffles simon rubs a hand over your hair pressing a kiss your forehead his brain screaming at him to to go punch the nearest punk out on the street because there has to be something, something major to keep you acting this way

“I don’t want you to leave me” You body wracks you chest feels like it’s gonna cave any minute you feel like your airway you’ll be cut off and your sound will be free from your body

“Sweetheart it’s gonna take more than a few tears to get rid of me, matter of fact you won’t be able to you understand?” You nod your head before your spewing everything weighing your chest down to the floor about you family and how they make you feel more down then you’d ever been without meaning to the situation I particular causing your weaker construction to tip over and collapse your siblings couldn’t keep their hands out of your things and this time it had did it you’d been saving for a new laptop for class it cost more than you liked to admit and your sister god you loved her but she was at the age where she couldn’t keep her hands off of thing your things to be exact and long story short your laptop was broken in your sisters hands you berated her scolded her it was the least you could do for the trouble she caused you

When your parents arrived home you expected them to finish the job rip your sister a new one she ran into your father arms rambling of how mean and what a monster you are and even after you told your parents about what she had done she’s barely get a slap on the wrist you were older you shouldn’t yell at the younger ones defending your honor and standing your ground got you yelled at a stinging mark on your cheek

“My h-head hurts” You whimpered after a moment of silence and it was true you didn’t know how long you’ve been crying for and your head felt like it was going to explode Simon sets you down on the mattress briefly your head still spinning and pounding in your ears he leaves and returns again two pain killers that look like a spec of nothing in his palm he sets and on your cheek gently prying your jaw open setting the drugs on your tongue before you swallow the he praises you for it and your realize how much of a all time low you are

“Come on sweetheart no more tears you know it’ll make it worse” This time you’re not sobbing from the pain your chest but rather the pain your head hiccups slipping from your lips falling apart in his grasp and he held you like he always will and as he always had

He’d glue all your broke pieces back together

©2023 thewriterg spooktober do not copy, translate, or modify.

NEW; sweetheart and simon headcanons

[gay-dorito-dust]

hey, i really enjoyed reading your angst drabbles and i was thinking if you could write something like Viktor neglecting reader and all her attempts to be close to him again, and when she decides to give up on him, she almost die in the council room explosion, after he stood her up again, leaving her in some state of coma. then he regret everything, after all she should’ve been with him…

sorry if i made some mistakes, english is not my first language but im trying my best! 🫶🏻

Ah yes, more angst *laughs maniacally in several cups of coffee and severe need to make ppl cry* also your English is perfect, no need to apologise sweetie. Also! This is extremely long cuz I got carried away. Hope you enjoy tho! 🫶🫶

You adored Viktor greatly, for to you there was not a man who could match his brilliance and his resilience, his determination to see everything that he’s put his whole heart and soul into this hextech project through. Everything about him was enticing to you from his dream to better the lives of others, the twinkle in his amber eyes when he had made a scientific breakthrough, not to mention the way he became more animated and eager to talk as he spoke about it; he sounded more alive then ever before which you loved for him.

However what once brought you happiness would eventually become your downfall for as of recent memories as tensions between Piltover and Zaun heightened to a dangerous degree, Viktor had more or less had secluded himself to the lab from the early hours of the morning, rarely to come out for anything or anyone. Gone were the days where you’d see him in the hallways of the academy, blessing you with his beautiful smile as his amber eyes only seemed to glow within your presence in familiarity, offering a short greeting in passing but the recognition of your existence by him was more then a full length conversation with him would have given you.

He left your peripheral vision with nothing to remind you of moment, nothing but a flutter within your chest that’s warm and suffocating as the same time. Now you were left disappointed to ever think that you could recapture that moment again, such like a love sick individual who was detached from all forms of reality that didn’t have him in it. Times were changing and not for the better, for everyone was on edge with what was to come and the tension was so thick you could cut into it with a knife and anticipation hung heavy over everyone, dreadfully awaiting an attack with baited breath and clenched fists in an attempt of bravery in the face of adversity.

Gone were the brief glimpses you’d get of him from the corner of your eyes, leaving you to believe whether or not you did in fact see him or just someone who wore similar clothing. You’d sometimes catch him in the act of waving at you when he was in a hurry or -when he had time to spare- even making himself welcome to the unoccupied seat besides you in the library, looking over your mountain of books with a raised brow and sarcasm upon his lips.

‘You planning to read them all in one go or?’ He’d say, making you scoff as a smile blossomed across your face as you looked into his eyes, finding that they were already on you.

‘Yeah because that’s a completely plausible thing for a person with a simple mind could accomplish.’ You replied with your own form of sarcasm as your smile widens at the sound of his laugh, gladly to have made such a heavenly sound emerge from his mouth. You two would remain in those same seats until it was time to part ways once again, bidding each other farewells as the days drew to a close and you’d leave for home when Viktor would stay overtime in his lab.

Now you don’t see him at all. Your head would perk up at the sound your mind has made you believe was the soft love tap of a cane against wooded floor, only to have your heart clench and mind belittling you when it wasn’t anywhere near Viktor coming into the library but someone else entirely. You were left with a table littered with books and an empty seat besides you, now cold and devoid of the man who’d always sit there and let his thoughts flow freely and bluntly out of his mouth, and yet you’d much prefer that over the deafening silence that greeted you for the past months as the realisation of how cold and miserable you were without Viktor to make your day complete.

You use to frequent the lab more so then your own office just to see Viktor in the past. So much so that Viktor had left a spare chair by his workbench for you to sit on, letting you linger as he worked and never uttering a single word as you were too entranced by the ways his fingers moved and how his facial expressions fluidly moved from one another, it almost like they were telling a silent story of his emotions of his successes and failures within the project. From the highs and lows, the triumphs of learning something new, to the challenges that left dark bags under his eyes from all the late nighters he’s been pulling to at least achieve something in the midst of all the chaos.

Now the warmth that once filled you as you entered the lab felt cold, like you were intruding on something you shouldn’t have. Your once place of refuge had become a place you didn’t recognise as you immediately noticed the lack of the chair you once sat on, it’s location wasn’t a concern of yours more so than the ache within your heart at the seemingly small act. However for such an act as small as removing a spare chair from a workbench you felt as though this was a sign that your presence was no longer a welcomed one; you had become a distraction and in the worse kind to Viktor, and thus your chair had been taken away, signifying that those warm days of human connection had long since overstayed it’s welcome.

‘Viktor?’ You called out but not once did he show signs of recognition towards your voice nor bothered to look up from his work that meant so much to him nowadays. You didn’t know which hurt more, the lack of response or the idea that you were nowhere as dear to his heart as he was to yours at all, however you still smiled through the ache within your chest in hopes that it was just a delayed response on his part.

Nothing. Viktor didn’t even make an attempt to speak to you and just continued being hunched over his workbench with no intention on stopping, acting as though you were merely just a breeze that passed him by and not a human being he was once close to, begging him to acknowledge you and acknowledge the history between the two of you.

‘How long have you been cooped up in here like a little hermit.’ You tried to attempt a joke that only felt awkward and painful when the Viktor didn’t make a sarcastic quip back towards you. He left you in silence once again as you felt your hope slowly start to die within your chest and your smile began to fade from your lips as your resolve began to waver. You swallows thickly as you tired not to let this get to you and instead believe that he couldn’t hear you, and so you walked closer to him until you rested a hand upon his shoulder, making him stop working for a moment before going back to what he was doing soon after.

‘How long has it been since you slept, eaten anything, or just get some fresh air?’ You asked with concern towards his health and how it seemed that he was driving himself down into the ground for academic validation for his work. ‘Why don’t you take a break and take some time away from-‘

‘Not everyone has the luxury of time on their hands.’ Viktor cuts you off but not in the way you’d hope. His words cut through you, making you flinch away from him from the bitter tone that came from him as though he burnt you. ‘They need help now and I won’t allow any further distractions to hinder me from doing so.’ He adds and it obviously felt very pointed towards you as if you were the problem he now faced and you couldn’t help but get a little upset over this.

‘And kill yourself in the process? Who’s going to help them when you’re dead Viktor because it’s sure as hell not me!’ You bit back as you moved back towards the door, finding no point in standing by his side if he was so willing to discard you like you were nothing in the pursuits of science. ‘I’m not going to stand here and watch you lose yourself to your work, I won’t do it.’ You add with certainty but it’s Viktor’s next words that really hurt you despite the softness of his voice, now was sharp as ice and just as piercing.

‘Then don’t bother darkening my door any longer than you already have.’

You stiffened up at this as you felt your heart tore itself in half at the unnecessary hostility thrown towards you as the rift between the two of you had finally made itself known in this moment. The closeness you once shared with Viktor was now an illusion you fell for so willingly, all with the hopes that something more would come from it one day, much like the hopeless romantic that you truly were. However in this moment it was revealed that none of that mattered to him, not as much as it did to you and just as you were about to leave the lab, you looked over at his back and said;

‘Goodbye Viktor. I promise to never be an inconvenience to you ever again since that’s what you wish for.’ And without needing to hear him, you walked out of the lab, shutting the door behind you as you walked down the hall as silent tears fell from your cheeks as you kissed goodbye the one good thing you had left to keep your head above water; however without it you could feel yourself slipping beneath the waves that had threatened to crash over you for a long, long time as you had lost your anchor and you have the angry to care what happens to you.

…

Everything that happened in a matter of seconds. Too fast for anyone to notice what was going on before it was too late and a wave of pain greeted you as you blacked out.

The council was attacked and all signs pointed towards Zaun as the perpetrators.

Viktor was lucky enough to have somehow miraculously survive with the help of the hexcore but you on the other hand were left in a coma from the explosion. All Viktor knew when he came through in his new body was the news that you had could’ve died had you been just a tiny bit closer to bear the brunt of the unforeseen attack. The doctors were overlooking your possibilities of awaking from the coma, they claim that chances of that happening were slim but they believed that you were strong enough to pull through it, not that any of this mattered to Viktor as for all he was aware was that even if you did awake he’d be the last person you wanted to ever see.

He was told that upon being rescued from the rubble you looked like you had already died with the amounts of deep gashes that littered across your face, he got told that you didn’t even look like you were breathing at all, but you looked oddly at peace with the outcome of such a tragedy; as though you were silently suffering inside your own head for a long time and this was you gladly accepting the fate bestowed upon you.

Viktor didn’t know what hurt more, the fact that you could’ve died, or the idea that you were more then willing to have died in the attack then wake in a reality where he had all but pushed you aside. He couldn’t blame you for not wanting anything to do with him anymore, not after trying so hard to get through to him in the past, only for him to retaliate with words that you didn’t deserve. You had every right to never allow him into your life ever again, Viktor didn’t feel he was deserving of a second chance with you, especially not after something as traumatic as almost dying.

Now upon retrospect it would’ve been morbidly poetic had he did die in the attack, his hand reaching towards your own but never truly touching, a reminder that he had severed that connection with you the moment more was demanded of him and of hextech; A once beloved and respected connection that’ll never mend for the damage was already done due to his own hubris.

You deserved more then him and Viktor knew this painfully well enough to continue to drive the wedge between the two of you, all in hopes that you too would see that you were better off in search of something new with someone else, and yet he couldn’t help but cling onto you for himself so selfishly as though he wasn’t the one who caused you pain in favour of staying within the lab to his own devices. Viktor knew he was being ridiculous and he would only be hurting you in the process with his indecision of whether to keep you close by his side, or as far away from him as possible.

Yet everything within him told him to at least visit you, just to be certain that you would be strong enough to emerge from the coma, but he couldn’t bring himself to do that despite how much he wished to see you recover much like you had been bedside for him when his health declined sharply. Viktor remembered the day clear as day as the concern within your eyes shone, and the grip you had on his hand tightened every so often with every inhale and exhale, you didn’t say a single word but you didn’t half to as viktor has taught himself to read you better then most. It was clear that you were afraid but didn’t have the heart to speak up on it, and now he was face with a similar situation.

You were the ache in his heart that he couldn’t be rid of, no matter how much change his body went through, not that he wanted to either and Viktor knew he was the ache within your heart. You two pained each other with your absences, comforted each other’s overthinking minds and gave each other the company you so needed. You needed each other but didn’t at the same time, it was a never ending game with yourself and Viktor as you didn’t know whether to get close to one another or keep the distance between you and pretend that you’re both not hurting when you were.

However Viktor may regret the words he had spoken to you, it doesn’t change fate in the slightest, he was with his commune in the Undercity and you were still in that coma you should’ve awoken from weeks ago. Yet now and then Viktor would find himself looking to his side where he would normally feel you, only to see nothing but thin air and close his eyes as he took a deep breath to compose himself. He regrets everything he said to you but they wouldn’t change the hurt you were both suffering from, Viktor wanted you by his side in that moment but knew he’s better off wishing for that in another life, a life where he chose you.

Now he’ll get to know how sweet that life would be like and the ache within the remains of his heart hurt just that little more, for you, the ache within his him that he couldn’t get rid of but needed all the same to remind himself that he was still the Viktor you once loved.

[velarisdusk]

When the Stars Bear Witness

Day 22: Cuckolding | Azriel x Reader x Cassian, Rhysand word count: 2.2k author’s note: i feel like his offer to feyre from the birchin was not to let az and cass join them, but just for her to enjoy them while he watched. i sincerely think rhys would not mind cucking every once in a while. also, unabashedly, this is hot i want this thank u ✦ . Kinktober Masterlist . ✦

The tension in the air was palpable, power thrumming beneath the surface of the room like an untamed current. Rhysand sat in a chair at the foot of the bed, his wrists pinned to the armrests by Azriel’s shadows, and his view fixed directly on you. He flexed his fingers, restless and restrained as he watched, his eyes never leaving your body. It was the way Cassian’s hand gripped your waist, the way Azriel’s lips grazed your skin, that made Rhysand’s throat tighten. The shadows brushed over him ever-so-lightly, as if mocking the loss of control, the shift in the room that left him on the outside looking in. 

But that was the agreement, wasn’t it? To watch. To wait. To want.

His gaze followed the curve of your spine, the way you arched against them, back bathed in the soft light of the room. You were caught between them, writhing beneath their hands, every shift of your body sending a fresh wave of heat through him.

Cassian was to your left, his broad hand gripping your hip possessively, guiding your movements as his fingers worked between your thighs, slow and tortuous. Rhysand’s breath hitched watching Azriel, pressed close to your right, littering your chest with hickeys, pulling a soft moan from you that sent a jolt of need through his gut. You melted under their touch, eyes fluttering closed, completely at their mercy. The whimper that escaped your lips as Cassian’s thumb brushed over your clit sent a flash of jealousy through Rhysand, his pulse quickening at the sight of you, flushed and desperate, but just out of his reach. Your pleasure wasn’t his to control tonight. 

“Look at him.” Cassian’s voice cut through the air, rich and smooth, amusement curling around every word as he glanced toward Rhysand. His fingers traced lazily over your back, drawing a shiver from you. “He’s fucking aching for you… and he can’t do a damn thing about it.”

Your eyes fluttered open just a little, catching your mate’s. The helpless hunger in his gaze sent a rush of heat through you, every inch of your body already alive under Cassian’s and Azriel’s touch. The way Rhys watched, pinned in place though he could certainly free himself if he wanted, had you squirming even more.

Azriel chuckled, his voice a low rumble against your skin. “You like that, don’t you? Knowing he’s sitting there, watching us take what he isn’t allowed to touch?” His words, combined with Cassian’s thumb pressing more firmly against your clit, made you cry out, a string of curses following as your body trembled between them. 

You didn’t answer with words, just a broken gasp as Azriel’s hand slid up to cup your breast, his fingers pinching your nipple hard enough to make your head fall back. Cassian tightened his grip on you, his fingers pushing deeper inside you, the wet sounds filling the room as your hips bucked against his hand.

Rhysand’s jaw clenched, frustration rolling off him in waves. His chest heaved with every shaky breath, eyes locked on the way your body moved, on the way you responded to them. 

Azriel glanced over his shoulder at Rhysand, his lips pulling into a smirk. “You’d kill to be where we are, wouldn’t you?” He teased, his hand dipping between your legs, replacing Cassian’s. His fingers immediately found that sensitive spot inside you, making your entire body tense and shudder. “But tonight, she’s ours.”

Cassian’s fingers gripped your chin, turning your face toward your mate, his lips ghosting over your ear as his free hand squeezed your breast. “Tell him,” he growled, his breath hot against your ear. “Tell him who you belong to tonight.”

Your voice came out as a breathless whisper, barely able to form the words. “Tonight, I’m yours, Cassian,” you turn to face Azriel. “Both of yours.”

Rhysand’s breath caught, a low groan slipping from him as he watched the way your body responded to them, to the way they explored you and toyed with you. He couldn’t look away — didn’t want to. His cock throbbed in his pants, the pressure nearly unbearable as he shifted in his seat, needing any kind of relief but finding none. 

Cassian’s hand fisted into your hair, pulling your head back so he could kiss you deeply, his tongue claiming your mouth as Azriel’s fingers pushed deeper inside you. You whimpered against his lips, body shaking with pleasure, completely at their mercy.

Rhysand’s violet eyes darkened with need — frustration, jealousy, and overwhelming arousal twisting inside him as he watched them take you apart. He was stuck on the outside, aching for you but unable to touch, to claim, to feel. And he hated how much he loved it. 

Azriel leaned in, his breath hot against your ear. “Don’t worry,” he murmured, his voice dark with promise. “We’ll make sure he sees every single inch of you come undone.”

You shivered, caught between the heat of Azriel’s words and the steady grip Cassian still held on your hip. The tension in the room crackled, thick and heady, as they exchanged a glance over you, some unspoken agreement passing between them. Without a word, they began to shift you.

Cassian’s hands guided you down, pushing you gently but firmly until you lay on your stomach. He slid behind you, trailing kisses down your back, and pulled your hips up so your ass was angled toward him. Azriel moved beneath you, positioning himself between your legs. Your knees trembled as they adjusted you, forcing you into place, your body now aligned perfectly for Rhysand’s view from the side — the best seat in the house.

He could see everything. The way your body was bent over, ass high, while Cassian loomed over you from behind, working his fingers one by one into your tight, untouched opening. And the way Azriel laid back beneath you, his cock brushing teasingly over your soaked cunt. His eyes flickered to Rhysand, his smirk widening as he teased his cock against your entrance, just barely pushing inside. “She’s perfect like this, isn’t she?” he drawled, his voice rich with amusement. “Look how well she takes it.”

Rhysand’s breath came hard and fast, his knuckles white as he gripped the arms of the chair, the wood groaning under him, but Azriel’s shadows held firm. “Let me–” his voice was thick with need, but Cassian cut him off with a dark, quiet laugh.

“No,” he growled, pushing into you slowly, the thick head of his cock stretching your ass, his grip on your hips tightening as your body adjusted to him. “You just sit there and watch. You know the rules, Rhys. You wanted this, didn’t you?”

Before he could answer, the room filled with yours and Azriel’s groans of pleasure, his cock finally sliding fully into you, the slick heat enveloping him as he filled you. His eyes fluttered closed, lips curling into a satisfied grin. “Fuck,” he breathed, his hands sliding up your sides, gripping your waist as he thrust into you, matching the slow rhythm Cassian set behind you. “Feels too good to share.”

Azriel’s words were like a slow caress as he rolled his hips against yours, each thrust driving you closer to the edge. Beneath the lazy heat of his gaze, you felt the weight of Rhys’s stare, heavy and simmering with frustration, desire, and something darker. Every inch of your skin tingled under the intensity.

Cassian let out a low, predatory growl from behind you, his hands gripping your hips so tightly it was sure to leave marks, dragging you back onto his cock with each powerful thrust. “Look at him,” Cassian ordered, his voice rough with lust, one hand slipping up your back to grab a fistful of your hair, tugging your head to the side so your gaze met Rhysand’s. “Look at how desperate your mate is. But he’s not the one pulling all these pretty sounds from you tonight, is he?”

Your response came in the form of a whimper between the moans you simply couldn’t contain, unable to tear your eyes away from Rhysand’s violet gaze, wide with hunger. His chest rose and fell, and his arms rested against the chair, muscles coiled but relaxed, shadows slipping over his skin like a mockery of restraint. He wasn’t bound by force but by choice. The deep yearning in his expression sent a thrill down your spine, making you clench tighter around Azriel’s and Cassian’s cocks. 

They both let out hisses as they felt your body react to the sight of your mate watching, Cassian’s eyes flicking toward Rhysand with a mocking smirk. “She’s never this tight for you, is she?” he purred, his voice low and taunting. “Not like she is for us. You can’t fuck her like this, can you?”

Rhysand’s jaw clenched hard, a low growl vibrating deep in his chest, but Azriel only chuckled darkly. “If you really wanted to stop this,” Azriel said, his tone colder, more calculated, “you could. You have the power, the strength. But you won’t.” He thrust hard into you, forcing another moan from your lips. “You’re going to sit there, Rhys, and watch us wreck her, because you know no one can do it like we can.”

Cassian laughed, low and rough, driving into you in tandem with Azriel, both of them burying themselves all the way into you at once. “He fucking loves it,” he said, his voice dripping with amusement. “Loves watching us stretch you, fill you in ways he can’t on his own.” His hand slid around you, fingers finding your clit, rubbing you at a steady pace. Your entire body felt like it was on fire, caught between the constant, relentless pace of their thrusts and the sharp, aching pleasure Cassian’s fingers teased out of you. “Tell him,” Cassian urged again, his grip tightening as he slammed into you, pushing you to the brink. “Tell him how good it feels to be fucked by us.”

A strangled moan escaped your throat as you tried to form words, your voice strained. “So good,” you gasped, the words spilling out in a breathless rush. “You fuck me so good, Cassian. Azriel. Better than anyone — better than…” You couldn’t finish, your mind fogging with pleasure, but the implication hung heavy in the air, a knife’s edge to Rhysand’s restraint. 

Azriel’s hand gripped your jaw, turning your head toward him, his lips brushing yours. “Better than Rhys?” he whispered, his voice a dark tease, goading you. His fingers dug into your skin just enough to make you gasp, your lips parting as his grip tightened on your cheeks. “Tell him.”

Your eyes fluttered, caught between the overwhelming sensations and the need to obey. “Better than Rhys,” you finally breathed, and the sound that tore from Rhysand’s throat was somewhere between a growl and a moan, his hands straining against the restraints as his entire body tensed, trembling with the effort not to break free. 

Cassian’s laughter was low, almost cruel, as he thrust deeper into you, his cock stretching your ass in ways that had your vision blurring with pleasure. “Good girl,” he praised, his voice a rough purr in your ear, before looking back at Rhysand. “You see that? She fucking loves it, Rhys. Loves how we take her. And you…” He grinned wickedly, slowing his thrusts just enough to torture you, making you squirm for him on Azriel’s cock. “You’re going to stay right there and watch while we ruin her.”

Azriel’s pace quickened beneath you, his hands gripping your waist as he slammed into your dripping cunt. “She’s close,” he growled, eyes dark with lust as he glanced at Rhysand. “You’re going to watch her come all over my cock, Rhys. Watch her come for us.”

The tension built inside you, a tight, desperate coil that had you teetering on the brink, every nerve in your body alive with sensation. “Please,” you whimpered, your voice a broken plea, your body trembling between them. Cassian’s hand tightened on your hip, his thrusts growing harder, faster, as he leaned over you, his breath hot on your neck. “Come for us,” he growled, his voice a command. “Let him watch you fall apart, knowing we’re the ones who made you come.”

Cassian’s fingers picked up the pace, rubbing your clit in tight, firm circles that sent you spiraling. “That’s it,” he murmured, his voice thick with pleasure. “Let go.”

And you did. The orgasm ripped through you, violent and overwhelming, your entire body shuddering as waves of pleasure crashed over you. You cried out, your fingers gripping the sheets beneath you as you came hard, your body clenching around their cocks, your mind going blank with the intensity of it. 

Rhysand’s groan echoed through the room, his eyes wild, chest heaving as he watched you come undone, doing nothing but bearing witness. Azriel and Cassian didn’t stop. They pushed you through the aftershocks, their relentless pace unyielding as they fucked you even harder, as if determined to wring every last bit of pleasure from you. 

✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦

Taglist <3

@starlightazriel @nvdax @halo-hanging @paleidiot @kismet27

@mellowmusings @gracielacie @d3ad-ins1de @loviseamms @inkedinshadows

@natasha153 @deathdoordoctor @spacebananabud @secretsicanthideanymore @edance2000

@lorosette @alykatv @honethatty12 @hellabizzy @serena-capella

@acoazlove @starswholistenanddreamsanswered @scorpioriesling @hannzoaks @confusedsezure

@elenapri0502 @anneas11 @mrsjna @lilah-asteria @anarchiii

@isnotwhatyourethinking @randomgurl2326 @wirdbeimaufhebengebunden @scarsandallaz @julesvanslutta

@90angiex @fourthwing4ever

[sweet-and-sour-bites]

https://www.tumblr.com/sweet-and-sour-bites/763257255073349632/can-i-have-burning-spice-cookie-x-reader-who-is-a?source=share

Different anon here....saw this and loved it and one line gave me an idea for a request....can you do burning spice x ticklish scardycat reader? Like reader was very scared of him at first and burning spice took em in as a 'you are so adorably pathetic, unable to even defend yourself because of your fear and you bend at tickling? Someone that weak needs to he protected...that's it, you're mine now' and then just throws them over their shoulder lmao...

Of course hun! Love this idea.

☁️Burning Spice Cookie x Scaredy cat Gn!Reader

The sandy wasteland stretches on and on before your eyes. The air is dry and makes your throat cry out for a fresh cup of sweet juice. Though you hate to cross such a deserted wasteland, you must. Sent by Dark Cacao himself to warn Golden Cheese Cookie of the arrival of the Beasts.

Your feet ache as you cross from the snowy ice land to the sandy plains to reach her. You dare not stop in fear of what could happen, though. Just as you begin to lose yourself to your thoughts, a loud noise startles you. Up ahead, you see a large cloud of dust and sand. Though scared and trembling from the thought of trouble that is just over yonder, you brace yourself and run towards it.

Reaching the area in a few minutes, you walk through a chasm of fallen rocks. Looking around, you notice the gashes and burn marks littering the ground and cliffs. Suddenly, something is flung just before you into the wall to your right. Stepping back, you brandish your sword at the new hole in the wall.

*Cough* *Cough* "Goodness me, what and utter brute." Your eyes widen as you see Golden Cheese Cookie herself stumble out of the hole.

"Your majesty!" You rush over to her and help her to her feet as best as you can. Though you only reach about waist height for her, you know it's better to have some support than none. She's looks down at you confused and worried.

"Young one, what are you doing here?! You shouldn't be here! You need to leave at once!" You shake your head.

"I am a messenger sent by Dark Cacao. He needed me to warn you of a Beast coming to claim your soul jam for himself." You saw her grimace.

"Unfortunately, it is too late. He is already here."

"So, you think I'm the thief, little cookie?" Your eyes widen at the sound of a deep and rough voice from above. Looking up, you see a large cookie that just screams danger. With a golden smirk, he leaps from his perch and drops down just aways away from you and Golden Cheese Cookie. The dust around him settles, and you find yourself staring at each other. Him, filled with curiosity and excitement. You, terrified and worried.

"You carry a sword, will you fight against me too?" He points the tip of his weapon at you, but Golden Cheese Cookie pushes you behind her.

"Don't you dare! She's but a messenger, not a soldier." She glares at the large cookie with a fierce look that could send you running home. For a moment, the Beast looks over at her the back at you before smirking and raising his weapon.

"She should've thought about that before coming here." Without a second to waste, he charges at the two of you. Golden Cheese Cookie pushes you away from the fight and parrys his attack.

"Run! Get out of here now! Warn Dark Cacao!" With that, you high tail it away from the fight in hopes of making back to your king. That Beast was right; you're no soldier. The sword you have is simply to deter others from attacking. You don't know how to fight.

The sounds of the battle draw further from you as you run. You'd say over twenty minutes have passed since you left, and you now find yourself in the ruins of an old palace. What can you say, you can't fight but you can sure run. Slowing down you take a breath and pull out a sheet of paper.

"Your Majesty, I find myself sending you this letter on behalf of Golden Cheese Cookie. She is currently fighting the Beast Cookie that is out for her soul jam. I am running from the fight in her orders. Please send immediate assistance to the Golden Cheese desert asap. With regards, (Y/n) Cookie."

With the letter written, you bring out a small blackberry bird and tie it to its foot. "Hurry, give this letter the his majesty Dark Cacao. Waste no time. Go!" At your words, the little bird flys off in a hurry. You sigh in exhaustion and slid against one of the old crumbled pillars.

"Oh little cookie~ Come out, come out wherever you are~"

You shoot up quickly and run over to a more hidden pile of rubble. How? How did here reach you so soon?! Shouldn't he be fighting Golden Cheese Cookie?! Unless......oh no. She must be badly hurt for him to be here without worrying about her. Oh, you hope the king will be here soon.

"Oh come now, no need to be scared. I won't hurt you. Much. Hahaha!" You close your eyes and cover your mouth to prevent any sound. Sliding down to the ground, you begin to shake in fear. Dammit! You know everyone else was busy in the kingdom, but why did they have to send you?! You can't fight!

You're too scared too.

All becomes silent, and with what little courage you have, you open your eyes. Oh fuck. You feel a shiver go down you spine as you see a large shadow block what light was on you. Slowly looking up you see the large beast stand above you, looking down at you with a sharp, golden grin. "Found you~"

"Ahhh!" Fear course through you as you dodge his attack. Without much haste, you run deeper into the ruins. You hear the loud steps of that brute not too far behind you. Risking it, you look behind you and see him gaining on you. That is until your world fumbles and you fall.

You feel a pain course through your leg as you hit the ground. You take a peak at it as you see a gaping would with jam running out. You let your head fall and curl in on yourself. "Why? Why me? Why was I sent here? I can't fight, I can't." You wallow in your self-pity as Buring Spice stalks towards you. Standing over you, he lets his eyes wonder over your form.

Normally, seeing a cookie wallow would bore or anger him. However, he must admit, you are quite the looker. Soft dough and a soft heart. You cower from him, which is odly...satisfying. He takes the end of his weapon and puts it under your chin, moving your head to look at him. You look up at the beast with tears in your eyes and fear in your heart. He smirks down at you and bends over.

"Mhm, how about a deal, scaredy cat?" You give a little nod, not trusting your voice. "You'll come with me as a sort of...pet or spoil of war, and I won't turn that so called queen to crumbs." Your eyes widen at his words. Either way, you're at his mercy, but hopefully, you can bide time for Golden Cheese Cookie and his majesty. At least then you can help in some way.

"I'll go with you." Your voice comes out just a little above a whisper. Cracking from the running, crying, and heat. He smirks and pulls you up, tossing you over his shoulder.

"Haha, wise choice, scaredy cat! Ha, I think I shall call you just that. After all, with how much you tremble and cower, it is but a fitting name." You don't say anything as you try to make resting on his shoulder like a sack of potatoes a little more comfortable. He begins to walk out of the ruins, and you feel yourself sawy to motion, causing you to feel a little sick. Stupid motion sickness. You really are a miserable fool. You can't fight, you're always scared, and now, motion sickness to top it all off.

Burning Spice notices this and stops walking. He pulls you from his shoulder and holds you with one arm. You look up at his with confusion. "This seems to be better. Don't want you throwing up your guts now, do we?" You nod, a little embarrassed, and the two of you continue on.

Good grief, what have you gotten yourself into. From a simple cowardly messenger to a Beast Cookies' pet. Damn, you feel as if your body is shot with how anxious you are. You can only hope Dark Cacao will save you in time. You do wonder though, what will become of you, as Buring Spice Cookies' little pet.

[everythingspokenfor]

Part 2

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You were in the middle of packing, taking photos off the walls and putting them away in boxes, piles of clothes littered on the floor based on whether you were taking them or donating.

"Didn't realise we weren't close enough, eh?" Bakugou said, arms crossed leaning against the wall of your room.

Startled you looked at him clutching the photos close to your chest."Knock at least Katsuki, you scared the shit out of me." You grumbled as you regained composure and turned back to the task at hand. Partially to get it done, mostly to avoid Bakugou's gaze while you had this unavoidable confrontation.

You should have told him you were moving out, it was a rational thing, you were friends infact best friends, had seen each other at worst, dealt with it too. Should have had an adult conversation about it. But what would have you said "Hey! Katsuki I am moving out because I am in love with you but you have a girlfriend and the sole thought of her makes me sick" yeah not a good argument or maybe evening worst you would just end up crying sobbing pathetically while pointing out you were there for him more but that's not how it works, you suppose. He deserves happiness, and you are glad he found it. You just wanted to find yours too.

"Haruki, your assistant, let it slip that you are moving", Bakugou snarled, nostrils flaring, fists tightening, tell-tale signs that he is not mad but disheartened.

"I was going to tell you", you defended, turning to face him.

"When? huh, when were you going to tell me?", He hissed "When everything was packed, and you had to bid farewell like some sort of formality?", He continued ,moving towards you, for the first time locking eyes and seeing the red-rimmed, swollen eyes your cheeks were sunken too. "What happened, peanut?", He questioned, pulling the photos from your hand and setting the to the side. "Did I do something? I'll fix it, fucks sake talk to me, tell what was it that made you run I'll fix it", He cupped your face and made you look at him.

"I don't think you can fix this one, Suki", you murmured, voice almost catching in your throat because you'll lose him, you'll lose his friendship. For a moment you wished you weren't in love with him, that you could be normal around him, could be a part of his life, let him be a part of yours. But, you had to fall in love with him, ruin whatever ever you had.

"This new apartment is closer to my agency, plus how long do we go about living here, Suki?", you said before woefully pulling yourself away from him, choosing to pack up remaining of things.

"You should have said something, I deserve to at least know, you know? I go to work and your assistant, fucking Haruki, is looking for couches for you.", He said bitterly,"He knew, he was informed, he was fucking involved, and I wasn't, aren't we close? is that fucker closer to you, huh tell me?" He gritted out.

"If you were any less busy with your fucking girlfriend, then maybe you would have helped me," you yelled, words almost getting clogged in your throat, anger finally taking over.

Both of you stare wide eyed at each other, truth finally out, you behaviour making sense to Bakugou, you can see the wheels turning in his head.

He moved closer to you, reaching out, but you pull away like it burns because if you were being honest it does, Bakugou winces at you withdrawal. Your anger, your distance, you silence making sense you heart finally bared open in front of him.

"If you can't tell me what I want to hear then you shouldn't say anything",you croaked, knowing that you are being selfish,"I want a confession Suki and not consolation", you finalized.

Bakugou looked at you before he left the room, perhaps you already knew his decision but that didn't make your heart hurt any less.

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