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#i mean how could i not do this for the good morning
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Good things come in small packages Part 2
Part 1 | Part 2
Pairing: Mini Han x fem reader
Synopsis: One year ago you purchased a ‘miniature companion’ named Hannie. He’s the size of a Ken doll but alive and horny. But something unexpected happens on your one year anniversary.
Word count: approx 7.4 k
A/n: SURPRISE!!! I know I said this was being released approx next Monday, but.... I wrote it quicker than I expected. I want to thank you for your patience with this installment. There was a point there where I almost didn't have it in me to write it. But your words of encouragement helped spur me on.
I hope that you enjoy part two of this fic. There's a lot of emotions, sickly sweet moments, and a surprise character features too.
CW below the cut
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C/W: unprotected p in v sex, oral sex, rough sex, angst, brief themes of depression, fear of suicide (just a fleeting thought), size kink?
Previously:
"Hannie?" You whisper, lowering the lamp, letting it drop to the floor.
"Why is everything so small? Wait. Why am I naked? Noona, have you been playing with me in my sleep?" He looks up at you confused and worried. "Noona, why are you looking at me like that?"
His eyes land on his pajamas, torn to shreds next to him. He picks up the scrap of fabric that was his pajama top, and his eyes widen. "Why are my clothes so tiny?"
"Hannie," you take in the man before you, naked and taking up most of the bed. "You're big."
------------
Han just stares at you blankly. Then realization hits him, causing him to spring out of bed and look around the room frantically.
"Hannie?" You say again. "Hannie, look at me." You take a step closer to him and he finally looks at you. It's as though your gaze anchors him and he appears to calm down somewhat. His eyes soften and he looks at you like he's looking at you for the very first time, just as you are with him.
You already know he has an incredible physique. Broad shoulders, slim waist, toned muscles. But standing before you right now he’s breathtaking. But you don't love him for his body. You love him for his heart.
Standing fully naked in front of you, he seems less real than when he was small. How can this be happening? It's impossible. Right?
"Noona?" His eyes drop to where your gaze has fallen. Right on his cock, still semi hard from his morning wood. It's the most delicious thing you've ever seen. So much bigger than you expected too. You can't help but imagine all the things you want to do with it. You have imagined it plenty over the past year. How you want him to fill you up, or make you choke on it. How it tastes. How it feels in your mouth.
"Hey!" he covers himself with his hands. "I'm going through a crisis and you're staring at my dick!" He exasperates. He narrows his eyes. "Oh my God, Noona? You know what this means?" His eyes light up with excitement.
"I do, Han. Trust me, I know. But first we need to figure out what is going on. Why this has happened." You take another step towards him, closing the distance, and with shaking hands you reach out and touch his chest. You feel his heart pounding and it makes your heart beat faster too.
He's real.
"Do you think my wish has finally come true?" he whispers. "I wish it every night before I fall asleep. That I'd wake up and be human sized."
You look up to meet his gaze. His gorgeous big brown eyes. "I wish it every night too. It's just... this doesn’t make any sense.” You pause. “Wait. The manual. Maybe it says something in that?”
Without giving him any warning, you snap into action and disappear into your walk-in wardrobe, returning with a pair of sweatpants and an oversized tee.
"Here. Put these on. I can't be getting distracted." You say and hurry out of the bedroom.
----------
"I thought you said you'd studied the manual?" Han says suspiciously whilst chewing on the scrambled eggs and toast you quickly cooked for him. You were quite happy to forgo your breakfast so you could search for answers, but his stomach rumbled so loudly you couldn’t ignore it.
While he scoffs down his breakfast, and you're still in your pajamas, you pore over the instruction manual spread open on the dining table, looking for any information that might help.
"Well... I kind of only read about how to keep you alive. You know, like how often I needed to feed and water you." you reply casually. Inside, you wish you had read the rest of the information. Maybe you would have had a heads up about this and you could have prepared yourself?
"Do you think I'm going to be like this permanently? Like the first year was a test of your commitment or something? Maybe I could learn guitar? Or cook? Or-"
"Okay. I've got something." You interrupt. "It says here: At twelve months of ownership, your companion will transform into typical human size-"
Han's eyes light up excitedly. "Wait! So this means?"
You hold up your hand to hush him. "There's more." You say. "He will remain in this state for 48 hours, before returning to his original size."
“Oh.” Han’s fork clatters on his plate. You look up at him as his expression changes from excited and hopeful, to absolutely crestfallen and deflated.
"I'm so sorry, Hannie." you whisper. You know how badly he wants to be big. You watch as he swallows a lump in his throat, and without a word, he stands and walks into the kitchen to look out of the window above the sink.
————
Forty eight hours? So It's not permanent? What kind of fucking idiot is he to think he'd ever be able to be a human? He tries to fight back the tears as he looks out of the window.
It's a beautiful, sunny morning, and usually on a day like this he'd climb up onto the windowsill and watch the world. There's a little strip of shops across the street that he especially loves to watch. His favorite is the flower shop. Observing the customers going in and out buying flowers and bouquets for loved ones. They’re such pretty colors too, the flowers. He’d love to be able to buy flowers for you.
A lady about your age works there, and sometimes another man is there too. Han doesn’t see him there often, but knows he’s someone special the way the shop owner and him look at and hold each other. Maybe he travels for work? He's often wondered as he sits on the windowsill.
He's broken from his thoughts when he feels your arms wrap around his waist and you lean against his back. His eyes close softly, and his body relaxes as he savors the feeling of being embraced in this way for the first time.
"Hannie, I know we don't have long, but maybe if we see it as a gift?"
He turns in your arms to face you, and wraps his own arms around you. You feel so good like this. In his arms. Holding so much of you in one go. Feeling your entire body pressed against his. It's better than he ever imagined.
"You're right." He says finally. "We can't waste a minute of this precious time. There's so much I have to do to you." His dick twitches when he sees your cheeks flush. He knows you're not shy, but if you feel anything like he does right now, then you’d have to be trembling on the inside.
His hand slides up to hold your jaw tenderly as he brings his lips close to yours. Sure he's kissed you, parts of your lips - both sets even, and other parts of your skin. But your lips in their entirety? He feels so scared, so nervous. What if he's a shit kisser?
"Stop thinking, Han Jisung." You say and connect your lips to his.
His lips fit yours perfectly and he melts into them with a moan. He kisses you slowly and carefully and a warmth spreads throughout his body. He hardens immediately when he feels your tongue slip into his mouth to find his. Your tongue, the one that’s licked his entire torso in one sweep, is currently inside his mouth. 
He allows his hands to wander lower to cup your ass. He loves your ass and often stares at it when you're doing housework in your tight little exercise shorts. Another moan escapes him when he pulls you even closer against his body. Touching so many parts of you all at once has him feeling overwhelmed in the best way possible. What will it be like when he’s inside you as well? He has to know.
He lowers his hands a little more to lift you up and you wrap your legs around his. Then he’s carrying you - actually carrying you - to your bedroom.
Your room is still filled with the warm sunlight, and Han is glad because he’ll be able to see absolutely everything. He lays you gently on the bed and kisses you deeply, then sits up to kneel between your parted legs.
“I think these need to come off.” He announces, flicking the waistband of your pajama shorts.
You smirk. “You do, huh?”
“Yes. We need to be naked.” He starts tugging off your clothes, then his own.
You look stunning beneath him, and you feel the same way about him. The sunlight hits his honey skin perfectly and you feel a surge of love for the man above you.
This is actually happening, is the thought going through both your heads.
Han gulps as he drinks you in with his eyes. Where to begin? He decides to start with your breasts. Holding them in his hands, massaging them. He loves the pretty noises you’re making as he kneads them. He leans over to take a nipple in his mouth, flicking the tiny pebbled nub that he normally has to stretch his mouth around. It goes straight to his dick and he can’t help but grind his cock against your core. This is too much already. He sits back up between your legs to try and regain his composure. He doesn’t want the first time he has intercourse to be over before it begins. To bide some time, he slowly runs his hands down your stomach and massages the tops of your thighs while his eyes lock onto your pussy. Home.
His favorite thing in the world is to eat you out, and he’s excited to taste you. Firstly, though, he is dying to explore you with his fingers. He drags his thumbs through your folds. “Wet for me as usual, Noona.” He states, glancing up to see your flushed cheeks. He chuckles to himself knowing how flustered he’s making you.
“Hannie…always soaked for you.” You say with a breathlessness to your voice. 
He rubs circles on your clit with his thumb whilst using his other hand to spread you wide. 
“I need your fingers inside me, Hannie.” you wiggle your hips to give him the hint.
“Like this?” He asks innocently as he slips two fingers into you. You moan in relief, making him smirk again.You’re so tight just around his fingers that he can’t imagine how you are going to fit his cock. He partially withdraws his fingers then pushes them back into your warm, wet, cunt. He repeats this a few times, your moans and ‘yes’s urging him to go a little harder, a little deeper. He remembers watching you finger fuck yourself and that there’s a spot inside you that when you stimulate it makes you come. He needs to try it. 
He angles his fingers a little differently and fucks you with his hand. The response is immediate. Your pussy begins to make those lewd, but arousing sounds, that he has heard when you’ve made yourself cum on your dildo. Your back arches off the bed and your thighs start to tremble. He knows the signs of you having an orgasm. He’s made you come so many times. But not like this. He leans over you to slide his tongue into your mouth, capturing the moans from your orgasm while his fingers work you through it until you’ve settled back to earth. Stunning. Erotic. Perfect. That’s what you are to him right now.
Now he can eat you out. Lick up all that arousal leaking from your delectable pussy. He nestles between your legs, his agonizingly hard cock squashed between his stomach and the mattress. He knows it’s leaking all over your quilt.
Firmly holding your thighs apart, he licks a long stripe from your vagina to clit. You taste perfect. He is careful not to go too hard or too rough. When he’s tiny he needs to use all his energy and strength to get you off, but right now even the most delicate of licks or suckles has you whimpering for him.
He spits on your clit and then sucks it off. Then moves lower to slip his tongue inside you. He has to hold you still as another orgasm starts to build for you. He loves making you feel this way.
He needs to make you come again, so he slips a finger into your pussy while he laps at your clit. He feels you come on his face, shaking, quivering, covering him in your juices. Yep. Still his favorite thing to do.
He removes himself from between your legs to hover over you to take you in an urgent kiss, smearing your arousal all over your lips. His dick throbs.
“Hannie,” you pull away from the kiss. “I really need you inside me. I need it so much it hurts.” You look up at him with desperate eyes.
“Me too, Noona.” He gulps. He’s so fucking scared and hopes you don’t notice.
“Are you nervous?” You reach up and stroke his cheek. 
Of course you noticed it. You always know how he feels. He nods. “Yeah. I am actually. I am a virgin you know?” He chuckles awkwardly, like you didn’t know he’d never actually fucked before.
You wrap your arms around the back of his neck and pull him close. “It’s okay. I’ve got you. Just let it slip in. Dicks usually find a way into a pussy.” You whisper in his ear.
He trusts you and grinds the length of his cock against your slipper pussy. It’s already beyond incredible feeling your soft skin against his obscenely hard cock. You both moan equally in pleasure and the frustration of needing more, so he shifts his hips to allow the tip of his cock to prod at you. 
“Yes!” You cry out against his ear. “Fuck…Hannie…need you. It’s so close…” 
All it takes is a slight adjustment of the angle of his hips and he feels the tip slip inside you. 
“Please…hurry.” You sob. “I love you so much, Hannie.”
“I love you too, Noona.” he says with a shaky breath, and then he’s inside you. All the way to the hilt. You both moan in relief. 
“You’re so tight.” he declares, his eyes rolling back into his head. He’s not going to last even a thrust. It’s already too good. But he begins to move anyway, eventually finding a slow, deep rhythm.
He was wrong. This is his most favorite thing to do. Be buried in your pussy, with your arms and legs wrapped around him as you moan his name over and over. Definitely his favorite.
“Faster…please… harder…oh Hannie…fuck.” You claw at his back trying to pull him even deeper. He obliges, picking up the pace, fucking you harder. He kneels between your legs again so he can see all of you. The sight is erotic. Seeing all of you at once, with your legs folded and pushed up high and wide. Your breasts bouncing with every thrust. And the expression on your face as you look down at where you’re connected almost makes him fill you right then and there.
“I’m coming, Hannie… I’m…don’t stop! Come with me. Come inside me!” You’re already trembling beneath him, and there’s no way in hell he’d be able to stop himself coming inside you even if he wanted to. He’s about to burst. Not just his cock, but his heart too. He loves you too much. He takes his thumb back to your clit and focuses on bringing you over the edge. He feels your walls squeeze tight around him like a vice, and it sends him over as well. With a few last shaky thrusts, he releases himself inside of you with a deep moan.
“Noona… Fuck…” he pants and collapses on top of you. “That was the best feeling in the whole world. I don’t know how anyone gets anything done when they could be doing that!” 
—-----------
The day passes far too quickly as you fill the rest of the day with lovemaking, food, drinks, and even more lovemaking. You both don't want to miss a single moment of each other. Night comes too quickly, and despite trying your best to stay awake, sleep eventually takes you both as you lay in his arms.
-----------
The sun streams through the window waking you from your sleep. You feel Han's arm laying heavy across your waist. It wasn't a dream. Your eyes snap open to find him fast asleep, mouth open, and still very much human size.
You watch him until he finally stirs and opens his eyes. "Am I still big? Are we still naked?" He asks sleepily.
You grin in response. "Yes. You're still big. And we’re still naked. " You lean down and kiss his cheek.
"So we can have more sex today?" he adds, rubbing his eyes.
"Anything you want, my love." You say and let your hand wander down to rest on his erect cock. Flicking the sheet off of him, you begin to kiss your way down his body, savoring every inch of his skin, ensuring you remember this moment forever. You pause when you reach his cock, admiring the way it looks. Fucking perfect. Mouthwatering. You waste no time taking him in your hand and bringing your tongue to the underside of his shaft. 
He releases a sharp breath. “Fuck, Noona. Please…are you gonna suck me off? Please suck my cock, Noona.” he begs, lifting his head and looking down at you. You give him a sly look and swirl your tongue around the tip, and he throws his head back down onto the pillow, surrendering to you and your plans.
You take your time teasing him, alternating between kitten licks to the tip, to long languid strokes of your tongue along the shaft. His breathless pants turn to whimpers, then finally a deep, relieving groan as you sink your mouth over him. You take as much of him into your throat as you possibly can, and even though your eyes start to water, you take him even deeper.
“Baby, Noona…This is…your mouth… How can you even breathe right now?” He can barely get the words out. “So good… ngh…s’good.” he squeezes his eyes closed trying his hardest not to thrust into you. His hands thread through your hair and rest on the back of your head. You hope he pushes you down further so you take absolutely everything, and when he does, you feel your cunt tighten and your arousal leaking between your legs. 
Your lips are pressed to his pelvis and he isn’t letting you go. You are finding it hard to breathe, but you don’t care. You want more. You feel him getting close when his cock hardens even more and he starts thrusting into your throat. Yes. This is what you need. 
Han gets noisier as he approaches his climax, then you feel it. The familiar taste of his hot cum hits the back of your throat. He cries out then stills, releasing his hands from your head and relaxing into the bed.
As usual, you swallow every last drop. There is so much more compared to normal, the fluid coating the back of your mouth, then you make your way up to kiss his lips. 
Han grins at you with hooded eyes. “Fuck, Noona! That was so fucking goog.”
“You don’t know how many times I’ve pictured doing that for you, Hannie.” You smile and curl up to his side.
“Noona?” he says, stroking your arm.
“Mmm. Yes my love?” you hum.
“Do you think…after we fuck again, we can go out? There’s something I want to do.”
You turn your head to gaze at him. “Of course. Anything you want, my love.” you say again, but this time with a curious tone.
-----------
"Are you sure I don’t look weird?" Han isn't convinced that the sweatpants and tee you have given him are unisex.
"You're fine, I promise. Just trust me?" You reply, locking your front door.  You take his hand in yours and begin to up your front path. As you reach the sidewalk, he begins to have second thoughts. Sure he's been out of the house with you before. In your handbag, hidden away. Safe. Unseen. Maybe this isn't a good idea after all, he thinks to himself. Maybe he shouldn't have such lofty ideas? But he's not going to have another opportunity to do this. So he has to be brave.
“”What would you like to do, Hannie?” 
“There’s something I’ve thought about doing for a while now. Buy you flowers.” He gestures to the flower shop across from your home. 
Your eyes light up and a smile washes over your features. “I’d absolutely love that!” You squeeze his hand and look up at him. “I love you Hannie.” You say and kiss him on the lips.
“Noona, y-you can’t do that!” He stutters.
“Do what, sweetie?” You tease, and kiss him again. This time a little longer.
He pushes you away gently. “You’re getting me hard.” He whispers sternly and looks around to make sure no one can notice.
“Okay, Han. No public display of affection. Got it.” You pinch his chubby cheek.
The flower shop isn't very big, but it manages to accommodate so many flowers and bouquets that fill every corner and surface. Han takes in the floral scents, and the vibrancy of the colors, and smiles when his eyes land on what he's looking for.
"Can I help you with anything?" the shop owner asks cheerfully.
"Yes, can I please have the bouquet of purple tulips?" he says proudly.
The owner, who's name tag says 'Jules', takes the bouquet back to the counter to ring up the price. "That will be $60."
That's right. He has no money. He closes his eyes for a moment, berating himself. Of course he can't pay. He has no bank account. No identification. He's not a citizen of... anywhere really. He's an alien.
"That's okay, I've got it. He forgot his wallet today." You step in from out of nowhere and take care of paying for the flowers.
Ashamed by his inadequacy, Han steps away from the counter, and busies himself by looking at the corner with some potted houseplants. He quite likes the houseplants you own, often sitting underneath the leaves pretending to be somewhere outdoors. He chuckles to himself at how silly that sounds when movement behind one of the pot plants catches his eye.
Intrigued, he crouches down and ever so slowly nudges one of the plants to the side. His eyes widen and he almost stumbles backward when he sees a little man, the size of a Ken doll, looking up at him.
The same man that he’s seen kissing and holding Jules the shop owner multiple times.
Han blinks, not believing what he is seeing, but when he opens his eyes the little man is gone. Where did he go? Did he imagine it? He starts shifting plant pots around, desperately trying to find him.
"Hannie. I'm done now." you call to him from the shop entrance.
----------
"Hannie, what's wrong?" You ask as you both step outside onto the sidewalk. "Is it about paying for these?" You hold up the tulips.
"No, Noona. It's not that." He turns to look back at the shop.
"Han? You look like you've seen a ghost. Are you okay? Are you feeling okay?" You press your hand to his forehead. Sweaty and warm. Is he getting sick?
"I'm fine. Just... the forty eight hours are coming to an end tonight." He frowns.
You drop your head. You have been trying your best not to think about it. Today was so perfect, spending time with Han like a proper couple. It felt so heartwarming watching him with his big, curious eyes as he interacted with his surroundings.
You take a deep breath, inhaling the scent of the flowers. "What made you choose these?" you ask him curiously.
"Well," He starts, as you begin to walk back towards your home. "From what I read on the internet they are a symbol of perfect love." He smiles sheepishly. "It also said that they symbolize rebirth, as well as being known to help us let go of the past and embrace the future with renewed optimism and hope." he adds, proud to have remembered the details he'd read.
"I think that sounds perfect." You smile warmly and kiss him on the cheek.
---------------
Dinner is a quiet affair. The quietest it’s ever been. Usually at dinner time you share your day with each other, listening intently, offering advice or support, or whatever each of you needed that night. Tonight you’re both thinking about the same thing. That your time together like this is coming to an end. Neither of you want to talk about the elephant in the room, so you both stay silent. 
After a while you see Han set his knife and fork on his plate and stand up, walking around to your side of the table. You look up at him and he offers his hand out to you. Wordlessy, you take it and let him lead you to your bedroom.
He’s not gentle as he pushes you down onto the mattress and practically rips your clothes off before climbing on top of you and taking you in a rough, heated kiss. He shoves his tongue past your lips and you thread your fingers through his hair to pull him into an even deeper, even more feral kiss. He pulls away only to remove his own garments, then he forces your legs apart so he can line his cock up to your entrance. 
Without any preparation, or warning, he pushes the entire length of his cock into you in one go. You cry out at the intrusion, but part your legs further. You need him inside you, to consume you.
He’s careless with his thrusts, and his hands grope and squeeze, bruising your flesh. There’s a look of anger and resentment in his eyes. You know it’s not because of you, but at this whole situation. It feels so unfair to have a glimpse of how life could be, and know that it’s never going to be like this again. You love Hannie no matter what. But this feels so good too. Why? Why let you experience this, only to have torn away so quickly?
“Are you gonna remember me like this forever, Noona? How full I make you? How deep inside you I am? How hard I can fuck you?” He growls. “Tell me. Tell me you’ll never forget it. Cos I’m never going to forget how your pussy feels around me. Squeezing me tight. Tell me I’m your favorite. Tell me I feel better than anyone before me.” 
Han’s words are aggressive, and so is the way he’s fucking you. But his voice is full of heartbreak and angst. You want him to give you everything. His sadness, his anger, you want him to take it out on you. 
He thrusts his hips even harder against your body, and his cock slams into your cervix, causing you to cry out his name.
“Hannie!” You choke. He doesn’t slow down or go easy on you. You can barely breathe. 
“Say it… please…Tell me your mine.” he sobs, but he doesn’t slow down.
“I’m yours, Hannie…forever.” you whimper.
He leans down over you, caging you underneath him. “Come for me. Come on my cock.” He growls, his hot breath against your ear. “I wanna feel your pussy choke me one last time.”
It’s too much and you come hard around him, sobbing against his shoulder.
“That’s it…Yes…Fuck! I’m coming too!” He grunts as he thrusts his hips a few more times and empties himself inside you.
You stay like this for a while. Breathless and sweating. Eventually, he lifts his head and looks down on you. “Did I hurt you?” He asks with a concerned expression.
You shake your head. “It was passionate. I needed you to fuck me like that.” You sigh. He closes his eyes softly in relief, then withdraws his softened cock from you. 
Neither of you move to clean up, or even get a drink, or even say another word. You simply lay in the comfort of each other’s arms as though the world was about to end.
---------
You fall asleep first, but Han can't sleep. He doesn't want to sleep. So he watches you sleep instead. He cups your cheek. He needs to burn the image of this into his brain, for tomorrow his hand will barely be able to wrap around your pinky finger. These past forty eight hours were a dream come true, but he’s not sure how he’ll get over it either. 
-------------
You wake to find your bed empty. "Han?" You call out and search the bed, lifting the blankets. Sometimes he ends up tangled in them, but he isn't there.
You hop out of bed, slip on your robe and head out into the kitchen. You find him sitting on the windowsill above the sink. Small as ever. You feel a sadness in your chest and bite your lip as you approach him. "Hannie?" You say softly, leaning your arms on the counter next to the sink so your face is close to him.
"I'm okay Noona." he sighs, but doesn't turn to face you.
"You want me to fix you some breakfast before I go to work?" You ask hopefully, but he shakes his head.
The usual conversation that you have when you get ready for work is replaced with a heavy, awkward silence.
"You know, Hannie, you are perfect to me no matter what. Your personality, your heart - it’s bigger than that of any man in the world.” You say as you turn to leave the kitchen and head out the front door for work.
--------------
Han hasn’t left the windowsill in days. He hasn’t washed, he's barely eaten. The spark you love so much in him has dimmed, and you’re frightened that it won't come back. It's not like you can get him therapy. No one knows about him. No one can know about him.
Every day you leave for work not knowing what you'll find when you return home. What if he’s left? What if he's-" No you won't let yourself even go there.
Those forty eight hours of him being big was not worth it, and if you could take it back and go back to how things were before, you'd do it in a heartbeat. You just want your Hannie back.
--------------
Han knows you love him. But he can't help but feel depressed. He feels worse now than he has ever felt in his entire, albeit short, life. It's like him becoming big was some sick, cruel joke. Like it was to taunt him. To show him how good it could really be, how good it could really feel, to be a human, just to snatch it away from him.
It isn't just depression that's consuming him. It's an obsession with the flower shop and that little man he had seen that day.
For ten days now he’s stared at the shop hoping to catch a glimpse of...something... anything that might give him answers or closure. They know something. He can feel it.
Then finally it happens. Han hurries to a kneeling position, face pressed against the glass to catch a better look.
The man is back. As a human sized man. Han guesses he's seen this man maybe four times over as many months. He stands in the doorway waving to a customer before going back into the shop. It definitely looks like the little guy he saw standing by the pot plant.
You probably imagined it. You were probably over excited from the sex with Noona. Can sex make you hallucinate? Han isn't sure of anything anymore. Except that the miniature man was either imaginary, or, he has the answers Han's looking for.
-------------------
You leave work early and pick up a cheesecake. Han hasn’t eaten in days and you hope his favorite dessert might perk him up a little bit, even if it’s just a sugar rush.
You open your front door kicking your shoes off, and make your way upstairs to your main living area. The house is eerily quiet, even with a depressed Han it's too quiet. Something is off. Something is wrong.
“Hannie?” You call out. No answer. You place the cheesecake box on the counter. He’s not on his windowsill. Maybe he’s asleep somewhere? You check your bedroom next. He isn’t there either. You search every room, calling out his name.
Nothing.
He’s gone. He’s actually gone! Why? Why would he leave? Where would he go? What if he’s hurt? What if he’s - you gulp. You start to panic and begin to check everywhere again. Maybe he fell into a drawer? Maybe he’s stuck somewhere?
Again, nothing.
He really was gone.
—-----------
Han has never ventured out of the house by himself before. Well this month has been full of firsts, he thinks. Why not climb down the stairs and sneak out of a slightly ajar window?
He jumps down from the window sill and tumbles into the garden, surprisingly unscathed. He is on a mission and nothing is going to stop him.
Determination takes over any fear of being eaten by the neighbors cat, or being runover by a car, as he carefully treks across the road to the flower shop.
He hasn't even planned what he’s going to say. What if he's mistaken and the owner faints? What if she kills him? Or kidnaps him? Tortures him? No. He shakes his head. The lady was really nice the other day. People love to go to her shop. It'll be fine.
By the time Han reaches the threshold he is hot, sweaty and very thirsty. He looks up to looming doorway and swallows hard. Here goes nothing.
He slips inside, carefully seeking the cover of a nearby flower pot. The shop looks gigantic compared to last time he was there.
He notices something that he missed the last time. That the entire shop is set up suspiciously accessible for him. Like it was made for someone his size. Strings from buntings and signs dangle in such a way that Han would be able to reach just about any shelf he wished. Some shelves look to have mini rope ladders, and there seems to be plenty of places to hide and watch customers, or your Noona.
He quickly climbs up one of the rope ladders where he can get a better view of the sales counter. Jules is there finishing serving a customer. But where is the man?
Han doesn’t have to wait for long. The man emerges from a back storeroom with a gift bag for the customer.
“Oh Minho! You’re back in town!” The customer exclaims in a high pitch voice. “How was your work trip?” She gives this Minho a kiss on the cheek.
“Adventurous as usual.” He winks at her.
“Well it’s good to see you.” She takes her flowers and gift bag, smiling as she leaves the shop.
“Take care Mrs Maple!” Minho waves after her then turns to Jules. “Finally, I’ve got you alone, kitten.” He smirks and closes the gap between them. “Maybe we could close up for lunch? Head back into the storeroom?” He kisses her neck.
“You’re always so horny, Minho.” She teases. “Don’t think I don’t know you masturbate behind the flower pot while I work.”
Wait! What? Han’s eyes almost pop out of his head and he stumbles knocking an ornamental garden gnome off the shelf.
Jules and Minho’s eyes land on the smashed gnome. Then they lift their gaze, eyes landing straight on Han.
Fuck! He freezes to the spot.
The pair look confused and make their way over to where Han is standing pretending to be gnome himself, and crouch down so they are eye level with him.
“It’s the customer from the other day.” Jules remarks. “He didn’t have any money.” She adds.
Han crosses his arm and pouts.
“He’s the one I told you about. The one that saw me on the shelf.” Minho adds.
“Excuse me?” Han interrupts. “I was hoping you could help me. You see, I live across the street with my Noona. She was the woman I was with when I came in the other day. And…anyway… I sit in the window sill and watch the flower shop. Not in a creepy way.” He is sure to add. “And I’ve seen him…Minho, or whatever your name is,” he points to the man “a few times… Then when I came in, he… he was small.”
“And you were big.” Minhos’s eyes glisten and he rubs his chin deviously. “And now you’re small!”
“Exactly! And I need to know… are you one of those miniature companions like me? And if so, why do you keep getting big? And… and is it the same for all of us? Is it different depending on the batch? Do some of us get big and others don’t?” Han’s out of breath by the time he’s finished.
“What’s your name?” Jules asks kindly.
“Han.” He replies and plops down, crossing his legs.
“Han?” She repeats thoughtfully.
“Do you recognise the name, babe?” Minho enquires.
Jules nods. “Yes. I believe he was also part of the range I purchased you from. The Skz range. I don’t think he was ready yet. How long have you been with your owner?”
“Just on a year.” He replies.
Jules and Minho exchange looks, then turn back to Han.
“Well, Han, buddy,” he says. “I think we might be able to answer your questions.”
—-----------
Eventually, after tearing your house apart in the hopes to find Han and failing, you flop yourself on your couch feeling empty and numb. You don’t even notice that your doorbell is ringing, but then a loud knock on the door makes you almost jump out of your skin.
“Yeah okay, I’m coming!” You call out as you head downstairs. With a sigh, you open the front door to find the woman who owns the flower shop across the street, and a man who you’ve seen a few times around the place, standing there. The woman holds a basket in her hands, and the man holds an amused look on his face.
Great. You’re not in the mood for interaction.
The woman’s eyes widen when she sees your tear streaked face.
“Uh, sorry to bother you. I’m Jules. From the flower shop across the street.” She smiles awkwardly. “And this is my, um, partner, Minho.” She gestures to the man next to her.
You continue to stand there, saying nothing.
Jules coughs, clearing her throat. “We’ve brought your Hannie home.” She declares.
“Noona!” Han’s head pops out of the basket.
Your hand comes up to cover your mouth. “Why do you have my Han?” You choke. Your eyes dart from Jules to Minho, confused and scared. Han is supposed to be a secret. You can’t have outsiders knowing about him.
“I went to them, Noona. They have something to tell you! Can’t you let us inside already?” He whines.
A whining Han is a good sign. You nod and usher them inside.
————-
You’re back on your couch, this time with Jules and Minho on the couch across from you, and your little Hannie on the cushion next to you. You’re relieved he’s back, but also so mad at his reckless behavior. He could’ve gotten himself killed. He and Minho are enjoying a piece of cheesecake, like this is some normal afternoon gathering of friends.
“So you have something to tell me?” You say looking to Jules.
“We do. You see, Han came to us because he saw my miniature companion in the flower shop the day you both came in.” She starts.
Your eyes widen. “You know about them? You’ve got one?”
Jules nods. “Yes. Minho here is my companion.”
“Hi.” He waves.
“He’s your companion?” You arch an eyebrow.
“Yes, he’s got his monthly grown up pants on at the moment, but most of the time he’s small like Han.” She nods her head towards Han.
You shake your head in disbelief. “One minute Han is doll sized, then suddenly out of nowhere he’s big.”
“She really didn’t read the manual, hey Han?” Minho chuckles.
“Then I find out there’s another tiny man running around across the street?” You continue, ignoring Minho’s remark.
“Hey, I’m far from tiny!” Minho turns to you with a deadly glare.
“Calm down sweetie.” Jules pats his thigh. “He’s not really cold and cynical.” She reassures you.
“He’s cocky isn’t he?” You say lightheartedly to Jules but your eyes are firmly on Minho. “You know you were able to read their traits on the website and select accordingly?” You say jokingly.
“That’s why she chose me. For my cock-iness.” Minho leans back into the couch.
“He was the only one who was cat friendly. I have three cats, you see.” Jules playfully punches Minho in the arm.
“Hah! You love my cock-y personality.”
“I do.” Jules admits and leans against him.
The pair are fascinating, but you need to know more. “What did you mean by monthly grown up pants?” You ask.
“Once a month I grow into the size of a human for two days.” Minho shares. “It’s a fault in the Skz manufacturing process.”
“You didn’t receive the recall email from the company?” Jules turns back to you surprised.
You shake your head.
“There was a form in the back of...the manual...that you could send in so you’d receive any important information. Like recalls and such.”
“Noona only read up to the part where it says I can ejaculate.” Han pipes up, his mouth full of food.
“Hannie! Don’t, you’re embarrassing me. Sorry, he hasn’t been socialized.” You say bashfully.
“I think these two will become best friends.” Jules laughs looking at the two men. “Han did say this whole human size situation came as a surprise to you both.”
“I feel so stupid. I didn’t read the whole manual.  I’m such an irresponsible companion owner.” 
“There was a recall on the Skz range because they were only supposed to grow big the once, not once every month. Purchasers were given the option to return the companion if they chose.”
“And she chose to keep me.” Minho adds.
“Would you have sent me back, Noona? If you’d known about the recall?” Han looks up at you with his boba eyes.
“Of course not. I love you. I just wish I’d known all this so we could have been prepared. Looked forward to it, even.”
“It’s okay, Noona. I think it has worked out for the best this way.” He looks at each of you. “I’ve finally got friends!” He says gleefully.
Jules and Minho leave shortly after, to have some alone time before his “grown up pants become too big”.
Han is exhausted from his adventure, and just wants to snuggle up on your chest and watch anime. Neither of you say much. There's no point in being angry at him for venturing out alone, and you're just happy to have him back in one piece.
Neither of you are really watching the anime either. Instead you're both smiling inwardly, imagining what life is going to look like from now on.
—————-
A little update on our y/n and Hannie:
Over the next year, Han and Minho have become inseparable, spending almost as much time with each other as they do with you and Jules.
You’ve introduced Han to your family. He was so nervous at first, but once he realized they approved of him, he was okay.
He learned to play guitar, and even commissioned a guitar maker to make a scaled down working model of an acoustic guitar so he can play whenever he feels like it.
------------
A/N: I hope you enjoyed this little fic. I loved writing it, even though it took me so long to have the energy to put the ideas into words. Thank you so much for reading. Your support encourages me to keep writing.
If you enjoy the more plot driven, lovey dovey fics, I have a few others on my main blog @moonlightndaydreams and I think I will probably cross post this fic as a oneshot over there to keep all my longer Hannie fics together.
Sorsha x.
----------------
@kayleefriedchicken @imperfectlyperfectprincess1 @katsukis1wife @jeonginsleftcheek @ihrtlino @ivydoesit23 @gnab-nahc @skzstan12345 @youcanstayyeah @binnieonabike @hanniemylovelyquokka @moasworld @binniesbabe @courtnort455 @yongbokkiesworld @felixleftchickennugget @bangchans-angel @heerinnie @meilix
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oroborosfeast · 2 days
Text
tender
fandom: house of the dragon pairing: bi!jacaerys velaryon x fem!reader x bi!cregan stark warnings: ooc! jacaerys. ooc!cregan. brief sexual encounter mentioned, suggestive themes tags: fluff. modern setting wc: 434 author's note: english is not my first language.
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“Cregan”
“Yes, love?”
“Could you move?I think you are about to asphyxiate me”
Waking up between two men had its advantages and disadvantages: the warmth, you could never run too hot or too cold if she was to feel goosebumps, jacaerys’s warm hands would find her naked back and lure her back to sleep. If she was to break out in a sweat, blankets would be damned, they would end up on the floor and cregan’s feet would be touching hers to bring her temperature down. The only problem she could think of was how they couldn’t find a proper position to sleep safely and soundly. She always found herself in the middle, sandwiched between two tall bodies. It left her with no choice but to sleep on her back. Things happened and somehow she managed to wake up to cregan’s arm on her throat, which in other circumstances would have been okay.
It was too early in the morning, and she knew that,  at the end of the day not being an early riser always bit her in the ass. 
She felt the bed move and her chest got lighter, cregan had woken up fully. “Rise and shine, baby” cregan gave her cheek a slight pinch and she hid her face in the pillow trying to get a few minutes more of sleep. “Jace will wake up soon,” she thought as the sound of the soft puffs of air he always let out hit her ears. She could always sleep a few hours more if she allowed herself to, but now she knows she can’t indulge herself in that way anymore.
‘Five minutes more.” she groaned 
“It’s 7:30” 
“And in three hours more it will be 10:30 in the morning, meaning, breakfast is still breakfast and not brunch” she quipped “Come back to bed,” Jace began to stir beside her “Please?” 
Cregan stared at her, clearly considering his options, once he sighed she knew that he would come back to the warmth of their bed. “Just this time, okay?” 
“Kay’” 
“Jace hasn’t woken up yet” She turned her to the side once she felt Jacaerys’s arms were no longer holding her. 
“He was pretty spent after we did last night” 
“I think he forgot to brush his teeth… remind me not to kiss him?”
“Will do” 
The conversation was interrupted as Jacaerys grabbed her head and kissed her everywhere on her face making her writhe against the sheets. “No! No!” she screamed in laughter and looked at Cregan for help who could only watch in amusement. 
A good morning, indeed.
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backinmyphase · 2 days
Text
Not my honeymoon
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Synopsis: A household of an arranged marriage with Gojo Satoru wasn't easy. And as the pressure from the higher ups was becoming more and more there was something to discuss. Your honeymoon.
Or: Satoru Gojo doesn't even know how attached he will grow to his wife yet.
Pairing: Gojo x reader, 3000 words
Not really satisfied with this but I hope you enjoy!
Series Masterlist!
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"Are you okay, Gojo?"
No, he was definitely not. He wasn't since all of this started. Since he was destined to marry you. But now as he looked at you it was a different kind of not okay.
What did he do???
You looked sad, no, devastated. Ever since you two ate breakfast together every morning, he thought you would look more relaxed. Maybe even comfortable.
But you seemed to put up a barrier everytime he asked something. And then there was the name.
You still called him Gojo. Even though you were now named the same.
You so carefully kept your distance and you had this sad look in your eyes.
He was worried.
"Yeah, of course." he returned to eating his breakfast. After a bit of silence he opened his mouth again and was surprised he could speak.
"Are you? You look tense."
Your body tensed up again as you looked at him and he wanted to punch himself. He made you uncomfortable, didn't he?
"I am, no worries." you didn't raise your head.
Where did his confidence go? His charisma? His social skills?
Something about his wife made all these so important and natural things dissappear.
The silence spoke loud and the sounds of the eating didn't cover enough of it.
This silence wasn't unusual. In fact it was almost always there when you ate breakfast together. So all the time you saw each other.
And no, he didn't like it. For some reason, on which Satoru couldn't put his finger on, he desperately wanted to know you. He wanted to make peace with you, maybe even be friends with you.
But you seemed so untouchable, he couldn't describe it.
"Well…" Satoru cringed at the sound of his voice. "I have to go to work now."
He stood up and made his way to the door where he made himself ready. "See you later. Have a nice da-"
"Wait, Gojo." Your voice sounded so hesitant, it scared him. "Can we talk later?"
As he looked at you, his whole mind went blank. He felt like he was gonna die. Why did you look at him like that? What did you wanna talk about? Why not now?
"Sure, I can try to come home earlier." He tried to keep his voice steady, but his whole strongest being was shaking in fear.
"Great." you nodded with a neutral look that did NOT scream 'Great'. "Then have a good day at work."
"Thank you, you have a nice day too."
He was going to die, wasn't he?
~
"You look like a corpse." Suguru was always soo considerate.
Satoru sighed as he sat down next to his friend. "Just give me the missions."
His best friend raised an eyebrow. "You know, you should attend the meetings for a change. I'm not always gonna be able to get your missions for you."
"Yeah, you are right Suguru, what would I ever do without you? You are such a good friend." Satoru yawned as he waved his hand.
"Would you please be so kind and enlighten me where I have to be today?"
"I'm going to overlook that sarcasm for today." Suguru handed him a piece of paper. "Here's the list for today."
As Satoru looked at the very long list in horror, Suguru spoke again. "But for real, you look terrible. I thought things were going fine in your marriage?"
"Of course they want me working overtime today." Satoru groaned. "I swear one day I will make all of the higher ups-"
"Satoru, what's wrong?"
He stopped in his rant and sighed. "She wants to talk."
Suguru raised his eyebrow again. "And that's bad, why exactly?"
"Because she always looks like I killed her pet or something like that!" Satoru whined and looked at his paper.
"She doesn't like me."
Suguru shrugged with his shoulders. "I mean, you still didn't apologize."
As Satoru didn't say anything, Suguru continued. "And you also don't really talk to her. How can you expect her to like you yet?"
"Yeah, yeah, you're right." Satoru whispered. Holding his list up, he begged Suguru. "Can you take some of my missions? Please?"
Shacking his head, suguru laughed. "That one time was an exception, I had to work three days in a row for that Satoru. I'm sorry but I have lots of missions too. It's the season."
Satoru just nodded. He had seen this coming.
30 missions in only 12 hours?
It would be a challenge. And it would cause him a little trouble.
But would he give up?
He smiled to himself.
~
You didn't have any time anymore.
The letters of your mother became overbearing, asking where you and Gojo will go for your honeymoon. Asking, that you have surely talked with him about it?
No, you didn't. In fact you were too nervous to even look at him.
You were relieved that he didn't seem to despise you, since he and you ate together now. But he also didn't talk to you and that made you question yourself.
Did he even want to talk?
You needed more time. So much more time. How could they all expect, that you could just sleep with him?
No that just was absurd.
"Mrs. Gojo? How are you feeling today?"
Hina really liked you over the time. Her smile somehow made all of this a bit lighter.
How could you survive a week without her? Just with your husband and the pressure to do something?
"Alright. How are you feeling?" you smiled back, trying to hide your nervousness.
"Perfect, like always." She answered right away, bowing a bit. "Would you like a snack?"
You chuckled a bit. "I can get myself a snack, Hina, you really don't have to."
She shook her head. "Nonsense, it is my job to make you food." She smiled at you knowingly. "And I also get paid for it."
You laughed a bit. "Well, I think my husband will keep paying you even when you make me a snack less."
"If you think so Mrs. Gojo." she made a little curtsy and laughed as she went into the kitchen.
You smiled to yourself as you looked after her. You would miss her on your honeymoon.
Oh god the honeymoon…
~
"Could you please just die?!" Gojo was annoyed as fuck as the curse before him just kept sneaking into barriers and hiding from him.
Normally he wouldn't be this mad.
But he had to be home in time today. And as the curse escaped a crazy laugh at him his anger only rose.
His finger twitched. He wanted to just open his domain and make puddle of this pathetic being. But there were still people near and it would be a bit overkill.
So he had to work with red and blue.
And he had to be fast.
"Gojo Satoruuuhuuuuuu." the distorted voice of the curse spoke underneath him. So smugly, that Satoru felt like laughing.
"Found you."
Hollow purple.
As the cursed energy of the curse slowly disappeared Satoru looked at his list. Still 4 curses in 4 locations. And only 30 minutes till 9 pm.
He had to be faster. Before you would think he didn't care.
If there was just one more stupid barrier, he swore he would-
Goddammit.
~
It was almost 8:51 as you thought you should just eat and go to sleep.
Maybe you would find the courage to talk to him tomorrow too and everything would be fine.
Maybe.
"Should we serve dinner, Mrs. Gojo?" Hina looked at you and waited patiently for your answer.
And as you looked at her something in you switched.
"Wait. My husband isn't home yet, we will wait for him."
Hina chuckled and nodded. She smiled knowingly as she went into the kitchen.
You looked at the clock. 8:56 pm.
You sighed as you sat there. Playing with your glass, you wondered.
Would Gojo even want a honeymoon?
If he didn't, that would be a problem. The higher ups were persistent of you two going somewhere in japan to have 'enough time'.
Your glass seemed to shake, nerarly breaking.
What would you do? What would you tell them? What, what, what-
Forcefully the door opened and Gojo stood there.
A Gojo stained with blood, his blindfold pulled down, looking at you with big eyes.
"What did you want to talk-"
"Why are you bloody-"
You talked at the same time, looking confused at each other. You waited for an answer, as he looked at you confused.
"What do you mean, bloody?" he looked down. Then his eyes widened and he chuckled. "Oh, you don't have to worry, it's not mine."
What did he mean 'don't worry'? He looked like he was out of a horror movie!
Perplexed you looked at him. "Is this all from the curses-?"
"Anyway you wanted to talk?" only now he closed the door behind him.
You blinked at him. Two times. Three times. Then you looked down. "Yeah. But if you are to tired, we can also talk tomorrow -" or the day after, or the day after that day, or…
"I'm not too tired, don't worry." He looked behind you at the empty table. "Did you already eat?"
Just as you wanted to answer, Hina stepped in and took the opportunity to speak. "Mrs. Gojo, now that Mr. Gojo is here, should we serve the food?"
You looked at her and just nodded.
"Well, then." Gojo clapped one time. "We can talk as we eat, right? Then let's sit down."
He took your chair and you wanted to ask what he wanted to do, as he pulled it and offered you the seat. You just sat down and muttered a small thanks.
He smiled, he smiled?, and went to his seat on the opposite side of the table looking at you full of expectation.
Your mind was blank. All the words you so carefully constructed to sentences were all gone. The only thing in your head was the question:
What if Gojo didn't want a honeymoon?
"You waited for me to eat?"
You looked up to Gojo and he smiled at you again. Since when was he so talkative??
"Yeah, I did."
Your voice was much more quiet as you wanted. But he didn't seem to mind as he looked at you with that sparkle in his eyes.
Or maybe his eyes always looked like that.
"Thank you. But you don't have to do that. Most of the time I work much too long for you to stay up and not eat."
"Well, maybe we could still eat dinner together sometimes."
Your mouth spoke without your permission and his widening smile made your head dizzy.
"Your food. We hope you enjoy your meal." Hina placed dinner onto the table bowed a bit and then went into the kitchen as fast as she could.
"Soooooo." Gojo looked down at his food. "What did you wanna talk about?"
"Well…" you stopped, weighing your options of what you could say. Oh, just say it. "I wanted to discuss your honeymoon."
As you looked up you saw two big blue eyes blinking at you. "Our honeymoon? Ohhhhhhhhhhhh"
His shoulders visibly starting to relax as he sighed of relief. A smile forming on his lips again. "Whew, I thought I did something wrong. You had me scared, you know."
"I had you scared?" you looked at him in disbelief. "You came in like a madman covered in blood!"
"Oh, trust me." Gojo leaned back. "That's not nearly as terrifying as my wife, when she is angry at me. She can get really mad, you know?"
You couldn't hide the disbelief in your face and just shook your head. But slowly a smile was forming on your lips. "You're stupid."
Satoru chuckled again and took a bite of the food. Then he looked at you again. "Yeah, yeah. But back to the topic."
Leaning a bit forward, he raised an eyebrow. "Where do you want to go for our honeymoon?"
His voice sounded so casually you felt dumb. "Oh, I don't know. I wanted to ask you."
He tilted his head. "Do you even want to have a honeymoon?"
"What-" panic flooded you as you thought about the higher ups. "Of course!"
"If you say so." he didn't seem convinced but nodded. "But there has to be a place you always wanted to go."
You shook your head. "No, not really. You can decide."
His eyes narrowed as he leaned forward. "Is there no country you ever wanted to go to?"
"No!" you spoke so fast, you couldn't stop yourself from your panic taking over. "I mean- I would like to be in Japan."
He kept silent as he inspected you. And then he sighed. "I have nothing against it, if that's what you want. But you seem so on edge."
You looked down. "Sorry. This…" your throat tightens but you manage to say the words in your mind. "It's just very important."
He blinked at you again and then smiled so softly, you didn't know Satoru could even look at you like that. "It's okay, but if you are too focused on making it perfect, it sabotages itself, doesn't it?"
You couldn't bear his words. The voice of your mother played so loudly in your right ear.
Be a good wife. Be a good wife. Be a good wife be a good wife beagoodwife-
"Would you like to go to a quiet place?" Satoru chuckled to himself. "I wouldn't say no to it."
He looked so sincere. Never before had he talked to you like that. Of course you did have some small talk about his day and what you read the last day, but he seemed so relaxed and like himself right now.
Was this the charismatic Gojo Satoru so many people told you about?
"I would like that." you whispered.
"Hina?" His gaze focused on the girl who quickly emerged from the kitchen. "You and your grandma lived in Shirahama, didn't you?"
She nodded quickly and smiled. "Yes, it's nice there. A bit of the ocean to see and plenty of nature."
She looked at you expectantly. "It's really relaxing, Mrs. Gojo."
Somehow, her shy look made you smile too. "Well, we'll have to go and see it then."
Hina smiled at you with sparkling eyes and bowed a bit again. "You won't regret it!"
"Definitely not!" Satoru laughed a bit. "Then that's settled."
"What-" he looked at his food and continued eating without a care in the world. How could he just carelessly think that that was it?
"But we still have to discuss everything with the higher-ups!"
The atmosphere became much colder along with his gaze. He had stopped eating and his gaze pierced you.
His figure suddenly sitting up straight, his arms to the side, he raised his head.
"Why should I discuss our honeymoon with them?"
The words were caught up in your throat.
You looked down at your food and tried to justify your silence by eating.
"Did you just want to talk to me because of them?" his voice was so much colder than it had been seconds before.
You frantically swallowed your food. "No, I… It wasn't that, really!"
The lies were hard to get off your lips. But he couldn't know about the meetings, no, he simply couldn't!
He was silent. His gaze was lowered and you could no longer see his beautiful blue eyes.
"I wanted to… Get to know you better. We hardly know each other." You pointed to the food table.
"I think it's good that we're eating together now, but that hardly adds anything. I just wanted… For us to have more time together."
When he still didn't say anything, you lowered your head too. "It's just… I thought we still had to organize everything with them? Because of your work and clan duties?"
Gojo chuckled and you heard him looking up. "As if they could fight back. We can just leave."
His voice halled through the room. "And we will tomorrow."
"What?" Shocked, you looked at him. "You can't be serious, can you?"
A huge grin was forming on his face. "You still have to learn how serious I can be. We're leaving tomorrow."
He pulled out his cell phone and typed something. "One of my clan employees will arrange our trip."
"Gojo, we can't just leave!"
"Why not?" he looked deep into your eyes. "Why can't we just say 'fuck them'?"
You shook your head. "Maybe you could, Gojo, but not me! I would disgrace my clan!"
Gojo stood up abruptly. "This is our honeymoon! Your honeymoon! What they think doesn't matter! You're my wife now, those bastards have to respect you! Understand that!"
"It's not that simple." You could only whisper.
He shook his head. "Nevertheless let's go tomorrow. I'll write a letter to your mother and explain that I just took you with me."
He approached your seat. "You wouldn't be to blame."
As if she would think it wasn't your fault. They'd all curse you because then they wouldn't know where you two even were.
But wasn't that what you wanted?
"I'm going to sleep." Determined, you headed for your room. You needed to clear your thoughts.
"We can talk about it again in the morning. And maybe go straight away." He followed you to your door.
"There would be consequences." Something in your voice trembled. "Just running off like that."
And as you stood there, your door to your room already in your hand, he stepped right behind you. His body closer than ever.
Shouldn't Infinity be pushing you back? Why could you feel his warmth, almost feel his breath?
"I could handle that." His hand now held your door.
"I want to get to know you better too."
With that, he let go of your door and left you standing in the hallway, confused.
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Mission Control 3
Warnings: non/dubcon, violence, stalking, and other dark elements. My username actually says you never asked for any of this.
My warnings are not exhaustive but be aware this is a dark fic and may include potentially triggering topics. Please use your common sense when consuming content. I am not responsible for your decisions.
Character: Captain Hydra
Summary: a man marches into your life on a mission
As usual, I would appreciate any and all feedback. I’m happy to once more go on this adventure with all of you! Thank you in advance for your comments and for reblogging ❤️
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Your apartment is dark. You usually leave a light on but today, everything is off. That’s an understatement.  
You lock the door then check twice before you get your shoes off to make sure you really did. You put your knapsack on the stool next to the mat. The air stirs coolly and you shiver as you unzip your jacket and face the apartment. 
The entryway light leaks into the front room and limns over the side of the couch. You wade through the dark and flick on the lamp. Another ripple of wind flows around you. You leave your jacket on, half undone and cross the room as you stare. 
The window is broken. You stop and look down at the shards of glass across the floor. You glance back up at the frame, only a few pieces left in it. You don’t know if it makes you feel better that there’s no way that man would fit through there. Not really, that only means it could have been someone else. 
You take out your phone and dial out to your landlord. As you wait for the line to pick up, you turn on every light in your tiny apartment. You check the single closet and the shower stall and anywhere someone might hide. At least you’re all alone. 
Shit, you’re all alone. 
You cross an arm over your chest as the voicemail greeting rolls over and beeps. 
“Hey, Colin, yeah it’s apartment 1C. The window’s broken. Got home from work and... guess I’ll cover it up for tonight. Please call me back in the morning.” You hang up. What else can you do? 
You stare at the window. You don’t have anything really to cover it with. You keep your phone close and search for anything. The cardboard won’t keep anyone out but once sealed with a garbage bag it will at least block the wind.  
You finish taping up the edges and sigh. You sweep up the stray glass and toss it in a spare box. 
You’re shaking again. It’s too much of a coincidence. You know deep down that it can’t be. Yet, what good does that do you? If it’s not just a string of bad luck, then that means he knows where you live. 
You leave the lamp beside the couch on and turn off the rest of the lights. You hang your jacket then undress in the bedroom. You put on a striped sleep shirt and grab your pillow and blanket. You cast some mindless reality show to the television to fill the silence. 
You go to the bathroom to wash your face and go through your basic nighttime routine. You pause to look at your scalp in the mirror. You use a hand mirror to see it better. Ouch. You’re not too sure if you can do anything but hope that it grows back. 
You retreat to the couch and hunker down. The light will keep you safe. You hope. 
You can’t close your eyes. Your heart won’t stop thumping. You fidget and wriggle around on the couch. Your lashes droop and you feel yourself drifting.  
You give a start and sit up with a gasp as a loud bang cuts through your exhaustion. You grasp at your chest as you look around. Your television is on the floor, screen down, and a gust puffs through the open window. 
You look over at the cardboard and plastic as it hangs from the tap, shorn through. You shudder and hug the blanket around you as you stand. Shit. Was he in here? How... the window is too small-- 
You turn slowly and face the door. You locked it. You know you did. You double, triple-checked. You flip on the entryway light as you near the door. It’s not closed all the way. The door sits against but not in the frame. The latch is turned back and the chain is snapped. 
You push it shut and twist the latch. You stifle a sob and make yourself look through the peephole. It’s black. Something’s blocking it from the other side. 
You recoil and race into the kitchen. You grab the broom from where you left it leaning against the counter and go to the window. You aim the handle out the window and try to see out into the dark. 
“Go away!” You scream into the void. “Leave me alone!” 
Your voice echoes and evaporates into the city. You gulp and stare out. Waiting. Nothing. 
What do you do?  
It’s futile but your tape the window up again. With the cardboard torn through, it hardly makes a difference but you try. You think of calling the police. Maybe you should but the officer’s nonchalance deters you from the trouble. 
You lift your TV. It’s cracked. Broken. Half of it is black and the other half is a spectrum of colours. You put it back on the stand and unplug it. 
You pull the blanket tighter as you start another investigation around the apartment. The bathroom is untouched; the shower empty. The bedroom looks much the same but as you turn to the door, you notice the open drawer. 
You shut it without looking inside. You don’t want to think about that. You doubt he was looking for socks... 
Back in the living room, you sit on the couch, folding yourself up in the corner. You cling to your phone and hug your knees. You rest your chin on top and stare at the wall. Waiting. Dreading.  
He’s not going to stop. He’s toying with you. It’s clear that he could just walk right in and do what he wants. And when he decides to do just that, you’re not sure you’ll be able to do anything. 
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maidflowery · 2 days
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Good Morning, Have a Nice Day
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Aventurine x Reader
You told your boyfriend, Aventurine, to wake you up early the next morning. But little did you know...
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"-up. Wake up, Sunshine."
In your slumber, you faintly heard a voice. The tone was cheerful, almost rivaling the birds chirping outside the window.
"Mm..."
Is it morning already...?
"Oh, the Sleeping Beauty finally wakes up. Hey, don't go back to sleep."
The voice spoke, as laid-back as ever, as if trying to lull you back to sleep.
But... Why didn't I hear any alarm...?
"If you don't wake up by the count of three, I'll kiss you. One... Two..."
"What time is-GAH!!"
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When you opened your eyes, Aventurine's dashing face was hovering a few inches away from you. It was apparent that he'd been watching you the whole time.
Close! Too close!
"Your response to your boyfriend's gentle wake up call is to scream to his face...?"
He sulked, but not for long. Soon, he was smiling from ear to ear again. Was the sight of you waking up that fantastical?
"Good morning~ if you sleep again, the counter will pick up from where it left off."
"...More importantly, what time is it right now?"
Seeing how bright the sun was shining outside the window only gave you bad feelings.
Pretty sure you'd asked him to wake you up at 6 AM. You even set an alarm at 5 AM. After all, your class started at 8 AM.
Aventurine looked slightly dejected for a moment, before answering.
"7.30 AM, why?" he asked as if it was someone else's business.
"7.30 AM!? But... Didn't I... Tell you to wake me up at..." You were so shocked that you could only stutter.
"Well, yes, and I promised to wake you up as early as I could." Aventurine innocently shrugged his shoulders.
As early... As he could?
Somehow, you felt there was a huge emphasis right there. The two of you stared at each other, one dumbfounded, one smiling nonchalantly.
Ah!!! Right!!!
He sucks at getting up early!!!
Actually, both of you were.
If this was a movie, then it was probably the moment when the main character shouted, 'I shouldn't have trusted him!'
Thus, you bolted out of the room and began preparing at the highest speed known to man.
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"Aventurine!!"
A few minutes later, you dashed straight toward his room again. By that time, you had showered and dressed for college.
But the moment you stepped in, your jaw almost dropped to the floor.
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Aventurine stood there with only a white towel draped over his waist. He'd clearly just stepped out of the shower, as his body glowed with a wet sheen.
Glittering droplets of water clung to his chiseled abs, some trickling down even further below. It took you everything not to follow them with your eyes.
Aventurine, who was drying his hair, finally turned at you.
"What's the matter? It's nothing you haven't seen before."
He cocked an eyebrow at you, a playful and tantalizing grin tugging at his lips.
"Aventurine... Why... What are you doing naked!?" you couldn't help but blurt out.
"Says the one who barged in without knocking. Anyway, need anything?"
Saying that, Aventurine approached you, his broad chest filling your field of vision.
Trying to block the view, you shoved your phone to him.
"I'm here to talk about this! Why did you turn off my alarm!? No wonder it didn't ring!"
"Ah, that... But weren't you tired last night? I just thought of letting you sleep a bit longer. How are you feeling now? Did you rest well?"
Aventurine stared at your phone, not trying to deny or affirm it.
Based on his words alone, he sounded like a caring, attentive boyfriend who was just looking out for his girlfriend.
Except you didn't buy it, because of two glaring contradictions.
"Whose fault is it that I barely got any sleep last night!? Also, if that's the case, you must've either disabled it right after I fell asleep, or woke up way earlier!"
"But in the end, I still woke you up, right?" Aventurine gave you an 'all's well that ends well's' smile.
"What do you mean 'in the end'? Were you planning to not wake me up?"
"In the end, I still did, right?"
"..."
He totally planned to!!
Seriously, why is he acting like this!?
In truth, you knew why. You also knew that underneath his nonchalant and flippant attitude, he was sulking.
As you stood there, fuming, Aventurine asked you, putting the towel around his neck.
"Won't you be staying for breakfast?"
"No. Thanks to someone, I have to skip it."
Despite the hint of wistfulness in his tone, you bluntly turned him down, averting your gaze.
"Then, will you be having lunch with your team leader instead? Say hi to him for me."
Hearing that, you raised your head and shot back.
"We've spoken about this! It's just an obligatory meeting to discuss the assignment progress!"
"One that you set a bunch of alarms and even skipped breakfast for. Totally not important indeed."
... It was because you'd ditched one too many of such meetings, missing the next one would totally get you axed. In your defense, that team leader was a prick.
Of course, there was no way you could admit that you often skip group activities to your boyfriend. Or that karma was finally biting you in the ass. That'd be super lame.
We are getting nowhere fast, and I'm running out of time.
"...A-anyway, I'll get going."
You awkwardly turned around, still trying to maintain a tough front.
"Hey, you forget something."
You turned around. "What is—"
His lips sealed yours, and you were unable to finish your words.
"!!"
Aventurine ferociously devoured your lips, leaving no inch untouched, as if imprinting himself. He nibbled on your upper lips, before gnawing on the lower ones. He allowed you a brief moment of respite to reclaim your breath, before resuming his onslaught from a different angle.
The delicate string that was holding your rationality together was about to snap. You were basically holding onto him at this point.
He stroked your tingly lips with the tip of his tongue, gently parting them. Then, his tongue slid in, coiling around your own.
Just as you thought of surrendering completely to this mind-blowing kiss, he stopped.
"...Aren't you going to be late? Whoops."
Aventurine caught you as you toppled forward, burying you in his chest. Immediately, the refreshing, masculine fragrance of his cologne filled your nose.
Embarrassingly, your legs had turned into jelly.
"Oh no. Can you stand? Should we call in sick?"
Within his arms, you could hear him suggest that a tad too happily.
"...No thanks. I'm still going."
You somehow managed to squeeze out those words despite the supple tenderness around you.
"What a shame. Even though your dear boyfriend is home at last."
He spoke in a deflated tone that you could tell was genuine.
Aventurine was a busy man. His business trip would sometimes last for more than a month. Today, he finally had a day off.
All you could do was stare at him as he wiped a trace of saliva from his lips, smiling provocatively at you
"Oh, well. We can always save it for later. If it gets too unbearable, you can always come back to me. Have a nice day."
The kiss that ended as abruptly as it started was his way of giving you something to think about.
As underhanded as always...
You wanted to wipe that smug look off his face!
You grabbed the towel around his neck, pulling him toward you. Briefly, you saw his eyes widen as he was caught off-guard.
"Mmh-!"
Then, you gave Aventurine the taste of his own medicine, but with your own finishing touch.
After the kiss had ended, Aventurine, seemingly taken aback, reached for his lower lip. A red mark had blossomed on his lip, turning it a deeper shade of crimson.
"...I told you, I'll sneak off in the middle, so please wait for me." You said.
Still tracing his lip, Aventurine stared straight at you, his violet-cyan eyes burning from within.
"...Alright. I'll be patient. But I won't wait for too long."
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Extra
...Aventurine's patience lasted only until lunch break.
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verstappentime · 2 days
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divorce verse for your wednesday <3 this is from after max & dan break up. (the rest of this verse is here) (the scene previous to this will get finished but this is what i have today <3) The first night Daniel’s gone, Max walks into a fucking wall trying to go to the bathroom.
It’s happened before, because his depth perception is awful and worse in the dark and worse sometimes than others, but usually he hits knee-first or something. Nope, just a wall right to the orbital bone. 
It’s not something Daniel could have saved him from, but it still doesn’t make it any easier. Daniel’s not there to be woken up by his cursing a blue streak and ask if he’s alright, to sit him down and put ice on it and make him feel less pathetic.
His head is throbbing, in a normal person kind of way. He’s going to have a massive goose egg. He finally gets to the light switch, very, very carefully, and tempts himself to go down the hall with the promise of crying about it afterward.
It’s easier, with the bedroom light illuminating the way. He makes it there and back okay. 
He needs to not call Daniel, but he’s groggy and worked up and he gets confused at night and– he’s just going to lose it if he can’t talk to someone. 
Daniel picks up on the first ring. He must still have Max excluded from do not disturb. Must be sleeping with the ringer on.
“I walked into the wall,” he says, before Daniel can get anything out. 
“What?” He can hear Daniel sitting up, sheets rustling. He should be scolding Max for calling in the middle of the night. He doesn’t. “Are you hurt?” 
“I hit my head. Or, like, my face. Both.” Max touches where the bruise is forming on his head. He kind of forgot what hurt that’s not coming from the inside feels like. He pokes it again. He’s lucky he hit on bone, probably, and that it wasn’t a corner and he’s not bleeding. “I don’t know,” he says, voice cracking. 
“Okay.” Daniel’s all calm. This kind of stuff never bothers him. Max wants him to be here. “You sound alright. You weren’t, like, running, right? Do you have a headache?”  “No. I think– I think I am okay.” He pinches the bridge of his nose, just to see how bad it hurts. “This is shit, Daniel.”
“We need to get you some of those lights you can turn on with your voice, yeah? I’ll look in the morning.” We. He’s going to have to stop that. Not right now.
“I can– I’ll do it.” 
“I’ll remind you, then. What do you want to do right now?” 
“I don’t know,” Max says again. “I don’t want to get up again.” He presses his knuckles to his teeth, something awful in his chest. “I feel shit that I called you already.” 
“I don’t care. It’s good you did. I was scared that you wouldn’t. Makes me feel better.” Daniel pauses. “Not that I’m like, glad you walked into a wall.” 
“It sounds very stupid when you say it out loud.” He knows it’s his fault, but he can’t help it: “What am I going to do? Just call you always?” 
“You can, baby.” Daniel never tells him no. Daniel let him leave because he never tells him no. “You have other people, though. They’ll be happy to answer. You can call your mum or Victoria or Charles. But also me, if you want to.” 
Max wants Daniel to tell him that’s unfair. But the idea of being cut off from the only person that really knows what it’s like for him makes him want to throw up. Charles would laugh at him for this one, even though he wouldn’t mean to. Max says, “I think I want to go back to sleep.” 
“Good idea. You want me to stay on?” 
“No. That will be very boring for you.” Max lays down, turning over on his side, his back to where Daniel should be. “Are you sleeping too?” 
“Yeah, Maxy, I’m going to.” 
“Okay. Then we will both go to sleep.” 
“Yeah,” Daniel says, all gentle. “I’m going to text you tomorrow, okay? It’s okay if you don’t want to talk to me after that. But I’ll remind you about the lights and ask about your face.” 
“That’s fine.” He can’t know if he’ll remember, and he really does not want this to happen again, and– and now he knows for sure he’ll hear from Daniel tomorrow. 
There’s a beat where neither of them know what to say, but Daniel’s the bravest and he says, “I love you. Goodnight.” 
“I– Me too, Daniel.” He can’t lie. Not about that.
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Could you do anymore headcannos for the tmnt 2014/2016 boys? Idc what the headcannon is but I love it hc so much
Sleeping Headcanons
Headcanons you say? Let's get into it!
Warnings: mental health, drugs/alcohol
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We spend nearly half of our lives asleep, and the boys are no different! They're a little backwards, being basically nocturnal, but they sleep (and struggle to), just like anybody else.
Leo
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Bed. Leo is a traditionalist and sleeps on a firm Japanese Futon. He sleeps on his plastron because that's the most practical. He's usually on his side, hugging a pillow, by morning.
Temperament. Even as always, unless he has a migraine, then he's in his room the second he gets home. Dark and quiet. If someone disturbs him, he'll get up and address whatever it is that needs seeing to, but don't expect conversation. However, he *is* a morning person! They all hate him until about 10 am.
Routine. If he has a headache he'll usually have no choice but to just lay down the second he's off the clock. If he doesn't, he has a very strict routine that is *always* adhered to, or he can't sleep (no, that's not a joke):
Tea (usually jasmine) with Dad while processing the day.
Shower.
Teeth.
Undress.
Meditate for 30 minutes.
Sleep.
The morning is much the same but in reverse:
Wake up.
Meditate for 15 minutes.
Get dressed.
Downstairs for coffee/breakfast/discussing the day with Dad.
Training.
Sleeping with a partner. Having someone around to upset his routine is ROUGH. Don't ask to sleep in his bed. Seriously, don't. Sharing *his space* is a HUGE step for him and if you push it, it'll just take longer. He'll start small, inviting you into his room for tea. Be PATIENT with the boy. Once you start sleeping in his bed it'll take him a while to get used to it. The first few times he doesn't sleep. But eventually, you worm your way into his routine, and he can't sleep without you. Until then, he will happily hold you until you fall asleep, even stay watching over you until morning. But he won't sleep.
Mikey
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Bed. Pillow pile! He started collecting pillows as a kid to add to his hoard, which is now comically large and takes up 1/3 of his room. He loves the weird ones and has ones with tassles and beads and insane shapes. It's actually pretty impressive and could probably double as a modern art piece!
Temperament. It's all good! No matter what state he's in, he's always the life of the party. Always.
Routine. He's usually parked in front of the TV until everyone disperses (video games/tv/ect). Then, depending on how hard his depression is hitting that night, he'll either grab a bong (hard) or a bottle (harder). He'll drink in his room , but he'll skate down one of the south tunnels to smoke because he doesn't want to hear about it from Leo. Splinter knows about the weed, but doesn't have a problem with it, because it really does seem to help. He would, however, have a problem with the liquor. Once Mike is thoroughly gone, he tosses himself on his pillow pile and attempts to pass out. Sometimes he does. He gets hangovers from the alcohol, but the second he wakes up that mask is firmly back in place and he's good to go! 😃
Sleeping with a partner. ALL. THE. CUDDLES. Expect him not to let go. Like, pee beforehand. He may not be as big as his brothers, but he's still pretty damn heavy. You are HIS Angel. You are HIS miracle. And you aren't going ANYwhere. Lots of nuzzling/scent marking, LOTS of churring, and when he does eventually fall asleep, he snores like a diesel engine. Just poke him in the side and he'll shut up.
Don
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Bed. What's a bed? You mean the cot in his lab? On the rare occasion that *someone* convinces him to actually sleep in a bed, it's pretty much whatever bed or bed-adjacent thing they bring him to. By the time he's tired enough that he can be convinced, he's too far gone to care.
Temperament. When Donnie is tired, expect to be snapped at. He'll apologize immediately, but his temper is a hair trigger when he needs sleep. And my dude goes until he stops. Don's body wakes up before he does. Expect mumbled one-word answers that may or may not make sense as he gradually comes to consciousness over the next half-hour.
Routine. Donnie doesn't make the decision to go to bed. He just wakes up and it's later. When he does wake up, his body has been conditioned to perform all the necessary morning tasks without him having to actually be fully conscious. Sit up. Grab freshly brewed espresso from desk next to cot. Shotgun espresso. Wrap joints. Stand up. Go to kitchen for second cup of coffee (because Raph has already brewed a pot, and because at some point in his teenage years, his father insisted on seeing him at least once a day). Make/drink coffee. Eat the closest edible thing. Go back to the lab. By this point, his conscious mind has usually kicked in and he can get back to work.
Sleeping with a partner. I hope you like to be lulled to sleep by computer fans! You'll get used to the phrase, "go and lie down, Dove. I'll just be a minute." It's always a lie. You know it. He knows it. The wall of computer towers behind you knows it. But he does the song and dance, anyway, because he thinks it makes you feel better. It doesn't. If he does happen to fall asleep with you, of COURSE he's the big spoon. He wraps himself around you and holds you as close as he can (he's still working on getting past all those pesky air molecules), with his beak buried in your hair so that he can breathe you in as he falls asleep (at least the air molecules are good for something).
Raph
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Bed. My guy is BIG, and needs a ton of support. A traditional flat mattress is uncomfortable unless he sleeps on his plastron which he HATES doing. His carapace is HEAVY, and it feels like he's literally being crushed under his own weight. Besides, he's in enough pain when he wakes up, and as much as he loves working out, he really doesn't want to have to do pushups first thing in the morning. Instead, he has a carbon fiber hammock that he wove himself. It hangs from a reach stacker arm modified with two lifting jacks bolted to the floor, all "liberated" from the shipyard. It supports all of him with the added benefit of pressure on all sides due to his weight, which helps him sleep, especially when he's in a low.
Temperament. When he's tired he's a grump. He's not quick to anger, but expect a lot of grumbling and begrudging acquiescence to things. He doesn't usually push it too far before heading to bed, because let's face it, pain is exhausting, and if he's laying down he's not having to hold himself up. He's not a "morning person," but he's usually okay as long as he knows there's a cup of coffee in his near future.
Routine. Pretty standard. Shower, teeth, etc. Once in bed, he'll mess around on his phone for a while, watching movies/tv/anime, before eventually falling asleep. In the morning, he rolls out of his hammock and heads to the kitchen for coffee with his Dad before everyone else emerges. After that it's his morning workout and he starts the day. Honestly the mostly boring/normal out of all of them.
Sleeping with a partner. He won't sleep in your bed. He just won't. Don't ask. He'll hold you until you fall asleep, no question, but he won't stay. The only hope for a sleepover is at his place. He likes to give you a big hug around the middle and roll into the hammock with you, and it always leaves you giggling as you snuggle up against his plastron. That's when he sleeps best, with you laying on his chest, his arm wrapped around you. Not only is it added pressure, but this way he knows you're safe.
.......
Tag list:
@thelaundrybitch @the-cauldron-witch @fyreball66 @ninnosaurus @tmntngl @thegirlwiththeninjaturtletattoos
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blissxjj · 3 days
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Hello hello!! I would like to request de brothers with a MC who is a extreme kisser. They lose almost all their breath to be able to stay in a long kiss. And then go to another.
I'm sorry if it's too hard to understand 😥, English is not my first language.
Brothers X An Extreme Kisser
Featuring: Lucifer/Mammon/Asmodeus
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Lucifer
It was a nice quite evening as Lucifer sat on his desk doing some paper work, till he heard a knock and you cracked the door peeking in
"You can come in MC" he said and you push the door and ran to his desk
"Luci you said you would stop overworking yourself" you said extremely aware of his workaholic nature
"I am sorry sweetheart but, you know Diavolo needs me now more than ever" Lucifer said
"Well maybe i need you more than him" you said getting annoyed
He looked up at you and your face heats up because you just realized what you said. You finally make your way towards him and give in to your desires
You lean over his desk grabbing his tie pulling him in for a slow passionate kiss. Lucifer knew he was in for a long one as he had always known how extreme your kisses are, as much as he wants to breath he can't bring himself to pull away from you, both because of your grip on his tie and just the pure lust he started feeling, rising through his body making it harder and harder to breathe.
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Mammon
It was early morning when you woke up to your bed shuffling, looking back to see Mammon tossing and turning in bed while sleeping. You turn to face him and lift your hand to brush over his cheek, that was enough to make his eyes flutter open. Still heavy with sleep he mumbles a "good morning" to you before his eyes close again
"You move alot in your sleep you know that?" You asked
"Yes and there is nothing you can do to stop it" he said
You loved this challenge, as it made you want to win and rub it in his face
"Bet i can restrain you for a good while" you said seductively
"Really!?" Before he could say more you smack your lips on his and turned to get on top of him, the sudden action made Mammon blush like hell, your kiss made him numb as you lick, bite and rub on him, he broke it off for some air and he said between huffs
"So extreme! But you did restrain me so that’s a point for you"
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Asmodeus
It was a quiet evening in the house everyone was minding their business and doing work or hobbies. Not Asmo tho he was going around annoying everyone else because he had nothing to do, everything is checked on his list for today
He was about to give up and go sulk in his room until the front door opened, and oh did he recognise those shoes noises of his beautiful human baby stepping in.
He ran to you greeting you and telling you how everyone was soo mean to him today, poor baby was just trying to bond with someone instead of himself for once and look what they did to him!
"i will show you what real bonding is, go to your room i will be there in a sec" you said
Asmo RAN! to his room and sat on the bed waiting for you to open the door, it didn't take long for you to step in and walk over to him, he was about to say something but your lips were instantly on his
Your kisses are the longest most passionate kisses he has ever experienced, and he is a very experienced man, the way you leave him breathless every single time and oh he loves every second of that deprivation.
Masterlist
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nikkicloudie · 2 days
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When I was your man...PT 3
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Husband!Tyler Owens x Wife!Reader, Ex!Javi Rivera x Ex!Reader
Warning: language, Javi being Javi like in the last 2 stories, Reader(You) finally snapping at Javi, Tyler threatening Javi, Again unwanted touch (From Javi and Tyler), and mentions of sex (Javi again shocker),
Summary: A few more days have passed and Javi tries to get on your good side. He takes it a little too far talking about the future he and Reader once wanted and promised to give it to her. duh duh duh
@sarah-bear706318 for the mood bored!
A few more long days passed as Javi kept saying bullets through your body. His stare was so intense it could drill a hole through your body, making you very uncomfortable. You started to grab some bags out of Tyler's trunk. You back up into someone, and you turn around quickly and sigh slightly annoyed. "Javi..." you said as he smiled and leaned against the truck. "Just coming to see if you need help," he said.
Before you can answer, he grabs the bags from your hands. "Let's go?" he says as he gently pushes you to lead the way. You slowly do as Javi makes his failed attempts to talk to you, you don't respond to him. He finally gives up you stop in front of your door "You can drop them" you say "Why don't I come inside?" he says getting closer as you back up agenst the door. Javi hot breath near you mouth.
You gently push him away and grab the bags "I got it" you say opening the door and slamming it in his face. He stands there for a few moments before slowly walking away. You sighed in relief as you saw his shadow walk away from your hotel room. You sit on your bed wondering why Javi after the past week wanted you back I mean he broke up with us! But another part of you wanted to forgive him after all those years sure not divorce Tyler and give Javi another chance.
You lay down on your bed and sighed as you looked over at the TV that was playing the weather news. You rolled your eyes slightly and turned off the TV. The more you think the more tired you feel and before you know it you are out like a light.
The next morning you yawned and opened your hotel room door and as you slept out you heard a *CRUNCH* below your feet. You look down and move off the...flowers? You smile picked up the flowers and look for a note. There was no note which made you smile more thinking it was from Tyler. You set them in your hotel room as you walk to Tyler he tips his cowboy hat to you "Hey there honey how ya sleep?" he says as you hug him tightly "Alright but thank you for the flowers" As soon as you say that he tiles his head looking confused "What flowers?" he said which make you look at him and look at Javi who smiled at you that's when you connected the dots.
Before you could say anything he spoke up "Must've been a dream hon..but I'll buy you flowers just say the word" He kissed you and you kissed back slowly as he smirks at you "god I've been wanting you forever my beautiful wife~" he says cupping your ass which made you giggle "Maybe later tonight~" You whisper in his ear before pulling away and walking back to your room to throw away those flowers thst have Javi cooties on them.
The more the day continued the more weirder it got. First the flowers then random Starbucks coffee on your dresser, and then chocolate on your chair after you got up and left for just a second, then it was a cookie box at your front door, next to these stupid love letters you didn't bother to open. You sighed in frustration at these random gifts all you thrown away expect the coffee because who tf throws away free coffee?
The reason you threw them away is so you didn't have Javi's blood all over the front of Tyler's truck. Tyler walked into the room and looked at you "Hey sweetheart I and the group are gonna chase ya wanna come with?" against your best judgment "Nah'll be ok here" You smiled as he kissed you gently "Let me know if ya need anything just give me a call alright?" he says as you nod and you watch him walk out.
A few hours have passed and you walk out of your room and down the stairs to the vending machine. As you put a dollar in you heard a voice in your ear that sounded too familiar to your liking "Hey there Y/N how ya been?" Javi hot breath in your ear as you turned on your heel "What Javi..." You said annoyed. "You like the gifts?" he asked and before you could answer he continued "You know another gift I could give you? A family...the family you always talked about...with a white fence and a son and a daughter and a dog..." he said which made you tense up at the memories you didn't want back.
"Clearly Tyler can't give it to you...let me Y/N let me give you the family you always wanted..." he said leaning in slowly and closing his eyes as he went to kiss you. 'Fuck it' you thought to yourself everything you thought about forgiving Javi was out the window. His lips got closer to yours and before your brain could think your body already thought first *SLAP* your hand right across his face.
He stumbled back and hold his cheek as he stares at you and you stare at him shocked by your slap before your shock turned into anger "How fucking dare you, Javi Rivera!?" you yelled at him "Trying to kiss a married woman! And try to get in her pants after you dumped me! Remember you dumped me! And now that I'm finally happy again you want to ruin it! Right!?" You yelled which was making a scene as some people stopped what they were doing to look at you guys.
"The reason me and Tyler don't have kids is because of me! I'm choosing to wait to have kids! But you don't need to know that! In fact, you don't need to know anything! 5 years ago I didn't want to chase but look at me today! I'm a different woman now, Javi Rivera! Not some lost young girl you can control anymore!" you say glaring at him as he stammered his words. Before he could say anything you walk past him back to your hotel room which tears in your eyes.
You slam the door and sit on the bed as you start to sob and hug your knees to your chest. It felt like forever you stayed like that until your hotel room door opened and Tyler walked inside he was smiling until he saw you "Sweetheart what's wrong?" He asked walking to you and kneeling in front of you as you kept sobbing and hugging him while shaking your head. Tyler definitely knew something was wrong but didn't push any further because he didn't want you trying any harder all he knew was someone was definitely dying when you finally told him what was wrong.
PART THREE THANK YOU GUYS SO MUCHHHH AHHHHHHHH
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lemoncrushh · 2 days
Text
Show Me Your Texts, or It's Over
Summary: Harry finds out you've been in contact with your ex and gives you an ultimatum.
Warnings: angst, maybe a little gaslighting
Word Count: 1889
A/N: From my 2016 collection. This was based on a prompt selected by a reader. Very angsty. You won't like Harry in this, and maybe not y/n either. I almost didn't repost it, but please don't take it too seriously.
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You hurried outside to your car, the summer heat threatening to burn you through your black shirt. You felt the vibration of your phone in your hand, alerting you of yet another text from Harry. He'd been texting you all morning and throughout your lunch break. It had started off as a harmless conversation of missing each other when he'd reminded you what time his flight arrived. You'd been apart for over a week, resolving to short late night phone chatter until one of you fell asleep, or the occasional text that left you cold and flat. Needless to say, you were dying to see him.
As the morning progressed, however, so did the texts. His flight was delayed due to weather. He wasn't sure if he'd make it in time to go home and change, so he'd asked to meet you at the dinner party. You argued back and forth, insisting that you were fine with being a bit late if it meant you could go together.
You knew without a doubt that this text that had just arrived was him telling you otherwise, but you were already running late and needed to get back to work. You'd been excited for and anticipating his return, but now you were just frustrated and perturbed.
Tossing your purse and your phone in the passenger seat, you drove back to work. It wasn't until you were settled back in your desk, running your hands through your hair with a sigh, that you decided to examine his newest text. You were surprised, however, when you noticed the name. It wasn't from Harry. It was from your ex-boyfriend, John.
Biting your lip, you swiped the screen to read the text.
Working hard, or hardly working?
You chuckled, texting him back quickly.
Neither. Just got back from lunch.
Damn, I was hoping to persuade you to meet me for a bite.
You grinned at your screen. John had texted you out of the blue two weeks ago. At first you were apprehensive about talking to him again. He'd been the one to break off the relationship, claiming he wasn't ready to commit. You'd taken that to mean he wanted to be free to screw around, so you'd given him the boot. Although you held your head up high, you'd been hurt, your self-esteem lacking. That is, until you'd met Harry. Harry had been the solace that you'd needed, lifting you up repeatedly by his words as well as his actions.
When John came clean with you in his texts, apologizing and admitting that you deserved much more than he had given, you'd decided to bury the hatchet. There was no point in being bitter about it, and you forgave him, not so much for his sake, but for yours.
One thing you hadn't done, though, was tell Harry about it. It wasn't really that you were trying to hide it from him, but you didn't want it to become a big deal. Harry knew how John had treated you. You'd told him repeatedly, and a couple of times had cried in his arms over it. So telling him this same ex that had made you cry was now texting you like an old friend...probably wouldn't be a good idea.
Sorry, you texted John back. Raincheck?
Better yet, how about you meet me for drinks later?
You gritted your teeth, not sure how to answer. Asking for a raincheck on lunch was one thing. Lunch you could do. Probably. But drinks after work? Besides, you needed to run straight home after work to get ready for this dinner party with Harry.
As though he knew you were thinking of him, Harry's name popped up with a new text.
Flight's been delayed longer. I should be home about 7.
Just as you were about to reply, another text alert from John popped up.
How does Margo's sound?
You swallowed hard, trying to decide who to answer first. Quickly, you typed out a message for John.
Sorry, I can't tonight. Harry's coming home.
As soon as you hit send, your eyes about popped out of your head. You'd sent it to the wrong person! Shit!
You saw the three little dots pop up, indicating Harry was typing.
What??
Calming yourself down, you decided to play it cool. It was an accident. He had no idea who the message was for.
Haha sorry baby. I was talking to a friend. Didn't mean to send that to you. I'll see you at 7.
Ok
Making sure you had John's text open then, you politely declined, sending him the text you'd originally intended to.
Oh ok then, John sent back. Maybe some other time. Have fun!
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"[Y/N]!" you heard Harry call from the front of the house.
"You're home!" you squealed from the bedroom.
You'd hoped to meet him at the door, greeting him with lavish kisses, but right then you were in an awkward position on the bed, trying to buckle your high-heeled strappy sandal.
"Hi, beautiful," he said in a low tone.
You looked up to see him standing in the doorway. Temporarily dismissing your buckle, you stood to meet him halfway, wrapping your arms around him.
"Mmm, I've missed you," you murmured against his chest.
"I missed you, too," he echoed, "and you look gorgeous."
"What, this old thing?" you playfully scoffed, stepping back to allow him to view your ensemble completely.
A sexy grin spread across his face while he set his suitcase against the wall.
"I'll hurry and get ready. Wish I had time for a shower."
"Go ahead," you insisted. "I don't mind waiting."
"No, love, we're already late. I'll just change."
You sat back down on your bed, grabbing your phone while Harry undressed. You'd gotten a couple of texts from John earlier. When you'd told him you were getting ready for a dinner party, he'd asked you to send a picture. You thought it was a little odd at first, but so far he hadn't said anything that made you feel uneasy. You'd sort of slipped into this comfortable friend zone unexpectedly. So a few minutes before Harry had arrived, you'd sent John a selfie in your dress. He had yet to reply.
Tossing your phone on the bed, you stood and walked to the vanity to put your earrings on. As you were adjusting the second one, Harry passed by the bed.
"Who's John?" he inquired, shoving his arms into a clean shirt.
"What?" you turned to look at him. You noticed then he was inspecting your phone.
"You just got a text from a John," he added.
Oh no.
"'Wow, you look amazing!'" Harry quoted, reading the text that John had apparently sent. "'Sexy as hell!'"
Your entire body trembled as he lifted his head to glare at you.
"Who the fuck is John?" he repeated, his voice rising.
"Um..." you sucked in your lips, wringing your hands.
"Not your bloody ex boyfriend!" Harry nearly shouted, his eyes narrowed.
"Baby-" you started, but Harry interrupted you.
"You're talking to him again? After what he did to you?"
"Harry," you swallowed, stepping towards him. "Let me explain."
His face showed no sign of willingness to listen to any explanation though he remained rooted in his spot.
"He's been texting me a little," you admitted.
"A little?" Harry raised a brow. "For how long?"
"A couple weeks."
"A couple weeks?! Were you gonna tell me?"
You looked down at your hands, wishing you had something in them to hold.
"I thought you'd be mad," you said meekly.
"Well you were right about that!" Harry turned away from you, running a hand through his hair. "Fuck!"
"Harry, I'm sorry," you muttered sincerely. "But I swear, it's harmless."
He swung around, his eyes shooting daggers at you. "Harmless, huh?"
"Yes. He wanted to apologize for everything. I told him I appreciated and accepted his apology, and we just got to talking about what we've been up to, you know, like catching up. I told him about you and-"
"You've told him about me," Harry interrupted.
"Yes! He knows all about you. He knows you were coming home today and we were going to a party."
"Is that..." he paused, "is that who you were texting earlier today? When you sent me the wrong text?"
The look on his face told you he did not find it funny in the least, regardless of your trying to play it off like you had. You opened your mouth to retort, but decided it wasn't worth it.
"Yes," you sighed.
"Shit," Harry dropped his shoulders. He blinked slowly before reaching for your phone.
"Let me see the texts," he demanded.
"What?" you asked incredulously.
"The texts from him. Your conversations."
Anger building in your chest, you grabbed your phone out of his hand.
"No!" you glared at him. "That's ludicrous!"
"Why? Because you have something to hide?"
"No, I-"
"Then show them to me, [Y/N]."
You stood silent for a moment before shaking your head slowly.
"Show me your texts, or it's over," said Harry.
"You can't be serious," you contended, your voice just a whisper.
"Dead serious."
"You..." you began, but quickly surrendered, handing him the phone. "Fine."
You sunk down onto the bed while Harry scrolled through your text messages from John. You knew there was nothing wrong with them. It was the principal. Harry didn't trust you, and that angered and disappointed you.
You focused on Harry's belt buckle while he stood before you. You felt like a child. You didn't appreciate it. You loved Harry and you would never to anything to sabotage your relationship. A tear dropped in your lap, wetting your dress before you even realized you'd been crying. Sniffling, you stood up again to reach for a tissue on the vanity.
"[Y/N]," you finally heard Harry mutter. He cleared his throat. "Baby, I'm sorry."
You turned and looked at him, your eyebrows raised. He lowered the phone, dropping it on the bed. Then he stepped closer to you, reaching for your hands.
"I'm so sorry," he declared again. You noticed a glint of a tear in his right eye.
"I was telling the truth," you said.
"I know," Harry bit his lip, the side of his mouth turning up. "You mentioned me a lot."
"I did," you nodded.
"And you said you're madly in love with me."
"I did."
"And that you're happy. For the first time in your life."
You blinked. "Yes, I did."
"God," Harry ran a hand through his hair again. "I was a jealous prat."
You giggled softly before placing your hands on his chest. "What on earth do you have to be jealous about?"
Harry grinned. "I mean...I still kinda think he's trying something. But I like how you sidestep him every time."
"Because I don't want him, Harry," you conveyed. "I want you. Only you."
You gazed into his eyes until he slipped his hands under your ears and lowered his mouth to capture yours.
"I really missed you," he murmured. "Maybe too much. It's made me do something I never thought I'd do."
"I'm yours, baby," you promised. "You don't have to worry about a thing."
You slid your hands down his torso.
"Except maybe about being late for dinner."
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MASTERLIST | KO-FI | FEEDBACK
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jadeylovesmarvelxo · 8 hours
Text
By Wednesday afternoon the whole of Hawkins High had exactly one piece of gossip on their minds.
You and Eddie Munson. Specifically you and Eddie Munson appearing hand in hand that morning, much to the shock and in Jason's case worst nightmare.
No one had to know that the little show you were putting on was fake...
It had been your idea to approach Eddie and casually bring up the subject of fake dating. Because why not piss off a mutual enemy? You knew Eddie couldn't stand Jason and vice versa.
Plus it might be the little bit of vengeance you had been waiting to exact on Jason for months now; ever since he had tried to get you to date him.
When you refused he took great delight in humiliating you. After months of bidding your time you figured out the perfect way to get back at the asshole.
Naturally Eddie was suspicious when you approached him. Not that you could blame him. It's not like the two of you ever interacted. You weren't super popular or anything but you were friends with Chrissy and Jackson.
So yeah, you totally understood why he was hesitant to talk but he quickly came round to your way of thinking.
"I like the way you think sweetheart and anything that pisses Carver off is good in my book. What are the rules though? Like kissing and shit like that?" you nod and count the rules.
"Kissing is okay, I mean it has to be believable. Holding hands, hugs. I swear he watches me like a creep all the time and since I turned him down he's been even more of an asshole, maybe if he thinks I'm seeing someone, especially his enemy he will leave me alone" Eddie frowns then his eyes light up with mischief.
"Well that's even more of an excuse to piss him off. I'm in sweetheart" the two of you shake hands and you smirk.
"Pleasure doing business with you Munson"
...
From the minute that the two of you started introducing your "relationship" to the world it caused an uproar in the high school gossip chain.
Jason as expected was fuming and Eddie found it hilarious. He made a show of fawning over you and calling you "milady", doing sweet gestures (kissing your hand and calling you princess was one of your favourites)
He was hilarious, snarky and sarcastic and you actually liked spending time with him.
Your first kiss with Eddie is meant to be something that's quick and done just to advance your "relationship" but the minute Eddie's lips met yours it was intense and passionate, honestly it blew your mind a little bit.
It's not like you didn't notice how handsome Eddie was. He was gorgeous. Even some of the girls who ridiculed him and called him a freak mentioned how hot he was. So it's not like you were blind to his charms. His goofy, overdramatic and passionate gestures never failed to hold your attention.
The two of you were having fun and yeah you liked spending time together but that's all it was. Or at least, that's what you kept telling yourself.
...
It was a rowdy lunch at Hellfire Club as usual, you were perched on Eddie's knee and listening to the chatter while ignoring Jason's glare in your direction.
Thankfully he seemed to be leaving you alone...at least for now. Who knew how long that would last? The current conversation takes your mind off Jason and you focus on that.
"Don't you two ever get mixed up sometimes? I mean the two of you get pretty close all day?" Gareth asks curiously. Eddie shrugs and you find yourself feeling sick with anticipation for his answer.
"It's just fake. It's not as if we have real feelings for each other or anything" Eddie waves off Gareth's concerns and something inside you breaks.
Of course that's how he felt. It was like a cold dose of reality and boy did it hurt. It was so easy to lose yourself in this, for the lines of fake and reality to blur.
Faking a smile you nod along and then bury your head in Eddie's chest, he probably thinks you're doing this to annoy Jason but it's so he doesn't see your tears.
You were so stupid for falling for Eddie when all of this didn't mean anything to him.
...
Yes I will be expanding on this if people want that 🥰❤️
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prettypinkporkchop · 2 days
Note
Can I request one where the reader overhears her boyfriend Paul calling the reader clingy so she went from being by his side to always having plans barley seeing him and he finally gets her and she just breaks down saying she didn’t wanna be clingy anymore
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You smile to yourself as you walk around Billy Black's house toward the back, where you know Paul is.
"Yes! Same, dude! Is y/n the sam way as Nessie?" You hear Jacob ask. "She's just clingy!" You can hear Paul say. Your heart jumps and then falls onto the ground, shattering. You feel sick to your stomach. You don't even want to hear the rest. You turn your feet and walk right back to your car. You start the engine and go.
On the drive back home, you're crying. But, things are going to change if you want to keep Paul.
You stop at a gas station and pull out your phone. You call your coworker who you get along with.
"Hey Angela." You say. "Hey! What's up? Oh, if it's to cover for your shift Thursday, I would, but I can't. Ask for any other day, though!" She pipes up. "No, no. I was actually wondering if you wanted to hang out." You say. She pauses but then starts talking again, "Yes! When? Where?" She giggles. "Are you busy now?" You smile. "Nope."
You drive to Angela's house. You know where she lives, considering you've had to scoop her up for work a couple of times. Her car hates to start on freezing mornings. You walk up the steps and knock on her door. Eric opens it. Typical Eric, in his nice suit from work. "Hello?" He asks. "Hey! I'm Angela's coworker, y/n. I'm just coming to hang out." You say. "Oh!" He smiles and then points at you, "Yeah, yeah! She just mentioned that! Come in." He lets you inside.
You get home, and you go to bed. Your phone starts ringing. You pick it up. "Y/n, where have you been?" He asks kind of angrily. "I've been with Angela." You reply. "Your coworker?" He asks. "Yes." You say dryly. "Oh.. uh, you didn't tell me?" He said. "Sorry, babe." You sigh. "You're acting off." He said. You had to think quickly. "I just forgot to tell you. I'm sorry, babes. Needed some girl time." You giggle. "Oh, I see. Well, tomorrow I'm not doing anything at all! My day off of being a wolf." He laughs. Your heart is pounding. Oh god, do you want to be next to him. "Want to come over?" He asks. "Uh, no, I have plans." You say. You put him on speaker phone and go through your contacts. "With who?" He asks, surprised. You see the texts between you and Leah. She asked you a couple of days ago to decorate her house since you're good at that. "Leah wants me to decorate her house." You text her saying you'll be there tomorrow. "How about after?" He asks. "I'll visit for a little bit." You sigh.
-------- 2 weeks later -----
You wake up to pounding on your door. You jump up out of bed and open the door. There stands a disheveled, hurt, and angry Paul. "Paul?" You ask. He pushes past you and walks inside, going straight to your room. You follow him, and he bear hugs you. Squeezing you and sighing of relief. "Jesus christ. You know it hurts to stay away from you. Why the fuck have you been avoiding me?" He pulls away and looks at you. Seeing him in this state and completely missing him just brings tears to your eyes. You can't hold it anymore. You sit on your bed and start sobbing. "What is going on, baby?" He leans down and holds your face, looking into your red eyes. He wipes your tears away, and you blink a few times. "Paul, I heard what you said to Jacob at Billy's house." You said. He raises an eyebrow. "I'm too clingy." You said dryly. "If that's what I am to you and you're unhappy, you should've just told me. I'm scared to lose you." You cry. "Babygirl." He pulls you into him. "No, I didn't mean it like that at all. I love that you're clingy. It's my favorite thing ever." He cooes. You shake your head and try to push him off. "No. You meant it bad, I could tell." You sniffle. He holds tighter, so you can't get out of his grip. "We were talking about you and Renesmee. We were saying things that we like that most guys hate. Babygirl, we are soulmates. Nobody understands what it's like to truly love someone." He strokes your hair. You look up at him, and now you feel stupid. "I promise you. I can't lie to you, you know that. And look at me!" He chuckles. "I actually feel like death.'' He says. "I'm so sorry." You sigh and wrap your arms around his neck. He kisses you deeply, it feel like the first time kissing him. It feels like it's been forever. He pulls away from your lips very slowly. "I'm staying the night." He says, demanding. You laugh and nod your head.
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miller-n-morgan-2 · 3 days
Text
Take Me Home
4. John Fucking Marston
Arthur Morgan x Texas Red!Reader
A/n: GUYS I GRADUATED MY FROM MY COURSE! i give you this chapter as a token of my celebration... now I just have to make sure I don't have any models fall off the runway in my line up lmao
Summary: The newest arrival makes his way into camp, and inadvertently becomes the reason that chaos begins to spread. Luckily, his new uncle Arthur is there to carry the woes on his broad shoulders.
Warnings: mild swearing, canon typical violence, birth?? mentions of past death and Arthur remembering his deadbeat dad days. drinking, mild alcohol abuse?? also Hosea is a real one we love Hosea
WC: 4.5k
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“Need I remind you of the price you’re gonna pay?”  “She’ll be safe with you. The boy, too. I ain’t leavin’ them in incapable hands.” “But you’re leaving them,” Arthur reasoned, trying his best to make any last effort to save what could have been, but he knew his found brother would not be changing his mind. His only thought at this point was to beg him to stay. If only because he was the one who asked. “Don’t do this. They need you, we need you.”
A week after the heist, Arthur’s shoulder was feeling better… but his head was hurting like hell. 
In fact, on this specific night, nearly everyone’s head was throbbing on account of the wails and cries of terrible pain coming from the edge of camp. 
Abigail had gone into labor around five hours ago, and the little baby had still not come into the world yet. As of right now, the men were huddled close to the fire, passing around a fresh bottle of whiskey in attempts to pass out so they could get some sleep. Meanwhile, the women were rushing to and fro about the camp, working their asses off to bring a new life to the gang. 
You figured it would help you bond with the boys more if you sat with them, moaning and groaning about the noise… but you’d much rather be helping, making sure nothing went wrong in the tumultuous process of birth. 
It wasn’t until close to one in the morning that a tiny baby boy was born, strong as ever, with lungs so powerful they could blow a lark out of a tree. His cries replaced Abigails, but after all that time, everyone was pleased to know the delivery was over, and both parties were healthy and sound. 
The men did eventually pass out, all except two. 
Arthur and John were up till the crack of dawn arguing, and it didn’t look good from an outside perspective. 
You were about to take back towards your tent when you came across them, hurriedly getting out of their line of sight so you could listen without suspicion. You knew you had no right to eavesdrop, but with everything you’ve heard from Abigail concerning John, you were bursting with curiosity in a way that turned your stomach. 
“I don’t see why I need to be convinced otherwise,” John ripped into his dearest friend, and even from behind a wall of tented fabric, you could imagine the look on his face. 
“You’re makin’ a mistake right now, and you ain’t gonna see it until it’s too late.”
“How would you know? S’not like you did any better,” the tone of his voice was bitter, almost. John caught himself, taking a step back and breathing more evenly after his fit of anger. “I didn’t mean that, Arthur… but you oughta know where my head’s at.”
Arthur was silent, and you wished more than anything you could see the look on his face to determine how Marston had gotten to him. Was he saddened or angry? Maybe even confused? You didn’t know, but you didn’t have long to dwell on it. 
“You listen here, boy,” Arthur’s voice sounded threatening, intimidating. It was perhaps the scariest you’ve heard him speak. “You ain’t got no idea what’s comin’ to you if you leave. There will be no place in hell you’ll be able to hide from the decision you’re about to make. It’ll follow you the rest of your days, and haunt you when you’re dead, you understand me?”
John didn’t speak, didn’t answer or even mumble an excuse, he just walked away. He walked towards Abigail’s tent, ducking his head under and closing the front panel. You stood there stunned, afraid to move… but then Arthur came up around the backside of the area and scared the shit out of you. 
“You hear all that?” He asked, a slanted look in his eyes and a distaste for you in his tone. It might be the remnants from his past conversation, but you hate the way it sounds. 
“Arthur,” you caught your breath from the fright he gave you just in time to mumble out an apology. “I’m sorry, I know I shouldn’t be listenin’, but Abigail’s been telling me things and I just…”
He managed to huff out one silent breath of a laugh, shaking his head. 
“Don’t be fretin’ on my account, I ain’t mad at you.” 
You sighed in relief, stepping closer to him now that you didn’t feel so burdened. 
“I don’t know him very well, but what I’ve seen… he doesn’t know his head from his ass. Is he really gonna leave?”
“I don’t know,” he started, crossing his arms and letting out a small yawn. He’s just as tired as you are. “I think I just bought a few days, maybe more, but who knows.”
“You think he can change his mind?” You relaxed your demeanor in front of him, but kept your head on a swivel just in case
He was so tired, you felt bad for keeping him awake, but you figured these thoughts were weighing heavy on him, and it might be good to get it off his chest. “He’s far too stubborn to do it on his own. We’d all have to raise hell for him to think badly of his own choices.”
You frowned, turning towards the tent of the new, young family… There were already so many problems in their unit. 
“Poor Abigail.” 
She’d be alone, and with a child to take care of. And meanwhile John would be scott free and having the time of his life.
“She’ll be alright, her and the boy. I’ll make sure of it,” he nodded towards where you were staring. “Around the time he started acting up, I told her I’d marry her, be the kid’s father if she wanted me to.”
Your head snapped around to him, and you processed his words. Abigail told you about part of his offer, because you’d given her the same one, sans one detail…
“You’re gonna marry her?” 
“Only if she wants me to, if John leaves.”
Good to know… but not really. It looks to you like John is pretty set in his ways, even if he ends up staying through the week, or even more. 
You nodded to him, but you hated the notion that he could already be promised to another person, even if you had absolutely no plans on pursuing him yourself. It was a small little envious monster that crawled in the pit of your stomach, and for a split second, you felt yourself resenting Abigail, who thus far, had become your closest friend after Arthur. 
“I actually offered the same,” you laughed, shaking your head and kicking your boot into the ground. “Not that it would last, but I just wanted her to know I was willing to help.”
“The whole gang chips in here and there, bein’ a family and whatnot… She’ll never go without help,” he assured, his posture becoming heavier with each minute passing. 
“Yeah,” you cleared your throat and stretched your arms out, faking a massive yawn that looked real enough to pass you off. “It’s probably time we all turn in, huh?” 
For some reason he seemed vaguely sad for the interaction to be over. 
“Just about… I’ll catch you later, then,” he waved you off, heading back to his wagon and you to your tent. Even though they were relatively close, the entry points were on opposite sides.
You fell back into your cot with a heavy exhale. It’s been a long night, and with a crying baby in the camp, it’s looking to be a long next few months. 
-
The next few days were wonderful, despite the ill attitudes of a few grumbly men, Arthur not included. 
Dutch has been going on and on since the birth of the baby that the newest member should be given a worthy name. You assume he suggested his own namesake a few times, but since he’s been nothing but playful about the whole thing, you know he isn’t too bitter when they do finally settle on a name. 
Abigail picked it out, and you understand why. 
John Marston Jr, or as the two have taken to calling him already, Jack. 
You were surprised to see that waking up in the late afternoon the day of the birth, John was being… really different. He was putting in effort to help Abigail, he was making sure the others knew of all the information as it came, and most importantly, he was being positive about the whole situation. You suppose Arthur did knock some sense into him, and it was evident in how he was carrying himself. 
You weren’t sure how long it would last, but you felt relieved. Not only for Abigail, but selfishly, for yourself. If John sticks around and pulls his weight, Arthur doesn’t need to be tied down to a family. Not that he would ever see it that way, but still. 
You didn’t know where you stood with Arthur. He was a dear friend, you knew you could say that by now. You think that maybe the playful banter between you holds more than just friendship, but you can’t be sure, and you’re too damn chicken to test the waters. And obviously, a plain and simple conversation is entirely out of the question, because of ridiculous reasons you don’t care to list off. 
Maybe you’ll never know, and you’ll always be playing the game of ‘will we, won’t we’, unable to come to a sound conclusion. You think you’d be well enough with that, even if you never settle down with anyone. 
It’s a terrible absolute, and you should have never decided on it, but you think that being open ended and in this endless cycle of banter with Arthur is better than being in a committed relationship with anyone else. It makes the one on one interactions with him that much sweeter, though. Like today, when it was both your turns to watch baby Jack. The others were working on something in the town, and Abigail and some of the women were napping, having taken care of him through the night.
“He might be hungry,” you suggested, laughing at Arthur’s attempt to sooth the wailing infant. 
“I get hungry too, y’never see me cryin’ about it,” he was joking, clearly. He shook his head and reached for the glass bottle Miss Grimshaw had prepared this morning. 
Jack fed on the bottle and stopped crying, and in the aftermath, you paused to watch the scene before you. A big, gruff outlaw, with his hair tousled and shirt out of place from tiny hands fisting at it, and relaxed in his arms, a tiny baby being bottle fed. It was such a contradictory picture, but one you couldn’t tear your eyes away from. 
“Cute,” you mumbled, nearly under your breath, but he heard you. 
“He’s somethin’,” he chuckled, a small smile on his face when mentioning the boy he held so close. Arthur was many things, but amongst them was gentle. He was a kind creature by nature, that had only been hardened by experience, and these soft moments let his internal goodness show. 
“I meant you,” you teased, and he rolled his eyes, shaking his head. He didn’t even know how to respond for a second. 
“I’m quite the opposite, but I’ll thank you for the thought.”
As tough as he was, and as rightfully boastful over his skill with a weapon or with his bare hands, he seemed to negate himself often. His intelligence, his artistic talent, his looks, even his presence during group gatherings. It saddened you, and you didn’t even know the root of his struggle.
“Why you always doin’ that?” 
“Doin’ what?” he asked, his head tilted to the side and a narrow look on his face. 
“Bein’ mean to yourself…” you answered, sitting down on the other end of the log he was relaxing against. 
What a treat it would be for Arthur to see himself through your eyes. He’d never think poorly of himself again. 
“M’not, just the truth.” 
And that was even sadder. Who on earth ever convinced this man that he wasn’t good enough? Whoever it was, you’d like them to be on the other side of your pistol’s barrel. 
You huffed out a sigh, leaning forward so he didn’t have to strain his neck to look back at you. 
“Y’know it’s too damn bad, I happen to think you’re a pretty decent person. I pity anyone who thinks otherwise,” you spoke firmly, laying it on thick so that maybe he can come to terms with believing you. 
“Is that so?” 
“Mhm, very much so…”
He looked back down at Jack, trying to distract himself from your complimentary onslaught. He didn’t much care for compliments, so he wasn’t even sure how to receive them, if he accepted them at all. He has a very strong belief system, and it’s constantly just a mantra of things like ‘I am a bad man, I do bad things, I am dangerous, I am getting old, I am ugly,’ and so on. He didn’t understand how much he had hurt himself by forming those beliefs in the first place. 
You sat with him in silence for a few minutes, just watching Jack finish the bottle and settle into Arthur’s arm for a nap. He slept a lot for someone that cries through the night. Hearing the soft cries in the night isn’t peaceful, but it’s better than the anxiety and feeling of dread his cries brought you the first day, when John was set on leaving. 
You keep replaying a moment from that morning in your head, when the sun was just over the ridge, and you were heading to your tent… 
“Arthur?” 
“Yeah?” He turned his head again.
“The day he was born… that argument between you and John,” you wanted to make sure you phrased this correctly, unsure if it was a sensitive topic. “He’d apologized for sayin’ something… Sayin’ that you didn’t do any better? What was he talkin’ about?” 
Arthur took a deep inhale and shifted around in his seat, the ground beneath him feeling like it could cave in just at your words. John had struck deep with what he’d said, but having to rehash it, and with you… it wasn’t a thing he’d ever do for fun, to put it nicely. 
“I mean, him talkin’ about leaving Abigail, and you givin’ her your offer… You’re already better than he is.”
“I wasn’t always,” he shook his head. “Holdin’ him like this, it makes me remember just how terrible I am.”
You sank down from the log and scooted closer to him. No one in camp was around to see, so you didn’t bother looking. His eyes got foggy without even going into detail, so you didn’t push… but he seemed to open up on his own. 
“I had a boy when I was John’s age. Same situation n’ all,” he shook his head, trying to keep his sights on the ground in front of him. The longer he held Jack, the worse this feeling got, but he knew it wouldn’t ever go away, not really. Not with a new and constant reminder of his past. “His momma and I, we didn’t get on too well, so I kept with the gang. Didn’t ever come around except when we passed through that town. Could count on two hands the times I saw my own son…”
You didn’t know what to make of this. He has a son? Does he keep contact with him? You’re unsure if you want to know all the details, because hearing it as is, sounds messy. 
“Where does he live?” 
You had no idea that you’d just asked the worst question in response… but how else were you supposed to know? This was the first you’d heard of Arthur’s son. 
“He uh… he died, about three years ago,” Arthur shook his head, swallowing back the lump in his throat, though his teary eyes persisted. “They both did... I came back one day, and found two crosses in the yard. I asked around, townsfolk said a group of robbers came through and raided several homes.”
“Arthur…” you grabbed his arm gently, trying to convey your sympathy, and your sadness. 
“I knew it had been my fault. If I had been there, my son would be alive, his mother, too.” 
A cloud had rolled over the sun, and shrouded in a temporary shade of darkened light, the mood felt heavier than even his words could convey. This man and his layers, being peeled away before you… it was both touching, and terrible. You had no idea a man was capable of feeling so deeply, of being so open about his past and regrets. You’d never seen a man cry before. 
“Issac and Eliza were their names,” he finally looked at you, tears escaping his eyes at a rapid pace. He let them fall, somehow knowing you wouldn’t judge him for it. “And they aren’t here because of me.” 
You gently raised a hand and wiped his cheeks with your thumb, leaving your hand there for as long as he would let you. 
“I’m so sorry, Arthur…” 
Nothing you could say or do would help to heal his wounds, but you wanted to try. Wanted to be there for him, whatever that meant. You and him got on well. You were friends, but there was competition between you, all a part of your banter. You supposed you’d feel inclined to let him win in any circumstance from now on, just because you couldn’t bear to make him upset. Seeing him this way broke your heart, but it also empowered you in some way. To be more empathetic, and kind, and to not let your anger get the better of you. You’ve proven to him in the past that you were a hot head, no pun intended. You would have to be mindful of letting yourself fly off the hinge to him in the future. 
“Even if John doesn’t leave… I swear I’m gonna do right by this boy,” he let out, his voice trembling but his words were of certainty. 
You felt a tear roll down your own cheek, and did nothing to stop it. This moment, whatever it was, you wanted to feel it. Wanted to keep it buried within the depths of your soul. 
You’ve been on the run for four years now, and in those four years, you’ve been on your own, making some sort of fantasy world for yourself where death was just the thing at the end of a duel, and you never had to pay the toll of those losses. 
You’d not been living in reality, and coming to this gang, meeting Arthur… it must have been preordained. It must have been fate. He himself, day by day, was restoring your humanity, and your ability to feel something that wasn’t just a farce.
“Thank you for telling me,” you whispered, but being so close, he heard you clearly. 
He let out a huff that you suppose was meant to be a soft laugh. “You don’t just hear me, Red… you listen to me. I guess I’ll keep on tellin’ you things.”
And soon both your attentions were pulled back to Jack as he stirred slightly. 
You took a turn holding him while Arthur went to grab some food, and you found you rather liked this particular baby. He was a sweet little thing, not so bratty like the tiny cousins you grew up around. You can only hope he’ll stay this sweet as he grows older. 
-
A month had passed, and John was getting more angsty. 
Arthur was honestly surprised he had lasted this long. It seemed impossible that he stuck around, especially when he had to be the one to take a turn with the baby during the night. 
Fights had broken out with various members of the camp, mostly over John and his unwillingness to help anymore. Dutch had chewed him up and spit him out, and after that, John had made up his mind, for certain this time. 
“You ain’t leavin’, just sit down,” Arthur pulled him back by the shoulder, trying to stop him from packing up and saddling his horse.
“What makes you think I would stay with a bunch of folk who hate me?”
“We don’t hate you, you’re bein’ ridiculous. Sit down, we’ll talk about it.” Arthur tried to reach out for him again, but John pulled himself back and out of the way, two steps from the hitching post. “Boy, you’re not goin’ anywhere-”
“I’m leaving!” John burst out, taking Arthur by surprise. This wasn’t just another hissy fit or tantrum where he would eventually let it stew over. He was really gonna do it. “The kid ain’t mine, I counted back. She’s just try’na tie me down, Arthur... I feel for her, but I ain’t stayin.”
“Need I remind you of the price you’re gonna pay?” 
“She’ll be safe with you. The boy, too. I ain’t leavin’ them in incapable hands.”
“But you’re leaving them,” Arthur reasoned, trying his best to make any last effort to save what could have been, but he knew his found brother would not be changing his mind. His only thought at this point was to beg him to stay. If only because he asked. “Don’t do this. They need you, we need you.”
“You don’t need me, Arthur. You’re the better one, always were…” 
“C’mon now, you know that ain’t true. S’just another excuse,” he waved his arms around, trying to emphasize just how stupid it sounded. Yes, it’s all Arthur’s fault that John is leaving. 
John doesn’t even answer Arthur, he just turns heel and readies his horse, all while the older of the two stands by and ridicules him for what he’s about to do. All John can do is tune him out, and pretend he doesn’t hear the distant crying at the other edge of camp, where Susan is trying to console a tired and emotionally devastated Abigail. Their son sleeps in Tilly’s arms, oblivious to anything happening around him, but what’s to come will put a damper on his previously bright future. 
By the time John is on his horse, loaded up and ready to head out, Arthur grabs hold of his leg, yanking it back from the stirrup. He looks to his eyes one more time, to see if there’s any guilt, any resolve, anything that might show he knows what he’s doing is wrong… but he only sees annoyance and pride. Two things John Marston usually wore on his face. 
“If you leave this camp, you best never come back again, ya hear?” 
And for the first time that night, Arthur saw just a shred of fear in the younger man’s eyes. 
“I hear,” he nodded, the fear turning into sadness in this last moment. “It just ain’t worth it no more.”
And with that, he turned his horse, and left the camp. 
Arthur went storming through the camp after the interaction, needing to find himself a drink. 
-
You were angry and rightfully so, stomping back into camp like a bear hunting its prey. Walking up to the campfire, there were only a few left awake. Pearson and Hosea sat, hunched over and with half full whiskey bottles in their hands. Probably from the stolen stash, the brand was decent.
“Anyone seen Arthur?” You asked them both, knowing that at least Hosea could tell you. 
“He passed out ages ago,” He nodded towards his covered wagon near the trees and rocks separating your space. “John left camp tonight.”
“I know, I caught him outside the saloon,” you sat down by them, reaching out for either bottle they were willing to hand over. “Gimme some of that, will ya?”
And of course, drinking was the solution at the end of the day. 
After a while, Pearson dragged himself to bed, leaving you and Hosea to sit and stew by the fire, milling about your tumultuous thoughts. You should have known he’d ask for details of your run in with John. 
“I was out scouting today… realized I needed to go to town for a pair of socks, mine got holes too big for sewin’,” you began, gaze trapped on the fire, the alcohol making it harder to focus on anything else at once. “Came outside and found him hitchin’ his horse.”
“You were the one who approached him, then?” 
“I thought about just wavin’, I thought I’d be seein’ him back here… but then I looked at his saddle. He was packed up for the trek of a million miles,” you sighed, taking another big swig of the pricey whiskey in your hand. You would finish the bottle in no time if you kept up like this, trying to quench your raging thirst for something strong and potent.
“What did you say to him?” 
“Nothing really, not at first. Just asked how the day had been, how Abigail was. I haven’t been here since this morning. I guess they started fighting real bad after I left. Dutch tore into him, too,” you spoke heavily, suddenly the swigs you were slamming back were making you a bit less understandable. Hosea though, was easily able to listen, because after years of Arthur’s drunk slurring, and having to make out sentences between, he was practically an expert. “All I said was that he shouldn’t leave, because he’ll regret it.”
“And I suppose that didn’t help.”
“Nah, he just told me where to shove it. I think he’s scared… not of the kid, and not of Abigail. I think he doesn’t wanna end up like his father. Arthur’s told me something about it, but in my opinion, he’s trying to get out before the resentment turns to abuse n’ all that.”
“I reckon you're right. We all told him time and again he’d be a good father, but he’s stubborn as they come, and when his mind’s made up… there’s no stopping that boy.” Hosea shook his head once more, his sadness reflecting in the light of the fire. 
“I guess Arthur’s gonna marry Abigail, now…” you knew you were just trailing into your thoughts, and that while getting more drunk, you shouldn’t be saying them out loud… but you couldn’t help it. Selfishly, on your ride back to camp, this is all you thought about. 
“He offered, it’s up to Abigail to accept,” he said gently, raising his brows in thought as well. He doesn’t see it as a good match, but he thinks it’s honorable that Arthur would do such a thing. 
“I hope she doesn’t,” you murmured quietly, but it seems he still heard you. 
“What was that?” 
“Nothing, m’just gettin’ drunk.”
He chuckled under his breath, his side eye remaining on your features just a while longer before he stood up, patting you on the shoulder. 
“Don’t drink too much more. You’ll pass out before making the trip to your tent.”
And then he left you alone. With your thoughts and a bottle of whiskey in hand, who knows what more you could do in a situation like this. It was better to cut your losses and just turn in… so you did. 
Laying down on your cot, you expected sleep to take you. It should have, given how tired you were, but the single notion kept echoing in your head over and over…
Arthur Morgan isn’t mine, and he never was.
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A Guiding Hand 8
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No tag lists. Do not send asks or DMs about updates. Review my pinned post for guidelines, masterlist, etc.
Warnings: this fic will include dark content such as noncon/dubcon, age gap, parental neglect, depression, inference of self harm, violence, abuse, and possible untagged elements. My warnings are not exhaustive, enter at your own risk.
This is a dark!fic and explicit. 18+ only. Your media consumption is your own responsibility. Warnings have been given. DO NOT PROCEED if these matters upset you.
Summary: your online academics are affected by your personal struggles but your professor won’t let you give up so easy.
Characters: Raymond Smith, Lee Bodecker in the background
Note: I am tireddddd.
As per usual, I humbly request your thoughts! Reblogs are always appreciated and welcomed, not only do I see them easier but it lets other people see my work. I will do my best to answer all I can. I’m trying to get better at keeping up so thanks everyone for staying with me.
Your feedback will help in this and future works (and WiPs, I haven’t forgotten those!) Please do not just put ‘more’. I will block you.
I love you all immensely. Take care. 💖
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Professor Smith dresses you in a set of pajamas; white with blue stripes. They’re not your size, you assume they might be his. You’re not sure. You’re too woozy to think about much more than your throbbing hand. 
He lays you in the hotel bed as you shake uncontrollably. You’re freezing cold but he keeps touching your forehead and saying you’re burning up. How can that be when you can’t get warm? 
Your lashes flutter between glimpses of him pacing and sitting on the edge of the bed. When all is dark, you see his shadow beside you. His breathing suggests he’s asleep but you can’t tell. He’s up again as a halo of light shines around you. The lamp limns his figure as he pets your cheek. 
“Sweetheart, shh, you’re alright,” he coos, “no need to cry.” 
You’re crying? Why? You can’t remember. Your mind is a bubble of fractured thoughts and vague scenes. You can’t make scene of much between the visions of this man. 
“Fever’s broke,” he lays a wet cloth over your brow. “Very good. We’ll be off in the morning, won’t we?” 
“Mom?” You murmur in confusion. 
“Mm, let’s take one step at a time before all that, yes?” He caresses your cheek with his thumb. “Back to sleep.” 
He shuts off the light and you’re cast into grim blackness. His weight jostles the bed and you feel him spread out next to you. The bed is more than large enough for you both. 
“Professor,” you croak weakly. “What’s...” 
“In the morning,” he girds. 
You accept it, “sorry.” 
“Never be sorry,” he reaches over to squeeze your arm lightly.  
You lay in silence. Your eyes close on their own. You are completely drained. You sink down into a solid void that suffocates away all light and life. When you awake again, you’re alone. You might think it was all a dream if it wasn’t for the bright hotel walls. 
You remain as you are. You don’t have the energy to get up. You lift your hand and look at the bandage wrapped around it. It feels better and your fingers aren’t swollen. You bend them. It still hurts. 
The door opens and you drop your arm. You squeak at the pain. 
“Sweetheart, is all well?” Raymond rushes over, a tray in his hand. “I was only meaning to fetch some of the complimentary breakfast before we depart.” 
You blink and shake your head, “fine. I’m... fine.” 
“I hope you like coffee--” 
“Coffee?” You whimper and close your eyes. “Coffee...” you mutter. “I went to get coffee and...” 
“Yes, that fiend meant to attack you. You see, I did not come without purpose. How could I sit back and see you neglected?” 
“You don’t... I don’t know... you.” 
“Hush, hush, you must be hungry,” he insists. “It is good to eat. You are weak from the infection still. You must take care--” 
“My mom--” you look at him. 
He sucks in air and his jaw tenses. He steels himself and his fingers twitch. “Yes, a woman who allows her own daughter be abused.” 
“She... she couldn’t stop him--” 
“She should not bring the beast home with her,” he snips. “Please, you would not survive in such an environment.” 
“Why... would you come here?” 
He exhales and his eye bats, as if he can’t control it. “Why wouldn’t I after what I witnessed? Then you would not answer. I had half a suspicion you were dead.” 
“I’m sorry, I... didn’t mean to worry you but... it’s not your problem.” 
He hums and set the tray on the night stand. He offers a cup of coffee, “are you so used to being forgotten that you cannot accept kindness?” 
“No, it isn’t... I’m sorry.” 
“And the apologies. No need for it. I am not admonishing you. I am merely offering advice.” He takes your good hand and makes you take the cup. “There is much more you need to learn than accounting, I gather.” 
You frown and look at the dark coffee. 
“If you prefer milk or sugar, I grabbed some of each,” he explains and gestures to the tray. “Of course, you shouldn’t drink that in bed else you might stain the sheets.” 
“Oh, yeah,” you push the blankets back and move carefully. 
The pajamas brush against your stomach and you look down. You’re reminded of the day before. Naked in the tub. In front of him. You’ve never been so exposed before. You slump your shoulders and go to the table and sit. 
You look down at your burnt hand and bring up to examine the bandage again, “thank you...” you raise it higher. 
“Certainly. And who wouldn’t see to the festering infection? Are you not concerned that not even your own mother cared for that matter?” 
“Can we not talk about her?” You sniffle and rest your hand in your lap. “You should take me home.” 
“Home? That is no home. Now, you should eat. Keep your strength up so you can heal properly.” He girds. 
You nod and take a cautious sip of coffee. You’re still reeling, maybe even slightly delirious. You set the cup down again and lift your chin. You look at his neck, not his face. 
“Why?” You ask. 
“Why...” He echoes as he sits across from you. 
“Why help me?” 
He takes a packet of sanitizing wipes and uses them to clean the cutlery. You watch his diligent work. Everything he does is precise and purposeful. And cleanly. He seems to detest the thought of dirtiness and yet you can only feel like filth next to him. 
“Well, it should be a question, should it? It is humane. Decent. So, I shouldn’t need to name the reason for it.” He lays down each piece before he sets to claiming a muffin, then a scoop of the scrambled eggs, and strips of bacon with sausage too. “Though if you insist, I will give one. Firstly, let us underline that point. What you need, what you want, I would be more than willing to supply, but then, circle around to your query; why should I help you?” 
He takes the rest of the cutlery and wipes it then hands it to you. He makes you up a plate as he continues, “you, sweetheart, have great potential. I’ve seen it. And that would be spoiled all for a poor foundation. Now that is not your own doing, mind you, you cannot help where you come from, and more admirably,” he sets the plate before you, “you were fighting against it and so I only thought to lower the ladder for you.” 
You blink and focus on the food. You’re not very hungry. You feel slightly queasy but you would hate to be ungrateful. All these questions already make you feel so.  
“Thank you,” you croak and make yourself look at him. “Really...” 
You don’t know how to say it. You already feel pathetic and you don’t need to sink further. No one’s ever been that concerned about you. No one ever tried to help you. Most people just laughed, called you names, or pushed you down themselves. 
“Please, don’t trouble yourself very much, eh? I have the means to help. It would be selfish not to. A sort of passing the torch. I wasn’t born to wealth myself, or peace. Life can be a war on its own,” he gives a gentle smile beneath his thick beard. “Oh, and I did take some clothing from your home before our flight. I was able to use the hotel laundry. It should suffice, though I hardly trust their cleaning staff.” 
“Yes, sir,” you answer. 
“Raymond, please,” he corrects you. 
📓
Professor Smith, or Raymond as he insists, drives you across the city. He turns in the car at the rental place then leads you into the train station a block away. He’s patient, not hurrying you, and he pays for your ticket and his. You feel guilty for the expense. 
As you sit and wait on the platform, you fidget. You chew your lip and curl your fingers, the burn stinging beneath the bandages. 
“Are you well?” He checks in. He does every now and then. 
“Um, yes...” you look at the tracks, “I’ve never been on a train.” 
“A first, very exciting,” he muses. 
You nod and let your eyes wander. You’re nervous but too much to ask what makes you so. He moves so his leg is against yours. 
“Your hand?” He prompts. 
“It’s feeling better,” you assure.” 
“Very well.” He sits back and puffs out through his nose, “we will go to my home. You can recover there and when you feel up to it, we will go over your last assignment and see you through the course--” 
“Professor-- Raymond,” you sputter as you face him. “You don’t have to do all this.” 
“I am not a man who does things he doesn’t wish to,” he replies. “I’ve explained myself enough. It is unacceptable to me to let you return to where I found you. I couldn’t allow you in such an unsafe circumstance. Especially after what I witnessed.” 
“It-- he just yelled, that’s all.” You murmur. 
“Is that all? He had nothing to do with this?” He points to your hand. 
You shrink and shake your head. He clucks. 
“You are honest and so you are a poor liar. What I saw was more than yelling, sweetheart. You will not convince me otherwise. I know, this is a peculiar situation, but it is your way out,” he says, “tell me, you never thought of it.” 
Your lack of response is enough of one. Your eyes are hot, and your mouth is dry. Your leg jiggles restlessly. 
A lull rises as the chatter of others rolls through the platform. Soon, you hear the whine of metal on metal, and a bright beam shines from the tunnel. The train speeds through and grinds to a stop.  
You follow Raymond’s every move. When he stands, you stand. As he grabs his bag, you go to do the same but he has it in hand first. He gestures you ahead of him. You reluctantly approach the train. 
“The second from the front,” he instructs from behind. “I’ve our tickets.” 
You follow his direction. You’re good at that. As a professor, he’s just as good at giving orders. As you approach the waiting attendant, he reaches around to hand over the tickets. The woman in her uniform tears of the ends and hands them back. 
You step onto the small metal footstool and then climb the stairs of the train car. You pause as he puts your bags into the netted caddy near the front. He urges you on with another point and recites the seat numbers. You find them and stare at the row. 
“Would you like window or aisle?” He tucks away the tickets. 
“Mm, what do you like?” You ask. 
“Please, have the window. You did say it’s your first,” he insists. 
You duck your head and sit. He lowers himself next to you and slips a bottle from inside his jacket. He pops the cap open and offers it quietly. You glance over at the sanitizer. You don’t want to be rude so you put your unbandaged hand out. He dollops it into your palm, then his own, and puts it away. 
He rubs his palms together and you sanitize around your bandage and your uninjured hand. You sit back and look out at the platform. He’s a very stringent man but you might only think so because you’re used to no rules at all. He’s thorough too. He seems to think of everything.  
You look at him but think better of asking what you want to. He catches your glance before you can turn back. He shifts toward you, leaning on the outer armrest. 
“Go on,” he urges, “you can say whatever you need.” 
“Sorry, it’s nothing.” 
“Please,” he opens his hand encouragingly. 
You drop your eyes and wet your lips. You’re going to sound so dumb. “Do you really think I could... I could do something? Like you? Like... like... accounting?” 
He chuckles softly. It’s not mocking or mean. It’s soothing. 
“I do believe so,” he says. “You needn’t fret. Let yourself time to heal, then all that will come after.” 
You sniff and sit back. You don’t know if you agree with him, but you’ll try. That’s all you can do. It’s what you should do after he’s gone to all this effort. 
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doitforbangchan · 2 days
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Hey honey bun! I know you’re not taking requests right now but I just can’t get over Seungminnie in ABANB😩 I’ve read fics where he was “mean” but nothing has really giving me what he did in it😅
Could you, when you can give us a little short fic of him & baby? If not that’s fine.
ok ok, i have also been craving abanb minnie! thank you for reading nonnie 😘
ABANB drabble 03
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‘ I will love you for all eternity, my beloved gem.’
‘And I, you my lord.’ The maiden breathed harshly as she professed her love to the knight. But alas she knew she could never be with her handsome knight for it was forbid-
Suddenly the book was yanked out of your hands, just as it was getting good too!
“What are you reading, puppy?” Seungmin laughed at your surprised face. You had been so engrossed in your book you didn’t even notice him enter the room. He looked at the cover and raised his brow, “ ‘A Knight to remember’, huh? What kind of sappy shit is this?” The beta began to flip through the pages.
“Minnniieee noooo I don’t have it bookmarked and I don’t know what page I’m on!” You whined, leaping out of your seat on recliner and attempting to grab your book from him.
He only laughed harder and held the book over your head. Seungmin tilted his head up to read some random exert off the pages while you still jumped up trying to reach it.
“ Ooohh I get it, this is a naughty book. ‘The knight crooked his thick, rough appendages inside the slicked cavern of the maiden until he touched her most delicate spot’, I didn’t know you were into this kinda thing puppy.” He snickered.
You gave him a pout, jutting your lip out and crossing your arms, trying to ignore the way your face heated up at his teasing (and at having been caught reading a smutty book).
“It’s just a story..” you mumbled, “doesn’t mean I’m into anything.”
“Don’t pretend with me, little omega. I know just how dirty you can get. Do I need to remind you what you let me do to you last night?” Minnie smirked at how you gulped as you remembered how sore you were this morning.
“No, I remember well enough.” You grabbed the book from out of his hands when he lowered it. “I still can’t walk straight.”
“You’re welcome.” The beta grinned, cackling when you hit him lightly with the book. “Bad dog, that’s not how you treat someone who has a present for you.”
“A present for me?” You asked cautiously.
He nodded, “yeah. What, did you think I came in here just to bother you for no reason?”
“Yes.” You deadpanned.
Seungmin put a hand on his heart in mock hurt, “You wound me baby. No but for real I have something for you.”
He held out a hand for you to take and you did, putting your smaller one in his. The beta led you up to his room and closed the door behind him.
“Ok, close your eyes.” You could hear the smirk on his voice but you did as he asked anyway. There was a slight rustling then you felt something wrap gently around your neck. “There you go, now you look like a real puppy.”
You opened your eyes and reached up to feel that he had placed a choker on your neck. Looking in the mirror it was a thick corded band that was dark pink and it had a little pendant hanging from the front. And it had the name ‘baby’ etched into it.
“you.. you actually got me a collar?”
He shrugged, now feeling slightly nervous that this was a bad idea. That was until you launched yourself at him, wrapping your arms around his neck and burying your face into his skin, inhaling his petrichor scent.
“Do you like it?”
You nodded, trying not to cry. It was a sweet gesture even if it was a little.. possessive. “I do. thank you Mongie!”
He groaned, “ughhh don’t call me that!” But the pink dusting his cheeks told you he secretly liked it.
You giggled and wiped away your tears, “I love it. thank you minnie. And i love you.” You placed a kiss on his lips, squealing when his teeth nipped at yours playfully.
“I love you too, baby. so much. Also you were on page 212. Just so you know. ”
You smiled with hearts in your eyes at him, making him want to look away in embarrassment. You looked back in the mirror and looked closer at the ‘collar’. It was cute, and no one would suspect the intention behind it unless you told them. At least that’s that you thought until you looked at the back side of the pendant.
“Seungmin.. Did you seriously put your name and number on the opposite side?!”
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The Diary of Tom Riddle- Diary! Tom Riddle x Reader - P3
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pairing: Tom riddle x Fem reader
warnings: Horcruxes, Manipulation, Tom being Tom, side effects of being possessed.
summary: 16-year-old (y/n) finds a mysterious black book on the floor of after it slips out of Ginny Weasleys caldron, curious, she picks it up and keeps it-which leads to one thing after another and discovers the book is far more than it seems.
-Part 1- -Part 2- -Part 4-
=
Thankfully, as she woke up, (y/n) hadn't moved from her bed throughout the night. She sighed and slowly sat up, rubbing her face, drawing back the curtains of her bed, seeing her roommates all up and getting dressed for the day. It was a Sunday, so it was Hogsmeade day for years 3 and up.
Hogsmeade sounded fun.
(y/n) looked at the diary and grabbed it, popping open her ink well and grabbing her quill, flipping open a book to the now blank page she’d been writing in the night before.
“Morning Tom.”
Tom took a moment to respond, her ink disappearing into the page as his elegant scrawl appeared in its place.
‘Good morning (y/n), did you sleep well?’
“yes I did, thankfully. Woke up where I should be too, in my bed.”
‘Very good. Are you feeling better?’
“yeah, much better, thank you. Im going to go to Hogsmeade today, would you like to come with?”
‘Well, I wouldn’t be able to do much, would I?’
(y/n) hummed in thought, Tom had a point, as he could only see what she wrote/illustrated in the book.
“good point, but I could maybe bring you to the bookstore there and get some ink you’d like?”
‘I don’t eat the ink (y/n)’
“not what I meant but that’s a very funny visual thank you.”
(y/n) giggled to herself, imagining the book eating the ink instead of just absorbing it to write back to her.
“I meant like, would you like some fancy ink? I saved up some money from my allowance and can get some good ink from the store if you would prefer it?”
‘How…generous of you, (y/n)’
“thank you :)”
Tom took a very long moment to respond, as if he was thinking long and hard about her offer. Finally, after a few minutes, he wrote back-though he did so while (y/n) was getting dressed for her outing to Hogsmeade, putting on an oversized sweater for maximum comfort.
‘I suppose it couldn’t hurt if you brought the diary along, I certainly don’t mind good inks to write with, I myself was never able to afford more than the most basic brands.’
(y/n) tilted her head a bit, a smile growing on her face. Tom was opening up to her a bit! Okay-play it cool-don’t overreact.
“aww really?”
‘I don’t need your pity (y/n)’
Oops.
“not pity! Im sorry! Just…idk”
‘What in the merlin does ‘idk’ mean?’
“Oh-I don’t know-its an abbreviation.”
‘Why don’t you just write ‘I don’t know’, it’s not hard?’
“idk, just easier.”
She felt like she could hear him sigh, which made her giggle and she finished getting dressed before writing to him again.
“okay okay, im going to go eat, ill be back to grab you before everyone heads out to Hogsmeade.”
Tom didn’t respond so (y/n) closed the diary and put it back on her bedside table, capping her ink well and cleaning her quill before leaving her room, heading out to the great hall for breakfast.
-
Hogsmeade, thankfully, took the rest of the events from the night before off (y/n)’s mind as she went from store to store, starting at the book store and writing down ink brands and types to Tom, who eventually picked out a non-expensive India ink, but it was definitely more costly than the usual ink she got.
She closed the diary and put it back in her bag, taking the new ink to the front and buying it, the shopkeep wrapping it in paper and then giving it to her in a paper bag.
She counted how much money she had left as she walked down the main path of the village, nodding to herself as she pocketed the coins. She had enough to do someday after Halloween candy shopping.
She hopped straight into Honeydukes, where loads of other students were buying their own discounted candy, and quickly got some candies that were under the discount.
Including a bag of candy corn, and it was the type made in shop-which was even better.
“What is it with you and candy corn (n/n)?” one of her friends that had accompanied her to Hogsmeade asked teasingly, attempting to steal one of the candies (y/n) had bought.
“It’s good!” (y/n) defended the candy, holding the box to her chest. She knew candy corn wasn’t a worldly liked candy-but it was hers and her dad's favorite, so it not only tasted good to her, but it also was nostalgic.
(y/n)’s friend snickered, taking a caramel apple lollipop from (y/n)’s bag full of discounted Halloween candy. (y/n) rolled her eyes, the two catching up with the rest of their friends, hanging out at the three broomsticks for a while before heading back to the castle.
Upon getting back to her dorm room, (y/n) poured out the candy onto her bed and spread it out, sorting it and eating a few pieces here and there as she separated the chocolates from the hard candies, and the lollipops from the taffy.
She took out the diary and the new well of ink, opening the wax around it and setting it aside, testing the ink on her actual notebook before writing to Tom.
“back from Hogsmeade! Using the new ink as well :)”
‘I can tell, it’s far smoother than the ink you were using before.’
“I’m glad you like it! I also got a lot of candy from honeydukes, they were having a day after Halloween sale, I got nearly 5 pounds of candy for one galleon.”
‘Sweet tooth?’
“big one.”
(y/n) smiled brightly as she continued her conversation with Tom, which turned to her asking Tom what his favorite candy was…is.
‘I haven't tried much candy if I must be honest, though I do like treacle tarts.’
“yum, those are pretty good”
“great now Im craving treacle tart thanks Tom.”
‘You’re welcome, (y/n)’
­-
(y/n) happily painted on some Slytherin green and silver face paint onto her cheeks, today was the first quidditch game of the year, and the Slytherin team had gotten a new seeker-the spoiled as fuck Draco Malfoy, who everyone knew bribed his way in but he still wasn’t a terrible flyer-and brand new brooms.
The whole Slytherin house was excited, ready to win the first match of the season against Gryffindor, since they hadn’t won a game against Gryffindor since Harry Potter joined the team the year before.
“You almost ready (y/n)?!” her friend called from the bathroom as she herself finished her makeup.
“Yeah!” (y/n) said, hopping to her feet after pulling away from her desk mirror. “I’m all done!” she wrapped a scarf around her neck and hooked her arm with her friends and they all went down to the quidditch pitch together, the roar of excitement already humming through the stands.
The game started quickly after that and it was exciting! The Slytherins were walloping the Gryffindors easily-quickly overtaking them 90-30. (y/n) whistled and cheered for her team, throwing her fists into the air with each score. “Woah what the fuck?!” she heard her friend suddenly exclaim and (y/n) turned to see where she was looking, her brows furrowing as a bludger began to deliberately chase Harry Potter.
“Is that a rouge bludger??” (y/n) said, her lip curling in confusion. “What the hell they’re like-impossible to tamper??” (y/n) and her friend stopped paying attention to the game as a whole, watching in near horror as Harry was chased around by a bludger.
The Weasley twins tried to bat it away from him but it kept coming back.
“that’s not good-we should tell a teacher-“ (y/n) stuttered, turning to head off the stands, maybe catch Madam Hooch’s attention and stop the game before someone got hurt. (y/n)’s friend nodded and followed her through the crowd of Slytherins and down the stands.
Just as they reached Madam Hooch, the bludger had slammed into Harry’s arm as he reached for the snitch and he hit the dirt soon after; though he had the snitch in hand, Gryffindor had won the game. “Oh shit,” (y/n) muttered under her breath, looking at Harrys very broken arm, as Madam Hooch blew the whistle, ending the game.
The Weasley twins somehow caught the tampered bludger, getting it back into the box and locking it down. Madam Hooch instantly saw to it, and while that all happened-the idiot Lockhart…erm…mended Harry’s arm.
“Ew,” (y/n) muttered as her friend gagged at the rubber look Harry’s arm had taken. Lockhart hadn’t mended shit; he’d removed Harry’s bones!
“That is so nasty,” (y/n)’s friend muttered, and (y/n) nodded in agreement, heading back to the castle after Headmaster Dumbledore told everyone the match was over and to head back to the castle while Harry, and any other injured players, went to Madam Pomfrey.
“Gotta be honest, Gryffindor deserved that win, I mean-odds stacked against them, with those new brooms and that bloody bludger, they won. Shame Potter’s arm got broken for it though.” (y/n)’s friend ranted as they walked back to the common room, (y/n) nodding in agreement. “I have to wonder who tampered the bludger? I mean Madam Hooch checks them right before the game, and if it wasn’t tampered then, how could’ve someone hexed it within the minutes before the game began?”
(y/n) shrugged as her friend continued to rant. “Maybe someone tampered with it mid-game? Because it wasn’t doing it at first, if it was tampered with before the game-it would’ve gone after Harry straight away? Wouldn’t it?” (y/n) suggested, walking into the common room after several other students and her friend nodded, tapping her chin.
“That does sound logical, though I’m not sure how or why anyone would do that, I mean-he’s just a 12-year-old kid? Who’d want to charm a bloody iron magic ball to hurt him?” (y/n) shrugged in response to her friend's rhetorical question.
“Someone fucked up,” (y/n) answered anyway and her friend sighed, the two entering their dorm room. Her friend went to wipe the Slytherin-themed makeup off her face while (y/n) went to her bed and grabbed the diary.
“Potter almost got killed by a bludger at the quidditch match today.”
(y/n) could almost feel the sense of ‘!!?!?!’ from Tom as he hurriedly wrote back to her.
‘Who starts a conversation like that? also what? how? I never liked Quidditch but I’m sure those Quidditch gear chests are impossible to get into?’
“that’s what I said, I think someone jinxed it mid game because it wasn’t going after him at first.”
‘How odd. And it was going after Potter specifically?’
“yeah! Only him, the Weasley twins kept batting it away from him but it would go right back after Potter. Its really weird.”
‘I cannot tell you it isn’t, because it is very odd.’
“yeah”
(y/n) perked up as her friend came back out of the bathroom. “I’m going to go get lunch, you coming?” her friend asked and (y/n) nodded.
“Yeah, lemme just wash my face,” (y/n) said, looking back down at the diary and telling Tom she had to go, setting the book down on the bedside table and going into the bathroom to wash her face.
-
(y/n) woke up very late that night, a ringing in her ears as she opened her eyes, feeling kinda nauseous. She groaned lightly, realizing she’d fallen off her bed, her head pounding as she attempted to get up, pressing her palms to her eyes as they ached.
“What the fuck,” she muttered, rubbing her face. She’d never fallen off her bed before, but considering the odd dream she had-she wasn’t surprised. She eventually got to her feet after the nausea had passed and climbed back into bed, yawning.
She laid back down, but couldn’t get back to sleep. Her mind kept going back to that odd dream. She had been walking through the halls of Hogwarts, at what seemed to be a late hour, and went into one of the bathrooms and…spoke a strange language-a hissing language, and the…sink had come apart??? After that she woke up, having fallen off her bed mid weird dream.
She huffed and drew the curtains around her bed, grabbing her wand, the diary, and her quill. “Lumos,” (y/n) murmured and the tip of her wand began to glow and she opened the diary, flipping through pages and pages of notes, and doodles.
She dipped her quill and began to write to Tom.
“I fell out of my bed,”
‘And why is that so important to tell me? It’s late I’m sure, you should be asleep.’
“you’re right but I cant get back to sleep, I had a weird dream and woke up after falling out of my bed, which ive never done”
“or at least I havent done since I was a kid?”
‘Interesting. What was your dream about if I may ask?’
(y/n) wrote down what she remembered from the dream, and then added a small detail she hadn’t realized till now.
“it felt like I was having an out of body experience, or like I was watching through someone elses eyes? You get what I mean?”
‘I suppose I do, though im sure there’s nothing to worry about, everyone has odd dreams sometimes.’
“have you ever had an odd dream?”
‘Yes, I’m not divulging that information though, you’ll tease me relentlessly about it.’
“no I wont!”
(y/n) huffed as Tom didn’t respond, and she could imagine the expression of ‘sure you wont’ on his face. She wished she knew wha the looked like…wait maybe she could find him in the gallery! He did say he was a prefect in his time, maybe there was a picture somewhere of the 1942-1943 prefects.
“you’re no fun.”
‘Go to sleep (y/n),’
“fiiiine, goodnight Tom.”
‘Goodnight, (y/n)’
-
“A first year got petrified?!” (y/n) asked in a hushed tone, her eyes wide as she gripped her friend's hand tightly as they walked to breakfast Monday morning.
“Yeah, apparently it happened Saturday night, or well, early Sunday morning if you think about it that way-but Professor Dumbledore found him in the middle of the night-just-stone still, petrified.” (y/n)’s friend rambled and (y/n) frowned, squeezing her friend’s hand tighter.
Early Sunday morning…she’d had that weird dream and fell out of her bed Sunday morning.
“What time did the first year get petrified?” (y/n) asked and her friend shrugged.
“Dunno, I’m only telling you what I heard from the grapevine, all I know is Sunday morning, a first year got petrified.” (y/n) huffed nervously in response, swallowing harshly, that weird feeling of paranoia returning to her gut.
Just a coincidence, just a coincidence. It had to be; besides, she’d just fallen out of her bed this time, she hadn’t sleepwalked, she hadn’t even left her dorm room.
…right?
-
“I’m leaving.” (y/n) huffed as dumbass Lockhart came onto the long dueling stage that was set up lengthwise in the great hall, replacing the house tables. Her friend grabbed her arm as she attempted to escape, tugging her towards the edge of the stage-making them be front and center.
“Oh, come on (y/n)~ it’ll be fun!” her friend said cheerfully, she’d didn’t understand why (y/n)…disliked ‘Professor’ Lockhart, even thinking he was hot.
It was one of the few things (y/n) vehemently disagreed with her on.
“it’ll be cringe as fuck that’s what it’ll be.” (y/n) grumbled, crossing her arms as she pouted. She expected maybe Professor Flitwick to be the head of the dueling club, but noooo it had to be the obvious fake Lockhart.
Though-Professor Snape had agreed to…help Lockhart in a demonstration, and that, was going to be fun.
(y/n) couldn’t help the peal of laughter that came from her as Snape sent Lockhart across the dueling stage, her friend gasping as Lockhart landed with a thump. “Is he okay?” her friend asked and (y/n) just snickered with the rest of the Slytherin members of the club.
“Who cares? That was funny.” (y/n) chuckled, smirking as her friend gave her a glare. After that everyone got paired into groups, Lockhart nearly putting the little 1st and 2nd years with the 5th and 6th years attending, Snape correcting that mistake and putting (y/n) against a fellow 6th-year Slytherin, though (y/n) hardly knew his name.
“Remember, disarm only!” Lockhart said and (y/n) rolled her eyes, bowing her to dueling partner with her wand at her side and then holding it out in front of her, her other arm over her head for balance.
The dueling began moments later, and spells shot out of their wands every other moment. (y/n) began with the disarming charm, expelliarmus, but her opponent blocked it and returned with a Stupefy. (y/n) went to block but it felt like she wasn’t in control of herself anymore, she stepped to the side-avoiding the spell-and held out her wand in a grip that wasn’t her own.
“Relashio!” With a wave of her wand her dueling opponent was forced to drop their wand and then (y/n) twirled her wand again. “Depulso!” A blast of white magic flew towards her dueling opponent and they flew back, hitting the ground with a loud thud.
There was an intense satisfaction that ran deep in her bones for a split moment, and an odd feeling to finish her opponent off-but that quickly went away and (y/n) pocketed her wand, rushing over to her dueling partner. “Are you okay?” (y/n) asked, offering her hand and her dueling partner chuckled painfully, rubbing their lower back as she helped them stand.
“I’m okay-that was wicked casting though,” (y/n) only nodded in response, licking her teeth as the dueling groups were stopped, a green haze in the air from the dueling 2nd years. She began to leave the great hall as Potter and Malfoy began to duel, only stopping when she heard a strange hissing coming from the stage.
She turned, the hissing sounding too familiar, coming from Potter as he…hissed at a black snake? Her ears began to ring, her vision going a bit blurry as she stared at Potter, the boy hissing at the snake before Snape destroyed it.
What the fuck?
That was the same hissing she’d heard in her dream on Sunday.
-end of p3-
im very happy with this part and i hope you guys are too-taglist!!!
@dracosslxt4eva @dream-your-own-way @slaggylemon
@slytherinbackintomyroom @starryhiraeth @larallott
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