#i miss being in the dorm at least its warm there Explore tagged Tumblr posts

[offorestsongs]

sorry for not posting much these past few days, i am currently like a christmas dish that's been put in the freezer for later

[asheepinfrance]

I Can Be Good.

an: for @jesuistrestriste <3 i hope you enjoy angel. special thanks to those who proof read.

tag list: @glassmermaids, @artstennisracket

It was always meant to be you. Soul aflame, eyes aglow you. The girl with the Adidas sponsorship before ever going pro. The one with an encyclopedic of all things tennis. You moved like the only thing pumping your blood, getting your body to push off its own weight, was the desire to win. And win you did. Constantly. Mercilessly. Inevitably. A goddess in salty residue of physical toll and crystalline trophies, cool against warm hands, tacky with perspiration. No one had it like you did. You were more enigma than girl for a period of time, a glorious slice of years, moving with the quiet confidence of someone who knew the world spun at the angle at which you tilted your head. The wind existed to carry you where it was needed, to splay out your hair in the waves that framed your face best, and everyone else? They watched, breath bated, and were grateful for it. 

The world got to watch you move from the stands, but Art? He got those little moments of softness, that whisper of a girl outside of tennis that no one else got but him. He’s not sure what’d made him stick out amongst the sea of wishful thinkers and hopeless romantics begging at your feet, perhaps it was his own athletic prowess, or maybe it was the way he watched you like a dog admiring an owner. Whenever his adoring gaze caught yours, your shoulders loosened a little bit, almost imperceptibly. But he perceived everything there was to find in you, even that buried softness behind the jagged edges of a woman unused to being seen as anything but a competitor. He remembers seeing it most the first time you’d stayed the night, the day before a match you were bound to win. Unimpressive school, somewhere in Northern Cali, little miss country club, a few wins tacked under her belt. You’d barely gotten past 9pm before resting your head in the crook of his elbow, and he felt the puffs of your breath against his skin even out with time. It was the first time he’d seen your eyebrows without a furrow in the middle. The next morning, you’d kicked him out to get your pre-game rituals started, despite it being his dorm, and hell, he was just holding on to the feeling of your hair pressed into his skin, the slight indentations from it forming in red. He liked both ends of the spectrum. No one really encompassed the elegance and the aggression of tennis the way you did.

And despite it all, it wasn’t you. Not after that stupid Pepperdine match, against some nobody girl from some nobody suburb, flailing to return shots and lacking all the swanlike grace required of a real player. She’d only managed to get in one good shot. One move which your body rejected, one it’d made countless times, and this time chose to turn down. You’ve replayed it at least a million times, like a film reel stuck in place, in moments of quiet. Staring at the reflection in the mirror and seeing jagged, fading marks, dots where the needle had entered and exited for the sutures, coaching Art through a backhand, an orgasm, a periodical show of human emotion. Art knows it, too. In fact, he remembers the injury like it was yesterday. He swears it might have been, sometimes. Patrick somewhere distant, stewing, self-pitying, probably in the right. You, elegant, monstrous, divine, his if he closed his eyes tight. Angelic, and then fallen. A torn ACL is fairly common amongst athletes. It’s not something unheard of, one of those unfortunate truths everyone lets out a sigh for. But those types of stupid, needless injuries only ever happen to the teenagers with aspirations they’d never truly reach, the professionals whose skin begins to sag. Why you? Why had it been you?

He figured he could rectify things. Fix it. Fix you. Become you, even, just so you felt like the best part of you hadn’t died before ever leaving infancy. On some days, when the tiles beneath his feet still carry the chill of a night not dark enough, a dusky purple as opposed to a deep ink, he finds himself making his coffee the way you like. The way he can’t, what with the strict diet you’ve created alongside his nutritionist, his personal PT, his endless amounts of random specialized who-ever-the-hells who have collectively determined he has to live without joy to make you feel any. It’s unfair. It’s what he signed up for. It’s what kills him when he dumps every sweet, caffeinated drop down the spiral of a kitchen sink. It’s what makes the racket in his hand feel like grabbing a knife by the wrong end. But still, you smile at him when he does good by you. He’s learned to associate being declared victor with the rush of serotonin he gets when he catches your eye in the stands. You smile, slightly, like it hurts, but it’s his. He did well. Good Art. Fixing things. Making it whole. Doing as he should. 

Winston-Salem had been a challenge, that’s for certain, even when it shouldn’t have been. Some nobody player, new to the circuit and still frightened of the Art Donaldson, certain that a list of championship titles and a reputation that chokes holds the power a body does. Still, he lost. One of those brown, rusting flecks in a sea of pure, victorious, hard-fought gold. Art had always found himself preferential to silver in his daily life, if the simple band coiled around his finger signalled anything. He’d tried, mostly because you’d know if he didn’t. He hauled himself to the showers afterwards like he had something to prove, something worth fighting back against. When the water came down, he just sat against the tile for a while, ignoring the strands of hair that weren’t his and the dried soap scum and dead skin clinging to the walls like sin. He found cold felt good here, like a hug from something he’d had once. He started liking that feeling more and more as he got older. The press of a cloth to his forehead in a room lit by orange lamplight, the sputter of California rain, the flecks of spit that meet his forehead where it detaches from your teeth, usually after a game gone poorly.

Perhaps that’s why he’s so nervous around you tonight, stretched out on the couch and glaring at today’s footage, rewinding every so often to note a slightly misangled wrist, a foot turned outwards too far, teeth gritting like you’d intimidate the screen into changing the inevitable result. But what scares him most is the silence, drawn in, hair over your eyes and frightening. If you yelled, at least the tension would have something to snap for. Now, he has to be the one to gently push at the frayed ends of your peace.

“I tried my best, you know.”

He hears a sharp intake of breath, and your eyes meet his more through your brow bone than your lashes. 

“Wasn’t good enough.”

His shoulders sink a bit, a sigh leaving for as long as it takes for his posture to hang limp and loose. Maybe that’s true, slightly. Maybe he feels bad for lying. You both know he could easily do better. Most of all, he feels bad for having an opinion that you don’t share.

“I guess-… I guess that’s what I wanted to talk about.”

He waits for a reply, a backhand to the cheek, a glance, any sign that you can focus on more than his having failed you. He shifts left foot to right, right foot to left, more than a little childish in nature, bent inwards at the knee. He watches you lay down your pencil, parallel to the end of your notebook’s page, turn your head just enough to see him dance around himself. Unimpressed, impatient, waiting still. 

“I don’t know if I’ll ever really be at my best again. And it’s not your coaching, or my ability, it’s just-”

You nod, brief, curt, stick a finger up to silence him.

“So, you have one bad game and you’re just done? That’s it? Art, I knew you weren’t a fan of losing, but frankly this is fucking pathetic.”

You’re smart enough to know that isn’t true. He knows you’re just saying it. He recognizes the anxious twitch of your lips rolling over each other, the tic in your jaw, the way your collarbone pops out just a bit more to make the dip a bit less shallow. 

“It’s not that, and you know it. I’m just… I’m not a teenager anymore. I wanted this kind of life then, when all I really had to care about was being the best at what I do. And I’ve got that now. Now, I just want to be someone’s husband, you know?”

“You are someone’s husband. You’re also my responsibility.”

He hates that. Feels like a burden more than a choice being made. A sunken cost fallacy of sticking to what you know, purely because you know it. 

“Sure, yeah, but can’t I just be your husband from time to time? Not everything with us has to be tennis. I’m tired of it being just tennis.”

You sit up with a scoff that he can feel the heat of from the opposite side of the room. You look sharp, ready to draw a sword or bite down on the jugular. If he pulled the tie of your robe, though, he thinks he’d just find a gash. Something left to fester while he pours salt onto it by just wanting, needing, a break. All he wants is a break. A bed that’s really his, time to sleep in on the weekends, waking up to warm sunlight and warm lips, sweetened coffee, a good meal. A life. 

“And you don’t think I’m tired? Art, I’ve been tired since I was 18. I’m doing this because you deserve to have all this, and you’re thanking me by saying you’d prefer I’d never have done the work at all?”

“Do I deserve to have it? Or do you just want it?”

“I’m not doing this with you, Art. We had a rough day, and you’re overthinking, and we need to go to bed for your next match, so-”

He shakes his head, feels bolder than he has in years. 

“No.”

“No?”

“I’m not beating around the bush for your comfort. I know I’m playing just so you can live out your dreams, because you’ll still have your name attached to some huge victory that you should’ve had. I’m sorry you can’t have it, seriously, I am, but is this how little I mean to you? Am I just a means to getting those childhood fantasies out, and fuck if I don’t want them? Am I just a racket and a dick?”

He watches you stand, move his way, lithe and flowing like a cat ready to pounce. Your hands have lost all the calluses they’d had when you’d first met, but he likes the softness more where it meets his skin, cradles his jaw like he’s just a bit too stupid to hold his head up on his own. He wouldn’t mind if that were true, as long as it kept you near him.

“Maybe you are, Art.”

He feels cold where your presence had once been, watching you make your way to the bedroom down the hall, robe fluttering behind you, flowing and limp, like wings clipped before they could ever learn to fly. The lock clicks before he can manage to get angry. Where he lays on the couch, he finds his legs stretch over the armrests at full length, and he curls in on himself the way a dog might. Stomach and chest covered by hard bone, arms wrapped around himself like ribbon. Protecting all the soft, aching, squishy insides from a world where you’re kind enough to make him something, and cruel enough to only do it for yourself.

The sun is beating down on him like it hasn’t done in ages, heat tangible enough to hold, insistent against the back of his neck. He can feel a bead of sweat be born of the part of his hair, grow, pull itself down the curve of his nose, settling above his cupid’s bow. His hands are too occupied to wipe it away, and he tastes the salt of his own body when his tongue meets the skin. His hair is tickling his forehead where it curls in on itself, weighed down with sweat and a game worth fighting for. 

The man opposite him, brunette, grinning, wild more than he is poised, isn’t letting up. He looks young, younger than anyone Art playing should be, and familiar. All too much like a face he’s tried forgetting, that he hopes avoiding the name of will erase the truth of. He can hear a murmur here and there, an ump mispronouncing that last name he remembers tasting of cigarette smoke and the honeysuckle bushes of youthful summers. And he’s here. When he looks over, you’re off to the side, eyes livelier, sharper, younger, too. 

It’s 2006, and Art is still alive. Really alive, with something to fight for that hasn’t already been won, and a passion for just breathing air into his lungs. He remembers it all too clearly, and fuck, Patrick’s winning. The game, sure, but that’s not what matters. He’s winning your attention, all sloppy serves and sporadic in his efforts, a level of natural athleticism that just comes from knowing that the world pushes apart the sea at your request, just to allow you to walk through it, showmanship from having the money not to care about failure, improper etiquette, life as a whole. He’s still shaky on his feet, stumbling into his greatness with the thin, unstable legs of a newborn doe, lashes fluttering to take in this great, flashing world around him, and suddenly the ball is flying towards his left side. 

When it’d gotten onto the opposite side, he can’t recall. Maybe he was watching his own feet shuffle about, maybe he was watching your shoulders roll back to correct already perfect posture, maybe he was watching the muscle of Patrick’s thigh twitch every time he stretches a bit further than his stance should call for. But he has to earn your approval, that slight dip of your chin in a nod, and he stretches for all he’s worth to hit that glowing little sun which holds his future in its smiling white tracks.

Crack.

His front teeth meet concrete, push back into his tongue, and he’s spitting red into the netting of his racket, still clattering on impact with the ground. He looks behind himself to find a leg bending in all the wrong places, and he can’t help but to find it almost beautiful that he can move in such a way until the adrenaline wears off. The scream that claws out of his throat had probably lived there years, burrowing among fascia, waiting to sink its nails into muscle and leverage its way out. Sneakers meet his eyeline, medics, a coach

He wakes with a start, grasping at his chest like it needs to detach from him, heart pushing against his skin almost painfully. His lungs are aching with the burn of air gone sharp, jagged edges of inhalation scraping his airways, and nothing but the red blink of a digital clock to watch him. 3:21 A.M., the world outside asleep, soft and sweet in rest, drawn out breathing and relaxed muscles. Here he is, crick in his neck from a lack of a pillow, stomach heavy with the lead of anxiety, and an arm lacking of someone else’s 

He carries himself to the doorway of the room he’d shared with you the night previous with all the confidence of a scolded child, and perhaps, that’s because he is one. The door creaks unceremoniously, casting the softest moonlit glow onto the bird’s eye view of the face, hair tossed over your forehead from a previously made turn. He wonders if you’ve had a nightmare all your own. When he seats himself at the edge of the bed, dragging his fingertips over your leg from ankle to thigh, close enough to hear the rhythm of your breath, he can see that you aren’t asleep at all. He knows how you soften in sleep. He’s spent too long learning to become you not to recognize the patterns. 

Your eyes flutter open, lashes flitting like a butterfly’s wings, soft, gentle, with a force strong enough to cause a hurricane some distant place he can’t bring himself to. Not when he can see the expansion of your pupils in the dark, dilated and sunken into his own, swallowing his conscience whole until all he can think about is you, you, you. 

“I’m sorry.”

It feels unwelcome, what with the otherwise silence of the room, having been ripped from that place before sleep, warm like a bath and fuzzy with white noise and slowly sinking energy. But still, you don’t know if your exhaustion wrecked brain has it in itself to fight any longer, or do anything but remember that it’s softer than it pretends to be. You place a hand in his hair, and it’s the first time he remembers it’s newfound shortness in maturity, no longer the cherubic mosaic of wheat beige and goldenrod it'd once been. 

“It’s fine, Art. Really, I was being-”

“Mm-mm. I was out of line. I fucked up today, and that’s not what you deserve.”

Your gaze is heavy behind your filling waterline, and he wants to wipe each building tear away from where it rolls down your cheek. Even more so, he wants to part his lips and drink each rivulet in, know what the taste of your emotions is like on his tongue, heady and thick with the essence of your weary mind. He watches your head tilt, curious, cautious, perhaps a bit frightened in its wonder, spectating, analyzing, watching the ball roll into your court.

“Maybe it isn’t. But it’s not always about that. I want it to be about you right now, Art. What is it that you want?”

He wants a lot of things. He wants to have won that game, he wants to bite into your skin and suck the venom of pain from the memory of your muscle, he wants to burrow into your chest, let the burning acid of bile leave his stomach, wants to be a father and leave life behind, wants to be the tennis player you need. 

“I want to be good for you.” 

You don’t need to give him permission. He’ll do what he wants for now, maybe more out of desperation to remind himself he can be good at all than for your benefit. He hears you suck in a breath deep enough to scrape out the rot, cleaning off the year old build up of hurt stuck to each rib, your head dropping into the downy softness of the pillow beneath it. Who is he not to be good, to prove himself, to make you forget that he wasn’t meant to be the one in this position years ago. 

The soft, stretchy fabric of your sleep shorts moves with little resistance, sighing at the drag down the slopes of your thighs. He doesn’t bother hooking them from the catch of your ankle bones, breathing cold air into the heat of you. The first drag of his tongue is slow, for himself more than you, eyes closed and only pulling away when the stretch of his jaw aches from length. He doesn’t care. He repeats the action with a flutter back of his eyes, closing them to allow the lashes to kiss along your skin. Each little gasp, twitch, clench of a thigh, spurs him on, and if he wasn’t drunk on tasting your love for him, those surely pushed him into a daze. When he remembers to, between the suctioning of his lips and the flicking of his tongue against the warm, wet entrance of you, he can manage a small ‘I’m good. I’m doing good. Just for you’ You wonder which of you he’s confirming this to.

You don’t finish with a cry, nothing violent, nothing rippling through the vibrating to air to push things away. Rather, it’s a stiffening, sudden rigidness through the bones, and then a melt, dropping each limb heavily against the mattress. He thinks he can taste the difference if he thinks hard enough. He doesn’t want to move where your hand isn’t resting in his hair, and he can’t feel his body lift with the rise of your stomach when you breathe, so he rests his face in the divot where hip meets thigh, close enough to move back where he had been should you need any further verification of his devotion. 

“I’m good.” 

He can hear the movement of your hair against silk pillowcases when you nod, not bothering to move his eyes from the soft curve of your belly in its closeness. 

“Yeah. Yeah, you are.”

[nevadancitizen]

-> CH. 3: THE WEALTHY WOMAN’S BURDEN

synopsis: jayce takes you to meet a councilor friend of his. she's loaded and you're not, but despite the glaring discrepancies, you do your best to strike a deal.

word count: 4.7k

ships: Viktor/isekai!Reader, Jayce Talis & isekai!Reader

notes: i woke up this morning and my index finger was FUCKED UP it's like BENT a good five to seven degrees to the right (painful) so writing may be like a little slower while i figure out what this is ┐(´•_•`)┌

ABoAB taglist: @th3stup1dcat , @patchs-curiosity-corner (if you'd like to be added to the taglist, just ask!)

A BLAZE OF ARCANE BLUE MASTERLIST

It’s been about a week since you came through the hexportal. (Jayce decided that it had a nice ring to it, despite both you and Viktor’s protests that it most certainly did not.) You’re settling in nicely; you’ve organized your dorm sufficiently, you’ve gotten on well enough with Viktor and Jayce, and you’ve met a wonderful young lady named Miss Sky Young, who happens to be their lab assistant. 

Viktor was very kind to arrange a blackboard to be delivered to your place. You’ve wanted to work out a cipher between English and Piltovan, but just haven’t had the time yet. The book he left on your kitchen peninsula still taunts you each time you pass by it. You don’t even know its title, or who it’s written by. It frustrates you, like it’s an itch you can’t scratch – yet.

You’ll learn Piltovan. You’re illiterate now, but you just need to learn. And you’re a hell of a learner! Well, at least that’s what you tell yourself when the book almost seems to stare at you when you’re fixing a meal. It’s almost like it’s saying, ‘Look! Look at me, with your uneducated eyes. You live in Piltover now, you’ve gotta speak Piltovan!’

But that’s not important right now. What is important is how the collar on this fancy outfit is supposed to look… Is it supposed to be tall, or are you supposed to fold it down? You’re not too sure. This entire outfit is a bit alien to you, and your university has a fashion program. You’re used to seeing fancy outfits that look a little (or a lot) ‘out there,’ but you’re not used to wearing them.

“Jayce,” you call through the bathroom door. “I – I appreciate the thought, I really do, but… do I really need to wear this to meet her?”

“I’m sure you look nice,” Jayce says, his voice muffled. “Besides, we’ll be wearing matching colors. We need to present as a united front.”

“United front,” you mumble under your breath. You lean over the sink, closer to the mirror, and adjust the oxblood ascot-tie-thing that’s around your neck. “What are we, married?”

A few minutes later, you step out of the bathroom. A smile spreads over Jayce’s face as he takes you in.

Your outfit does, in fact, match his. You’re wearing a mirror of his outfit, almost: a white button-down with a muted red vest, along with freshly-pressed grey slacks and the oxblood ascot-tie-thing (you’re not sure how else to describe it). You insisted on just cleaning up your boots and wearing those because you didn’t want Jayce spending any more money on you. (It makes you feel weird, being indebted to him like this, but he said that since his and Viktor’s technology brought you into Piltover, he and Viktor are responsible for meeting your needs.)

“See?” He says. “You look nice.”

You wrinkle your nose up and force a smile. “Uh-huh. Sure don’t feel nice to be dressed in it.”

Jayce rolls his eyes, still smiling, and leads you out of your dorm. You barely have time to pick up your bag before he damn near drags you out.

The Academy is big and winding, with many halls that lead in loops, hidden shortcuts, and passages that seem to lead to nowhere. You’re glad to have him as a guide – you’re sure that if you got lost, it’d be worse than Christ’s fast of forty days and forty nights.

Finally, the sunlight of early day meets your skin as you step outside. You smile and bring your hand up to block the sun from your eyes. It’s nice and warm without the oppressive humidity you’re used to.

“You gonna show me ‘round your rich city?” You ask Jayce.

He touches your shoulder lightly to keep you walking alongside him. “Maybe we can do that another time. I made an appointment with the Councilor, and I don’t want to miss it.”

You quicken your pace to catch up with him, then slow your walk to match his. Your eyes are stuck on the tall structures that surround you – never before have you been so close to such wonderful, artistic architecture. It almost looks Victorian or Edwardian, in a way. The people sure dress fancy enough to be from those eras. Maybe some of them are?

But the giant boom of a hexgate firing negates that thought. You’re not quite used to it yet, but Jayce explained that the sound was not, in fact, a gunshot, but just the sound of modern transportation. It’s like Piltover is some steampunk’s wet dream come to life: a near-perfect display of retrofuturism. New, freshly-pioneered technology mixed with old-world cogs and steam.

A thought comes to mind. “How old is Piltover, exactly?”

“We just celebrated the two-hundredth anniversary of its founding a few years ago,” Jayce says. “Why do you ask?”

“Just curious, that’s all,” you say. “The buildin’s look old. I’m not sayin’ they look unimpressive, just that they got a little age on ‘em.”

“You think these are impressive?” He laughs breathily. “Just wait ‘til you see her estate.”

“Estate?” You echo. “She’s dead?”

“What? No,” he says. “I meant her house. In fact…”

Jayce leads you around a corner and holds up a hand, palm-up and outstretched towards a huge mansion behind a tall, wrought-iron gate. This is the Kiramman estate.

“Woah,” you breathe out. “That ain’t a house – Jayce, that’s a little more’n just a house.”

It’s honestly bigger than any other mansion you’ve seen in person. Sure, you’ve seen (and made fun of) a lot of ‘McMansions’ in Texas and California, where too-big houses are built on too-small plots of land. But this one has the proper land and space to be an actual, beautiful, well-thought-out mansion. Even in a semi-crowded city like this, it demands the space it needs and openly exudes wealth and power.

“Well, yeah,” Jayce says. “That’s why I called it an estate.”

You follow Jayce towards the gate, your eyes still stuck upwards at the geometric metalwork that adorns the roof. Two tall spires at the front of the mansion cut into the sky, both surely imprisoning two delicate, fragile Kiramman princesses. You can almost hear them crying out for you from their open windows  – ‘Oh, come save us from our wealth! Marry one of us so you can spend our money building the workshop of your dreams. It can be a jeweler’s workshop, or a metalwork studio, or anything else – just spend our exorbitant amount of generational wealth so we don’t have to!’

Jayce talks to the man standing guard at the gate about the appointment he made. The man opens the gate, and as you pass by, you eye the rifle he has. From what you can tell, it’s bolt-action. He’s holding the butt of the gun in his palm and resting the sling stud against his shoulder. He doesn’t look like he appreciates your once-over of him.

You follow Jayce into the foyer. Even the front door handles are fancy and inlaid with gold. 

Inside is even grander. You don’t know what else you expected. Nearly everything has gold incorporated in some part of it – the coffee table, the loveseat and the chair across from it, even the railing leading up to the second floor near the back of the room. Floor-to-ceiling windows line the second floor’s back wall, letting sunlight spill into the room. The gold catches the natural light and makes the room almost glow.

There’s a huge painting in the center of the back wall of, what you presume to be, an outdoor shot of the Kiramman family. A man sits in a chair with a young girl (no more than ten) next to him, and a woman stands behind them, a hand on both their shoulders. A dog, a doberman-looking breed, stands next to the man, its ears tilted forward and facing the girl. The young girl is holding a rifle that’s almost as tall as her. An exotic-looking animal lays in front of the family, dead. A successful hunt.

There is one god-honest truth to be observed here: that the Kirammans are fucking loaded.

You don’t know how it makes you feel. On one hand, it’s amazing. You’ve never been in the presence of this… grandeur. This is only the foyer – you can’t even begin to imagine what a bedroom or bathroom looks like. You’d love to have a quick look around one of their kitchens.

But on the other hand? It disgusts you. The Kirammans could drop a million bucks on a stair railing and it’d mean nothing to them. They probably already did, from the looks of the one leading up to the second floor. It’s an appaling display of wealth and selfishness, a siren playing a soundbite of ‘Me, me, me! Look at me and how rich I am, then look at yourself and how poor you are!’ on an endless loop.

You swallow both sentiments and sit next to Jayce on the loveseat, setting your bag in your lap. On top of being beautiful, the seat is comfortable. You could sleep on it and your back would thank you for it. It kind of pisses you off, but then you realize how stupid it would be to be mad at a couch just because it was made well.

“Are you nervous?” Jayce asks, his voice kind of quiet.

“Am I?” You scoff. “Nothin’ to be nervous ‘bout. Them Kirammans must be… moneyed people, and there ain’t nothin’ wrong with that. I can handle moneyed.”

You busy yourself with looking around the room again. At second glance, nothing new is revealed – everything is, in fact, as fancy as you thought it was at first. Whoever the Kirammans commissioned to decorate must’ve been given a blank check.

“Jayce!” A voice calls, high-pitched and thrilled and… British? Yeah, her voice is British. How the hell did Britain manage to invade and colonize another universe? (Well, actually… if anyone could manage it, it’d be Britain.)

You turn your head and look towards the stairs. Standing in front of the Kiramman family portrait is the woman from the painting, albeit a bit older. She must be Councilor Kiramman. She certainly looks rich enough to be.

Jayce stands, and you quickly follow suit, holding your bag against you and making sure it doesn’t fall and spill. You watch Jayce, seeing if he bows or curtsies or does anything regal-like that you should copy.

“Councilor Kiramman!” He greets. “How’re you?”

Councilor Kiramman talks as she descends the stairs. “Oh, I’m doing fine. And before you ask, Caitlyn is doing well.”

“I’m glad to hear,” Jayce says. “I’d like you to meet someone.”

A smile crosses her face as she looks your way. Her shoe meets the floor with a click, then her steps are muffled as she moves across the rug.

You set your bag down on the loveseat and hold your hand out for a handshake, introducing yourself and giving your school’s name. She looks at you oddly before placing her hand limply in yours. It’s far from a good handshake, and frankly, kind of uncomfortable.

“They’re from a different part of the world,” Jayce says, effectively rescuing you. “Where they’re from, handshakes are greetings.”

A look of revelation crosses Councilor Kiramman’s face, and she gives you a firm, respectful handshake. You feel the tension in your shoulders melt a little – you haven’t committed an unknown Piltover faux pas (yet, at least).

“I apologize sincerely, ma’am,” you say. “It was foolish of me to think that our social customs were comparable.”

“Oh, your accent!” She cradles your hand in both of her warm ones. “Tell me, where are you from?”

“A…America,” you say. “From the Southern region.”

“I’ve never heard of America,” she says. “It must be a small country.”

“Somewhat,” you lie. “How ‘bout we sit? I can tell you more.”

She nods and you return to the loveseat, resting your bag in your lap again. Jayce settles next to you, and Councilor Kiramman sits in the lone seat across the coffee table.

She crosses one leg over the other at the knee. “So, what brought you to Piltover?”

“I, um… I didn’t have much of a choice, ma’am,” you say. You bring your hands together to better sell the act of the poor, ignorant Southerner, and lie the best you can.

“Was bad people that displaced me. I was up in the North for schooling, but they didn’t want my kinda people ‘round, no ma’am.” You shake your head and look away to the side. “I couldn’t get back down South quick enough, so I hopped on a boat at Nautilus Pier and was a stowaway. I ended up here, and Jayce and Viktor, god bless ‘em both wholly, took me in.”

“Oh, that’s horrible,” Councilor Kiramman says. “Would you like some tea?”

“Um – yes,” you say, a little startled at the sudden change in topic. “Yes, please.”

“Jayce.” She leans back in her chair and her eyes shift to Jayce. “Would you be so kind?”

Jayce spares you a glance, then stands and excuses himself. You grip your bag in a small fit of panic, then let go. It’s fine. Everything’s fine.

Councilor Kiramman’s voice is quieter than before when she speaks next. “Jayce thinks you’re a beneficiary worthy of backing from the Kirammans. Do you?”

You take a moment to go over your pre-prepared speech in your head, then look into her pale-blue eyes. “Yes ma’am, I do. I’m one hell of an artist – it’s just that my education was cut short. If you take a chance on me, which I sincerely hope you do, I’ll do my damnedest to fulfill any request you make of me. I ain’t got no job, I ain’t got no money, and those egghead boys are nice, but I sure as hell can’t freeload forever.”

Before you can talk yourself down from it, you open your bag and flip your sketchbook open. It was greuling, getting these designs down, but you have something to show to Councilor Kiramman. You turn the sketchbook, then set it down on the coffee table and push it towards her. She leans forward and looks at the page.

“I don’t got no physical proof to show you my talents, due to my quick departure and whatnot, but I hope this suffices,” you say. “I drew ‘em up over the last week or so. Was inspired by hextech – as I’m sure most are. I thought that, as an investor, maybe you’d like to have a set of earrings and a necklace at the next exposition.”

“And what materials would that require?” She asks, her eyes not leaving the page.

“I was thinkin’ a medium-dark blue gemstone. Not exactly dark as iolite, but would still compliment your palette,” you say. “Maybe a nice blue topaz? And it’d be better ‘cause it’s cheap, too. I was plannin’ on makin’ chandelier earrings, and those can get expensive quick, dependin’ on the design.”

Councilor Kiramman brings a hand up and touches her earring, almost like she’s imagining herself with a pair of chandelier earrings rather than the simple drop ones she has on. You can’t tell exactly with the distance between the both of you, but they look like lapis lazuli.

“And what about the designs that aren’t meant to impress me?” Her eyes flick up and meet yours. “The ones you make for yourself?”

You feel your heart almost stop. You take a moment, breathe in, and compose yourself.

“I – I enjoy celestial designs,” you say, like it’s an admission. “My favorite piece I made was a pair of twin gemini earrings. They were so goddamn intricate, I spent two weeks on ‘em… I’m… it’s a shame I wasn’t able to get ‘em when I left. I’m honestly real tore up ‘bout it.”

Councilor Kiramman puts your sketchbook on the coffee table and pushes it towards you. “Show me.”

You look up from the page full of designs meant to impress her and meet her eyes. She’s dead serious. She wants you to draw the twin gemini earrings, and, you assume, recreate them – if she likes them well enough, that is.

You dig around in your bag and thank god you threw a pencil in there just in case. You turn the page and put graphite to paper.

Slowly, a design forms from rudimentary shapes. It’s a silhouette of two almost-naked sisters, both wearing fig leaves, dancing together. Gems represent the stars of the constellation, embedded in each woman’s body, forever joining them.

You push the sketchbook back towards her. “The sisters are made of silver, and the stars – the little circles – are moonstone in a brilliant cut.”

“Not something with more scintillation?” She suggests. “They’re meant to be stars, after all.”

You perk up at that. She knows what scintillation is? Well, she’s rich, so maybe it isn’t that surprising. Or maybe it is, because she could just hire a jeweler to examine and know everything about the jewels she wears.

“Yes ma’am,” you say. “But brilliant cuts are cheaper, and also have a lot less labor goin’ into ‘em. Forgive me if I’m speakin’ outta line, but I do believe you’re richer than most my entire country. I couldn’t exactly afford something with more scintillation, ‘less I cut it myself.”

“And what if I get it cut for you?” Councilor Kiramman looks up from the page. “Would you be able to recreate these earrings if I gave you the proper materials and workspace?”

Despite you considering the possibility of her asking this, you’re still shocked when those words leave her mouth. She’s offering to cover something that cost you almost five hundred bucks to make – maybe it’s pocket change for her, but for you, it is most definitely not.

“What happens after?” You ask. “You gonna take me on as a beneficiary if they’re up to snuff?”

She leans back in her chair and makes a noncommittal gesture with one hand. “I need to see your talents actualized before I take the risk of investment. I’ll decide when you show me the final product. I’m sure you understand.”

You nod. “Yes, ma’am. I know you got artists knockin’ down your door…”

You trail off as you hear the faint sound of a kettle whistle cutting through the air. You check over your shoulder over the back of the loveseat, where the source of the sound is coming from.

“It’s just the kettle,” Councilor Kiramman says. “Surely you had tea with your family when you were living at home?”

You slump in the seat, pressing your back into the cushion a bit. “Um, no, ma’am. I made my parents coffee in the mornings ‘fore they went off to work, though.”

“I find coffee too bitter for my taste,” she says. “Where do your parents work?”

You hesitate for a moment. You don’t know why. Are you embarrassed? What do you have to be embarrassed about? (Maybe being poor in front of an overly rich person, for one, but that’s besides the point.)

“My daddy works in the oil fields. He does all the manual labor you’d expect in that job,” you say. “And my momma works at a local school – Meadowbrook Elementary. Teaches young children, age seven to eight, I’d say.”

“So you come from a family of laborers,” she says. “And yet you’re an artisan. How peculiar.”

You bristle a little at that statement. She didn’t exactly say it, but with the way she said ‘laborers…’ Okay, she didn’t say it with a sneer or an undertone of contempt, but how else are you supposed to respond to something like that?

“My parents encouraged me,” you say, keeping your voice even as you can manage to. “Sure, I got debt from my schooling, but I’m workin’ to pay it off.”

“You have to go into debt to go to school?” Councilor Kiramman says. She looks to the side and heaves a breath. “Is America really that backwards?”

You grit your teeth and give a smile you know is unconvincing. “Yes ma’am, but it’s still my home. You can love something despite its flaws.”

You watch as Councilor Kiramman looks over at the huge painting of her family. Her shoulders seem to relax a little.

“I find it odd,” she says. “If you don’t share an enthusiasm for labor, what do you share with your family?”

You look over at the painting – at the corpse of the exotic animal. It’s feathered, with some type of organic keratin mask over its face. You can only imagine its blood dripping from the bullet wound, pooling and inching towards the girl’s and the man’s hand-cobbled shoes.

“We went on huntin’ trips, just like that one,” you say. “We had one scoped rifle between all of us – was a pristine Mauser ‘98. I killed my first whitetail deer when I was twelve with that gun.”

Looking at the portrait makes you feel something in the pit of your stomach now. It’s a twisted mirror of what could’ve been. If your family was rich, if your family had only one child, if your family had its own property to hunt on.

You couldn’t imagine the Kirammans in the polaroid picture your momma took when you killed that buck. In that picture, you were smiling, proud, the rifle slung over your shoulder and your hands holding the deer’s head up by his eight-point antlers. Your kid-sized earmuffs were resting around your neck and your sneakers were covered in dry, flaky mud. You were dirty and shaking from adrenaline, but you couldn’t have been happier.

But the Kirammans don’t smile. They sure as hell don’t get dirty. They don’t put their hunt up on a gambrel and pulley to gut it – they hire someone to do that for them. Daddy Kiramman didn’t teach Daughter Kiramman how to skin an animal and how to cut out the backstrap. He taught her that her problems can be solved if she pays someone to solve them for her.

“My daughter was nine,” Councilor Kiramman says, her voice fond. “Caitlyn always wanted to go out on a hunting expedition since she was young. We said she could go once she could hold a rifle on her own. I’m sure you were similar when you were a child.”

You push down your thoughts and glance over at her. She’s still looking at the painting, probably remembering the day Caitlyn shot… whatever that is.

You clench your jaw and instead trace your eyes over the exquisite, golden frame the painting is held in. She’s insinuating your families are similar – that her plush, comfortable life is comparable to yours when it’s not. 

You were a rough and tumble kid. You have scars from falling off your bike and playing with hunting knives, pretending to be pirates with your brother. Councilor Kiramman’s skin is flawless, and any scars that may have accrued have been washed away by a correcting gel or cream. You lapped at too-hot water from a hose during the summertime. She had chilled bottles of water when she was done doing her rich-girl extracurricular activities, like badminton and curling.

You start to feel sick. Maybe rich people just make you feel sick. Or the disparity between you two and the power she holds over you is making you sick.

She could put you in the gutter and no one would bat an eye – just another starving artist, well… starving. Everyone would excuse it with ‘Well, people compromise on their dreams all the time. Nothing was stopping them from getting a day job. It’s their fault for being poor, their fault for being naive enough to think that they were a true artist, their fault for not having rich parents and a safety net.’

The outfit Jayce put you in starts to feel too tight, too starchy and itchy. Your shoulders are confined by the almost-taut fabric and the ascot-tie-thing (you hate it, hate it) is creating an uncomfortable pressure along your sternum from being stuffed in your vest. You feel like you can’t pull in a full breath. You can’t pull in a full breath.

You hear footsteps behind you. You check over your shoulder and see Jayce walking back into the foyer, holding a tray with a teapot, three teacups, and a few other little containers with spoon handles sticking out of them.

“Jayce!” You say. The tension is broken. “You’re back.”

“I couldn’t decide which tea to brew,” Jayce says as he walks, carefully balancing the tray. “I ended up with conschberry tea. I hope that’s okay.”

You take your sketchbook and put it back in your bag to make room on the coffee table. He sets down the tray and sets the teacups out – one for him, one for you, and one for Councilor Kiramman.

The tea he pours from the teapot is a pinkish-orange color, and lets off a sweet, floral smell. The little containers are filled with sugars of different colors, and what you deduce is cream and milk. There’s a plate filled with sandwiches cut into neat squares, fruit still on a vine, and assorted pastries.

Jayce puts the teapot back on the tray, then sits next to you. Councilor Kiramman takes the spoon from a ramekin of light orange sugar and pours some into her tea. It fizzes, then settles as she stirs.

“That ain’t sugar?” You ask.

“Sugar?” She echoes. “It’s ainglë. Don’t tell me you don’t have ainglë in America?”

You shake your head, then reach out and take the container. You lift it to your nose and smell. It’s sharp and sinus-clearing, but reminds you of the saffron you’d sniff when you went into the big city’s grocery shop.

“Hm,” you hum. You sprinkle a little into your tea, and it fizzes, just like Councilor Kiramman’s did. That’s… somewhat reassuring, you guess.

You bring the cup to your lips and take a tentative sip. It’s sweet without being overwhelming and goes down with a mildly bitter aftertaste. It’s decadent, but definitely something you could get used to.

You take a deep breath and can feel the air hit the bottom of your lungs. The outfit is still constraining and uncomfortable, but it’s not as bad now. You feel less like a hog trussed for slaughter and more like a person that’s just in an awkward situation.

“We’ve reached an agreement,” Councilor Kiramman tells Jayce. “I’m not a sponsor yet, but they show promise.”

He sends you a brief smile and nods at her words. “Hopefully they make something to your liking.”

“Oh, I have no doubt they will,” she says. “We’ve worked out an arrangement. I provide the materials and workspace, and they provide the finished product. We’ll see where it goes from there.”

You feel like a kid at a gathering for dinner, with the adults talking about you over your head. You sip at your tea, then tilt your head back to drain the cup. You gather your bag, set your teacup down on the tray, and stand.

“Well, I oughta get goin’,” you say.

“Why so soon?” Councilor Kiramman says. “You’re welcome to stay and have more tea.”

You hold up a hand and make up a lie. “In my family, you serve hot tea when you want someone to go. I – I’d just feel unwelcome. Like I’m takin’ advantage of your gracious invitation.”

“If you must…” She stands and extends her hand over the coffee table. You take it, and she gives a firm handshake. You smile a little when you realize that she took care to remember American customs.

“Was nice meetin’ you,” you say.

“You as well,” she says, and lets go of your hand. “I’ll have someone arrange a studio and the materials you’ll need. It should be ready by the day after tomorrow.”

“The day after tomorrow?” You repeat, a little shocked. (Money does make the world go around, but you didn’t expect her money to accelerate the process that fast.) “I – yes, that works for me.”

Councilor Kiramman nods, and you take it as a sign that you’re now allowed to leave. You give Jayce a little reassurance that you won’t get lost, then make your way to the front doors and slip out.

[ltsokaylove]

“Endroit Sûr” Safe Place

A Regulus Black x Reader

Summary: After a long summer of not being able to write to one another, you reunite in his dorm at the beginning of sixth year.

!Tw!

Scars, very brief mention of abuse

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

The amount of relief that flooded her system on the first day of sixth year was astronomical to say the least. Leaving Regulus alone in the company of his family was the last thing she wanted to do, but as a half blood, she didn't really have the option to go with him.

The fall air felt amazing on her face as she walked into the train station. After walking through to platform 9 3/4, her eyes betray her and search the station for Regulus and his family. Her eyes catch on Regulus and his parents before Shes startled out of her staring.

"Y/n!'

She turns and is met with the mischievous face of Sirius.

"Make it any more obvious and my mother will probably come hex you,"

Her face heats up immensely. "Shut up Siri," she mumbles into his chest as he embraces you lovingly. You feel the rumble of a chuckle as it breaks out through his chest. "Missed you idiot,"

"Missed you too chéri," he says with a childlike glint in his eye.

She rolls her eys playfully, pushing herself out of his grasp.

"I know, I know it'll always be my brother," he dramatically sniffles and grabs his arm as if he's physically wounded.

"Oh toughen up Padfoot!" James yells from behind her, tackling them both simultaneously and pulling her into a warm hug.

They find Remus and Peter before retreating into your usual compartment.

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

Hogwarts felt a little different this time around, colder maybe? Or maybe the only thing that was bothering her was the fact that she couldn't get Regulus to look at her once throughout the entire feast, and he wasn't in his usual compartment on the train.

Her heart ached for him, and it wasn't a feeling she liked. The entire walk back to the Gryffindor common room her mind spiraled on how she would get James to lend you his cloak.

The second the boys ventured up the stairs to their dorm you were on their tails.

"Y/nnn, what do you want? To see us naked? Were gonna change."

She snorts, "Fuck off James I need your cloak".

James is laying stomach down on his bed facing her, his legs kicking up like a schoolgirl. "What for dear Y/n?" He teases with a smirk.

She rolls her eyes at his antics. "You know,"

"Fine"

"Thank you so muc-"

"But you're doing my charms homework for a week"

Her smile dissipates, "Fine, James, give it".

He smiles mischievously tossing it at her head.

"You little-"

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

You threw the cloak over your body, cradling it close as you stealthily navigated the hallways to the Slytherin common room like you had so many times before.

She creeps into his dorm silently, praying his roommates aren't there, even though she knows they're definitely out partying with the Ravenclaws since its their first night back.

The first thing she sees is beautiful, Regulus laying on his side with his back to her. The candlelight perfectly illuminates the muscles in his back. The breath is almost stolen from her as she admires the candid beauty of him, until she almost has a heart attack as she notices the scars running at his lower back.

She drops the cloak immediately, "Reg?" He doesn't even have a chance to be surprised before you're on the bed next to him cautiously examining his body, or the parts of it that aren't shielded by the black satiny sheets of his bed.

"Mon chéri?" he asks cautiously looking at you, as if its you that should be breaking down instead of him. "Why are you here?"

"God Reg, I've been so worried about you".

His stoic expression immediately drops when he sees the look on your face, he takes a slightly shuddering breath before exhaling.

"And when I couldn't find you on the train, or get you to look at me during dinner, I thought I messed it up somehow-"

He sits up, "You didn't do anything, wrong, I promise-"

She sighs, gently running a hand through his dark curls. "I don't even care about that right now, Reg. What happened?"

He looks at her with a heartbreakingly vulnerable expression, like he's ready to beg her for mercy. But for what? She doesn't know.

He's shaking, "Remember I love you so much, I would never hurt you or let anyone else-"

She swallows, "What is it Reg? I can take it,"

After a few beats he breaks the silence, "I got the mark- I didn't want to-" he swallows, "I just don't want to die yet".

He studies the expression on her face, "Please don't leave me," his voice is so tiny and desperate that you almost didn't hear the small plead.

"No, no. Of course I'm not leaving you- I'm just a little shocked as all," she immediately pulls him into her arms. As she does so she gets a view of the rest of the scars along his torso and chest and she starts to tear up, heartbroken. "What did they do to you,"

He seems pained but sounds unbothered when he answers you, "Oh you know," he laughs lightly, "Just mother".

She doesn't laugh with him. "I don't want you to stay in that house.."

"Its not that easy-"

"I know its just- I worry. I couldn't fathom losing you".

"You've got me," with says with finality, leaving no room for argument or dismissal.

She embraces him tighter.

"Stay the night love?" he asks looking down at her with hope filled eyes.

She grins hesitantly, "I was just about to ask".

He walks over to his closet and tosses her a sweater and sweatpants. “Here get comfy”.

She nods thankfully before quickly changing, ignoring the heat pooling in her stomach as she feels him watching her intently.

“Take a picture it’ll last longer,” she giggles throwing her old shirt at him.

He rolls his eyes playfully, and pulls her by the waist back into bed. His arms tighten around him and he pulls her closer, all the tension in his body disappearing the moment she touches him.

“You really are my endroit sûr, mon chéri,“

“Endroit sûr?” She asks quietly, face buried into the crook of his neck.

“Safe place, your my safe place darling”.

[darkstar225]

Twice's 10th member is Tzuyu's little sister and her unnie's Jelly Jelly

A/N: Heyyy, I'm trying to make up for the time I'm gone lol! Sry for taking so long to post :D I hope that the anon who gave me this idea on Tumblr likes it!

The request: hi unnie its been a while since you update about the twice 10th member book. so im here for a request. the 10th member is Tzuyu's younger sister. the other members are always close to her and also the 10th member always listen to her, go out with her friends and spend time with other member but not tzuyu. so tzuyu gets jealous and worried. THANK YOU UNNIE IF YOU COMFORTABLE WITH THIS REQUEST YOU CAN UPDATED IT. SARANGHAE AND TAKE CARE UNNIE.

PS: Tysm for everyone who reads what I write, I hope I can bring a smile to your faces every time I post! I'd like to thank whoever sent me this idea 'cause I loved to write it <3

__________________________________________________________

The sun shone brightly over Seoul, casting a warm glow over the JYP Entertainment building. Inside, the members of TWICE were busy with their usual routine, practising and preparing for their next big performance. Among them was Y/N, the 10th member of TWICE and Tzuyu's little sister.

The maknae had always been a bubbly and energetic presence in the group, loved by all her unnies. She had a close bond with each of them, always listening to their advice, going out with them, and spending quality time together. However, there was one person she seemed to spend the least amount of time with... her own sister, Tzuyu.

Tzuyu, known for her calm and reserved nature, couldn't help but feel a pang of jealousy and worry as she watched her baby sister interact with the other members. She loved the girl dearly and wanted to be as close to her as the others were. But lately, it felt like Y/N preferred the company of her friends and the other TWICE members over her.

One evening, after a long day of practice, the members gathered in the dorm's living room for a movie night. They laughed and chatted as they settled in, with Y/N snuggling up between Sana and Momo. Tzuyu sat quietly at the edge of the couch, trying to focus on the movie but unable to shake off the feeling of being left out.

As the movie played, Tzuyu's thoughts drifted to all the times she had tried to spend time with TWICE's honey, only to be met with polite excuses and promises of "later." It wasn't that Y/N was avoiding her on purpose, but Tzuyu couldn't help but feel a growing sense of insecurity.

After the movie ended, the members began to disperse to their rooms. Y/N, still full of energy, suggested a late-night snack run with Mina and Chaeyoung. Tzuyu watched as her sister left the dorm with her friends, feeling a mixture of sadness and longing.

Determined to address her feelings, Tzuyu decided to talk to Y/N. She needed to know if there was something she had done wrong or if there was a reason for the distance between them. Taking a deep breath, she waited for her sister to return.

When the younger girl finally came back, her face flushed from the cool night air and the excitement of their adventure, Tzuyu was waiting for her in the living room. Y/N's smile faltered slightly when she saw the serious expression on her sister's face.

Y/N - Sissy, is everything okay? *concerned frown*

The older girl nodded, her heart pounding in her chest. 

Tzuyu - Can we talk, bae? There's something I've been wanting to say.

Y/N nodded as she took a seat next to Tzuyu on the couch. 

Y/N - Of course, unnie. You can tell me anything.

Tzuyu took a deep breath, trying to find the right words. 

Tzuyu - Honey, I've been feeling a bit... left out lately. I see you spending so much time with the other members and your friends, but we hardly spend any time together anymore. I miss you.

Y/N's eyes widened in surprise and guilt. She hadn't realized how her actions had been affecting her sister. 

Y/N - Oh, sissy, I'm so sorry. I didn't mean to make you feel that way. I love you so much, and I would never want you to feel left out. *pouts*

Tzuyu's eyes softened as she looked at her sweet little sister. 

Tzuyu - I know you love me, Y/N. I just... I guess I got a little jealous and worried that you preferred spending time with everyone else over me.

TWICE's lovebug felt a pang of guilt and reached out to hold Tzuyu's hand. 

Y/N - Unnie, that's not true at all. I love spending time with you, and I'm really sorry if I made you feel like I didn't. You've always been my role model, and I look up to you so much.

Tzuyu squeezed Y/N's hand, feeling a sense of relief wash over her. 

Tzuyu - Thank you, love. It means a lot to hear you say that. I just want us to be close, like we used to be."

Y/N - We can be, unnie. Let's make more time for each other from now on, okay? *grins*

Tzuyu nodded, feeling a weight lift off her shoulders. 

Tzuyu - Okay, let's do that babygirl.

Over the next few weeks, Y/N made a conscious effort to spend more time with Tzuyu. They went out for meals together, practised their dance routines, and even had late-night heart-to-heart talks in their room. Tzuyu's insecurities slowly began to fade as she realized that her sister's love for her was as strong as ever.

One sunny afternoon, the members of TWICE decided to take a break from their busy schedule and go for a picnic in a nearby park. They spread out a large blanket under a shady tree and enjoyed a variety of homemade snacks and treats. The atmosphere was filled with laughter and joy as they relaxed and enjoyed each other's company.

The sibling duo sat side by side, their bond stronger than ever. As they shared stories and jokes, Tzuyu felt a deep sense of contentment. She realized that her sister's love was not something that could be measured by the amount of time they spent together, but by the moments of genuine connection and understanding they shared.

As the sun began to set, casting a warm golden glow over the park, Y/N turned to Tzuyu with a smile. 

Y/N - Unnie, thank you for always being there for me. I promise I'll never let anything come between us again.

Tzuyu smiled back, her heart swelling with pride and love. 

Tzuyu - And I'll always be here for you, Y/N. No matter what.

The members of TWICE watched the two sisters with fond smiles, happy to see them so close. They knew that the bond between the youngest girls was something special, a connection that could never be broken.

As they packed up their picnic and headed back to their dorm, Tzuyu and Y/N walked hand in hand, their hearts full of love and gratitude for each other. They knew that no matter what challenges lay ahead, they would face them together, as sisters and as members of TWICE.

Back at the dorm, as they settled in for the night, they shared one last moment together. Sitting on Y/N's bed, they talked about their dreams and aspirations, their fears and hopes. Tzuyu felt a sense of peace, knowing that her sister would always be by her side.

As they finally drifted off to sleep, the bond between Tzuyu and Y/N had grown even stronger. They knew that their love for each other was unbreakable and that they would always be there to support and care for one another. And as the stars shone brightly outside their window, they knew that they were not just sisters, but best friends, forever and always.

And this made them think:

I'll love my dear sister eternally.

A/N: I'm sorry for any errors. English is not my first language. Pls, let me know if there is something wrong, ty for reading <3

[towriteloveontheirarms]

I have an idea it’s a bit weird I hope u don’t mind, Xavier x fem reader walking through the forest to get to Xavier’s shed, it’s pouring rain and they hear a little puppy crying so reader finds him and he’s soaking wet and stuff, he’s so cute and she really wants to keep him but pets aren’t allowed at nevermore so Xavier gets the idea of keeping him in his art shed to make reader happy and they go buy him whatever he’ll need and Xavier can see how happy the reader is 

This was literally the cutest request ever nonnie. <3 I hope you enjoy it as much as I did!

Lost and found

pairing: Xavier Thorpe x reader

synopsis: You find a puppy seeking shelter behind Xavier´s art shed and fall in love immediately.

warnings: pure fluff

word count: 0.9k

The day had started out with perfect weather and a horrible mood. Now, that you could finally make your way to Xaviers shed the weather was horrible and your mood was… Well it was better than before at least. Walking through the forest towards Xaviers shed, your feet rustling through the leaves, one of your hands holding an umbrella over the two of you to shield you from the water, while swinging the other one between the two of you with interlaced fingers. Dragging his along. Holding the umbrella however had been easier in theory than it turned out to be in practice, as Xavier basically towered over your smaller form. And no matter how often he had offered to carry it, you would not let him. Halfway through the walk you thought you might change your mind about it being miserable. Sure you weren´t the biggest fan of the downpour, but the leaves crunching under your feet and the close proximity under the umbrella were actually really nice.

Before long the two of you reach the shed, but something seems different than usual. Very quietly, under the clanking of the thick chain barring the old doors, there is the whining of an animal to be heard. You almost miss it and so as Xavier goes inside you go to investigate.

And behind the shed, where someone must have stored firewood a long time ago there is the smallest Aussie puppy. Pressed up into a corner, shivering like crazy and taking shelter from the rain.

“Awww, hey baby…” You whisper as to not frighten it even more than it already looks to be.

You kneel down a good distance from it and hold out your hand for it to smell and come to you if it so chose to. At first it only looks at you through his one blue and one brown eye, but after a while its tiny legs move over to you slowly. The black and white fur is still damp when you pick it up to carry it inside.

“Xavi, you will never guess who I just found…” You call out to him in a baby voice.

“Why are you talking like… oh.” He turns around to you presenting the answer right under his nose.

“Isn´t he the cutest little baby you have ever seen?” You ask as you hold the puppy close to you in order to warm and dry the little furball.

“He is very cute. Yes. Where did you find him?” Xavier huffs a laugh.

“Behind the shed. I guess he was looking for shelter somewhere. Yes you were. Yes you were.” You bury your face in the fluffy white stripe of fur on the puppies head. Immediately pulling it back and scrunching up your nose. “Oof. You’re a stinky little baby.”

The puppy gives a squeaky yawn as if to protest your words, making the two you laugh.

“Can we keep him? Pleeeeease?” You look up at Xavier through your long, thick lashes.

A big pout finds its place on your lips and an attempt at the best puppy in your eyes you. Though arguably your foundling does a way better job at that than you are.

Xavier sighs, which tells you that the two of you have basically won him over already. “You know we can´t keep an animal in the dorms. Someone will find out sooner or later and then we would be in trouble…”

“So, lets keep him here. We spend like 90% of our time here anyway. Come on, Xav. We can´t leave a poor, defenseless puppy out there where gods know what could happen to him…” You lay the pleading look on more thickly.

“No fair, you know I can´t resist you when you look this cute.” He grumbles and then kisses you on the cheek. “Alright. He can stay here.”

As soon as the words leave his mouth, a gleeful exclaim comes out of your lungs. Joined in by the squeaky yips of your new friend. “You hear that? You´re gonna have a new home with us here, Barcode!”

“I um… I hate to interrupt your little celebration here, but… If we want to make it to the store before it closes we should go now. He´ll probably want to eat soon.” Xavier pulls your attention back to him as you kiss Barcode´s little face.

“Oh shit, you´re right.” You take his hand and together the three of you make your way to the local pet shop.

Once you reach the cash register he asks you. “How did you get to Barcode?”

“Hm, because he is black and white and because he has those random brown spots like some barcode stickers. Also I thought it was really cute and unique.” You smile and tilt your head to the side. Before you realize it, you are out of the shop again. “Hey, did you just distract me so you could pay without me saying anything?”

“Maybe?” he chuckles and apologetically kisses your lips.

“You can´t keep doing that forever. You know?” You shoot back in a teasing tone.

“I know, but you looked so happy. I just couldn´t help myself.” He hummed, intertwining your fingers again as you make your way back to the shed.

“Ugh, you´re lucky you are cute…” You grunt, but press a kiss to his hand and smile anyway. Kissing Barcodes head as well as he protests in the form of a tiny yip.

[fumikomiyasaki]

"What’s your favorite scary movie", "I hate bobbing for apples. It’s always such a mess." or "Do you like my costume?" for anyone you want?

Halloween themed starters

"What’s your favorite scary movie"

Being done with the annual HSA halloween event even if they were close to win it, the Polisionalle dorm barely missed the win over 3 simple candies and Nanoya sighed seeing the results. However Flynn had a smirk on his hand and pulled his friends hand rushing off.

"What is your plan again, Flynn?"

"You know the night is still young, lets change into better costumes than just skeletons and surprise someone."

The stern Samurai knew what he meant and showed a warm small smile on his face as they both changed up back in the dorm building and went with their new costumes to the NRC Halloween party. However this also meant for Flynn to sneak in, given his usual reputation.. after all was he spotted probably some people would recognize him quick... eventually they could blend into the crowd to find their dearest Amber, Keres, giving out candy to some people as Flynn leaned close to their ear and whispered

"What’s your favorite scary movie?"

They turned around and gasped seeing them both in their costumes... staring in awe and happiness how much they looked like the counterparts to the movies they spent hours on rambling about.

"You two look incredible... I can't believe you would-"

Flynn took their hand and pulled them closer with a smirk, stroking their hair.

"For you I would become anything, my dear Amber."

Nanoya dragged him back.

"Give them air to breath, especially with that fake blood on your chest for effect you could spill it on them, and I don't think they want that."

"I don't mind it."

Nanoya smiled and looked down at Keres with a light blush.

"You look very stunning as well."

As both just stood in silence kinda processing the situation Flynn just grabbed both their arms.

"You two need to loosen up a little, this is a party so lets dance a little. Let me take the lead."

It was chaotic for sure but still, at least Keres now didn't have to deal with some other troubles her friends faced and could just relax with their two polisionalle boyfriends.

"I hate bobbing for apples. It’s always such a mess."

Joining the activities of terrovania, many were focused on one certain person getting all of the attention... Bengal who joined the whole bobbing for apples game mostly pulled it to him cause not only did he manage to make the pirate costume even more open then it already was, basically walking shirtless but seeing the water drip down after he arises from the barrel let many to stare. Hecate stood with small distance to him as he turned his head to her and scoffed a little.

"I hate bobbing for apples. It’s always such a mess."

"Then why did you join it."

"Wanted an excuse to see you and its at least a good snack. But there is another reason."

She looked at him dive in and catch another, being far quicker than any other contestant.

"If I win, Sam might get a big bag of Candy from my win so."

Hearing that Hecate left a small chuckle out of her mouth... so he did care to make them happy is all... despite becoming a wet cat for it.. it was endearing... so she watched him scoot out each of the barrels untill the last. He managed to do it and walked back to her.

"Do I get a little reward for the hard work?"

He leaned down to her just to get a small kiss on the cheek and smirk happily.

"You really don't have to strain yourself that much, Bengal."

"Don't worry about it... Just like to see you smile."

After the contest was done he dropped off the bag with Samuel and Hecate got him a towel to whipe away the water but... that didn't change that he had a cold for the next few days.... to him it was worth it.

_____________________________________________

"Do you like my costume?"

The Halloween festivities went on as Verde tried to use a haunted house as a new scheme to have some fun... but as he placed some lights into position he suddenly heard odd noises from the wall.

"Ohhhhh~"

"Ame, I hear you, come out there."

She popped her head out of the wall but surprised him quite much with how she looked.... cute cat ears, goth harness and her shining eyes staring right at his face that he accidentally fell over backwards.

"Nyahahaha, Gotcha."

"No fair... ouch."

"Do you like my costume? Its not even supposed to be scary and more cute but still I gotcha."

"Its cause you surprised me but.. I admit... you do look cute."

She gasped and floated over him to lean her chest on his back and hug him.

"I can still turn into something more scary for our haunted house but that reaction to cute little me makes me happy~"

"Then get ready, today we are about to scare a ton of people together.. have you brought what I asked you?"

"I did... some fake spiders, glow paint, creaky wood plates... oh and also the blood. Nyehehe... this will be fun."

Both of them sat down on the wodden floor, he explained the plan to her but couldn't help that his eyes wandered on her... she noticed him of course and started to smirk, just to pull his head on her thighs to rest.

"H-hey..."

"Verdy... as my master you need to rest too. Your plan it good but we still have time, so rest a little too will ya."

"Fine but you will listen to my ideas, right?"

"Right master <3 "

[henqtic]

🛏 omg can i get a regulus black blurb with the prompts 38, 6 from wordless ways to show your love? thank you sm you’re amazing <33

authors note: i loved writing this so much, thank you for requesting !!

prompt/s: tucking your head into their neck during a hug + letting them warm their cold hands under your shirt.

FROSTED PRACTICES;

join from my sleepover — closed <3

pairing: regulus black x reader

summary: you were nothing more than overjoyed to accompany regulus at his brothers practice, of course sirius himself not knowing either of you were there, to your knowledge at least— but, you wish it hadn't been so cold. but of course, regulus had a remedy for it.

word count: 753. | warnings: mentions of bad home life, sorta angty but not really 

you watched as the warm breath from your lungs became fog in the cool air, your hands rubbing against your arms now textured with goosebumps as it did.

they were the product of your jackets inability to do its job, forgetting how incredibly warm it looked on the outside but acted so the opposite while you were rushing to leave out of your dorm to get here on time— picking out any random things from your closet that soon showed they wouldn't be offering any real protection.

your face had probably lost much color by now, riddled with a grey tint instead of the usual because of the frost of the air sucking out any hydration that used to be.

the tips of your ears colder than ever, despite the scarf that was once only covering your neck but now them too— also forgetting that no matter how neat the stitching looked, the yarn was cheap and the holes far too big for good wear.

but your nose, you knew it was blazing hot, informing you that in rest or maybe even just a few hours, you'd be ill like many others who made the mistake of not dressing well for scottish winter.

you didn’t want to tell him though, regulus, standing right beside you hidden in a far corner of the hogwarts bleachers— still being able to see his brother from where you were.

sirius had run away only a few months ago, something that while he was sad, maybe even devastated about— not having the only family he knew cared deeply about him no longer there or being allowed to make contact with him, he refused to be upset.

he was proud of him really, being able to stand up to their parents and finally leave— if he had a chance to do so, be rid of the tainted environment, he would too.

so even with his mother and fathers spats after his departure, wicked burning off of his face from the family tree in the hall that left a tear rolling out of sirius’s eye before he slammed the door out and went on his way and, the rest of his family going along with no longer claiming the older ‘blood traitoring’ black, he would never think of doing such a thing.

even if doing so had to be from a distance neither he nor any of his cousins and other closely connected purebloods could see from.

and you were his girlfriend, the minute he asked you to come along for both comfort and support you didn’t think twice but to say yes— knowing it would make him happy just seeing that long forgotten smile on his face again.

but you just wished you had thought out your clothing choices for a second longer because, by the gods and merlin himself, you could feel all of your blood, bones, and skin freezing into place.

“hey, are you alright love?” regulus asked as he moved his attention from the booming laughs of his brother after watching james fall from his broom to you instead.

grin faltering after seeing your shivers, hands cupped over your mouth and nose red enough to be compared to rudolph, all signs that pointed to only going back to the castle and into the warmth of his dorm would help.

“oh yeah, it's just a little frosty out here,” you laughed half heartedly, not having much strength to put your full effort into it but hoping that he wouldn't notice— a dumb thought honestly, the boy could notice everything between an upcoming bad mood and a missed meal.

“c’mere, i have an idea.”

he moved his arms from being crossed over his body and to taking your hands and pushing them under his shirt, instantly curing them with the warmth of his stomach and chest— you automatically sighing out in relief, letting your arms wrap completely around him to get closer, rolling your eyes at his small laughs as he allowed you to tuck your head into his neck.

“thank you reggie.”

“no, thank you for coming out here and everything, shouldn't have let you walk out with proper gear anyways.”

you stayed up until about five minutes before the practice ended, not wanting sirius to see as you left, somehow noticing that he already did— the gaze of his brother not being one he could miss but the multiple appreciate glances he sent your way as you were enveloped with each other being ones you did.

🔖—!!  @harmqnia @eunoniaa @magicchai @ambi-doo12 @ang9lic @daltonacademia @inglourious-imagines @willowmores @arcaneslut @slutfordracoluciusmalfoy @axgelre @beforeoursunsets @selenesheart @o-rion-sta-r @alexavolturisblog @catching-the-train-to-hogwarts @myalupinblack @l0vely-lupin @ameliasbitvh @mauvea @cupids-crystals @wlfstxr @dracomalfoys-wh0re @badass-yn @natashxromanovfreads @redheaded-hobbit @yandere-marvel @remmyywolf @siriusbarnesslut @hogwarts-102 @noellestrash @mrs-brekker15 @malfoysbiitch @nicofiliac @amourslover @darklingbrekksov @coldlilheart @bookfrog242 @rrrrrose @alluringlywhimsical @urskaa @i-love-scott-mccall @i-love-scott-mccall @wolfstar-lb @ohnoitsmekc @candiedfruits @joyfullymulti @wrongilbert @wrathspoet @enchqnting @iwannafeelallthatloveandemotion @whatahufflepuffwrites @instabull @timmyslover

[minachuuu]

Follow The Light [P3]

❣Follow The Light❣ Part 3/3

After months and a lot of waiting, the long awaited end to this story is finally here. My longest work yet, I wasn’t going to shorten it honestly. You deserve every word for all the time I made you wait. Thanks for the support, I hope you like this.🧡

❤ Pairing: Hufflepuff!Jihan x Ravenclaw!Reader

❤ Genre: Fluff & a bit Angst.

❤ Word Count: 10.7k

⚠ Content Warning: Spider!

❤ Song Suggestions: Every Little Thing She Does is Magic by Sleeping at Last & Memories of Summer Rain by Weeekly.

June 20th

Your leg bounced at the rhythm of the muffled band drum outside the tent. Not dissuaded at all by the downpour going on. You could hear the cheers raging, screams coming from one school just being drowned down by another one in an endless roar battle that only seemed to drill further into your skull the more you spent hurdled in there.

If only they knew their own champions aren’t as fixed on the rivalry as they were.

The wind flowing in through the few slits made you shiver, bringing you a perfect excuse for the endless shaking that your terrified mind inflicted in your body. 

A hand reached for yours, warm but careful on its very touch, making you finally snap up your gaze from the floor. 

“It’s going to be alright,” Jihan’s whisper contrasted against the noisy exterior. “You’re a great wizard and whatever happens in there, I know-”

“Jihan…” You stopped her with a mutter. “I don’t wanna go.”

She nodded, understanding. You were expecting some kind of encouragement, some way of lifting as anybody could have given you. But you just received her silent nod with one corner of her lips slowly rising up. 

The sky thundered, as it had for the entire evening heading to this dreadful moment. But each time it was louder, closer. Jihan stood up, slowly walking to the back of the tent and opened it to reveal a somber sky.

“I used to be so scared of storms.” She murmured. “The darkness they brought, the loud sounds and the rumbling of the ground below my feet each time lightning hit. Seven years ago, you remember?” 

Only then she turned around to you, your eyes meeting in a silent request to move closer. So you did, hoping that your silence allowed her to continue.

“All the lanterns went out as I headed towards my dorm and the castle still seemed so big to little me.” Another lighting hit on the hills far away from the school, not facing any of you. “You walked me all the way, even if your dorm was the farthest from mine. And I remember you saying ‘You’re going to be alright, whatever happens just… follow the light.’”

“Champions! Prepare” A voice announced over every noise, cheer and thunder.

But your body tensed in place, only made more apparent when Jihan’s hand grabbed onto your wrist.

“Jihan-”

“Yes, I know that my fear sounds stupid now, but that day you were the bravest person in the world.”  With a little pull of her hand, she turned you towards her, grabbing your other, sweaty hand in hers. “And I know I said otherwise just to tease you before but… To my eyes you are the bravest. I haven’t thought otherwise since then.”

“Time to go Y/n!” Monday’s voice pierced through the tent, hers and Zoa’s shadows already walking past and heading to the Quidditch pitch. 

“Just one last thing from someone who would like to return a favor.” Her eyes rested over yours, as her thumbs caressed the back of your palms in an effort to ground you. Which so far, only with her, had been effective. “You’re gonna be alright, whatever happens just follow the light.”

You nodded, still unable to let out any word. But time stopped, or at least it seemed to. The air pushed you to do something, something that was missing, but you did not know exactly what. You just knew it drew you closer to Jihan. Too close. 

In a last effort to save the awkward silence that had been created by your longing stare, you launched your arms around Jihan, squeezing tightly almost as if you were trying to get rid of all the emotional turmoil going on in your brain. She returned the sentiment, both staying in that familiar, comfortable position for longer than it should have been necessary. 

“Y/n!” Monday’s voice sounded farther, but more urgent. 

“You should go, if they come looking for you they’ll know I was here. Besides, the others might wonder where I’ve been.” Jihan chuckled, breaking her hold and stepping back. She covered her head with her cape, opening the tent enough to pass through. “I’m rooting for you Y/n. Good… good luck.”

With those words, she sprinted out to the stands, where she would probably make up an excuse for her tardiness. It’s against the rules for someone to be in the champion’s tents just before the competition. But she managed to stay there for a while, without being discovered for a while. One could wonder how she managed it. 

You made your way out of the tent, onto the corridor that connected the three champions tents. Monday and Zoa stood there almost at the end, just behind the curtain.

“There you are!” Monday sighed. “What took you so long?”

You glanced at her over the shoulder. Straight posture, beaming smile… Not a sign of any nervousness in her at all. 

“Just… meditating.” You stammered, shaking your head.

“Sure…” Zoa chuckled. “I didn’t know meditation could make someone have a full conversation with themselves in two completely different voices.”

Your head snapped towards her, your eyes probably shooting bullets against her because she stepped back, quickly composing herself.

“Relax. I heard nothing.” She tidied her uniform, as if the exchange had made it wrinkle or stain in any way. But no, she was just a Beauxbatons student. “The tents may allow some sound to travel, but not all.”

“Why didn’t you say anything?” You buffed. “You know it was against the rules. One less contestant and the cup would have been for any of you.”

“Oh, we considered it. But… we will keep it a secret if you tell us what happened there.”  Monday buffed, examining her nails. It impressed you how unpreoccupied she seemed with the whole situation. 

“There must be something juicy if you were so scared at the possibility of me listening to it!” Zoa sneered, only getting herself a light push from Monday as they both laughed at my confused face. “Like, some gossip going around school, who are the bets favoring, if she got a secret boyfriend-”

“A what?!” You coughed, something dropping at the bottom of your stomach.

“Just an example!” She raised her hands as if she was guilty, shrugging her shoulders. “Really, nothing?”

But was it really just an example? It had elicited such a guttural response from you that it didn’t feel like any sort of innocent example. And that, added to the nervousness, seemed to irritate you further.

There you were. On the other side of that curtain was a maze with withhold obstacles, enchantments and magic that could even potentially end your life, and these two you where about to go into it with, that you agreed to put your life into their hands in some degree… were just making jokes as if this was just another friday night for them.

“Nothing.” You murmured flat.

Their laughter died slowly as they realized you were not having the same fun as they did. But before anyone could say anything to dissipate the tense air that now surrounded you, the Hogwarts march boomed in all glory and louder than any of the other songs.

“Remember. We find each other first.” Monday whispered just as the curtains opened by themselves and revealed you three to the roaring crowds awaiting.

Monday and Zoa stepped forward like celebrities on a red carpet. Used to it, unbreakable with gleaming ear-to-ear smiles. You followed just a few steps behind, barely able to conceal your shakiness and just able to get a faint smirk at the corner of your lips.

The competition had really been starting far before any of you made an apparition, and the stands were the proof. While you were going to be those in the maze, the people that surrounded you and screamed your name seemed already sweaty, delirious in some way. You managed to perceive your name being chanted amongst all the rage and screams. 

You put a hand to your ear to make the crowd go even wilder. The already deafening clash of cheers roared even louder, drowning even the surrounding thunderstorm that seemed to only have turned into a light breeze in comparison.

You looked up, just now wondering how you weren't already soaking wet. But to your surprise, the droplets of water seemed to crash against an invisible crystal raised above your heads. Of course it wasn’t crystal, but some kind of enchantment that also surrounded the quidditch stands, as most spectators, except for the sweaty ones, seemed to be completely dry. 

It took a while searching but you spotted Jihan, Jaehee, Soeun, Jiyoon and Soojin there in the stands, all sitting together calmly waving banners and flags from each school. They contrasted the furor surrounding them, almost as if they knew that damaging their vocal chords wouldn’t affect the competition whatsoever.

A sturdy hand poised itself over your shoulder, revealing Dumbledore standing right behind you when you turned to him, offering you an assuring smile. It was part of the ceremony, as Monday and Zoa both were accompanied by their own headmasters too as the crowd kept their roars coming and the march was finally coming to an end.

It wasn’t long until Dumbledore stepped forward to address them and Mr. Flitwick, took his place on your side. With his wand pointed towards his neck, Dumbledore raised the other as for the stands to calm down. He waited until there was enough silence, total being impossible just thanks to the downpour happening above, to start speaking.

“Earlier today, the Triwizard Cup was placed deep within the maze. None of the competitors know its exact location.” Dumbledore explained. “They will be going inside in ranking order so first going in, from Beauxbatons, Zoa!”

The crowd exploded in what could only be described as a polite cheer. It wasn’t savage but coordinated, almost rehearsed. Zoa bowed courtfully in response, received by the stands with only, but vigorous applause.

“Second, from Hogwarts, Y/n!”

The roar was way different, the people not sure if calling for you or just screaming like a wild banshee in excitement. The volume was significantly different too, with Hogwarts being the host of the games, it was almost guaranteed that the entire school was here, cheering for you.

“And last but not least, from Durmstrang, Monday!” 

That was one savage cheer. Somehow their celebration rivaled Hogwarts in volume while still being overpowered in the matters of people. There was such pride and hope that you wouldn’t know Monday was in last place out of all of us, and Monday seemed to play perfectly into it, like if she was showering in their ovation.

“It is worthy to mention, that even though the ranks stand currently like this, the differences are so minuscule, that this task can change everything. First to touch the cup, will be the winner. Not only from this task but from The Triwizard Tournament.”

The uproar exploded at Dumbledore’s words, not only the tension had been building until this moment, but it was only now revealed that anyone could be the winner. Not in past years where there were obvious losers and there wasn’t any real competition, but really, this time, it could be anyone’s game.

You couldn’t focus on anything but your friends sitting in the stands right above you, and if your vision wasn’t fooling you, Jihan wasn’t looking at anything happening around but you. And only to confirm it, she flashed a quick shy smile to you that you couldn’t help but return. You noticed how her arm raised just a bit above the people in front of her, holding her thumb up to you to which you softly nodded in response, visibly sighing. 

“Our school staff patrols the perimeter, if any of the contestants wish to withdraw from the competition, they must cast Vermillious to the sky. If you happen to see red sparks, notify the nearest school staff immediately.” 

As what could be so dangerous that one would want out of there and even ask for anyone to notify of the emergency signal with urgency, you wouldn’t know. But that high implications and warnings weren’t easing your nerves at all.

Dumbledore signed you three to come closer, no longer addressing the crowd. Glancing at each other, Monday, Zoa and you walked towards him, as he encircled you with his arms, creating a somewhat private bubble for the four of you.

“Inside you won’t find dragons or creatures from the depths.” His tone wasn’t addressing an overly excited full arena anymore, but scared people, people in danger. “Instead you will face something way more challenging. You see, people change in the maze. Find the cup if you can, but beware that you might just lose yourselves along the way. What you will find in there will try to break you, try to change your values. Don’t let it. That’s the real task.”

You all nodded and just for a moment there was a faint glimpse of insecurity in Monday’s and Zoa’s eyes that only disappeared when they exchanged glances. A full conversation going on between them in just that glance and nod.

Somehow that irritated you even more than the joking from before. You were supposed to be an alliance. However it felt like you were not really included in it, or worse, planning something without you. 

“Champions!” Dumbledore called you, but clearly more as a spectacle for the audience as he was no longer looking at any of you and the cheers went back to loud. “Prepare yourselves!”

Three entrances to the maze behind your back, to which each of you posed, ready for your name to be called.

“On the sign of a canon, each champion may go in.” 

And suddenly everything turned silent. Not because everyone had gone silent, but because your mind couldn’t bear it all. Like someone had put earmuffs on you, everything sounded muffled and distant but your own heartbeat. 

Too engrossed in your own internal battle, you didn’t notice the first boom. Zoa’s canon. You didn’t even turn to see her get lost in between the tall hedges of the maze. All worrying about your strategy. 

Did you even have a strategy? It’s not something you and your allies ever talked about. The only plan was ‘Find each other’. And now that you had time to actually think about it, it sounded even harder than just finding the cup. 

The cup wouldn’t move, but Monday and Zoa would. And what if one found the cup before even founding each other? Was it fair to just grab it? Would you have to ignore it and go find the other ones? Did they know what to do but forgot to tell you? Because it seemed like it. It seemed like they were going in already knowing everything about this. And you, you were going in as good as blind.

The second canon shook the floor and raised you off your feet. It took a second to render that that was your entrance into the maze. Still, you looked around for some kind of confirmation and Monday just nodded back at you.

You didn’t sprint in, more like cautiously stepped inside the walls, the cheers growing farther and farther away until there was nothing. Nothing but actual silence. The maze had closed off behind you leaving you at what could now be a dead end with only one path forward.

Only now you noticed the cold and the heaviness wearing on your clothes. Of course, the enchantment that covered you from the rain wasn’t over the maze, so the longer you stayed in there the more possibilities of ending soaking wet. You wouldn’t help but wonder if the rain was brought in purposefully as another obstacle or just something that didn’t help your case at all but definitely brought an edge to the task.

“Lumos.” You shook your wand, going forward one step at a time and making sure you didn’t miss anything.

And for a while what you saw was all there was. Towering hedges that obscure the entire path with heavy rain forbidding you from seeing farther than a few feet away from your nose. 

So far, after what for you felt like excruciating hours of turning and walking, and walking and turning, the only thing threatening enough was the impending boredom that was creeping over you. You wondered about those outside. Was there a spell that allowed them to see what was going on inside? Or they just stared at the same hedge for hours on end, waiting for anything awesome to occur?

The only thing keeping you from sleeping was the impending doom that the maze’s reputation had. That somehow, after not encountering anything or anyone for that matter, the moment you dropped your guard everything would come crashing down. 

Speaking of anyone… What a bummer of a strategy. ‘Find each other’. Saying it was easy, but each had their own separate entrance. And surely the maze was constructed in itself to make encountering each other relatively hard.

You were about to give up, when a sudden ruffle in the foliage straight across from you caught your attention.

“Monday? Zoa?” You approached, wary. Pointing your lit wand over at it.

Another ruffle. Too quick to be a human, unless it was running for its life.

You jumped away, but too slow to see one hairy leg creep out from the fog. Then another, and another, and another. And you wouldn’t stay to watch how many more it had. More than four was already more than you could bear.

Your feet acted without even having to ask for your permission, sprinting away from the concerningly close rainfall of steps following you. It was sure to be an acromantula. But you wouldn’t even dare to turn around to see it. 

But then a flash of light and sweep of wind ended in something crashing against the hedges, behind you. No more rain of steps following you. So you dared turning around.

“Zoa!” The first glimpse was your first word as you reached for her but a second too late. 

A spider the size of a car bounced over her and it took everything in you not to run away from one of your biggest fears, realized in front of you. 

Zoa tried her best, it was little what a human could do against such a beast. 

“Flipendo!” You launched at the spider, but it barely moved it an inch. 

It did manage to anger it a lot more though. One second you could move and at the other you were swept off your feet, completely attached to the hedges by a thick, gooey, string-like material that surrounded you like a cocoon. You watched, completely paralyzed as Zoa tried wrestling her way out of its grasp to no avail. But if there was something you both knew is that, one doesn’t get out of an acromantula’s attack alive.

You could see that Zoa was trying to cast anything, but the acromantula was making it impossible to do so. Swiping her arm, attacking her so hard that her winces didn’t even let her finish the spell.

One managed to hit, sending the beast flying far enough to let her take a breath and glance your way. 

“Relashio!” She launched your way and you fell down to the ground. Free of the constraints. 

Zoa had only bought enough time for one spell only and she used it to free you, but that meant the beast was once again over her. And a painful, sharp scream coming out of her mouth as her wand flew out of her hold, and a totally not healthy-looking arm was enough to know she wasn’t getting away.

“Go!” You heard her cry. 

But you couldn’t. You couldn’t just sprint away and leave her like this. So you did the only thing that you could. 

“Vermillious!” You pointed your wand at the sky, red sparks flying to the sky and exploding like a firework. 

Immediately, the branches forming the hedges started moving on their own, surrounding both Zoa and the acromantula and leaving you behind. 

Zoa mouthing ‘Go!’ to you as tears cascaded down her face was the last thing you saw before the hedges obscured everything happening on the other side.

Too much, too much to bear. Why had she done that? She knew that if she got away the acromantula would’ve jumped straight for you next. If you both did nothing it would’ve finished her first and then gone straight to you. She had time to save one… It just was too big of a question to know why she had chosen you instead of herself.

You were running away, not even noticing where you had been turning and going after a while. And you had no intention to stop. Maybe you ended up getting to the cup by mere accident.

A blow took all the air out of your lungs and sent you flying backwards. You quickly readied your wand to attack back but you were only met with the really confused face of Monday.

“Y/n! There you are!” She quickly stood up, offering you a helping hand.

“Zoa…” You managed to mumble against your shock.

“You found her? Is she with you?” She looked around to no avail as you tried composing yourself.

“No she…” You stuttered, a knot forming on the back of your throat. “She’s gone.”

“She’s dead?!” She gasped, covering her mouth in shock.

“No! Well… I don’t know. I hope not!” You scrubbed your face with your hands, as if trying to erase the images off your mind. “I was getting chased by an acromantula and she saved me but I- I couldn’t save her! I just casted Vermillious and hoped for the best. I couldn’t… I’m so sorry!”

You launched yourself to Monday’s arms, who received you in them with a certain degree of shock but still allowed it.

“I’m sure she’s okay. You did what you could and I know it was more than enough.” But you could tell she only said it to try and calm you down. “C’mon, let’s get moving.”

You nodded. Thankful for at least not being alone the rest of the way.

And the rest of the way was a long one. Another uneventful trek that seemed to last hours on end. It almost felt like you were both walking in circles around the same paths. 

“Over here!” 

Turning a sharp corner, you were sure finally somewhere unexplored. But only because of the huge sphinx standing right in front of you. Human face and lion like body, even its eyes glowing in yellow as it moved its head down to acknowledge your meek existence.

“Only those who answer a riddle correctly shall pass.” The sphinx’s resounding deep voice enveloped you. “Those who fail await a tragic destiny.”

“I don’t think we should risk it.” You tugged at Monday’s sleeve, already turning around.

“No, we have to.” Monday pulled you back. “Think about it, why would they put something like this here? This must be the way!”

“There has to be another way!” You pleaded, shaking at the obvious impatience of the sphinx that overlooked you both. “There are hundreds of other paths we haven’t checked, this can’t be the only way to the cup!”

But Monday can’t be bent or convinced. She stands her ground and you know there’s no use otherwise. So you anchor yourself in the ground, wand ready in your hand, ready for anything that may try and hit you.

“Give us your riddle.” Monday defies the sphinx, who proudly smiles as it tilts its chin up.

“I hurt the most when lost, yet also when not had at all. I’m sometimes the hardest to express, but the easiest to ignore. I can be given to many, or just one. What am I?”

Monday and you stand in silence, seemingly waiting for the other to answer first. 

I hurt the most when lost…

A tooth? No, too trivial. Probably a limb. Would be logical except for the fact that riddles are never logical. Maybe something outside of our body, even not tangible. Money? No. Knowledge? No.

Suddenly your mind finds itself flooded. Almost literally as it takes you back under the water to the second task. And quickly your mind is full of memories of Jihan. 

Jihan. It did hurt. When you lost her. But did you lose her? To lose something you must first have it. And that's where the riddle’s second part clicked in.

…yet also when not had at all.

You knew there were so many unspoken things in between you every time you were together. But not even you knew what those were. It was so common that for you at least it had started to become easy to ignore those impulses.

I’m sometimes the hardest to express, but the easiest to ignore.

It was all too perfectly fitting to be a coincidence. But could it be? Jihan couldn’t be the answer to the riddle. Not her name at least. 

Then it dawned. All the unspoken things, the impulses, why it hurt not being able to call her yours. The answer wasn’t Jihan, it was what she had meant for you all this time.

“Love.” You mumbled. 

“Correct.”

It was barely audible, but the sphinx eyes glowed on an emerald green as it smiled, moving aside to let you through. You didn’t move, stuck to the ground by the weight of your heart and the one realization that it had just come to.

“Awesome!” Monday celebrated, janking you off your place as she made a sprint towards the newly opened path.

But a quick blow sent you flying back, the sphinx paw blocking you from moving forward.

“Not fair!” She grunted, “Let us through, we answered the riddle!”

“Each has to answer a riddle if you both want to go through.” The sphinx head snaps towards Monday as fast as stone can move, glaring through her. “You have not answered one yet.”

“Fine!” She rolled her eyes, shaking her arms as if she was getting ready for any kind of physical combat. “Shoot.”

“I can break, I can be clogged, I can be attacked, I can be given, I can be kept, I can be crushed, yet I can be whole at the same time. What am I?”

You haven’t even started to think about a possible answer when Monday has already blurted out hers. You shake your head trying to make up the sound you heard come out of her mouth but nothing comes to mind. That’s when you see crimson red glowing in sphinx’s eyes, and you know your ally is in trouble.

“Incorrect.”

The wind starts to circle both of you as the giant statue stands up, growling towards you. Not you, you answered the riddle correctly. Monday. But having sworn an alliance you might as well be included.

You watch her hold on her wand weaken as she mentally scrambles for anything she can do. The wind has turned into a full blown windmill that only encircles her but leaves you on the very side of the strong currents. 

“Monday!” You shout her name, her eyes searching for you in fear. 

“Vermi-” She’s about to cast the red sparks to the sky when a paw blows her away and crashes her against the hedges.

Loudly crashing against the ground, you can see how the hit has blown all the air out of her lungs. The sphinx is already raising its other paw when you sprint forward, putting yourself between them. 

“Bombarda!” You cast and a loud explosion makes the sphinx back enough so you can get to Monday. “Are you alright?!”

She can’t answer but allows herself enough strength to point at the direction in which the sphinx is already charging full speed towards you. 

“Expulso!” That one is enough to send the beast against the hedges, tangling it enough to keep it there but probably not for long.

You help Monday rise to her feet and the groan coming from her mouth instantly tells you that there’s something very wrong. She collapses on your arms, holding on around your neck for stability.

“My foot…” She manages to mutter under her breath. 

“C’mon, it can’t be that far.” You try to encourage her, to pull her in the open path ahead of you but her whimpers are getting worse each movement. 

The sphinx has freed one of its paws from the hedges and its roaring and fighting for more freedom.

“Y/n, I can’t- I won't make it.” She shakes her head, looking for your eyes. You can tell that she’s fighting back tears of pain as she talks to you.

“You can’t leave me!” You keep trying to drag her with you, but each step just makes her heavier and harder to carry. “We said we would do this together.”

“And we are, we got you here.” She clears her throat, weakly punching you on your arm. “Now you just have to finish it.”

You give up and both fall to the floor. You weren’t the strongest person in the world, if Monday can’t handle her own weight there is no way you would be able to do it all by yourself. Who knew how long until you finally found the cup, and if her foot got any worse…

“I never wanted this!” Gritting teeth, fists so tensely closed you can feel your own nails digging into your palm. You tried to contain all the rage, all the fear building up inside. “I don’t know if I can do this alone.”

“You have to.” But Monday keeps her calm, one would believe that the one with a broken foot isn’t her. “Promise that you will.”

The sphinx roared again, the branches keeping it away slowly snapping one by one. It wouldn’t be long until it was free again, now unleashing its fury in worse ways.

“If you’re not going to do it for yourself or for us…” Monday swallowed,  shaking her head. “Do it for her.”

“What?” Your face dropped. 

Her? What did she mean by her? Who did she mean by her? She didn’t have to say it, her eyes were tattooing it on your skull.

A huge crack made both your heads snap. The beast was finally free. You launched yourself in between them but Monday pointed her wand at you and waved it before you could even respond back.

“Flipendo!” Monday sent you flying away from her. 

You were just about to answer to the treacherous spell, but then you realized she only moved you away from the path of the sphinx. The hedges were moving, creeping between to obscure your sight and enclose you alone.

“Do it for her!” 

The last thing your eyes caught was the red sparks launching to the air as the sphinx launched itself over Monday.

Nothing. Everything was black. You weren’t even sure if you had your eyes opened. You didn’t want to. There was enough going inside you to be bothered with whatever was happening outside.

Do it for her.

Monday’s words bounced around your brain out of control. Does she mean the same ‘her’ that your mind was being flooded with? You didn’t want to say it. Not her name. Somehow it made it official. 

She was the answer to the sphinx’s riddle. Not her. What she reminded you of. What you felt for her. 

Love.

It was inescapable. Obvious even when you joined the last puzzle pieces together. 

You loved Jihan. 

Of course you did. Of course you had to find yourself in the most inconvenient situation to find out how deep of a crush, no not even a crush anymore, how in love you were with your best friend. And of course everyone knew about it before you. Even Monday and Zoa that you had only known for the last months.

The Yule Ball, the Second Task, all the failed ‘tours’ that Soeun and Jaehee planned… It was right in front of you. 

A scream crept all the way from your guts, passing through your heart and out your mouth, where the wind seemed to be your only witness. 

With both Zoa and Monday out of the competition it was only a matter of time to see if you found the cup and became the winner or deflected and by default with the other ranks, give Zoa the title. 

Everyone could be eagerly waiting for any sign of either of them too. Anyone including Jihan. 

Jihan who you could just now picture, holding on to her own knees and burying her head between them as she softly rocked back and forth. Because she did everytime she was nervous and was trying to keep it in. 

You always put your arms around her, swang at her own rhythm until she decided to come out of her shell and usually rest her head over your shoulder. Oh the times that simple gesture made your heart speed up and you only ignored it. 

But you couldn’t do it right now. You weren’t there. In fact the same very reason that she was nervous was because of you. Because you were stuck here in the middle of a stupid maze. 

Was she even thinking about you? Of course she was, at least by title you were still best friends. But, was she thinking about you in that way? In a way that could allow you to come back and embrace her and maybe finally even kiss her.

A kiss. You had never actually let that thought really bloom in your mind until now. As soon as it even sparked you shut it down. Like last week at the greenhouse. You were leaning in for a kiss. Of course you were. That’s why the mistletoe made you wary. But Jihan? 

What if she wasn’t thinking about you? You had been so engrossed in your own feelings that you hadn’t considered for a second if they weren’t reciprocated. But it wasn’t the time to think about it. Or was it? You would have to come face to face with her once you got out, if you got out. And in regards to a quiet place to think, this was as good a place as it could be.

For someone on the outside you must have looked like a little child throwing a tantrum. Jihan, the maze, your feelings, the cup. Jihan, the maze, your feelings, the cup. The thoughts circled in your mind as you stomped around in complete darkness. 

You were lost, in more than one way.

You were about to light up your wand, when a tiny flicker of light caught your attention in the corner of your eye. Like watching a bright star against the night sky, it was little but enough to show a long path forward. 

Follow the light.

Someone whispered in your ear. Not someone, Jihan. You jumped, eager to find her around but you were completely alone. You shook your head, scanning around for any other signs that wanted to appear to you.

You’re gonna be alright, whatever happens just follow the light.

Trust, That’s what your entire body lit up with. After all, it had never failed you before. That tip at least. And while it wasn’t your logical mind, or borderline instincts that told you to head towards it, it was your heart leading the way. Freed, listened to instead of being suppressed for the first time.

Sprinting towards the light, it became bigger and brighter the closer you got. Your eyes had to adjust to the intensity as the gleam took off more and more of the view, finally allowing itself to have a shape.

The cup. 

Your feet held on to strength you weren’t even aware you still had in you, upping the speed to which you headed to the final goal, the way out.

There it was, shining in blue clouds of misty light that seemed to call your name louder and louder. Only, a few steps away from you. 

You launched yourself over it as soon as it was reachable, but it only sent you flying even farther, twisting and turning as you held on for life from the cup's handle.

A loud thump marked your arrival… somewhere. Your eyes struggled to open but once they did the world kept moving all around you. The way your insides felt like they were all in the wrong place could only be the sign of one thing. Portkey.

Once your sight decided to stabilize itself, you realized you were somewhere completely foreign to you. 

It wasn’t raining at all but the sky above you was pink, with tones of yellow and red as it stretched over the horizon. And there was something in between the sky and you, even if you couldn’t see it clearly. Glass. In fact the whole room was made of glass.

You slowly pulled yourself up from the ground, only managing to get to a sitting position before your head started turning again. Every corner of the room was covered by foliage and flowers. Flowers of every color and size and smell. A little taste of paradise on a greenhouse.

But this wasn’t Hogwart’s greenhouse. Instead, to your mind arrived tales of the time Zoa described you Beauxbatons. A school so mesmerized by beauty. One could clearly see how she fitted in. But you completely contrasted it all. Soaking wet, your uniform torn by a few branches and a sweat-dirt concoction covering all skin spots available. But you wouldn’t be all the way out in France. Would you?

In the middle of the room a bird bath stood out from the foliage, its water’s waves reflecting light that made the bushes dance with sparkles. Only it wouldn’t be a bird bath, since the place was completely closed to birds. It was even a bit deeper and shining in a light that a simple bird bath wouldn’t be. 

You had only seen one of these once. In Dumbledore's office far back the only time you had gone there. You asked about it, he responded but you never got to try it or seen anyone else try it. A pensieve.

Carefully prompting yourself up, you notice a note and a tiny bottle up against it. Closing in, you realize the note reads:

‘Hey champion. Take a look, thank us later.’ Signed Zoa and Monday.

So it was all a plan. That’s what all the secrecy and glances between them were, the one thing you thought you had been left out of was actually a plan to let you win. For this. But why?

You grabbed the bottle, tiny enough to get rolled between two of your fingers. It only contained barely any liquid in it, barely anything more than five drops. But for a pensieve that would be more than enough.

One drop, two drops, three even for measure. The pensieve shines in a silver, cloud like mist that moves ceaselessly. 

A deep breath, and your head goes in. Instantly being sucked back into Hogwarts, a younger Hogwarts, where you walk along a group of little kids. First graders, unsorted, whispering between them as they eagerly move towards the Great Hall for the first time.

There you are at the very back of the group, age eleven. How you felt like such a grown up, away from home and on your own in this new adventure. And now that you see it from outside, it’s just looking at a lost, little kid, not even aware of the wonders and trials that await them.

You walk along yourself, your younger self obviously not even aware of your omnipotent presence. They are so awed and charmed by the new school that they don’t notice the group is already far ahead from them.

That’s when you see her. A little girl with flowing black hair running all the way from the group to you. 

“Don’t be late!” She shouts, making your younger self jump. “You don’t want to miss the sorting ceremony!”

You just stand there looking back at her, clearly smitten at first sight. But you quickly brush it up just in time to see her offer her hand to you.

“What’s your name?” She smiles, leaving you stuttering back.

“I’m- Y/n.” You manage to spit out. “Y-you?”

“Jihan! It’s my pleasure.” You take her hand, offering her a weak handshake. “C’mon, there will be plenty of time to look at the castle later.”

You nod, finally able to smile back at her. She pulls you with her and with that you know you’re a goner. Well, you from the present at least. You from the past still has seven years ahead of denying it and shoving it down deep.

As soon as that pair enters the doors, still hand in hand, everything around you changes in a whirlwind. Leaving you now strolling around the library.

Even knowing that you won’t disturb the scene, the sole sight of Madame Pince makes you static, holding your breath. You’re not the only one thinking the same because a very familiar voice sighs right beside you as she walks away.

“Alright, she’s gone.” A young Soeun mutters and grabs Jihan by her shoulders. She pushes her to the most remote free compartment available with Jaehee just behind them.

You don’t recall this memory at all. Of course, you’re not even around to begin with. The only common link between this and the last memory is Jihan. Could this be her memories?

Your friend’s age must be around thirteen or fourteen. Third or fourth year perhaps. You followed them to a space where Soeun and Jaehee cornered Jihan, who only shielded herself behind a pair of books against her chest.

“What’s wrong Jihan?” Soeun whispered with such urgency that made the Hufflepuff girl widen her eyes.

“Wrong? I don’t know what you’re talking about.” Her laugh comes out forced, as she shrinks her shoulder. “Everything is fine, really.”

“Oh we’ve known you enough to know this isn’t fine.” Soeun scoffed, only to be shushed by Jaehee beside her. “You keep avoiding us completely.”

“No I haven’t.” Jihan defends herself, but is unable to keep eye contact with them. 

“Jihan.” The Slytherin girl turns even firmer, crossing her arms over her chest.

“I haven’t been avoiding you.” Jihan assures. A sigh escapes from her mouth and her volume drops to where you have to step even closer to hear her. “I’ve been… needing some space from Y/n.”

You did remember that time. Back in third year. She was just always behind the same reason for not being able to hang out with you. Exams. 

“Did you two fight?” Jaehee takes over Soeun, who seems a little stunned to keep her stone cold facade. 

“No… I-” You can tell Jihan’s struggling with the words inside of her, even slightly bouncing in her place before barely muttering behind the books. “Ilikethem.”

A loud gasp escapes your lips and you cover your mouth immediately. You let it go once you remember you’re only an invisible spectator but your mouth still hangs open in awe. 

She likes you. She does. Or at least she did. 

You can tell your other two friends are equally as stunned because they stutter before even being able to form one single coherent word.

“What?” Soeun furrows her eyes back at Jihan.

“I like them. I like Y/n. Fancy them.” Jihan spits it all out louder, still behind her books and by the time she peeks up you can see her face painted entirely in red. “Please don’t say anything!”

“No we… we won’t.” And they didn’t. They never did. Gotta give them credits for that. The other two girls slowly dawn on the realization as they relax their defensive stands. “Why don’t you just tell them?”

“No!” Jihan was quick and loud to react, gaining some sushes from all around the library. She gulped and continued in a whisper. “Look, I wouldn't like to ruin our friendship. We’re alright like this. It’s just a quick crush. It will pass. But please… not a word.”

As the place disintegrates and changes again all around you, you can’t help but wonder if she really did get past it. If your chance has come and gone and you weren’t even aware of it. The ball drops on your stomach, making you dizzy and heavy at the same time. 

Now you find yourself surrounded by the great hall. The floating candles were much dimmer and there was no light coming from the windows. Only signaling the very late afternoon. It wouldn’t be long until everyone was called to bed. It was almost empty, with no more than five people sitting at its tables. One of them being Jihan.

It could have been yesterday, at least not far away from the present. The Durmstrang and Beauxbatons banners clearly indicate it as the present year. She looked radiant by the candlelight but something wasn’t right. You could hear her sniffs, her hand raising up to her eyes to clean a falling tear. You sat beside her, wishing this was more than just a memory to be able to hug her and clean her tears for her. 

“I’m here.” Jaehee’s voice made you both jump, but it was clear she could only see Jihan. “Alone, just as you told me.”

“I need you to do me a big favor for me Jaehee. And Soeun can’t know anything about it or she’ll be mad at both of us.” Jihan composed herself for the sake of your friend, who couldn’t help but glance her way with a certain degree of pity. 

When Jaehee nodded back, Jihan pulled out of her coat a closed plastic bag with a paper attached to it, a paper that was made from the same materials of some of your books. The Gillyweed you used for the second task.

“I know you share a room with Y/n. I need you to go and give this to them. They… they can’t know where it comes from.” Jihan put the bag on the table and pushed towards Jaehee. “Or who sent it. Can you do that? Please?”

You can see the hesitation in Jaehee’s eyes as she scans the bag, but one glance above to the Hufflepuff’s broken eyes and she doesn’t even doubt it. She grabs the bag and conceals it inside her own robes, nodding back.

“Anything else?” Jaehee is careful to address Jihan, like handling a very fragile porcelain doll in itself.

Jihan can only shake her head and mouths a thanks back when Jaehee takes off the table, leaving Jihan alone once again. Except she isn’t. You are there and you would do anything to show her that. To tell her that she can go give that bag personally to you and say everything she ever wanted to say. But you can’t. And she won’t. Because it’s only her memory. And it’s equally as painful as yours were from around the same time.

“Even after everything that happened.” Soeun’s voice makes both of you jump in surprise. She emerges from the shadows, with her arms crossed against her chest.

“Soeun, please don’t be mad. I…” Jihan can barely find her words, stammering as Soeun closes in. “I know you said it would be best to let them go but… I can’t. I can’t let them go. I want them to be okay.”

Jihan breaks down in tears and against her own fears, Soeun catches her in her arms, surrounding her and letting her sob freely against her shoulder. 

“You’re not mad?” Jihan manages to mumble.

“I wish I could. I… miss Y/n too.” Soeun sighs, tightening their hold on the whimpering girl. “Sometimes I even feel guilty that I threw them into this mess. Nothing would’ve happened if we didn’t make that stupid bet.”

“It wasn’t your fault.” Jihan slowly surrounds Soeun with her own arms trying to comfort her back, but it’s still obvious who’s the most hurt. “We didn’t know they were going to be picked. I just wish things would’ve been… different.”

The slytherin girl strokes her hair in an effective effort to calm her down. Until nothing but soft sobs escape Jihan’s lips.

“I know we do…” Soeun leans back to help wipe Jihan tears as a light scoff escapes her lips. “If I didn’t know any better, I would bet you still love them.”

Jihan glances up to her, sniffing out the last of her tears. But Soeun finds an answer in that short stare that makes her pull Jihan back into a hug.

“You do, don’t you?” She sighs. The hufflepuff girl softly nods as she buries her head once again on her shoulder, clearly trying to keep tears from flowing back to her eyes. “How do you bear it?”

Jihan turns her head to face outwards, as if she could just see you sitting there, doing nothing but witnessing the scene, unable to do anything. Just watching her suffer because of your decisions.

“I guess repressing it or pretending that I’m unable to feel anything hurts worse than just letting it be.” She mumbles. “Every time I’ve tried I just end up more miserable. Having Y/n as a friend is just better than not having them at all…”

“And that’s why this is so hard for you.” Soeun whispers, letting down her entire guard just to let her friend be vulnerable with her.

“I’ve spent years trying not to lose them, Soeun.” Tears are running freely on Jihan’s face again, but she doesn’t hide them again. “And I still did. I still did.”

The whole place gets swept up by a whirlwind before you can even say or do anything about it. Pulled to your feet, you bolt out of the pensieve for air as if you had been submerged in its water all that time. Maybe you were, physically. 

But once again you find yourself back at the greenhouse. Panting for a breath and with your heart beating so hard it might as well jump out of your chest.

Heartbroken Jihan wasn’t something you ever wanted to see. But because of you? It made it unbearable.

Of course that’s not where things are right at the moment. You saved her in the second task and talked again. Made up for the lost time and even for some days she even made you forget the whole ‘tournament’ thing. 

You wiped your face dry with whatever you could and not even completely succeeded, when you noticed the note had changed its contents. No longer the short message it was before.

“Do what you like with this information. We do think that you would make a cute couple though. Please don’t be mad at us. And don’t tell anyone about the portkey or we’ll all be in serious trouble. Get your cup champion, you deserve it. See you back in Hogwarts.” Signed Monday, Jiyoon, Zoa, Soojin, Soeun and Jaehee.

All of them were rallying behind this. One would think this would be an even bigger show of union between the schools than the tournament ever was. How many wingmen are needed for one couple, who has been deeply in love with each other for years, to finally get together? Apparently, an entire army.

You looked around for the cup and found it resting over a rose bush, eagerly waiting to be touched again. 

A deep sigh, closed eyes and a second of mental preparation for the turmoil that was traveling in a portkey and you grabbed on to the cup for dear life. 

Your body was yanked out of its place, One drop, two drops, three drops of water and suddenly the whole world was waving around you. You opened your eyes to find yourself lying with your back on the grass of the Quidditch pitch, not a storm anymore but a light drizzle of water falling over you. Surrounded by towering tall hedges that were moving all around you, they were forming a straight path from where you were to somewhere.

Not somewhere, the faint sound of applause and cheers appearing within your earshot told you exactly where it was leading you to. Ignoring the little dizziness still left in your body, you jumped up to your feet and started racing the maze. 

Gaining every single drop of might and strength left in you, the hedges looked like they were rushing to open up in time just for you. The closer you got the louder the crowd was, and the Hogwarts march was booming with even more excitement than before. 

Just a few steps left and that’s when the light hit your eyes. Just barely sunset on the other side of those hedges. No more rain. Just the golder hour hitting you straight, like an all natural spotlight announcing your victory.

“-May I have the honor to announce…” The light wasn’t the only announcer. The pride on Dumbledore’s voice being even more present. “The winner of the Triwizard Tournament…”

The brightness hit you all at once, blinding you. But it wasn’t long until your eyes started making the stands facade and the jumping, ecstatic crowds that called your name. 

“Y/n!” 

Fireworks, music, crowds, the feeling of a warm towel immediately being put over your dripping wet body by Madam Pomfrey. 

But it was all distracting, at least from the one thing you really wanted. You scanned the crowd, once, twice, more than the times necessary and even to make sure that’s exactly where you had seen your friends sitting before the task started, but they weren’t there.

“Congratulations.” Dumbledore’s voice made you jump back, barely noticeable in between the roars of the people chanting your name. “I see you’ve changed. Against my suggestion.”

“Thanks… Professor. I- I did?” You bow, slightly embarrassed at his remark.

“A brighter smile, a certain glance. The look of a champion.” He smirks lightly, raising his eyebrow at you. “You won something else in there, didn’t you?”

“Yeah…” You couldn’t help the smile that came with the thought of your friends, of Jihan, as you raised the cup in your hands.

“Some prizes are even better than the cup that’s in your hands right now.” He pointed to the entrance to the pitch. Soeun, Jaehee and Jihan, all waiting for a sign to run and hug you. Barely able to contain their excitement in the little hops they had. “Go on.” 

You were about to sprint toward them when he clears his throat, making you turn.

“By the way, I hope you enjoyed your little trip to France.” And with a final wink he turns around to talk to other people.

So that really was Beauxbatons. And how did he even know? Was he in on the plan? Or was he just being… Dumbledore?

You shook him off your head and ran towards your friends with wide and open arms, which they took as an open invitation to do the same your way. 

It wasn’t long until you all crashed together in a huge, well-known to your heart, hug. Of course Jihan outran the other two, jumping and clingling her legs around your waist and the only thing keeping you from falling down was Soeun and Jaehee closing in the embrace.

And just like this, you finally felt that you had won. Not the march or the thousand people chanting your name, or the fireworks. Just three people and their arms surrounding you. But you still had to claim the bigger prize.

“You did it!” Soeun broke the embrace first. “You freaking did it! We knew you could do it!”

“Look at that thing!” Jaehee was like a crow to shiny things, pointing at the cup as she marveled in its entire glory. “Does it have your name? Tell me you will engrave it. Or will it engrave itself?”

“On that thought…” You chuckled at her simplicity. “Could you grab onto it for a bit. I have to do something.”

Jaehee was more than willing to grab it, along with Soeun too immersed in the cup to notice you taking Jihan by the hand and a few steps away from them.

“So you won!” Jihan was happy, excited, but clearly keeping something to herself. Her eyes couldn’t find yours and her hands not daring to even touch you but shaking all over the place “I had this whole speech about how proud and all of that but I guess I forgot it. It’s finally over, right? I can’t believe that you-

“Jihan…” You grabbed her hands in one of yours, enough to cut whatever words she was blurting out.

“Yeah?...” She stammered, her eyes finally encountering yours in what can only be described as wishful longing.

You wanted to say something, anything about all that you saw, all that happened inside that damned maze. But no words came to mind, no word was enough. So there was only one thing that could say everything going on in your mind. 

And with greater might than the one needed to fight a dragon, the depths of the darkest waters or a deathly maze, you cupped her face with your hands and pulled her closer, crashing your lips against hers. 

A gasp, the sound of metal clanking, a roar in the crowd and then nothing. Nothing but your heart and hers in complete unison as your lips tasted all the hoarded time, desire and shoved feeling of years. And their taste was sweet. Sweeter than any love potion, than any honeydukes sweet meshed together. 

You backed up without even opening your eyes, but aware of the beaming smile plaster all over your face. Slowly coming back to earth, the girl in front of you was nothing if completely entranced, not even sure of what just had happened. 

That when her eyes, glittering from all the stars and fireworks in the sky, found yours.

“I love you.” She muttered. Only immediately to shock herself, covering her mouth to shut herself up. Wide eyes and a stammering mouth, she could only shake her head at you. “I mean, yes! No, wait. I like you too. Love you? That’s too soon, isn’t it? Or is it? I can’t-”

“I love you too.” You mumbled. 

“What?” She stopped herself from thinking anything. Letting her entire weight almost collapse on itself.

“Jihan…” You laughed. Part not believing the reaction of the girl in front of you, part relieved that a weight that you had been carrying all this time was finally out there. “I love you too.”

She didn’t even wait around to hear it a third time, launching her arms around your shoulders and finally allowing her lips to take yours. You secured her close to you as the momentum of her jump sent you flying in circles. 

Long overdue, that’s the only thing your bodies were finding in common. And it’s not like it wasn’t familiar. Her hugs, her scent, the way her soft skin felt against your hands. Just more magical. With that bugging sensation that something was missing finally out of the way.

That was the price for the tournament. Home. And if you had to fight dragons, dive into the depths of the darkest waters, or face a deathly maze all over again just to be received by her arms and soft, caring lips against yours… You would do it all over again.

“Mission accomplished team!” The voice sounded hoarse but you could still hear Monday coming in closer. 

And you turned to look at her but instead found Jaehee and Soeun picking up the cup from the floor and dusting it, Soojin grabbing a full arm cast-wearing Zoa and what you wouldn’t anticipate, Monday being rolled in closer in a wheelchair by Jiyoon.

“Oh my-” You quickly turned their way, careful not to let go of Jihan’s hand, who was equally as shocked as you. “Are you okay?!”

The other two champions only chuckled, looking at each other with another glance that could only mean they knew it could happen, and shrugged.

“We will be.” Zoa assured, offering both of you a tender and honest smile as her eyes trailed down to yours and Jihan’s hands intertwined. “At least it was worth it.”

The comment made both of you blush intensely, only retrieving back to each other's embrace again. Not willing to let go ever again.

“But I don’t get it.” You started, shaking your head. “You all knew this? All of this? For us? You let me win just for us?”

“It would have been easier…” Soeun nodded, handing back the cup to you. “If you had made it easier.”

“We knew about Jihan’s feelings, but you…” Monday scoffed as her eyes pierced right through you. “You are a tough stone to crack.”

“It would’ve been a fair competition if you had gotten any of the clues before.” Zoa patted on Monday’s shoulder with her abled arm. “But in the end we decided that Monday and I only had money and a pretty cup to win. You had a lot more in the game.”

“And we would get the money anyway so… Yeah.” Monday added. “And we wanted to make up for what happened at the Yule Ball.”

“I don’t know how I will ever thank you enough…” 

“How we will ever thank you for everything.” Jihan rested her head over your shoulder, unable to keep the giddiness away.

“It’s alright, just… invite us to the wedding, would you?” Monday only received a slap in the head from Jiyoon. “Hey! What?! Too soon?”

The commotion was easing around the stands, with some students already leaving to join the celebrations back at the castle. And you took a moment just to let it all in. The winner of the Tournament, and most importantly the winner to Jihan’s heart.

You leaned forward at the girl peeking at you from your shoulder, joining your lips once again in a tender, not hunger-ridden kiss that only made your entire group swoon all over again. 

“Excuse me-” An unknown voice made you turn to find the photographer clearly embarrassed from having to break the sweet moment. “Can I take your picture for the Daily Prophet?”

“Of course!” Everyone was already side stepping to let you shine in your own spotlight, but something didn’t feel right. After all, you were the carrier of the cup but the merit wasn’t all yours. The photographer was only finishing when you stopped him. “Before you go I… Can I ask for something?” 

The little man nodded as you approached him, whispering something in his ear. With a smile brightening his face, he accepted your proposal and readied himself again.

But this time you reached for Jihan’s hand, kissing the back of her palm. She only looked at you confused at your gesture but clearly smitten.

“I need a picture with the real price, don't I?” You whispered to her before calling everyone else to you. “C’mon team! I want one of all of us together.”

And just like that, Jihan cuddled up to you, Jaehee and Soeun surrounded you both with their arms. Jiyoon placed Monday beside you as she leaned forward to her and Zoa dragged Soojin besides Jihan. 

“Alright, I will need you to look at the camera and smile wide!” The photographer ordered. “Perfect, on the count of three okay? One…”

Maybe you started the year with the left foot. Maybe everything wasn’t exactly as you planned it. But well, nothing ever was. A lot of bumps along the way, two people that lost their way completely and now, were just hand in hand together with no intention of ever letting go.

“Two…”

You looked around. The real prize surrounding you completely. Friends that you knew since the first year and those you only knew from a few months back. And somehow you knew they were going to be there… for the rest of your life.

And Jihan. The biggest and best prize of them all. Not only her but the freedom to open your heart and have it embraced by hers. By all of them. 

You squeezed Jihan’s hand tighter, smiling forward and preparing yourself for the flash light. Funnily enough this is how it all ended. With a light. The one you were following all this time. You found it.

“Three!”

[hyogonokitsune]

blush -- suna rintarou x reader

here’s some soft suna smut, go fetch!

edit: here’s pt 2 and pt 3

virginity loss, slight praise kink, oral (f receiving), whoops! rintarou has feelings

4700 words

--

You were not quite sure how you all ended up on this topic, but it didn’t surprise you one bit that Atsumu was the one to bring it up.

“So how old were ya when ya lost it?” he asked with a grin on his face.

Suna glanced up at the sky as he thought about his answer. “Fourteen, I guess.”  

“Ugh, man! You beat me!” Atsumu groaned in annoyance. “I was fifteen.” It was slight, but you caught Suna giving him a self-satisfied smirk. Atsumu turned to his brother next. “What about you, ‘Samu? I don’t think I ever asked.”

“Pfft, like hell I’d ever tell you,” was the only response he gave.

The four of you were walking through Inarizaki’s dark campus together after the team’s evening practice. It was early autumn, and although the days were still warm, the temperature at night was beginning to dip lower and lower. You shivered as a crisp breeze blew past, digging your hands further into your jacket pockets.

“What about you, y/n?” Atsumu asked, peering down at you. “How old were ya?”

You had hoped he’d forgotten about you, but now that he had directly asked you could feel your cheeks reddening slightly. “I, uh, I haven’t done it yet,” you answered sheepishly.

“What, seriously?! You’re a virgin?” Atsumu’s eyes widened in surprise, but they quickly squinched shut when Osamu smacked him on the back of the head.

“Yell it a bit louder, why don’t ya? I don’t think everyone on campus heard you, dumbass.”

“Ouch, sorry,” Atsumu muttered in apology, but your blush had already deepened. “I’m just a little shocked to learn that our precious manager is a virgin.”

“It’s not really that big of a deal, honestly,” Suna said, his voice low. It was a little unusual to hear him defend anyone, but you were grateful for it all the same.

“Ya know, y/n, if ya ever wanna lose your virginity, I’d be happy to help out,” Atsumu said, giving you a salacious smirk. You rolled your eyes at his offer, a small laugh escaping from your lips as you flicked him on the side of his head.

The path split then, and Suna turned left to continue on by himself to the campus dorms. He waved goodnight to the three of you, and you noticed that his eyes lingered on you for half a second too long before he turned away.

 --

 Click, click, click

Your thumb pressed repeatedly on the end of your pen as you stared hard at the words in front of you.

“Hey, knock it off.” You looked up at the sound of Suna’s voice, his irritation plain on his face. “It’s annoying.”

The two of you were sitting on the floor of his room, Suna propped up against his bed and you leaning against the opposite wall. Loose sheets of paper and an open textbook were on the floor between you as you both studied for an exam the next day.

“Sorry, I didn’t even realize I was doing it,” you muttered, turning your attention back to Suna’s notebook on your lap. You were reading through it, checking that there wasn’t anything he had written down that you had missed in class. In truth, you were finding it hard to concentrate on the notes, as something else was nagging at your thoughts. You hadn’t been able to shake the conversation you’d had the other night, and despite Atsumu’s suggestion, he wasn’t the one you had been thinking about since then.

You had heard rumors around campus, and stories from some of the girls in your classes. At first it had made you a little uncomfortable to know such personal details about someone you had to see every day, especially since he wasn’t aware that you knew, but over time you gradually got used to it, and you were beginning to wonder about what it might be like to experience that firsthand. You were sure that it wouldn’t get out. After all, those rumors that you had heard had come from the girls themselves, never him; if you didn’t tell anyone, no one would ever have to know about it. Besides, after two and a half years spent on the same team, you two had grown rather close. There were few people that you could trust more than him, and, in your opinion at least, that was the most important factor influencing your decision.

You just had to think of a way to tell him.

Suna’s low voice cut through the silence in the room. “Maaan, I’m beat. What time is it?” he asked, stretching his arms over his head.

You glanced at your watch, sighing a bit when you saw how late it was. “Half past ten.”

“Fuck.” He rubbed at his eyes. “I think we’ve crammed as much as we possibly can for tonight.”

“Yeah, you’re right,” you replied as you stood up. The two of you started tidying up his room, and you gathered your books and pens into your bag.

“You want me to walk you to the bus stop?”

“No, I’ll be alright.”

“’Kay.”

You had your hand on the doorknob, ready to leave, but you found yourself unable to turn it.

“Suna?”

“Hmm?” he hummed, and when he turned to look at you, you felt an unexpected surge of confidence well up inside. If you didn’t tell him now, you didn’t think you’d ever be able to.

Dropping your hand from the doorknob, you angled your shoulders to face him head on, willing yourself to look him in the eye. “I want you to take my virginity.”

There was a slight widening of his eyes, almost imperceptible, but you caught it before his face fell back into its usual indifferent mask. There was a moment or two of silence, and you tried to keep yourself from panicking; maybe he was just trying to gauge how serious you were.

Eventually he spoke, the corner of his lip quirking up into a cheeky grin. “You sure you don’t want Atsumu to be the one?”

You couldn’t stop your eyes from rolling. “I think I’d rather die, if I’m being honest.”

Suna laughed then, short but genuine, and you felt the tension ease from your shoulders. “I’ll do it, if that’s really what you want.”

You gave him a quick nod, hand reaching towards the door again.

“Come back here tomorrow.”

 --

 You knocked twice on Suna’s door and it opened almost immediately. He must have just recently gotten out of the shower because his hair was still damp, a droplet of water clinging to a lock of hair next to his cheek as he stared down at you.

“I was half-expecting you not to show up,” he said, a slight smile on his lips.

“Why wouldn’t I?” you asked as you squeezed past him to step into the room; he offered no response.

You dropped your bag and blazer onto his desk chair, and when you turned around Suna had moved into the center of the room, within arm’s reach.

“Are you sure you want to do this?” There was an uncharacteristic note of concern in his voice that made your heart melt.

You gave a slight nod, a small smile on your face. “I’m sure.”

Those two words were all he needed.

Suna closed the gap between you in one step. His left hand came to rest on your waist, his right moving up to cup your cheek as he leaned down to place his lips on yours. His kiss was unexpectedly soft, and you couldn’t stop a tiny gasp from escaping you in surprise. This wasn’t a Suna that you were familiar with; this was a Suna that was unbelievably tender with his touch, but you could feel a more passionate side simmering just beneath the surface by the way that his fingers ever so slowly applied pressure to your waist.

Unconsciously, your hands moved first to his shoulders, then to the back of his head, where your fingers buried themselves in his damp hair. Your touch encouraged him to draw you in closer, his arm snaking around your waist to press you against his body. His kisses were becoming firmer now, deeper, more urgent, his tongue slipping past your lips to brush against yours.

A feeling of warmth was in your chest now, spreading down throughout your body, and with it came a sudden feeling of uncertainty. Suna broke away from you and stepped back to sit on the edge of his bed, and the sight of him there suddenly stole away all the confidence you had felt earlier.

“Come here,” he said, his voice barely above a whisper. The sound of it made your legs feel weak, but you forced yourself to step towards him. His hands moved to your hips, intending to pull you closer, but you put your palms on his shoulders to brace yourself.

“Wait a minute,” you said, a little breathless.

“You okay?”

“Yeah, I just…” Your voice trailed off and you swallowed hard. “I’m just a little nervous.”

You were embarrassed to admit it, but to your surprise Suna smiled, and the gentleness on his face was reassuring. “Yeah, I think it’s normal to be a little nervous.” One of his hands left your hip to move to your elbow. His fingers dragged lightly down your forearm and wrapped around your wrist, so that he could lift your hand and press it against his chest. “I’m a little nervous, too.” You could feel his heart against your palm, beating a little faster and harder than normal. The proof of his own anxiety made all of your apprehensions disappear, and you leaned down to kiss him. Before he could deepen it, you broke away again.

“Suna?”

“Hmm?”

“Could we turn the light off?”

“Of course,” he grinned, leaning over to switch off the lamp on his bedside table.

The room became dark, but the sun had only recently dipped below the horizon and your eyes quickly adjusted to the cold blue light coming in through the window. Suna’s body was outlined against the bed, his features hazy in the dim lighting, but his eyes were clear as he gazed up at you, imploring you to come closer.

He guided you down onto his lap, one of his hands on each of your thighs to place them at his sides. His kisses were needier now, almost hungry in the way that his mouth moved against yours. His hands slid up to rest on your hips once more, and when he slowly tugged them closer, dragging you over his hardening cock, you couldn’t stop the moan that bubbled up from your chest. You could feel him grinning against your lips, but you couldn’t find it in yourself to be embarrassed, not when the feeling of his body under your hands was causing that heat to grow in your core.

“Does that feel good, baby?” Suna asked, his voice breathy and low. A blush crept up your face at his words, the tone of them so much more intimate than anything you’d heard before. You grinded against him again, causing him to moan lightly into your mouth.

Your hands slid down to press against his chest, fingers clutching at the fabric of his shirt. He paused kissing you just long enough to take his shirt off, tossing it onto the floor before grabbing your waist and drawing you in even closer. Tentatively, you brought your hands back to his chest. The heat of his skin, the pounding of his heart, his heavy breaths emboldened you, prompting you to explore more of his body. Your fingers traveled lightly over his chest, across his collarbones, onto his shoulders, across the back of his neck, down to his shoulder blades; every place you touched gave way to growing desire.

Suna’s hands wandered up your stomach and over your breasts to undo the buttons of your blouse, but he couldn’t undo them fast enough for you; you suddenly couldn’t stand another moment with the fabric between you, you needed to feel your skin pressed up against his now. Your fingers moved to the bottom of your blouse and quickly worked their way upwards, meeting his in the middle before tearing the shirt from your body.

His eyes roamed over you and he whispered something that you couldn’t quite hear. Before you could say anything, his head moved to your neck, pressing hot kisses into your skin, down the column of your throat and over your collarbones. The top of his head tickled under your chin, making you giggle; his lips left your shoulder with a wet sound as he turned his face up to look at you, but you dug your nails into his arms and whimpered at the loss of his touch.

“Please don’t stop,” you breathed.

Suna gripped you tightly around your waist to lift you off of him and shift you so you were lying down on the bed, his body leaning over you. Pulling one of your legs up so that he could position himself between them, he resumed kissing your neck, his warm breath tickling your ear. His hands worked their way down your sides, a trail of goosebumps left in their wake, to come to rest at the waistband of your skirt. He lifted his head to kiss you on the lips briefly before carefully tugging your skirt down over your hips and off your legs. His eyes lingered on your purple lace panties, moved up to your matching bra, and finally to meet your own gaze.

“These are cute,” he said with a smirk, one finger lifting up the band of your panties and letting it snap against your skin.

“Shut up,” you groaned, covering your blushing face with your arm.

“Did you match these just for me?” he teased.

“I said shut up, Rintarou!”

You heard a sharp intake of breath, and lowered your arm to see that the look on his face had shifted into completely unconstrained desire. He kissed you then, tongue forcing its way into your mouth, greedily swallowing your moans. You could feel yourself getting wetter as he pressed his cock in-between your legs; the sensation was becoming almost too much to bear.

Suna pulled away suddenly, and a thin strand of saliva briefly connected your mouths, glinting in the low light. “Hey, do you want me to wear a condom?” he asked, rubbing his thumb slowly over your bottom lip.

“Oh!” You were lying in his bed half naked, and his tongue had just been in your mouth, but for some reason that question made you feel shy all of a sudden. “You don’t have to, if you don’t want to. I’m, uh… I’m on the pill,” you told him, feeling your cheeks heat up again. He only nodded once before leaning in to kiss you again.

One of his hands slowly slid up your side to your breast, his thumb rubbing over your nipple through the fabric of your bra. When he broke the kiss to move his lips to your neck, you leaned forward slightly to unhook your bra, tossing it on the floor with the rest of your clothes. Suna sucked in a breath at the sight of you, gazing at you almost reverently before placing his lips back on your throat, letting his hand blindly fondle your breast. Moving slowly, he made his way down your throat and over your collarbones, planting sloppy kisses every few inches, until his tongue was swirling small circles around your nipple, feeling it grow harder at his touch. At the same time, his other hand was pressing into your hip, fingers digging insistently into the soft flesh. That hand now started moving down over the outside of your thigh, pausing almost at the knee before running back up along the inside.

You gasped when he touched your clothed pussy for the first time, his fingers brushing against your clit through the fabric. You would have felt embarrassed at the wetness you felt seeping through your panties, but the feeling of having him touch you in so many places was too good for you to care. He was rubbing circles around your clit, causing a knot to form deep in your stomach. You reached with both hands into his hair, gripping the back of his head tightly as a pitiful whimper escaped you.

“Oh, Rintarou…”

“What is it, baby?” He leaned forward to plant a kiss on your cheek, his hand still working slowly between your legs. “What do you need?”

Another pitiful sound left your mouth and your nails dug into his shoulders. He sat up straight, his free hand coming to rest on your leg as his other continued to draw soft moans out of you.

A new feeling had settled in your chest, a need that you had never experienced before. It wasn’t enough to have him simply touch you; you needed to feel him inside of you.

“Rin, please,” you practically begged him, reaching towards the waistband of his sweatpants.

He gently pushed your hands away, a low chuckle rising in his throat. “You’re not ready yet, baby,” he told you in a soft voice. “I don’t want to hurt you.”

Groaning, you fell back into the pillow, your breath coming out harder as he started kissing the inside of your thigh, slowly, painfully slowly, moving closer to where the heat was pooling between your legs. Both of his hands now hooked under your thighs to rest on top of your hip bones, pinning you in place. He kept his eyes on your face as his tongue ran almost lazily over your panties.

“Oh my god,” you gasped, head tilting back and eyes squeezing shut.

“You’re already so wet,” he murmured, and you could hear the smile in his voice. He was still licking you agonizingly slowly, relishing the way you squirmed around him. “Do you want me to taste you, baby?”

“Mm hmm,” you answered, a little too quickly in your eagerness to have him touch more of you. He moved one of his hands to hook a finger under your panties, pulling them to the side to reveal your glistening pussy.

His mouth was on your bare clit now, and the sensation was overwhelming. It was different from all the times you had pleasured yourself; this was warm and wet and achingly soft, and it was causing the coil in your stomach to rapidly tighten. He hummed lightly, the vibrations running over your clit and causing you to practically scream. When he lifted his face away from you, you nearly cried. He slid your panties down your legs and tossed them on the floor, leaving you completely bare before him.

Suna leaned back down, tongue running up and down your folds, swirling around your clit, kissing all over your pussy. Every single contact made your back arch, made your hands grip the sheets a little more tightly. He traced a finger along the edge of your pussy, gathering up the wetness before slowly pressing it into you. You clenched around him as his finger curled up to press into the soft spot within you, the spot that made your breath catch in your throat. You opened your eyes to look down at him; his mouth and finger were still at work on your pussy, but his gaze was trained on your face, sage-colored eyes glinting in the dark.

The coil in your stomach finally snapped, your orgasm falling over you in waves of intense pleasure. Your toes curled, legs tensed up around his head, hands reached down to wind into his soft hair.

“Rin-Rintarou!”

Suna kept his face pressed into your pussy, sucking gently on your clit as you came around his finger. The overstimulation was becoming too much, and your breath was coming out in labored sobs.

“Rin, p-please, stop!”

Immediately, he pulled away, crawling over your body to kiss you hard on the mouth. “I like the way you taste, cutie,” he sighed into your ear, nuzzling at your neck. “And I love the way you moan for me.”

You were panting, still coming down from your high. Suna’s hand came up to caress your face, thumb rubbing gently over your cheekbones. He waited for your breathing to even out before sitting up to remove his pants. You couldn’t help but stare at the way his cock looked; you had no reference point, but you were pretty sure he was above average.

He lazily stroked his cock with one hand as he shifted your legs with the other, positioning himself close to your entrance. He dragged the head over your pussy, coating it with the wetness there.

Suna was looking straight at you again. “Are you ready?” he asked, his voice breathless.

“Yes,” you told him. He leaned down to plant one more kiss on your lips, before slowly pressing his cock into you.

All the time he spent pleasuring you already ensured that you were relaxed enough to take him, but even so, he went slow. He sank in a few inches before pausing, allowing you to adjust to his size as he peppered your face with kisses, before giving you some more. It took a full minute before he completely joined his hips to yours, a soft groan escaping his lips.

“Are you okay, baby?” he asked, his voice impossibly soft.

“Yeah.” You gave him a small smile, hands running up the backs of his arms to rest on his shoulder blades. It felt so incredibly good to finally have him inside you, to fill you up completely. There had been a slight pressure when he first entered you, but that was subsiding now, and you could fully enjoy the way his cock stretched you out.

Suna pulled his hips away from you, his cock dragging slowly along your sensitive walls. The loss of him drew a soft whimper out of you, turning into a moan when he pushed back in. His pace was unhurried at first, but with each breathy sigh you made he increased his speed, pulling out a little further each time.

“Rin, oh, oh…”

“God, you’re so fucking tight,” he moaned, lips capturing yours in a wet kiss. “You feel so good, baby.”

He bent down to take one of your nipples into his mouth, rolling it between his teeth with just enough pressure to make your spine arch, fingers gripping his shoulders tightly to let him know that you wanted more.

“Rin, I-I… oh god-”

He straightened back up so he could look into your face, his thumb and forefinger continuing to play with your nipple. “Does that feel good?” he asked in a low voice. You nodded, eyes squeezed tight against the pleasure, and another soft whimper left your throat. “You’re taking my cock so well, baby,” he murmured; you could feel the knot in your stomach tighten at his praise. “Do you want more?”

“Yes, please, please…”

He quickened his pace even more, hips snapping into yours hard enough now to apply deliciously pleasant friction to your clit. You couldn’t have stopped the sounds leaving your mouth even if you wanted to; every thrust of his cock made you come undone a little more. The pleasure radiated throughout your entire body, making you feel slightly lightheaded.

Suna placed both hands on the backs of your knees and lifted them, pressing your legs towards your chest. The new angle of your hips allowed his cock to press into that spot inside you that made your breath burn in your lungs. The feeling was unbelievable; you had never felt pleasure like this before.

Your eyes snapped open. Suna was staring down, watching his cock sink repeatedly into your dripping wet pussy. When your hand gave his shoulder a small squeeze he looked up, eyes locking with yours. His face was etched with determination, all of his efforts going towards making you feel good. His cheeks were flushed pink, and his eyes contained something that you couldn’t quite place.

“Are you gonna cum for me, princess?” His voice was husky, gaze burning with desire.

“Yes, Rin, please don’t stop,” you breathed out between gasps.

He kept his pace consistent, hitting that sweet spot over and over and over again. Your nails were digging into his back, leaving tiny crescent-shaped indentations in his skin. The knot in your stomach was tightening, tightening, tightening—

“Rintarou!” you cried out as the second orgasm overtook you, breath catching in your chest. Your legs trembled under Suna’s hands as he kept fucking you through it, groaning as your pussy clenched around him.

He could feel himself getting closer. He slowed his pace, leaning over to press hard kisses into your neck as you came down from your high. When your breathing started to even out, his lips moved up over your jaw and to your mouth. You kissed him greedily, hands moving to entwine themselves in his hair.

“Where do you want me to cum?” he asked, voice slightly hoarse. He was still moving against you, cock pumping slowly in and out of your pussy.

“Ah… oh,” was all you could manage to squeak out.

“Hmm?” He nuzzled his nose against your neck, warm breath tickling your skin. “Where, baby?”

“Inside… I want you to cum inside me,” you whispered.

With a groan, Suna started thrusting into you harder again. The wetness between your legs was audible with each stroke of his cock, and the sound of it only made him come closer to the edge. The sensation against your clit was pushing you into overstimulation, tears springing up in the corners of your eyes from the sheer pleasure. You reached down with one hand to grasp at his thigh, nails digging into the muscles working to join him to you, desperately trying to pull him closer, closer.

“God, I’m so close…” he murmured, face held so near to yours that your noses bumped each time he pounded into you.

“Oh, you feel so good,” you moaned.

“Can you say my name, baby?” His voice was hardly above a whisper.

“Rin,” you sighed, and his hips snapped into you almost urgently. “Please cum, Rin, I want you to cum for me…”

He buried his face in your neck, groaning deeply as he came. “Fuck.” You could feel his cock throbbing inside you, hot cum spurting deep into your pussy.

He was still for a moment, breathing hard against your skin, before slowly pulling out and rolling over to lie beside you. You felt some of his cum drip out of you, blushing at the sensation. The two of you were silent for a while, your panting breaths the only sounds in the room.

“How was that?” Suna asked eventually, turning onto his side to face you. You suddenly found yourself unable to look at him, pressing your face instead into the crook of his neck and humming contentedly. He chuckled softly and wrapped an arm around you, pulling you closer to him. “I wasn’t too rough with you, was I?” he asked, an uncharacteristic note of concern in his voice.

“Not at all,” you told him. “I liked it.”

You fell silent again. With your body pressed up against his, you could feel the beat of his heart, slowly steadying from its rapid pace. His skin was so warm, and you didn’t even mind the slight sheen of sweat covering both your bodies. You took a breath, inhaling his scent; you couldn’t describe what he smelled like, you just knew that he smelled good.

You weren’t sure how much time had passed, but you must have been lying there for at least a quarter hour. You lifted your head to look at him and saw that his eyes were closed. Did he fall asleep?

“Rin?” you asked tentatively.

“Hmm?” His response was a low rumble in his chest; you could feel the vibrations against your palm. His eyes were still closed.

“Why were you nervous before?” You wriggled in his arms a bit, trying to get a better view of his face. “I mean, it wasn’t your first time.”

He opened his eyes, only to glance at you briefly before turning his head to look up at the ceiling. “It was my first time with you,” he mumbled, so soft you almost didn’t catch it.

With your hand still on his chest you could feel when his heart started beating faster. Peering at his face in the dark, you could have sworn you saw Suna Rintarou blush.

--

➣ masterlist

[the-trinket-witch]

Peaceful Shadows (Pentergeist)

(Original Prompt and Artwork via Piraticus Dorm)

Content warnings: Vehicle accident, parental death, dead-naming, angst??)

The Winter Festival. RSA had let out for the winter break; it was a fantastic feeling being home after this first semester being away. He had been bundled in his long coat and scarf alongside his mom, sharing similar shades of copper in their hair. The wool sweater he wore was a great tool for his decreasing dysphoria. His mom had been so quick to accepting Albert as the name of Her son, in lieu of his previous name. He could always count on Her being on top of that kind of thing. His father, notably absent from the holiday as usual, likely either forgot about the transition or wouldn’t bother putting it to memory. At least, that’s what Albert had assumed. 

Altus, for all its brassy glow and warm lights across the city, still found pockets of snow collecting on street corners and sitting undisturbed in grass. It served as a nice backdrop for all the lights strung up across the city. Street vendors and shops stayed open well into the night. Why close when half of the traffic comes out once the sun sets to gander at the light displays? 

He always trusted his Mother to drive. He wasn’t yet completely comfortable; she might have been a side-seat driver with the best of intentions, but he was definitely not yet confident driving in the cold slick. He remembers clearly what they were talking about: since his father, John, wasn’t able to make it for the holiday, it’d be a relaxed Celebration-eve. He quipped a small joke which made Her laugh. Her laughter distracted just enough to miss an oncoming light-runner. He gasped at the anticipated crash. His arm flew to the door, the other yanked to tighten the seat-belt. She cranked the steering wheel which sent the car spinning, skating in the ice towards the other car. A horn blared, as if it would have mattered. Headlights flashed across the dashboard only to retreat and return as the car spun. His skin prickled with adrenaline. Eyes slammed shut waiting for impact. 

Once it came, and the car finally stilled, did he finally attempt to open his eyes. Glass, glass and twisted steel filled his doubling vision. The now broken horn blared, the smell of burning rubber and petrol assaulted his nose. His head throbbed, blood rushing to distribute adrenaline. His lap and chest ached, no doubt later he would be gifted a seat-belt shaped bruise. Safety bags had deployed and since deflated. Everything ached, from unclasping the seat-belt, to craning his head to see his Mother unconscious. 

The rest was a blur. A whirlwind of lights from emergency vehicles, sirens blaring, questions hurled left and right. 

“Where does it hurt? Do you know where you are? Can I have you lean back for me?”

His consciousness flickered in and out for what he would later learn was a couple of hours. In that time both She and he were sent to the hospital. He sustained only the aforementioned bruise along with a quickly-remedied dislocated shoulder. His Mother, on the other hand…

It had been 3 days. John finally found a reason to wrench himself from work. She had been in critical condition those 3 days, having taken the brunt of the impact. Albert hadn’t left Her side for anything outside of absolute necessity. He had just come back from grabbing water, supposedly his Father was supposed to keep watch. Instead, he had met him in the hallway, trying to mask a grave look on his face. 

“Alic-Al. You seem tired. I’ll keep an eye here. I have things set up and I’ll call you if something changes.” He said. Not surprising he got his names mixed up.

“I’m fine. I still have a few days left for break. You probably have work to catch up on, anyway.”

“I can take time off for this. Go home and get some rest.”

It was more of an order than suggestion. Albert wanted to slap him, for bold-face lying to him after this. He knew he was going to make some Pie-crust Promise that She was going to be fine. A phone call to completely dash his hope. He knew it was coming, it had happened almost every night, like clockwork. And it was about time he woke up from this recurring nightmare. He could already feel the dark blanket of the waking world frame his sleeping visions. 

He woke up with a sigh. 5:00AM. His alarm was for 5:30, but at this point he might as well have gotten up. This wasn’t a new phenomenon for Albert Eastwind, Pentergeist Dorm Leader, and ‘Practically Perfect’ student. Nightmares have been his companion since the crash, and with it has come the baggage of dread it fills him when it’s time for sleep. There’s a crashing weightlessness that jostles him back into the side seat of that car, when his eyes close. Until transferring to Night Raven College, he didn’t realize that mind-compelling magic had a similar effect. He hated it. A professional would say dreaming so quickly is the body’s attempt to recapture lost sleep, but then, Albert wasn’t a professional. All he understood is that Sleep brought Nightmares, and Nightmares brought back memories. He wanted to ‘get over’ all of it, it hurt too much. It made him overthinking, controlling, paranoid. 

As he dressed, he tried shaking the last flecks of the nightmare from his mind. It was enough to occupy him instead of noticing a dark green glow under his pillow. 

“Well, Time to start the day.”

[macnevercries]

Fantasy

(Deku x F! Reader)

warnings- stepest, mentions of alcohol, dubcon/noncon, penetrative sex

♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡

It’s fun to pretend. You run down the sidewalk, bidding your friends goodbye and stumbling a little, alcohol still in your system. Your heart beats quickly as you run faster, it’s scary to be out at three in the morning alone. Make it a game, you’re playing tag and you will be less afraid. You round the corner and bounce up the steps to your house, parents gone on a business trip so you decided to stay here for the weekend instead of your college dorm.

You turn the key and the lock clicks open, shutting the door quickly behind you. Once you’re inside you sigh happily, you win. You know that no one was chasing you but sometimes it’s fun to pretend to be a kid again, run from monsters that don’t exist, blood coursing through your veins as your heart pumps faster than it ever should.

Imagining running from a dragon, your pretty dress flowing behind you as you tear down the hallways of your castle. Studying to become a writer had its perks, being alone for you was never boring when you always have a story in your head.

You toss your keys on the counter, flicking on the kitchen lights and turning on the stove. You should probably eat something before you go to bed, alcohol and an empty stomach don’t mix well. You sift through your parents fridge, humming a tune softly.

“Why were you out so late”

You jump at the voice, whipping your head around to face a large chest. Broad tan shoulders block your view. Slowly turning your head up, you meet the green eyes of your older brother.

“When did you become the bad kid, out past 3 and” he leans forward, taking a whiff of you “obviously drinking, what happened to college?” he smirks.

“Why aren’t you at your job? You shouldn’t be here” You retort, a little defensive and embarrassed you were caught. Izuku won this game of tag and you didn’t even know he was playing.

“I’ve been working, just wanted to take a break and visit my lovely little sister” He leans foreword and pinches your cheek. His touch lingers a little too long, brushing his large fingers down your cheek. He always did love teasing you. You move around the barricade that is his body, continuing your conquest for food.

He frowns at the space you put between you two, coming up behind you where you stand in front of the stove. He grips your waist, tickling you.

You burst out in a fit of giggles, bending over as he finds your weak spot. “Iz-zuku stop, I’m trying to cook”

He lets you go but doesn’t move far, breathing over your shoulder with every movement. He’s very protective of you, as any older brother would be. But sometimes it was strange. You didn’t need a knight in shining armor, but he didn’t seem to understand.

You fry two eggs, plating them and sitting down. Izuku sets a cup of water in front of you, taking his place across from you. Your dining room used to be a throne room to you, but with your adult brother it felt so much smaller.

You nod at the water, an inquisitive look on your face. He laughs at you, “You need to sober up”

You frown, not fond of the idea of letting go of the warm blissful feeling the alcohol had left. You drink it anyways, bringing the dishes back to the sink but not washing them, you could do them tomorrow. You trudge over to the couch, flicking on the the TV. Izuku follows your every step, right behind you at all times.

After staring at the brightly lit screen for what felt like hours, trying to ignore how close your brother was, you got up from the couch. He moved up to follow you and you snapped.

“Why do you keep following me, can I use the bathroom alone?”

He falters at your tone, taking a step back. “Oh yeah, my bad I just miss hanging out with you, like we used to?”

His implied words make you shudder, things you’ve tried to forget resurface in seconds. A princess shouldn’t be with her knight, especially if they ‘serve the same king’. Ever since his dad married your mom, things have been weird between you two.

Sneaking into rooms at night, exchanged kisses that weren’t quite right. It was wrong and you knew it, but you could never get enough of him. As you grew older and he went away for school you realized how bad it was and you tried to forget, vowed it wouldn’t happen again.

You walk up the stairs, a little bit too quick. He stays in his place on the couch but watches you go, your hips mesmerizing him. You change into pajamas, brush your teeth, do everything you would normally do. You hop into bed, turning off your lights and wishing sleep upon yourself. Maybe if you just pretend then it wouldn’t be real. His footsteps up the stairs, the knocking on your door, walking in without your response, his weight on the bed, his hand on your thigh. Maybe if you just pretend. This can’t be real.

He pulls your blankets off your unmoving form, he knows you’re not sleeping, he knows you too well. Everything about you, your friends, your school, your relationships, your mental health, and your body. He has it all logged in his head. If he didn’t know all of these things then how was he supposed to protect his baby sister?

Your breathing becomes labored as he pulls down your cotton shorts, lust or fear you’re not sure what makes your heart beat so fast. You’re not familiar with his adult body, he’s grown so much, too much. He could easily overpower you. He’s muscled up for his job and everything is just.. bigger. He’s no longer the sweet boy you knew, the one that comforted you through your mom’s new marriage. No, he’s someone else.

Your mind screams no but your body aches with his familiar touch. He might not look or act the same but he has always been gentle. You mewl when he lifts up your shirt, rough fingers rolling your nipples back and fourth. He plants soft wet kisses on your chest and stomach, never leaving marks. This was a secret, just for the two of you.

You can’t help the way your body jumps towards his hands when he pulls down your panties, thick digits swiping through your folds. You can deny it as much as you want, but you crave him. You whimpers become louder, all of his touches last so long when you can’t see anything in the dark. Right here in your childhood bedroom, you can’t see your brothers face but you know he’s smiling.

You hear fabric shifting and you know he’s discarded his pants as well. He climbs over you, towering, caging you in. Your hips grind up into his, desperate for friction.

“Slow down princess” he chuckles.

The nickname takes you away, let’s you believe that this is okay. It’s just a fantasy, it’s not real. You snap out of that mindset when Izuku pushes into you, bottoming out in one thrust. He groans as your wet walls envelop him, squeezing tightly. A muttered string of curses leave his lips when he starts moving, rocking into you slowly. He speeds up quickly, the warm feeling taking over his control.

He fucks into you hard and fast, the tip of his length kissing your cervix with every movement. He pounds you into the mattress as tears roll down your cheeks. He wipes them away, caressing your face and kissing you earnestly. He wanted you to be his but he knew it couldn’t be that way. If he couldn’t have all of you, then he would at least have this.

“You like it when your step brother fucks your tight little pussy like this? Yeah I know you do”

A broken moan escapes your lips, turning into a sob when his cock twitches at the sound.

His large thumb finds your clit, making quick circles to match his thrusts, bringing you over the edge quickly. He follows right after, pulling out and coming all over your breasts. Sticky fluids drip down chest, an uncomfortable feeling. He tucks himself away, kissing your forehead and exiting the room.

It’s fun to pretend, especially when it lets you believe that moments like these are just a fantasy.

[fredshufflepuff]

hi! i saw a post of friends to lovers > enemies to lovers and i completely agree! can i request fred or george (or whoever you think fits most idm!) fic of mutual pining where they are too proud to admit feelings or completely unaware of each others flirting? <3

princess || g.w ✧˖*°࿐

summary: same house, same friend group—means nothing when you hate each other. at least, that’s what you thought.

warnings: enemies to lovers (not really enemies buttt), one cuss word, pet name :), fluff, that should be it! ps. hopefully this holds up to your expectations! it took me awhile to write so i may have gotten carried away <3

word count: 1,277

“gryffindor!” the sorting hat shouted, excitement shooting through your veins as you grinned widely, standing yourself up and making your way to your houses table.

“congratulations!” a red headed boy greeted, his hair curly and skin pale. he was one of the older students, a certain badge on his front reading ‘head boy.’

“thanks!”

another boy on his right looked similar to him, a little younger but older than you. that boy had a twin, and if he wasn’t his twin, your eyes were playing tricks on you. 

the boy looked at you, scratch that stared at you. you couldn’t help but stare back, glaring at him before asking him his deal was.

“if i’m going to be honest, i was expecting hufflepuff or even ravenclaw, not gryffindor” he says bluntly, a stupid smirk on his face at seeing your eyebrows furrow together.

“what’s that supposed to mean?”

before the boy could explain, his twin nudged him harshly in the side, “leave the poor first year alone, george.”

george was his name.

“just telling her what i think” he shrugs, giving you one last look before turning to the plates of food.

“don’t mind him, he’s a jerk” a voice butts in, your head turning to the side to see another red head, but unlike the others he was in your year.

‘merlin’s beard how many red heads are there?’ you thought to yourself, the boy introducing himself before introducing his friends.

hermione granger and harry potter.

“nice to meet you” the curly hair girl smiled, sticking out her hand for you to shake, “and you are?”

you took her hand and gave her a warm smile.

“y/n y/l/n.”

fast forward six years, you were sixteen about to turn seventeen. but no matter how old you were, it never stopped your immature banter between you and a certain red head.

“mooorning” george announced to the common room, shoving your feet off the couch and plopping himself next to you.

“don’t touch me” you spat, the boy rolling his eyes as you went back to your conversation with hermione.

“do you have the potions notes?” you asked, the girl nodding while digging through her book bag.

“here you go.”

“thanks, ‘mione” you smiled, standing up and heading to your dorm to study.

you were sick the day snape decided to start a new topic on potions, but hermione was kind enough to let you borrow her notes.

you heard shuffling behind you, a heavy arm falling on your shoulder making you snap your head to the side.

“we’re we going, princess?” george asked, smirking at your annoyed state as you shoved him off.

“i’m going to my dorm, you can stay in the common room” you said, george still following you until you both stood outside the door.

“but i’m great at potions, i can tutor you” he suggested, clearly not going to take no for an answer.

“if i say yes will you stop pestering me?”

his lips thinned together as he cocked his eyebrow, “since when do i pester you?”

“george.”

“fine.”

an hour went by of george trying to teach you potions and you getting annoyed, nothing seemed to be sticking.

“worm tail or worm wood?”

his question rang in your head, clouding your mind as you tried to think of the right answer.

“worm...worm tail?”

“worm wood” he corrected, a frown taking over your face as you let out a frustrated sigh. you were never going to pass snape’s exam.

“although you look cute when you pout, you shouldn’t worry- you’re smart. we just need to practice a little more.”

“i’m cute when i pout?” you ask, the red head smirking as you pushed him softly, “stop flirting weasley and help me pass snape’s class.”

a week went by and you finally took the exam, getting your mark back as soon as you finished.

“i got an O?!” you couldn’t help but gasp, snape narrowing his eyes at your sudden outburst as you quickly apologized.

you grabbed your bag and made an exit for the door, a smile on your face as you made a b line for the quidditch pitch.

“george!” you called out, cupping around your mouth so your voice would carry to where he was. the twins were doing their daily practice on the field, doing laps and passing the bludgers back and forth.

“your girl is calling for you” fred smirked, nudging his twin as he rolled his eyes—although he couldn’t stop the grin that made its way across his face.

george made his way down to you, hoping off of his broom as his feet hit the ground with a ‘thud.’

“yes, princess-” he was cut off by your arms being thrown across his neck, pulling him into an unexpected hug as you squeezed him tightly.

george had to bend down slightly for you to hold him, the height difference causing you to stand on your tip toes- but neither of you cared.

he let go of his broom to hold you back, blushing deeply as his chin rested on your shoulder.

“what’s all this for?” he asked, laughing lightly as you pulled away. your arms were still wrapped around his neck, a wide smile on your face as you told him the good news.

“an O?! that’s amazing!” he exclaimed, the boy proud of you for getting such a high mark on an exam you were once struggling to study for.

“all thanks to you.”

it was quiet for a few seconds, the two of you inches away as smiles were formed on both of your faces.

you would be lying if you said you didn’t fancy george, he was undeniably attractive. but ever since your first interaction with him during your first year at hogwarts, you learned to despise him.

there was no need for him to be so mean to you- if that’s what you could call it. over the following years he would tease and bicker with you, try to get any reaction out of you- good or bad.

but him too fell for you, your smile, your personality, your laughter...your looks. he watched you mature over the years, which also made him realize if he wanted you to actually like him, he would have to stop pestering you.

“george” you suddenly said, breaking him from your thoughts as he hummed in response, looking down at you with a glint in his eyes.

“kiss me.”

he didn’t question it, didn’t even hesitate. one hand stayed on your hip while the other came up to cup the side of your face, pulling you into him as your lips met with his.

his mouth molded with yours like a missing piece to a puzzle.

your puzzle.

it felt like fireworks were going off and you were the star of the show- the main attraction.

it all felt right.

“finally!” fred cheered, the two of you pulling away immediately and looking up at the older twin, “thata boy, georgie!”

“fuck off, fred” he joked, grinning at his brother before turning back to you, the pad of his thumb running over the side of your face before stopping at your bottom lip.

“can i take you out to hogsmeade? maybe get a butterbeer or two?” he asked, trying to act cool but inside he was freaking out.

sure you had made the first move, if that’s what you could even call it, but he didn’t want to mess things up.

“of course, george” you smiled, “i’d love to go to hosgmeade with you.”

“brilliant” he breathed out, pulling you into another kiss almost immediately.

he was finally yours.

🏷 @90smalfoy @astoria-malfcy @whipped-for-the-weasley-twins @ang9lic @malfoysbiitch @Harrypotter_Whore @aetheralist

[shirophantomvox]

Leorio, Hisoka, Illumi, and Chrollo Head Canons #2

What’s up y’all! Thank you so much to the people who have given me feedback about what posts you all would like to see! This post will be about the “Adult Trio” and Leorio about how they would help their significant other with a subject in college. This one is a good suggestion! I’m going to incorporate fluff in this, as I am a sucker for fluff. I hope you all enjoy this! I most certainly do. This post is about 2687 words but don't worry, it's worth the read! These head canons came from my mind its a coincidence that some of these pictures match the thoughts. Portentous (old English) means wonderful or marvelous (in modern English) FYI: I am thinking about creating a discord server for both Voltron and Hunter x Hunter fans. I don’t know how to use the fancy perks of discord yet, so if you know how to and can help me out, send me a message! Alright, let’s get to it! Obviously these images are from Pinterest.

Discord Server for Voltron and HxH fans!

Leorio

“Mr. Leorio”, as we all know, is a sharp guy. He dresses in a suit, carries a suitcase, and wants to be a doctor. This man knows everything about academics, especially math and science. He will need to know these subjects to be a successful medical doctor.

Leorio received an A- in Calculus II and a B+ in Organic Chemistry. He was the only one that passed with flying colors while everyone else barely made it. He didn’t gloat in their faces but as soon as he got into the hallway he jumped for joy.

He was extremely happy about his progress and counted the days until graduation even though that was in 5 years. Wow! Don’t we love graduate school?!

He deserved the high grades because he spent countless nights studying missing parties, football games, and being with you just to make sure he was on the right track to graduating on time.

As we all know, Leorio wanted to pursue this career because he witnessed his best friend dying in front of him powerless to save him. The care for his friend would have been too expensive. Obtaining his degree was in honor of his friend; he’d save countless children, women, and men who’d all thank him for his hard work.

Leorio didn’t socialize much, but he did find himself hanging around a group of classmates that were a part of a co-ed fraternity that provided information on scholarship money for graduate school and job opportunities. This is where he met you. You didn’t want to be a doctor but instead wanted to be a computer scientist and decided to volunteer for this fraternity job fair.

As he rejoiced, his smile faded when he saw you walking down the hallway; tears falling from your face not caring who stared at you. He quickly walked up to you, put his arm around your back, and gave you a soft hug.

“What’s the matter,” he asks.

You were failing Calculus, a class you’ve been taking since the 12th grade but for some reason, you couldn’t pass it. Everyone else had A’s and B’s, while you had a D. D’s aren't accaetable in college; most make you retake the class.

“Don’t worry. I’ve just passed my midterm. I can help you study. You’ll pass; trust me.”

Later on that evening, he kept his promise but gave it a unique twist. He kept the lights off and lit 4 Yankee-sized candles in the room that smelled like Lavender. In the background, he had piano jazz playing on his speaker. You felt confused for a moment. You and Leorio weren’t necessarily dating but you both flirted with each other here and there. He wasn’t a social butterfly, but he felt comfortable talking to you.

“Um...what’s the music for?”

“It helps me concentrate. Believe it or not, it helps my brain flow. You like it don’t you?”

“No, actually I don’t.” Truth be told you loved it but you wanted to pull his strings a little. He looked up with a confused look.

“Ok. I’ll turn it off.”

“I'm kidding! It’s great!”

Whenever he cannot solve a Calculus question, he reviews similar problems from Algebra II. He applies this knowledge to your problem.

“Perform the indicated function evaluations for f(x)=3−5x−2x^2 . I’ll solve the first part for an example: f(6+t) simply means you will exchange “x” for 6+t. It will look like f(6+t)=3-5(6+t)-2(6+t)^2=-49 . You’d distribute -5 and -2 to the numbers inside of the brackets in which they are next to.”

Wow, that was easy! Wait, not he must think you’re stupid.

“You must think I’m stupid, don’t you?”

“Of course not! It took me a while to understand it too. You’ll apply the same knowledge for the rest.”

After what seemed like 4 hours (which was 2), you finally finished your homework! It was probably wrong but at least you made it past the 1st question! As you blew out the candles and turned on your LED lights instead, you see Leorio sleeping on your couch. Something about his soft face made you smile and place your hand over your heart.

“My little doctor,” you whispered to yourself.

“Well, come give this doctor some company then. I’m freezing over here!”

The throw blanket was large enough for you both. Snuggling on the couch was a great end to a stressful day.

Chrollo

To everyone else Chrollo was “Boss” or “Boss Man” but to you, he was Chrollo. Big C was known for his love for poetry and language.

He read poetry any chance he had at lunch and even dinner. It had gotten so bad that you had to tell him for the millionth time “No books at the table!”

Given his past, he always read at least 2 hours a day or one book a week. Reading is what got him through the day.

He was staying in your dorm for the day to relax because he had taken and passed his midterms to. The young thief thought about hiding in the closet but he didn’t because he sensed that you’d be tense because of midterms.

As you walked through the door, you looked angry, so angry that you could punch a wall. He immediately rose to his feet, threw his arms straight out in front of him, and motioned for you to stop. You just stared at him blankly.

“Come here,” he said like you, on cue, melted in his arms. He was warm and the deepness of his cooing voice vibrated against your neck. “What’s the problem?”

“I’m failing this stupid Shakespeare class!”

“Really?”

“Yes and if I don’t pass this midterm I’m going to fail the class for the 3rd time. I want to drop out! Who needs this scam anyway?!”

Chrollo held you a bit longer until you were ready to sit down and get to business. You pulled out your college’s book about Shakespeare plays and how he used Old English. Chrollo was the perfect man for the job! He’s read Macbeth and Romeo and Juliet several times!

Chrollo read a few stanzas and explained them. He then had you read some on your own and explain them...still you can’t.

He notices the problem immediately. He catches you snuggling comfortably against his toned arm, nearly falling asleep.

Chrollo laid at the very corner of the couch as you lay horizontally placing your head against his chest. You were comfortable but you weren’t able to focus. He notices this and slightly demands that you go sit at the table. When it came to academics, he was serious.

For as long as he had been reading, he has an arsenal of vocabulary words ready to be of use. He created flashcards for you and had you flip them over for nearly an hour. You start to memorize the words!

But you’re not done yet.

“Say the word ‘portentous’.”

“Por-ten-trious…?”

“No. Por-ten-tas.”

“Tias…?”

He moved his chair next to you, just an inch away from your face. He cups your mouth and moves it as he speaks again. This wasn’t a hard clutch, it was soft and he wasn’t irritated but he could sense that you were becoming irritated.

“Por-ten-tas,” he said again.

Instead of letting your cheeks go, his eyes diverted to your lips. They were moist and plump, ready to be met by his.

“Your lips are gorgeous. Kisseth me quite quaint.”

Oh no. Look at the monster you’ve created.

Chrollo created a reward system. Whenever he did things right as a child, he was rewarded with money and jewels. For every word you pronounced and defined correctly, he kissed you once. For each word you got correct in a row, he’d kiss you twice.

Soon enough he had kissed you so much that you couldn’t see straight!

The kisses worked because you passed your midterm! Each kiss placed a stain in your brain that made you remember the definition and how to pronounce it.

You and Chrollo celebrated by drinking champagne and listened to him read Sonnet 23 and 57.

Hisoka

As unusual as it seems, Hisoka is gifted when it comes to Chemistry specifically. That is why you two work well together...there is some chemistry going on between you two.

His hair down and his glasses were his alter ego, it was something that made him act completely different than what you were used to.

When you all were freshmen, he would skip class, attend parties, and would be hungover almost every week but once he was called into the Dean’s office, he changed.

You slightly missed that edgy side of him, but you enjoyed having a serious beau.

Hisoka is a social butterfly and is the life of the conversation and you loved him for it but sometimes it was awkward.

While he was chatting away about Calcium (Ca) and Iron (Fe), you stood there nodding like an idiot. You had NO IDEA about what he was talking about and that is why you were going to drop your chemistry class.

“I saw an imbecile put aluminum foil in the microwave and it burst into flames. How did they not know that Microwaves are the radio waves falling under frequency around 2500 megahertz? Any metallic object detected by radio waves inside the microwave acts as a reflector of radio waves.”

You shove his arm hard. He was acting arrogant in front of his friends. You were used to this but it got on your nerves. You made mistakes, everyone does!...even those that almost burn down the entire dorm room.

You two leave the party and head to his dorm room. Once you were settled, you released a can of anger and threw it all over your boyfriend.

“Hisoka? You just humiliated me.”

“Oh? No one knows that I was talking about you, my dear.”

“Don’t ‘my dear’ me! I asked for your help and you’re ignoring me. I don’t appreciate that. I didn’t ignore you when you sprained your ankle, did I?”

“No, you didn’t, dear. I supposed I have a few hours to kill. What do you need help with?”

Hisoka’s way of studying was much different from other students. He exercises like crazy before he opens his textbook.

He listens to EDM instrumentals while on the treadmill and when he lifts weights. You weren’t standing there like a trophy, he made you lift too.

“Being healthy will help your brain flow more easily. Lift this dumbbell as heavy as you can.”

He ran a mile on the track upstairs. Sweat dripped from his face like he had been standing outside in the rain.

By the time you returned to his dorm, you were beyond tired. You laid your head on his pillow but just as you closed your eyes, he pulled you up on your feet.”

“Not on my watch,” he tutted. “It’s chemistry time.”

You were having trouble memorizing Chemical Formulas and this by far was the most difficult concept you had come across.

To make you stay awake, he turned on a bright LED light and faced it towards the table. The bright light nearly made your head fall off from the pain it reflected in your eyes.

Hisoka grabbed his book and began to write down the major chemicals on the periodic table and their charges.

“Pay attention to the following abbreviations and charges: Calcium is Ca, Chloride is Cl+2, Carbide is C+2, and Carbon Dioxide is CO+2. Read these over and I’ll test you again.”

He did just that but you still weren’t understanding. You were ready to give up.

Stupid scam. Why do I need a piece of paper to determine what I can do? You thought to yourself. Well, it’s obvious. If you can’t do the work now, what makes you think you can do it at a job? Harsh, I know.

“Let me try this,” He said. He carried you to his bedroom and gently placed you on it. He took off his shirt and removed his glasses. “Aluminum has a charge of +3 and Oxygen has -2. If there were three of me and two of my clones disappeared, how many of me are left?”

“Just you, right? One”

“Correct! Excellent.”

Wow, everything started making sense once he took his shirt off.

From then, he just inserted himself into the equation and then it started to make sense! He apologized for running his mouth earlier and promised to keep any more secrets between you two. The night ended with you sleeping in his bed wrapped in a cotton blanket just cuddling and that was it. And bam! You slept as sound.

Illumi

Dating the “hot” quiet history buff was a flex of its own. Sure Illumi didn’t talk to anyone besides you, but it didn’t matter. People swooned if he looked in their direction.

History was a popular major during your era. People were not like their grandparents; they wanted to learn about other cultures besides their own. Illumi’s specialty was in world history and civilizations. The class was very interesting to you but there was so much information, you could barely process it.

Illumi often wrote his essays in one day proofread and all! He often charged people to look their essays over.

One time he made $500 in one year!

Glancing at your transcripts, he notices that you have a C- and offers to help.

“Why are you looking through my stuff?”

Hey, he’s your boyfriend! But still, he should ask.

“Sorry. It was up on the screen,” he said, throwing his hands in the air.

You began to blush in embarrassment. The hottest smartest man in the building now knew that you were failing one of the easiest classes on campus.

Placing his thumb under your chin, he lifted your head to meet his gaze. “There’s nothing to be embarrassed about. I can help you.”

“How? I am so behind! I zoned out after chapter 2!”

“We’ll watch a movie.”

“Oh, God! Not one from PBS is it?!”

“Yes. How else are you supposed to learn?”

He turns on the movie and allows you to lay your head on his shoulder but not too much. He is aware of your tricks and he wants you to pay attention.

Every 15 minutes, he pauses the movie and asks you checkpoint questions. If you got them wrong, you had to stand up with your underclothes on (t-shirt and shorts) in the cool room for 10 minutes. If you got the questions right, he allows you to lay more comfortably. You were already in your underclothes but you were under the blanket.

He made you write down key definitions and the embarrassment of each section.

After the movie, he blindfolds you and reads out a term. Surprisingly, you got them all correct!

As a reward for your past midterm, he takes you to dinner at a restaurant where he slips a promise ring on your finger containing your birthstone.

[yee-fxcking-haw]

•Caught In The Middle•

Summary: First loves always leave a mark, yours was Hitoshi Shinsou, and you were his. Life got messy, careers got in the way. You still find each other, you always find each other.

Pairing: Hitoshi Shinsou x FemReader (both 18+)

Warnings: This is one angsty boi, unprotected sex, oral sex (female receiving), crying during sex (not dacryphilia), a lot of emotional vulnerability.

Word Count: 4,012

A/N: I've been wanting to work on writing some more emotionally raw scenarios. I didn't do a lot of sexual dynamic in this, just two people loving and needing each other. Not my usual thing, but I hope y'all like it! Please let me know! Much love<3

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You wait where you always do, on a rotting old bench hidden behind several twisted, dying trees. The path in front of you leads to a pitiful little shack, held together by patch work and spite. It's a beautiful little place, though, despite the crumbling wood and the slight lean the whole structure has. It has its charm, it has its secrets.

The weather is soothing tonight, a starry sky above a lovely summer evening. It could almost make a pretty little painting, if it weren't such a dark secret.

You hear footsteps falling behind you, crunching the gravel as the tread. You don't turn to see who it is, you're not worried, you already know.

You hear the feet stop behind you, feel the strong presence, smell the warm scent he brings. Just being this close to him wraps you in something so peaceful, so easy to fall into. Strong, capable hands spread over your shoulders, thumbs rolling into every tense place within them.

You look down at your palms and feel the shame grip your heart when you see the dried blood there. It's a part of the job, at least, that's what you tell yourself.

Finally, you turn to face the man behind you. As always, you melt into the peaceful, enchanting feeling his gaze provides. You recall the timid, exhausted, beaten down boy you once fell for. His tired eyes and his lopsided smile, and his desperate need to help.

The memories contrast heavily with the strong, proud beauty before you. He stands tall, he looks aware, purposeful and brave. He still looks like he could use a few extra hours of sleep, but he no longer looks completely deprived of it. His beauty is the messy kind, but it enthralls you nonetheless.

"Hard work today?" Hitoshi asks quietly, a knowing look in his soft, amethyst eyes.

You nod, folding your hands into each other as his own work at your aching shoulders.

"It wasn't really hard. I'm used to it, it was just messy." You explain, trying to remain resolute.

He answers with a sigh, hands working at the back of your neck now.

"You don't have to do it." He tries.

You feel him pulling the strings of your chest as your eyes fall to the path again, unable to hold his sweet, honest gaze.

He's always had too much good in him, too much optimism, too much hope. That's why he makes a good hero though, a great hero, really. That had been the divide between the two of you, you couldn't trust like him, you couldn't hope like he could. It was simple when you were two high schoolers with simple ideas that made for harmless debates. In time, it became not so simple.

He acquired his hero's license after endless hours of hardwork and dedication, and you watched from the stands. A drop out who simply couldn't go along with the charade. There were never any hard feelings between the two of you, and you remained lovers for a while after, it remained as it was for a bit. Two kids too wrapped up in each other to care how heavily their morals contrasted.

After some time, after settling into your places in life, it became less simple. He found his spot in the hero charts, you found yours among other vigilantes desperate to expose corrupt heroes. This of course made any kind of simple public relationship less easy and less acceptable.

As he gained more of an understanding of your grey morality, and you gained more of an understanding of the depravity of his society, it became impossible for the two of you to live and let live. So you found your peace with the secrets you two could keep in the tiny shed down this path.

You had loved each other before all of this, you had loved each other in the back seats of cars, school dorm rooms and other secret places. Keeping yourselves hidden is something you both learned to do well, for the sake of maintaining whatever sacred connection you had stumbled upon together.

"You're thinking." He observes, removing his hands in favor of striding around the bench to seat himself beside you.

"I do that." You mutter, hands still fidgeting at each other.

You're both silent for a moment, calculating your next moves.

"I don't want to think anymore." You whisper, you fight the burning in your eyes and nose as best you can, willing the tears not to fall.

He takes a deep breath in, it's not steady, it's not composed, it's full of trembling and uncertainty.

"I don't want to either."

So, neither of you did.

You find yourselves where you always do, pulling at each other on the tattered mattress on the floor of the shed. Candles are spread throughout the room, just enough to bathe you both in a heavenly glow. A large lock holds the door closed, it keeps your secrets in, it keeps the world out.

His lips are delicate against your neck, his hands are steady on your waist, but the thudding of his heartbeat betrays him when he presses his body against yours.

"We can't keep doing this." He sighs against you. He says it every time, but he always comes back.

"You don't have to." You bring your hands up to cup his face, a mistake on your part as the look in his eyes crumbles your resolve.

"Toshi, please don't go." You beg, clinging to him as the thought rips you to shreds.

"I won't, god I won't, I can't." He confesses before pressing his lips into yours.

It's a mess of a kiss, nothing but need, desire and tears as you work against each other. Hands find clothes to rip off, hearts nearly escape their cages as delicate fingertips ghost across soft spots. It's a beautiful, well learned dance, something perfected over time.

His body rolls on top of yours, he nudges your legs apart with his knees as he settles between them. Every inch of your skin meets every inch of his, then the heat spreads, consuming both of you. Your skin boils as he rolls his hips against yours, you shudder and sigh and hold on tight.

"M-more, please, need more." You plead, your voice doesn't sound like your own. It sounds like it belongs to a lost, lovesick girl… maybe it does…

"Anything, I'll give you anything." He responds.

His mouth is hot and open against your flushed skin. His hands cradle the tuck of your waist as he paints your chest with sweet, sloppy kisses. He blazes a trail down your body, leaving nothing but ashes and glowing embers in his wake.

He moves a leg over each shoulder, the sight makes you smile, recalling the first time he found himself in this position.

"What?" He questions, a smile playing at his lips as he presses them into your thigh.

Your hand slips into his hair, letting yourself fall away from the worries of social structures, letting yourself fall into the little world you've created in this shed.

"Just thinking about the first time you tried this." You let yourself laugh a little when he rolls his eyes and groans. He really had tried his best, he just missed a couple of important spots, mostly one important spot, completely.

"I was learning, don't be a jerk." He continues kissing up your thigh until he reaches the crux of your leg.

"Plus, I got much better at it." With that, he casts you a devilish look before sliding his tongue sideways across your lips.

He teases your clit for a fleeting second before drawing back, watching the way your eyes flutter and your lips pout.

"You did, but you turned into such a tease." You gather more of his hair, involuntarily rolling your hips up a little.

He hums in response, sliding his hands up the outside of your thighs so he can gather the rolls of your hips.

"You make it so much fun." He gives you another gentle flick with the tip of his tongue, making you jump and whimper for him.

"Gorgeous." He sighs, drops his jaw then, lets his broad tongue loll out completely and licks a long, slow strip up your center.

"Oh fuck." You shudder as your back lifts slightly and your legs attempt to close.

"Keep them open for me, sweetheart." He tells you, the tender name makes your chest ache.

Before you can respond, he licks again, this time he closes his lips around your clit and sucks. You can't help the way you shiver and cry out, or the way your legs close around his head. It's too good, it's too warm and wonderful.

"Stubborn girl." He mutters before placing his hands under your knees.

He folds you up as he moves to kneel between your legs, the tops of your thighs meet your stomach and your breath catches as you watch him devour you with his eyes.

"Hold this." He squeezes your left leg.

You hook your arm around it, nodding as he lowers his torso back to your core. He keeps his hand on your right leg, and let's the other fall between your bodies so he can play at your slick entrance with his middle finger.

You bite your body lip as you clamp around nothing, teased by the presence of what could be inside you. You glance down between your bodies, eyeing the way his finger glides up to your clit so he can rub lazy circles against it. Most of all, you're hypnotized by how pretty his cock is.

"I know you want it, baby, just give me one, and I'll let you have it." He promises as he slides two fingers in.

His slow, calculated movements have your mind spinning and your body twitching. You open your mouth to ask for him to use his tongue, but he beats you to it. He drops his torso, keeping his hand locked on the leg he's got cranked up. You cling to your opposite leg when his tongue meets your clit.

His fingers drag in and out at a curve, bending inside you to reach the spot that makes you see stars. His tongue rolls against your sensitive bud, persistent and electric as he stokes the fire in your core.

You feel your body tighten up, your free hand grasps at his messy waves again, your body seizes. He bends you and bends you, working relentlessly with his fingers and his velvety tongue.

You're so close, so damn close, you feel it tickling your ribs, pushing tears from your eyes and in your trembling thighs.

You need more. You need something to push you over, you just need him.

"Toshi- please, I wanna- fuck baby."

As you whimper out your plea, he adds the slightest bit more pressure to your clit, and it rips you apart. You shatter and break in against him, crying out his name in broken praise, body rolling against him as he works you through it.

"That's it, that's my girl." He sighs as he watches the way your body moves against him, watches the way you writhe in the pleasure he gives.

"Fuckin' gorgeous." He breathes as he crawls up your body so he can take your lips into his own. You pull him into you with greedy hands, clinging to this moment, needing it to last, not ready to let it go.

"Need you, please, need all of you." The words come out like a sob, spoken mostly against his lips.

He gathers one of your hands in his, lacing your fingers as he presses it into the mattress, his forehead meets yours as he grabs his length so he can run the head against you.

"You've got me, you've got me baby." He promises before pressing in. He's done it countless times, in endless positions, but the feeling never ceases to leave you light headed.

You both lose yourselves completely, finally together, hidden so perfectly in your little haven. You feel so full, so loved, so complete.

"God, fuck, your cunt." He nearly cries, wrapped in your warmth, enamored by your body and the way it ticks for him.

He buries your face in your neck, squeezing your hand and releasing a broken moan as he rolls his hips into you.

His free hand comes up to hold your face, yours holds his wrist, desperate for an anchor as he splits you open so sweetly. Every nerve within you feels so tender and raw, everything about you aches for him, everything in you needs him.

You cling to each other like a lifeline as he builds a mind numbing pace, it's nothing hard, nothing rough, but it's deep, it's all consuming. You both moan and cry against each other for a bit, letting your bodies work, letting your brains stop thinking.

"Fucking hell, sweetheart, can I please fuck you, really fuck you, need more of you." He begs between messy kisses against your sweat soaked skin.

His request makes your skin ignite with white hot anticipation.

"Please- Toshi, fuck me how you need to, I wanna take it, I can take it." You let the tears fall freely, let them wet your cheeks and wash away any reservations.

As if you've unhooked the chain of a rabid animal, he growls against you and rips his hands from yours. The grab under your knees again so he can fold you just how he likes. He uses your body as leverage, holding himself up by the hold on your legs.

"You're so fucking tight like this." He chokes out as he adjusts his hips, pulling back slowly.

"Tell me you need it, tell me you need me." He says, it's not an order, not an exercise of control. It's a prayer, it's something he's desperate for, something he can't live without.

"I need it, baby I need you." You reach around your legs to hold his forearms, needing to be connected to him in every way you can, "I need all of you." You sob, looking up at him with desperate eyes.

He breaks then, seeing you all pretty and broken, hearing you beg for all he has to offer. With the last shred of self control he has, he bends to kiss you. It's slow, reverent, worshipful. It's everything you need to forget about everything that comes between you outside of this room.

When he pulls back, your breath is held, his body tenses and he finally, finally, let's himself go. He fucks you, he fucks you hard. His hips slap against your as you sob into the air, thanking him, praising him, loving him. The drag of his cock in and out of your quivering cunt is enough to reduce you to a sniffling mess.

He watches your face diligently, paying attention to how your lip quivers when he angles his hips upwards, admiring how pretty you look all flushed and tear stained. His hands gorge themselves on the backs of your thighs. Your body sings for him, only him.

"You take it so well, take it for me some more, just a little bit more." He gasps as you tighten around him, spun on by his praise.

All you can utter is one, desperate "more" as he ruins you.

"Fuck, baby, I'll give you more." He releases your legs, letting them fall to the sides.

He grabs your hips and hauls your ass onto his thighs. Braced on his shins, he fucks up into you with everything he has, and it pays off almost instantly.

You scream out, reckless and unashamed. It's too good to hold it in, the pleasure is too fluorescent, the love is too overwhelming.

"Oh god, come on sweet girl, give me all of it." He sounds almost frantic as his thumb finds your clit, he presses down perfectly, rubs it so sweetly, sending even more electricity through your entire body.

You reach out to him, one hand fisting the sheets, the other searching for him, desperate for something to ground you.

He grabs you immediately, tangling his fingers in yours as he did before. He lets his thrusts slow in favor of rolling them up into you as he plays with your clit, easing you through every pulse, making sure you feel every shock.

Slowly, he lets you wind down, paying close attention to every twitch and whimper.

"You're stunning, you're so fucking perfect." He bends down to kiss up your stomach, he slides his arms around your waist and brings you up slowly. You wrap your arms around his hips as he kicks his legs out in front of him. Your lips meet each other so gently, giving and taking flawlessly.

"More, please baby." It's the only request you have capacity for.

He smiles against your lips, his hands fall to your hips, guiding them so they roll against his. You whine against him as his head presses into some forgotten soft spot inside you, your hands claw at his shoulders as you let him direct your movements. More, you just need more more more, all that you can have while you still can.

"Good girl, my good girl." He pants against your neck, his hands slide up so he lock his arms around you again, so he can keep you close, so you won't slip away.

"That's it, just like that." He encourages as you pick up the speed of your hips. There's no real in and out movement, but there is the most steady rubbing of your most sensitive parts, and it's heavenly.

"More baby, just a little more." He coaxes.

Always more, you're always so selfish with each other, glutinous when you can finally indulge in this.

Despite your oversensitivity, despite the ache in your bones, you work harder. You roll against him, almost riding but not quite pulling yourself away from him to do so.

He shivers and moans beneath you so beautifully, you never want to stop, you want to stay like this. You want to keep working with him forever, making him feel like this, watching his pretty pink lips part and tremble as you provide him with his only release.

His fingers bite at your waist and his mouth gets needy against your neck. He just needs more.

"Take it, Toshi, take anything you need."

He looks up at you with such a searching gaze, with some kind of strange, broken wonder. He moves you both until he's leaning his back against the wall, still holding you like you might break.

"I have everything I need." He admits, pressing a long kiss into your shoulder, "I have it all."

Your hands thread into his messy hair, cherishing this slowed moment of tenderness.

"-But I want this." He sighs before planting his feet on the mattress so he can thrust up into you harshly.

One hand flies to the wall as you wail from the pleasure, the other stays in his hair, pulling at his roots as he fucks up into you.

"Like that! Just like that baby, holy fuck." You sob, letting your head fall so you can chant your praises against his damp hairline.

"You always liked it like this." He muses, somehow managing a chuckle.

You have always like it like this, the first time he did it left you begging for it for weeks. You were house sitting for one of his friends right after graduation, you took advantage of the empty house and fucked like rabits. That was before everything got messy, before everything you two have had to be placed under lock and key…

His thrusts hit you somewhere deep and achey, his arms cage you against him, and it takes little to no time for your body to wind up and shatter once again.

"I'm so close, I'm so fuckin close." He cries against your chest, "Help me, talk to me, please- help me." He begs.

This hand grabs at your face, forcing you to look down at him. Big, shiney tears are falling from his marvelous eyes. God, he's beautiful, your beautiful boy.

"Baby, please, let me feel it, I wanna feel it inside me." You answer, letting him slam his hips up into you as he chases his own end.

You let yourself cry against him then, really cry, with your whole body. Somewhere between sobs you mutter enough praises for him to unravel. He grabs at your back, digs his nails in as his hips stutter.

"Fuck, sweetheart, I'm gonna, fuck fuck fuck." He nearly weeps when he finally stills, hips pulsing up into yours as you both hit that rapturous wall.

You're both a mess of trembling ecstasy as you cling and shiver and fall. You're close enough to kiss, tears mixing as you share space and air. Your bodies roll and twitch as you work each other through every spectacular feeling, every shock and wave and pulse.

"I love you, I love you, I love you." Hitoshi cries against your lips.

"I love you, all of you." You reply. You do, so much it hurts, so much it rips you apart when you lay down without him at night.

You catch your breath together, never letting go for even a second, bringing each other back down to earth. This is always your favorite part, the part where you settle, where you whisper sweet confessions. When you wipe the tears and feel so completely known and understood.

"Thank you." He whispers.

All you do is nod, placing a lazy kiss on his forehead. Your heart is so full, your mind is a blurry mess. All you know is Hitoshi, all he knows is you.

He rolls slightly so he can lay you on the bed next to him, setting you down like you're something sacred. You settle on your back as he settles on his side, propped up on one elbow as he runs his hand over your forehead, brushing the sweaty hair away.

You ease into the tender moment, meeting his eyes, listening to him breathe. You grab his wrist and bring his hand down so you can kiss his palm, thankful for the touch that makes you fall apart.

"'We can't keep doing this'?" You tease.

He looks down at you knowingly, eyes full of familiarity, full of safety.

"We have to, don't we?"

It's a heartbreaking realization every time. That there's no way out of doing this. There's no way for him to walk away from his duty, he's too good, people need him. There's no way for you to join him, not with all that you know, not with what you've done.

"I always will, as long as you will." You promise, fiddling with his fingers as his other hand falls to play with your hair.

"I always will." He says, "Anything for you."

It's almost like you're two lovesick teenagers again, making promises too big to keep, making plans too grandiose to achieve. It's all you have, though. A busted up old shed and some poetic pillow talk. It all settles in your chest and burns, as always, you just want more. More of this, more of him, more of what used to be.

"Do you think…" You falter for a moment, afraid of your own question, "Do you think we'll ever find a way? Do you think we can ever-"

"Yes." He wraps his hand around yours, "We'll find it. Whatever it takes. We'll have this."

Maybe it's a promise that can't be kept, something that will only exist here. For now, you have your little world, you have your locks and your doors and your secrets. You have Hitoshi, you have that sweet, lanky, mess that taught you how to love. As terrifying as it is, he has you too, all of you. He has for years, he probably always will. However it ends up, you'll have this, you'll have each other.

[bakugotsundere]

Hating Him - Bakugou Katsuki (1)

bakugo x (black) fem reader

( still can read if you’re not)

sorry if it bothers you, i just felt that my black readers weren’t feeling black as they were reading y/n stories cause i for sure wasn’t.

Warning: none

Summary: Bakugo and you have hated each other ever since you met, being on the same track team and having the same friend group didn’t make things any better. you 2 have to act like you like each other for the benefit of the friend group until one day you and him are forced to have movie night with the others and you both have had enough of each other’s shit.

in this chapter: you get invited to the movie night and bump into bakugo

The morning smell of outside filled your lungs as you stepped out your house. It was exactly 5:30 in the morning. The streets were not busy and there was barely any noise, just faint sounds of dogs barking and truck drivers in a distance. It was the perfect time to go for your daily run. The chilly air made you happy, it gave you more of a challenge. you zipped your nike training jacket up. It fit you tight, tugging at every curve of yours. The sky was a foggy blue, a few clouds started coming in, along with the sum.

You walked down the steps of your house, stretching your legs when you got to the sidewalk. You looked ahead and yawned as you walked onto the street. Your neighborhood was fairly nice to say the least. Everybody minded their business, especially since your house had been secluded. After your grandmother died, she left one of her houses she owned to you, making it easy for you since you dreaded the idea of having to share a dorm with someone, let alone having to get an apartment.

you placed your airpods in your ears and played Apparently by J.Cole. J.Cole had been your favorite rapper since you were 12 years old, you missed the days where your 12 year old self would dance around your room to his music, now you’re grown and responsibilities are becoming more than just making sure your chores were done. You stretched one last time before taking off.

...

Once you were done, sweat dripped from your face. your breathing was heavy and the cold water bottle in your hand had been long awaited. The sun was now out. The birds chirping got louder and the old lady from across the street was sitting in her chair with her small cat in her lap, you quenched your thirst, swallowing every last drop of water. “Good morning Y/n” She chirped. You wiped your mouth with your wrist smiling, turning towards her, “Goodmorning Ms. Rodriguez.” you reply as you waved.

You finally go back inside your house, feeling at ease. you take off your black vapor max at the door and go to your kitchen, grabbing a nutrigrain bar, you ate it before going upstairs to get ready for your classes. you took your curly hair out of its messy bun. the roots of your hair were finally breathing and it felt good. you scratched your scalp in satisfaction. you looked in the mirror, loving your features and your brown/caramel skin. you never felt the need to put yourself in the 3 categories because to you there was no need to, everybody in the community was black so why separate it into groups.

you placed the shea butter your mother made for you on your face. you took off your semi-sweaty clothes throwing them into your dirty clothes hamper and looked at yourself in the mirror. your body was perfect to most but you didn’t see what everyone saw. your thighs were too thick for your liking, especially since you did track. your breast were too big to you, they sometimes got in the way while working out. you had a 4 pack from the working out, everybody told you that you had an hour glass body but you hated it. if this what a hour glass body was, you hated it.

you took off your panties, replacing your old ones with Tommy Hilfiger ones. You grabbed a pair of black nike sweatpants that fit your thighs perfectly. You took off your bra, letting your breast breath and put on another sports bra, putting on a white t-shirt fresh out the pack. you ran chap stuck along your plump lips, they were more than plump actually if you like them so it didn’t matter. you picked out the roots of your hair leaving it’s on it’s curly state. you had dyed your hair a ginger color, which made you look like sza a little. your fro was like hers too, very big and curly.

You wrapped your apple watch around your wrist and put on some whit nike socks, along with your white air force ones. Your phone started dinging and it was the gc, you had been in with your friend group.

Mina :) > goodmorning whores. Time for class before you become drop outs.

Denki ⚡️> good morning Mina ;)

Midoriya🥬> Goodmorning everybody, i have a big test in Mr. Aizawa’s today so i have to get to studying, talk to you guys later.

Kirishima> Mornin. It’s beautiful out today, isn’t it and i’m not a whore mina.

You> yea, kirishima i’m pretty sure you got caught with cami in the janitors closet.

Iida> Mine was too, you guys need to stop texting and get to class.

You> sure, see you on the track field lida. this gc is getting deader by the day and it’s embarrassing to watch.

(seen by kirishima, Mina, and Bakugou)

lida> typing...

You shut off your phone with a smile, knowing that got him heated. You didn’t even care for his response. you loved messing with lida, it was funny, you sprayed a little vanilla perfume on your body and you were off to a place you dreaded.

...

You were now in the library studying with Mina. Mina was like your best friend, you told her everything and she told you everything. “Have you seen that picture of trey songz you know what?” she asked and your eyes went wide, in shock that she was talking about this in the library. “yes, but i can’t go crazy over it, he made the shit so corny. the whole post he made afterwards had me cringing at my phone so hard. i was like “boy what the fuck” he too old for that shit.” you told her and she giggled.

“I’m having a movie night with the rest of the group this saturday, you have to come. you never come to things with us anymore. Ever since bakugou started hanging out with us, you’ve been avoiding us. i’ve noticed some type of tension between you 2, i hope it isn’t sexual?” she stated and your stomach churned at the thought of that stuck up dummy.

“No, i just like staying to myself, that’s all. i think i’ll come Saturday as long as it’s not going to be a lot of people you know how busy i am with track and stuff.” you stated in reality you hated being around bakugo. especially since he always felt to make rude remarks towards you when everyone wasn’t around. He was normally mean to everyone, but you got it the worse since you had the shortest running time on the team. When track practice would come around you and him would argue with each other every second. you hated being yelled at or talked to badly and your mother sure didn’t raise a bitch so you talked to him just as reckless as he did to you and he hated every second of it since you were the first to ever test him. your personalities didn’t mix well at all.

“it’s only gonna be, denki, bakugo, kirishima, todoroki, asui, uruaka and deku but that’s if bakugo doesn’t mind.”

“yea, i’ll think about it.” you said softly.

...

you were now at practice and the death stares you received from bakugo made you just wanna slap the fuck out of him. His eyes followed you as you warmed up. You could see him start to come towards you and you sighed. His tall figure stood in front of you, blocking the sun, his body shaded you. “You draw too much attention.” He stated as the boys that were on the team stared at you. You were the only girl on the track team so you learned to get used to it. “I know, why are you telling me this?” you asked and he gritted his teeth, “All of those boys are practically eye raping you.” he states, taking in your appearance and you sighed, “I don’t know what to fucking say. these are the only sizes in shirts they have and if my curves happen to show then so be it. it’s not like the whole thing is out.”

Sweat dripped from the side of his head, he had on a white tank top and some nike shorts with some white vapor max. a towel hung over his broad shoulders. your eyes scanned his body, you never thought bakugo was ugly, he was perfect when it came to looks. He was very tall with a slim, muscular build, and a fair skin tone. He had short, spiky, ash-blond hair that looked soft. His eyes were a sharp and bright red in color that showed his hostility. his looks fit his personality though, very cocky.

“Why do you care?” You asked and his cheeks turned a bright pink and anger came upon him, this line made him mad, “I don’t.” he replied angrily. “Well then stop telling me things i already know. All you do is bother me.” you told and his lips curved into a smirk, “Your existence bothers me, imagine how I feel.”

You rolled your eyes, pushing past him aggressively. He can be so fucking annoying. Imaging having to be on the same team as someone you hate. It’s really irritating, especially when the person is somebody as arrogant as he is. He needs to be humbled.

...

You and Bakugou were the only 2 left after practice, your coach was mad at the both of you because of what happened last week with the sub coach. Bakugou had been bothering you that day and you snapped and then you two decided to have a race on your own which didn’t turn out so well since bakugou got mad that you won in the end.

So now you and him were being forced to do “after practice workouts” with each other. You were now lying on the ground of the track floor, exhausted. Bakugou was right next to you, your chest rose up and down, your breathing heavy and your legs worn out. You looked over at him, and he looked over at you. “This wouldn’t have happened if you just wouldn’t hate me so much and accept that i’m faster than you.” you stated and his red eyes stared at your light brown ones. “Can’t blame this all on me. You hate me as well and you don’t know when to shut up. You don’t have to respond to everything i say but you do.” He said and you placed your hands at your stomach, “I’m not about to let you walk all over me like you do everyone else. Your ego is too big and i’m doing nothing but lowering it.”

“Is that what you think?” he asked and you sighed softly looking him in his eyes trying to search for anything but anger but there was no other emotion but that, his pupils did dilate once he noticed how hard you were staring into his eyes though, “It’s not what i think, it’s what i know.” you said. “i don’t understand why you are always so angry all the time. I don’t even know how you have the friends that you have. obviously that means they see past it but i refuse to. i can’t. sorry but that’s just how i am.” you stated sitting up, he sat up with you staring at you, “i don’t understand how you have friends, you are very competitive and just avoid me then. We can always hate each other from a distance.” he stated and you smiled shaking your head as you stood up.

“Can’t do that when we have the same friends and are on the same team and i’m only competitive when it comes to track. So i’ll just hate you regardless and plus you always keep your enemies close. It doesn’t matter though, i’m still faster.” you added on that last part trying to make him mad and you could hear him start to yell as you walked off and a smile came upon your lips.

There’s no way you could ever be friends with him so why even bother trying. Something about him makes your blood boil.