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beneathashadytree · 8 months ago

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HUNGOVER - VINSMOKE SANJI X READER

Warnings : Sanji’s self-image issues, hangover, passing out, reader is gender-neutral!

Genre : fluff <33

Additional notes : This is part 2 to a fic I posted 2 years ago (crazy, I know) called Intoxicated, so I recommend reading that first! Inspiration suddenly hit me ig🙏🏽 To anyone else reading this, my requests are still closed!! These are just old requests I had in my inbox🫶🏽

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Masterlist

It was at times like these that Sanji cursed his entire being—most especially his body, for having gotten so used to waking up at a set time every day. Because here he was, with a pounding headache that threatened to split his head in half and squash his brain into a mush, and yet he was still unable to sleep in for more than 4 hours.

Delaying the inevitable, he tried his best to keep his eyes shut, even if just for a little while. Dread filled him at the thought that opening them would send lancinating pain shooting through his eyes and the back of his head, and that was an issue he did not want to deal with now.

Especially not after colossally mortifying himself like that last night. Actually, he’d much rather forget it all together. Maybe completely wipe the memory from his head.

Much of the second half of the night was a booze-induced haze, flashing images swirling behind his eyes like they’re floating in water, and he couldn’t bring himself to try and remember the rest of it. After all, why would he want to think about how he embarrassed himself in front of the one person he yearned for more than life itself?

Baring his heart like only an idiot would, skinning himself alive and prostrating himself in front of them without a single ounce of the dignity he’d tried so hard to preserve for ages… he truly was a lost cause.

“Putain,” Sanji swore under his breath, even his raspy voice sounding grating to his ears, and he buried his head further into—

—his jacket?

All inhibitions instantly cast aside, his head shot up from where it was, and he was hit with the surging pain of an unbearable crick in his neck. Eyes flying open and completely ignoring the sting of the light, it was only then that he realized that he hadn’t, in fact, stumbled his drunken way back to bed after his whole blurted confession and tumbled face first into dreamland.

No. In reality, he’d actually just slept an uncomfortable few hours on the kitchen table, his head just barely hanging on after being supported only by his crumpled jacket.

Shit. The kitchen.

It was at that moment he came to the sudden realization that the thrumming headache wasn’t only caused by him waking up, but also from the loud banging of another person in his kitchen pulling out his precious pots and pans.

It must be well past morning. Everyone was probably ridiculously hungry by now.

It took all he had for him to stop himself from snapping at whoever it was that decided to step up (and also make a wreck out of his sacred space and possessions) for only that reason. In his desire to drown himself in his sorrowful miseries, he’d completely neglected his duty as a chef. If not to sustain his crewmates and friends, what use was he outside of battle?

Nothing, he thought to himself, blearily blinking the sleep out of his eyes as he began to turn around with a sigh, not looking forward to the confrontation that was to come, nothing at all—

“There you are, darling,” came a soft voice from behind him, barely above a whisper. A blooming warmth rushed to his cheeks, and he almost toppled out of the chair as he recognized just who it was that was saying those saccharine words.

It couldn’t be. There was no way he he’d be so blessed by the angels first thing in the morning.

And yet. And yet.

Here they were, in all their fresh-faced, tender-hearted glory, leaning down to gently stroke his cheek with a deft thumb. If Sanji let slip a broken whimper of half-relief, half-agony, they made no comment on it. “You’re hungover, then?”

With his mouth feeling like it was filled with cotton wool, no words could come out, and he instead just nodded his head weakly. Thankfully, that too they let slide. “I got Chopper to help out with that.” They pushed a cup with an odd liquid and two pills towards him. “Should help.”

For a couple of seconds as Sanji downed them and sent a silent prayer to whoever decided to let Chopper have the lack of common sense to join their crew, they turned around, probably on their way back to the stove that now sizzled and emitted the lovely smell of caramelized onions and garlic—and if his nose wasn’t betraying him, simmering in some balsamic vinegar and soy sauce—that he had memorized long ago. But after a moments’ hesitation, they walked up to him once again, sliding his jacket out from underneath him and carefully folding it.

“You should go to your quarters and get a proper sleep in. I’ve got it from here.” With that sweet smile of theirs that threatened to send his heart into overdrive, they began to usher him out. “When you’re up again, I’ll reheat your food for you. You don’t look so ready to eat now.”

If he was looking as green as he felt, he couldn’t blame them one bit for calling it out as it is. Clearing his throat once then twice, he tried to speak again, voice awfully raspy (even more than after he’d had a smoke). “You… you cooked?”

They hummed in affirmation, now with their back turned to him as they began to crack eggs into a pan. “Not done yet, but yeah. You’ve only slept a couple of hours, so I figured it would be better if I managed to get us through breakfast in your place. Won’t be as good as yours, but I hope you can trust me to try.”

As they waved off to their left, he saw how they’d propped up his notebook against the pepper shaker. And maybe this was just him feeling extra sensitive and still a little in a haze, but something stirred in his chest at the thought of them carefully following every step in his recipes and diligently trying to emulate his cooking.

“Mon ange, you shouldn’t have…” His voice was still a little rough yet trembling with the emotions he couldn’t even try to hide; emotions that were bigger than his own feeble heart could take. His fists curled at his sides, eyebrows furrowed as he watched them elegantly handle the kitchenware like they were their own. This was too much for him. “I can handle my own hangover. It’s… it’s not your responsibility to do my own job.”

With a sigh, they turned down the stove and looked back at him with an exasperated yet incredibly fond look in their eyes. “You silly man, no one’s forcing me to do this.” At the affectionate lilt of their voice, Sanji’s mouth went dry, and he tried to swallow (with much difficulty) past the lump in his throat.

What could he have possibly done to deserve this? He can’t have earned this much goodness. There simply was no way.

“You don’t have to earn my love, Sanji.” Fuck. Had he really said that out loud? Their soft-spoken words and the sympathetic look in their eyes told him that yes, he had. He hadn’t intended to make himself sound so pathetic, and yet here he was, accepting the way they brushed his curly eyebrow with slivers of shame curling inside his chest. “I’ve already told you, my love is yours to keep,” they softly said.

“Your… pardon, quoi?” His heart came to a stuttering stop, all his movements halted and his eyes blown wide open almost comically as the words they said finally hit him.

One look at how utterly confused and shocked he looked, and realization seemed to dawn on their face. “I guess it would be too ambitious of me to expect you to remember much of last night,” they huffed out a laugh, before taking to the chopping board and beginning to chop up some fresh vegetables as they slowly spoke, as though hoping to break it gently. “You weren’t the only one who had an indirect confession in store.”

Digging the palms of his hands into his closed eyes, Sanji threw back his head and groaned as the memories came back to him bit by bit, achingly slowly and then all at once. “Merde,” he hissed out, the throbbing in his head doubling with every image that replayed in his head. “I can’t believe…” It was almost like he’d set a personal challenge for how much a person could embarrass themself within less than 12 hours.

What other explanation was there for him just completely forgetting that the one person who’d burrowed into the depths of his heart had somehow expressed that they felt the same for him? How else could he explain not remembering that they’d said that they wanted to be with him, in some miraculous way that he still couldn’t quite believe was real?

The chop-chop-chop of the knife stilled, and they set it down with a chuckle that sent tingles down his spine and his heart into near cardiac arrest. Lovely, lovely, lovely. His hangover seemed to have a weak spot for their laughter too, because why else would his headache somehow chip away just at the sound?

They were quick to soothe him with their words, their hands reaching up to tug his arms back to his sides. “It’s fine, I promise. You’re just a bit disoriented now.” Looking into such a fond gaze didn’t help the heat rushing to his cheeks, and he found himself being reminded of just how desperately in love he was; so much that he could swear it burned him alive. “I mean it though,” they earnestly mumbled, tenderly cupping his face, “and I’ll wait till you’re well-rested. Then we’ll talk.”

“Alright,” he managed to whisper out between breaths, “But—“

“Go.” They gave him a gentle push, before turning around to stir something in a small pot and add some spices that made the smell even more tantalizing. “If you don’t want breakfast to be a disaster, that is. Wouldn’t want to send my boyfriend’s kitchen up in flames.”

That’s it. A sharp pang in the deepest crevices of his chest and he was gone, his head floating with dizziness and his vision swimming. Sanji was long dead and on his way to whichever heaven would accept him; a heaven where he was somehow inexplicably loved and wanted; a heaven where he’d hear those words from their lips and know that they were indeed—thanks to some ridiculously generous higher power that blessed him beyond his wildest dreams—referring to him.

The last thing he felt were his limbs failing to keep supporting him, and a lightheadedness that overtook him so suddenly, crumpling to the ground in a helpless heap.

I think I’m gonna die a lucky man, he dazedly thought to himself, before finally succumbing to a blissful unconsciousness against the cold kitchen floor.

“Sanji!”

Taglist: @stories-that-shaped-me @finch-ya @wifeofkyojuro @fluffismystaplefood @angry-and-yandere @semi-orangeapple @carsonology @respitable @spotted-salamander @musiclover2119 @thatbaepizzalover @scentisterror @shengbiao-shiny @jammycheese @klutzycora-san @hyunskz

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whatsthethinking · 2 years ago

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Somebody's Lover

Neteyam x Fem!Reader

◈ Word count: 3.3k

◈ Warning: n/a? Maybe just Neteyam being in love

◈ Note: Second request :) based on this video? Maybe, I tried. I'm finally getting around to the requests that have been collecting dust in my inbox

◈ Lo’ak version

The elders of the Omatikaya clan were becoming concerned with Neteyam, he was to pass his rites in a matter of weeks and yet, he hasn’t shown any indication of even thinking about choosing a mate. It was no secret that the young Na’vi had many admirers, many fighting amongst themselves to get a sliver of attention from the Olo’keytan’s eldest son.

But none of them seemed to have a chance. Neteyam did not show that he favoured one person over another. Everyone was treated with the same level of respect, and greeted them with perfect manners. Everyone was equal, even if Neteyam didn’t particularly like you.

Some parents would even go as far as having their children befriend Lo’ak or Kiri, even little Tuk and those who were really desperate would seek out Spider but these schemes did not go very far once they were met with Neytiri’s fiery gaze, the protective mother was able to detect their plans from miles away.

It seemed like no one had a chance, Neteyam hadn’t shown interest in anyone within his clan for what seemed like years now, not that anyone was counting. There was a time when the clan thought that Tahé was to be the ‘one’.

Tahé is the eldest daughter of Jake’s most trusted warriors, she would often train alongside Neteyam in their youth and was close to the Sully family growing up but as time went on, it was clear that the Tahé and the Sully children had grown distant. You would no longer see Kiri and Tahé skipping through the forest in search of flowers to weave, or Lo’ak dragging the girl along to get into trouble. You would see Neteyam following clan members around, learning how to forage for food, Tahé would be trailing behind him with a dazed look on her face as Neteyam soaked up all of the information.

But, it was clear that the distance started to form once Tahé had started making friends with the older children in the clan. Those older children would take time out of their day to bully Kiri and Lo’ak for being different, Tahé standing behind them not saying a word. More often than not, it would be Neteyam stepping in to put an end to the teasing, Tahé would bat her eyelashes, dismissing her new friend’s behaviour but Neteyam isn’t stupid, nor is he deaf. He could hear the teasing, he could hear his siblings cry at night. As much as Neteyam disliked the girl, he knew he had to keep up appearances and bite his tongue.

And tonight was no different, the clan was having a communal dinner to celebrate this week's very successful hunt, one that Neteyam had taken part in and was being praised for. Lo’ak, Kiri and Tuk sat to Neytiri’s left, conversing with her and their grandmother. Neteyam had been sandwiched between his father and Tahé, Tahé’s father and mother beside her.

“You should be proud of yourself, Neteyam. I was told you worked extremely hard today.” Tahé’s father praised.

“Thank you, sir.” Neteyam replied looking down at his food, “Everyone worked hard.”

“Yes, yes. But you made two sturmbeest kills mere seconds apart from each other.”

“You did?” Tahé’s eyes lit up, “you’re very talented, maybe you can teach me how you did it?”

Even though Tahé’s voice filled the air, Neteyam didn’t hear her, he was too focused on the events happening in the distance. A Na’vi girl his age was swatting a Na’vi boy's hand away from her food, while their parents ignored them, indicating this was a common occurrence.

The boy stopped his antics when his eyes met Neteyam’s, the boy’s face broke out into a large grin as he waved his hand above his head enthusiastically. The older girl rolled her eyes dramatically before offering a smile in Neteyam’s direction which he returned.

“He would love to,” Jake started, looking at Neteyam and tapping the boy’s arm to regain his attention, “isn’t that right Neteyam?”

Neteyam’s face flushed as he had been caught not paying attention to the conversation. He looked at his father for any indication of what was happening but he was just met with his father’s smirk and a twinkle of mischief in his eye that Neytiri would suggest meant he was up to no good.

“I guess?”

“Great! Tomorrow?” Tahé questioned, clearly not sensing that the boy was not interested.

“N-no. Not tomorrow, I have plans.”

“Oh, the day after then?”

Neteyam looked at Tahé and her family, he felt all eyes on him. He was sure he could hear Lo’ak howling at his expense.

“Sure?”

Damn it

Something else about Neteyam that the clan noticed? His inability to say ‘no’.

—

“No,” Neteyam said flatly, adjusting the bow on his chest

“Bro come on, please, dad’s already on my ass for sneaking out after eclipse, just come with me. Please.” Lo’ak all but begged as he watched his brother saddle his ikran

“That’s not my problem, I told you and Spider not to go but you did anyways and now Spider’s wrist is broken, Lo’ak.”

Lo’ak looked at his brother in confusion, this side of him was different. Yes, he was used to his brother scolding him or helping him cover up his antics or coming along so no one got hurt, but in the past months, Neteyam had been brushing off his plans to cause trouble.

“You’re gonna ditch me for Tahé, aren’t you? That’s low.”

“Tahé?” Neteyam’s face contorted in confusion, “why would I ditch you for her?”

“You don’t remember?” Lo’ak stared at his brother in disbelief, “You really don’t remember. Oh my. You agreed to help her with hunting or whatever today. She’s been running around telling everyone it’s a date or something. You would know that if you were around yesterday.”

Neteyam lept onto his ikran forming the bond and getting comfortable, “I’ll reschedule.”

Before Lo’ak could make a snide comment, Neteyam and his ikran took off into the sky.

“Oh, I can not wait to see her face.” Lo’ak smiles cheekily as he walks off, excited to tell his old friend that the love of her life stood her up.

—

“You need to hold the bow like this or you’ll drop the arrows.”

Neteyam nodded trying to focus on the instructions being given to him, but he was distracted by his teachers' close proximity.

Y/n circled Neteyam before stopping beside him, adjusting his fingers and stepping back.

“Okay, shoot.”

Neteyam took a deep breath before releasing the two arrows, both arrows had hit way off centre, one was right at the edge of the target, a small breeze could send the arrow hurtling into the bush beside it.

“Oh?”

“Shut it,” Neteyam blushed, shooting two arrows at once was harder than the girl before him made it seem.

Y/n quickly retrieved the arrows and made her way back towards Neteyam, a teasing smile on her lips, “looks like the mighty warrior needs more practice.”

Neteyam reached a hand out, placing it on top of y/n’s that were wrapped around the two arrows and pulled her forward gently until she was standing directly in front of him

“I’ll need all the help I can get.”

Neteyam smiled sweetly, taking in his lover's face.

When he was with y/n it was like time stood still and nothing around him mattered. Being with y/n he felt like he could be himself, he could relax, there was no one to impress, no one holding him to a high standard. Being with y/n he felt nervous but also with her, he felt at peace.

Neteyam leaned down slightly and y/n closed the gap, Neteyam’s hand moved up and gently held the side of her head as their lips met. Y/n’s free hand held Neteyam’s arm, her fingers giving his arm a gentle squeeze.

Neteyam could feel his heart pick up speed as y/n dropped her arrows and raised her hands to rest them on his shoulders and then slowly around his neck. He followed suit and dropped his bow on the ground, bringing his hands to her waist.

The sound of his ikran chittering brought the pair out of their embrace. Neteyam’s face flushed as he suddenly felt shy, not looking y/n in the eye. The girl grinned, bringing a hand to his chin and moving his head so he could meet her gaze.

“Always so shy.” She teased placing a kiss on the corner of his mouth.

Neteyam chuckled under his breath, a hand gently caressing the small of her back, “What can I say? You’re absolutely stunning.”

Y/n’s face blushed at the compliment, causing her to look down slightly.

Y/n took Neteyam’s hand, leading him to her ikran. When they arrived, y/n let go of his hand and opened the bag she had attached to its saddle. Reaching in and pulling out a small parcel wrapped in fabric. She handed it to Neteyam, her hands fidgeting nervously as he began to unwrap it.

“I remember that you said you like the one I have, so I made you your own,” Y/n admitted shyly as Neteyam ran a finger over the woven cords and then the stone sitting in the middle.

Neteyam reached around and quickly untied his beaded choker, replacing it with the necklace. When he was sure that it was secure, he grinned at her before placing his hands on either side of her face and dramatically kissing her forehead.

“Mwah!” He exclaimed as she laughed, “I love it.”

—

As Neytiri chopped the vegetables, her ears twitched hearing Jake half-heartedly apologise to Tahé’s father for her eldest son's disappearance. Her eldest son had been disappearing more and more recently. She had an idea what could be going on with Neteyam for the past few months but she felt like she should leave it to him to tell him.

“Neteyam’s back!“ Tuk exclaimed, pointing to the sky, sure enough, Neteyam and his ikran were making a slow descent in the distance, moments later, the boy in question stepped through the low-hanging trees into view. As the boy emerged, Neytiri instantly noticed the change in her son’s appearance, his usual beaded choker that he wore with pride had been replaced with a woven necklace, and his hair had changed too. The beads that resided at the front of his hair were now in a different colour order and there was also an orange feather dangling behind his ear.

The whispering was almost instantaneous but it did not seem to affect Neteyam as he made his way towards the family tent. Passing Jake and Tahé’s father in the process. Seeing him, Jake said bye to the other man and followed his son into the tent. Neytiri stood up as well and walked in with Tuk rushing behind.

Just as Neteyam entered the family tent, Jake’s hand reached out toward the boy’s back, pulling a white and blue feathered arrow out of the quiver. Jake instantly noticed that this arrow didn’t belong to his son or anyone in his family and at a stretch anyone in the clan.

Neteyam spun around at the slight weight change and his eyes locked onto the arrow being twisted between Jake’s fingers.

“This isn’t yours.” Jake stated, “Where were you?”

“Practising.”

“Practising?”

“Yes?”

Jake hummed as he took in this lie, he liked to believe he knew his children well and one thing about Neteyam, he was a terrible liar. Something they clearly had to work on.

“Who did you practise with?” Jake questioned with humour in his voice and Neteyam’s eyes failed to keep contact with him.

“A friend.”

“Oh? And does this friend have a name?”

Neteyam’s mouth opened and closed quickly, looking at his mother for help.

“Ma Jake, you’re embarrassing him,” Neytiri interjected, taking the arrow from between her mate’s fingers.

“I am not, I'm just asking questions.”

Neytiri gave Jake a look before handing Neteyam the arrow. Jake cleared his throat, crossing his arms over his chest.

“You ditched Tahé, again.” Jake stated to his son, putting on an authoritative tone, “Her dad was just here telling me how upset she is.”

Tuk rolled her eyes at her father’s antics, taking the arrow from Neteyam, everyone in this tent knew that Jake did not like Tahé around his children but for the sake of keeping the peace, he bites his tongue.

“I forgot.”

“Forgot with your friend?”

Neteyam paused momentarily before nodding, “Yes?”

Jake dropped the act at his son’s hesitant honesty.

“She make you that necklace?” Neteyam nodded

“She do your hair?” Again, Neteyam nodded

“Have you kissed her yet?”

“Ma Jake!” “Daddy!”

“What? I’m just asking.”

—

The next evening, Neteyam found himself walking confidently through the camp, hoping to not be stopped on the way to his destination.

Neteyam led the pair through the bioluminescent forest, being sure to brush any low-hanging vines out of the way.

“Where are we going?” Y/n questioned, looking around, no matter how many times she ran through the forest during the day, it does not dull the beauty it holds at night

“Just a little further, I promise.” Neteyam smiled, squeezing her hand.

Walking along a thick branch, moving the flora away from her legs, he motioned her to step forward onto the mountain edge as he placed a small basket on the ground, the moss beneath her feet lighting up with every step she took.

“Wow.” Y/n breathed out taking in the view. From here, you could see almost the whole forest

Neteyam walked behind her, wrapping his arms around her waist and resting his chin on her shoulder.

“This is beautiful, Neteyam.” She whispered, placing her arms on top of his and taking in the view. “How did you know to come here?”

“Running around after Lo’ak has some advantages.” He smiled, placing a kiss on her shoulder.

Y/n laughed slightly at the thought of the younger boy that always seemed to attract trouble, he was very similar to her own brother, the only difference was that Lo’ak was the Olo'eyktan’s son so if he was to get in trouble, everyone knew about it.

Neteyam placed another kiss on the girl's shoulder and slowly made his way up her neck. Y/n turned her head and their lips brushed against one another.

“What are you doing?”

“Admiring you,” Neteyam replied softly, “is that okay?”

Y/n nodded, turning around, the boy pulling her into a kiss, much more passionate than the ones shared the day prior.

—

Y/n straddled Neteyam’s lap, her knees sinking into the moss. Neteyam’s hands ran up y/n’s thighs and rested on her hips.

Y/n placed one arm behind the back of his neck and used her free hand to trace the bioluminous flecks across his forehead, down his nose to his chin. Neteyam looked up at y/n, eyes full of love and admiration.

“I love you,” Neteyam said without a hint of hesitation or the usual shyness in his voice, a gentle smile on his face.

“I love you, too,” Y/n replied, smiling down at him lovingly.

—

Y/n walked into the clearing where other teens were training, her brother, Kalä, trailing behind her complaining about not wanting to train this early.

“We’re here for you, not for me.” She reminded him, rolling her eyes as he started to complain louder.

Y/n ignored him as she lent her bow against a tree and started to sort out her arrows.

Out of the corner of her eye, y/n noticed Tahé walking into the clearing with her obnoxious group of friends. As the group passes, Tahé eyed the girl before stopping fully next to her.

“Y/n, it’s been so long, are you here to train with us?” Her tone was somewhat condescending

Y/n looked down at the arrows in her hand and then back at the girl, “Did the arrows in my hand tell you that?”

Kalä bit back a smile at his sister's response which didn’t go unnoticed by the other girl who glared subtly at him.

“It’s just that I haven’t seen you around in such a long time, I was concerned, I thought something happened.”

Y/n resisted the urge to roll her eyes at the girl, instead looking to the other side of the clearing where Jake Sully, Neytiri and their two sons had walked in. Tahé’s eyes followed, her eyes lighting up at the sight. The girl quickly ran her hand over her hair and down her outfit before slowly turning away, y/n noticed that Kalä had extended his foot out but she pushed him to the side so he didn’t succeed in tripping the annoying girl.

“Behave.” She muttered, turning away to finish organising the arrows.

Tahé’s friends followed behind, chatting amongst themselves, none of them having the courage to walk up to the Olo'eyktan directly.

“She’s just so, urgh. I can’t stand her. Look at her, drooling over Neteyam, wait until she finds out he’s been shoving his ton-”

Y/n turned to her brother swiftly, hitting him in the arm with the end of an arrow, eyes wide in disbelief.

“Ow! I’m sensitive!” Kalä exclaimed defensively, holding onto his arm.

This caused the siblings to start bickering amongst themselves, which started to draw the attention of some clan members around them.

—

Neteyam looked around the clearing, he tried to make it seem like he was just surveying the area but in reality, he was looking for the girl he spent the whole night speaking to, the pair only making it back to their tents just as the sun was rising.

At the far end of the clearing, Neteyam spotted a familiar sibling poking each other in the shoulder.

Neteyam smiled, looking down at the grass surrounding his feet.

“Neteyam!”

He raised his head slowly to see Tahé walking toward him and his family, Lo’ak sighed and rolled his eyes as Neytiri nudged him. Jake looked back at his eldest son, s smile creeping onto his face as he saw Neteyam resist the urge to copy his brother.

“Good morning.” Tahé greeted cheerfully, a grin stretching onto her face.

“You’re very chipper this morning, so you must’ve already ruined someone's day,” Lo’ak stated only to receive a stern look from his father.

Tahé was about to retaliate but she was stopped as someone rushed forward, almost knocking her to the floor.

“Sorry! Neteyam! Finally, you’re here!” Kalä announced, skidding to a stop next to the boy, “Save me.”

Neteyam smiled at the younger boy, excusing himself from Tahé and his family, walking towards where y/n was standing, testing a bow.

“Look, Neteyam’s here!”

Y/n turned to smile at Neteyam before glaring at her brother, pushing the bow and an arrow into his chest before crossing her arms, “Go.”

“But-”

“Go, I’ll join you in a minute.” Neteyam intervened nodding at the younger boy

Kalä smiled smugly before walking off quickly to where other teens were waiting for an instructor.

“You don’t have to help him, you know,” Y/n sighed, uncrossing her arms, letting them fall to her side and placing her weight onto one leg.

“I want to,” Neteyam confirmed with a smile, watching the boy join his friends.

With their backs to the clearing, everyone was able to see Neteyam’s hand slowly make his way towards y/n’s, taking hold of it and bringing it to his mouth, kissing her knuckles, causing the girl to turn and smile at him.

Jake nodded approvingly while Neytiri smiled fondly.

Lo’ak was proud of his brother for finding someone he liked and he was even happier when he watched Tahé’s face drop and her shoulders sag in defeat.

Request from @tigermoon3

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saiintvalentiine · 2 months ago

Note

Hi Saiint! *heres a (virtual) dogfies plushie for you

Could I get a apologetic Parrotx2… :3 like he finally realizes how mean and ignorant he has been to wifies sometimes and actually says sorry says that he cares about him,.. that dog deserves apology and comfort :(

sorry for holding ur request hostage this dogfies is just so stinkin cute that every time i opened my inbox id see him and get cuteness aggression :(((( sweetest baby ever............ set in the first war video when they talk on the stairs at around 25 mins!

Word count: 508

“I’m really sorry for everything I said,” Wifies says, wringing his hands together. “I want to help you again. I’m sorry for not understanding your point of view.”

The thing about anger is that it’s easy. It’s hot. It expands. It rises. It fills. The anger is there, Parrot could touch it, a weight that breathes like a wounded animal in his chest.

But he’s sick of blood and wounds and burning. He can see the red around Wifies’s nails despite the way he’s moving them. The darkness under his eyes.

It hurts. Parrot is tired of everything hurting. He’s tired of— of hurting everyone around him. For once, he’d like to actually fix something. Not patch it over, not help it escape its fate for only one more day, but fix it. He can fix this, them.

“I’m sorry too,” Parrot says. Wifies’s eyes flutter, uncertain, dodgy.

“What?”

“I’m sorry. I didn’t think about how you felt either.”

It’s strange to see Wifies so still. He was all quick, small motions just a second ago, but it’s like Parrot’s dropped sand on his head.

“It’s— don’t worry about it. I was being inconsiderate.”

“So was I,” Parrot can’t stop himself from pacing, wings rustling. “The worst thing getting here was turning around expecting you to be there and nothing. It was awful. I kept thinking about how I had begun to rely on you being there with me.”

He drifts closer and closer to Wifies, who watches him with wide eyes. Is this such a surprise? Parrot can’t blame him. He can’t remember the last time they talked like this.

“But it was plenty of time and silence to think. I realize now that you care.”

“I do,” Wifies sounds more stressed than before, voice rising.

“And that what you did, what you said. . . it was because you care, and you were scared.”

“Terrified,” Wifies corrects. He starts to pick at his nail beds. “Parrot, I have so few people I’m close to in this life, and I don’t think I’ll be this lucky in the next. The idea of losing you terrifies me.”

There’s something unnerving about how Wifies says that, as if he’s resigned to loss but holding on anyway. He’s never been that much of a pessimist. Parrot reaches over and pries Wifies’s hands apart, holding them tight.

“You’re not going to lose me,” Parrot rubs his thumbs across the back of Wifies’s hands. They tremble in his grip, fine and shallow but trembling nonetheless. “You were trying to protect me. I’m sorry for not thinking of it that way.”

It’s easy to pull Wifies close and hug him. He curls up into Parrot instantly, breath puffing against Parrot’s throat as he presses close. Parrot’s wings rise around them, a second layer to keep prying eyes away. This is for them.

It doesn’t burn. It aches, but in a good way, the way a yellowed bruise does. Or maybe it doesn’t hurt at all, the way it was always meant to be between them.

#ask #dyn4motter #parrotx2 #wifies #saiintly apocrypha #saiintly hymn #i made him my phone background btw. i literally immediately fell in love w the feller.

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satellite-evans · 18 days ago

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closure

Pairing: Carlos Sainz x ex!reader

Summary: you don't need Carlos' closure.

Word count: 2k+

Warnings: angst, based on the Taylor Swift song

A/N:

This my third fic for the folkmore series, and it is with none other than Carlos Sainz! This is my first time writing for him so I was quite nervous, please tell me what you think!

English is not my first language, so I apologize if I made any (grammar) mistakes. Feedback, requests, talks, vents, recommendations or just simple questions are always welcome.

Happy reading xxx

I do NOT give permission for my work to be translated or reposted on here or any other site.

It arrives in your inbox at 2:17 AM, the timestamp almost mocking the stillness of the night. The world outside is quiet, the kind of silence that fills your room with its weight, pressing against your ribs as if the very air knows what’s coming.

The email subject line is simple.

Just wanted you to know.

For a moment, you just stare at it. The words are innocuous, almost casual, but your heart knows better. You’ve seen that phrase before—at least in the way it echoed in your mind, in the way you tried to convince yourself you’d be fine without any more explanations.

And for some reason, you already know what it’s about. You don’t need to open it to feel the heavy, familiar knot tightening in your stomach. The ache in your chest that had dulled over time, the one you had worked so hard to ignore, throbs with renewed intensity, as if it’s alive and remembering the shape of old wounds. It’s as though your body recognizes him before your mind even does, and it reacts accordingly—a reflex you can’t outrun.

Your hands tremble slightly, the familiar sensation of fear and longing mixing in your veins, but you can't bring yourself to look away. The old ache becomes a weight in your throat, too, and for a moment, you're almost paralyzed by the gravity of it. You know this isn’t just a message. This is a door opening, an invitation to face something you buried deep. But you click on it anyway, drawn in by something you can’t explain, a part of you still hoping that maybe—just maybe—this will be the thing that makes it all make sense.

I just wanted you to know I hope you're doing well. I know things ended messy between us, and I hate that. I really do. I never wanted to hurt you, and I know that I did.

I’m sorry for how I left. For not saying enough. For saying too much. For everything in between.

I hope you’re happy. I really do.

- Carlos.

The words stare back at you, flat on the screen, sterile and detached. They sit there like a sentence of finality, as if they’re not even meant for you, but for someone who doesn’t carry the weight of your history with him. It’s just an email—another digital scrap of text sent into the void of the night. But after everything, after all that’s passed, this is what he gives you? Does he think that you’re just a situation that needs to be handled? A string of hollow words with no breath behind them, no warmth, nothing that even remotely resembles the person you once knew. No, not even that. The person you thought you knew.

It was almost ironic how the shape of his name still spelled out pain. Every letter, every syllable, carried a weight that dug deep, as if each time you thought of him, the wound reopened. It was strange, how someone you once loved could still manage to hurt you, even in their absence. Everything about him—his words, his actions, even his silence—had caused so much damage that it was honestly a little concerning.

You hated him. No, despised him. The anger simmered under your skin like a constant burn, always just beneath the surface, ready to erupt. The audacity he had, the way he thought he could just walk away, leaving destruction in his wake—it was almost unbelievable. He was wrong in so many ways the day he broke up with you. The way it all went down, how he acted like it was the easiest thing in the world, how he twisted every word you’d said into something it wasn’t—it was wrong, all of it. And by the looks of it, he probably knew by now. He had to. The way time had passed, the way people talked, the way you’d changed—he had to know the damage he’d done.

Your mind replays the last time you saw him. You can still picture it so vividly—the way he had stood in the doorway of your apartment, arms crossed over his chest like a shield, his eyes dark with something you couldn’t read. He looked smaller somehow, the exhaustion wearing him down, hanging off of him like a second skin, like he was carrying the weight of the world on his shoulders, yet he couldn't find it in himself to care about you anymore. The lines in his face were deeper, like time had been more unforgiving to him than you ever realized. The way his jaw clenched so tightly when you had begged him to just talk to you, that desperate plea falling from your lips like a prayer, but he wouldn’t listen. His silence had cut deeper than anything he could have said. The way he hadn’t looked back when he walked away. Not once. Not a single glance. Like you didn’t exist. That was when you realized he had put a distance between you two ages ago that you were finally seeing—a sea you were too tired to cross.

The door had clicked shut behind him with a finality that shattered you into pieces you weren’t sure you could ever put back together. That sound—the click of the lock—wasn’t just the end of a visit, but the end of everything. The end of any future you thought you’d have together. You didn’t just lose him in that moment. You lost the life you’d built around him. And you’ve been trying to rebuild ever since.

And now, months later, this. This email. A quiet, late-night message, sterile in its simplicity, like he was trying to offer a neat little bow to wrap up the wreckage he left behind. But there’s no ribbon to tie, no neatness to this. What he gave you wasn’t closure—it was a reminder that, for all his talk of wanting to make amends, he’s still incapable of meeting you where you need him.

You slam your laptop shut, too quickly, too harshly, as if the words might physically reach out and strangle you if you don’t. For a moment, your fingers linger on the lid, shaking, the intensity of your pulse drowning out the quiet hum of the city outside. The night has become suffocating, and you can’t tell if it’s because of the email, or because you’re finally confronting what you’ve been trying to ignore for so long. The pain hasn’t gone anywhere, and neither has the ache. It sits with you like an old friend, one you can’t seem to shake.

It’s almost laughable, really. You can’t help but chuckle bitterly to yourself as you stare at the screen. He thinks he’s giving you closure. That this carefully constructed email, this rehearsed apology, is supposed to fix something, to heal the rift that’s been eating away at you for months. That it will somehow mend the fractures in your heart as if it’s something that can be neatly patched up with a few well-chosen words. But the truth is, it doesn’t even come close. No, this isn’t closure. This isn’t even an attempt at healing—it’s just an afterthought, a last-ditch effort to clear his conscience without ever truly facing the damage he caused. And it’s almost insulting.

Closure isn’t an email at 2 AM, casually dropped into your life as though he’s just checking off a box. It isn’t a collection of words stripped of warmth, void of real feeling, written at a distance, with no regard for the time, or the place, or the person it’s supposed to reach. Closure would have been a conversation. A real one. A face-to-face moment where he would have stayed, where he would have stayed long enough to listen, to hear you, and not just walk away the moment it got hard. That would have been closure. But he didn’t stay. He left you behind with nothing but the echoes of your unanswered questions.

Your breath catches in your throat, and for a moment, you struggle to steady yourself. You take a deep breath, but it shudders on the way in, uneven and sharp. It feels like your lungs are betraying you, like they can’t hold the air in anymore, and you’re left gasping in the void between anger and heartache. Your throat is thick with unshed tears, but you refuse to let them fall. Not again. Not for him. You’ve cried enough tears for him already, enough for a lifetime. You promised yourself you wouldn’t do this anymore, that you wouldn’t let him be the reason you hurt.

You want to reply. You want to scream, to let him know how deeply he’s failed you, how his absence is still an open wound, festering in the corners of your mind. You want to tell him that, even now, you still wake up in the middle of the night, expecting to hear his voice, expecting to feel the weight of his arm around your waist. You still reach for him in the dark, your fingers grasping at air, and you realize too late that he’s not there. You want to tell him that every time you see red—Ferrari red, that damn red, the color of his car, of everything he used to be to you—you feel like you might break all over again, like all the pieces you’ve tried to pick up and put together have shattered into even smaller bits.

But he's not Ferrari red anymore. He's Williams blue now. You’d probably be a new wrinkle in his life, a person who wouldn’t fit. Heck, you didn’t even fit when he was in Ferrari. You could answer him back, tell him you forgave him, that you both could be friends again. Maybe that would iron everything out nicely.

But you won’t. You won’t give him that satisfaction. You won’t give him the power to pull you back into this mess, into this space where you lose yourself every time you think about him. He doesn’t deserve that. You don’t deserve to let him keep doing this to you.

The frustration, the hurt, the unanswered questions—they all feel like they're swirling in a storm that won't quiet. You crawl into bed, pulling the blankets around yourself as if they could offer the protection your mind and heart desperately crave.

You are fine. Everything is fine. You had your beers, your occasional crying sessions, your candles. You were doing so much better without him. You had to.

It cut deep, knowing him, all the way to the bone. The breakup had been necessary. It had to be. You were healing, getting better, moving on. Or at least, that’s what you told yourself.

But the ache in your chest and the rapid, shallow breaths you couldn't control told a different story. It was one you knew the ending to but didn’t want to face. His email was oh so unnecessary, cruel even. He had broken up with you months ago, and yet here he was again, trying to reach back into your life. He shouldn’t have contacted you. He should’ve left you alone.

And you definitely should’ve stayed in bed.

Hatred and regret twisted inside of you, each trying to take the lead, but you were too exhausted to figure out which was winning. Still, you knew you had to respond.

Your gaze lingered on the laptop screen for what felt like hours, your mind scrambling for the right words, something that could strike him, something that would hurt, something that would linger with him forever the way he had lingered in your life. But nothing came.

Instead, what you found was something deeper—something far more painful.

Acceptance.

Acceptance was the true winner in the battle between your emotions. It was the thing you’d been running from, the thing you’d fought so hard to avoid. You had accepted it.

It was over.

So, with a steady hand, you typed the final words you’d ever send him and blocked his email so he could never contact you again.

"I don’t need your closure."

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madeinnaboo · 1 year ago

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His master pt.2 | Anakin Skywalker

aaa thank you so so much for all the nice comments and msgs! I can't even express how happy I am you guys like what I write:`)

part one.

words: 2.8k warnings: sub! anakin, praising, unprotected sex, nicknames, smut, dom! reader,

requests are open:)

!this is my secondary blog, I can't answer comments, please msg me in my inbox or private msgs:)!

,,Master, is everything okay?" The voice of your padawn has stopped you in your tracks. You turned around to see him leaning against the marble wall.

,,Have you been waiting here the whole time?" You asked, trying not to sound annoyed. You weren't upset at him, but you were scared he might think so.

,,I heard you arguing" He ignored your question as he took a step closer to you. With a deep panic inside of you, you took a step back and looked around to make sure no one was there.

,,Let's talk somewhere else, please" You practically begged him, and with a quick nod, he followed you. The final destination was your room, since it was very far away from everything and everyone. The walk was quiet as you went through what happened a couple of minutes ago with the Jedi Council. On your last mission with Anakin, a mother with an injured child asked if you could provide a safe shelter for them and a couple more people on Coruscant. Your heart ached for them, and you promised you'd help them. After arriving back from the mission, you called for an emergency meeting, fully believing the council would help. Helping everyone was what the Jedi fought for, right? You couldn't believe your ears when everyone voted for not helping the people. Apparently it was too dangerous, and it would cross some sort of deal with the oppressors of the people. After a long fight with them, you had to back away due to a very carefully placed threat against you and your position in the council. With a quick lie that you understood, you left the room, knowing very well that you'd be calling someone to go get the people and hide them on some remote planet.

,,Now it's you who's lost in their thoughts, master" Anakin broke the silence after following you into your room. You looked up at him and gave him a tired smile. The two of you haven't talked about what happened between you the other day. You tried very hard not to even think about it.

You sat down on your bed and gestured Anakin to sit next to you. With no hesitation, he sat down, studying your worried face. You then took some time to tell him about the situation, carefully explaining the mess. When you were done, Anakin looked even more upset than you, which made you relax a little bit, knowing you weren't overreacting.

,,What are we going to do?" He asked, almost ready to go fight the council himself. You grabbed his hand, gently caressing the top of it. A feeling you've been trying to hide from him for so long fully filled your whole body.

,,You..." you implied ,,...are not going to do anything Anakin" You said with a serious voice, trying to ignore the fact that you fully accepted how deeply you cared about your padawn. Anakin looked more than confused.

,,But-" He started, and you stood up, turning to face him.

,,But nothing. I am not going to risk the council expelling you and ruining your life, Anakin. If they ever find out... you had nothing to do with it, that's an order. Understand?" You said as images of the council punishing Anakin filled your mind. You couldn't let that happen. He was quiet, looking at you.

,,Understand?" You tilted your head, sounding maybe a bit too harsh. He stood up before walking to you.

,,I understand, master" He whispered as his eyes traveled down to your lips. Both of you knowing that was a lie. He reached down to you, planning on kissing you, but you quickly stopped it by turning around.

,,I am going to call one of my friends about this plan" You told him before hurrying out of the room. It was absurd, you were trying to protect him from getting into this mess while literally putting him into even more danger by allowing him to feel something towards you. You wanted to scream and cry, but instead you headed to your office. Where you spent over 5 hours going over the plan again and again, making sure it was perfect. There was a lot on the line. Your childhood friend, whom you haven't seen for years, was more than happy to help you save a couple of lives. He agreed to take all the people to his home planet, where he would get them a job on his farm and pay them well. It was the best you could do on such a short notice, and you found yourself thanking him repeatedly for the whole duration of the call. You gave him the coordinates where he would find their village and told him to tell them you had sent him. The last thing before the call ended was him promising to let you know as soon as they would be safe. You sat in your chair for another couple of minutes before getting up and heading back to your room. The hall was lit since it was already very dark outside. You entered your room just to see Anakin sitting on your bed. You let out a groan as you closed the door behind you.

,,What are you doing here, Anakin?" You asked him before walking to your mirror. Your hair has been in a tight ponytail for just too long now.

,,You didn't dismiss me, master," he said, looking at you in the mirror. You furrowed your brows as you turned around to look at him. A smirk grew across his lips.

,,I am joking, I wanted to make sure you were okay...emotionally" He said as he walked to you. You quickly shifted your gaze back to yourself as you loosened the ponytail, letting your hair freely fall down your back. Anakin was standing just a few inches away from you.

,,I like when you have your hair like this" He said quietly before placing a wet kiss on your neck. The room quickly became airless, and you closed your eyes.

,,Anakin" You said with a warning tone, without actually doing anything to stop him. His hands grabbed your hips as he continued to kiss the side of your neck from behind. You finally gave in and rested your body against his. His kisses went from your neck to your shoulder, where he gently bit you. His hands on your hips made you turn around. You looked up at him as you placed your hands on his chest.

,,Can I kiss you?`` He asked, his cheeks completely red. He looked so adorable. His eyes were glued to your lips, and you just simply nodded. With no more hesitation, he broke the distance between you, kissing your lips. The kiss was needy and sloppy. It was clear it was his first time kissing someone, and you felt your knees wobble. His large hands cupped your face, and you deepened the kiss, sort of taking the lead again. Your hands traveled across his clothed chest, feeling his muscles. You pressed into his chest to make him walk backward while still making out with him. When his legs hit your bed, he sat down, clearly upset he had to stop kissing you. His hands needily went to your hips. You were quiet as you watched him for a moment. His face became even more red. He then watched as your hands went to the bow on your shirt that was holding it together. With a quick motion, you untied it, letting the shirt fall open before fully removing it from your upper body. Anakin's eyes widened as he was met with your breasts. While he was busy staring at your bare chest, you removed your pants. You were now almost fully naked in front of him, surprisingly not feeling shy at all. Clearly, that was an emotion only he felt—probably enough for the both of you. With a smirk, you tilted your head at him, showing him you didn't like the fact he was still fully clothed. With almost inhumane speed, he pulled his long black shirt over his head before removing his loose pants. His hands then started to grab his underwear, but you shook his head, making him stop.

,,Leave yours on" You ordered, and with a gulp, he nodded. Then you reached for his hands, guiding them to the last piece of clothing on your body. Once they were on the soft fabric, you let go of him. His breathing was heavy as he looked up at you before looking down at your panties again. Almost painfully slowly, he pulled them down, and once they were fully down, you stepped out of them, tossing them away with your foot. The way he couldn't control where he was looking made you smile. You reached to cup his face before making out with him again. Then you got on top of him, placing both your legs on his sides and holding yourself up so you wouldn't yet fully sit on him. His upper body laid down on your bed. You had full control over the make out as his hands went once again to your hips. Before they could reach any lower, you broke the kiss, looking at him with a smirk. You finally lowered yourself onto him, teasing his hard cock over his underwear with your pussy. His eyes shot closed as his fingers dug into your skin. You bit your lower lip at the sight of him under you before slowly rocking your hips on his cock. You teased him like that for a short moment before a needy whine escaped his lips.

,,What's wrong, pretty boy?" You teased him as your hands danced on his chest. He opened his eyes to look at you. He looked almost in pain.

,,Master..." He said shyly, and you tilted your head. You continued rocking your hips, waiting for him to speak. He was too shy to tell you what he wanted, and he hoped you would just do it. But where's the fun in that?

,,Tell me what you want" You ordered before reaching to hiss his abs, which made you lift your lower body, taking away the pleasure you were causing him. With a disagreeing moan, he made you stop kissing his body.

,,I want- I want you to make me feel good, master" He said before he closed his eyes with embarrassment. You purred your lips at how cute he was.

,,And how would you want me to do that?" You teased, enjoying his suffering maybe a bit too much. He whined again, but you just waited, not touching him anywhere. He fought so hard to tell you.

,,I want you to r-ride me, please" He said quickly, and a smile took over your whole face. You were so proud of him, ready to reward him for being such a good boy.

,,Since you asked so nicely" You responded, before lowering his underwear and freeing his cock. After that, you sat on it again, wetting it with your wet folds. You weren't doing anything too crazy, and he was already a moaning mess. You were planning on playing with him like this for longer, but you felt your own neediness taking over. After that, you lifted yourself up on your knees while grabbing his cock. You lined his tip with your hole before slowly pushing yourself down again. You stopped moving when his tip was inside of you, making sure everything was okay and nothing hurt him. His fingers were still digging into your hips, but you knew that was because of the pleasure he was feeling. His thigh muscles were flexed as his eyes were closed. He was so overwhelmed with pleasure, and you weren't even fully sitting on him. After a while of you not moving, his hands pushed you lower on his cock, which made you moan unexpectedly, causing him to moan as well. You then fully sat down on him, throwing your head back. His cock was buried deep inside of you, stretching you out nicely.

,,You feel so good" He whispered with his eyes still closed. You moaned at his comment, focusing on steadying your breathing. Your hands then found his on your hips, and you grabbed them before lifting yourself up on his cock. You shifted your body weight onto his arms before you started to actually ride him. You started slowly before adding speed.

His eyebrows were scrunched together, and you slowed down a bit. ,,Are you okay?" You asked, worrying, but he quickly nodded his head, lifting his hips, pushing his cock back inside of you. You closed your eyes as you sped up again, fucking yourself on him. You fought hard to keep your eyes open, wanting or actually needing to see his face. Sweat was building up on his forehead, his chest was moving with his deep breaths, and his bottom lip was stuck in between his teeth. His needy whines filling your room were the nicest sound you've ever heard.

,,M-Master can I ple-please cum inside of you?" He struggled so hard due to the fact that his constant moans didn't allow him to speak.

,,You want me to fuck the cum out of you?" You asked with a husky voice, and he let out almost an animalistic sound. His hips started to meet yours halfway, causing the both of you even more pleasure.

,,Yes, please" He begged, and tears of pleasure filled your eyes as he hit the right spot again and again. He opened his eyes as he felt you shift even more of your body weight onto his arms. Your eyes were closed, and he almost came by looking at you. He couldn't believe he was the one making you feel this good.

,,Am I doing good?" He whispered, and you didn't bother to open your eyes. You realized how hard it must have been for him to talk, since it was the same for you now.

,,So good" You answered him, and he nodded his head more for himself than you before focusing on thrusting into you. Your hands left his, and instead you put them on his chest, which made you move more freely. You felt your high closing on you, but you pushed it away, wanting him to cum first. That didn't take too long. His muscles tensed even more, and his toes curled up as he came inside of you with loud moans. You slow down a little bit, letting him hold you as hard as he wanted. He looked almost like he was in pain. His breathing was even heavier, but his muscles started to loosen up a bit. After a while, he opened his eyes, and you looked up at him. His eyes then traveled to his cock still inside of you, realizing you haven't came yet. His hands held you in one place as his hips started fucking back into you. A wave of pleasure filling you again.

,,Tell me if it gets too much for you" You told him before another moan took over you, not wanting him to get too overstimulated. He hasn't answered you; instead, he sped up more.

,,Anakin" You cried out as your high made its presence known again. The feeling was building up in your stomach faster and faster every second. Anakin was mesmerized by your face filled with pleasure, and he swore he would do anything to make you feel like this again. Your hands shot to his stomach to hold yourself more as the feeling you'd been chasing exploded deep inside your stomach. Anakin slowed his thrusts as he watched you enjoy your orgasm. Your whole body was filled with unspeakable warmth. Your legs shook as you started to come back to reality. By then, Anakin had stopped moving completely. With a deep breath, you opened your eyes to be met with his. You pushed yourself up on your jelly knees, so you could get down from him. He whined as he no longer felt you around him. Your body hit your soft bed as you laid next to him. He sat up, moving further away from you. You wanted to ask him where he was going, but you stopped as he grabbed your thigh and moved it away from the other one, spreading you out. He then pushed your folds apart, watching his cum slowly spill out of you. The sight made you want to fuck him again right away. He took his time watching your abused pussy before forcing himself to get back to you. He laid next to you, grabbing the blanket that was folded at the end of the bed. Then he placed it over the two of you, and you put your head on his chest. You knew you should go take a shower, but the warmth his body was giving you was just too addicting. His hand hugged you, lovingly pushing you closer to him.

#anakin skywalker smut #anakin skywalker x reader #anakin skywalker x you #anakin smut #anakin x reader #anakin x you #star wars smut #anakin fic #anakin x y/n #anakin skywalker

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ki-yomii · 1 year ago

Text

careful | jjk

➥ pairing | jeon jungkook x f!reader ➥ word count | 2.2k ➥ warning(s) | 🔞 smut; dom!jk, sub!reader, dirty talk, mild dom/sub dynamics, orgasm control/edging, slight brat kink, slight brat tamer!jk, pet names, degradation kink, praise kink, mild dacryphilia, finger fucking, sub drop, pussy smacking, wet & messy ➥ summary | you should always be careful what you ask for ➥ notes | what's that - posting a fic that isn't any of my wips/requests? more likely than you think 🥲

i started writing today with the intent to work on my vampire jk fic cuz spooky season. instead, i found myself here... i'm sorry 💀

also i’ve seen enough run episodes to know you don’t want jk’s hands smacking you anywhere 😬

🩷 masterlist | inbox | AO3 🩷

“Look at me, baby.”

The low warning cuts through your muffled whines, Jungkook’s weight pinning you to the wall. Thick fingers grind deep inside your cunt, digging into your g-spot mercilessly.

Pressure builds behind your hips, borderline painful as you shift around in a vain attempt to dislodge him.

“Don’t make me repeat myself,” he says, “You know better.”

Whenever Jungkook speaks, his voice scrapes down your spine, low and whiskey rough. His chest is a long line of heat, plastered to your front from stem to stern.

The rapid gallop of his heartbeat echoes your own rabbit-fast rhythm, the scent of his cologne clogging your nose and clouding your thoughts.

He bites out your name, the palm shackling your hands above your head squeezing your wrist. Blunt nails dig into the delicate skin of your pulse point.

A silent prompt you know better than to ignore. And yet, the temptation to do so is almost too much.

Keen awareness roots low in your belly, dripping down between your thighs like candle wax. Your thighs tense with the strain of controlling the involuntary drop of your hips; the urge to rock down into his touch choking the breath from your lungs.

“I…”

The instinct to comply is almost Pavlovian. After all, you’re Jungkook’s good girl, aren’t you? Loved and fucked and trained to his liking.

(But how can you be good when he looks at you like that? It’s just not fair.)

Being good all the time is boring.

No. Your mouth snaps shut, and any response you have turns to ash on your tongue. The words catch on the backs of your teeth like candy. Not this time.

“Why are you being like this, huh?” Jungkook’s brows shoot towards his hairline, his dark head ducking to try and catch your eye. “I know I taught you better.”

How could you ever forget the rules when he’s fucked them into you so thoroughly? Took you apart piece by piece only to stitch you back together in his image - his precious little darling made to take his cock and swallow his cum.

“You really don’t wanna play this game with me right now. Trust me.”

Breath lodging somewhere in the middle of your throat, and tasting suspiciously of regret, you shake your head and dig your heels in. Resist the urge to crumble at his feet, beg for forgiveness with your mouth, your hands.

It’s already too late to back out - it’ll just be worse for you if you do.

Jungkook might hide his less… savory traits better than most, but you’ve experienced his greedy kisses firsthand, felt the tug of his teeth and tasted the salt of his skin. Heard his ragged moans honey sweet in your ear, felt the harsh grind of his body along yours.

When he smiles, it’s wicked, "Last chance. Show me those pretty eyes of yours, baby.”

Anticipation hooks behind your navel, stomach swooping as heat curls up in the valley of your hips. Blood rushes in your ears, starting as a slow thrum that crescendos into a rapid drum. Your heart tattoos itself into your ribs.

Licking your lips, your refusal shudders from you in a throaty rush, “No.”

A low hum fills the following silence, noncommittal. The mounting tension threatens to strangle you, sets your teeth on edge. Sparse hairs at the nape of your neck prickle.

And then, before you have time to consider taking it all back, plush lips ghost over the hollow below your ear. Whisps of dark hair whisper over your skin, soft and ticklish. Shivers race down your spine, spread through your fingers and toes.

“Alright, have it your way,” Jungkook smothers his words in the tender slope of your neck, “but remember: you asked for it. Don’t come crying to me afterward.”

Readjusting, Jungkook’s broad shoulders curve forward and the slackened hand on your wrists renews its grip. The cold tip of his nose traces along your jaw, inhaling the perfume of your silken skin.

An exhale shudders from him in a vulgar husk of breath. When you clench around his fingers still buried inside you, he laughs low and mocking.

“Damn, baby, your pussy’s just sucking me in. You really wanna cum that bad?” Kisses pepper up the side of your face, skirting the side of your mouth. “Heh, yeah, I know you do - such a dirty little slut.”

“Oh!” You sigh, sparks sizzling through your limbs, as Jungkook flexes his fingertips playfully against your swollen g-spot. Your hips tilt into the touch. “Hah…”

“That feel good, huh?”

A low keen escapes when he draws your earlobe into the moist heat of his mouth, his lips clamping down while the sharp points of his canines roll the tender fat. Little kisses of pain burn, brighten the arousal blooming deep within you.

“Yeah, of course it does,” Jungkook breathes, his voice low and husky in your ear as he strokes at your fluttering walls. “Just look at you.”

Unable to swallow the broken gasp of his name when he hits your favourite spot at the right angle, you tremble against his chest from where you’re pinned and squeeze your eyes shut, “J-Jung--!”

Holding up your own weight on weak knees is an endurance sport - one you’re losing as they bow and shake, threaten to give out. At the same time, your arms feel like lead, going numb from having them suspended over your head for so long.

Head light and floaty, your nails bite into the backs of his hands as a sharp spike of pleasure slices through you. “I’m--”

“Gonna cum soon?” Jungkook asks, the devilish grin tugging at the corners of his sculpted mouth more a baring of teeth. “Don’t lie to me.”

At your frantic nod, he tugs his fingers free from the tight clutch of your body with a sloppy squelch. Slick oozes from your cunt in a sticky rush that wets your inner thighs, your gut clenching hard with hollow satisfaction as he rips the ebbing flow of your orgasm away without warning.

“Shit!”

The noise you make at their loss is low and wounded, tears brimming in the corners of your eyes. Your body locks up so hard your stomach aches, walls fluttering as a cramp knots up behind your hips.

Your swollen clit throbs with angry sparks of pain that make you whine and wince, orgasm thoroughly ruined.

“W-Why did you…” Voice cracking around a hiccupping sob, you pitch forward into his powerful chest. “Jungkook--”

“You know why.” His reply cuts you off, chilly and brusque, while he stares at you without remorse, “I gave you a chance to change your mind.”

“But I -”

“Stop.”

Sniffling, you peer at him from beneath damp lashes.

Breathless and feral, Jungkook stands before you a vengeful god, robed in shade and shadow. It’s criminally unfair how good he looks; jaw clenched, eyes twin black holes that threaten to pull you in.

Harsh, hooded, hungry as they trace over the tear tracks cutting lines down your cheeks, the quiver of your lips. In moments like this, he’s as beautiful as Belladonna and twice as deadly.

“I don’t know why you’re even trying to sweet talk your way out of this.”

If his glare alone wasn’t enough to curb your tongue, then the shuttered expression carved into the planes of his regal face would.

Displeasure sits heavy on his brow, tucked into the corners of his mouth like an ill-fitting mask. Then his hand is slipping between your shaking thighs once more, the backs of his knuckles dragging over your abused, messy folds.

Jungkook hums when you sigh, jolt at the touch, and says, “Now, shut up and be a good girl for me.”

It’s deliciously painful, like blowing on numb fingertips in winter. Your legs spread wider to accommodate him on instinct alone.

Head rolling back to rest against the wall, the cool stone heaven on your sweaty neck.

And then a strike, viper quick, lands on your exposed pussy. Your reprieve ripped away and smashed at your feet as the wet, sloppy sound of an open palm making contact with tender flesh almost drowns out your wounded cry.

“A-Ah!”

You flinch away from the touch, flickers of pain pulsing through your sensitive clit. Nerve endings burn with sensation. Tiny cavities pepper your field of vision, the world a blurry kaleidoscope of color through pooling tears.

It’s hard to think, harder to breathe through the lingering throb and mounting shock.

Jungkook didn’t hit you too hard (he knows your limits), though he may as well have with how hypersensitive your pussy is. And still, amid prickles of pain, fresh arousal gushes from you to soak the length of his palm.

Cooing, he says your name, his lips cradling the syllables like a precious secret as his hand rubs circles over your mound. “Are you finally going to listen to me?”

Air hisses through your teeth as his fingers dip into your entrance, and it’s all suddenly too much. You drop too far, too fast. Lost and left adrift. Small. Fragile.

Heart lurching in your chest, the bitter ache throbbing in time with your pulse. Reminding you of how empty you are.

Sobs drip from your lips like dew drops, unintelligible words frantic as they break through the great, heaving gasps, “J-Jungkook, I can’t… Please, ‘m sorr- I can’t.”

“Oh, baby. You look so pretty when you’re such a fucking mess.”

Your breath hitches.

It feels like your skin’s too small, stretched tight over your bones until you’re bursting at the seams. The slightest touch will make you shatter to pieces, scattered across the floor like shards of fine china.

Before you spiral too far beyond his reach, Jungkook guides you back, keeping his voice low and gentle in your ear while he shushes your warbling sniffles. Affection softens his smile, his eyes dark with perverse pride.

“Stop crying,” he chides tenderly, circling your clit with a ginger thumb. “You’re fine, promise. I’m here, I’ve got you.”

Kisses wick away the last of your tears, sweep over the delicate skin of your undereye.

“You did this to yourself.” Jungkook searches your eyes for confirmation, his brows furrowed and lips pursed. “You know that, don’t you?”

You nod, albeit stiltedly.

There are always consequences when you try to give him a taste of his own medicine - some worse than others. This time, you took things a little too far.

Now your cunt’s going to suffer the consequences of your stubbornness, but maybe if you butter him up beforehand…

The bob of his Adam’s apple captures your attention, your eyes tracing over the slope of his jaw, the tick of muscle as he grits his teeth.

Gnawing on your lip, you weigh your options.

You both know you hoped this would happen when you started acting bratty. Jungkook knows your dirty thoughts and filthy fantasies, how soaked you get from the thought of being pinned down, helpless.

Forced to take everything he gives.

… It isn’t even a question worth asking.

“Didn’t catch that.” Jungkook’s lips twitch with amusement, his fingers biting into the soft fat of your hip. “Come on, you’ve gotta use your words.”

The despair gripping your throat in a vice loosens with his lighthearted tone. Wetting your lips, you take the first step towards sparring yourself a brutal punishment by apologizing.

“I know it’s my fault - and I,” you swallow the flood of saliva pooling under your tongue, “I’m sorry.”

"Mm, apology accepted." Jungkook hums, tracing the seam of your puffy pussy. “I’m so lucky I’ve got such a good fucking girl all to myself.”

Heat sinks into the apples of your cheeks, your thighs clamping closed around his wrist. There’s no denying the needy twitch of your hips at his words. A pleased rumble vibrates through his chest and into yours.

“Yeah, you like when I call you a good girl, baby?”

You whine, your eyes rolling back and your lashes fluttering.

Heat pulses through your belly in rhythmic waves, the residual pleasure from your interrupted orgasm kindling to light with little effort. You’d been so close, your body still desperate for relief. Thoughts slow and syrupy, cunt soaked and sloppy.

“Jungkook, please - lemme cum.” You try to rock down on his fingers only for his hand to restrain your hips. ”Fuck! Promise I’ll be good this time - jus’ need to…”

He tsks, saying, “Shh, you can cum all you want.”

“Thank you, thank you, thank-”

“If,” his smile is knife sharp, his eyes full of mischief, his words honey sweet, “you keep your eyes open and on me the whole time.”

Oh.

Oh no.

You’ll be dumb and drooling, starry-eyed and stupid once he stuffs you full. The burning stretch of his fat cock buried balls deep in your gummy walls while the spongy head slams into your g-spot without mercy, your cunt milking his shaft with every gushing orgasm fucked out of you. His name a holy prayer on your tongue.

There’s no fucking way.

Jungkook knows you barely remember to breathe once he’s on top of you, let alone maintain eye contact. Your inevitable failure will taste all the sweeter when it fizzles, pops, bursts under the bite of his teeth.

“Wait, wait, wait!”

“Good luck, baby.”

Panic grips you by the throat, your eyes wide and pleading. “Jungkook-”

“You’re gonna need it.”

Well, shit.

#jungkook x reader #jungkook x you #jungkook fanfic #jungkook smut #jeon jungkook x you #jeon jungkook x reader #bts fanfic #jungkook #bts fanfction #jeon jungkook #jk #jeon jungkook fanfic #bts jungkook fanfic #jungkook imagine

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etherealising · 11 months ago

Note

happy happy 1k yay!! idk if you still write for jaime tartt BUT i love the thought of him being obsessed with someone who works in the building… maybe the team’s pt and he’s always in their office with a “sore” knee or something like that but only so he can hang out and flirt with them 😫

bestie…the scream i scrumpt when i saw you in my inbox requesting my writing i damn near cried!!! but also the jamie tartt brainrot you awoke in me is insane, i went through a whole series rewatch and now i have jamie tartt edits saved 🫣. i struggled a bit to capture jamie’s essence/personality but otherwise i hope you enjoy my love 🫶🏽

this whole time i thought your pfp was bagels only to realize its a bunny 🥲

wanna be yours

pairing(s): jamie tartt x gn!reader

summary: jamie’s “bum” knee is the perfect excuse to spend whatever free time he can with you. it also doesn’t hurt that you’re his favorite person to flirt with.

warning(s): none

wc: 2.9k

Quiet hums filled the treatment room as you maneuvered around the space organizing and restocking low supplies. Your ears perked up at footsteps moving closer to the room. A knock on the open door followed shortly after, “Give me a minute.”

“Surely I can give you more than a minute.” The sound of a familiar heavy Manchurian accent caused the corner of your lips to tick up, eyes glancing down at your watch to see that your daily visitor was right on time.

Turning, you looked up to find Jamie leaning in the doorway, arms crossed against his chest, a cheesy smile on his face as he looked at you. “What can I do for you, Jamie?”

In recent weeks Jamie made it his mission to stop by your office and if he wasn’t spending his free time in your office picking your brain, then he was complaining to you in the treatment room about a mysterious knee issue that magically disappeared after every visit to you but somehow always returned the next day. In the beginning, you thought there was something seriously wrong with him, and you were sure you would lose your job if Richmond lost their star player because you couldn’t figure out what was wrong but as time passed you began to enjoy his little visits.

“It's me knee,” Jamie’s lips turned down into a pout as he walked fully into the room. “It's feelin’ all funny again.”

You nodded your head trying to tamp down your smile as you gestured for him to take a seat on the treatment table before grabbing a bottle of BioFreeze and rolling the stool over with you to sit. “Have you been doing the stretches I gave you?”

Jamie reached for your free hand pulling you towards him. Small laughs left you at the rolling sensation before he stopped you in front of him, easily settling his foot between your legs on the stool. “Of course I do love, they make me think of ya.” His finger reached out to boop the tip of your nose, a smug smile washing over his face as your nose scrunched up from the touch.

It felt childish the way the butterflies in your stomach fluttered at Jamie’s silly little antics, but you ignored it knowing just how cheeky the man could be. The room was quiet for a minute as you began massaging the cooling gel into Jamie’s knee, “You know I saw you at practice today-,”

“Trainin’.” Jamie clicked his tongue smiling as you rolled your eyes.

“Anyway, your knee seemed to be fine out on the pitch.” You emphasized the final word smiling at the over-dramatic wink Jamie sent your way.

He gave a slight wince as you added more pressure to his knee, you weren’t sure if he was actually sore or if he was just trying to sell whatever this bit was. “Well yeah babe, I can’t let the lads see me sufferin’.” He moved to lean back resting on his elbows.

You nodded pretending to understand what went on in Jamie’s head. “Maybe but I think it might be time to let Roy and Beard in on this injury,” you paused, glancing up to see the humor drain from Jamie’s face. “Might have to sit out a few games until we get this under control you know? Maybe the whole season if we can’t figure out the underlying cause.”

The silence caused you to look up your hands continuing their massage as you watched Jamie’s face pale, whatever thoughts going on behind those pretty brown eyes didn’t seem too happy. You felt a bit bad about your joke, but before you could clear the air, the sound of your name being shouted followed by the click of heels moving closer stole your attention.

“Oi sorry, didn’t realize you were busy, wow Jamie you look a bit ill everthin’ alright?” Keeley’s voice rang through the treatment room as she made her entrance, her petite frame eagerly hopping onto empty counter space.

You smiled at her as you finished up the ministrations on Jamie’s knee, “Oh you know he’s just coming to terms that this injury might be career-ending.” You looked up at Jamie waiting to see if he’d break. It took a couple of visits for you to finally clock that there wasn’t anything wrong with Jamie’s knee aside from his muscles needing their usual massage but other than that his visits were just periodic at this point.

“It breaks my heart to know ya don’t believe me?” Jamie’s voice was incredulous as he spoke, his foot lightly tapped your thigh where it still sat a small smirk playing on his lips.

Keeley was quiet as she watched the exchange between the two of you. A cheeky smile of her own decorated her face. For all the years she’d known Jamie she hadn’t seen him quite as smitten as he was with you. When you first expressed concern about Jamie’s constant visits and the stress you were under trying to diagnose his injury she was worried for the both of you, you for how overwhelmed you seemed, and Jamie for his mysterious knee injury. But then there were the few times she’d been with you when Jamie would pop into your office, at first she thought the two of you were just good friends but as she paid attention to Jamie’s flirtatious words and most times unnecessary touches she realized it was something more on Jamie’s end and slowly began piecing it all together, and what kind of friend would she be to the both of you if she didn’t move this train along.

“Oh! Well sorry to hear about your career Jamie, but I was just poppin’ in to steal our favorite doctor, we’ve got a shopping date!” Keeley bounced on the countertop excitement racing through her.

Jamie sat up at Keeley’s words, obviously interested in the turn of the conversation, “Awe Granddad takin’ you on a date?” He was the only one to laugh at his joke, your stern look caused his chuckles to quiet down.

Keeley rolled her eyes before finding Jamie’s, “No, it's for the gala. I talked Richmond’s favorite PT into making an appearance this year!” Her smile brightened as she stared directly into Jamie’s eyes though her question was directed at you, “Have you found a plus one yet?”

You tried not to cringe at Keeley’s words, as excited as you were about finally attending one of Richmond’s annual charity galas Keeley wouldn’t take no for an answer when you explained you were fine attending the event solo. You stood from the stool moving to return the gel back to its place and wash your hands.

“Why bring a guest when I could potentially arrive solo and leave with a lovely companion.” You turned to face both of them, a small smirk lining your lips as you wiggled your eyebrows suggestively.

Jamie’s disgusted scoff was drowned out by Keeley’s excited squeal; the woman catapulted off the countertop excitement radiating off of her as she jumped up and down and clapped excitedly. “You cheeky little shit I love it! Oh, ohh are we thinking a sleazy footballer or emotionally unavailable millionaire donating for a tax write-off?”

You laughed, Jamie’s disgusted scoff turned into a disgusted look as his eyes bounced between the two of you. “I dunno Dani is kinda top of my list, if that doesn’t work out I guess we’ll go from there.” It was subtle but you watched the way Keeley’s eyes flashed to Jamie before landing back on you giving a thumbs up.

“Rojas?” Jamie’s voice was incredulous as he looked at you, “He’s not even monogamous!” The disbelief on his face was palpable, eyes wide.

Keeley watched as you made your way over to Jamie patting his thigh before settling back on the stool, his hands fell to the sides of the stool spinning you around before pulling the wheeled chair as close to the table as possible his body bowing forward as his chin came to settle atop your head. Keeley felt physically ill as she tamped down the excitement trying to claw its way out of her body; the urge to squeal grew tenfold as she watched you move your head to rest against his shoulder, eyes staring up at Jamie as the man smiled down at you.

“Who said I was monogamous? It's good to try things at least once.” The movement of you shrugging moved Jamie’s arms that were settled around your shoulders, his smile transforming into a frown.

A scoff let him as one of his hands moved up to flick the tip of your nose “M’ just sayin’ I’d never need another if I had you.” You gave Jamie an exasperated look at his words if the man kept up this flirtatious banter you’d never know how to deal with mediocre men again.

Keeley covered her excited squeal with a false cough, “Shoot, I’ve uh gotta talk with Rebecca about some marketing things, you’ll be fine if we go shopping later right?” Keeley smiled eager to leave the two of you alone.

It took you a minute to look away from Jamie and find Keeley’s eyes sending her a warm understanding smile, “Of course, oh invite Rebecca yeah?”

Keeley nodded her head sending you a bright smile before looking at Jamie raising her eyebrows slightly silently trying to tell him to make his move. She refrained from rolling her eyes as the man wiggled his eyebrows back to her, any hope of him doing this on his own slowly dwindling.

You waved the woman off as she left before turning in Jamie’s arms and giving him a serious look, “So, you wanna tell me what’s going on with you?” Your fingers began unconsciously playing with the hem of his shorts eyes peering into his with concern. “I can’t help you if you’re not honest with me Jamie.”

“Ahh don’t worry your pretty little head.” His hand moved to gently tap two fingers against your forehead, “A little knee pain can’t keep me down, I’m Jamie fuckin’ Tartt.” A smug smile took over his face, a quiet laugh escaped him at the way you rolled your eyes.

You stared at him for a moment longer eyes tracing his face before landing on his smile, the urge to give him a smile of your own crept up on you. “Well, Jamie Tartt is there anything else I can help you with?”

“Mmm dunno love, kinda just like buggin’ ya.” You laughed as his hand reached for yours, admiring the few rings that decorated your fingers. “Feel like I make ya all nervous, it's a bit adorable.” He smiled widely up at you shamelessly lacing his fingers with yours.

It felt as though your brain short-circuited for a moment, you weren’t sure when the two of you became all touchy-feely and you hardly minded it, but this felt a bit too intimate as he smiled up at you, the palm of his hand fitted perfectly to yours.

“If we’re done here I have to go add this little visit to your medical file and maybe stop by the coach's office.” You stood up with a slight huff removing your hand from Jamie’s grip, foot gently pushing the rolling stool into the corner, “Make sure to close the door when you leave please, and try not to let a little knee pain ruin the rest of the great Jamie fuckin’ Tartt’s day.” There was a slight teasing undertone in your words as you gave him a gentle pat on the shoulder before taking your leave, needing a bit of space to figure out the thoughts running through your head.

Jamie sat still atop the treatment table, a small smile lining his lips as he watched you walk away. The tingling sensation your soft hand left behind in his made him feel like a giddy teenager all over again as he stood to take his leave.

You quickly finished updating the last medical file for the evening, checking the time on the phone to make sure you could stop at home for a shower before meeting Keeley and Rebecca for your shopping date. Moving around your office you gathered your few belongings before turning to head home, surprise jolted through you as you looked up to see Jamie standing in the doorway hand poised to knock.

“Didn’t mean to scare ya, just wanted to see if you wanted to walk to the car park together?” Jamie raised his hands in innocence, he was changed out of his practice gear just as ready to retire for the day as you were.

“Yeah, I’d like that.” You gave him a small smile trying to get your slightly erratic breathing under control as you grabbed your keys off the desk.

It was silent between the two of you as you exited your office, Jamie moving out of your way opting to lean against the wall as he watched you lock everything up. Thinking back to his words it wasn’t that Jamie made you nervous, he made you confused he was a flirtatious man by nature and while you didn’t mind the banter between the two of you and willfully fed into it, you were a bit wary of catching feelings for a man who was so secure in himself. Pair that with his profession and the lifestyle he lived you weren’t sure if this was just all fun and games between friends or something more.

“Can I ask you somethin’?” Jamie bumped his shoulder against yours as the two of you began your journey, not finding any reason to move out of your personal space as you nodded in assent. “Is Rojas really top of your list?”

You let out a surprised laugh expecting the question to be anything but that, giving yourself a moment to think on the answer as you bid goodbye to the few people the two of you walked past. “I don’t actually have a list Jamie,” you paused, giving him a quiet thank you as he opened the door for you to exit. “But I don’t know, Dani seems like the easiest person to have a fun night with and then continue being my colleague like nothing happened.”

Jamie hummed at your words, the two of you stopping beside your car and leaning against it. “This may be a bit forward, but I for one think it’d be a true shame to only spend one night with you.” His eyes locked on yours, there was no sign of his signature smirk making an appearance as it usually did after one of his flirty remarks, his eyes were intense almost like he was staring through you, an underlying message hidden in their soft brown depths. The feel of his fingers reaching out to yours tickled in the cool evening air.

Being speechless sure wasn’t something you were used to, but as you stood in the carpark Jamie directly across from you his words lingering in the air, you weren’t sure there was anything you could say. His words held a heavy insinuation and you didn’t think you were brave enough at the moment to find out their actual meaning.

Your mouth opened and closed unsure of what to say, your brain not even close to doing its job properly. Jamie smiled as he watched you, fingers dancing across your palm as he took a step forward his free hand raised the forefinger of his knuckle tapped gently against your chin, “Like I said, a bit adorable.” He moved quicker than you could react, his fingers pinching your chin and turning your head slightly before his soft lips caressed the apple of your cheek.

“G’night Doc, I’ll do my stretches tonight and think of ya.” Jamie gave you a cheeky smile and wink before turning and making his way to his car.

The urge to scream was immediate as you watched him enter his car before getting into your own head falling against the steering wheel as you tried to balance the butterflies in your stomach with the confusion racing through your head.

Jamie sat in his car waiting for you to safely drive away. The large grin on his face wouldn’t be leaving him anytime soon, his days were always made better by making you smile with just his words. He watched as your car drove off, for a man with all the confidence in the world he wasn’t sure when he’d ever be ready enough to admit his feelings to you without making his words seem as though they were just flirty banter.

Jamie’s mind thought back to his first meeting with you all those years ago, you were one of the only people who wouldn’t put up with his arrogant attitude and now here he was all these years later hoping one day his cutesy words wouldn’t just be something you’d laugh off but instead believed in the same way you believed he was capable of being a better man.

a/n: y’all i love this man, down horrendous for this himbo.

#jamie tart x reader #jamie tartt fluff #jamie tartt x you #jamie tartt x y/n #jamie tartt fic #jamie tartt fanfiction

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nametakensff · 3 months ago

Note

if you are still taking prompts (and if you are not please feel free to ignore this!) my request is: Finger under nose + edge of a sneeze for ANY disco elysium char!

I am still taking prompts and was sooo happy to see this one in my inbox 💕 This ended up jussst under 3k (whoops) and features sneezing from H/arry, K/im, J/ean and J/udit because why not!!

The M/ajor C/rimes U/nit find themselves at a crime scene - in a Perfumery 😇

~~~~~

Content:

M/M, Mostly M sneezes but F mentioned, H/arry has a sneezing fetish, K/im is a kinky motherfucker, J/ean is suffering, allergic sneezes/sneezing induced by scents, sympathetic sneezes, rapid sneezes, mentions of hayfever sneezes, briefly mentioned inducing, masturbation, teeny mention of mild mess, spray, sneezing on someone's face, elements of domination/submission, verbal demands, sneeze denial, hold-backs, K/im manually holds back Harry's sneeze, some caretaking, some voyeurism

CW: Mentions of serial killings and bodies in typical crime fic fashion, nothing too graphic; K/im briefly holds H/arry in place by gripping his chin

NSFW - Minors DNI!

Harry had to admit, it was a pretty sweet deal this particular serial killer had scored. Having access to a Perfumery within which to conceal the stench of rotting corpses seemed like a stroke of genius. The killer, however, was anything but; after he’d filled the underground crawl space entirely, he’d deposited several bodies in the attic, giving the poor insulation expert who’d ventured up there that winter a veritable heart attack.

The discovery of these bodies was a huge deal. Firstly, the location of this Perfumery was one of the bougiest, most affluent streets in Le Jardin; the middle and upper-middle classes of Revachol were in near hysteria at the very suggestion that such abhorrent crimes had crossed over into their relative bubble of high society. Secondly, from the freshest corpses alone, victims were identified as missing person records spanning several much less affluent precincts. By the time Harry arrived en scene with Kim, Judit and Jean in tow, the Perfumery was bustling with cops from all over.

Several officers from the GRIH greeted Kim as he entered the building, pulling him into a quick conversation. Jean scanned the premises immediately, an intense look of concentration on his weathered face. The four of them were eager to see if any further information could assist in several of their own open cases of missing persons, and it seemed the other precincts had had a similar idea. What a number this guy has fucking done, Harry thought to himself. Fucking sicko. He watched as a body was carried out on a covered stretcher and swallowed the urge to cry.

They’d been the last to arrive, and as the morning stretched on and other officers confirmed all they could, they were soon on their way. It was just as well; there wasn’t an awful lot to glean here as the bodies were slowly taken away, and the main suspect was already in custody. The employees of the Perfumery seemed almost robotic in their answers as they were interviewed, no doubt out of partial trauma but also out of boredom; by the time the 41st Major Crimes Unit got to them, they must have repeated the same statements ad nauseum already.

“Well,” Harry started, turning to his squad after they’d excused the last shaking staff member, “I guess that’s all we can do for now. Let’s burn rubber, gentlemen and lady.”

“Finally.” Jean muttered, striding towards the door, looking even more irritated than usual. Harry tried to swallow like a normal person when he noticed Jean was ever-so subtly pressing the tip of one finger down on his philtrum, the way he had done countless other times in Harry’s presence when he was desperately holding back a sneeze or twenty.

The aforementioned interviews had been difficult not only for the depressing subject matter; several officers had sneezed throughout the day, evidently bothered by the florid scents of the converging perfumes. Being such a high-class establishment, however, there wasn’t an overwhelming deluge of conflicting scents; the smell was strong, sure, but not enough as to be unpleasant or overpowering, at least in theory. Even so, Harry had thought he might sneeze several times. He neither heard Jean nor Kim sneeze, though he had seen Jean’s shoulders trembling incriminatingly, and saw Kim tense into a raised fist out of the corner of his eye. He was beyond grateful when one cop with a particularly attention-seeking, cock-teasingly desperate sneeze finally left. He had been so close to getting a hard-on that having not gotten one, he felt pathetically proud of himself.

Judit and Jean climbed into the back of the MC as Harry sat shotgun. Kim expertly pulled out of the cluster of other police vehicles and started them back to the station.

“So,” Harry started, pretending as hard as he could that he hadn’t just heard Jean’s breath snagging in tell-tale irritation. “That’s two missing persons identified, straight off the bat. Which is fucking awful, but at least it’s something.”

“Yes,” Kim said, sounding grave. “I was hoping we would locate some of the missing individuals but now, given the situation…I just hope there aren’t more.”

Harry nodded, hearing Kim but also hearing the tiny, definitive little gasp Jean made behind him. He again tried to swallow quite normally.

“Would it be worth gathering the rest of the unit today rather than tomorrow morning for a briefing, Lieutenant?” Judit asked from the back seat.

“I think so.” Kim nodded, weaving in and out of traffic. “I think if we…”

Harry’s brain could no longer focus on work, not one little bit. Kim and Judit continued to talk, but all he could hear was the barely audible swallows of air and shuddering exhalations as Jean sneezed, over and over again.

“-Gk’t! Nndt! Hh-Gxt! Ngxt’u! Hh-“

“-get Officer Torson to-“

“-Dtch! Hh’Gxt!-Dssh! Hh’Tsh’u!!-“

“-all go over the files from-“

“Hh’TSch’u! Hp’Tssht! HAH-Tsch!!-Tshh!-TSCH’Ieww!! hH-“

“-do you think, Harry?”

Harry blinked. Fuck. Kim and Judit were waiting for his input. He opened his mouth, hoping that whatever came out was a more appropriate response than the simpering moan he had been repressing, when Jean saved him the effort with an uncharacteristically harsh sneeze.

“-IhgK’TSHHH’IEWww!! H’ohh…”

Harry’s fingers dug into his thighs, wrinkling the fabric of his bellbottom trousers. How the fuck was he supposed to think of anything other than stroking his cock, which was absolutely and entirely hard at this point, when Jean was sneezing like that? Like he had the biggest tickle of his life, like it was too big for his body to contain or purge with his ordinarily diminutive sneezes? Why did he have to sigh like that afterwards?! It was unfairly erotic. Judit and Kim’s simultaneous and emphatically concerned blessings in response only made things worse; his cock throbbed over the fuss.

“Fuck, sorry. I was in there for too long. I feel like shit.” Jean sniffled, sounding suddenly much rougher than any of them had expected him to. Harry ventured a glance at him in the rear-view mirror, really wishing he hadn’t when he took in the sight of his twitchy pink nose and equally pink, watery eyes. He was a picture of allergic misery. Harry scrunched his eyes shut as his cock gave an enthusiastic throb. When he opened them and glanced sidelong at Kim, Kim was peering right back at him. The second they made eye contact, the Lieutenant’s gaze flicked away, the ghost of a smirk on his lips. Bastard.

“Don’t apologise – you can’t help it.” Judit started. “I think we were all in there too long. Our uniforms are probably setting you off right now.”

Jean wasn’t able to respond, at least in words, because he’d started sneezing again. Harry felt giddy with arousal. It had been ages since he’d heard Jean sneeze like this – even when his hayfever was awful, he had prescription-strength antihistamines to ease the reaction. With nothing at all, he was a wreck.

“-DDtsh’u-NTt’shu-HGxtt!! HaHH’GXT’TShhuu-!! Fuck…”

All three of them blessed him again, Harry hoping at the very least Judit couldn’t make out the breathlessness in his voice. Only ten minutes until they were back at the precinct and Harry could fuck his own fist in one of several men’s bathrooms.

~~~~~

In the end, Judit had volunteered to drive Jean home. He was so allergic that it didn’t take much to convince him to take the rest of the day off; he was exhausted and completely disinterested in continuing to sneeze his brains out on display for the rest of the unit. Harry and Kim had gone to shower and change into spare clothes, realising they had become nose-blind to just how much they stank of perfume. It was enough that some of their fellow officers had actually recoiled, which Harry found entirely over dramatic given how many dead bodies they dealt with on the regular.

Harry ended up jerking off in the shower stall right next to Kim’s. It had been entirely too much, watching Jean’s head bob forward so helplessly, the perpetual agony of the tickle in his nose worn plainly across his face. Before she had left, Judit also sneezed, several feminine “Hahdt’Tsch’iew!”s that seemed to shock her and went straight to Harry’s interested dick. The final straw, however, was the unrepressed double that Kim let out beside him, right as Harry felt his orgasm starting to crest.

“Huhp’TISHHH’Ieww!! Hh-! HaHPT’TZSSsshh!!”

He groaned far more loudly than he had intended to. His cock pulsed in his hand, waves of pleasure flowing through him as he was mercilessly tipped over the edge. Sighing in relief, he fucked gently into his fist as he continued to streak the wall with the result of his orgasm. Kim’s shower turned off with an abrupt screech of the handle.

“I’ll see you shortly, Lieutenant-Yefreitor.”

Hearing the amused edge to Kim’s voice, Harry knew without a doubt that he had made himself sneeze on purpose. His cock twitched happily with a final tremor.

~~~~~~

Harry really thought he had escaped the Perfumery entirely unscathed – the shower and changing of clothes was more of a courtesy for everyone else. It soon became apparent, however, that rather than him having no reaction at all, it had merely been delayed.

“…IIIIESSSSSHHHhhtttt!!!”

He barrelled forward with it, raising an elbow a second too late and dappling the paperwork he was completing with moisture. He snuffled miserably, squeezing his itchy, red eyes shut. Even with the antihistamines Judit had brought him, courtesy of Gottlieb (Harry’s regular supply of store-bought antihistamines pilfered from Jean’s emergency stash gone, he was irritated to discover), he was getting little to no relief.

It wasn’t the worst thing in the world. The sneezes weren’t rapid, nor nonstop. But what they were was a tease. They would come and go, hitching his breath with a promising tickle before leaving him hanging, sinuses prickling. He’d been working on that most recent sneeze for well over ten minutes, which made it all the more embarrassing he’d been unable to cover.

The rest of the unit were giving him a predictably wide berth, but it didn’t stop the joking. That wasn’t all too much of an issue for Harry. Even this prolonged, slow-motion sneeze attack was bearable. What wasn’t was the sympathetic sneezes he kept triggering in Kim – a quirk he should have gotten used to by now but wasn’t sure he ever would.

He glanced over at Kim’s desk in time to see him sneezing into his wrist, pen barely pausing as he worked through the convulsions – only just audible, yet deliciously desperate to Harry’s keen ears.

“Hh’Ggkt’shu! Ngxt’shh! Hh’Nndt’shoo!! Ouf…”

Harry sniffled again, repressing the urge to cough as his inflamed sinuses prickled anew. Stupid Kim and his sexy sneezes and god-tier ability to ignore everything else in the pursuit of immaculate administrative duties. He hissed a little as squirming in his seat pressed the too-tight fabric around his crotch into his balls, hot and heavy and now incredibly strangled. With a resigned sigh, he leaned his forehead on crossed arms and closed his eyes.

~~~~~

“-Lieutenant. Harry?”

Harry lifted his head, consciousness returning to him after his entirely unintended nap, and saw Judit hovering over him with a kind, concerned expression. He barely had a moment to take in the fact that he had been drooling in his sleep when the bastard tickle had him gasping in preparation for another sneeze.

“HAAAH’GKXXTtt!!”

Oh, that had been close. Twisting to the side and biting down hard, last minute, had prevented him from sneezing all over her. She’d foreseen it, of course, and he needn’t have bothered with such a degree of contortion, but he was relieved nonetheless. Less relieved to discover that he was still sneezing even after waking up.

“Sorry, Minot. Do you need me?”

She shook her head and smiled softly at him, looking away politely as he started to scrub at his nose a little too enthusiastically with his handkerchief.

“Lieutenant Kitsuragi asked me to wake you and tell you he will be escorting you home.”

“Oh? But my paperw-“

Harry blinked. His files were gone, and his desk had been organised.

“Did Kim do this?” He asked incredulously.

“Yes.” Judit said, starting to walk away.

“Damn,” Harry muttered, shucking on his jacket and rising on stiff knees.

“It’s been a long day, Lieutenant. Lieutenant Kitsuragi is waiting for you in the garage, he said. See you tomorrow – feel better soon!” She called over her shoulder, gradually receding in what looked like quite a rush – which made perfect sense after he’d glanced sheepishly at the wall-affixed clock.

~~~~~

“…HHUHHHRESSSSSHHHhhh!!! Ugh, finally.”

Harry deflated after sneezing openly, enthusiastically into the air in front of him, sinking back into his couch cushions in relief. He idly rubbed his itchy, pinkened nostrils back and forth, grateful to be in his shitty apartment and away from judgemental coworkers.

“À tes souhaits.”

He heard Kim call from the kitchen. He listened intently for the sneezes that were sure to follow his own, disappointed only to catch the sigh that followed them.

“I hate when you hold them back in private.” Harry mumbled.

Kim laughed, walking into the living room with two mugs.

“You have no right to be making demands of me, not today.” He said, a cheeky smile crossing his face. He placed the mugs on a scruffy coffee table and sat next to Harry, reaching out to push a stray hair back from his forehead.

“How are you feeling?” He asked, cupping Harry’s cheek in his hand. Harry loved when Kim did that; it made him feel delicate and tiny in an entirely nice way.

“Fine. Itchy.” He said plainly, leaning into the touch. “Thank you, again, for doing all that. You’re an angel. Angel cop.” He murmured.

“It’s okay. I don’t mind a little writing.”

“Nerd.”

Kim grinned at him.

“Drink your tea.” He commanded, pulling away from Harry to reach for his own.

Harry was half-started reaching forward when another sneeze started to build. He paused and allowed himself to lean into it, irritated, semi-vocal snatches of air drawn out of him as he urged the tickle to culminate. He was sick of them taking so long. He just wanted the relief that only a huge, dramatic explosion would provide – if only for another 5 minutes or so.

He'd been so focused on sniffling and hitching his way through his build-up that he was startled by a sudden pressure under his nostrils. He opened his eyes as wide as he could – which wasn’t very, as he hovered right on the precipice of a sneeze – and took in the sight of Kim pressing an outstretched finger under his nose.

“K’hiim, what…?” He managed, breath wavering as the tickle lingered but did not swell, effectively wrangled into submission by the pressure on his philtrum.

“Don’t sneeze, detective. You need to learn some self-control.”

Harry blinked at him, unsure of whether to be affronted or aroused. Arousal always won with Kim, though, god damn him. Harry felt his cock twitch with renewed interest, shivering under Kim’s domineering gaze.

“But it ti’h!! Ti’hiiih’ckles-!”

“You can do it.” Kim stated, applying more pressure to Harry’s philtrum, barely even flinching as a droplet of clear mess rolled out of one nostril and onto his finger.

Harry was surprised when he managed, after several more dangerously close build-ups, to hold back the sneeze entirely. He exhaled in a near orgasmic sigh, glancing over at Kim under heavily lidded eyes. Kim removed his finger, wiping it on Harry’s shirt.

“Good man. Keep that up.” He said, reaching for his tea again.

Harry tried to – he really, honestly did. The absence of Kim’s finger and a poorly timed sniffle, however, meant he was bristling again almost immediately, the tickle so overwhelming he gasped hard enough that both he and Kim jumped at the sound. Immediately Kim was back in position, pressing his finger down hard and peering at Harry’s twisting pre-sneeze expression. This time he straddled his lap, and Harry reached out instinctively to grip his waist.

“What did I just say, Officer? Are you so eager to disobey me?”

Harry wanted to shake his head in dissent, wanted to hold back so badly, but it just tickled so much that even the pressure under his nose was useless. He couldn’t so much as utter a perfunctory warning before his helplessly crumpled features cinched tight, nostrils flared wide, and he sneezed all over himself and Kim.

“HAHH’EEEISHHHHHHhhh!! HIGGSHHUUUUuu!!!”

They felt incredible, great big spraying affairs, even more relieving having been fought back and denied. A pleasant wave of satisfaction washed over Harry in the aftermath, and his head fell back against the cushions, eyes closed in blissful surrender.

His eyes shot open as he felt Kim securely gripping his chin, squeezing fingers drenched with the result of those sneezes. He shuddered in anticipation, having a split second to take in Kim’s desperately cinching expression, cock lurching as he prepared for the inevitable. His eyes closed reflexively when Kim sneezed, unrestrained, spraying his face and neck thrice with delicate clouds of aerosol.

“Hupt’TISHHH’Uuu!! AhDD’TZzshieww!! Hh-! IhKG’TSCHHTtt!! Ohh.”

Harry blinked his eyes open, watching in giddy adoration as Kim used his free hand to rub at his nose, twitching nostrils squished side to side, audibly damp. He released Harry, slumping backwards and sitting on top of Harry’s lap, applying an unbelievably tantalising pressure that had Harry gasping softly and rutting against him.

“Well,” said Kim, shrugging as Harry looked expectantly at him. “It was worth a try.”

Harry lunged at him, drinking in Kim’s satisfied sigh as he pressed him back onto the couch. He figured now was as good a time as any to thank him for the paperwork.

#nametakenfic #d/isco e/lysium #sneeze fic #sneeze kink #snz fet #snz kink #snz fucker #snzblr #sneeze fucker

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tempvstas · 1 year ago

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Good Things Come To Those Who Wait

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Content Warning(s): some angst, leona being emo lol

Character(s): GN!Reader(no pronouns mentioned), Leona Kingscholar

Authors Notes: Hello all, I am not dead, just busy :] Life update, started uni so I've been busy with that, also, bit off more than I could chew so I burned out HARD. Genuinely lost motivation to write. But I do want to get back into the flow of writing. I'll try and fulfill requests(esp the ones sitting in my inbox, sorry to everyone who sent me requests before im not ignoring you i swear 💀) when I can but theres no guarantee. I wanna write what I can and what I want to and atm its Leona :]]. Please enjoy LMAO

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Leona couldn't remember the last time he had felt the warmth of another.

Moonlight filters through the open balcony of his room, a gentle breeze causing the curtains to sway slightly. He can feel your hands curled around his waist, his tail wrapped around your leg respectively. He stares at you, watching your chest rise and fall slowly, your soft snores seemingly filling up the room.

Silly Herbivore. He muses, brushing a stray strand of hair out of your face, tucking it behind your ear. You're so vulnerable, nestled against his chest. Wholeheartedly clinging onto him as if you were afraid he'd disappear. As he stares at you, he can't help the slight bitterness that wells up in his throat.

Why did you choose him out of everyone? Out of pity? He's never been good enough. The elders and servants back home made that quite obvious enough. He almost laughs out loud at the thought. He would never be good enough, would never be anyone's first choice, and would never put in enough effort because he was just too damn lazy.

A worthless, selfish, arrogant, too prideful for his own good, lazy, a good-for-nothing second prince who will never amount to anything.

Does he even deserve you?

Your slight movements startle him out of his thoughts as he stares down at you, blinking up at him with bleary eyes.

"Leona?" You mumble, rubbing your eyes. "Can't sleep? That's unusual," you tease him, shooting him a sleepy grin. Unwittingly, Leona feels the edges of his lips quirk up, "I was planning on it, until you started squirming around," he huffed. You study his face, a frown marring your features. Leona pokes your brow where it's creased, chuckling slightly, "Don't do that, your face will get stuck like that." You scowl at him, "I'm not a kid," you grumble, "Besides you have that look on your face and I'm worried about you."

Leona stares at you, an eyebrow raised, "Mind elaborating on what 'that look' means." You sit up so that you're face to face with him. "You know, that look! When you get all broody and emo, and all 'oh my sevens im so angsty grr'. That look." Leona wrinkles his nose at your wording, "Very funny Herbivore." You continue to stare at him, concern causes your brow to crease even more.

"Leona, what's wrong? I can tell something's up with you. I know you don't like opening up, and that's fine, but you know I'm here for you, right?" You reach over, taking his hand in yours and giving it a gentle squeeze. Leona's breath hitches in his throat for a second, he finds himself shutting his eyes for a moment. When he opens them again, he finds your gaze trained on his.

Not looking away from him, holding his gaze unwaveringly. Genuine sincerity in your eyes.

"Leona." His ears twitch at the sound of his name being called. Your voice is firm, to get his attention, but soft enough that he doesn't feel the urge to flinch away. He sighs, feeling that you wouldn't let this matter go easily.

"I know you are. If you want the truth, no I'm not fine." Leona grimaces, this feeling of opening himself up was foreign to him. "I'm far from fine. I'm just.....what did I do to deserve you?" His voice breaks a little at the last part, but he continues. "I'm worthless, selfish, arrogant, too prideful for my own good, lazy, a good-for-nothing second prince who will never amount to anything. Compared to Farena or that damned lizard Malleus, I'm nothing. I have nothing. I will never be anything more because I will always be overshadowed by people like them." He takes a second to collect his thoughts before continuing. "I've always had to work hard to earn my keep only for everything to crumble like sand. All my hard work amounting to nothing because someone just so happens to be lucky enough to just be better." His ears flatten against his head out of irritation.

You listen to his words, staying silent. You give him a moment to catch his breath before hesitantly reaching over, pressing a hand to his cheek. Leona flinches, but then leans into your touch after a brief second. "Hey...look at me," you nudge his face so that he's staring at you.

"Look, I will admit you can be selfish, hell sometimes kind of a dick. You irritate me and sometimes I want to strangle you cause you won't let me get to class on time because you won't get off me." You pause, before continuing, "But you are not worthless. And you're not a good-for-nothing second prince. I love you, faults and all. You, Leona Kingscholar, are the best damn thing that has ever happened to me okay? I would go to hell and back for your stinky ass." Leona laughs softly at your nickname for him, leaning more into your hand. "You are worthy. I didn't choose to love you because I felt pity for you, I love you because of who you are. You say that all your hard work crumbles to sand? I've seen you pick yourself back up again. You're passionate about what you're interested in, and even if you won't outwardly say it, I know you care. You're not a saint by any means, far from it. But that's what I love about you. You're flawed and imperfect, and I say that's better than some perfect curated image of who you're supposed to be." You poke his chest to emphasize your point.

"So don't you ever question why I love you okay?" Your thumb brushes over the scar over his left eye, pressing a soft kiss to his eyelid. His eyelashes tickle your face as you do so. "I love you, scars and all. And I'll say it as many times as I need to."

Leona stares at you, a mix of emotions in his gaze. He clears his throat, his tail tugging you closer to him. "Fuck...that was hot," he smirks, leaning in, his nose brushing against yours. "Seriously? I give you this long speech and thats what you have to say?" You roll your eyes playfully, smacking his shoulder lightly. Leona's laughter rumbles in his throat as a hand gently holds onto the back of your neck, pulling you in for a kiss. Despite his rough exterior, his kisses are gentle, his lips molding against yours. His other hand finds its way to your waist, holding you in place as you straddle his hips.

The two of you part for air, small gasps can be heard between you. You wrap your arms around his neck as you settle next to him, head nestled in his neck. Leona adjusts his position into a more comfortable one, his chin resting against the top of your head. The two of you lay in silence, the only audible sound being the occasional breeze that ruffles the curtains. Slowly you find yourself falling into the embrace of sleep.

"Herbivore?" You hear his voice above you. "Mhmm?" you mumble sleepily, feeling your eyes drooping.

"....I love you." You smile, hearing his words, before drifting off.

Ensuring that you're asleep, Leona leans over, kissing your forehead, watching your sleeping face. "....Thank you for being in my life.....and for not giving up on me," he whispers, before settling against you and drifting off himself.

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#twisted wonderland #twisted wonderland x reader #disney twisted wonderland #ashers writing #twisted wonderland imagines #twst x reader #disney twst #leona kingscholar #leona kingscholar x reader #leona kingscholar twisted wonderland #leona kingscholar x you #YALL DONT UNDERSTAND THE CHOKEHOLD THIS MAN HAS ON ME #I LOVE HIM SO FUCKING MUCH #IF HE WAS A CHEW TOY I WOULD THROW HIM AROUND(affectionate)#GRRR CURSE YOU LEONA KINGSCHOLAR #anyways im not dead guys hello #im so normal about him

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crescentofthegods · 1 year ago

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vena amoris

pairing: draco malfoy x slytherin!fem!zabini!reader

request: ok hello hello hello 😵‍💫 i have a request but only if u write for draco!! if not, please do ignore this.

i was kind of brain-rotting about this for a while now, so hear me out even if this might not be the best description ever. T__T

so, reader could be in the same house or not, this isn’t exactly a huge part of the plot. but draco has kind of been crushing on reader for a while, but reader keeps pushing him away—in a sense that they would keep denying draco’s attempts at wooing them, and would constantly reject anything he gets them (firm believer of draco's language being gift giving, at least one of them)

so clearly draco is like so whipped he grows so out of character and gets teased by his peers 😭 the ending is up to you, but i picture this as a fluffy (maybe the pushing away contributes to a bit of an angst factor) fourth or fifth year draco fic. your writing is so muah, by the way 🫂 much love, xx! ~ anon

word count: 5,269 words (woah)

warnings: FLUFF, reader is blaise's twin (slay), a shit ton of swearing (sorry), theodore nott smoking his iconic cigarettes, reader kissing draco at the end, not proofread!

author's note: IM SO BAD WITH WARNINGS SO PLS LMK IF I MISSED ANYTHING. i kind of included high valyrian (as in the language from game of thrones + house of the dragon) bc im currently in my asoiaf era so YEAH. also, anon, i'm sorry if i botched this, i kind of messed up the end but this has been sitting in my inbox for so long; I REALLY HOPE YOU ENJOY<3

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AS SNAPE DRONED on about Wit-Sharpening Potions and their advantages, you began fiddling with your silver bracelets, seeming to zone out of the lesson as the thought of dragons entered your mind. Your tongue licked your bottom lip rimmed with strawberry-flavoured gloss whilst you acted as if you were paying attention, flitting your eyes over to the back of Professor Snape’s greasy-haired head.

At this moment in time, you were bored out of your mind. There was nothing more riveting than the words of your historic fiction books, often containing stories about families with the blood of their dragons running through their veins. Instead, you were here in Potions class, preparing for your approaching OWLs, your chin resting in the palm of your hand as your eyelids fought to stay open. You did not even have the comforts of your twin brother, the well-revered Blaise Zabini, who had begun skipping class to see his “greatest love” (his words, not yours), Luna Lovegood. Others thought her to be a strange girl, especially because her mother was a powerful witch. Though Pandora Lestrange (who had never fitted in with her family) was known for her skills and her friendship with Regulus Black, she married Xenophilius Lovegood, who was now the editor of the Quibbler. He was stranger than his daughter, and many students theorised that it was him who filled Luna’s head with such… Such bizarre assumptions.

You, much to one’s dismay, quite liked the fourth year. Luna was often correct with her words and had interesting stories about her mother, to whom you had admired dearly.

Thankfully, something had caught your gaze. Unfortunately, it seemed to be much worse than the lecture you were enduring. Your eyes widened at the sudden appearance of a paper sparrow, the bird flying around in the air as it landed in the palms of your hands. You pulled a face, glimpsing at the faces around the godforsaken dungeon before stopping at a particular platinum-haired, blue-eyed boy, gazing at you with a goofy grin as the confusion written on your face contorted into vast annoyance.

The boy you met eyes with was the one and only Draco Malfoy. Son of the ‘wonderful’ Lucius Malfoy and beautiful Narcissa Black, he would’ve been raised with privileged views about the wizarding world, uttering vile words against those ‘below’ him and his maniacal pureblood ancestry. Quite frankly, you had hated Malfoy ever since first year, regretting you had ever spoken to him because now…

Now he would not leave you be.

It had been five years since your first encounter. Draco had ensured that over the course of the half-decade, he’d never leave your holy presence. You could not, for the life of you, figure out what his obsession with you was about. Yes, you were pureblooded. Yes, you were Slytherin. Everything else about you did not, at all, reflect his persona.

Except, perhaps, his ever-repeating threats. The only difference between yours and his words against others was that you always had the will to act on them.

You were never one for affection. In the five years you’d been in this school, you hadn’t obtained a single crush. Kisses were shared in your fourth year with a Ravenclaw, but that was it. Your mother, the famed woman who had married seven husbands, but had died tragically and had left her with mounds of gold, had always taught you to not waste your time with boys in your academic years, for they were merely children. Instead, you should wish for a man, one like your father (who was also dead, but had died because of a disease when you and Blaise were young. Your mother still yearned for his presence daily).

You didn’t bother opening up the sparrow, knowing that it merely contained his one-hundredth love confession. What you did in reply was a little cruel, but you did not care. Instead, you crumpled the bird into a little ball right before him, seeing Draco’s expression crumble as you wore your signature sarcastic smile, throwing the paper ball behind you, huffing before looking back at Snape, who now had eyes on you.

“Miss Zabini,” Snape sounded out quietly, you realising that he had just witnessed you discard parchment across his floor. “Another brilliant display of Slytherin’s impeccable manners, I see,” he reprimanded, sarcasm encasing his tone as you refrained from correcting him. “Perhaps you’d like to continue this performance by littering the entire dungeon, just to make sure everyone is fully aware of your utter disregard for cleanliness and decorum.”

You pressed your lips together, hearing the quiet sniggers from other houses enter your ears as you exhaled through your nose, meeting Draco’s stare before glancing at Snape.

“I apologise, Professor,” you replied meekly, though not regretfully. Snape recognised this, but he did not say anymore, returning to what he said prior the supposed interruption.

Sighing to yourself after hearing another cry for your attention, you turned your head at the sudden ‘psst!’ from across the dungeon, the irises of your eyes growing dark as Draco shot you a wink. The sudden glint of his silver snake ring caught your eye, causing you to raise an eyebrow out of interest. Yet, you regained composure, tutting at his behaviour, staring at him no longer.

Draco Malfoy would be the death of you. The funniest thing of all was that he would not be delighted if such things ever came to be true.

In the corners of the Great Library, you sat alone, your eyes widened with amazement as you whispered the words of a foreign language unbeknownst to many, smiling as you began to uncover the secrets of your fictitious world. However, from across your table, Draco and his small band of friends (consisting of Theo, Blaise, and Pansy) sat with their own share of textbooks. They did not, of course, share the same interest as you did. Draco kept a watchful eye, his chin resting in the palms of his hands, the pupils of his blue eyes dilating into hearts as Theo and Pansy shared a disgusted look. They weren’t disgusted by you, but Draco’s continuous rants about you.

“Merlin, isn’t she gorgeous?” Draco murmured, practically drooling over the pages of some novel as Blaise snatched it from under him, shaking his head as he sighed.

“I know that. She is my sister,” Blaise grumbled, his knuckles resting on his forehead. He whispered into Theodore’s ear, extremely bothered. “I cannot take this love-sick nonsense any longer—”

“You aren’t very good at whispering,” Pansy mocked, twirling her quill as she leaned into her seat, smirking at the fact that Draco hadn’t heard a single word.

“You’re acting like you hadn’t been doing the same with Lovegood the last month,” Theo pointed out, matching Pansy’s smugness as Blaise rolled his eyes.

“I haven’t been following Luna around for the last five years!” Blaise retorted, leaning back in his seat as he watched Draco twist his ring around his finger.

“She was staring at my ring earlier. Should I give it to her?” Draco suggested, no one paying attention to him as Pansy piped up.

“Perhaps I would be a better match for [Y/N/N],” Pansy joked, getting a reaction out of both Draco and Blaise.

“NO!” They said simultaneously, causing Pansy to tsk as she rested her legs on the edge of the wooden table. Draco then stood up, taking in a deep breath as Blaise furrowed his eyebrows at him. He would have protested, but Draco had already sauntered off towards your desk.

“Balerion... Zȳhon perzys iksin hae zōbrie hae zȳhon ñelly, zȳhon tīkuni sīr rōvabona giez lenton sia ipradārin bē isse pōja sȳndor skori ziry rēbagon,” you read fluently, biting your bottom lip from smiling ever so widely as you read the Valyrian words with awe. Your necklace dangled from your neck, hitting the constant stripes of your loose, Slytherin tie as you looked up suddenly, hearing someone clear their throat.

“Merlin’s left fucking tit,” you seethed, snapping your book shut as you met the one and only Draco Lucius Malfoy with a hard gaze, pushing your novel away from the platinum-haired boy so it didn’t feel his stench.

“Hello, [Y/N],” Draco replied, his voice ten times softer than yours (was your tone ever gentle?) as you ran your hands through your hair.

“I do not understand why you keep bothering me—”

“A gift,” Draco interjected, aggravating you even more as he took out his left hand, removing his ring that bore a snake. You furrowed your eyebrows, realising that it was the same ring you had eyed earlier and you stood up abruptly, looking up at his towering figure.

“A-are you serious—?” you began, disbelieved.

“I know how much you like your accessories and this would look great with your Yule Ball dress—”

“I do not want the stupid ring and I’m not even going to the—”

“It would look better on you than on me—”

“Shut up,” you groaned, not understanding how gravely Draco felt for you as he became quiet almost immediately, almost like an obedient dog. You were a little surprised, but you feigned nonchalance. “Listen, I appreciate the offering, but I looked at it for not even ten seconds! That does not mean I actually want it, Malfoy.”

Draco remained silent, almost like he was contemplating her words as her chest heaved of simmered frustration. And then, he nodded, giving you a brief smile before turning around, heading towards the Library’s exit. You pulled another face, irritated beyond compare before stuffing your hands in the pockets of your robes.

That was until you felt a cold metal in the right one.

You pulled it out, cursing under your breath as your head cocked towards Draco’s friend group, where your brother also sat. Scoffing at Draco’s notion, your feet carried you to Blaise, where you slammed the ring on his table, causing Theodore to sit completely upright.

“Well, hello there, love—” Theodore began with his deep voice, only to be swatted on the head by Blaise.

“Blaise, I swear on Salazar’s grave, if you do not get Malfoy to leave me alone, I will feed your organs to our dead stepfather,” you hissed, leaning forward as Pansy bit her bottom lip, fighting the urge to grin.

“Which one?” Blaise remarked, his eyes still trained on his book as you snatched it out of his hands, giving him a warning look as he sighed. “Just accept the ring—”

“NO!” You yelled, leaving the ring on the table as you thudded the novel against its wood before Theodore, once again, jumped at the noise as you left, leaving a vexed Blaise, an exasperated Irma Pince (who had flinched at the sudden outburst, and Pansy), who seemed to be falling in love with you every second.

As the soles of your Doc Martens entered your Common Room the following week, you made your way over to the couch, rubbing your wrists because of the hair ties that had strangled them. Your gaze had been on them the entire time, so long that as soon as you looked up, a few stares were coming your way, wrinkling your eyebrows as you looked them up and down. It was natural for some Slytherins—mostly girls—to dislike you purely because of Blaise. Not your twin specifically, but they were jealous of the attention you received from his friends, Theodore and Draco. It was the same for Pansy, even though (as much as you admired her) she had been horrible to everyone she’s ever met.

In all respects, you were not rude. You just didn’t like talking with people. A totally understandable prospect, right?

Back to the situation at hand, you had just approached the couch, freezing when you saw the amount of people huddled around an object on the sofa. You tutted, weaving your way past, most likely stepping on someone’s toes. You only wanted to sit down and rest your feet.

“Salazar’s sakes, can you move—?!” You began to raise your voice, but your words quickly died down in your throat, noting the extremely large package resting on the velvet cushions of the emerald couch. You glanced at the girl beside you, recognising her to be Daphne Greengrass, who smiled slightly before handing you an envelope.

“It’s for you…” She nodded awkwardly, giving the box a glance before turning away from you. You looked at the envelope, seeing that the seal wax was in your favourite colour, the actual symbol being a dragon.

Curious, you opened it, your fingers lightly grazing the parchment as your eyes moved along the page, the cursive letters peaking your curiosity. There was a dry flower taped to the note and you picked it off with care, the corners of your mouth briefly curling when you saw your favourite rose, looking fresh.

‘Dearest [Y/N],

I hope this note finds you well. As the annual ball approaches, I wanted to extend an invitation to you. I've chosen a dress and jewellery set that I believe would compliment your elegance and beauty. Please consider it a gesture of goodwill, with no expectations or strings attached.

I wanted to offer this gift and extend an olive branch in the hope that we can enjoy a pleasant evening together, even if it's just as friends. If you still decide not to attend with me, I completely understand and respect your choice.

Wishing you happiness and looking forward to whatever the future holds for us, whether as friends or acquaintances.

Sincerely,

D.M.’

“How romantic,” Pansy’s voice suddenly appeared against your ear, a smirk tugging on her lips as she looked you up and down, seeing you eye the box with agitation. You cock your head to face her, your lips pressing together.

“Go away, Pans,” you mumbled, scrunching the note up as you shoved it in your pocket. You kept the rose, however, safely in your other pocket, too pretty to be destroyed. You picked up the box, throwing a look to whoever else that dared to gawk at you before descending up the staircase towards your dorm with a huff.

“Did she like it?” Draco’s voice suddenly boomed in Pansy’s ear as she jumped, pushing the blonde boy away, still gazing at where you had gone.

“She hasn’t even opened it, you twat,” Pansy retorted, walking past him as she made her way towards Theo, giving him a pleading look as he pulled the cigarette from between his lips.

“What?” He asked in a hushed voice, but immediately widened his eyes when Draco began nearing them. “Shit—”

“Did she like the rose?” Draco asked once more, his gaze becoming frantic as he looked at the stairwell. Theo pinched the bridge of his nose, stubbing out his cigarette as he tossed it aside.

“I mean, she kind of smiled—”

“She smiled?!” Draco guffawed, his lips curving into a wide grin as he sighed dreamily, sitting on the armchair beside Theo. Both Pansy and Theo shared another look as the short-haired girl sucked in a breath, forcing a smile on her lips.

“I wouldn’t say that, Draco. Like, she was a little flattered that someone knew her favourite flower—”

“Rose.”

“Flower,” Pansy repeated, feeling irked as she crossed her arms. “But the smile dropped as soon as she saw it was you who gave her the dress.”

“She smiled,” was all Draco said, gleeful as he leaned into his seat, staring at the ceiling as he began to daydream.

“Fucking hell,” Theo muttered, shaking his head as he ran a hand through his brown hair. “What are we gonna do with this kid?”

“You’ve got to be fucking shitting me.”

You had unwrapped the box. You had taken out the dress. You had taken out the jewellery, as well as the shoes and whatever else. You expected to hate everything in the gift box, predicting that you would’ve shredded the gown to pieces by now

But this guy had bought a dress so ethereal that it had suited all your tastes. You were satisfied with what was in front of you.

Donned with sequins, the dress was in a mermaid-cut style, which would’ve accentuated your curves perfectly. The bodice had a perfected pleated detailing on the waist, the gems glowing under the light of your room as your fingers itched to trail across the silk. The gown featured romantic puff sleeves which would line up your chest with a flattering square neckline. Overall, it was an airy dress that reached to the floor, creating a beautiful silhouette that would make you glow, the ivory satin of the dress increasing your beauty since it contrasted with your skin tone perfectly.

The jewellery was a whole different story. Draco had bought stones so expensive that you didn’t think you’d be able to wear them, the necklace could potentially weigh your neck down. The actual diamonds were in your favourite colour, but the crystals were silver and would rest above your cleavage excellently. There was also a matching ring with the same diamond.

Hesitantly, you reached for the ring, trying it on every finger. Shuddering, you raised your eyebrows, realising the ring would only fit on your actual ring finger. You scoffed, tossing the ring back into the box, disregarding the crème-coloured heels as you sat on the edge of your bed, head in your hands.

You were lost. This was too much. The dress was gorgeous. Simple, but exquisite. The jewellery was impeccable, and you wondered momentarily if these jewels actually belonged to the Malfoy family.

You turned your head, beginning to tug on your bottom lip with your teeth as you jigged your thighs up and down, at a crossroads. You couldn’t wear this and not go with Draco. That would just be downright cruel.

Damn, you began to think. Damn, damn, damn.

“Blaise.”

No response.

“I know you can hear me.”

No response.

“Your book is upside down.”

“I think the fuck not,” Blaise shot back, checking to see if Draco’s statement was correct. Blaise narrowed his eyes, closing them fleetingly as he jerked his head to the side, meeting the blue, wide-eyed boy’s face with exasperation.

“Stop asking me about my sister.”

“No.”

“Merlin’s fucking balls, Malfoy—”

“I just want to know if she’s going with me tonight. It’s been days since I’ve given her the dress! I haven’t gotten an answer!” Draco interjected, his hands clasped in front of him, almost as if he was begging Blaise. His best friend slumped in his seat, dropping his book onto the table before him as he placed his hands behind his head.

“I. Do. Not. Know,” Blaise reaffirmed, granting him a sarcastic smile, his eyes locking onto someone else as he let out a groan.

You had entered the study hall, eyes scanning the classroom before they landed on your twin brother. You sighed in relief, fiddling with your watch as you cursed, noting it was five minutes past six.

As you stood before Blaise, you made eye contact with Draco, curtly nodding at him as you cleared your throat.

“Where’s Pansy?” You asked quietly, looking around the room once again to see if she was there. Blaise shrugged, which didn’t help you at all. “What the fuck do you mean by that?”

“I don’t know.When will people stop asking me questions I don’t have the answer to?” Blaise questioned, causing you to roll your eyes before you fled, rushing down the hallways towards the dungeons.

Draco was staring at Blaise expectantly, his lips pressed together as he leaned forward. “Well?”

“End my life already,” he grumbled, closing his eyes. “She nodded at you. Which means she’s going.”

“With me?”

“No. Cormac McGlaggen.”

“WHAT—?!”

“SHUT UP.”

Meanwhile, you had found Pansy making out with some girl from Hufflepuff. Sighing, you pulled her away from the girl, causing the other to feel embarrassed as Pansy pulled your hands off her.

“What’s your problem?” Pansy muttered, fixing her hair as you threw her a look, smiling once you saw that the Hufflepuff had scurried off.

“I… need a favour,” you shrugged, smiling awkwardly as your lips thinned. She pulled a face, causing you to shove her shoulder.

“What is it, then?” You puffed your cheeks, looking around the hallway as you fiddled with your hands behind your back, wanting to pull out your hair.

“Needyoutodressmyhair,” you talked under your breath, causing Pansy to furrow her eyebrows as she crossed her arms.

“Eh?” You threw your head back, staring at the ceiling as you squeezed your eyes shut.

“I need you to dress my hair.”

A gasp escaped Pansy’s lips, her hands across her chest as she tilted her head, smiling mockingly as smiled at her back bitingly.

“Your first thought was me? Aw, [Y/N]!” Pansy waved you off, sighing contently, you having enough of her as you grabbed her wrist, dragging her away to your dorm.

You had waited until everyone else was gone to exit the Slytherin Common Room, already infected with nerves as you stepped carefully across the floor, slowly walking towards the Great Hall. Surprisingly, you had finished getting ready (with the help of Pansy and a lot of magic) in under two hours, leaving you enough time to make sure you didn’t trip on the way to the Yule Ball.

You didn’t know what Draco had worn, wanting to see what he looked like—only to make sure he didn’t make you look bad. Pansy had done your eye makeup since you didn’t know how, your friend going for a [Y/F/C] eyeshadow palette that winged your eyes. Your lip colour was as deep as the richest of raspberries from the Forbidden Forest. Your hair was in a braided crown, white daisies blooming in the tresses of your locks as the rest of your hair flowed down, the length ending at your middle-back. Large stones hung from your ears, matching with your necklace that felt heavy on your collarbone.

Heels clicking against the stone of the castle, you finally got to the staircase that led straight to the Great Hall. You gripped the wall anxiously, Draco’s ring on your right ring finger as you peeked around the corner, eyes softening (only slightly) once your eyes had landed on your date.

From what you could see, Draco looked as handsome as he always was—you’d never admit that to his face. Draco was dressed in a robe tuxedo, his dress shirt and bowtie the same ivory white like your gown. The buttons of his shirt sparkled under the flames of the torches in the hallway as he checked his watch, scratching his chin as he waited for you. He also wore a black cumberbund, to your astoundment, his robes as dark as the bewitched night sky in the Great Hall. Lastly, his signature snake ring, the one you refused to keep the other week in the Library, bore his middle finger on his right hand, which defined the veins in his hand as he flexed it.

Now or never, now or never, now or never, you repeated in your mind, silently stepping out of the shadows. Your heels clicked against the first step, causing Draco’s head to pick up. Your breath caught in your throat as you caught his gaze, your hands falling to your sides as you walked carefully down the staircase.

You tried so hard not to trip, but luckily for you, Draco seemed ready to catch you as he stood at the end of the stairs, catching your hand as you instinctively reached out for him. You thanked him with a small smile, steadying yourself on the ground floor as you looked up at him, his towering figure seeming to fit in with you perfectly.

“Sorry. Sort of took my time,” you mumbled, scratching the space behind your ear. Abruptly, the jewellery set Draco gifted you suddenly felt light, no longer itching your skin away as Draco’s touch warmed your hands, your fingers coincidentally on his vena amoris in his wrist—vein of love—that led to his ring finger and connected to the veins of his beating heart. You gulped, praying he didn’t know that as he smiled softly, his gloved thumb running over the palm of your right hand.

“‘s fine. I got you something,” Draco replied, catching you off guard as you hesitated, your mouth ajar.

“You’ve gotten me enough things, Malfoy,” you chuckled, averse. You didn’t want Draco to spend so much on you—must he insist on buying you things all the time?

Yet, as soon as you saw the final gift, your lips parted in astonishment, staring at the corsage that Draco had taken out of his pocket. You looked up at him, the peach of the rose pinned to the corsage gleaming at you as he watched your amazed face carefully, scanning it for confirmation before he slipped it onto your wrist. You gulped once again, your throat raw as you didn’t know what to say.

“You… you didn’t have to buy me a corsage,” you murmured quietly, staring at your painted toenails, refusing to meet his gaze as his hand moved to link your arms together.

“What kind of date would I be if I didn’t get you a corsage?” he responded gently, earning a cool blush from you, clearing your throat as you picked your head up, nodding.

Draco sensed that you didn’t want to talk anymore, noting the redness that appeared in your cheeks. He decided not to speak on it, knowing that you would probably glare him to the ground. Instead, he led you towards the Great Hall, the soft sound of organs and harps entering your ears as the corners of your lips turned upwards, entering the room with a heart rate that quickened every second.

A number of students (from fourth year and above) were in attendance. Yet, every single pair of eyes were on the pair of you. You gripped Draco’s arm tightly, glancing at him as he reciprocated, leading you to where your friend group stood. The first dance hadn’t happened yet.

“Merlin, bless your souls,” Pansy sighed, faking tears as she hung off Theo’s arm, causing you to roll your eyes.

“Fuck off,” you tutted, pressing your lips together. You eyed her appearance, relenting slightly as you mumbled. “You look pretty.”

“Thank you,” she retorted, winking at you as Blaise appeared with Luna. Luna widened her eyes in admiration, reaching out to touch your puff sleeves.

“You look beautiful, [Y/N]. Like a dove!” she complimented sweetly, Blaise nodding in agreement, but refusing to say anything. He smiled, glancing at Draco, who only had eyes for you.

“Thank you, Luna,” you smiled, the only real smile you had given today. “You looked gorgeous,” you added, raking your eyes over the light blue satin of her gown.

“Guys, the first song is going to start,” Theo announced, his arm around Pansy as he dragged her to the floor, the pair of them giggling to themselves, seeming to be a little tipsy. Blaise also kissed the back of Luna’s hand, pulling her along gently as they made their way towards the middle of the room.

You glanced at Draco, your smile still lingering as you looked at your feet.

“Would you do me the honour and grant me a dance, Miss Zabini?” Draco murmured, his tone soft as your tongue poked your cheek, utterly wordless.

“I might step on your toes,” you breathed, your voice quiet as his thumb brushed against your fingers.

“I won’t mind,” he replied, smiling as he took the lead, causing you to follow him to the middle of the hall. You looked around, copying everyone else’s movements as you wrapped your arms around his neck, staring up at him with uneasiness.

“Relax,” he whispered against your ear, your shoulders immediately losing their tenseness as his hands pressed against your hips, guiding you as your feet followed his, syncing to the slow song that played in the background as the lights dimmed. You gazed into his eyes, not wanting to stare at anyone else, aware that others were sending you looks.

“Why does every girl have to have a crush on you?” you questioned, your gaze dropping as you felt unease. Draco tutted, tilting your chin up as you swallowed imaginary air, shivering under the coldness of his glove.

“Thought you didn’t care about anyone else’s opinion,” he mused, causing you to give him a bored look.

“‘course I care. Just look at their patronising stares. It’s unnerving,” you grimaced, rolling back your shoulders as he twirled you around, his hands travelling up your waist as he picked you up, spinning you around whilst you gasped.

“I’m not looking at them. I’m looking at you,” Draco said softly, shrugging playfully as you scoffed lightly, feeling your cheeks warm once again. “You look stunning, [Y/N]. Absolutely stunning,” he whispered, his minty breath fanning against your face as your expression softened.

“Well, um, this is the gown you bought me,” you chuckled. You always felt weird whenever you accepted a compliment.

“It is,” he replied, his grin still tugging on his lips, “I may have picked out the gown, but it's you who makes it look so graceful… You are the definition of elegance, [Y/N] Zabini,” he whispered, a little breath escaping your lips as he brought you closer.

“I… I’ve hated you for so long,” you uttered, furrowing your eyebrows. “But you never gave up after the amount of times I’ve rejected you. Why?” Draco thought for a moment, taking in your delicate countenance.

“I don’t really know. I think I never gave up because I genuinely care about you. I saw something special in you, and I was willing to keep trying because I believe in us.” The entire time, Draco had kept true to his words, his voice fragile, as if he was going to break at any moment. He honestly could not believe that you had finally given him a chance.

You didn’t know what to say. You stared at him, disbelieved, tilting your head to the side as your expression faltered. And then, you knew what to do, your eyes flickering from his eyes, to his lips.

Hesitantly, you encaptured his lips with yours, your hands reaching up to his hair as Draco was taken by surprise, but kissed back nonetheless. You were never good with your words, but your actions always made up for it. Your noses touched as you mewled helplessly, allowing him to capture all of you as he smiled against your lips, almost wanting to scoop you up and take you out of here.

A flash suddenly caused you two to pull away, squinting your eyes as the pair of you turned to the side, letting go of each other as you stood there, mouth agape. Colin Creevey, a fourth year, had pictured your kiss with his rather massive camera, the younger kid smiling at the photo with satisfaction.

“Fucks sakes,” Draco grumbled at the fourth year as you picked up your dress, snatching the camera off Creevey with a stare so defiant, it could kill the Dark Lord himself.

“Hey—!”

“You people are not ruining tonight for me,” you snapped, knowing exactly who set this up, shooting Blaise and Theo a snarky smile before deleting the picture almost immediately, shoving the camera back into the boy’s arms before grasping one of Draco's fingers and leading him out of the floor, the Slytherin prince happily following behind you with an adoring smile across his lips.

The finger you just so happened to grab was his ring finger of his left hand. This very particular finger, as stated before, had a special sort of vein that growed throughout the body, stopping at the middle of Draco's heart—vena amoris.

Was it a coincidence that you took Draco's ring finger instead of his hand? I think not.

For he had fought his way into your heart for years, and now, you had entered his.

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