#it really charms me and I don’t know why
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kesujo · 2 days ago
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Chapter 14: Miss Not-So-Innocent - Part 1
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Previous chapter here. 8.4k words
“Hey, by the way, how’s it going with Tiffany?”
“Hm?”
Jessica showed up an hour or so after Parker had finished dinner. Seeing that she arrived in her pajamas, Parker was about to turn her away when she said she just wanted to hang out and was feeling a little lonely. He knew Hunter had to leave the state for an emergency for one of the hotels he was responsible for—a safety threat of some kind—leaving Jessica by herself for a few days now, so he shrugged and let her in. Fortunately, Jessica stayed true to her word, joining him in watching a volleyball match in the living room and doing nothing more.
In fact, with how much Parker’s been interacting with Jessica recently due to work, casual conversations in the office in which the subject of sex didn’t come up even in subtle, teasing jest were becoming more and more frequent. It was nice, even if Jessica had called him into her office the other day to coat his penis with some weird stuff while she kept it erect for a few minutes and refused to elaborate further afterwards. Otherwise, however, their conversations were … exceedingly normal. It’s only been a week, but having normal interactions with Jessica was a nice breath of fresh air. When she wasn’t dragging him to film pornos or dragging him into her office to be railed with her tits hanging out the windows, Jessica was a very charming, very likeable person. So, Parker’s guard slowly but surely dropped, to the point that he had pretty much forgotten that Jessica was sitting next to him on the couch until she posed the question.
“Pretty…” Parker racked his brain for any possible way he might’ve wronged Tiffany that would thus elicit the question from Jessica. Was it that kiss? But she didn’t seem to mind that much … was there anything else? Did he find some other way to mess up? “…good?”
Seeing Parker’s hesitation, Jessica laughed. “Relax, I’ve heard from Tiffany but want to hear from you too.”
Hearing that, Parker let out a sigh. “Yeah. Pretty good. I took her mini-golfing and then had seafood for dinner. It was a ton of fun, at least for me, but…”
“Hm?”
With how socially aware Jessica was, Parker was really hoping he wouldn’t have to spell it out for her. “Well … you know, how—what’d you hear about it from her?”
When Jessica stayed silent for a few seconds, Parker’s heart plummeted. Was it that bad?
“Do you want to know how Tiffany reacted to watching that porno we shot?”
Parker didn’t know what he thought Jessica said at first. He had to do a triple-take to fully understand it, and when he did, “Ti—” actually, was he hearing correctly? “—Tiffany?!”
“Hm?”
“You showed that to her?!”
Jessica met Parker’s bewilderment with a nonchalant smile. “Yeah. Don’t worry though, she loved it. You should’ve seen how red her face was.” In the back of Parker’s mind, he had to admit that the sight would’ve been really endearing. “But, I mean, it’s not like she doesn’t know we fuck on a regular basis.”
Parker groaned. Was that a good sign? What did Jessica’s answer even mean? “But … ah, but that’s … and she knows it was us?”
“Mhm.”
Parker’s mind was beginning to short circuit. The fact that Jessica was so jovial about this was a good thing, right? “And she knew it was us when she asked to see it?”
“Mmhm.”
“And … she really watched it, all the way through?”
“Yep.”
“And she … she liked it?”
Jessica laughed. “Yeah! Why are you asking me so many questions?”
“I mean … are you sure it was ok to show Tiffany something like that?”
“Well yeah, considering she was the one who insisted on watching it.”
Parker’s jaw dropped. “She—” if it wasn’t Jessica who was telling him this, he never in a million years would’ve believed it. Heck, even though it was Jessica, Parker was still unsure if he believed that. “—she wanted to watch it?”
“Yep. I know, I was surprised too.”
The adorable, wide-eyed Tiffany, who could barely say the words ‘sex’ or ‘fuck’ without turning beet red, who was hesitant to even ask for a goodbye kiss after their last date … that Tiffany asked to see a porno her best friend and said date featured in?
“I can see that you don’t believe me.”
“I mean, you can understand why, though.”
“Yeah. I teased Tiff about it for days.” There was laughter in Jessica’s voice, and a little bit within Parker himself, he couldn’t help but feel bad for her. “You know, you two are so darn cute together!” Unable to contain the excited schoolgirl inside her any longer, she let out a squeal so loud that Parker jumped. “I knew you’d be perfect for each other! You should’ve heard her squealing to me about how perfect you are after every single one of your dates!”
Hearing that put Parker a bit more at ease. “Well, glad to hear it. Just, go easy on her, alright?”
“Aw, worried about your girl?”
“She’s not—” Parker stopped, realizing Jessica wasn’t going to listen no matter how firmly he denied it.
“I mean, she pretty much is, right?”
“What?”
Jessica’s grin grew wider. “Come on, you don’t think Tiff didn’t fill me in on all the deets about your dates? How you got a discount at that restaurant for being a ‘really cute couple’, how you kissed her goodnight in front of her parents after that one date, and how that turned into an impromptu first meeting with them, and how they ended up adoring you?” Parker groaned. He could feel the tips of his ears turning redder by the second: he just wanted to smash his head into the couch’s armrest, but the rally going on in the volleyball match was too intense to turn his eyes away from.
“Jess—”
“Oh, and of course, on your most recent date, where you gave her a pad when she forgot to put extras in her purse?!” Parker was now convinced: the reason why Jessica was so giddy about Tiffany getting together with him was so that she could tease both of them relentlessly. Never mind what he thought before, about Jessica being incredibly likeable: she was the Devil herself. “I’ve heard from Tiff’s parents about male friends of hers they disapprove of. But to think you managed to charm them after kissing their daughter goodnight?! That’s almost unheard of! No, scratch that, that is absolutely unheard of!”
“Can you please stop?”
Jessica let out a giggle. “You and Tiff both, the way your voices get so quiet and your ears turn so red, are just too adorable.”
After a brief pause, Parker spoke back up. “So, you know how I only asked you twenty-two questions about Tiffany?” Jessica nodded. “I’m going to use one of them now.” Sensing the seriousness in his voice, the smile faded from her face. “Are you one-hundred-percent sure Tiffany is willing to have an open relationship?” This was the one hangup that was preventing Parker from asking Tiffany to be his girlfriend. Going out with Tiffany while fucking her best friend just felt wrong. Spending time with Tiffany, talking to her, just being around her made Parker feel like he was on cloud nine, but that thought lingering in the back of his mind prevented him from fully enjoying it. He wouldn’t put it past Tiffany to simply be too nice to acquiesce with an open relationship when she, in reality, wasn’t. Or maybe she even gaslit herself into believing that she was. “I mean, maybe you’re not the right person to ask, but…”
“Yeah … I know, right? A sweet, innocent, traditionalist girl like Tiffany? Especially after what she went through?” Parker didn’t respond, continuing to watch the match. Parker figured Jessica was talking about the troublesome experience Tiffany had with an ex, but seeing as how she kept her wording vague, he didn’t pry. “I’ve talked to her a lot about it, reassuring her I’d be willing to give up on my competition with Hunter in a heartbeat for her, but every time, she said that she’s sure about it.”
“I … I see.”
It set Parker’s mind at ease somewhat, but still didn’t fully clear up the muddiness in his mind about the topic. He would just have to talk to Tiffany about it.
“Have you two fucked since the first time?”
Parker snorted. “What—what are you asking all of the sudden?!”
Jessica just smiled. “So, that’s a no?”
“No! For your information, it’s already not normal to have had sex with someone before starting to date them.”
“That’s such a waste though, with how hot Tiff is and how much of a blast you two were having last time.” Parker’s face flushed a little at that memory. It was true that having sex with Tiffany was great, and he would be lying if he said that he never thought about it, but Parker prioritized taking the proper steps in their relationship first. He was thankful for Jessica for introducing them, but he didn’t need her to influence it with her salacious tendencies.
“It’ll happen when it happens.”
“That might be sooner than you think. I’m pretty sure Tiffany is—” the notification sound of a phone interrupted her, and when Jessica whipped hers out to check it, she got up. “—sorry, my friend just got here, she’s in the lobby. We were supposed to hang out, but do you mind if she comes here?”
No. No, no no no. He wasn’t going to get roped into this again. He didn’t care how unlikely it seemed that this friend of Jessica’s would want to have sex with him, he had gotten caught off guard too many times with thoughts like surely not or but this is too far-fetched or Jessica isn’t this insane to disregard that possibility.
“I wouldn’t want to intrude.”
“Oh, I’m sure she wouldn’t mind.”
“But she came to hang out with you, right?”
“I’m sure she’d love to meet you.”
What was Jessica doing here? Did this friend know about him for some reason? Sure, if Parker was visiting a friend, he wouldn’t mind meeting a friend of his friend’s, but saying he’d love to was stretching it a bit. Maybe this friend just liked meeting new people … otherwise, Parker couldn’t shake off the paranoid feeling that this was going where he feared it might be going. “I’m nothing special.”
“I beg to differ, you’re my husband’s best friend. Such a man is not ‘nothing special’.”
Parker sighed. He knew where this was going: they would go back and forth until Jessica made him feel guilty for refusing to accommodate this friend of hers. In fact, they didn’t even need to go back-and-forth much more, he was already starting to feel that guilt, but trying to disregard it to fend off his paranoia felt a moot task. “If she really wants to come over, then yeah, she can.”
“Great! I’ll be right back!”
In the few minutes Jessica took to retrieve her friend, Parker weighed the possibility that he would be roped into more shenanigans. If she was even able to rope Tiffany in, then what about her friends who were more like her? Parker didn’t really know many of Jessica’s friends, but from what little he heard about them from Tiffany, she was more so the odd-one-out than the normal one. Given, in that context, it seemed like Tiffany was joking, so all Parker could hope was that Tiffany was exaggerating a bit for comedic effect.
When a knock came at the door, Parker jumped out of his seat. “Coming!” Opening the door, he was greeted with the smiling visage of Jessica and one other, slightly shorter but truly breathtakingly beautiful woman. If Parker was tasked with the objective to sculpt the most aesthetically pleasing face he could imagine, this woman would’ve easily beaten the product of his imagination. Parker didn’t know what it was with Jessica and having the most attractive friends, but she was an almost mystical, ethereal beauty that he almost couldn’t believe existed in the real world. Her skin was fair, unblemished, and porcelain white; her hair jet black, silky smooth, stopping at her chest; the only thing that could be said about her was that her slim figure didn’t make way for many curves, but even that seemed to suit her pure, innocent visuals well. Above all else, though, was how well her facial features fit on her face: her eyes were large, her eyelashes long, her eyebrows perfectly trimmed, her nose slim and long, her lips full, her cheekbones protruding and her perfectly aligned teeth shining white against his apartment’s lights.
“Parker, this is Irene, a childhood f—…”
Jessica abruptly cut herself off, looking over at the other woman, who gave her an encouraging nod, emphatically interjecting, “Friend!”
“—friend of mine.”
“Hi!” The luminescent woman stepped in and embraced the significantly taller man in a hug, a gesture which momentarily caught him off guard. “Oh wow, you’re pretty tall.”
“Uh—” He had never met Irene before, so being introduced with such a friendly gesture stunned him for a brief second. “—yeah, sorry.”
“Oh, no need to apologize! It would probably be easy to tackle you, I would just have to duck a little and your arms would go right over my head!”
Parker let out an utterly bewildered chuckle. “Wh-What?”
“See?” Irene demonstrated by doing exactly what she said, ducking a little and wrapping her arms around his torso, planting her face against the bottom of his sternum. “It goes right over,” she said, tilting her head upwards to see Parker’s arms swiping at open air.
“Yeah … I guess it does…” Parker looked over at Jessica who was just looking at the two with a bemused smile. He shot her a confused glance, to which she replied with a shrug.
Irene released Parker, squatting down to pick up a package she had dropped to hug him. It was only then that Parker noticed it. “What’s that?”
“Oh, it’s just something Jessica asked me to pick up for her.”
“…Right, gotcha.” The vague answer reminded Parker of the hesitation with this entire ordeal, something that Irene’s effervescent introduction had caused him to forget. Did he really want to know what that package contained? Did he even care? Why didn’t they drop it off at Jessica’s place, which was right next door, first? None of these were questions he was going to get answers to anyway, so Parker just kept them to himself.
“Were you watching volleyball?”
“Yeah. Do you watch?”
“Nope!”
The answer, again, caught Parker off guard. With the amount of enthusiasm Irene asked the question, Parker figured she recognized the teams or at least had some degree of interest in the sport. “Oh.” Usually, Parker was able to carry a conversation better and more naturally. With Irene, he couldn’t even formulate a proper response in his mind.
“Oh—oh my gosh, they’re hitting that ball so fast! I can’t imagine intentionally letting that hit my own arms.”
Well, that was something to work with at least. “Yeah, those spikes can get up to sixty miles-per-hour.”
“Don’t you need to be tall to play volleyball?” Irene turned to face Parker. “You’re pretty tall, right? Have you ever played it?”
“Me? No, I just like to watch. I’m probably on the shorter side for volleyball players, honestly.”
Hearing that made Irene’s eyes bulge out of their sockets. “Really?! Wow … I probably wouldn’t even have to duck to tackle them.”
Another chuckle escaped Parker’s lips. “Why would you want to tackle them?”
“I don’t know. Isn’t it fun to tackle people sometimes?”
“I don’t…” Parker trailed off, completely unable to formulate a response. “…Jessica, how do you keep up with her?”
Jessica smiled. “I don’t. I just let her say whatever she wants.”
“Hm…”
Irene didn’t seem to mind, plopping down on the sofa and setting the package down next to her. “Oh wait, number nine is pretty hot, isn’t he?”
“Hm?” Jessica turned towards the TV screen, finding the player with the corresponding jersey. “Yeah, he is.”
“How tall is he? Do you know?”
Irene turned towards Parker, who could only shrug. “My guess is somewhere between six-two and six-five.”
“Holy … that’s a bit too tall, isn’t it? I mean, if someone’s that tall, would I even have to kneel to give him a blowjob?”
Parker let out a hacking cough. “Wha-What?”
“I mean, you’d probably have to bend down a little. Like, for Parker, I can still kneel and be level with his dick, but I need to pull it down a little while straining my neck up a little to compensate.”
“Oh, I see. But what if their penis isn’t as big? Then wouldn’t it be slightly harder to pull it down to the level of your face while kneeling?”
“Oh, that may be true…” What the hell kind of a conversation were they having? And why were they speaking about it so casually? And especially in front of someone else? “So I guess you’d have to squat or something.”
“Hmm … wouldn’t it be pretty hot to be riding one of their dicks while another one of them stuffed your mouth from above?” Jessica pondered it, not seeming to be very convinced of the idea. Parker, on the other hand, was still recovering from the whiplash from the stream of vulgar words coming out of the mouth of the woman with contrastingly angelic, pure visuals. “Or maybe they could spitroast you with your feet off the ground, or maybe even suspend you in midair while fucking you in both your pussy and your ass.”
“Hm … I’m pretty sure Hunter’s a little shorter than Parker, but the suspended spitroast idea sounds so hot…” Parker, no longer feeling comfortable with the conversation, slowly got up and off the couch, but before he could escape, Jessica grabbed ahold of his arm. “Where are you going?”
“Uh … bathroom?”
“Right there,” Jessica motioned towards Irene, who simply shot Parker a smile.
“What?”
“There’s your urinal,” she repeated, Irene opening her mouth in tandem.
Parker scoffed. “Wha-What are you even saying?”
“What she’s saying is that you’re free to use me like a toilet.”
Oh god, now there were two of them. He knew it—he knew it was a bad idea to let Jessica invite her friend into his apartment. Why was he so soft on her? “I’m not—” hearing Parker sigh caused the two to burst into a fit of giggles. “—you tw—what’s wrong with you, Jessica?”
“Huh? Were you about to ask Irene what’s wrong with her?”
“What?” Irene’s face took on an exaggerated look of offense. “How could you? All I did was offer my mouth as your urinal.”
“Like—” Even when there was one Jessica, Parker often found himself overwhelmed with how sexually and kinkily she spoke. “—I, like, I mean, you realize why that’s a really—” But now that there was a second one just as sexual and kinky, if not more so … how was he supposed to react? “—that’s, like, you know, not … normal … not a normal thing to say?”
Irene shrugged. “Normal’s boring.”
Oh. Was this where Jessica got that idea from?
“Right…”
“Well?”
“Hm?”
“You need to go to the bathroom, right?”
“No, and even if I did, I wouldn’t use Irene’s mouth. I mean, I just met her, you know.”
“Oh, but she knows all about you.”
That couldn’t be good. How could he escape? But this was his apartment. Where could he even run to?
“I really don’t want to know—”
“She watched our porno.”
“God damn it, is there anyone you didn’t show that to?”
Jessica giggled. “Just like one or two more friends, don’t worry.” That was not the answer Parker was hoping Jessica would give him, but he figured he should be thankful it was only one or two more of her friends.
“Can I see it?” Irene couldn’t be talking about what he thought she might be talking about. There was no way. A woman he met just minutes ago for the first time … surely, she wasn’t asking to see his—“I want to see your dick for myself.”
Parker could only laugh. Ordinarily, having such a beautiful woman request such a thing would’ve been at least somewhat humbling, but given the situation, Parker couldn’t feel anything less than absolutely and utterly bewildered. Not only was it difficult to keep up with another Jessica, but the implication that something about the porno made Irene want to see his penis in person made Parker’s mind spin. He wasn’t sure if he wanted to know why that was, but now he had to grapple with that fact with the eager-eyed woman sitting on the other side of the couch from him. “Jessica, what…?”
“Oh, I forgot, you probably didn’t watch. There were some shots that made your penis look amazing, so I’d say Irene’s reaction is understandable.”
That wasn’t what Parker was trying to ask Jessica in the slightest, nor did he really understand Jessica’s explanation of Irene’s reaction, so he ended up just saying, “No, I—I’m, I’m not—I mean, I literally just met you, why would you want to go there already?”
Irene furrowed her eyebrows in confusion. “Do I need to know someone for a while to see their dick?” Was she being serious? Either Irene was the best actress in the world, or she actually didn’t see an issue with her proposal. “I mean, people have one-night stands all the time, don’t they?”
“I mean—” Parker had to admit Irene had a point. But still … his brain was starting to hurt. It really was too much, trying to keep up with two Jessicas at the same time. “—no, I guess, but…”
“…But what? Did you want to see my tits first? I mean, they aren’t anything too impressive, especially compared to Jessica, but—” Parker stopped Irene as she moved to throw her short off.
“No! That wasn’t what I was trying to say. It’s just … I thought you came here to hang out with Jessica?”
“Um … I thought she invited me over to introduce me to you.” It was only then that Parker remembered Jessica mentioning introducing a childhood friend to him a week ago.
“Ah, right…” Thinking back on it, Jessica’s description of her at the time matched Irene pretty well: her figure wasn���t the best, but she was insanely beautiful. Parker just wished Jessica had given him a better heads up as to what kind of a person she was. Then again, she was Jessica’s friend. “…but that wasn’t the impression I got from Jessica.”
“…whoops, forgot to tell you?”
Parker rolled his eyes and sighed. “Well, now that you’ve introduced us…”
A brief silence followed in which the two ladies exchanged glances. Whatever telepathy that transpired between the two, the result was Irene saying, “I guess Jessica didn’t tell you much about me.”
Parker shook his head. “Sorry, not really.”
“Well, basically, all you need to know is that I have a breeding kink.” Again, Parker was caught off guard, letting out a hacking cough. “I came here because I want you to pump me so full of cum, my womb will have no choice but to give me a baby.”
That was a hell of a proposal, but what was Parker even supposed to do with it? Sure, Irene was definitely attractive enough to elicit a positive desire to acquiesce with that demand, but first off, why him, specifically? Was it because of that porno? The way she worded it … ‘my womb will have no choice but to give me a baby’ … Parker didn’t want to pry, but it almost sounded like Irene had tried multiple times before and had failed just as many times. But why would he have any better of a shot than all the other presumed guys she’s had in the past?
He felt like Irene was burdening him with a task, and the expectant way she was looking at him reinforced that.
“Ordinarily, I would want proof that you were tested recently for STIs, but since Jessica vouched for you, that’s not necessary. I have my own STI test report from last week in case you wanted to see it for yourself.” Irene handed him a bundle of papers that Parker briefly looked at—not that he was that interested in them, more so because he was so perplexed that looking at the bundle of papers placed in his hand was a reflexive action to being handed them. “Also, if you do manage to impregnate me, I promise to not burden you with child support. I can sign a contract if you’d like. I have one here,” she said, procuring another bundle of papers from her purse.
“Um…” Parker was overwhelmed, and this time, it wasn’t because of her eccentricity. It was almost like a business transaction, except it was one of those too-good-to-be-true proposals that had to be a scam. But if it was, where was the detriment to himself? This was Jessica’s friend, after all: would she try to scam a friend of her friend?
All this preparation reinforced his theory that Irene had done this with multiple other men, but aside from that, Parker didn’t know what else to think. Irene certainly seemed determined, even if she had said everything with the same jovial expression on her face. Thinking about the amount of times Irene must’ve tried and failed to become impregnated made him feel bad for her, even if he didn’t know why it was that Irene so badly wanted a child. But the question remained: why did he have to be the next one to try to knock her up?
“Come on, Parker—Irene’s giving you a free pass to fuck her until you’ve emptied your balls inside her. When’s the next opportunity to fuck someone like Irene without worrying about any consequences going to come up?”
Parker didn’t want to admit that Jessica had a point, but first… “Just to make sure—you aren’t in a relationship, right?” Irene shook her head. There was one concern gone, but with that, another arose. “Then … I’m sorry if this is insensitive, but do you mind telling me why you want a baby so badly?”
“Well, they’re so cute, aren’t they? Ever since I was little, I’ve loved kids, but guys don’t really like me, so I decided I’ll just raise one myself.” Parker didn’t believe Irene in the slightest when she said that guys didn’t like her, but there had to be a basis for that. What that was wasn’t Parker’s business to determine. In the corner of his eyes, he could also see Jessica shift uncomfortably a little, but he didn’t want to try to read into things. “Having sex with a bunch of different kinds of people is just a bonus. I don’t think I’ve ever had sex with someone as huge as you, though.”
Parker almost felt like he had to accept Irene’s proposal, which was weird because no man in his right mind would reject a chance to have sex with her. If they had met at a bar and Irene proposed to go back to his place, they might’ve had a one-night stand even if he didn’t know her ultimate goal with the sex. But… “So … you brought Irene over to have sex with me?”
“…Yeah?”
Sometimes, Parker wished he could dive into Jessica’s head to figure out why she didn’t find it weird that she did this. If Parker had a nickel every time Jessica brought over a friend with the explicit purpose of getting the two of them to have sex, Parker would have two nickels, which wasn’t that many nickels but it was weird it happened twice. Or maybe it wasn’t weird, considering this was Jessica. Did this mean he could anticipate Jessica doing this more in the future? If he and Tiffany became a couple, what would that say about him as a boyfriend, even if Tiffany stated she was fine with being in an open relationship? At least right now, he and Tiffany weren’t an item, but if they ever did, could he, in good conscience, do this?
“You gotta stop pimping me out.”
“Well, think about it like this: you get to fuck a bunch of hot women, and my friends get to experience your cock. It’s a win-win!”
“So, is that a no then?”
At the point they were in, needing to talk about being exclusive to each other was implied, but with what Jessica said … of all people, Jessica, the best friend of the woman he was seeing, who so woefully begged Parker to take care of Tiffany well, telling him Tiffany said that it was fine for him to have sex with other women … and to top it all off, as much as Parker tried to stave off the feeling, he could feel himself getting turned on ever so slightly. Was he bad for feeling this way? It felt wrong in so many ways, but when such an amazingly attractive woman was pushing herself onto him like this, wasn’t feeling turned on natural? No, a man with principles would be able to turn her away. But, then again, a man of principles might also claim that it was a man’s duty to acquiesce to the demands of a woman in need, and Irene was presenting herself to him as exactly that. “Well, first of all, let’s move.”
Just as he moved to stand up, Irene pushed him back down onto the couch. “Nope. I’m way too horny now. Do you mind?” Irene asked, her fingers looping around his pants.
“Wha—um—” Not that he wasn’t used to very forward women, but the eagerness with which Irene situated herself between his legs stunned him for a second. “—n-no, I guess?”
Off came his pants and boxers, and out came his mostly-limp dick. “Ooh, wow…” Irene’s dainty fingers brushed against his member. Parker felt his lower half tense up, his dick twitching at the soft sensations of her fingers wrapping around his shaft. “You’re not even hard yet, huh?”
Shit. Parker wasn’t mentally prepared yet, so, scrambling to answer, he stammered out a, “not really.”
“Hmm…” Irene’s fingers wrapped more tightly around him. With each firm tug and jerk, the soft reproductive organ grew more and more erect. “It’s so beautiful, too…”
Parker blinked, then let out a chuckle. “What?”
“Isn’t it?”
Irene turned to Jessica, who nodded in response. “It is!”
“What…” the question died in his throat. Not that he’s seen many other penises, but Parker figured his was pretty average, appearance-wise. What about it was aesthetically pleasing? He knew he probably wasn’t going to get a very good answer though, so he let the question die in his throat.
“Wow, and it’s still getting bigger.”
Figuring it was pointless to continue ponder about the morality of the situation, Parker shifted his mind towards Irene. The slightly deeper breaths Parker was taking gradually turned into gasps and hisses, his erection hardening and growing with every stroke. “Mmm…”
The fact that Jessica was very avidly watching didn’t help at all. Parker shot her a glare, but she just responded with a confused expression, her drawn-together eyebrows asking him ‘what?’. He didn’t have high hopes that would drive Jessica away, but Irene didn’t even seem to mind. She continued stroking him, egging it on further by planting chaste kisses along its hardening length.
“You said it was … seven inches?”
“Yea—”
“Seven point five,” Jessica interjected.
Parker had felt it irrelevant to correct such a minute difference, but of course Jessica would know the precise measurement, and of course she would be the one to correct Irene.
“Oh, god … so this is what seven-point-five looks like, huh?” Irene said in marvel, staring at his now fully-erect penis.
“Yeah. How do you feel, finally seeing it in person now?”
Parker tried not to think about the implications of Jessica’s use of the word ‘finally’. He, for a brief moment, wondered if women talked about the porn they watched and if they used it, but knowing it was Jessica and a slightly smaller and less curvy Jessica, he realized it was pointless to even wonder about it. “It’s … amazing. I thought they must’ve spent some serious budget to make his cock look so mouth-wateringly appealing, but now I realize the camera didn’t do it justice.”
“This is so weird.”
“Hm? What is?”
Parker could only gape at the clueless Irene. “Wha-What? What isn’t?”
“Oh, I guess you would want me to at least do this shirtless, huh?”
“That’s not—” Parker’s interjection fell upon deaf ears, Irene proceeding to throw off her shirt and revealing her breasts. The loose top she wore hid how well-developed they actually were, but they still probably couldn’t fill Parker’s palm. That didn’t mean he didn’t appreciate them, though: with its even paler, milky white color tightly stretching across her chest, each mound decorated with a golf-ball sized, light-brown areola with two equally squeezable-looking nubs sitting in the center, they were as pleasant a sight to look at as the rest of her. “—what I meant in the slightest, but ok.”
“Hm? What did you mean, then?”
“I mean, Jessica’s right there.”
“So?”
Parker shook his head. He should know better than to try to appeal to common sense with a Jessica. “Never mind.”
Irene gave him a smile, giving his shaft a few more firm pumps before saying, “You’re funny,” then swallowing his tip whole in one swift motion.
“Agh—” Irene didn’t stop until she was halfway down his length, and by then, he could feel her throat tightening around his cock. “—ah, Irene—”
Irene, on the other hand, had placed hands on either side of his inner thigh to stabilize herself, unable to respond except with a few gagging noises. Tears started welling up in her eyes the further she went down, suppressing her gag reflex when it reached deep enough. It felt like it would never stop, not that Irene wanted it to; she felt like she had completely unhinged her jaw, her nose almost pressing against his shaft. Being that she could only breathe from her nostrils, with every intake of air she took in, accompanying it was the musky smell of Parker’s cock, and that invigorated Irene even more. With how much space Parker was occupying her mouth, her tongue had no choice but to be firmly pressed against the underside of his dick, haplessly drooling all over it. She tried to pay as much attention to his balls while doing so, but the truth was, at some point, both Irene’s mind and her throat had become completely occupied with Parker’s penis.
“Ah, shit.”
“Wow, look at her go…”
Irene barley registered the fighting words of her friend, taking a few moments to steel herself before beginning to bob her head against his length. Another swear flew out Parker’s mouth at the feeling of her velvety tongue expertly gliding and coiling along his length, her throat flexing and tightening against his member like it was made to house him. However, if that was indeed the case, then the housing was grossly undersized: Irene still had a third left to go before she could claim to have taken in his entire dick with her mouth.
Part of Irene began to wonder how he’d fit inside her pussy. How far would he reach, how would it feel to have him cum that deep inside her? Irene’s pussy ached, translated in the increased vigor of her deepthroating of Parker.
“Irene, holy shit—”
Parker was doing everything in his power to keep her hands off her hair. While Irene’s impressive blowjob-turned-deepthroating felt amazing, and while she sank a bit deeper with each bobbing motion, having the little bit unattended left something to be desired. Even if she talked and acted like Jessica, it didn’t mean she wanted to be treated like her, nor did it mean he even felt comfortable doing so. The fact that, in watching her and experiencing what Irene was doing to him, he felt inclined to shove her face until her nose touched his crotch made him wonder if Jessica had become too much of a negative influence on him.
Like clockwork, as soon as Parker felt sufficiently warmed up to want to reciprocate, Irene came up for air.
“Wow, you almost got all of it by the end there.”
“Really?” Irene wiped the drool coming out of the corner of her mouth, but even as she did so, she looked insanely beautiful. It wasn’t the same pure-innocent beauty as from before: this time, it was more so a femme fatale kind of beauty, one that made you realize she was dangerous but in all the ways you didn’t care about.
“Yeah, you had like an inch to go, it looked like.”
“Hm…” Irene looked up at Parker with a grin. “Maybe next time, I’ll go for all of it.”
“…Right.”
Irene giggled at Parker’s confounded reaction. “How was my throat?”
“It felt…” Was it normal to ask the question so giddily? “…uh, it was good…?”
“Why do you never tell me that?”
“Well,” Irene said, ignoring her friend and climbing onto Parker’s lap, shooting a dazzling, seductive smile at him, “wait until you feel my pussy.” It should’ve hardly been a surprise that Irene talked this way, but it still caught Parker a bit by surprise. By the time he had processed it fully, Irene was already aligning his cock with her entrance. “Ready?”
“This is … shouldn’t it normally be me who’s asking you?”
“Oh, you won’t have to ask me if I’m ready.”
The next sound to come out of Parker’s mouth was a surprised moan, the feeling of Irene’s blazing hot sex wrapping around his cock overriding his ability to speak.
“Mmm…”
Irene had her eyes closed, a mixture of a bliss and lust on her face as she lowered herself onto him at an astonishingly quick pace—quicker than Jessica their first few times, if he remembered correctly. “Ah, Irene—”
“Wow, fuck you’re big…”
More than halfway down, Irene started to slow down, electing to rotate her hips and slowly grind her way down his shaft. It felt incredible, alright: the intense tightness with which her pussy squeezed his cock, the wetness that counteracted any resistance the tightness offered, the warmth, the way her pussy walls seemed to be massaging his shaft … but the fact that Jessica was right there, and he was inside a woman he didn’t even know an hour before lingered in the back of his mind. Irene didn’t seem affected at all, but it stuck in Parker’s mind: was this normal? It couldn’t be, right?
Who was he kidding, of course it wasn’t normal. Even one-night stands, picking up chicks from bars or meeting from Tinder or the like involved getting to know someone at least somewhat before getting to the sex. For Parker, he had been made aware of Irene’s existence for only a few minutes before his cock was already two-thirds of the way inside her. How much his sense of what’s normal dulled since he started spending time around Jessica … Parker didn’t even want to think about it.
“Wa-Wait, Irene…”
He could tell Irene was going considerably slower, and if she was in pain, she was doing an immaculate job of hiding it. The intensity her pussy was squeezing his cock, however, was teetering on the line of pleasure and pain. However, perhaps it was due to some kind of pride, or maybe it didn’t feel painful to her, or maybe it even was Irene wanting to brag about being able to take his entire length in one go to Jessica, but she didn’t stop.
“Hmm … mmm…”
The low rumble of Irene’s husky voice was a nice distraction to the burgeoning pain on his cock, but Parker still had to grit his teeth to endure it.
“Irene, please…”
Parker had hardly ever begged for anything in his life. Maybe there were some times when he was a kid, begging his parents to let him finish the gym battle in the Pokémon game he was playing or begging his parents for ice cream on a hot summer day, but his parents otherwise treated him well. His first couple of sexual encounters with Jessica was what broke his streak of not needing to beg for anything, but ever since she told him about her competition with Hunter, the need to do that vanished.
At this moment, that need reemerged.
“Too … it’s too tight…”
The plea seemed to translate into a compliment to Irene’s ears, though. “Yeah? You like how tight my pussy is?”
It wasn’t that it didn’t feel good at all, but a combination of things distracted Parker from the pleasure aside from the pain—namely, self-consciousness from the knowledge that Jessica was watching them and the fact that he and Irene were essentially strangers. Asking Jessica to leave wasn’t going to actually make her leave, and addressing the fact that he met Irene only minutes before didn’t seem like it’d affect Irene, so the only thing he could point out was the thing she was bragging to him about.
“N—Irene, slower, please…”
“Hm?" Parker’s hands cupped her cheeks and pushed upwards. “Oh!” Jessica let out a giggle as Parker lifted her up enough that the pain mostly subsided.
“You’re too eager, Rene.”
“Sorry…”
Irene shared a sheepish smile with Parker, who just shook his head at it. “Just, more slowly, ok?”
Irene nodded, and it was only after that when Parker realized what he had said: or rather, how casually he said it.
Being around Jessica really was messing with his capability to withstand a level of bullshit a normal person shouldn’t. Then again, a normal person would probably be willing to withstand more bullshit for the chance to have sex with Irene.
“Righty-do.” Parker blinked a few times, a bemused smile starting to play at his lips. “But you have to control the pacing this time, ok? Because I can’t promise I won’t do the same thing if you don’t.”
“Uh, right.”
When they resumed, Irene’s eyes fluttered shut. Her lips parted again, something Parker couldn’t help but look at: of all the beautiful features perfectly placed on her face, her lips had to be the most alluring. Even when slightly parted, or perhaps even more so when they were slightly parted, they seemed to naturally form a pout.
He wasn’t dating Tiffany yet. Plus, according to her best friend, she was even fine with an open relationship. And said best friend, who seemed to be invested in the relationship between the two, introduced Irene to Parker for this exact purpose. This wasn’t cheating. He shouldn’t feel bad for wanting to lean forward and capture Irene’s perfect, kissable lips.
“Shit.”
“Ooh yeah, fuck…”
Irene, perhaps interpreting Parker’s frustrated groan as one of pleasure, responded in kind, gently biting the corner of her lower lip and throwing her head back.
Having sex with Jessica was one thing, but having sex with another woman, even if she was Jessica in another body … Parker couldn’t rid himself of the thought that he was betraying Tiffany, somehow.
“Deeper, babe…”
“…Shit.”
Tiffany didn’t seem the least bit phased when Jessica was riding him; in fact, she seemed intrigued more than anything. But then again, that was before they started seeing each other. Maybe now it would be different.
Was he thinking about this too deeply?
“Parker…?” Irene turned around, her eyes landing on the conflicted, downcast gaze of the man whose cock was inside her.
“Damn it. Jessica, are you really sure about Tiffany?”
“Oh, wait, Parker’s the guy Fany’s been seeing recently, right?” Jessica nodded. “In that case, we should probably send her some pic—” she abruptly cut herself off upon seeing Jessica hastily motioning for her to stop.
What? Was this some kind of extreme teasing? Did Irene hate Tiffany or something? Why would she propose such a thing? But, most of all, why wasn’t Jessica reprimanding Irene for suggesting them to do such a thing for what seemed to be their mutual friend?
“I was going to let Tiff tell him!”
“Oh! Oh my god, I’m so sorry—”
“Ok—” Parker lifted Irene off his lap and set her down next to him. It was definitely strange, preparing to dive into a serious topic with his erection out for all to see, but this seemed too important to pass up. “—what? What kinds of pictures were you going to send her?”
“Um, sorry Parker, I need to ask her something first.”
“Just to be clear, were you talking about pictures of … of … this?” Parker didn’t intend to raise his voice, but he felt as though he had been deceived into playing some kind of cruel prank on Tiffany. Irene seemed so nice, so likeable, and so genuine, too.
“I can tell you what Irene meant by that, but first I need Tiff’s—” Jessica’s voice trailed off a little, her eyes darting back to her phone notifying her of a text message. “—um, Tiff’s permission.”
After finally blowing up on Jessica about what they had been doing behind Hunter’s back after nearly being caught by him on his balcony, Parker figured Jessica needn’t hide much else from him. Jessica, too, seemed glad to be cleared of that misunderstanding … but where did Tiffany play a part in this?
“Give me a little…”
Irene sat idly next to Parker, a clearly guilty expression on her face. That wasn’t the face of someone who wanted to do something mean to Tiffany. Or did she just look that way because she had been caught?
“…ok, I got her permission. You know how I told you Tiffany was fine with an open relationship, but didn’t elaborate?” Parker hesitantly nodded. He didn’t want to antagonize Jessica, nor Irene, too quickly, so he made sure to reign in any kind of animosity that was starting to form within himself. “Well, I figured Tiffany wanted to be the one to tell you, but now the cat’s out of the bag, and now that I got her permission, I’ll let you know. I actually do know why Tiffany’s fine with an open relationship: it’s because she’s … how should I put this, a voyeur?” Parker didn’t even know how to interpret that. “Hm … no…” but what did that have to do with anything? “…well, the bottom line is, she finds the idea of another woman fucking her man hot.”
Parker’s first reaction was to scoff at that. “What?”
“I know! It’s always the purest, most innocent ones that are the freakiest, huh?” In Parker’s eyes, Jessica had no grounds to say such a thing, but … looking into her eyes, there didn’t seem to be a hint of deceit. Not that he knew her well enough to be able to detect it. “Why do you think she asked me to watch that porno we shot?”
Shit … well, that did explain that one thing, given it was true.
“But…”
“I can show you what I just texted her if you want proof.” It felt like a violation of privacy of the woman he was seeing, but his curiosity got the better of him. He nodded, leaning forward, Jessica turning her phone’s screen toward him. Sure enough, the text exchange was with Tiffany, and Jessica was explicitly asking permission to tell him about that aspect about herself. What probably took Jessica a bit to inform him was the little bit of hesitation Tiffany showed, but when Jessica promised some pictures and videos of him fucking Irene, Tiffany buckled.
“Do … you have a single normal friend?!”
Jessica burst into laughter. “That’s rude! Aren’t you pretty much dating her?”
Parker groaned. On the side, he could hear the faint chuckles of Irene. “I mean…” he didn’t mean it like that. It was just a guttural reaction he couldn’t contain … but wasn’t it pretty normal? Actually, he shouldn’t justify that outburst like that. Admittedly, it was pretty awful of him to say such a thing about a woman he was seeing, but … well, at the very least, this was something he did not see coming. And he wondered why Tiffany was friends with Jessica; turns out, they maybe had more in common than he initially thought. “…yeah, but … wait, are you actually gonna send pictures to her?”
“Well, I promised, so … unless you’re unwilling?”
Parker almost laughed at that. Leave it to Jessica to just assume he was on board with such a ridiculous proposal. If it was something the woman he was seeing wanted … should he deny her? It wasn’t even like the idea that Tiffany was a cuck of sorts turned him off from her; maybe it was Jessica’s influence on him, but he saw it as nothing more than a quirk, albeit a pretty extreme one.
“Irene…?”
“Um…” Irene’s downtrodden gaze alerted Parker that she still felt bad despite things having been cleared up.
“It’s—” it was only then Parker remembered his dick was out, which he began to move to cover but stopped halfway. “—uh, it’s fine.”
“So … then, are you also ok with the pictures?”
Parker sighed. When did his life become so weird? “Yeah, I guess.”
At that, Irene’s eyes lit up. “Great!” Actually, maybe Parker was the weird one. Maybe his preference for missionary, and at most, doggy, made him the odd-man-out. “Then…” Irene sprung off the couch and repositioned herself in his lap, her hands resting on his knees while her ass hovered inches over his softening erection. Parker tentatively put his hands on her plump cheeks, spreading them out to see her still-glistening pink folds, drooling at the prospect of being torn open again by his cock. “…go ahead. Make me scream with that dick.”
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insidekatmind · 1 day ago
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Resistance~Hwang in-ho
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Request: yes!
The room was enveloped in an almost oppressive silence, the sound of the participants’ breathing filling the air. Every bunk was occupied, except for one, that of Hwang In-ho, better known as Frontman. As player number 001, he had earned everyone’s trust, managing to manipulate his fellow players’ minds without anyone ever suspecting him. But there was one person who didn’t fall for his charm, who wasn’t fooled by his sweet words and calculated moves: you.
After the team game, in which many had lost their lives, you found yourself in the room, lying on your bunk, staring silently at the empty top bunk. The thought of what had just happened tormented you, but there was also something you couldn’t explain. You couldn’t understand how you were the only one who realized something was off with Frontman.
The others avoided you, not wanting to hear your theories. They still believed he was just another man, someone who had been lucky enough to survive the first game, someone who wouldn’t hurt anyone. But you, with a clarity that seemed out of place in such a context, had noticed too much.
And just as you were reflecting, the door to the room opened, breaking the silence as Frontman entered with his confident stride, as if he were at home. His presence exuded an unsettling calm, yet there was something in his eyes that betrayed his interest in you. He knew you were the only one who didn’t bend to his will. And for him, that was a challenge he couldn’t ignore.
He approached your bunk and stopped right in front of you. His voice, soft but firm, resonated in the air. "You know, it’s not easy being the only one to see the world for what it is. Most prefer to close their eyes and follow the current. But you… you’re different."
You stayed silent, still looking up. You could feel his attention on you, but you weren’t about to give in."It’s not about being different. It’s about seeing beyond appearances."
Frontman smiled slightly, as if he had finally found someone worth talking to. Then he sat on the bunk next to yours, gazing at you with a penetrating look."You have an interesting intuition. But you’re wrong if you think I’m like the others. I’m not here to play by the rules, those rules you’re trying to follow."
"And I don’t want to play this game anymore. I’ve seen too many things I don’t like. And you, Frontman, are one of those things." You said.
His smile widened, but not in anger. Instead, he seemed pleased, as though he had finally found someone who wasn’t easily swayed by his power. "You never should have come. But now that you’re here, you have the chance to understand what it really means to be here, in this game."
There was a long silence between us, where neither of us spoke, but we both understood we were operating on different levels. You were the only one who wouldn’t be manipulated, but he wasn’t going to let you slip away so easily.
"Why don’t you stay with me? We could be powerful together. I can give you what you want, what the others will never give you." In-ho said.
You knew exactly what he was trying to do. He was offering you power, an escape that sounded too tempting to be true. But you would never give in. Your resistance intrigued him more and more, and every attempt he made to get closer made the anger inside you grow, something you couldn’t ignore anymore.
"There’s nothing you can offer me that’s worth it. These games are your prison, and in the end, you’ll be trapped just like the others." you replied
In ho raised an eyebrow, visibly amused by your response. His smile was enigmatic, as though he was reflecting on something deeper."We’ll see how long you last. In the end, you’ll understand there’s no way out. You either bend, or you perish."
His gaze grew more intense, as though he wanted to engrave every word in my mind. But I wasn’t afraid. I wouldn’t give in.
And so, the tension between us remained suspended, like a tight rope ready to snap. I knew this was just the beginning.
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loving-daisy · 2 days ago
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Soft Spot | Theodore Nott x Reader
loving-daisy masterlist
Words: 8.1k
Summary: Theodore Nott didn't believe in love, but no one quite has ever made him feel like his best friend's younger sister, Y/N Malfoy.
Warnings: mentioned death of a loved one
Inspired by the song Soft Spot by keshi
。゚•┈୨♡୧┈• 。゚。゚•┈୨♡୧┈• 。゚。゚•┈୨♡୧┈• 。゚
Theodore Nott wasn’t the type to openly express his feelings, least of all to someone like her. Y/N was a Malfoy, after all, and despite their shared house and mutual acquaintances, there was an unspoken divide between them.
Theodore Nott and Y/N Malfoy had always known each other, and their families had been good friends for many years. Growing up, they were frequently dragged together at family gatherings, whether at Malfoy Manor or in the gardens of the Nott estate.
Theodore remembered her as a little girl, a bit shy but was always the first to stand up for what she believed in, always the first to make sure he wasn’t left out of games or conversations, and always the first to offer a hug when things weren’t going well. He especially remembered her as the one who rushed up to him the first time she saw him after his mother had died. It was the first time, after his mother, he had ever received a hug from anyone. And that stook to him. 
But when they entered Hogwarts, everything changed. As Theodore and Draco were in the same year, they entered first, meaning it had been a few months before he got to see the young Malfoy again. They weren’t particularly close, no. So, they had no reason to keep up with each other’s business. 
The following year, as the young Malfoy entered Hogwarts, Y/N, like Draco, seemed to easily settle into her role in the Slytherin House—charming, sharp-tongued, with a quiet confidence. She wasn’t like the little Y/N he had once known when they were younger. She felt different. Like a little flower waiting to blossom.
With Draco being a protective brother, the young Malfoy quickly became a part of Draco’s inner circle with him, Blaise, and Pansy. 
Despite being in the same friend group for a couple of years, Theodore always felt that she was untouchable, in a way—too much of her family’s reputation clung to her for him to ever really consider her an equal.  Not to mention that she was his best friend’s little sister.
Yet today… there was something different. As she moved down the hall, her gaze still hovering on him for just a heartbeat longer than necessary, Theodore couldn’t help but feel like there was more to Y/N than the icy, untouchable Malfoy name. Her smile was fleeting, but it made him question everything he had assumed about the youngest Malfoy.
“Are you going to stare at that book all day, Nott?” Her tone was teasing, light, but there was an underlying note of something more—something that hinted she had noticed his attention.
His heart skipped, and he quickly looked up, startled. "I… uh, wasn’t staring at the book," he said quickly, unsure how to respond.
Malfoy smirked, clearly entertained by his flustered response. “I’m sure,” she said with a raised eyebrow, her tone dipping into something more challenging.
“Anyways,” she started, “I heard you’re not coming to the Hogsmeade trip again. Why so?” 
“I’m…uh…busy.” 
The girl scoffed, rolling her eyes. “Busy with what? Staring at another book?” 
“I…”
Theodore heard the girl groan.
“Come on, Theo, don’t you want to spend some time with us? With me?” Y/N asked, her gaze on him lingering for a few beats. 
Theodore's cheeks flushed, but he couldn't help but admire her boldness. It wasn't just that she had taken him off guard; it was also that she appeared so at ease with herself, so confident in her demeanor. She didn't need to prove anything to anybody, which was both frustrating and intriguing.
"I didn't know you wanted me to be there," he eventually mumbled, the words escaping before he could stop them. He quickly regretted it, although Y/N did not appear offended. Instead, she inclined her head, examining him briefly, her look softening somewhat.
"Well, of course, Theo," she said, her voice still light but with an edge that indicated she wasn't completely dismissive. "You are our friend after all." 
。゚•┈୨♡୧┈• 。゚。゚•┈୨♡୧┈• 。゚。゚•┈୨♡୧┈• 。゚
Theodore felt out of place as he walked through the snow-covered streets of Hogsmeade, the air frigid and sharp against his skin. He'd spent the last few weeks avoiding this—and everyone. But something had changed. It was something about Y/N and how she approached and invited him to join. He had been reluctant, questioning if he was ready for the social engagement. But now, with the wind cutting his cheeks and the promise of Y/N's grin waiting for him, he was determined to overcome his second thoughts.
When he spotted the group outside the Three Broomsticks, the first thing that struck him was how normal they all looked, standing together, chatting and laughing as if nothing had changed.
Draco was leaning against the wall, his arms crossed in his trademark pose, while Blaise stood nearby, looking far more interested in the weather than in the conversation. Pansy was standing just a little farther down, her laughter carrying in the cold air, and Y/N was beside her, looking effortlessly calm, her eyes scanning the crowd.
As Theodore drew closer, Draco was the first to notice him. He straightened up and blinked in surprise. “Nott? You’re actually here?”
Theodore smiled a little awkwardly and nodded. “Yeah. Thought I’d join you lot for once.”
Draco raised an eyebrow, clearly surprised, but there was no mocking in his voice. “You’ve been a bit of a ghost lately. Didn’t think you’d show up.”
Theodore shrugged, trying to downplay his nerves. “Guess I just needed a change. Why not join the fun for once?”
Blaise, who had been watching the exchange silently, finally spoke up. “Well, well. The reclusive Theodore Nott emerges from the shadows.” His tone was teasing, but there was no real judgment behind it. Blaise knew Theodore well enough to tell when something was up.
Theodore chuckled but his gaze shifted to the young Malfoy, and his heart skipped a beat.
She looked at him with a warm stare as if she wasn't surprised to find him here. Something about how she looked made him feel like he belonged, as if his hesitancy and distance had been rewarded only for this moment.
The girl smiled, her lips curving gently as she stepped toward him. “I’m glad you came,” she said, her voice quieter than the others, but her words carried a warmth that sent a shiver through him. “We’ve missed you.”
Theodore swallowed, feeling a little embarrassed by how his chest tightened at her words. “I’ve missed you all too,” he said, his voice unexpectedly soft as he gently looked at the young Malfoy. He realized then that he hadn’t been missing just the group but the feeling of belonging with them—of being able to be himself without pretending.
Pansy, ever observant, smirked at the exchange, her sharp eyes catching the subtle way they looked at each other. “Interesting. Finally dragged him out of his cave, Malfoy?”
The girl rolled her eyes, but the smile never left her face. “Not everything’s a game, Pansy.”
“Clearly,” Pansy teased, but her voice was light, playful.
Draco, still standing nearby, was watching Theodore closely. There was a flicker of something in his eyes—curiosity, maybe—but he didn’t comment further. Instead, he clapped Theodore on the back, more out of habit than anything else. “Well, now that you’re here, don’t expect to be left out of anything. Let’s get inside and warm up.”
Theodore trailed behind Y/N as they entered the Three Broomsticks, embracing the comfort of the fire as soon as he did so. 
He looked around at the busy pub, but his focus kept returning to her. She was standing next to him, close enough that he could feel the soft brush of her sleeve against his arm.
Theodore was unsure what had changed. He had no idea how things had changed so quickly, but now they were together, surrounded by friends, and for the first time in a long time, he felt like he was exactly where he needed to be.
As they settled at a table, the usual banter started up again. Draco and Blaise were arguing about something trivial, Pansy was making her usual sarcastic comments, and Y/N was laughing quietly at it all.
But Theodore found himself watching her, how she smiled, and her eyes sparkled when she laughed. There was something so easy and effortless about her presence, something that made him feel at home.
At that moment, he realized that showing up today was the right choice. He wasn’t just there for fun; he was there because he wanted to be. And more importantly, he wanted to be there with her.
。゚•┈୨♡୧┈• 。゚。゚•┈୨♡୧┈• 。゚。゚•┈୨♡୧┈• 。゚
Theodore found himself sitting alone at the Slytherin table in the Great Hall, pushing his food around without really eating. His mind is elsewhere, and his usually calm demeanor has shifted to a kind of quiet detachment. He looks pale, his eyes a little duller than usual, as though he’s carrying a heavy weight no one else can see. 
Y/N, seated at the opposite end of the table, can't help but notice. She studies him for a minute, sensing something is wrong but unsure how to approach him.
After a while, she stands up and walks over to Theodore’s side of the table, slipping into the seat next to him. He doesn’t look up at her immediately, but she can feel the tension from him.
“Hey,” she says softly, her voice gentle but firm, not wanting to startle him. “You’ve hardly touched your food.”
Theodore flinches slightly as if her voice pulled him out of some distant thought. He forces a small smile, but it doesn’t reach his eyes. “I’m not really hungry,” he mutters, his tone clipped and almost dismissive.
The girl studies him closely, catching the way his fingers are gripping the edge of his plate tightly, his knuckles slightly white. She knows Theodore well enough to recognize the signs. There’s something deeper going on—something more personal than just not feeling hungry.
“It’s okay to not be okay, you know,” The girl says quietly, her voice low so only he can hear. She leans in slightly, trying to make him feel comfortable. “You don’t have to pretend everything’s fine.”
Theodore shifts uncomfortably in his seat, his gaze dropping to his hands. His heart is heavy, and the grief of losing his mother years ago still stings in ways he doesn’t often let himself feel. It’s the anniversary of her death, and he’s been trying to keep himself busy, to bury the sadness deep within him.
He’s unsure how to express this grief, especially not to anyone at Hogwarts—especially not to Y/N Malfoy, who always seems so put together.
“I’m fine,” he says quickly, but his voice wavers slightly. It’s a lie, and he knows it, but he can’t bring himself to admit it. Not here, not now.
Y/N doesn’t push, but she doesn’t back off either. She knows when to give someone space and when to offer comfort gently. 
She watches him for a moment longer, then says softly, “You don’t have to hide it, Theodore. You don’t need to be the strong, silent type all the time.”
Theodore feels a pang in his chest at her words, their raw vulnerability cutting through his carefully constructed walls. He’s always been the quiet one, the one who keeps his emotions buried. But Y/N sees right through him, making him feel exposed, almost too fragile.
“I don’t… want to burden anyone,” he admits quietly, his voice low. “I don’t want anyone to see… how much it still hurts.”
Y/N’s heart softens at his words, and she reaches out gently, placing her hand over his on the table. The gesture is simple but sincere, an unspoken offer of support. “You’re not burdening me,” she says quietly. “You don’t have to carry everything on your own, you know. You don’t have to hide it from me.”
Theodore tenses at the touch, but there’s no bitterness in it. He doesn’t pull away, but the vulnerability is too much to handle all at once. He takes a deep breath as if trying to steady himself, but his chest tightens. “It’s… hard. I don’t know how to talk about it.”
The girl squeezes his hand, her touch reassuring and firm. “I’m not asking you to talk about it if you don’t want to. But you can share what you feel whenever you’re ready.”
Theodore looks up at her, then meets her gaze for the first time since she has sat down. Her eyes are warm and understanding, and she expresses quiet support. She doesn’t expect anything from him, making the moment feel safe.
His heart beats a little faster as he realizes that Y/N isn't judging him despite how difficult this moment is. She’s offering him the space to simply be.
“I don’t know how to do this…” he murmurs, his voice trembling slightly. “I don’t know how to let people in like that.”
The girl gives him a small, understanding smile. “You don’t have to have it all figured out right now. But I’m here for you, Theodore. Whenever you’re ready.”
For a long moment, Theodore doesn’t speak. He just sits there, feeling the weight of his grief, the warmth of her hand still over his. It’s comforting, in a way he doesn’t fully understand yet. Slowly, the tightness in his chest begins to ease, though it doesn’t go away entirely. For the first time, he doesn’t feel like he has to bury everything deep down. He doesn’t have to hide.
“Thank you,” he finally says, his voice barely a whisper.
Y/N simply nods, her hand still resting over his, offering the quiet reassurance that she’ll be there for him, no matter how much he chooses to share.
。゚•┈୨♡୧┈• 。゚。゚•┈୨♡୧┈• 。゚。゚•┈୨♡୧┈• 。゚
Theodore, once withdrawn and shy, now spends almost every free moment with Y/N. Maybe even more than he spends time with Draco and Blaise. 
They study together, talk about their dreams and worries, and share moments of quiet companionship. There are still times when Theodore retreats into himself, but Y/N has learned to recognize the signs. She gives him the space he needs without pushing, and when he’s ready to talk, she’s there.
Theodore leans back into the couch, his feet resting on the edge of a table, hands folded across his chest. His posture is relaxed, no longer the stiff, withdrawn figure he used to be when he first arrived at Hogwarts. Sitting beside him with her legs tucked under her, Y/N smiles as they talk about everything and nothing at all.
“You know,” The girl says, grinning mischievously, “I’ve never understood why you’re so good at Potions, but I can never get a single spell right without accidentally turning something into a pile of mush.”
Theodore laughs quietly, the sound surprisingly light. “It’s all about concentration,” he says, voice teasing but warm. “You need to focus. You’re too easily distracted.”
The girl raises an eyebrow. “Says the guy who once spilled an entire cauldron of Veritaserum because he got distracted by a book.”
Theodore chuckles at the memory, shaking his head. “I didn’t spill it because I was distracted! I just... didn’t realize the book had melted into the cauldron.”
Y/N laughs, and it’s a full, genuine laugh that fills the room. Moments like this make Theodore realize how much his friendship with her has changed him. She’s never judged him for his quirks or awkwardness; she’s simply accepted him for who he is, even if he’s sometimes a little scatterbrained.
“It’s honestly refreshing,” Y/N continues, “having a best friend who can make me laugh. You’ve got a dry sense of humor, but it works.”
Theodore smiles, but there's something more in his gaze—a soft affection. “I’m glad you think so.”
He glanced over at her. “You know, for someone who’s always so guarded, you’re surprisingly easy to talk to.”
She scoffed, but there was no bite in it. “You think so?”
He nodded, his smile faltering slightly. “Yeah. You get me, Malfoy. It’s… not something I’m used to.”
She glanced up at him. “I get you?”
Theodore’s usual air of cool detachment was replaced by something softer, something almost vulnerable. “Yeah. You do. And I get you, too. It’s…” He faltered as though struggling to find the right words. “It’s easy with you.”
“I don’t think I could have gotten through everything without you,” Theodore says, his voice quieter, more serious. “You’ve been there for me when I needed someone the most, even when you didn’t know how to help. You always know exactly when to just... listen. Or sit in silence with me.”
“I’m glad,” she said quietly, her voice soft.
They continued sitting in comfortable silence, the weight of their conversation hanging between them. There’s a brief pause, a shared understanding between them. They don’t need to say much more.
She wasn’t just the friend he had relied on for the past few months—she was the person who made him feel seen, understood, and… well, maybe more than just a friend. Theodore wasn’t sure yet.
The silence between the two friends was broken when Pansy saunters into the Slytherin dungeons, her sharp eyes darting between Y/N and Theodore as she took her place across them together with Blaise. 
"So, when's the big confession happening, hmm?" She teased. 
The young Malfoy laughed at her friend’s antics.
"What?" Theodore asks.
Pansy rolled her eyes at the response. "Come on, you two. We’ve all noticed it. You’re practically joined at the hip these days." 
 "Oh, please, Pansy. It’s just friendship." Y/N tried to convince. 
"Sure, just friendship. You two have spent nearly every waking moment together for the past year. It's definitely just friendship."
Theodore and Y/N exchange a glance, both slightly flushed but unwilling to admit anything.
Their friendship has always been easy, natural, but lately, there's been something more—something neither of them has quite figured out yet. The teasing from their friends only makes them more aware of it, but neither is quite ready to confront the possibility that it might be more than just friendship.
"Honestly, you two are impossible," Blaise muttered. 
。゚•┈୨♡୧┈• 。゚。゚•┈୨♡୧┈• 。゚。゚•┈୨♡୧┈• 。゚
Theodore’s chest tightened as he watched the stranger lean in toward Y/N, his hand brushing her arm casually as he spoke. She laughed, the sound soft and familiar, but the sight of her so at ease with someone else sent a wave of jealousy surging through Theodore’s veins.
He turned away sharply, gripping the bar's edge until his knuckles turned white.
This wasn’t fair.
Y/N had every right to talk to whomever she wanted. She wasn’t his. She’d never been his. And yet, the idea of someone else taking his place in her life was unbearable.
“Someone looks like they’re about to explode,” Pansy drawled as she slid beside him, putting on her gloves. “What’s the matter, Nott? Can’t stand the competition?”
“Not now, Pansy,” he muttered, not even glancing her way.
She smirked, clearly delighted by his discomfort. “You know, Nott, for someone so clever, you’re absolutely hopeless. Honestly, how many more boys asking her out, will it take before you admit you like her?”
Theodore’s jaw tightened. “I’m not—I don’t believe in love.”
It's true.
Theodore didn’t believe in love.
He didn’t believe in feelings, in general.
Growing up without the presence of his mother, Theodore’s father needed to emphasize and demand that love doesn’t exist. And this was proven true when his own father didn’t even show up to his mother’s funeral.
“Save it,” she interrupted, waving a hand dismissively. “We all see it. You’ve been pining for months. The only person who doesn’t know is Y/N herself. Or maybe…you’re the only one unaware of it.”
His silence was answer enough.
Pansy leaned in, lowering her voice conspiratorially. “You know, if you keep standing here brooding like some tragic hero, you’re going to lose her. Maybe it’s time you did something about it.”
Theodore’s eyes flicked toward the Malfoy girl again. She was still talking to the stranger, her smile easy and genuine. He hated how natural they looked together as if there was no room for him in her world anymore.
“Do something like what?” he asked bitterly. “Interrupt their conversation and declare my undying love? That’ll go over well.”
Pansy rolled her eyes. “You’re hopeless. But fine, keep sulking. Just don’t be surprised when someone else sweeps her off her feet while you’re busy hiding in the shadows.”
With that, she slipped away, catching sight of Blaise as they headed together to meet Draco, leaving Theodore alone with his thoughts as he stared at the young Malfoy.
。゚•┈୨♡୧┈• 。゚。゚•┈୨♡୧┈• 。゚。゚•┈୨♡୧┈• 。゚
The evening at the Three Broomsticks was winding down, and the company was unwinding after a few rounds of butterbeer. The warmth of the fire and the murmur of laughter filled the room, but as the clock struck later in the evening, the talk inevitably moved on to the approaching Yule Ball.
Draco, who had been taking in his drink as he listened to Pansy discuss prospective clothing options, smirked at Blaise. "So, are you intending to attend the Yule Ball this year, or are you avoiding it for some other strange reason, like you did last year?" 
Blaise rolled his eyes but didn't appear offended. "I am going, of course. I have a few possibilities. Not all of us have to scurry for a date like some people." He gave Draco a playful look, who shrugged unconcernedly.
"Right," Draco murmured, turning his attention to Theodore sitting next to his sister. "What about you, Theodore? Have you planned a date for the ball, or will you sit this one out as usual?" 
“I don’t plan on going,” Theodore said, his voice casual. “It’s not really my thing. Besides, I don’t have the energy to pretend to enjoy that sort of thing.”
Draco raised an eyebrow. “You really are a buzzkill, aren’t you? It’s one night, Theo. A chance to get dressed up and show off a little. You could at least think about it.” He glanced at his sister momentarily as if daring her to chime in.
Before Theodore could respond, he noticed Y/N, who had been quietly watching the conversation unfold, was now looking at him with a faint frown.
“What about you, little Malfoy?” Blaise asked, turning his attention to her. “You planning on going?”
The girl nodded. “I am, actually,” she said lightly, glancing at Theodore. “But Theo,” she added, her voice soft but firm, “you should reconsider. You should go. It’s your last chance to have fun, enjoy the music, and dance. You can’t just skip it because it’s ‘not your thing.’”
Theodore, who had been about to protest, looked at her. Her eyes were serious, and a kindness in her expression made something shift inside him.
He’d never thought about the Yule Ball as something he could enjoy, but Y/N was looking at him as if it was necessary as if it was important for him to go.
“I don’t know, Y/N,” he replied, his voice quieter. “It’s just not my scene. You know how I am with those things.”
“I do,” She said, her voice softening. She leaned a little closer, her hand brushing against his on the table. “But this isn’t just about going to a ball. It’s about having fun with your friends. You don’t have to have everything figured out or be the life of the party. Just go for the night. You don’t want to regret it later.”
Her words were sincere, and for a moment, Theodore felt something warm in his chest. How she looked at him, almost as if she could see through all the walls he’d built up around himself, made him reconsider.
“Come on, Theo,” Draco chimed in with a smirk. “You can’t possibly say no after Y/N’s given her stamp of approval. It’s practically an order.”
Blaise added, “You might actually have fun, you know. And who knows? Maybe someone will ask you to dance.”
Theodore snorted, though it was more out of surprise at the direction the conversation had taken than anything else. “You think I’d get asked to dance?” he said, his tone a little more teasing than usual, but his voice had a hint of self-consciousness.
“Of course,” Y/N said with a playful grin, her hand lightly resting on his. “Anyone would be lucky to have you as a dance partner.”
Her words were simple, but they made his heart race.
He didn’t know why, but hearing her say that made the idea of the ball seem less like a burden and more like something he might actually enjoy—especially if she was going to be there.
“Alright, fine,” he finally relented, glancing at the young Malfoy. “I’ll think about it. But I’m not promising I’ll enjoy it.”
“You will,” she said, her smile lighting up her face. “Trust me.”
There was a small pause as the group resumed chatting, but Theodore’s mind was no longer on the conversation. Instead, he found himself thinking about the Yule Ball in a new light.
Maybe it wouldn’t be so bad. Maybe it could even be fun.
And, if nothing else, he’d get to spend the evening with Y/N and the rest of his friends.
He looked at her then, really looked at her, and for the first time, he understood. She wasn’t asking him to transform into someone he wasn’t. She wasn’t asking him to be the life of the party or to pretend to enjoy every aspect of the night. She was just asking him to show up. To be there with the people who mattered, to make memories that, for once, didn’t revolve around his usual reluctance to engage in things like this.
For a moment, Theodore just stared at her, the warmth of the lights flickering in her eyes. He felt that familiar tug in his chest, that sensation of something more than just friendship. But he didn’t let it show, not yet. He wasn’t ready for that conversation.
“You’re not going to let this go, are you?” he asked, his voice quieter now.
The girl smiled and shook her head. “Nope. You’re going to the ball, Theo. And you’re going to have a good time. We’ll make sure of it.”
He sighed, but the corner of his mouth lifted slightly. “Alright, fine. I’ll go. But only because you said so.”
Y/N grinned, her eyes lighting up. “I knew you’d come around.”
Blaise coughed. “Softie.” He muttered, shaking his head. 
“Shut up, Blaise.” 
He wasn’t sure what he expected to happen, but as the snow continued to fall outside, he realized that this might just be the start of something unexpected—something he wasn’t ready to let go of just yet.
Y/N had a way of making everything seem possible, and for the first time in a long while, Theodore was starting to believe it.
Blaise wasn’t wrong, though. Theodore might have had a soft spot for the young Malfoy.
。゚•┈୨♡୧┈• 。゚。゚•┈୨♡୧┈• 。゚。゚•┈୨♡୧┈• 。゚
The Yule Ball was well underway, with the Great Hall sparkling beneath a canopy of floating golden stars, their gentle light reflecting off the magical ice sculptures dispersed across the hall. Students at Hogwarts moved in bunches.
The anticipation was apparent as rich, colorful dresses whirled beneath the dazzling floating candle lights. The air was filled with a subtle buzz of music, the delicate sounds of the orchestra flowing over the room, and laughing that seemed to come from everyone.
Y/N Malfoy stood near the entrance, her figure effortlessly poised in a gown of silver silk that shimmered with each movement. The dress hugged her form perfectly, a subtle tribute to her aristocratic lineage, but the soft drape of the fabric gave her an almost ethereal quality, as though she were more a figure from a painting than a living person. Her hair was styled in an elegant updo, small curls framing her face, as her eyes scanned the room.
Theodore Nott lingered near the refreshment table, quietly observing the swirling crowd. Unlike his peers, he didn’t seek the spotlight. His tailored black robes were simple but elegant. In usual Theodore fashion, the boy preferred the edges of the room, where he could avoid unnecessary chatter and instead focus on the rhythm of the night.
“You look like you’d rather be anywhere else,” The girl teased as she approached him, a faint smirk tugging at her lips.
“Not anywhere,” Theodore replied, his voice calm and steady. “Just somewhere quieter.” 
He tilted his head slightly. “And you? Surely, the Malfoy princess enjoys a night like this.”
The girl hummed in response, shrugging nonchalantly.
。゚•┈୨♡୧┈• 。゚。゚•┈୨♡୧┈• 。゚。゚•┈୨♡୧┈• 。゚
Theodore continued to stand off to the side throughout the Yule Ball, his eyes drifting over the swirling crowd. The music was loud, the flickering candles cast a warm glow across the room, and the students' laughter filled the air. But in the middle of it all, his gaze was fixed on one person-Y/N.
Blaise tilted his head, his dark eyes scanning the crowd with a bored yet calculating air. “You’ve been staring at her all night, Theo,” he said smoothly, his voice low enough to avoid prying ears.
Theodore didn’t look away from where Y/N Malfoy stood, laughing lightly at Pansy's judging words directed towards Harry Potter and his unfortunate date. The girl's smile was radiant, her eyes sparkling with amusement as she exchanged playful banter with Pansy. 
Theodore felt his chest tighten as he watched her, unable to look away. The way she laughed and how her eyes lit up when she was genuinely happy. It was all so mesmerizing.
With a jolt, he realized that he hadn't just noticed how beautiful she was; he had fallen for it.
For her.
“I have not,” Theodore replied evenly, though his tone lacked conviction.
Blaise chuckled, taking a leisurely sip from his goblet. “Right. You’re just monitoring the general well-being of the crowd. Completely selfless of you.”
Theodore finally tore his gaze away, fixing Blaise with a sharp look. “What do you want me to say?”
Blaise raised a brow, a slow smirk spreading across his face. “Oh, I don’t know. Maybe something like, ‘Y/N looks stunning tonight, and it’s driving me mad watching her spend time with someone else.’”
Theodore frowned, his grip tightening on his goblet. “She does look stunning,” he admitted quietly, his voice carrying a rare softness.
“Understatement of the century,” Blaise said, smirking. “Every bloke in this room has noticed, but she hasn’t noticed any of them.”
Theodore’s frown deepened. “What are you getting at, Zabini?”
Blaise sighed dramatically as though speaking to a particularly dense child. “I’m saying, Nott, that she hasn’t noticed them because she’s too busy noticing you. And instead of doing something about it, you’re standing here sulking into your drink.”
Theodore looked at him sharply, but Blaise remained unfazed, his smirk unwavering.
“Don’t be ridiculous,” Theodore muttered.
“Ridiculous? Hardly.” Blaise gestured toward the Malfoy girl with his goblet. “She’s barely looked at any other boy all night. But every time she glances over here—and she has, by the way—you’re too busy brooding to notice. Not to mention how she literally turned down every boy that asked her to dance.”
Theodore glanced back at Y/N, his jaw tightening.
“She’s just…” He trailed off, struggling to find the right words.
“Perfect?” Blaise supplied. “Unattainable? Completely and utterly worth it?”
She’s a dream. 
“She’s Draco’s little sister.” Theodore shot him a withering look. “You’re enjoying this far too much.”
“Immensely,” Blaise said with a grin. “But don’t let that stop you. I’m certain our friend would be cool about it. Go on, lover boy. Do something about it before her date gets it into his head to try to get it on with her even after beyond this night.”
For a moment, Theodore didn’t move, his mind racing. Then, without a word, he set his goblet down and stepped away from Blaise.
“Finally,” Blaise muttered, shaking his head in amused disbelief as he watched Theodore cross the room.
。゚•┈୨♡୧┈• 。゚。゚•┈୨♡୧┈• 。゚。゚•┈୨♡୧┈• 。゚
The music in the Great Hall slowed, shifting to a softer, more intimate melody. Couples on the dance floor moved closer, their steps in perfect harmony with the hauntingly beautiful tune. Y/N had been content lingering in the shadows of the grand room, nursing a goblet of punch when Theodore approached her.
He stood with his hands tucked into the pockets of his tailored robes, his sharp features softened by the warm candlelight.
“You’ve avoided every dance invitation tonight,” he said, his tone dry but not unkind.
The girl raised an eyebrow. “And yet here you are, about to offer one.”
“Only because I suspect you’ll say yes.” He extended a hand, his expression unreadable but his voice carrying the faintest hint of a challenge mixed with nervousness.
For a moment, Y/N hesitated. But then she placed her hand in his. “Let’s see if you can keep up, Nott.”
Theodore led her to the dance floor, his movements confident but unshowy. The girl followed his lead, their steps falling effortlessly into sync. 
“You’re surprisingly good at this,” she remarked, glancing up at him.
He smirked. “Surprisingly?”
“Well, you don’t exactly strike me as the waltzing type.”
“Maybe you don’t know me as well as you think,” Theodore replied, his tone low but playful. “I hate to dance, but I’d dance with you.”
He’s never been one for dancing—especially not in front of a crowd—but there’s something about how she looks tonight, something that makes him want to hold onto her forever and show her off to the world as his.
The two swayed to the rhythm, the world around them fading into a blur of swirling gowns and glittering lights. Theodore can’t help but notice how effortless it is to be with her. His nerves, which were there when they first started, slowly fade as he focuses on Y/N. Her laugh, her smile, the way her eyes sparkle with joy—it’s all so captivating.
Y/N glanced up at him. For a moment, the world around them—the glittering lights, the watchful eyes—faded.
"You know, for someone who didn’t want to come to the ball, you seem pretty content dancing here with me."
Theodore glances at her, a small, awkward smile tugging at the corners of his lips. He’s not one for grand events, but Y/N being here beside him makes the entire night feel less daunting. He feels out of place, but the world feels a little smaller in her presence. "It’s... not so bad. Besides, it’s not like I had a better option than being with you. You’re the most stunning person in this room."
Y/N’s heart skips a beat at his words. She’s always known there was something deeper between them, something more than friendship, but hearing him admit it in his quiet, reserved way fills her with warmth.
“You’re full of surprises, Nott. I’m glad you’re here,” she said softly.
Theodore looks down at her, his heart skipping a beat.
He’s not used to compliments or to feeling this seen by someone. There’s a warmth in her voice that he can’t ignore, and for a moment, it feels like the rest of the world has faded away.
They continued to dance, and the silence between them was comfortable now. It wasn’t until the music ended that Theodore played with the idea that maybe love does exist, especially with how Y/N Malfoy was making him feel right now.
。゚•┈୨♡୧┈• 。゚。゚•┈୨♡୧┈• 。゚。゚•┈୨♡୧┈• 。゚
As the music faded, Y/N and Theodore stepped off the dance floor, their steps slowing in unison. She brushed a strand of hair from her face, still feeling the faint adrenaline buzz from the waltz.
Draco strolled over, his expression unreadable at first but softening when he saw the two of them. He was dressed impeccably, as usual, his posture relaxed and confident.
“Well, isn’t this a surprise,” Draco drawled, his lips curving into a slight grin. “You, dancing, Y/N?”
The girl rolled her eyes—this time deliberately—and crossed her arms. “Always so supportive, aren’t you, Draco?”
“Supportive, sure. But mostly curious.” He turned to Theodore with mock seriousness. “What’s your secret? She never agrees to dance with me.”
Theodore shrugged casually. “I have my ways.”
“Must be the brooding charm,” The girl quipped, earning a chuckle from both boys.
Draco smirked. “Brooding? You give him too much credit. He’s been brooding since we were eleven—it’s nothing new.”
“And you’ve been insufferable since we were five,” Theodore shot back smoothly.
“Touché,” Draco conceded, clearly amused.
The playful banter flowed easily between the three of them, the formalities of the ball forgotten. The girl leaned back against one of the stone pillars, letting the moment's warmth wash over her.
“So,” Draco said after a pause, looking between them with a raised eyebrow, “should I be concerned about this little partnership?”
Y/N rolled her eyes again, this time with a smirk. “You act like it's the first time seeing me and Theo together. And Please. Like I’d need your approval for anything.”
Theodore gave her an approving nod. “Now, that’s the Malfoy spirit.”
Draco held up his hands in mock surrender. “Fair enough. Just don’t forget who your favorite brother is.”
“You’re my only brother,” She deadpanned.
“Exactly.” Draco grinned before clapping Theodore on the shoulder. “Keep her out of trouble, yeah?”
Theodore smirked. “No promises.”
“I need another drink.” The young Malfoy declared, pushing off the pillar and brushing past them both. “You coming, Theo?” 
“I’ll meet you there.” He replied.
“Well, well, Nott,” Draco’s voice cut through the music and chatter like a knife, smooth and mocking. “Look at you. I thought you were planning on hiding away all night.”
Theodore narrowed his eyes at Draco but couldn’t help the slight smile that tugged at his lips.
Draco’s smirk widened, and with a dramatic flair, he stepped closer, leaning in as though to whisper a secret. “I’ll admit, I didn’t think you would be the one to sweep her off her feet, but—” He paused, giving Theodore a quick, mischievous look. “—now I’m curious. What exactly are your intentions with her, Nott?”
“My intentions are none of your business, Malfoy,” he said firmly, trying to keep his voice steady, though there was a faint warning tone underneath.
Draco’s smirk only grew, and he leaned in closer, his voice dropping to a whisper. “Just remember, Nott… if you hurt her, there will be consequences.”
It wasn’t said in a threatening tone, but something in Draco’s eyes—a glint of seriousness beneath the teasing mask—made Theodore freeze.
Draco was always fiercely protective of the people he cared about, and Y/N, as his sister, was no exception.
Theodore raised an eyebrow, meeting Draco’s gaze squarely. “You’re really going to try to intimidate me over Y/N, of all people?” He tried to stay composed.
Draco chuckled, straightening up and folding his arms. “I’m just making sure you know the stakes, mate,” he said nonchalantly, though his eyes glimmered with a challenge. “You can be as charming as you like, but don’t forget who you’re dealing with.”
Theodore fought back a smile. “You always take things so seriously, Draco.”
Draco shrugged casually, but the glint in his eyes never faded. “Someone has to keep you in line.”
Before Theodore could respond, Draco gave him a quick, knowing glance and clapped him on the shoulder with an exaggerated show of camaraderie. “Don’t worry, I’ll leave you to your… affairs with my sister. Just don’t mess it up, all right?”
Theodore stared after Draco as he moved through the crowd, the playful tension still hanging in the air. His heart was still pounding slightly from the exchange.
Draco might have been joking, but his words also revealed truth. Theodore wasn’t sure how to navigate the complex feelings he had for Y/N—especially now, when it seemed like the whole world, Draco included, had an opinion on the matter.
Still, a small part of him couldn’t help but feel a little more determined. He wouldn’t let Draco’s teasing—or anyone else’s—stand in the way of what he and Y/N were building together.
As the music swelled and couples swirled around him, Theodore glanced over at Y/N from across the room. She was talking to Pansy again, her expression bright.
He wasn’t going to mess this up, not with her.
With a final glance at Draco, who was now lost in conversation with Blaise, Theodore squared his shoulders and approached Y/N.
He wasn’t going to let anything, or anyone, stop him from finally going after what he wanted.
゚•┈୨♡୧┈• 。゚。゚•┈୨♡୧┈• 。゚。゚•┈୨♡୧┈• 。゚
The Yule Ball had faded into the background as Theodore and Y/N found themselves alone in a quiet, secluded room. The soft crackle of the fire filled the silence as Y/N sat across from him, her expression calm, but there was an undeniable tension in the air. The kind that made everything feel more intense, more real.
Theodore’s fingers brushed against the edge of his glass, his thoughts a whirlwind. He hadn’t planned for this. He hadn’t expected to say anything at all, but now, in the quiet room, with Y/N’s gaze steady, the words that had been stuck inside him for so long seemed to burst free, unavoidable.
“Y/N,” he began, his voice quieter than he intended. He cleared his throat, trying to steady himself. “I… I need to say something.”
The girl looked at him, her brow furrowing slightly, her curiosity piqued. “What’s on your mind?”
Theodore swallowed hard, his chest tight. This was harder than anything he had ever done, but it felt like it would eat him up from the inside if he didn't say it now.
“I’ve been trying to ignore it. Trying to tell myself that it’s not a big deal,” he confessed, looking down at his hands for a moment before meeting her gaze again. “But I can’t anymore. I’ve… I’ve fallen for you, Y/N. I think I’ve been in love with you for a while now.”
The words hung in the air, heavy with the weight of truth. Theodore held his breath, waiting for her reaction. His stomach twisted with uncertainty.
What if she didn’t feel the same?
What if he had ruined everything?
The girl didn’t say anything at first. She just watched him, her expression unreadable. Her eyes were soft, though, and her lips parted as if she were about to speak but held back.
Theodore’s heart beat wildly, and his palms suddenly clammy.
“You don’t have to say anything, Y/N,” he rushed to add, his voice shaky. “I just… I needed you to know. I didn’t want to keep it hidden anymore.”
The girl’s gaze softened even more, and she took a small step toward him, closing the distance between them. The firelight reflected in her eyes, making them look even brighter.
Then, finally, she spoke, her voice low and steady.
“Theo,” she said softly, his name like a gentle caress. “I’ve known. I’ve known for a long time.”
Theodore froze, his breath catching in his throat. “What?”
Y/N smiled faintly, a kind of tenderness in her expression that made his heart ache in the best way. “I’ve known. I think I’ve always known. I just… didn’t want to rush you. I wanted you to figure it out in your own time.”
Theodore’s mind raced, processing her words.
She knew? She had known all along?
It was almost too much to take in, but simultaneously, it was like the weight in his chest lifted a little. She hadn’t pushed him away, hadn’t turned him down.
“So… you…” He trailed off, struggling to find the words. “You feel the same?”
The young Malfoy nodded, her smile softening into something more knowing. “I do. I’ve felt the same way for a while now.”
Relief flooded through Theodore, overwhelming him in the best way possible. He couldn’t help but smile back, the tension in his body melting away. He hadn’t expected it to be this easy, this… perfect.
“I didn’t know what to say,” he admitted, his voice a little more relaxed now, the uncertainty slowly fading. “I’ve never been good at this. Saying how I feel.”
“I know,” The girl said, her voice full of understanding. “But you don’t have to be perfect, Theo. You just need to be you. That’s all I’ve ever wanted.”
Theodore chuckled softly, feeling lighter than he had in ages. “I’m not sure I can be anything else.”
She reached out then, her fingers brushing against his, sending a jolt of warmth through him.
He looked at her, his heart pounding again, but this time in excitement rather than fear.
“You don’t have to,” Y/N whispered, leaning closer, her gaze never leaving his. “You’re exactly what I want.”
Without a word, he closed the gap between them, his hands reaching for her, pulling her into him. Her lips met his with a sudden urgency, a kiss that was more than just an exploration. It was a release, a culmination of everything that had been building between them for so long.
Y/N’s hands moved to his chest, fingers trembling against the fabric of his shirt as she pulled him closer, her lips parting slightly, deepening the kiss. Theodore responded without hesitation, his hands moving to her waist, drawing her against him until they were pressed so close he could feel the quick beat of her heart beneath her ribcage.
The firelight danced across their faces, casting a warm, golden glow as they kissed, the world outside this moment disappearing entirely. It was as if they were alone in the world, the only two people who mattered.
Theodore’s head swam with the feeling of her lips on his, the way her body seemed to fit perfectly against his like they had always been meant to be this way.
Y/N’s fingers slid into his hair, pulling him closer, her breath coming faster. He could feel the heat radiating off her skin, the tension between them giving way to something raw and real.
Every touch, every kiss, seemed to ignite something inside of him—something he couldn’t contain, something that had been building for months, years, even finally spilling over.
When they finally pulled away, their breaths were ragged, their faces flushed. Theodore’s chest rose and fell with each breath, his pulse racing in his ears. Y/N’s eyes were wide, her lips swollen from their kiss, and a soft smile played at the corners of her mouth.
“I’ve been waiting for this,” she said, her voice soft but full of affection. “I think we both were.”
Theodore smiled back, feeling like he had just found a piece of himself he never knew was missing. “I think I’ve always known, too,” he said, his voice thick with emotion. “I just had to figure it out.”
The girl chuckled lightly, her hand still resting in his. “Well, I’m glad you did. Because I’ve never been more certain of anything.”
Theodore’s heart skipped a beat. He had never felt more seen, more understood in his life. Everything that had been building inside him, all the uncertainty, the fear of rejection—suddenly, it didn’t matter. She was here with him, and that was all that mattered.
He leaned forward again, this time more slowly, savoring the moment. As their lips met again, it was different—deeper, more intense.
This time, it wasn’t just the thrill of a new kiss. It was the recognition of something real they had both been waiting for. The kiss wasn't just about passion; it was about connection, about sharing something growing between them for longer than either of them realized.
As they broke apart again, they stayed close, their foreheads resting against each other, their breathing still heavy. Theodore's hand reached her cheek, his thumb gently brushing over her skin.
"I don't want this moment to end," he whispered, his voice barely audible, as if speaking too loudly would shatter the peace that had settled over them.
Y/N's eyes met his, and she smiled softly, her fingers curling around his. "It doesn't have to end, Theo," she murmured. "We're just getting started."
And in that moment, Theodore realized that everything had changed. His soft spot for Y/N Malfoy was something deeper than he could have ever anticipated.
They had crossed a line together, but this was just the beginning.
144 notes · View notes
achromatophoric · 2 days ago
Text
At the climax of a series of misunderstandings of epic proportions, a furious Wednesday faces off with an equally enraged Enid. Their eyes meet and, in unison, they begin to shout.
Wednesday: I am an utter fool for deluding myself into even thinking you could ever return my wretched feelings!
Enid: *simultaneously* WHY?! Why can’t you just LOVE me, like I love YOU?! After everything we’ve been through!
Enid/Wednesday: *stunned silence*
Enid/Wednesday: What? / Pardon?
Enid/Wednesday:
Enid/Wednesday: Return your feelings? / You love me?
Enid/Wednesday:
Enid/Wednesday: You go first.
Wednesday: *scowls and gestures for Enid to speak*
Enid: You have feelings for me?
Wednesday: *briefly glances away*
Wednesday: I… do. My chest is naught but a wound agape and empty, rent asunder by your vulgar charms…
Wednesday: *bows head* … for you have long since stolen my besotted heart.
Enid: *obvious confusion*
Enid: Wait, I don’t get— But she told me you two were—
Bloodied nails rake through pink and blue hair as Enid chokes out a tight scream of frustration.
Enid: *points at Wednesday* The bitch who’s been all over you. Amanda. What about HER?
Wednesday: Buckman? An annoyance from childhood, prone to boasting and exaggeration. Nothing more.
Enid: *wets lips* Uh… oh. Really? Um. Okay.
Enid/Wednesday: *awkward pause*
Wednesday: *hesitantly* So you… love me?
Enid: *reddens* Y-Yes. Totes. Like so crazy much that I can’t even.
Wednesday: And what of that contemptible wolf? Your— *spits in disgust* —betrothed.
Enid: How did you— *groans* Moon above, I told that dumbass to keep his mouth shut!
Wednesday: *expression darkens* So you intended to keep it a secret.
Enid: What? NO! No, it’s not— It wasn’t a secret!
Wednesday: *expression darkens further*
Enid: Shit. I mean that it’s NOT true!
Wednesday: Go on.
Enid: *anxiously* Look, it was all an act. He was supposed to just help get my mom off my back, but then he got freaking weird about it.
Wednesday: *pensive expression* I… see.
Enid: I’m really sorry, Willa. I should have told you. It was such a dumb idea, but he offered to help and I just— My mom was being so—
Wednesday: *holds up a blood-stained hand* Enid, you need not explain yourself further. I understand. You were under duress—
Wednesday: *grits teeth* —and that miserable wretch took advantage of your state. An unforgivable act that he can no longer repeat.
Enid: *covers her face and whines* Oh my moon, this was such a mess.
Wednesday: *crosses the distance to Enid* That may be undeniable, but so are my feelings for you.
Lowering her hands, Enid finds herself gazing into a face alight with adoration. She can’t help but gasp when cool arms encircle her.
Enid: Oh gosh. Oh gosh oh gosh! You like me. You LIKE me.
Wednesday: Enid, you do me a disservice. I do not merely like you. I would worship you… should you allow it.
Enid: *wraps Wednesday in a crushing hug* Of course I do! Like O M G. You don’t even know how much I love you!
The two share in a much-desired embrace, mirroring their hug from that fateful night. The scene would be innocuously romantic, were it not for the hints of gore.
Enid:
Enid: Hey, um… Willa?
Wednesday: Mm?
Enid: Are you wearing a necklace of teeth?
Wednesday:
Wednesday: There are claws a well.
Enid: Oh. Okay.
Enid:
Enid: *worriedly* Are uh… are those maybe like… werewolf teeth and claws?
Wednesday: 😒
Wednesday: Is that a blonde scalp peeking out of your pocket—
Enid: 😬
Wednesday: —woven through with what appears to be fashionably manicured human fingernails and toe-mmph!
Enid: *silences Wednesday with an impassioned kiss*
Wednesday: *kissed senseless*
Enid/Wednesday: 🩷🖤
133 notes · View notes
defectivevillain · 20 hours ago
Text
unexpected patronage
pairing: Logan/Wade/Reader
The reader’s pronouns are he/him and he’s masculine intended. Otherwise, race is ambiguous and no physical descriptors are used.
summary: Wade pokes you and you flinch as his finger finds a hole in your shirt, from where Wolverine had grabbed you moments ago. “Sheesh, you practically hole-punched him, pookie.” He says to the man, who growls disapprovingly at the nickname.
You’re a bartender working the graveyard shift at Joe’s Diner. You’ve seen some strange people, but these two guys are by far the strangest…
word count: 3.8k | ao3 version
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Warnings: canon-typical blood/violence/suggestive humor. Dogpool is referred to with it/its pronouns until the reader warms up to her. Expect lots of pet names and sexual humor, because it’s Wade.
author's notes: This fic is focused on Reader/Wade/Logan, and it’s explicitly romantic (nothing past making out). I know, this is rare for me. lol.
Also I know virtually nothing about the Deadpool & Wolverine movie, so this will be canon non-compliant. We’re going to pretend Joe’s Diner is just in NYC, lol.
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You’ve been a bartender at Joe’s Diner for a bit now. Since you work the graveyard shift, you grow used to seeing a variety of people. Out of all the unique personalities and strange people you’ve met across the past few months, Wade takes the cake. 
The first few times you see him, he’s wearing a hood over his head, sun glasses, and a face mask. You promptly told him he looked very suspicious, to which he responded that it was ‘just his charm’. You had rolled your eyes and served him the drinks he wanted, figuring he didn’t want conversation. Contrary to your expectations, the guy is crazy talkative—quickly introducing himself as Wade before proceeding to talk your ear off. You would be annoyed, but honestly, his chatter is entertaining and it helps the time pass. 
If you thought Wade’s first outfit was weird, what he wears next time is far weirder. He’s outfitted with some sort of red spandex jumpsuit, with katanas strapped to his back and combat boots. He looks positively ridiculous, but, this is New York City after all. You settle for just raising a brow at him. He asks for his typical drink and, after some cajoling, admits that he’s a mercenary by the name of Deadpool. You don’t really have anything to do with that information, so you just shrug it off and continue serving him until he leaves an hour later. 
From then, Wade makes sporadic visits. The most notable one starts just as any other. It’s about one thirty in the morning, and the bar is quiet. You’ve been serving a gruff-looking guy for about an hour now, and you’re beginning to think you should cut him off. Before you can do that, you hear Wade’s voice. 
“Hey, baby!” He greets you. You blink at the pet name, secretly a bit flustered but not showing it. Wade’s just like that. 
“Hi, Wade.” You greet him, a small smile on your face. He’s wearing his suit, which hides his facial expressions. His voice sounds happy, though. 
Wade sidles up to the bar, before turning to face the guy you’ve been serving drinks to. “I’m gonna need you to come with me right now.” He says ominously. You blink in surprise, your heart jumping in your chest a bit at the rather demanding tone in his voice. 
“Look, lady.” The guy huffs. He spares him a glance, before looking back down at his drink. “I’m not interested.”
You pay a glance at Wade, who seems annoyed. Feeling strangely sympathetic, you try to help him out a bit. Why you do it, you’re not entirely sure. He can defend himself—and probably kick the guy’s ass. But still, you’re speaking before you can get yourself to stop. “That’s just Wade,” you hear yourself explaining to the other guy. “He’s a good guy, he won’t hurt you. Unless you give him reason to.” You blink. 
The guy just huffs, clearly uninterested.
“I tried, Wade.” You shrug. At least you can say you tried, and you won’t have to agonize over your silence.  
“And I appreciate that, sweetheart.” Deadpool says sincerely, before shaking his head. “Even your handsome face can’t convince him… The guy’s busted.”
You start to tune out their conversation after that, as they exchange verbal blows and insults. Wade seems to be getting more irritated with each passing second, and you know that things will escalate soon if you don’t do something. 
You had planned on cutting the guy off, but he motions for you to give him another drink. You know it’s not the best idea, but you find yourself sliding another one over to him before you can contemplate the consequences. He promptly downs it in one go. You think you make eye contact with Wade and you look at the glass pointedly. 
“Ah!” He says aloud. You resist the urge to facepalm, instead sneaking glances at the guy. It doesn’t take long for him to pass out and hit the floor. You grimace at the loud sound of his collision with the ground, and hope it wasn’t painful. Then again, the guy seemed pretty muscular—maybe he’ll be fine? 
“What’d you put in that thing?” Wade asks incredulously, looking at the empty glass. “Horse tranquilizer? Glitter glue?” You laugh at the latter remark. Glitter glue? Ridiculous, honestly.
“It was just liquor.” You huff, leaning over the counter slightly and paying the guy a glance. He’s unconscious, but breathing. You look back up at Wade. “He’s been drinking all night; I figured it would only be a matter of time.” 
“I’m speechless.” He says, then continues speaking. You chuckle at the irony. Wade is never truly speechless. “Completely speechless. You know, you make quite the accomplice.”
There’s a beat of silence. “What do you plan to do with him, exactly?” You trail off, feeling a little guilty. Maybe you should’ve asked that question a bit earlier. Ah well. It’s too late for that now. Besides, you trust Wade. He’s not a bad guy. He likely needs him for his mercenary/vigilante stuff. 
Wade’s answer confirms your suspicions. “Oh, I just need his help with something,” Deadpool says vaguely. He considers the guy for a moment. “Besides, he’s Wolverine. He’ll be just fine.”
Your eyes widen. “Oh, that’s Wolverine? Shit.” To think the heavy drinker at your bar was Wolverine… You shake your head in disbelief.
“Yeah!” Wade confirms. “You just knocked out the mighty Wolverine! Not many people can say that.” You grimace, not feeling particularly proud of that fact. 
There are a few seconds of silence before Wade sighs. “Well, I’d love to stay and chat, but I gotta get going.” He almost sounds regretful. 
“Have fun.” You say, raising a brow at the ease with which Deadpool tosses him over his shoulder. “Don’t die.”
“I won’t.” He promises, sending you another mock-salute. Then he stumbles for a second. “Damn, this guy’s heavy. Gotta go; adios!” He’s gone in the blink of an eye. You stare at the front doors for a long moment, before rubbing your eyes roughly and half-expecting to wake up in your bed again. That felt like a dream sequence. Unfortunately for you, it seemed to be reality. 
Wade returns with Wolverine a few mornings later. How do you find that out, exactly? Well, you’re stepping out of the break room and going to the bar when you see Wolverine rummaging through the cabinets. He very nearly rips the door off of the refrigerator and you quickly intervene. 
“What are you doing?” You ask, staring at him in disbelief. “Get out from behind the bar.” You order. 
Wolverine growls, but obeys you and settles in one of the seats. “I need a drink,” he says gruffly. 
“Then just say that, dumbass.” You chastise him. He blinks at you in poorly-concealed disbelief, as if surprised you’ve insulted him. You get the feeling he doesn’t get spoken to like that often. Oops. “What do you want?” You ask. He confirms he wants his usual. 
You prepare his drink and watch as he takes a sip. “Wade finally won you over, huh?” You finally manage to ask, unable to hide your curiosity any longer. Wolverine blinks. You look pointedly over to where Deadpool is sitting, pretending not to eavesdrop. 
Wolverine scoffs. “No.”
“You sure?” You ask. “He seems to think you did.” You send a wave to Wade and he waves back, waggling his fingers excitedly. He looks about as energetic as a little kid hopped up on sugar. It’s kind of sweet. 
“No.” Wolverine repeats. 
You take one look at the guy, grumpy and cranky, and come to a quick decision. “You’re cute.” You huff amusedly. He puts on a cold and uncaring facade, but it’s clear he isn’t actually like that. Deep beneath those layers of muscle, there’s a heart.
It’s as if you insulted him. Every muscle in his body seems to stiffen. He’s tightly wound and tense. “What did you just say?” Wolverine demands, aggravated. 
If you had even an ounce of self-preservation, you’d retract the remark. But it’s nearing three in the morning now, and you’re too tired to care. “I said ‘you’re cute’,” you repeat casually. “Y’know, the whole growly act-” 
Suddenly his claws are in your shirt collar and he’s dragging you forward, bringing you far too close to him and rendering the bar counter between you inconsequential. You wince as his breath hits your neck. “I am not cute.” He growls.
“Okay.” You say, if only to placate him. Truthfully, you think his little growly act is quite cute. But it’s clear he doesn’t think so—and objects to the description. 
Fortunately, before he can put his claws through your throat and end your life, Wade is intervening. “Hey, hands off, werewolf!” He huffs. “He’s the only capable bartender in this place.” 
“Thanks, Wade; I’m flattered.” You respond, hoping Wolverine doesn’t notice how fast your heart is racing. You put your hand on Wolverine’s and attempt to get him to release his grip. He stares at you for a long moment, as if reminding you that he has the control in the situation. You just stare back, unimpressed. He finally releases his grip. 
“You should be flattered, sweet cheeks.” Wade responds, before getting up from the booth and heading over to the bar. He pokes your shirt and you flinch as his finger finds a hole in your shirt. “Sheesh, you practically hole-punched him, pookie.” Wolverine growls at the nickname, clearly disapproving. 
You follow Wade’s gaze to the top of your shirt, where there are puncture marks from Wolverine’s claws. “Aw, seriously?” You complain. Wade’s right—your shirt does look like it was hole-punched. It looks a bit ridiculous. “I liked this shirt.”
“Get another one.” Wolverine says blankly. 
You glare at him. He glares back. 
Wade is practically bouncing on his heels as he looks between you, either oblivious or uncaring of the tension between the two of you. “Look at us,” He says, “The perfect team. The brains, the brawn, and the beauty.” He points to himself, then Wolverine, then you. 
“You think you’re the brains?” You hear yourself say sarcastically before you can stop yourself. Wade gasps in mock-offense. Wolverine huffs in amusement. Deadpool looks between the two of you for several moments, turning his head back and forth. 
“What.” Wolverine eventually demands, annoyed with his constant back-and-forth motion. 
“I don’t like this little duo,” Wade frowns. At least, you imagine he’s frowning underneath the mask. 
“It’s okay, Wade,” you reassure him teasingly. “You can be the beauty, it fits you better.” And you certainly don’t feel like the beauty of this group anyways. 
“Aw, you’re making me blush.” Wade says, bringing his hands to his cheeks. 
“I’m not a part of this,” you feel the need to clarify. They have superpowers, and they’re likely doing something rather important. You’d… rather not join them. You don’t have combat abilities, regeneration, sharpened claws… or anything like that. “But I’ll serve you drinks when it’s all over. When you’re done with… whatever you’re doing.” You offer. Supposedly they’re going on some sort of mission to save the world… Blah blah blah. You don’t know the specifics and you’re grateful for that. 
Wolverine huffs at your comment. “I’m going to need one.” He says. 
“More than one; don’t lie to yourself, buddy.” Deadpool teases. He slaps a hand on the guy’s shoulder in a friendly gesture; Wolverine immediately shoves him off. You resist the urge to laugh, instead pouring him another drink when he asks.
You don’t see Wade or Wolverine for several days. You’re a bit worried, truthfully—but you know they likely have far better things to do than spend time here with you, in the wee hours of the morning. You can only hope they’re not too exhausted.
Finally, after far too long, the front doors open one morning to reveal familiar red and yellow costumes. You look at the two superhumans for a moment, taking in the blood splattered across their tattered clothes and the dark circles under their eyes. They look absolutely exhausted. There’s a dog in a matching red spandex suit at Wade’s ankles; and Wolverine looks less pissed than usual, which is admittedly concerning. What makes you laugh, though, is the state of their tattered uniforms. Wade’s suit is wrecked and Wolverine is wearing a strange mask with two protruding horns. You greet the two of them, before eventually giving in and laughing at the sheer state they’re in. 
“What.” Wolverine demands, taking a seat at the bar. Wade follows his lead, taking the seat next to him. Wolverine doesn’t so much as put up a fight—a clear indication of his fatigue. 
“Sorry.” You say, not feeling particularly apologetic as you struggle to suppress more laughter. You slide him his drink. “It’s just hard to take you seriously wearing that mask.” 
Wade cackles. “You’re not much better, Wade.” You say with a slight smile, getting his drink for him. “You look like a broken fire hydrant.”
It’s Wolverine’s turn to look amused. “You do.” He agrees. 
“Shut up!” Wade huffs defensively. 
“It’s okay, Wade.” You saw with faux concern. Your eyes fall to the dog that came in with him. “Just watch out for your dog; it’ll probably pee on you.” Wolverine snickers. 
“Dogpool!” Wade remarks, as if just remembering the animal’s existence. You roll your eyes, unsurprised that the dog has slipped his attention. He seems like the type to forget he has a pet. 
“Wade, don’t put your dog on the bar counter-” You hiss. But it’s too late—Wade has picked up the dirty dog and placed it on the bar counter, where people drink and eat. Immune to your stress, the dog runs about in small circles, before deciding to scare the shit out of you by jumping right at you. 
You’re forced to catch it. You hold it at a distance, if only because its fur looks matted, dirty, and splattered with the blood of this duo’s enemies. You hold the dog at arm’s length, looking at Wade expectantly. But he’s just laughing his ass off, because of course he is. You hold the dog out to Logan next, but he just shakes his head. Sighing, you set it down on the ground. It’ll lose interest soon. 
But the dog—Dogpool, you remind yourself, unable to take the name seriously—only yips and runs between your legs, before trying to climb up one of them and panting as it stares up at you. “Wade.” You say. “Care to explain why your dog is humping my leg?”
“Aw, she’s just like her father,” Wade coos. You’re sputtering at the remark. “C’mere baby,” Wade says, rounding the bar and holding his arms out to her. 
Dogpool doesn’t even seem to notice him, instead wagging her tail as she still claws at your leg and tries to climb you. 
“Come to daddy, come on.” Wade urges her, making little noises as he beckons her closer. You grimace as she stays near you. Wade visibly deflates. “You’ve stolen my dog’s heart! How dare you?! 
As if you have any control over the situation. But secretly, the longer you look at the dog, the more endearing she becomes. She’s kind of cute. Just a little. Emboldened by Wade’s frustration, you pick up the dog and hold her in your arms. Wade pretends to cry, then attempts to make grabby-hands and get you to give her over.  
You wince as she promptly licks your face with her absurdly long tongue. “Okay, no, never mind-” You quickly back out, placing her down on the counter again. It’s not the ideal place for her, but at least she won’t attempt to coat you in slobber again. 
“Wow, Deadpool is in love with you.” Wade comments, seemingly less bothered now. Then he seems to realize what he just said and starts stammering. “I meant Dogpool. Not Deadpool. That’s me.” You regret the fact that he’s wearing his mask, because you swear it almost sounds like he’s flustered. 
Wolverine looks rather entertained by this conversation. “It’s an alternate version of yourself, and it still likes him better.” He points out. Wade isn’t happy with that comment; Wolverine has a wry smile on his face. “Go to your father.” He then says, tapping the dog lightly and directing her to Wade. She runs up to him and yips excitedly. 
“Aw, you know I can never stay mad at you, honey.” Wade says to the dog, making kissing sounds. You watch the display with amusement, thankful the dog has seemingly forgotten about you. You don’t realize you’re smiling until you feel Wolverine’s gaze burning into the side of your face. 
You blink and turn to him. “Want another drink, Wolverine?” You ask him, a bit restless under the weight of his gaze. 
“Not on this counter.” Wolverine huffs. Then he straightens. “And it’s Logan.”
“Fair enough.” You acquiesce with a smile. Dogpool did just run all over it. “Logan.” You correct yourself. He nods. You decide to focus your attention on cleaning the counter, so you don’t have to think about the look in his eyes as you said his name. 
In the coming weeks, Wade and Logan visit frequently. They always make sure to sit at the bar when you’re working, talking to you and saving you from your boredom. It’s nice to see them slowly return to their normal, well-rested selves. You have to admit: you were a bit worried about them when they showed up with blood splattered across their costumes a while ago.  
Idly, you have to wonder why they still keep visiting you. Sure, you serve drinks—but you work at ungodly hours, and the liquor served here certainly isn’t anything special. It’s a bit cheaper, you suppose. But overall, there are no overwhelming qualities about Joe’s Diner that would make you want to choose it over a regular bar. 
That particular mystery remains unsolved for a while, until one day after hours, when Wade strolls in purposefully—Logan following at his heels. Wade makes a beeline for the bar stool nearest where you’re standing and takes a seat, looking at you pointedly. He isn’t wearing his mask, allowing you to see the intensity of his gaze. He studies you for a long moment. 
Wade seems uncharacteristically nervous and jittery. His fingers tap restlessly against the counter. His leg is bouncing and his gaze can’t seem to settle on any one thing for too long. “I like you,” he eventually says, so quietly that you almost convince yourself you misheard. “Like, like you, like you.”
“You had weeks to prepare, and that’s what you came up with?” Logan says snarkily, clearly unimpressed. He stands a short distance away with his arms crossed over his chest. 
“He likes you too, but he’s too grouchy to admit it.” Wade says for Logan; Logan promptly claws him in the arm. “Ow.” Wade says. The remark seems to be born out of instinct, rather than genuine pain. He sends Wolverine an inscrutable look over his shoulder before returning his attention to you. 
“Well, I like you like you too,” you answer after a few seconds, a small smile on your face. “Both of you. If it’s true.” You add on, because Logan doesn’t seem particularly pleased. But he also doesn’t object to Wade’s statement, so it must be true. 
“Yay!” Wade interjects, promptly leaning over the counter and kissing you excitedly. His hands find the nape of your neck and he’s tugging you into him with a fierce grin. After a few moments, he breaks away and looks behind him—all without letting his hand fall from your face. “You gonna join us, buddy?” Wade asks. 
“I’m fine here,” Logan says with a smirk.
“Perv,” Wade remarks, before turning back to you. He kisses you enthusiastically, his hands falling to the collar of your shirt. 
“Jesus, Wade, don’t throw me over the counter.” You huff when you break apart, secretly worried that he’ll drag you halfway across the room. 
“Wolfie’ll catch ya, don’t worry.” Wade says with a grin. Is that supposed to be reassuring? He keeps kissing you, nearly tugging you over the counter again. At some point, you have to actually catch yourself from falling into the surface. 
“Just- Wait.” You say, not even thinking before jumping and sliding over the counter quickly. You’re standing next to him now. “Better?” You ask. 
Wade blinks once, twice. His lips are parted in surprise. You’re starting to feel self-conscious and embarrassed when he breaks through the tense silence. “That was hot.” Wade says. You scoff disbelievingly and Wade turns to look at Logan, as if hearing him do something. “And I think Claws over there agrees.” He points out. 
Before you can even process what’s happening, Logan is standing in front of you, backing you into the bar counter and kissing you. And even through the nearly overwhelming sensations—one of his hands on your hip, the other boxing you in; the tangible weight of his muscled forearm as you grasp it—you can hear Wade cheering excitedly. It’s so stupid that you find yourself laughing, to the point where you have to take a breath. 
“Sorry, it’s just- Wade, what are you doing?” You laugh breathlessly, looking over at him. Logan’s hand remains on your hip even as he follows your gaze, glaring murderously at Wade.
“Just fanboying, don’t mind me.” He shrugs, sitting on one of the bar stools and kicking his feet. He looks very gleeful. “Y’all are so cute.” 
Logan rolls his eyes. “Get over here, Red Riding Hood.”
“Aw, then that makes you the Big Bad Wolf.” Wade remarks, skipping up to both of you. “Tumblr’s gonna eat this up. We should get T-shirts, or maybe-” Logan’s kissing him before he can continue speaking. 
You’re confident the three of you would stay there forever, if not for Dogpool’s unexpected interruption. She runs up to your legs and then jumps at Wade. Wade freezes and looks down at her with a gasp. “Her sweet virgin eyes!” He exclaims, bending down to pick her up. “Poor baby. I’m sorry you had to see that.” 
“Not sure if she’s a virgin anymore, after what she was doing to my leg earlier.” You mutter quietly, crossing your arms over your chest.
Logan overhears in his proximity and laughs. That may be the first time you’ve ever heard him express such genuine amusement. It must be a rare sight, because Wade is also looking at him in surprise. 
“So you can laugh,” Wade says, pretty much pouting. He’s still holding Dogpool in his arms, and he’s bouncing her up and down as if she’s a baby. “You don’t laugh at things I say.” He frowns. 
“Because you’re not funny.” Logan responds with a shit-eating grin. 
“Hmph.” Wade is dejected for all of ten seconds, until Dogpool promptly licks his face and you all abandon the argument to laugh.
©2025, @defectivevillain | @defectivehero, All Rights Reserved. Reblogs are greatly appreciated—just don't steal or share outside of Tumblr, please.
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endnotes:
Me: Would Deadpool say ‘adios’? @connorhasabigtip, my bestie: Yeah, he’d say it unironically because he’s a little slut. Me: *laughing my ass off*
I formatted this in between rounds of Squid Game on Roblox… and I think that’s what Wade would’ve wanted.
I looked up pictures of Joe’s Diner and was like, hm, they don’t have a bar + the counter’s too high and filled with stuff. Then I decided I didn’t care, ‘cause this is fiction. If I want to slide over a bar counter, then I’m sliding over a bar counter, physics be damned.
“It’s hard to take you seriously wearing that mask,” is a Dance Moms reference, bahaha (“Jill is yelling and screaming, and all I can think is, ‘It’s so hard to take you seriously wearing that hat.’”)
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thanks for reading! <3
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otterly-darling · 2 days ago
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First Anniversary
‘Cheers!’
They clinked their glasses together over fond smiles across the table.
‘I can’t believe it’s been a year,’ Remus sighed a nostalgic sigh. ‘It’s been- well it’s just been the best.’ He reached across the table, ‘I know I don’t say it enough, that it’s not really our thing to talk like this but-‘ he swallowed, ‘Everything we’ve done this year, the books, the late nights, it’s meant an awful lot and I was hoping that-‘
‘Well, well, well.’ The sound of the kitchen door slamming shut made them both jump. ‘Isn’t this cosy.’
‘Sirius!’ Remus stammered, ‘I thought you were out with James!’
‘I was.’ Sirius crossed his arms. ‘I missed you. So I came home. Looks like you didn’t have the same problem though does it, Remus? It didn’t take you long to replace me.’
‘Oh do shut up, Sirius.’ Regulus rolled his eyes and turned back to pick up his glass of squash. ‘Sorry, Remus, you were hoping that…?’
‘That I could borrow your unabridged copy of Moby Dick,’ Remus mumbled, still sounding guilty. ‘I dropped mine in the bath. Sirius, love, I can explain!’
Sirius ignored him. ‘Why are you here?’ he demanded, pointing at Regulus who looked back, bored.
‘In case it had escaped your notice, brother, but I am here quite a lot of the time.’
‘Yes, but to see me! And now I come home to find you fraternising with my husband!’
‘We’re not doing anything!’ Remus rushed on to say. ‘Okay, that’s not true but you have to promise not to be upset. You’re still my absolute favourite Black brother, I swear on your arse, and you know how much I love your arse.’
Sirius gave him a shrewd look. ‘Hmm,’ he stuck his tongue out at Regulus. ‘You do love my arse. But I promise nothing,’ he added.
‘It’s our anniversary,’ Remus said quietly, getting to his feet and coming up to Sirius, uncrossing his arms so he could take his hands in his own. ‘A year ago today Regulus and I, we- we started a book club.’
Sirius gasped. ‘Without me?!’
‘Can you even read?’ Regulus started but Remus shushed him with an imploring look.
‘It means nothing, baby. It’s just for fun and-‘
‘Hey!’ Regulus stood up too, looking indignant. ‘You were just saying how much it meant to you! What was that? A lie?’
Remus paled further, ‘No! I-‘ his gaze flickered between the two brothers. ‘Reg, I didn’t mean-‘
‘So it did mean something!’ Sirius wrenched his hands free from Remus’.
‘When I suggested we read a book together and discuss it you literally told me you couldn’t think of anything more boring!’ Remus sounded desperate now.
‘Oh so I was second choice then was I?!’ Regulus crossed his arms too, mirroring his brother. ‘Well that’s just charming.’
‘Well it would have been nice to be invited to your little gatherings anyway!’ Sirius said at the same time.
Remus sat back down and thunked his head on the table. ‘I’m too old for this.’ He got up again, the chair screeching across the tile and without another word walked out the room.
Sirius and Regulus looked at one another.
‘Well that was fun!’ Sirius said brightly and uncrossed his arms. ‘You want to stay for dinner?’
‘Oo yes please!’ Regulus plonked himself down in Remus’ vacated chair and kicked his legs up on the table. ‘Should we make Remus get us takeaway?’
‘Oh definitely.’
@wolfstarmicrofic
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cherrymoonxx · 7 hours ago
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A Look in the Mirror Pick a Card:
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Come with me on a journey to see what the depths of your soul truly looks like. Who are you at your core?
Choosing a pile:
Take a moment to connect with your body. Allow yourself to really feel. Focus on your breathing and clear your mind. Choose the pile that calls out to you.
Pile 1:
Welcome, pile 1!
Plunged into the depths of the sea, surrounded by silence. Darkness… Emerging from these depths, slowly wading through the waves.
My pile ones, you are resilient. Your mind and your ambition are your gifts. You are meant to be seen and heard by the world. You have the ability to leave a lasting impact on others but, for some of you, the world has not been kind. Your light may have been dimmed due to the harshness of reality. You may have been discouraged from pursing your passions, from following your dreams, or just from dreaming in general. You may have given up hope that life will be anything than what it is now: cold, dark, and unforgiving.
For some of you, you may have also felt like an outsider looking in. Almost as if the world was passing you by, with everyone experiencing things you weren’t able to. As if life is happening to everyone else but you. “When will it be my turn?” “Am I doing the right thing?” “Why does everyone else seem to be so well off but I’m still in the same place?” You ask yourself these types of questions often, wondering when your life will pick up and when things will change.
My dearest pile ones, I’m here to tell you that though the world has been unkind and things have been going at a slower pace than you would like, this is not the end. Life has so many blessings to bring you. The world needs people like you. Each and every one of you are special. It won’t be long before the fog will clear and the world will shift in your favor. The darkness will no longer hold you, and instead, you will be guided by the light. Life will no longer feel heavy for you. And it is then, you will truly feel at peace to live your life exactly the way you desire. And just know, the world is ready to experience your greatness.
Pile 2:
Welcome pile 2!
A peaceful snowy evening. Fluffy blankets of snow settling into the quiet of the night. Cozy sweaters, hot chocolate… Catching snowflakes on your tongue. Rosy cheeks. A childlike wonder that follows you forever.
My sweet, sweet pile two, you are the dreamers of the world. The kind that never stops daydreaming. The sky is only the beginning for you! You have this wonderful and truly beautiful ability to see the world through a lens that not many can. You are bright eyed and are not afraid to see the beauty of the world, the beauty that many often overlook. You are sunshine incarnate. The physical embodiment of joy and wonder. You have an innate curiosity that allows you to dream and see beyond the mundane.
Though, life is not always rainbows and butterflies. For some of you, you may have felt misunderstood. Perhaps people may have misjudged you because of the way you view the world and the way you choose to express yourself. Others may feel triggered by your ability to live your authentic truth and that manifests in the form of them harshly judging you. But their nasty words and opinions are a reflection of themselves and not you. Jealousy eats away at the soul. Don’t let these people stop you from living your truth.
At your core, you are a guiding light for others… your curiosity brings innovation and perhaps even entertainment. You could be artists, writers, actors, singers, etc. You bring upon creation into this world. You’re meant to create and express your mind. Pour yourself into these creative pursuits and your heart and soul will sing songs of joy. At your core, you are a creator. The world is in need of your creativity.
Pile 3:
Welcome pile 3!
Witty remarks, charming eyes… enveloping others with your words. Heated whispers with the promise to capture your heart by the end of the night.
My lovely pile three, you are the charmers. The ones who know just what to say to and how to say it. Your presence is loved by many because of your innate ability to make people feel safe and comfortable. You may not always realize it, but you are someone that people genuinely like to be around. People may gravitate towards you because you are nonjudgmental. You take everyone as they come and love them as they are. You never ask anyone to be anything other than themselves. And you love people for it. You love learning about others and getting to know people. You’re a real people person, whether you claim to be or not.
At your core, you just want to help. You want to be seen as a helping hand for others because people actually mean so much to you. Despite how others may view you, you know deep down that your truest desire is pure. Your intentions are to aid others when they’re in need. You love to feel needed and helpful. You desire to be someone that people can rely on no matter what. And you truly are. You’re a pillar of support. No one else is doing it like you! You’re one of a kind. A heart as pure as yours is rare to find.
As pure as your heart is, that’s not to say you don’t have a bit of a mischievous side. You have your moments in which you indulge in your witty banter and sarcastic comments. You may tend to seek those that can keep up with your wittiness. It keeps things interesting for you. And who doesn’t love a bit of banter!
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Thank you all for reading! This is my first pick a card, but hopefully not my last! This went a bit different than I expected it to but it was fun reading for you all. I hope this resonates with you guys.
Please let me know what you guys think! 💕
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msriri030 · 3 days ago
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Husband! Bob x Spouse Reader
cw: light angst
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You glared at your ex-husband, Bob Velseb, standing at your doorway with a bag of fresh meat that all but screamed his latest gruesome exploits. It wasn’t hard to connect the dots—people had been going missing again.
Bob’s lips curled into a disarming smile, his southern drawl honeyed and deliberate. “I’m home, darlin’. Why don’t I whip up something’ nice' for you and the girls? Just like old times.”
Your hands clenched into fists as a wave of anger surged through you. Did he really think you’d let him stroll back into your life after disappearing when your now three-year-old daughter was only two months old? Fat chance.
He had always been a storm of chaos, leaving destruction in his wake, but this time it wasn’t just about you. Your two daughters, peacefully asleep upstairs, were your everything. You weren’t going to let Bob ruin the stability and safety you’d fought so hard to build.
“No,” you growled, stepping into the doorway to block his path. “You can fuck off and leave the girls out of this.”
Bob’s smile faltered slightly as you jabbed a finger toward the bag in his hand. “And take that mess with you. The girls believe their father is six feet under, and I intend to keep it that way.”
His eyes darkened for a moment, the smile on his face twisting into something colder, more dangerous. But you held your ground, your protective instincts blazing brighter than any fear he could try to stir in you. 
“Six feet under, huh?” he drawled, his southern accent dripping with a charm that felt as fake as the smile plastered on his face. “Well, darlin’, ain’t that somethin’? Here I am, back from the grave, just to see my family. Reckon that makes me a ghost, doesn't it?”
You stepped closer, blocking the doorway entirely, your body a shield between him and the peaceful home behind you. Your heart raced, but you didn’t dare let it show. Bob thrived on fear, and you weren’t about to give him the satisfaction.
“Whatever sick game you’re playing, it ends here,” you spat, your voice low but resolute. “You don’t get to just show up after all these years and act like nothing happened. The girls don’t need you, Bob. We don’t need you.”
Bob chuckled darkly, the deep rumble of his laugh sending a shiver down your spine. “Oh, darlin’, you wound me,” he drawled, his tone laced with mock sincerity. “I’ve been thinkin’ about y’all this whole time, wonderin’ how my little girls are growin’ up. Don’t you think they deserve to know their daddy?”
“Wound you? You—" Your voice faltered as your hands balled into fists at your sides. You exhaled sharply, forcing yourself to steady your trembling voice. “Their daddy is the man who’s been there for them—the one who raised them. Not the one who ran off and left us to pick up the pieces without warning! So no, Bob. They don’t need to know you. Not now. Not ever… I’m sorry.”
Bob’s smirk faded slightly, a flicker of something unreadable crossing his face. But before he could respond, you continued, your voice breaking with raw emotion.
“Did you even think about how your disappearing act would affect them?” Your eyes filled with tears, and you blinked quickly, refusing to let them fall. “They asked for you day and night, Bob. Day and night. And I—"
You choked on the words, your pain spilling out in each syllable as you met his gaze. Bob’s frown deepened, his confident demeanor faltering as guilt flickered in his eyes.
For a moment, just a moment, the mask slipped, and he looked almost human like when you first met. Then, as if compelled by something primal, Bob suddenly moved toward you, his steps quick and purposeful. The air between you grew tense, and your breath hitched as his intentions became unclear.
You closed your eyes, bracing for the worst, your heart pounding as fear gripped you. But instead of pain, you felt the unexpected warmth of his arms wrapping around you. It wasn’t rough or forceful—it was tender, almost comforting.
Your breath caught as you opened your eyes, looking up at him through a blur of tears. His expression was unreadable, a strange mixture of guilt and longing etched across his face.
“Bob…” you whispered, your voice trembling.
He leaned down slowly, pressing a soft, almost reverent kiss to your forehead. The gesture left you stunned, tears spilling freely down your cheeks. It wasn’t what you expected, not from the man who had brought so much chaos and pain into your life.
For a brief moment, you saw the man you had once loved, hidden beneath the years of betrayal and destruction. Yet, the warmth of his embrace couldn’t erase the past or the weight of his actions.
You pulled back slightly, your voice breaking as you whispered, “Bob… Please, just leave. For their sake.”
Your plea wavered with the emotions threatening to overcome you. The love you thought had long since died began to flicker, betraying your resolve. It was a dangerous ember, one that could easily ignite the uncertainty buried deep within you. Bob noticed the shift, his eyes softening as he gently cupped your cheek with his hand.
“Darlin’,” he said, his voice low and soothing, “I’ll leave if that’s what you want. But just… let me have one cup of your famous hot chocolate. Like old times, yeah? You remember?”
You felt your resolve cracking further as you unconsciously leaned into his touch, nuzzling his hand. His words carried a strange sense of nostalgia that tugged at your heart.
With a sad smile, you nodded, stepping aside to let him in. “Fine… but please, don’t make too much noise. I don’t want the girls to wake up.”
Bob stepped inside, his smile broadening as his eyes roamed the familiar surroundings. The air between you was thick with unspoken words, memories, and the weight of decisions both past and present. You led him into the kitchen, your emotions a storm of conflicted feelings, wondering if letting him in was a mistake—or if the fleeting moment of warmth was worth the risk.
When you turned to try to backtrack, to take control of the situation, the sight of Bob rooted you in place. The man who had ended lives without hesitation now stood frozen before your wall, covered with photographs of the girls. Everyday moments captured with care—birthdays, school plays, lazy afternoons at the park. His gaze, however, was fixed on one particular picture: a family drawing, childishly scrawled in crayon.
It was simple yet heartbreaking—a depiction of all four of you holding hands in a park, smiling under a bright yellow sun. Beneath the figure labeled "Mom" was you, next to two smaller figures marked "Us." But next to the towering figure meant to represent Bob, the words "My Guardian Angel" were written in wobbly letters.
Bob’s face twisted as he stared, his usual confidence crumbling into something vulnerable, raw. Guilt rippled through his expression as he clenched and unclenched his fists.
Finally, he turned to you, who stood leaning against the kitchen doorway, your arms crossed defensively as you waited for him to process whatever he was feeling.
“I guess you couldn’t really tell them their dad’s a red devil, huh?” he murmured, his voice unsteady as he finally walked toward you.
You didn’t look at him, your gaze locked on the stove as you quietly prepared the hot chocolate. “No,” you replied softly but firmly. “I can’t.” 
The silence between you two stretched, thick and heavy, broken only by the soft clinking of the spoon as you stirred the hot chocolate on the stove. Bob watched you intently, his gaze tracing every movement with a mixture of longing and regret. He had missed you—the way you moved, the way your voice filled the room. For all his selfish desires, he knew better than to say it aloud.
Your voice shattered his thoughts.
“You know, Belle—our youngest—found an old picture of you.” You smiled faintly, but the sadness in your eyes cut deeper than any words could. “She was kissing it and asking where you were. I had to remind her… you were in ‘heaven.’”
Bob’s confident demeanor faltered. He looked away, unable to meet your gaze for the first time, guilt etched into every line of his face.
You poured the steaming hot chocolate into a cup, setting it down in front of him with deliberate care. “You know what’s funny?” you continued, your voice tinged with anger and exhaustion. “I feel jealous of how much she loves you. Because I know you don’t deserve it.”
Bob flinched as if the words had physically struck him, but he stayed silent, gripping the cup as if it were the only thing grounding him.
You stared at him, your expression hardening as you leaned forward. “They buried their memories of you with love,” you said, your voice low but sharp. “Now that you’re back…”
Bob finally looked up, meeting your glare, but the weight of your next words shook him to his core.
“What do you want me to tell them? Why?” Your tone cracked with emotion, though your resolve remained unyielding. “There’s no way to revive the man they’ve idealized without killing the truth of the one who actually left.”
The room fell silent again, the tension between you two palpable, as Bob struggled to find words that didn’t exist.
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amphibiahawks321 · 6 hours ago
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[Lucifer leans her arm against the wall, smirking as she's trying to woo Y/N over]
Fem!Lucifer : Well, well.... It's not often that I find someone worthy of my attention, you've caught my eye, dear~
[Lucifer tilts her head, giving you an appraising look, as she's trying to figure out how to proceed]
[Y/N's eyes widen and extremely shocked]
M!Reader : i–i Uhh... You're THE lucifer? THE queen of hell?
[A nervous feeling immediately went over his body, unsure how to handle the sudden attention from someone with such power]
[Lucifer pauses and glances down, her confident demeanor faltering for a brief second before she clears her throat and continues]
Fem!Lucifer : Ahem.. Why yes, that's me... But I... Uh, don't let that intimidate you though gorgeous~
[She gives a small awkward smile, trying to recover from her slip]
Fem!Lucifer : I'm–Uhh just... Charmed by your... Presence, how long have you been working at this fine hotel duckling?~
M!Reader : F–For a couple of months now ma'am.... Sorry–i just can't believe I'm getting the attention from the lucifer...
Fem!Lucifer : Consider yourself lucky, I only let gentlemen of distinguished allure to get my attention~
[Y/N trying to hide his confusion, still trying to process what is happening]
M!Reader : I... I don't know how to react to this... You seemed... Never flirted with anyone before?
[Lucifer blinks, her cheeks slightly glowing yellow in embarrassment]
Fem!Lucifer : Pfftt! Whaaaat? Of course I have! It's just that maybe or possibly or perhaps it's been quite some time since I've done this–But of course I've done this, Duh!
[Lucifer let out a nervous chuckle as her cheeks start blushing brighter]
Fem!Lucifer blushing : ANYWAY! I was y'know hoping you maybe if you want and or if you have the time to spare an alluring gentleman such as yourself would love to endure some activities together!
M!Reader : ........
M!Reader : U-Uhh... S-Sure! It would be quite R-Rude if I declined such an offer from someone like you...
[Lucifer somehow proceeds to trip on her words but also starts speaking faster]
Fem!Lucifer blushing : Great! see you later–or maybe, I mean you must definitely fan change your mind if you want to of course it's not like you SHOULD but we'll see the results later!
.......
Fem!Lucifer : See Charlie, Told you Mama still has the game!
[Charlie's Mouth agape, she blinks a few times, trying to process what just happened]
.......
M!Reader blushing : Did I... Did I just–.... I... Did–Did the queen of hell just ask me out....
Angel : WOAH! What was THAT! You just got asked out by the queen of hell AKA our boss's mom, props to you! I mean, outta all the schmucks down here, you caught her eye? Either you’re super lucky or insanely cursed, Maybe both!
Husk : Well, I'll be damned... I don’t know whether to congratulate you or start planning your funeral...
.......
Few hours Later
[In lucifer's room]
Fem!Lucifer : Chuckles... Do not worry... My hands will do all the work, just try not to squirm too much~
M!Reader : W-Wait... C-Calm down your majesty...
Fem!Lucifer : Pant... I'm Close...—Aaand DONE!'
[Lucifer showing off a rubber duck wearing a monocle and a flat cap]
Fem!Lucifer : Presenting! The almighty Sir quacksworth!
M!Reader : Pant... Chuckles... Gonna be honest I was really nervous when you were using the hammer
Fem!Lucifer : Oh trust me dear, I have done this NUMEROUS times!
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persephone-writes · 15 hours ago
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A Diviner's Guide to James Potter
Chapter Eighteen: Innamorati
James Potter x Fem!Gryffindor!Reader
Chapter Seventeen ☆ Series Masterlist
Description: Presents, dueling practice, and parties, oh my!
Word Count: 8.8k
Notes: I know that drinking games are more of an american thing, but I am simply choosing to ignore this fact because they are fun and no one can tell me they aren’t 
James had made his decision and it was final. Instead of getting drunk in the RoR to celebrate his birthday, he’d go out looking for the map once again. Unwilling to hear out any arguments, you all headed back to the tower, though not without some complaints from Sirius.
In the meantime, you waited with Lily and Marlene as the others went into the common room after dinner to check if Zephyr was there. You had insisted that it was fine if he was, given that you’d have to see them all eventually, though it made little difference. Luckily, the coast was clear, allowing you all to sit by the fire and celebrate in peace.
“Does it smell like fish in the Slytherin common room?” Marlene whispered to Remus, who was sitting beside her on the sofa. 
He shrugged. “Not really, no. Why do you ask?”
“Isn’t it half under the lake?”
You laughed, even more when she turned to you in confusion, her brows furrowed. “Even if it did, I’m sure it’d be charmed to take away the smell.”
James looked up from his spot on the floor where he was playing a game of exploding snap with Peter and Sirius, his face contorted in disgust. “Even if it’s charmed, it still stinks.”
You rolled your eyes. “It could smell like roses and frankincense and you’d say it was like a pile of hot rubbish.”
“It’s hurtful you’d even suggest—”
“We’ll skip you if you don’t stop flirting,” said Sirius, his arm propped on his leg as he smiled in that evil way he seemed to save only for your torment. 
Your ears went hot, your eyes shooting over to Lily in the armchair, still engrossed in her book. She did not look up, turning a page as James said something disparaging to Sirius. He turned back around, still bickering as he flipped over his card. A pop went off, a small explosion erupting in the middle of their circle. They all jumped back, the smoke lingering in the air as they hollered. 
*⑅୨୧*⑅୨୧*⑅୨୧*⑅୨୧*⑅୨୧*⑅୨୧*⑅୨୧*⑅୨୧*⑅୨୧*⑅୨୧*
You cringed as the floorboards squeaked under your feet, the early morning sunlight a shimmering yellow where it filtered in through the diamond window panes. No one sturred in their beds, not that you could hear, anyway. You continued towards the bathroom, only half awake and wishing you were still tucked underneath your blanket. Even the day after his birthday, which should’ve been spent sleeping in after a night of fun, James wanted to practice. 
“Tomorrow, six am. If you’re not at the staircase by then, I’ll figure out a way to come up.”
“Why six? Can’t we do it at seven or—”
“Sorry, sweetheart. I have practice at eight-thirty, then I have to actually start doing some schoolwork or I’ll flunk the N.E.W.T.s. And I meant it about figuring out a way up.”
You got ready as quickly as you could, fussing far too much over the way you looked given that you were seeing a friend under entirely unromantic circumstances. Still, you couldn’t help but stare a little longer in the mirror than usual, feeling as though you needed a cold shower. 
Beating away your nerves, you brought your bag with you, James’s birthday present safe inside. This would be the only time you’d get him alone today, and the thought of giving it to him in front of the others made your stomach drop. There was something that seemed too intimate about doing it in the company of anyone else, as if it would give you away, as demure as the gesture was. It was just a birthday gift, completely ordinary. 
Just as he said, James was waiting for you at the bottom of the girl’s staircase, twirling his wand like a drummer. He had tried to teach you how to do it once, though you never got the hang of it, always sending it flying across the room. 
When he heard you coming down he smiled, raising his brows at your tired eyes. 
“It’s not that early,” he said, putting his wand back in his pocket. “I could’ve made you get up at five.”
“They call it a holiday for a reason,” you groaned, though it only made him laugh. He led you to the portrait, holding it open for you as you stepped out. “Did you have any luck last night?” you asked. 
He shook his head, his smile leaving. “No, the door was locked. We couldn’t figure out a way to break it open. I think he got Flitwick to charm it, probably thinks we’ve been rummaging around in there.”
“The one time he’s a step ahead,” you said with a bitter chuckle. 
Filch always seemed to be well aware when they were up to something, though it was rare that he was able to catch up in time. It had been dumb luck he found the map, though there was little way he’d get anything from it. As James had once explained to you, “It knows who’s safe and who isn’t. It lets you in because we like you, same with Lily and Marlene and Dorcas. If anyone else tried to crack it, they’d better be marauders at heart.”
“Isn’t Remus good with locking spells?” you asked.
“Yeah, you should try to open his trunk. The things sealed like a vault at Gringotts,” he said, his smile slowly peeking through again. “We’ll get it back, it just might take a little longer than we hoped.”
James stopped at the tapestry while you jogged down the corridor to check if anyone was coming, a routine you had quickly gotten into over the course of the week. He began to walk back and forth, glancing back at you as the door appeared. 
“Maybe we’ll try bombarda next time,” he continued, pushing it open. “I doubt they accounted for that.”
You shook your head at him, holding the strap of your bag a little tighter as you entered the RoR. You stood still for a moment, building up your courage, pulling out the small package with a deep breath. You had wrapped it in scarlet paper, a tag with James’s name carefully placed in the corner. With a sheepish smile, you handed it to him before your anxiety got the best of you. 
“Happy birthday,” you said, your heart racing as you watched him consider it. 
He lifted his face, his eyes meeting yours. “You didn’t have to get me anything.”
You knew he was being honest, though you weren’t sure you could take a back and forth with him. You tried to smile through your nerves, motioning to the present. “Nonsense. Now, open it.”
He sighed, ripping off the paper and tossing it on the floor beside him before opening the box. The joy in his expression grew as he took out the small transistor radio, experimentally pulling up the antenna. 
“It’s a muggle one,” you explained, fidgeting as he flipped it over in his hands. “My cousin is married to a muggle, and he’s a pretty good curse breaker, so he’s also decent at overriding some advanced charms. He’s been trying to figure out a way to make a radio pick up muggle stations at Hogwarts. He tried to explain how he finally did it in his letter, but I only understood about half of it,” you laughed, biting your lip as you watched his eyes widen.
“This will pick up muggle stations?” he asked, his voice on the brink of exclamation. 
You nodded, his excitement infectious. 
He quickly turned it on, raising the volume as he flipped through the stations. After a bit, he stopped on one playing an advertisement for carpet cleaner, looking more happy than anyone in the world upon hearing a sales pitch. 
“Turn it to something good,” you laughed, moving to stand beside him as you watched the needle move along the display. 
He flipped through the stations again, stopping every once in a while when the static cleared. He settled on one playing an old song, the piano slow, the singer even slower, his smooth voice pouring from the little speaker just before the trumpet came to replace it. He was singing about love, maybe his own, but it felt like it was about yours. 
James seemed to settle into something more tranquil, though not completely without his usual energy. He set the radio down, holding out his hand and wiggling his fingers as if he had any need to entice you. 
You knew you shouldn’t, that being close to him was a surefire way to get you a flustered, nervous mess, though you didn’t care. You rolled your eyes as if that would make it better, letting your bag fall from your shoulders and onto the floor. He took your hand, pulling you closer to place his other on your back. You couldn't help but laugh, ignoring the way his shoulder felt beneath your hand, the way he swayed you back and forth, leading you where he wanted to go. He’d always been a good dancer, though you’d never danced with him like this, the way you’ve dreamt of a hundred times before. It was better than a dream, for in your dreams you hadn’t felt his warmth or seen the look on his face so vividly as he pushed you back out to spin you. 
“I take it you like your present?” you asked, desperately needing something to say. At any moment you thought your heart might explode, filled with a deep, gnawing pain. 
“You should keep it,” he said, not letting you go even as the song changed. “Your cousin gave it to you. I don’t think it’s right for me to have it.”
Your feet moved faster with the new beat, more swinging this time, upbeat and less breathy. James’s moves became sloppier, though you suspected it was on purpose. 
“It’s your birthday present, I gave it to you to keep,” you said, “I have one at home, anyway.” 
“Not one that works at school,” he argued.
“Just say thank you and keep it,” you said, watching as he paused to listen to the song.
“I like this one. Who is it?”
“Haven’t the foggiest,” you said, a noise of surprise leaving you as he pushed you out again, grabbing your other hand to pull you towards him, your back against his chest. He poked his head beside yours, laughing at your reaction. You swallowed, your fear that he could feel your racing heart becoming stronger and stronger the longer he held you. “Where’d you learn to dance?” you asked, hoping he wouldn’t notice. 
“Call me a natural,” he teased, spinning you again so you could dance normally. 
You tried to act nonchalant, letting go of his hand as you took a step back. You went over to the radio, switching it off, the RoR falling back into silence. When you turned to him, he was still chuckling, an acknowledgment that you could get each other to do things that you would normally fight against tooth and nail. You wondered how much would change if he knew it was because you loved him.  
“We should get on with it,” you said, checking your watch, “we’ve wasted enough time already.”
“Ouch. Tell me how you really feel.”
You went to the other side of the room, hitting his arm as you passed him, the smell of his hair still fuzzy in your head. 
*⑅୨୧*⑅୨୧*⑅୨୧*⑅୨୧*⑅୨୧*⑅୨୧*⑅୨୧*⑅୨୧*⑅୨୧*⑅୨୧*
To prevent it getting confiscated by McGonagall, Filch, or any other Hogwarts killjoy, you and James decided to keep the radio a secret between you and the others. When James presented Sirius with it in their dormitory after quidditch practice, he told you with quite the smile that, “you would’ve thought I was showing him the philosopher’s stone.” Thus, it became the talk of the day, or rather the week, all of you lamenting the fact that Dorcas wasn’t there to share in the glory of your gift. 
However, not all was well. There was nothing you could do to avoid your villainous classmates, so you went on the best you could. Zephyr had been ostracized by the entire student body of Gryffindor due to his being a part of some scheme with the Slytherins to harm you. No one knew the details of Zephyr’s involvement, though you assumed it didn’t take much more than the scene in the common room to connect the dots, as well as his sudden increase in time he spent with the Slytherins instead of his own house. 
The memory of Mulciber’s previous attacks and general odiousness towards muggle borns, or just those who sympathized, was fresh amongst your house-mates, making Zephyr’s friendship with Mulciber more than enough to brand him a traitor. Mulciber and his gang had accepted him fully into their ranks, roaming the corridors with him by their side as if he had always been there. Since Monday, the common room grew dead quiet whenever he walked through the portrait hole, slithering back to the staircase with his eyes cast down to his feet in a useless attempt to hide himself from view.
Just as James had said, you practiced dueling every single day for the remainder of the Easter holiday. You weren’t sure where he got the time, though he always had some spared for you. On Sunday afternoon you and James headed to the RoR, savoring the last of your free time before classes began again. 
“Let’s see what you got,” James said, grinning wickedly from across the room.
You were already in your position, your feet moving on instinct as you made the first move. “Bombarda!” James leapt out of the way of the explosion, giving you another chance to attack before he’d counter. “Relashio.”
James’s wand whipped in front of him, unaffected by your spell. “Oscsusi!”
You blocked it, shaking your head at him. It was a charm to seal the opponents mouth, his way of telling you that you weren’t practicing your non verbal spells enough. 
You wordlessly cast the binding charm, the ropes momentarily winding around him before he said the counter curse, dashing like a bolt of lightning to the other side of the room. You were getting rather good at the shield charm, blocking his next spell just in time. 
You could see him moving again, so quick you could barely think. In your panic, you reverted back to your old ways of low level hexes and jinxes, “Locomotor mortis!”
Just as James’s legs buckled beneath him, he flicked his wand again. “Flipendo!”
You heard James cast Arresto Momentum as you flew backwards through the air, though he was too late. You landed hard on the floor, knocking the wind out of your lungs. Your ears buzzed, the sound of him shouting your name muffled by the high pitched ringing. Pain radiated from the back of your skull as you tried to sit up, the initial shock fading as you remembered this was meant to be a duel. You attempted to look around for your wand, though you were soon distracted by James running towards you. He threw himself onto the ground, his hand coming to cradle your head as the other arm wrapped around your back. 
“I’m so sorry,” he said, the words pouring from him in a frenzy. “Godric, I didn’t mean to, I tried to stop you—”
“It’s okay,” you croaked, the cobwebs beginning to clear. 
You rubbed your aching temple, James’s face no longer blurry in your vision. His brows were pinched, his mouth ajar as his eyes darted down over your figure, searching for injuries. 
“What hurts?” he asked in the same manner. “I’ll take you to Poppy—”
“I just got turned around, s’all,” you began, moving to stand. “I’ll be fine in a second.”
He gently held your shoulder down, not allowing you to get up. Before you could protest, both his hands came to the side of your face, leaning in closer to peer into your eyes. You held your breath, frozen as you saw your reflection in his glasses. 
“Look at me,” he said softly, maneuvering your face towards him. His eyes continued to stare into yours, looking for what, you did not know. 
“What’re you doing?” you asked, barely able to bring yourself to speak. You hoped he didn’t feel the warmth of your cheeks, blazing as he touched you. 
“Checking your pupils,” he answered with a frown. “They’re huge, you might have a concussion. I’m taking you to the Hospital Wing.” 
“They’re just like that sometimes. They’ll be normal in a minute,” you said, pushing his hands away. You were weak, though he allowed you to remove them, still in a state of anxiety.  
“I’ll wait five minutes,” he said firmly, “and if they’re not back to normal by then, we’re going.”
You buried your face in your hands, rubbing your eyes. “What will we say happened?”
“You could have a concussion and you’re worried that Poppy might catch onto us?”
You placed your hands onto the ground, swaying a bit as the pain continued to throb. “You’ve never been nervous enough.”
He paused, watching you so intently you were convinced your pupils would never return to normal, nor would your heart. You looked down to escape his gaze, though you could still feel it, heavy like lead. 
“I’m so sorry, Y/N,” he said again, ignoring your earlier implication. 
Your name on his lips was a welcomed sound, even if it meant you had to get thrown to the floor. Your eyes drifted back to his, though you knew it was a mistake, his expression so full of dread it made you question if you had blood pouring from your nose. You rubbed it just to make sure, though your sleeve came back clean. 
“It’s really all right,” you began, “I just wasn’t quick enough. Call it good practice.”
“You’re mad,” he sighed, his hand coming up to touch your shoulder, stopping just short. “What hurts?”
“Just my head,” you answered, not knowing if you were dizzy from the fall or from his face, perfect right in front of you. 
He touched your shoulder, warm even through your shirt. You felt his fingers flexing as they held you, making you feel as if you might faint at any second. After just a few moments it was too much, the realization that you were alone more frightening than it ought to have been. You had thought you were better than this, that you had things under control, though now you were worse than ever before. 
“I’m feeling better all ready,” you said, hoping, praying he’d take his hand off of you. 
James was unconvinced, his mouth still tight. “What’s thirteen times nine?”
You groaned, “I’ve always been bad at arithmetic.” When he gave you another serious look you rolled your eyes, taking a deep breath as you thought. “A hundred seventeen”
He seemed pleased, at least for the time being, taking his hand from your shoulder so you could stand. You relished in the distance, though what you really wanted was some fresh air, crisp in your lungs. The pain was lessening, the throbbing mostly gone. James held your arm as you steadied yourself, letting it go as you thanked him softly. He didn’t chastise you for saying it, another act of mercy. 
“Let me check,” he said, forcing his face in front of yours. 
Perhaps to repay him, you didn’t fight, letting him look into your eyes. 
“You’ll be all right,” he said, stepping away. “No concussion for you.”
“Maybe next time,” you joked in a feeble attempt to lighten the dull mood that had settled around each of you. 
He didn’t laugh, going over to pick up your wand which had rolled away.
“I’ll give you a day off,” he said, finally smiling a bit as he handed it to you, “but we’re back here on Wednesday after classes.”
You swallowed down something, whether it was pride or fear you did not know, allowing your gaze to be selfish. James’s sleeves were pushed up, a lovely, cherished sight. You found yourself settling on his hands, always busy, tapping on desks, fiddling with his wand, brushing through his hair. You drifted over to his lips, barely curled upwards, just for you. Did the fondness in his expression, the tender way his hands touched you mean what the cards seemed to point to, what Marlene had been telling you? Was Remus right? 
“C’mon, let’s go back,” he said, opening the door for you. You followed, walking with him down the empty corridor towards the common room.
“Thank you again— for helping me get better at dueling,” you said, though the words seemed to drift away from you, swirling toward the high ceilings.
He turned to look at you with a smile, soft and small but no less touching. Something flashed across his eyes, a ray of blinding, beautiful light. Then, it was gone, leaving only a crushing affection, an impossibly excruciating ache. 
“Anything for you.”
*⑅୨୧*⑅୨୧*⑅୨୧*⑅୨୧*⑅୨୧*⑅୨୧*⑅୨୧*⑅୨୧*⑅୨୧*⑅୨୧*
Peter gave you a supportive nod as you walked into History of Magic on Monday morning, knowing who’d already be at his desk. Wilkes, who you had only seen here and there about the castle over the holiday, turned around as you and Peter went to your seats, his eyes dark as they followed you. Professor Binns’s corpeal figure was floating two and fro in front of the chalkboard, muttering something to himself. You tightened your jaw as you forced your eyes to remain ahead, pulling out your things from your bag.
A few more students filtered in as class began, Binns scribbling something onto the board before he spun around, continuing his leisurely pace about the room with little attention paid to his class. 
“The history of Dai Ryusaki’s amulet prior to his death is largely unknown, though there have been a host of theories explored by both the Ministry and independent researchers…”
You rushed out of class when the bell rang, ready to make a mad dash down the corridor before someone grabbed your arm, spinning you back around. Sirius had caught you, standing beside James, Remus, Lily, Marlene, and Dorcas. Your eyes widened, catching the expletive that had been caught in your throat. Unlike yourself, Peter noticed the group lingering just outside the door, looking just as confused as you were. 
“What’re you all doing here?” he asked. 
James’s gaze darted towards Wilkes, walking out of the classroom with a menacing glance in your direction. James narrowed his eyes, Wilkes turning back around with a smug smile.
“I told you I’d be all right,” you said, crossing your arms. 
“We were going this way anyway,” Lily said, though she’d always been a bad liar. 
You sighed, spinning on your heels to walk down the corridor towards the Great Hall. “C’mon, let's go to lunch.”
“Shouldn’t you be going that way?” James said, motioning down in the opposite direction. 
You shook your head. “McGonagall told me this morning I could eat in the Great Hall again.”
“No, no, no, wait.” James grabbed your shoulder, forcing you to look at him, seemingly utterly outraged at the suggestion. “Are you mad? You can’t eat in the Great Hall with them walking around.”
Lily sighed, “James, if McGona—”
“I agree with him,” Remus interrupted, giving Lily an apologetic look. She didn’t seem to take it very well, her lips pulling to one side as she eyed him.
“I’m eating in the Great Hall, end of discussion,” you said with a final glance at the others. James, who was still extremely hesitant, was not at all swayed by your words. “Lily’s right, it’ll be fine,” you said to him.
He took his hand from your shoulder, slumping as he allowed you to continue towards the Great Hall. 
“I go away for two weeks and everything goes to shit,” Dorcas huffed, breaking a period of short, tense silence. 
You smiled, unsure if it was from joy or misery. “Tell me about it.”
Walking into the Great Hall felt odd. It was as if you hadn’t been there in years, the endless clinking of silverware a long forgotten chorus that used to fill your ears three times a day. Instinctively, you looked towards the Slytherin table, scanning it to see if any of the conspirators, as Marlene had so aptly named them, were there. Severus was sitting with his back to the door, though you’d recognize his hair anywhere, stringy where it hung at his neck. Wilkes was just going up to the table to sit across from him beside Mulciber, the rest of their gaggle already digging into their food. Regulus was one of them, smaller compared to the others, not unlike Snape in his countenance. You wondered when the last time he and his brother had spoken, given that they had not lived in the same house for two years now. 
Fearing Mulciber would look up and catch you staring, your eyes shot away, continuing down the aisle towards a free spot at the Gryffindor table. 
James watched on warily as you put food onto your plate, fidgeting when you went to take a bite. “I don’t like this,” he said suddenly.
Startled, you lowered your fork, staring at him across the table. He was glaring at your food with an intensity that seemed to suggest that he knew, for certain, it had been tampered with. 
“I’m sure Dumbledore took care of it,” Lily whispered to him.
He took his own fork, leaning forward to take a mouthful of your food. Before you could react, he was sitting back down in his seat, chewing as his eyes darted this way and that, trying to determine whether or not he’d drop dead in the next few seconds. You all sat with bated breath, frozen until he swallowed. 
“I feel fine,” he said, though not without another uneasy glance towards your plate. 
You let out a sigh of relief, even though you were quite sure it was perfectly fine to begin with.
“Now, what if it had been poisoned?” Lily chided.
He shrugged, looking rather proud of his own bravery. “I would’ve been a hero, probably have gotten an award.”
“Dunce of the year,” Remus mumbled, snickering into his glass.
Sirius snorted, turning to James with a smirk. “If you drop like a fish within the next forty-eight hours, I’m not reviving you.”
“He’s not going to ‘drop like a fish,’” Lily said, entirely unamused.
“He might do that on his own,” Dorcas chuckled.
The group erupted in laughter, other than Lily, who was still in a twist over James’s continued recklessness. 
“Thank you,” you said to James as the ruckus died down, “but if you do that again, I’ll poison you myself.”
*⑅୨୧*⑅୨୧*⑅୨୧*⑅୨୧*⑅୨୧*⑅୨୧*⑅୨୧*⑅୨୧*⑅୨୧*⑅୨୧*
With your scarf wrapped tightly around your neck, you once again sat squished between Lily and Marlene in the Gryffindor quidditch stands, waiting for the match to begin. This time around, James, Sirius, and Dorcas were in front of you, each hoping for Hufflepuff to kick Slytherin’s butt into oblivion. Corey Luxfire was back in play, meaning that they actually had a shot this time. 
Each team came flying onto the pitch, the Hufflepuffs roaring as Corey whizzed beside their stands. Even the Gryffindors went wild when their seeker, Poppy Dunwood, did a loop around the goals, circling back towards the center. 
However, you all went quiet as the Slytherin team passed by, Regulus swooping down in front of his house's stands, met with enthusiastic roars. His hair was black like his brothers, though cut far shorter, clean and crisp as every proper young wizard’s of the twenty-eight should be. Sirius turned away as he flew by you to the pitch, hovering above his team across from Poppy. 
Below, Monsieur Button started the game, the players flying off when the quaffle was tossed into the air. 
Instantly, Regulus went for the snitch, whipping around to chase it towards the grass, Poppy hot on his trail. The Ravenclaw’s all craned their heads up as Regulus flew over, circling their tower before he came back down again into the pitch. In the meantime, a Hufflepuff chaser was in possession of the quaffle, throwing it to Corey who took it under his arm, weaving through the Slytherins towards the goal. 
Regulus shot by the Gryffindor stands, losing sight of the snitch as it disappeared past the crowd. 
“Score for Hufflepuff, ten to nothing!” said Atticus Bundleby through the speakers.
The Hufflepuffs erupted in cheers, their banners and flags waving in the air. James, Sirius, and Dorcas stood, hollering as the Slytherin keeper threw the quaffle back into play. The others were not much better, particularly Marlene, who had begun cursing out specific members of the Slytherin team. Lily knocked her shoulder, scowling at her poor behavior. 
“What?” Marlene said, seeing no problem with her choice of language.
Lily shook her head, wrapping her coat around her tighter as she turned back towards the game.
It was a while before Poppy and Regulus spotted the snitch again, nestled near the base of the Hufflepuff tower. Poppy flew underneath a scuffle, a bludger nearly throwing her from her broom. A beater swooped it, blocking it from hitting her in the nick of time, sending it hurling back towards a Slytherin chaser. 
Regulus moved ahead of her, dashing towards the snitch as it went off, zigzagging up towards the students. He flew higher and higher in pursuit, soon becoming small in the face of the sky. This time, Sirius spun around to watch, Poppy flying past in an attempt to catch up. 
“Slytherin scores! It’s one-hundred twenty to eighty, Hufflepuff!”
Poppy was just behind Regulus, inching closer and closer, the snitch near enough to catch. Suddenly, Regulus moved to the side, slowing down just enough to make Poppy jerk back, spinning out and nearly falling off her broom. 
“Dunwood’s falling from her— she’s back up! Black is gaining on the snitch!”
The entirety of the student body had turned away from the pitch to watch the seekers, Regulus following the snitch with odd, random movements as it made it’s attempts to lose him. You glanced at Sirius, his eyes still locked on his brother as his hands curled into tight fists. 
Dorcas was shouting, waving her hands in the air, “C’mon, shake ‘em you hunk of metal!”
“Slytherin scores again! One hundred twenty to ninety, Hufflepuff— Looks like Dunwood’s back in the game!”
“C’mon Poppy!” James called, nearly jumping up and down. He grasped Peter’s shoulders, shaking him silly in his exhilaration. You remembered a time not too long ago when he was praying for her failure, though he’d wish for just about anything if it meant Slytherin would lose. 
Poppy made a valiant effort to catch up, nearly beside Regulus, though she was too late. He grabbed the snitch, holding it up in the air in his triumph. Sirius’s fists loosened, his fingers splaying out for a split second before they returned to their normal, relaxed state. 
“Black captures the golden snitch! Slytherin wins two-forty to one-twenty!”
Dorcas threw her arms down with a groan, “Motherfucker!”
Regulus flew back down towards his team, who surrounded him with cheers of their own. You tried to pick out his expression, though he was too far away, only a vague blur of green robes and dark hair. You watched him for as long as you were able, soon pulled away by Lily as you all went to exit the stands. 
“Two-forty, do you think you can make that up?” Peter asked as you made your way towards the castle over the lawn.
“Yeah, but we’ll have to hustle,” James said, turning to Dorcas and Sirius. “You hear that? I want you two all in these next few months. Their defense is still weak, but Regulus is good.”
“Are you doubting my skills?” Dorcas said, raising her brows.
“You did miss two weeks of drills,” Sirius teased. 
Dorcas scoffed, “I don’t need drills.”
James went to argue, though Marlene’s dramatic, drawn out groan cut him off. 
“This party’s gonna be such a drag,” she said, her shoulders slumping. “I hate it when Slytherin wins, it puts everyone in a bad mood.”
Dorcas threw an arm around her shoulders, smiling down at her. “Don’t say that. We might be able to get James pissed enough to dance.” 
Everyone started snickering, though James only grumbled to himself, his cheeks growing a little more red. If anyone were to point it out, he’d say it was from the cold. 
You leaned against the doorframe of the lavatory, watching Marlene coat her lashes in Madam Wink’s Miracle Mascara. Lily and Dorcas had already gone down to the common room, though Marlene had insisted someone stay with her as she did the long, laborious task of getting ready. 
“How many coats was that?” you groaned, watching as she pristinely applied what seemed like the twentieth. 
She put the wand back in its tube, smirking at you through the mirror. “Why? Do you think I need another?”
“No.”
She still had a look of mischief on her face as she pulled out her lip glass and applied it, far too proud of whatever she was about to say. 
“You and James have been pretty cozy,” she began, raising her brows. “How has your training been?”
You made a noise of disgust, your lip curling in a vain attempt to hide your embarrassment. “James teaching me how to duel is totally, completely platonic and you know it.” 
She turned to face you with a sentimental, sickly sweet expression, completely ignoring your assertion. “He’s been so worried about you like you’re already married. It makes me want to be sick,” her tone could not have been more different from her words, genuine in her happiness for you. 
“What a lovely image, Marls,” you said, full of dry sarcasm.  
“Do you know what he said to Sirius the other day?” she said, her eyes sparkling with the joy of someone who knew something of a scandalous nature. It made your palms itch. “James told him that you’re an excellent dancer.”
“Do you and Sirius talk about me behind my back?” you asked, less offended than you were horrified. 
She shrugged, throwing her lip gloss back into her bag. “Not often.”
You shook your head, trying to forget the frightening new information that Marlene and Sirius were gossiping about you and James. You could only imagine what sorts of conniving plans they were coming up with. 
“Anyway, that's a lie like no other,” you scoffed. “Are you sure he said ‘excellent’?”
She didn’t reply, brushing past you to retrieve her wand on her bed. “One galleon he asks you to dance tonight.”
“Only one? You can’t be that confident.”
She rolled her eyes, motioning for you to follow as she headed to the door. “Come on, let me make you one of my masterpieces.”
Well into the night you were nursing one of Marlene’s concoctions, red and vaguely shimmering, tasting of cranberry and something else unplaceable though undeniably good. The music was playing, some new single they’d been looping all week on the wizard radio stations. In front of you, Sirius, Dorcas, Remus, and James were playing Sparks, a game originating in the twisted mind of Remus Lupin. You and Peter took to watching, Lily and Marlene spinning around with a group of equally drunk students by the speaker. 
The rules of Sparks were ever-changing and increasingly complicated, though it mainly consisted of flipping a coin, shooting sparks from your wand if it landed heads, with the slowest having to drink. However, if there were four tails in a row, the first person to shoot two sparks could choose someone to take a shot of firewhiskey. Remus usually came out just fine, Dorcas did not. At least they weren’t doing shot for shot. 
“I’m going to kill you, Lupin,” Dorcas gritted, moving to pour herself a shot. 
Remus smiled as she grimaced at the taste. “Wanna quit?”
“Never.” She slammed her glass down onto the table, steely as she stared at him.
Unprompted by the game, James downed whatever was left in his glass, looking around at you all expectantly. “All right, who’s dancing?”
“Is it that time already?” Sirius taunted.
James, likely too buzzed to take notice, waited for someone to answer his call. Peter, who you were pretty sure never danced a day in his life, did not move an inch, nor did Remus.
“I’m finishing this even if it kills me,” said Dorcas, her wand still in her hand, ready to take action. 
“Don’t make me go out there alone!” James whined. 
Sirius smirked again, devious and unnerving. “I’m sure Y/N wants to,” he drawled, turning to you. 
Your head, fuzzy and light, swarmed with the memory of two Tuesdays ago, the sound of the muggle crooner in the RoR, the weight of his hand in yours. You could hear Sirius’s guitar, Carly Simon, the sight of James's crooked glasses, feeling the rush as he dipped you. 
You chuckled nervously, shrinking into yourself. “I don’t know…”
“C’mon, you’re my favorite, remember?” James said, slouching forward. 
You thought you might die. “Okay, just for one—”
James put his glass down onto the table, taking yours and doing the same before he led you towards the group that had clustered around the radio, charmed to play louder than designed. He was burning up, the heat rising up to your shoulder and well into your chest, hammering as you neared Lily and Marlene. You wanted to run, for there were too many people, too many possibilities to make a fool of yourself. 
When Lily noticed you two she squealed, having breached that point in the night where almost everything made her delighted. She did some silly, twirling move as James spun you not unlike he had before, pushing you out only to pull you back in again. His curls, wild from the long night, caught the light in a way that made your knees feel like jelly. You noticed Marlene watching you with a cocky smile, a precursor to all the “I told you so’s” you’d have to hear whenever she got you alone. 
“I don’t need spells, I don’t need charms, I just want you in my arms, you’re the greatest witch that I have ever seen…”
It was a cheesy song, perfect for dancing and not for listening. Through the noise, a few Gryffindors called to James the way only he received, a liquor fueled affinity for the way he effortlessly charmed the world. He was James Potter: Head Boy, quidditch captain, the life-breath of every shindig who seemed to be known and adored by everyone (other than the Slytherins). But you, you were his favorite, at least to dance with. You weren’t sure how much you could trust his words given the state he was in, though you took them to heart anyway, holding to them as if they were gospel. I’m his favorite. 
Slowly, you relaxed, giving way to the unserious manner in which James danced, a thousand different styles melded together into something entirely his own. Lily took you away after a few songs, shouting the lyrics as she danced. You did the same, mumbling half of them and not caring how your voice sounded. It was drowned out by the music and chatter anyway, blocked by the muffliato charm at the door. 
As you spun around with her, James took both your hands, tugging you back with a laugh. Marlene took your place with the same look as before, watching as James led you in a quasi-swing dance, messy steps that barely went with the song. Your perception of time was warped, the music melting into one great, endless ballad. You could’ve been there for ten minutes or ten hours, lost in its false infinity. 
Just as James pulled you closer, ready to sway with the funky beat of a new song, he stiffened, stopping completely as he glared across the room. You glanced behind you, unconsciously squeezing his hand tighter as you saw Zephyr walk inside, weaving through the crowd. Students whispered to one another, looking at him sideways as he passed, heading towards the staircase. 
James’s eyes shot back to yours, filled with concern as he leaned in closer to speak into your ear, “Want to go?”
All you did was nod. 
You didn’t feel drunk enough for this. In fact, you were less than tipsy, your head far too clear to handle the way everyone seemed to turn away from Zephyr towards you and James leaving the huddle of dancers. Lily and Marlene each called out your name, though you only glanced back, hidden from their sight by the crowd. 
As soon as James got you out of the common room he pulled the cloak from his pocket, throwing it over you both. Any other time you would’ve questioned why he was walking around with the cloak at a party, as well as the fact that it seemed as though everyone had illegally charmed their pockets but you. You were also surprised he was taking you out after curfew without the map, though you didn’t question it, lest he change his mind. 
“Where are we going?” you whispered, trying to ignore the way your shoulders pressed together. 
He didn’t try to hide his worry, his brows pinched as he looked at you in the low light. “Where do you want to go?”
You thought for a moment, though the need to get away from Gryffindor Tower was greater than you desire to pick the perfect spot. The piles of dust covered furniture in the Room of Requirement was entirely unappealing, as were any of the passageways you’d sometimes hide away in. 
“The Astronomy Tower,” you answered finally.
James smiled softly, beginning to walk down the corridor towards the main castle. “Exquisite choice.” 
You peeked out of the cloak upon arriving at the tower, saying the password given to all N.E.W.T. level Astronomy students so they could access the viewing deck for study, “Six hundred eighty-five thousand over pi.”
Once inside, James threw off the cloak, shoving it back into his pocket as he stared at you in confusion. “What’s the password mean?”
“It’s the equation for how long a parsec is in meters,” you said, chuckling as he continued to look as if you were speaking a different language. 
“What’s a parsec?”
You kept your laughter down the best you could as you continued up the steps, the ceiling twinkling above you. “A little over three lightyears.”
You didn’t reach for your wand when you made it up, relishing the cold air on your bare skin. Instantly, being there made it seem as if the common room was halfway across the world, the noise gone, Zephyr just a distant memory. James followed as you went to the railing, your head craned up to look at the stars. It was nearly the new moon, leaving the sky naked of its usual, vibrant glow. Still, the milky way was painted pale pink and purple, fading out into dark blue, sprinkled with a million stars like specks of glittering paint. 
You each stayed there unspeaking, suspended in the hazy hours of Sunday morning, a time in which all things either felt entirely lovely or entirely awful. This moment was the former. 
James’s pinky brushed yours, though he pulled it away before you could savor it. Swallowing, he briefly glanced at the side of your face before looking away again. 
“I’ve always been bad at constellations,” he said, soft as if to slowly break the silence, little by little. “I know Orion and Ursa Major, but that's about it.”
“At least you paid attention in first year Astronomy,” you said, your smile growing without you realizing. You pointed towards a star, radiant amongst the others. “See that one?”
James followed your line of sight, poking his head beside yours. 
“That’s Regulus, the lion's heart. If you follow it up, it’ll make the Sickle, which is Leo’s head. Back there is Denebola, the tail. April is a good month to see Leo.”
When you looked back at him, you weren’t sure if you’d ever be able to look away again. 
He smiled, more lovely than any constellation. “How do you remember them all?”
“I don’t know,” you began. “It’s like remembering spells. If you use them enough, after a while it becomes second nature. I’ve always liked the muggle stories, though. They help.”
His eyes brightened. “What’s the story for Leo?”
“Lots of questions,” you teased. 
He bumped your shoulder, glancing back at the sky. “Is it a crime to be curious?”
You rolled your eyes, still studying his profile. “You know who Hercules is, right?”
“Big strong guy?”
“Yeah,” you chuckled. “Long story short, Hera didn’t like Hercules, so one day she made him go mad and murder his wife and children. Hercules was ridden with guilt, so to atone for his sins he went to serve his cousin, King Eurystheus, for twelve years. Once he did this, he’d be rewarded with immortality. At first King Eurystheus gave him ten labors to do, but it actually ended up being twelve in the end. Again, long story,” you paused, trying to regain your train of thought.
“Anyway, the first of the labors was to kill the Nemean Lion and bring back its fur. At first, Hercules tried to shoot it with arrows, but they bounced right off. So, he blocked off one entrance to its cave and snuck in the other, strangling it with his bare hands. But, when he tried to skin it, knives couldn’t cut through. Athena came and told him to use its claws, which worked. After that, he wore its skin throughout the other labors because it was stronger than armor. Then, y’know, he did all the other labors and became a hero.”
“Think I could strangle a lion with my bare hands?” James asked with a laugh. 
“No,” you said, pretending to think it over. “Maybe a toad or something.”
He leaned his arms on the railing, hanging his head as if you’d ripped his heart out. “You’re so awful to me.” 
“You’ll forgive me,” you said, used to his dramatics after all this time. 
After a beat he stood back up, shivering as a gust of wind blew past the tower. 
“Aren’t you cold?” he asked, placing his hand on top of yours, running his thumb over your knuckles. He took it away too soon for your liking, leaving you longing for the feeling of his palm.
“No, the cold feels good,” you said, your head growing light again as he turned to face you fully. You were filled with an inescapable desire to confess, spurred on by the way you felt halfway in a dream, as if anything you said now only existed here, safe from consequence. But, even if you did speak, what could you say? How could you possibly word it, a thing so simple yet so unbelievably complicated? I love you, I think I always have. 
James spoke before you had a chance to take the plunge, though part of you wished he hadn’t, “You’re a good dancer, you know,” he paused, his smile like the sun, illuminating the night. “And you’re the only one that’ll humor me.”
You looked at him as if he had gone insane. “How drunk are you?”
“Practically sober.”
Something about his reply reminded you of his animagus form, as if he’d sprout antlers at any moment. You studied him with great suspicion, noting his ruddy cheeks, though it could’ve been from the chill. 
“I mean it!” he said, growing more impassioned. “My last drink was an hour and a half ago, and I wasn’t that bad then. Didn’t want to get too pissed with Zephyr running around.”
“I thought you only danced when you were drunk,” you challenged. 
“I danced with you two weeks ago when I was sober,” he paused, his features softening. “How about you?”
“Stone cold,” you said, perfectly honest. “Don’t tell Marlene, though. She made me a dozen drinks, but I kept pawning them off onto Remus.”
“I won't,” he chuckled, pausing after a moment to lick his lips, gone dry with the wind. “Anything for you, remember?”
Of course you remembered, you had thought about it every day since he said it. You wracked your brain for a suitable reply, though all you came up with was “I love you”. 
“James, I,” you trailed off, heady with the sight of him, his words, the way he seemed to take you in.
For a moment you really did think it was a dream, because he was looking at you the way you had caught him in the courtyard, endeared to you like no other. Now, however, it wasn’t going away, remaining as he took a step closer, his hands coming to your cheeks. He touched you just as tenderly as he had in the RoR, his fingers brushing along your ears, his gaze bouncing from your eyes to your lips. You stared back up at him, perhaps with the same expression.
In a split second he closed the distance, the world blooming as he kissed you. He moved his hands down to your waist, yours finding their way across his shoulders, towards the nape of his neck where they threaded through his hair. He held you fervently, delicate as if you were a rare, treasured gift. Deep within you something stirred like a gavel striking, a single word ringing out in place of a bang: finally. It was perfect, better than all the times you had imagined it, greater than any book you’d ever read. 
As soon as you parted, your head rushing and your heart swelling with absolute bliss, the realization felt more like being struck with an anvil. You just kissed James.
“Mother of Merlin,” you gasped, still staring into his eyes. They were blown out and beautiful, though it didn’t stop you from taking a step back. “You absolute tosser,” you mumbled to yourself, the world spinning all around you, dizzying in the worst way. You felt like you were going to be sick. 
“I’m sorry,” he said quickly, his expression pained and rather awkward. “I’m sorry, I thought you wanted—”
You paced back and forth, adrenaline coursing through you. “No, I did. That's the worst part.”
“I have to say, I’m a little offended,” he said, looking at you as if suffering from a dull, ever-present injury, more annoying than it was excruciating. 
“That’s not what I meant,” you sighed, preoccupied with the stark juxtaposition between your immense happiness and equal regret. 
Flabbergasted and obviously unsure how to proceed, he slowly neared you again, forcing you to meet his eyes. “What is it? Is it something I did?” he asked carefully. 
Your lips still tingled, your stomach buzzing with the aftermath of your most folly, foolish wish come true. You loved him, and at the very least, he fancied you back. 
“Lily,” was all you could say, her name coming out broken and shameful. 
He furrowed his brows, his mouth ajar. “What about her?”
“Lily,” you repeated, attempting to convey the seriousness of your crimes, though it did not seem to have the intended effect. “You and I, we can’t, not when—” you cut yourself off, huffing as you brought the heels of your hands to your eyes. 
“You think because I dated Lily we can’t be together?” 
You nodded, your fingers blocking your sight of him. You couldn’t bear to look, not when he was everything you ever wanted. 
He gently held your hands, saying your name as he brought them away. 
“Of course we can,” he began, ducking down so you would have to look at him. “She won’t care, not a bit, not when,” he faltered, shaking his head as he reached up to touch your cheek. “She can’t be upset with a man in love.”
You soared. “You’re in love with me?”
“Of course I am,” he began, smiling wider. “I’ve told you before.”
Elation washed over you, the stars seeming to shine brighter over you both, dazzling in their celestial waltz. In an instant, you forgot about all the reasons why you shouldn’t, only able to recall why you should. 
Breathless, you lifted the weight that had been upon you for far too long, “I love you too.”
“Thank Godric,” he chuckled, rubbing a thumb along your temple. “I was getting nervous for a minute.”
“You love me,” you whispered, mostly to yourself, as if trying to cast it in stone. 
“Please let me kiss you again, or I think I might die,” his voice was ardent, bursting at the seams with a nearly theatrical plea for your attention. 
You rolled your eyes. “So dramatic—”
He cut you off, pressing his lips to yours. He was careful with you, nearly chaste, cradling your jaw as your noses bumped. You fisted your hands in his jumper, no plans of letting go.
*⑅୨୧*⑅୨୧*⑅୨୧*⑅୨୧*⑅୨୧*⑅୨୧*⑅୨୧*⑅୨୧*⑅୨୧*⑅୨୧*
Tag List: @floverisland @ilovejamespottersomuch @googie-jeon @tvnile
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gerec · 1 day ago
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Hello! Your fic recs have brought me so much joy and they were one of the things that made me really into cherik! Like I'm crazy about them now.
And I don't know if you're accepting request if not I'm sorry for disturbing please disregard this part of the message or this entire ask
But I wanted to ask what fics do you read whenever you need a pick-me-up or when you need a laugh.
Because I just watched this YouTube video about this horror novel penpal by dathan auerbach and it was really sad and disturbing but mostly tragically sad and I really wanted to read something sweet or funny as a pick-me-up.
Sorry for the long ask (I can't help but yap) and if its incoherent (English isn't my first language 😅). And thank you so much for your contribution to the x-men Fandom. Both your fic recs and fics brought me so much joy and made it really exciting for me when I was just starting to get into x-men and cherik ❤️💖
Hi Anon,
I'm sorry for the wait, but here's a (very long!) list of fics I go back to over and over whenever I need a laugh or I want to feel the warm fuzzies :D I hope this serves you as well it has served me all these years!!!
Protect, Serve, Troll by keire_ke
Erik’s fire department has a special relationship with the local university. They visit often. Sometimes, there even is a fire.
Erik Lehnsherr’s Guide to Parenting by keire_ke (series)
Alex disapproves of school car washes, despite the abundance of wet bikinis on pretty girls. Erik doesn’t approve of his son shirking money-making duties.
Humane Society by smilebackwards
Once Erik finally allows himself to decide that Charles is pretty much the best thing since sliced bread, he spends the next week being incredibly bitter that he’s Charles’ cat and not his boyfriend.
Other Life Challenges by professor (series)
“Why am I here again?” Erik groans.
“I need you to lift things and glower at people over my shoulder when I tell people that it’s not ‘politically correct’ or a ‘war on Christmas’ to have a non-denominational winter holiday festival,” says Theresa Pryde.
Well, at least those are two things he’s good at.
Wednesday by Red
Getting confined to a nursing facility for a six-week course of iv antibiotics would have been dreadfully dull, had Charles not found a way to “occupy his time.”
In which Erik Lehnsherr, retired nazi hunter, becomes the latest victim of Charles Xavier’s charms.
drastic measures by goodmorningbeloved (3799steps)
Erik glowers.
“I can’t believe we’re back to this,” Charles says, like he wants to throw his hands in the air. He’s pouting a little bit. “Years of progress, and we’ve returned to you brooding. Don’t tell me I have to break out the terrible flirting again.”
Erik glowers a little less. “Flirting,” he repeats, bland but also maybe just very, very, very slightly, faintly, vaguely hopeful.
“Oh, yes,” Charles says absently, until something seems to strike him. “Don’t tell me you don’t…” He raises his left hand and brandishes the ring. “We promised ourselves to each other last week.”
Alternatively: Erik’s memory is swiped clean of his and Charles’s relationship.
One Hundred One Night Stands. by Sophia_Bee
Charles has a rule. Never fuck the same guy twice. When he refuses to see Erik again after a one night stand, Erik goes about trying to get Charles to violate that rule using accents and disguises.
Suddenly There’ll Be a Blizzard (Let It Snow Remix) by kianspo
Charles was never at his best while jetlagged, but locking himself out in a snowstorm while barely dressed might be a new low. The last thing he expected was to be rescued by his high school nemesis, the man he hadn’t seen in over ten years, who might have broken his heart for good once upon a time.
All We Are We Are by kianspo 
Charles’s boyfriend breaks up with him days before the holidays. Not willing to ruin anyone else’s festive mood, Charles hides this fact from his sister and his friends, and retreats into the family mansion, letting the world move on without him. He’s flirting with depression when a one-time ex and a long-term friend surprises him. Long-kept secrets are revealed, and it turns out, Charles hasn’t been paying attention to the right things.
Your Heart Just Couldn't Wait by Pookaseraph
Charles and his BFF Tony Stark have the life - they're co-valedictorians at the most prestigious high school in the city, they have their own condo in Manhattan, and they get to go to all the awesome parties. Charles just wished he understood relationships and sex as well as Tony does. His theoretical bisexuality starts to feel a lot less theoretical when he and Tony end up in Professor Lehnsherr's Physics III course at Columbia University, but Charles' decision to take their relationship further leaves both student and professor with more than they bargained for.
this is only now (where do we go from here) by thebodyeclectic From this prompt on the 1stclass_kink meme: Modern AU, where an older Alex (in his mid twenties?) somehow figures out/recieves the news that, no, his younger brother didn't die in the crash like he'd been told, and then sets out to find him. The catch is, Scott's been adopted and adores his 'dad', who is incidentally the adorkable Hank McCoy.
Not So Much the Teacup by thehoyden
“Charles is basically the bride whisperer. It’s like he can read their minds.” (wedding planner AU)
Math Reasons by pearl_o, pocky_slash (series)
"Mom says Erik always knows what he wants, it just sometimes takes him a little while to actually realize it," Ruth said.
Charles fell in love with Erik the first night they met, the first week of freshman year. Two years of friendship, adventures, arguments, hijinks, secrets, and summer visits later, Erik is starting to catch up.
On a Beach, With You (The Tel Aviv Remix) by niniblack
Charles Xavier meets Erik Lehnsherr on a beach in Israel.
Growing Up Lehnsherr by DeerstalkerDeathFrisbee (series)
For someone who hates feelings, Erik gets dragged into an alarming number of conversations about them. In which there are confessions, declarations, awkward first meetings, accidents, explanations, endings and beginnings.
Otherwise know as Five Conversations Erik Didn't Want to Have and One That He Did.
Got You Locked Down Like Police by brawlingdiscontent
Mob AU. Logan’s straightforward ‘retrieval’ job gets complicated. 
One big family by ximeria
There is a house in New York (no, only Charles calls it a house, and his perception of such is a little warped, so let's try that again)...
... There's a building in New York, owned by XavierMedCorp that caters to mutant tenants, their families and a handful of humans. You need to know someone who knows someone who knows someone to get an apartment there. Or maybe just be very lucky. Or have a mutant son who has the tenacity of a pit bull. Anyway, Edie Lehnsherr has moved in and she is slowly getting to know the other tenants, the superintendent and the owner.
Making perfect by aesc
As is the case with most trials in Erik's life, this one starts with Charles gazing beseechingly at him and asking him for a favor. Not that their going-on-three years relationship is a trial, even though it started with Charles giving Erik the full benefit of sad blue eyes and asking him if he wouldn't mind opening his car door since he'd locked his keys inside, but still.
love like toy trucks crashing by midrashic
Charles Xavier may be young, but he knows what it means to love.
Love Runs Out by ikeracity
Hammer Bay, one of the most mutant-friendly apartment buildings in all of Manhattan and affectionately nicknamed the Hub by its residents, is home to an eclectic mix of families, broke college students, scientists, artists, and high school dropouts. Charles Xavier, new arrival to apartment 3K, catches the attention of everyone on the third floor but he only has eyes for one: cranky author Erik Lehnsherr who lives directly across the hall in 3B.
A Nice Boy (The Family Matters Edition) by pocky_slash
Erik's not sure whether the problem is that he doesn't want his parents to meet Charles or that he doesn't want Charles to meet his parents. Either way, he never invites Charles to brunch. Why should he? It's not like they're dating.
soul of my soul by ikeracity 
You can imprint on your soulmate anywhere — school, work, on the street, in a restaurant, on the subway.
Charles and Erik imprint on each other just in time for the holidays.
Walking in a Winter Wonderland by TurtleTotem 
Charles hasn't seen Erik since their devastating breakup ten years ago. He's certainly the last person he expects to run into at a Christmas lights display.
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moutainrusing · 3 days ago
Text
sunburn
698 words, no warnings, @dorlenemicroficprompts
Flick of the wrist. It was never graceful when Marlene did it. Her wrist itself didn’t even look pretty. There was a streak of sunburn across it, skin prickled red, like a pickled, fleshy chicken, maybe. Plucked feathers. It wasn’t like the chicken needed feathers anyway. It could never really fly.
Marlene could never really fly. And she was relating to a chicken now. What had her life become?
She grasped her wand again, flicked her wrist, and the movement was too jerky for the magic to happen.
The Defence professor chanced a glance in her direction and frowned at her lack of progress, and Marlene winced internally, well-prepared to hear the teacher call for the top student to help her out. It could be Remus, Sirius, James, or, if her luck went badly, which it often did, “Dorcas? Help McKinnon out with the spell, would you?”
On the other side of the room, Dorcas lowered her wand, where she had been constantly casting the Patronus charm just because she excelled at it. She’d looked bored while she’d been casting, like it was too easy, the magic simply flowing out of her without her even asking it to. Her Patronus was a porcupine. Made sense, because Dorcas was prickly and mean and unbothered with everyone and everything.
Without even greeting her, Dorcas walked towards Marlene and raised an eyebrow.
Marlene frowned.
Looking away, Dorcas cleared her throat, “Well? Cast it, yeah?”
“You’re so helpful,” Marlene snarked. Her Patronus would probably be a chicken. That was why Dorcas looked away from her, because she looked like a plucked pink chicken, streaked with sunburn and barbecued in the heat. Angry, she raised her wand and tried, “Expecto Patronum!”
Nothing happened. Dorcas turned to face her. “You need to—” she waved a careless hand, “Think of a happy memory. And flick your wrist more gently.”
Marlene glowered, “You didn’t even see my wrist!”
Dorcas shrugged. “Just… do what I say.”
Marlene threw her hands up. “You don’t know what you’re saying! You’re not smart, because if you were, you’d be able to teach the damn thing, but you can’t, ‘cause your brain’s a shrivelled fig, and you’re a massive prick, like your stupid little Patronus. You’re trying to keep all your knowledge to yourself behind a layer of spines, which, fine, because no one wants your knowledge anyway. Keep to yourself and be useless, why don’t you?”
“You’re the one who’s difficult to help,” Dorcas muttered.
“That’s the problem?” Marlene was incredulous. “Fine, I accept my faults, I’m difficult, but you’re not even trying, Meadowes, so accept that.”
“Fine!” Dorcas finally spoke louder than a mutter. “Fine.” Back to muttering. “Do you… Well, what are your hobbies?”
“My hobbies?” Marlene wanted to punch her. “This isn’t some get-to-know-each-other thing, I want you to teach me!”
“Just— Do what I say for a minute, will you?”
Pursing her lips, Marlene nodded begrudgingly.
“Thanks,” Dorcas sighed. “So, hobbies?”
“Quidditch.”
Dorcas grinned at that. Marlene remembered that Dorcas was quite good at Quidditch too. “When did you first learn how to play?”
“When I was five.”
“What do you remember about it, did anything stick out?”
Marlene smiled to herself remembering it, and Dorcas looked at her eagerly. Before she could answer, Dorcas pointed, “Take that memory and hold onto it, McKinnon, and cast the spell.”
So she did as Dorcas said. “Expecto Patronum.”
Bursting from the tip of her wand to stand in front of her was a corporeal zebra.
She smiled at it. But then she noticed something funny about its stripes. They were too close together to be an actual zebra’s. They looked spiky, thin and sharp like needles, they were— Prickly.
They matched the spines of Dorcas’s porcupine. Holding her breath, Marlene glanced subtly towards Dorcas. But Dorcas had walked back over to her side of the room, and didn’t seem to have realised the similarity between their Patronuses in the slightest. Marlene exhaled in relief. If Dorcas was oblivious, then Marlene could pretend to be oblivious too. The resemblance of their Patronuses meant absolutely nothing. In fact, there wasn’t even a resemblance in the first place. None at all.
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kathlare · 2 days ago
Text
no strings attached
Lando Norris x Amelie Dayman
Summary: At a star-studded afterparty following the VMAs, Amelie finds herself urged by Taylor Swift to embrace a carefree night of fun and distraction.
Wordcount: 1.9 k
Warnings: suggestive content
full masterlist // request over here!
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September 12th, 2023 - Newark, NJ
The afterparty was in full swing, the air electric with the buzz of alcohol, neon lights, and celebrity gossip. Amelie nursed her second—maybe third—glass of champagne, the soft hum of music vibrating through her chest as she leaned against the bar. Her long black dress shimmered under the dim, colorful lights, catching glances from all corners of the room. She didn’t mind. She was used to it.
—Well, if it isn’t the heartbreaker herself,— Taylor Swift teased, sliding up beside her with a mischievous grin, a cocktail in hand. Taylor looked effortlessly stunning, as always, her energy magnetic. She’d swept the VMAs with multiple wins, and tonight, she was in the mood to celebrate—and stir the pot.
Amelie rolled her eyes, smiling despite herself. —I’m not a heartbreaker. That’s your title, Taylor.—
Taylor tilted her head, mock-offended. —Oh, please. You practically invented heartbreak, darling. I just made it rhyme.— She nudged Amelie playfully before lowering her voice conspiratorially. —But you’re way too broody tonight. What’s up?—
Amelie sighed, her fingers tracing the rim of her glass. —Nothing. Just tired, I guess.—
Taylor gave her a knowing look, the kind that saw straight through the bullshit. —No, no, no. We’re not doing that tonight. You’re at the fucking VMAs afterparty. You’re Amelie Dayman. Tired is for tomorrow. Tonight, you’re living.—
Amelie chuckled, shaking her head. —What exactly do you suggest, oh wise one?—
Taylor leaned in closer, her eyes sparkling with mischief. —You’ve been single for what, four months now? It’s time, babe. One night. No strings. Just fun.—
Amelie blinked at her. —You mean a one-night stand?— The words felt foreign on her tongue. She’d never done anything like that before. Casual hookups weren’t her thing—not really.
Taylor shrugged like it was the most obvious thing in the world. —Exactly. You’re overthinking it. Just find someone hot, have a little fun, and move on. It’s liberating. Trust me.—
Amelie hesitated, biting her lip. —I don’t know, Tay. That’s not really... me.—
—Why not?— Taylor countered. —You’re single, you’re hot, and half the people in this room would kill for your attention. Besides, you deserve a distraction. Someone to make you forget about... you know who.— Her voice softened at the end, but Amelie knew exactly what she meant. Lando. Lately, it always meant Lando.
Amelie laughed humorlessly, shaking her head. —That’s not why I’m...—
—Don’t care,— Taylor interrupted, grabbing her arm and pulling her toward the dance floor. —You’re doing this. Tonight.—
As they weaved through the crowd, Amelie felt the champagne settling warmly in her veins, the buzz of the night dulling her inhibitions. Taylor stopped abruptly, her eyes locking on someone across the room. —There. Perfect.—
Amelie followed her gaze and immediately recognized him. Jack Harlow. He was leaning casually against a booth, a beer in hand, his curls unruly and his grin magnetic as he chatted with a small group of people. He exuded confidence, charm, and just enough swagger to be intriguing.
—No,— Amelie said instinctively, shaking her head. —Absolutely not.—
Taylor smirked, her grip on Amelie’s arm tightening. —Oh, come on. He’s perfect. And he’s looking right at you.—
Amelie glanced back, and sure enough, Jack’s eyes met hers from across the room. He smiled, tilting his head slightly, as if inviting her over. Her heart skipped a beat.
—I can’t,— she whispered, though her feet didn’t move.
—You can,— Taylor said firmly, giving her a gentle push. —You’re welcome. Go be hot.—
Before Amelie could protest, Taylor melted back into the crowd, leaving her standing there like a deer in headlights. Jack raised an eyebrow, clearly waiting to see if she’d come over.
Fuck it. The champagne spoke louder than her hesitation, and she found herself walking toward him, her dress trailing behind her like a glittering wave.
As she approached Jack, he straightened up, his easy smile never faltering. He gave her a once-over, clearly appreciating the view. —Amelie, right?— His voice was smooth, with a hint of playful curiosity.
She nodded, feeling a strange rush of heat flooding her cheeks, though she didn’t know why. She’d been in the public eye for years, but something about the way he looked at her felt different. —Yeah, that’s me.—
Jack’s grin widened, and he gestured toward the empty space beside him. —Come on, sit down. Don’t tell me you’re here to just stand around. The night’s too young for that.—
Amelie hesitated for a split second before sliding into the booth next to him. His presence was magnetic—he wasn’t tall, but he had this laid-back yet confident aura, the kind that demanded attention without asking for it.
—So, uh, are you here with anyone?— Jack asked, his voice casual but laced with an undercurrent of curiosity.
Amelie took a deep breath, trying to focus. The combination of the alcohol and the electric atmosphere in the room made her feel lighter, freer. This wasn’t a conversation she would’ve had sober, but tonight, she was letting herself go. She glanced at him, feeling a spark of something she hadn’t felt in a while.
—No. Just me. I came alone, actually.— She found herself smiling despite the nerves. The words felt both real and unreal, she was here, at the afterparty, and Jack Harlow was talking to her like they weren’t worlds apart.
—Perfect, then. I don’t like sharing anyway,— he said with a wink, leaning in just enough for his words to feel intimate, yet not too forward. There was an edge to his flirtation, but it felt playful, not aggressive.
Amelie laughed, relaxing a little as the conversation flowed. —Yeah, I’m not really a fan of that either.—
He raised his glass. —Cheers to that. And to this... whatever this is.— His eyes lingered on her for a second too long, his gaze sharp yet inviting.
—This is... us talking, I guess.— She gave a teasing shrug. —But who knows what else it could be, right?—
Jack’s smile turned mischievous, his fingers tracing the rim of his bottle. —I’m definitely open to whatever happens next. Life’s too short, don’t you think?—
There was something in his eyes—something bold, daring. It was the kind of energy Amelie usually kept at arm’s length, but tonight, she was embracing it. Taylor’s voice echoed in her head, urging her to live a little. To do something she hadn’t done before. To forget about the past and just enjoy the moment.
—You’re right. Life’s too short,— she agreed, her voice low. She didn’t know what she was saying anymore, but it felt... liberating.
Jack grinned wider, clearly pleased with her response. He leaned forward, the proximity making her heart race a little faster. —So... what are you doing after this, Amelie?—
Her breath hitched, the question suddenly feeling charged. The music around them thudded in the background, the flashing lights bathing them both in a kaleidoscope of colors. For a moment, everything else disappeared.
—What are you suggesting?— she asked, her voice suddenly more confident than she’d intended.
—Maybe we should take this party somewhere else. Somewhere quieter. You, me, and the night, no strings attached.— Jack’s voice was smooth, like honey, and the way he said it made it sound like the most natural thing in the world.
Amelie’s mind raced, but the part of her that was tired of thinking, tired of holding back, decided to let go. She didn’t need a reason, and right now, she didn’t want to analyze anything. She needed a distraction. Something to fill the emptiness that had been lingering ever since her breakup with Rodrigo. She needed to prove to herself that she wasn’t stuck in the past, that she could let go and embrace the unknown.
—Okay, let’s go,— she said, surprising herself with how easily the words rolled off her tongue.
Jack’s grin deepened, and before she knew it, they were making their way out of the party. The air outside was a cool contrast to the heat of the club, but Amelie didn’t feel it. The adrenaline from the decision she’d just made coursed through her veins, replacing any hesitation with a rush of excitement. They walked through the streets, Jack’s hand finding its way to the small of her back, guiding her toward a private car parked nearby.
The drive to her apartment was quiet, the only sound the hum of the engine and the occasional glance exchanged between them. It wasn’t until they stepped into the elevator of her building that Amelie finally allowed herself to breathe. The weight of what was about to happen hit her all at once.
When the elevator doors slid open, Jack followed her into the apartment without hesitation. The lights in the living room were dim, casting a soft glow over the space. She felt strangely calm, even as the reality of the situation settled in.
Jack placed his beer down on the counter and turned to face her. —You sure about this?— His voice was serious now, though there was a trace of that same playful energy.
Amelie stood still for a moment, gathering her thoughts. Then, without a word, she closed the distance between them, cupping his face with both hands. The kiss was sudden, a spark of heat that spread through her entire body, igniting something she hadn’t felt in a while. Jack responded instantly, pulling her closer, his hands finding their way to her waist.
It wasn’t the most graceful thing—it was raw, intense, like two people giving in to an impulse they couldn’t explain. Clothes came off in a hurry, discarded carelessly on the floor as they stumbled toward her bedroom. The night felt like it had no rules, no boundaries. Just two people in the moment, pushing everything else away.
When she woke up the next morning, the sunlight streaming through the curtains was the only thing that reminded her the world hadn’t stopped while she’d been wrapped in the chaos of last night. Her head felt heavy, the dull ache of a hangover just beginning to settle in. She stretched out, feeling the sheets cool against her skin, and that’s when she noticed the emptiness beside her. Jack was gone.
Her heart skipped. For a split second, panic set in—had he left without a word? But as she glanced around the apartment, her eyes landed on a small note on the pillow where he had been. She picked it up, unfolding the paper.
"Thanks for the fun, Amelie. You’re amazing. Take care."
A smile tugged at her lips. He didn’t need to leave a note, but somehow it felt good. No drama, no promises—just a quiet exit, as if everything that had happened last night was exactly what it needed to be. A brief distraction. A release.
-------------
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liked by jackharlow, landonorris, and others
ameliedayman: vma in custom Vera Wang could shed a tear maybe i did
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amazingangel88: OH. MY. GOD. The dress, the vibe, the QUEEN. 💅
gracieabrams: you are a literal angel ✨ I’m not even sure how to comprehend this level of beauty, like do you even breathe??? 😭 → ameliedayman: @gracieabrams I do, I swear!
oliviarodrigo: UHHHHHHHH this dress is giving too much, Amelie. Are you trying to make us all cry? 💔 → amelie: @oliviarodrigo I mean, it’s for the vibes, right? 💀💅
f1girlies4life: WAIT LANDO?? 👀 but he's not even following her though? WHAT IS GOING ON
musiclovers_unite: Ohhh look who’s liking posts now, Lando’s back 😳🤭
callumdayman: I’m still getting used to seeing my little sister all grown up, but I’m proud as hell. Always shining.
jackharlowlover24: JACK HARLOW LIKED THE POST!!!! 👀👀👀 We LOVE to see it → onlyjackharlowtrulove: @jackharlowlover24 nah, but did he slide into her DMs after? 🤔🤔
elysia_dayman: Literally, why do you keep getting more stunning? Every year, you just keep proving you’re the prettiest.
emiliamernes: No puedo dejar de pensar en lo impresionante que te ves, Amelie. 💖💖 → ameliedayman: @emiliamernes ¡Mil gracias! Siempre me haces sonrojar. 😅
stella_dayman: Just when I think you can’t get more beautiful, you do. I’m so proud of you. Keep shining, darling. ✨
lantern_fan: Hold up. Lando is liking her posts again?? After all these years? We need answers! → itslouisf1: @lantern_fan Don’t read too much into it! They were friends, you know. He’s just showing support. 👀
lando4nation: If Lando’s not following but is still liking the posts…doesn’t that say something?? 🤔 → melissaf1fan: @lando4nation Guys, relax. It’s probably just a “friendly support” thing. But who knows 👀
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yeonmuse · 2 days ago
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`✦ˑ ִֶ 𓂃⊹ Curtain Call ·˚ ༘
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ᥫ᭡ f!reader x lee heeseung ── 𝒢enre. Uni au. fluff, non idol enha. feats. ot7 [reqs are open] ᝰ.ᐟ 𝓁ibrary 🪷
authors notes This is a follow up to Heeseungs side story in Can You Hear My Heart. It takes place directly after the final chapter of Jungwons Mini Series. This is not a Hee X Reader series, but if youd like to replace the characters name with your own feel free to. This is part of admins University series
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IN WHICH 𖤓 Heeseung has a thing for the theaters golden girl, he’s been crushing on her for months. He’s got it so bad for her that he somehow lets Jake talk him into attending auditions just to get closer to her.
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Quiet on set
The hell-like weekend had finally ended and it was now time to get back to classes and rehearsals. The fact that so much had happened in the timespan of just two days still completely shocked sakoia, obviously life was unpredictable and moved fast but she had never expected her weekend to turn out as it had. In two days alone she had met a new friend and lost her due to her being a complete snake.
Aside from the agonizing events of the weekend Sakoia did find herself smiling at the thought of Heeseung going out of his way just to make sure she knew he wasn’t an asshole. Though as quick as the smoke spread across her face it went away, she wouldn’t allow herself to sit and swoon over someone so easily. Though he made it hard, the last 2 months since Jungwons party, any time she’d seen him around or conversed with him he always had this way of making her laugh or smile. The confidence and charm he held could obviously draw a woman in, but it made her feel so easy how simple it was for him to worm his way into her thoughts.
She had been completely lost in her thoughts of the events from last night. She hadn’t realized Heeseung creeping up at her side as she walked.
“Lost in your pretty thoughts so early in the morning?” His voice snapped her back to her senses , warning a smile from Heeseung when she actually made eye contact with him.
“Mm thinking about everything that happened over the weekend, it was a complete shitshow.” Heeseung chuckles seemingly unbothered by the mention of the events, as long as she had forgiven him he truly didn’t care about anything else that had happened over the weekend.
“Mm yeah, ill have to find some sort of way to make it up to Nezz, since it was partially my fault her night was kind of spoiled.”
“Mm don’t worry too much about it, she knows it wasn’t your fault, her and Yuan were completely understating everything once I told them why you blew up like that, we all thought..”
“You thought?”
“We thought that maybe she was just a fling to you, earlier that night Nezza had said that you were the type to mess around, that you don’t usually date.” The tension in the air grew thick as the words left her mouth, she usually wasn’t the type to pre judge but the events of that night had her convinced that it was true up until he explained it all to her. As much as she hated it though, there was part of her that was still holding onto those words, wondering if they were true.
“She was right.” Sakoia felt her stomach twist in knotts at his response.
“She was right about back then yeah, way before, before a few months ago I couldn’t bother dating anyone, didn’t trust anyone enough to date them so yeah there were a few i did have flings with but, wasn’t exactly for me.”
“Is it because of her, Rena?”
“She’s part of the reason yeah, after that it was always hard for me to trust anyone so I steered away from the relationships and titles, though now I’ve had my eye on someone for a while now, been trying to get close to her, she’s the only one I’m really interested in dating.” There was a subtle silence between the two, she seemed lost in thought but all he could do was stare at her as they walked, all he could do was admire how beautiful she looked when she was lost in her own head.
The two of them eventually arrived at the auditorium, sheltered from the cold outside, and engulfed into the warmth of the building. This was their first official practice since the roles had been announced, and thankfully Heeseung wasn’t as nervous as before. Having spent more time with her he was now a lot more confident and comfortable in the role when it came to scenes with her.
Sakoia found heels watching him as he took off his jacket and threw it onto a seat in the front row. She found heels a little distracted after hearing his words earlier, so he was interested in someone. She was forced to come to her senses as the rest of the cast started sauntering into the auditorium, and the two were no longer alone.
For the first time since she started acting she found herself somewhat distracted when she’d look at him. Whether it was her trying to figure out who he had his eyes on, or her trying to distract herself from the fact that she did in fact find him attractive.
Meanwhile all Heeseung could think about was her, how pretty she looked, how angelic her voice sounded as she delivered her lines. The way her nose scrunched up whenever she was deep into her thoughts in between scenes. She was all that he saw.
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🔖 @sol3chu @butterflywonz @jwonistic @squiishymeow @river-demon-slayer @lillotus17 @dreeki @jiamini @st4rryst4r @firstclassjaylee @right-person-wrong-time @pkjay
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uceyliyahh · 21 hours ago
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NOVACANE
Summary: After dealing with a traumatic event in Desiree's past life she decided to keep her heart closed off and didn't have any desire to love again until she met him.
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smut warning; it’ll come in the story randomly so PLEASE, PLEASE look out for it I’m not really good at writing ✍🏽 smuts but I’m improving at the moment.
word count: 6513
Jey Uso x Desiree
AWFUL GRAMMAR IM GETTING BETTER I SWEAR LOL.
comments, likes, repost are appreciated I would love the constructive feedback in what area I need to approve in. 🤍
ALSO! I don’t not want nobody stealing my fanfics or take it as theirs that will be an issue fasho so keep it cute respectfully.
I only own my OC along with the make up scenarios
But I’ll be writing along the way since this story is in my drafts on Wattpad right now so yuh. 💁🏽‍♀️
TAGS ⬇️ lmk if you wanna be tag 🏷️@pinkwithhearts @420days @jstarr86 @empressdede @angiedawn02 @biancasreign
@bebesobrielo @skyesthebomb @aikosilo @papireigns-05 @punksyeet @paigereeder @magnificentbouquetmusic
@hunnidmilly @celesteheartsjey @charmed-dreamssss @fearlesschimera @partypoison00 @mselenalovebug @bloodlinesbabe93 @luvrsluxe @4milly @xbriexx @trippinsorrows @yyaktayak
Ø3
"I love you and only you,"
"I'm not like him, I am way more different from him,"
"Imma take care of you princess,"
"You Belong to me,"
OMNISCIENT Desiree found herself longing for Jey more and more each day as he traveled the globe for his wrestling tour. With every new experience he shared, she couldn't help but wish she were by his side, exploring the world together.
He would reach out to her through calls, texts, and even share pictures, and she reciprocated in kind. Desiree found herself reflecting deeply on their conversation from the other night when he visited her.
'I'm committed to staying by your side, ready to offer you the reassurance and love you truly deserve, if you allow me to.' This thought echoed in her mind, a reminder of his desire to love her in the way she needed after all she had been through. She found herself uncertain about whether she was prepared for that level of commitment because of her past experiences. However, Jey proves to her daily that he is not like Jayden; he is truly different.
At the workplace, the dynamics have shifted significantly. Ke'Liyah consistently shot disdainful looks at Desiree, spreading rumors that labeled her as desperate and promiscuous for her inability to maintain a relationship. However, Desiree remained unfazed by the negativity. She confidently asserted herself, ensuring that everyone knew she wouldn't tolerate such disrespect.
It was beyond her control that a striking Samoan man like him fell for her the moment he stepped through that door. When Bianca called, she shared every detail of the whirlwind of emotions and events that had unfolded since they left the house.
Bianca felt a surge of joy for her best friend and offered to fly her out to one of their house shows, ensuring she could spend time with Jey.
OTP Binky💗: girrrl you're goin to see me kick some ass out there! Desi🫶🏽: yeah I can't wait either I would always watch it on TV but not in person Binky💗: I know you wanna see yo' man Desi🫶🏽: he's not my man B Binky💗: girl that man loves you why don't you give him a chance? Desi🫶🏽: because I don't wanna just jump into a whole new relationship you know? After dealing with...Jayden Binky💗: I understand honey, but don't scare him off he seems genuine like I know the twins for a while now sis Desi🫶🏽: I hear you B, I hear you
Desiree took the time to meticulously pack all her belongings and ensure everything was in order before calling an Uber to the airport, guaranteeing that she wouldn't miss her flight.
Binky💗: you like Tennessee so far? Desi🫶🏽: yes I do honestly they have some good food and places down here to shop Binky💗: I agree Desi you got a Uber to the airport? Desi🫶🏽: yes and I'll be there Binky💗: text me when you arrive okay? Desi🫶🏽: kk
CALLED ENDED
Desiree noticed that her Uber driver was just two minutes away as she made her way downstairs with her small suitcase in tow. Despite the rain, she was grateful to have her hoodie on hand for such weather.
Jey was completely unaware that she was planning to surprise him, an act that was out of character for her. It was as if he was bringing out a side of her that she had long kept hidden from the world, allowing her to embrace her true self in a way she never thought possible.
Well except her best friend of course
For him, everything felt different; she would never make the effort to see a man she missed. As she arrived at the airport, she picked up her luggage and made her way inside the terminal to board her flight.
She informed Bianca that she had arrived at the airport and was just about to pick up her ticket for the flight to Cali, where they would be attending Monday Night Raw later tonight.
As she strolled toward the gate where the plane awaited, she settled onto a nearby seat, her book bag slung comfortably over her shoulder. Pulling out her iPad, she immersed herself in creating designs for her tattoos, a perfect way to pass the time before her flight.
Desiree embarked on her first day as a tattoo artist at the shop, and the customers were immediately drawn to her unique designs, particularly her Samoan artwork. Her deep admiration for Samoan culture shines through in her creations, which is why she felt such a strong connection to Jey's body art, appreciating the stories and meanings behind each piece.
She would never consider doing this for Jayden, especially since they are no longer together. Despite receiving threatening messages from unknown numbers, she consciously decides to ignore them.
"Flight B12 will be boarding now flight b12 will be boarding now from Tennessee to California,"
Desiree quickly gathered her belongings as she stood in line to board the plane. After her ticket was scanned, she made her way inside, relieved to find that her seat was unoccupied. This fortunate arrangement allowed her to enjoy her journey without any interruptions.
As she settled into her seat, she tucked her book bag between her legs. The familiar buzz of her phone in her pocket caught her attention. When she pulled it out, a smile spread across her face as she noticed a text from Jey.
IMESSAGE 💬 Joshua💵: hey mama Desiree🦋: hey Joshua💵: what you doing? Desiree🦋: I'm just busy on my iPad rn hbu? Joshua💵: in my locker room, thinking about you I miss you Desiree🦋: if I'm being honest I miss you too, I never missed someone this much Joshua💵: you'll get to see me soon mama Desiree🦋: I hope so Joshua💵: we can handle long distance together imma prove myself to you everyday Desiree🦋: okay but I gotta go I'll ttyl Joshua💵: aight mamas
Desiree activated airplane mode on her phone just as the plane prepared for takeoff. She slipped on her wireless headphones, selected her favorite tunes, and reclined her head against the seat, allowing her eyes to gently close.
⋇⋆✦⋆⋇ Desiree booked a nearby hotel and informed Bianca of her arrival, mentioning that she was on her way to the arena to see them. Understandably, she felt a wave of nerves; this was her first time attempting such a surprise for Jey.
It hasn't been long since they last met, so why wouldn't she take this opportunity? Dressed in a stylish black crop-top and relaxed baggy jeans, along with her favorite slides, Desiree glanced in the mirror and admired her reflection. She felt confident and ready for the night ahead, applying a touch of lip gloss and rubbing her lips together to achieve that perfect "pop" effect.
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biancabelairwwe replied to your story: Can't wait to see you girly uceyjucey replied to your story: where you goin mama? y2kjayden replied to your story: man you're such a whore where you heading to now? I think in I'm that area ke'liyah replied to your story: finna go steal someone else's man?
Desiree simply rolled her eyes at the responses from Jayden and Ke'Liyah. She refused to let their negativity affect her. Taking a final glance in the mirror, she then checked her phone and noticed that her Uber driver was in route.
She had never felt more confident for a man she had just met, even though he was encouraging her to embrace her true self. Just as she was about to leave, her phone buzzed with a notification that the Uber driver had arrived. With a quick grab of her purse and house keys, she stepped out the door, ready for the adventure ahead.
Desiree climbed into the Uber driver's car, ready for the ride to the arena.
Desiree arrived at the arena, her excitement palpable as she noticed the lengthy line stretching ahead of her. Grateful, she thanked the driver before stepping out of the car. As she approached the building, her eyes were drawn to the vibrant array of merchandise and championship belts displayed all around her.
She aimed to find something that symbolized Bianca and Jey, so she chose to purchase their shirts as a way to show her support. After acquiring the shirts, she joined the line to have her ticket scanned.
She navigated the security line and quickly sent a text to Bianca, letting her know she had arrived.
IMESSAGE 💬 Desi🫶🏽: hey I'm here Binky💗: hey! I'll come get you, you ready to see me and your man whoop some asses tonight? Desi🫶🏽: one last time B he isn't my man Binky💗: if he wasn't then you wouldn't be here right? see he's getting you out of your shell Desi Desi🫶🏽: whatever you say I'm just here to support you Binky💗: you're in such denial about him 😭😭 Desi🫶🏽: I'm not in denial Bianca 🙄 Binky💗: you say that now and then the next you'll be all over him I know you Desiree Desi🫶🏽: what the fuck ever Bianca let's stop talking about him and come get me 😒 Binky💗: aight aight calm down I'm down the hallway you should see me waving my hand at you Desi🫶🏽: kk
Desiree scanned the room and spotted Bianca, who was enthusiastically waving and beaming with joy. With a warm smile, Desiree made her way over and enveloped Bianca in a heartfelt embrace.
"Finally I get to see you, you know it's so boring at home," Desiree said.
"Hey, I'll be home after this tour, maybe Jey will be home too," she teased as Desiree nudge her in her arm.
"What??? I'm just saying,"
Desiree sighed dramatically as they strolled backstage toward her locker room. Along the way, she noticed numerous wrestlers preparing for their matches or chatting with friends, creating a lively atmosphere that buzzed with excitement.
As her gaze swept the room, she searched for Jey, longing to see him, to embrace him, to kiss him—she missed him deeply. Bianca observed that Desiree's attention was drifting away from their conversation, her eyes scanning the surroundings instead.
Bianca knew that Desiree had falling for Jey but didn't want to admit it due to her past, "If you're looking for Jey his locker room is down the hallway," what Bianca said had caught Desiree off guard blinking her eyes a few times before she could process what Bianca just said.
"What?" Desiree said.
"I said if you're looking for Jey his locker room is down the hallway." she repeated.
Desiree shook her head, "I'm not looking for him, let's go to your locker room B," Bianca chuckled at her as they went towards her locker room.
⋇⋆✦⋆⋇
DESIREE I found myself in Bianca's locker room, captivated by the intense match unfolding between Jimmy Uso and Solo. The two competitors bore a striking resemblance, almost as if they were brothers or closely related to Jey. As I watched, Jimmy delivered a stunning superkick right to Solo's face while he clung to the ropes. The impact was electrifying, and moments later, Jimmy unleashed another superkick, sending Solo tumbling over the ropes in a dramatic fashion.
The match turned out to be quite captivating, and I couldn't help but wonder if I would spot him in the crowd tonight. As I watched the action unfold, I noticed a figure in a black hoodie attacking Jimmy, delivering punches and kicks. It was a shocking moment that added an unexpected twist to the event.
I sensed that something was about to unfold as I watched them surround Jimmy, the sound of his music echoing in the background. Suddenly, there he was, emerging from the gorilla, charging into the ring to assist Jimmy.
I was completely captivated by his remarkable looks and graceful agility in the ring; it was hard to believe that this was his career. After unleashing a flurry of devastating super kicks to their faces, they all hurriedly exited the ring, doubled over in agony.
As the show transitioned to a commercial break, an overwhelming desire to visit him surged within me. Yet, I couldn't shake the thought that he might be preoccupied with other matters. Just then, the door creaked open, and in stepped Bianca, her appearance a whirlwind of sweat and fluster.
"Damn girl, who you been fighting?" I said.
"Miss Tiffany and Nia girl, they're so annoying," she said.
"I believe I spotted Jey heading into his locker room; it might be a great idea for you to go surprise him." But then again, how could she know what I was thinking? A wave of anxiety washed over me as I wrestled with my doubts. 'What if he doesn't want to see me?' 'What if there's someone else with him?' My mind was racing with all these unsettling thoughts, and Bianca seemed to pick up on my unease.
"Desi, enough with the overthinking! Just go see him," I said with a sigh, grabbing my purse and phone as I made my way to his locker room.
While making my way to his locker room, I unexpectedly collided with someone, landing squarely on my backside and gazing up at the individual.
"Oh my goodness I am so sorry, let me help you," Trinity said as she helped me up.
I brushed myself off and quickly offered my apologies for colliding with her. She smiled and reassured me it was no problem, but there was a spark of recognition in her eyes. "You're Desiree, aren't you? Bianca's best friend?" she inquired, and I confirmed with a nod.
"Yeah? And you are?"
"I'm Trinity, you the girl Jey has been raving about all week." It brought a smile to my face knowing he brags about me to his friends. We exchanged a handshake before diving into our conversation.
I mentioned to her that I was visiting Bianca and Him today to show my support before returning home for work, only to discover that she was Jey's sister-in-law.
She escorted me to his locker room and embraced me warmly, knowing she had an interview to attend shortly. Once Trinity departed, I knocked on his door, my heart racing with anticipation. I felt a mix of nerves and excitement at the thought of seeing him again after several months apart.
I could hear soft footsteps approaching the door, and as it swung open, I found myself staring up at him. Jey looked effortlessly amazing, his shirt absent and revealing his striking tribal tattoos. He wore black yeet sweats that perfectly complemented his laid-back style.
Including his Cuban link sliver chain over his neck, I could smell his cologne which smelt so good he had a smile appearing on his face before pulling me in for a hug.
"Mamas? What'chu doing here girl!" Jey exclaimed as he gave me a bear hug.
As he pulled me into his locker room and closed the door, I instinctively wrapped my arms and legs around him. He kissed my lips softly several times before gently setting me back on my feet, his hands firmly gripping my hips.
"Surprise, I came to see you," I said.
"You? Came to see me? That's new mama, I guess I am doing something right," he said as we began to chuckle.
I relaxed my shoulders, feeling a wave of relief wash over me as all my concerns and doubts about his happiness vanished in an instant. "So, where are you staying?"
"I'm staying at a hotel right now at the moment why?" I asked.
"Imma come see you so we could spend time with each other tonight if you're free," I truly missed him, and reconnecting would be the ideal way to make up for all the time we lost while being apart.
I felt a rush of excitement as his hands glided down to my backside, gripping me tightly and sending shivers through my body. With my arms wrapped around his neck, I gazed deeply into his eyes, overwhelmed by the thought, 'How can someone be so perfect? Perfect for someone as flawed as I am?' I leaned in even closer, and he mirrored my movement, our lips finally meeting in a soft, electrifying kiss.
As our lips danced together, I found myself surrendering to the warmth of his embrace. Deep down, I questioned whether I was truly in love with him, even if I was reluctant to acknowledge it. Jey's tongue playfully explored my mouth as he effortlessly lifted me by the thighs, carrying me to his couch.
He gently set me on the couch, positioning himself between my legs, our lips locked in an unbroken kiss.
"Fuck, I missed you so much baby," Jey muttered.
"I did too..." I muttered back, 'did I just say I missed this man?'
The kiss was messy and passionate, his tongue dancing in my mouth as I felt his arousal pressing against me. Jey broke the kiss, his gaze drifting down to the outfit I had chosen for the day.
"Damn, you look good mama, you did all this for me?" he asked.
I shot him an exasperated look, then playfully put my finger to my lips with a smile, "perhaps." Jey responded by kissing me again, this time moving to my neck, which made me let out a soft moan.
A grin blossomed on his face as he firmly yet gently held my throat, showering my neck with tender kisses. I surrendered to the moment, tilting my head back and allowing him to take control.
I whispered his name gently, hoping only he would catch the depth of my longing for him. 'Desi? Are you really letting him in?' 'Calm down,' I thought to myself, torn between the urge to push him away and the desire to keep him close.
His allure was so captivating that it felt like a powerful drug, one I couldn't break free from no matter how hard I tried. I gently traced my thumb along his cheeks, pressing my lips against his, as we lost ourselves in a rhythm that felt perfectly in tune.
As I arched my back in pleasure, I felt Jey lift up my shirt and latch onto my breast, swirling his tongue over my nipple. This man is going to kill me. "Oh my god, Josh, Fuck." As he sucked on my breast, I moaned.
"Shit, come use those pretty lips of yours mama," he pulled away from my breast as I was pulling down on his sweats seeing his dick ready to pop out from his boxers.
I pulled down his red PSD boxers down as his dick spring up hitting me in the face, I don't think it could fit down my throat even if I tried, I grabbed his shaft and began placing kisses on it while gazing up at him.
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He was gazing down at me caressing my hair as I began swirling my tongue around his mushroom tip before going down on him, I heard nothing but moans escaping his lips.
Jey threw his head back in pleasure while gripping onto my hair while I felt his hips thrusting inside of my mouth.
I could feel the tip of his dick in the back of my throat causing me to gag on his dick, he pulled out while getting a hold of my chin.
"Take a deep breath baby, relax your throat for me," I nodded my head obeying his words as he kept a hold of my throat and began pushing his dick inside of my mouth.
I relaxed my throat while breathing through my nose taking his length inside of my throat, I moved his shaft up and down continuously swirling my tongue on his mushroom tip tasting all of the saltiness from it.
His groans were like music to my ears, "just like that baby doll, just like that," he groaned as he sped us his pace inside of my mouth.
I held onto his thighs hearing that popping effect going in and out from my mouth while he faced fucked me, this was something I never done before not even with Jayden he would always be picky about things like this.
I could feel him growing inside of my mouth as my tongue glides through his shaft while I was playing with his balls, which caught him off guard but seemed to enjoy it.
I could feel Jey's eyes gazing down at me while I looked up at him with my innocent ones, which caused him to smile at me.
"You so fucking pretty mamas, you gon' let me nut in that pretty mouth of yours?" he cooed as I nodded my head in response.
Jey rolled his eyes in the back of his head thrusting his hips deeper inside of my mouth while tears were flowing down my cheeks feeling snot coming down as well taking him all in.
Feeling his dick twitch inside of my mouth as he continued to thrust and thrust, it felt like I was going to pass out at the moment.
I heard him cursing underneath his breath, "fuck, I'm finna cum," he warned me.
After a few more strokes down my throat I felt his warm semen shoot out inside of my mouth while hearing a loud groan escaping from his lips as his seeds were spilling down my throat.
I swallowed it up tasting the saltiness of it before he pulled away from my mouth.
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I could see his chest heaving up and down trying to catch his breath after having that orgasm, I got up from my knees grabbing me a napkin to wipe my mouth.
"Shit, I didn't know you had it like that girl," Jey said before wrapping his arms around my waist.
Desiree push him away now, what are you doing??
Why are you letting him get this close to you??
Jey kissed me on the cheek which caught me off guard as I turned my head looking at him through the mirror, we made eye contact with each other before giving a smile at one another.
"It's nothing special Joshua," I said as I threw the napkin away in the trash can.
"Mmcht, girl you trippin," all I could do was chuckle at him he was so perfect it wasn't fair that he wants to be with someone like me.
"I'm not," I sat down on the couch crossing my leg over while monitoring his movements.
While I was doing that I heard the door knocking as he went to go see who it was, I tried to peek my head from his shoulders to see who was he talking to.
But I just minded my business anyways watching the match on the TV screen before I heard him shutting the door.
That's when I heard him speak, "Hey, mama imma be back aight? Gotta go do this interview segment with my brother," Jey said as I nodded my head seeing him leaving the door.
I noticed that he had left his phone with him my curiosity was getting the best of me and wanted to look through his phone making sure that he wasn't hiding anything or playing in my face.
But I hesitated to get it due to what happened when I looked through Jayden's phone seeing all of those woman that he was texting behind my back.
Go through his phone Desiree
Do it
I grabbed his phone noticing that his phone had a passcode on it, 'damn it,' that's all I could think about I couldn't get into his phone.
Would he even let me look through his phone if I asked?
I placed his phone back to where it was while keeping myself occupied.
⋇⋆✦⋆⋇ I returned to my hotel room after spending some time at the arena catching up with Bianca. I truly missed my best friend and can't wait for her to come home after the tour. In the meantime, I was enjoying a delicious meal I ordered from the hotel menu when I suddenly felt my phone vibrate.
Upon picking it up, I noticed a message from Jey, and a smile spread across my face as I replied to him.
IMESSAGE 💬 Joshua💵: mama wya? Desiree🦋: I'm in my hotel room Joshua💵: lemme' come slide through Desiree🦋: Joshua... Joshua💵: what? C'mon mama I'm tryna see you before you leave Desiree🦋: we seen each other Josh Joshua💵: so? Why do you keep doing this baby?
God I love it when he calls me baby
Desiree🦋: because I don't understand what do you see in me Joshua💵: let me see, you're beautiful, talented, caring, soft spoken, loyal, do I need to add some more? Desiree🦋: nah you good Joshua💵: then what's the word?
Fuck, fuck, fuck, what am I going to say?
Desiree🦋: what are we going to do if you come over? Joshua💵: you know mama, I'm tryna spend some time with you girl Desiree🦋: alright I'll send you my hotel room number Joshua💵: bett see you in a little bit
Shit Desiree you gotta put on something cute for him
Wait don't do that you look good enough in your baggy sweats and tank top
I glanced into the mirror, checking that my hair was just right for his arrival. With him coming over, I couldn't help but wonder about his intentions for the evening. Was it just a casual encounter, or did he have something more in mind?
As I made my way back to bed, I switched off the lights in the room, leaving only the bathroom light on for safety. I picked up my iPad and started creating fresh tattoo designs for my clients, eager to showcase my work when I return home.
While creating tattoo designs, I found myself imagining how they would appear on Jey. The thought of inking him crossed my mind, but I doubt he would actually allow it.
I was engrossed in drawing on my iPad, as I often do, while a show played in the background on the TV. However, my thoughts kept drifting, particularly fixated on the idea of going through his phone.
I have to find out what's inside so I don't come off as foolish for someone who doesn't want me. Perhaps I could quietly access it while he's asleep by using his Face ID.
Or you could just ask Desiree I'm sure he'll give it to you without hesitation
As I was lost in my thoughts, a knock at the door jolted me from my bed. I quickly got up and pulled back the curtains, revealing Jey's car parked in the lot outside.
Damn he came here fast
As I glanced through the peephole, I spotted him standing there, hands tucked casually in his pockets. I swung the door open, and the moment our eyes met, a smile blossomed on his face.
Jey's gaze swept over my body, taking in every detail from head to toe. As I welcomed him into my hotel room and closed the door, I stood with my arms crossed, observing his every move. He always manages to look incredibly attractive whenever he approaches me.
He sat down on my bed waiting for me to come near him before speaking, "You just gonna stand there or bring yo' cute ass over here?" he said as I slowly walked over towards him getting between his legs.
I sensed his hand reaching for my waist, drawing me onto his lap and compelling me to turn and face him, his grip on my hips steady and assertive.
I couldn't help but roll my eyes at him as he stared up at me, his lips glistening from where he had just licked them. It was enough to make me turn my gaze elsewhere. 'Honestly, I can't tolerate this.'
"What? Why you keep looking away mama?"
I don't wanna admit to him that he makes me feel so wet and horny right now
"It's nothing Josh, don't worry about it," I said while he got a hold of my chin placing a soft kiss on my lips.
As our lips met, a natural rhythm took over, and I instinctively draped my arms around his neck. In a seamless motion, he shifted our positions, leaving me lying back on the bed with him hovering above me.
His strong hands intertwined with mine, which felt so small in comparison, as he positioned himself between my legs. I could feel his tongue exploring my mouth, and in that moment, I realized I had never felt such comfort with a man I had only met a few months prior.
Jey broke the kiss and started to trail kisses down my neck, asserting his claim on me. He lifted my tank top, exposing my perky breasts, and began to tease my nipple with his tongue, swirling it in a way that made me arch my back in response.
"J-Jesus...Josh..." I moaned softly seeing him gazing up at me.
"You miss daddy huh?"
"Yes...I missed..you so..much," I could feel him smirking.
Fuck I just admitted that I missed him
I mean i wasn't lying I did miss him a lot
Jey was so different from Jayden, when I was with Jayden at the time he wasn't this gentle with me he would always be rough but with Jey he takes his time.
As I lost myself in my thoughts, I barely noticed him sliding off my sweats and panties. He drew me closer, his face nestled between my legs, where he began to kiss my thighs and gently explore my most intimate areas, sending delightful shivers coursing through my body.
Jey was kissing me all over, really getting into it, and then he started swirling his tongue around my clit.
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the way his tongue was working magic on my pussy right now just made me feel like I was in a trance he was so gentle and genuine with it too, I didn't even flinch when he did as well he kept me in place so that I wouldn't escape but why would I?
This is some of the best head I'm getting right now
He gradually slipped two fingers inside me, thrusting in and out, making me moan while his tongue flicked up and down.
"Josh...fuck..."
"Mhm, look how wet you're for me baby," he muttered.
He was working me over with his fingers and tongue doing the same motion as I held my legs up so that he wouldn't have to feeling his other hand squeezing my right breast, his tongue glided over my glistening folds gazing up at me seeing that I was a moaning mess for him and only him.
That's when I began riding his face and fingers at the same time causing me to roll my eyes in the back of my head while doing so it felt so good feeling my clit being over simulated by him.
Every time he swirled his tongue over my bud I felt a tiny pit go down in my stomach nearing my orgasm, I gripped onto his mullet pushing his face deeper inside of my wet cunt. "D-daddy..." I whined gazing down at him.
"Gon' ahead make a mess on my face mamas, I want it all," 'he was such a sweet talker that's for sure' I could feel his beard getting wet in my wetness right now he was digging his fingers so deep inside of me almost hitting my g-spot so well.
My fingers were gripping onto the bed sheets circling my hips some more matching his movements knowing how he loved it when I did it, feeling him caressing my things as he continued to rack his tongue on my pussy lips
But I knew he wasn't going to let me cum so easily not just yet, he pulled his face and fingers away from me causing me to whine.
"Joshuaa, what the fuck," I cried out of annoyance as he chuckled at me before placing his glistening lips on to mine tasting myself.
"Calm down, little mama, daddy's got'chu aight?" Jey said softly.
Jey pulled down his sweats that hung low showing off the waistband of his boxers along with taking those off too seeing his dick spring up hitting him in his stomach, he stroke his dick before pulling me closer to the edge of the bed.
I saw him rubbing his dick onto my glistening pussy as he gently push himself inside of me hearing a gasp escaping his lips along with me moaning softly, that's where he began rolling his hips pumping his dick in and out of me.
"All of this for me?" Jey purred as his voice dropped a little bit making my pussy turn upside down.
"Yes, daddy, all for you and only you," I moaned while gazing up at him.
I bit the bottom of my lip watching him beat my pussy up he filled me up some good it didn't make sense, I could feel his hands slithering underneath my ass cheeks began thrusting deeply inside of me.
His dick had me seeing stars at this point as I slide my hands down towards my clit looking at him for permission to rub on it, he nodded his head as I wet my I wet my fingers up before rubbing my clit.
"Fuck, you look so pretty rubbing your pussy like that, keep goin for me baby," He praised me as he pummeled my insides.
My breast began to bounce and shake due to his intense thrust that he had going on causing me to throw my head back into the sheets. "Fuckkkk" I moaned gripping onto his biceps tightly.
"Mhmm gimme' that shit," he responded back as he continued to thrust inside of me.
I could feel my walls tightening around his dick as well as a pit going deep inside of my stomach hitting him in his chest to give him a warning, he pulled out from me seeing all of my warm juices squirt onto his chest.
"Got ya' ass squirting all over me huh?" I nodded my head while covering my face feeling embarrassed.
He removed my hands from my face placing as soft kiss on my lips, "don't be embarrassed baby, I love it," that put a smile on my face while pushing his dick back inside of me and began beating my shit in.
He wrapped his hand around my throat pounding into me deeply trying to chase his high like I did as his dick was coated up with my essence.
I could feel his dick gliding over my spot yet again as I wanted to run away from this so badly but I had to be a big girl and take it.
I loved the way his dick was coming in and out of me I could watch that all day if I wanted to, I could feel his dick twitching inside of me while he cursed underneath his breath gazing down at me with his dark eyes.
He leaned down whispering inside of my ear, "lemme' bust one in you mama," god I wish I wasn't on birth control right now I would've let him put a baby in me the way he speaking to me like this.
I nodded my head giving him permission as he continued to thrust and thrust until his movements were getting sloppy.
He let out a guttural moan, feeling his dick fill me up with his warm semen like a volcano, painted my walls so gently. "Fuck, that felt so fucking good," he groaned as he pulled out of me seeing his cum leak onto my beautiful chocolate body.
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Jey bent down and planted a few soft kisses on my lips before making his way to the bathroom to tidy up the remnants that lingered on my stomach. As I lay there, my breathing remained calm, eagerly anticipating his return.
He returned with a warm cloth, gently cleaning my stomach and intimate areas before tossing it into the trash. Jey then switched off the bathroom lights and approached the bed where I was waiting.
We nestled closely under the blanket, my head resting on his chest, listening to the rhythmic beat of his heart. As I looked up at him, I gently traced the designs on his tattooed skin, feeling a deep sense of connection.
"Come stay with me," Jey said as I gazed up at him with a perplexed expression.
"What do you mean stay with you?" I asked.
"I'm saying cancel your flight for tomorrow and come stay with me in Atlanta,"
Desiree no you remember what happened last time something like this happened and it went to straight to shit
Don't do this
"Joshua..."
He pressed his lips against mine before I could even voice my objections, silencing me in an instant. Our mouths danced together as they always had, but then he pulled back, looking deeply into my eyes. "Please, mama, I'm serious. I'm not here for games; I want to take care of you," he pleaded earnestly.
Desiree don't. do. it.
"Joshua that seems a bit much don't you think? What will I say to Bianca?" I said.
"I'll tell her myself aight? just let me take care of you mama, you deserve it," Jey is a great man, a very great man at that something that Jayden couldn't be for me.
I didn't know if I wanted to go through this with him despite my past relationship with Jayden and how he wanted me to move in with him it just scared me honestly.
"I'm scared Joshua..."
"Scared of what baby? I'm right here,"
"I wanna take things slowly I've been through way to much just to hop into another relationship you know?" He nodded his head understanding where I was coming from I knew he meant well but If I was going to go through this I had to take things slow.
I am mentally damaged
Mentally exhausted
And emotionally damaged
Jey grabbed a hold of my chin, "I understand princess, we'll take things easy aight just let me prove it," Jey said.
I noticed the seriousness in his eyes; he wasn't joking at all. I nodded in response, and then a smile broke across his face.
I hope I'm making the right decision in this
I pray he isn't like the rest of em or like Jayden in a way because my heart couldn't handle it anymore if he turns out to be them
Fuck what am I getting myself into?
NOVACANE
A/n: Jey is so patient with Desiree despite her being closed off and feeling scared but he's going to prove that he loves her more than anything.
I hope yall enjoy this chapter lmk in the comments below.
STAY UCEY.
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adhd-languages · 8 months ago
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You know those videos that are like “A day of my life in Japan 🇯🇵🌸”?
The Japanese have a version for Americans…
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I just saw a “packing an American bento” video. I’m obsessed.
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