#it took us a while cause we were watching it like normal people one or two eps a day

[jezebelblues]

live on tour (interlinked) | h.s | 2

pt 1, pt 2 (complete)

summary: we don't talk about it, it's something we don't do—cause once you go without it, nothing else will do.

cw: smut18+ unprotected (piv), degradation if u squint, choking, weed, alcohol, angst, sort of a slowburn idk, fem!reader, hs1rry

word count: approx 8.8k

| okay so here’s pt 2, smuts at the end LMFAO. sorry if u hate ! tumblr (right as i’m about to post) is like sorry too many words 🤪 so i had to SPLIT anyway

masterlist

Outside, rain drizzled. The show ended an hour ago, Harry was busy with greetings and photos. She stood in the doorway of the side exit, the breeze cool and carrying the scent of wet pavement and grass. 

A cigarette hung loosely between her fingers, stains of her lipstick kissed against the filter. She thought it’d quell her nausea, the pins and needles in her fingertips—but all it did was make her chest feel lighter. Everything else stayed. 

She’s heard the song a thousand times, rehearsals the entire summer, soundchecks, shows. But it was different this time. He pulled her to play with him for a reason, their unspoken games—it was a message. 

Her breath hitched as she jumped slightly, a gentle hand against her shoulder. It was Harry, a quiet greeting as he settled beside her, along the wall next to the door. His eyes swept over her face, her cheeks flushed from the cold, her eyes slightly glossed over. 

They had just stared at each other for a while, like their eyes held more words than their mouths could. She took her bottom lip between her teeth as she let the cigarette drift onto the gravel outside, watching the embers burn out under the rain. “Harry.” She sighed, her eyes soft, a frown on her lips. “This needs to stop.” 

He leaned his head against the cement wall, his gaze unwavering. “What does?”

She swallowed hard, shifting to lean into the opposite side of the door frame facing him, the heavy door still propped open. The wind danced in her hair, goosebumps cascading down her bare arms. “Whatever this is. Us. This is just work, Harry, I don’t get it.” 

“Just work?”

She paused, averting her eyes from his to glance back outside. There wasn’t much of a view, gravel, smooth pavement, a large chain-link fence that shook and sang in the wind. “I don’t get it. None of my other jobs have been like this. We tour, we play and it’s easy. Hell, half of the people on the Floyd revival were on coke and it was easier than this.” 

He studied her for a moment, his breaths heavy although he tried to lighten them. His eyebrows knit together, a glint of light shimmering along the edge of his pupil that painted him a tragic work of art. “Easy.” He managed, his voice ragged, as if it was a struggle to get the words out. “This isn’t a gig, or a studio session—we’re a band. A team. It isn’t supposed to be easy.”

She clenched her jaw, snapping her eyes back to his. “Don’t. It’s not about the band, it’s about you. You know exactly what you’re doing.” 

“And what’s that?”

“You get under my skin, Harry! And then you just fucking stay there and pick pick pick until you avoid me again.” 

“You do the same!” He was exasperated, his eyes widened as if he couldn’t believe what he was hearing. “That night in Nashville. It was normal, it was easy.” He echoed the word, mocking. “And you just pushed it away. S’constantly a step fucking toward, two steps back.”

Her belly continued to twist, her frown deepening. “Cause I don’t know what the hell you want from me.”

“What I want—” He broke off, running a hand through his hair as his voice cracked slightly. “You think I know what I want? This isn’t exactly easy for me either, YN.”

The admission stunned her into silence, the weight of his words settling heavily between them.

For a moment, the anger in his eyes flickered into something else—something raw and vulnerable—but it disappeared just as quickly, replaced by his usual guarded expression. “You’re not the only one trying to figure this out.” 

The silence between them thickened, pressing down like the weight of the rain-soaked clouds above. She opened her mouth to speak, but no words came. What was there to say?

Harry pushed off the wall, his movements deliberate but tense, his eyes still locked on her. For a moment, it looked like he might step closer, might reach for her, but his hands stayed stuffed into the pockets of his coat.

“You don’t get it,” he said finally, his voice low and hoarse, like it hurt to say the words. “You think I’m trying to mess with you? I’m just—” He stopped, jaw tightening as he looked away, toward the gravel outside. His hand raked through his hair again, his frustration palpable.

She crossed her arms tighter, trying to shield herself from the chill in the air—or maybe from him. “Then what? What are you just, Harry? Because all I see is you dragging me into something I didn’t ask for, and then acting like I’m the one making it difficult.”

His head snapped back toward her, a spark of anger flaring in his eyes. “You think I wanted this? You think I planned for this?” He motioned vaguely between them, his voice rising just enough to make her flinch. “Do you know how easy it’d be for me to just… not? To let this all go?”

“Then why don’t you?” she shot back, her voice sharp as she straightened up, uncrossing her arms.

The question hung in the air like a dare, but Harry didn’t take it. His lips parted slightly, like he was about to say something, but whatever it was, he swallowed it down. Instead, he let out a bitter laugh, shaking his head as he looked away again. “That’s the thing,” he muttered, his tone softer now, almost to himself. “I don’t know how.”

Her chest tightened, the weight of his words sinking into her ribs. But she refused to let him see the crack in her armor. She turned her face toward the rain, her jaw clenched, her breaths slow and measured.

“Well, maybe you should figure it out,” she said, her voice quieter but no less sharp. “Because I can’t keep doing this with you.”

Harry didn’t respond right away. His shoulders rose and fell with a deep, uneven breath, his face unreadable as he started to turn. “Fine,” he said, the word clipped, bitter. “Guess I’ll figure it out.”

He didn’t look back as he walked down the narrow hallway, out to wherever he was going. 

She stayed frozen in the doorway, her arms hanging limply at her sides, her heart pounding too loud in the quiet. The door swung slightly with the wind, creaking on its hinges as she leaned against the frame.

She bit down hard on her lip, a sharp pang of regret bubbling up inside her, but she shoved it down, stuffing it into the same corner where all the other unspoken things between them lived.

The cigarette embers had long since faded, leaving only the faint smell of ash and rain.

Once you go without it, nothing else will do. 

-

The bassline thumped steadily, drowning out conversation and vibrating through the floor of the packed venue. Laughter spilled over from corners where small groups huddled close, their faces flushed with warmth and the buzz of alcohol. Fairy lights strung haphazardly along the ceiling flickered, giving the room an ethereal glow that blurred edges and softened harsh lines. It was October second, a free evening before they had to start gearing up for Toronto, and they had found themselves at this party—an impromptu gathering of familiar and unfamiliar faces.

They had a few days to rest before they geared up for the Toronto show.

YN moved through the throng like a thread of color in an otherwise monotone fabric. Her dress clung to her in all the right places, its silky material catching the light with every movement. Her makeup was immaculate, her lips a striking shade that dared anyone to look away. Heads turned as she passed, her heels clicking faintly against the hardwood floor beneath the relentless pulse of the music.

Across the room, Harry caught the glance of a mutual friend before his gaze settled on her. She hadn’t noticed him yet—or perhaps she was pretending not to. That had been their dynamic since the DC show—stolen glances, sharp words, and an undercurrent of something unresolved that simmered just below the surface. Tonight wasn’t much different. If she felt his eyes on her, she didn’t show it. Instead, she let herself be led toward the bar by a guy whose name she couldn’t quite recall but whose interest in her was overtly clear.

Leo—or maybe it was Geo— was tall, broad-shouldered, with a smooth voice and easy laugh. He leaned in close, brushing his fingers lightly against her arm as he spoke, and her lips curved into a smile that didn’t quite reach her eyes. It wasn’t that she found him unappealing—he was attractive enough, charming in a way that was disarming—but she was using him. His attention was a distraction, a convenient shield from the simmering tension she refused to address. She wasn’t about to let Harry consume her thoughts tonight.

“Another drink?” Leo–Geo asked, his voice warm against her ear.

She nodded, watching as he flagged down the bartender and ordered for her. When the drink came, he handed it to her, his fingers grazing hers deliberately. She didn’t pull away. If anything, she leaned into him, tilting her head to laugh at something he said. She wasn’t entirely listening, but it didn’t matter. She let him lead her to the edge of the dance floor, where the music was louder and the lights flashed in dizzying patterns.

His hands found her waist as they swayed together, the rhythm of the music guiding their movements. She felt his breath against her skin as he leaned in, his lips grazing the curve of her neck. It was easy, his touch, his attention. It dulled the edges of her thoughts, made the heat of Harry’s gaze on her back easier to ignore.

For a moment, she let herself get lost in it.

But Harry was watching. He stood near the edge of the room, his arms crossed tightly over his chest. The muscles in his jaw worked as he watched her laugh at something the other man said, her hand brushing lightly against the stranger’s chest. His stomach twisted, anger and something else—something sharper, more possessive—flaring within him. He told himself to leave it alone, to let her do what she wanted. But then he saw them moving toward the door, her hand loosely clasped in the other man’s.

Something in him snapped.

He moved quickly, weaving through the crowd with single-minded determination. She didn’t see him coming, not until his hand closed around her arm in a firm grip.

“What the hell are you doing?” His voice was low, controlled, but there was no mistaking the anger in it.

She froze, her wide eyes meeting his for the first time all night. Her companion, caught off guard, let go of her hand and stepped back.

“Excuse me?” Her eyebrows furrowed, her voice laced with irritation.

“I said, what the hell are you doing?” he repeated, his grip on her arm tightening slightly.

“Let go of me, Harry,” she snapped, tugging her arm free. But he didn’t let go. Instead, he pulled her a step closer, his green eyes boring into hers.

“Do you even know his name?” he asked, his voice dripping with disdain.

Her lips parted, but no answer came. She didn’t know his name, and they both knew it.

“That’s what I thought,” Harry muttered, his jaw clenched. “You’re not going anywhere with him.”

“Harry what—no!” Her voice was louder now, drawing a few curious glances from the people around them. “You don’t get to decide what I do.”

He only ignored her.

“Harry—”

“Go,” Harry said sharply, cutting her off as he turned his attention to the other man. “Now.”

The man hesitated, glancing between them before holding up his hands in mock surrender. “Alright, mate. She’s all yours.”

With that, he turned and disappeared into the crowd, leaving the two of them alone in a small bubble of tension that felt ready to burst.

“Are you happy now?” she asked, her voice shaking with anger, eyes threatening to gloss over. 

“You were about t’leave with a stranger,” he said, his voice still low but tinged with frustration.

“So what if I was? What does it matter to you?”

“It—“ He paused, voice barely above a whisper. His hand finally dropped from her arm, but he didn’t step back. Instead, he leaned in closer, his eyes searching hers. “Forget it, YN.”

The music pounded around them, but neither of them moved. The weight of his words hung heavy between them, unspoken things simmering just below the surface. She opened her mouth to speak, but no words came.

And then, abruptly, he turned and walked away, leaving her standing alone in the middle of the crowded room, her heart racing and her mind spinning.

After a while, she found her way back to the bar. YN perched on the edge of a high stool, her fingers wrapped around the cold glass of a freshly poured Midori Sour. She wasn’t sure why she kept ordering them—maybe because they were sweet enough to soften the edges of her mood. Maybe because the tang of melon lingered on her tongue in a way she liked. Or maybe because she knew it annoyed him.

From the corner of her eye, she could see Harry approaching, his strides long and purposeful, the faint clink of his rings catching her attention before anything else. He stopped beside her, leaning against the bar with an infuriating casualness, his profile sharp under the low-hanging lights.

“Another one of those?” he asked, his voice low but distinctly mocking. He gestured toward her drink with a tilt of his head. “You’ve got the palate of a teenager.”

YN didn’t even glance at him. “And you’ve got the personality of a Jack and Coke. Bitter, basic, and way too predictable.”

The bartender chuckled as he slid Harry’s drink across the counter. Harry’s lips twitched at the corners, not quite a smile but enough to tell her her barb had landed.

“Predictable, am I?” he asked, lifting his glass to his lips. His voice was softer now, dangerous in the way it dripped with quiet confidence. “At least I’m not clinging to a sugar high like I’m at prom.”

YN finally turned her head, meeting his gaze dead-on. Those green eyes of his were sharper than the whiskey he was sipping, and the way they pinned her in place made her chest tighten—not that she’d ever admit it.

“At least I’m not controlling your night to avoid saying what I really want to say,” she shot back, her voice steady but low, just for him.

Harry blinked, his brows raising slightly in surprise before he composed himself. He set his glass down on the counter, leaning closer, his voice dropping to a near whisper. “And what exactly is it you think I’m hiding?”

The word love slid off his tongue like a taunt, curling around her like smoke. It wasn’t affectionate—it was a challenge, one that dared her to push back. And god, did she want to push back.

YN leaned in too, her face just close enough to his that she could smell the whiskey on his breath, warm and heady. “I think you’ve got a lot of things you don’t say out loud,” she murmured, her voice barely audible over the noise of the bar. “But don’t worry, Harry. I’m not dying to know.”

The tension between them was suffocating now, thick and electric. She saw the way his jaw tightened, the way his fingers flexed against his glass like he was resisting the urge to reach for her instead. Her pulse hammered in her throat, each beat daring her to stay in this dangerous little game they’d started.

“You think you’ve got me all figured out,” Harry said finally, his voice like velvet lined with steel. “But you’re wrong, YN. Dead wrong.”

Her name on his lips was her undoing. She stood abruptly, grabbing her bag and tossing a few bills on the counter. “Why are you here again, Harry?” She muttered, “Your jealousy, which you refuse to admit, is insufferable. You ruined my night and I want to drink.”

Silence.

She rolled her eyes. “I’m not doing this.” Her voice was low, laced in anger as she spun on her heel and headed toward the back of the bar where the restrooms were tucked away.

But of course, he followed.

She could hear him behind her, the weight of his footsteps matching the rhythm of her pounding heart. She ignored him, turning a tight corner.

“Don’t walk away from me,” he shouted, his voice low and gravelly. He was close—too close—and she could feel the heat radiating off him, suffusing her skin like a fever.

“Go away, Harry,” she said through clenched teeth, still nearing the bathroom doors that seemed to get farther and farther away with every step she took.

He stepped in front of her, one large step he made quickly and without effort. “Not until you tell me what your problem is,” he snapped. His hands smacking against the walls abruptly, caging her in. His chest was barely an inch from her back, and she could feel the way his breath hitched, like he was struggling to keep his composure.

YN whirled around, forcing him to step back just enough to meet her glare. “My problem?” she repeated, her voice sharp enough to cut. “My problem is you. You’ve been a thorn in my side since June, and I’m sick of it. Sick of the looks, the comments, the—”

“The what?” Harry interrupted, his voice rising. “The fact that I actually give a shit about what you’re doing? The fact that I care if you’re about to make a mistake?”

“A mistake?” she echoed, her eyes blazing. “What the hell do you care if I—”

“What was his name, YN?” He spit, an echo from earlier, nostrils flared and jaw tight. He already knew the answer, she didn’t know. 

She bit the inside of her cheek, trying to keep her anger to a low simmer. “Fuck you.”

They didn’t just hold each other’s gaze. They gripped it. Like a rope stretched between them, fraying under the strain. Her scoff sliced the moment clean, and she ducked under his arm, her stride sharp, deliberate, toward the bathroom door.

Her fingers curled around the knob, twisting it with the kind of force that spoke louder than words. The door swung open, her heels clicking against the tile, a precise rhythm against the muted bass thumping somewhere beyond the purple-painted walls. She spun, gripping the edge of the door, and shoved it back with all the fury her body could muster. But it didn’t slam. It hit something solid—a thud, then a jolt.

His hand, metal rings against wood.

The door ricocheted toward her before she even registered what had happened. He stepped in, the breadth of him filling the space, his palm swallowing the knob as he pushed it shut behind him. The twist of the lock was a gunshot in the silence, louder than the music bleeding through the cracks.

“Are you fucking serious?” Her voice was a hiss, low and venomous, the kind of sound that cut through everything. Her chest heaved, each breath shallow and sharp, the thin sheen of sweat glinting along her collarbone like glass shards catching the light.

The room was alive, though barely. A flickering bulb above them glowed warm and harsh, its glass casing distorting the light into fractured halos. Yet, there were blues bleeding from LED's in the corner, washing them in warmth and cobalt—fire and ice.

His gaze dragged down her body like he couldn’t stop himself, like she was a work of art, damning and divine all at once. She was something out of a fever dream—wild, furious, her beauty distorted by the tension in the air. “We didn’t get to finish.”

Her laugh came hard and bitter, her nostrils flaring as she raked her fingers through her hair. “Finish what? This?” She threw her hands out, exasperation dripping from every gesture. “This isn’t fucking worth it!”

But he wasn’t looking at her hands. His eyes were on her lips, her eyes, back to her lips—then lower. Her chest, rising and falling. Anger looked good on her, he thought. Anger looked good enough to ruin him. “You didn’t hear me,” he said, quieter this time.

He stepped closer, and the air between them shifted. Compressed. Heavy. Her back hit the wall before she realized she’d even moved, the cool tile shocking against the heat rolling off her skin. She pressed her palms flat against it as though the room was tilting, threatening to spill her out into some uncharted void.

He loomed over her—it was foreboding, yet, it made a heat pool between her thighs. 

“Get out.” She murmured, but her voice cracked under the weight of her own trembling breath. There was no steel in the words. Only rust.

“Say it like you mean it.” His voice was smoke, burning slow and low, roughened edges catching on her nerves. He was too close now, close enough that she could smell him—whiskey and spearmint, aftershave, and something deeper, earthier. The heat of him radiated against her skin.

Her eyes darted to his mouth, to the thin line of his jaw, then lower—to the silver chain around his neck. The pendant at the center gleamed faintly, catching the light like a drop of molten metal. It glimmered orange, blue—a ripple in the ocean bathed in harvest moon. “Harry—” she started, his name trembling on her lips.

But before she could say more, his mouth was on hers.

The kiss wasn’t soft. It wasn’t careful. It was raw, like barbed wire snapping, cutting deep and fast. She gasped against him, her hands clutching the fabric of his shirt, twisting it into her fists as if to keep herself upright. His body molded into hers, chest to chest, hip to hip, the press of him heavy and solid and absolutely inescapable.

“I hate you,” she muttered, the words breaking into his mouth, dancing onto his tongue. Her fingers were already tugging at the buttons of his shirt, feverish and clumsy, her frustration bleeding into every movement.

He moaned into her, guttural, reverberating from the bottom of his throat. “I know.” He breathed, his lips brushing along her jaw, down her neck.

Her head tipped back, hitting the tile with a soft thud, her hands shoving his shirt open. Her fingers traced his chest, dragging across the heat of his skin. “Fuck—you’re an asshole.” She bit out, her voice shaking with something between anger and desperation.

His lips curved into a crooked smile, amusement tugging at the edges even as his breath hitched. “Keep going,” he urged, his words strained but teasing, his hands finding the curve of her waist. His grip was firm, grounding her as if the tension might otherwise consume them both.

Her mouth crashed against his again, this time harder, rougher. Her fingers curled into his hair, tugging like she wanted to hurt him, to punish him for every maddening, chaotic feeling he’d pulled out of her. Every shiver. Every breath. Every ache.

“I hate how much I want this,” she admitted, her voice barely a whisper, trembling with something raw and unfiltered.

“Yeah?” He sighed, his lips brushing hers, his voice cracked and ragged. He tilted his head, his dark eyes locking with hers, his gaze searing. “Hate me all you want, but you’re not stopping. Are you?”

Her only response was another kiss, pulling him closer, harder, until the line between them blurred. Until all the anger, the longing, the fire consuming them burned the world around them into ash.

Her fingers found his belt with a kind of determination that burned. Leather sliding through brass, sharp and deliberate. Her nails scraped his stomach as she pushed the belt free, her movements jerky, impatient. Every tug of her hands felt like a challenge, every drag of her fingers against his skin like she wanted to leave a mark.

"You think this is gonna fix anything?" she spat, her voice low and trembling, caught somewhere between anger and something that tasted sweeter. Bitter edges trying to cut through the heat swelling between them.

"Never said it would," he murmured, his voice rough, a rasp that settled low in her chest. His hands were already under her dress, sliding up the backs of her thighs. His grip was firm, too tight, bruising—like he was trying to make sure she wouldn't slip away. 

When he bunched the fabric over her hips, the sound of it pulling free from her skin filled the air between them.

"You just can't help yourself, can you?" she bit out, her words sharp and breathless, her desire, her anger tearing through her. Her hands shoved his pants down, knuckles brushing against him in a way that made her stomach twist.

His laugh was dark, rasping out like a rough scrape of metal. "Says the one tearing my clothes off."

"Don't flatter yourself," she snapped, but her voice cracked, betraying her even as she glared up at him. "This doesn't mean anything."

"Sure, it doesn't." His words dripped with mockery—a blade under silk. His mouth brushed against her neck now, teeth grazing her skin. "Keep saying it, YN. You're real convincing."

Her head tipped back as he bit at her skin, the scrape of his teeth followed by the heat of his tongue. "You're so fucking–“ she started, but her words dissolved into a sharp gasp when his hand slid between her thighs, dragging over the thin barrier of lace that still clung to her.

"What was that?" He hummed, his tone laced with dark amusement, his fingers pressing into her just enough to make her hips roll forward, chasing him. "Didn't quite catch it."

"Don't," she managed, though her voice wavered, her breath catching as he moved against her again, more deliberate this time.

"Don't what?" he teased, his lips brushing her ear now, his free hand gripping her thigh and pulling it higher around his waist. His body pressed against hers, the hard line of him undeniable, the heat radiating off him making her skin burn. "Don't stop? Don't touch you?"

Her hands tangled in his hair, yanking hard enough to make him hiss through his teeth. "Don't act like you have the upper hand," she shot back, though her voice was shaking, her chest rising and falling against his as though the air between them had thinned.

His laugh rumbled against her skin, low and rough. "Petal, l've had the upper hand since the second you let me touch you."

"You're delusional," she snarled, but her body betrayed her again, arching into him as his fingers slipped beneath the lace, her cunt slick with arousal. A broken sound escaped her throat, and her nails dragged across his scalp.

"Yeah?" he breathed, his voice darker now, tinged with something ragged, unsteady. His lips caught the corner of her jaw, moving toward her mouth but stopping just short. "Then why are you shaking?"

"God, you're insufferable."

"And you're not going anywhere.” Harry's hands found her waist with the kind of grip that could bruise, his fingers digging in as he spun her around without warning. The breath caught in her throat as her body collided with the edge of the sink counter, her palms bracing against the cool marble. 

She caught his eyes in the mirror, dark and feral, locked on her like she was prey.

"Look at you," he muttered, his voice low and rough, like gravel scraping the edges of his throat. His hands moved to her hips, holding her still as he pressed himself against her. The solid heat of him burned through the fabric separating them, and she bit down hard on her lip to stop the sound threatening to escape. "Desperate for it, huh?”

"No.” she quipped, but her voice wasn't as sharp as she wanted it to be. Her reflection gave her away—her lips parted, her chest heaving, her thighs trembling just enough to notice. "You're so goddamn cocky. It's disgusting."

He ignored her, or maybe he loved it—she couldn't tell. His hands left her hips briefly, his fingers moving to his slacks, shoving them all the way down in a rough, impatient motion. The sound of the fabric brushing against his legs filled the space between them, quick and deliberate.

Harry's hand slid up her front, rough but with ease, fingers curling under her chin. His grip was firm, enough to keep her still, his thumb brushing just once over the edge of her jaw before tilting her head up. The mirror stared back at her, unforgiving and vivid, and his chest pressed hard against her back, pinning her in place. "Eyes up," he muttered, low and commanding, his breath hot against the side of her neck. 

His fingers flexed under her chin, urging her gaze to meet their reflection. "You're gonna watch, yeah? Gonna see exactly what I do to you."

She didn't answer—couldn't. Her breath hitched in her throat, and her body shivered under his touch.

His free hand slid lower, over her stomach, down between her thighs, where his fingers paused, resting just above where she needed him most.

He tutted, staring her reflection down. "Dripping mess already." He smiled, slow and wicked, his lips brushing her ear. "You think that guy could do this to you? Hm? Think he could get you this wet?"

"Shut up," she bit out, though her voice lacked conviction, trembling just like the rest of her. Her hands gripped the edge of the sink, knuckles white against the cool marble, desperate for something solid to hold on to.

Harry's laugh was dark, rich, vibrating against her back. "That's not a no.” He drawled, dragging his fingers down, brushing over her slick folds in a featherlight touch that made her legs shake. "What is it, then? You just don't wanna admit it?"

"Admit what?" she shook, her tone sharp, though her hips betrayed her by rolling forward, chasing his hand.

"That no one else could make y’feel like this." His fingers pressed in harder now, slow and teasing as they circled her clit. His other hand kept her chin steady, forcing her to watch as his fingers moved, dragging against her in slow, maddening circles. "Look at you, YN. Fucking dripping for me. You see that?"

Her eyes flicked to the mirror, catching the way his hand disappeared between her thighs, the glint of wetness coating his fingers as they moved. Her cheeks flushed hot, but she couldn't tear her gaze away, her body betraying her with every soft sound slipping from her lips.

"Harry—“ she gasped, but her voice broke into a moan as he pressed his fingers harder, rolling them against her with deliberate pressure.

"There she is," he smiled, his tone mocking but warm, like he'd been waiting for her to break. "That's it. Don't hold back. I want you t’hear yourself, yeah? Want to know what y’sound like when it's me making you fall apart."

Her hands shook against the counter, nails digging into the marble as his fingers slowed again, agonizingly teasing. Her body jerked, desperate for more, and he smiled, smug and lazy, like he had all the time in the world.

"H, please–“ she whined, the words slipping out before she could stop them.

"Please, what?" he tutted, his voice dropping lower, rougher. His fingers dragged down, slipping inside her cunt just enough to make her gasp, then pulling out again. "Use your words, YN. Tell me what y’need."

"I hate you," she muttered, but it sounded hollow, the tremble in her voice giving her away entirely.

"Not what I asked," he growled, and his teeth scraped against the curve of her shoulder, a sharp bite that made her head snap back. His fingers pressed into her again, this time deeper, curling just right, and a loud moan broke free from her chest, her body arching against him.

"Look at that," he whispered, his hand still steady on her chin, holding her in place. "Look at you, petal. Such a pretty little slut for me." His thumb brushed over her clit now, slow but deliberate, and her hips rocked into him, chasing every movement. "You like watching, don't you? Like seeing what I do t’you."

Her only answer was another moan, louder this time, her lips parting as her head fell forward—but his hand caught her, tilting her chin back up. "No," he murmured, soft but firm. "Keep watching."

Her reflection burned into her vision—the way her mouth hung open, her cheeks flushed and glowing, her body pressed tight against his. The sight of his fingers moving, disappearing into her before dragging back out, glistening with her arousal.

"Good girl.” He breathed, his voice rough now, almost reverent. His free hand slid to her hip, holding her steady as he shifted behind her, his body pressing closer. "Now, keep your eyes on me. I'm not done with you yet."

Harry's fingers slid out of her slowly, teasing the slick heat between her thighs, a deliberate rhythm that left her trembling. The pressure was enough to keep her on edge, never enough to tip her over.

Every moan she tried to swallow only fueled him, and he made sure she knew it. "Fuck, look at you," he muttered, his voice a low rasp against her ear. "Falling apart on my fingers, and I haven't even fucked you yet.“

"Shut up," she breathed, but the bite in her tone was fading, her resolve crumbling with every slow, maddening drag of his fingers. Her thighs quivered, her knees barely holding her upright, and her hands gripped the edge of the sink like it was the only thing keeping her grounded.

"Thought so," he said, smug and soft, the corner of his mouth tugging up in a wicked grin. His thumb circled her clit, slow and firm, drawing a whimper from her lips she couldn't hold back. "No one else knows how to ruin you, do they?"

Her body jerked against him, hips pressing into his hand despite the defiance still burning in her eyes. She wanted to tell him off, to push him away, but her voice broke every time she tried, each sound melting into a moan.

"Thought you were tougher than this," he taunted, his breath hot against her neck, his chest firm against her back. "Guess I was wrong. Just a mess for me, aren't you?"

Her head tipped forward, a choked sound escaping her throat, but his hand was there again, his fingers curling under her chin, tilting her face up to meet the mirror. "Uh-uh," he snapped. "Don’t let me see you do that again.” 

Her reflection was a blur of flushed skin and trembling limbs. Her lips were parted, swollen and wet, her breath coming in sharp, uneven bursts.

His chest, exposed by the open shirt still hanging from his shoulders, pressed against her back, radiating heat. The sight of his hand moving between her legs, glistening with her arousal, was almost too much to bear.

"Harry—" she gasped, her voice cracking, her fingers gripping the sink harder, her knuckles white against the marble.

"Say my name again," he growled, his tone dark and dangerous, his fingers pressing deeper, drawing a broken moan from her lips. "Go on, petal. Let’s hear it.”

Just as her hips bucked into his hand, chasing the pressure, he pulled his fingers away, leaving her empty and trembling. She let out a frustrated whimper, her nails biting into the counter's edge, but before she could snap at him, his hand slid to her throat, curling around it in one firm, possessive grip.

"Patience,” he murmured, though his tone dripped with mockery, his lips grazing the curve of her jaw as he pulled her tighter against him. "Want it so bad? I'll give it to you, but you better fucking take it."

She felt him behind her, his hard cock pressing insistently against her, the rough fabric of his boxers catching on her skin before she shoved them down. The anticipation coiled tight in her stomach, her breath hitching as he pushed them down just enough to free himself.

His free hand guided himself to her, dragging the head of his cock along her slick folds, slow and deliberate, just to make her squirm. He laughed when her hips rolled back against him, desperate for more.

"So fucking needy. Bet you'd beg for it if I made you."

She gasped, her voice shaking as her body pressed into his.

The words caught in her throat, tangled with the moan that escaped when he finally moved, thrusting into her with one hard, unrelenting motion. A cry tore from her lips, loud and unrestrained, her body arching against him as he filled her completely. He groaned low in her ear, his hand on her throat steadying her, his other hand gripping her hip so tightly it felt like he was branding her.

The stretch was slow, deliberate, the sharpness of it stealing the breath from her lungs as he filled her inch by inch. “So fucking tight—y’feel that? How perfect y’are for me?”

Her nails scratched against the smooth marble as he moved, each thrust deep and deliberate, pulling sounds from her she couldn't control. Her body arched into him, her head tipping back against his shoulder, her resolve finally shattering. "God, you're so fucking good like this," he rasped, his teeth grazing her earlobe. "Taking me so well. Look at yourself, angel. Look how fucking gorgeous y’are right now."

Her eyes fluttered open, catching their reflection again—her body against his, his shirt hanging loose on his frame, his hands commanding her as though she was his entirely. The sight burned into her, sending heat pooling low in her belly, her thighs trembling as he kept pushing her further and further.

And despite everything—her anger, her pride, her sharp tongue—she couldn't hold back the moans spilling from her lips, louder now, desperate and broken, as her body gave in to him completely.

Harry didn't ease up, not for a second. Each thrust was deep, rough, his grip on her hips bruising as he yanked her back into him, forcing her to take every inch. The slap of skin on skin echoed in the small room, mingling with her ragged breaths and broken moans, her body arching under his hands like it was built for this, for him.

"Love this cock, don’t you?" he growled, his voice gravel and heat, his chest pressing harder into her back. "Like how I fucking ruin you?"

"Please," she bit out, her voice sharp, defiant, even as it fell out as a moan. Her fingers clawed at the sink counter, nails scratching the smooth surface as her legs quivered beneath her. But still, she smirked, tilting her head just enough to catch his reflection in the mirror. "I’ve been fucked harder.” 

Harry's laugh was low, a sound that rolled through her chest. "You're really gonna start with that?" he grunted, his voice a rasp of rough edges and heat. His hand slid up her back, the weight of it pushing her down until her cheek brushed the counter. The angle shifted, sharper now, and when he thrust again, a cry ripped from her lips before she could choke it back.

"And there it is," he moaned, his tone mocking, pleased. "That shut you up quick, didn't it?"

But she didn't give in. She never did. Her smirk twisted into something sharper, her breath coming in uneven bursts as she rolled her hips back against him just to prove she could. "Yeah," she slurred, her voice thick, daring. "What a waste–“ she paused, a moan emitting from the top of her throat. “–of a cock if–“ another pause, “if–if you fuck like this.”

His thrusts faltered, just for a moment—a slip that was more telling than anything he could've said. She'd gotten to him, and the flash of frustration in his eyes was enough to make her smirk widen. 

"You just don't know when to shut that mouth, do you?" he snarled, his voice dripping with tension as he stilled entirely, his chest heaving against her back.

"Guess not," she shot back, her tone cutting despite the quiver in her thighs. "Maybe you're not man enough to–“

Before she could finish, his hand left her back, gripping her throat as he yanked her back up toward his chest again. He found her jaw with a force that made her gasp. His grip was firm, commanding, as his fingers pressed into her cheeks, forcing her mouth open.

"Open," he ordered, his tone low and unrelenting, the kind that left no room for argument. When she hesitated—just for a second—his grip tightened, his gaze locking hers in the mirror. "I said open."

Her lips parted, her glare defiant even as she obeyed. 

"See? You do listen," he muttered, his lips curving into a wicked grin. His index and middle finger slid past her lips, pressing down hard on her tongue. Her eyes widened slightly, a muffled protest bubbling in her throat, but he just smirked. "That's better. Quiet suits you, angel."

Her teeth grazed his knuckles, her tongue squirming under the weight of his fingers, but she couldn't pull away—not while he still held her jaw firmly in place. His hips moved again, hard and unforgiving, each thrust making her body jerk forward against the sink. 

He moaned, watching their reflection like it was some kind of twisted masterpiece. "Still trying t’fight me, even now. Stubborn little thing, aren't you?"

She glared at him in the mirror, her teeth biting down lightly on his fingers just to prove she still could. "Go on," he sighed, his tone amused as his fingers pressed down harder, making her gag slightly. "Bite me. Won't change a damn thing.”

Her body betrayed her-again. Her moans, muffled by his hand, spilled out in broken fragments, her hips pushing back to meet his thrusts even as her mind screamed at her to resist. The tears stinging her eyes weren't from pain, but from the overwhelming heat building low in her belly, threatening to swallow her whole.

He grunted, his breath hot against her ear as his fingers slid from her mouth, wet and slick—a mess of whimpers and moans escaping with it. "That's what you sound like when I've got y’completely undone. Maybe next time, think twice before y’run your mouth."

Her lips parted, a sharp retort on the tip of her tongue, but it never made it past her lips. Not with the way he pulled her against him, harder, faster, his hand returning to her throat, keeping her flush against his chest.

Her hands left the edge of the sink, trembling as they reached up to find him. She gripped his forearm, her nails digging into his skin, desperate to feel the solid strength beneath her fingers. Her body jolted with every thrust, her movements uncoordinated, but her claws pressed hard enough to leave marks she knew he'd see tomorrow.

Harry didn't flinch. If anything, her desperation only made him smirk. His hand on her throat stayed steady, holding her firm, keeping her close. She could feel the tension in his muscles, the coiled strength under her palms, and she knew he wouldn't drop her. No matter how rough he got, no matter how far he pushed, he had her.

He growled, his lips brushing the shell of her ear, his voice as rough as the pace of his hips slamming into her. "You begging for more?"

Her nails dragged down his forearm, leaving a trail of red crescents in their wake. She gasped, head tipping back against his shoulder, her teeth catching her bottom lip as a moan slipped free before she could stop it. "You'll tire out before I do."

His grip on her throat tightened slightly—not enough to hurt, just enough to make her feel it, to keep her grounded against him. His other hand slid down her stomach, fingers pressing between her thighs again, circling her clit.

"Feel that?" he muttered, dragging his fingers in slow, deliberate circles, contrasting with the brutal rhythm of his hips. "That's not me getting tired, petal. That's me making sure you'll remember this tomorrow."

Her nails clawed deeper into his forearm, and her hips bucked forward, trying to escape the overwhelming sensation only to slam back into him. Her mind was fogged with heat, her body trembling under the dual assault of his fingers and the relentless thrusts that sent shocks up her spine.

"Fuck, Harry," she whimpered, her voice breaking in a way she hated, in a way he loved.

"That's it," he grunted, almost tenderly, though his actions were anything but. His lips brushed her temple, a cruel contrast to the way he dragged her closer to the edge.

Her grip on his forearm tightened, her nails biting into his skin hard enough to draw a hiss from his lips. But he didn't pull back. He wouldn't. His hold stayed firm, steady, a constant against the chaos he was dragging her through.

"You're so fucking close," he growled, his voice dark and ragged, his lips kissing her temple.

Her head fell further into his shoulder, her lips parted in a choked moan. The mirror showed everything—the way her body arched, her dress bunched high around her hips, his hand between her thighs. The sight of his fingers working her, his other hand wrapped firm around her throat, holding her steady as he pounded into her, was too much. It was filthy, mesmerizing. It was them.

"You're beautiful like this," he muttered, his breath hot against her cheek, his voice shaking with the effort to hold himself back. "Fucking perfect.”

Her hands clawed at his forearm, her nails raking over his skin as her body tensed, her thighs quivering against his. A sharp cry tore from her lips, unrestrained, as the tension inside her snapped all at once, her release washing over her in waves.

He slowed his movements just enough to drag it out, his fingers never stopping. His thrusts turned deep, deliberate, milking every last tremor from her body. "Good girl—just like that."

Her breath came in short, broken gasps, her body slackening in his arms as her hands slipped from his forearm to brace herself against the sink again. But Harry wasn't done—not yet.

His hand slid from her neck, resting briefly on her back to steady her as he pulled out. His release was a low growl, heavy with restraint, as he bent her forward over the sink again, her cheek pressing against the cool marble.

His hands tugged the bunched fabric of her dress, pushing it higher until it gathered at the small of her back.

She heard the wet sound of his hand stroking himself, the heat of him close enough to feel but just out of reach. He cursed under his breath, his voice rough and raw, his pace quickening as his own release built.

"Fuck, look at you," he muttered, his eyes glued to her reflection. His free hand slid down her back, his touch possessive, reverent. 

The first hot spurt of his release hit the small of her back, a low groan tearing from his throat as he finished, his hand working himself through the aftershocks. He stayed there for a moment, his breath ragged, his chest heaving, the sight of her still bent over the sink keeping him rooted.

Harry let out a long exhale, his hand sliding up her spine in a firm, grounding touch as he leaned over her, brushing his lips against her shoulder.

The air felt thick now, heavy with the remnants of what just happened. The muffled bass of the music outside thumped distantly, but the bathroom was silent aside from their labored breaths. Neither of them spoke.

Harry stepped back, his hands dragging over her hips as if reluctant to let her go, before he turned his attention to himself. He pulled his slacks back up, the sound of the zipper loud in the quiet, followed by the faint clink of his belt as he buckled it.

She stayed bent over the sink for a moment longer, her forehead pressed against the cool surface, her chest heaving as she tried to steady herself. She could feel his eyes on her, burning into her back, but she didn't dare look up. Not yet.

Harry moved to the paper towel dispenser, yanking a mess of them free without a word. He returned to her, his footsteps deliberate, and she startled slightly at the first cool touch of the towel against her skin. He didn't say anything as he wiped her clean, his movements uncharacteristically gentle now, precise, careful, like he was undoing what had been rough and unforgiving moments ago.

When he finished, he tossed the crumpled towels into the trash. His hands returned to her thighs, sliding the lace of her panties back up, his fingers brushing against her skin as he smoothed them into place. He let his fingers linger there for a moment, his thumbs grazing the red marks he'd left behind on her hips. 

Her thighs bore the shape of his hands, faint but unmistakable, and when she finally straightened and caught herself in the mirror, she saw the full extent of it. Her skin was marked—her throat faintly bruised from his grip, hickeys scattered along her neck and collarbone like splashes of color against her flushed skin. The swell of her hips ached where his fingers had dug in, and she knew the prints he'd left would bloom darker by morning.

The silence in the room wasn’t peaceful. It was thick, suffocating, a tension neither of them knew how to cut. Harry leaned against the wall like it was holding him up, his head tilted back, his shirt hanging open, and his chest still heaving like he couldn’t quite catch his breath. The air felt different now—charged and heavy, yet hollow at the same time.

She stared at him for a moment, at the way his jaw was clenched tight, his gaze fixed somewhere else. His usual arrogance was gone, replaced by something quieter, something guarded. He didn’t move to fix his shirt, didn’t even glance at the mirror to see what a wreck he looked like.

She didn’t think before stepping forward, her hands finding the loose edges of his shirt. His eyes flicked down to her, dark and unreadable, but he didn’t stop her. She tugged the fabric into place, smoothing it over his shoulders before starting on the buttons, working her way down.

Her fingers brushed against his skin, still warm from her touch, but she didn’t let herself think about it—couldn’t. The weight of what they’d just done hung between them, heavy and unspoken, something that felt too big, too raw to touch.

He stayed still, watching her, his arms limp at his sides like he didn’t trust himself to move. Like touching her again might unravel everything.

She didn’t dare look at him, her gaze focused on her hands as she reached the last button. Her fingers trembled as she smoothed the fabric flat, brushing out the wrinkles before finally stepping back.

They didn’t speak.

They wouldn’t speak.

It was something they didn’t do—not about this.

Her throat felt tight, her chest heavy, her pulse still racing from the way he’d made her feel. She smoothed her hands over her dress again, though it was already straight. The mirror behind her caught their reflection—two people standing too close but pretending the distance was enough.

Her lips parted, maybe to say something, maybe to breathe, but nothing came out. She glanced up, catching his gaze for the briefest second before dropping it again.

His chest rose and fell in uneven beats, and when he finally pushed off the wall, his fingers brushing through his hair, he let out a long, shaky exhale.

We don’t talk about it.

The words sunk into the hollow space between them like a quiet truth neither of them would ever admit out loud. 

It’s something we don’t do.

Because if they did—if they said it, defined it, made it real—there’d be no going back.

And that terrified her almost as much as the thought of losing this, losing him.

Harry moved past her, his shoulder brushing hers as he reached for the door. He hesitated for a moment, his hand on the handle, his head tipping forward as though he might say something. But he didn’t.

She watched him go, her stomach twisting in ways she couldn’t untangle.

Once you go without it, nothing else will do.

[jonny-bee-meowrt]

Quick Frenchie cause I've been rewatching The Boys in preparation for the new season

[starcrossedslytherin]

The Marauder's Map

James Potter x Reader

WC: 6.9K

A/N: I feel like every few months or so I rise from the dead to post something, so here is a James fic I started, gods only knows when and have finally finished! Let me know your thoughts because I liked writing for James, I want to more.

Summary: James, Sirius, Remus, and Peter need help for a special resource for their pranks, so who better to go to than the best charms student Hogwarts has to offer- also the girl James seems to be in love with.

---

James was staring at you; you could feel it. 

You’ve always had a pretty good sense at telling when people were staring at you, but as you look up to meet James’ eyes for the fourth time today during breakfast before he quickly looks away, your stomach was swimming in nerves. 

“Lys, do I have something on my face?” You ask your friend Alyssa as you run a hand across your face, hopefully knocking away whatever has pulled James’ attention from the Gryffindor table to the Slytherin one. 

Alyssa furrows her brows but shakes her head. “None that I can see, why?” 

You frown. “Potter keeps looking at me.” 

“James Potter?” 

“Is there another Potter at this school that I haven’t met yet?” You press your lips together as Alyssa rolls her eyes. “Yes, James Potter.” 

She rolls her eyes before looking over at James. “I dunno, maybe he fancies you.” 

Her words cause your laugh to escape. “Are you mad? You think James Potter fancies me? James Potter?” 

“If we keep saying his full name like this, he’s bound to hear and look at us more.” Alyssa says before her eyes find the Gryffindor table again and a frown appears on her face. “Or rather they all will?” 

You pause in eating as you keep your eyes on Alyssa. “All of them?”

She tilts her head. “Well, James and Sirius are because they’re sitting on the side of the table that lets them, but Remus keeps turning back every once and while. The only one who hasn’t is Peter- oh, he’s doing it too. Yeah, it’s all of them.” You groan at her words, scooping the last bits of your breakfast into your mouth before hurrying to grab your things. “Where are you going?”

“Anywhere they are not.”

James, Sirius, Remus, and Peter watch as you practically run from your table. “You really think she’d help us?” Peter asks as he turns back to his food. 

James doesn’t look away from you until you were at the door of the Great Hall, looking at his table in confusion one last time before you’re gone. “I don’t see why not.” He finally says.

Remus chuckles under his breath. “Maybe because you just stared at her throughout her entire breakfast?”

Sirius took a bite of his cereal before pointing his spoon at James, talking through his food. “Yeah, that was creepy.”

James smacks his arm as Remus mumbles a ‘close your mouth’. “Well, I’ll just convince her then.” Remus, Sirius, and Peter all share a look as James leaves the table, knowing this could either end very well, or be a complete disaster. 

---

You end your escape in the library, finding a quiet table in the back as you finally let out a large breath and fall into the seat. You weren’t truly finished enjoying your breakfast, but you suppose at least now you can study in the library for a bit, hoping James and his friends focus their sights on someone else for the day.

Unfortunately, by the sight of James Potter sticking his head around the bookcase to your left, you realize that won’t be the case.

“Oh, for Merlin’s sake.” You mutter to yourself and bury your face in your book. When you bring your head up, James stares back at you from across the table, shining his pearly white teeth as if this interaction between the two of you was normal. 

“Hello!” He says. You can’t help but just stare at him, blinking in confusion, but you don’t say anything. James’ smile slowly fades, and he clears his throat and furrows his brows. “I thought this would go easier.” He mumbles and you can just barely hear him.

You scoff, dropping your book on the table in front of you. “Okay, I think you’re going to have to try someone else if you want to add stalking to the list of hobbies of you and your merry men.”

James can’t help the upturn of his lips as he leans into the table. “Merry men?”

“Robin Hood?” You roll your eyes. “Robin Hood and the-”

“No, I uh, I get the reference. It’s just- you think I’m Robin Hood?”

This had to be the weirdest conversation you’ve ever had with James.

This had to be the weirdest conversation you’ve ever had.

“Why are you here?” you say slowly and cross your arms, choosing to lean back in your seat to put as much distance between the two of you as possible. 

James sat up, suddenly remembering why he had “stalking” you, as you put it, all morning. “Oh, uh,” He sucks in a breath. “How are you?”

You groan, throwing your hands in the air. “James Potter, we are 5th years now and have barely talked more than 20 times since day we met. I know you do not care how I am. Now. What. Do. You. Want?”

“We want your help with a prank.”

Now this sounds like James Potter and his “merry men”.

“A prank?” You ask, already skeptical of how you can be of help. “What kind?”

“It’s more of a resource, really.” He rubs the bottom of his face, staring off at your books in front of you in thought. You slap your hand over your books, causing the boy to finally meet your eyes. Your eyes flicker between his two hazel ones. 

“Why would you need my help with a resource for your prank? If it’s my house, there are loads of Slytherin’s and some of them might actually be willing to help you.”

“It’s not your house.” He shakes his head. You can’t stop yourself from watching the sight of his curly dark hair falling in front of his face. “You’re the best in our class at charms.”

“Any one of you is just as good as me.”

James shakes his head again, running a hand through his curls, ignoring the curls getting caught on his fingers as he pushes through. “No way. Remember last week? You were the only one in the class who didn’t walk out looking as orange as a pumpkin that lasted two days.”

“That’s because I was the only one who read the book.”

“No, it’s because you’re brilliant.”

You don’t have a response to James’ comment. It was obvious he was just trying to get on your good side so that you’d help with whatever this resource was. You hated the fact that it was working a bit. 

You sigh and push your books closed in front of you. “What is the resource?”

James’ face lights up and he quickly moves to the seat in next to you, pulling out a journal from his book bag. “That part is still a work in progress.” He flips through the pages, giving you a few quick glances at pranks he and his friends had come up with previously. You chuckle and shake your head. “Basically, what we are hoping for was a way to find anyone in the castle, wherever they are.”

He must be insane.

“What makes you think this would be something I knew how to do? I’m brilliant, Potter, but I’m not a bloody miracle worker.”

James was about to object as he turns to face you, but instead he just stares at you. Before you turn your head, James takes a sharp breath and pushes his glasses higher on his nose. “Well, we can work on it together. We’ll come up with something.”

“Potter…” you trail off, looking at the scrawled messy handwriting of the boy’s quick thinking on the page in front of you. You close the book. “Look, it sounds interesting. A challenge even, and I love challenges, but I don’t have time to waste with your silly little Gryffindor pranks. You’ll just have to find someone else or do it yourself.” 

James wants to object, saying you’re the best person for the task, but you were packing your things into your bag, and it wasn’t until you had almost left the table before he finally says, “We can use it to prank Snape.”

That got your attention.

It wasn’t a secret to everyone in Hogwarts that despite being in the same house, Severus Snape and you hated each other.

Your hand clenches and for a moment, James thinks he might have you. That is, until you turn around with a frown. “Sorry, Potter. Still not interested.”

---

“I told you she wouldn’t go for it.” Remus says, barely looking up at James over the book in his hand. 

James just grunts, keeping his glasses from slipping of his nose as he hangs upside off the couch, his curls reaching to the ground. “I don’t understand.”

“Why would she say no?” Sirius asks. He head was laying across Remus’ lap and he tries to annoy the boy while he’s reading by pushing the book away, but Remus is far too used to his antics as he slaps Sirius’ hand away without missing a word on the page. 

“Why would she say no!” James’ dramatic throw of his hands causes the other three boys to laugh at him.

They sit in silence for a moment, silently brainstorming where to go from here before Peter speaks up. “You didn’t flirt with her, did you?”

James stays silent. 

Remus, Sirius, and Peter can’t help themselves this time as their laughter filled the room, gathering the attention of other Gryffindor’s in the common room as James’ cheeks turn the darkest shade of red that they’ve ever seen.

“Blimey mate, what did you say?” Sirius chucks a pillow at James, and he can’t catch it in time, letting it smack his chest before he moves to sit up. 

“Nothing! I swear! I didn’t- I didn’t… I may have flirted just a tiny- a teensy tiny bit.” His voice is quiet at the end of his sentence out of embarrassment. 

If James thought his friends laughing at him earlier was bad, it was nothing compared to now. He does nothing but cover his face in his hands, waiting for the sounds to stop.

“What did you say?” Sirius jumps to the couch next to James, throwing his arm around his shoulders and bring him closer to his side. 

“Nothing!” James claims, but even he knows it was a lie. He sighs in defeat. “I just- I called her brilliant, that’s it.”

“Oh, Prongs, you might as well have gotten down on a knee and proposed!” Sirius claps him on the back before laughing at his best friend’s humiliation once more. Remus and Peter’s laughter grows with Sirius’ comment. James just shakes his head and heads out of the common room throwing his middle finger up to his friends.

He’d dealt with his friends joking around about his crush on Lily for years, but it was different with you.

That might be because James never told his friends about his crush on you, they just figured it out. Even before James knew.

Walking toward the black lake, wanting to get some fresh air, James stops at the sound of a familiar voice. He ducks behind a pillar.

“Snape, just leave her alone!”

It didn’t take a genius to figure out that was your voice. He glances out, watching as you jog over to two other people. One of them obviously being Snape. The other James could barely make out, until Snape takes a step away from her and he realizes that she was your friend from breakfast. There’s an argument that James can’t hear from where he’s standing between you and Snape and Alyssa ducks behind you. You turn around, wanting to walk away with Alyssa before Snape pulls out his wand. 

James’ eyes widen and he reaches for his own, only to realize he left it in the common room in his quick leave. He curses himself, hoping you turn around before Snape curses you behind your back. Instead, Snape aims for Alyssa and before you can stop it or before James can sprint out from behind the pillar, Snape is holding Alyssa in the air above the water.

“Put her down!” you yell and point your wand at him. Snape can only snicker before he lets Alyssa fall right into the lake. “Lys!” You yell, knowing your friend isn’t the best at swimming. You jump in to help her out, and by the time you both are back on land, soaking wet, Snape was gone and James was helping you both out of the water. 

Once Alyssa was out first, you take James’ outstretched hand soaking his sleeves, but he doesn’t care. He makes sure you’re okay, but he’s stopped when you grab both of his arms, getting him to look you in the eyes.

“I’ll help you with that resource.” You tell him, tired of Snape bullying your friends and you. “I want this to be something that’s going to haunt Snape for years and years to come.”

James can only smile at you.

You smile back.

---

“Ok, just start again from the beginning.” You plead the four boys in front of you as you crowd around a table in the library as the 6th hour of reading resources starts. You’ve never really seen the group of friends really in action of planning their pranks, but keeping up with them as you flip through the library books you’ve all read from the shelves has been really hard.

“We want to be able to know where anyone is at any time.” Sirius says as he lays across the table, kicking his legs up in the air. You nod, looking down at the book pile in front of you as you pick up a book and toss it behind you where Remus is standing to let him put it back on the shelf.

“It only needs to be in the castle.” Peter points out, earning hums from his friends. No use for a prank resource outside of the castle, apparently. You toss two more books back.

“Oh!” You hear Remus say as you flip through pages, he glances over your shoulder, looking at the books you have. “We should have all the secret passages marked on it too!”

You sigh and add 4 books to your discard pile. You’re left with 3 books, each of them potentially having information you knew would be useful to the friend group, you just had to figure out what information. 

James slides into the seat next to you and you quickly meet his eyes. James’ sucks in a breath, not having expected to meet your eyes as he sat down. There’s a moment where James almost forgets his friends are in the room and you’re not just helping him. He only grounds himself back to reality when you turn your head, chewing on your lip nervously. “We uh, we were also thinking it can be something only we can use.”

James’ voice was quieter than he normally was, but it didn’t matter. 

You knew the perfect spell to use.

“The Homonculous Charm.” You tell the group, turning your book around and showing the marked charm to the others. “You cast it onto a blank parchment, and it tracks where everyone is around the castle, whenever, wherever, and whoever.” The group of boys in front you have different looks of astonishment. 

But, if you were being honest with yourself, you knew that Remus, Sirius, and Peter were looking at the book in your hands and James, well, he was looking right at you.

You clear your throat, hoping to push the boy’s attention off of you. “All you have to do is cast the charm on a parchment and map the place.”

“Easy!” Sirius yells, giving Peter a high five. “Let’s cast it and get to pranking Snivellus!”

“Doesn’t look like its that easy, Pads.” Remus puts his hand on Sirius’ shoulder as he reads over the page you show them.

You nod your head. “If you want a place to show up on the map, you have to actually cast the charm in the place.” There were 4 groans from the boys, and you hold back a laugh. 

“That could take weeks.” James sighs, leaning his head back in the chair. “Do you know how big this castle is?”

“It wouldn’t take weeks, maybe just a few days and I’m sure you guys can do it.” You tell them, pushing on James’ shoulder. James’ frown turns up a little at your playfulness and you’re quick to pull your attention of him. You start to pull your things together and stand up. “Now, if we’re done here-”

“Wait, where are you going?” Sirius asks, tugging on your bag. 

You swat his hand off your bag. “Leaving. I helped and now you can prank Snape to your heart’s desire.”

“To our hearts desire?” James questions, standing up to be at your height. His eyes meet yours and there’s a pause in his speech before he practically drags his eyes away, forcing himself to look at the book. “Time would go a lot faster if you helped.”

You guffaw and throw yourself into the seat again. “You have like a million friends. Can’t you trick some of them into helping you?”

“We could.” Peter shrugs and moves to stand on the other side of the table than you, placing it between the two of you.

Sirius threw his arm around Peter. “But then you wouldn’t really get revenge on Snivellus.”

Remus stood next to them, his hands buried in his jeans as he smirks. “And isn’t that what you wanted when you agreed to help?”

James joins them as well, squishing together as all four stare directly at you with various forms of mischief on their faces. “So? What do you say?”

They were right.

Screw them, but they were right.

You sigh, crossing your arms over your chest. “What’s the plan?”

---

Alyssa had been laughing for what seemed like an hour as you both lay on your respective beds. You told her all about your little study session with the boys today and she apparently found it quite amusing what you’ve got yourself wrapped into. “It’s not funny, Lys.”

“Are you mad? You, being forced to spend as much time as you can with your crush and his best mates mapping the entire school to get back at Snape?” She chuckles. “This is the funniest thing that has happened to you since you blew up your book bag practicing for exams last year.”

“I don’t have a crush on James.” You groan, throwing your arm across your eyes, blocking the stray sunlight coming in from the window.

“James?” Alyssa asks seemingly confused. “I was talking about Sirius.”

You couldn’t help your snort of laughter at her comment. You knew she was joking, and she knew you were harboring secret feelings for the curly dark-haired, glasses wearing boy. “Can I just get some sleep?” You ask her, ignoring the fact it was barely dinnertime. “If I have to stay up all night mapping the castle with them, then I am sleeping now.”

“Fine by me.” Alyssa tells you, chucking a pillow at you before pulling out a book since she didn’t have plans to sleep early. You get smacked by the pillow and send a weak attempt at slinging it back at her before finally heading to bed.

---

“I’m going tonight.” James says to his friends the moment they step into the common room, making sure his voice is hushed. “If Y/N is going, then I’m going.”

His friends don’t bother hiding their laughs. “Mate, as if we would keep you from roaming the castle in private with the love of your life.” Sirius snickers, giving James a little push that has him falling onto the couch. “Besides, you only have the one invisibility cloak and last time we had 3 of us in there, Remus had his hand on my butt.”

“Remus would have his hand on your butt even if we didn’t have the cloak.” James grumbles, feeling Remus smack him in the back of the head. “Ow!” James groans, rubbing a hand on the back of his head. “Am I wrong?” He asks, only to look over and see Remus starting to lay across the couch coincidentally, or not, laying his head on Sirius’ lap. 

James rolls his eyes at his best friends before he pulls out his books, thinking he’s going to get some studying in before dinner. “You’re not going to get some sleep?” Peter asks, seeing his friend studying. James shakes his head, knowing if he tried to sleep right now, there would only be one person on his mind. 

---

This wasn’t the first time you had snuck out of the Slytherin common room, but this was the first time you were just standing around begging to be caught out of bed. You tap your foot, glancing every direction for any of the boys to come around the corner, but you didn’t see them. You were about to give up, not wanting to be caught by a professor. You had taken one step before James appears, standing right in front of you. His presence scares you and you can’t hold back the scream you release. 

James jumps at the sound. He should have figured you would’ve reacted to him taking off the cloak, but he didn’t expect you to start screaming. He jumps forward, covering your mouth with his hand as he presses you against the wall. “It’s just me! It’s James!” He whispers as loud as he can, wanting you to stop screaming but not wanting anyone else to hear. Your eyes flicker back and forth between his and when he was certain you were done screaming, he brings his hand away. He didn’t realize how close your bodies were to each other until you were looking at each other. A moment passes before James clears his throat. “Um, hi.”

The spell is broken as you shake your head, pushing him away gently and slapping his arm. “What the hell is wrong with you? Where did you even come from?”

James chuckles a bit at the situation, gripping the cloak in his hand as he puts his other on your arm to calm you down. “I’ll tell you.” He assures you. “I’ll tell you, but you have to promise not to freak out.”

You just blink in confusion. James doesn’t say anything else before he throws the cloak around his shoulders, affectively leaving him as a floating head. You suck in a breath. “An invisibility cloak?” You had never seen one before. James liked looking at the amazed smile on your face, he hoped he see it again soon. 

“Who’s there!” James and you jump at the sound of a professor, obviously looking for the source of your scream from earlier. James was quick to pull you into him, wrapping the two of you in the cloak as you press your body against his. James’ arm wraps around your waist as he keeps the cloak closed and you both watch the professor pass right by, completely unaware of your presence.

James gives it a few minutes before he pulls the cloak off, slowly letting go of your waist. You exhale heavily, taking a step back from James. The two of you stand awkwardly next to each other, neither of you truly knew what to say to each other. 

“Nice cloak.” Your voice was higher than you’d like it to be but, in your defense, the closeness you had to James was still high on your mind.

James hoped the night light had hidden the blush on the cheeks that he knew was going to be there. “Thanks- Thank you.” He stumbled through, avoiding looking at you.

You suck in a breath, trying to think of what to say before forcing a smile. “Should we get going?”

“Yep. Yeah, let’s just uh…” 

James’ sentence had trailed off, but it didn’t matter as he pulled out a piece of parchment paper from his pocket. You raise a brow at it and cross your arms. “Is that supposed to be for the map?” James nods. “Potter, have you seen the size of this castle? One corridor wouldn’t even fit on that page.” 

James frowns. He thought the paper he brought was large enough, but you might have a point. You roll your eyes and take him by the arm to a nearby classroom, knowing the professor kept larger pieces of parchment on hand. James hoped greatly that you didn’t notice how eager he was to remain with your arm locked with his.

“Take this.” You hand James a folded piece of parchment, and being the curious person James Potter was, he let it unfold. The parchment kept unfolding until it was taller than him and then some, hitting the ground with a soft thud. He looks at you, widening his eyes. “You wanted a map.” You remind him. “Let’s just hope this one is big enough.”

---

You let James take the lead with holding the cloak, ready to throw it over you both the moment he needed, and you would cast the spell onto the soon-to-be map. Unfortunately, you both found yourselves quite bored with the task. “How’s Quidditch?” You ask James, desperate for a distraction. 

James smiles, glad to talk about a subject he enjoys. “Amazing, as usual. Haven’t lost yet this year.”

You smirk. “Well, that’s because you’ve haven’t played Slytherin yet.”

James has to hold back a laugh. “Please,” you bite your cheek hearing James’ playful tone. “We’ll beat Slytherin next weekend just as easily as we did Ravenclaw and Hufflepuff.”

“I don’t know, we got a new seeker. Heard he’s quite good.” 

“Better than me?”

You choose to glance at him, and you’re not surprised to see the cocky smile sitting pretty on his lips. This time you don’t fight the smile on your face. “I’ve never seen you play, Potter. How am I supposed to know how good you are?”

James stops walking and it takes you a moment to notice before you stop as well. “You’ve never watched a Gryffindor match before?” James looks as if his head would explode.

“I’ve never even seen a Slytherin match before.” You admit. You would admit only to yourself that you were a little embarrassed. 

James just stares at you, his mouth fallen open in pure shock. “You’re joking.” He says before you slowly shake your head. “You’re joking!” You chuckle softly, amused at his response. He shakes his head and starts walking again. “You’re coming. Next weekend, when Gryffindor beats Slytherin, I expect to see you in the stands.”

You can’t help but smile at his comment. “Yeah, we’ll see.” You say, turning down the corridor as you cast the spell again, watching the paper map out the corridor. James smiles and nudges your shoulder softly with his. 

“Come on, we’ve got a lot more to map.” He says before the two of you start down the hallway quicker, almost racing each other to the end. You both laugh as you reach the end of the hall, stopping and leaning against the walls as you catch your breaths. 

“I so won.” You say to him, despite knowing you didn’t.

James rolls his eyes affectionately. “In your dreams.” He breathes out. You look at him, holding his gaze with a smile for a few moments before the two of you hear a door open down the hall and footsteps coming. James turns the way of the sounds before he pulls the cloak over the two of you, pressing you into the wall again. 

You stop breathing as he presses you against the wall, hiding you as a professor walks down the hall, completely unaware of the two of you there. Once they are gone, James and you relax and he lets the cloak fall, but doesn’t move back. It isn’t until you glance down to the map and see something moving. You gasp. “James.” You whisper, holding it up for the two of you to watch as the map shows you the professor moving down the hall, his name remaining on the map until he walks into an uncharted area. 

James looks at the map before looking at you. “It works.”

You smile and nod, in shock that this resource was actually working. You couldn’t stop yourself from throwing your arms around his shoulders for a hug if you tried, but you also didn’t try.

James was shocked for a moment before he hugs you back, smiling and blushing over your shoulder. 

You pull away a bit embarrassed. “Sorry… I got excited.” You say, stepping away from the wall and from him.

James shook his head with a smile, obviously not minding. He clears his throat and pushes his glasses higher. “Um, should we get back to it?” He says, unable to stop the smile on his face. 

You nod, barely looking at him long enough to notice as you start walking again, holding the map up and focusing on it as James and you walk the halls until a few hours before morning. 

You yawn for the hundredth time that hour as James does as well. “I suppose we should get back.” James says, running a hand through his curly hair. 

You nod, feeling exhausted. “You four can map a few places in the day too.” You tell him during the walk back to the Slytherin common room.

James nods, knowing you’re right. The conversation finds a comfortable low again until you see the Slytherin common room ahead of you, relieved that you and James didn’t get caught. “See you tomorrow?” James asks you, his smile still on his face, only softer. You turn and look at him, matching his smile as you nod. 

“Goodnight, Potter.” You whisper, handing him the map. 

James takes the map, your fingers brushing lightly together before you drop your hand and he’s left with the tingling sensation of your touch as you turn and walk away. “Yeah. Goodnight.” He says barely loud enough for you to hear as he watches you enter your common room. He swallows thickly and looks down to the map before turning around and heading back to the Gryffindor common room. 

When he gets back, Remus and Peter were still asleep, but Sirius wakes up when he hears James comes back. “How was it?” Sirius whispers to James, not wanting to wake up his other friends. James tosses him the map, showing him how much you and him covered in the castle. Sirius looks at the large parchment and the small, yet decent sized for one night, portion of the castle mapped and nods while widening his eyes. “Good job,” He says, putting the map in his bedside table. “but you know I wasn’t asking about the map.” Sirius says with a smirk. 

James blushes in the darkness and slips into his pajamas. “It was good.”

Sirius rolls his eyes at James’ simple answer, but he’s not stupid. He can see the blush on his best friend’s face. “Fall in love with her yet?” He teases James who groans, falling into his bed. 

James stays silent, closing his eyes. “She hugged me.”

Sirius can’t help the amused chuckle as he lays back in his bed, ready to sleep again. “Well, I better be best man at the wedding.” He mumbles sleepily.

James can’t help but grin, staring at the ceiling above him until he falls asleep as well.

---

The next few days and nights happened similar to the first night, only with different pairs of the 5 of you. Sometimes you wouldn’t map out the castle, or sometimes you’d map it with Sirius or Remus. It took a few days before you and James were given the chance to go together again and unfortunately, the map was almost completed. The two of you had seen each other in the day time a lot as you started to hang out with the 4 boys, but James and you hadn’t gotten a lot, if any, alone time together. 

You were leaning against the wall at the Slytherin common room, wondering who you were going with tonight before James’ smiling face pops out of nowhere. You don’t scream like the first night, instead, you match his smile. “So, it’s me and you then?”

“You and me.” James says before offering you his elbow. You roll your eyes with a soft smile and interlock your arm with his. You walk towards one of the last corridors you have. 

“We’ll probably finish this tonight.” You say, glancing over at James.

He nods, his smile falling slightly before he looks at you and it returns. “It’s been fun.” He says and you nod. “Is it wrong that I wished we had more to map?”

You think for a moment. “I don’t think so. But we also have been mapping for almost a week straight.” You chuckle. “I think I’m ready to be done with it.” He laughs but agrees. As much as he enjoys this, it will be nice to finally have the map finished. You turn to James and narrow your eyes. “Also, I thought Peter was supposed to map with me today, you have your game tomorrow.”

“I just wanted to make sure you would come tomorrow.” James lies. He did want to make sure you’d come to watch him tomorrow, but he also wanted to make sure you and him would get some alone time again without his friends or yours breathing down his neck. 

You laugh at his comment, looking down at the map. “I promise I’ll come.” You tell him, before looking at him the same time he looks at you. 

For a moment, with your closeness, the two of you just stand there, staring at each other before James’ eyes move down to your lips. 

For a moment, you think he might kiss you.

Until he clears his throat and looks away. 

You feel a little embarrassed, but you don’t let it show. You start walking again, James and you falling into a weird silence as James screams at himself in his head. He keep taking glances at you, but you don’t look at him, not until you reach the new corridor and you pull out the map. “Here, help me out?” You say, handing him one of the ends of the map, needing to find the corridor on this map to map it. James takes it and holds it out as the two of you look for the corridor.

“There it is.” James points to where the map had to be changed, adding flaps and such to represent the different levels of the rooms. You pull open the flap and smile when you find the corridor. 

“Perfect!” You say before folding the map carefully so you could keep that section free. James helps you, trying to keep his mind from running crazy when your fingers brush again. You cast the charm and James and you continue with mapping the castle. The conversation was simple with him. After the two of you get pass the awkwardness of your moment from before, you found it easy to talk about anything. About your family’s, your friends, your hobbies, your dreams. It seemed James and you didn’t stop talking, just like that first night, until you find yourself in front of the Slytherin common room again.

The Slytherin common room was the actual last place the map needed. The plan always being for you to take it and map it without the need for any of the boys to sneak in like they did with Ravenclaw and Hufflepuff common rooms. 

“I should be finished by morning.” You assure James as you fold the map and slip it into your robes. He nods, his smile pulling up on one side as he pushes up his glasses. 

“Well, you can give it to me at the game. Tomorrow. 9 am.”

You bite your lip as you smile and nod. “Goodnight, Potter. I’ll see you tomorrow.” You whisper before leaning up and kissing his cheek. James just stood there stunned as you chuckle lightly and run off to your common room.

It was only when he hears the door close that he’s pulled from his trance. He calls out your name, but it was too late. He runs a hand over his face, making sure not to touch his cheek you’ve just kissed before he throws the cloak over himself and heads back to his room. He was going to try and get a few hours before his game, but now, he knows he won’t.

---

James was bouncing the next morning as he stands on the Quidditch Pitch, preparing for the game and looking around the stands for you. 

“Turns out when you don’t go to any games, you don’t really know where to sit.”

James turns around fast at the sound of your voice, surprised to see you down here and not in the stands. He chuckles, shaking his head as he walks over to you. “I thought you weren’t coming for a moment.”

You smile at him and lean against the wall. “Yeah, I made a promise.” James nods, walking until he was right in front of you and smiling at you. He had sweat in his hair from his pre-game practice and his uniform was a little dirty, but he made it work. You take a deep breath and reach into your bag. “I finished it.” You pull out the map, showing him the completed Slytherin common room before holding it out to him.

As soon as James grabs the map, you pull it toward you, affectively pulling his as well until you put a hand on his shoulder and kiss him. When he doesn’t kiss back, you let go of him and the map, your eyes wide as you stumble backwards a little. “I’m sorry. I- I- I thought-“

But you don’t get to finish your sentence because once James gets over his shock at the revelation that you were really kissing him, he puts his hand on your waist and pulls you back, letting the map fall to the floor as he holds you close and kisses you deeply.

You swear that the stands were cheering for the two of you, not for the game was soon to start. 

“Oi!” Sirius’ teasing voice calls out from behind James as you both separate and look behind him, seeing Sirius’ grin as he leans against his broom. “Are we going to play or not?”

James gives him the middle finger as you slap his hand down playfully, keeping his hand in yours. James chuckles and looks back at you before he picks up the map and looks at it. “Why don’t you keep this safe for a bit longer. Wouldn’t want it to fall into someone else’s hands, now would we? You can watch everyone in the castle with this.”

You take the map before shrugging. “Well, almost everyone.”

James furrows his brows in confusion for a moment before sighing and grinning. “You’re the exception, aren’t you?”

You smile and pat his chest.  “You think I’m going to give you, James Potter, a map to where I am every moment of the day? You must be mad.” James just grins at you before your eyes widen excitedly. “Oh! Something else!” You say before turning the map over, showing James the cover of the map you created for them.

James was shocked as he looked at it, not knowing I had done something like that for them. He reads the words before chuckling. “The Marauders?” 

You blush and shrug. “Figured it was better than calling you lot the Merry Men.” 

James hums. “I thought I was Robin Hood?” 

“Face it,” You chuckle before joking, “I’m Robin Hood.” 

James nods slowly as he puts his hands on your waist again, pulling you against him. “Alright, alright.” He says before leaning towards you again and stealing another kiss which you happily accept. James chases your lips for a second moment as you two separates before he reaches into his bag. “Maybe you could keep something else safe for a bit too?”

You watch him, not knowing what he was grabbing before he grabs out another one of his jerseys and holds it up to you. “James-“

“Wear my jersey.” He interrupts you and you have to look away and smile. He sees the smile before he steps forwards and slips the jersey over your head, helping you get your arms through before stepping back and enjoying the sight. 

“Go win your game.” You say to him, reaching forward and squeezing his hand. “I’ll find you afterward.”

James squeezes your hand back before slowly walking backwards with a goofy grin. “Well, you have the map, love. Should be easy.” He gives you wink before he runs off,  meeting up with Sirius who throws his arm over his shoulder to tease him. 

You laugh as you watch them before heading up to the stands where Remus and Peter were, neither of them surprised to see you in James’ jersey.

And when Gryffindor wins against Slytherin, none of them are shocked to see James point at you in the stands as he smiles. 

•

Don't come at me if I don't really know how the charm works, I had a cute idea and went with it lol.

[nervoussagittarius]

y/n and matt being the hottest couple to ever walk the earth

matt sturniolo x reader

summary: part two of hot moments of matt and his girlfriend caught on camera

warnings: fluffy, little suggestive, probably some swearing, request

★ you sat on the triplets couch watching them from behind the camera as they filmed a wednesday video. you occasionally caught matt’s eyes where he would send you a wink that he would later claim wasn’t what it looked like.

you were usually out of sight out of mind when they were filming, but today matt looked so good and you needed a front row seat to that show. when they neared the end of filming you decided to rile matt up a little and send him a sexual picture of yourself.

you saw matt pick up his phone and instantly widen his eyes before he turned his head to the side with a look of shock. he tried to hide his expression but you easily caught on. he set his phone back down trying to be nonchalant.

all he had to do was film an outro he thought. if he could make it through without having to stand up he’d be golden. you sneakily made your way from the couch to matt’s room, his eyes following your movements. “matt stand up what are you doing?” chris complained.

matt thought for sure that his cover was blown. his mind went to you and he pulled your hand as you went past him. “come say hi to everyone.” matt said through gritted teeth. you jokingly stuck your tongue out at him while he used you to hide the problem your picture caused.

he placed you in front of him as you waved at the camera. you could feel his growing boner on you so you reached behind your back to rest a hand in his hip, caressing gently. he quickly grasped your hand in his before you could move any further.

nick said the last words as matt instantly threw you over his shoulder. it would be lying to say he wasn’t running you to his room. “those weirds say goodnight.” nick said.

“you sneaky bastard.” you let out as matt threw you in his bed. “me? i’m not the one sending nudes in the middle of filming.” matt retorted with a laugh.

★ going out of the house with matt was always an adventure. there were always people following you guys or asking for pictures. you didn’t mind. you guys loved interacting with matt’s fans. what you did mind though was the random girls coming up to your boyfriend and asking for his number.

you weren’t really a jealous person. you knew that matt was the most loyal person ever and after years of dating it was hard to deny the fact that he only had eyes for you.

that leads you to today. you and matt are waking through downtown los angeles, hand in hand like normal, when this girl approached matt. she had a friend with her, unbeknownst to you, filming the entire interaction.

“hey i saw you from across the street and thought you were really attractive. can i get your number?” matt payed barely any attention to her, knowing how this conversation was going to go.

matt let go of your hand before using your belt loop to tug you closer to him and putting his hand in your back pocket. “actually this is my girlfriend.” he stated as he started to walk you two away.

“oh wow she’s really pretty.” the girl said. matt made no effort to turn around before stating, “yeah. she is.”

you looked up at him with a shocked smile. “how could i not be dating you? you’re insanely perfect.” matt said placing a kiss to your head.

★ nick was being very active on his snapchat tonight while you and matt took the liberty to make dinner for everyone.

you two stood in the kitchen waiting for water to boil for pasta. you and matt loved cooking together. it was something fun that challenged you guys to start eating healthier.

matt was beginning to fidget with impatience. “what’s wrong?” you asked. matt looked at you with desperation in his eyes. “i really want this water to boil so we can eat and then go lay down together.” he said honestly.

you moved to wrap your hands around matt’s neck and place soft kisses to his face. attacking him with kisses was one of your favorite hobbies. matt pulled away from you with a smile and blown out pupils. “god! i just want to go makeout with my girlfriend! why won’t this stupid water hurry up.”

you giggled at his outburst before pulling him closer to you and leaning up to meet his lips. matt met you in the middle quickening your pace.

his hands wrapped around your waist as your hands found the hair at the nape of his neck and pulled ever so slightly. matt released your mouth with a groan, and you began to suck small areas around his neck.

it wasn’t until later that night that you found out nick accidentally caught your exchange in the background of his stories. it was a little to late to do anything so you two accepted your new title as the hottest internet couple.

comments:

i just KNOW they’re freaky

matt is a treasure. no man is that loyal

they’re such a power duo

mother and father

taglist: @norr1ssturni0lo @recklessmatt @luvr4miya @hpyjw @unbruisable @watercolorskyy @elliewrites1 @rheaasturn @slxt4matt @mmay4ever @aurizp

[slushycoookie]

Pierced Perfection ~ Miguel O'Hara x AFAB! Reader

Content: Breast play and fondling, Miguel goes crazy over your nipple piercing, leg humping, MINORS DNI!

A/N: Thought about nip piercings which turned into thinking about how Miguel would react to them so here we are. Enjoy!

“Baby, can you come here for a sec?”

Miguel came into the bathroom at your call, “Yeah?” He noticed you covering up your chest with your robe and his brows lowered, “What's wrong? You okay?”

“Yeah, I'm fine.” You reassured him with a smile, “I have a surprise for you.” He gazed at you in question, watching you open your robe.

Two red stones caught his eyes, dangling from a silver ring that enclosed around your nipples. The piercing fit perfectly on your body, as if it was made for you. Miguel couldn’t stop staring at it.

“Wow. They look great.” He got closer, “When did you get them?”

“Around noon.”

You had discussed the idea a few times about getting nipple piercings. A couple of designs on the internet caught your eye and you thought it would be a good idea to get one. Your husband liked the idea as well. The two of you did research on the healing process, understanding that it could take up to 6 - 12 months for you to heal. In some people's experiences, it was much longer. Almost 2 years. You were a little worried about that, unsure how your body was going to react. But you wanted them. So you got them.

“It's just been tingling a little but it's not so bad so far.”

Miguel’s brows furrowed again, “Tingling is okay, right?”

“Yes.” You provided a pat on his shoulder for more reassurance, “The artist told me that's normal and it shouldn't take too long to go away.”

He nodded at that, eyes still going back to your exposed chest. Miguel’s hand twitching at the idea of wanting to touch them. Your breasts were one of his favorite parts of your body and you couldn't help but have a twinge of guilt at the unexpected surprise.

“I'm sorry. I should've told you when I was going to get them.” Your lips formed a pout, “So you could prepare.”

“No, it's okay.” It was his turn to reassure you with his gentle hands on your arms, “It's not the end of the world that I can't touch them-”

“Well, you can touch. Just not right now.” You clarified, “You can’t suck on them now though.”

“Oh.” Miguel took a moment before clearing his throat, “I'll be fine. I can give more attention to other parts of your body.” You smirked when his hand squeezed your ass cheek.

Miguel stayed true to his word, not providing any additional stimulation by mouth or touch while you were healing. Your man had amazing self control, even when it came to sex. He tried to stay away from making contact with your breasts. Not wanting to hurt you. If he was really feigning for them, he'd place his head between the valley of your chest. Warm tongue licking up the crevice, causing you to shiver.

You knew he truly liked them by the way he stared with fascination. Crimson eyes reflecting back at the jewelry with a semblance of similarity. How a distinct feature of him was also on you. It was a little embarrassing when he asked for a picture of your breasts. His reasoning was so he could look at them while he was at work. You were no stranger to taking pictures like that and sending it to him. But somehow your mind created a scenario of an innocent spider coming in to see your unseemingly naughty picture on display.

It was a big day when Miguel found out he could finally touch them.

You were extra careful in cleaning your piercings, knowing you were going to clean them again once your husband finished fondling. He placed you on the counter in your bathroom, your shirt pulled up above your chest. No bra as you were still trying to get used to your nipples brushing against the padding. They've been extra sensitive since the procedure. But you also haven't been touched like this for 4 months.

“Be gentle.” You warned, “I'm still a little…”

“I got you.” Miguel kissed the top of your breast. As a test, he motioned his thumb against the jewel. That simple motion causing shockwaves throughout your body. You bit your lip, already missing the feeling. He did it again with your other breast and you sighed in bliss. “You okay?”

You hummed, “Feels good.”

Miguel grinned, placing his palm against your nipple, creating a gentle circle. You gripped his shoulder to keep steady. Low moans escaping your lips from his touch. He stood in between your legs, watched you whine and whimper for him. While his hands carefully rubbed you. The large palm hitting a right spot on your nipples that made you squeeze your thighs around his waist. He silenced you with a kiss, drinking up your sounds of pleasure underneath him.

You pushed your chest against him, begging for more under his hold. Only for him to pull away, tugging against your bottom lip.

“They feel nice.” His voice low, eyes filled with lust.

You leaned forward again for more but he dodged your advances, chuckling. You purse your lips, hunger in your eyes. “Just nice?”

Miguel flicked your nipple, causing you to tremble, “Just nice.”

You wondered if you made a mistake in getting your piercings. Because your husband was very touchy. Even though he couldn't taste you yet, he loved playing with your breasts. Running his fingers over your erected nipples casually. Gently pinching them. Teasingly flicking the jewelry. He'd always ask if he could touch them, still considering himself as being a gentleman. Who loved playing with your boobs.

He was going to be ecstatic when he found out he could taste them.

You were feeling great one day. Your nipples healed up nicely after almost a year. You thought it would be the perfect time for Miguel to place his mouth on you. And you were also going to clean it later to be sure.

If he had a tail, you would see it wagging. His eyes lit up when you told him on a call he could finally place his mouth on them. Whenever he was ready to do so.

That meant now as he portaled back home, hovering over your body in bed. “Let’s go.”

“Wait a minute.” You sat up, holding in your laughter. “Don't you still have work?”

Miguel sucked his teeth, “It's not important right now.” He got on his knees, hands gripping your sides. Desperation clouding his eyes. “Let me taste.”

How could you say no to that?

You pulled up your shirt to tease but your husband demanded to take it off completely. So he could have room. Your heartbeat picked up in your chest, practically heard in your ears. Miguel licking his lips in anticipation. You closed your eyes as you felt his breath against your breast, gripping the sheets to stable yourself.

A whimper escaped when Miguel's tongue flat against your nipple. Done in a way where the tip swirled around your ring, sending sensations throughout your body.

“Finally…” He groaned while sucking on your nipple with care, “I missed this.”

A firm hand rested on your back before pulling you closer. Miguel provided extra care to your nipple, practically almost putting your entire breast in his mouth. He moaned as if he starved. Wanting to keep you there as he finally got what he was denied for almost a year.

Your whimpers turned into full out sounds of pleasure as his fingers twirled your other nipple, his nail scratching along your areola. He kept you in place, making sure you never wandered off far. Your husband was still in his suit as you felt the material against your leg. While in his pursuit of tasting you, you felt his hard cock. Hips grinding slowly against your leg. Muted groans along your breast.

“Tan bueno (So good)…” He muttered, “Sabes tanto (You taste so)…”

Miguel rutted against you, his tongue and lips taking turns messing with your nipples. His hard thrusts shook the end of the bed. Causing you to hold on to his body. Your hand deep into his curls while the other was on his shoulder. Gripping him tight as he continued. Grunting and groaning before suddenly stilling. He was cumming against your leg.

His mouth parted against your nipple as he came. Those crimson eyes rolling back in his head. And all you could do was watch. Tug against the strands of his hair to prolong his orgasm.

“You really missed them, huh?” You asked when he calmed down, his face still buried between your breasts. Panting against them. All Miguel did was nod, hugging you tight.

[hadesoftheladies]

actually, I DID have gender dysphoria as a teenage girl without being exposed to anything about it on the internet, on top of "racial dysphoria" and body dysmorphia

there were points I DID want to kill myself because i wasn't, or bleach my skin or change my body, i would have done anything to be a white boy at one point

which is both sad and funny to me because i remember two of my then good friends explain being enby and transgender to me and me being like "that doesn't make any sense" and it's because of trans-discourse we eventually broke up. the closest i ever got to accepting trans-ideology was transmedicalism with weak support for "queer" culture. i did not understand pronouns, but i understood dysphoria. but i did not understand how one could be a man or woman without the sex characteristics.

how did i heal?

one, i left church. that was one of the places i was most scrutinized for my physical body. two, i distanced from my parents, especially my mom. who often made my ocd and body-image worse (not because she was mean, but because she was always fretting about "decency"). three, i focused on bettering my personal space. writing, reading, watching my comfort shows, getting the focus off me. four, i started eating better, and my body became less burdensome. i stopped getting horrible period pain. five, i surrounded myself with self-confident women and stopped trying to resurrect toxic friendships with girls and boys (especially boys). started eliminating each toxic friend and focusing my efforts on healthier relationships. six, i'd started educating myself on my own history, watching and listening to more black and African people. even when i didn't enjoy what they made or resonate with it, i found i appreciated the experience and could allow myself to hate or love whatever i found.

by the time i discovered radical feminism, this was like, the final step for me: consuming women-centric literature and media. this was HUGE. i'd see paintings and photography of women in all shapes, colors and sizes. i'd listen to master musicians, read women philosophers, anthropologists, etc. this started mending a lot of what caused initial disquiet when it came to my dysphoria or dysmorphia.

basically, i took myself out of bad environments (especially those which force you to scrutinize every detail about yourself, like social media, i took long breaks from that), drew boundaries with people i couldn't get rid of, learned about myself (ocd, dyscalculia, anxiety, female biology) so that i developed understanding and could empathize, stopped centering men and white people.

now, while there's still a hint or trace of dysmorphia and dysphoria, it doesn't plague my life. it's like the occasional itch. more of a mild temptation to go down a dark hole than an actual threat. and i've learned how to handle those.

i learned the root of things. not just my history, but the root of how society worked and how it affected me. and i'm still learning, and my life is still improving.

so yeah, girls and women going through this is normal and common. anyone who is used to who they are being shameful is more at risk (like gnc lgb kids), but you can recover. usually better if you get out of the places that are making you sick.

[cryptidghostgirl]

Are your requests still open? I was hoping for a request for a Lucifer x sinner reader where she was once in love with someone when she was alive but they betrayed her leading to her death causing her to be afraid of letting others in. She's been a resident of the hotel since the pilot, but doesn't really talk much about her feelings or past life but is convinced by Charlie who says singing helps her when she needs to get out her own emotions. So when she thinks everyone is gone for the day on one of Charlie's bonding field trips, she uses the piano in the main area to sing her heart out, not realizing Lucifer decided to stay. The song I'm thinking of is "Perfect Doesn't Last" by Beth Crowley. So when she sings it and he overhears listening and watching her he's reminded of Lilith and feels for the reader understanding her more than when they first met during his first visit to the hotel (ep 5). I'm not sure of how to end it, so if you want to add anything to it I'm totally up for it. I just thought this song would match him so well.

A/N this is my first time writing for this man. Also,, i think it’s so funny that everyone is just like “short king” even tho alastor is canonically at least seven feet tall and charlie is at least like six feet tall. that’s so silly of us.

Encore (Lucifer x Reader)

Paring: Lucifer x Reader

Warnings: Domestic abuse briefly mentioned.

Word Count: 2,169

Master Lists:

Master Lists 

Hazbin Hotel Master List

Lucifer had just wanted to visit Charlie. With their relationship on the up and up, he was eager to not give up his chance to fix things with his favorite and only daughter. However, when he arrived at the hotel, throwing the doors open in unadulterated excitement, it was to find the normally busy lobby area empty.

The door fell shut behind him and his smile slipped from his face. Carefully, he ran his eyes over every inch of the room. There really was no one to be found.

"Maybe they're just all in their rooms, yeah." he said aloud to himself, "Charlie is probably... in her office! It must take a lot of work to run a place like this. Yeah, that's what it is."

Charlie, Vaggie, and Alastor had asked her to come with them to the movies. It was supposed to be a reward, for how hard they had all been working. They had really tried their best to convince Y/n to join them but, as always was the case when activities that took them out of the hotel were not required, Y/n had declined the offer.

Y/n was still getting used to Hell in all its big scary wonder, she still hurt. Everything was so complicated and while spending time with her thoughts didn't make her feel good per-say, spending time with others had been making her feel even worse. Besides, Charlie had given her some advice a few days ago she wanted to test out and she didn't exactly feel comfortable doing that while the hotel was crawling with people.

Y/n trusted Charlie. She was the first person to have extended a kind hand in her direction since her arrival in Hell. When Charlie had found out Y/n had been a concert pianist in the living world, she was elated.

"That's perfect!" she had said, leaning across the desk towards her, "We have a piano in the Hotel's auditorium!"

"I... I don't know if I really can... perform, right now. If that's alright." Y/n had replied, wringing her hands and unable to keep eyecontact.

"What? Oh no! That's not what I meant at all. It just seems... well if you did it for a living, you must have loved it. And it seems like you always have a lot on your mind, lots of stuff to process, and I know you don't like talking to people about it and, well, music always makes me feel better. It feels freeing, like I'm getting everything bottled up inside me out when I sing."

"I... I don't think I've ever really thought about it that way." she had admitted in response, "It was just something I had always done. I started lessons when I was three."

"Well, you should try it some time." Charlie had smiled back, "Maybe it will help."

Once she was sure everyone was gone and the hotel was hers alone, Y/n had slipped quietly from the confinement of her room. It had taken her a bit to find the auditorium. When she finally did and saw the piano it held, her breath caught in her throat.

It was a beautiful old baby grand made out of a warm cherry wood that matched the hotel's theming well. The lid had creaked when she had opened it, the keys had been dusty to the touch.

It had been a long time since she'd played. With mild joy, she let her fingers run the usual scales and arpeggios, finding a comfort in the familiarity of it all. Once satisfied her fingers were all warmed up and ready to play something real, she posed them over the keys.

Lucifer had lost himself in the depths of the labyrinthine hotel. The twists and turns of the hallways were unfamiliar to him despite the tour Charlie, Vaggie, and Alastor had lead him on. His hope at finding his daughter and spending some time with her had long since flickered out. He was on the verge of going home, his hand half raised to open a portal, when he heard it.

A faint echo of music flooded the hallway and Lucifer froze. It was haunting and distant, it drew him in. His sights set on a new sort of entertainment for the afternoon, he listened carefully and began to follow the sound.

As he got closer to its source, Lucifer realized that who ever was making the music was not just playing the piano but singing. Their voice was soft and lovely, nearly ethereal in its sheer humanity and anguish.

I would have bet on us

We were untouchable, you and I

I couldn't get enough

It was a fairytale come to life

Lucifer at last reached the half open door to the room the music appeared to be coming from. Not wanting to disturb the artist just yet, he transformed into a snake and slithered his way silently into the room. There, sitting at the piano on the stage, was Y/n.

I had your heart

At least that's what I thought

Now I'm second guessing every moment

Wondering where we went so wrong

He didn't really know much about Y/n except that she was new to Hell. Charlie had mentioned off hand that she had died in an incident of domestic abuse. Lucifer had no idea why she had ended up in Hell or what she was really like. When he had visited the hotel the first time, Y/n had been quiet and reserved. She had stood to the side and watched, barley even introducing herself to him.

At first, he had thought it to be disrespect. Not every demon in Hell was his biggest fan after all and while he was used to it, it still stung that even one of his daughters would be reformed sinners would be blatantly rude to him. He had quickly realized however from her flittering eyes and the way she clutched at herself that it wasn't disrespect at all. Y/n had been nervous.

Of course, Lucifer had made an attempt to make her feel more comfortable but, when he had extended his metaphorical hand, Y/n had just closed herself off even further. According to Charlie and Angel Dust, that was just what the demoness was like. She was shy.

You got inside my head

Taking up every inch of space

'Til there was no room left

Her hands flew across the keys with a practiced grace. Lucifer felt she knew he was there, watching. He felt that she just might be performing for him.

So many parts of me erased

You had my heart

And tossed it in the dirt

As he listened to the words she sung, they resonated with him. For a split second, he could have sworn it was Lilith sitting there at the piano, not Y/n. He shut his eyes, shaking his head slightly. He was oddly grateful when he opened them again to find it had just been his imagination.

Now that was a first. Since Lilith had disappeared seven years ago, Lucifer had been a mess. Lucifer was always a mess but, Lilith leaving like that really did him in. She had been his rock, his guiding light, his everything. He had risked everything for her and he had lost. At least, back in the old days, he had gained something out of the chaos. A daughter, a wife, a world to try and shape. One after another, they were all taken from him. Even now, even with their relationship improving the way it was, he felt Charlie slipping away again.

Now I'm second guessing every moment

Wondering where we went so wrong

I just keep asking

Would this have been worth it if I knew the ending all along.

Without really thinking about it, Lucifer retook his normal form and sat down in one of the auditorium's front row seats. Thankfully, Y/n was too wrapped up in her own world to notice and she just continued to play.

What started so perfect was over too fast

I should have seen the warning signs

'Cause perfect doesn't last

Perfect doesn't last

Light shined off her face, that was how Lucifer had realized she was crying. Despite the tears, her voice never wavered. A performer at her core, just like him.

I would have bet on us

We were untouchable, you and I

As the last lingering notes echoed through the room, he began to clap. Y/n jumped at the noise, turning to face him with wide eyes and cheeks flushed red with embarrassment. Lucifer was undeterred and, getting to his feet, gave her a standing ovation. After a few moments, he ceased in his applause.

"That was beautiful." he said, breaking the new silence that had fallen between them.

"Um, I'm sorry." Y/n's gaze fell back to the piano.

"No! No no no!" Lucifer exclaimed, jumping up onto the stage.

He kneeled before her, lifting her hands from her lap and taking them in his own. She turned to him, surprise drawing out the features of her face once again.

"Don't apologize for taking up space."

"I... I just didn't mean to disturb you is all. If you're looking for Charlie, she's out at the movies with everyone else."

"I was but, I can talk to her later, when she gets back. You didn't disturb me at all, Y/n. As I said, it was beautiful. It was..."

He trailed off, the smile slipping from his face.

"Oh fuck!" Y/n exclaimed, "I didn't mean to upset you! I'm really sorry, what can I do to make it better?"

"You didn't upset me." Lucifer shook his head, "You just... somehow managed to put words to the very things I've been struggling with the past couple years."

A smaller, much kinder and more genuine smile made its way onto his face.

"If you'd like to play more, I'd love to hear it."

Y/n's cheeks flushed red again.

"Theres no pressure." Lucifer shrugged, "Just giving you the option."

"An audience of one... well, it's a little intimidating." she admitted bashfully, "I'm used to the faceless mob of the crowd."

"I can see why. You have an undeniable gift."

"I guess... I don't know. Charlie just said it might help me process stuff. To play again, I mean."

"Was she right?"

Y/n paused in thought for a moment before nodding slowly.

"I think she might have been. My chest does feel a little lighter now."

"Then play."

"Um, mister... king of Hell? Sir?"

Lucifer laughed.

"You can just call me by my name. No formalities necessary. 'Mister king of Hell sir' was my fathers name."

Y/n laughed lightly at his terrible joke. The sound sparked a sudden joy in Lucifer's chest, one he hadn't felt in quite a long time.

"Well, Lucifer." she began again, stumbling a bit over his name.

"Yes?"

"I'll... um, I'll need my hands back. If I'm to keep playing."

"Wh..."

He looked down and his eyes widened. Lucifer hadn't realized he had still held her hands in his. Immediately he dropped them, getting to his feet and looking away in mild embarrassment.

"Sorry, about that."

"Don't apologize for existing." Y/n parroted his earlier words.

When he turned back to her, it was to find she was smiling slightly.

"How bad would it be if I said sorry again right now?"

"You'd be sounding like me."

"Lets make a deal then: no sorries unless something is actually wrong."

"What if I can't tell if your mad at me or not?"

Lucifer looked down at the seated demon. In not one of his wildest dreams could he ever imagine being mad at her but, that wasn't exactly something he could say.

"Then you can always ask."

"And you promise you wont lie to me?"

"I promise."

"Promise promise?"

"Yes!"

She eyed him suspiciously for a moment before nodding her head. Turning back to the piano, her hands found their place on the keys once again. She hesitated.

"I..." Y/n shot Lucifer a look over her shoulder, "Thank you."

"Thank you. There is some solace in knowing someone else out there feels the same way I do, if for different reasons."

"Yeah. There is, isn't there? Maybe part of our deal can be helping each other figure that all out too."

The suggestion had been half thought out. Y/n hadn't really meant to give it a voice, it had escaped her locked lips. She quickly turned back to the piano.

"Sorry. That was dumb."

"What did we just say about sorries!" Lucifer exclaimed, "No apologizing for existing. I think that suggestion sounds rather nice."

"Really?"

"Really."

"Okay. I... I'm actually going to play now. Is that okay?"

With a snap of his fingers, Lucifer reappeared in the seat he had previously inhabited. He crossed his legs, resting his hands on his knee.

"Whenever your ready."

----

Song is Perfect Doesn't Last by Beth Crowley as requested :)

[gremlingottoosilly]

"If you need to be mean"

Konig just got his promotion to colonel. It also came with deployment in a terrorist-ridden country, but at least he would get an adorable, civilian you as a prize. TW: Konig being a huge pervert, Canon-Typical violence, Dub-Con, Innocence kink, Age difference(Konig in his yearly 40, Reader in young 20)

Pairing: Konig x fem!Reader Tags: Fluff, Power Imbalance, Hurt/Comfort, Size Kink, Possessive Konig, Yandere Konig, Creepy scary stalker Konig, written mostly from Konig perspective Word count: 5213 My AO3

Chapter 2 Chapter 3 Chapter 4 Chapter 5

König hates this fucking country.

Shithole in the middle of nowhere, with literally nothing going on – some border quarrels with some terrorists that are desperately trying to settle into the big war on terror that won’t achieve a thing and would be meaningless anyway. No one wanted to actually station here – this is why they promoted him so quickly, just so they could send him away like a pack of garbage they can’t give two shit about throwing out. 

He never even wanted this promotion. Too much work, too many people, never enough time to relax. Payment is sweet, of course – if he only had time to use any of this. He is too old for new titles, you can’t teach old dog new tricks – and, quite frankly, he does feel terribly old while doing nothing but pushing papers and listening to some useless fucking recruits with their reports. 

Job is simple – stay on the base, make sure that the locals won’t become too villifed to the soldiers that are supposed to protect them, even though he already knows how people would feel about the PMC stationed in their city. Fights with occasional resistance from the outsider force that decided “Hey, let’s just annex our neighbor, what could possibly happen?”. He doesn’t know a lot about this country – but if they have enough money to hire KorTac to help the local forces, he might be quite interested. If he only had energy for that anymore – between relentless paperwork and occasional yelling at his stupid fucking nonsense of rookie – seriously, it feels like they hired a bunch of edgy 12 year olds instead of normal soldiers. 

Job is simple and he finds himself bored to death because this isn’t what he enlisted for. He wanted to fight, to kill, to burden this urge to hurt people who once wronged him with someone who is – probably, maybe, somehow – deserve it. Not really a noble cause, but he stopped playing knight in shining armor once they used him as an infiltration weapon instead of what he actually wanted. All hopes and goals in his life were buried deep with his first sniper rifle – and rude comments about his inability to sit still, even though he is still as good at being a killing machine as a human being possibly can. 

— Sir! We, uh, have a problem to report. 

Gut. 

A problem – this sounds as exciting as it can be. Last time his brigade got a problem, it was about some new recruits falling down with stomach ache because of the forged alcohol they were drinking. Also that one time someone tried to burst their way into the base – not fun, since officers took care of him, but it was at least something to do except for reading and scrolling through various housing options like he actually has a use of buying something with more than one bedroom. Like someone would look at him and love him – enough to pass through some easy fling and start living with him. No one would do that – even his parents couldn’t. 

Still, the problem sounds exciting. Maybe, he could actually go on a mission instead of feeling useless. They promoted him just to pin on the wall like a trophy.

— Repost immediately, soldier. What is it? 

— A civilian, well…a civillina woman…lady, broke the curfew. 

And here it is. Not an unexpected attack from his enemies, not even a drunken fight that someone from his subordinates decided to join and ended up getting their asses kicked. Is this what years of service come to? Watching over some stupid club girls broking the easiest fucking rule to follow, like getting home at midnight is a completely alien experience for them. One of the things he hates about his rank – he is used like a public figure, giving speeches, trying so hard to come up with something other than “Ja, we will kick asses of everyone who tries to infiltrate your country, don’t worry” and then he has to act like he knows what he is doing. Which he obviously doesn’t. If there was a way to just give up his rank and become a shadow again, a monster under a terrorist’s bed, he would do it. Without even a second to think. 

— Send her to the police. We aren’t supposed to deal with…

Then comes the second guy – he doesn’t even remember his name, fuck this, he is supposed to be a father to his troops, or big brother at least, but he couldn’t give less of a fuck to someone weaker – inferior, smaller, someone who will die within a week or so in his first battle because apparently, higher-ups just love recruiting spineless teenagers now. 

Second guy comes to the room, holding someone very firmly by their hand – and König isn’t religious, he isn’t even sure when was the last time he was at any church, the little prayers his grandma used to sing is long forgotten for him, but he sees your face and almost believes in angels. 

König is too old for this shit, again, he hates this country, his team, his rank – then he looks at your face, the way it twists with fear and nervousness because of course, one of his dumb subordinates is holding you too tight and the softness of your flesh – why in the world you are wearing such light clothes, it’s night outside, you will catch a cold and he would give you his jacket, but that would drown you under the weight of it, and he don’t want you to smell the alcohol he has on his clothes, terrible coping mechanism with boredom, and he might just give you something else, maybe, like his shirt or a…

Wait a minute. 

He doesn’t even know your name, even though he is sure this is something gorgeous and would look perfect next to his last name, but he looks at your face and all the years of his military training is suddenly washed away because he can’t even muster a thing out of his mouth. Thank god no one is forcing him to stop wearing his hood – he wouldn’t be able to survive otherwise, not with how hot his face feels right now. You are nervous, this is obvious, since you broke the curfew and went on the streets past 11 pm. He should just bring you to the police, he isn’t even sure why his soldiers would bring some random civilian to the base. He immediately wants to give this private a raise – for bringing him a goddess walking on Earth. Angel, succubus, all of the fancy names and…it feels like he is going crazy. And he should compose himself. Be a good example of a rotten mercenary commander. 

— Why were you breaking the curfew, miss..?

He hates how squeaky his voice sounds, even after all the years in service he can’t get rid of that boyish tone and nervousness every time he is talking to women. All the fear is immediately washed away after you tell him your name – and it’s gorgeous, perfect, feels like something he can devour, something he can moan in the depth of the night while using his hand as a poor substitute for the warmth of your body. 

The pause lingers too much and he already suggests just…taking you. To further investigation. to see if you are really just an innocent person caught up in breaking the rules or an enemy spy – which would give him the perfect opportunity to interrogate you and hold you for a bit longer. He wants you to be a problem, actually – that would give him the authority to hold you here, to think about you in a way that won’t immediately make him a bad person. 

— Went to the pharmacy. Forgot about the time, I’m…I’m sorry. 

You look guilty and weak and nervous obviously – a good girl caught up in the reality of her home country now implementing new rules just so it won’t get annexed by their neighbor. He wants to protect you – or give you the real reason to be scared of him. He wants to be good, but you look too cold in those clothes and he wants to give you something more. Or warm you up in a different way – which makes him feel horrible, his skin crawls and hands are fidgeting again even though he is almost sure he forgot about that habit after a few trigger-happy moments with the enemies. 

— Pharmacies should be closed by this time. Why were you here so late? 

Soldier that brought you here left you with König – colonel, you saw him in the newspapers and on TV, some public speeches while concealing his face in various ways. You don’t trust him, don’t trust the mercenaries – how can you believe that they are going to save you if they don’t even dare to show their faces? He is even scarier in person – big, hulking, too muscular to feel safe, with something like a sack thrown over his head. You want to forget about the medicine you bought and just run away, but that would only mean outright saying that you are guilty. 

You brace yourself and try not to feel too small, but König just wants to wrap his hands around you and throw that weak body of yours on his shoulder. Not letting you go away. Ever.

— I…got lost. Sorry, I know what this looks like, but I just changed the apartment and…look, this is a bog misunderstanding. I have my documents, I’m local! Not some spy or anything, I promise. 

Too bad – you would have the opportunity to escape if you were an enemy. Some evil and wicked femme fattal that is here to seduce him and get the important information out of him – but if you are telling the truth and nothing, but a civilian, he isn’t sure that he could save you from…falling to his hands. It’s stupid, he should really just find someone to fuck, he is getting desperate over the first cute and gentle girl he saw in this place – but really, do he has a chance with a soldier if just a helpless weakling like you can make him kneel? He needs to compose himself. 

— You really shouldn’t be out so late. There is a reason the curfew is upheld. It saves you from the danger. 

— For now the only danger after midnight is your soldiers, apparently. 

Your breath hitches as you understand what you just said – god, who was holding your tongue and making you blurt this in front of the fucking commander? You might have had the chance of just escaping before, you weren’t doing anything wrong, you know that some of your friends were breaking the curfew after a party or late visits, but they were never held to the police or martial law – soldiers are understanding of the situation, no one from the young people actually wants to stay in their houses no matter the threats war can bring. You might have the chance of going out with nothing but some harsh words about those stupid younglings ignoring the rules – but now you insulted his men and this will probably bring you to jail for the night at least or something even more…

He laughs. And the sound of it makes your cheeks warm. 

— Ja, I can understand why you would say that. But you shouldn’t break the curfew. 

You feel like winning a lottery, but the prize isn’t money – it’s the chance of getting out of this creepy building and going home to your warm sheets and slight smells of devastation and loneliness. 

— I’m really sorry, sir, I won’t do this again. Promise. 

You look guilty, and König loves this expression. The softness of your face, the way your eyes are filled with tears when you think he would actually make you goto jail or do something even worse. He relishes in this power over you – even though he doesn’t mingle with civilians, always keeps a safe distance with women around him, never dares to even give them a careful look. He wants to take you away – protect from the world around you, from this fucking place, from all the dangers. The only thing that is dangerous to you seems like him – because he is the only one with power here, the only one who can decide whether he wants to behave like an asshole and lock you away or…

— I can’t just let you go. Let me…I can escort you to your residence so I can make sure you actually went home. And not somewhere else.

He looks at your pharmacy bag – it's a shitty plastic one, transparent and see-through. He understands immediately why you would decide to run to the pharmacy so abruptly even within the vicinity of the curfew – and the fact your bag contains pads and pain medicine only makes him want to scoop you in his arms and get you to his quarters. Government gave them a pretty nice location for the base and he, as the commander, got a bedroom that won’t even make you think about the military. Perks of quartering outside of base, even the barracks are nicer than the ones at home – and he would love to introduce your sore body to the comforts of warm sheets. 

You look at him, surprised and nervous, your adorable lips twists in a pout as you think about your options. You can’t really say no, this can make him angry and resentful – and these aren't emotions you want the local military personnel to feel about you. He is also scary, and stares too much – you don’t want him to look at you like this, both surprised and depraved, but something in his figure still makes you trust him. Maybe it’s that weird propaganda about them protecting your country – he is a public figure, he can’t be evil, right? Maybe it’s just the way his hands fidgets as if he is nervous about your answer – or little cracks in his voice that makes you blush just a little every time you hear it. Or you are simply too tired to not comply. 

— I, um…are you sure? You must have some other things to do. I don’t want to be a bother, really. 

— I want to protect you from harm. Nights are dangerous. 

You want to say that it’s okay, you spend more time in this country than he is – and you know every little corner of the city by this point, no matter the military outposts and destruction. You also want to say that this is creepy as fuck and you don’t want a random guy to just know where you live – but you can’t say that, you are already almost buried yourself with that long tongue of yours, and the only thing you want to do right now is just drink your ibuprofen in peace and get teleported to your bed. 

You want to say no, but it almost feels like something romantic and even though he isn’t showing his face, the view of his muscles, bursting out his clothes and body armor, enough to make you agree. You can regret that decisions later – but with the way his eyes light up like he is a puppy, you probably won’t. 

— Okay. I…I mean, if that’s okay with you, sir. 

— I live to serve. Und ich diene gerne jemanden, dir so bezaubernd ist wie du.

— Sorry?

It sounds like German, and the way he pronounces it makes you feel like it’s something important – but you don’t want to ask for translation, he mutters it under his breath, Maybe some curses about stupid girls getting caught by his soldiers and how he needs to escort them to make sure they are not enemy spies ready to put their knives in his back.

— Just show the way. 

He is awkward, he doesn’t know what to do with his hands, he looks at you and fights the urge to just squish you with his hands. You are pouting, your hands are trembling, and you are shaking – maybe from the cold or just from fear. König hates himself for not understanding whether he wants you to be scared of him or not. There is something dark, predatory almost, in having someone as adorable as you shaking like a leaf – but he also wants to just scoop you in his hands and make sure you will never be afraid of him. 

He is awkward, silent, he goes on the open side of the sideroad like protecting you from any vehicles that may cross the road at this hour – even though the only ones who are allowed to move at this time of day are hospital workers and his soldiers. His hand looms over your side, like he is not sure whether he wants to just grab you by your shoulder or allow you to lead in a more simple way. You feel protected in a way – you can’t even read his expressions because of that weird mask he is wearing, but his eyes are strangely warm every time he looks at you and thinks you are not looking at him. 

König wants to talk, but he isn’t sure what he even can say to you. The weather is nice? It’s the night, a cold one, and he doesn’t want you to catch some weird illness, but he also doesn’t want to seem like a creep by giving you his jacket. He would do so in a blink of an eye, he would die seeing your smaller body wrapped in his clothes like a nice little gift – but he knows who he is. Monster, giant, always too much and never enough, zero experience with someone who is one his one night stand in some lousy pub when he hates himself a bit less than usual. And you smell clean, civilian, sweet almost, he feels like a dog by just looking at the way your cheeks are blushing from the cold weather. 

He wants to initiate the conversation, know what you like and dislike, maybe learn your opinion about the situation – many locals dislike military presence, he understands this, KorTac isn’t known for being the best guys around here, but they get the job done, however bloody this might be. He would give away anything to just be able to talk – to speak like a normal person, without scaring you or making you think that he is weird. It’s borderline embarrassing, over the many years of his life he was thinking that he would outgrow his anxiety somehow – and here he is, fidgeting with the stupid anti stress toy in his pocket that his therapist gave him, not knowing how to talk to a girl in his grown up years. 

— You’re local.

It doesn’t even sound like a genuine question, it’s more like a threatening statement and he doesn’t like the way it sounds. He can’t gave it back now, it would be even weirder, he just wants to calm down and breathe, but even this is fucking impossible when every time he looks at you, it seems like you are only getting prettier.

— Lived here all my life, sir. 

You’re nervous, and he at least finds some comfort in this – he is not the only one who is scared here, even though he understands that you will surely be more scared than him. But it still comforts him just a little, knowing that you are in roughly the same boat – he can smile under his hood and attempt to at least pretend to be normal. Even if this would be literally impossible for someone like him. 

— Where do you work? 

It sounds like an interrogation and you are not sure if you want to answer truthfully – he isn't trying to force you right now, he isn’t even touching you no matter how closely you are walking, but you are smart enough to understand why telling a random man you just met where you live and work is a bad idea. Even if the man itself is a prominent figure in protecting – or not – your country and literally walks you home because you got lucky to not be sent to the police for breaking the curfew. You would just lie to him about where you work and, hopefully, never see him again – but it’s not just a random guy you met on Tinder. He probably has the resources to check if you really work in said place and if you didn’t and just lied to him then, well…he isn’t threatening you, but your overthinking is enough to make you scared. 

— Just a waitress. Cafe I work at isn’t very far from my apartment. 

You even tell him the address, all while praying he won’t visit you at work. He has the right, of course, especially if he would leave a good tip, but military personnel staying at your cafe probably won’t be good for business. Clients may go away, and that would mean leaving you without tips – and then you can kiss your shitty apartment goodbye. He probably won’t visit you, he is just asking this to fill the awkward silence and check whether you are a spy or not – how confident your answers are, if your story checks out or not. He is a colonel, he must have a lot of other stuff to do instead of chasing over some rule breakers. 

— Hm. 

König already knows where he will be eating every day from now on. But…hell, can he do this, really? It would probably be very awkward for both of you, and you may think that is stalking you, which he definitely is, but doesn’t want to show it yet. He can give you a nice tip every time, he sure as hell has money for it, but then you would think that he is trying to buy you, which he would of course try to if you would be fine with it because honestly, girl as adorable as you should get all the nicest thing she wants to, and he can provide for it, but his damned awkwardness would never let him outright say this, which would lead to a very uncomfortable situation and…

— We might need someone local to help with operations. 

Nailed it. Right? 

— Wh…what do you mean, sir? 

You look scared, nervous, he doesn’t want you to be scared, you’re supposed to feel safe around him! He might hate higher ups for giving him this rank and sending him to this fucking country, but he will protect you no matter what. He wants to be useful, for people to stop being scared of him – to start liking him instead, even if some cold, dismissive way of just stopping bothering him with stupid stuff. He would allow you to bother him all the time, he would protect you and make sure you are alright – you just have to let him, that would be really easy and…

— We’re strangers here. Lots of operations crossed because locals refuse to cooperate. We might need a guide out here. 

He sounds nonchalant, like he doesn’t really care about your answer, but the grip of his hands is stating otherwise. He throws you nervous looks, cold eyes flickering with anxiety as you take your time to answer, secretly hoping that you would get home before you’d had to state this. It doesn’t feel like a genuine question, more like a statement again. More like you don’t really have an option to say no, since he still has the power over you. Since he still looks and sounds like someone who can and will throw you over his shoulder and use it as a cannon folder. 

— I…I’m not sure, sir. I have to work at my actual job. 

Can he blow up your cafe? That would greatly diminish the chances of bumping into you on a romantic Sunday morning, ordering coffee just the way you secretly like it, and then leaving you a very generous tip that would immediately show you what a sophisticated and loaded gentleman he is. He can say that enemies did it, and then he would execute those poor people for ever messing with civilians. He can also get some people from the government to close it, so you wouldn’t have any place to work and then you would be simply forced to work with him – and help him get out of this country as soon as possible. He would pay you well, of course, and being your boss would be a very…interesting experience for him. 

— Are you sure?

You bite your lips and it's proven to be a horrible idea in such terrible weather – your skin breaks easily and you feel the blood in your mouth. Nice – now you would have to invest in lip balms again even though you are sure as hell that even yesterday the weather was nice. Colonel – König, you remember his callsign, no names of course, some twisted secret identity over protecting people who can literally kill you and won’t have consequences – look at you and you can swear to god that his eyes are narrowed, studying your features a bit more. Is he going to kill you for refusing the…job offer? Demand of working with mercenaries to protect your country? 

— Sorry, I…I really need to think about this. And get at least two weeks notice from my job. 

He is too focused on the way blood is glistening on your lips. He wants to lift the lower half of his hood and lick every little drop lingering in your mouth. Kiss this little wound until you would turn into a moaning, crying mess under him. Hold you so tight, he would leave bruises in places his fingers were – all while you are allowing him to. He isn’t delusional enough to think you like him the way he adores you already, but he is delusional enough to imagine you would comply with him mostly – he is a great person. Except for almost everything, of course. 

The road to your home is lonely, no one around, obviously. People aren’t breaking the curfew on the main streets – except for you, apparently, they are tending to do stuff in the shadows if they need something to go out at night. He looks at every street light with suspicion, almost wanting for someone to try and attack you – that would allow him to be your hero, protector, to put out all of his pent-up aggression on someone else while being praised for it. He wants someone to try and kill him just to feel a bit more alive – but then you stop in front of the house, and it only takes one look for him to decide that no, he isn’t going to let you go that easily. He may not be a good or even decent person, but he is not allowing an adorable little thing like you to live in that fucking rathole. 

— You live here? 

— Yes. Thank you for, well, looking after me. I know that I broke rules, I won’t…won’t do that again. Sorry. 

— No. 

— What do you mean “No”?

Is he going to inspect your apartment? You are pretty sure that you left your bed in a very chaotic state and there is more than one pair of panties lying on the couch. Not even speaking about how horrible your living conditions are – tiny apartments, barely enough space for one person fitting in 20 square feet with all of their stuff inside, and an overwhelming desire to blow something up each morning when one of your neighbors is fighting again. 

You don’t have anything to hide, but you are getting pretty tired of people who just think that because they sold their bodies to the military, they can do what they want. 

— It’s a horrible place for a girl to live. 

Hey! You might hate your place, but even that rathole of an apartment doesn't deserve something like this. 

— Well, it’s not a castle, but…I manage. 

— Don’t you have another place to sleep? 

He is fighting with the urge to invite you to the base instead. Far greater place for a little goddess like you, much nicer than…this. He has to physically restrain himself from throwing a hand on your shoulder. He just stared, hoping that you would pull a prank on him and actually has some better living conditions – he can’t bear thinking about you in that kind of life instead. 

— It’s a nice one, really! At least I don’t have to live with roommates. 

He can be your roommate. No, not even like this. He can buy you a freaking house if you would want, just pick a place, preferably in Austria, and that would be easy. He would love to just provide for you, to get to live with someone as adorable – as in need of protection as you. He understands that being this delusional is off brand even to him and his wild fantasies, but he spends too much time hating his work lately, and he needs some outlets, breathing room to just drown himself in fantasies about a nice girl who can actually like him. Who can be his everything, a cure to fix him even though his therapist says such expectations from your partner are toxic and codependent. 

He knows that he can’t say anything to you right now. If anything, you would dismiss any of his worries and just call him a psycho – would be right, probably, he doesn’t even know why he is so obsessed with your safety all of a sudden. He is only self-reflective enough to understand that he can’t act right now, no matter how much he would want to. He can only sigh and let the situation go, for now. He can always just show up at the place you work at. Totally not creepy at all, definitely, completely. 

— Be safe, hase. This time is very dangerous for a girl like you. 

— It’s…okay, really. You don’t have to worry about me, sir. 

Oh, but he wants to. 

Oh, but you want to run up the stairs and close the door behind you as fast as you possibly can. And maybe, just maybe, give him your number – definitely for consultation about the safety and how you can forfeit from breaking the curfew later in life. 

He puts a hand on your shoulder, large fingers tracing over your thin shirt, and goosebumps that are running on your skin aren’t from just the cold weather. You feel ashamed for kinda liking the situation – you are creeped out by him, you are curious about him, and you kinda want him to do something else. But he squeezes the soft flesh of your shoulders, rolling a bit lower, to your back – and then lets go. You breath hitches as he takes a step back, clenching his hand as if fighting the urge to do something else. 

— We’ll meet again. 

You just nod, not sure if you want it or not. König makes a point to determine which apartment is yours based on the window placement and pay you a visit in his leave time. 

[mischiefmaker615]

If You Think I'm Pretty

Summary: "If you think I'm pretty.. lay your hands on me..''

Rating: R

Requester: @Alex_Turner_h03 (wattpad)

Note: Inspired by the song "If You Think I'm Pretty" by Artemas

Glances were stolen, words were barely exchanged. What does this woman do to me? I once had this realm on it’s knees.. but all she does is make me want to sink to mine…

Loki always took advantage of the common area, usually using reading as an excuse just to be where she normally would show up half the time when she wasn’t out working for.. them. She was almost perfect.. perfect in every way if she hadn’t picked the side to be with those Heroes. Perfect enough to be a queen..

her fierce, independent demeanor was enough to feel himself harden, even if it wasn’t directed at him. he shifted himself to get a little more comfortable, resting the book a bit more down onto his lap to hide the obvious while she conversed with the soldier and completely ignored his presence while he watched her.

A simple conversation, a friendly one with all but him. did she hate him? there was no doubt, he didn’t exactly earn the affections of all under this roof after his actions on New York. Despite the disgust of housing with these heroes, he considered himself grateful that there was a positive side to it; what he’d give to have her.. even for but one night.

Her sharp eyes glanced towards him when her conversation was done, causing his own to fall down back to the pages while he held his breath. Hesitating, she took advantage of his adverted eyes to take in his own features before she turned and headed down the halls before he could raise his gaze back up. That’s how things were wasn’t it? stares exchanged but words were rare. Did he try? Of course, at first some sharp witted comments or even some subtle flirts he thought would capture her affections, but two things normally would happen when they did get to speak.

She would reply with a tongue more wittier than his- leaving a sly comment lost on his lips as he failed to think of something fast enough. Or, he would fail to think of what to say all together, merely stuttering as his eyes did all the talking and his cheeks would heat up when she would offer him ‘taking a picture for it would last longer’. It must be a Midgardian quote, one he would try to figure out the meaning as she would say it often before she would walk off, making him feel like a shy school boy unable to properly talk to women.

I was never like that.. I would never struggle to earn a woman’s attention, let alone get them into bed the very same night.. perhaps Midgardians were a lot more different than I thought as far as breeding goes.. she most certainly is. By gods if we could even just keep a conversation going, that would be all I could ask for if I could just live my god forsaken life here in her mere presence..

An exhale left his nostrils, frustration having his shoulders sink as he stared down at his book but didn’t even bother reading it. he was hard.. and it was distracting. He thought about retreating to his room, wanting to take care of it as he inhaled and closed his eyes. Thinking of her wasn’t helping..

His eyes reopened as he looked down the hall at the sound of a door opening and closing. He chair was fortunate to have the perfect view of the common area and able to see down the main hall where people’s sleeping quarters were. Hell, he usually woke up early to claim this spot just to see her make her way in the mornings with the cutest bed head or a ruffled over sized t shirt he was learning to appreciate. But she wasn’t the one who left her closed door now.. The Hawk was…

Upon seeing Barton leave her room, looking casual but reserved as he gave him an acknowledged glance before disappearing towards the elevators, Loki’s book snapped shut. Why would he be in her room? For what purpose did he have that he couldn’t communicate out here for with her? A strange feeling spread over Loki’s body, causing him muscles to tense and his breathing shuddered as he realized the jealous feeling he got upon seeing another male leave her room.

That just got him harder for some twisted reason- jealousy was a fuel for feral. He didn’t like it, in fact, it just enraged him as he assumed a mere mortal like Barton would be better qualified to have a night with her, than for her to pick him!

Standing up now without thinking, he used the fuel now to practically march down the hall and knock on her door before he realized what he was doing. Just a moment later, she opened the door- wearing just her casual shorts and a tank top, cleavage on display as his body tensed with restraint as he forced his eyes to lock with hers and not slip. Just upon seeing her though, his mind seemed to grow blank, a sudden shyness at her independent and in-control gaze had his body relax a little and rage forgotten as he shifted in place.

‘’may I help you?’’ she aid casually, a brow raised as if surprised to see him outside her door. His first time ever being at her door in fact.

‘’um.. actually..-‘’ he began, his mind finding it difficult to come up with a reason on why he is here now that his jealous rage is put out with seeing her. Especially while she crossed her arms, the action raising her best a bit more as she leaned on the door frame and his eyes flickered down to his hard on he clearly forgot about, causing him to inhale with a redness to his cheeks.

‘’I think we need to talk,’’ she said calmly, looking unbothered and very much in control of herself as she turned and motioned with a nod of her head to follow.

Loki hesitated, watching how her hips swayed as she walked more into her room and he slowly stepped inside, his hand closing the door behind him without his eyes leaving her form. As soon as she turned around, his eyes quickly switched back up to hers and he blurted out the first thought that came to mind.

‘’are you alright?-‘’

She raised a brow again and looked like she almost laughed as she placed her hands on her hips. ‘’what do you mean?’’

Loki held his breath, unable to backtrack from this as he kicked himself for his quick words and slow mind. ‘’I saw Barton leave your room and-‘’

‘’and.. what? I can’t have men in my room?’’ she questioned with a quiet tone, nothing indicating if she was offended or not as she slowly wanted towards with him with hands behind her back casually.

‘’that’s not- no I mean..’’ gods why is it so difficult to speak to this woman..

‘’or.. were you preferring to have a god in my room instead?’’ she questioned, a small smirk tugging at her lips as she looked up at him with just a foot apart from where he stood, his expression frozen as he looked a bit shocked at what she was referring too.

‘’are you referring to.. Th-‘’ he didn’t want his tongue to say his brother’s name, half grateful she interrupted him as his body began to tense.

‘’I know that your shitty Loki, and that your bad for me.’’ She shook her head, reminding him of his past faults as his eyes cast down to the ground when he knew she was right. He had no chance with her.. so what was all this for then as she practically teased him with her mere presence?

‘’I know..’’ he whispered, his eyes looking everywhere else but her. His eyes briefly took in the sight of her room, how little she kept out for any eye to see even if she didn’t allow anyone in here. to be honest, there was no sight that the bed was messed up to indicate any sexual activity with Barton and that made his body relax a little as his eyes slowly moved back over to hers.

‘’but I can’t stop thinking about it..’’ she whispered, somehow appearing just another step away as her chin tilted upwards to look up at him. his lips parted slightly, wanting to ask what she was referring to before her eyes flicked down at his erection that strained in his pants still. ‘’and I know how much you can’t stop thinking about it..’’ she whispered.

What was this woman doing to him.. the perfume aroma in the air almost had his eyes fluttering closed as he slowly allowed his eyes to travel down to her cleavage, almost not caring anymore at what he could look at if she was taking full advantage at staring at his bulge anyway. This was her doing.. she made him this way.. made him feel this way.. made him want her.. and yet be asked just to merely hear her say it.

‘’thinking about what?..’’ he challenged, his voice barely a whisper as he practically studied how her chest rose up and down as she breathed, how her teeth captured her bottom lip as she got even closer where he had to look down his nose to see her and his fists clenched, almost as if restraining himself as his palms itched to reach out and touch her.

‘’how much we want each other..’’ she whispered and his breath caught, seeing how smirked at every ounce of truths she held why his lips closed, having no sharp wit or denial and his jaw tightened. His eyes growing absolutely feral at her next words.

“If you think I'm pretty,.. lay your hands on me..’’

His body almost shook, as if he was fighting every ounce in himself to keep from pouncing on her, ravaging her like a wild animal as his muscles tensed in restraint.

She had given him permission.. and his eyes looked over her at a speed of eagerness as if he didn’t know where to start first at an all you can eat feast while his hands rose on their own. They started by resting at her hips, the tank top just short enough where he could slip his thumbs under the hem to stroke at her skin, and his eyes fluttered closed at the warmth and smoothness of her flesh he only dreamed at being able to touch.

He didn’t think he could possibly get harder until he felt her delicate hand rest against his bulge, his hips almost pushing forward into it on their own as his eyes fluttered open while a hand slowly ran up her back, between her shoulder blades, against her neck before he tangled his fingers into her hair.

His grip was gentle but enough to have her head tilt back while his knees bent ever so slightly so he could lean down, doing his best not to move his hips to keep her rubbing going while her lips parted with a small gasp at his grip in her locks.

His lips parted almost as his nose brushed against hers, their eyes looking at each other through hooded lids while their breaths fell short and his lips barely brushed against hers. He wasn’t sure if he was teasing her or himself, but he tested the waters as he slowly ran his tongue against her bottom hip, their lips not yet completely touching as he hesitated, seeing how she had no intent on stopping him before he finally brushed his lips firstly on hers, earning a moan from them both as it vibrated through.

In that instant, his other arm wrapped around her mid-section, pulling her closer against his while her hands ran up his chest, feeling as though his plain black shirt couldn’t have gotten any thinner before they reached around his shoulders to wrap around his neck. Her arms pulled himself more, deepening the kiss as their tongues fought for dominance while he bent to accommodate her height, only resulting in his hips backing up ever so slightly.

He wasn’t having that.

He moved forward as his hips practically chased hers while she backed up as well, feeling the strong need to push his groin against hers if only she held still. His eyes flicked briefly up to see how he was backing her up towards the bed, his pace speeding up as they stumbled back in anticipation that he would be pressed up against her. Yet in the last second of feeling the back of her legs touch the bed, she turned them both so he had fallen back onto it.

There was a light bounce as his back hit the mattress, his legs hanging off the bed where she took full advantage of climbing up on top of him while they caught their breaths with their lips parted for now.

‘’is this just sex?..’’ she whispered as his hands roamed his chest while Loki tried registering her words while he sat himself up on his elbows, enough to pull his shirt off as his movements were fast and desperate.

‘’I’m afraid darling.. I might come back more desperate and obsessed with you..’’ he breathed as her hands ran against his toned chest, her nails raking his skin and made him grown as she rubbed her groin against his own.

She was aroused, tilting her head back as she looked up to the ceiling while she rubbed her clit against his bulge, hating clothes every single moment that passed before he answered her thoughts by leaning forward and yanking her shirt up and off.

‘’I think that’s something I can live with..’’ there was a smile in her words as he sat up, his hands running up her back as he desperately touched as much exposed skin as he could while pulling her forward, his lips kissing between her breasts and what was exposed while his hand moved up to unhook her bra, skillfully one handed.

She moved her arms forward to let the straps fall down before she tossed it aside, her hands immediately flying into his hair while he took a breast into her mouth and it caused her to shiver while he moaned. The pure arousal he was giving her made her thighs tighten around hers, his lap making it impossible for her to close her legs as she bit her lip while he moved to pay equal attention to her other breast. His nails gently raked down her back, going down and gripping her hips while his pelvis every now and again would buck up with the instinct of trying to thrust into her.

He needed her..

Her hands slowly moved to his chest before she shoved him, his mouth giving a small pop from her chest before his back hit the mattress again while she moved to rest on the mattress between his legs. His breath caught, his head raising slightly to watch her as his fingers curled at the sheets under him while her’s worked to undo his belt, button and the zipper came down.

He exhaled as his head fell back, the relief of her pulling his cock out gave him a little bit more breathing room yet she didn’t have him relax for long as she stroked him slowly. His breath caught as his fists gripped the sheets, primarily to keep himself still as his body tensed while she pleasured him with her dainty hand that could barely wrap all the way around him.

‘’g-gods Y/N..’’ he breathed in short breaths, his mouth open as small moans and whimpers left his lips and his eyes fluttered to feel her warm tongue run against his tip. Gods what this woman did to him was unexplainable.. she’d say the word and he would be more than willing to do her bidding without hesitation.

‘’you’re so big..’’ she breathed, almost shuddering in her own pleasure as she opted to swaddle his leg, rubbing and grinding herself against him while she bent down to run her tongue up his cock before she placed the tip into her mouth.

His hands hesitated in the air, his eyes closed as if by any second his fingers would reach and grip her, but he remained still as he fell lost to her touch. Her tongue ran around and against his tip before she pulled more of him into her mouth. He was to large, to much for her mouth could handle but her hands handled the rest she couldn’t fit while she slowly began to bob her head up and down.

Every so slowly he reached out and his hands rested against her head, using all his might to restrain himself from gripping her hair and opted to stroking her head instead, petting her as breathless words whispered from his lips.

‘’good girl.. god’s you feel so amazing.. p-please.. don’t stop… keep going.. f-fuck..’’ all words that would leave his mouth here and there until all he could do was fall back into his foreign Asgardian language she couldn’t understand but knew he was pleased.

She smiled around his cock, unable to understand his language but found it extremely arousing all the same as she did her best to take more of his cock so he was hitting the back of her throat. His fingers curled ever so slightly into her hair, earning a moan from her throat that sent vibrations against his dick and his back arched, causing slight tears to her eyes but she kept going as his reactions spurred her on to go faster.

Her head rose as she gasped for breath, her hands taking over as she allowed herself to breath while saliva slightly fell down her lips with dick drunk eyes before she would resume with her mouth. His body began to twitch, his hips pushing up every now and again, the back of his mind sorry to have gagged her every now and again but his focus was on one thing at the moment, and she was going to give it to him as he neared his peak.

With a moan and his fingers grasping her hair to force her down a bit more, he came into her mouth and her fingers dug her nails into his thigh as she got her own orgasm in the process of humping his leg. His cock pumped and spurt as he gasped and his eyes fluttered open while he road his high, hearing her becoming a moaning mess as she quivered in her pleasure high. He finally finished, gasping for breath as she slowly rose her head off of his cock, her lips parted as she took in breaths while a smile of triumph came to her features.

His eyes gazed at her, his head slowly raising his forced strength as his arms reached for her, in which she gladly crawled to him where he could hold her against his chest, both of them covered in sweat and feeling each other’s breath slowly turn back to normal while she buried her face in the crook of her neck. He smelled heavenly, her fingers curling ever so slightly against her shoulder as if he would disappear right then and there, and her grip was the only thing to prevent him from vanishing.

Just before she thought he had fallen asleep with her own eyes slowly closing, he slowly began to roll, pushing her back so she was laying down while he moved himself to gaze down at her with his hands framing her shoulders with a mischievous look In his eyes.

‘’I do think you’re pretty..’’ he quoted her from earlier, his voice sounding like he was still catching his breath but his smirk while his hand dragged down her stomach to grip the hem of her shorts indicated he had more than enough energy to keep going.

‘’I think you are absolutely ravishing.. no more than a goddess in my eyes darling.. and if you think that me touching you is enough to prove that..’’ he whispered as his head bent down to begin to leave open mouth kissing against her neck while her hands began to shake and grip his shoulders while his other hand slipped under her shorts and underwear; a gasp leaving her lips as her back arched while his finger tips found her clit.

‘’then I am prepared to prove it to you.. all.. night.. long..’’ he purred, stroking her with every word that left his mouth. 

More Musical Mischief One Shots have been posted here ♥ just DM if you'd like to request a song one shot :D 

Tag List: @eleniblue @lokilaufeysondiaries @fire-in-her-veinz @asgards-princess-of-mischief @foxherder @liminalpebble @lokisgoodgirl

[cokou]

𝚂𝚞𝚙𝚎𝚛𝚗𝚘𝚟𝚊 𝚃𝚛𝚒𝚘 + 𝙰𝚌𝚎 × 𝙵𝚎𝚖!𝚁𝚎𝚊𝚍𝚎𝚛

sum. Forcing your boyfriend to adopt a new fuzzy friend into the household, maybe you've spent too much time with the fuzzy. ˏˋ°•*⁀➷ tw. Fluff. Jealousy. Law's and Ace's a bit longer cause, favoritism. ˏˋ°•*⁀➷ a/n. New writing style! We could never go wrong with loving fuzzy and cute animals!! Dont transfer or translate in any platforms,this is my only account, will not be cross posted anywhere! masterlist♡

ˏˋ°•*⁀➷𝙻𝚊𝚠

After joining the Heart Pirates and dating their captain, your number one entertainment is to soend time with Bepo and Law. While Bepo does feel embarrassed for your acts to him, you absolutely felt like he's a huge cuddly bear more than a scary one.

He even complained to Law himself that he should get you your very own fuzzy friend since you've bothered Bepo so much he couldn't face you anymore without getting embarrassed! Law, the asshole he is, refused to get you one.

You very much enjoyed the idea and pestered Law into getting you one yourself and have some dignity for Bepo, then, he finally agreed. You both visited a pet shop, and just with it's entrance you couldn't leave anymore. Inside were full of cute animals waiting to be adopted, you just wanted to take them all.

"(Name)-Ya, what about this guy?" He pointed and peeked into the small cage, and there, was a white fluffy kitty who has just woken up from its slumber. Yes, perfect! It looked so cute and cuddly! You already fell inlove with it just by looking! "Awh, look at how much she resembles Bepo!"

You both took her back, and upon your arrival you set her free in her new home, the sub.

For the past few weeks, your attention had been glued to your new friend, not wanting anything on your path. It was so bad you had more pictures of her than you and Law combined! And the way you trip because you watch her instead of where you were going.

Law on the other hand, was definitely not feeling it, he felt like the white furball just replaced him with everything! You shared a bed with her, she gets your attention, she gets to be with you all day! If he were honest, he would blurt out how jealous he was for the furball.

In which, you suspected him for. "Law, are you really okay? You've been quiet and only staring since you sat down."

"I told you I am okay, don't worry." He finally let out a sigh after realizing you weren't with the kitten anymore, that was until he heard meow, and behind you was the kitten. You picked her up and setted her into your lap, receiving a piercing glance from Law.

"Are you okay? You're doing the stare aga— ohhhh..." You had finally realized that he was jealous, not by anyone, but the kitty that you've been giving attention to.

"What?" "Don't tell me you're jealous of our little furball!" You laugh at him. "What?! W-why the hell would you think that?"

"Law, it's quite obvious...come here, lay with us." You invited him with open arms and he jumped right into you.

ˏˋ°•*⁀➷𝙻𝚞𝚏𝚏𝚢

Ever since Chopper had joined the Straw Hats, you couldn't take your hands off his cheeks and head, continuesly patting and hugging him from his cuteness. Even your boyfriend, Luffy had agreed!

Chopper was definitely nice to have around, when you're stressed? You pat him. When you need to let it out? Hug him. He's just so cute and fuzzy! The way you'd kill people when you hear them talk bad about Chopper, because you refuse to let people think that he was a monster.

Eventually Luffy thought that you and Chopper became best friends of how you two always chatter about everything, at first he taught it's what makes the crew more unique.

But eventually, after a month, he noticed how you'd been glued with the reindeer all the time. He taught it was normal since you two were best friends but, this time you might have crossed the line.

"(Name)!! I'm hungry, can you cook meat?" He asked you with the usual big smile on his face. "Oh no Luffy, could you ask Sanji? I'm hanging out with Chopper today.." Bad Idea, you never refused to cook him meat even if you were busy. He knew you enough to just refuse to cook meat for him. The way he frowned as you waved him and went into the dock with Chopper.

Later that night, when everyone was asleep, you felt someone tugging your clothes. "Pst, (Name)." It was Luffy.

"Eh? Luffy? Why are you awake at a time like this.." you groggily whispered. "Just come here" You spproach his area and he pulled you with him.

"Finally some peace between us" He gave you a big grin and placed his hand on your back. "It's been a while you know— you've always been with Chopper."

"Luffy, wh— are you jealous of Chopper?" You came with a conclusion that maybe, just maybe he got jealous of your constant hanging out eith Chopper.

"Hmm...is that how you name it, (Name)? If so then yes!" You plopped your hands on his chest and gave him a giggle. "You could've said so earlier, i would've spent more time with you, Lu"

ˏˋ°•*⁀➷𝙺𝚒𝚍𝚍

It was 100% your idea, you had convinced Eustass to bring company of an animal into the Victoria Punk. Not only because you had no one to talk to other than Killer or Kidd himself, but simply because it was boring out in the ship.

Lucky for you, Kidd agreed to get you one of your choice, in exchange of...things. So you decided to get a Cat of your choice, simply after declaring it's recruitment into the Kidd Pirates. You gave every ounce of your attention to it, even if it means opening the door of the bathroom when you take a shower just incase the furball could come inside and pet itself across your legs.

Well that only happened twice, what DID happen was Eustass peeking at you while taking a shower, which happened about 90% of the time. You didn't mind though.

Back to our fur friend, it bothered the cleaners of the ship on how they'd find furry hair on every furniture they clean. Kidd even complained that your shared bed was full of cat fur and that it was sticking onto his skin! But you couldn't careless.

Everytime you had a chance to sit, the cat eould latch itself into your lap, preventing you from standing up and doing business. Because standing would mean disrespectful!

Now we have an angry Eustass, whenever he wants you to be around him your excuse would always be 'But theyre on my lap' and 'im playing with them give me a while' He was getting fed up with both you and the cat itself.

So you're at the comfort place in the ship, with Kidd having a staring contest with the animal on your lap, whilst you read a book a chill. Then suddenly he spoke up, "Okay that's enough." He stood up, took the cat and placed it outside the room.

"Why'd you do that for?!"

"Oh please, you have all your attention on that animal since it stepped foot into the ship, give it a break." He scoffed.

"Or you're just jealous because i give it more attention than you?" Oh, NOW you're dead. "JEALOUS?? Why would i be jealous over a stupid furry?!" He was. He was 100% jealous.

"Okay first of all, it's not a stupid furry! And second of all, you seem pretty defensive, if you're jealous just say it."

"WHAT?! No im n—"

"—Which, you definitely are, come here you big baby. I'll give you the attention you deserve." You cutted him off, now you're gonna be in big trouble.

"And i expect the attention to be filled, get on the bed fucker." It would definitely be a longggg night.

ˏˋ°•*⁀➷𝙰𝚌𝚎

He IS the one who suggested to get a furry friend. He'd definitely be the type to adopt a puppy, and then proceed to name it one of the most basic names ever. You could see the disappointment in Marco's face when he found out he named the precious puppy 'Oreo' because it's fur was Black AND White.

He had gotten you the precious puppy as a gift for your birthday as he found out you're into having pets, and your reason? They were CUTE as hell. He had gotten you a puppy who's fur is at the brownish side.

"Hmm, what should we name him?!" "OH! OH! I know! Brownie!"..."Are you being serious, Ace?" You looked at him, praying that the name he suggested was only for sarcasm, but you were taken aback from his response. "What do you mean babe? Of course i am! It's such a perfect name for him!"

"It's... one of the most basic names I've ever heard. " You spared him a straight face, sending shivers down his spine. "Okay, okay I'll think of another name! Hm..how about Cookie?" Yeah he doesn't have naming privileges anymore.

In the end you both sticked into the name you had chosen for the puppy. Everything was going great for the first week, you buying him all the stuff he needed, the most high qualited dog food, and even his own supplies had beaten yours! With an average of spending atleast thoudands of Berries a week.

The second week hadn't been different at all, except for the fact that now that the puppy was growing, it became even more plsyful towards you. Meaning you, had soent almost all your time with it. On the other hand, your boyfriend Ace, ended up getting bitten at the hand for trying to take away it's toy that you gave.

"Babe! Do you see those eyes that's looking at me right now?! It looks like it's gonna KILL me!" Ace climbed up on a chair when he entered the house unannounced and the dog had decided to chase him for dear life.

"Come one Bae, he won't hurt you like at all! He's an angel!" You petted the dog, causing him to sit. "Yeah if it was opposite day I would've believed you! look at him, it looks like it's gonna bite my limbs of one by one!"

"Come on Ace! He won't bite you!" As soon as you reassured Ace thst nothing eould happen if he stepped down, he tried lowering his left foot down, causing the dog the fully bark at him. "SEE?!" Ace's voice was almost crying.

"Bad dog! You know he's the one who brought you to me right?! He's basically your dad! Go to your bed!" The dog whimpers then climbs it's bed.

"You know, after this i expect a full week of attention all mine! Okay?!" Ace pouts and settles himself down from the chair. You gave him a reassuring kiss, "I promise,"

©Cokou 2024, all works made by me.

[jikooklove9795]

Was going through ur last post it was amazing. I am curious though! What was *that* moment of realization to u?

To be honest I am in this jikook shit for years now and feel very refreshed and happy when I see more and more people share and celebrate their relationship

Lots of love❤️❤️

Hi Sweetheart! Thanks so much for your kind words.

The first ever video I watched of BTS was their Dynamite MV. In 2020. I loved it! Everything. The beats, the choreography, their outfits, their voices, their sync. Everything! I started watching everything related to Dynamite. And that's how I stumbled upon the behinds of their MV. I loved how loud and fun the members were. How enthusiastic they seemed about their job.

By this time I was able to tell which members were which. It took me almost a week 😅 It was my first time watching anything Korean. So, I kept getting confused about who was who. However, Namjoon was easy to spot. Maybe it was his blue hair at that time. But by the end of a week I could comfortably identify all of them and got their names correct too.

While I was watching a behinds video of Dynamite I chanced upon this video here. And what struck me was the way Jungkook kept staring at Jimin. He was so into the staring that I doubt he heard anything what was being said until Taehyung had to tap him to get his attention. Not only that but I also noticed that Jimin felt Jungkook's stares on him and was trying not to look at him directly but still looked like he enjoyed the attention.

I got intrigued by what I saw and tried to dig into it to see if it was just a one time thing or if there was more to it. I watched a few Jikook videos on YT. And sure there seemed to be something but I realized all the members are touchy feely and super close with each other. But still the way Jungkook kept looking at Jimin in the above video was something else. It cannot be explained away with normal skin ship, affection or friendship. So, I decided to watch original content instead of compilation videos cause then I can get the proper context.

I saw all the big, loud Jikook moments: RB, GCFT, GCFS, MMA 2018. But what made me realize that Jikook are different, that they're a couple was when I started watching og content in chronological order. Starting from the pre debut days. I could see their story slowly unfolding.

Them being best friends and being fond of each other. Jungkook going up to seek Jimin's advice regarding him wanting to pursue a career in dance. We need to remember that Jimin was the last member to get in the team and Jikook knew each other for just 6 months at this time. But Jungkook still felt comfortable going upto Jimin for that talk and nobody else.

Both of them having a soft spot for each other. Jimin being loud and open about his fondness for Jungkook. But for me the more telling was Jungkook's behavior. Jungkook's constant teasing of Jimin (this is something I have seen a lot of teens do when they have a crush, want to get the other's attention but still not ready to admit that there is a romantic interest). Seeking him out, wanting to be next to him, wanting his affection and attention. All of it.

I could see the realization of feelings, the acting on it. By this time in almost every video, let it be backstage or even award shows Jikook were glued at the hip. They were constantly together all the time by their voluntary choice. Jungkook started openly enjoying Jimin's affection, he became more daring and outgoing in seeking out Jimin. He started enjoying his effect on Jimin. And was always coming up with ways to get more of that reaction out of Jimin.

There were grand gestures, most of it from Jungkook. Sometimes it's impulsive but most of the times its because he wants to show Jimin openly how much he's in love and cares for Jimin. He wanted everyone including us, fans to know that he sees and treats Jimin differently.

There's the living together theories (if I'm being honest its not a theory to me cause there's so much evidence pointing to it). Since we are talking about living together how can we not talk about sharing rooms in hotels. They're the only ones doing it. None of the other members are sharing rooms unless its decided by games that they have to share. The others are more than happy to have their own space.

By 2020 they gave an established, secure in their relationship vibes.

So, yeah for me it was all the og content when watched in that order which cemented my belief that they're a couple. A long term one at that. Who cherish what they found unexpectedly when they came to Seoul for their careers.

Once again thank you so much for sending this in 😊

Lots of love to you too ❤

[penguwastaken]

Nobody Understands Mukuro Ikusaba (aka Mukuro Character Analysis)

...except for the people that do (lol).

But first I want to clarify what I mean by this title and why I even wrote this thread in the first place. Mukuro is my second favorite Danganronpa character, only beaten out by Kyoko. There's a lot of reasons why I really like Mukuro, but one of them is her writing.

I think she's one of the best written characters in the series. But unfortunately, she also happens to be one of the most misunderstood characters as well. Not even by the people who don't like her, but also by her own fans.

"Mukuro has incestuous feelings for Junko" "Danganronpa 3 retconned her character" "Mukuro was just a plot device" These are all claims that baffle me because simply just consuming the media will say otherwise.

To many, Mukuro is either a one note incest freak or a pure innocent cinnamon roll who did nothing wrong and both of those interpretations are wildly incorrect. I've been meaning to write this post for a while, but we're finally here.

Nobody understands Mukuro Ikusaba (a ""🧵"") (Spoiler warning for the entire series)

Story Overview

We don't actually know too much about Mukuro's backstory aside from the fact that at a young age, she was separated from her younger twin sister Junko. Before being taken away, she claims that she was homeless and after she was taken she was forced to become a member of the military group Fenrir.

So clearly Mukuro never really had the chance to have a normal life, and more importantly: never had a chance to feel the care of another person.

Her sister, who Mukuro had not seen in years, suddenly got in contact with her and called Mukuro over to participate in her plan to overthrow Hope's Peak Academy (and the world). Mukuro, who already felt bad for losing her sister and was desperate for any kind of affection, accepted and began working for Junko.

Junko took advantage of Mukuro's desperation and had her basically work as a servant to her plans. She started by having Mukuro wipe out the entirety of a middle school in order to prove Mukuro's skills and how far Mukuro would go for her.

With that out of her way, Junko made Mukuro obey like her servant in order to overthrow Hope's Peak and cause the tragedy. Mukuro did so without batting an eye and disregarding any second thoughts she might have had, all while facing Junko's abuse.

During her time attending Hope's Peak, Mukuro met Makoto Naegi. Unlike most of her classmates, Makoto was friendly to her and showed her compassion. This confused her as we already established that Mukuro wasn't used to affection. Because of this and her tendency to latch onto anyone who shows her even an ounce of care, she began to develop feelings for Makoto (that even Junko acknowledged).

"In the past two years, Ikusaba had gained an interest in the world beyond her sister. And in that world, Makoto Naegi--the first person who smiled at her and bridged the gap between her and the world--had become like a sapling of sincerity taking root in her heart." -Danganronpa IF confirming Mukuro's feelings for Makoto

"Upupupu… I wonder what kind of fun you were having in the infirmary? Did you take care of your rival in love, or did you wish them a happy marriage? Either way, don't you think our nice guy Naegi standing side-by-side with Kirigiri makes for a wonderful picture? If this were a thriller, they'd be the last surviving couple!" "Upupupupu… Or how about just killing all of the others? If everyone but you and Naegi die, then the two of you can spend the rest of your student lives together! After all, we can't even hold a trial if there's only two people left. Maybe it'll be best if you just hole up here, safe in the building forever!" "And what're you going to do once he goes back to his old self? It's not as if you were dating Naegi, right? You were just watching him from afar all this time! Now this is a shock. You can shoot right through people's heads and hearts without even blinking, but you can't even steal away some skinny little boy's heart! You want me to tell you who Naegi had a crush on before his memories were erased? Upupupupu…" -Junko teasing Mukuro about her feelings as she aids Makoto in Danganronpa IF

Once the tragedy occured, Mukuro was locked inside of Hope's Peak with Junko and the rest of their classmates and she helped orchestrate the killing game. She disguised herself as Junko, under the impression that Junko would fake her death and they could spend the rest of the game together.

This is when the seeds of doubt began to sprout inside of Mukuro. I wouldn't say that she necessarily began to go against her sister, but she definitely was starting to get a little more hesitant.

"It was only recently that she began to question her mindset. Hearing about this plan from Junko and watching the world burn at the hands of people in Monobear masks did nothing to sway her, but when she heard that Junko was intending to plunge Naegi and the others into a game of murder, something within her began to move. The seed of doubt soon took root, sprouting into a thorny vine that twisted around her feet. And the moment she met her friends for the first time under the identity of Junko Enoshima and realized their memories were truly gone, the vines quickly tightened around her ankles." -Danganronpa IF describing Mukuro's feelings when the killing game began

To Makoto and the player who are under the impression that this is Junko, they assume that she's referring to not wanting to be a model anymore. But given her backstory of never being able to live a normal life and always having to fend for herself or follow the orders of others, we can infer what she actually means. She expresses disappointment in the fact that she never really had a chance to do what she wanted.

This all culminates in the moment where Junko was supposed to fake the death of Mukuro, but that isn't what happened. Instead, Junko killed Mukuro and betrayed her. To say that Junko felt no remorse from this action would be a lie, however. Junko only did this because she knew it would hurt both of them.

...but what if that wasn't what happened? What if Mukuro wasn't killed? What would happen then? That brings us to:

Danganronpa IF

Danganronpa IF answers the hypothetical question of what if Mukuro survived Junko's attack. Of course this means it isn't canon, but due to Kodaka being involved with its creation and its existence as an event that hypothetically could have happened, it is canon compliant. This means that while the events didn't happen in canon, they could have and things like characterization are all accurate. Think of it like an extended free time event. While the events themselves aren't canon, the things they say and imply are. I'll also be referencing Danganronpa IF a lot because since it's told from Mukuro's perspective, it gives a lot of insight on her thought process.

After regaining his memories, Makoto recognizes and rescues Mukuro seconds before her would-be death and he gets impaled by one of the spears. Mukuro rushes to save him, abandoning her disguise and goal.

During this time, Mukuro does a lot of thinking. Why did Junko try to kill her? For all the time they've been working together, Mukuro always assumed that her job was to prop Junko up and help her achieve despair.

It turns out that Junko didn't want Mukuro to obey Junko's every order, Junko wanted Mukuro to retaliate. She didn't want Mukuro to submit to her, but instead to fight back.

With this Mukuro changes her mind, choosing to fight Junko instead of assisting her. Not because she's on the side of hope, she never cared about hope or despair, but because she only wants what's best for the only person in her life who cared for her.

"'That's why… I'll take responsibility. I'll make you happy, Junko . I'll make youdespair. I'll save Naegi-kun… I'll make sure none of our friends die. I'll get them all out of here. And I'll kill every last one of the ones on the outside. You planned this for years and killed so many people to make this work… so I'll destroy every last trace of it.' She was not driven by resentment at the sister who abandoned her. Ikusaba would do all this for her sister's sake." -Mukuro changing her approach to making Junko happy in Danganronpa IF

Who is Mukuro Ikusaba?

Now this is the part where I finally exit the synopsis phase and finally get into the character analysis, explaining why Mukuro acts the way she does in all entries.

Now, I want to begin with a common critique of Mukuro's character, specifically one that's attributed to Danganronpa 3. The one that says that Mukuro's behavior is not only out of character, but also claims that she has romantic feelings for her sister.

First point out of the way, Mukuro's blushy and flustered attitude is nothing new when it comes to her character. It's been an aspect of her since the very beginning of her characterization.

"'I don’t know if… she attracts despair, or despair attracts her, but… she’s lived her whole life with despair by her side. She lived while immersed in despair. That’s why she began looking for despair in others; she began to enjoy pushing people into despair. But you know… that’s normal. It’s no different than someone cursed by misfortune falling into hatred for those who are better off than them. But what’s special about her was that… she learned to enjoy inflicting despair upon herself. That’s how the link to despair began: as she chased down despair, she pushed it onto others along the way. Doing so caused her to crave falling into despair even more… and because of that chain to despair, the Ultimate Despair was born.' While she spoke, it was like she fell into a fever; the expressions on her face slowly turned into ecstasy. It was so completely absurd that it would have been difficult for anybody to think of it as anything but a joke, but I could tell that this was real. It might have been the hazy memories of Junko Enoshima inside me that led to that conclusion. 'You don’t get it right? That’s fair, I don’t think anybody could… But you know, only I can understand it…' Consumed by ecstasy, even Ikusaba’s breathing had begun to turn ragged." -Mukuro describing Junko in Danganronpa Zero

The second (and more important) point to address is the one that Mukuro holds some kind of romantic feelings for her sister. Now, in all honestly, I can't hold this against anyone for thinking this even if I think it's a wild misinterpretation of her behavior. Danganronpa has a track record of using incest for comedic effect (to always poor results). However, Mukuro's relationship with Junko is not used to comedic effect and it's portrayed in a negative light. Not only that, we know that Mukuro does not enjoy behaving that way.

"'She hoped that, perhaps her sister on the screen would say something like 'Not! You seriously thought I'd say something that sappy? Jeez, you're annoying! Can't you just disappear forever or something?'. She hoped that Junko might criticizeher and call her useless. Ikusaba was no masochist, but she would have preferred to hear scornful laughter and be shot at rather than continue to endure this pain." -Danganronpa IF explaining Mukuro's "masochism"

Mukuro doesn't behave the way she does because she has feelings for Junko, she does so because she believes that's how Junko wants her to behave. Danganronpa Zero and IF makes it clear that Mukuro was wrong about how Junko wanted her to behave.

“'You don’t get it right? That’s fair, I don’t think anybody could… But you know, only I can understand it…' Consumed by ecstasy, even Ikusaba’s breathing had begun to turn ragged. 'Only I’m able to understand her… That’s why she needs me. She still hasn’t realized it, but… maybe she’s only pretending not to. Ufu… It’s because she’s so shy. Ufufufu…'” -Mukuro explaining that Junko needs her in Danganronpa Zero

"Ikusaba knew that not even she herself was her own ally. After all, despite the fact that Junko had betrayed her and very nearly killed her, Ikusaba still believed that she was the only one who could understand her little sister. And that was why she felt that she had to protect her. That's right… you were just being you, Junko. You just wanted despair, right? It's because you love me. You wanted to kill me and fall into despair. That must have been it" -Mukuro in denial in Danganronpa IF

"Ikusaba believed that she alone could understand the despair known as Junko Enoshima. It was a ludicrous notion. The moment Junko said, 'I love you', Ikusaba realized--to her agony--that she never truly understood her sister. Only now had she come to realize Junko's feelings." -Mukuro realizing that she didn't understand Junko in Danganronpa IF

Because of Mukuro's incorrect interpretation of understanding Junko, Mukuro believes that Junko expects her to respond to her abuse with acceptance and masochism. Even if she was uncomfortable to, as long as it made Junko happy, that's what mattered. Of course, we learn that Junko wanted Mukuro to respond her abuse with retaliation, and as soon as Mukuro realizes that her behavior immediately shifts. Mukuro holds a great deal of admiration for Junko, so much so that she only wants to do what would please Junko the most.

She does not have romantic feelings for her sister and to say so misses the point entirely. She isn't behaving that way because she's a masochist, she behaves that way because she believes it's how she's expected to, even if she's visibly uncomfortable. Once she learns this isn't what's expected, she immediately changes course.

Danganronpa 3 also has official relationship charts that depict the relationship between characters. In this chart, crushes or explicitly shown romantic feelings are labeled with a heart (as seen with Kazuichi's attraction to Sonia or Toko's attraction to Byakuya). Mukuro's relationship does NOT feature this heart. You would think that if Mukuro's very obvious admiration towards Junko was romantic it would have a heart, but it doesn't because it isn't. If what I said before didn't convince you, I think this itself is proof enough.

Mukuro's admiration doesn't extend to just Junko though. Due to her unfortunate upbringing, Mukuro has a tendency to get attached to anyone who shows her the affection she's desperate for. So much so that her behavior changes completely around the people she cares about.

"The mass of monochrome spun round and round, making it look as though they were projecting a hypnotic image from three directions, but Ikusaba remained expressionless. In fact, the bizarre sight unfolding before her compelled the Super High School Level Soldier to regain her focus. She was an entirely different person from the girl who had panicked at Naegi's injury in the gymnasium." -Mukuro while fighting in Danganronpa IF, behaving completely differently from when she panicked over Makoto's injury

"Not only that, if anyone who knew her as the Super High School Level Soldier and mercenary were to see her now, the difference in her attitude might even make her look like another person altogether. And Monobear continued to drive the girl into a corner." -Mukuro panicking over Makoto's injury in Danganronpa IF

"The mask of ice she wore around others was entirely unlike the face she showed her sister, making it almost seem as though she had multiple personalities." -Danganronpa IF explaining that Mukuro's behavior around Junko is different from her typical icey expression

This is why around most people, Mukuro has a pretty blank expression. However when she's around Makoto or Junko, the two people who she cares about, she displays a much more soft and emotional side.

That being said, an often overlooked aspect of Mukuro is that she actually has a slight ego and is proud of her skill. This is especially obvious in her fight with Peko in Danganronpa 3. Of course, if I spent years in the military without getting a single scratch, I'd probably have an ego too.

Mukuro is also capable of turning off her feelings and going into a "killing machine mode" whenever the situation demands it, mostly when she's carrying out some mission. It's not because she doesn't feel bad for what she's doing or isn't having any second thoughts, it's that she pushes any doubts to the side to focus on getting the job done.

"In battlefields, where she made her home, her main mission was to kill and survive. And in that setting Ikusaba was invincible. She could put her own emotions on a leash in order to become a killing machine." -Danganronpa IF explaining how Mukuro is capable of ignoring her own feelings

"With a single whisper that was drowned out by the sound of gunfire, Ikusaba went completely silent. Thanks to her status as a member of Super High School Level Despair, her heart was filling with joy. And as if to offset the sudden surge of emotions, the sparkle in her eyes disappeared." -Mukuro turning her emotions off while fighting in Danganronpa IF

So Basically...

Due to her upbringing Mukuro is someone who gets attached to people easily, particularly those who give her attention. Junko took advantage of this to make Mukuro essentially act as her servant. Believing that Junko expected her to return the abuse she faced with enjoyment, she forced herself to do just that. Even if it made her uncomfortable, making her sister happy at her own expense is better than being alone. She's capable of turning off and ignoring her emotions to following orders when necessary and is generally a proud and skilled soldier, though she has a softer side that she only shows to people who she cares for.

That is who Mukuro Ikusaba is.

Conclusion

There's a lot of reasons I really like Mukuro. I think she's silly and cute and I like her singing voice. But I also think her characterization is really good in all of her appearances. I think a lot of the critiques made towards her (especially towards her appearance in Danganronpa 3) are misguided or just a result of her being misunderstood.

She's not a plot device or a character exclusively there to act as an extension of Junko. She's filled to the brim with character depth and interesting writing and has plenty of characterization on her own. I'll admit that her presence in Danganronpa: Trigger Happy Havoc is a bit limited, however she doesn't just become an important character in four other entries without getting some kind of development.

Many think her characterization is inconsistent or different across entries, but I honestly think it couldn't be any MORE consistent. The only times where I'd say she acts out of character is in the comic anthologies, but those are non-canon media that's kinda known for flanderizing characters for the sake of comedy.

Basically, I like Mukuro. I hope I managed to change some minds or shed a new light on her to anyone who didn't before. And if you already liked her, I hope maybe I could make you appreciate her a bit more or just help you explain her in some way.

anyways follow me on twitter cough cough

Also special thanks to Twitter user @LKSixtyfour for their tweets about Mukuro's characterization, many helped me organize my thoughts to form the thread that you just read.

Edit: didn't make any changes to the post, just fixed some typos

[writingoddess1125]

Bless you for your perfect Mihawk writing, I am dying <3 if you're still taking requests, may I please request some angst with lots of fluff? Mihawk gets word that his wife was badly injured on a mission, she almost dies, but she's strong so she survives with a deep battle wound? Soft Mihawk gives me life ;-;

I gotcha My Dear!

⚠️ Warning: ⚠️ Mention of Death, Disfigurement

Angst and some fluff

My Heart Lies with You

Ah the Dracule Couple- The best power couple of the ages by most people's standards. Mihawk who was the best swordsmen and you his wife the best stealth killers there was, a couple to be taken incredibly seriously. While you were no Warlord you were the wife of one so got the same privileges as your Husband. Paired with your skill it was a bonus for the world goverment to have you on their side.

It had been a normal mission like all the rest, you two rarely got mission together after getting caught being a little too friendly with each other on a assassination mission. So you went off 4 days ago to do a intel and assassination while Mihawk was sent to cause havoc and destroy a pirate base.

Mihawk was currently mid battle, ripping apart the base with his sword and fighting the worthless goons with ease. He heard the transponder snail go off in his ear and he sighed as he answered.

"I'm a little busy here Garp-" He says in a nonchalant way, cutting down several more people as the base behind him exploded.

"Hawkeye, you need to get here as quickly as possible-" Garp said I'm a rather sharp tone that wasn't fitting of the Vice- Admiral.

Mihawk felt a peg of annoyance go through his body at hearing such a tone from the man- Something was wrong very wrong..

"Fine.. I'll be there with the tide" Mihawk said disconnecting the call, sighing as he decided to stop having fun and get this over with so he could meet with the Garp.

The following morning Garp sat at his desk, nervously tapping his finger on the desk knowing this was not going to be pleasant. He heard the heavy footsteps of the Warlords and pulled out the whiskey, knowing it would be needed. Mihawk walked in, Stepping forward with a deep frown as he watched Garp pour the whiskey.

"You called me here Garp?" Mihawk asked with his normal stoic tone, The Vice-Admiral nodded and held out the whiskey to Mihawk who took it and took a hefty sip.

"Hawkeye- (Y/N) is MIA, there was a surprisingly large battle during her stealth mission and after she informed us she was injured transmission cut and we lost her" Garp said evenly, his eyes trained on Mihawk whose whole body seemed to lock up. The Warlord setting down the glass of whiskey quickly as his mind focused on one thing- his wife.

"Where was her mission?" He demanded, His breathing seeming shallow and unsheathed rage behind his eyes as Garp drank his glass of whiskey.

"Just off Summer Island, a boat has already been prepared to take you within the next hour" Garp said calmly, however Mihawk was already out the door at hearing this. His heart beating in his ears as he heard of this- His wife MIA after being injured.. scared him? He wasn't used to feeling scared like this- You were so skilled and careful, a perfect stealth killer as well as a Pirate he saw equal to himself.

As promised, within the hour Mihawk was sailing to Summer Island. The Marines with him scared as he looked like a pacing tiger, Walking up and down the main docks as his eyes locked onto the direction of his destination. By nightfall they had arrived, seeing a search party was already there. Never having been so greatful that Garp had let their mission be semi close to each other (usually a 2 day boat ride to one another max).

Mihawk looked around at the clear battle that had taken place on the island, anger bubbling in his chest as his mind racing with all the possibilities. He saw the search party still moving through the clearing. They wouldn't find her unless she wanted to be found- she was too good.

Stepping forward he cupped his hand over his lips and gave out two loud whistles sounding like a birds call, he held up a hand to the research party to stop which they did. The forest falling silent for a few moments, Mihawk closing his eyes to focus... after a moment or two a weakened call returned. Mihawk feet moving faster then his brain as he followed the bird call.

The search party backed away as Mihawk trudged forward repeating the bird call again following its echoed call.

Finally he made it to a large pile of fallen trees still scorched from what seemed to he a fire. Without care he began to throw off the glowing logs like they weighed nothing, finally seeing your arm wriggling under a large log he tossed it with all of his strength and fell to his knees quickly.

"I got you My Heart.. I got you" He said softly, his arm sliding under you and he felt the dampness from blood as he slowly lifted you into his arms. You managed to open an eye to see your husband, the taste of ash and dirt on your lips as you tried to give him a soft smile.

"D-Dont look so sa.." You croaked out, but the pain keep you from finishing your words. Mihawk pulling you closer to him and holding your face in his hand, his thumb pushing the dried blood and dirt from your face. Panic filling his features and- he froze. Fear filling his whole body that practically immobilized him-

"Medics Now!" Mihawk ordered loudly, a rush of Marine medics rushing forward to exact you and take you to the boat for attention. The Warlord finally seeing the large open wound on your chest which made his stomach churn- it went from your naval up to the left of your body shredding your skin across your left breast and past your shoulder. If it hadn't been for the grace of whatever Gods were out there or the dirt packed into the wound you would have died for sure.

Mihawk felt his body go cold- watching as the Marines take his wife. At first frozen in his spot before he quickly followed behind quickly, he was silent as they loaded you onto the boat. The medics quick to take you to the infirmary of the ship to provide emergency treatment- Mihawk standing in your room as he watched with unwaving eyes as they gave you oxygen and more to keep you breathing.

As fast as the boat could move it landed on a near by Marine Base to get you into its established hospital. The nurses and medical staff taking you as top priority as they got you into a proper room, Garp meeting Mihawk there as he saw them loading you into a room.

Once several machines were placed on you the loud sirens of the heart monitor sounded which shattered Mihawk- Hearing your heart jump in shock of whatever they were doing before it suddently stopped and flattened. He shoved past the doctors at this and grabbed your hand feeling it turn cold before a doctor could yank him off.

"Code Blue Code Blue we have lost the heart beat" a nurse announced, Another young nurse pushing Mihawk out of the room fully as they began emergency treatment for you. Mihawk had tried to resist at first ready to mow down the nurses but Garp pulled him back into the hallway before he could.

"They have to keep you out to give her the best treatment Hawkeye-" He tried to reason with the Warlord who looked ready to rip Garp apart, but he nodded silently as the older man lead him to a bench to sit down. Hours passed and Mihawk heard nothing... his nerves shot as he sat there trying to mentally figure out what to do- You could take die.. he would be lost if you did.. he mentally couldn't not comprehend the idea.. His face found his hands as he sat there letting his own imagination get the absolute worse of him.

"Mr. Dracule sir?.." The old doctor said softly, pulling the man from his hands as he looked up at the man. His eyes red from either stress or crying- no one was going to ask which, Mihawk stood up fully staring at the doctor.

"So we have your wife stable and alive, she will be making a recovery. While we are unsure of the damage done from the blood loss I can say she is very fortunate" Mihawk gave a sigh in relief, like he could finally take a breath for the first time.

"However there was some... damage due to the injuries" The doctor spoke gently, Mihawks relief was short lived as the doctor went into detail over your injuries. It seemed whatever had caused your injury had shredded the left side of your chest- due to the extent of the injuries they had to give a mastectomy to your left breast as well as remove lots of skin from around the whole wound that could have caused infections heaving what was going to be one hell of a scar.

His heart sank to his stomach at hearing this, but nodded in understanding. Greatful you were just alive. The doctor lead him inside still trying to brace him to see you.

When he saw you- he crumbled.. his heart shattered into tiny peices as he saw you. You were swollen and pale, the machine beeping loudly and monitoring every rise and fall of your chest which was shallow. He shuffled over to the little plastic seat next to your bed and sat there, he looked lost. Like the idea of you like this had never crossed his mind and he couldn't handle it now- he stared at the doctor, pity in the older man's eyes as he saw the devastated Warlord.

"How long will she be like this?.." Mihawk finally said. The doctor swallowing thickly and shook his head.

"Now that is something I can't tell you..." He said, before leaving the room to let Mihawk be with you. The Warlord reaching forward and touching your face softly, his hands shaking as he stared at the cuts and bruises on your face. Pulling away finally as he sat by your side, caressing your free hand carefully.

Hours turned to days.. days turned to weeks and after a month Mihawk had still not left your side, others even trying to convince the man to at least get fresh air but he refused. Unmoving and too stubborn to leave you alone as you recovered in your coma. Till one day-

You opened your eyes, you felt truly awful- your eyes burning at the harsh light. You blinked several times as your eyes adjusted and saw you were in a hospital, the beeping of machines around you finally took notice of them- flowers. So many flowers of every color and stage of wilting were scattered in the room like someone had set them in whatever space was available. A heavy feeling on your chest and hand caught your attention. Lifting your head slightly you could feel heavy gauze around your chest that made it hard to breath- however you assumed the pain medicine thay was for sure in your IV was keeping you from feeling whatever was happening there. However your gaze went to your side to the pressure on your hand, your gaze softening at the sight.

There was you husband, he looked as bad as you felt. His hair was a mess on his head and clearly hadnt been washed in some time, a deep stubble was blending in with his natural facial hair making him look like he was growing a full rugged beard instead of his usual clean look and even though he was passed out with his face pressed into your hand like a puppy waiting for its owner the insane bags under his closed eyes clued you in that he had been exhausted in waiting for you.

Carefully you reach around with your free hand and touch his hair, despite it being a greasy mess you stroke his hair softly. After a few moments of messing with his hair Mihawk head shoots up, his bright yellow eyes as wide as saucers as he stared at you.

"(Y/N).." He breathed out and his cupped your cheek quickly, you can see his eyes watering at seeing you awake. He stood up to place a kiss on your forehead, feeling a tear fall onto your cheek realizing it was from your husband. He pressed the call nurse button quickly.

"They need to check you first okay?..." Mihawk said, almost like he was convincing himself just as much as you. Soon a flood of nurses came in, giving every checkup and look around possible. If you weren't sure before that your situation had been bad then you knew by the end.

It had been a few days since you woke up from the hospital. To say it had been a roller coaster was a understatement, your husband had taken control of your care and recovery almost possessivly. Then his colleges and friends of the past visited the both of you- Even catching who had been assisting in bringing in flowers for you.

From Vice Admiral Garp who brought in a large strawberry cake and some adorable white flowers, Zoro with lovely blue hydrangeas, Perona bring in every type of rose imaginable, Shanks with whatever he could find and even Buggy who would shyly bring sunflowers and leave before getting the ire of Mihawk if the clown tried any stupid jokes.

It took Shanks and Zoro to convince Mihawk to finally go shower and change clothes agreeing to watch over you while he did so. You never did tell him he smelt like ripe ass sitting next to you.

Upon returning in fresh clothes that Perona had brought back you smiled.

"There is my handsome husband" You said with a grin, he smirked at this and took his seat next to you. Shanks and Zoro also glad to see at least most of Mihawk back to his former self- you reaches forward and touched the full beard that graced his features and giggled.

"I never knew you could grow a beard like this" You chimed, he rolled his eyes at your words and gently took your hand from his beard and held it instead.

"Don't get uses to it- once back home I'm shaving" You see Shanks and Zoro smirk at this, Clearly finding it amusing.

You look at the two of them and smile.

"Guys, could you get us something to eat?.. and some tea?" You ask sweetly, Zoro looked confused over this clearly about to question why not call the nurses button bit Shanks got it and patted Zoro shoulder. "Come with me" He said calmly as he lead the green haired man out the room and closing the door behind them. There was a few moments of silence, your hand finding its way to your own gauzed up chest.

"They told you?... right?" You asked softly, wanting to know of he knew about the amputation and the heavy scars on your body. He nodded calmly. You winced at this, feeling... ashamed at this and uncomforble, Giving a forced chuckle-

"Well... no more bikini seasons for me.." You try to make light, even if your bottom lip quivered. Touching that spot on your chest again. Mihawks eyes hardened at this and he gently pulled your hand from your chest and held it tightly. He knew what you were insinuating and it broke his heart all over again.

"(Y/N).. never say that- You are beautiful in every way imaginable. No matter what has been added or taken away... you're beautiful cause.. just cause your here with me" He admitted, staring at you. You felt your eyes grow warm with fresh tears at such thoughtful words.

"Honey.." You whisper softly, giving his hand a gentle tug to come closer to you which he obediently did and kissed you on the lips which you savored. Tears running down your cheeks at his sweet words-

"I love you Mihawk" You whisper softly again his lips, he pulled back ever so slightly and smiled.

"I love you too My Heart"

[awkwardauthorwrites]

Wildest Dreams - Part One

Word Count: 6.6k

Themes: fluff, pining

Summary: Ten years have passed since the events of Hogwarts Legacy and Y/N is invited back as part of a reunion to celebrate. 

Warnings: Potential spoilers for HL. All characters are aged up and around 25/26 years old

Dear Miss Y/L/N,

You are cordially invited to the ten year reunion of the events that marked you as the Hero of Hogwarts. We look forward to your attendance as our guest of honour, please RSVP at your earliest convenience. 

Y/N grimaced at the letter she had read time and time again, sorely regretting that she had allowed Poppy to talk her into attending. While it would be nice to see her classmates again, she wished it was under different circumstances - it didn’t matter how much time would pass since she defeated Ranrok and saved the school, she didn’t want to celebrate something that had taken such a significant piece from her that she could never get back.

She didn’t regret protecting Hogwarts, and inadvertently the rest of the world, but sometimes she did wish things had gone differently. Hogwarts had been her first real home and sometimes, in the middle of the night when she was alone with her thoughts, she just wished she had been able to attend as a normal student. From eleven like a regular first year with no ancient magic or goblins bent on wizard destruction. She still had people come up to her to thank her for her deeds and she hated it every time. She hated the handshakes, the tears, the praises they sang to her as they put her on a pedestal as if she were a Saint, as opposed to the terrified child she had been. She knew, of course, that they all meant well but Y/N couldn’t stand the constant daytime reminders of everything that caused her sleepless nights. 

“Are you excited?” Poppy asked from beside her, her voice soft as she broke Y/N from her thoughts. 

“That’s one word for it,” she muttered, stuffing the parchment back into her pocket. Despite her sour thoughts Y/N was excited for the reunion. Reminder of the worst time of her life aside, she was looking forward to seeing her classmates again, to catch up with them all and see what had become of their lives.

“I heard Imelda managed to get the night off from training with the Holyhead Harpies,” Poppy continued. “It’ll be nice to see her properly this time.”

“Without a dragon in between us, you mean?” Y/N smiled wryly at the memory. She didn’t think Imelda would ever forgive her for ruining one of the bigger matches of her career, but apparently saving a couple of dragon eggs from a group of poachers and returning them to their mother would do the trick.

“Yes, well, she did request we leave the dragon behind this time,” Poppy laughed as they made their way down the cobbled street. They dodged a few shoppers as they walked through Hogsmeade and expertly avoided the throngs of students who seemed to be everywhere but in class, considering it was the middle of the day.

“Sorry.” A tall, dark haired wizard walked by them, accidentally bumping into Y/N. He barely spared the pair a glance as he continued on, hands stuffed into his pockets.

“Sebastian?” his name fell from Y/N’s mouth before she could process it, and they both watched as he came to a stop and turned to face them. “Sebastian!” She shot forward, narrowly avoiding a student, and launched herself at him once she was close enough, her arms wrapping around his shoulders to pull him into a tight hug.

“Was that…?” Poppy trailed off, an unsure expression crossing her face as she watched the man walk away from them.

“Oof,” Sebastian had only just recognised the figure barrelling towards him before her body hit him. He took a step back to steady them and make sure they weren’t going to fall over before he wrapped his arms around her waist firmly. “Y/N, give a man a chance, will you?” he laughed, squeezing her affectionately.

“ShutupImissedyouyouidiot.” Her words were unintelligible as she mumbled into the crook of his neck, although he could feel her smile against his skin. His grip tightened in response, lifting her off her feet as he embraced her. 

“I missed you, too, sweetheart.”

“Sweetheart?” Y/N pulled back fractionally and narrowed her eyes at him playfully. “I see you’re still the charmer you were back in school.”

“Only for those I hold in the highest esteem.” He grinned down at her and finally loosened his clutch. “Hello Poppy.”

“Hello, Sebastian,” Poppy had a sly smile on her face as she watched the pair ease their hold on each other but made no move to let go. “How’ve you been?”

“Great, although I hear you’re both doing better than me,” he glanced back down at the woman in his arms. “Did you really take down Ratcliffe, one of the biggest poachers in the country? You just can’t stay away from trouble, can you?”

“Trouble can’t stay away from me, you mean. Nothing changes,” Y/N offered him a teasing grin, finally (and reluctantly) pulling herself from his arms. 

“Some things clearly do,” he murmured, eyes roaming down her figure. Although they occasionally sent owls to each other, it had been years since the pair’s last meeting. The lanky limbs and awkward persona from the girl he knew before was long gone, only to be replaced by soft curves and a gracefulness he couldn’t quite explain. “Look at you, all grown up.” And rather gorgeous, he noted. He grinned as she nudged him playfully, but was delighted to see a faint blush on her cheeks. 

“I’m not the only one who’s done some growing.” He had always been a couple of inches taller than her, but now her head just about came up to his shoulders. Rather broad ones, Y/N thought to herself, which paired nicely with the muscles she could see despite the jacket he was wearing.

“Shall I leave you two alone and come back later?” Poppy asked, breaking the pair from their trances. It was now Sebastian’s turn to flush as he looked down at the former Hufflepuff, who had also grown into a beautiful young woman even though he still towered over her.

“Come here, Sweeting,” Sebastian rolled his eyes at her, tugging her into a hug as well. Poppy laughed and patted his back before extracting herself from his hold. “What are you both doing here? Are you here for the reunion as well?”

“We are,” Poppy nodded. “We thought it would be nice to get here early and check in on the shop. Maybe take a walk around as well.”

“You have a shop?”

“We do,” Y/N nodded. “We bought the Brood and Peck a couple of years ago. All the beasts we save - magical or not - go there. Ellie Peck still does most of the management and finds them all good homes.”

“I thought it looked bigger,” Sebastian looked impressed, “did I see a shop in Diagon Alley too?” His smile widened as both Poppy and Y/N nodded bashfully. “Who would have thought, Poppy Sweeting and Y/N Y/L/N, a beast’s best dream and a poachers worst nightmare.”

“It was mostly Y/N’s idea, she couldn’t bear to release the creatures just for poachers to grab them again.”

“Stop it, Poppy. You know I wouldn’t have been able to do any of this without you.” Y/N’s face flushed at the praise and she turned back to Sebastian as her friend started to protest. “Please tell me you’re going tonight. I’m going to need all the friendly faces I can get.”

“Well now that I know you’ll be there, how could I say no? Should we make our way together?”

“We could, but I should probably warn you that we’re getting there ridiculously early. It seems I have the absolute pleasure of opening the doors to welcome everyone inside.”

“Ah yes, how could I forget I’m standing with our honorary guest?” 

“Don’t start.” Y/N was smiling, but it didn’t quite reach her eyes and he caught a flicker of emotion passing across her face before she could hide it. He remembered how much she had disliked the attention for saving the school in their sixth and seventh year, and even though a decade had passed since then it didn’t seem like that had changed much. “Where are you staying? I have a house on the outskirts of the village with more than enough room, if you want.”

“Ah, I’m over at the Three Broomsticks,” he nodded at the pub that was a couple of hundred feet from them. “I stopped by earlier for some lunch and when I told Sirona I was thinking of heading home in between to get ready she told me I had a room there if I needed and it was best not to fight her on it.” Although Sebastian rolled his eyes, the affection for the older witch was still visible in the smile on his face.

“Well, we can all meet for a drink before we go then,” Poppy suggested, looking so excited at the idea that Y/N and Sebastian didn’t have the heart to disagree with her. “Imelda and some of the others are going to be there before the reunion as well. Will Ominis be joining us?”

“No, he’s taking care of Anne. They both told me to say hello if I saw you. Anne said it’s been too long, and if I don’t bring you back for tea after all of this she will keep me away from my soon-to-be-born niece or nephew.”

“Oh, she told me she was expecting, but I’ve not had a chance to come see her yet. Are you excited to be an uncle?” Y/N grinned, her hand reaching out to squeeze Sebastian’s arm with such elation he could feel his heart flutter in his chest.

“I can’t wait to spoil them. I think Ominis has learned every child safety spell he can get his hands on,” Sebastian let out a quiet chuckle and slipped his hands in his pockets once more. “I still have a couple of errands I need to attend to for them, but I’ll see you both later at the Three Broomsticks?” The three of them made quick plans for when they were going to meet before Sebastian left them with a grin and a wave.

“That man couldn’t keep his eyes off you,” Poppy commented, nudging Y/N playfully. Y/N rolled her eyes and nudged Poppy right back, but couldn’t help to look over her shoulder at Sebastian, who was currently doing the same thing. Y/N couldn’t read his expression from this far away, but she did catch the slow smile that formed on his face and couldn’t help but to smile back, her heart thumping in her chest.

*~*~*~*~*

Y/N looked up at the Three Broomsticks, the hood of her cloak protecting her from the light rain that had started. She fiddled nervously with the lace of her dress as she waited patiently for Poppy - who had stopped to pet a cat she had seen - to catch up. She felt out of place, and not just because she was standing in front of the pub in a ball gown that was fit for a castle in one of the novels Poppy loved to read. Although, Y/N mused, she supposed she was on her way to said castle. She sighed and smoothed down the fabric of her forest green skirts, wishing she was in her usual attire of a tunic and light pants (fighting poachers while wearing a corset and heavy skirts did not go well the last time).

Y/N looked back down the street, the last of the light fading as the sun set behind the hills. At this rate she could make her escape before Poppy would even notice and she weighed the pros and cons of not attending in her head for what felt like the hundredth time. Imelda would likely hunt her down if she didn’t attend, and she didn’t particularly feel like battling the witch tonight. Sebastian would forgive her - in fact, she could even owl him to see if he wanted to scrap the whole event with her. Anne had been hounding her to come round for tea and she would much prefer to see her and Ominis than to be paraded in front of her old peers like a prized calf. With a low groan Y/N dragged her feet into the pub, deciding the least she could do while she waited for Poppy was to get warm and have a chat with Sirona. 

The Three Broomsticks hadn’t changed much since Y/N had first stepped inside all those years ago, practically glowing from defeating her first troll with Sebastian by her side. The smell of butterbeer and burning logs greeted her and a familiar warmth that had nothing to do with the fires burning in their hearths ran from her head to her toes. Sirona had added a couple of new booths over the years, as well as a particularly comfortable pair of armchairs that were placed next to one of the fireplaces.

“Do my eyes deceive me?” Sirona had a large smile on her face as she dried her hands. “Is that Y/N Y/L/N in my pub? Where’s your other half?” Y/N couldn’t help but laugh as Sirona rounded the bar and pulled her into a hug.  

“Poppy saw a cat. You know how she is,” Y/N released the older witch and let Sirona look her over as she removed her cloak.

“Well, I’d ask what kind of trouble you’ve both been in since I last saw you but…” she glanced at the still-healing scar that ran from Y/N’s eyebrow across to her temple. “Is that one waiting for you?” she gestured with her head to the man that was sitting in one of the armchairs by the fireplace, and Y/N realised that it was Sebastian. He looked to be deep in thought as he stared into the flames.

“He is,” Y/N turned back to Sirona with a smile. “Could I trouble you for three glasses of firewhiskey?”

“On the house,” Sirona winked at her and made her way back behind the bar just as Poppy walked into the pub. She waved hello at Sirona and came to stand by Y/N’s side, her gaze landing on Sebastian as well. 

“Well, he’s certainly not the same boy we went to school with,” Poppy muttered. Y/N couldn’t help but murmur back in agreement. He had been considered attractive back at school (and knew it), but now…Y/N couldn’t help but appreciate how devastatingly handsome he looked in his dress robes, the warm glow from the fire lighting his face. Sirona placed the three glasses on the table next to him, breaking him out of his thoughts, and he finally looked up with a smile as he took note of both the girls.

“There you both are, I was beginning to think you had forgotten all about me.” He stood to greet them with a smile and looked between the pair, his eyes lingering on Y/N. There was an unreadable expression on his face as his eyes roamed over her dress slowly until he finally met her gaze. He was vaguely aware that his staring was bordering on indecent when the door opened again and a large, rather loud, group walked in. Poppy looked between the pair, a small smirk on her face when she caught the matching telltale flush on their faces. She filed the thought away for later when she could get Y/N alone and turned to look at the group who had just walked in, her smile widening when she caught sight of Imelda.

“Kneazle caught your tongue?” Y/N cocked her head to the side, a teasing smile on her face.

“It’s entirely your fault for looking so ravishing tonight,” Sebastian caught her hand in his and pressed a kiss to her knuckles before handing her one of the glasses of firewhiskey. Y/N couldn’t help but laugh quietly and reach up to straighten out his tie. 

“You don’t look so bad yourself, Mr Sallow.” She gave him a coy smile as her hand lingered on his chest for longer than necessary, feeling the telltale thump thump thump of his heart. A voice calling her name from behind them broke their stares and Y/N let her fingers trail down his chest slowly as she turned to walk away. 

“Have you got nothing to say to me, then?” Imelda met Y/N halfway, eyebrows raised and arms crossed. 

“It’s good to see you again, Imedla,” Y/N pulled the girl in for a hug, who laughed in response.

“Yes, it’s much better seeing you here on the ground, instead of interrupting my match by riding a dragon. Honestly, Y/L/N, if you wanted to come see me at one of my games all you had to do was ask.”

“You rode a dragon?” Sebastian finally seemed to snap out of his stupor and took a couple of steps forward to greet his former housemate. 

“I had to get your attention somehow, didn’t I, Reyes?” Y/N shrugged her shoulders nonchalantly as Sebastian stood by her side. 

“Showing up in that dress would have worked just as well,” Imelda’s eyes roamed over her appreciatively. “Green has always looked best on you.”

“I’ll bear that in mind for next time.” Even though the wink wasn’t aimed at him Sebastian felt his mouth go dry and quickly took a sip of firewhiskey to chase away the fluttering feeling in his stomach. He lingered by Y/N’s side as they caught up with Imelda and a couple of their former school mates, his arm brushing against hers every-so-often in a way that made his face burn. Sebastian decided he would blame the firewhiskey if anyone (especially Imelda) tried to call him out on blushing like a first year every time his hand brushed past hers.

“To our saviour!” Leander Prewett called out, raising his glass in Y/N’s direction. A couple of the others followed suit, not noticing how uncomfortably still Y/N had gotten as she glanced around the room. Y/N felt her skin prickle as a few people turned to openly stare at her, expressions varying between awe and gratitude. She offered them a tense smile as Poppy shot Leander a glare and tugged his arm down, whispering harshly at him as he sipped from his glass. 

She could feel her chest tighten at the attention and willed herself not to scream at them all that she didn’t deserve their praises. That she wasn’t a saviour, she had just gotten lucky. It had taken Y/N far too many sleepless nights to come to terms with what had happened to her under the castle, and even longer to fully grasp that it wasn’t her fault that she couldn’t save everyone. Moments like these - with people muttering about how she was a hero - made her feel like a fraud.

“Hey.” Sebastian felt Y/N jump slightly as he placed a hand on her lower back gently. “Come with me?” He set their empty glasses down before leading her to the door, only stopping to grab their cloaks as he led her outside. Thestrals were tethered to a carriage a couple of feet away from the pub, the Hogwarts emblem carved onto the side - no doubt meant to take Y/N up to the castle for the event. “Are you still with me?”

“Just about,” Y/N’s eyes flicked up to meet his as he draped her cloak around her shoulders and fastened it for her. “How did you know?”

“You had that look on your face you used to get in our sixth year.”

“I didn’t realise you paid that much attention to me.”

“How could I not?” The corner of his mouth lifted up in a barely perceptible smile as he brushed a stray hair from her eyes. His fingers lingered on her jaw before gently tilting her face to his. 

“You’re a rake, Sebastian Sallow.” She narrowed her eyes at him playfully, a smile falling on her painted lips. Sebastian had the overwhelming urge to close the gap between them and kiss her but managed to restrain himself and settled for pulling her body closer to his.

“You say rake, I say dashing rogue, who’s to say which one of us is right.” Y/N laughed quietly and brought her hands up to rest on the lapels of his jacket. “Either way, I can’t help but to be charming in the presence of such a stunning woman.”

“Is that what you say to all the pretty ladies you meet?”

“Just the one.” Y/N’s fingers tightened around his jacket at his words, at the look in his eye. She wanted nothing more than to pull him into a searing kiss she had imagined more times than she could count but refrained, unsure of his reaction. “What are you thinking about?” Sebastian brushed her cheeks gently, his face inching closer to hers.

“Whether we should make our escape or not.”

“Do you not want to attend anymore?”

“I didn’t particularly want to attend to start with.”

“Do you want me to get you out of here?” He looked so concerned for her wellbeing that Y/N felt her heart crack in her chest. How long had it been since someone had taken care of her? Of course, Poppy was always around to patch her up with things that went south against the poachers but even she didn’t know how deep the internal wounds went. Or if she did, she never commented on it.

“No, not yet. I think Imelda would hunt me down and drag me back, anyway.”

“You don’t have to do anything you don’t want to, Y/N. I’ll fight Imelda myself if I have to.”

“You would fight Imelda ’The Muscles’ Reyes for me?”

“Darling, I don’t know how to make it any clearer that I will always fight anyone who tries to harm you.”

“My hero,” Y/N couldn’t help but roll her eyes, a laugh bubbling up as she took in his mock affronted expression. She leant up to press a gentle kiss to his cheek, mindful not to get any lipstick on his face. The arm around her waist tightened fractionally, holding her in place against him as he processed what had just happened. “Sebastian?”

“Hold on, I’m trying to remind myself that you’re one of my closest friends and if I kissed you like I really want to right now you would probably punch me.”

“You want to kiss me?”

“Always.” He made it sound like it was the most obvious thing in the world.

“Oh.”

“Oh?” The door flew open before Sebastian could question her further and both Poppy and Imelda came to a stop when they took note of how close the pair were standing.

“Are we interrupting something?”

“Not anymore,” Sebastian sighed. He brushed a thumb down Y/N’s spine gently, a silent gesture that they would be continuing this conversation later away from prying eyes, and reluctantly released her. “Is Imelda joining us up to the castle?”

“Someone had to come along so Sweeting wasn’t a third wheel,” Imelda shot a wicked grin at Y/N and made her way over to the carriage. The footman jumped down to help the women in first, only climbing back up when Sebastian insisted on closing the door himself. The carriage started to pull away before he could get fully seated which resulted in him falling into his seat next to Y/N, his body pressed against hers in a way that frayed his nerves.

“Oof. There’s no need to throw yourself at me like that, Seb. There are other ways to get my attention,” Y/N playfully pushed him away from her.

“You mean like earlier when you tackled me and nearly sent us both to the ground?”

“You weren’t exactly protesting when you clung into me like a niffler with gold.”

“What can I say, I seem to have a penchant for pretty women.”

“You’re both disgusting,” Imelda cut in. She tried to frown at the pair, but there was an obvious smile playing on the corners of her mouth. “If you both are going to flirt the whole way there I’d rather walk.” 

“At least you didn’t have to watch them earlier when we first saw Sebastian,” Poppy adds with a laugh. “I might as well have not been there.”

“You’re both welcome to walk the rest of the way to the castle,” Y/N raised her eyebrows at the pair and tried to fight the blush that was rising to her face.

“I’m sure you and Sallow would love it if we left you alone,” Imelda remarked dryly. 

“Alright you,” Y/N laughed and rolled her eyes. “I forgot how needy you two are when you’re together. I love all three of you equally, I promise.” Protests erupted from the two girls in front of Y/N and she listened in amusement as they started to bicker about which one she preferred.

“I’d like to add my own two sickles in to say I’m offended at being placed in league with Reyes,” Sebastian leant in, his voice low so as not to attract any attention. “We all know I’m your favourite.”

“Are you?” Y/N turned her head up to give him a teasing smile, only to jolt slightly when she realised how close his face was to hers. She heard his voice echo in her head, the pure sincerity as he had said he always wanted to kiss her. It could have just been one of his lines, but it still made Y/N’s stomach flutter and a blush rise to her face. She was thankful that the carriage was dimly lit and no one could call attention to her red cheeks.

“You’re a cruel, beautiful woman.”

“You’re ridiculous.” Y/N rolled her eyes at him and turned to look out of the window so he couldn’t see the smile on her face. The carriage rolled through the north entrance to the castle, skirting round the fountain that lay in the middle of the courtyard and came to a gentle stop outside the doors. Sebastian climbed out before the footman could grab the door for them and helped the girls out, his hand lingering on Y/N’s after she was back on solid ground. A small part of him had been worried he had gone too far when he told her he wanted to kiss her, but the small blush that seemed to appear on her face whenever he stood too close made him wonder. Could she possibly want him as much as he wanted her?

The doors swung open before they could step forward, revealing the inner halls to the group and Y/N felt a rush of warmth come from within the castle gently caress the magic inside of her. It felt like greeting an old familiar friend, as if Hogwarts was saying welcome home. Y/N looked at the entrance hall in front of her as a million memories flashed through her mind. From the first time she walked through these doors with Professor Fig by her side, to returning from her battle with Rookwood while clutching an injury she had sustained to her side (which had left her with a scar). She saw flashes of laughter with everyone she had been friendly with at school, from Poppy to Imelda to Natty, Garreth, Ominis, and finally Sebastian. Hundreds of moments with Sebastian flew through her mind - laughing with him, sneaking into the restricted section, sneaking out of the castle, meeting up in the Undercroft. She had heard people say it since she had left school, but Hogwarts was, and always would be, her home. 

“Are you coming, Y/N?” Poppy’s soft question brought her back to the present, where the three of them had already made their way through the doors and were waiting patiently for her. Sebastian raised an eyebrow at her, silently asking if she wanted to get out of there. She shook her head at him with a small smile and walked towards them, holding her skirts in one hand. 

“Yeah, I am.” The group made their way through the familiar halls in semi-silence and Y/N couldn’t help but remember how nervous she had been the first time, when she had been late to her own sorting. The ever-present pang of pain flickered as she thought of Professor Fig and how kind he had always been to her. 

“Ah, there you all are,” Professor Weasley stood in front of them, a large smile on her face as she pulled each of them into a hug. “It’s so good to see you all again.”

“Likewise, Professor,” Poppy’s excitement was infectious and Y/N soon found her dark thoughts scattering as she took a look around the Great Hall. 

“Matilda, please. You’re not students anymore.”

“Might take some getting used to,” Imelda pulled a small face but laughed quietly nonetheless, quickly excusing herself as she spotted their old flying teacher. Poppy trailed after her, unable to hide her eagerness to talk to Professor Howin. Professor Weasley (Matilda, Y/N reminded herself) looked between her and Sebastian casually, taking note of how close the two stood next to each other. 

“How have you been, Prof - Matilda?” Sebastian asked, saving Y/N from making awkward conversation. “Are the current students just as chaotic as we were?”

“I don’t think anyone could cause as much trouble as you did, Mr Sallow.” There was a teasing smile on the older witch’s face as she ran her eyes over Y/N, taking note of a few new scars that littered her arms (and the still-healing one on her face). “How are you holding up, Miss Y/L/N?”

“Y/N is fine, especially if we’re to call you Matilda,” Y/N forced a smile on her face and shuffled on her feet nervously. “I’m doing fine, no rest for the wicked as they say.” 

“Hm…I hope you’re making sure she’s taken care of, Mr Sallow.”

“Oh, we all try. I’m sure you remember how stubborn she was in school though.” Sebastian shot Y/N a cheeky smile in hopes that the teasing would loosen her up. She rolled her eyes back and nudged him gently. 

“I can take care of myself.”

“No harm in letting others help,” Matilda smiled to herself as she watched her former students interact with each other. It had been painfully obvious to all the staff that the two were meant for each other when they were back in school and it looked like they still hadn’t quite worked that out for themselves yet. “Anyway, are you ready, Y/N?” 

“Ready for what?”

“To dance. Surely someone has informed you that you would be opening the festivities tonight with a dance?”

“No…no they did not.” Y/N slid her eyes shut in annoyance, her stomach churning with nerves. Maybe it wasn’t too late to say she wasn’t feeling very well and just leave? Surely if she threw up like she wanted to that would buy some points in her favour.

“Oh…well now you know.” Matilda fussed with her hair and glanced around awkwardly. “I’m sure Headmaster Black wouldn’t mind being your partner for the evening.” I would rather battle Ranrok again, Y/N thought to herself, this night cannot get any worse.

“There’ll be no need for that, Professor Weasley,” Sebastian grasped Y/N’s elbow lightly, an easy smile on his face. “I’ll lead Y/N for the dance.” 

“Oh…thank you, Mr Sallow.” Y/N could have sworn the corner of Matilda Weasley’s mouth twitched up as she looked between her and Sebastian, but the smile was gone as quickly as it appeared. “It looks like others are starting to arrive so we shall start soon.” With that she quickly turned and walked away to greet some students who had just entered the hall, leaving Y/N and Sebastian behind. 

“You didn’t have to do that.”

“I wanted to,” Sebastian shrugged and turned to face her. “It saves you from having to dance with Black and I get an excuse to hold you close. There’s no losers this way.” He bit back a smile as he watched her look away from him nervously, the same pretty blush coming to her cheeks. He didn’t know if she was flustered because she wasn’t used to the attention, or because the attention was coming from him, but Merlin did he hope it was the latter. 

“You won’t feel that way when I step on your feet. I’m a horrible dancer.”

“And here I was thinking there was nothing you couldn’t do.” He brushed his fingers along her hand subtly to get her to look back at him. “Lucky for you, I’m an excellent dancer.”

“There’s plenty I’m not good at,” Y/N disagreed and tore her eyes away from the crowd of students who had just walked in. Leander was amongst the group and if she looked at him for a moment too long all she could hear was him calling out a toast in her name and it simultaneously made her want to throw up and punch him.

“I’ll believe it when I see it.” He watched as she fiddled with her fingers anxiously, her eyes darting around the room as more of their former school mates began to trickle in and wanted nothing more than to whisk her away from it all. He didn’t understand why she was subjecting herself to this when she clearly wanted nothing more than to be away from here. 

“If I could have your attention, please,” Phineas Black stood at the top of the room where the staff table would usually be, an orchestra in its place. “I would like to welcome you all to the ten year anniversary of our very own Y/N Y/L/N saving our school.” He gestured towards her and Y/N wished the ground would swallow her whole as they all turned to face her. “If our Hero of Hogwarts would like to make her way over we can officially start this reunion with the opening dance.”

Y/N placed her hand in Sebastian’s and let him escort her to the middle of the dance floor, her heart skipping a beat as she squeezed her hand reassuringly. He turned to face her with a small bow, a cheeky smile on his face as he placed a gentle kiss on her knuckles. Y/N narrowed her eyes at him playfully but couldn’t help to smile at his antics. 

“You can do this,” Sebastian murmured, pulling her close as the music started. She placed one hand on his shoulder as his own came to rest on her waist, eyes darting to the crowd that surrounded them.

“Everyone’s staring,” Y/N mumbled.

“Just keep your eyes on me, I’ve got you, darling.” Her eyes snapped up to meet his at the term of endearment only to see his eyes were already on hers, a teasing smile on his face. He started to lead her into a waltz, standing a little closer than needed so he could continue to speak to her.

“You’re being far more charming than you usually are.”

“How could I not when you turn the prettiest shade of pink every time?”

“You’re a rake.”

“You know, that’s twice you’ve said that now and I have to disagree.” He placed both hands on her waist as the music swelled and lifted her briefly. “If I were a rake, I’d be flirting with every woman I met.”

“You've been flirting this whole time? I never would have guessed.”

“Don’t start,” he rolled his eyes at her and tugged her closer, leaving no space between them.

“You could have given me some warning, maybe I would’ve liked to flirt back.”

“Now that I would pay to see.”

“What are you implying, Sallow?”

“I’m not implying anything,” he chuckled and span her in a gentle circle before tucking her back in place against him, “I’m just saying it’s usually me who flirts and showers you with compliments.”

“I didn’t think you needed me to tell you how good looking you are.”

“Probably not,” he shot her a devious grin, “but it would be nice.”

“Do you want me to start now?” Y/N lowered her voice considerably, her arm leaving his shoulder to wind around his neck and pull him impossibly closer. “Would you like to hear about the thoughts that ran through my mind earlier when I saw you in the Three Broomsticks?” she murmured in his ear. She felt him falter slightly as he led her and laughed quietly, her thumb brushing the back of his neck gently. “I don’t think you could handle hearing the way I think about you.”

“Think about me often, do you?”

“Always.” She pulled back slightly so he could see the serious look on her face as she repeated his early words with just as much conviction. The sound of applause startled them both slightly, and Y/N belatedly remembered there were other people in the room watching them dance indecently close to each other. Sebastian brushed a thumb down her spine again, signalling that their conversation would be tabled for later. He led her off the floor and towards Imelda, Poppy and Natty, who all wore matching wicked grins as the pair neared.

“Well I don’t know about you two but I feel positively scandalised at that display,” Imelda teased as they walked within earshot. 

“Jealous, Imelda?” Y/N offered her friend her own sly smile. “I’m sure I can make time for you later if you feel left out.”

“Depends, does Sallow share?”

“Absolutely not,” Sebastian tightened his grip on Y/N’s waist, which he had yet to release. “You’ll need to find your own dance partner, Reyes.”

“I’m sure Prewett would love to join you,” Y/N added. Sebastian shook in silent laughter from next to her as Imelda glared at the pair of them. 

“On that note, since I know how much you hate being the centre of attention - are you ready to accept your award?” 

“My what?”

“Imelda! It was supposed to be a surprise!” Natty chastised her.

“Well, I’m glad I told her because she looks like she’s going to be sick.” The Scottish witch wasn’t wrong, Y/N could feel her stomach start to churn and the lingering buzz from dancing with Sebastian disappeared. She didn’t deserve an award for what had happened. Poppy gave her a concerned look as Imelda and Natty started to bicker about ruining the surprise, although Y/N was too far gone in her thoughts to realise. Echoes of what she had been through flashed through her mind, but there were no good thoughts sprinkled within this time. All she could see was Ranrok in his strange dragon form as she fought him, followed by Professor Fig lying on the floor and dying by her side.

“Hey,” Sebastian took hold of Y/N’s elbow gently and leant in to whisper in her ear. “Let’s go. No arguments this time.”

“Where?”

“Anywhere. Everywhere. Just say the word and I’ll make it happen.” She looked up at him, panic still lingering in her gaze along with such pure agony that Sebastian could feel his heart shatter. 

“Let’s go.”

Part Two

[woozisguitar]

4:57am

warnings: mentions of anxiety, panic attacks and overthinking

word count: 853 (lowercase intended)

you sit in the stiff chair of your dining table, your laptop screen providing a soft glow in the otherwise dark room. the soft hum of the refrigerator and the shallow pants of your breath are the only noises in the dead of night. your otherwise loud neighborhood is relatively quiet today. you take in another deep breath, trying to calm your fast racing heart and even out your breathing. you know this is a tell of an impending anxiety attack, having had your fair share of those, but you don't even know what triggered this one. one minute you were quietly scrolling past the exciting lives of your friends on your phone, and the next you were in front of your computer for the past three hours, desperately trying to make some sense of your life.

“sweetheart, what are you doing?” a soft, sleepy voice rasps out from your bedroom door, causing you to look up from your computer.

a soft, tired jihoon stands in front of you, rubbing his eyes heavy with sleep. his hair is a mess, sticking out in all directions, and he opted to wear a soft sweater pajama set instead of his usual shorts. a small part of your heart seems to calm down at the sight in front of you.

jihoon walks over to where you are sitting and pulls a chair next to you. he peeks into your computer and sees various tabs open from post-grad programs of different universities, and he instantly knows what is happening. he then notices the soft tremor in your hands, your shallow breath, and the frantic, alert look in your tired eyes. he knows all too well what this means. he has witnessed a fair share of your panic attacks to know all the tells and signs like the back of his hand. he places his hands on yours, and you look up to meet his eyes. his eyes are so full of love and comfort, and for a second you forget about everything bad in your life.

“baby, what are you doing at this hour?” he tries again to coax you out of your bubble of panic. you sigh and look down at your intertwined hands.

“i'm just- i don't know, jihoon. i was watching all these people i know doing something with their lives, and i don't even know what to do anymore. i don't know what i'm doing with my life, and this is all so scary. i'm just-” you look up at him with tear-filled eyes. “what if i'm destined to fail in the end? what's the point of any of this then? it's been months since i graduated, with first honors too, but i just don't know what to do anymore. i feel so lost and useless and-” jihoon feels your anxiety increase, and as your breathing speeds up, he pulls you to his chest, softly cradling the back of your head as you quietly cry. he knows what you feel. you never talk about it, but all these feelings have been playing in your mind for a while now, and he knows exactly what you need to hear.

“you're not a disappointment, my love. you'll never be a disappointment to me. ever. and it's okay to not have things figured out right now. you have a plan, yeah? you have multiple plans, and right now you know it's not worth being anxious over it. trust me, my love, we just have to wait it out. i know you're not used to being so free, but maybe it was about time you took a break. everyone you know never worked so consistently for the past few years, whereas you didn't even take a break. i know it's hard, it's very, very hard, but you need to slow down and take a break. you've done so much already, you just have to wait it out now. we will apply to post-grad programs together like i promised, but we have to wait till they open up. there's no point being anxious before that.” jihoon feels your breathing slow down and slowly return to its normal rate at his words.

damn jihoon and his way with words.

you slowly lift your head up to look at him, and he wipes the tears from your face. he cups your cheek and kisses your forehead, a small promise that he's here and that he's not going anywhere.

“i'm sorry i woke you up,” you sniffle.

“never apologize, my love. i'm always here for you. now let's go to bed, hmm?” he says, closing your laptop and helping you out of your chair.

“jihoon, can you please sing for me?” you say softly after settling in your bed, your head on his chest and his arms secured around you.

“of course, my love. anything for you.”

and with that, you slowly drift off to sleep to the sound of your lover humming you to sleep. the world may be a hard and difficult place to deal with, but you know at the end of the day, you'll always have jihoon.

a/n: sorry its 5 am and i cant sleep

[mx-your-name]

His Goddess - 2

Possessive!Adam x Goddess!Reader

Warning: Yandere theme, Possessive Adam, minimum Obsessed Adam, mention of willing to kill angels and sinners, Adam trying to fight a literal GOD, slight mention of sized and mommy kink, a weird ass dead Angel willing to do anything for you that goes by the name of fucking ADAM!

-Like any normal day you were awake doing business whether it was watching over the mortal world, heaven, or hell

-Just then you had to get called into a meeting making you even more annoyed while you were trying to maintain all three places which were all chaotic.. Lute was a mess after Adam’s death with Sera and Emily trying to cheer her up or something, hell was hell, and Earth was just a mix of heaven and hell that was 10x worse than both

-And to your no amusement only to find out that the meeting had lasted for three hours!

-Not only did you miss out on normal day activities you do but Adam was also panicked on where you were at

-He had woken up and went to the normal spot to find you NOT there so he thought you were in your library or something? Nope! Garden? Not there either! He had looked everywhere only to find no one, not his goddess in sight

-Adam knew he shouldn’t worry since you were not only a HOT GODDESS but one that is more powerful than the other four

-Including your hot and sexiness

- *s i g h s in d i s a p p o i n t m e n t*

-Image him calling you tall milf or Mommy cause how you always towered over him.. yeah weird motherfucker but we still love him

-You see how cocky he is about himself just wait until he tells you all the cool stuff that he had done for you to fall more in love with him but fails miserably, you already saw everything he had done from the start of time itself

-Size kink, you can’t tell me otherwise! Whether it’s you or him that’s taller! He’ll still have a size kink no matter what!

-Still calls you a bitch but instead he says, “milf bitch,” or “tall bitch,” or “hot bitch,” or even “mommy bitch,” He’s still coming up with more nicknames for you till this day, yeah weird motherfucker am I right?

-I regret doing this but I love him sfm…

-Has told you multiple times that you belonged to him and him alone which is like 5 or 6 times PER DAY sadly..

-Of course he trusts that you’d never leave him for someone else like who would? He’s Adam! The first man! The dickmaster! He just doesn’t trust that goody tooshoo Cupid guy that talks nonstop about love this and love that

-Yeah.. he definitely had to tell himself that he was the only one made for you and you alone. He fucking CACKLED for the past 5 10 minutes about that

-Meanwhile you were super bored in the meeting which was talking about what to do with certain IMP’s in hell that were going back up to the human world messing with the people and killing them after getting more calls from clients and shit about that

-You were really wishing you brought Adam in here to make it entertaining and have some views from a person that knew sinners personally that just wanted to kill them

-Now when you were looking through the eyes you have everywhere and saw Adam laughing to himself then leaving to grab a drink and sip on it, maybe it was in fact the best idea to not have him come to this Gods meeting

“I say we just go down there and handle them ourselves! Sooner or later they are gonna need to learn to not FUCK with the human world and just stay in their damn place! Maybe we should even give Stolas a visit about him letting those IMP’s use his book that was passed on through his family from us!” Demeter shouted slamming her fist on the table now standing up from her chair knocking it over making it tumble onto the ground. The vines alongside the wall as decoration grew bigger fast from her anger that was swelling up inside of her.

“Not only that but they are messing with nature! The nature that I took my time growing! The nature that I took my time out of my schedule to plant in the place that was needed and thought out only from it all gets mostly destroyed by.. fucking IMP’s!” Her shouting was heard throughout the entire room and through the giant down for all of your 40 foot tall frames. The vines growing faster and faster the more her anger boiled, Eros shirking down a bit muttering how this didn’t feel like a lovely conversation anymore.

Themis sat there, her hands intertwined neatly on the table, staring at Demeter through her blindfold over her eyes with a straight face. Ares felt the anger that was all so familiar that he knew during the wars he went through time and time again for humans only that was never really appreciated or respected anymore nowadays. You knew every emotion that everyone was feeling, you sat at your seat in between both sides. Resting your face in the palm of your hand that stood up on the arm of your chair wanting this meeting to be over since you still had stuff that you needed to get down.

For example like making sure that Adam hadn’t gone mad when finding that you were missing and leaving your place without him. It was always important to him that when you left you had to take him with you since he was always feeling like you were just cheating on him with that Cupid guy which Adam refers to him as. Yeah you had to tell him just because you're leaving without him doesn’t mean you're doing any of that with Eros after all he wasn’t anything more. That but also because Eros already basically had two wives since he is Cupid.

You also had to remind Adam that you two weren’t dating, which Adam acted so dramatic about crying that you didn’t love him anymore. He had crocodile tears going down his face, sighing as you lifted him up in your hands telling him to stop crying. When he thought you weren’t looking he had a smirk on his face knowing that he won the conversation. He “always” did, instead you only let him since Eros told you over and over that he could feel Adam’s love for you raiding off of him, but told you privately that the love Adam had for you was more toxic and possessive but still said it was so cute to see the love between you two!

“Demeter, please calm down. We’ll get this whole situation sorted out in no time and you know revealing ourselves to anyone besides to the certain people that know about us would mess up everything and would cause chaos to arise. We’ll all come up with a plan on what to do, maybe we could speak to Stolas about the matter after all he knows of our existence because of his family.” You told Demeter, breaking through the tension between everyone once snapping out of your thoughts about the matter you're gonna have to deal with when getting back to your place.

“I sincerely apologize, [Name]. I’m just a bit mad for what those IMP’s are doing to my amazing plants down on the planet Earth.” She explained, her vines shrinking back down with a swipe of her hand. Her once chair that laid on the ground was now sat back up thanks to her plants that sprouted from the bottom of her feet. Demeter sat back down in her seat with a swift motion, Eros now sitting back up in his pink chair that had hearts on it that was designed that was to his liking.

-After that whole thing the meeting went completely normal figuring out ideas and coming up with a way to get what Demeter wanted without breaking any of the rules

-Never have you been so thankful in your life when the meeting finally ended letting all five of you go back to what you were doing before the three hour long God and Goddess gathering

-Snapping your fingers you were easily back at your place, Adam who was watching television with a slurpee in hand sipping on it

-Your once 40 foot tall height shrunk down to ten feet that was still taller than Adam since you didn’t feel comfortable being short cause it didn’t fit you, that’s what you’d always say

-Once you sat down beside him on the couch expect him to immediately cling onto you like you were a jungle gym or something

-For a warning he ain’t ever gonna let go until he feels that he can but will still cling to your side wherever your heart leads you to

-Threatening anyone that he deems competition that’ll try and fight for your love

-Yes he HAS in fact threatened the other gods even the goddesses about staying away from you his lover

-Oh my YOU! He almost died a second time thanks to Ares but it was stopped by you. Adam knew that you’d protect him but didn’t show it telling you that he could’ve handled it on his own

-no… just no-

-Adam so wished Lute was here so he could show you off to her and say he had hit the jackpot on finding the one that was always meant to be his lover from the start

-He does miss Lute most of the time feeling a bit lonely without his best friend by his side but at least you're here with him! Not like you're ever gonna leave. He wasn’t able to die again with him by your side and you wouldn’t be able to die since you are a LITERAL goddess

-Had tried to convince you to bring Lute up here multiple times but you told him that you weren’t able to do that for the sake of the rules that were written down for you, you did tell him that if she did die that she would come up here and could stay here with the two of you if he wanted. Adam agreed with little hesitation because he realized that he might get you all to himself but if Lute was her she could protect you like your bodyguard

-As if you were gonna need one! If anyone tried attacking you they’re flicked away and if they did manage to after trying to get to where your at

“Oh come on Sugar tits! You will live Lute and we both could get what we want! I can have my best pal with me and you could have another person to add to this house that could pretty you!” Adam tried convincing you, walking side by side in the garden of flowers that Demeter had set up for you since she said your house was a bit dull m, that was but it wasn’t anymore when Adam arrived here and moved in total with your permission.

“I had already told you Adam, I’m not aloud the only way she could come up here is if she dies WITHOUT it being caused by me or any of the others.” You told him for the second time in the past two minutes man. Wait sugar tits? Oh great another nickname for you, guess it was a bit better than bitch mommy, gross. “Oh don’t be like that babes, what’s the worst that can happen? It’s just one person!” Adam said, slurping on his slurpee in hand, his golden wings resting behind his back. He no longer had his weird looking mask since he had died without it on.

“You ask one more time and I’ll take you going on walks with me in the garden away no scratch that, I'll take you sleeping with me away for a whole damn week if it makes you be quiet.” That had gotten Adam to shut up rather quickly huh guess that’s one of the things he doesn’t wanna go a week without or even a single day. He had bugged you so much one time so you kicked him out of your room for a whole night, he slept outside the door and apologized for what he did later that morning. He couldn’t even stand the feeling of sleeping without you in your big giant bed together.

Nodding your head as you continue your way through the garden admiring the flowers that Demeter had made for you. It was rather normal for all the gods or in other cases goddesses to give the others housewarming gifts. Demeter gave all of you plants and flowers, Eros had gotten any pink and pastel colors to represent love. Ares had gotten all shades of red and some black ones that often had both colors mixed to represent the war for him which he loved gladly.

Themis had gotten just blue that were all shades since she only wanted blue and some were white as an exception since Demeter said it was too bluey for the whole garden. You had gotten all kinds of colors since you were creation and creation could make any color and another part of the garden had darker shades of colors including black, all shades of gray, brown, and etc to represent the destruction.

Ares gave every person some knight armory stands along side the outside or inside of the huge like places you all live at to represent the protection of knights that could come to live from his power to protect the place it guards if anything tried to ever attack which was very unlikely but better be safe than sorry. Eros gifted everyone scented candles with your favorite scents and always gave you all new ones every once or two weeks cause the old ones melt away but that’s okay!

Themis gifted everyone scale if anyone needed an option on anything if you don’t ever make up your mind or see where a person should go to be either reincarnated or whiling them from the face of the entire existence. Your gift to everyone was to make anything they wished for since you had creation letting you create anything with the power of your magic that didn’t break a single sweat from you.

“How does a nice dinner and a movie tonight sound to you?” Breaking the silence with ease as your hand held the flower between your fingertips, the beauty is always surprising on how pretty and amazing things can look if you just focus on the present instead of technology, staying inside all day, or just not giving a single care about the world at all. “That sounds awesome, sugar tits.” Adam quickly agreed, grinning ear to ear, and there that nickname was there again.

Not able to hold the smile back from appearing on your face, letting out a laugh as you cover your mouth with your hand. Your eyelids open up revealing [color] eyes that had a star in the middle of it as the pupils. What made you even more beautiful to Adam in the scenery was your smile that would be worth a thousand or even more words that he spent in a heartbeat. But also because of the way you looked at him with pure eyes that seemed to easily overpower anyone if they tried to fight you, yet again they held both the sunset and sunrise you would always want to see with your significant other every day at any given chance that was open for free.

The sun shining brightly behind you making your appearance glow brightly made Adam feel like he fell so much harder for you than he already was. If he thought he was already deeply in love with you, this one handed split second had sealed the deal on his love that he felt for only you. And the way you were looking at him with laughter and a smile he knew you must love him back. If it wasn’t his cockyness talking he would say that he was glad you were starting to love him but maybe not as much as he loves you but that’s okay cause he could love you with all the love he’d offer. Maybe even kill sinners and angels combined to see you give him that smile every day.