#looks like something i usually draw for announcements | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

babeforjjmaybanks · 3 months ago

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orange soda crush ༊*·˚

pairing: popular!rafe x shy!femreader ౨ৎ

summary: rafe's grades were slipping, to say the least. your school assigns you as his tutor, hoping maybe you could save him. one afternoon, rafe shows up to your house with in need of some help.

warning(s): dry humping, fingering, finger licking, mentions of biting (hickeys), thigh riding, marijuana use, swearing, size kink if you squint, mentions of scratching, slight overstim, rafe becomes whipped so possessiveness, innocence corruption(?), praise, slight perv!rafe, titobsessed!rafe, dni if you don't like!!!

mentions of: rafey, rafe is called a "sex symbol", y/n, sweetheart, good girl, baby, sweet girl, dumbass, needy girl, slut, doll, cute, pretty ౨ৎ

a/n: if not known already, this is basically a obx highschool au, pogues and looks still exist but it's more like jocks and nerds. both reader and rafe are seniors, not minors! I don't have much experience with writing fics but here's my current fixation, enjoy & leave notes! <3

word count: 4168

divider by: @issysh3ll

y/n had been sitting quietly in her history class, the bell signaling the end of the period ringing in the distance. she was gathering her books when the overhead speaker crackled to life, interrupting the usual noise of students packing up.

"pardon this interruption, y/n l/n, please report to principal phelp’s office immediately."

the announcement hung in the air, drawing the attention of a few nearby students. she froze, a slight chill running through her. she wasn’t the type to get into trouble—her grades were impeccable, she kept to herself, and she was always on time. so why was she being called to the principal’s office? her mind raced through all the possible reasons, none of which seemed likely. had she missed an assignment? was there a mistake with her records? or was it the skirt she decided to wear today that definitely didn’t meet the dress code?

her heart pounded as she made her way down the hall, the sound of her footsteps echoing in the quiet corridor. as she approached the principal’s office, she noticed the usual hustle and bustle of students outside. some of them exchanged glances, their curious eyes following her every step, looking her up and down with whispers and sly looks. when she reached the door, she hesitated for a moment before knocking lightly.

"come in," came the deep voice of principal phelps.

she opened the door to find him sitting behind his desk, a manila folder in front of him. the room was neat, almost too perfect, the smell of old books and polished wood filling the air. but what really caught her off guard was the figure sitting across from him.

rafe cameron, the school's golden boy.

her stomach dropped. rafe was sitting with his arms crossed, his signature smirk plastered across his face as he looked over at her. His messy curtain and athletic jacket seemed almost out of place in the sterile office, like he didn’t belong in this space. she had always known of him, of course. he was the star quarterback, the guy everyone knew by name, the one who seemed to glide effortlessly through life. and now, here he was, looking at her as if he had all the time in the world, while she, on the other hand, was caught off guard and confused.

"there she is, come on in we were just talking about you." principal phelps said with a warm smile, though she could detect a hint of urgency in his tone. "take a seat."

she sat down hesitantly, trying to avoid looking directly at rafe. the tension in the air was palpable, and she was acutely aware of how out of place she felt in this situation.

"y/n," principal phelps began, folding his hands in front of him, his expression turning serious, "I’ve called you here because I need a favor. you know rafe, right?"

you glanced at rafe again, his eyes diverted to something else in the room as if he wasn’t staring at you. he seemed unfazed by the situation, though there was a subtle flicker of something in his eyes. "um, yeah," you said quietly, not sure where this conversation was going.

principal phelps nodded. "well, rafe here has been struggling in a few subjects. he’s having difficulty with math, english, and history.” principal phelps cleared his throat trying to ignore the fact that he named almost every class. “and unfortunately, his grades are slipping dangerously low. If he doesn’t get his grades up, he could lose his eligibility to play on the football team, which would jeopardize his scholarship opportunities." he paused, giving her a moment to process the gravity of the situation.

she blinked, her mind racing. rafe? struggling? the same rafe who could probably get away with doing the bare minimum and still pass every class? the same rafe with the fancy sport cars and the fancy mansion he threw ragers in? (allegedly, she’s never been to one.) the same rafe who had never so much as acknowledged her existence in all the years they’d been in school?

"I’m asking you," principal phelps continued, leaning forward slightly, "to tutor rafe for the next few weeks. he needs to pass these subjects to stay on track. and I know you’re one of our top students, y/n. you’re smart, diligent, and patient—exactly what rafe needs right now."

rafe shifted in his chair, his smirk faltering for just a moment. "yeah, sweetheart," he added with a lazy grin, "I could use your help. think you can handle it?" he glanced down at her thighs, and then back up at her. she felt her face flush at the sudden name.

her mind was spinning. she had never thought of rafe as anything more than the popular guy—someone she’d seen in the hallways but never really interacted with. actually, that was a lie, the thinking part. she actually would think about rafe alot when she was bored, specifically his toned body and the way he bit his lip when he was thinking. she had no idea how to deal with someone like him.

"I—I don’t know," she stammered, feeling her face flush. "I’m not sure I’m the right person for this."

principal phelps’s voice softened, but there was still a sense of urgency in his words. "I’m sure you are. rafe, here, is a good kid at heart, but he’s under a lot of pressure. If you help him out, it could mean a lot to him—and to his future."

rafe’s eyes met hers again, and for a split second, she thought she saw something other than cockiness—a hint of desperation, maybe even embarrassment. but it was gone before she could fully understand it.

she took a deep breath. she had never been one to shy away from responsibility, even if the situation seemed overwhelming. she didn’t want to be the one to deny him help, especially when it could affect his future.

"okay," she finally said, her voice steady but unsure. "I’ll help."

principal phelps smiled, relief flooding his face. "thank you, y/n. I know this is a lot to ask, but I think you’re exactly what rafe needs."

as she stood up to leave, she felt the weight of the task ahead of her settle in. she glanced one more time at rafe, who was still sitting there, his posture slightly more relaxed now. He didn’t say anything, but she could feel the tension between them already starting to form, a mix of uncertainty and something unspoken.

"see you tomorrow, then," she said, her words more for herself than for him, before leaving the office to prepare for what was about to be an unexpected and challenging journey.

over the past two weeks, y/n and rafe had settled into a rhythm, though it was far from smooth at first. their tutoring sessions started awkwardly—rafe's usual cocky demeanor clashed with y/n’s quiet, no-nonsense attitude. he would slouch in his chair, often cracking jokes or making sarcastic comments, testing her patience. but y/n, determined to get him through the material, refused to let him off the hook. slowly, she found ways to get through to him, breaking down complicated equations and historical events into relatable, bite-sized pieces. rafe, surprisingly, started to respond. he still struggled, but he began showing up earlier for their sessions, staying later, and even asking questions without the usual bravado.

as the days passed, the tutoring sessions shifted from strictly academic to more personal. one evening, as they were going over a particularly difficult history assignment, rafe let slip that his father had been pushing him to be the perfect athlete, to always be "the best." "It’s not just about football," rafe admitted, his tone more vulnerable than she had ever heard. "I just don’t want to disappoint him, you know?" y/n was taken aback. she had always seen rafe as the confident jock, but here was a side of him she hadn’t expected—a young man weighed down by more than just his grades. she listened quietly, offering a rare, understanding smile that made rafe pause for a moment. after that, their sessions felt different. the walls that had once separated them began to crumble.

In the weeks that followed, their conversations drifted beyond just homework. rafe started sharing bits of his life with you—how he used to love painting when he was younger, how he struggled with anxiety before big games, and how he was terrified of failing his senior year. you, in turn, opened up as well, telling rafe about your dream of becoming a lawyer and how you often felt like an outsider at school. the two of you discovered common ground in your shared feelings of pressure, and the lines between tutor and student began to blur. with each passing session, you became more comfortable with one another, a connection forming that neither had anticipated—one built on mutual respect, trust, and the quiet bond of shared struggle.

it was a quiet evening when y/n heard the unexpected knock on her door. she glanced at the clock—there was no study session scheduled for that night, so she wasn’t expecting anyone. her parents were out, and she had been planning on catching up on some reading. she opened the door, a little confused, only to find rafe standing on her porch, looking uncharacteristically disheveled. his usual confident posture was gone, replaced with an uneasy slouch. his eyes were almost bloodshot, and he wore an unfamiliar look on his face—vulnerable, even fragile.

"rafe?" y/n asked, surprised. "what are you doing here?"

he ran a hand through his messy hair and let out a small, strained laugh. "I—I know this is weird. but I, uh... I had a fight with my dad. a big one. he’s pissed about my grades and shit again, and he’s been on my case all week." rafe hesitated, biting his lip as if trying to hold back a wave of frustration. "I... I got high. like really fucking high I know I shouldn’t have, but I just couldn’t handle it. and I needed to get out of there." he looked down at his shoes, his words a little rushed. "I just—" he sighed, clearly frustrated with himself. "I don’t know, I thought maybe you’d—just let me hang out for a bit. I didn’t know where else to go. I didn't wanna seem like a pussy to all of my dumbass friends."

y/n stood frozen for a moment, processing his words. she had never seen him like this. the rafe she knew was always in control, always surrounded by his friends, the football team, and the unshakable air of confidence. this version of him—lost, raw, and uncertain—was a stark contrast. her heart softened at the sight of him, and despite the oddness of the situation, she stepped aside and motioned for him to come in.

"come in," she said, her voice gentle. "let’s sit down."

rafe walked in slowly, his movements sluggish, still unsure of what to say. she led him to the living room and handed him a glass of water, sitting down next to him, a soft hand placed on his back. the room was filled with the low voice of lana del ray and soft hum of the evening, and for a moment, neither of them spoke. rafe finally looked up, meeting her gaze with a look of quiet gratitude mixed with embarrassment along with something untraceable. "I didn’t mean to show up like this, but I didn’t know who else I could trust with this."

y/n’s heart tightened. she had no idea how much weight rafe had been carrying, how much pressure he was under from his father and the constant expectations of being perfect. In that moment, she realized how little she had truly known about him, and yet here he was—vulnerable, raw, and seeking comfort from the one person he had never expected to rely on.

"you don’t have to explain," she said softly. "I’m glad you came." she gave him a weak smile, rafe felt his heart flutter. "so.. how'd you get high? is that stupid question? sorry, you know people are bringing cocaine back into school." he chuckles, she lets out a giggle. "no cocaine here sweetheart, just this." rafe reached into his pocket and pulled out a weed pen, but y/n had never seen anything like it. it was super colorful and weirdly shaped, not like the ones she would see in the bathroom. "can I hold it?" she glanced at rafe, her doe eyes dimly lit with the faint lighting coming from the lamp in the corner. "why? you smoke? no way." he raised his eyebrow at her, but handed her the pen anyway.

"no, I don't smoke but.." she pauses, biting her lip, "I'm tempted. maybe you're just a really bad influence." he scoffed at her, "give it a try, just hold the button and pull it." y/n stood at the device in her hand uncertain. "what do you mean pull?" rafe held back his laugh, she shoots him a glare. "I'm serious." she playfully shoved him.

"yeah yeah I can see that, by pull I mean, suck on it I guess." her face heats up, cursing herself for letting such innocent words cause a fluttery feeling in her stomach. "okay, I'll try." she focused her attention of the pen and did as rafe said, she put the pen up to her lips and "sucked." rafe watched intensely as her lips wrapped around the tip of the pen, he swallows hard. trying to keep his composure, aka stop staring at your boobs in your thin strapped top or imagine your lips wrapped around his dick like that.

you slightly inhale the smoke and it immediately gets caught in your throat. you're now in a coughing frenzy, embarrassed as rafe pats your back. "atta girl, that's how you do it don't try to hold it in, let it out." y/n found herself coughing even more at the sly remarks. she stands up and walks over to the kitchen hastily grabbing an orange fanta from the fridge. she struggles to open it due to her latest french tip set, rafe notices her struggling and walks over. he opens the can with one hand with a sizzle pop! noise, she brings the drink to her lips hoping to relieve her dry mouth.

after taking a couple minutes to calm down, y/n offers rafe to come up to her room. it comes off as a surprise, rafe had never been anywhere in y/n's house except the living room and kitchen, never upstairs. but with no complaint, he follows behind her, watching the way her ass moves as she climbs up the steps. they make it to her room and it's safe to say, it was tidy. everything seemed like it had a place, and the room was lit with purple led's. but the best part of it all, was her bed. the mattress was extremely comfortable and she had an abundance of pillows as well as plushies.

"yeah this fits you, like a doll in a dollhouse." he walks around her room a bit before sitting on her bed getting comfortable.

meanwhile, y/n on the other hand was in a whole other world.

her ears were burning almost, she could hear her heartbeat and her whole body was tingling. she felt nothing short of amazing, euphoric even.

the usual walls between them had melted away, and now, as the evening dragged on, the space between them felt more intimate than it ever had before. there was movie was playing on her TV, but neither of them seemed particularly interested in it. they were both laughing at the silly dialogue and weird moments on the screen, but most of the time their eyes kept drifting back to each other.

rafe broke the silence, his voice softer than usual. "you know," he said, arms wrapped around her waist as she sat on top of him, "this is the most chill I’ve felt in weeks." his eyes were a little glassy, but his smile was genuine, more relaxed than she’d ever seen him. "It’s nice being away from everything… away from the pressure."

she nodded, her head slightly spinning from the effects. the room felt warmer, the air thicker, and rafe’s presence seemed to fill the space between them in a way that felt new. he shifted, his chest brushing against her back, and neither of them pulled away. It felt like a small moment of intimacy, unspoken yet undeniable.

"yeah," she replied, her voice quieter now, "it’s nice not to think about all the things we’re supposed to be worrying about."

"I wonder, do you ever worry about me? think about me at night?" his tone was teasing, but there was something more behind it, something she could feel but couldn’t quite place. It was an invitation, but also something more—like a question she wasn’t sure how to answer. "so much goes on behind those pretty eyes."

y/n felt her heart beat a little faster as she considered it. part of her wanted to stay upright on his lap, maintain the little distance they had been keeping, but something about rafe’s tone, the way his eyes held hers, made her hesitate. she wanted to trust this moment, to let it unfold without overthinking it. she melted into his touch, resting her head in the crook of his neck, thighs pressed together. "I do."

rafe shifted to make room as he breathed in the scent of vanilla, the bed soft beneath him. the air between them was electric now, charged with a tension that neither of them seemed willing to break. the movie was still playing, but neither of them were paying attention to it anymore. they were closer now, the space between them reduced to nothing and for the first time in a long time she wasn't sure of something, she wasn’t sure if she was just feeling the effects of the weed or something more.

rafe leaned back against the pillows, his arms still wrapped around her body. "we don’t have to watch the movie," he said, his voice almost too smooth, like he was testing the waters. his eyes didn’t leave hers, his gaze intent and heavy, and in that moment, the world outside her room seemed to disappear.

y/n’s breath caught in her throat as the tension between them grew. every inch of her body was acutely aware of him, the way his presence felt so overwhelming, so magnetic. she had always seen rafe as someone distant, someone who belonged to a world she could never quite fit into. but now, with the smoke being blown in her face, taken in by slightly parted lips, she felt like they were on the same level.

she opened her mouth to respond, but the words didn’t come. Instead, she just looked at him, her pulse racing as her mind swirled in the haze of the night.

"I wanna touch you."

rafe's breath fell heavy on her ear, sending a slight chill down her spine. her breath hitched, and there was that same flutter in her stomach. she didn't exactly have any experience in things like this but she wasn't entirely clueless, but never dealt with it hands on.

but rafe? he was a fucking sex symbol. several girls would literally leave notes in his locker with their address begging him to fuck them. but he would only rack up two bodies, or so it's said.

both of those girls transferred schools due to death threats.

but y/n doesn't understand why he would choose her.

"touch, me?" her voice was soft, but not afraid. infact, she was more relaxed than ever. "I wanna make you feel good, you're gonna be the fucking death of me. so innocent you don't even notice how you're straddling me, do you?" y/n took notice of how firmly planted on his thigh she was, no longer fully in his lap. "um, well.." rafe placed his hands on her hips, slowly guiding her back and forth. a jolt of pleasure shooting through her body, "rafey." a mewl creept from her lips, rafe was fucking aching in his sweats at this point. hair sticking to his forehead, lips parted slightly. "shit, you want me to stop? just give me the word i'll stop." he halts his movements, earning a disappointed whine.

"I don't want you to stop."

rafe curses under his breath, he slides her onto his lap and grinds his hips up into her, letting out a low groan. "you're a needy girl aren't you? so stressed and pent up. you can let go, I got you." rafe coo'd into her ear, placing soft kisses on her shoulders and moving to her neck, biting and sucking, hands rubbing all over her body, palming her boobs through her top, fingers brushing over her nipples.

rafe turns her head twords him, pressing their lips together. a mix of cherry lipgloss and orange fanta settling on his tongue. the kiss is sloppy and heated, the air in the room is thick as the movie in the background gets drowned out by moans and heavy breaths.

"such a sweet girl, you know that? all the shit you do for me? you deserve a fucking trophy." rafe showers her with praise has he goes back to kissing her neck, hands never leaving her body as she caught the rhythm on her own.

her brain was foggy with pleasure, lips parted but could't respond with anything but moans and "mhm's." rafe plays with the hem of her pajama pants, "can I?" she nods, "words, baby I need to hear you say it."

y/n, almost frustrated lets out a defeated sigh. "yes, but.." she hesitates. "can you take your shirt off?" she says quietly, as if she wasn't already in such a vulnerable state.

rafe chuckles at the sudden request, but does as she says. he pulls his black shirt over his head and tosses it to the floor. y/n does the same. rafe is practically drooling at the sight of the pink lacy bra. his hands cup her breasts through the fabric, she arches her back against his chest. he slides his hand into her pants, glancing down to see that her underwear matched her bra. "so fucking cute."

he rubs her through the fabric, dampness seeping through the material. he teases her with long strides and rubs circles around her clit. he slips his hand into her underwear, almost moaning at the slick. y/n bites her swollen lip in an attempt to save her embarrassment.

"I want you to watch me."

her eyes slowly moved down to rafes hand in her pants, her face heated with embarrassment as she watched rafe's forearm and wrist flexed as he worked her clit, finger teasing her entrance. "I need you to relax, open your legs for me." rafe slowly parted her thighs with his free hand. "good fucking girl, so obedient." he kisses her cheek as he slides a digit into her sopping cunt. she inhales sharply, her head is thrown over his shoulder and her nails dig slightly into his arms.

"shit, just sucking me in. if I didn't know any better i'd think you were a slut." rafe's teasing manner never seemed to stop, he was two fingers, knuckle deep, in his supposed to be tutor. the only thing they were studying were eachothers body movements.

he found a steady pace working his fingers in and out of her, her moans becoming more high pitched, rafe could tell she was close. her hips bucked up into his hand, an unfamiliar knot forming in her stomach.

"rafey— 'm gonna— fuck!"

rafe was in genuine disbelief, not only did he cum in his pants but this was the first time he had ever heard you swear, tonight was a lot of firsts. the girl that he had been crushing on for weeks was about to cum on his fingers, moaning his name. he was never letting her go after this.

almost like it was on cue, y/n's orgasm hit like a truck. her entire body was shaking and she swore she saw starts. on top of that, rafe was still working his fingers in and out of her riding out her orgasm. she swatted his hands away and he took his hand out of her pants, bringing his fingers up to his mouth and licking them clean. she falls off of his lap onto the cool comforter beside him, chest heaving. he lays beside her and wraps his arms around her waist.

"want me to go run a bath, sweetheart?" he kisses the nape of her neck and cages her in. "'n a minute, just stay here for a second."

"didn't plan on leaving." ౨ৎ

#rafe obx #rafe cameron #rafe x reader #rafe smut #smut #obx smut #obx rafe cameron #highschool au #jock #nerd #orange #lana del rey #fem reader #fluff #comfort #opposites attract

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monstera-modd · 10 days ago

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DCxDP Crossover #2

The Space Worm

After a battle with a particularly tough ghost, Danny seeks refuge among the stars, hoping that his obsession will aid in his healing process. As he floats through the dazzling lights and passes by moons and planets, Danny finally finds the perfect spot! He trills and chirps in delight as he wraps himself around the metal structure, soothing his throbbing core. Closing his eyes, he indulges in the much-needed rest that Jazz always encourages him to take.

_________________

Constantine is going to kill someone (himself preferably).

Bleary-eyed, he reaches for his phone on the nightstand.

"Bat, if the world isn't on fire, I swear I'll curse you ten ways to Sunday!"

The call goes silent—par for the usual with Batman and phone calls.

"There's a massive spectral entity encircling the Watchtower."

John curses the day he ever got involved with their shit in the first place.

"...I'm on my way."

________________________

"This is awesome!"

Batman grunts as Flash smashes his face against the glass in the viewing dock, trying to catch a glimpse of the glowing worm. ("What? It has no legs, Batman—thus, a worm!")

Batman's glare hardens. "Constantine is on his way. Until then, no one makes loud noises that could draw the creature's attention to us."

"Did he say what it could be, perhaps?" Wonder Woman asks. She had been sitting at the end of the table but now stands near Flash, looking out into space.

A ping on one of the screens announces Constantine’s arrival. Superman, pacing silently, flies over and lands just as the doors slide open, revealing Constantine, who looks like he got dragged through Hell and back—twice. He rubs his eyes with the back of his hand, muttering something under his breath that sounds suspiciously like a curse meant to banish hangovers.

“Alright,” he sighs, stepping into the room. “I’m here. Where is the bloody emergency?”

Batman, ever the efficient one, gestures toward the massive viewing window. Constantine follows the motion, and for the first time, his usual deadpan expression falters. His cigarette almost falls from his lips.

"Bloody hell," he mutters.

“Right?!" Flash chimes in. "It’s a worm! A big, glowing, space worm!"

Constantine doesn't respond immediately. Instead, he steps closer to the glass, eyes narrowing. The creature is massive, coiled protectively around part of the Watchtower’s exterior. A strange, rhythmic hum reverberates through the hull, though it’s unclear if it’s coming from the worm or just an auditory illusion from its sheer size.

“Looks spectral,” Constantine finally says, rubbing his chin. “But… it’s not actin’ like a typical ghost. It’s just… resting.”

Wonder Woman folds her arms. “Could it be intelligent?”

“Most ghosts are,” Constantine mutters. “Even the dumb ones.”

Batman’s voice cuts in. “If it’s intelligent, we need to figure out its intentions before taking action.”

Superman frowns, his X-ray vision scanning the creature’s form. “There’s something… odd about it. I don’t sense hostility, but there’s definitely something going on with its heart.”

Constantine stiffens. “Its core?”

Superman nods. “It has a fluctuating energy source. Almost like…” He hesitates, then looks at Constantine. “Almost like a ghost that’s injured.”

That gets everyone’s attention.

"Injured?" Flash repeats. "So, what? This thing came here to take a nap?"

Constantine curses again, louder this time. “You bunch of blokes just let a massive, injured ghost curl up around your base without knowin’ what it is?”

“I tried to scan it,” Batman says, voice tight. “It’s unlike any spectral entity we’ve encountered before.”

Constantine sighs, pinching the bridge of his nose. “Right, fine. Let’s do this the old-fashioned way.”

He raises a hand, fingers curling as he murmurs in Latin. A faint golden light pulses from his fingertips, stretching toward the glass. For a moment, nothing happens. Then—

A tremor shakes the Watchtower.

The worm stirs.

A low, warbling trill reverberates through the station, and suddenly, a pair of massive, glowing green eyes snap open.

Constantine stumbles back. “Ah, shit.”

The entire room tenses. Batman reaches for his belt. Superman prepares to engage.

But before anyone can act—

The worm blinks. Its form ripples, shifting, distorting, and then—

A human shape peels away from the massive ghostly coils, floating weightlessly in the vacuum of space.

A boy.

White hair, black jumpsuit, glowing green eyes filled with exhaustion and confusion. He clutches his chest as if it pains him, his breathing heavy.

Then, through the comms, a weak but familiar voice crackles through the static.

“Uh… hey?” The boy—Danny Phantom—gives a sheepish grin. “So… this isn’t where I parked my spaceship.”

The room is dead silent.

Flash is the first to speak.

“Holy crap. The worm talks.”

Constantine groans. "I hate this job."

-Danny the green worm

#danny fenton #danny phantom #dpxdc #danny is a worm #justice league #john constantine #batman #i love flash in this he is me and I am him #John Constantine needs a break and a week long nap #that's also all Danny wanted before some guy in red starting screaming like a kid at the zoo

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mssorceressupreme · 1 month ago

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You’re Mine

———

Pairing: In ho x reader, Kang Dae Ho x reader

Summary: you’ve just announced that ur dating Dae Ho but Young-il wants you to himself, and he shows that by finger fucking you in front of your bf

Warnings/tags: minors DNI 18+, jealous, yandere!inho, posessive, noncon touch, kind of cheating(?), fingering, use of ropes, chained to bed, dom!inho, sub!reader, orgasm denial, finger sucking, i love daeho plz don't come for me he's my fav

a/n: i just realised how similar this lowkey is to my other young-il imagine, but it's slightly different so oh well lol <3

——— Prologue/Backstory:

The lights of the bunk bed hall cast long shadows over the rows of metal frames and thin mattresses. The air was heavy, filled with the quiet hum of voices as the players tried to grasp whatever fleeting moments of peace they could in this terrifying game.

You and Daeho stood in the middle of it all, the announcement of your newfound relationship still lingering in the air, drawing the attention of everyone around you.

Daeho held your hand tightly, his warmth grounding you in this cold, merciless place. His confession during the last game had taken you by surprise—his voice trembling yet resolute as he admitted his feelings, thinking it might be his last chance.

And as the chaos of the game unfolded, you realised your own feelings, the ones you had buried deep beneath the weight of survival. Now, standing together in the middle of the room, there was no need to hide anymore.

"You two are so cute together," Junhee complimented, a small, genuine smile appearing on her face.

"Finally! Took you long enough to figure it out," Jungbae chimed in, drawing chuckles from the surrounding players.

Daeho scratched the back of his neck, a faint blush creeping up to his cheeks. "Well, I didn’t think confessing while we were about to get killed was the best timing, but… it worked out, I suppose."

You laughed softly, nudging him with your shoulder. "Honestly, it was terrible timing, but I’ll let it slide."

The players around you erupted into lighthearted laughter, their cheers and congratulations cutting through the usual tension of the hall.

For a brief moment, it almost felt normal—like you were back in the real world, surrounded by friends and not the grim reality of this deadly game.

But not everyone shared the room’s jubilant mood.

From his spot on one of the upper bunks, Young-il watched the scene unfold, his jaw tightening. His dark eyes flicked between you and Daeho, his knuckles white as he gripped the edge of the bed. He didn’t smile, didn’t join in the congratulations. Instead, his gaze bore into Daeho like a predator watching its prey.

You. You weren’t supposed to be with Daeho. You were supposed to be his.

Young-il replayed every moment the two of you had shared in his mind, twisting them into something more significant than they were.

You had smiled at him once, after he had helped you during a particularly grueling game. You had thanked him, your voice soft and sincere, and he had clung to that moment like a lifeline.

When he had been stressed, you were the one who had comforted him, your touch gentle, your concern evident.

He was certain you felt something for him.

So how could you be standing there, holding Daeho’s hand, laughing with him like that?

"Young-il!" Jungbae called, snapping him out of his thoughts.

His head jerked toward the voice, and he quickly plastered on a smile. It was forced, but convincing enough. "Yeah?"

"Don’t they look cute together?" Jungbae asked, motioning toward you and Daeho.

Young-il’s smile widened, though it didn’t reach his eyes. "Yeah… yeah, they do. Really happy for them."

But his gaze slid back to you, watching the way you looked at Daeho, the soft, unguarded expression on your face. It made his blood boil. He should’ve been the one to confess to you, to stand beside you, to hold your hand.

And then, as if sensing his eyes on you, you turned and met his gaze.

For a moment, everything else faded. Your smile faltered, replaced by a look of quiet concern.

You always did that—noticed him in a way no one else did. It was part of why he had fallen for you in the first place.

"Are you okay?" you mouthed, your brow furrowing slightly.

Young-il’s heart stuttered, gosh, you always looked beautiful. He forced himself to nod, his lips curling into a smile that he hoped seemed genuine. "Yeah," he mouthed back.

But inside, he was seething.

If Daeho thought he could just swoop in and take you away, he was dead wrong.

Daeho didn’t deserve you.

And if Young-il had to play dirty to make you his, so be it. ___

The faint flicker of the single overhead light was what woke you first. The room was eerily quiet though luxurious, the usual bustling activity in the game hall replaced with oppressive stillness.

You blinked groggily, shifting only to realise your wrists were bound tightly to the frame of a bed.

Beside the bed, Daeho sat tied to a chair a few metres away, his head lolling to one side before his eyes snapped open, immediately searching for you.

“Y/N!” His voice was hoarse with panic as he struggled against his restraints. “Are you okay? Did they hurt you?”

He paused, noticing you only had your undergarments on. A black bra, and cotton undies.

Immediately, he averted his eyes, darting towards the ground, "Who did this?!"

“I’m fine,” you replied quickly, keeping your voice calm despite the fear clawing at your chest, especially since you were clothe-less, “What is this? Why are we—?”

The sound of footsteps interrupted you. Slow, deliberate. Both you and Daeho turned toward the door as it creaked open, revealing Young-il wearing a black button up shirt, with his sleeves folded and black trousers, his sharp gaze fixed on the two of you.

He stepped into the room with unnerving composure, and in his hands, he held the unmistakable black mask of the Front Man.

“No…” Dae Ho’s voice faltered, disbelief evident in his tone. “You? You’re—”

“The Front Man?” Young-il finished with a smirk, his eyes darting to you. “Surprised? You shouldn’t be. I’ve been watching all of you from the start.”

Your stomach twisted as he sauntered closer, his demeanour unsettlingly calm. “What do you want, Young-il?” you asked, forcing your voice to stay steady.

“What do I want?” He chuckled softly, his eyes now piercing as it landed on you. “That should be obvious, shouldn’t it? I want you, Y/N."

The air in the room grew unsteady, thick with tension as his words hung in the silence.

Daeho immediately tensed, his muscles straining against the ropes. “Don’t you dare—”

Youngil raised a hand, silencing him effortlessly. “You should be grateful I’m even letting you live long enough to hear this. You think you’re good enough for her?” He scoffed, shaking his head. “You’ll only drag her down. You’ll get her killed.”

“That’s not your decision to make!” Daeho shot back, anger rising in his tone. “She’s with me because she chose to be.”

Youngil’s gaze darkened, though he forced a smile that didn’t reach his eyes. “Chose? You think her kindness to me meant nothing? The way she looked at me, helped me, cared—” His voice cracked slightly before he caught himself. “She belongs with someone who can protect her, someone who understands what it takes to survive.”

You felt a lump rise in your throat, your mind racing to process his words. “Young-il, I was just being kind to you,” you said softly. “You misinterpreted—”

“Don’t lie to me!” he snapped, slamming his hands on the foot of the bed, making you flinch. His mask of composure cracked for a moment before he forced himself to breathe deeply, stepping back. “You don’t know what’s best for you, Y/N. But I do.”

Daeho growled, his jaw clenched in fury. “You’re delusional if you think she’d ever choose you over me.”

Young-il’s eyes narrowed, but his smirk returned, more venomous now. “Let’s test that theory, shall we?” He turned to you, leaning slightly closer, his voice dropping to a near whisper. “I could give you everything, Y/N. Safety, power… a future. Can he promise that?”

You met his eyes, your fear slowly being replaced by boldness. “What I want isn’t up to you to decide.”

For a moment, Young-il seemed taken aback, but he quickly masked it with a bitter laugh. “Stubborn as always,” he muttered. “But I’m not giving up. Not on you.” His eyes flicked to Daeho, a dark glint of satisfaction in them. “And not because of him.”

"I'm with Daeho. I love him, alright? Whatever you're getting at, forget it because he's who I want to be with." You spat.

Young-il smiled, a rather patronising one as he crawled onto the bed, now hovering above you. "But I can make you feel so much better." He cooed into your ear, you'd be lying if you said this didn't send a wave of chills through your body.

"What're you doing?! Don't you dare touch her!" Daeho yelled, trying to break free from the ropes, but it wouldn't budge.

"Be with me and you'll both live. Stay with him and, well, he dies." Young-il said, straightening himself so that he was now between your legs, looking down at you.

"You're so fucking pretty, so enticing." Young-il's hands found their way to the velvety part of your thighs, spreading your legs apart and wrapping them around his hips as he kneeled in front of you.

"Let go of me!" You attempted to kick him away, but his grip on your legs was far stronger.

"Feisty are we? Come on love, don't be like that." He fake pouted before forcing them apart again. "You'll feel so much better when you corporate."

Young-il licked his palm before sliding them between your panties, cupping your warm throbbing cunt. "Shit, deny me all you want, but your body's says otherwise."

He pressed harder, rubbing your cunt slightly, "So wet for me and I barely touched you."

"Daeho..." You cried out, turning to face him.

"Y/N!!" Daeho was furious, how fucking dare Young-il touch you like that. He would kill him then and there if he could.

"I'll fucking kill you if you hurt her!" With all his might, Daeho tried breaking free, but the ropes were too thick, making it seem near impossible.

"Since Daeho is sitting there being all bratty, why don't we give him a show. I can show him how much better I can make you feel." Young-il smirked, every ounce of kindness erased from his face, the player you once knew, gone.

Forcefully, Young-il pulled your panties down with two fingers while he unclasped your bra with his other hand, leaving you now fully naked beneath him.

"Fuck...you're beautiful, all this deserves to be loved by the right person." Young-il grazed the sides of your body, slowly tracing your skin, making you twitch under his touch.

Daeho shut his eyes out of respect, not wanting to look at you, fully bare in front of him. "Leave her alone Young-il! She clearly doesn't like you!"

"How sure are you?" Without warning, Young-il traced your slit, coating his fingers with your wetness before shoving two fingers inside you, your body involuntarily reacted with a moan.

"Stop..." You plead, but all the more he began pumping quicker, curling his fingers inside you which targeted your g-spot. Fuck, as much as you hated him right now, it felt so good.

You didn't dare admit it, but this was a form of stress relief you needed among the chaos, you needed to release.

Your body arched, arms tied to the bed-frame unable to defend yourself. "Mhm..." You moaned again, but quickly shut your mouth suppressing it.

"That's my girl...no need to hide those beautiful noises from me." Satisfaction grew across Young-il's face, knowing how good he made you feel, how you were now putty under his touch.

"Look at her Daeho...look how good I'm making her feel."

Daeho shut his eyes, turning away while shaking his head, refusing to look but the more you moaned...the harder he grew. It made it no less harder to picture the sounds you'd make if he was the one fucking you, the one making you feel this way right now.

His bulge was evident, Daeho twitched in his seat, unable to deal with his situation. He couldn't help but peak a bit, seeing you made his arousal grow even harder.

Your back was arched, chest rising and falling heavily, eyes rolled back as Young-il continued pumping in and out of you.

It didn't help that you were so fucking stunning, looking like a Goddess. He knew it was wrong to think of you this way, but Daeho couldn't help but want you to himself too, imagining the things he could to do you, to hear those noises from you.

"Daeho..." You moaned, imagining it was him instead, hoping to ease the situation.

This sent a rush to his core, fuelling his desire for you even further. "Fuck..." Daeho grunted, his pants tightening all the more, a wet patch of precum became more evident.

"Baby I'm right here...just look at me." Daeho comforted, knowing he was at least near you, gave you some type of comfort and hearing his voice felt like music in this moment of torture.

You turned to look at him while you got finger fucked by Young-il, "Daeho..." You moaned softly, whimpering as Young-il quickened his pace, his arousal growing, the more you moaned.

Daeho glanced at you, with apologetic eyes, knowing how useless he was in this current situation, "Don't give in to him." He pleaded.

"Daeho...fuck..." You whimpered, your moans growing louder as you felt your climax approaching.

"I'm getting close..." You groaned, panting heavily. "Shit...I'm gonna cum..."

Your climax was near, so near, until Young-il pulled out, sucking his fingers while making eye-contact with you. "You taste so fucking good, but you don't get to cum so easily sweetheart."

"P-please...make me cum." You pleaded desperately, and both men looked at you, unsure of who you were addressing.

"I want you to beg for it." He spat, "For me."

You glanced up at his, eyes widening but involuntarily giving him pleading doe eyes, begging him for something, though you couldn't tell if you were begging him to stop or to continue.

You shook your head looking away from him, "Never."

He grabbed your chin, turning it to face him, tilting your head up, "You look so pretty beneath me..."

You rolled your eyes, but he continued, "I'll take care of you, you'll be safe with me, just be with me."

He then leaned down and kissed you, passionately, you hesitated, but found yourself kissing back. His tongue slid into your mouth, sucking your tongue, as you moaned into him. He grabbed your hair, pulling it slightly with one hand, while the other found your boobs, massaging them gently.

Daeho's eyes grew wide, and began grunting, trying to escape yet again but, again, no luck. Instead, he looked down, trying to get the vision out of his head.

"You liked that didn't you?" Young-il whispered lowly into your ear.

"Need to cum..." You whined, feeling your climax so close yet so far.

"Beg for it."

You turned to Daeho, looking at him with sad eyes, knowing you've lost, you had no choice but to shamefully beg, "P-please..."

"Louder."

"Please..." You whispered.

Young-il smirked, inching his fingers down to your cunt again, rubbing it slowly and sensually, increasing your arousal. "Beg, baby."

"Please Young-il, make me cum." You begged, loud enough for Daeho to hear now. His head hung low, before looking up with tired, defeated eyes, he knew he was helpless, this was the only way out of this situation.

"Whatever you want love," Young-il brought his two fingers up to your mouth, "Suck."

He shut his eyes as you sucked them, "Mhm..." He hummed, he was now fully hard on, the bulge pressing against your thigh, as he bent down closer to you.

You sucked his fingers, coating them with enough wetness before he moved them down to your cunt again, sliding them in, in which you let out a moan as a response.

He started off slow, then started quickening his pace as your breathing grew heavier, "So fucking pretty, getting finger fucked by me in front of your boyfriend."

His words had sent another rush to your core, increasing your wetness and desire, making you all the more closer to a climax.

"You like that?" He hummed, and you whimpered, nodding in response.

Your eyes fluttered shut, rolling back as you bucked your hips up, giving in to him, you needed more, fuck you needed him.

"Young-il..." You moaned.

Both of them darted their eyes at you, one was a satisfactory glance while the other despondent.

A devious and satisfactory smirk crept upon Young-il's lips, "That's right baby, say my name for me."

"Young-il...." Yet again, you didn't know where this was coming from but he made you feel so damn good, and credit was due. Though, you hated yourself for this, knowing Daeho was right there, knowing he lost.

Your toes curled, overwhelmed with pleasure, "Shit, I'm getting close..."

"Come for me love..." Young-il pushed you closer towards your climax, "Come around my fingers." He cooed.

Those words pushed you over the edge, sending a wave of pleasure through your body as you jerked harshly, finally coming undone. Your core pulsed with undeniable pleasure, and this release was exactly what you needed.

You panted heavily, opening your eyes to be met with Young-il's dark ones.

"Good girl." He kissed your forehead, stroking your cheek gently.

You avoided eye contact with Daeho, feeling guilty about the whole situation.

"So, will it be me or him, angel?"

You bit your lip, looking down, refusing to respond.

"Still need time to decide? That's alright, I'll be back for round two then." He smiled, though not a genuine one.

With that, he turned sharply and strode toward the door. “I’ll leave you two to think about it,” he said over his shoulder. “But remember, Y/N, there’s no room for love in this game. You’ll see that soon enough.”

The door slammed shut behind him, leaving you and Daeho alone in the suffocating silence. For a moment, neither of you spoke, the weight of Young-il’s words settling heavily in the air.

Then Daeho let out a shaky breath, his eyes softening as he looked at you. “Are you okay?” he asked, his voice gentle.

"I think we both know the answer to that." You responded softly, guilt consuming you.

"You had no choice, I'm not mad you know..." Daeho reassured you before continuing slowly, "I think you should be with him."

"What?" You shook your head, turning to face him, though still naked, you didn't care.

"I just want you to be safe, who knows what that psycho will do if you don't abide by his rules, never mind me, but what will he do to you." Daeho's voice was shaky, consumed by fear for your safety.

"I want to be with you Daeho, it's you I love not him."

He shook his head slowly, "I love you too, but I'd love for you to be safe. I want you safe." A tear slid down his cheek. It broke your heart to see Daeho in this state, you needed to fix this, seeing that you had the upper hand here.

"I'll go with him then," you agreed, and Daeho frowned slightly, unable to mask his emotions, "But once I kill that psycho, you're the first person I'm running too baby."

He looked up slowly, a grin playing across his face, "What's your plan?"

You smirked, sending him a defiant look. You were about to turn into a menace for Young-il but oh boy, you didn't care, as long as it meant you'd get to be with Daeho.

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kurokawaia · 6 months ago

Text

❛ THEY ARE WHAT ?! ❜

Husband! Tomioka Giyuu X Fem!Wife!Reader

WC;1.4 k+ | !MDNI! | TW/CW; x fem reader, you and giyuu are married, fluff, slight crack warning + more?

*ੈ✩‧₊˚𝑅𝐸𝒬𝒰𝐸𝒮𝒯 :: (filled request) Giyuu and the reader have been married for three years, but their marriage isn’t widely known. The reader, a bubbly and outgoing Hashira, is often seen around Giyuu, leading others to assume she pities him, unaware of their relationship. During a Hashira meeting, she casually asks for leave to celebrate her anniversary, surprising everyone. Ubuyashiki then reveals the truth by wishing the couple a happy anniversary, leaving the rest of the Hashira in shock - ANON

m.list | demon slayer m.list

You and Giyuu had always kept things... quiet. Not out of necessity, but because that's how Giyuu preferred it. He wasn't the type to flaunt his feelings or make a show of your relationship, and you didn't mind...most of the time. Sure, you'd tease him now and then, but your marriage wasn't something you shouted from the rooftops. You didn't hide it either, though.

People just never asked.

You were nothing like Giyuu in any aspect. Where he was brooding and silent, you were bubbly, always smiling, always drawing attention with your lively personality. Once you came into Hashira position, you'd gain the reputation of one of the friendliest and most outgoing but also one of the strongest.

People admired your skill, but they couldn't help but not ignore how you looked. You had that beauty to draw eyes, combined with your personality, it wasn't rare to hear other people say how you were one of the prettiest demon slayers.

No one knew your last name, though.

That might've been a clue-if any of them had stopped to think about it.

It was no secret that you spent a great deal of time around Giyuu, but most of the Hashira had come to the conclusion that you must pity him-some sort of friendly charity case. And Giyuu, in his usual way, didn't correct them. He never explained why you two were always together.

He let them assume and you let him.

But it was about to come out—whether you planned it or not.

The meeting started off like any other. You sat near Giyuu as per usual, not that anyone paid much attention to seating arrangements anymore. It had become routine. Sanemi barely spared a glance in your direction, too busy looking irritated by something else entirely, while Mitsuri flashed you her usual bright smile.

Rengoku was already there, greeting you with his boisterous energy. "Ah, good morning! You are looking radiant today as always!"

You smiled back at him. "Thanks, Rengoku."

Giyuu nodded in greeting but didn't say a word, silent as always and as still as air. You were used to it, though. His silence didn't faze you. Giyuu loved being near you in private, he was like a cat that didn't want to leave. But today, you did have something to ask, something that was going to definitely stir the pot.

When Ubuyashiki asked if anyone had announcements, you took a deep breath, preparing for the storm that would most definitely arise.

"Master Ubuyashiki, Giyuu and I would like to request a leave of absence for a week."

The other Hashira's eyes fell instantly upon you, curiosity written on their faces. Ubuyashiki smiled. "Of course. And for what reason?"

You grinned, your eyes flicking to Giyuu, who looked faintly concerned-he hadn't expected you to announce it, but you couldn't help yourself. "It's our anniversary."

There was a wave of shock around the room, though nobody said a word in that instant. Mitsuri gasped, eyes wide with wonder, while Sanemi shot you a look of utter incredulity. Rengoku's eyebrows shot up, for once, his grin faltered while he processed what you had said.

But Ubuyashiki didn't seem remotely surprised. As serenely as he always spoke, he merely inclined his head and said, "Ah, of course. Happy anniversary, Mr. and Mrs. Tomioka

Mitsuri's face had sagged. "W-what...?! Mrs. Tomioka?!"

Rengoku's eyes blinked, his confusion curled into laughter. "Wait—Giyuu's wife?! And all this time we thought you were just keeping him company out of pity!"

Giyuu's eyebrow twitched at the comment.

Sanemi huffed loudly, wrapping his arms around himself as if to shield the bruised ego within. "You've got to be kidding me. You're married? To him?"

Uzui leaned back as if he finally found the most amusing part of his day. "Tomioka's been keeping a pretty little secret from us this whole time, huh?" he said, raising an eyebrow in a smirk. "I gotta say, you are full of surprises. Bet you ain't as dull as we thought, Giyuu.

You tried to keep the laughter welling up inside of you contained, but Giyuu's expression was making you not to do so, he was getting embarrassed from the teasing. His face was stoic as ever, but you could sense him tense up. A hand laid stiff upon his lap gave a small jerk-a faint sign that all this attention set him ill at ease. You leaned forward and casually laid your hand over his, giving it a slight squeeze.

"Well, we didn't exactly hide it," you teased with a smile. "We just didn't tell anyone."

Sanemi grunted low. "You mean he didn't say anything."

Giyuu had nothing to say, his eyes on the floor. Moments like this, you knew he wanted to disappear. But instead of letting the others keep their teasing going, you turned the tables.

"Oh, don't look so surprised," you teased, moving in a little closer to Giyuu with a sparkle in your eye. "It's been years now. Giyuu's always been such a romantic."

Sanemi snorted, and Tengen let out a loud laugh. "Yeah, right. I really can't picture Tomioka being romantic."

You smiled, leaning your head against Giyuu's shoulder in exaggerated love. "He planned a whole week off for our anniversary. Isn't that sweet?

Mitsuri, the eternal romantic, squealed in delight. "Oh, my goodness! That's so adorable! How long have you two been together? Why didn't we know this all this time?!"

"Well," you said, "Giyuu's good at keeping secrets."

By this time Giyuu's face was a deep crimson color. his ears almost burned with embarrassment. You knew he'd most likely scold you later for being so casual about letting it all spill out, but for the time being you enjoyed your fellow Hashira's reactions.

Rengoku, still smirking, crossed his arms. "Three years of marriage, eh? That's awesome! I'm shocked we never put two and two together. How long have you two been a couple?

"Since we were in our teens," you said matter-of-factly. "We went through quite a bit together. He was always there to support me, even when I wasn't yet a Hashira."

The smirk on Tengen's face spread further. "So, how does it feel being Mrs. Tomioka? Got to say, I'm kind of curious. He's got that stoic brooding vibe going on, but I'll bet he's different when it's just the two of you, huh?"

Your beamed, and you shot Giyuu a sly look. "I don't kiss and tell."

That made the rest burst into a fit of laughter, though Mitsuri turned to you dreamily. "That's so romantic. I just can't believe that you were married all along..."

Sanemi rolled his eyes. "Romantic? It's impossible."

You laughed, leaning into Giyuu just a bit more, earning a barely audible sigh from him. You could tell he was trying to hold it together despite the attention, and you knew he'd probably scold you later for making such a big deal out of it. But for now, you were having too much fun with the moment.

Ubuyashiki merely smiled at the both of you, his calm and collected demeanor accompanied by an understanding sheen in his eyes. "I hope the two of you enjoy your week off together. It's well deserved."

You nodded gratefully to him. "Thank you, Master Ubuyashiki.

The other Hashira were still talking when the meeting wrapped up, still apparently in a daze from your marriage bombshell. Mitsuri darted over to you the instant the meeting was finished, her face shining with excitement.

"I have so many questions! How did you two meet? Who confessed first? Oh, I bet Giyuu's so sweet when no one's looking, isn't he?"

You laughed, dodging her interrogative attack. "It's a long story, Mitsuri. Some other time, I'll tell you."

With that said, before you could utter another word, Giyuu silently got up, tugging lightly on your sleeve. "Let's go."

You followed him out of the meeting room, the eyes of the other Hashira seemingly still on you well after you left. When they were outside and far enough away from their prying gazes, Giyuu let out a long, exasperated sigh.

"You liked that, didn't you?" he asked, his voice low but his tone gentle instead of angry.

You smiled up at him, slipping your hand into his. "Maybe just a little. But come on, they were bound to find out eventually. It was kind of fun seeing their reactions."

Giyuu sighed again but didn't argue. Instead, he squeezed your hand gently, and his expression softened just a little. "I suppose it wasn't unbearable."

You laughed, leaning up to kiss his cheek. "See? I told you it'd be fine."

Giyuu said nothing, but the slight flush of his cheeks did the talking.

Do not copy, steal, modify use for AI, etc. Relogs and like are appreciated.

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#giyu x you #giyuu x fem!reader #giyu x fem!reader #giyuu fluff #tomioka giyuu x reader #giyuu x you #giyuu x reader #demon slayer x fem reader #demon slayer fluff #demon slayer x you #demon slayer x reader

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leascorner · 1 year ago

Text

b.b. | With child

Summary: He was so absorbed by his own created misery; he hadn’t actually thought about what you could be thinking. How hard was it for you to congratulate all of your friends on their pregnancy, to watch over all of his nieces and nephews? It was all within easy reach and never really yours.

Pairing: Benedict Bridgerton x f!reader

Warnings: angst ('cause I can't write anything else), alluding to sex (no description whatsoever), discussions around pregnancy, pregnancy, mention of alcohol.

Words Count: 2.1k

Author's Notes: Had this in the work for the longest time. I was actually thinking to publish it for his season (#4 I hope!). But we got new stills of Season 3 and it's nearly Valentine's Day so... Enjoy!

“Are you-” you asked when you noticed your sister-in-law had let her glass of wine and her plate untouched.

Your words stayed lost on your tongue, yet Daphne, sat in front of Benedict and next to you, knew exactly what you were about and nodded slightly, tears in her eyes. You let out a small cry of excitement and leant in to hug her. While you wore the most delighted expression, Benedict’s heart sunk a little at the news.

His sister was with child. Again. She was the second women of his family to be expecting this year, while he had yet an exciting news to share himself.

You both had wed a little over than a year and a half ago now and were yet to be blessed with a child. You were doing your best, of course, but none your efforts had been fruitful so far. Benedict did not mind; he had waited his whole life to meet you, he definitely could wait a little bit longer.

He did not mind, or so he thought…

Tonight, he thought life was particularly unfair to him. Every pregnancy announcement was only nourishing this harrowing feeling in his chest. All he could feel was his siblings’ bliss and it made him sick to the stomach. Yes, he was sick with jealousy - and ultimately selfish. He just couldn’t wait to feel your belly growing, to hold your children, to watch them playing around with their cousins, for them to grow older and become adults themselves. Just this simple thought made his very own heart felt extremely heavy.

Politely and quietly, he raised his glass wishing his sister a healthy pregnancy, before drinking away his sorrow.

The ride home that night was particularly quiet.

Silence had never been a thing between the two of you. Benedict was usually the most talkative, telling you about his days, about whatever painting he was going to paint, about that book he had been reading. You would listen, looking back at him with your big bright eyes and a soft smile onto your lips. Other times, he would watch you pacing back and forth in his study while passionately debating about politics. He would be drawing imaginary circles on your soft skin as you were lying in bed, you telling him about another one of your days chaperoning one of his sisters. He would listen to your laugh at one of his jokes. Even your fights would be followed by soft apologies, quiet words, whimpers, and love.

On the contrary, that night, the air was thick with something he couldn’t quite describe, and the coach was wrapped up in dark clouds, a genuine storm in the awakening. Sat on the opposite side, you were looking through the window, your face only light up by the few shines of the full moon. Benedict was so focused on his own thought that he didn’t realize you hadn’t had a word for the rest of the night.

He was so absorbed by his own created misery; he hadn’t actually thought about what you could be thinking. How hard was it for you to congratulate all of your friends on their pregnancy, to watch over all of his nieces and nephews? It was all within easy reach and never really yours. It only made him angrier at the entire world. Why couldn’t they let you live this as well?

He would have liked to discuss this with you - his regrets, his hope - but he was too afraid you would realize what a failure he was. How disappointed with him you were. How you would hate him for not being able to offer you this. So, he sat back in his seat and watched out of his own window.

When the coach stopped in front of your residence, Benedict got out first, offering his hand to help you getting down the small step like he always did. You smiled at him, thanking him politely, and let go of his hand as soon as your two feet were on the ground. It didn’t mean anything, he tried to reassure himself, you needed both of your hands to grab the tissue of your dress to prevent the hem from getting wet and dirty. Yet, he couldn’t help the sharp pain in his chest.

Silently, he followed you inside, hat in his hands, jaw locked. You were welcomed as usual by your housemaid, who got both of your coats and stayed there, in the uncomfortable silence, arms full, waiting for one of you to dismiss her. As you took off your gloves and didn’t dare look at Benedict, he nodded sharply to let her know she could go and watched her somehow disappear in an instant.

Suddenly, it was only the two of you again and it was all too much for him. He couldn’t breathe properly; his chest being crushed by the invisible weight of his sorrow. He couldn’t bare staying with you one more second. He needed to get out of here.

“Good night,” he said firmly, before walking to his study.

Would he have looked back he would have seen you watching him disappear in the corridor. You, all alone in the middle of the hall, arms dangling. He would have seen the frown on your face and the hurt in your eyes. Would he have looked back he would have run back to your side. Instead, he did none of that. He continued marching, head up high, trying to escape his own misery.

You sighed before turning in the opposite direction and to your shared bedroom.

Benedict went to bed less than an hour after you.

He had been haunted by guilt as soon as he had reached his study, sadness evaporating once he had stepped inside the room. Instead of turning back and chasing after you, he had tried to put his head in order. He then had tried painting whatever he was feeling, but he could only stay in front of his white canvas, terrified of laying his brush on the cotton. He had tried writing it, but he couldn’t concentrate enough; his thoughts always drifting to you, alone in your bedroom. He had then settled on having a drink to wait long enough for you to fall asleep before he could go to bed - his other option would have been to sleep in his study if he got too drunk, which he did not.

He had thought long about the whole situation. It wasn’t like you were not trying. Sometimes, even with doing the right things, it didn’t happen. He would need to accept this. And he couldn’t continue being a terrible husband. It wasn’t your fault; it wasn’t anybody’s fault actually. What he knew more than anything though was that he loved you. Whatever would happen, he could not afford to lose you.

He had decided he would come clean tomorrow, but for now, he only wanted to sleep with you by his side.

In the dark of your room, Benedict undressed and lied besides you as silently as possible.

All he could hear was your uneven breathing; whatever dream you were having did not seem to be pleasant. He reached out to your arm, hoping that you could feel his presence through his touch and know he would always be there for you.

It wasn’t until your body was rocked by a hiccup that he understood that you were not having a bad dream, you were crying.

“Y/N?” he asked, lying on his side to face your back.

“I am so sorry,” your voice was only a whisper.

He gently made you roll on your side. Even in the dark, his right hand was able to find your face and his thumb to rub the tears away. Before he could ask what was wrong, you spoke:

“I am so-” You chocked on – yet – another sob and it took you a couple of seconds to even out your breathing so you could speak properly: “So sorry- for not being able to get you- get you what you ever wanted.”

“My love,” he sighed, grabbing the back of your neck to bring you closer. Instinctively, you hide your face in his chest, and he started stroking your hair to try and calm you. “My love, do not ever feel guilty on this.”

“I have tried every tea, every method that is supposed to help,” you cried some more.

It broke his heart to realize the burden on your heart - of course, if he was feeling it, you would have too. He finally understood how selfish he had been, how centred on his own pain he was and so oblivious to yours. It had never been a subject between the two of you, but it was slowly crushing you both.

“My love, this is not your fault.”

“You don’t see the pity in their eyes. You don’t hear them whisper.” You sniffled against his chest, arms wrapped around his waist. “We are even blessed Lady Whistletown has not written about us.” He heard the frustration in your voice and the ton of it made him understand how you had tried to suppress the guilt but failed. It pained him that out of all of this, it was you who were the one being charged guilty by everyone - you included. As if you couldn’t imagine it being his own fault. As if you couldn’t imagine it being anyone’s fault but yours.

“Perhaps, I-” he stopped, running a hand through his hair out of frustration. “I drink loads of Colin’s stupid tea; I paint with all sorts of chemicals substance. Perhaps, I can’t-”

“Ben, of course, no!”

“Perhaps we won’t ever-” he confessed, but he couldn’t even say it out loud. It was all too much.

You moved against him, and he felt both of your hands grabbing his face, your forehead resting again his. He felt your hot breath against his skin, and he hugged you tighter, crushing your bones, making sure you were close.

He had you, he kept repeating himself. It was all that mattered. Of course, it was a dear wish of his to see mini versions of yourselves running around, but not at all costs. He wasn’t willing to sacrifice what you both had, right here, right now.

“We are both healthy, it is more than all I could ever wish for.”

“Will this ever be enough for you, though?” you asked so quietly he nearly did not hear you.

Benedict frowned. Was it really what you thought? That he would leave you? That your own self was not enough for him? He had been an even more terrible husband he had thought to lead you thinking this. He had failed you on so many levels.

“I was so absorbed by my own desire of having my own family,” he whispered back like he was telling you a secret, “I never asked if you also desire to have children of your own.”

“Ben, of course, I want your children!”

Benedict wanted to express how grateful he was to have you in his life, but no words came to his mind at that moment. He only reached out to your lips, trying to express how much he loved you.

If he could not tell you, he could still show you…

Hours later, while you were lying in bed, your head on Benedict’s chest, his left hand drawing invisible love words on your back and the other holding you close, he thought that there was nothing else he would like to do than stay with you, like this, forever.

“We should just take some time away from here.”

“What do you mean? The season only began-”

“To hell with worldliness. Some time away, just the two of us.” The sun was slowly peeking through the blinds, its yellow light was painting on your naked skin a glowy spectrum. “I heard South of France is particularly beautiful, this time of the year.”

Your chin on his chest, you looked back at him, eyes bright. He was looking at you the same way you had catch him do a million time: a soft smile on his lips, his eyes filled of this spark, shinning only for you. You didn’t care how beautiful France would be, he was the most beautiful view you had ever laid eyes on.

His hand brushed some hair out of your face, and you grabbed it to kiss his knuckles.

“France, it is then.”

Little did you know, you would be coming back home a few months later, bearing your own little miracle.

One of the many to come.

#benedict bridgerton x reader #benedict bridgerton x you #benedict bridgerton x y/n #benedict bridgerton x fem!reader #benedict bridgerton #benedict bridgerton imagine #bridgerton x reader #bridgerton x you #bridgerton x y/n #bridgerton x female reader #lea's writing #benedict bridgerton fanfiction

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the-thing-inside-your-closet · 7 months ago

Text

Danny and Ellie are forced to flee Amity Park. And find themselves in Coast City.

I started writing this with the intention of only writing a short prompt, but then I just kept going until I felt like I’d written enough.

Danny gets caught up in yet another fight with Skulker, only this time it wasn’t because Skulker had come for Danny. No. He’d come for Ellie. And she was already weak from fleeing the GIW who had shot at her the moment she arrived in Amity Park.

Whether Skulker is after Ellie for Vlad, or because he wants her pelt can be up to you.

Either way, he manages to beat Skulker and captures him in the thermos. Just as he lets out a long sigh of relief he hears the sound of an ecto-gun being fired and then his side is burning and he’s falling. He’s falling too fast and it hurts and he can’t stop-

Danny guys the ground hard. His head is spinning, his skin feels like it’s burning, and he can hear the stomping of feet as someone runs towards him.

He needs to get up. He needs to get away. Find Ellie and make sure she’s safe. He’s needs to MOVE- but he can’t. Black spots for his vision as he manages to stand up and his eyes meet the end of his mother’s gun.

Before anyone can speak, he’s falling again, handing face first in the dirt. And the familiar feeling of de-transforming washes over him.

The last thing he hears before loosing consciousness is the grief stricken sound of his parent’s voice as three voices shout in unison.

“OH MY GOD DANNY!”

“DANNY ARE YOU OKAY?!”

“NO, GET AWAY FROM HIM!”

When Danny wakes up again, he’s in his room, the curtains are drawn but he can see the sliver of sunlight pouring in through the gap underneath. He notes that his body aches, but not as much as usual after a fight like that. And there’s a warmth enveloping his hand. It’s soothing, and he almost considers going back to sleep when he notices that there’s a ghost in the room. And all too fast he’s sitting up and staring into the exhausted, red, puffy eyes of his mother looking back at him from where she’s sitting holding his hand in hers.

Just behind her he sees Ellie floating just above the ground talking quietly with his dad.

“Danny,” his mother’s voice draws his attention along with Jack and Ellie’s. “How are you feeling, sweetheart? Are you in any pain?”

He didn’t notice when she’d helped him to lay back down again. “Do you need anything? Ellie here was just telling us about how regular pain medication doesn’t work as well for the two of you. But I’m sure we could find something for you that might-”

“Mom,” Danny rasps. Man his throat was dry.

As if reading him mind Ellie appears by his mother’s side holding out a glass of water with a straw in it. Maddie helps Danny to sit up a little more so he can drink.

“Mom,” he tries again, sounding better this time, “I’m okay. I promise. It’s not that bad!” He starts to lie as the panic sets in. He de-transformed in front of them. He knows he did. And the fear shows on his face, it must, because before he can even begin trying to think up an excuse his mother is crying.

“Oh Danny, it’s okay. We know. And we’re not angry at you. We love you. So much.”

And Danny’s heart swells at hearing it. “You don’t hate me for being Phantom?” He asks quietly.

“No! We could never hate you Dann-o!” His dad’s cheery tone doesn’t disguise the sadness and guilt etched into his face. “We’re just…so sorry that we never noticed before. And that we…” he can’t finish his sentence but he doesn’t need to. Danny already knows what he’s apologise for.

“I’m okay. I promise. I heal fast!” Danny tied to reassure them.

It seems to help a little, though his parents still have a grim look in their eyes. As they make connections in just how Danny would know that about himself.

And Ellie, with perfect timing to cut the tension, announces happily, “Danny! Good news! Your parents said I could stay with you!”

Ellie had told his parents while Danny was unconscious about being his clone. She saw how they fretted over Danny, cleaning and dressing his injuries with the love and care she only imagined from a parent that truly loves you. And they had accepted her almost right away. Jack even crying as he proudly declared himself a father of three.

Jack soon excused himself, saying he’ll go see if Jazz needs any help with cooking lunch. Danny and his mother share a look, and with a final kiss to his head says she’ll go make sure nothing gets brought back to life. And she asks Ellie to please make sure Danny stays in bed and rests.

Danny and Ellie are left alone in his room, and it gives Danny the chance to really revel in everything. His parents accept him. They love him, both sides of him. And they accepted Ellie too! And said she can stay! She doesn’t have to be alone anymore.

Now, a lot can happen in the span of a few seconds, let alone minutes. In the time it took for Maddie to reach the kitchen, their front door was kicked down and a group of GIW agents had stormed in demanding they hand over the ectoplasmic scum they were harbouring.

Jack and Maddie drew their weapons and planted themselves directly in front of the GIW agents. The agents state that a ghost shield was put up around the house to prevent any ghosts from escaping, and by law any ghosts within the premises were ti be handed over for destruction immediately. Jazz runs upstairs to Danny’s room to warn them that the GIW were inside the house and that they needed to run. They need to get to the portal NOW.

With all the authority of an older sister Jazz tells Ellie to grab the go bag Danny had insisted on having prepared, and picks Danny up despite his protests that he could walk. Or well, fly. Ellie turns them all invisible and intangible and takes them down to the lab.

They can hear the sound of shouting, and something breaking and a gun being fired all coming from upstairs as Jazz opens the portal for Danny and Ellie.

Another shot rings out. And then another, and more shouting.

“Quickly you two need to go!”

Another shot.

“Aren’t you coming with us?” Danny, now Phantom, asks suddenly as he and Ellie are preparing to enter the Ghost Zone.

Two more shots.

“Someone needs to be here to deactivate the portal in case the guys in white make it down here. I’ll be fine. Mom and dad will be okay, they’re not here for us so you two need to go. Now!” There’s banging on the lab’s door and Jazz shoves both Danny and Ellie into the portal. The last thing Danny hears before the portal closes behind them is another shot being fired.

Danny is scared and angry as he and Ellie are forced to fly through the zone with no currently known way to get back to his family. He needs to make sure they’re okay. He needs to protect them.

But right now Danny is still hurt, and he needs to get himself and Ellie somewhere safe. They begin to slowly make their way through the zone, looking for somewhere to rest and avoiding any ghosts that might want to pick a fight.

Ellie isn’t sure how long she and Danny have been moving for. It feels like it could have been days, or hours, or even minutes. But Danny can’t fly as quickly right now. He’s trying to keep a brave face for Ellie’s sake but she can see the exhaustion beginning to take hold of him.

So Ellie makes the executive decision to touch down somewhere to rest. She tells Danny she’s tired. Danny knows she isn’t and it’s only because she’s worried and wants him to rest. So he goes along with it and they make their way to the next floating island they come across and thank the ancients it’s empty. The two halfas touch down and Danny slumps over as he sits against a nearby rock. Ellie pulls out some energy bars that were tucked away in the go bag and hands one over to Danny.

They do this a few times, stopping to rest, as they gradually make their way to the Far Frozen. Ellie had insisted on going there, Frostbite would know what to do, and he would be able to help Danny with his injuries that had started bleeding again in all the commotion of escaping, and then flying and hiding from ghosts known to attack Danny regularly.

But unfortunately luck is not on their side yet again as a natural portal rips open directly in front of them, and closes behind them after spitting them out in a city they didn’t recognise.

That’s how Danny and Ellie find themselves in Coast City, hiding out in an old warehouse by the docs while Danny heals and they figure out how they’re going to get back home.

That is, until now.

Danny stares up at his little sister and sighs with the resigned tone of an exasperated older sibling.

“Ellie,” he takes a breath, “what did you do?”

“I’m my defence,” Ellie glares up at Green Lantern, who has Ellie scruffed by the back of her hoodie, before looking back at Danny, “I simply do not vibe with the law.”

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thanosspills · 25 days ago

Text

LIVING WITH "TEAM THANOS"

after the third game, the X's win and you reunite with the friends you made in the games.

Now that the games have ended, all of the players are spread out in the dorms waiting to depart. You sit with your new-found friend group on the stairs as you guys have a group discussion about your futures.

Now bonded with no where else to go, everyone agrees to put their money together and rent out a comfortable place to live.

Characters: Se-mi/player 380, Thanos/player 230, Nam-gyu/player 124, Min-su/player 125, Gyeong-su/player 256

This is what it's like to live with each of them! Slight headcannons

Pretty light hearted and silly, nothing too serious.

Fem!reader x Choi Su-bong (kinda)

Reader is dating Thanos because I couldn't resist sorry <3

Warnings: Slightly suggestive/NSFW things mentioned, drug usage, drinking

YOU + THANOS

You and Thanos got really close in the games and have been inseparable since. The two of you share the larger bedroom and are PDA all over the house. Making out in the kitchen, on the couch when everyones hanging out, he'll slap/grope your ass at random, grab your hips when you're facing away from him, etc etc.

Everytime the PDA starts, Nam-gyu just rolls his eyes and tries to ignore it. During movie night when you and Thanos take your attention away from what you're watching to suck face, Se-mi throws a pillow at you two and scoffs, "Get a room nymphos." Min-su will awkwardly look the other way, and Gyeong-su is just always oblivious, continuing to laugh at the movie, never noticing in general.

ALSOO during movie night Thanos always hogs the communal couch blanket. Even from you.

Don't get me started on how loud the two of you are in bed. Thanos gives no fucks, he'll be as vocal and rough as he wants and he'll bring it out of you. Since Thanos loves to be chatty during sex, you'll occasionally get Nam-gyu yelling at you two to "SHUT THE FUCK UP!" from downstairs. Of course, you and Thanos always just laugh it off and keep going. The next morning you guys get ganged up on and teased by the other four, Gyeong-su mocking Thanos's dirty talk,

"You guys need to be quiet, I'm tired of hearing Thanos moan 'senõrita' at 2 in the morning."

Thanos uses your guys's room as the house's studio, inviting the others in to rap/produce with him. Min-su and Se-mi never participate, they just sit on the bed, snack with you, and watch.

You always have to clean up after Thanos. He'll kick his shoes off in the most random places, leave clothes on the floor, food at his desk, etc.

Thanos will freestyle about whatever everyones doing in the present moment, like at game night, Nam-su is drawing two So he ain't got no Uno I bet that dude regrets picking yellow I'm rooting for my lil boy Min-su Wild card his ass, bro!

Thanos always announces his presence as soon as he gets home. He'll shout, "GUYSSSSS!" right when he walks in the door.

Thanos doesn't consider boundaries at all. He'll randomly barge into everyones room without knocking and ask if they wanna go somewhere with him even if it's late as fuck.

You two are probably the most difficult to deal with in terms of bringing pure chaos to the household, but you guys also bring the most fun.

MIN-SU

Min-su is usually the first person awake, but when he sleeps in he gets aggressively woken up by the boys. He's also the little rag-doll of the group, always getting playfully pushed around. Se-mi will yell at the boys to fuck off but they mean well, it's just the special treatment Min-su gets.

He's seen as the little brother by everyone but he's honestly the most put-together.

He's tried to bring in stray cats multiple times, Nam-gyu immediately says hell no, something him and Se-mi rarely agree on.

Really enjoys hanging out with each person in their rooms one on one but hardly invites himself in, he usually waits to be told he's welcome to hang.

Needs sound to fall asleep so he actually doesn't mind the chaotic late nights in the house. It's good background noise and oddly makes him feel safe.

He helped you and Se-mi decorate a bit, mainly just contributed plants that he's attached to and takes good care of.

Always picks a romantic k-drama on movie night and falls asleep first.

Secretly loves how much he gets under Nam-gyu's skin during game nights, Min-su ends up winning more then anyone else.

He doesn't touch the drugs Thanos and Nam-gyu do but he will drink with the group. He's still composed when he's drunk but he laughs at everything and cracks everyone else up in the process.

When everyones up late and hungry he'll volunteer to go get snacks from the gas station for everyone.

NAM-GYU

Comes home at like 3 am after promoting clubs, if you and Thanos are awake your guy's room is the first place he goes. He'll sit in Thanos's gaming chair and talk to you two about the crazy shit that happened with the junkies at work. Nam-gyu is still a user, after the games him and Thanos have calmed down a bit on the drugs but will occasionally pop pills for fun, you occasionally join.

Goes with Min-su on his late night gas station runs for the house so he can, "make sure he doesn't get himself killed."

Doesn't really cook or clean because he's usually out, but when he comes back home he contributes with beer and will randomly throw a new, freshly packaged fruity vape at Thanos, surprising him with it.

Nam-gyu always fucks with Min-su during game nights, he's super competitive. Min-su's nonchalant attitude about winning really gets under his skin. He takes every board game very seriously and hardly wins, but when he does win you're not hearing the end of it.

Asks everyone to go to the club so he can see you guys while he's working. He sneaks you guys free drinks on a tab and hangs out as soon as he's off.

He asked Se-mi to pierce his ears for him and freaked out and complained the whole time. It took 45 minutes for her to do both ears.

Occasionally brings girls home but he's very secretive about it, no one sees them come in or leave.

SE-MI

Se-mi does most of the chores because she doesn't trust anyone else to do them right, defiently the big sister of the household.

Only asks you and Min-su to go run errands with her, she doesn't wanna put up with the others, "Hurry, let's go before the idiots notice we're leaving."

She always tells Min-su to stay away from the drugs. If Thanos and Nam-gyu are on them and are acting a little too crazy she'll go and hangout with Min-su in his room or take him out of the house to go for a walk or get food.

She'll hangout with you in the bathroom and play music while you get ready to go to work.

She cooks for everyone and really enjoys it but acts like she doesn't.

She'll get Thanos and Gyeong-su happy meals when she stops at McDonald's for everyone.

Likes to argue, she'll debate Nam-gyu on his shitty takes on the movie you guys are all watching.

Her room always has music playing softly, like Min-su she needs noise to feel comfortable.

She's the organizer behind most of the little group hangouts.

If she finds a bug/spider in the house she'll pick it up with a napkin and chase Nam-gyu and Thanos around with it, Thanos squeals in terror and Nam-gyu shouts, "SE-MI BACK THE FUCK UP IT'S NOT FUNNY!" Gyeong-su giggles like a little kid while he follows Se-mi as she chases them around.

GYEONG-SU

Gyeong-su likes to play obnoxious rap music on the TV at max volume so everyone can hear it.

He raps around the house trying to replicate Thanos but he's honestly just not good and no one has the heart to tell him.

Tries to brag to everyone at work saying, "Yeah, the rapper Thanos is my roommate." but none of his coworkers care.

Gyeong-su is super lightweight, he always ends up the drunkest whether you guys are just drinking at home or clubbing. He hurts himself a lot when he's inebriated but it's nothing too serious, just tripping and running into walls. He'll come home and fall asleep on the couch or the floor and everyone else just leaves him there until he wakes up the next morning.

Super loud on his video games at night, he invites everyone to his room to watch him play and hangout. He lowkey secretly dreams of being a famous streamer.

Asks Se-mi to make food for him at like 2 in the morning.

Gyeong-su typically doesn't like going out alone so he begs each member of the group to go with him to do something, even if it's simple like walking to the store or picking up a prescription. If someone says no, he's knocking on the next persons bedroom door. He always asks for you and Thanos's advice on what to wear before he meets up with a girl or goes out.

YAYY that's it! I hope you guys liked it, I love team Thanos with my whole heart and I wanted to write something cute for them :) Let me know what you think!

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luveline · 1 year ago

Note

bEGGING for something with the marauders with drunk reader at a halloween party!!! make it literally anything you want follow ur heart ily and ur writing is AMAZING!!!!

thank you, ily ♡ modern au, fem

The rugby uniform felt like a funny idea at the time, but now you're cold and wondering how James manages to stay warm when he plays. You must ask him.

He sits on the couch with Remus and another friend, Frank. You like Frank but he's not one of your boys, leaving you no options —you have to slide yourself between Remus and James, emphasis on have to. Remus touches your waist unthinkingly as you do, like he might catch you if you fell.

James is ecstatic to see you as always. "Where have you been? I was about to send out the search party."

He's been very, very pleased with you upon the reveal of your costume. Like, pleased enough to take a handful of your thigh and squeeze at the soft inner part greedily. You lean back into Remus, enjoying the feeling and wanting his comfort. He's used to it, and he adapts by pressing his face indulgently to the side of your head.

You giggle. This is usually a nice feeling, but drunk? You're euphoric.

"You can't stray too far, lovely, I need my victim," Remus says.

"Where have your fangs gone?" you ask, pointing at your neck. "I made the bite mark so perfect. Everyone will think I have rabies if you don't commit."

James laughs like you're hilarious. Later, you'll find out that you didn't quite say every word that you thought you said, and that you'd been slurring your words into one another to create Frankenstein's sentences.

"Everybody already thinks you have rabies," James says. He's wearing a chef's costume from a show he likes, a white shirt that's sleeves strain against his biceps and a blue apron. Sirius spent an hour drawing tattoos into his brown skin with a sharpie. "That's why we've decided to put you down."

"I'll have one last night of passion with her first, if you don't mind," Sirius says, announcing his presence.

You like the sound of that, lifting yourself away from the other two boys and their touches to take Sirius' fine hands. He's in a button up and tie, the sticker on his chest proudly proclaiming, Hello, my name is: Dave.

"You're here to kiss me, right?" you ask.

Sirius grins and presses a quick kiss to the corner of your mouth. "My little alcoholic, you smell like lambrini. What did we say about lambrini?"

"Uh, that it makes me sloppy drunk."

"Exactly!" He kisses your cheek, working an arm around your shoulder as though showing you off with pride to the other boys. "My darling, you're so smart."

"Not that smart, she still drank the lambrini."

"Remus, don't start," Sirius admonishes. "You just hate that she chooses me when she's drunk."

"You're her enabler," James says, "of course she does. But before she was drunk she chose to dress as me for Halloween, so if anyone is the favourite–"

"Oh, please don't start," Remus says.

The boys start, arguing over who your favourite is. It's a silly pass time with no real merit but no malice, either, and you're just drunk enough to goad them on. "Maybe Remus should be my favourite. After all, he's my vampire. Our love is, like, eternal."

The furrowed brow he gets whenever the other two boys debate slips. "It's so eternal," he says, nodding confidently. "Quite right, dove."

"Eternal doesn't mean better."

"Then what does it mean, Sirius?"

You decide that James' lap looks comfortable and that you might be here for a long time, so you push his legs down flat and sit carefully (not very carefully in reality, but in your heart) on his thighs, socked feet pulled up onto the couch, sideways and skewiff in his company.

"Well, obvious winner," James says, encompassing your back with a big arm, pulling you into him. Under his hand your shoulders feel like a more delicate system; you aren't necessarily small, but his touch feels so everywhere, a pervasive feeling of safety and comfort in the palm of his hand where it grasps you.

"You have the more comfortable seat," Sirius says nonchalantly. "It means nothing."

Remus pulls one of your socks up where it's slipping down your calf and Sirius interrupts the arguing to ask if you need a glass of water. You don't have favourites. They're each incredibly lovely in their own way.

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angelofthenight01 · 1 month ago

Text

Truth Serum

Natasha Romanoff x Reader

genre: flufy || warnings: none

It all started, as these things often do, with a seemingly straightforward mission. Infiltrate a HYDRA base, retrieve some stolen tech, don't get captured, the usual. You were pretty confident, you'd been training with the Avengers for a while now, holding your own, even earning a few nods of respect from Captain America himself. You weren't exactly a superhero, more of a very skilled and adaptable support member, but hey, it paid the bills and got you close to, well... certain people.

You remember the moment the serum hit you. It wasn't dramatic, no needles, no villainous laughter. Just a rogue vial – accidentally knocked off a table by a HYDRA goon who tripped over his own feet, a testament to their competence – and its contents splashed right onto your cheek. It didn't taste like anything, but a second later you could swear you felt your brain doing the cha-cha.

"Are you alright?" Tony's voice was crisp over the comms. You knew he was watching the feed from his suit.

“Peachy,” you said, your voice surprisingly calm, even as the world around you started to look a little too vibrant. “Just feeling a bit… honest.”

“Honest?” Steve’s voice now chimed in with that trademark wholesome concern. "What do you mean?"

"Oh, you know,” you found yourself saying, “like, if you asked me if I liked the way the light caught your hair this morning, I’d say yes, Steve, you’re like a walking, talking golden retriever of justice and your hair is always perfectly coiffed. Sorry, am I oversharing?”

A beat of silence followed, punctuated only by the sharp crackling of your boots on the steel floor of the HYDRA base.

"Uh, thanks?" Steve said hesitantly.

“And Tony,” you continued, unable to stop the runaway train of your mouth, “your sarcasm is a coping mechanism, and sometimes it's a little predictable, but you're actually really good at inventing things, even if you pretend to hate trying.”

You could hear Tony sputter in disbelief. Before he could recover, you spotted your quarry – the tech – in a nearby room. And then you saw her. Natasha Romanoff, a whirlwind of controlled fury and ballet-like movements, expertly disarming guards left and right. Everything suddenly seemed… brighter. And also terrifying. Because, of course, the truth serum also seemed to have activated your inner monologue on high volume.

"Oh, damn it," you muttered, your voice still broadcasting. "You're so cool, Natasha, your hair looks amazing, are those tactical boots because you can be both deadly and elegant and it's totally not fair. I also think... I think..." You clamped your mouth shut.

There was a sudden, sharp intake of breath over the comms. You could practically feel Natasha's gaze burning through the screen and directly into your soul.

"Alright," Natasha said, her voice silky smooth, but with a definite hint of something dangerous lurking beneath. "You’ve had your moment. Let's finish this."

And that’s when you realised that you had a very, very big problem. You had a mission to finish, sure, but you also had to not reveal your crush on the world's most deadly spy. You could picture it now, if you even let a hint touch your tongue, it would be all over the tower, Tony would create a song about it, and Clint would laugh and draw cartoons of you in love struck positions.

You moved with newfound urgency, grabbing the tech and bolting for the nearest exit.

“I’m just gonna, uh, take this and go now,” you announced, “Gotta avoid... uh... social interactions. Bye!”

You broke into a run, your boots thundering on the metal floor, the comms going silent as everyone processed what had just happened. You could hear footsteps behind you, and you didn't need to look back to know who was trying to catch up to you.

You burst out of the HYDRA base into the cold night air, not caring where you were going, just knowing you needed to get away from Natasha. You sprinted across the snowy landscape, your breath puffing in white clouds.

Then, you hit a patch of ice.

You went down, hard, landing in a comical heap with a muffled oof.

“Are you alright?” Steve’s concerned voice came over the comms, making you groan.

“No,” you whined. “I just busted my butt. Also, I think I need to be honest with you all about the way I prefer to put my butter on my toast, and it’s not the way you would imagine, it’s much more…”

You cut yourself off before you could launch into a detailed explanation of your highly unorthodox buttering techniques. You scramble to your feet, wincing.

“I think I need to go home now!” you shouted, then took off running again, stumbling over the uneven snow.

“Wait!” Natasha’s voice called out from behind you again. Closer this time.

“No!” you yelled back. “I can’t, if I’m not running away, I’ll probably tell you I think you’re amazing and all of the romantic feelings I have for you and then you’ll get weirded out and it’s just, a whole thing!”

You didn’t wait for a response, diving behind a large snowdrift. You could hear Natasha’s footsteps pause, a beat of silence followed, and then you heard a sigh.

You peeked over the top of the snow drift, and saw the figure that was Natasha, hands on hips, a look of fond exasperation on her face. It made your heart do a little flip of emotion.

"Okay, fine," Natasha called out, "I'll give you some space. But you're not getting out of this conversation without explaining all that 'buttering' talk later. And your feelings." She added the last bit in a soft voice.

You ducked back down, a blush creeping up your neck. You could hear laughter coming through the comms this time, Tony, Clint and Steve having a field day. You might have also heard Thor laughing way too loud, then suddenly a deep growl, and then silence.

You knew you couldn't hide forever. But for tonight, you decided, you'd take your chances with the arctic wind over the truth serum and the very attractive woman currently stalking you.

For now, your escape was enough. You would deal with the awkward, heartfelt, and hopefully not too embarrassing aftermath tomorrow. But tonight? Tonight you are just a very honest person with a severe case of avoidance and a very big crush. And that’s something, right?

#natasha romanoff x reader #natasha romanoff #black widow x reader #black widow

425 notes · View notes

kaiyunsim · 29 days ago

Text

best lover —

pairing : bf!taesan x gn!reader

summary : after taesan works hard for the newest comeback you wanted to get him a gift... something perfect. but you don't know what exactly to get him so you get help from his roommate.

warnings : fluff, angst (just a little bit), tense confrontation, some music references, taesan gets kinda jealous, kind of a continuation of this fic

a/n : this lowkey made me relapse into the emo/punk genre and now i'm actively listening to them again ! taesan so silly here.

queueing : best lover - bibi, and july - heize + dean

[requested]

— wc : 4.8k — not proof read —

you’ve always known taesan was cool.

not in the tryhard way, not in the way people force an image to seem untouchable. no, he’s effortlessly cool. the kind of cool that comes from simply existing, from being so unapologetically himself that it draws people in.

his aesthetic is proof of that—dark clothes, silver rings, an ever-growing collection of band tees that he claims aren’t a collection but still seem to multiply every time you see him. his playlists are filled with gritty guitar riffs and melancholic lyrics, songs that feel like they belong in a coming-of-age film.

you love it. you love the way he leans against walls like a movie character, the way his fingers tap out drum beats on tables when he’s lost in thought. the way his voice gets softer when he talks about music, when he lets his guard down just enough for you to see the warmth underneath.

so, when their comeback is finally announced, when you see the hours of training, late-night rehearsals, and exhaustion culminate into something incredible, you know you need to do something. something that says, i see you. i see how hard you’ve worked, and i’m proud of you.

but what do you get someone like taesan?

he’s never been the type to want extravagant gifts. he shrugs off praise, mumbles “it’s nothing” when people tell him he’s done well. but you know he keeps every little note fans give him, that he still has the random trinkets the members bought him over the years.

so it has to be something personal. something that actually means something.

you think about it for days, running through ideas in your head. clothes? no, too easy. he already has everything he likes. accessories? maybe, but he’s picky, and you don’t trust yourself to pick out something he’d actually wear.

and then it hits you.

vinyls.

taesan loves music in a way that’s deeper than just listening. he collects records, always talking about how certain albums sound different on vinyl, how the warmth and crackle make it feel more alive. you’ve seen the way he runs his fingers over the covers, the way he carefully places them on his turntable like he’s handling something sacred.

but you don’t know enough about it.

you know the bands he listens to, sure, but not the specific pressings, not which editions are worth having, not which ones he’s been searching for. you need help.

so, you text the only person who would know and would be the most help.

sungho.

—

you: hey, random question, but do you think you could help me with something?

he replies almost immediately.

sungho: depends. am i gonna regret saying yes?

you snort. typical.

you: no, it’s for taesan. i wanna get him some vinyls, but i don’t know which ones he’d actually want.

a pause. then—

sungho: oh. you’re going ot make him a happy boyfriend for sure. sungho: yeah, i can help. you free tomorrow?

relief washes over you.

you: yeah. thanks, sungho. seriously.

sungho: don’t thank me yet. wait till we actually find something good.

you smile, pocketing your phone.

this is a good plan. a perfect plan.

now, you just have to keep it a secret.

the next morning, you wake up with a nervous excitement buzzing under your skin.

taesan is still half-asleep when you see him, his hair messy from sleep, the collar of his oversized shirt slipping down one shoulder. he looks soft like this, different from his usual sharp edges and guarded expressions.

“morning,” you say, pressing a quick kiss to his cheek before he can grumble in protest.

he mumbles something incoherent, eyes still closed, before reaching out and lazily wrapping an arm around your waist, pulling you closer.

you laugh, poking his side. “i have to go out for a bit.”

that wakes him up a little. his eyes blink open, groggy but alert. “where?”

you freeze for half a second before forcing yourself to play it cool. “just running errands.”

his brow furrows slightly, but he doesn’t question it. instead, he just tightens his grip around you for a moment before letting go.

“be safe,” he mumbles, voice still thick with sleep.

your heart squeezes at that.

you brush his hair out of his face, letting your fingers linger for a second longer than necessary. “always.”

—

meeting up with sungho feels like a mission.

he’s already waiting outside the taesan's dorm room, dressed casually but still effortlessly put together, a stark contrast to the slightly chaotic energy you’re bringing with you.

“you look nervous,” he says, amused.

“because i am.”

he raises an eyebrow. “it’s just vinyl shopping.”

“yeah, but it’s for taesan,” you stress. “i can’t mess this up. i need to find something perfect.”

sungho rolls his eyes but leads the way inside the vinyl store, hidden in the corners of the busy streets.

the moment you step in, you’re overwhelmed.

rows and rows of records stretch out in front of you, organized into sections you barely understand. the store smells like old paper and something nostalgic, a quiet hum of music playing from the speakers.

sungho glances at you. “you know what bands he likes, right?”

you nod. “yeah, but i don’t know what he already has.”

“then we start with the basics.”

he guides you through the aisles, pointing out albums that fit taesan’s taste. some are obvious bands you’ve seen on his playlists, artists you recognize from the posters in his room. others, not so much.

“this one’s a classic,” sungho says, pulling out a worn-looking album. “he’s mentioned it before, i think he even has a t-shirt of them.”

it was the black parade by my chemical romance

you take it from him, running your fingers over the cover. “do you think he already has the vinyl?”

sungho shakes his head. “nah, he would’ve bragged about it if he did.”

you smile at that. taesan isn’t the bragging type, not really, but when it comes to things he loves, he can’t help but share them with you. you can already picture the way his eyes will light up when he sees the gift, the way he’ll trace the album cover with careful fingers before hugging you in that quiet, deliberate way of his.

this is good. this is exactly what you wanted.

you glance at sungho. “i think we’re on the right track.”

he smirks. “told you.”

you roll your eyes but can’t hide your grin.

this is going to be perfect.

if you can keep it a secret long enough.

you flip through the stacks carefully, the plastic sleeves crinkling under your fingertips as you skim the selection. rows of album covers stare back at you, some bold and vibrant, others muted and mysterious, each one a different piece of someone’s story.

sungho stands beside you, already pulling out records with ease, flipping them over to check editions and pressings like it’s second nature.

“how do you even know all this?” you ask, watching as he inspects a black-and-white cover, his eyes narrowing slightly before he shakes his head and puts it back.

he smirks. “taesan’s not the only one with taste, you know.”

you roll your eyes. “yeah, but you act like this is your second home.”

he hums, running his fingers along the edge of a shelf. “it kinda is. when i first moved into the dorms, i’d come to places like this just to kill time. got to know a lot about music that way.”

that makes sense. sungho has that effortless, older-brother energy, the kind that makes you feel like he’s always been one step ahead of everyone else. but even so, you know there’s more to it. something about the way he says it, like music was a comfort rather than just a hobby.

you glance down at the album in your hands. the artwork is dramatic, painted in deep reds and blacks, the kind of thing you could easily imagine taesan leaving out on his desk just because it looks cool. it was titled a fever you can’t sweat out this time, by panic at the disco

you hesitate. “what about this one?”

sungho looks over, and to your relief, he nods in approval. “solid pick. taesan likes them. they have that whole raw, gritty sound he’s into.”

you exhale, setting it aside in the growing pile of vinyls you’ve picked out. “good. i was kinda guessing.”

sungho snickers. “if you were completely guessing, you would’ve picked something embarrassing.”

you give him a flat look. “i wouldn’t do that.”

“you sure? no boyband vinyls hidden in that stack?”

“why are you acting like that would be a crime?”

he laughs, shaking his head. “nah, but taesan would probably combust.”

you grin at the thought. he probably would. his whole tough, brooding image crumbling the second someone dared to associate him with anything remotely bright and upbeat. you’ve teased him about it before, played pop songs in his presence just to watch him pretend he wasn’t listening.

but this isn’t about teasing him. this is about him.

you glance around the store, taking in the dim lighting, the faint sound of a record spinning in the background. a few other customers linger nearby, flipping through vinyls with the same careful reverence, but none of them seem rushed. it’s the kind of place taesan would get lost in, taking his time with every shelf, soaking in the atmosphere.

you wish he was here.

you shake the thought away before it can settle too deep.

“okay,” you say, straightening up. “i think i need at least one more.”

sungho scans the shelves before reaching over and pulling out a record without hesitation.

“this.”

you take it from him, studying the cover. it’s striking… american idiot by greenday.

“he’s been looking for this one,” sungho explains. “i remember him complaining about how it’s always out of stock.”

your chest warms. “then that’s perfect.”

sungho grins. “congrats, you officially have a good gift… or multiple”

you roll your eyes but can’t help but smile. “thanks for the approval.”

“anytime.”

you head to the counter, placing the records down carefully as the cashier rings them up. the prices make you wince a little. vinyl collecting is not cheap. but you don’t hesitate. taesan is worth it.

when you step back outside, the air feels cooler, a slight breeze brushing against your skin. sungho stretches beside you, squinting up at the sky.

“so,” he says. “how are you planning to give it to him?”

you blink. “uh. just... give it to him?”

he gives you a flat look. “you’re really bad at this.”

“excuse me?”

“c’mon,” he says. “you go through all this trouble, sneak around just to surprise him, and you’re just gonna hand it to him like it’s a bag of chips?”

you frown. “what am i supposed to do? make a scavenger hunt?”

“i mean, that would be funny.”

“sungho.”

he chuckles. “fine, fine. but at least make it a moment, you know? like, put them in a nice box or something. set the mood a little.”

you consider that. he’s right. you don’t just want this to be a casual exchange. you want taesan to feel how much this means.

“okay,” you say slowly. “i’ll think of something.”

sungho pats your shoulder. “good. because if you don’t, i’m telling him i helped.”

you gasp. “you wouldn’t.”

his grin is downright evil. “try me.”

you groan, shoving him lightly as he laughs.

but despite the teasing, there’s a warmth in your chest that wasn’t there before. because for all the effort, all the second-guessing, all the overthinking. you know this is the right thing to do.

you just hope taesan sees it that way, too.

you and sungho are now wandering the streets, bags in hand, the weight of them a constant reminder of what you're keeping from taesan. there's a knot in your stomach, anxiety creeping in at the thought of what will happen once you return to the dorm.

sungho notices you fidgeting with your phone, eyes flicking between your screen and the road ahead. "you've been checking your messages like every two seconds," he says with a knowing smile. "taesan giving you trouble?"

"i... i don’t know," you mutter, glancing at your phone again. "he hasn’t texted yet. i think he’s mad."

sungho snorts. "he’s always mad."

you roll your eyes but can't help the tension building inside you. it's not like taesan to be suspicious like this. sure, he's possessive at times, but you’ve always been upfront with him. today, though, everything feels off. you know he’s probably wondering where you are, especially after leaving so abruptly.

after a few more moments of walking, your phone buzzes in your hand. it’s a message from taesan.

you open it quickly, your heart dropping when you read the text.

taesan: where are you?

you can almost hear the frustration in his words, even though they’re so short. you hesitate for a moment, trying to figure out how to respond. the last thing you want is to reveal anything.

“everything okay?” sungho asks, glancing at you with a raised eyebrow.

“yeah,” you say quickly, typing back a response. "just... running… errands…"

you: just out. why?

you hit send and try to push the worry away. but it doesn’t help when your phone buzzes again, another message from taesan.

taesan: are you by yourself?

your stomach tightens. it feels like he’s fishing for something, trying to confirm his suspicions. you swallow hard. taesan doesn’t know you’re out with sungho. he probably thinks you’re just alone, maybe out with someone else. the thought of him jumping to conclusions makes you tense up.

“you need to tell him the truth, man,” sungho says, half-joking but still serious. “it’s gonna be hard to keep it up much longer.”

you bite your lip, looking at the text again. taesan doesn’t like being kept in the dark. but if you tell him you're out with sungho, there's no way you can keep the surprise a secret.

you: yeah, just me. out by myself.

you send the message quickly, almost immediately regretting it. the lie feels wrong in your gut, but you can’t risk ruining the surprise.

as soon as you hit send, another text from taesan comes through.

taesan: you didn’t tell me where you went. it’s weird, you know. don’t lie to me.

your heart sinks. this is exactly what you were afraid of. you can feel his frustration radiating through the words, even though they’re brief. taesan might not say it outright, but you know he’s pissed.

“is he mad?” sungho asks, eyes narrowing as he watches you.

“yeah,” you say quietly, looking at the screen again. “he thinks i’m lying.”

sungho tilts his head, his expression softening. “well, you kind of are...”

you groan, feeling guilty. “yeah, but if i tell him the truth, he’ll know what we’re really doing.”

sungho sighs but doesn’t press. “you’ve got to be careful, though. taesan can’t stand being lied to. he might feel like you’re hiding something else.”

you take a deep breath, trying to push the anxiety aside. “he’s just overthinking it. i’ll deal with it when we get back.”

you walk in silence for a bit longer, and the weight of the lie is starting to feel unbearable. but then your phone buzzes again. it’s from taesan.

taesan: riwoo just told me you’re out with sungho. why didn’t you say that?

your heart stops. it feels like everything is crashing down around you. of course, taesan would hear from riwoo. he always does. but you didn’t think it would happen so soon.

sungho laughs lightly, though it’s more nervous than anything else. “i mean, it’s not like you didn’t want him to find out.”

you stare at the message, feeling a mix of guilt and frustration. “he’s so mad now...”

“you better fix it,” sungho says with a small chuckle. “he’s gonna blow up on you if you keep avoiding the truth.”

you sigh, rubbing your eyes. “i don’t know how to fix it. i’ve already lied twice.”

“well,” sungho says, “maybe you just gotta... tell him the truth at this point. no more hiding.”

but you’re not ready to do that. not yet. the surprise is too important to mess up now.

you type out a message, your hands shaking a little as you try to keep it steady.

you: i’m sorry. we just bumped into eachothee

you press send, waiting for taesan’s response with bated breath.

it takes a while, but finally, your phone buzzes.

taesan: it was a coincidence?

you let out a sigh of relief. it's not as bad as it could have been, but you still feel like you’ve messed up.

you: yeah, i went out to grab some stuff, and boom, sungho was there getting some stuff for the dorm too

you wait for a reply, and when it comes, it’s still not as angry as you expected, but you can hear the frustration in taesan’s words.

taesan: you know, you could’ve just told me. i don’t like when you hide stuff from me.

your heart drops, and you feel guilty again. you want to explain yourself, but you’re afraid it’ll make everything worse.

“he’s really pissed now,” you say quietly to sungho, who nods sympathetically.

“you should’ve just told him earlier,” he says, though his tone is more playful than critical. “now you gotta go back and fix it.”

you take a deep breath, realizing sungho’s right. you’re going to have to deal with the fallout when you get back to the dorm.

you decide on sungho’s dorm since taesan is rooming with woonhak and jaehyun so it would be perfect to wrap his gift all together and put final touched on it.

but once you open the door, you stand frozen at the door of sungho’s dorm, heart hammering in your chest. the moment taesan walks in, everything about the room shifts. his presence fills the space, and even though he’s not saying anything yet, you feel the weight of his gaze.

“so, this is where you’ve been?” taesan’s voice cuts through the silence. it’s sharper than usual, colder too. he looks at you, then at sungho, his eyes narrowing. “i thought you said you were by yourself.”

you feel your breath catch in your throat. his words hit harder than expected, but you force a smile, trying to keep your cool. “i was… i mean, i am.”

taesan tilts his head, his eyes scanning you like he’s trying to figure out if you’re lying. you take a deep breath, trying to steady yourself. “i just bumped into sungho, we were talking, and i guess riwoo saw us leave together.” you’re already regretting how this sounds, but you can’t back down now. you have to keep the lie intact.

“bumped into sungho?” taesan’s voice drips with suspicion. “so it’s just a coincidence you were both out together?”

you nod quickly, hoping he buys it. “yeah, we were just… talking, you know? nothing serious. i just didn’t want to bother you while you were busy.”

taesan crosses his arms, studying you with a sharp gaze. “that doesn’t sound right.”

the air between you two feels like it’s crackling with tension. you swallow hard, knowing you can’t let him get too suspicious. “it’s really nothing, taesan. you know i wouldn’t lie to you about this.”

“you wouldn’t, huh?” taesan says slowly, his tone soft but with a dangerous edge. “then why didn’t you just tell me? why go through all this just to cover up some… coincidence?”

you flinch slightly at his words, the guilt gnawing at you. but you won’t break. you can’t spoil the surprise now. not when everything is so close to being perfect.

“i didn’t want to bother you with the details,” you say, hoping he buys it. “i just figured i’d spend some time with sungho, that’s all.” you glance at sungho for a moment, but he’s standing still, like he’s unsure whether to step in.

taesan watches you for a long beat, and you can see the wheels turning in his mind. his expression hardens. “so you thought it’d be better to lie to me, to sneak around?”

your chest tightens, the weight of his words sinking in deeper than you expected. “taesan, it’s not like that.”

“really?” taesan’s voice rises, a hint of frustration creeping in. “because that’s exactly what it sounds like. i don’t know, it’s just hard to believe that you’re not hiding something. are you trying to cover something up?”

you feel your heart race. this is spiraling out of control, and you don’t know how to stop it. the last thing you want is for him to think you’re doing something behind his back.

��taesan, please,” you say, your voice barely above a whisper. “you’re overthinking this. i didn’t want to tell you because i didn’t want to make a big deal out of it.” you force yourself to look him in the eye, trying to convey sincerity. “it’s nothing, really.”

taesan doesn’t respond right away. he’s still standing there, arms crossed, eyes cold as he studies you. you feel like he’s dissecting every word you’ve said, trying to figure out if you’re being honest or not.

“so what, this is all just some coincidence?” taesan asks again, voice dripping with doubt. “you just happened to be with sungho, and riwoo just happened to see you leaving together?”

you nod quickly, trying to sound convincing. “yeah, that’s it. it’s just a coincidence, taesan.”

taesan lets out a long breath, his frustration simmering just under the surface. he doesn’t seem convinced, but he doesn’t push further. yet.

“you’re making this harder than it needs to be,” you say, trying to change the subject. “it’s nothing. seriously.”

taesan stays quiet, his eyes narrowing, still unconvinced. “i don’t know if i believe you, but fine. if you say so.”

there’s a moment of silence between you two, and you can almost feel the distance growing between you. you want to tell him the truth, but you can’t risk it. not yet.

“you didn’t need to lie to me, you know,” taesan says softly, his gaze softer but still guarded. “you could’ve just told me where you were. there wouldn’t have been any problem.”

“i know,” you say, your heart sinking. “but i didn’t want to ruin the surprise.”

the moment you say it, you regret it. taesan’s eyes flash with confusion, but he doesn’t say anything. he just watches you, waiting.

“what surprise?” taesan asks, the suspicion back in his voice.

you hesitate, panic rising. you can’t tell him, not yet. not when you’re this close.

“it’s nothing,” you say quickly, forcing a smile. “i just didn’t want to make a big deal out of it.”

taesan’s gaze sharpens again. “you’re lying. i can tell.”

you want to scream, to tell him the truth, but you stay silent, your heart heavy with the pressure of it all.

“you’ve been hiding something from me, haven’t you?” taesan asks, his voice quiet now, as if he’s piecing everything together.

you look away, unable to meet his eyes. you can’t keep lying, but you can’t give in either. not yet.

“taesan, please,” you whisper. “just trust me. i don’t want to hurt you.”

he sighs, his expression softening just a little. “i trust you, but it’s hard when you keep lying to me. i just don’t get why you couldn’t tell me what was going on.”

you open your mouth to say something, but nothing comes out. your throat feels tight, and your mind is racing, trying to figure out how to get yourself out of this mess.

“i’m sorry,” you finally say, your voice barely audible. “i didn’t mean for any of this to happen.”

taesan looks at you for a long moment, his face softening a bit. “it’s fine,” he says quietly. “but next time, just tell me. no more lies.”

you nod, relieved but still filled with guilt.

there’s a long silence, and then you finally reach into your bag and pull out the vinyl and the trinkets you picked out for him. you hold them out to him, your hands shaking.

“here,” you say softly, voice full of apology. “i got these for you. i… i thought you’d like them.”

taesan takes the items slowly, his expression unreadable. after a few moments, he looks up at you. “you didn’t have to do this,” he says, his voice softening. “but… thanks.”

you smile weakly, still feeling the weight of everything. “i’m sorry for making you mad.”

taesan sighs, stepping closer to you. “it’s okay. just promise me no more lies, alright?”

“promise,” you say quietly.

and for the first time in what feels like forever, the tension begins to melt away. taesan pulls you into a hug, and you let yourself relax, knowing that you’ll have to make things right.

but for now, you’re just grateful that he’s still here.

taesan is silent for a long time, just staring at the vinyls in his hands. his fingers trace over the covers, his expression unreadable.

you shift nervously, waiting for some kind of reaction. was this too much? was this not what he would’ve liked? sungho had assured you it was a good choice, but now, standing here with taesan’s gaze locked onto the gift, doubt creeps in.

“you really did all this for me?” taesan finally asks, voice quieter now.

you nod quickly. “of course i did. you just had a comeback, and i wanted to get you something that actually fit your taste. something you’d really like.”

he exhales slowly, his grip tightening around the vinyls for a second before he looks up at you. his expression has softened completely, the cold edge gone. instead, there’s something else… something warmer.

“you’re an idiot,” he mutters, but there’s no bite to his words. in fact, his lips twitch slightly, like he’s trying not to smile. “you could’ve just told me.”

“and ruin the surprise?” you huff, crossing your arms. “not a chance.”

taesan sighs, shaking his head. “you made me worry for nothing.”

“i didn’t mean to,” you mumble, guilt creeping back in.

he looks at you for another long second before stepping forward, wrapping his arms around you. his hold is firm, secure, like he’s grounding himself in your presence.

you blink, surprised at the sudden affection, but quickly melt into the embrace. his scent is familiar, and the warmth of his body makes all the stress from earlier fade.

“don’t do that again,” he mutters into your hair. “just tell me next time.”

you nod against his chest. “okay. i promise.”

he pulls back slightly, just enough to look at you, his dark eyes still holding a bit of lingering frustration. but it’s different now. less about suspicion, more about the fact that you worried him.

his eyes flicker to sungho, and his warmth disappears just slightly as he levels a glare at him. “and you,” he says, narrowing his eyes.

sungho raises his hands defensively. “hey, don’t look at me like that. i was just helping.”

“helping,” taesan repeats, clearly not convinced. “spending hours alone with y/n, keeping secrets, sneaking around.”

sungho rolls his eyes. “yeah, yeah, i get it. i’d be mad too. but it’s not like that.”

“doesn’t matter,” taesan grumbles, still glaring. “you still got too comfortable.”

you groan, tugging at his sleeve. “taesan, please. it’s not like we were on a date or something.”

taesan clicks his tongue but lets it go, instead looking back at the items in his hands. now that he’s actually processing it, his expression shifts, like he’s finally realizing what you got him, without the worry of why you were lying.

“wait,” he mutters, flipping it over. “this album… where did you find this?”

you grin. “special store sungho knew about. he helped me find the best ones.”

taesan pauses for a moment, then looks at you again, softer this time. “you really went through all this trouble just to get me something i’d like?”

you scoff. “of course i did. i love you, you idiot.”

his ears turn red. it’s subtle, but you notice it. he looks away, clearing his throat. “you’re the idiot,” he mumbles, gripping the vinyls like it’s the most precious thing in the world. “but… thanks.”

he pulls you into another hug, holding you tight, like he doesn’t want to let go.

and just like that, everything feels right again.

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lovegalor333 · 4 months ago

Text

˖ ᡣ𐭩 ⊹ ࣪ ౨ৎ˚₊✧˚ · .

woman crush wednesday (paige x reader) (next part)

summary: paige is asked who her celebrity crush is on instagram live and you’re pleasantly surprised when she responds with your name

content warnings: none!

inspired by this request from @rizzlerbuckets 🌟

“You have to see this, Y/N.” Your best friend exclaimed as she joined you in your kitchen where you were making dinner for the both of you.

You glance up from the stove to see her phone in her hand outstretched in your direction. There’s a video playing and from what you can see, it’s a screen recording of an Instagram live. The are two girls in the frame and they look like they’re in a dorm room.

“What is this? Who are they?” You ask confused, turning your attention back to the steak you were frying in a pan.

“They’re basketball players, just watch.” She insists, pushing her phone closer to your face.

You turn your gaze to the video and do as your best friend says. You watch the girls on screen as they read through the comments they were getting. They would laugh every now and then and you found yourself entranced by the blonde and the way her eyes scrunched at the sides when she smiled.

Your best friend turns up the volume of her phone and watches you closely with raised brows.

“OK OK! This is a good question whos your celebrity crush?” The girl with the braids directs to her friend next to her.

The blonde girl ponders for all of three seconds, “This is easy.” She grins and you’re expecting the usual response of one of the many famous men that most girls pine over. Channing Tatum, Michael B Jordan, Harry Styles, Justin Bieber, Vinnie Hacker, Jude Bellingham and you’re not sure why your best friend wanted you to watch this so bad. Until you hear her answer and it’s none of the names you imagined, it’s not even a man. It’s you.

“She’s bad bad.” The blonde continues, “And she sings. What more could you ask for?”

“Damn OK, someones down bad.” Her friend teases, “Y/N, if you’re watching this, let my girl Paige here take you on a date.” You laugh because you imagined the girls never would have thought you’d actually watch this video but, little do they know, your best is chronically online and sees everything that’s posted about you. Of course, she picks and chooses what she shares with you but you’re secretly glad this video made it through her vetting process.

“How old is this girl?” You ask cautiously before making any further comments.

“I’ll Google!” Your best friend chimes, tapping away at her phone. “Twenty two.” She clarifies, the same age as you.

“And she’s still in college?” You ask.

“It says here she was injured for the majority of two seasons so she was eligible to redshirt. She goes to University of Connecticut.” Your best friend explains, probably reading through Wikipedia.

You and your best friend discuss Paige over dinner, scrolling through her various social media accounts. Now you knew her age, you had no problem voicing how you felt about her. “She’s hot.” You say as her most recent TikTok plays on a loop.

Not only was she blonde, which was historically your type, but she had the most beautiful blue eyes that could draw you in, even through a screen. She played basketball, so of course she was tall but the way she carried herself so confidently and purposeful had you in a chokehold. Her muscular body, that she had no problem showing off, had your heart rate spiking each time she flexed her biceps in videos that now flooded your For You Page.

“Well, you know where Connecticut isn’t far from? New York.” Your best friend says, “And where are we? NEW YORK!” She triumphs as if you hadn’t already been able to come to that conclusion yourself.

“I’m messaging her.” You announce, opening Instagram and searching for Paiges name.

“What are you going to say?”

“I don’t know, something flirty.” You reply, fingers hovering over your keyboard as you think.

“Picture of your mommy milkers?” Your best friend says and you laugh at her suggestion, “No! Not yet, anyway.”

You type out a message before deleting it and you finally land on,

heard you wanted to take me on a date?

Paige is quick to reply, you’ve barely put your phone down before it pings.

hahah you saw the live?

im embarrassed

dont be, im flattered

and wondering where you’re taking me

You cringe at your boldness but the send the message anyway. Paige was hot and she clearly thought you were too so what was the harm in having some fun?

are you busy right now?

wow, you don’t waste any time

not for the date darling, call me

Paige sends you her number and you press call, anxiously waiting for her to answer. When she does, her voice is smoky and sweet and your brows raise at her tone and you excuse yourself to your bedroom, leaving your best friend grinning from ear to ear like a kid in a candy store.

You and Paige chatted for longer than you realise and you find yourself giggling like a teenager at her words. It’s almost midnight when Paiges words become softer and slower, “It’s late. I should let you go.” You say not wanting to keep her up.

“Or you could stay on the phone and sing me to sleep.” She quips, earning another giggle from you.

“Let’s save that for another time. When I’m actually there and you can feel my breath on your neck.” You drawl.

You hear a sharp in take of breath, “Don’t play.” Paige says lowly.

“Goodnight Paige.” You giggle, satisfied with her flustered response.

“Goodnight Y/N.”

˖ ᡣ𐭩 ⊹ ࣪ ౨ৎ˚₊✧˚ · .

a/n: just a short one but this was actually really fun to write! hope u enjoy 💋 vinnie hacker mention because p is never escaping that 😭

#paige bueckers #wlw #lgbtq #oneshot #paige x reader #uconn wbb #wcbb #paige bueckers imagine #blurb #fanfic #lovegalor333

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lovebugism · 1 year ago

Note

Im a very indecisive person but I guess I'll go with “Surprise, I have feelings and you just hurt them.” with Eddie, if you have any inspiration for this prompt 💕

ty for requesting!! — you get mean when you like someone, so eddie thinks you hate him (grump!reader, enemies to lovers, hurt/comfort, shameless succession reference, 1.9k)

“Please, tell me you’re joking,” you mumble through the melting vanilla shake on your tongue.

Robin grins at you across the table and shakes her head. “Nope,” she says, popping the p. “You are officially looking at Vicki Carmichael’s latest odyssey.”

You and Eddie look over your shoulder at Steve. He stands at the front counter and fumbles with the straw dispenser — hitting the lever repeatedly, with an increasingly rougher touch when nothing comes out. He flounders when they all spill out at once.

He’s lucky he’s so pretty.

“Wait, I’m confused,” Eddie announces from beside you after stealing a sip of your milkshake. He squints and fights off a brain freeze. “Why didn’t he just tell us? He’s screwing the hottest girl in town— it feels like something he’d brag about.”

“I’m sitting right here,” you scoff, mostly kidding.

“‘Cause he knew you guys would totally ream him for it,” Robin answers and pinches fry crumbs into her mouth. Through a mouthful of them, she says, “It’s not like you’re usually supportive about this kinda stuff.”

“I’m all for Steve being a slut, okay?” you defend with your hands up in surrender. “But I do draw the line at my best friend fucking the girl who bullied me in high school.”

“What’d she do?” Eddie asks. You can’t tell if he really cares or if he just wants something new to laugh at you for, but you decide to humor him anyway.

“She cut out the boobs of my gym shirt before class because she knew if I dressed out again, I was getting detention,” you explain, smiling when it makes the table laugh. “I had to run the mile with my bright pink sports bra showing, but at least my record was clean.”

“What are you guys talking about?” Steve wonders aloud when he returns to the table, carrying the only straw that hadn’t fallen to the floor. He slides into the booth next to Robin and looks at the three of you expectantly.

“Nothing.” the brunette girl chirps.

“You,” Eddie deadpans.

You squint. “Real smooth, Munson.”

“Wait, what?”

Eddie laughs. “I mean, Vicki Carmichael? Seriously?”

Steve gapes at Robin, features yawned in betrayal. “You told them?”

The girl shrugs, taking a big bite of her burger and playing coy.

“She’s hot and everything, but she’s really not your type, man.”

Steve’s eyes narrow across the table. “What’s that supposed to mean, freak?”

“She likes bad boys,” you answer for him, shrugging like it’s obvious. “You know, the Billy Hargrove types. With tattoos and leather jackets and long hair. And, no offense, but you’re the furthest thing from that.”

“I think you just described me, doll,” Eddie laughs.

“Weren’t you screwing around with Billy Hargrove a couple months ago?” Steve wonders with a knowing, honeyed squint.

“Shut up, Harrington,” you bite.

Eddie grins with all his teeth, pink and boyish and proud. “Oh, so you’re screwing guys that are just like me now, huh? I’m flattered.”

“If anything, you’re the dollar store version of Billy Hargrove, Munson,” you retort with a roll of your eyes, turning your attention to the milkshake in front of you. You stab holes in the thick ice cream and try to ignore the sudden attention.

All the eyes on you make you nervous. You were never good at being the butt of the joke. ‘Cause when you get embarrassed, you get mean. Like some kinda hurt dog.

“You have everything but the looks.”

“Fuck off,” Eddie snorts and snatches the frosted glass away from you. He slides it over to his side of the table and sips from the straw that has your lipstick stained on the tip of it. “You can’t insult me—”

“Can’t I?”

“—Not when you’re fucking a carbon copy of me,” he scoffs and tries to ignore the jealousy burning wildfires behind his ribcage.

“He’s nothing like you,” you insist.

“He’s exactly like me. Just blonde. And watered down,” Eddie argues, face twisted with disgust. He smiles when it makes everyone else laugh but you. “I mean, it’s kinda sad, actually. I turned you down, so you had to try it out with Hargrove?”

“I didn’t try it, first of all, I fucking conquered it,” you retort, not exactly joking but grinning when it makes Steve and Robin chuckle to themselves. “And second of all, I never wanted you, Munson. So there was never anything to turn down.”

Your words sting somewhere deep in his chest. Like there’s a knife lodged deep in his heart that aches every time he breathes. He doesn’t know what to do with this hurt other than hurt you back.

“So that night you told me you liked me after my show— that was all a lie?” he asks, smirking to hide his ache.

Robin’s eyes go wide as she bites into her burger. “What is this? A sleepover?” she scoffs with her mouth full. “Why is everyone telling each other’s secrets?”

“You started it, Buckley,” Steve quips before stealing one of her fries.

Your answer is immediate. A total lie, but instant nonetheless. No one’s gonna out-insult you. Rarely ever do you come out of petty arguments without having drawn the most blood.

“Yeah! You bombed, and I felt bad, and I wanted to make you feel better,” you confess with a sinister giggle. “What I really wanted to say is that I wish your mom had given birth to a can opener because at least then it might be good at something.”

Eddie meets your smirk with a glower, something genuinely pained that makes your chest sting. You refuse to show it, though. Not even when he slides out of the booth. “Yeah, okay. Fuck you,” he mumbles to himself as he goes.

“What?” you scoff a cynical laugh.

“C’mon,” Steve murmurs quietly to you. “That was a little too far.”

“Oh, so he can make fun of me, but I can make fun of him?”

“It’s different. You know that.”

You roll your eyes even though you know he’s right. Eddie’s a clown, but he means well. He’s a dumbass because he doesn’t know how to be serious about anything, but he’s hardly ever outright mean.

You’re made of something more hardened than that. You set fires all around you, and only when a person walks through it do you know they really care. You don’t mean to be so mean half the time. It’s a defense mechanism more than anything. A time-bomb you never really learned to defuse.

“It was a joke, Eds!” you shout as he storms the short distance to the entrance of the diner.

“Well, surprise. I have feelings—” he grins, though there’s little emotion behind it. The door dings over his head when he shoves it open. He reaches for the crushed packet of cigarettes in his pocket. “—And you just hurt them.”

The diner feels strangely silent with him gone. The air feels noticeably heavy, too.

You reach for the milkshake he left on his side of the table and slide it audibly back over to you. You don’t sip from it, though. Your stomach’s too much in knots now. You just busy your fidgeting hands with it, holding the frosted glass in your delicate palms until they ache.

“Stop staring at me,” you mumble, not meeting the silent looks Robin and Steve give you across the booth.

“Go talk to him before you give him a complex.”

“Yeah,” the boy hums with a knowing smile. “Go kiss and make up.”

“Shut up,” you bite with a scrunched-together face. You deflate with a sigh. “Fine. I’ll go— but not because you told me to.”

You hear them laugh quietly to themselves as you walk out behind Eddie.

He leans against the corner of the old building and blows smoke from his lungs. He looks relatively unfazed despite the circumstances. You swallow down the worry that you’re embarrassing yourself by being out here at all.

Your shoes scuff against the sidewalk as you near him. “Eds—”

“I’m fine,” he interjects before you can say anything real. “You don’t need to apologize.”

“Well, it’s too late. Steve and Robin already kicked me out here, so…” You trail off in a monotone, despite having already declared that you were out here not because you were told to be. He doesn’t need to know that, though. “…I’m sorry.”

He takes a puff of the cigarette between his fingers, then shrugs on the exhale. “Okay.”

“The can opener thing was stupid— I mean, it wasn’t nice either, but it was a really dumb joke,” you ramble without taking a single breath. You cross your arms over yourself in a makeshift shield. “You didn’t even bomb that night. At your show or whatever. I lied. You were… You were actually really good.”

Eddie turns his head slowly. He blinks at you with chocolate eyes sparkling with amusement.

You cower under his stare. “What?”

“I know what you’re doing,” he insists with a crooked smile.

“What?” you repeat, forcing a laugh.

“You’re fucking with me,” he chuckles and brings the cig back to his mouth. He mumbles through the stick. “But it’s cool, you know? I can cope.”

“I’m being serious, Eddie,” you argue. And then, when your chest starts to sting, it becomes impossible not to make a joke. “I think you’re a… super-talented superstar—”

“You’re such a fucking bitch,” he interjects with a sincere laugh, like honey and gunpowder.

You giggle, and the foreign tension ebbs.

“I’m just kidding,” you assure and prop your back against the wall beside him. “Well, I mean, I’m not, but I…” You stammer when you can’t find the words. You gesture wildly with your hands. “I do think you’re talented, it’s just— It’s hard for me to be serious, okay? But I am sorry.”

“It’s okay,” he assures, tossing the cigarette to the ground and snuffing the ash with his sneaker. “Trust me. I know what you mean.”

You swallow hard. “And I wasn’t… What I said to you that night, in your van after the show… I wasn’t lying.”

Eddie’s head snaps up. He blinks at you with a gaping gaze, even though you’re not looking at him to see it. You’re much more focused on the dumpster across the street, lest you meet his eyes and get embarrassed all over again.

This is the realest you’ve ever been with him, you think — since you told him you liked him and he all but turned you down.

Being vulnerable has been impossible since then.

“Then why’d you never talk to me about it again?” he asks, then stammers over himself. “You acted like it never even happened— I thought I fucking— like, dreamt it or some shit.”

“Because you didn’t say anything back! I thought you didn’t feel the same way!”

“I was just— I was just shocked. You always act like you hate me!”

“Because I like you, you idiot!” you blurt before you mean to, then huff with impatience at yourself. “Fuck. Sorry. I don’t know… I don’t know how to be nice to people I like.”

“It’s okay,” Eddie laughs, shifting on the brick wall until his shoulder rubs against it. He looks down at you like he’s seeing you for the very first time — glittering with the hope of finally getting close to you, of finally having something real.

“Don’t laugh!” you argue. “I’m trying really hard here!”

“I know,” he murmurs lowly, leaning in until you can taste the nicotine on his breath. In a honeyed tone, he confesses, “It’s a good thing I like you mean, then, huh?”

Your heart lurches into your throat. He smirks when you freeze, and knocks his shoulder against yours when he heads back into the diner.

The game of cat and mouse continues.

#published by bug #eddie munson x reader #stranger things x reader #eddie munson #eddie munson x y/n #eddie munson x you #stranger things #stranger things imagine #stranger things fanfic #stranger things fic #stranger things fanfiction #eddie munson imagine #eddie munson fluff #eddie munson fanfiction #eddie munson fanfic #eddie munson fic #st drabbles #eddie spaghetti drabble

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fruvittea · 2 months ago

Text

"he's just a gryffindor"

💌﹒→﹒gryffindor!jungwon x hufflepuff!reader (harry potter au) ﹒ ﹒ ♪

— genre: fantasy, slow burn, romance

— word count: 3.1k+

— warnings? none; reader is afab + mention of yunjin from le serrafim

— synopsis: At Hogwarts, reader, a Hufflepuff student, finds herself drawn to Jungwon, a Gryffindor, during a Care of Magical Creatures class where they’re paired to care for Nifflers. And for some reason Jungwon just stays in her life, finding her in the library or even in the dining hall. As the Yule Ball nears, Jungwon invites reader to the dance. During the night of the Yule Ball the two enjoy each other’s company as their relationship blossoms into something more.

— author's note: gosh i just love making fics with jungwon in any school setting LOL, they always turn out so cute >_< anyways enjoy !! and if you have any requests feel free to put it in my inbox :)

want to read more? check out fruvittea's enhypen masterlist: click here !!

The crisp autumn air swept through the open ground of Hogwarts, rustling the golden and scarlet leaves scattered around the stone pathways. You adjusted your scarf, tucking it tighter against the wind as you made your way to the Care of Magical Creatures paddock. Having your common room close to the kitchens made it much more difficult to get to your classes all the way across campus. And now you were running late. Today’s lesson was a joint class with Gryffindors, a combination that usually promised chaos. You weren’t sure what was worse—the rambunctious Gryffindors or the Nifflers Professor Hagrid had promised would make an appearance.

In the nick of time you reached the paddock, Hargid hadn’t rounded up the class yet. AS you fixed your uniforms you spotted the telltale messy black hair of Yang Jungwon, Gryffindor’s golden boy. He was standing near a group of his housemates, grinning widely as they laughed at something he’d said. You tried not to look too long, but it was difficult not to notice him. He had a natural charisma that seemed to draw everyone in, his laughter infections even from a distance.

“All right, settle down, everyone,” Hagrid called, his booming voice cutting through the chatter. “We’ve got a special test today. You’ll be working in pairs to care for a Niffler. They’re cheeky little devils, so you’ll need to keep an eye on ‘em.”

You swallowed nervously. Working in pairs meant you’d be stuck with a Gryffindor for the next hour, and knowing your luck, it wouldn’t be one of the quieter ones.

“Let’s pair up then!” Hagrid announced, waving his massive hand to gesture for the students to group together.

You stood there watching as classmates mingled and sat down together. you were unsure of who to approach, when a familiar voice piped up behind you. “Looks like we’re partners.”

Turning around you found yourself face-to-face with Jungwon. His dark eyes sparkled with amusement, and his scarf was loosely draped around his neck, the crimson and gold clashing beautifully against his warm complexion.

“Oh. Okay,” you managed, your voice quieter than you intended. “Let’s do this, then.”

He grinned adjusting his scarf. “Try to keep up, Hufflepuff. Nifflers aren’t exactly known for being cooperative.”

You bristled at his teasing tone but bit back a retort. Instead, you focused on the small, mischievous created that Hargid placed in your hands. the Niffler’s tiny class dug into your glove as it sniffled around, its beady eyes darting towards Jungwon’s pocket.

“Careful,” you warned, shifting the Niffler slightly. “It’s eyeing your pocket. Did you bring anything shiny?”

Jungwon smirked. “What kind of student would I be if I did?” He pulled a golden Galleon from his pocket and held it up, hte coin catching the sunlight. The Niffler’s attention snapped to it instantly, and before you could react, it launched itself out of your hands and straight towards him.

“Whoa!” Jungwon stumbled backwards as the Niffler clung to his robe, scrabbling at his pocket. You stifled a laugh as your reached out to help, carefully prying the creature away.

“You’re not making this any easier,” you said, your tone laced with amusement.

“And you’re supposed to be the patient one,” he shot back, though there was no malice in his words. If anything, he seemed to be enjoying the banter.

The next hour passed in a blur of chaos and laughter. The Niffler’s antics kept you both on your toes, darting from one shiny object to the next. At one point, it disappeared into Jungwon’s bag, emerging triumphantly with a handful of Bertie Bott’s Every Flavor Beans.

“I don’t even know how those got in there,” he muttered, earning a chuckle from you.

By the time Hagrid called the class to a close, you were exhausted but oddly energized. Jungwon was leaning against the paddock fence, his hair slightly disheveled and a faint flush on his cheeks. He looked at you with a crooked grin.

“Not bad, Hufflepuff. You might actually have some Gryffindor in you.”

You rolled your eyes, though you couldn’t stop the small smile that tugged at your lips. “And you might have a little Hufflepuff. You were surprisingly gentle with the Niffler.”

“Surprising? I’m hurt,” he teased, placing a hand over his chest dramatically. “But I’ll take the compliment.”

Professor Hagrid dismissed the class and the adventures with the Nifflers came to an end. You thought your interactions with Jungwon would come to an end but before you left the room Jungwon caught up with you. The walk back to the castle was filled with easy conversation, much to your own surprise. Jungwon had a way of making you feel comfortable, even as he teased you relentlessly. By the time you parted ways in the Great Hall, you found yourself looking forward to your next Care of Magical Creatures lesson more than you cared to admit.

The following weeks brought more unexpected encounters. Whether it was passing him in the corridors or running into him during shared classes, Jungwon seemed to pop up everywhere. And each time, he greeted you with the same teasing grin and lighthearted banter.

One particularly chilly afternoon, you found yourself in the library, poring over a book on magical creatures for an essay. The familiar scent of parchment and ink surrounded you, and you were just beginning to lose yourself in the text when a shadow fell over your table.

“Studying? On a Saturday?” Jungwon’s voice broke your concentration.

You looked up to see him standing there, his arms crossed and a playful smirk on his face. “Some of us care about our grades,” you replied, raising an eyebrow. “What are you doing here?”

He shrugged, sliding into the seat across from you. “Looking for you, apparently. You left your scarf at the paddock yesterday.”

Your eyes widened as he pulled the yellow-and-black scarf from his bag and placed it on the table. “Oh. Thanks.”

“Don’t mention it,” he said, leaning back in his chair. “So, what’s the essay on?”

Against your better judgment, you found yourself explaining the assignment. Jungwon listened attentively, occasionally interjecting with a joke or question that made you laugh despite yourself. Before long, what had started as a quiet afternoon of studying turned into a surprisingly enjoyable conversation.

As the sun dipped lower in the sky, casting a warm glow through the library windows, you realized you hadn’t written a single word of your essay. Jungwon seemed to notice, too, because he stood up with a sheepish grin.

“Guess I’ve distracted you enough for one day,” he said. “Good luck with the essay, Hufflepuff.”

“Thanks,” you said, watching as he walked away. For a moment, you thought he might look back, but he didn’t. As you turned back to your book, you couldn’t help but smile. Maybe Gryffindors weren’t so bad.

The weeks following your unexpected partnership with Jungwon passed in a haze of routine and subtle anticipation. You’d find yourself scanning the Great Hall during breakfast or lingering just a little longer in the corridors, hoping to run into him. To your surprise—and slight annoyance—he always seemed to catch you off guard, his sharp wit and easy charm leaving you flustered more often than you’d care to admit.

It was late November when the snow began to blanket the castle grounds, transforming Hogwarts into a winter wonderland. Students bundled up in their house scarves, laughter echoing through the corridors as everyone prepared for the upcoming Yule Ball. It was all anyone could talk about, and despite your best efforts, the excitement was contagious.

You were heading to the greenhouses for Herbology when you heard a familiar voice call out behind you.

“Hey, Hufflepuff! Wait up!”

You turned to see Jungwon jogging toward you, his Gryffindor scarf askew and his cheeks pink from the cold. His smile was as bright as ever, and you felt your heart skip a beat.

“You know I have a name, right?” you teased, though your tone lacked any real bite.

“Of course it's Y/n,” he said, falling into step beside you. “But ‘Hufflepuff’ just suits you better. So, have you picked your Yule Ball date yet?”

The question caught you off guard, and you stumbled slightly on the icy path. “What? No! I mean… I haven’t really thought about it.”

He raised an eyebrow, clearly amused. “Come on, the whole school’s buzzing about it. Don’t tell me you’re not the least bit curious who’s going to ask you.”

You felt your face heat up and quickly looked away. “I’m more focused on my classes, thanks. Unlike some people, I don’t have time to obsess over a dance.”

Jungwon laughed, a sound that sent a warm flutter through your chest despite the chilly air. “You know for being so into your classes I would think you were a Ravenclaw but fair enough. Although if you need a last-minute partner, you know where to find me.”

“Is that your way of asking me?” you shot back, trying to regain the upper hand in the conversation.

“Maybe,” he said with a wink. “Or maybe I just like keeping you on your toes.”

Before you could respond, he gave you a quick wave and disappeared down a side path, leaving you standing there with a mix of confusion and something you couldn’t quite place.

“What the hell.” You muttered under your breath as you continued your walk to Herbology.

The days leading up to the Yule Ball were a whirlwind of preparations. Your dormitory buzzed with activity as your housemates tried on dresses and robes, debating hairstyles and accessories. You’d finally picked out your own attire, a simple yet elegant dress that you hoped would keep you from standing out too much.

The night of the ball arrived faster than you expected. And there you were standing at the mirror looking at your dress as your roommate talked about her date and what they were going to do after the dance.

“Y/n, I heard Jungwon asked you.” Yunjin, your roommate, decided to bring up.

“In a way, but I’m not going with him.” you said still looking in hte mirror trying to find any imperfections.

“Why? He’s really cute, plus I’ve seen you two talking like all the time.” You made eye contact with her through the mirror and she was smiling, wiggling her eyebrows.

“Calm down, we just met in class and he has just kept on talking to me. Anyways—do I look okay?” You turn to Yunjin with a worried look on your face.

She comes up to you and gives you a hug. “Don’t worry Y/n. Jungwon will think you look beautiful.” She teased.

You rolled your eyes not wanting to give her the satisfaction. "He's just a Gryffindor boy, not worth my time."

“Whatever you say. But I've seen the way to you smile when you're with him. Cmon let’s go, before it gets too late,” Yunjin takes your arm and you make your way to the dance.

The Great Hall was transformed into a magical wonderland, with twinkling fairy lights and shimmering icicles hanging from the enchanted ceiling. Students milled about in their finest attire, the air buzzing with excitement and the soft strains of music.

Yunjin had met up with her date and you were left standing near the refreshment table, sipping on a cup of warm pumpkin juice, when Jungwon appeared at your side. He looked impossibly dashing in his formal robes, the Gryffindor colors subtly incorporated into the design. His hair was neatly styled, but the familiar twinkle in his eyes remained unchanged.

“You clean up well,” he said, his tone light but his gaze warm.

“So do you,” you replied, trying not to let your nerves show. “I thought you’d be off charming the crowd.”

He shrugged, leaning casually against the table. “Maybe I’d rather be here. Besides, someone’s got to make sure you’re not hiding out all night.”

You rolled your eyes, though you couldn’t hide the smile tugging at your lips. “I’m not hiding. I’m observing.”

“Observing, huh?” He held out his hand, his grin softening into something almost nervous. “Care to observe the dance floor with me?”

For a moment, you hesitated. But then, something in his expression—the mix of confidence and vulnerability—made you reach out and take his hand.

The dance floor was crowded, but Jungwon guided you with surprising ease. The moment you stepped closer, you caught the faint scent of his cologne—something clean and subtly spicy that made your head spin. As the music swelled, you found yourself relaxing, letting him lead you through the steps. His hand was warm in yours, his touch steady but slightly trembling, as if he was as nervous as you felt.

“See? Not so bad,” he said, his voice barely above a whisper, a stark contrast to his usual playful tone.

You met his gaze and noticed the way his confident demeanor faltered slightly. His eyes flickered from yours to the space between you, like he couldn’t quite believe how close you were. For once, you couldn’t think of a single witty reply. Instead, you let yourself smile, feeling the moment stretch between you like a thread of magic, fragile yet unbreakable.

The steps slowed, and Jungwon’s grip on your hand tightened, as if he wasn’t ready for the song to end. When it finally did, he didn’t let go immediately. Instead, he leaned in slightly, his voice soft and uncertain as he said, “Thanks for the dance, Hufflepuff.”

“Anytime, Gryffindor,” you replied, your voice just as quiet, your heart fluttering wildly as he finally released your hand.

“You know,” Jungwon began, a hint of hesitation in his tone, “I wasn’t sure you’d say yes to that dance.”

“Why wouldn’t I?” you asked, tilting your head slightly. “It’s not like you gave me much of a choice.”

He chuckled softly, the sound almost self-conscious. “Fair point. But still… I’m glad you did.”

The sincerity in his voice caught you off guard, and for a moment, you forgot how to respond. Instead, you looked at him, really looked at him, and saw something in his expression you couldn’t quite place—a mixture of nervousness and relief.

“Well,” you said finally, your voice softer now, “it was… nice. Dancing with you, I mean.”

“Nice?” he echoed, pretending to be offended, though the slight upward twitch of his lips betrayed him. “I’ll take it.”

You rolled your eyes but couldn’t stop the small laugh that escaped you. “Don’t let it go to your head.”

“Too late,” he said with a grin, but there was a gentleness in his eyes that made your heart skip another beat.

But Jungwon didn’t stray far. Throughout the night, he stayed by your side, his usual teasing demeanor giving way to something more genuine. He made you laugh with stories of his misadventures in the Gryffindor common room, his eyes lighting up every time you smiled. The two of you shared more dances, each one more comfortable and intimate than the last, until the space between you felt almost non-existent.

As the night wore on, you found yourself wondering how you’d never noticed the way his laugh sounded like music, or how his presence made you feel like you belonged exactly where you were. Jungwon seemed equally caught up in the moment, his gaze lingering on you longer than necessary, his hand brushing yours even when there was no need.

By the end of the ball, it felt as though the rest of the world had faded away, leaving just the two of you under the enchanted ceiling, the stars above mirroring the spark between you.

Jungwon’s voice broke the comfortable silence. “You know, this has been the best Yule Ball I’ve ever been to.”

You raised an eyebrow, a teasing smile playing on your lips. “How many have you been to, exactly?”

He chuckled softly, the sound warm and a little shy. “Well, it’s my first, but… it’ll be hard to top this.”

You felt your cheeks warm at his words, the sincerity in his tone catching you off guard. “I’m glad you had a good time,” you said softly, looking down at your feet before meeting his gaze again. “I did too.”

His smile widened, and for a moment, he looked like he wanted to say something else. Instead, he hesitated, glancing around the Great Hall. The music was softer now, the crowd thinning as couples began to drift out.

“Do you… want to go for a walk?” he asked, his voice quieter, almost nervous.

You blinked in surprise but nodded, the idea of some fresh air suddenly appealing. “Yeah, I’d like that.”

Together, you slipped out of the hall, the crisp night air wrapping around you as you stepped onto the snow-dusted grounds. The moonlight reflected off the blanket of white, casting everything in a silvery glow. Jungwon walked beside you, his hands tucked into his pockets, his usual confidence replaced by a quiet thoughtfulness.

“It’s so peaceful out here,” you murmured, your breath visible in the cold.

“Yeah,” he agreed, glancing at you with a small smile. “I think I needed this.”

“From all your Gryffindor antics?” you teased lightly.

He laughed, the sound soft but genuine. “Something like that. It’s nice, though. Being here with you.”

You looked at him, your heart skipping at the earnestness in his voice. Before you could overthink it, you nudged him playfully. “Careful, Jungwon. You’re starting to sound sincere.”

“Maybe I am,” he said, his tone quiet but steady. The vulnerability in his eyes made your teasing smile falter, replaced by something softer.

The two of you stopped near a frozen fountain, the snow glimmering around you. Jungwon turned to face you fully, his expression hesitant but hopeful. “Thanks for tonight. I mean it.”

“You already said that,” you replied, though your voice lacked any real teasing.

“I know,” he said, taking a small step closer. “But I wanted to say it again.”

The space between you felt charged, the air holding a kind of anticipation you’d never felt before. Jungwon’s eyes flicked to yours, then to your lips, and back again, as though waiting for a sign.

Not thinking but acting you leaned in close to Jungwon’s face, brushing your lips against his. It was soft and tentative, but the warmth of it spread through you like fire. Jungwon froze for a moment before responding, his hand gently coming up to cup your cheek as he deepened the kiss just slightly.

When you finally pulled away, both of you were breathless, the cold air sharp against your heated skin. Jungwon’s smile was small but radiant, his eyes searching yours.

“So… does this mean I’ve secured you as my partner for the next ball too?” he asked, his playful tone returning but laced with unmistakable affection.

You laughed, shaking your head. “We’ll see, Gryffindor. We’ll see.”

✴︎🪷𓈒͏ུུ̑̑. ཉ — by @fruvittea

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