#might actually be the perfect way to have a “middle hardness” effect between the soft and hard one

[machidielontheway]

On a bright note today i saw : - one cat (in passing as i was in the bus : it was black) - a magpie (either reckless or supremely unconcerned about the fact that the bus was upon her and she kept HOPPING as she crossed the road instead of like. flying away.)(get this. she was... jaywalking) - lots of dogs ! pretty colored ones with eyes white as ice - a big black heron flying up above

And i did : - buy vegetables and fruits at the market - get my blood taken, got the results, won't die tomorrow apparently (real reading of the results will have to wait on monday or tuesday) - find good (well i hope. we'll see in time) new shoes for nature/long walking. not a fan of the plastic-instead-of-usually-in-metal bits, but they felt really comfortable and fitted to my feet which is rare - listened to live music ! saw a lot of people having fun. it was quite nice

[cerebrumrott]

Obey Me! Shall we Date?

Brothers and Newly Dateables x MC

Synopsis: Where their pact marks would be and how they would appear...

Lucifer

His mark would appear on your throat. Below the chin and Above the adams apple is where the sigil lies but the patterns and runes that circle it seem to trickle down your throat to your collar bones. Some even tracing up along the under side of your jaw.

You would know the mark appeared here because its his favorite part of you. He would often hide his face into your neck after a stressful day kissing along your jaw, and breathing in your scent.

It's also where his hand would most often lay, whether he be mindlessly tracing patterns into your skin, tipping your face up to his for a kiss, or holding you in place for him.

The mark is gorgeous and intricate. In direct light it appears to be a plain black though every so often it will catch the light just so to reveal the color beneath. A dazzling and heavenly blue.

When your pact mark appears he can barely keep his hands to himself. Most often when passing one another is RAD he will stop you just to take a moment to admire the mark before ushering you on your way smirking as he warns you not to be late.

Mammon

His mark will appear on the back of the neck where the skull meets the spine. Its a small and tight circle almost barely noticeable with it being faded into your hair line.

He is furious at first demanding to know why his mark is so small compared to the others and why its in such a hard to see place. He proceeds to pout to himself muttering about why it couldnt be somewhere obvious like your eyes or better yet in the middle of your forehead!

Once that was out of his system he began to truly appreciate the pact mark. He was the closest to your mind because he knew what you were really thinking sometimes without you even needing to say it. He often finds his hand coming to subconsciously rest on the back of your neck petting and massaging the mark as it also soothed him. Sometimes when he is thinking too hard he will start aggressively petting your head. It was funny the first time but the look your teacher gave you when Mammon accidentally started petting you in the middle of class was less so.

Whenever you wear hoodies or scarves he doesn't hesitate to walk up behind you and pull your hood down saying its disrespectful to cover up his pact mark and that you should be displaying it to the world. One time you shaved out a little triangle at the base of your hair line to fully expose the mark and with your hair tied up high. Mammon was just beaming with pride and joy following behind you like a love sick puppy just to stare at his mark.

Leviathan

When you made a pact with Levi you actually couldnt find it for weeks. You had cheeked every inch of your skin for a mark big or small but couldn't find anything.

That was until one day while hanging out with Levi you burnt the roof of your mouth so bad you thought the skin was peeling off. Levi worried used the flashlight on his phone to look in your mouth and let out of yelp of surprise at what he found. You also panicked thinking your mouth was now beyond saving from an all too hot bite of noodles.

No instead he had found where his pact mark lied. On the roof of your mouth was a relatively large and well detailed sigil and its surrounding runes. Interwoven between these runes were two serpents. The heads of each snake ending by your front canines the tails vanishing where your wisdom teeth should be.

It took you both weeks just to find the mark and even more so discussing why it would ever appear in such an odd place. It was one night during a TSL binge that it hit you. Levi hates touching but he loves talking with you. So of course his mark would have something to do with your mouth and since a mark can't be broken it couldnt go on your lips or near them.

At this Levi brings up the point of why not the tongue then? To that you counter its because he is a shut in and never sees the light of day. You had meant it as a joke but the dawning look on his face made you realize that is exactly why it was on the roof of your mouth.

When he kisses you he likes to drag his tongue over the mark the sensation sending sparks through his body.

Satan

His mark would appear on your outer thigh. This is where his hand would always fall when you both read together in the afternoons, or when you would sit at the table beside each other.

The mark itself is made up of sharp and bold lines that take up a majority of your leg reaching down to your knee and all the way up to your hip. The center of the mark is a deep forest green that fades away into a black. Similar to Lucifer's it too has a duo chrome effect where in certain lighting a vivid green can be seen glittering through the patterns and runes of the mark.

Satan will often find himself staring at you legs throughout the day envisioning the mark beneath connecting the two of you together. Many days he doesn't even attempt to hide his blatant stares as he longs to run his hands over the mark unhindered by cloth. Perhaps later when the two of you are back at home...

Asmodeus

His mark lies above your sternum and your heart. Asmodeus often jokes that it means you are hopelessly in love with him but the truth is that he is the one hopelessly in love. The many nights before you had made your pact where he would just dream of you. His love was not that of lust but of true and honest emotion the likes he had never felt before.

His mark is small, tightly packed in the space on the chest with the most minuscule and delicate details. The shapes and runes take on an appearance akin to that of a rose bush. Beautiful blossoms encased in a myriad of thorns protecting and guarding what lies beneath.

The thorns and vines interlaced with Asmodeus' pact mark when looked at from afar takes the shape of a heart matching the marks on his own skin.

Every time he sees the petals of his mark peeking out from a shirt of yours he can't help the way his heart fills and nearly weeps in happiness. While others may try to claim he is just oogling at your chest you both know its much more than that. Its much deeper than any of that.

Beelzebub

His pact mark is on your dominant hand. He had laughed at the time when it appeared saying it was because he couldn't think of anywhere else to place it but you both knew that demons don't choose where a pact forms. It appears in a place of significance to the both of them.

It took a week before you made the connections as to why it was your dominant hand that it appeared on. Everytime you took a drink or ate you would catch a glimpse of Beels large and chunky pact mark curling over the back of your hand and over your knuckles almost trickling down your fingers. You couldn't help but laugh almost choking on your food at the time as everyone at the table looked to you like you were mad.

Beel was all smiles as you told him about your discovery his cheeks flustered red as he too realized that was indeed a great reason as to why it might appear there. In all honesty he had been truly as clueless as you as to why it was your hand but now. Now it made perfect sense and he loved it so so much.

Beel loves his pact mark with you so much he will often just take your hand in his and press a soft kiss to your knuckles, or when he is feeling mischievous he will take your hand and drag a long lick up your arm before commenting on how delicious you are.

Belphegor

Belphegors mark forms on your non-dominant hand parallel to his twins. Though rather than drift down over the knuckles it instead crawls up the arm towards the elbow. Thin and curling lines make out the shapes of clouds that encircle the runes and sigil of his pact.

You both knew why his mark appeared here and it wasn't simply to mirror his twin much to Belphie's embarrassment. He always held your hand when he napped. It got to the point he couldnt sleep if you weren't holding his hand or petting his hair.

With your mark now on full display he doesn't even attempt to hide his need to hold your hand just walking up to you and taking it into his own even when not looking for a quick nap.

Long after you have gone to bed at night he will crack an eye open making sure you really are out for the night before carefully sitting up to take your hand into his and trace over the patterns there. You most likely would never notice but when his mark hit the moonlight just so. Brilliant white speckles like stars could be seen mixed among the markings.

Interlacing your fingers together Belphegor brings your knuckles to his lips falling asleep with your hand cradled to his face hoping to wake up still holding you.

Bonus:

Diavolo

His mark is the biggest out of all the demons. Shocker. The sigil and runes sit between your shoulder blades and the massive and intricate detailing the sprout outwards from that trails upwards and over yours shoulders and down your sides like a hug from behind. In the light it has a golden shimmer to it giving it a regal apperance.

If you have a pact with Barbatos it connects to his encircling your entire back and upper legs.

The mark appears where it does because that's where his hand is just drawn to rest on you. When he hugs you it presses there to draw you in closer, When guiding you around the castle he places it there when leading you through a door way and into another, even when just standing beside you his hand drifts to settle there.

When the pact mark appears it becomes his favorite place to kiss. Often walking up behind you and leaning down to press a quick kiss to the space regardless of the clothing in the way before smiling at you happily.

Barbatos

His mark appears on your lower back. The sigil and the runes themselves and small and concentrated into your lower back. Though the curling and spiraling patterns that extend outwards from it cover most of your lower back trailing up your spine. It even extends out and down the back of your thighs only stopping when it reaches the back of your knees.

The mark appears pure black to the naked eye but to those with magical capabilities it is a sparkling mixture of metallic blacks and sparkling blues.

If you have a pact with Diavolo the two pacts seem to blend together creating a dazzling shimmering affect of the gold and the blue/black.

He often takes the time just to appreciate the beauty of your pact mark. Asking in a soft voice before pushing up the back of your shirt to run a gloved hand carefully over the lines that trail along your spine and to your lower back.

When it is just the two of you he will place his hand on your lower back and rub small circles against the place where the mark lies reassuringly.

[i-cant-sing]

An Accident

Yeah... you may have seen this before, earlier this week when I accidentally posted it. Anyways, this is a part 2 of the Todoroki clan being obsessed with reader's hair. So, um enjoy.

Check out my MASTERLIST for more!

Yandere Todoroki Clan:

Rei is obsessed with reader’s hair.

She’s taken such good care of it, and after years of hard work, your hair now reaches just around your butt. Your hair is healthy, thick, luscious, and cut into a smooth, U shape; of course all trims are done by Rei herself because she doesn't even trust professionals. And even though you’ve asked Rei on multiple occasions to cut it short, at least up to the middle of your back, she just wouldn’t, always saying that you’re being unreasonable. But you’re not; you’ve given her multiple valid reasons.

For example, Rei and Fuyumi do your hair themselves. And initially, they would let you choose whatever hairstyle you wanted, but now they pick one for you, saying they know which one will suit your outfit of the day better. Rei likes to do double buns, or ponytails tied with ribbons or just one high pony with a pretty big bow on the top of your head. Fuyumi on the other hand makes super intricate hairstyles, and while they look pretty, only you know how much pain your scalp is in. Fuyumi does your hair as if you’re her doll, yanking and twisting hard, saying that she needs to be this rough to achieve the distinctive braid patterns. Thankfully, Rei usually does your hair most of the time.

One of the main reasons you've begged Rei to let you cut your hair short is how much time she (and you) would safe. Since your hair is so long, it takes a lot of time for Rei to put in hair masks, serums, oils, etc. It takes even longer to wash and dry them out, and then style them as well. But she smiled oh so kindly, and told you that she doesn't mind. She looks forward to taking care of your hair, forcing you to sit between her legs for hours as she applies some expensive magic growth oil, ignoring how you didn't like this.

And even if your hair is curly naturally, like even 4C curly hair, Rei will have it straight as a stick in no time (don't bother telling her that you like it natural). But don't worry, its still quite voluminous.

Of course, Rei washes your hair herself, telling you that you’re simply not capable enough to manage it. (At least she lets you wash your body yourself.) And due to your hair being so long, it takes time to not only wash it, but also dry it. Rei will detangle using a wide tooth comb, starting from the bottom and working her way up. Then she’ll dry it with her cold breath, and if required, call Enji to dry your hair with his heat. You like it when Enji dries your hair, because he does it quickly and your hair becomes far smoother.

And its not just Rei and Fuyumi that are obsessed with your hair, the boys are just as fond of it as well. Enji likes to card his fingers through your hair while he’s working on some papers or listening to news, his warm hands always putting you to sleep in his lap. Its an adorable sight, gives him a sense of peace.

Shotou also likes to run his hands through your long hair, especially after a stressful day. The feeling of his fingers through your smooth, long locks, it calms him. And if he’s feeling extra stressed, then he might braid your hair loosely as well. He always wears a scrunchie on his wrist for you.

You wouldn't ever admit it, but you enjoy it when Natsuo played with your hair. Its like he can sense when you're having a headache. He'll have you sit on the floor while he takes a seat on your bed, and then his fingers will do their magic. He knows exactly where to put pressure on your scalp, and exactly how much force to use. His massages always relieve your migraines, and he always massages with expertise to ensure their is proper blood flow in your scalp.

While you are more than happy to let Natsuo touch your hair, you hate it when Dabi's around. If you didn't know better, you'd think he wants to rip your scalp off. He knows how much it annoys you, always pulling at your ponytails, tugging at your braids, even yanking it a few times when you ignore him. And you've complained to your family, but all of them say that "oh he's just playing around." Or "no, he just misses you. He's only teasing." And when you ask Dabi to stop it, he'll just smile and say "big brother privileges."

He's insufferable.

Everyone gets to play with your hair, but God forbid if you do. Oh no, apparently you'd "destroy it", as if you're not capable of managing your own hair. You're not allowed to open your ponytails because, quoting Rei, "you're yanking your hair. You're going to rip your follicles- baby, stop. Just let me do it." But you know that she does that because she wants to brush your hair with the soft, bristle brush before you go to bed. And somedays, Rei doesn't tie your hair in a bun or something, letting your hair fall, and it gets in your way, and even then you're still not allowed to put it up because "oh honey, your hair needs to breathe too. If you keep it in a pony, the band will leave a mark in it." Honestly, everyone finds it adorable when you're dressed in your little, fluffy skirt paired with a cozy oversized sweater, all mad and pouting, trying to blow the hair strands blocking your field of vision. Like a little baby.

While Rei looks at your hair and sees years of her hards work and patience, all you see is losing control over your own life. And you are. They decide everything for you, from the clothes you wear, the food you eat, and even things you should like and dislike. They choose when you should go out, what you should watch, when its time for bed. They disregard your opinions and feelings, and if you show that you're frustrated, then its means that you're just throwing a "tantrum", and you need to be put to bed like some cranky child. You've told them that they're too overbearing, but they always say that they just love you.

What kind of love is controlling?

They're so lost in their delusions, that they don't even see the deteriorating effects it has on you mentally.

Actually, one person did see them. Dabi.

He saw how much everything was overwhelming you, how you were near tears when they talked over you, made choices for you.

He felt a bit bad for you, just a tad. Mostly, he felt there was another opportunity to mess with you.

When Dabi came to bother you one night, tugging at your hair again, this time a bit harder than usual, he saw you were ready to cry. You didn't even bother saying anything to him anymore, just kept quiet and did your best not to cry. Of course, now he ridiculed you. Called you a little crybaby and used that annoying patronising tone with you. And just as he was about to leave, he said "if your hair bothers you so much, why don't you just cut it, you big baby?"

As if something had finally snapped in you, you let his words echo. Why don't I cut it? What's stopping me?

Was it because you had learned to just give in?

You didn't even realise you had walked to your bathroom until you were holding a pair of scissors. Which surprised you, because you weren't allowed to use scissors unsupervised. It was almost as if a sign from the universe motivating you to do it, and definitely not Dabi who left them on the sink.

Holding the pair of scissors in one hand and a chunk of your hair in the other, you hesitate for a second and wonder what will Rei do. But before you could stop yourself, you cut.

I'll cross that bridge when it comes.

You start low, maybe 2 inches above your hips. It looks okay, but maybe you could cut a little more. And a little more. And a little more. Before you know it, your hair is around shoulder length, in an uneven, chunky bob. Its not perfect, but somehow you feel much better. Like you’ve finally gotten some control back. Wiping your tears away, you ruffle your hair a bit, the cool air on your neck adding to the feeling of freedom. You feel normal, happier, peaceful. Things you haven't felt in years. And all because you had 3 am meltdown.

After you cleaned up the bathroom, you went back to bed, anxious how everyone will react in the morning. Maybe they won't care. You thought. Its only hair. My hair.

Everyone was waiting for you at breakfast the next morning, and to everyone’s surprise, Dabi had joined them as well. Rei was cooking up some eggs, while the kids chatted. Enji was suspicious of the mischievous glint in Dabi’s eyes, and it was filling him with unease. Just as he was about to question him, you walked in.

Everyone went silent.

Then Fuyumi let out an audible gasp, while Dabi chuckled darkly. Natsuo, Shotou and Enji looked at you with their mouths agape.

“Good morning.”you greeted them.

Rei, who was facing away from you, finally turned towards you. “Good mo-”Rei’s breath hitched, eyes blown wide, as the plate of bacon fell from her hands.

Its funny how everyone in the kitchen, including you, had the same thought at that moment.

What the fuck?

Taking a deep breath, you moved to sit in your usual spot between Fuyumi and Rei, but Shotou suddenly pulled you back and pushed you into the seat beside him. He knows his mother is in a better state mentally, but something tells him not to risk it. Fuyumi snapped next, quickly getting up and cleaning the mess on the floor while Enji pulled Rei, who was still staring at you in disbelief, to sit beside him. You remained indifferent to everyone’s stares, quietly eating your food. As soon as you were done, Shotou got up and quickly pulled you out of the room, Dabi following close behind.

They sat in your room as Shotou looked at your hair with worry. “Looking nice, doll.”Dabi chuckled as he plopped down on your bed beside you. “Thanks.” you mumbled. “Y/n how did- why did you- why did you cut your hair?” Shotou asked, still looking at your choppy hair. “Do you not like it?” you asked. “N-no I do. But what will mom say-” “Shotou, its my hair.” you snapped. “Yeah, Shotou.” Dabi mocked. Fuyumi and Natsuo soon joined you guys, worrisome looks on their faces. “Why did you cut it? Oh my god, do you even know how much trouble you’re in?” Fuyumi was freaking out. “Its my hair.” you rolled your eyes. They ignored you. “Okay, okay. Shotou why don't you stick around with Y/n for a couple of days? Fuyumi and dad will try to keep mom away from her.” Before Fuyumi could nod, you stood up. “No.”

Natsuo looked at you confused. “what do you mean “no”?”

“I mean no. I don't need Shotou to babysit me. I can handle myself.” Fuyumi walked towards you, reaching her hands for you but you backed away, “Y/n, sweetie-” You cut her off ,“Stop treating me like a child.”

Shotou spoke this time, “Its for your protection-” “Protection from who? Our mother? Why?”your words dared them to say the truth. To agree that Rei was unstable. They didn't say anything.

A few days had passed by and things were returning to normal. Almost normal. Rei still had this thousand yard stare when she looked at you, but she never said anything. Cutting your hair was the best decision you had made, because not is it only easy to manage, but it also got the family off your back. Rei doesn't wash your hair anymore(although you think she's just not over the shock), Fuyumi doesn't need to do your hair, they dry faster, and all of your brothers (including Dabi) doesn't mess around with them anymore. Enji was the first to adjust to your new cut, he even complimented you one day.

Did you feel guilty because you know how attached Rei was to your hair? A bit, but then realised that you needed this. You need some control over your life, and if this is how they react to your new cut, then maybe you could start taking back reigns over other aspects of your life as well.

You thought that maybe Rei had finally gotten over it a week later, when you were laying in the bathtub, enjoying the hot bath. When you heard her walk in, you were a bit startled. Why was she here- is she finally over it? "Um- hey." She smiled at you. "Why are you here?" She took the bath stool and sat behind the tub. "You know why." She replied and started rolling her sleeves up. Is she here to wash my hair? "Oh, are you here to wash my hair? I don't need help with that anymore now that they're short." Rei smiled again, this one looking forced, before dipping her hand in the tub. "No, silly." And with that, Rei froze the entire the tub in 2 seconds. The ice trapped your limbs, and reached up to your clavicle. The sudden change from hot to cold had you jolt, but you couldn't move due to the frozen ice. "Mom-!" You heard the buzzing sound of a trimmer and then felt Rei entangle her fingers in your hair to yank your head back. "I'm here to complete your haircut." You tried moving your head but her grip on your scalp was unrelenting. She started trimming the right side of your head, moving it slowly as to get every single hair. "Honestly, you should've come to me. I do agree that it'd be a good idea to start again." Tears fell from your eyes, your teeth chattered and you could feel your heart beat slow down as the cold seeped into your bones. "M-mom, I'm col-d. P-please s-stop..." Rei was done with one half of your head. "You know, I read somewhere that your grows thicker if you cut it. I'm sure that after I've shaved your head, your hair will grow even fuller. I've already gotten some new oils and hair masks! Maybe we could do them together." You couldn't hear anything besides the slowing of your own heart beating. Your breath had started to become shallow, you couldn't think about anything except for how painful ice could be. Your lips were turning blue, eyes were getting clouded with black spots, all sensation from your body was losing. Just before you lost consciousness, you heard the bathroom door open and a panicked yell.

You felt warm.

When you came to, your entire body felt warm and weighted, probably due to the heavy blanket spread on you.

Opening your eyes, you found yourself in a dimly lit room. It was...your parents room. Why am I here? You turned your head to look around but your eyes stopped at the large figure sitting on a chair next to your bed.

"Dad?"

The figure's head snapped towards yours. "You're awake." He paused. "How- how are you feeling?" You moved the blanket off you, your body felt dense and ached. "Warm and...sore. What happened? Why am I in your bedroom?" Enji shifted in his seat. "I think its best if you stay here from now on, so that... your mother and I can look after you." Your eyes widened. "What? Why?" You moved to sit up but then a pain shot through your head. "Ah shit." You hissed in pain as you went to massage your temples but your hands halted at the feeling of your hair... or lack there of. You tried to run a finger through your choppy bob cut, but all you felt was your shaved head. Your eyes met Enji's, looking at him in disbelief as you recalled the events that had led up to this. "Darling-" You jumped off the bed and ran towards the vanity mirror, praying that this is just a nightmare. But as you looked at your reflection, you realised that this was the terrifying reality you were living in.

Tears dripped from your eyes as you took in your appearance. Trimmed- no, shaved pink hair. You couldn't see a single bit of hair above the roots, only a baby pink scalp. She had not only trimmed your hair first but then also proceeded to shave your scalp off. Your head looked like it had peach fuzz.

You couldn't bring yourself to look away, not even when Enji placed a hand on your shoulder. "Y/n-" He didn't even what to say. He was still in shock from what would've happened if Fuyumi hadn't yelled for him when Rei was-

Enji shook his head. Now's not the time. You're here and you're fine. You're fine. Enji pulled you towards him, burying your face in his chest as you cried. "You're fine." He repeated, more to himself than to you. "Why- why would she do this?" Your voice was muffled by his chest but he understood. He understood your pain and it tore him apart that he still wouldn't be able to help you.

Enji honestly didn't know what to tell you. He didn't know what words would bring you comfort. "It... it was an accident." His chest rumbled as he spoke. You pushed yourself away from him as you looked at him perplexed.

"What?" Your eyebrows raised, nostrils flared and blood rushed to your face. You were going to blow up.

"An accident? Is that what you said? Oh okay. Was it an accident when she froze the fucking tub? Did the trimmer accidentally fall from her hands to my head?! Oh and did she accidentally pull the razor over my head?!" Angry tears fell from your eyes but you were far too enraged to care.

Enji opened his mouth to say something but he was cut off by the sound of the bedroom door opening. Turning around you saw her.

Rei was standing there with a tray of food and water. Her face turned to shock before turning to happiness. She set the tray on a nearby table before she rushed towards you, her hands reaching for your face.

"Angel, you're awake-" you pushed her hands away roughly as you backed away from her.

"Dont you dare touch me."

The couple, they had never heard your voice such hostility. It wasn't like you. Rei shook her head as she tried to reach for you again, taking another step in your direction. But you smacked her hands away again. "I said don't touch me!" Your yelling had got your siblings to rush in the room, wanting to see what the commotion was about.

Rei's eyes shifted from you to Enji, looking at him for help, before they returned back to you. She took a deep breath before speaking. "Y/n, darling. What's wrong?" You scoffed at her soft tone that tried to quell the storm of negative emotions bubbling inside you. "What's wrong? What's wrong? I don't know, you tell me, Rei. Why the fuck am I bald?!" Your head was pounding with rage, raw unbridled anger.

When Rei didn't say anything, Fuyumi stepped forward to help her out. "Y/n its-"

"Shut up."

Fuyumi's- everyone's eyes widened. Of everyone, you never even rose your voice at your favourite sibling. But to hear your voice turn so cold towards her, it shocked everyone. "Y-Y/n-" she tried again but you cut her off. "I said shut up. I'm not talking to you. I'm talking to Rei and she'll answer for herself."

Enji placed a hand on your shoulder, pulling you back slightly. "Have some respect. She's your mother-" You yanked your shoulder away from his grip. "No, she's not!" You inhaled deeply, trying to stabilise your voice. "No, she's not. You're not my dad. I'm not a part of this family. And I'm so sick of playing this game."

Dabi's eyes narrowed. "Stop being an ungrateful brat. You've been given all the luxuries one could only imagine, spoiled to no end-" You laughed. "Did I ask for anything?" "You never had t-" "And all these luxuries that you're talking about, I didn't get them for free. I had to give up a lot. No, wait-" you laughed again, tears blurring your vision. "I didn't give up anything. You all took it. Yeah, all of you snatched everything away from me. My family, my friends, my privacy, my sanity, everything. And you-" you moved towards Rei, pointing a finger at her. "You have been the most greedy one of them all."

Rei's jaw fell open, as she shook her head. "No-" You shook your head.

"Yes! I gave you everything. I let you dress me up in those god awful clothes, feed me whatever you wanted, stick to your side like glue because you don't like it when I was out of your sight for a more than a few minutes. For fucks sake, I didn't even go to college this year because you weren't ready to see me become an adult!" You ran a frustrated hand through your hair. "I played into your sick little fantasy. I let you treat me like a child, talk to me like I'm some helpless baby. I let you touch me even though it disgusted me to no end. I never even complained when you gave me ice burns because I was throwing a tantrum." You looked at the rest of your family, and they were shocked to hear that last bit. You smiled cruelly at them. "Yeah, you didn't know that did you?"

Rei was crying herself by now, as she reached out for you once again but you moved away. "I let you have everything. All I wanted was this little bit of freedom, for my own sanity. But you couldn't stomach that could you?" Your head hung low, your tears hitting the floor.

"Why do you have to be so selfish?"

Your voice held so much pain and defeat. Rei couldn't help but engulf you in her arms, wrapping herself around you tightly before you could even protest. "I'm sorry! I'm sorry!" She cried out. "I- I promise I'll fix this! Yes. I-I've already gotten you some new hair oils! They say that they'll help you grow 6 inches in a month! Oh and Natsuo also brought some stuff for hair growth! Some vitamins and- Natsuo whats that spray called? Minoxy? Mi-minoxidil! Yes! He said that'll help you grow your hair in no time! Doesn't that sound nice? You'll have long hair like before!" Rei pushed back to look at you. You couldn't believe it.

"Are you- are you really that delusional?" Your voice was so soft, almost like you would break any moment now. "Are you so blind to see what you're doing to me?" Your eyes held so much pain and confusion. "Sweetie, don't worry- mommy will take such good care-" You pushed Rei away from you, your anger rolling back in full speed. "YOU ARE NOT MY MOTHER!" You shrieked. "Y/n-" Shotou tried to interject. "I'm not a part of your fucking family."

Enji stepped towards you. "Calm down."

You looked at him. "You said that what happened was an accident. What will you do if another one happens? And you're not around this time to save me? Hmm? What will you do? Continue playing house with my dead body?!"

Rei's sobs shook her body. "Shut up. Think before you say stupid shit like that." Dabi spoke this time, moving to stand between you and his mother. "Or what? You're going to hurt me? More the reason why all of you, but especially you-" you pointed at Rei "deserve to be in that nuthouse-!"

You were on the floor before you could even process what had happened. Had you- had you fallen? But when the searing pain of the burn on your cheek came alive and you looked at his hand that had erupted in blue flames, you realised what had happened.

Dabi slapped you.

"Y/n!"

Your cheek felt like someone had placed a hot iron on it, the sting spreading to your entire cheek, but you were far too shocked to care about the pain.

Dabi slapped me.

Shotou, Natsuo and Fuyumi quickly rushed to your side, picking you up and out of the room, while Dabi stood there in stunned as his own hand throbbed. The image of his handprint branded on your scared face wasn't going to leave his mind anytime soon.

Enji hesitated, looking at his wife and son in disbelief, before leaving the room to look for you.

Rei walked towards Dabi and smacked his arm. "What did you do?!" She yelled at him. He opened his mouth to explain but nothing came out.

"She's your little sister, Touya! W-why would you do that?!" Rei scolded him.

He hurt you. Like Enji hurt Rei.

He hurt you.

Rei sighed before closing her eyes and engulfing Dabi in her arms. "Its okay. Its not your fault." She rubbed his back soothingly. "It was an accident, wasn't it?"

Dabi wrapped his arms around his mother, burying his face in her neck, before nodding.

"Yes. It was an accident."

So... how was it?

[rendevousz]

niagara falls of blood?

avengers x fem!teen!reader

summary: pretty much what the title is, you on your period

warnings: your moodswings ig

word count: 2765

"rise and shine, y/n!" you hear an annoying voice sing just as the lights flickered on. you grumbled something inaudible, hiding underneath your blanket to shield yourself from the brightness that steve just brought upon your room.

"y/n/n, come on. wakey-wakey!" you groan, feeling super unmotivated to train today. you even felt like punching steve in his perfect-looking face just for waking you up at the crack ass of dawn. this was unusual because you loved jogs before the sun came up and trainings before it hit noon.

"steve, if you don't shut the hell up right now, i'm gonna push you into that lake beside our usual jogging route."

"jeez, y/n, woke up on the wrong side or what?" he teases, finally leaving once he saw you were already sitting up. you groggily walked to the bathroom to wash your face and brush your teeth before changing into your workout clothes.

"no!" you whine when you saw that you were on your period. that's why you were in a crappy mood when steve woke you up. you begrudgingly dressed up after putting on a pad, grabbing a small towel on the way out.

like you did every morning, you were gonna go on a run with steve, bucky and sam. while you loved running, you hated how steve and bucky "cheated" —as you and sam liked to call it— with their super soldier staminas. that was why you loved having sam there. not only was he great company but he was also moral support because you two would always be hilariously overtook by steve and bucky multiple times. but that didn't matter because you two would always be completely immersed in your conversations every time.

but not today though. you already knew today was going to be different. you had gotten a bad start to the day with steve's and your usual morning routine which somehow annoyed you this one time. and having to run around with your cramps definitely didn't help lighten your mood.

"kid, you okay?" sam asks from your right side. you'd been silent throughout the whole run and sam knew something was up when you didn't laugh at his jokes like how you usually would. "just cramps. they're hurting a lot so i'm probably gonna skip training today." you explain and he slowed down his pace causing you to slow down too since you always had to run side by side.

"y/n/n, you should probably stop now if you're having cramps. it might make it worse—i think? i don't know, actually. i don't know how periods work but i know cramps hurt a lot so i think you should stop. yeah, you should stop." his rambling speech made you feel a bit better now knowing he wants you to take care of yourself. "you know what? yeah, i think i'm gonna go. sorry i have to leave you with the two cheaters."

he smiled at you, telling you not to worry about it. you were touched and your mood significantly brightened but before you could reply him, rhythmic footsteps echoed from a distance from behind you two and you knew what was coming.

"on your left."

before steve and bucky could just pass by peacefully like they did the past nine times, you managed to throw a punch to steve's side, effectively slowing him down when he stumbled and then completely stopped. "what gives, y/n?!" bucky then stopped too, wanting to know what was up.

"that's for this morning." you glared at him and he looked at you in confusion, holding onto his side where you punched him. though you were significantly smaller than he was—than any of them were, really—, you could definitely throw a punch. speaking of punch, you gave him another on his other side and he flinched, giving you an incredulous look, one that resembled betrayal.

"and that's for being a cheater." you narrowed your eyes at him. "oN yOuR LeFt." you mocked him, rolling your eyes before ultimately leaving the trio to walk back to the tower. they looked at your fading figure and exchanged looks with each other in confusion. "what...what just happened?"

"y/n's on her period so we gotta be careful with her." sam explained and steve being steve, his cheeks tinted slight pink as the thought slightly embarrassed him.

"period? you mean the niagra falls of blood," bucky states, taking a long sip out his water bottle. sam rolled his eyes at this but nodded anyways. "also, she doesn't want training today so unless any of you have a death wish, don't call her down for anything other than for food, got it?"

"yes, sir."

"got it."

-

"you do it,"

"i don't want to, you do it."

"can one of you just do it? why don't you guys want to wake y/n up?" nat stopped bucky and steve's little argument as she turned away from the stove for a bit. "you two love waking her up and carrying her down to eat. what happened?"

"womanhood happened," steve mumbled bitterly, rubbing his sides where you hit him this morning. apparently you had hit him hard enough to bruise a little. nat rolled her eyes in realisation. "period?"

"no, no, not period. satan's montly ritual inside of y/n. you should've seen her this morning, nat. it was like she was possessed!" steve exaggerates. "okay, let's not be dramatic here," bucky rolls his eyes at his best friend. steve only looked at him with fear in his eyes and bucky sighs. "fine, i'll do it. but if i don't return, tell sam he still can't have my snacks. no one can have my snacks."

nat only shakes her head before turning back to the stove to finish cooking lunch.

meanwhile, bucky was making his way up to your room. deep down he was scared to face you after your episode in the morning. "y/n/n? doll, it's lunch." he spoke when he entered your room. he melted when he saw you all snuggled up in bed, asleep, hugging your life-sized teddy bear that tony gifted you last christmas.

"doll? time to eat," he whispered, gently shaking you awake. you slowly opened your eyes to see bucky sitting on your bed, trying to wake you up from your nap. "what time is it?" you asked, rubbing your eyes, your lips jutting out subconsciously. bucky internally cooed at how adorable you looked. "it's afternoon, you skipped breakfast so nat wants you to eat lunch." he tells you.

"tell her i'm sleepy," you said, adjusting yourself back under the blanket. "y/n/n, you gotta eat. nat's gonna kill me if i go back down there without you." he shakes you again and you look up at him with you doe eyes. "then don't go back down. cuddle me, jamesie!" you pouted, giving him your best sad puppy look.

he had a brief internal battle with himself before losing and giving in, slipping next to you and hugging you, providing you warmth that even your blanket couldn't provide. bucky knew nat would have his head but how could he say no to that adorable face? and you using his real name? ultimate weakness.

soon, you were back asleep, cuddling up to him. he smiled down at you, loving how peaceful you seemed when you were sleeping. and before he knew it, he too fell asleep.

-

"what's taking him so long?" nat huffed and steve's jaw dropped slightly, looking at her in worry. "who's telling sam he can't have bucky's snacks?"

"don't be ridiculous, steve. go get them or i'm telling sam he can't have your snacks too." steve sighs, getting up from the barstool and making his way up to your room.

safe to say he was expecting pretty much anything but the sight of you and bucky asleep, cuddled up to each other. steve's lips jutted out and he cooed at you both. he snapped a quick picture before approaching you two, sitting on your bed beside your sleeping figure.

"y/n/n? sweetie, you need to eat." he says softly as he shook you awake. the shaking seemed to wake bucky up too and when your eyes fluttered open, steve smiled down at you. "bubba? it's lunch," he looks over at bucky in disappointment for having fallen asleep when he had a task. bucky only shrugs his shoulders as if saying 'hey man, i had no choice'.

"stevie?" you groaned out and he smiled. "come on, let's go have lunch, nat is waiting downstairs." he tries to get you to sit up but you resist. "come sleep, stevie," you pulled the same trick you did with bucky and it's no surprise the blond super-soldier fell for it too. everyone had a soft spot for you.

steve laid next to you and you're then sandwiched between two super-soldiers, already falling back asleep in just seconds.

"you know nat's gonna kill us, right buck?"

"then let her try. we can use y/n/n to get out of it. i mean, can you even recall the last time anyone said no to that adorable face?"

"sam says no to her sometimes."

"yeah but he always ends up feeling bad so,"

"okay yeah, you're right."

"that's exactly why we're stuck in this situation, right dear ol' stevie? so i say we just sleep and if nat tries to scold us, we'll technically be under y/n/n's protection because nat won't scream in our faces in front of her."

"good call. night, buck."

"night, steve."

-

"i can't believe i sent two super-soldier idiots to go wake up y/n on her period. i didn't think they meant it literally when they were afraid they weren't gonna come back." nat paces around the kitchen and wanda watches in amusement. it had been almost a whole hour since bucky was sent to get you and thirty minutes since steve was sent to do so too and both men hadn't returned with you for lunch.

"do you really think y/n/n is having a temper tantrum or something and those idiots are caught in the middle of it?" nat asks and wanda shook her head. "i doubt. y/n can get a little cranky but only if provoked. y/n on her period is overall a sweetheart like she always is. maybe steve was being annoying this morning. i mean, he always is annoying during morning jogs because he always has to announce when he overtakes us." wanda rolls her eyes at the fact.

"okay, you know what? come with me to get them. i mean with our joint forces, there's no way we're going to get sucked into whatever those idiots did. let's go,"

nat didn't give the younger woman a chance to reply before she's storming upstairs to your room and wanda had no choice but to rush along.

-

"well? are we going to wake them up or what?" wanda asks nat, not taking her eyes off the adorable sight she was met with right as she entered your room.

"i want to get mad at steve and bucky for not waking her up because she hasn't eaten yet but somehow i can't." nat states, looking like she's having an existential crisis.

"well, no lunch for these three, i guess. they better have dinner though or i'm actually going to get mad. let's go, wands." nat closes your door, but not before snapping a pic of you three cuddled up and sending it to the group chat.

nat: [attached photo]

peter: OMG SHE LOOKS SO TINY AND ADORABLE SQUISHED IN BETWEEN THOSE TWO 🥺🥺🥺

tony: IS THAT SAFE? CAN MY BABY EVEN BREATHE PROPERLY?????? NAT WHY ARE YOU JUST LETTING IT HAPPEN

wanda: stark, she's fine

thor: aw, i hope lady y/n gets all the rest she needs. she looks peaceful 🥰

clint: wait no fair i wanna cuddle her too 🥺😭

sam: dang it does this mean i still can't have bucky's snacks

bucky: stay away from my snacks.

-

"look who finally decided to show." you hear tony tease when you finally came down to dinner.

after waking up an hour prior, you woke up the two super-soldiers sandwiching you by pushing them off your bed. they couldn't even be mad at you when you had burst out in contagious laughter at your own stunt, before leaving to let you wash up.

"how are you feeling, sweetie?" bruce asks you as you sat in between him and tony on the dining table. "i'm good, bruce, why do you ask?"

"we've been hearin' a lot about you today, cupcake." tony winks at you before continuing to eat his food. you pout at him. "bad things?"

"no, no, no, not bad things, never bad things. you're the sweetest little cupcake and everyone loves you. now eat your food," tony pretends to make an angry face at you and you listen to him, smiling as you do so.

after dinner, you decided to lounge in the common room for a bit to watch tv and thor, clint, wanda and sam decide to join you.

"what are we watching?" sam asks as he plops down next to you on the couch. "i don't know, i'm kinda in the mood to watch my little pony." you quipped happily. "my little pony? that stupid ponies cartoon where the purple unicorn has magic and becomes a princess?"

"it's not stupid," you muttered under your breath, suddenly getting upset that he thought my little pony was stupid. "if you guys don't want to watch, i guess we can watch whatever you want." you told the rest who were already seated, a sad expression on your face.

"bubs! of course we want to watch it! right, sam?" wanda glares at sam as she asked him through gritted teeth. "y–yes! yes, we'll watch my little pony!" he replies quickly. "okay!" you cheer, leaning back against the couch as you turned the show on.

after an episode was done, you seemed to have gotten the others hooked on it because they asked for another episode. well, except for sam because he decided one episode was enough and it was time to sleep so he left.

"okay," you giggled, happy that they liked the show. "but i'm going to go get my snacks first." you walked to the kitchen to quickly get your bag of pretzels from the pantry. you were pretty sure it was the period moodswings that were causing your emotions to be all over the place because you cried. you cried because you were so excited to go get your snacks, only to find that it had been stolen.

you trudged back into the living room with a tear-stained face and wanda immediately stands up. "bubs, what's wrong?" she held both your shoulders as she looked down at you. you hiccup. "i–i think pete took my pretzel sticks." you pouted to try keep the incoming tears at bay but they managed to drop anyways.

"i'll kill him," clint stands up, hands held out in a fighting stance. "how dare he steal y/n/n's snacks." wanda rolls her eyes at his antics and gives him a look that tells him to back down.

"lady y/n," thor calls from his spot on the couch. you turn to him. "i have a stash of poptarts if you want?" he offered and as kind as his intentions were, you only wanted your pretzel sticks. you dropped down to the floor, staring silently into nothing.

"y/n," clint places a hand on your shoulder, trying to get you to get up but you didn't. you looked up at him with a small pout and glossy eyes and he cracked. "alright, thor, come with me to the grocery store. we're getting y/n/n's snacks,"

thor immediately gets up, following clint out the door. you couldn't believe that the avengers' own archer and god of thunder were willing to go out just to buy you snacks.

twenty minutes later, they came back with bags of different snacks but most importantly, your pretzel sticks. you ran to them, giving them the biggest hug you could give, prompting chuckles and hair ruffles from them. "anything for you, kiddo."

despite having just gotten your snack, you fell asleep ten minutes into the next episode and thor goes to carry you back to your room. he sets you down gently on your bed, pulling your blanket up so that you were warm.

"sleep well, lady y/n." he kisses the side of your head before leaving. and sleep well you did because you had an awesome family take care of you.

taglist <3

@amourtentiaa

[criminalmindzjunkie]

Reassurance

masterlist

part one

Summary: Spencer feels insecure, and Reader puts his worries to rest. 

A/N: I got several requests to write a follow-up to Avoidance , and after writing almost the whole entire thing, only to scrap it all because it was literal trash, here we are! I initially planned to go a different route with this, but it didn’t flow right and I ended up changing the entire plot line somewhere along the way. I really like how this turned out, and I hope you guys enjoy it, too!

Pairing: sub!Spencer/femdom!Reader

Content warnings: cursing, Spencer being insecure, hand job, oral sex (male receiving), anal fingering, pegging, light degradation, Spencer experiencing sub-drop

Word Count: 6k

           Spencer’s lips drag against mine at a slow, deliberate pace as I sit perched on his lap, my hands tugging lightly at where his hair curls at the nape of his neck. One particularly harsh tug has Spencer gasping into my mouth and tightening his grip on my hips, pulling me down until I’m fully sat on his lap. The bulge tenting his slacks comes in full contact with my clothed core and I hum appreciatively against his lips.

           “Getting excited there, baby?”

           Spencer lets out a whine of protest when I pull away, leaning forward in an attempt to reunite our lips. I press my hand flat against his chest and push him back until he rests against the couch cushions.

           “I thought you wanted to watch a movie tonight?” I ask him, my lips curled up into a knowing smile. Spencer’s thumbs begin to rub soothing circles into my hips as he fixes me with a shy smile.

           “Maybe later,” he replies, sheepish. He looks breathtaking - bathed in the soft glow of the lamp light, shadows dancing across every perfectly chiseled inch of his face. Faint purple bruises dot the underside of his jaw line, remnants of the last time we had been afforded enough time to get tangled up under the bedsheets. I press my thumb to one of them, applying just enough pressure to cause Spencer’s breath to hitch. In another day or two, the purple and yellow discoloration would be gone, leaving no trace of our time together.

           I release my hold on his jaw and make a mental note to see to it that he has another set of pretty marks before the weekend is over.

           “Later?” I lift the hand that was splayed across his chest until I’m able to fiddle with the top button on his dress shirt. “You talk as if you have something else you’d like to do first. Care to share?”            Spencer squirms underneath my gaze, eyes flitting between my lips and where I’m pressed firmly against his erection. I watch him flounder to come up with a response before deciding to forgo words completely and rut himself against me, eyelids fluttering closed as he lets out a low whine.

           I click my tongue at him and raise up until my center hovers over him, torturously close but not quite close enough to touch.

           “What’s the matter, Doctor? It’s not like you to be at a loss for words,” I taunt as I pop open the last three buttons of his shirt. Now that the milky white skin of his chest is on full display, I waste no time in dragging my fingernails from his collarbone down to his navel, light and teasing. The action elicits a shiver from Spencer, who looks up at me with glossy eyes and blown pupils.

           “P-Please,” he stutters out.

           “Please, what?” I prod, cocking my head to the side. “Tell me what you want, baby.”

           Spencer’s tongue pokes out to run across his bottom lip.

           “I want you,” he breathes out, low and sultry. “Now. Don’t wanna wait.”

           I let out a pleased sigh as I lean forward to capture Spencer’s lips in a heated kiss. Spencer’s quick to reciprocate, eagerly licking into my mouth as soon as my lips brush against his.

           It’s not long until I feel the hands on my waist begin to tug me back down onto his lap, eliciting a giggle from me.

           “Such a needy little thing,” I murmur against his lips.

           Usually, a comment like this would be met by some sort of mumbled affirmation. But this time, as soon as the words leave my mouth, I feel Spencer’s whole body tense up beneath me.

           “Does… Does that bother you?”

           I pull away and give Spencer an inquisitive look.

           “Does what bother me?”

           Spencer averts his eyes, “That I’m so submissive.” He spits the word out like it burns his mouth – like it’s something to be ashamed of – and I can’t suppress my frown.

           “Why would that ever bother me?”

           Spencer gives a feeble shrug of his shoulders, still refusing to pull his gaze from where it rests on the floor.

           “I read an article in Psychology Today that discussed a survey in which 172 German adults completed a personality questionnaire and then measured their own preference for a dominant partner. Not only was the general consensus that both genders prefer dominant partners, the participants also agreed with statements like ‘a very nice partner is often boring’ and ‘I feel attracted to assertive partners.’ So, it’s only natural that you might get tired of me always being such a pushover and search for a more exciting partner than can keep you stimulated-”

           I clamp my hand down on Spencer’s mouth, effectively ending his self-deprecating rant and forcing him to look up from where his eyes were burning a hole into the floor. When I know he isn’t going to try and continue down that particularly awful train of thought, I remove my hand.

           “First of all, you are not a pushover. Insinuating that you are a pushover would also be insinuating that I’m taking advantage of you. Do you feel like I’m taking advantage of you?” Spencer’s eyes grow wide and he frantically shakes his head.

           “Absolutely not. I… I love what you do to me – with me. What we do together. I-I just want to be sure that you like it to. That you’re not just humoring me until someone who can actually give you what you want comes around.”

           I feel my mouth fall open from shock somewhere during the middle of his spiel. He can’t actually be so oblivious to the fact that I enjoy the hell out of our sex life, can he?

           Apparently, he can and he is, because Spencer takes my silence as affirmation.

           “I could try? To d-dom you, that is. I’ve been reading up on it and-”

           “Spencer, where on earth did this come from?”

           Spencer blinks hard, “I told you – I read it in Psychology Today.”

           I shake my head at him and slip off of his lap and onto the couch cushion beside him.

           “No, that’s not what I meant. What made you think that I’m not happy with our sex life?”

           “N-Nothing in particular,” Spencer stammers. “I just know that I’m not exactly the most masculine guy, and I want to make sure that you’re, you know… happy. With me.”

           And there it is.

           I reach for Spencer’s hand and link our fingers together.

           “This wouldn’t have anything to do with that comment Derek made this morning, would it?” Spencer doesn’t answer, but the way his eyes drop to his lap tells me everything I need to know. I tighten my grip on his hand. “You know he was just messing with you, right? As out of line as it was, he was just being… Derek.”

           “He wasn’t wrong, though. I am extremely docile – along with a litany of other very passive traits. I’m not strong or assertive or confident like Derek; I’m basically the complete opposite of the ideal male partner. All I’m good for is spouting out information that’s only sometimes useful. No wonder you don’t want to-” Spencer clamps his mouth shut and his cheeks burn red. “Forget it. C-Can we pretend this conversation never happened?”

           “No wonder I don’t want to what?” I prod, brows furrowed in confusion. But still, Spencer refuses to meet my eyes. “And as far as all the other stuff goes, it doesn’t matter if you’re assertive or strong. I prefer my sweet, gentle boy over guys like Derek Morgan, any day. My ideal male partner just so happens to be pretty boys with curly brown hair and massive IQs, not aggressive alpha males with overinflated egos.” I bring Spencer’s hand up to my lips and place a gentle kiss on his knuckles. “I’m being serious, Spence. There’s a lot to love about you.”

           Spencer’s next words are hushed, so quiet that I almost don’t hear him when he says, “Then why haven’t you told anyone about us yet?”

           In the two months since our first time together, neither of us had been brave enough to broach the subject of what exactly we were doing. With neither of us quite sure how to go about defining the relationship, we’d fallen into a sort of routine. Whenever it came time to pair off for the night and retreat to our hotel rooms, Spencer and I always made sure that we were paired together. Hotch never seemed to care – he was just happy that we weren’t walking on eggshells around each other anymore - and the others were kind enough to keep their suspicions to themselves. On the weekends, or really any time that we weren’t working a case, time off was spent in each other’s company, be it at Spencer’s place or mine. Days full of impromptu adventures to farmer’s markets and niche antique shops devolved into passionate nights spent learning every inch of each other’s skin until no stone was left unturned. It was the perfect arrangement.

           Or at least it would’ve been, if Spencer and I hadn’t managed to fall half way in love somewhere along the way. It was glaringly obvious early on that it was way more than just sexual chemistry that kept us both coming back for more, but owning up to that fact was a whole other issue that neither of us was ready to deal with.

           Until now, apparently.

           “I-I mean, we haven’t talked about what exactly this is, so I wasn’t quite sure how to go about that,” I stammer. “But now that you’ve brought it up…”

           Spencer finally looks up and his eyes are filled to the brim with equal parts fear and hope.

           “I-I really want there to be an us,” he whispers. “I kind of thought that much was obvious.”

           “And I thought the fact that I have absolutely zero complaints in the bedroom was obvious, but here we are,” I tease, and Spencer lets out an involuntary giggle when I poke at his side. “I want there to be an us, too. And for what it’s worth, I like you just the way you are, Spencer Reid - just so we’re clear.”

           “Really?” Spencer persists. From anyone else, it would seem like they were fishing for compliments, but from Spencer? I knew my sweet, darling boy just needed some reassurance.

           I lean forward and capture his lips in a long, languid kiss.

           “Really really,” I mumble when I pull away. “Have I done a thorough enough job drilling that into your head, or do you need some more convincing?”

           “More convincing,” Spencer replies as he ducks in for another kiss. “Lots and lots of convincing.”

           I smile against his lips, “That’s good to hear, because I sorta had a little something special planned for you.”

           “Something special?”

           I slide my hand from its place on his knee until my fingers glide across the tip of his clothed cock.

           “Remember that thing we talked about last week?”

           I can feel the way Spencer’s cock twitches under my hand and I have to bite back a smile.

           “Y-Yeah?”

           I give his bulge a light squeeze that has Spencer moaning low in his throat.

           “Only if you want to. There’s no pressure at all. I don’t want to do anything you’re not comfortable with. I’d be perfectly fine if you just wanna watch that movie and cuddle a bit - you know that right?”

           “Yes, but I still want to,” Spencer chokes out. “Very, very much.” And then he’s bringing a hand up to cup my face before slotting our lips together again.

           The kiss is sloppy, seeing as we’re both much too excited to worry about being precise. Spencer spends time exploring my body with his free hand, starting at my hips and then dipping underneath my t-shirt. Spencer’s hand is just shy of skimming over my bra when I pull back and he lets out a frustrated whine when I pull his hands off of me.

           “I wanna ask you a few things before we do this, okay, baby?” Spencer flushes a deep crimson as he nods. “Have you ever experimented with any sort of anal play before?”

           “N-No, I haven’t. Is that okay?”

           Spencer Reid, you are going to be the death of me.

           “That’s perfectly fine, sweet boy,” I coo. “I’m just trying to get a feel for what’s going to be the most comfortable for you. We’ll start small and work our way up, okay?” Spencer nods, prompting me to tack on an, “Assuming that you want to, that is. This is all on your terms, and I need to make sure that you know that nothing’s going to happen that you don’t expressly consent to first.”

           Spencer’s lips pull up into a sweet smile.

           “I know, and I trust you,” he says. “And I consent to it. To all of it.”

           “You’re gonna have to be a little bit more specific than that,” I chuckle. “What exactly are you consenting to?”

           Spencer shifts in his seat, “Y-You know.”

           “Yes, but I want to hear you say it, baby.”

           Spencer gulps hard, “I-I want you to fuck me. Please.”

           I let out a satisfied hum and remove my hand from Spencer’s lap.

           “I want you to go to the bedroom and take off all your clothes. Then I want you to lie in the center of the bed and if I walk in and see you touching yourself, I’ll walk right back out and I won’t touch you for a month. Are we clear?”

           “Y-Yes, Miss.”

--

           I spend much longer than necessary in the living room, sitting on the couch and scrolling through my phone for nearly ten minutes before getting up and making my way to the bedroom. The anticipation is half of the fun, in my opinion, and I take great pleasure in imagining Spencer squirming against the sheets, desperate for me to walk through that door.

           I rid myself of my skirt and blouse as I make my way down the hallway, leaving me in only my panties and bralette. I can hear Spencer’s heavy breathing before I even reach the bedroom, and it makes my stomach flip excitedly as I push open the door.

           Spencer lays in the middle of the bed, hands grabbing at the sheets as he rolls his hips in vain. His cock stands painfully hard, leaking precum and bobbing up and down with every motion of his hips. Spencer doesn’t see or hear me when I come in – his eyes are closed tight and his bottom lip is nestled between his teeth, blissfully oblivious as he ruts up into nothing.

           “It seems like my poor, needy boy has worked himself up into quite a state.”

           The sound of my voice startles him and he immediately halts the movement of his hips. Spencer’s eyes watch on and I walk over to the night stand, taking my time as I remove a bottle of lube, my harness, and the newly purchased dildo bought especially for my sweet boy.

           Spencer’s eyes linger on the silicone member, wide and curious as I set the items on the bed and crawl in between his legs. He spreads his legs without being prompted, leaving him completely exposed to me, and the action makes my heart swell with pride. My good boy has learned so much in the past two months.

           “M’gonna suck that pretty cock of yours now, and I want you to keep your hips still. Can you do that for me, baby?”

           Spencer nods frantically, “Y-Yes, Miss. Please – I need your mouth. I’ll be still, I promise.”

           I let out a pleased hum as I take him into my hand, dragging my fist up and down, spreading precum across the entirety of his length.

           “I know you will, baby. You’re always so good for me. So eager to please.”

           I lean down and begin placing kisses to the sensitive skin of his thighs, all while continuing to work my hand against him. I nip lightly at the skin above his right hip and Spencer sucks in a ragged breath when I suck a pretty purple bruise in the very same spot. It contrasts starkly with his porcelain skin, and I enjoy the way it looks so much that I continue until a plethora of love bites litter his inner thighs. When I finally sit back and admire my work, Spencer’s writhing so pitifully against the mattress that I decide to put him out of his misery.

           Spencer devolves into a whimpering mess the moment I take his tip into my mouth, his head thrashing wildly against the mattress when I swirl my tongue around him. I take my time with him, not at all rushing my descent onto his cock, choosing instead to tease him with a slow, steady pace. If Spencer minded my slower than usual pace, he didn’t say so. He was too busy choking out an unrelenting string of the most wanton moans I’d ever heard as he watched himself disappear into my mouth.

           I decide now is as good a time as any to up the ante and I pull my mouth away from him.

           “W-Why did you stop?” Spencer stutters, chest heaving up and down.

           I raise an eyebrow at him, “Are you being ungrateful, Doctor? Because if you are, I could always just leave you here like this - cock hard and leaky with no way to get off other than your own hand. That wouldn’t be nearly as fun as having me fuck that pretty little ass of yours.”

           “No, please! I’m so sorry,” Spencer mewls. “I’ll be good, just please don’t leave!”

            I loosely grasp Spencer’s cock in my hand and run my thumb across his slit.

           “You sound so pretty when you beg, baby. I can’t wait to hear how pretty you are when you’re begging for me to fuck you harder.”

           Spencer’s eyes roll back into his head and his mouth hangs open, panting hard.

           “I want it so bad. Please, please, please, Miss.”

           I use my free hand to reach up and push two fingers into Spencer’s mouth, “Suck. I want them real nice and wet so that I can use them to get you ready for me.”

           Spencer moans around my fingers, laving his tongue around the them as he hollows his cheeks. When I retract my fingers from his mouth they’re practically dripping and I reward his effort by tightening my grip on his cock.

           “Good job, baby. Are you ready for me to finger that tight little hole of yours?” I ask him as I release his cock and grab the bottle of lube. I drizzle a healthy amount onto my fingers before dragging one across his puckered hole, eliciting a high-pitched cry from Spencer.

           “Yes!” Spencer gasps as he attempts to wiggle closer. “So ready for you, Miss. Use your f-fingers on me, please!”

           I start by slowly pressing one in, so as not to overwhelm him, and to my endless delight, it glides in almost effortlessly.

           “Already so ready for my fingers, Doctor. You sure you haven’t touched yourself here before?” I ask as I begin to work my finger in and out in slow thrusts.

           “N-Never. O-Only you,” Spencer stutters out between moans. “C-Can you add another, Miss?”

           I pull my finger out, only to add another and resume my efforts at a slightly faster pace. Spencer’s back arches up off the bed when my fingers brush against his prostate and he lets out a half startled, half delighted yelp.

           “Oh fuck!” Spencer moans as he grinds down onto my fingers. “Again, please, Miss!”

I comply, and with every press of my fingers against the fleshy bundle of tissue, Spencer’s body jolts from the sensation.

           “S’that feel good, baby? Do you like how my fingers feel?”

           “Oh, God, yes! F-Feels so good. Never felt like this b-before,” Spencer sobs. “I-I’m getting close, Miss.”

           “I didn’t say that you can cum, baby. I wanna save that for when I’ve got my cock buried inside you. How’s that sound?”

           “Y-Yes, Iwantitsobad,” Spencer slurs, his words running together as he draws nearer and near to the end. “Want you to fuck me, Miss! Please, I’ll do anything-”

           I take pity on him and withdraw my fingers, which makes Spencer keen in protest.

           “Calm down, greedy boy. Just gotta get ready so I can give you what you want.”

           I crawl off of the bed and step into the harness, fastening it in place and making sure that the dildo is secure before I crawl in between his legs. Spencer watches on with rapt fascination as I pour lube into my palm and work it over the silicone cock until every inch of it glistens.

           “What’s your color, baby?” I ask as rub the tip of the cock over his hole.

           Spencer’s breath catches in his throat and his whole-body tenses with anticipation.

           “So green, Miss. So fucking green,” Spencer whimpers.

           I raise a hand up to his hip and begin to rub soothing circles into the skin there.

           “Gonna need you to relax for me, sweetheart. Can you do that?”            Spencer bites his lip and nods his head. I watch as the tension begins to melt away, and when I see him relax back into the mattress, I bring up my hand to stroke his cock. I keep my touch light, barely applying pressure – I knew if I applied too much, Spencer wouldn’t be able to hold out longer than a few thrusts. He was already teetering on the edge as it was.

           Mine and Spencer’s eyes meet and he smiles up at me, dopey and drunk from pleasure, and it’s all the permission I need. I press into him slowly, and I’m left in awe as I watch Spencer Reid completely unravel beneath me.

           “Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck,” Spencer curses, head flying back and hitting the pillows. It never ceases to amaze me at how fucking responsive he is, and tonight is no exception. It’s like his body is a live wire, trembling beautifully as I press in further and further and further. I stop just shy of being fully sheathed inside him, trying to allow him a moment to adjust, but Spencer seems to have other plans.

           “Keep going, Miss, don’t stop, please! I want all of it, please give it to me! I can take it, please let me show you!”

           He looks up at me and those beautiful brown eyes are so wild, so positively feral that I can’t even entertain the idea of denying him any longer.

           Spencer looks positively ruined by the time I bottom out inside him. His hair sticks to the sheen of sweat that gathers on his forehead, and his lips look positively abused from the way he’s been biting down on them. His eyelids flutter closed every few seconds, and every time he blinks them back open, I’m able to see that his pupils are so blown that his eyes look almost black.

           I pull back until all that’s left inside him is the very tip of the cock, and just as he opens that bratty little mouth to beg for more, I give particularly harsh thrust of my hips until I’m fully sheathed inside him. Spencer lets out a surprised cry as I set an unforgiving pace, all the while still loosely jerking him off as I bury myself inside him again and again and again.

           “Yes, yes, yes, yes!” Spencer chants loudly, face contorted beautifully in an expression of pure ecstasy. I spare a brief thought to Spencer’s poor neighbors and make mental note to invest in a ball gag.

           “S’that feel good, baby? You look so pretty taking my cock like the good boy you are. My pretty little cock slut. Such a shame nobody’s fucked you like this before,” I hum as I focus my attention on the head of his cock, thumbing lightly at where he leaks for me.

           “D-Don’t want anyone else, just wanna be good for y-you. Wanna m-make you proud,” Spencer whines, tripping over his words as he struggles to form a coherent sentence. The sentiment sends a jolt of heat down to my already soaking core, but I do my best to ignore the slickness running down my thighs for the time being. Right now, my only focus is the boy chanting my name, praying for a type of salvation that only I can give him.

           I smile down at him and my hand drifts lower to where I’m steadily thrusting in and out of him. Spencer’s body jolts as the pad of my thumb brushes against the sensitive skin of his hole.

           “Of course, I’m proud of you. Look at how well you’re taking me, baby. It’s like you were made to take my cock,” I praise him.

           My words, mixed with the way I’m working both Spencer’s cock and his tight little ass, seem to be getting the better of him, because Spencer doesn’t even try to formulate a response. He just continues to let out strangled moans that almost sound like sobs as his hands grasp at the sheets until his knuckles turn white.

           It doesn’t take long until I feel the muscles in Spencer’s stomach and thighs begin to tense, and when his cock twitches in my hand I can tell Spencer won’t last much longer.

           “Are you gonna cum for me, baby?” I ask him as I grind my hips against his, and Spencer’s reply comes in the form of an incoherent, garbled moan.

           “What’s the matter, baby? Have I fucked you so stupid that you can’t answer me anymore?” I taunt him. I use the leverage I have from the hand placed on his hip to propel myself deeper. “Is my poor dumb baby incapable of replying?”

           Spencer makes a feeble attempt at a reply, “P-Please let me – f-fuck – cum! Oh, God, m’socloseMiss. Harder, please!”

           I take a minute to bask in the way he’s completely fallen apart at my hands - relishing in the way his eyes are glossy and dark with lust, in the way that his chest is flushed a deep red, and in the way that precum beads at the tip of his cock, aching for a release. He looks beautiful like this, whining and squirming, hips grinding down in search of more, more, more. I’d never imagined in a million years that I’d be so lucky as to see the illustrious Spencer Reid fucked absolutely senseless, but here he was, waiting for my permission to throw himself off the edge and into the best kind of oblivion.

           “Cum for me, pretty boy,” I say in the softest voice imaginable. “Show me how good you are.”

           The tension that had been steadily building since the first press of my lips against his snaps in an instant, and copious amounts of cum spurt out from his cock, painting his chest in thick, white ropes. Spencer chants out muddled thank yous as I fuck him through his release, pushing in and out of him in shallow strokes as slowly comes back down from the high.

           When his breathing slows down to a normal rate, I pull out of him, quickly freeing myself from the harness and tossing it aside to be dealt with later. I crawl up until I’m at eye level and begin pressing soft, sweet kisses to Spencer’s face.

           “You did so well, Spence,” I murmur against his skin. “You’re amazing, baby. Thank you so much for trusting me to be with you like that.”

           Spencer lifts a shaky hand to my hair and pulls me down into a heated kiss. I indulge him and pour every ounce of passion I have into my efforts, hoping to express my gratitude with every swipe of my lips against his. And when I pull away, my pretty boy smiles up at me, sated and full of adoration, and it’s beautiful.

           “D’you think you can handle taking a shower with me?” I ask as I pull away, and Spencer gives a shy nod in response. He sits up in the bed and swings his legs until his feet hit the floor. I’m just about to stand when his hand comes down on my wrist to stop me.

           “What about you? You didn’t . . .”

           “Don’t worry about me, sweetheart. Tonight was all about you.”

           I move off of the bed and help him to his feet, holding him steady when his legs begin to shake. “Might be a little sore for a while, but it should go away within a day or so.”

           I help him to the bathroom and turn on the shower, and when it’s warm enough I rid myself of my bra and panties and motion for him to join me. I urge Spencer to step under the spray first, but his arms snake around me and pull me with him.

           Spencer nuzzles his nose into the crook of my neck and he lets out a deep sigh.

           “You okay, bubs?” I ask him as I tangle my arms around his torso and begin to rub soothing circles into his back.

           “I just feel a little… down? I-Is this a sub drop? I read a little bit about them, but I don’t k-know…” he trails off, sniffling pitifully against my neck. “I-I just know that I want to hold you. Is that o-okay?”

           My heart lurches painfully in my chest as his voice wavers, and I pull back just enough that I can look into his weary eyes.

           “Baby, that’s more than okay. Sub drops are a perfectly normal thing to experience, and I’ll be right here to hold you for as long as you need. I’m not going anywhere.”

           Spencer’s eyes fill with tears and he makes no attempt to hold them back, choosing to let them fall freely and mix in with the water pouring from the shower head.

           “T-Tell me you want me,” Spencer begs, lip wobbling pitifully. “I-I just feel like I’m not good enough for you, and I know it’s all in my head, and I know how you feel about me, but I just think it would help if you just… s-said it. Please?”

           I feel my heart break for the man that stood before me. The implication his words carry - that this wonderful, kind-hearted, extraordinarily gifted man could ever think so little of himself – was enough to bring tears to my own eyes. I swallow down the lump that forms in my throat and, with all the sincerity I can possibly muster, I reply.

           “I want you, Spencer Reid. I don’t want anyone else – only you,” I tell him, never once breaking eye contact. “For as long as you’ll have me, I’m yours.”

           Spencer chokes out a weak laugh, “And if I want you forever?”

           I nudge his nose with my own, and the act feels almost more intimate than everything that preceded it.

           “Then forever, it is,” I murmur. I press a chaste kiss to his lips before pulling away and reaching for the shampoo. “Now, turn around, pretty boy. Let me pamper you.”

--

           “Y/N!” Penelope calls out, sauntering over to me in a flash of hot pink taffeta. I’m in the middle of throwing my satchel over my shoulder when she runs up to me, excited smile on her face. “Me, you, JJ, Elle, and a bottle of tequila. You in?”

           On a normal day, the answer would have been a resounding hell yes. But today? I let my eyes wander over to where Spencer lingers near the glass doors, trying to look like he isn’t listening in. Very subtle.

           “I’m gonna have to pass on this one, Penelope.”

           Penelope’s smile transforms into a pout.

           “This is the third weekend in a row you’ve ditched us!” she whines, stomping her kitten heeled foot like a petulant child. “Either you’re avoiding us or you’ve got some secret lover we don’t know about. And if that’s the case, then we have a whole other problem, because that’s the kind of thing I expect to be told about immediately.”

           The giddy smile that stretches across my face gives me away before I even have the chance to open my mouth, sending Penelope into an absolute frenzy.

           “Oh my God, I cannot believe this. We’ll talk about how angry I am about being kept in the dark later because right now, I need details,” Penelope gushes. “Who is he? Where did you two meet? Is he hot?” Penelope barely gets the words out before she’s shaking her head. “Wait, that’s a dumb question. Of course, he’s hot - just look at you. Do I know him? When do I get to meet him?”

           I can’t help but laugh at Penelope’s enthusiasm.

           “Slow down, Pen,” I chuckle. “I didn’t tell you about it because it’s still relatively new, and it wasn’t until this past weekend that we finally decided to put a label on it.”

           “A label? Does that mean this guy is your boyfriend? Oh my God, I thought this day would never come,” Penelope sighs dreamily. But the far-away look in her eye quickly fades and Penelope begins to grill me with renewed fervor. “Y/N, you have to tell me who it is. It’s like, practically a crime that I’m only just now hearing about this, so you owe me this much. And I’ll be needing his first and last name, along with a DOB so that I can run a full back ground check ASAP. Don’t even try to talk me out of it – we deal with enough freakiness during our day jobs, and I insist on making sure the freakiness ends there.”

           I can feel a flush spread over my cheeks and I fiddle with the strap of my bag.

           “I, uh, don’t think a background check is going to be necessary. You know this guy pretty well already.”

           If Penelope had been worked up before, she was practically vibrating with excitement now.

           “I know him? Oh my God, this is so huge. Is it Brendon from down in sex crimes? Or maybe James from counter-terrorism?” Penelope muses aloud, before her eyes go almost comically wide. “Holy hell, it’s Anderson, isn’t it?”

           “It definitely isn’t Anderson, or any of the others, for that matter,” I laugh. “Do you want a hint?”

           “What I really want is for you to just tell me, but if you insist on dragging this out then yes, I would very much like a hint!”

           I cut my eyes over to where Spencer stands, and it’s impossible to miss the giddy grin on his face. So much for trying to remain subtle, Doctor Reid.

           I fake like I’m looking around for anyone within earshot before motioning for Penelope to lean in. She’s quick to comply, and I do one last exaggerated sweep of the room.

           “Alright then, here’s your hint,” I whisper into her ear. “He’s got an IQ of 187, and he’s a pretty kickass magician.”

           I lean back and adjust the strap of my bag, sparing one last, parting glance at Penelope, whose jaw is practically on the floor.

           “See you on Monday, Pen.”

           “W-Wait, are you serious?” Penelope calls out after me. “Reid is your mystery man?! Y/N, get back here right now and explain yourself! Derek, did you hear that?!”

           By the time I reach Spencer, Penelope’s voice fades into background noise as I focus all my attention on the way he smiles down at me. I link my hand with his and I’m vaguely aware of an increase in volume coming from Penelope’s direction, but I ignore in favor of smiling back at him.

           “You ready to get out of here, boyfriend?”

           Spencer squeezes my hand in his and he nods.

           “Ready when you are, girlfriend.”

-

-

-

taglist: @90spumkin​​ @moon-light-jukebox​​ @jessalyn-jpeg​ @pinkdiamond1016​​ @itsametaphorbriansblog​​ @eldahae​​ @itsmytimetoodream​ @kasaikawa​ @shadyladyperfection​

[bffsoobin]

amortentia

↳year six potions class was never particularly exciting to you- as a Slytherin with much more interest in Transfiguration- but alas, it’s required to graduate. You thought the class couldn’t be any more of an inconvenience, but upon being paired with infamous Gryffindor Beomgyu, you find yourself proven wrong.

➤ gryffindor!beomgyu xslytherin!reader, harry potter!au, enemies to lovers, a little slow burn, fluff

Word Count: ~11k

Requested?: kinda? anon requested a Beomgyu oneshot with no specifics and I spit this out of some depraved, Harry Potter obsessed corner of my mind.

Warnings: mentions of drinking, usual e2l arguments, swearing, usual Gryffindor-Slytherin insults and tension 

A/N: I hope the anon who asked for a Beomgyu oneshot is happy with this!! I finally felt like I had enough time to write a proper hogwarts au so here it is! Also I purposely avoided using any professor names that are clearly linked with the actual Harry Potter series purely because of timeline continuity! Bonus points if you can guess who Georgiana is related to before I point it out :) ALSO this is so long and I feel so rusty so I hope it’s okay lmao

•:•.•:•.•:•:•:•:•:•:•:•☾☼☽•:•.•:•.•:•:•:•:•:•:•:••:•.•

The sound of your quill scratching against parchment filled your quiet corner of the common room, allowing you a feeling of solidarity and peace you’d been craving since you arrived back to the castle a few days ago. Of course you’d been excited to be back, sharing the meal in the Great Hall with all of your friends happily as you watched the wide-eyed first years get sorted into their houses. It was hard to believe that 6 years ago that had been you waiting to find your place within the walls of Hogwarts. 

As always, the buzz of the beginning of a new year wore on your nerves. Despite your love for your friends, their energy was- in your opinion- completely draining. You much preferred the moments of quiet serenity that the stone laden dungeon common room afforded you. The last few embers of a fire lit hours before winked at you from across the room, tempting you to raise your wand and reignite them. After a moment you decided against the movement, as you were presumably the only one awake at this hour and the light of the cedar scented candle you’d brought down with you from your suitcase provided enough light for you anyway. 

The scratch of your quill stilled as you flipped to the next page, careful not to accidentally bend the corners of the book you’d just purchased. Several detailed diagrams detailed the process of transfiguring plants to inanimate objects to animals then back to plants and you felt your heart swell with excitement. Transfiguration was hands down your favorite subject, and you’d been craving to learn this process in particular since it had been mentioned offhandedly in class last year. You scrambled to pick up your quill, happy that you’d splurged for the instantly refilling model as ink flowed flawlessly against the parchment. 

A sudden crash from the entrance of the common room popped your comfortable bubble of silence harshly as you clambered for your wand. 

“Who’s there?” You yelled, annoyance and surprise mixing to raise your voice considerably. For a moment you heard nothing as you advanced closer to the door, keeping the three wide stone steps between you and who- or what- ever was behind the door. The door shook a few times before finally flying open, revealing three very normal looking boys stumbling through the threshold. They were all hanging on one another, stumbling over their feet as they pushed into the common room. You recognized the one in the middle instantly as Choi Yeonjun, fellow Slytherin and current Head Boy of the house. He was a year older than you but you knew him well for his infectious laughter and notoriously good grades despite never studying. His cheeks were flushed and his feet unsteady, but he held a charming grin through it all. The identity of whoever was supporting him on the left was a mystery to you, but the boy supporting him from the right sent alarm bells off in your head. 

“Beomgyu?” Your voice left you before you could rein yourself in, and you would have cringed had it not been for the hatred brewing under your skin. Here he was, the one person you tried to forget existed every single summer. And he had been part of the ruckus that pulled you from your reading. He didn’t say anything as the three boys stumbled past you, dumping Yeonjun onto one of the soft black leather sofas. 

“Hello?” You felt like you were in some kind of time warp, somehow totally invisible to the three of them as they sorted themselves out; Beomgyu and the other boy straightening out their clothing and Yeonjun lolling his head back on the cushions with a content sigh. 

“Oh, hey Y/N.” Beomgyu finally drawled, sticking his hands in the front pockets of his trousers. He was still wearing his robes, layered over a sensible gray wool sweater and black uniform slacks. His striped red and gold tie hung off of his neck slightly, obviously having been loosened at some point in the night. He donned the same Head Boy pin Yeonjun did, but in the same colorway as his robes and tie. Loud, obnoxious, attention seeking red and gold.

“Hey? How about instead of “hey” you tell me why the hell you’re barging into my common room at some ungodly hour of the night! Don’t you have somewhere else to be, Head Boy?” The unidentified boy behind him froze as his eyes widened, apparently feeling the sting of your icy words much more than Beomgyu. He just lifted a lazy eyebrow, guiding his annoyingly confident gaze over your body. Fucking Gryffindors and their confidence. It was suffocating. 

“Well you see, Y/N. Yeonjun here can’t handle his fire whiskey for shit, and we were all just having a little start of the year party in the Room of Requirement. So me and my friend here,” he motioned vaguely to the cowering boy behind him- who you now noticed looked like he had just entered his fourth year- “decided to be so kind as to bring him back.” 

You said nothing for a moment; simply simmering in your hatred for him until he spoke again. 

“By the way, what are you even doing up so late? You’re not a prefect...so shouldn’t you be up in bed like the rest of your little friends? What’s so secretive that you have to be up in the middle of the night for it? Are you doing something...evil?” He leaned forward, closing the gap between the two of you and bringing his mouth level with your ear. You cringed at the closeness, clenching your hands into fists until the crescents of your nails indented your skin. His voice had lowered like he was telling a secret, as if Gryffindors even had the capacity for maintaining privacy. “Are you being naughty?” 

You huffed indignantly, finally finding the strength to shove his shoulder away harshly. The skin of your cheeks was certainly flamed, but you hoped he would chalk it up to annoyance and not the intoxicating scent of his woody cologne.  

“If you must know, I was up studying Transfiguration. I was trying to enjoy some piece and quiet until you came busting in.”

Beomgyu stepped around you and made his way for the table you’d previously been sitting at. To your delight he refrained from touching anything, but he stared at the set up for so excruciatingly long that the mystery boy awkwardly slipped out of the dungeon without a word. 

“We start classes in about 5 hours,” he suddenly remarked. His voice made you jump a bit, since you’d become used to the regained quiet. “Why the hell are you already studying? And a subject we’ve all already taken? Any other Transfiguration courses would just be electives, and with how much you care for your class standing I would have assumed you’d be learning ahead on Potions.”

“Well first of all, I’m not exactly studying. I’m just reading. I bought the book myself because I-” you stopped and heaved a sigh at the scrunch of his eyebrows. He clearly wasn’t understanding the concept of reading just for the fun of it. “I’m not studying for Potions because I despite it. Plus, how much is there to study? The book literally spells out every ingredient and procedure. There’s no thinking to be done, and hardly any magic.” Beomgyu’s eyebrows shot up into his hairline comically. 

“Hardly any magic? My god, maybe I was right to peg you as the pessimistic type. Must be hard to feel anything akin to hope down here in your-” he glanced around your common room again, eyes catching on the darkened green and black decorations, the window offering a view of the sparkling Black Lake shrouded with pine trees. “In your dungeon.” 

His use of the word bothered you greatly. Even though you knew it was geographically true and had even used it yourself; something about him coming in unannounced and uninvited to insult your home inspired fresh anger in your stomach. 

“Get out,” you spat, ignoring the way a half-dozed Yeonjun jumped at your voice. With all your might you pushed at Beomgyu’s broad shoulders, willing him out of your sight for at least a few more hours. 

“Oof, must have hit a nerve there, huh?” He continued to speak casually as you pushed him, walking backwards up the steps with an annoyingly perfect accuracy. Once he was finally stood in the threshold of the heavy door you heaved a sigh of relief as you swing it closed.

“Bye bye! Don’t ever fucking come back!”

——

You only managed about two hours of sleep after the Beomgyu drama, but luckily for you the three other sixth year girls you were rooming with had been smart enough to buy and stash away some caffeine potions. They had none of the enjoyable taste of coffee but three times the effect, and soon you felt back in top shape to head to class.

Pushing through the masses of clambering students with a practice eased, you caught up to the familiar frame of Georgiana, one of your oldest friends. She was a Ravenclaw, but you’d ridden together on your very first trip on the Hogwarts Express and stayed close friends since then. She greeted you easily, giving you an award winning smile as she pulled you by the arm of the robes to sit on one of the surprisingly empty stone benches lining the halls.

“Let me see your schedule!” She had to yell just to be heard over the mumbling of the crowd, but you heard her well enough to produce a folded piece of parchment that you carried despite having memorized it. Georgiana’s eyes flitted over it carefully, comparing it to her own schedule which laid open on her lap.

“We’ve got...Herbology 3,” she ran her finger down the parchments a few more inches, “Transfiguration of Aquatics...and NEWT prep together!” You groaned loudly, a feeling of anxiety weighing down your bones as you rubbed your fingertips into your temples.

“What’s up with you? Over me already?” She giggled, leaning back against the wall and handing you back your schedule.

“No, it’s just...if you’re the second class for Herb 3, Aquatics and NEWT prep, that means I have to pray that the second house in Potions isn’t Gryffindor.” You leaned back against the cool wall next to her, pouting in self pity until you saw the grim look on her face.

“What?” You sat up straight again as if a fire had been lit under your ass. Georgiana looked as if she was holding in a laugh and a grimace at the same time while you begged her to give up whatever information she was holding back from you. Her hand hovered over her mouth in an attempt to hide the wavering smirk running across her lips. 

“Okay, don’t freak out.” She began, placing a hand on your knee. 

“Well now I’m definitely going to since you lead with don’t freak out! Should I freak out? What about?”

“I already compared schedules with Soobin,” she said gently.

“Okay, and?” You knew of the sweet Hufflepuff, had sat next to him in a few classes and seen him hanging out with Yeonjun on occasion, but still had no idea why she was bringing him up now.

“And him and I have Potions together.” In the split second it took for the words to process you saw her flinch, clutching at the fabric of her robes over her chest in anticipation for your angry outburst.

“Of course! Of course I have to get stuck with them for Potions class, out of all the other houses. Merlin really has it out for lately you know, I didn’t sleep very much last night, had to pay Melinda 10 galleons for one of her caffeine potions-“

“I can tell,” Georgiana supplied. You grimaced at her and immediately shut your mouth, sensing your rapid talking was quickly becoming over the top.

“Georgie, if I have Potions with him-“ you didn’t even have to specify who you were speaking of before she was rolling her green eyes into her head.

“If you have Potions with Beomgyu, you just need to ignore him. He loves to push your buttons, Y/N. When will you realize that? And you push his back and you both get a good cat-and-mouse feeling that every teenager wants. Maybe if you stop entertaining it, he’ll take it easy on you. Need I remind you of the time you were actually friends with him? Didn’t swear he was the spawn of Satan after every conversation? I even remember in second year when you had a crush on him and made me-“

“Okay!” You replied curtly, gathering your books and parchment back into your arms. “I’m going now! Class starts in,” you pulled back your robe sleeve to look at a watch that clearly was not there, “10 minutes, and I like to be early!” Easily, you slipped into the throngs of students, leaving Georgiana behind with a sly grin on her face.

——

You arrived to the Potions room before any other student, forcing you to idle awkwardly in the small space between the door and the first brewing station. A few of the cauldrons bubbled idly, breaking up the silence of the room with the low hum of white noise. The arched ceilings only amplified the absence of noise- even the never ending buzz of students passing through the hallways was somehow muffled to silence inside the walls. 

“Ah!” The professor bellowed, waving at you from the opposite end of the room where he had been straightening out some piles of parchment that you could only assume were homework papers. “Hello there, you must be quite eager to start the day!” You could feel the skin of the back of your neck heating up as the rotund man approached you gleefully. 

“Oh, um, yes sir. You could say that...” you mumbled, clutching your stack of books to your chest protectively. The man smiled at you kindly but you could still feel the heavy weight of awkwardness seeping into your bones. He opened his mouth again- making another attempt at small talk to which you cringed. As much as you respected the professor on the basis of his knowledge, your ability for any small talk, especially Potions related, was extremely lacking. 

“You must’ve done quite well on your OWLS to be here, yes? Only those with the highest scores can be registered. The class can be quite challenging, but if you’ve got your affairs in order I reckon you’ll fine.” He paused, likely sensing the blankness behind your stare as you nodded politely. “Ah, all things you already know I’m sure. Are you excited to get started with the class?” 

You frowned, holding back your natural instinct for brutal honesty. How on earth could you let this gentle old man down gently? 

“Of course she’s excited! Aren’t we all?” Beomgyu was in the room now, apparently, approaching you from behind and slinging an arm around your shoulders. The loose fabric of his sleeve collided with the side of your face, blinding you for a second. You stumbled on your feet from the jostle, trying to shrug away from the warmth and overwhelming scent of his cologne. Beomgyu never was aware of his own strength as he held you steadily against his side as if he was trying to fuse your bodies together.

“Oh my! So nice to see such great friends between different houses! Back in my day, as I’m sure you know, there was so much hatred between Gryffindors and Slytherins...never would have seen a pair of friends like the two of you!” The professor seemed genuinely delighted, oblivious to the way you tried to wiggle out of Beomgyu’s hold. You offered the professor a plastic smile as more students filed in. As soon as the portly man was otherwise occupied, you stomped the heel of your sneaker into Beomgyu’s foot with all the might you could gather. 

“Merlin, ouch!” He recoiled immediately, withdrawing his arm from around your frame to clutch at the foot you’d hopefully bruised. “I’ve got Quidditch practice after lunch today! How dare you!” 

“Guess it’s a good thing you don’t need your feet for Quidditch, Choi. Serves you right for violating my personal space. Next time it’ll be worse than your fucking toes.” You hissed the words lowly, just enough that he would be able to hear them but without alerting your nearby classmates. 

“You two, there!” The professor suddenly exclaimed, making you jump out of your stupor to see he was pointed an aged finger at you and Beomgyu. “Since you were first in and seem to get along, I’ll have you be partners on Station 1.” A few confused whispers passed through the classmates behind you and your face fell at the implication. Potions partners with Beomgyu? For the whole year?

He seemed similarly stalled, not moving a single inch away from the front of the room until the professor cleared his throat pointedly. 

“Right, sir, of course,” Beomgyu nodded, rushing over to the furthest of the high-top tables; unsuccessfully trying to hide the pain of his newfound limp. With a satisfied feeling in your chest you followed closely behind, finally unloading the weight of the books in your arms onto the table. 

——

“How much worse could it get?” You groaned, laying your head in your arms at the dining table. 

“Well, you could be sick, or failing a class, or not have any friends, or have lost your books. Hell, let’s not forget what it must have been like to go to school here at the same time as Harry Potter. I mean, no final exams for a few years, but at what cost? Grandpa Ron always tells me about-” 

“Oh, good Merlin, Georgie, that’s not what I meant.” You picked your head up from the table and scanned the bustling hall. A large plate of sandwiches laid in front of you but your appetite was diminished in the presence of your stress. “I mean, how fucked is it that I have to spend every first period for the rest of the year brewing Potions alongside Choi? It’s bad enough that I hate Potions already, and now I’ll have to deal with his stupid, righteous, Slytherin-slandering ass!” You slammed your hand into the wooden table, shaking the plates and glasses near you under the force. 

“Careful there,” Georgiana scolded around a mouthful of bread. “Just keep your head down, don’t react to him like you always do,” she paused to gulp down a sip of pumpkin juice, “he’ll give up eventually.” You heaved a heavy sigh, propping your chin onto the palm of your hand and scanning the Great Hall. Masses of students bustled around, sharing meals and laughing or gathering over homework problems. You weren’t quite sure who or what you were looking for, but all you found was a rowdy group of forth year boys sitting atop one of the tables, casting small hexes at one another and their lunches. You rolled your eyes at their antics before resigning to picking at the few fries on your plate. 

“And if he doesn’t?” You mumbled, casting a pointed glare at a seemingly distracted Georgiana. It took her a second to shift her gaze back to your face, clearing her throat as she narrowed her eyes towards you. 

“Sorry?” She asked, pulling a section of crust off of the third sandwich she’d picked up off of the platter. 

“If he doesn’t give up? What am I supposed to do then?” The thought of living out the next two school years with Choi Beomgyu as a constant annoyance settled a pit of rage in your stomach. Georgiana was quiet for a moment, flicking a few locks of curled, fiery hair over her shoulder. 

“Then you get back at him.” She shrugged. “You know you get a discount at the joke shop. Just go down there and pick up some puking pastilles or something.” She looked up again suddenly, eyes shimmering and focused intently on something behind you. Out of curiosity you turned on the spot, wondering if there was something of interest outside of the window, only to be met with the sight of Soobin standing mere feet away, hand stalled mid-wave. It didn’t take a genius to notice that the Hufflepuff was staring intently at your best friend, and she was happily returning the sentiment with a goofy grin on her face. You whipped back around to face her, leaning across the table as if the action would provide any secrecy with him so close. 

“Are you and Soobin...” you wiggled your eyebrows at her and she swatted at your shoulder. Her cheeks blushed rosy as she whispered back, “He asked me if I’d want to hang out when we go to Hogsmeade this weekend.” Her voice shook as she spoke but you frowned instantly. Of course you were happy that he had finally manned up and the two of them were on the way to something akin to a date, but...

“First weekend Hogsmeade is our tradition!” You shouted, abandoning any secrecy you might have thought you’d maintained from Soobin. 

“Y/N, please!” Georgiana hissed, glancing up at Soobin with an apologetic smile. “Just once. You can still come along, maybe you can bring someone too?” She offered, trying to placate your irritation. Her eyes continued sliding between you and Soobin as she waited for your response. You sank back onto the bench quietly, arms crossed over your chest. 

“Fine.” You sighed. “I guess I can try to think of someone.” Georgiana’s face lit up as she stood from her seat and gathered her books back under her arm. She rounded the end of the table quickly, meeting up with Soobin just behind you. “Don’t think I’m not still irritated, Weasley!” You yelled after her even though she had turned her back to you. She stalled in her lockstep next to Soobin just long enough to turn her head and throw you a middle finger. 

——

The day of your Hogsmeade visit came quicker than you anticipated, and of course you’d failed to find someone to fill the empty spot that would prevent you from third wheeling. Everyone you asked had either been otherwise busy, sick, or already going into Hogsmeade with other friends.

Georgiana, being the wonderful friend she was, made sure that you hadn’t felt left out on the walk into the village. Soobin was surprisingly good at keeping conversation despite his shy appearance, and the three of you had managed to share lunch and a few Butterbeers at The Three Broomsticks before Georgiana began giving you pointed glances. It took you an embarrassingly long time to recognize what her hand signals and mouthed words were conveying, but once you did you had excused yourself to wander the shops alone in a bid to give the lovebirds some privacy.

The weather was surprisingly pleasant, and as such the streets were lined with witches and wizards of all ages. Large throngs of students and families passed you by, and you couldn’t help but feel a bit like a fish swimming upstream as everyone pushed by. When you’d first stepped out you felt odd walking the cobbled street alone, considering you’d never made a solo trip to Hogsmeade for as long as you’d lived. Something about it was quite relaxing, though, as you realized you could enter any store and stay for any amount of time. 

Once you’d wrestled your way through another group of oncoming students, you spotted an endearing baby blue storefront with deserts on display in the window. Many of them appeared to be muggle creations, and your mouth watered as you caught sight of a tray of fudgy brownies with a thick layer of chocolate icing. Your eyes had always been bigger than your stomach; so despite the fact that you’d just had lunch you find yourself stepping into the sweet smelling shop. An expansion charm helped stretch the store far beyond its dainty storefront, and you were met with the sight of even more display cases and tiered plates full of sweets. 

A few other wizards mulled around the store, debating which treats to pick up and pack into the little green pastry boxes which were stacked at the entrance in a never ending supply. You balanced one of your own between your hands as you gathered up treats, sure to grab three of the very brownies that had brought you in to begin with. You packed in a few cookies that you found on a shelf near the back of the store and began to weigh your options between purchasing what appeared to be a type of muggle cake with specs of color floating about the white batter or a more familiar looking pumpkin pastry dusted with powdered sugar. You contemplated the two deserts for an amount of time that would have been embarrassing if you were in the presence of company.

“Wrackspurts on the brain?” A rush of hot breath inches away from the shell of your ear had you reeling, clutching your box of precious deserts to your chest. Of course you’d immediately identified the voice; you were just hoping that you were wrong as you shot daggers into the boy who’d spooked you. Beomgyu looked beyond pleased with himself: a hand cocked on his hip, fake glasses perched at the very end of his nose to perfectly top off the outfit he’d chosen. His robes hung open, one shoulder almost devoid of the fabric as it drooped onto his back. The maroon turtleneck he wore struck a perfect contrast with the golden undertones of his skin and matched impressively well to the emblem on his robes. He had tucked the turtleneck into the waistband of a pair of light wash jeans that made it hard not to marvel at the shape of his waist. The scent of his cologne was faint, overpowered by the sweetness of the shop, but you were picking up overwhelming scents of-

“Hello? Earth to Y/N?” He scrunched his nose as he studied you, waving gingerly like you would have at a child.

“Oh! Uh, I’m here, I’m here. What the hell do you want anyway?” You turned your attention back to the two pastries you’d been considering before his sneak attack in an attempt to keep yourself from looking back at his form.

“What’re you doing here alone? Out of friends? Did ya bore them all to death?” He had rounded to the opposite side of the table, forcing you to look at him straight on.

“I walked into Hogsmeade with Georgiana and Soobin, if you must know. They wanted some time alone so here I am.” You glanced up again to see him leaning casually against the table with one arm bracing his weight.

“I just have to point out that you’re also alone, Beomgyu. So I’m not quite sure why so keen on bashing me.” Your eyes skate over the deserts one final time before you decisively package up a slice of the muggle cake. The urge to celebrate the small victory was squashed by Beomgyu’s scoff.

“I’m here alone because I chose to be, not because my best friend is on a date and didn’t want a chaperone. Don’t you find that a little embarrassing?”

To be honest, you hadn’t considered it that way. You knew that finding a person to keep you from third wheeling had been your responsibility. But maybe he had a point. Although he was a constant nagging force, Beomgyu was insightful and intelligent. He’d helped you in class many times back when you were friends. Nervously, you nibbled at your bottom lip and considered his words carefully. Did Georgiana find your presence today embarrassing? She was surely too nice to tell you so, and there was no denying the tension in her face while she waited for you to leave The Three Broomsticks earlier. Your normally stoic face must have betrayed you, conveying that you were starting to feel hurt at the words that suddenly seemed to make so much sense. 

“I was joking,” Beomgyu spoke up suddenly, rounding the table to once again be next to you. “Don’t take everything I say so seriously, Y/N. I’m beginning to worry for your sense of humor.” He picked up a couple of cookies with careful dexterity and settled them into the palm of his hand. 

“Of course,” you concluded bitterly, taking a step back in a bid to get to the counter and buy your treats. “Must be my broken sense of humor and not just the fact that you’re an ass.” His face twisted unpleasantly as you stepped further away. He opened his mouth as if to say something, but you were already pivoting on the balls of your feet to make your way toward the front of the shop. 

——

The evidence of the first frost of the season crunched underneath your feet as you hurried to class. As someone who prided themselves on showing up on time for classes every day, you were particularly embarrassed to have woken up with just twenty minutes to spare before the beginning of potions. There was no excuse, either. You had simply stayed up too late studying for the NEWT practice exam and forgot to set your alarm before lying down.

To make matters worse you’d greatly underdressed yourself, underestimating the absolute chill of the morning when you had peeled out from the window. Only now, as you found yourself feet away from the classroom did you feel the icy temperature begin to bite into your exposed skin. Your cheeks were numb with cold, and your hands shook as you pushed them under your arms for some amount of warmth. Luckily the classroom was warmer when you finally got to it. Guiltily, you grinned at your professor as he notably marked your attendance onto the scroll of parchment. 

“Rough night?” Beomgyu asked under his breath as the professor launched into the lesson for the day. You kept your back turned to the boy in favor of writing down the list of ingredients that was being provided to you. A firm poke in the middle of your back had you turning on your stool, already silently fuming as you came face to face with Beomgyu. 

“What?” You mouthed, trying your best not to alert your professor that neither of you were paying attention to him. 

“You look awful,” he mouthed back, pulling the most exaggerated gagging expression you’d ever seen in your life. Your fingers twitched, resisting the urge to grab him by his necktie and slap him across his annoyingly perfect face. Instead you threw up your middle finger boldly, practicing a muggle tradition that wizards had become quite fond of. Beomgyu feigned shock, laying a hand over his heart and pretending to faint right there at his stool. 

“-so you’ll be using this combination of potions for the group project, due in one weeks time.” Your professor concluded. Wide eyed, you spun back around on your stool only to see the words previously written on the board disappear with a flick of his wand. A group project? Potions, plural? You’d only taken notes on one mixture, and you were sure that Beomgyu hadn’t taken any notes at all. Although maybe the group project wasn’t among your table mate? Your heart fluttered as you prayed for that to be the reality, scanning your classmates to see if anyone got up to switch seats or combine tables. 

Not a single soul moved. 

“Guess it’s just us.” Beomgyu drawled from behind you. 

“Did you take any notes?” You asked, fear running through your veins. If both of you were clueless, you’d have to ask the professor to explain everything to you again, which would only implicate the two of you for not paying attention to begin with. 

Beomgyu shook his head and shrugged much too casually for a student who was in the dark about an entire project. 

“I’ll just ask someone. Hey, Art-” 

“No!” You scrambled for a rolled piece of parchment to hit him on the arm with before he could finish his shout across the classroom. “Please, do not scream across the room that we don’t know what we’re doing.” Your cheeks were flaming, anxiety and exhaustion building to a dangerous level in your bloodstream.

“Awe, are you ashamed to admit you were too busy talking to me to pay attention?” Beomgyu cooed, cradling his chin in his palms.

“No. I’m embarrassed that we’re the only ones not starting the work,” you glanced pointedly to all of the other tables where your classmates were hard at work on...something. Every table housed a slowly bubbling cauldron producing a steady stream of light grey smoke. The cauldron resting on the table between the two of you was alarmingly quiet, your stores of provided potion ingredients remaining untouched. 

“Alright, Y/N. How about right now we work on the one you wrote down,” he points a finger at the parchment containing the list of notes you managed to take, “and I’ll talk to someone about the rest. Since you’re too proud to ask for help.” Without waiting for you to process the words he gripped the parchment between his fingers and pulled it toward the middle of the table. He mumbled a simple aguamenti under his breath and the cauldron filled with the perfect level of water. He then scrutinized the words for just a moment before he began to collect ingredients with a practiced ease, barely even glancing at the labels of the hefty glass containers. You’d never seen him quite as focused in a class as he was at the moment, his nimble fingers uncapping lids and measuring precise amounts of lacewing flies with a delicacy you never would have expected to come from the hands of Gryffindor’s star Beater. 

One after the other, ingredients fell into the wrought iron cauldron, changing the color of the mixture from clear to an odd, murky green. You scrunched your nose in distaste but Beomgyu was nodding to himself in satisfaction, his fluffy hair bouncing back off of his forehead. 

“Stop staring and start taking notes, Y/N.” His voice was casual but his lips were twisted in a smirk as you scrambled for both an excuse and a fresh roll of parchment. 

“I wasn’t,” you defended as you begin to scribble out notes against the parchment, refusing to meet his eyes as the shame of being caught red-handed crawled up the back of your throat and stung behind your eyes. He simply hummed in acknowledgment and tossed in a few leaves of a plant you didn’t have time to identify into the bubbling mixture.

——

Impatiently, you tapped your foot against the stone floor. It echoed a sound that would have been satisfying in its consistency if it weren’t for the annoyance running through your veins. Beomgyu had promised to meet you in the west corner of the library today, at a prompt 7pm, in order to finish synthesizing your plan for the Potions project. You checked the clock on the wall again just in case you had somehow misread the hands only to find them confirming your suspicions. Beomgyu was blowing you off. He had suggested the time and place himself, and yet he couldn’t even have the decency to show up. 

Anger blossomed in your chest as you stood to gather the things you’d brought along. Your chair scraped on the floor and attracted the stares of a few other students put you paid them no mind as you swore under your breath. 

Of course Beomgyu had stood you up in the face of an important project. He was probably laughing away to his friends in the common room, boasting about how he’d left you sitting in the library like a fool. Once again he had proven himself to be an utterly useless and annoying human being that you wished you had never even met. Your teeth sunk into the supple flesh of your bottom lip so hard that blood pooled on your tongue, the bitter tang snapping you into action. The route to the Gryffindor common room was a familiar one, and the hatred brimming inside of you made your legs move even faster than usual, swearing under your breath as you finally came face to face with the portrait keeping you from entering the room. 

“I don’t have time for any password- please just let me in. I’m looking for someone.” Your words came rushed, obviously annoyed as you crossed your arms over your chest. 

“Now, you know that isn’t how this works, dear,” the painting asserted, crossing their arms to mimic your own stubborn pose. “I can’t let just anyone into the room. I’ve got,” the portraited stopped dead in its tracks and began counting on its fingers silently. “I’ve got 30 students inside right now, and it’s my job to protect them.” Your fists clenched at your sides over the stubborn portrait, fingers itching to grab your wand and level a badgering curse against the damned painting. It must have read the anger on your face as you fiddled with the fabric of your robes, as it’s booming voice came again; 

“Tell me who you’re seeking, and I can tell you if I’ve seen them!” With your fingers still curled around your wand, it took a fair deal of restraint to leave it in your robe pocket. After a deep, steadying breath, you looked back up at the portrait. A beat of silence passed before you slathered on a sweet smile, clearing your throat to quell any remnants of your frustrated growl. 

“I’m looking for Choi Beomgyu.” 

The portrait took a moment to contemplate your words, squeezing its eyes tightly and tapping its fingers as you assumed it searched the students inside the Gryffindor common room and dorms. 

“He’s not here.” It finally concluded, snapping its eyes back open to peer down at you again. Frustration flamed your skin red all the way to your hairline. Hogwarts and it’s grounds were extensive, and searching for him would surely take up your entire night. 

“I did happen to see out Quidditch players heading down to the pitch around 5 o’clock, though.” Not needing any further ceremony, you turned on your heels and made your way toward the exit of the castle. The corridors were fairly empty, and the few students still milling around were quick to step out of your way as you hurried through them, robes flowing out behind you. Silently you thanked your lucky stars that no professors had been around to inquire about why you were rushing out of the castle in such a haste. 

As soon as you set foot outside, you regretted not stopping by your dorm first to grab your coat and scarf. It had been three days since you woke up to the first frost, and the temperature had only continued to drop into frigid numbers. Even in the limited light provided by the setting sun you could see your breath fogging ahead of you. Cold air curled around your body, seeming to seep underneath your skin with a harsh ferocity. For now you simply tucked your hands deeper into the fabric of your robes, hoping that the heat of them in conjunction with your brisk pace would keep your body warm enough.

The walk to the Quidditch pitch was deceptively far when you traveled alone. Normally you were so distracted by conversation with your friends and the last minute bets between houses that you didn’t have time to mull over how many steps it took you to arrive at the stands; but today you were nothing short of pissed at how far away the compound had been built. Every step you took sent a shock of cold through your feet, your toes completely numb no matter how much you wiggled them inside your sneakers. The trees shuddered with you as you passed them, leaves spiraling to the ground as they finally give in to the pressure of the cold and resign themselves.

Finally you passed through the solid wood of the viewing stands, coming face to face with the expanse of the pitch in front of you. Totally empty. Not a single soul was to be found warming up on the grass or running practice games in the air. Upon listening, you couldn’t even hear any distant chatter that would indicate the team being huddled into the locker room.

“Shit!” A new wave of frustration crashed through your mind. Had you passed them on the way over? It was plausible that they had taken a different route back to the castle and your whole trip had been in vain. Exhausted, you leaned against the wall and listened to the whip of the banners against their metal poles, the clinking of their bindings matching with the steady, loud beat of your pulse. Just as you were about to turn and head back for the castle in your freezing shame, you heard another sound. This one was different, less uniform, almost like a grunt of exhaustion followed by a heavy thud. Your freezing feet moved almost without you to follow the noise. A vicious wind whipped your hair, mussing it up so badly that you had to stop in your tracks to gather it all back into place. You hazarded every step you took, unsure exactly where the source of the noise was coming from other than somewhere behind the stands. On your next step you heard the noise again, much closer this time, and the excitement of being close to solving this mystery had your footsteps speeding up.

Just as you rounded the curving stands, you spotted the culprit, still a little hard to make out due to the distance you had yet to cover, but the colors and shape of a Gryffindor Quidditch uniform were clear. Upon further inspection, it became obvious that the heavy thud you’d been hearing was a the heavy iron Bludger cracking against the magically reinforced bat. There were only two Beaters on the team, and one of them was the very man who’d forced you to walk into the frigid night. You continued your steady approach to the figure, morbidly curious over who it was that was out here pushing themselves to practice alone in the freezing cold. 

“Hey!” You yelled as you edged closer, hoping to give whoever it may be a fair warning that you were approaching. Within three feet of the body, there was no mistaking it to be Beomgyu. 

“Choi!” You raged, yelling much louder than required for him to hear you. The Bludger was sailing far away from the two of you with a strong hit as you closed the distance almost all the way. “I know you can hear me, asshat.” Beomgyu kept his eyes on the iron ball, effectively ignoring your words. In disbelief you glanced back and forth between his face-seeing the way his eyes narrowed in concentration as the Bludger came closer by the second. 

“Is this where you’ve been all night? Playing Quidditch while you were supposed to meet me in the library?” A strong gust of wind knocked the air out of you, shivers running down your spine as you waited for any response from the boy. The Bludger came whistling back toward the two of you, and in the split second you had the foresight to step back he had tensed his shoulders, gripped the end of his bat and took another strong and precise hit against the Bludger, sending it even further away than the last one. 

“Lost track of time.” He supplied absentmindedly, turning his head to regard you with lazy eyes. 

“What?” You seethed, stepping forward again, placing yourself in front of his frame in hopes of appearing somewhat intimidating. “You lost track of time? Let’s talk about the fact that out project is due in four fucking days, and all we have to show is a single god damn Potion. This was your responsibility,” you pushed your pointed finger into the front of his uniform, the fabric giving way to allow you to feel the firmness of his chest underneath. “I trusted you with the single task of making sure that we could figure out the rest of this project, and you fucked up!” Tears of frustration rimmed your eyes as the worry of failure overwhelmed you. As much as you hated Potions, you’d be damned if Choi Beomgyu became the reason you do poorly. 

“Listen, I seriously did just forget,” he pushed at your shoulders forcefully, to which you planted your feet into the ground harder. “Seriously, Y/N, I forgot! Now move!” 

“No! You are not,” you grabbed at his forearm and pulled it off of your shoulder, “going to blow me off again! We are going to work on this project right now, even if its the last thing I do!” 

“It’s about to be if you don’t fucking move!” He yelled, finally managing to uproot your feet and push you off to the side with so much force that you landed flat on your ass, the cold hardness of the ground knocking the breath out of your lungs. From the ground, you watched helplessly while Beomgyu scrambled to grab his bat in time to hit the whirring Bludger. He was a quick enough thinker to see that there was no way he’d make the move in time, so he simply did the next best thing- turning his back to the ball and ducking his head into his chest, covering the back of his neck with his arms. 

With a sickening crack, the Bludger made foul contact with Beomgyu’s back, striking just below his left shoulder blade. The force knocked him forward, his hands barely catching himself as he met the ground harshly. He cried out in pain, the sound bouncing around the stands and piercing your veins. In a hurry, you crawled toward his heaving body and urged him to sit up with the guidance of your hands. 

“Are you okay?” The words rushed out of you in a hurry, panic crawling up the back of your throat at the shine of tears streaming down his reddened cheeks. 

“Wh-what the hell do you think?” He groaned, body shaking as he struggled to even take a breath. 

“Okay, right. Dumb question. Let’s get you to the infirmary, yeah?” His legs shook as he got them under him, something akin to a baby deer taking its first few steps. Instinctively you shot out an arm to steady him, looping your arm behind his back as effectively as you could given the height difference and placement of his injury. 

“Merlin, I think I broke my shoulder blade,” he groaned, stumbling across the uneven ground with trepidation. 

“You didn’t, I watched. It actually hit right below your shoulder blade, so if anything it’s just bruised, and you probably won’t even need a bone-healing spell, so recovery should be little more than some Devil’s Claw for the pain and-” 

“Did someone cast a babbling curse on you? Merlin’s beard. It’s bad enough that you got me hit to begin with, and now I have to listen to you run your mouth!’ His voice was still pinched with pain, an octave lower than normal as he gritted his teeth. The two of you finally reached the threshold of the castle, encapsulated by the warmth of the torches littered all inside. 

“I’m trying to help! Did you ever consider the fact that if you had showed up to our scheduled meeting time, you could have avoided being hit. I could have avoided freezing all of my extremities off, and I wouldn’t have to be helping your ass to the infirmary.” 

The noise of your bickering outside of the infirmary wing attracted the nurse to the hallway, who furrowed her eyebrow in silent question over the two of you. 

“He got hit by a Bludger, ma’am,” you supply as soon as you see her. Her eyes widen instantly as she rushed forward, helping you guide Beomgyu into an empty cot. She shooed you aside as she fretted over him, asking questions about the incident in a low, steady tone before nodding seriously. Without any kind of warning, Beomgyu was pulling the fabric of his uniform over his head, leaving his top half bared to you. Your cheeks burned, and you cleared your throat nervously. The nurse was too busy prodding at the blossoming bruise to have heard your stutter, but Beomgyu was nothing if not aware. 

His dark eyes found your form standing just a few paces away, staring unabashedly at the faint hint of his abs that had become visible. 

“Somethin’ you like?” He drawled playfully, snapping you out of your reverie. 

“Merlin, no.” You sneered, hoping to cover the thickness of your tone as you swallowed hard. “Just trying to decide if I should tell the Quidditch team to get their backup trained for the game tomorrow night.” Beomgyu’s face fell at the implication of your words and a sting of regret struck your heart. 

“There will be no need for a backup, dear,” the nurse cooed, shuffling her feet as she gathered up a few healing supplies. She offered a bottle of innocent looking clear liquid to Beomgyu and he drank it instantly, grimacing at what you assumed to be a foul taste. “Now, dear, if you don’t fancy seeing your boyfriend in more pain as I heal him-”

“Please. He is not my boyfriend. I just helped him get here. I’ll be going now, anyway. See you tomorrow?” You asked pointedly, hoping he would understand your incessant need to finish the Potions project. He nodded slightly, and you scanned Beomgyu’s form one more time before excusing yourself to the nurse and scurrying back to your dorm. 

——

“I better hear a thank you.” Beomgyu asserted as soon as he slumped in the seat across from you. He had been so quiet in his approach to the table that you hadn’t heard him until now, rocketing your gaze up towards him from the pages of your Transfiguration book. 

“Beomgyu,” you breathed, relieved to see that he had been healed and able to return to classes just the morning after the Bludger hit. You schooled your features into cool indifference as soon as you saw his mouth twitch up at the sound of his name. “For what am I thanking you? Withholding information about the project?” 

“No,” he shook his head, springing a few carefully parted hairs loose from their spot. “For- number one-” he paused dramatically, drumming his bony fingers against the edge of the high-topped table, “providing you all the information for finishing this project.” Out of seemingly nowhere he produced a thick roll of parchment that unrolled to reveal a step by step explanation. Pages of carefully written instructions went into great detail on every step of the potions that needed to be made. A sense of relief and happiness washed through you, enough to make your hands curl into excited fists as you beamed. 

“Turns out our Seeker is good at more than catching a Snitch. She got the highest marks in this class last year, and agreed to share the notes with me.” 

“Thank you, Beomgyu. Seriously. I was beginning to worry.” 

“I know, I know. It feels good to be your savior, Y/N. Oh, which reminds me of reason number two; the fact that I spared you a Bludger hit last night.” 

“I thought we’d already covered this. Most of that encounter was your fault. Plus, your little shove left me with a bruise of my own on my ass.” Pouting, you shifted your weight in an attempt to alleviate the pain against said bruise. 

“Just admit it, Y/N,” he leaned forward, his face mere inches from your own so as not to be heard by anyone around. “You’re indebted to me. Two times over.” He was cocky, but you had to admit he had a point. As much grief as he had caused you, he had saved you from both a failing grade and an injury in just under 24 hours. 

“You’ve got a point.” Beomgyu shrunk back into his seat, cocking his head to the side as if he hadn’t heard you correctly. It seemed like he was waiting for a witty remark or some kind of argument to his words, but you kept a sure, steady gaze on him instead. Either your eyes were playing tricks on you or there was a slowly building flush of red blooming from under the collar of his cable-knit sweater onto his cheeks. Against your will, your mind reproduced the image of his bared chest from last night. 

“What do I owe you?” The question rolled off of your tongue like butter as you took the chance to lean forward to him, balancing carefully on your stool with your elbows planted onto the table. 

“I-I just,” Beomgyu frowned at his stutter, apparently upset by his own lack of confidence. His mouth opened and closed again in quick succession and you grinned wider. Another teasing lilt was right at the tip of your tongue, but the booming voice of your professor cracked the tension wide open and had you sitting back on your stool. 

——

Two days later, you stand behind your stool in Potions class, wringing your hands together nervously. Your portly professor had spent all morning swirling around the class, leaning over the cauldrons and vials present at every table. He muttered a few things to every pair of students, nodding along as they explained their approach to him. It seemed as if he were grading on the spot, since you caught a glimpse of a quill gliding over a small strip of parchment. 

Finally the elder approached your table, bushy eyebrows pinched into one another as he had already begun to scrutinize the potions laid out for him. He said nothing as he approached, quietly appraising your work. One by one, he picked up the vials one by one, peering through the clear bottom and giving them an experimental swirl. He hummed happily to himself and your heart soared. Across the table you noticed Beomgyu looking equally pleased. The professor set down the vials one by one before leveling his gaze onto you. 

“How do you think you did?” He questioned, producing the same thin strip of parchment you’d seen him use at other tables. Palms sweating, you stole a glance at Beomgyu who gave you an encouraging wave of his hand. 

“I think we did quite well, professor. It took us a bit to get the whole project together, but I feel confident in our end results here.” Nervously, your eyes skated down to his quill, tapping against the parchment rhythmically. 

“Well, I think you did quite well, the two of you. These potions are near perfect. Couldn’t make them any better myself.” It felt as if the air had been sucked from your lungs, shocking you beyond belief. Never once in your life did you think you’d be receiving such high marks in Potions- especially with Beomgyu as your partner. Your professor marked a delicate “A+” on the small strip of parchment. 

Beomgyu threw a triumphant fist in the air, wiggling in his spot with pure excitement. Your professor let out a belly laugh, spinning around to address the entire class. 

“I didn’t want to advertise this since I wanted you all to put in your best, pure efforts to the project. But, now that I’ve reviewed everyone’s work and determined the best,” you swapped a look of confusion with Beomgyu, both assuming that he was referring to you. “I am offering an award to our friends at Station 1!” He motioned to the two of you wildly, robes flailing as you ushered to the front of the room. Your peers glared at the two of you, but you were too far onto cloud nine to care. 

“Good thing I got those notes, huh?” Beomgyu muttered to you. Your eyes rolled to the back of your head. 

“Good thing I spent all last night making sure we actually had the potions to present.” Keeping your voice low and level to keep him from sensing just how grateful you were for his efforts. The class murmured lowly, surely trading snide remarks about the two of you until the professor cleared his throat pointedly.

From the pocket of his robes, the professor pulled out two small, clear vials. One was pressed into each of your palms, and you stared up at him with confusion. Maybe this was a sign you should have paid more attention to the types of potions around you.

“Luck potions, please use them carefully” he supplied helpfully, swirling back around to face the entire class. “Now, who’s willing to take a photo of me and our winners?” The professor bellowed, producing an old film camera from somewhere and brandishing until someone shuffled off of their stool.

——

Fresh, fluffy snow floated down in gentle waves outside the window. It was the thick of winter now, and despite your best efforts to bundle up you were still huddling into yourself for warmth as students shuffled into Potions around you. Everyone seemed especially lethargic, yearning for the break from classes that Christmas promised. You laid your head onto your folded arms, feeling just as exhausted as the atmosphere suggested. 

Sleep had been evading you lately, annoyingly deceptive as you would lay down in bed tired only to be kept awake by your racing mind for several hours. Somehow settling into your arms in this classroom was the most content you’d felt in days. And then you felt a firm push at the back of your head. There was no mistaking who the perpetrator was, especially as you heard the scrape of a stool directly across from you. 

“Good morning to you too, Beomgyu.” He was perched perfectly on his stool, eyes wide and bright. For as long as you’d known him, he had thrived in the cold and the snow. “You are obnoxiously cheerful. God damn Gryffindors.” 

“Not my fault you’re such a grouch. But I guess it is true that snakes don’t like the cold.” 

“Do you ever let up? Or do you get pleasure out of ruining my mood every single morning?” 

A grin cracked his lips as a short laugh bubbled through. “Thinking about my pleasure, are you? Concerned I’m not getting enough? I can assure you that-”

“Okay, gross. Stop. Enough. You know that isn’t what I meant.” Quite honestly, you had no time to endure his usual teasing so you simply turned your body away from him, idly watching the professor gather his things at the desk. 

“Right, let’s get going! We need all the time we can manage today!” He seemed more jubilant than usual as he centered his own cauldron onto the middle of his desk. “Today we’ll be making love potions. Amortentia, you may know. If you’ll open to page 104, you can find the procedure. It is important to note that this potion cannot make anyone truly fall in love, but it does create a strong attraction to whomever you make with it in mind. Of course, the full effect doesn’t apply unless it is consumed. Today we will simply be brewing it for practice. If done correctly, the potion will emulate-” 

“The scent of what you find most attractive,” you muttered absent mindedly, reading directly off of the page you had open in your lap. 

“Exactly, miss Y/N. Your potion today will smell like what you find most appealing.” He nodded proudly. A feeling of anxiety rose in your chest as he rattled on. No matter how hard you tried you couldn’t think of the type of scents that would come from the potion. You were quite fond of some scents in candle form, but you wouldn’t classify them as...attractive. Even more worrying was the idea that no matter how hard you tried, you would have to reveal this concoction in front of Beomgyu, who took every chance presented to torment you. Your professor clapped his hands together, marking the beginning of your working period. 

The instructions were simple enough, so you took extra care to be sure that the   measurements were as perfect as you could get them. The room was shrouded in a hushed silence that indicated everyone was working hard on this. After all, this was the most exciting potion that’d been offered to you all year. 

“Can’t wait to see which poor dude you have a crush on,” Beomgyu chuckled as he stirred his pot exactly three times counter-clockwise. 

“Could say the same for you! I seriously petty whichever girl you’ve been fancying. Imagine being at the receiving end of your...ick. You’d better tell me who it is so I can send them a warning.” You stirred your pot the same way he had, watching the mixture turn to a stereotypical bright pink. The instructions lead you to allow the mixture to culminate for exactly two minutes before any results could be sought. 

The students who happened to work faster than you were already taking a sniff at their potions and recording the scents on their parchment, some pairs gossiping amongst one another about what they smelled. A clank of metal had you whipping your head upwards, locking eyes with Beomgyu as adjusted his small cauldron to bend over his potion. Since it wasn’t your own, there was no scent for you to distinguish, but you watched the way his eyes widened in shock for a second. 

Unfortunately you had no time to process his expressions before you had to examine the contents of your own cauldron. Before you could even take a deliberate sniff, your senses were rushed with a mix of sweetened musk, a wood that seemed somewhere between cedar and mahogany, and an addicting citrusy undertone that you eventually recognized as bergamot. You placed it immediately.

“Merlin, Beomgyu. Could you refrain from spraying your cologne right now? Why are you even carrying it with you in the middle of-” The words died in your throat as you realized how incriminating your words had become, seeing as Beomgyu had nothing but his quill in his hands. A feeling of sickness rose in the back of your throat as he let out a hearty laugh. 

“My cologne, huh? I actually didn’t even have time to put any on today,” he peered over at your parchment, his height allowing him to easily read the fragrance notes you had scribbled before complaining. “But those are the exact notes of what I wear.” 

Your cheeks flamed, the heat radiating so fully through your system that you felt yourself begin to sweat despite how cold you’d been before. There was no worse fate than this, you decided. Amortentia had betrayed you, putting you under the mercy of Beomgyu’s knowing stare. Fuck, did he really have to find out now that the smell of his cologne secretly drove you crazy? That as much as you hated the way he teased and antagonized you, somewhere deep down you’d never quite lost the crush you developed in second year? 

“I was beginning to think you might’ve had a crush on me, Y/N. Isn’t that so sweet! The stony little Slytherin finally realizing that she’s attracted to me...this is quite the revelation!” Beomgyu lamented, obviously overjoyed at the new ammo he could load into his teasing. 

As much as you searched, you could find no words to defend yourself, as the proof was truly in the potion. A bit defeated, you sunk back into your stool, content to bury your face into your hands until your next class began; but at your new level you could see Beomgyu’s own piece of parchment scrawled with what he had smelled. Reading them upside down was a bit of a challenge, but he was too busy complimenting himself to recognize your analytical stare. Written in a neat list were the scents: sage, some type of berry (juniper?), eucalyptus, something woody (cedar?). 

Your heart stuttered, a bitter laugh threatening to spill out and give yourself away. Skillfully you held it back, cursing to any god or deity who might be listening. The notes matched up exactly with the perfume you wore every single day.

——

“You asked him why he sprayed his cologne?” Georgiana gaped at you across the table in the Great Hall. The two of you had joined up for lunch just hours after your Potions class disaster.

“Yes, but that’s not all! Just before I melted into a puddle of my own dispair, I saw his list, and I swear to Merlin it’s the exact notes of my perfume! Look,” you produced the travel-sized bottle from your pocket, flipping it to the back label and listing off the exact ingedients.

“Wow,” Georgiana nodded, sinking her teeth into a piece of pizza. “That’s quite remarkable.”

“Why are you not giving me more of a reaction?” You whined, stomping your foot against the floor petulantly. She raised an eyebrow high, taking a few more chews at her food.

“You want me to be honest? Or nice?” She asked, weighing the invisible options on her hands in front of you.

“Honest, I guess.”

“Oh, I was hoping you’d pick that one. You see, my sweet Y/N, the two of you have been dancing around this for years. Even though you renounced him all those years ago, I still talk to him on occasion. Not to mention he’s friends with Soobin, so I’ve been provided with some...insider information. To be honest, Soobin and I have both been waiting for the day the two of you finally stopped bickering and like...made out.”

Your face twisted unpleasantly, shocked at her words. “Insider information?” You croaked, creases forming in your forehead. Georgiana smiled devilishly and you swore you could see red horns rising from her fiery hair.

“Beomgyu talks about you all the time. Apparently, back when he was dating Klara, he would often talk to Soobin about how she never bantered with him like you did. They broke up because he kept comparing her to you. Told Soobin that he’s had a crush on you just as long as you have, but he thought you thoroughly hated him.”

“He has a crush on me?” You sputtered, stomach twisting into knots somewhere between disbelief and excitement. Georgiana full on laughed upon seeing your face, the cackle permeating through the air and turning heads.

“Well, I’m not gonna be the one to bring it up. If he’s got a crush on me, he can bring it up.” You suddenly decide, finally indulging in the pizza that had been waiting for you since you sat down.

“That’s my girl, stubborn to the very end.” Georgiana grinned and offered her hand for a high five that you eagerly returned.

——

The weekend brought you a much needed break from both schoolwork and all things Beomgyu related. Christmas break was fast approaching, and all of your professors had surprisingly laid off on assignments. It seemed as if they were just as tired of grading as you were of doing the work.

Unsurprisingly you found yourself in the library, sitting underneath the twinkling of the fairy lights set up especially for the holidays. Most other students were out socializing, so the room was pleasantly vacant. As a result you were able to settle into one of the plush velvet couches that were usually occupied.

After roaming the aisles you’d found an anthology of wizard poetry that piqued your interest. Settling beteeen the cushions of the couch with a book made you feel the most at home you ever had, cracking open the delicate binding and balancing the book in your stomach as you began to read.

There was no way to tell how long you’d been reading, but by your estimations it was only about 20 minutes before someone was looming above you. Startled, you lifted your gaze over the book to see none other than Beomgyu standing before you. He was decked out in a sage green sweater paired with slightly oversized beige slacks. He had forgone his robes, but his Head Boy pin still shined on the breast of his shirt. Typical.

“Can I help you?” You asked, finally sitting up to regard him.

“I thought you’d be here.” He said simply, shuffling on his feet awkwardly. You blinked.

“That doesn’t answer my question,” you poked, slipping your book shut dramatically. “Did you want to ask me something?” Beomgyu licked at his lips before rubbing his fingers against his forehead.

“Merlin, why do you make everything so hard?” He groaned and seemingly became so exhausted that he collapsed onto the ornate rug under his feet. Seeing that you’d riled him up so much by doing practically nothing sent excitement through your veins. As much as the bickering annoyed you, there was no denying the thrill you felt when giving him back a taste of his medicine.

“What exactly am I making so hard? I don’t even know what you’re here for. To be honest I’m shocked you managed to find me in the library. I figured you would start to burn at the door and have to find a different way in.”

Beomgyu rolled his eyes, a hint of a smirk playing at his pillowy lips.

“Don’t act like you don’t know why I’m here.” He finally began to reveal the award winning smile you’d come to know whenever he teased you. “I know what Georgiana told you.” His voice was low, so quiet that if there had been any other souls in the library you’d have missed it.

Your eyes flew open and he flushed instantly. “You two aren’t exactly quiet at the Great Hall, and I’ve got more than a few friends.” It was your turn to flush red, wondering just how many conversations between you and Georgiana had been overheard by other people. 

“So you know that I said...” 

“Why do you think I’m here? All it took was me knowing you also...you know,” he picked at the nonexistent loose threads in the carpet. Honestly, you were shocked at how reserved he had become in the face of this confrontation. All traces of his usual confidence seemed to have vanished in the moment. 

“I do like you, Beomgyu. I had a massive crush on you in second year, but then we got into that fight and-”

“I wouldn’t call it a fight,” he countered animatedly. “You just never understood my humor. All this time, I was hoping that you would catch the hints.” 

“Hints?” It felt like your eyes were going to fall out of your head with how wide you held them. “You call those hints? I’d call those lackluster clues, at best.” 

He was quiet for a moment, examining the smirk on your lips carefully. In a moment of impulse you slid off of the couch to sit opposite him on the floor, knees touching. Your heart hammered against your ribs.

“I’m sorry,” he muttered, gripping at his thighs nervously. “Didn’t know how else to go about it.” 

“That’s okay, me either, obviously.” A rueful laugh escaped your lips, and he returned one just as easily. Up this close, the planes of his face were defined by the delicate light provided from the fairy lights. Shyly you shared glances, neither of you knowing quite how to deal with the charged anticipation in the air.

“Will you...come to the last Quidditch game tomorrow?” He finally spoke, snapping your attention back to him.

“Only if I don’t have to wear one of your ugly jerseies.” Feeling bold, you leaned forward just a few inches, beginning to close the gap between you gradually.

“Fine,” he acquised, leaning forward just the same as you had, his breath fanning hot over your face. “In exchange for not wearing a jersey, how about you...” he tapped at his lips cheekily. A surge of excitement tumbled through you.

“That’s a shit way of asking me to kiss you for the first time, Choi.” Nevertheless you leaned forward further, bumping your nose against his own before you finally pecked him firmly on the lips. You felt ridiculously shy, like you were having your first kiss all over again, but Beomgyu smiled reassuringly, pulling your hands into his own and linking them together. The touch encouraged you both, and your lips collided with more assurance than before.

The faint scent of pumpkin juice lingered on his lips, and you wondered how many bottles he’d drank before finally deciding to come find you. Finally you both sought a new breath, taking a moment to close your eyes and collect yourself. When they fluttered back open you saw Beomgyu staring back at you intently, pupils reflecting the strands of lights strung above you.

He mumbled something so quietly that you couldn’t even hear it at your close distance.

“What was that?” You asked, wondering if you’d caught the end of a charmingly romantic thought.

“I said you’re in need of practice.” He smirked, leaning back of his hands cockily.

“Fuck you, man,” you slapped at his shoulder with a firm clap. He gasped, a hand covering his heart as if he were being sworn into a committee.

“Already? I didn’t take you for such an impure heart!” Another hearty laugh bounced around the library and you ducked your head into your hands, resigning to the fact that you were stuck with him.

[djarrex]

Listen, clone wars era rex is the sweetest sub ever. Zero brat energy like others (coughwolffecough), he is absolutely there to please you and experience all the ways you make him feel loved. But it takes a bit for him to find out that he actually likes being a sub. With everything he is responsible for, I think he feels to bring that same energy to the bedroom - only problem is he isn’t very experienced. He’s not a virgin, but the most he's had are some quickies in the bathroom of 79s. So when you first get together, he feels he needs to be the one taking charge (even though he isn’t really sure what to do). It’s only after a particularly difficult mission when he is with you and he is at a loss of what to do. He knows he needs you, but he can’t focus. He just wants to stop thinking about how badly the mission went, how many brothers he lost. He just wants to get lost in you. That’s when you take over. You start showering him with love, kisses, words of praise, everything. You tell him all the things you’re going to do to him and he immediately falls for it. Relinquishing control is calming and a relief, something he never expected. He loves seeing you in power, seeing his smart and strong girl taking over, dishing out orders that Rex is all too ready to follow. As long as it means you’ll sit on his face, ride him, suck his dick, or just touch him, he’s all for it. Not to mention it lets him forget that he is a captain. In these moments, it’s just you and him.....Or I mean something like that. I dunno 😬

insp

VEE!!! 🆘️ "He brings a new meaning to 'good soldiers follow orders'" 😈😏 you rightttttt

Look, I'm all for dom Rex - I love to write it and I love to read it. That being said, I'm totally on board with the idea of having to show Rex exactly what he needs for him to feel good, to forget - especially after an extremely tough and emotionally/mentally/physically draining mission. Rex just wants - no, needs - someone else to take control every now and then, even if he doesn’t realize it at first.

SOOOO this kinda got away from me. literally could have wrote more but I have an assignment to work on (lmaooo). maybe I’ll do like a continuation of this later on? if that’s what the people want? 

some warnings include: face riding, sub!rex, no-no words, uhhh... 🥴

AS ALWAYS, 18+ only under the cut :’)

***

Rex stands at your doorway, his forehead glued to the arm that's propped up against the door frame, helmet loosely gripped by his other hand hanging down at his side. It hurts to see him like this - drained, both physically and mentally. Bags under his tired eyes. Dirt on his face and caked on all over his armor. Even though he was created for battle, it's doing a number on him with each and every one he makes it out of; he physically makes it out of each and every battle, but not mentally, and not emotionally. It's always there - the loss, the bloodshed, the need to take charge, and the responsibility to ensure his men's safety - lingering inside his head no matter where he is or what he's doing.

Including the times when what he's doing is you.

When you and Rex first got together he was unsure, a little on the inexperienced side, but he was rough. You didn't mind of course; you liked it rough, and it was never like he'd hurt you or would ever come near to hurting you. You thought that maybe the roughness was due to his sexual inexperience, that the only other times he’d have sex in the past were just that. You really didn’t think too much about it, especially not when he was in the middle of pounding you into another galaxy before making you cum all over his cock over and over again.

As time went on, you started to understand where the roughness within the intimacy was stemming from; everything that had happened on the actual battlefield before he'd come home - including the battlefield within his mind - was being channeled into the way he handled you. Even outside the warzone, safe within your arms, Rex feels he needs to maintain control - to take charge. You understood, and let him have his outlet - It's not like you weren't benefiting from it; Rex may not have had much to go on before fucking you for the first time, but after months and months of practice, he'd become a fucking god in the bedroom.

There were definitely softer moments when he'd be crowded over you, trailing messy kisses from your collarbone up to your lips, his hips gently thrusting into you while hitting oh so deep. When your lips would be just barely touching as you breathed in each other's moans. When you'd both maintain eye-contact while simultaneously unraveling. The more gentle, loving, and softer moments weren't ones that followed his return home from a long deployment, no - those were reserved for all the times in between. You'd fallen in love with each other, but refrained from mouthing those three words in fear that you'd both be punished from feeling such forbidden things for one another.

And so tonight, seeing the drained and defeated expression engrained in his handsome features and the way his body slumped forward as he entered your apartment after a long couple of weeks was a telltale sign that this would be one of those rough nights.

You wanted to try something new, though.

***

"I want to take care of you, Rex." 

He’d just got out of the ‘fresher, giving you some time to think while he was getting cleaned up. A towel loosely hangs around his hips, water droplets gliding down his toned muscles as he moves closer to where you’re sat at the foot of your bed.

"You will take care of me, cyare." He grins while rubbing his hands along your upper arms. You release a puff of air from your nostrils, focusing on a particular water droplet slowly descending from his collarbone and trailing down to where the material of the towel soaks it right up before tilting your head to meet his eyes. 

You shake your head with a smile, speaking softly as you rest your hand against his abdomen, "No, that's not what I mean." You’re met with an amused yet confused look and you continue, "I want you to just lay back, and let me handle things for once. Is that okay?" 

"I..." He trails off, clearly not sure what to say. You know he must’ve already had a plan on how the night would go, and that plan was probably supposed to take effect after he drops his towel. Now you’re met with the face of a man who is unsure of what to do now that the plans are about to change - he’s nervous. You keep that smile on your lips when you reach down to intertwine your fingers with his, bringing the backs of his hands up to your lips and placing soft kisses on each one.

"You're safe with me, Rex. Safe here. You don't need to think about everything when you're here with me, okay? I just.... wanna try something."

***

Wow. What a fucking vision he is right now.

Rex, the esteemed Captain of the five-oh-first, completely bare and sprawled out on his back on top of your sheets, has his head craned to watch you strip at the foot of the bed. His cock is painfully hard, twitching ever so slightly with each of his eager heart beats as he struggles to watch you undress - teasingly slow.

"Look at you, Rex." You audibly marvel at man you love, knowing what the praise does to him - it's very evident in how his glistening chest rapidly rises and falls and in the twitching of fingers. "My handsome, brave Rex. So good for me, doing just as I say," you coo at him, making your way from the foot of the bed to the side where your naked body can be level with his head. He turns his face towards you, his pupils blown wide and brow furrowed. He needs this. You crouch down, moving to where your eyes are in line with his as you reach to caress his sharp cheekbone. "Does it feel good so far, Rex?" you whisper while running your thumb along his bottom lip. "Does it feel good to let someone else call the shots for once?"

"Y-yes," he strains, followed by a muffled groan when you sink your thumb into his hot mouth. His eyes search for approval and you nod to him with a sweet smile before he begins to gently suck at your thumb - his perfect lips closing a seal around the thickest digit as you move it in and out slowly.

"First," you pull your thumb from his lips before standing up, "I'm gonna ride that pretty face of yours. If you're good and keep your hands to yourself I might sit on your gorgeous cock and ride you until I tell you to cum. How does that sound?" You punctuate your plans by closing your lips around the same thumb that was just in Rex's mouth, giving a couple sucks while staring right into his eyes before popping it out and tracing his abs with the soaked digit. The groan of approval that spills from Rex's lips goes straight to your cunt.

Wasting no more time, you climb on the bed and throw one leg on the other side on his face. Gripping the headboard for balance, you begin to sink down against him and are instantly met with his expert tongue, licking through your folds before you’re all the way sat. Fuck. He always was the best with his tongue, but this time, you’re the one in control. Crouched and straddled over his face, you begin to gently move your hips back and forth against the wet muscle, letting your already soaked cunt slide against his perfect face. You have never done something like this before, and oh fucking boy is it exhilarating. 

It isn’t very long before you start to feel the blossom of heat within your core, the intense shockwaves that trickle through your body making you quiver against his face. You wanted this whole thing to be about Rex, but there’s no stopping the orgasm that shatters its way through you, making you cry out and smack a palm against the headboard. Rex’s tongue works in double-time, gliding back and forth to collect your release and stopping to flick at your clit in between deep groans. You feel him hum - deep and dark - beneath you, the vibrations making you nearly fall forward from the intensity. 

“R-rex,” you pant, peering down to look at his dark honey eyes as they meet yours while his tongue continues its assault. You lower a hand to tap at his head, and his tongue disappears back into his mouth. When you lift off his face, you inch yourself downwards, placing kisses on every spot of skin your mouth can reach as you make your way to his thighs. He’s trembling, fighting to keep his hands at his sides but he does so like a good boy - and you tell him just that.

You let out a blissed-out sigh, now straddling his thighs while your palms rest against his chest. “You did so good for me, Rex. Fuck, you look so pretty with all of me on your handsome face.” He doesn’t say a word, just stares at you with pleading eyes, lips glistening and parted. His cock twitches in front of you - swollen and desperate.  

You lean forward to meet his face, your lips just barely touching his as you whisper into his agape mouth, “You want me to fuck you, Rex?” punctuated by a nibble to his bottom lip. His only response is a throaty moan before you lean back to watch him, your fingers tracing invisible patterns along the dark skin of his thighs. You raise a brow at him, signaling your need for a verbal answer to which he visibly gulps, eyes clamping shut as he nods before choking out:

“P-please fuck me, cyare.”

***

edit: I’m literally so sorry that I keep forgetting to tag my Clone Bois peeps in things like this :(((

@deewithani @chromia7567 @threevie @letitrainathousandflames @latenightsthoughtsnstuff @justanothersadperson93 @ohtobeamoth @14mcmd1122 @tacticalsparkles @cheesemachine44 @bvcketfvcker

[songmingisthighs]

Hooked

introduction pt. i | pt. ii | pt. iii

ch. xlvi - kinky fantasy

<< previous | masterlist | next >>

??? × reader, ateez × reader

A freshman hookup rekindled into something new. With an incentive, of course. But what would happen if your 'relationship' led you somewhere you never thought would happen to you ?

When you got back to the frat, you realized how silent it is. Usually, the boys would be running around everywhere, wreaking havoc in the best way possible. But the silence that enveloped the frat was quite a nice change. Slightly eerie, but still nice.

Realizing that there were probably no one around to bother you, you decided to try on the new clothes you just got.

You got into your room without closing the door all the way, leaving it slightly ajar. You put the shopping bags on your bed and put your own bag next to them.

Without wasting much time, you immediately unpacked the contents of the shopping bag, grinning at the items you bought. You bought some clothes that you'd wear out but those weren't the ones that made you feel giddy and excited.

Your hand excitedly reached into the black shopping bag and took out the contents carefully. The boys had been quite affectionate with you lately and you've been getting laid way more than you usually did. That increased your libido and was actually why you went shopping.

The fabric of the lace black and red bustier set was different compared to the pink babydoll. You had also paired a black choker and black mid-thigh length stocking for the bustier set and white thigh-highs for the babydoll. You laid them both to decide which one to try first.

Finally, you decided on trying the babydoll first. You slipped your clothes off and began putting on the garment. As you had hoped, it was perfect for you. It's the perfect amount of cute combined with sexiness but is still comfortable. The fabric felt soft on you and it just made you felt good.

Lastly, you decided to go all-in and try the thigh-highs as well. You sat at the edge of your bed and began pulling one up your leg.

But as you were putting on the other one, someone had opened the door, making you jump up to cover your body with the shirt you had just worn before you took it off. Not that it helped cover anything.

"(Y/N), I heard you came back a- what are you doing?" Jongho blinked his eyes innocently at you, half in confusion.

Neither one of you said anything, only staring at each other. You, not knowing exactly what to say or how to explain yourself. Jongho, still not realizing that you had been caught off-guard trying on your new lingerie.

It wasn't until Jongho's eyes shifted over your body that a smirk appeared on his face. "Oh, I see what you were doing," he closed the door and walked over to you. He knelt in front of you and carefully took a hold of the thigh-highs that was pulled up only until your calf, "may I?" he asked, looking up at you.

You bit your bottom lip but nodded at him. Before his hands moved to pull the thigh-highs over, he nodded at the shirt you were using to shield your scantily clad body.

"Show me what you were trying on," he ordered. You blushed but obeyed him promptly. You put the shirt down onto the bed and let his eyes roam over your body.

You knew Jongo has quite the baby girl kink so when his tongue darted out to lick at his bottom lip, you almost whimpered submissively at him.

His eyes slowly move downwards from your face to your chest and then to your thighs, and finally to the thigh-highs. As his fingers glided over the thin material, his eyes followed up very slowly. Once the material was fully on you, he let his fingers traced over the hem before it rested on your inner thighs and his lips left a trail of kisses from your knee up to your thighs.

"Please tell me you bought this for me," he mumbled against your skin. You held back a moan when his hands began squeezing your thighs, one of his hands snuggly in between your legs, strategically placed so close to your core.

"I mean, you were one of the few main reasons I bought this particular piece," you giggled when he bit lightly at the skin of your thigh. He groaned lowly at your response before suddenly pouncing on you, hovering over your body as he melded his lips with yours.

Your hands immediately tangle themselves up in his hair, tugging on them and letting your fingernails scrape on his scalp. His lips moved with yours to express his urgency, you knew he wanted and needed you that moment.

"J-Jongho," you called out to him. He only grunted in response, lips too preoccupied nibbling your bottom one and hands roaming all over your body, enjoying the feeling of your lingerie. "Jongho," you called him again, whining.

Reluctantly, Jongho got off your lips and moved to the junction of your neck, "what?" he mumbled against your skin. Without having to look at him, you knew he had his eyes closed. Whenever you have the chance, you'd most likely dress up a little for him. Visual stimulation tends to drive Jongho a little crazy and when he does, these tend to be mind-numbingly amazing.

"I'm still on my period, Ho," you told him. When you felt his lips stopped moving on your skin, you bit your bottom lip in anticipation of what his reaction might be.

He suddenly dropped his whole body weight on you and rested his chin on your chest. He was looking at you with the best puppy eyes he could muster, "does that mean I can't fuck you?" his bottom lip jutted out adorably. You cooed at him, your hands moved to push his hair away from his face, "Unless you want a messy, bloody dick, then I'm afraid not," you pouted back at him.

Jongho groaned loudly before burying his face on your chest. "This is not fair, I really wanna fuck you and this little outfit made you look extra fuckable," you heard him grumble even though it was a bit muffled. You chuckled at how he's acting right now, "you drama queen, there are other ways to get your dick wet,"

At the proposition of having other options, Jongho lifted his head up at you, interested. "I can always suck you off," you suggested, "or jack you off," you added, "or I can use your thighs?" he asked. You tilted your head at him, "what, like humping on me?" he rolled his eyes at you, "no, like fucking myself with your thighs,"

You pondered over the idea for a bit. You may not be able to get your pussy pounded right now, but the idea of having Jongho used you like a sex toy is beyond arousing.

"Okay, how do you want to do this?" you smirked at him. Hearing your confirmation, Jongho visibly perked up. "You're not gonna regret this," he said before returning to connect his lips with yours in a heated kiss.

You moaned when you felt his hands reached up and squeeze your boobs. His fingers slipped into the cups of your bra to play with your nipples. He expertly rolled and pinch them, playing them however he likes. The added pleasure from his toying on your chest shot straight to your core. Your thighs automatically widened and grind onto Jongho's hips.

When your core made contact with him, you could feel how hard he is through his sweatpants. You moaned into his mouth at the thought of how he was probably already leaking.

Your hands move on their own, shoving into his pants to feel him, He was already erect, his cock felt heavy and hot in your hand.

As you began to stroke him slowly, Jongho grunted into your mouth. His teeth sunk into your bottom lip when your thumb pressed on his slit. Though it stung slightly, the feeling soon dissipated and turn into added pleasure.

When Jongho began grinding into your hand, you felt like you wanted to see more. So your free hand tugged on his sweatpants to conveyed what you wanted to him. Jongho leaned back slightly to see your pouty face. How he loves it when you're whiny and begging for him.

He simply chuckled but granted your request. He scooted backwards to his feet and began undressing. As he slowly peeled his shirt off, revealing his broad chest and shoulder, your legs dropped open and you immediately press two fingers to your clit, making you moan. Just before Jongho pulled his sweatpants off, he heard you moaned and smirked teasingly, "didn't know me stripping would have such an effect on you," he simply said before pulling his pants and boxers off with one single motion.

At the sight of his erection, your eyes zeroed in on it. Your eyes glazed over the pretty veins on it and you licked your lips when you see his reddened tip, his precum only making his cock look even more appealing.

Jongho chuckled at the way you're blatantly checking his dick out. "You can have this inside your pretty pussy after you're done bleeding," he joked which made you scowl at him.

Instead of getting back on top of you, he swept the shopping bags off your bed and plopped down in the middle of it. He turned his head to you and patted his lap, "hop on baby," he grinned.

You giggled at the way he addressed you but immediately move to straddle his lap. Once you were situated comfortably, you began grinding your clothed core directly on his dick whilst maintaining eye contact with him. With the intensity of everything, Jongho was looking at you with a very wild, animalistic stare.

"Let me rephrase what I said earlier," his hands shot up to your hips and he held you still, "once your period's done," he thrust his hips towards your core, sending you gasping and almost toppling over due to his strength, "I'm not," another thrust, "letting you," another thrust, "get off," another thrust, "my dick,"

At his last word, he pulled you down onto his chest and melded your mouths again, "keep your legs straight and closed, baby," he mumbled against your lips.

You did as he told and soon enough, he manoeuvred his dick with his hand to slip between your thighs. The feeling of his dick between your thighs felt different but in a good way. While you usually could feel him directly inside of you, the feeling of being so close to having him inside but not being able to really do so increased your desire to have him.

Jongho thrusted slowly at first, wanting to see how you'd react to the new position. "Tell me," you started, detaching your mouth from his to nibble at his earlobe, "did you learn this from watching porn?" you asked. He craned his neck to expose more of his skin to you, "do you study before tests?" he answered back.

You rolled your eyes at him and bit on his collarbone, "how dare you compare me to tests," you mumbled against his skin. He chuckled but ignored your comment.

He moved his legs to trap you between his strong thighs, making sure that he's snug between your legs. At the change of position, his dick is not only snugly in between your legs but was also pressing at your pussy.

As he increased the speed of his thrust, you moaned loudly when his hips rub against your clit deliciously. Jongho took pride at how loud you're being, "don't hold back, baby, no one's home other than us,"

You did, in fact, moaned louder. Especially when he started to literally use you like a sex toy. He gripped your hips and thrust himself furiously. You knew that he was only thinking about making himself cum. Not that you were complaining because he was doing everything and your job was only to lay there, looking pretty. There was even the added bonus of your pussy receiving some indirect attention.

To add to his pleasure, your hands began roaming on his chest and playing with his nipples as your mouth leave marks on his beautifully tanned skin.

Jongho groaned when you pinched both of his nipples rather harshly. "Make yourself cum for me, Jongho, make me not regret buying this piece of lingerie," you moaned into his ear. With the way your teeth tugging at any skin you could reach and your hand teasing his nipples, it didn't take long for his hips to falter, a sign that he was so close to his release.

You pushed him to the edge by clenching and unclenching your thighs as your lips found their way back to his. Whilst your tongue lashed with each other, you felt Jongho stilled and warm spurt of his cum painted the back of your thigh. To prolong his climax, you ground yourself on him which proved to be effective.

As he relaxed and tried to catch his breath, you simply lied on his body with your arms underneath your head. Your fingers traced shapes on his chest while his tugged on the fabric of your babydoll.

"I really do like this lingerie," he said, breaking the silence. You giggled and looked up to him, "of course you do, Jongho, I know your style," you said before pressing a kiss to his chin.

He suddenly reached to the bedside table to take a few tissues to clean you up from his cum. When you were cleaned up, he patted your butt with a smile on his face, "now, I'd like to see what else you bought so you're gonna do a little fashion show for me,"

You squealed in delight at his idea and immediately jump up to do what he said.

As you were pulling the garments from the bags, Jongho's eyes followed after your movements as he smirked, "and who knows, maybe that'll lead us to a second round," he joked.

You threw a random piece of clothing at him but laughed nevertheless.

"You wish."

taglist :

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[albakore]

Brotherly Rivalry

Synopsis (request): I enjoy your blog maybe way too much, and I just thought of something… how Diluc would be if his s/o is close to Kaeya and vice versa ?? I think these two would be more jealous if their s/o is close to the other 🤔 so yup jealousy hc or whatever you’d like please ^^~

Characters: Kaeya, Diluc (gn!reader)

Warnings: a little angsty in Kaeya's, but there's fluff at the end. also not proofread

A/N: YES !! YES !!!!!! I was so excited to see this request as a diluc and kaeya enjoyer >:D also thank you for the compliments you’re too nice!!

Diluc

if you’re close with kaeya before you start dating him, he tries to block it out at first

he knows rationally that it wasn’t like you had to choose one brother or the other

but also knowing what he knows about kaeya, he does his absolute best to “warn you” about kaeyas “real self”

in his mind he’s only doing it out of concern for your well-being!

he knows kaeya will not have been honest about his background

absolutely denies being jealous.

“I’m not a child…”

glares at kaeya all night whenever kaeya decides he wants to hang out with you at Angel’s share, effectively stealing your attention away from Diluc

but if you ever go out with kaeya just the two of you? oh boy Diluc’s heart might just combust and not in a Good Way

“Hey, ‘Luc, I’m headed out for the day!” You called in the direction of his study as you sat down by the door to put your shoes on.

“Where are you going?” He asked as he emerged from the doorway, heavy footsteps making their way over to where you were sitting.

“Kaeya and I are going out calla lily picking.” You replied cheerily, not taking your eyes off your laces as you worked them up. You didn’t catch the way the man behind you stiffened immediately.

“Just you and him?” He asked tentatively, eyes trained on your back. His eyebrows had furrowed and his lips quirked downward. You let out a small ‘mhm’ before standing up finally and turning around to face him. His chest felt hot but he couldn’t quite put a finger on why, probably just out of concern for you.. yes, that had to be it. Was it always so hard to breathe in here? He crossed his arms over his chest defensively as he kept his eyes trained on you.

“Is something wrong?” You asked, reaching out to smooth over some of his unruly hair. He subconsciously leaned into your touch and let out the breath he didn’t realize he’d been holding.

“Just be careful, ok?” He had so much more he would’ve liked to say, so much more he would’ve liked to tell you to do, but he feared sounding possessive and controlling. He knew you could take care of yourself. It wasn’t like he didn’t trust you either, quite the opposite in fact. He would put the world in your hands without hesitation. So why did the thought of you going out with his brother seem to bother him so much?

“Of course!” You again flashed him a smile, then turned around and let your hand rest on the doorknob.

Before you could even twist the door open, his hand caught your wrist and he turned you around to face him. “(Y/N). I’m serious.” He murmured as he pulled you closer to him. Diluc rarely ever initiated any contact, so the embrace caught you off guard. It was only then that it clicked to you. He didn’t mean stay safe from the hilichurls or abyss mages, he meant from Kaeya. You’d heard a story or two about Kaeya making some questionable decisions in the name of getting the job done, like activating a ruin guard and putting his own men in danger, but he’d never put you in any danger thus far…

You wrapped your arm around Diluc and brought his head to your shoulder comfortingly. “I’ll be fine ‘Luc, promise.” You whispered to him. You could feel his racing pulse under your fingers as his arms stayed wrapped around you. “Say, are you perhaps… jealous?” You added in teasingly as you stroked his hair. He gave a small huff instead of a verbal response tightening his hold on you slightly.

A knock sounded on the door behind you interrupting your moment together. “Well, I better get going. I’ll be back for dinner, okay?” You finally slipped from his grasp as you walked back over for the door. His mind drifted as you greeted his brother, his only thought being how badly he didn’t want to leave you two alone. Maybe he could convince you to let him tag along…

Kaeya

bitter

that’s the best word to describe him

he can’t help but feel inferior to Diluc in a lot of ways, Diluc is rich and compassionate and handsome

not that Kaeya lacks any of those things anyway

well maybe he's not rich but he's definitely financially stable at least

so learning of your friendship, or even knowing prior and trying to pursue a relationship with you anyway

he often finds himself reviewing his actions, your actions, what you find appealing in Diluc, etc. trying to figure out what he should do more or less of to keep your attention solely on him

jokes about it all the time to cover up his true feelings about the scenario.

"Darling if I didn't know any better I'd say you were dating Diluc instead of me." chuckles to hide the pain

will be so absolutely hurt if he finds out you're honest with Diluc about things you weren't open with him about

"Why is he helping you with this instead of me?" Kaeya asked, defensively crossing his arms over his chest. He had learned through his other contacts that the Abyss had targeted you for some reason. They were sending you threats and other vaguely worrying messages, and the worst part is you went to Diluc to ask for help instead of your dear boyfriend! Kaeya had stumbled upon you two out in the wilderness fighting some abyss mages together when he pulled you away giving Diluc some vague excuse about how he needed to talk to you.

"It's not like that, Kae, I swear-" You quickly tried to put his ever racing mind at ease.

"I'm not sure what you mean by that, care to catch me up to speed?" He feigned innocence, wanting to hear you say outright that it looked a little suspicious to be running around with Diluc like you had. Kaeya wanted nothing more than to be able to place his utmost trust in you and for you to be able to do the same with him. This kind of treatment is the kind of thing Kaeya finds happening in his worst nightmares.

You sighed, "you know what I mean."

"No, actually, I don't. I asked a simple question about why he was helping you, I didn't insinuate anything else was going on. In fact, you were the one to bring up the notion that there was something more between you two. Should I be worried?" His eyebrows were furrowed, his gaze fixated on your reaction. His normal cocky smile was replaced with a rare but genuine frown of concern.

"Listen," you started, "the only reason he's helping me is because he got a letter similar to mine. They both asked us to meet our perpetrator at the same location, it was only coincidence on our end that we ended up running into each other." You watched as Kaeya slowly unfolded his arms and let his shoulders sag with a sigh. You grabbed his hand gently, rubbing soothing circles over the skin that peeked out over the leather.

"I was going to tell you at that dinner we had planned tonight." You continued softly, pulling a little envelope out of your back pocket and showcasing to him the Abyss's message to you. "I didn't want to pull you away from your work until I knew what was going on. I never meant to make you feel like I was sneaking around you. For that, I really am sorry." You brought his hand to your lips, placing a soft kiss over his knuckles.

He brought you into a hug and tightened his arms around you, pressing a kiss of his own to your temple. "I'm sorry too. I shouldn't have gotten so defensive." He whispered to you, a soft resignation that not many people got to witness from the usually cocky calvary captain. "If you ever have trouble with anything else, please don't hesitate to come pull me from my work, whether you know the full story or not." A pleasant breeze engulfed the two of you standing in the middle of the forest in each others embrace. Bird chirping and rustling leaves mixed with the sounds of Kaeya's heartbeat to make for the perfect ambience for you two to bask in whilst in each other's presence.

The sound of a branch snapping caused both of you to split apart and draw your weapons on high alert. To your chagrin, there stood and incredibly uncomfortable-looking Diluc just a few feet away from you two. He realized fast that you two had noticed him and he quickly cleared his throat. "Sorry, you two were taking a long time and I grew concerned for (y/n)'s wellbeing.."

[nat-20s]

Part 5 of Wonderful! Au. *boyband voice* banter’s back alright!

Also on AO3

~*~

Jon: Hello everyone, and welcome back to our regular format. If my husband being horribly soppy-

Martin:-hey!-

Jon: -turned you off the how, this should be a refreshing return to formula, though I can’t guarantee there won’t be further horrible soppiness-

Martin, performatively under his breath: -most people thought it was charming-

Jon: -as that tends to happen when one is recording with the love of their life. If last week’s episode is the only one that you like, too bad, I’m back in full form, and should be at least through the rest of the season.

Martin: This show doesn’t have seasons? Due to the whole lack of a narrative thing?

Jon: I was referring to spring.

Martin: Oh, right.

[A beat passes.]

Martin, flatly: Oh. Great goof hon.

Jon, smug: Thank you.

Jon, sincere: Also, before we get properly started, I did want to actually thank everyone who sent well wishes.

M artin: Yes! We got positively inundated with lovely messages, it definitely brightened both of our days. I would even say it was wonderful.

[Jon groans.]

Jon: I am..not proud of the energy we’ve created for this episode so far, and we haven’t even hit the small wonders. Speaking of, do you have a small wonder this week?

Martin: Mine’s bad action movies.

Jon: Really? I had no idea you even liked them, let alone consider them wonderful.

Martin: Okay, so, saying I like them is a bit of a misnomer? It’s more that I like what they can do more than the movies themselves?

Jon: Elaborate?

Martin: It probably comes as a surprise to no one that I’ve tried my hand at a fair amount of mindfulness and mediation techniques. I’ve found poetry and journaling have been helpful for actually processing life events and whatnot, but when it comes to giving your brain a hard wipe and reset, nothing is half as quick and effective as a shitty shoot-em-up. Somethings about 2 hours of cartoonish, pg-13 violence held together with the absolute loosest of plots brings me to a state of mental blankness that would make a monk jealous.

Jon: How have I never witnessed you doing this? When are you sneaking off to go see Micheal Tarantino or who ever films?

M artin: That’s definitely not the right name.

Jon: Martin, dear, I don’t care. And you’re dodging the question.

Martin, fond: I’m not dodging anything. Since apparently we’re getting into it, you haven’t caught me cavorting with a movie involving more explosions than character development lately because I haven’t been. Haven’t needed it, in recent years. Turns out when you’re not crushingly lonely and working a literal nightmare of job, there’s less of a drive to try and escape your own thoughts. Shocker, I know. Still, to anyone out there that feels like their brain is on fire, go try watching a fast and furious. Any of ‘em, it doesn’t matter. Or even better, Chronicles of Riddick. I can’t remember a single goddamn detail of that movie, which makes it perfect for what I’m talking about.

Jon: I have the strong feeling that th is is a “mileage may vary” scenario.

Martin: Well, yeah, that’s this whole podcast. Plus, I imagine that movies like this would cause more stress to someone who cares about, say, world-building or rules consistency.

Jon: I wonder who you could possibly be referring to.

Martin: It’s a purely hypothetical person, love, don’t worry about it. Any small wonders?

Jon: Yes! Particularly relevant to the last week, my small wonder is stripping the sheets from your bed when it’s been too long between washes.

Martin: How very specific. M ost people would just say ‘clean sheets’.

Jon: Well, for one, I’m fairly certain that we’ve already covered clean sheets-

Martin: Shit, have we? Thank god other people keep track of this, otherwise this show would be unbearably repetitive.

Jon: Christ, yes. I typically check the website a good three times while prepping, and every about one out of those three times I find I’m trying to do an topic we did 30 episodes again. Anyway, um, it’s just nice, I think. When you’ve been too busy or sick or away for awhile, tossing the sheets in the wash makes a room instantly seem nicer. Of all the chores out there, this one, at least for me, has the highest reward to effort ratio.

Martin: Hard agree. Especially when the y have that slight funk of having been around to long, getting rid of that is such a relief. Speaking of, we need to change our sheets soon.

Jon: We can do it after the episode. Who goes first this week?

Martin: Considering last week was only me talking, I’m gonna say it’s you.

Jon: Alright, then. My first thing this week is Martin K. Blackwood.

Martin: Absolutely not!

Jon: Oh, you can do a whole episode on me, but I can’t do one little segment on my husband, whom I love very dearly?

Martin: Not while I’m sat here, no!

Jon: So you’re saying you don’t want me to tell the internet that your resolve to be kind even in the face of indescribable cruelty is one of the mot breathtaking things I’ve ever witnessed, or how I find it incredibly endearing when you get so emotional that your voice comes out as a squeak, or even that, on a more base level, you’re very physically attractive, and I could lose entire days thinking about your arms alone?

Martin, audibly blushing, voice the aforementioned squeak: Oh my god, Jon!

Jon, laughing: Then it’s probably for the best that my actual first thing is best friends.

Martin, peaking the audio levels: Oh you absolute bastard! Do you enjoy this? Do you get some sort of perverse sense of entertainment from riling me up?

Jon: Oh, don’t you start. As if you’re not as bad as I am. Maybe even worse.

Martin: That’s not…

Jon: Yes?

Martin: Okay. Maybe it’s slightly true. Really, what is romance for if not flustering your partner with compliments?

Jon, teasing: I certainly can’t think of anything.

Martin: Hush, you.

Jon: No, I don’t think I will.

Martin: Fine. I suppose you can tell our delightful audience about the power of friendship or whatever.

Jon: I would’ve assumed more enthusiasm, considering this segment is still, indirectly, about you.

Martin: In what way?

Jon: In the way that, to the shock of all, you’re my best friend.

Martin, pleased: Oh, is that what I am?

Jon, exasperated: Yes, dearest husband, I wouldn’t have married you otherwise. Though, upon reflection, I knew you were my best friend before I knew I held romantic feelings for you.

Martin: When was that?

Jon, letting out a breath that vibrates his lips: God it was...2016? I think it might’ve literally been the day after you told me about your CV.

Martin: That early? Huh. I wonder if that’s what people were picking up when they said they we were close.

Jon: What people?

Martin: I don’t know specifically, that’s just what Daisy told me.

Jon: Daisy? When the hell-?

Martin: It...was when she was interrogating me? And, because sometimes I have to be a parody of myself, pretty much my only take away from that interrogation was “people think me and Jon are close”.

Jon: Well then. It’s not like they were wrong.

Martin, smug: No, no they weren’t.

Martin, sincere: And you’re my best friend, too.

Jon: I was certainly hoping that you’re in this relationship for more than my good looks and incredible fortune, both in the monetary and luck sense.

Martin: You say that as if you aren’t good looking, which we all know is patently untrue.

Jon: You’re biased. You’d say I was good looking if I were nothing more than some primordial ooze with thoughts about its station.

Martin: I’m being completely objective. If you were primordial ooze with thoughts above its station, you’d be the cutest ooze of them all. That’s just scientific fact.

Jon: I’m starting to think we might be insufferable.

Martin: Starting to? Might be?

Jon:…

[Jon clears his throat]

Jon: What I find wonderful about the concept of best friends is, to me, they’re the closest thing real life has to soulmates. I don’t personally believe that there’s some..grand mystic force that drives people to be tied together in the manner that narrative typical soulmates are, and if there was I don’t think it would necessarily be the kind of emotional, heartfelt bond one would hope for, but I do believe that there’s individuals that get to know one another, and because of that knowledge, they chose to stick with one another. It doesn’t have to be a romantic, which is why I say best friend rather than specifically ‘spouse’, but I would argue that the basis of a strong romance like you and I have, is very much rooted in that connection. A true best friendship is an equal partnership, and there’s a sense of..matched sensibilities and understanding that can be utterly incandescent when it happens.

I also think that having one or more best friends makes living life on a day to day basis both better and just flat easier. The dark times aren’t as dark, and the bright times shine even more. I know from my own personal experience there are events that I..that I don’t know how I would’ve made it through without you. Hell, last week my..recovery period would’ve taken much longer if you hadn’t been there.

It’s an amazing thing to have someone to share things with, both triumphs and burdens. Um, also, according to Dictionary.com, the term best friends in English has been around since the 1200s. Something about that delights me, like, yes, we’ve had this casual way of referring to a Favorite Person for roughly 800 years. That makes it a hold-out from early Middle English. I dunno, it’s one of those things that make me feel overall very charmed by humanity.

Martin, audibly smiling: No, yeah, hard agree.

Jon: What’s that look for?

Martin: Nothing. Just. I love you a whole lot, you know that?

Jon, voice soft: I may have heard you say that once or twice. Per hour.

Martin: Only that often? I really need to be more diligent about that.

[There’s a bet of silence, presumably where they’re making doe eyes at each other.]

Jon: What’s your first thing?

Martin: Oh, um, right. Rats!

Jon: The expression or the animal?

Martin: Jon, have you ever once heard me say “rats” as an expression? Obviously I’m referring to the animal.

Jon: Ah. Should’ve known, considering that what, a third?, of all your segments have been on animals.

Martin: Yeah? And? You got a problem with critters? With creatures? With lil guys?

Jon, laughing: No, no, it’s very sweet. I’m just surprised you never became a vet.

Martin: Oh believe me, I wanted to. But then I learned that it was not, in fact, a job composed entirely of getting paid to play with other people’s pets.

Jon: You had that job, though, didn’t you? I thought I remembered you mentioning a month long stint at a doggie day care.

Martin, sighing dreamily: Best job I ever had. Too bad that place was shut down after it was revealed to be a money laundering front.

Jon: Good lord.

Jon: Martin did you...did you know it was a money laundering front at the time?

Martin:

Martin: Would it make you feel better if I said no?

Jon: Martin!

Martin: I figured it out like a week in, but, like, who cares? The pay was decent and the floor was super easy to clean, which is very much a plus for even a front of a doggie day care.

Jon: That’s...rather a lot. How about instead of getting into that any further, you tell me about rodents.

Martin: I would love to. But first, we have a shoutout!

Jon: Ooo, a shoutout. Does it specify who should read?

Martin: Let me check. It...does...not…..

...

Jon: Martin?

[A beat.]

Martin: Right! Sorry, um. This week’s shoutout is from Tim, to Danny. It says, “Danny! My favorite person who shares genetic material with me! I wanted to say thank you for your podcast obsession from 4 months ago, and specifically for telling me about these marrieds. They’ve gotten me through many a dull hour at the publishing house. Also, with this shoutout, I’ve officially gotten ahead on the Superior [Last Name Redacted] Brother scoreboard, so suck it. Love you lots, and looking forward to your visit next month, Tim.”

Jon: Oh.

Jon: Um. That’s very..sweet? I think? Mostly?

Martin: Yeah, I’d say so. Uh. We have to take a quick break because, uh, someone is..at our front door! Be back with you all in, from your side of things, just a moment.

[velvetmel0n]

Insatiable

Summary: The Mandalorian has a run in with some rather odd pollen while hunting for a quarry and you try to fix it

Rating: Explicit

Word count: 4.3k

Warnings: Automatic dub-con due to the pollen, penetrative sex, sex against a wall, Mando finds a loophole to take his helmet off but everything else stays on, the Child is sleeping don’t worry, little bit of cockwarming, soft ending

A/N: Me, posting fic during daylight hours? I’m just as surprised as you are, who am I

@damerondjarin​ @rzrcrst​ @okay-hotshot​ @beskars​ @acomplicatedprofession​ @huliabitch​ @pascalplease​ @darksideofclarke​ @thesefleshfailures @justawriterwithdreams​ @generaldamneron​ @criminal-cookies​ @someplace-darker​ @amarvelousmandalorian​ @roxypeanut​ @leahsafae​ @bunnyart-blog​ @duamuteffe​ @themandjalorian​ @hopelikethesun​ @dindjarindiaries​ @paniclana​ @winters-buck​ @pedropascalito​ @agentpike​ @hiscyarika​ @lesqui​ @mandadoration​ @the-huttslayer​ @poeticandors​ @tintinwrites​ @mserynlarsen​ @hystericalmedicine​ @queenofheavenandhell​ @himbopoes​ @qveenbvtch​ @bookshelvesandteacups​ @yougottakeeponkeepinon​

Something is— something is wrong with the Mandalorian. The fact that he’s returning without the quarry is concerning enough but the way he’s moving, the way he’s hauling himself up the ramp and out of the jungle like he’s hurt is what sends your heart rocketing into your throat. You can’t see any chinks in the beskar even as he steps into the light of the Razor Crest and the rational part of your brain realizes that the lack of any outward signs of injury, that his armor is still in place, should make you feel better. 

Instead what it does is make you swallow, makes you want to reach out and run your hands along the gleaming metal and the thick fabric between the plates, fingers probing for something to fix. “Mando?” You hate how your voice sounds even as it’s leaving your mouth, thin and shaking under its own weight and you feel the anxiety curdle in your gut.

You had just put the Child down for the night and thought it was funny, this odd turn your life had taken in these last months. Going from odd job doer to nurse maid and medic and whatever else a situation may call for. You didn’t realize how attached you’d truly grown to it until now.

The Mandalorian grunts and the sound is ragged at the edges, and you watch with wide eyes as he sits heavily on the cot as if his legs won’t support him any longer and he— he starts tearing at his gloves, at his arm braces. Any other time you’d be fascinated by the skin he’s showing you, normally only glimpsed through blood and bacta spray, but now it only makes your blood run cold.

“Something got under the helmet,” His voice is slurred, the words crashing into one another before they leave the confines of his mouth. He sounds like he drank an entire jug of spotchka by himself and your brain starts to prickle with realization. “Just— I feel so, feel so hot,”

You swallow, careful to keep your distance now when just moments before you had wanted to run to him. “Did you notice any smells? Any...strange tastes in your mouth?” You know enough botany to have dread settling low in your stomach, replacing the anxiety that had been threatening to overtake you. You don’t think this planet houses a lethal strain— uncomfortable, yes. Life altering, perhaps. But not lethal.

The questions make him pause, thank Maker, because this is the most skin he’s ever shown you and already the guilt is gnawing. You know his Creed, piecing it together from the stories you’ve heard about the Mandalorians and from his own mouth, and you are terrified. Terrified that he’ll go for his helmet next, that you won’t be able to stop him in time and then what? What comes after?

“It smelled...sweet, but, but more than that—” He doesn’t know how to explain how it smelled sweet and spiced and soft. As soft as he knows your hands are when you patch him up somewhere he can’t reach, as soft as he imagines other places are. He shakes his head hard to dislodge that thought but it’s already taken hold and now he can’t stop. 

He’s having trouble remembering why it’s a bad idea to reach out for you, drag you into his lap and fill his hands and his mouth with you, gorge himself on sensation until he’s sick with it. He feels like he’s burning up, boiling from the inside out and his mouth feels like it’s filled with cotton but it’s watering for you.

His mouth. That’s right, you asked him if he tasted anything. He did— some strange, flavored heat having curled into his mouth and he can’t describe the taste, just knows that it was good and he won’t be opposed to tasting it again. 

“I don’t know, something— something good,” The edges of his voice are fuzzed out by the vocoder but the rasp isn’t smoothed and his words skitter down your spine to settle low in your belly. You had spent months perfecting how you deal with the Mandalorian; friendly, compassionate, maybe a little teasing, but most of all understanding of his Creed and the Way and that meant ignoring the affection that had started to fester not long after you’d met. Ignoring the way your mind wandered at night or when you were alone, and it was all going to come crashing down because he’d had a run in with fucking adamari pollen.

If the circumstances weren’t so dire you think you’d laugh because this is ridiculous.

You swallow and raise your hands like you’re trying to placate something feral, show it that you mean it no harm. “We need to stay away from each other for the next few hours, alright?” You hate the way your voice sounds, thin and shaking underneath its own weight and you aren’t sure what you’re more scared of— him forgetting himself or you letting him. 

He’s breathing harshly but he only tilts his helmet at you, not realizing what you’re trying to say so you try again, tongue flicking over your suddenly dry lips. “You’ve heard of adamari, right?”

That causes him to still right down to his labored breathing and you rush to reassure him the only way you know how. “This one isn’t lethal we just— you just have to ride it out,” Maker, did he bring any in with him? You can feel yourself warming, goosebumps rising on your flesh the longer he looks at you from behind that dark visor but that could just be the Mandalorian himself. It wouldn’t be the first time, not even slightly, but it most certainly is the worst time.

“It’s going to get worse, isn’t it?” The words rumble through the vocoder and you can only nod, seeing the way his hands fist atop his thighs and you swallow thickly. You know you can’t stop him, you know you won’t want to stop him once he puts his hands on you and that’s why one of you has to leave.

“Look, it’s probably going to last the rest of the night. At least,” You tack the words on as an afterthought, figuring you should warn him before he’s too far gone, remembering how depending on the strain and the dosage the effects can last anywhere  between a few hours to a couple days.

You watch as the Mandalorian flexes his hands before he straps his braces back on, fitting his hands back into his gloves slowly as if the movements of covering himself back up are paining him now in some ironic twist of fate. “I’ll go.” The words are simple, brooking no arguments. Maybe they would have inspired more confidence if they hadn’t sounded like they were pushed through gritted teeth.

He hauls himself to standing, a mass of gleaming beskar and you hold your breath as he walks past you, not missing the way he pauses, the way his helmet cants towards you. “Take care of the kid for me,” It’s a forgone conclusion at this point but you understand his need to say it still and you nod, murmuring a simple ‘of course’ into the still air. He doesn’t resume walking right away, instead watching you for long, drawn out moments that make you feel like an ash-rabbit caught in a snare before he stumbles down the ramp, shaking his head.

You’re trembling as you shut the ship back up, not able to tell if your sigh is one of relief or disappointment as he keeps walking into the jungle.

Should you— should you activate the ground security protocols? You probably should in case something other than the Mandalorian tries to get in, but it almost feels like a betrayal as you do. You aren’t afraid of him, not really, and you don’t want him to think that you are. What you’re afraid of is you inadvertently causing his life to unravel because you can’t keep your eyes closed. You’re afraid that it’s the pollen to blame for this, that no part of him actually wants you. 

You try to distract yourself by checking on the Child, sleeping peacefully in his crib and you hope he remains that way for the rest of the night. You press a button on the machine and the canopy slides back into place, blocking out all the lights and noises of the Crest and you almost wish you could join him. 

You wonder if the famed Mandalorian discipline will be enough to keep away during the long hours of the night, that it will somehow overcome the effects of the drugging plant. Maybe he’ll get far enough away before it really slams into him.

You spend hours like this, unable to keep yourself from pacing around the Crest and jumping at every little noise, from the ship settling to the sounds of the jungle outside, and all the while wondering. Wondering how he’s faring, if it’s gotten worse yet. If he’s in pain and if it would have been a better idea to let him stay and help him. He might not have reached for his helmet like you’re so afraid of.

It’s the middle of the night and your nerves have started to dull, sleep beginning to pull on the edges of your brain. Nothing has activated the ground security protocols and you’ve found the rhythm in the noise of the nightbugs and the creatures and the groans of the Razor Crest. The Child hasn’t woken despite your pacing and nervous energy thrumming out, and all is well. 

And then the lights go out.

Adrenaline surges through your body and your heart kicks into a relentless pace and you almost feel like you’re floating with the sudden onset of energy as you spring from your place on the floor. No alarms are blaring. There are no sounds you don’t already recognize and there is nothing banging on the hull of the ship, demanding to be let inside. 

The Mandalorian has returned. The Mandalorian has returned and you can’t see a thing.

Arousal and anxiety clash in your gut, colliding until you’re shaking and you don’t know which is which. The dark serves as a loophole, but how strong is it? The urge to run wells up within you so strongly that you almost gasp, feeling your way through the dark as you try to figure out a place to hide.

What if he regrets it, afterwards? Thinks it’s shameful and can’t bear to be around you anymore? Even worse, what if it’s never spoken of again and you have to live with the knowledge of what he feels like, his skin against your own and buried inside of you and you won’t be able to do anything about it.

Your blood is rushing in your ears as you creep through the gloom, your mind racing. There are only so many places to hide in the Razor Crest and your first instinct is to hurl yourself into the storage closet he calls a bunk and seal yourself up in it but you know that would be asking for trouble. You think if you can make it to the ladder you might have a shot of scrambling up, sealing the hatch before the Mandalorian reaches you.

You’re pointedly ignoring the fact that he probably has some sort of nightvision equipped in his helmet and can obviously see better than you if he’s plunging the Crest into absolute darkness on a whim.

You don’t even think you breath as you move, barely picking your feet off the floor and somehow forcing yourself to go slow, to take your time so you don’t run headfirst into a wall. The goosebumps are back and the hair on the back of your neck is standing on end and you feel so thoroughly watched that you think you can feel his eyes on your like a caress. 

You don’t know how far you make it before you feel a heavy hand on the center of your back, pushing you up against the wall and then the Mandalorian is pressing himself against you, trapping you between two layers of solid metal and you almost keen from the sensation of it.

“M’sorry, I— I tried, so hard, I’m sorry,” He slurs into your ear and all the breath you’ve been holding leaves your lungs in a gust because you’re not hearing the blurry, filtered voice through the vocoder anymore and you can feel his lips on your neck, mouthing at the delicate skin desperately. He’s taken his gloves off too and his hands are everywhere. 

They slip beneath your tunic without warning and his skin is fever hot and rough, and you can’t stop yourself from shaking if you try when he grasps your breasts, cupping their fullness and squeezing, forcing a whine from your throat. He keeps mumbling apologies against your neck, soothing bites with his tongue and gasping for breath because there’s just so much of you he’s never touched, never felt like this and you’re so soft and warm and he’s losing his mind.

“S’okay, really,” You do your best to reassure him but you think the pollen is rubbing off you, it has to be because it’s like once he got you in his arms all that anxiety and fear that was festering and curdling in your stomach turned to pure heat in a single instant and you can feel the wetness already slicking the insides of your thighs. 

His chin hooks over your shoulder and you think he’s trying to watch himself play with you— you have no idea if he can even see but the idea that he’s trying cranks you higher. Your other senses have heightened to compensate for the lack of vision and maybe that’s the reason why you almost cry when his fingers clasp around your nipples. He pinches and rolls the puckering flesh, and you’re unable to stop the sob of his name that leaves your mouth. “M-Mando,”

The sound of that word on your lips, little more than a gasping moan, is what breaks him the rest of the way. The words come pouring out of his mouth then and fill your head up until the sound of them and his touch are the only things that exist for you. 

“Wanted this for s-so long and you— you’re—” You’re letting me, the thought finishes unspoken because he can’t believe it. You’re arching your spine and reaching behind you, clawing at any part of him you can reach and he loves it. He loves the way you taste and the sounds that are pouring from your lips and he’s never been this hard in his life.

His hands finally come unglued from your breasts and rasp down your side, his rough palms catching on your skin and the contrast has you both shaking. The Mandalorian doesn’t waste time, isn’t capable of it as he shoves his hand underneath the waistband of your pants and your underwear and— and he fucking chokes.

You’re so warm and wet that for a moment all he can do is groan, forehead dropping to your shoulder and his big body shuddering against your own. He drags a finger through your slit, in awe of just how wet you are for him as you rock in his palm. He can’t get over the fact that you’re almost sobbing for him now as he rubs the calloused pads of his fingers sloppily over your clit and he can feel your thighs quiver. 

“Im-imagined this,” He can’t stop himself from talking, needing to get the words out, to let you know that it isn’t pollen that’s caused all this. It only sped up the timeline, pushing him off the cliff he’s spent the past months edging towards. “Didn’t know yo-you’d be this— this warm,” His voice cracks on the last word and he groans raggedly into your ear because at that exact moment he’s slicking two of his fingers into your weeping cunt and some part of him thinks this is a hallucination. This has to be a hallucination because there’s no way you’re this hot, there’s no way you’re drenching his hand and moaning for him.

He tells you as much, rasping right into your ear how tight you are, how good you’re taking his fingers. How he’s been dying for this.

You try to brace yourself against the wall as your hips bear down on his thick fingers, able to feel the dips and ridges  of his knuckles while your free hand clutches at the arm he has wound around your waist to keep you crushed against him. Tears collect in the corners of your eyes and you already feel so full but you’re greedy, and maybe the pollen has rubbed off on you after all because as amazing as his fingers are spearing up into you, you want his cock more.

You try to tell him but when you open your mouth to do so the only thing that comes out is a whimper because the Mandalorian is pressing the heel of his hand hard into your pubic bone while his fingers work, grinding your clit against his hand. You can feel the bridge of his nose pressing into the line of your jaw, his breath huffing over your skin and it’s all too much.

You feel yourself clamp down on his fingers and your mouth hangs open and the only thing you can hear is the Mandalorian’s moan in your ear. He presses you harder into the wall and his hand stills, keeping the pressure on your clit and just curling his fingers within you. You don’t notice how your nails are digging into his wrist and the hand you have on the wall is shaking as it reaches back, blindly seeking the Mandalorian to pull him closer as your hips stutter and grind into his palm.

You don’t realize you’ve started begging him until the buzzing clears from your head. “Please, p-please, Man-Mando, just— I need your cock,” You sound as wrecked as you feel and the Mandalorian grunts somewhere behind you, ripping at his belt before the words are fully out of your mouth. You want to help him but your hands are shaking too much and you’re still trying to remember how to breathe properly when you feel a blunt pressure against your slippery folds.

Your head falls back onto his shoulder and you’re rocking impatiently on just his tip, whining at the feel of his hands now gripping your hips to try and hold you still. You still haven’t gotten used to the feel of his bare hands on you and it’s like each brush of them, every squeeze and and rub making you feel almost delirious. They’re hot against you, fingers digging in around the bone and somewhere in a hazy part of your mind you know you’ll have marks later, a roadmap of where and how he touched you  and you can’t wait to trace your fingertips over them in the daylight.

Any control he’s managed to cling to is gone and he’s helpless not to buck his hips, filling you up in one decisive thrust that sends you lurching into the wall. You cry out from the sensation of his cock splitting you open, the stretch pinching just enough for the pain to put the pleasure into focus, sharpening it to a razor’s edge. 

This is what he’s been hiding underneath all that beskar? The thought slides across your mind like a tendril of smoke, half formed and nearly transparent before it blinks out of existence as fast as it came into being because the Mandalorian is rutting over you, armor biting into the backs of your thighs as he tries to press as close as physically possible each time he bottoms out within you.

He’s barely pulling out, as if he can’t stand the thought of separating from you even just the few inches he needs for leverage, is something unbearable and it is glorious.  The tears have spilled from your eyes and his hands are clutching you, arms banding around your front to keep you molded to his chest so tightly that your breathing is restricted from the pressure across your chest but you can’t manage to care.

You aren’t being granted any sort of reprieve from how deliciously full you are and you think you can feel every vein and ridge of his cock as it drags inside you, scraping heavily against that one specific spot that’s causing you to see stars in the darkness, pinpricks of light igniting behind your eyelids. His name is falling pathetically from your lips, your high pitched and needy and he just keeps going. His mouth at your ear, slurring how you feel around him, how well you’re taking him and how he never wants to leave your heat. 

You use his voice, so much clearer without the vocoder, as a homing beacon and reach a trembling hand over your shoulder, sifting your fingers through the sweaty curls you find at the nape of his neck. He shudders and snarls when you give them an experimental tug and you feel it right down to your toes— so you do it again.

He digs his hips into yours in a rhythm that borders on brutal and you’re only able to last for so long because the arm around your stomach drops low and he’s pressing his fingers into your clit again, quick and desperate.  And then, almost before you realize what’s happening, your vision is whiting out and your pussy is clamping down around his cock, your flesh pulsing around him as you hang, suspended time time and unable to feel anything but the pleasure as it rockets up your spine and covers your skin like syrup, thick and sticky-sweet.  Your mouth is hanging open but no sound comes out at first and— and then you’re mewling some pitiful parody of his name because he’s fucking you through the first orgasm and on into the second if he doesn’t stop.

Which he doesn’t. You’re sensitive and shaking and he isn’t stopping, driving into you again and again before he stills, cock buried as deep as he could manage and he moans. The sound is broken against your shoulder, blunt teeth indenting your skin and you’re sure you’ve never heard anything better.  Liquid heat fills you, makes you arch and writhe and feel almost like a lothcat in heat. 

The Mandalorian doesn’t move away from you like you had been so afraid of just hours before, doesn’t rush to cover himself or start offering apologies. Instead you feel him panting against your upper back and he slackens his bite, laving at the marks he left with his tongue. He squeezes you tighter and nuzzles his face into the side of your neck, rumbling a single word that has you quivering all over again— 

“More.”

Hours later you’re sprawled atop the Mandalorian, your cheek resting against the cool metal of his cuirass and his cock still buried in you. You have no idea how long you’ve been laying like that, his hand drifting across your back, tracing nonsense patterns along your spine with his bare fingers. He put his helmet back on sometime during the night and as much as you missed the access to his mouth, the sound of his unfiltered voice, you understood.

You’re drifting somewhere between being awake and unconsciousness, only aware of the feel of his hands, the hard lines of beskar pressing into your skin, and how full you feel, reminded of that in particular every time you so much as twitch.

You hum in sleepy acknowledgement when he calls your name, only raising your head when he squeezes your shoulder and gives it a little shake. You rest your chin on your hand and fix his visor with what you hope isn’t a look of lazy contempt, though whatever your expression may have been it melts at the first touch of his hand on your cheek and you can’t resist the urge to nuzzle into his warm palm.  The Mandalorian is quiet for so long that your eyes are starting to drift shut when he begins to speak, soft and slow. “This, it—  it started because of the pollen,” He lets the words hang in the air and you have the sense that he chose the words carefully. He doesn’t take his hand from you, letting you lean the weight of your head into his palm, thumb stroking the delicate skin underneath your eye so slowly you don’t know if he realizes what he’s doing.

You don’t answer him right away, instead you lift yourself up just enough for you to be able to reach his helmet, doing your best to ignore the way his cock drags along your sensitive walls and you can feel him tense right through the beskar. You don’t reach for it. You don’t even move your hands from where they’re braced against his chest. Instead you move slowly and carefully, leaning forward to press your lips to the visor in a soft kiss before you settle back onto his chest.

You hear his sigh through the vocoder, the tension seeping out from underneath you and you feel your lips pulling into a smile as you close your eyes. You’re higher up than you were before, just enough for your cheek to press into the softer spot between his cuirass and his pauldron and you want to hum with contentment. You know that you have to talk about this sooner or later, but for now you only want to bask in the afterglow, in the languid soreness that’s settling into your muscles.

[illegal-spiegel]

smoky ink

Pairing: Katsuki Bakugou x gn!reader Genre: fluff, crack?, vague smut Warnings: drunken tattoos w Denki, groping Summary: Playing truth or dare with Denki while you were drunk ends up being a huge mistake when you get a tattoo of something from one of your favorite heroes on your ass.  Word Count: 4k words A/N: Happy birthday, boom boom boy!!🥳❤️

1k Followers Event prompt #34 “Do I have to pull down my pants to show you?”

In hindsight, you should’ve known better than to play truth or dare with Denki while you were both drunk. Honestly, it’s your fault for giving in and playing the dumb game with him, again, while you’re drunk. 

“Truth or dare?” he asks, a sly smirk on his face. You’ve been picking truth this whole time, but you can only do truths five times before you’re out of truths. 

Deciding to just go ahead and get it over with, you sigh and give him a bored look as you say in the blandest voice possible, “Dare.”

He pretends to think about it as if he didn’t already know what he was going to dare you to do since he first asked you to play. “Tell Bakugou that you like him or get a tattoo with me. A tattoo of my choosing,” he offers, the smirk getting worse the more he speaks. 

You should’ve known. You honestly would’ve texted him, told him, and then lied, and said Denki did it, but you didn’t like the idea of him even wondering if you actually liked him, that there was a possibility of it. What if he reacted badly before you could even explain what had happened? 

Yeah, no thanks. 

“Let’s go get a tattoo then,” you state boldly as you stand up off your bed, already slipping on your shoes, albeit very slowly thanks to the alcohol in your system. He pouts at you as he lets out a long groan, his body flopping back onto your bed. 

“You’re so boring!” he whines, slowly bringing himself up to glare at you. 

“Oh, so should I dare you to tell a certain someone that you like them?” you challenge, a smirk of your own coming to your face. His face goes pink at your words, his head shaking left and right rapidly after a moment. 

“No,” he mumbles, getting off your bed and putting on his own shoes. Once you two are ready to go, you open up your door and step out into the hallway. Just as you’re shutting your door behind you both, Bakugou emerges from the door down the hall that leads to the stairwell. You make eye contact with him before his eyes shift to Denki who is standing behind you. 

Just as your door clicks shut, Denki wraps his arm around your shoulders and starts leading you down the hall towards him. Bakugou doesn’t wait a moment longer before walking down the opposite hall towards his bedroom. You let out a soft sigh as you reach the top of the stairs, slowly starting to climb down them. 

“Don’t look so down! Midoriya probably just pissed him off again or something,” he reassures, bumping his shoulder into yours. You force a smile to your face and direct it at him, bumping him back. 

“Race ya!” you shout before taking off down the steps, almost tripping several times. 

“Hey! That’s cheating!” Denki roars, swiftly following after you. You laugh loudly as you take two steps at a time, trying to beat him to the bottom. You both jump at the end, landing on the floor almost at the same time. 

You’re not sure who won though. 

“Ha! I won!” Denki boasts loudly, throwing his arms into the air. This makes you scoff, your hands finding their way to your hips while you try to regain some of the air you lost into your lungs. 

“As if! I clearly won that!” you claim, unsure if you’re even right or not. You both go back and forth the entire way out of the building, only waving to people you pass as a greeting since you’re so involved in your argument. 

Once you’re outside, you wrap your arm around Denki’s neck and tug him down to give him a noogie. He shouts and tries to pull away, but you keep a strong hold on him. “I yield! I yield!” he shouts, finally making you let him go with a satisfied grin on your face. 

“That’s what I thought.”

You two walk to the closest tattoo and piercing parlor, both of you bubbling with nerves and excitement. As you walk in, you take in the place with innocent, round eyes. 

“Alright! I’ll pick out your tattoo and you can pick out mine!” Denki informs before taking off to the opposite end of the shop. You chuckle softly as you watch him go, starting to walk around to look for available tattoos.

You end up choosing a Pikachu one for him, feeling satisfied with your choice. You just hope he is serious about this and doesn’t choose something completely ridiculous. 

Once you both have your tattoos, you each hide the tattoo you picked out from the other as you meet back in the middle. “I found the perfect one,” you say confidently. He chuckles as he secretly looks down at his phone. 

“Oh, I think mine is much better,” he chirps. You squint your eyes at him in suspicion but ultimately let it go, walking over to the artist that will be tattooing you both. 

“You’re first,” you tell him, wanting to make sure that he’s going to actually go through with this instead of just making you get one on your own. After arguing back and forth a couple of minutes, he eventually gives in. 

“Fine, coward,” he jabs, slowly taking his seat. You decide to let him pick where he wants it, knowing that if you don’t, he’ll choose a terrible spot for you in return. He ends up getting it on his chest, deciding to put it right on his right pec. 

“No peeking,” you declare as you show the artist what he’s getting. Denki huffs as he peels his shirt off, laying back in the chair and tilting his head back to make sure he doesn’t peek. 

To your surprise, Denki doesn’t nearly complain as much as you thought he would. Sure, he grunts and flinches every once in a while but all in all, he just quietly sits there, quietly looking up at the ceiling as the mechanical sound of the needle thrumming fills the room. Well, that is until the tattoo is completed. “Jesus! That hurt more than a buttcheek on a stick!” he exhales dramatically, quoting a video that he saw forever and a half ago. 

“Alright, no peeking until mine is done,” you remind, laughing lightly at his words while you take your seat. Denki playfully salutes you before pulling out his phone to show the artist what you’re getting as they clean up the equipment, and you can’t help the nerves that start spiking out of nowhere. 

“Where do you want it?” 

“Um, how big is it?” you tentatively ask, hoping Denki wouldn’t do something extreme. The artist looks over to Denki, silently asking him how big he wanted the piece to be. Denki furrowed his eyebrows as he thought over it for a moment, before lifting his hand and making a circle with his thumb and index finger. 

“About this big, I’d say,” he ultimately says. The circle is about as big around as the diameter of his wrist. You let out an audible sigh as you try to figure out what the tattoo he planned for you was going to be. You wanted to have a little more faith in your friend, you really did, but it was hard when that friend was a total jokester like Denki.

“Can I just get it on my ass?” you ask softly, letting out an awkward laugh to mask just how nervous you truly felt, but it doesn’t quite give the effect you hoped it would. The artist simply nods as Denki starts cackling in response. 

“Seriously, (Y/n)? Have some faith in me!” he teases between chuckles, knowing you only wanted it there to hide it. You glare over at him, slowly taking off your pants before folding them up and placing them off to the side to be out of the way. You turn to lay on your stomach, trying to ignore how warm your cheeks were getting out of the embarrassment of the situation.

“Damn, (Y/n)! What you doin’ out here with all that ass?” Denki jokes, making your blush worsen as you quickly whip your head around to shoot him a hard stare.

“Stop being such a pig and come hold my hand!” you hiss, the look you’re give him turning to one of pure ice when he just laughs and rounds the table to come sit in front of you. He finally takes your hand with a smirk, kissing the back of it. 

You scoff, rolling your eyes at him as you try to mentally prepare yourself for the pain that you were about to endure. When the needle first makes contact with your skin, you jump a bit and tighten your grip on Denki’s hand. You fight villains almost every day of your life and have almost died on numerous occasions, and yet, this seemed to hurt worse in comparison. Though, this definitely helps you sober up somewhat. After a while, you start to get used to the pain of the needle making passes over your skin and start to feel your muscles relax a bit, Denki further helping you relax as he distracts you by talking away. 

Once your tattoo is finally done, you slowly stand up and waddle over to the mirror with Denki. “On three. One, two, three!” You count down before turning to look over your shoulder at the tattoo. 

“Woah! It looks so good! Thanks, (Y/n)!” Denki cheers. You can’t bring your eyes away from your left ass cheek though, your mouth not cooperating with your brain. 

Sitting there, on your skin forever, might you add, is a tattoo of Bakugou’s green gauntlets surrounded by tiny explosions and smoke. You’re not sure how to react at first but it comes to you quickly. 

“I’m going to kill you!” you shout, noticing that he is already running away. You chase after him, without pants, by the way, for a moment before the tattoo artist asks you both to calm down. You clench your jaw together while walking back over to the artist, letting them properly wrap up both your and Denki’s tattoos. The entire time you were glaring at Denki though, swearing to yourself that you’ll really kill him this time. 

“You must be a big fan of Dynamight’s,” the artist comments as he finishes wrapping up your tattoo, your face heating further at his comment while Denki does his best to hide his laughter, and failing miserably.

Once you both pay and are good to go, Denki rushes out of the shop with you trailing not too far behind as you start to chase after him again, both of you having a lot of pent-up energy from sitting down for so long. Once you finally catch up to him, you grab him by the collar of his shirt so he can’t escape while you prepare yourself to clobber him. But before you can get a good swing in, he lifts his hands up in surrender, offering to take you out for food in exchange for not hurting his precious face. You shove him with a scoff, his hand coming up to rub the spot where you grabbed his collar from. 

“Fine. You’re paying for everything though.” 

Humming contently as you lead the way to find a good place to eat nearby.

After getting a fill of some food, the both of you start walking back to the dorms, before realizing that it’s been long enough for you to take off the plastic wrap covering your tattoo. You’ll ignore it for now though, deciding that you’ll do it once you get back into your room. You’ll probably cover it up again after getting a picture of it just to make sure it doesn’t get infected though.

“I can’t wait for Bakubro to see your tattoo. He’ll finally know how much of a fan you are,” Denki teases you as you two near the dorms. Your face warms as you raise your hand to hit him with a shout, making him yelp and take off again. 

“Come back here, you gremlin!”

You chase him all the way back, cursing and shouting at him the entire time as you try to catch him. You’re panting for air by the time you come inside, trying to ignore the stares everyone is giving you. Denki is breathless from running but somehow still manages to laugh at your angry face. He crashes down into a seat beside Kirishima and leans against him for support. You glare daggers at him while you stomp on over, ready to throw hands with him. 

“What’s going on with you two?” Jiro asks with a raised brow, looking between you and the electric blonde.  

“Nothing!” You answer quickly, your face flaming with heat. No one can find out about your new tattoo. No one. 

“Awe come on, don’t be shy, (Y/n)!” Denki teases, wiping tears of joy away from his eyes. 

“Shut it, Denki!” you shout back, hitting his shoulder with as much force as you can muster. 

“Ow! Hey! Quit it!” he shouts before flicking your forehead. 

“No, you quit it!” you retort, flicking him right back. 

You two go back and forth until Bakugou, who you failed to notice until now, directs a glare at you both with a shout.

“Will the two of you extras shut up? Why are you even arguing in the first place?” he roars, making you both fall quiet. You, obviously, didn’t plan on answering that but you should’ve known that Denki would. 

“(Y/n) got a tattoo!” Denki screeches out before you can stop him, gathering everyone’s attention. 

“Did not! He did!” You shout right back, hoping no one can tell how flustered you are. 

“What? No way! You got a tattoo? Let me see it!” Mina gasps before clambering up to tug at your shirt collar and sleeves to try and find where it’s at. 

“I can’t!” 

“Yes, you can!” 

“I can’t, Mina!”

“Why not?” she whines, tugging on your shirt like a toddler now. You go quiet at that, trying to think of a good lie to tell her. 

“Because she got it on her ass!” Denki declares, making you whip around to glare at him. 

“Why you—” you start as you jump for him, his eyes widening as he quickly hops up to run away again. You can’t even chase after him either thanks to Mina grabbing your arm and dragging you towards your room with a few of the others you’re close with in tow. 

“I want to see it right now!” she shouts, almost making you trip from how fast she’s walking. Once in the safety of your room, you tug your pants down enough to show them your new tattoo. 

“Oh my god…”

“(Y/n)!”

“I can’t believe it!”

“I know. It’s terrib—” you start to say before someone else cuts you off.

“It’s so good!” 

“Yeah, it looks great!”

“What?” you ask in shock, feeling your jaw drop in surprise. Are they serious right now? It’s embarrassing! 

“It looks so good! I want to get one now!”

“Where did you go?” You can’t even take any of them seriously right now. 

“Guys, it’s a disaster!” Mina rolls her eyes at you, moving to sit on your bed as she looks at your tattoo again. 

“It is not. Stop being so dramatic.”

“I’m not! What if Bakugou finds out? He might kill me!” 

“If, (Y/n), if he finds out,” she replies with a smirk, leaning back on her hands. You stare at her for a long moment before slowly nodding your head back at her, your shoulders starting to relax. 

“Right, yeah, if he finds out,” you reply with a sigh, pulling your pants back up and laying down onto your bed with a sigh. 

What you all forgot about was a crucial detail though. That detail is a loudmouth blond who is one for drama and pranks. 

You don’t even realize you fell asleep until you hear swift knocking at your door. You groggily sit up and rub at your eyes, finding everyone is already gone. You must’ve fallen asleep sometime after laying down and they let themselves out. 

You bring yourself out of your short daze when the knocking swiftly returns much louder this time. “Yeah, I heard you the first time!” you quip as you climb out of bed, mad that you’ve been woken up from such a nice sleep. 

When you open the door, Bakugou is the last one you would’ve thought to be on the other side. You silently gape at him for a second, having trouble finding what to say. A simple ‘hello’ would’ve been fine, but you couldn’t even muster that up. 

Your eyes widen further when he pushes past you into your room, your eyes finally blinking. “Sure, come on in,” you mumble sarcastically and close the door, turning to face him only to find him already staring at you. 

“Is it true?” he asks vaguely, your half-asleep brain still trying to fully wake up and process what’s going on. 

“What?” is all you can find to say in response. 

“Is it true you got a tattoo of me?” he further asks, his eyes staring deeply into yours to gouge your reaction. All at once, you become a blushing and stuttering mess. 

“What? No! Of course not! Who gave you that crazy idea?” you sputter, pressing yourself back against the door. 

“Denki did. He told me that you two went to go get them earlier,” Bakugou further explains, taking a step closer to you. The room suddenly feels too warm for your liking, the air becoming dry in your lungs. 

“Well, Denki is a liar…” you mumble, looking away from him. You make a mental note to literally kill Denki later. 

“Show me.”

“What?” you ask, your eyes snapping back to his face to find that he is quite serious. 

“Show me the tattoo,” he demands, his voice becoming a tad bit softer than before. You gulp at his commanding voice, starting to shake your head and press yourself further into the door. 

“No.”

“Why not?” he asks, his brows knitting together. Why does he seem surprised?

“Because I can’t,” you explain, watching his brows now furrow downward. 

“Yes, you can.”

“No, Bakugou, I can’t. Just let it go,” you reply with a sigh, looking away from his eyes once more to look down at his shoes. 

“No, I’m not letting it go. It’s of me anyway, isn’t it? You’re required to show me,” he pushes, taking another step towards you and getting into your personal bubble. 

You place your hands onto your hips with a huff and shift your gaze to his, glaring up at him. “Do I have to pull down my pants to show you to get you to shut up?” you hiss, feeling your face become as hot as an inferno. 

He crosses his arms over his chest and glares down at you. “I guess you have to,” he sasses, making you angrily frown at him. 

“Fine!” you snap before turning around and tugging your pants just far enough to reveal your tattoo. You don’t hear him say anything or even gasp, your heartbeat in your ears the only sound that you can hear. You wearily look over your shoulder to look at him, your breath catching in your throat when you see the look on his face.

His eyes have drooped and become half-lidded as he stares down at it, his bottom lip caught between his teeth. You don’t dare speak, afraid that if he turns that look onto you, you won’t be able to control yourself. 

You don’t have to speak though since he can feel your heavy gaze on him. When his eyes shift up to meet yours, you wonder if he actually stopped breathing or if your mind is playing tricks on you. His eyes go back down though and a gasp rips out of you when his warm fingers gently graze over the tattoo. 

“Why?” he suddenly asks, your frazzled mind barely catching what he said. Your brain is deciding to focus more on how his fingers don’t seem to be leaving your ass anytime soon. 

“Why what?” you stutter out, followed by a gulp when his other hand moves to gently clasp your hip. 

“Why do you have a tattoo of me on your ass?” he whispers into your ear, his body heat radiating through you to your very core. You shiver and turn your head forward again, pressing your forehead to the wall to help ground yourself. 

“Denki picked it out,” you explain, sucking your lip into your mouth. He grunts at your answer and pulls away from you, making you turn around to face him in search of his touch again. 

“Denki? That’s it? No other reason?” he asks, his eyes not meeting yours. Your brows knit together at his question, your mind racing at what he could have possibly wanted to hear. It couldn’t be-

“Well, he’s technically not the only reason,” you mumble, distracting yourself by looking off to the side where a picture of the gang rests on your bedside table. You remember that day like it was yesterday. You all had decided to go to the beach and the picture was taken right as the sun hit the water on the horizon. You got a stranger to take the photo for you and Denki had shoved you and Bakugou together. By looking at the picture, you can just remember how warm your face had gotten being pressed against his side like that. It only got hotter when he had wrapped his arm around your shoulder. 

“So what’s the other reason then?” he asks, stepping to the side to block your vision from whatever you were staring at. 

“Why do you think?” you quip. 

“I’m guessing it’s because you have a fat crush on Dynamight,” he teases, his usual smirk finding its way onto his lips. 

“Maybe I do, what about it?” you sass, giving him your own smirk, even though you’re secretly dying on the inside from embarrassment.

“Well, it’s a good thing he likes you back, seeing as how you got a tattoo of him on your ass,” he bluntly replies, forcing his way into your personal space once more, but this time he presses his front against yours. 

You both stare into the other’s eyes, trying to decipher what the other’s next move is going to be. Almost at the same time, you both surge forward and smash your mouths together. The kiss unlike anything you’ve ever experienced before, a new fire igniting in both of you. It’s quite sloppy, your teeth gnashing together and angrily biting the other’s bottom lip. 

His rough hands squeeze your hips as he pulls you closer to his body, grinding himself into you. One hand wanders and immediately heads for the tattoo that you hid from him after he first touched it. He aggressively kneads the cheek without the tattoo, tracing over the image under your jeans with his other hand. 

“Mind if I get a better look at it?” he breathlessly inquires, his hooded eyes meeting yours. Instead of verbally responding, you connect your lips together once more, urging his hands to the front of your jeans to tug them back down your legs again. He does so with ease, only pulling away from your hips to peel them down your legs. He cups you through your underwear, giving a low chuckle when you let out a whimper.

“More,” you beg, impatiently tugging your underwear down just enough for him to see how ready you are for him. He lets out a satisfied hum and brings his hands down to your bare ass to give each cheek a firm squeeze, being mindful of the tattoo that’s towards the top. A loud whine escapes you before you can trap it, his lips finding their way to your neck. 

“Why don’t you lie down on the bed on your hands and knees to give me a better view of that tattoo?” he mumbles against your skin, his ears being met by a complying moan in response.

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MASTERLISTS

More with Bakugou

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[neovisioned]

♡ꜜ profane﹫jaehyun jung

profane - ashe vernon

pairing : jaehyun x reader (f)

genre : smut with little plot, fallen angel!jaehyun, best friends to lovers. 

warnings : actual filth, dry humping, passionate eating out, penetration (unprotected, be safe), body worship, slight begging and corruption, overstimulation, jaehyun’s wings are sensitive, creampie. 

word count : 3k exactly.

synopsis : fallen angel Jaehyun confesses to the one who saved him the night he fell from heaven five years ago, he shows you exactly how much he meant his words when he called you holy or : “ God, if you’re out there, if you’re listening, he fucks like a seraphim,”

“The first time he calls you holy, you laugh it back so hard your sides hurt.”

Jaehyun never even tried to hide his awe for your beauty, since the day of his fall. From the night you found him in the middle of the street, right after a rainy summer day, he never did. You were in your last year of high school, a teenager finding a bloodied, half clothed man on the hard concrete. You thought you were hallucinating, victim of one big, elaborated prank. You remember observing him for minutes, until he turned his scared face towards the noise of your boots cracking a dead branch. Oh, his face. Even in pain, even crying from the damnation he just faced, he looked ethereal. Correction, he was ethereal. A fallen angel, lost in this cruel, cruel world. Bloodied wings, sculpted body draped with a white sheet, trembling chestnut eyes. Big, white wings wrapped around himself in an attempt to protect his remaining dignity. Your heart dropped when he planted his eyes in yours. Jaehyun wondered if you were an angel of death here to finish the job, he never knew they were this pretty. Jaehyun remembers asking himself if he felt right to another kind of heaven he didn’t know about when you walked carefully towards him, pale moonlight enlightening your worried features. The first human face he’d see and yet, he'd bet you were crafted in his late home.

“You’re divine.”, was the first thing the fallen angel had told you. Ah, how he managed to get you even more intrigued with three words. You recall him not backing away from you when you kneeled in front of the man, offering a hand. He looked the same age, a deer caught in the bright lights of a truck. You’d hate yourself for leaving him here.

The red tint on his soft feathers stay imprinted in your mind, even after five years.

You never thought you’d be one to take an angel under your wing. But here you were, helping the fallen learn about life on the blue planet, one he never thought he’d live on himself. After all, the brunette never even formed the idea before, being dropped out of heaven was never on option for God’s old favorite. Years, and Jaehyun never stopped being dazed by your features. You even wondered where he’d get his compliments, always sounding like an old poet gushing over his best muse. Lovely, charming, delightful, ravishing, gorgeous, heavenly, stunning, artistic, magnificent. The list goes on. You quickly wondered if he wasn’t going too far, if he wasn’t too attached after you saved him, mind twisted by an illusion he created for himself. He saw what you couldn’t see in you. Words you never heard any man call another woman before, they all have the same effect on you. The feeling of heat pooling to your cheeks gets too familiar when you’re with Jaehyun. It’s to a point where his name only manages to burn your skin. However, the day the now almost normal man calls you “holy”, you don’t know how to react. His head rests on your stomach, strong arms wrapped around your body. You remember how frail they looked the night you met him. No matter the time flying by, the people he met, the number throwing themselves at him, Jaehyun never stopped looking at you like you held stars in your irises. Puppy dog eyes for what you then think is just equal, a puppy love.   “You’re holy.”, he had breathed against your skin, a small smile blooming on his face at your reaction. The weight of his head on you makes it heard to laugh and hard to breath properly, your sides hurt as you giggle in an attempt to brush it off. Thankfully, Jaehyun’s used to your off reactions to his words. He might even like it a bit too much. Even, it takes years for you to understand that Jaehyun’s isn’t just victim of a dumb infatuation. He means every word he says, he knows more than anyone else the meaning behind them all. It’s quite ironic. You think Jaehyun’s the one who needs to open his eyes but, when you do, you understand something bigger. Jaehyun isn’t as innocent as you thought he was. The ability to hide his wings and your presence guiding him had him walking on his Earth like any other human being, slowly becoming like every other young man of his age.

“The second time, you moan gospel around his fingers between your teeth. He has always surprised you into surprising yourself.”

The second time he calls you “holy”, your reaction is much, much different from any other. The slight salty taste of his fingertips lingers on your tongue, pink muscle lazily lapping against his skin. The fallen angel has two digits resting there, thumb lovingly stroking the skin of your check. Coating them with saliva, the muscle drags between ever so slowly. Hungry eyes catch every one of your reactions, drinking in the smallest of sighs and broken bat of the eyelashes for memories to cherish. It seems every important turn in your relationship with the fallen angel happens in summer, he even told you about how it was his favorite out of the four seasons. An anniversary of your meeting with the brunette turns confession of shared feelings between an improvised meal. He grew. He grew so much all thanks to you and yet, there he is. Body towering over you, using his power against you, the dynamic shifted long ago. His hips fits perfectly between your thighs, the blue jeans he’s wearing aren’t doing anything to hide his hardening member, longing to be touched. You wonder where he learned all of this, when he learned all of this. His hips roll against your clothed core in the most heavily way, it’s slow and hard, intentions clear. “You’re holy, doll.”, Jaehyun breathes again, watching your cheek heat up, your eyes roll back. You never heard this voice before, it dips lower, stained by years of want. “Crafted by the highest.” You moan around his fingers, teeth grazing over the tender skin. Jaehyun was never afraid to push you out of your comfort zone, there he was doing it again. You never thought you’d let your beloved angel sin with your help.

“Because he’s an angel hiding his halo behind his back and nothing has ever felt so filthy as plucking the wings from his shoulders - undressing his softness one feather at a time.”

Oh, how well he hides his halo. There’s no light in his eyes, no light in his voice when he asks you to undress. You wonder if he still has some powers with how easily you bend to his order, underwear adoring your skin. His jeans follow close behind. He got bigger with years, stronger, confident. One thing he doesn’t get rid of, his wings. He could, he could hide them like he does every day now, but he know how much they affect you. You’ve told him many times, never ran more than a light and careful hands on the majestic wings. Pure, white feathers create the perfect cocoon between your tangled bodies like he wants you to himself and him only. You don’t think he ever lost one single feather, never losing their pristine with time.

His hips never stop rolling against yours, now fully hard cock rubbing against your damp underwear. His grey boxers aren’t doing anything to hide his member anymore, one that makes your mouth water, eyes blow in need. One hand travels from his arm to the soft feather of his wing, bold fingers softly gazing over the small spaces between his plumes.

The surprised moan that tumbles from his lips takes your breath away, such a simple gesture that makes him keen under your touch. “Fuck.”, how can a curse sound so pure ? His finger leave your mouth to grip the pillow right next to your head. “Do that again.”

“God, if you’re out there, if you’re listening, he fucks like a seraphim, and there’s no part of scripture that ever prepared you for his hands. Hand that map a communion in the cradle of your hips.”

“Shit, Jaehyun.” Nothing would have prepared you for the way his hips start moving to a faster pace. He has you moaning a bouquet of curses against his lips, hips bucking up against his. You know Jaehyun learns quickly, you see it when you tell him just how you like it and he obliges happily, hips rolling harder, and harder. The dark spot on his boxers’ a dead giveaway of your arousal building up, and up. His hands start wondering up your body, shamelessly sneaking under your bra. He maps your curves, learns by heart about the holy temple of your envelope. “Feels good ?” Another hand tightly grips your hip, fingers digging at your flesh, sure to leave small bruises there. He pushes your pelvis down against his mattress, until you aren’t able to create friction from your own. The fallen angel brings you to the border in minutes, he builds your orgasm up until you’re breathing against his bruised lips. He makes you jump with him and makes sure he has you all along, he holds you close when you ruin your underwear. Your orgasm blinds you for milliseconds, you probably moan too loudly for your neighbors but, right here and right now, it’s him. Jaehyun might come the very moment his name rolls out of your tongue, the prettiest prayer he ever had the chance to hear and, it was for him, him only.

“Hands that kiss hymns up your sides. He confesses how long he’s looked for a place to worship and, oh,”

“’ve been waiting for so long.”, the brunette confesses against the skin of your stomach. He places soft kisses there, like he wants you to see how much he worships your body. “Thought you’d never let me have a taste.”. There is the slightest bit of amusement in his voice when he kisses along the line of your ruined panties, a single digit teasingly running up and down your lips. He makes you shiver, sigh his name out and say his name in vain. You’d almost beg him to do it already, taste you already.

“Jaehyun, I-.”, you’d almost beg him, and oh.

Pink tongue boldly dips in your core, through the wet fabric. He hums at the slight taste of your arousal, like he cannot believe he’s finally there. His red lips form an -o where he knows your bud of never is, lightly sucking there. Where the fuck did he learn all of this. Oh, the sweet angel will be the death of you if you aren’t his.

“you put him on his knees. When he sinks to the floor and moans like he can’t help himself, you wonder if the other angels feel so sweet.”

Long gone are the years of blindness, years of pushing feelings away out of fear. A hand rests on his shoulder and you push him to his knees, he obliges easily under your touch. Knees to the floor, his knees hit the cold wood of his bedroom. Digits finally wrap around the fabric of your panties and finally. Finally, you reveal yourself to the fallen angel. Transparent fluid stick to your lips and the ruined piece of clothing, Jaehyun moans to himself like he’s been touched by grace.

Glittering eyes look up to you for reassurance and, when he has it, he doesn’t hesitate. Pushing your thighs apart, his eyes stay on your core like the finest of paintings, placing your legs on his strong shoulders. He waited and wanted too long to make the teasing last longer and, much like he did through the piece of fabric, his pink tongue drags up your slit. He collects every drop your give him in the dip of his muscle, he hums at the taste and goes for more. The tip digs between your lips and laps like he’s drinking the rarest of wines, like he’s drinking from the grail itself.

“Taste so fucking good.”, he hums to himself, lips shining with your own arousal. “Can’t get enough.”

You wonder if all angels are so good with their tongues, or maybe it’s the added effect Jaehyun has on you. He brings you to the clouds in what you feel like is seconds.

“He says his prayers between your thighs and you dig your heels into the base of his spine until he blushes the color of your filthy tongue. You will ruin him and he will thank you; he will say please.”

The words he mumbles against your core are foreign to you, your dazed, blurred mind doesn’t quite catch the meaning behind his sounds. However, his deep voice vibrates against your lips. It’s so much, too much. You’re almost too sensitive already from the first orgasm he got out of you. Your body reacts by itself when he lets his muscle explore between your lips a little more, a sigh tumbling from your lips. Your thighs close around his head until your heels dig between his wings, it makes the man moan and break away from your core. Your hand can only anchor itself between his brown locks, slightly tugging at his hair.

He’s breathless, a deep pink dust on his cheeks and chest alongside a thin sheet of sweat. Jaehyun looks so innocent and yet, so filthy, corrupted. When his lips methodically wraps around your button of nerves, you know you’re done for. “Jaehyun, Jae-. ‘m so close, gonna come.”, you warn, words turning incoherent at some point. Ah, Jaehyun loves the way your voice breaks for him, direct result of his actions. It fills his chest with pride and makes his wings bat the slightest bit around him.

“Please.”, he begs, and you have to look down at him to register the word. “Please Y/N, come on my tongue.”, he says again, fingers wrapping around your thighs. How can you say no to such plea ? Jaehyun might be the happiest fallen angel when he feels your thighs shaking around him, tightening around his head as you come for the second time that night. You might black out, the ringing in your ears doesn’t stop you from hearing the brunette’s greedy tongue lapping at your core, small kisses on your thighs. “Thank you.”

“No damnation ever looked as cozy as this, but you fit over his hips like they were made for you. You fit, you fit, you fit. On top of him, you are an ancient god that only he remembers and he offers up his skin. And you take it. Who knew sacrifice was so profane ?”

Fucked out, yet there’s no way you’re going to let Jaehyun like this. Your legs threaten to give out under your body when you sit on the fallen angel’s lap. Your abused core tightens around the head of his length, the slight pain of the stretch adds to the stained moan you let out against Jaehyun’s neck. He fits and he’s no one moaning about how you were made for him. Long gone are the pleas to make you come when he groans and growls about your tight cunt.

You take him, you take him entirely with a whine and fully sit on his thighs. You don’t think you ever felt so full in your entire life, you don’t think you ever felt this way before. His wings wrap around your bodies again, it seems like an old habit. He creates a world for you to rule in, he lets you take control and set the pace.

His moans are for your ears only when you finally start moving up, and down. Up, and down. Jaehyun’s arms wrap tightly around your waist, bringing your body impossibly close to his. His chest crashes against your own, lips bruising yours for the nth time that night. You fit, he won’t let you go. He fits, you grip around him. Jaehyun might just think you look like a goddess at this very moment, skin glowing under the light, wrapped around him, wrapped in him. He wonders if you aren’t just that, a goddess erased from the books, a goddess too powerful and threatening. Jaehyun might just think you’re Lilith. His head rolls back against the headboard of his bed, he unknowingly presents the skin of his pale neck and you take it. You take him, you mark him as yours. Red and purple petals bloom on his chest, marks he'd proudly parade.

“And once you’ve taught him how to hold your throat in one hand and your heart in the other, you will have forgotten every other word, except his name.”

The way his pupils grow wider the moment you bring his hand to your throat is almost comical. You teach him how to use his fingers and press on your neck, cut your breathing just the right way. Just enough to have you desperately clenching around his cock.

“I love you.”, you finally confess to him that night, words he thought he’d never hear at some point. There, the fallen angel has you in the palm of his hand, heartbeat pumping against his fingertips. There, Jaehyun gets his revenge on heaven. When he starts fucking up, sending your body crashing against his own, limp, he might fuck you even harder then. There, in the dead of the night, years after meeting him on the dot, his name is the only thing tumbling from his lips. Oh, what a pleasure to bring a goddess to this state, fucked out and babbling, shamelessly letting herself being used and filled. The fallen angel never thought he’d feed off someone’s tears but, when he hears you cry out for the third time that night, tear rolling down his neck, he comes.

© NEOVISIONED l NO REPOSTING OR TRANSLATIONS ALLOWED.

[chudleycanonficfest]

One Last Dance

Day 4, Story #1 is by @be11atrixthestrange

Title: One Last Dance Author/Artist: be11atrixthestrange Pairing: Jily  Prompt: Halloween Rating: T Trigger Warning(s) (if any): implied character death

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Harry was fussier than usual on Halloween night. Bath time was an ordeal, as Harry kept knocking the shampoo bottle out of Lily’s hand and splashing water at her. Afterward, the child almost refused to fall asleep; he wriggled in her arms and tugged on her hair as she swaddled him. Just because he couldn’t speak full sentences yet didn’t mean he couldn’t communicate; he did so with his eyes, and Lily swore there was a smirk on his face as she rocked and sang to him, until he finally drifted off.

Lily didn’t mind a fussy baby, in fact, she enjoyed the challenge. She cherished every extra moment with her child, and at exactly fifteen months, Harry’s newfound spunk was nothing but evidence of his emerging personality. He had her eyes, and she wondered if he’d get James’ messy hair, horrid eyesight, and infuriating charm. She grinned at the thought of a sassy and sarcastic Harry, star of the quidditch team, just like his dad. Or maybe he’d be more like Lily; sensitive and studious, top of his class, future Head Boy. 

Of course, there could be nothing remarkable about him at all. He could turn out to be average, maybe even terrible at sports, or join weird clubs and get below-average marks. Even then, if her son came home for the summer excited about a slew of ‘acceptables’, or stressed about Gobstones club drama, he’d still be the coolest person Lily knew. 

Whatever he turned out to be — head boy, quidditch captain, super-nerd, or even squib — Lily couldn’t wait to find out. It was funny how determined she had been to never admit her feelings for James Potter. Her feelings were always there, but that boy had to work hard for her affection. All Harry had to do was laugh, or sneeze, or wrap his tiny fingers around her pinky, and Lily was a goner.

With the stubborn child finally asleep, Lily shuffled downstairs to find that James had already cleaned up dinner in the kitchen and was pouring two generous glasses of wine, almost as if he read her mind. 

He beamed when he saw her — one of her favorite things about him was that he made no effort to hide his feelings, ever — and slid the glass across the countertop. 

“What’s the occasion?” she asked, raising the glass to her lips. It was bitter to the taste but relented into a friendlier, fruitier flavor once Lily committed to a sip. 

She never knew she could relate so much to a glass of wine. 

“Halloween,” said James. “I know you love it, and I’m sorry we couldn’t celebrate the muggle way.”

Halloween was always Lily’s favorite holiday growing up. There was something comforting about everyone’s sudden suspension of disbelief and willingness to face what scared them. She wished muggles would have embraced the paranormal every day, it surely would have made her life easier.

“It’s okay,” she said. “It has to be this way.” 

Lily wished they could hand out candy to trick-or-treaters, but the neighborhood muggles couldn’t see their home; not while it was under the Fidelius Charm. Staying hidden wasn’t what she had imagined when moving to a mixed-magical community, but for now, it was the safest option. The only option. 

James met her on the other side of the kitchen island, interrupting her thoughts with two fingers under her chin. “Definitely next year,” he said before tilting her head up for a kiss. 

Her eyes fluttered shut, and she smiled against his lips, wondering if Harry’s ability to make her heart explode was just as hereditary as his bright green eyes. There was something about those Potter boys that knocked her off her feet.

Maybe James was right, and next year, things would be different. They could get to know their non-magical neighbors, and Lily could take Harry trick-or-treating. He’d look so cute dressed up as a hippogriff, and no one would bat an eye when he’d insist it was a real animal. Kids say the darndest things, and on Halloween, anything was possible. 

“Next year, for sure.” Lily took another swig of her wine and relished in the evolution of its flavor, a delicious reminder that things change, sometimes so fast that she might blink and miss it. Things weren’t perfect by any means — they were in the middle of a war, after all — but there was no shortage of good in their lives. Not everyone could say they had a happy family, loyal friends, and really good wine. 

“Dance with me?” asked James, setting his wine down next to hers and tugging gently on her arm. 

It didn’t take much to lure her into the open space of the living room and settle into the crook of his neck. There was no music, but that didn’t matter; if there had been a beat, they would probably have ignored it anyway. 

“Do you remember the first time we ever danced?”

She nodded against his shoulder. Of course she remembered.

It was Halloween, sixth year, and James and Lily had been alone in the common room. 

“Happy Halloween, Lily,” said James as he approached her. “Today, you’re not a freak.”

Out of context, it might have sounded like senseless teasing, but it was so much more than that. She stared back at him, mouth agape, and wasn’t sure how to respond. It had been years — years — since they had talked about Halloween, and somehow he remembered a passing comment from her eleven-year-old self. 

“You remember that?” she asked, looking at him through narrowed eyes. 

It was her answer to an ice-breaker game during their first year — ‘what’s your favorite holiday and why?’ She hadn’t expected the confused stares at her response. In the muggle world, Halloween was the only day when she didn’t feel weird. Now, Halloween, and the fact that it meant something different to her than to everyone else, meant it was the only day when she did. 

However, she’d happily settle for one single day of being a freak; it was much better than three hundred and sixty-four.

“Of course I remember,” said James, smiling at her. His grin was electric, almost zapping through his messy black hair. Then, he reached out a questioning hand and raised his eyebrows. She stared back at him, wishing he would just use his words, yet she was impressed that with her, he didn’t need to. James always wore his thoughts on his face, in plain sight for the world to see, and never seemed to feel any shame or embarrassment for expressing them.

It touched a nerve for Lily, who had spent most of her life hiding. She longed for him to have to explain himself for once, to actually verbalize his thoughts instead of coasting by in his utopia where people just understood him. It wasn’t fair. “What are you asking, James?” 

“Dance with me?” he clarified. His voice was annoyingly calm and collected as if he knew she had been expecting him to elaborate, yet aware that he didn’t have to. He didn’t even flinch at her incredulous stare, confident in his request, as if asking her to dance was the most obvious progression to wishing her a happy Halloween. 

“Why?” She steadied her hands firmly by her sides, hoping James didn't see her fingers twitch toward his.

“To celebrate Halloween, of course.” His cheeks were rosy, his eyes sparkling, and his continued lack of reaction was curious. Despite her rejection, he committed to holding out his hand with confidence. 

“People don’t dance on Halloween.”

“I’m people, and I dance on Halloween,” laughed James.

She looked at his hand and considered it. Despite a few accidental brushes of her hand while taking notes or passing in the hallway, she had never actually touched him. And Lily had always been the curious type.

James followed her gaze to his hand and playfully wiggled his fingers. 

“Okay,” she said, placing her hand in his. His touch was gentle, firm, confident. It felt nice. “But there’s no music.”

“We don’t need any,” he said, pulling on her arm so that her body pressed up against his. It might have been too forward if she hadn’t fit so perfectly, but honestly, standing any further from him would have felt like sitting upright in a reclining chair. “If there was music, I’d probably ignore the beat, anyway.”

“You would?”  His soft voice immediately put her at ease in his arms, even though her palms were sweating and her heart was picking up its pace. “Why?”

“I’m too distracted,” he said. “Wasn’t expecting you to say yes.”

Lily laughed. “Then why’d you risk asking?”

“Anything is possible on Halloween, right?”

His arms tightened around her just then, not in a forceful way, just comfortable and supportive. She let herself get lost in the moment, swaying with James by the crackling fire, actually smelling, not imagining, his cologne, and feeling the prickle of his stubble against her forehead — when did that grow in? 

Maybe the next day, they’d go back to their usual dynamic, somewhere between flirting and arguing, annoyance and admiration. Or maybe, this would change things. There was something about the Potter boy and his messy black hair, unruly and uncaring, his glasses that should have made him look like a nerd but didn’t, and his annoying charisma that had an effect on her. It wasn’t a secret; they were both aware of it, yet neither felt the need to acknowledge it. At least not yet. They were so young, and they had so much time. 

“Was that when it all changed for you?” asked James, pulling her back to the present. “Is that when you finally gave in to my charm?”

Lily smiled at her husband. “Nothing changed that day. Nothing ever changed.”

James smiled, and Lily leaned into the sharpness of his stubble, a few lazy days unshaven. She melted against him and held him tight. Although his belly was softer, his voice was deeper, the circles under his eyes were darker, reflecting fifteen months of erratic sleep schedules, nothing about him had changed. 

The moment was broken by the sobering sound of a baby crying. Both Lily and James groaned as they pulled away from one another and swiftly turned their focus to their child. 

“I’ll put him back to bed,” said Lily.

“I can do it,” interrupted James. “You bathed him.”

Lily thought of the miniature James crying in his crib, and her heart clenched. It had only been minutes since she last snuggled him, and she already missed the child. “I really want to,” she said. 

James nodded, but his gaze was not on Lily. “Okay. I will meet you upstairs, then. I want to check the wards — I thought I saw some movement outside.”

Lily squinted at the window, her heart rate rising.

“It’s probably nothing,” said James.

Reaching for her half-full glass of wine, Lily nodded. “Alright, I’ll meet you upstairs. I love you.”

“Love you too.”

With one last glance at her husband, Lily made her way up the stairs toward Harry.

Harry, the child who always scrunched up his face when he slept, pursing his lips and crinkling his nose like he just ate a lemon. The boy with her eyes and James’ smile, who was already the best kid ever, even though his personality had yet to be determined. The kid who had a temper, but always calmed down the moment his mother wrapped her arms around him, the stubborn, determined one who could melt Lily’s heart with a single look. 

Her son, Harry, who she couldn’t wait to watch grow up, yet she hoped would never change.

[cayofdreams]

@mistressoflight​ asked: Just imagine you and Bakugou have been working together for a while and there’s all this sexual tension between you both because you’re afraid to act on your feelings for one another. Then one night at a friend’s gathering, you both are ogling each other. With a little liquid courage, you both decide to stop playing games and give into your feelings and have steamy makeout sesh which leads to y’all going back to your place for some good ol sexy times! 😁🙌🏾

~~~

YES!! We have the SAME BRAIN CELL!! 🤩🤩🤩

Rating: Explicit

Warnings: exhibitionism, making out, groping

He had a love-hate relationship with alcohol.

Sometimes he hated it.

But not because of its bitter contents, but because of how his bitter thoughts turned sweet at the sight of you. In fact, before tonight, he didn’t mind its taste. One could even characterize him as a heavyweight when it came to drinking. And yet, right now as he sat not even 10 feet away from you, it seemed the few sips he’d taken from his beer were already making him putty.

Though if he were being honest with himself, his sweet thoughts for you began long before this stupid party. He couldn’t pinpoint the exact moment his feelings for you became romantic, he just knew that they seemed to intensify with each passing day that you worked alongside him at the agency. Whenever you walked by, he lingered in the scent of you for as long as he could. Whenever he saw you smile, he begged for a way to photo-capture the moment with just a blink. And when you laughed, fuck- if only he could record each snorty giggle so he’d be able to listen to it whenever he felt down.

Perhaps these thoughts of you would be manageable if they were always so innocent.

But now that he had grown more into himself, and allowed himself to feel things that high-school-him would always block out, Bakugou had grown an abysmally deep desire to have you wrapped prettily around his cock.

Those scents that wavered off you would become drenched in his own as he smothered himself on top of you. That smile that decorated your beautiful lips would circle in a lovely ‘O’ as you felt the stretch of him plunging inside you. And that cute little giggle of yours would turn into cock-drunken moans as he drove you into euphoria with each orgasm.

Such debauched thoughts would plague him at every moment you were in his vicinity. He could blame it on the alcohol all he wanted tonight, but he knew these thoughts would only resurface with more vigor when he saw you the next morning.

“Fuckin’ beer...”

“What was that, Bakugou?!” Kirishima caught his low grumble as he plopped down next to him on the couch. “I thought that was your favorite brand!”

“Well it tastes like shit tonight!” Bakugou stood up, turning to go towards the kitchen. “There better be another kind in there, Shitty Hair.”

“Yeah, dude! There’s plenty!”

Bakugou grumpily walked to the kitchen, swinging open the refrigerator door to peek inside at the alcoholic contents. He must’ve been absent-mindedly reading the labels for too long because he suddenly heard a familiar voice ring out from behind him.

“Can you pass me a [redacted] while you’re down there?”

Despite your dreamy vocals rumbling pleasantly in his ear, he sucked his teeth as he slammed the door.

“Get it yourself, dumbass.”

You rolled your eyes at the retort before gliding yourself in front of him to reopen the refrigerator door. “So rude. You looked so bored, I thought I’d give you a task.”

Usually one to continue the banter, he became more enthralled at how your ass looked so perfect as you bent down to look at the assortment of chilled alcohol. He wondered how erotic the sound would be if he slapped his hand against it. Would it sound as sexy as your moans? How much would your flesh jiggle at the impact? Surely the sight would be just as appetizing as your smile.

“Hmm...I don’t see it here. I can’t believe they didn’t get any.” You squatted down to look at the alcohol on the bottom level. Your thighs flexed at the maneuver, slightly parted to balance yourself. Bakugou sipped from his ‘shitty’ beer as he gazed at your plush skin protruding from your skirt. “I guess I’ll just have this.”

Picking up a random bottle, you cracked it open taking a nice gulp. Bakugou saw the liquid go down your throat and he couldn’t help but imagine how smoothly- or unsmoothly you’d swallow his cum. A small smirk graced his face as he saw your face scrunch at the apparent bitter taste.

“Heh- You can’t even take a little bit of beer? Fuckin’ weak.”

“Hypocrite.”

“Hey! I ain’t no fuckin’ hypocrite, princess.”

Your body quivered at the raspy sound of the nickname. It wasn’t his first use of the bitterly sweet name, but you blamed the fact that you’d already had a beer or two on the reason for the rush of ‘adrenaline’ surging through you.

You lifted a shaky middle finger at him. “Hypocritical brute.”

Bakugou instantly took hold of your finger before wrapping his calloused hand around yours. He pushed you against the counter as he looked sternly into your eyes. “I might be a brute.”

Your heart pounded maniacally inside your chest. A matching throb with the pulsating inside your panties. Why were you reacting like this? For Ba-KA-gou? It just had to- HAD to be the beer. A lie you told yourself as you weakly pushed your free hand against his chest. “G-Get off. You’re ugly up close.”

Bakugou leaned more into you, moving his other hand up to grasp your cheeks. He could see the twitching of your eyebrows, the little trembles of your lips as you tried to avoid eye-contact. Your cheeks started to feel increasingly warm against his fingers as he glared at you.

Chuckling, he forced you to turn your head, getting a better look at how your face became so flustered at his motions. You finally met eyes with him and his heart seemed to skip a beat at how your e/c looked so prettily at him. “Back at ya.”

Your eyebrows furrowed at the reply as you parted your lips to land another insult. But before you could say anything, you felt the hot touch of his lips smashing against yours. His kiss was messy, wet with his saliva and the remnants of beer in his mouth. You let out little whimpers as you continued to meekly push him away.

You wanted this. And you hated it.

Bakugou used one leg to lock you in place so he could freely explore your body with the hand wrapped around yours. He squeezed at your waist, adoring the moan that hummed against his lips. Sliding his hand down, he reached under your skirt to grab a handful of your ass. The firm squeeze made you part your lips and he didn’t miss the opportunity to writhe his tongue between your lips.

As his tongue ravaged your mouth and his hand ravaged your plush ass, your leg naturally came up to wrap around his. Seeing this as an opening, he took both his hands to lift you up on to the counter. Breaking from the kiss, he leaned over to suckle at your throat. The hands at the sides of your ass came up to fumble at your clothed breasts.

“Fuck...Katsuki~”

With your eyes still closed in delirium, your hands came up to grab at the locks of his hair, pulling him more into you. “Such a fucking brat. How long have you been wanting this, huh?”

“L-Less than however long you’ve wanted this...”

A rush of air left his lips in a breathy laugh as he squeezed at your nipple from over your top. He could see the hardened tip despite your bra and his cock grew from within his underwear. Slipping a hand under your shirt, he grabbed at your breast before pulling the cup of your bra down. He molded his fingers into you, taking advantage of how fluffy and soft you were.

You felt so fucking smooth and delicate within his coarse hands. Even though you worked just as hard as him, it seemed to have no effect on your creamy skin. He twiddled at your nipple, pulling and twisting the bud to hear the various mewls escape your lips.

“Stop p-playing with it...”

“Why the fuck should I stop?” He grinned as his other hand went under your skirt to feel your clothed pussy. His thumb ran over the fabric, collecting a bit of the slick that had seeped through it. “Look how you’re reacting. You’re already so fucking wet.”

Curling his thumb over the crotch of your panties, he circled softly at your clit. Your hips squirmed over the counter as you weakly tried to escape the touch.

“K-Katsuki~ Wait...”

“Shut up. I’m not fucking waiting for you anymore.”

Smothering his lips over yours for another kiss, his fingers slipped under the band of your panties and started to pull them down. A more intense rush of desire overwhelmed you and you opened your eyes to look at what you finally ached for.

But instead you froze. Your eyes met the excitedly red, curious ones of Kirishima as Bakugou continued to press messy kisses at your jaw. Eyes widened like a deer in headlights, you instinctively pushed Bakugou off as you hopped off the counter.

“Fuck, what’s wro-” As he noticed the look of shock on your face and he turned around to see the person for the cause of it. “F-Fuck! What are you looking at?!”

“What are you doing in my kitchen?!”

“None of your fucking business!”

“H-Hey! You can’t say that!”

Bakugou continued to grumble as he blushed furiously at the current predicament. Whatever boner he had instantly leaving.

You adjusted your panties and smoothed out your clothes before grasping Bakugou’s hand and leading for the door. “Alcohol run.”

Exiting out the apartment, you intertwined your fingers with his.

“Okay let’s make this quick so we can go actually get more drinks. My place is close by.”

“Tch. Yeah right, we’re coming back for those losers.” He let go of your hand to give a light squeeze at your ass. “We have a lot of lost time to make up for. Get ready for a long night, princess.”

[alreadyblondenow]

Mark, this is how we broke up

idol!Mark Lee x reader // SMUT, FLUFF, ANGST (?) Summary: She taught him how to fuck but there’s so much more going on in their relationship. Word Count: 6k Warnings: Sex, Sex, Sex, actual sex and mentions of sex, filthy, mentions of rough sex, mentions of forced sex, emotionally unstable Mark, slightly addicted to sex, Mentions of other idols, mentions of birth control side effects, mentions of pregnancy, unprotected sex and protected sex, cursing, mature or at least trying to be Note: inspired by the recent breakup that I had. There’s no way that this ‘might’ be true. We all know Mark is a nice boy. If you’re not okay with any of the warning please click away.

“Ohh- Mark! Right there!”

“Right here? Hmm?” Mark puts more pressure on her clit and eventually pinches it to make her sensitive. Her legs closed and she received a juicy smack on her ass, “Why are you closing your legs? Don’t you like what I’m doing, huh?” his mouth is near her ear, every heavy breath, groan or moan from him goes directly to her ear and straight to her pussy.

With all the energy she still have, she praises Mark while he continues to fuck her senseless. Both of his hands are on the side of her head, having a full view of Mark’s ethereal visuals. Blonde sex hair flowing as he moves back and forth, his thin silver necklace dangling on his neck, his face completely contorted as he fucks her good.

Mark leans on her to suck on her boobs putting her completely on edge and is about to have a great orgasm. Mouth formed an ‘o’ shape, her hands raking Mark’s arms as she ask him to “please stop” but Mark will only stop when he wants to. Because of her high pitch moan and sharp exhales, Mark knew she had a great orgasm which feeds his pride more.

Gritting his teeth, he lifted his hips and gave her sharp quick thrusts while she’s still sensitive from her previous orgasms. “Hold on just a bit, I’m almost there” he whispers. He fucks the girl like he’s proving something, catching his own release and making the girl beneath him cry from over stimulation. He groaned a little too loud, but he doesn’t care. It’s his own damn apartment.

Removing his cock inside her throbbing hole, Mark rolls to the side and discarded the condom, throwing it to the trash near his bed. He watches the girl shiver beside him, closing her legs tight to ease the sensitivity. With one touch of Mark’s cold fingers on her shoulder, the girl let out a whine. “Relax, I’m just helping you calm down and cover your body” he said as he covers the girl with his thick blue sheets.

Head resting on the headboard with both of his hands pillowing his head, the room was cold and quiet as Mark lay beside her naked with a soft cock. “I’m a hooker but, you’re something- there’s something to the way you fuck” she started a conversation after calming down. “It’s getting late, I’ll call you a cab” he avoids the subject politely.

After the hooker left, Mark feels lonely again in his big apartment. Thinking about what the hooker told him earlier. It made him have flashbacks he didn’t want to have. He’s lonely enough right now, he can’t afford to think about you. But it’s too late. He’s now swimming to the happy memories he had with you, trying so hard not to think about how he ruined a once in a lifetime relationship and just focused on how your smile gives warmth to his heart.

“I miss you, y/n” he murmurs before he drifts into sleep, hoping to dream about you.

FOUR YEARS AGO

You’re starting your new life in Korea with a job at one of the country’s biggest company, SM Entertainment as part of NCT’s creative team specifically on fashion deparment. The job was stressful and tiring but theres nothing you could not handle, you love what you do. Working for NCT made you love the members like your own brother, all except for one member. Mark Lee.

It all started when you realised that Mark is not a boy anymore but a man who wants to gain experience with mature stuff. You and Mark eye each other during music video and vlog shoots and you both grew fondly, sneakily hold hands under the table during company dinners, texting and calling nonstop when you don’t see each other for weeks.

Mark has always been sweet to you and he’s not ashamed to show you how he feels. One time they used flowers as props for the shoot and Mark secretly put a flower near your stuff with a note, “You did well today.” He bought Starbucks drinks for all the staffs so he could give you your favorite drink freely and without hiding, “Noona, this is for you. Fighting for today.” Whenever other members are flirting with you, he will stop the members from bugging you and tell them, “Noona already has a boyfriend, don’t bother flirting” and it always makes you blush how Mark is so overprotective.

You and Mark became more than friends but less than lovers for almost half a year. And Mark’s constant want to make you feel love pushed him to ask you out officially. Taking you on private dates around Seoul, making time for you and letting the members and his manager know about your relationship.

Since you’re Mark’s first girlfriend, he’s not a perfect boyfriend. At least not yet. He always picks up a fight with you, decides recklessly when it comes to your relationship, and he’s moving so fast. “I’m just saying that if we start living together, we will fight less and we can have more time together” he said as he argues to you on the phone.

You don’t answer him because it’s useless, he will somehow get what he wants because he has the money, and you love him. Mark let out sharp exhale on the phone, “Okay I’m sorry. I’m being childish again. I’ll stop by at your apartment after dance practice. I love you”

He arrived at 11pm in your apartment with his manager. “Take care of him y/n, he has a headache. A bad one. Overworked I guess” his manager said before leaving you and Mark. Your boyfriend kiss you on the lips and greeted you, “Hi” weak and sleepy, Mark hugged you tight.

While watching him eat dinner he tells you everything about his day at work, how he’s preparing for three comebacks these past few months and he needs to finish writing four songs in two weeks. “Good thing I have you by the end of the day, right?” he said after finishing his meal. You hand him some painkillers for his headache, “Yes. Now, come to bed with me. No more working please, Mark. Even the best people in the world rest at night” realising that you’re right, he nods and let you take him to your bedroom.

“What will I do without you” he whispers to you before going to sleep with you.

The thing is, many people don’t know that Mark is actually vulnerable and emotionally unstable. Sometimes he’s not confident with his songs and he needs you to help him write because he only trusts what you say. If you say this phrase is good, or you honestly don’t like the words in this song he will take your word from it. That’s how much he depends on you. And sometimes, it puts you in a hard position because Mark is depending on you all the time is a heavy responsibility.  

It’s like he really can’t get everything done without you or without your opinion. It’s not that he doesn’t trust the other members, it just so happens that your opinion matters above anything else.

Mark may be too sweet and gentle most of the time, but he’s horny for you. Really horny. Whenever you’re alone with him in your apartment he always initiates having sex and you always say no and he respects that. You’re definitely not a virgin anymore and you have way too much experience, but Mark doesn’t. It’s not a problem of course, but you just wan’t to take it slow. Wait for the perfect time to finally have sex.

Mark being the virgin in this relationship and the one who lacks experience, he tries so hard to ruin his innocence before the day you two finally have sex. Watching tons of porn and take notes to some stuff he can do with you, working out more so he can at least look good in bed.

Sure you’ve done other stuff together, from making out wherever and whenever to giving oral to each other in the morning or before you both go to sleep. Back when Mark saw you  half naked in bed for the first time he didn’t know how to touch you, you used to teach him how to properly touch you in the way you like to be touched by your boyfriend. Now, he’s the one surprising you in bed whenever your legs are widely spread for him and his head is in between you eating your pussy like there’s no tomorrow.

After dating for nine months, Mark convinced you to live together as your birthday gift to him. “Please, you know how much I want live with you” he pout in front of you while you take his body measurements for a new stage costume. He worked hard last year and he bought himself his first own apartment and he told you he wanted to share it with you. How can you refuse that kind of offer when he’s trying so hard to be a part of your life, forever.

You moved in with Mark and you filled his apartment with happy memories, never ending laughter and giggles because he’s a funny guy. The kitchen became a learning place for him because you teach him how to cook almost everyday and he’s doing great. Peaceful mornings are both your favorite, it makes him feel like a normal person who cooks breakfast for you and waking up with his girlfriend in his arms is something not normal for an idol.

“This place is our safe place, only for us. No fan service for me, no boss for you to please. Just Mark and Y/n.”

Lately work is not giving you a hard time and so does Mark. You two always go home together, spend more time together, and finally had the perfect time to be more intimate. It’s been like this for almost a week already, It’s a Friday night and after having dinner and taking a warm bath before bed, you and Mark found each other in the middle of bed cuddling. Hands intertwined and legs all tangled up.

“What if I tell you, we could finally have sex tonight?” you asked him. Ruffling his damped hair from his hot shower.

“I’d say, ‘tsk. don’t tease me’” he said with a small smile in his face. His breath touches your cheeks because you’re too close with each other.

“No, seriously we can”

He pull away from your embrace, just a little to look at your face if you’re serious. “Scratch that, I’d say ‘what’s gotten into you?’” he dives in for a slow kiss, cupping your face with one hand while the other is still intertwined with yours.

Seeing you unbutton your sleepwear made him realise that you’re serious. He kissed you more and removes his shirt and sweat pants leaving him with only his boxer briefs. You on the other hand is exposed wearing only your white panties.

Feeling excited and a bit nervous, Mark slowly crawled in between your legs and he looks handsome than ever. It’s not your first time but you feel like a virgin again, that untouched seventeen year old. Mark smiled at you before he removes your panties, watching his own hands slide your underwear down.

He came close to you just beside your ear giggling like a little boy, “I’m nervous” he said and proceeds to kiss your neck. It seems like he knew exactly what he was doing, but you can’t blame him for being honest. “I’ll be vocal as possible” he hums in approval and continues to kiss every inch of your body.

He managed to remove his boxer briefs while licking your wet pussy, your eyes are closed and your hands are tugging his soft hair. Moaning his name whenever his tongue hits a good spot, putting more pressure and intensity bringing you to your first orgasm. Mark became really good at giving you oral you thought.

“I think you’re ready” he whispered as he grabs the condom on the drawer beside the bed. While you watch him roll the condom on his cock, your heart skipped a beat when he faced you and hold your legs open. The next thing you know, he’s slamming his dick in your pussy making you shout and jolt your hips beneath him, “Ah! Easy- baby, Im not going anywhere!”

The whole time you were having sex, he was not minding about your pleasure. He was so focused on his own sweet release and he can see that you’re not liking it but you let him continue.

Given that it’s Mark’s first time, the first round didn’t go well. “Do you want me to takeover?” you feel bad about it, but to be honest you wan’t Mark to never forget this night the night he losses his virginity. He hugs you tight while he’s on top of you feeling really ashamed of what he just did.

“There’s no need to feel shy baby. We have all night and a lot of days to have great sex. Come on, I’ll ride you” he’s still not moving and still hugging you tight, caressing your hair and enjoying your warm body beneath him.

“Okay baby, I need to breath. You’re heavy ugh-“ you tricked him and he didn’t have a choice but to pull away. You laughed and switched positions, putting your legs on both sides of his hips wetting his cock with you wet pussy. He felt your pussy raw for the first time and he loves it, holding your hips and as you slowly grind on top of him. “I got you” you leaned forward to give him a peck on on the lips.

His right arm swings to his head, as if he can’t believe what’s happening. Moaning your name so deliciously, “Oh, it feels good” he said with an airy tone. His mouth is open the whole time you were grinding on his cock, stopping himself from cumming too early. You grabbed a new condom on the drawer, and rolled it on his hard cock.

“Now put inside me” you said oh so sexily. With shaking hands, he lines his cock to your cunt and he watched how your pussy swallow his thick cock and let out a soft ‘fuck’ when it fully disappeared. You smile on top of him as you wait for yourself to get used from the stretch before moving. Both of your hands are on his chest as you watch him moan and move his head from side to side while you clench and unclench your pussy.

“I’m not going to last long if you keep doing that” he voiced out, you only let out a small chuckle.

“Try to stop cumming so early and enjoy it, Mark” you finally move your hips, grinding slowly, fucking him like how he deserves to be fucked. Mark’s hands grips on your hips so tightly the whole time you were fucking him slowly, making sure he won’t forget this moment. He’s peeking from his lashes, trying to get a look at you while you fuck him for the first time in his life.

“I’m glad you’re my first fuck” he said, trying to smile at you with hooded eyes, head rolled back to the pillows on his head and looking so fucking hot as he enjoys the pleasure you’re giving right now.

When you’ve had enough of slow fucking him, you tighten you grip on his shoulder and doubled your pace. Making you both moan each other’s name, his cock is finally making you feel good. You feel Mark’s cock twitch inside you and leaned closer to him, kissing him passionately as you bring him to edge.

To your surprise he bit your lower lip when he finally reached his climax with mouth open, eyes closed and brows furrowed. You smiled beneath him as you watch him cum and shiver, his hands still gripping both of your ass cheeks.

As he slowly open his eyes, he gave you a sweet smile and his tight grip became soft touches around your back. You flop on top of him as he caress your hair again. “How’s that for our first time?” you asked him, still weak from his orgasm.

“I still feel bad because I can’t fuck you good though” he said, but he looks happy now. You switched positions again so he could have the honour of pulling out after having a mind blowing orgasm. Slowly pulling out his dick, Mark watched your pussy stretched while he pull out. Kissing it like it’s your lips and apologising for not making you cum using his dick, on your first night having sex.

“Thank you for this. I mean, I should be the one making it special for you. But I failed and like, I really feel bad about it but like, I don’t know. Somehow it went wrong” he pulls the thick sheets to cover your naked bodies and lay beside you. Keeping you close and admiring your beautiful face.

“It’s not like you didn’t tried making me feel good, baby. You made me feel good too, I wouldn’t be wet the entire time if-“ in the middle of your explanation he put a finger on your slit and checked if you’re telling the truth and if you’re still good to go for another round. “you startled me” you said, enjoying the way his fingers move slowly.

“Want to give me a second chance?”

Without hesitation, you nod your head and kissed Mark sloppily. Mark is a fast learner, you didn’t know but the whole time you were fucking him earlier he was observing how you want things. He found out that he should take things slow, entering your tight pussy and looking directly in your eyes this time, “Mark, how did you know I’m in love with your eyes? Ah! fuck!” his hips moves slow and it feels way better than the first and second time.

The third round made Mark a little confident on fucking you, he made you moan his name, grip his shoulder, close your eyes and open your mouth as you ask for more. He was asking you how can he make you feel better even though you’re already batshit losing your mind on how good he feels inside you.

‘How fast do you want me to go? Hmm?’ ‘Baby, can I bite your nipples?’ ‘Clench all you want baby, I won’t cum before you do I promise’ ‘Want me to kiss you here? Okay’

‘What? You want another round after this? Me too’

“I love you” he whispered while thrusting with a steady pace that you specifically asked. Kissing you while he wait for a response. He chuckled and felt proud when he saw you smile and out of words. Finally, he made you cum using his dick, with a little help of his fingers putting on your clit.

Feeling so accomplished before he finally sleep after using all five condoms that he have. He hugged you tight and whispered how in love he is with you but you’re already sleeping. Kissing you good night as you don’t know how happy Mark Lee is.

After that unforgettable night, you and Mark have sex almost everyday and just as you expected he became more confident in bed and even more sexier as each day passes. Sometimes he can be a little bit more filthier and rougher in bed, like that one time when he spits on your pussy, putting back your panties on and fucked you good wearing those ruined panties.

And that one time when he was so tired from practice, he fucked you really rough that night. Skipping foreplay and slamming his hard cock inside your dry pussy, “Mark! I’m not yet ready” you said as you try pushing his body away from you but he said, “I don’t care” in the most sexiest way ever and it turned you on. He apologised later after that night and he never did it again, because he knew it was wrong. But you said you liked it and it was pretty hot.

The members noticed Mark’s glow whenever you two had a great fuck from the night before and they always tease him for not being a baby anymore. His experience with sex made him write more songs about it. About you. Which the managers loved without a doubt and because of that Mark goes home to you every night with a big smile. Tired but happy.

You stopped using condoms when you finally took birth control shots. Having sex without a condom is new to Mark but this time, everything went well. You completely can’t get enough of each other, you passed out that night from too much fucking.

During his back to back to back comebacks and preparations with NCT 127 and SuperM, you both had busy schedules and stressful days because of work. And he comes home tired, sometimes frustrated and mad. You had sex more often because of stress and usually Mark is the one asking for it. Day and night, before you both leave for work and at night before you sleep.

If theres peace, chaos will somehow enter your lives. The side effects of the birth control shots was ten times harder than taking a normal birth control pill and it’s causing the fight in your relationship most of the time. Whenever Mark wants to have sex but you don’t because you don’t feel well due to the side effects, he sometimes make his way to you and convince you eventually. “You won’t move, I promise to do all the work” but the sex itself makes you sick even more.

You wanted to stop taking the birth control shot but Mark insist, telling you that it’s much safer than condoms. The thought of Mark getting you pregnant would brought chaos to the world, both of your careers would be ruined plus neither one of you is ready to be a parent. So you did it for Mark, you continued taking the birth control shot even though you really don’t want to.  

He’s not always like this, he’s only an asshole whenever he’s really really stressed at work which happens thrice a week, and the fight will usually last a week long. This happened during the preparation for Kick It era and Punch era and SM were making you both work like crazy.

Sometimes Mark sleeps at the dorms after yelling at you and picking a fight with you, “I make time so we could spend quality time together but you always make me feel like shit by refusing to make love and spend time with me. I don’t get you anymore!”

And sometimes you force yourself to work overtime just so you could forget the fight and have a breather. “Stay mad all you want, I don’t care I have work to do”

Most of the time it’s always job over the relationship and you notice Mark’s slight addiction on having sex with you. Not that he became a sex addict, no. Maybe he’s just really stress and he depends to you a lot, that’s why.

Even though the red flags were all bright and waving, you just brush it off and still stay with Mark. But one time you tried telling it to him, and he didn’t take it well. Anger clouded his mind, “Just tell me to stop having sex with you and stop accusing me.” It hurts when Mark doesn’t listen to what you feel and seeing him leave for practice without even looking to you straight up makes your heart ache.

When you didn’t come home because of work one night and Mark stayed up late waiting for you, the thought of you not living with him anymore and you leaving him in general scared the shit out of him. He went back to SM building to apologise, only to find you sleeping soundly in a small couch, curled up to an uncomfortable position but you’re tired already.

“Baby” he woke you in the most quiet way possible not wanting your officemates to wake up and see him. Thankfully your sleep was not that deep and you heard Mark’s whispers, “Mark?” you whisper back.

“Come home, please?” you came home with him without hesitation, scared that the other employees might see him if he stayed longer in public with you.

Mark always find a way to talk it out and make amends. He will need you and you will always understand him and everything will be peaceful for a few days or if you get lucky, weeks. But life will always find a way to make you two fight and make up, and do it over and over again. Breaking up was never a solution, Mark knew that all too well. He can’t live without you.

Sex feels good again lately and you haven’t fought for over three weeks already. He’s been incredibly sweet and caring, taking you out on dates and helping you with work whenever he can. Honestly you’ve been pretty worried about him, he’s been having anxiety and worries about his songs lately. Even questioning his own profession, ‘What if being an idol is not for me? Like, what if I have a different calling that’s why I suck at what I do now?” Mark throwing you questions like this makes you love him harder. Pouring every support you can give to him and stretch your patience more for him. His mental health becomes more and more unstable and it went on like this for roughly half a year already.

The past few months were quiet as if peace has taken over your lives again. Mornings became more peaceful and Mark makes love with you instead of just having sex for the sake of stress release. Kick It and Punch were both successful, now you’re both enjoying your long awaited rest eating watermelons in bed. Even though you’re both aware about Mark’s unstable mental state, life can still be sweet and beautiful because of the love you share.

“I’d trade any moment for peaceful times like this with you” he said, “our second year anniversary is coming” he scrunched his nose in front of you while munching. “I have the best gift for you and you won’t guess it this time” he speaks proud and you smirk at him, feeling excited about it. “I don’t want anything in this world. Just never leave me” he added.

Rest days are always your favorite because you two can stay in bed the whole day, watch Netflix, sing in the shower together for almost two hours, dates around Seoul, shopping together, have lazy sex, have filthy sex. In other words, no calls from work or idol schedules for Mark.

“Are you trying to get me pregnant?” you giggle as you brush Mark’s hair away from his face. Feeling his soft skin against yours, touching his muscles while you come down from your high.

“Maybe” kiss, “what if I am?” kiss, “I miss having fun like this in bed with you” kiss. Mark is siting in bed with you on top of him, sitting on his lap. His head in resting on the head board, arms around your body. He has a full view of your boobs and your glowing face.

“You know I like seeing you cum on top of me” you hum in approval, “three more rounds? What do you say?” he waits for your answer, not forcing you this time. Making sure he won’t do what he did from the past that made you hate him and cry in bed. Mark almost lost you that night.

Of course you want three more rounds in bed with Mark. “That’s my girl” he licks the valley between your boobs, hugging you close as you use his cock inside you for your own sweet release. Arms around his neck, you push him closer to your chest as he bites your nipples and eventually sucking them. “Mark, that feels good” you moan to make sure he won’t stop doing what he’s doing.

“C-close, Mark I’m close”

He lowers your body as he takes over on thrusting in you on top of his lap. Gripping and tugging anything you could find in bed as he fucks you senseless making your boobs bounce in front of him, lust taking over him fully. “Fuuuck!” you screamed and quickly hugged him to stop, he got the message. Hands caressing your bare back as you shiver on top of Mark’s lap, legs weak as you flop back down to the mattress making Mark giggle and draw small circles on your nipple as he lays beside you. After two more rounds, you begged him for one more round and ride him good as a thank you for making you feel good the whole night.  

“My stylist said I should go for a striking pink for SuperM comeback, I don’t know if that will suit me… Will it? Do you think I should go for it?” again with his dependancy to you.  

Mark is at a hair salon with Taeyong getting their hair done and ready for SuperM comeback happening in less than a week. Hearing that he will have a striking pink hair made you stop what you’re doing and imagine what he would look like. “Are you sure this is not about loving watermelons?” He giggled through the phone, “No.”

When he came home with a striking pink hair, you laughed at him but deep inside he looks handsome. “Well, you look yummy” you kissed him and smelled his hair. He picked you up bridal style and ran to your shared bedroom and tickled you until you cry tears of joy.

Tomorrow is your second anniversary and you can’t spend it together because he’s busy with SuperM promotions. Mark is a simple man who likes simplicity and nothing too fancy in life so looking for a really good anniversary gift is challenge. But you can’t give up. You decided to buy him a new guitar, similar with the one has but somewhat better and different. Inside the guitar there’s a written simple message that he can read whenever he’s doubting again.

It’s already five in the morning and Mark will leave in fifteen minutes. When you open your eyes, you see a cute Mark Lee kissing you until you wake up. He smells clean, his fingertips are cold against your skin, “Happy anniversary. This is one out of two for my anniversary gift” he slips a silver ring on your left ring finger which perfectly fits.

“It’s a promise ring if you’re wondering. I promise to be a better boyfriend. And I saw your gift by the way. I love it. I can’t wait to use it and sing to you after promotions. Just hang in there okay? I love you”

You went got up and it’s surprisingly cold, still sleepy and tired from last night, you saw a bouquet of flowers on top of the coffee table and a paper that contains Girls Generation’s members signature. Complete and framed. It made you happy and laugh because he used his idol card again just to make you smile over the silliest things.

The SuperM promotions was longer than expected but Mark is having a great time with his Hyungs. While Mark is away you’re work keeps on piling up because the company transferred you from NCT to Red Velvet, which you enjoyed because now you’re making costumes for girls.

You and Mark focused on work and it didn’t made you feel angry in fact, you think that Mark being away can make you focus better at work. You realised that you’re better off away from each other. As days and weeks go by, you think about moving out of Mark’s apartment. But he wouldn’t let you do it so you think of another plan.

Mark has been calling you for days already and you only answer just for the sake of telling him that you’re fine. From there on Mark sensed something wrong and the feeling doesn’t sit well on him. Being far from you makes him overthink stuff and imagine things that has the worst case scenario. Like you, getting tired of him because he’s emotionally unstable.

It’s almost midnight and you were just finishing work when Mark came out of nowhere and surprised you. “Surprise! I’m home! Oh, I’ve missed you so much” he said and showered your cheeks with kisses his hug getting tighter and tighter.

You irritatedly pushed him away.

“Okay- that’s new” he let out a sigh, “What did I do now?”

You crossed your arms and lean on the wall, you don’t know how to say it but you’ve made up your mind. You’re going to leave him. “I’m breaking up with you” He stopped listening after you said it.

“It’s funny how I saw this coming but still I had faith with you! I had faith with you that you will not chose to leave me, but fuck-“ he punched the wall, completely hurting his hand you wanted to come to him so bad and made him stop hurting himself but you can’t. To be honest his ears rang, he was light headed and he feel like throwing up. Tiredness and breakup in the middle of the night is not a good mixture.

“Don’t get me wrong please, I don’t hate you. I want to fix this baby, I tried thinking about about solutions and guess what we already tried everything and were still a mess. It bothers me. Knowing that we all have these problems all along and ignoring it over and over again- it’s bothering me baby. We can’t fix it, we can’t fix us”

Admitting that fighting for the relationship made you tired, is a hard pill to swallow. And it hurts because choosing to love yourself this time will hurt him. His emotional dependancy, the sex, and now you don’t know if you want the same things in life anymore.

You wanted to choose yourself this time and do what’s best for you. Because in the past two years, you’ve doing everything what’s best for Mark and Mark only because that’s how you love him. And leaving him is how you can love yourself.

“A week” he blurted out while you were in the moment of pouring out all your concerns. “A week off baby, let’s give each other some space” he kissed your forehead and left you. After what happened he figured, for sure you don’t want to sleep on the same bed with him.  

The space that Mark asked for just made him missed you, it made him realised how he’s been taking your patience for granted and how he’s using every part of your being for his own good. He wanted to fix that. He wanted to fix it so badly.

Looking back over the years, he remembered how you didn’t want to live together but he made you because it’s his birthday wish. ‘Mark how can you ask something like that?’ he told himself, hating himself more.

He remembered how you didn’t want to take birth control shots anymore because you’re having side effects already. And instead of being concerned he got mad at you. Mark told the story to Johnny and he just gave him a ’Tsk. I’m very disappointed’

While forcing himself to write lyrics with Taeyong on a Monday night, he kept on telling Taeyong that he needs your opinion first about the first words that he wrote already. Mark got an earful from Taeyong, ‘you shouldn’t depend on her always! You don’t how heavy it might be for her! Tsk. Do you think she knows anything about what we do here? She has her own profession! She studied years and years for it, how can you do this to her?’ of course Taeyong is always right.

On Wednesday night, you broke up officially with Mark.

“I think we should continue living separately from now on, Mark” you removed the promise ring that he gave you and put it in front of him. He was quiet the whole time, but he understands, blaming himself of course. He understands that now it’s all about you.

“They say if you love someone and they need you don’t leave them, and we hear those words in dramas. But Mark, this isn’t fantasy this is reality that’s really heavy for me. We ignored all the red flags and I think it’s time to let go now”

During your move out, he didn’t showed up and helped you. It’s okay, you thought. You hurt him and he needs time to heal. Clearing your stuff felt like freedom and you thought it was cruel. Cruel for Mark. You feel bad because breaking up really made you feel better.

Looking at the pictures around the apartment, made you feel sad, yes. But leaving it behind and putting them down one by one made you feel free. And again you think it’s cruel because Mark don’t feel the same way, he clearly wanted push through the relationship and you clearly don’t want that.

All the more reason to break up. You don’t want the same things anymore.

Because you did great with NCT and Red Velvet, another great opportunity knocked on your door. A job in Paris. You considered not taking it because of Mark, then you remember that you two have broken up.

He came to your apartment a week after the break up, begging you to come back in his life. “I heard you left SM, baby is it because of me?” you gave him a glass of water and sat beside him, it’s been a week but he already looked like shit. Dark under eyes and no happiness in his eyes.

“Listen to me,” you reached for his hand, “It’s not because of you. I’m finally choosing me. I’m doing what’s best for me and my career. It has nothing to do with you Mark”

He went on and on again about coming back to his life, telling you promises that you know he can keep, but you don’t want to be part of it anymore. “I Promise, I will someday be okay emotionally, I want you to be beside me when that happens. I think breaking up isn’t the solution baby, do you remember how great we are together? We can fix this, we can try and then if it doesn’t work i’ll leave. I’ll never bother you again”

“How can you say breaking up is not the right thing to do now? Mark I’ve honestly never been more peaceful these past few days”

Mark didn’t need to hear other things. What you said made him realised that he used up every chance he could make up with you. He left without saying a word, keeping the pain to himself the whole drive back to the dorms. “Dude, it’s going to be okay. Were here.” Johnny, Hyuck, Taeyong and Jaehyun all listened to him cry at the car not talking to anyone of them.

PRESENT DAY. FOUR YEARS AFTER

Mark still loves you.

................................................. Masterlist

inspired by the recent breakup that I had, please don’t steal my feelings huhu. Enjoy, and thank you so much for reading!