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raven-odyssey · 4 days ago

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⋆♱✮♱⋆ D is for delightful (part 2)

Ni-ki Nishimura x fem!reader

wc. 1.9k words

summary: after pairing up with a slytherin for a potion project, you somehow find yourself unable to tear away from him

tw. fem!reader, reader is implied to be a gryffindor, enha and giselle (my beautiful gorgeous queen 😫🧎🏻‍♀️) mentioned and all implied to be Slytherins, party & mention of minors drinking and smoking.

a/n. I didn't know what to choose for his cologne so I looked up what parfum ni-ki wears (i felt like a fucking creep 😭) say someone said it was a Jo Malone basil mandarin perfume so yeah 😁

part 1

Quidditch season has its way of bringing students of the same house together. No matter your opinion on your fellow housemates, quidditch is quidditch. Heading down to the great Hall for breakfast, you can feel the excitement of the first match of the season; Ravenclaw against Slytherin. You sit down at the Gryffindor table, serving yourself some porridge, fruits and a cup of coffee. As you start eating, you feel a light tap on your shoulder. You turn around, met with Ni-ki, a cocky smirk adoring his face. “We’re hosting a party tonight after the match, wanna come?” You knit your brows. “Already planning a party? You didn't even win yet?” He flashes you a confident smile. “Winning is guaranteed, Ravenclaw’s team isn't winning anytime soon.” You snort, teasing him. “Nah y’all are gonna lose.”

Ni-ki gasps dramatically at your response, clutching his heart, pretending to be in great physical pain. “How dare you. Do you have no faith in me???” You laugh at his dramatic antics. “Are they even gonna let you play? You skipped detention the whole week.” Ni-ki grins slyly at you, as if you had asked an absurd question. “Of course they’ll let me play, I'm the best chaser we’ve got.” He says cockily, earning himself a glare from Jake. “Besides, I’ve already got out of those detentions with a little help from Jay, no need to worry.” You roll your eyes, serving yourself another cup of coffee. “Please don't bring Jay into your shit…” You look around, trying to catch a glimpse of the boy. “Jay isn't even here, is he still asleep???” Heeseung pipes up. “He's up, probably still under the shower.” You nod. “You better catch the snitch quickly, it's cold as shit outside.” Heeseung rolls his eyes at your comment and scoffs. “Don't tell me what to do, I'll catch it at my own pace.” You sigh, already regretting not bringing something hotter against the cold november weather. Before anyone can add anything, Jay arrives, greeting everyone with a nod. “Well well well, look who decided to join us…” At Jay’s arrival, you decide to take your plate and cup, sitting down at the Slytherin table. Jake smiles, knocking your shoulder with his. “Finally decided to join us huh?” You nod, swallowing your food. You glance to your right, Jay still standing up, half asleep. You pat the spot next to you. “Sit down and eat. You have 10 minutes before you guys have to leave.” Jay’s eyes meet yours, he nods and takes the stop next to you, you serve him a cup of coffee and Jungwon starts piling up food on his plate. Jay blinks a couple of times, trying to chase the fatigue. “How are you so… hyper this morning?” “This is actually my fourth cup of coffee.” Jay shakes his head, mumbling something that sounds like Lord have mercy under his breath. Sunoo, who was uncharacteristically quiet, finally pipes up “If we win, will you come to the party Y/n?” Ni-ki sends him a look “You mean WHEN we win.” “Of course I will” You smile and glance at Ni-ki who's already looking at you.

The next few minutes are spent by Heeseung, Sunghoon, Ni-ki and Jake discussing the best way to beat ravenclaw – in the most humiliating way possible – Jay nodding along, playing with the food on his plate. They leave in a hurry to get changed in their quidditch robes. Jungwon gets up and starts heading to the quidditch area, you and Sunoo following. The three of you head out of the school, the freezing November breeze making you shiver. Tucking your face into your scarf you decide now is the perfect time to talk. “I am NOT lasting ‘til the end of the year, Nishimura is gonna be the death of me.” Sunoo laughs, as if he was expecting you to bring up Ni-ki, Jungwon on the other hand looks concerned considering how much you ramble about him. “May I ask why Nishimura out of all people is gonna be the death of you?” He inquired, his voice tinged with playful judgment. You flash him an apologetic smile and start gushing about Ni-ki. “Did you see how he looked at me earlier??? I thought I was gonna have a heart attack. I don't know if I wanna punch him or eat him up-” Sunoo grabs your arm, a delighted laugh escaping his lips, as Jungwon gives you a weirded out look – he's not quite sure what you mean by that.

—————————————

The match finally came to an end, Slytherin completely obliterating Ravenclaw with a whooping 250 to 50. You meet up with the rest of the group in the Great Hall for dinner. “Ni-ki that goal was something else, I mean throwing the quaffle all the way from the Slytherin goalpost and scoring? It was amazing.” Jake nods in agreement, headlocking Ni-ki, ruffling his hair. “You were insane out there mate, I didn't expect you to score like that.” Ni-ki finally getting out of Jake’s tight grip, he smirks at you. “Told ya we were gonna win. Now you better come to the party angel” You roll your eyes trying to ignore how your stomach seems to be doing cartwheels because of a simple pet name. Giselle, a friend you made since you started hanging out with Slytherins smiles at you “Wanna get ready together? You can bring your dress with you so we can get ready in my room!” “Okay!”

—————————————

“You look great.” You make eye contact with Giselle through the bathroom mirror, adding some mascara to your lower lashes. You’re wearing a black slip dress, with black heels and your hair is down. You smile. “Thanks Giselle, I love your dress by the way. It's so cute!” Giselle smiles, tugging her loose soft pink hair behind her ear before crouching down to put on her heels. You let out a yawn, feeling the lack of sleep of last night – as well as the caffeine crash – getting to you. You set the mascara tube down, giving yourself one last once over, before heading into the Slytherin common room with Giselle. As you both get down to the common room, Giselle whispers “Go get your man.” in your ear. The party is in full swing, music blaring and people drinking and dancing everywhere. The room is dimly lit with Slytherin color, the atmosphere lively and electric. In the sea of partying students, you spot Ni-ki, cigarette in one hand, drink in the other. He spots you too, greeting you with a hug. “Hey, nice dress” He speaks loudly, trying to make himself heard over the loud music. He hands you a drink. “Thanks! Giselle kinda left me. Do you know where she went?” Ni-ki looks around, trying to find her. He taps your shoulder, giving you a shrug. “I can't see her sorry angel.” He pauses, taking a hit of his cigarette, blowing the smoke into rings. He smirks, eyes roaming around your body. “Seems like you’re stuck with me sweetheart.” You roll your eyes, unable to meet his – suddenly finding the content of the drink he had handed you interesting.

You take a sip of your drink, face scrunching at the taste of alcohol burning your throat. You turn back to look at Ni-ki, only to find him already looking at you. It's not the way he usually looks at you, with mischief because saying or doing something that would get him in trouble, there’s something different in those eyes and it seems whatever changed somehow makes you even more drawn to him. You can already feel your body loosening up, the alcohol making its way in your system. You grab the half burned cigarette from his grasp, taking a hit. There's a hint of surprise in Ni-ki’s expression, that's quickly replaced by delight and something else you can't quite place your finger on.

—————————————

You are not God's strongest soldier. Three drinks in and you somehow found yourself resting your head on Ni-ki’s chest, arms around his waist, one of his hands on the small of your back, the other holding onto his – technically yours since he stole it – drink. The scent of his cologne – a citrus and amber-like scent– filling your nostrils. The party is still raging, people everywhere and it doesn't seem to stop anything soon. Ni-ki gently whispers in your ear. “Hey sweetheart can't have you falling asleep on me, why don't you call it a night huh?” – You can practically hear the small smirk that must be forming on his face by now – You distance yourself from him, just enough to see his face. His eyes find yours and he smiles. It's a smile you could get used to seeing – it's sweet and it makes you believe you might actually have a chance with the boy – you nod, silently agreeing to call if for today. “Mkay… I'll go to sleep.” Maybe it was because of the smile he’d flashed or maybe it had only to do with the alcohol you had, but you get on your tiptoes, kissing him goodnight. “I think you missed darling, you must be very drunk if you don't know where my lips are.” Its harmless teasing really, usually a simple eye roll to brush it off would have done the trick. But today, you decide that yes, maybe you should kiss him if it means he’ll finally realize you’d like to be the only one he flirts with, the only one he kisses. And so you roll your eyes, “You’re so demanding Nishimura, you’re lucky I love you.” and kiss him. It’s sweet, you can taste the lingering taste of the alcohol on his lips. He pulls you closer, deepening the kiss, his lips moving against yours and you're suddenly aware of what you're doing. You break the kiss and mumble a quick “Good night.” before heading upstairs, crashing in Giselle’s room

—————————————

Drinking was not a good idea. At all. Whatever was in the drinks, it was strong, strong enough that you find yourself waking up the next morning having absolutely no recollection of why you were not in your bed. You can tell Giselle is in bed by the steady sound of breathing behind you. You try getting up an arm wrapping around your waist, someone snuggling into you. You freeze, turning your head slightly – to your surprise Ni-ki is behind you, still asleep. “Hm Ni-ki? Wake up.” You try shaking him awake. He makes a noise between a groan and moan but he opens his eyes, taking you in. “What?” His voice is still laced with sleep, deeper than usual. You look at him bewildered, wondering how he could be so calm. “What??? What do you mean ‘what’??? What the fuck are you doing in Giselle’s room and why are you sleeping next to me???” Now it’s Ni-ki’s turn to look confused. He props himself on his elbow. “Hey hey hey, calm down princess, I'll have you know last night you crashed in MY room, and I need my beauty sleep so I slept in my bed. I was sure you wouldn't mind… You know since you love me.” he adds teasingly. Oh the bastard. You can already feel your cheeks flustered and unfortunately for you, the memories of last night are finally becoming clearer. And you can clearly remember not only telling him you loved him but the feel of his lips against yours. You blink trying to chase the memory from your mind. “I- ok maybe I do. But so what?” He smiles as if he knew you would say something like that. “I was thinking about asking you out so that we could share our first kiss more… romantic setting but looks like you beat me to it angel.” “Oh shut up Nishimura.” He smirks. “So, can I be your boyfriend?” “Yes”

©RAVEN-ODYSSEY

reblog, comments and likes are appreciated!

#𖤐unkind𖤐 #enhypen x reader #nishimura riki x reader #nishimura riki #ni ki x reader #ni ki fluff #enhypen niki #niki x reader #niki x fem reader #niki x you #niki x y/n #enha x reader #enha fluff #enha imagines #ni ki

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pastlivesxpastlie · 5 months ago

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♡⟡˙⋆It takes us a little higher⋆˙⟡♡

Summary: You've never been fond of your roommate Vessel, but a mortifying shared experience brings you closer than you ever thought possible.

a/n: MDNI - smut under the cut. Alternate, affectionate title is "Close the Fucking Door. Holy Shit."

roommate!vessel x fem!reader, enemies to lovers, some angst, porn with plot, accidental voyeurism, laundry day tension, vessel's favorite color seems to be emerald, reader and vessel are mean to each other, very brief slut shaming (the word "whore" is used twice derogatorily), “you’re the closest and hottest thing right now” type shit, rough sex but it’s comfort sex

No, roommates don’t have to be friends. There is no bylaw saying if you share a dwelling and the bills therein you have to be the best of friends with your housemate…but if there was, you and Vessel would be faced with a hefty fine. Where you saw the opportunity to be lighthearted, he would claim you never took anything seriously; yet when he attempted to be playful with you, you accused him of mocking you. Is this brownstone in town worth the strife? Actually, yes. Everyone has their own comfortable spaces, it’s close to everyone’s workplace, the rent is reasonable. And yet. This afternoon you’re in the little laundry room sorting things to go into the washer when you hear the heaviest sigh. “Just going to start laundry, then? No worries if anyone else needs it.” Oh, he’s grumpy today.

Vessel has his barely filled laundry basket in his long arms and impatiently drums his fingers on it.

“Doesn’t seem like you were going to ask me. Now does it?” You nod at his laundry basket as he stammers a bit. “Just put it in with mine.”

“No, it’s fine.”

“Vessel, seriously,” you snap, “you have barely anything in there. We’d be wasting water if I didn’t…”

“This is how I always do my laundry! Saying I’m the reason the water bill i–”

“JUST… put your laundry in the washer. Jesus.”

Vessel huffs and drops his laundry in like you said (or as you demanded as he would have put it). You two can hardly look at each other. He doesn’t even acknowledge you as you thank him. He shows his gratitude by switching the laundry and then sorting it once it’s dry. He does this in the living room with an inconsequential movie on. You join him for what you call “a folding paaarrttyyyyy.” This actually gets a little laugh from him. Humorless laugh, but it’s a sign of life.

It had been a month or so of just existing in the same space since an “incident” had occurred. Neither of you brought it up but it lingered heavily between you.

𓍯𓂃

The morning of the incident you two had a civil, even thoughtful, conversation. You told Ves you’d be out that evening, maybe even all night. This delighted him. He could do some audio mixing without fear of interruption. Spread out in the living room. Oh the possibilities! He even asked who the guy was. Anything to encourage you to leave him alone for the night. Get you talking and excited about whoever the hell this poor man is so that maybe you’d get yourself all giddy and blushy and convince yourself to stay out all night. You deserve it…no wait…no. Vessel deserved it. He had to keep reminding himself he didn’t actually care.

Except he did. The evening was actually boring. You’d only been gone an hour, and he was already thinking about going to bed. He idly wondered what you and the guy were doing. That emerald green dress you had on made it seem like you were dead set on seducing on him. The way it hugged your hips and didn’t even graze your knees. How your sheer black stockings made your legs glimmer just a bit. Vessel came to the conclusion that you actually could seduce this man without even trying…you’d just have to show up. Fuck. These weird, clouded, thoughts that flirted with being both positive and lustful rubbed Vessel the wrong way. That’s his roommate he’s thinking about. Maybe he’s just lonely.

Yes, that’s it. He’s desperate. And that feeling churns and grows to the point where he can’t ignore it anymore. He’s home alone, after all. Why not make a little “to do” about it? He dimmed his lights and slipped out of his clothes, splaying out on his bed with a little bottle of lube close by. This was something he missed. Indulging in a little fantasy and playing with himself, all while not having to wonder if someone would hear him or walk in or just make some goddamn annoying noise that would distract him. All he could hear was his ragged, raspy breaths and soft moans…and the slick pornographic sounds of his fist pumping his cock. God it was so nice to just edge a little…he really did deserve this. He tries to think of something to calm him down and dull the feeling. Your most recent argument about where the reusable grocery bags were was very helpful in this instance…except for when he remembered your little dress. How soft you looked piled in the satin. What kind of panties did you have on under that? No panty line was visible so maybe…no don’t go there. But he has to. He has to imagine what it would be like to let his fingers trail up your inner thigh to then lift your dress and see those fucking tights hugging your plush ass and maybe even how your soft thighs would expand as you sit back on your heels, your pretty eyes gazing up at him…

“Oh…fuck!”

But it wasn’t Vessel exclaiming. Why were you home? “CLOSE THE FUCKING DOOR. HOLY SHIT.”

You had scurried into your room. Your cheeks hurt from your nervous grin and the blush dusting your cheeks; you feel like a little girl running from her crush. But this wasn’t innocent. You had just watched your roommate cum. The little whimpers and groans piqued your attention the second you entered the hall. You actually thought he had been crying but…good god. If there had been tears, they’d have been ones of ecstasy. The look on his face…you’ll never forget that. The way his jaw fell and his eyebrows knitted together…how his bobbing throat signaled yet another desperate moan. You had left your date way early for…reasons you’d rather not think about at the moment. You had a new problem. The image of arrogant, quiet Vessel truly enjoying himself…looking absolutely delicious…vulnerable…that wasn't leaving your mind anytime soon. And you couldn’t stop thinking about the way his abs flexed as he came…what would they feel like under your hand if you were riding him? Or against your own soft tummy while you’re on your back? Or even against your back as he spooned and fucked you while whispering filth in your ear. You stared up at the ceiling by the low light of your bedside lamp after taking care of yourself. The thrill from your momentary distraction from your bad date turns into guilt and settles in your tummy where your arousal once was.

Your mind won’t shut up. Berating you for being such a perv. And that’s when you hear Ves. Pacing. He does that sometimes. Of all the sounds you hear from sharing a wall with him, that’s the sound you’ve come to anticipate the most. How his mind reels at night. You start to ruminate, imagining that he regrets this. But it seems you finally have something in common tonight. You’re embarrassed. You’re awake. And you’re alone. Instead of nodding off, you take a chance. You reach up and knock softly on your shared wall. Just a little, “I’m right there with you.” And as you drift off to sleep you hear two soft, timid knocks above your head.

𓍯𓂃

With the laundry folded in complete and utter silence, you sigh heavily and take your folded laundry into your room. Your phone vibrates in your pocket and you grin at the text…completely ignoring the visitor in your doorway. You don’t even look up but you speak. “I’m going out tonight.”

“Oh? Uhm. Cool.” Vessel tries to act as if he isn’t the one encroaching on your space. Too aloof to care. He certainly wasn’t feeling touch and attention starved. Not at all. That had nothing to do with why he was standing in your doorway, watching you poke at your phone. “Another date?”

“Yep. Been too long since the last one.”

Ves looks at you thoughtfully and weighs his options. Does he risk perhaps having to talk about the “close the fucking door. Holy shit” incident? Or does he continue to push you away? Continue to make you the villain in his inner monologue? He takes a deep breath, holds it, and bites the bullet. “Why did you come home so early that night?”

A long sigh escapes you. “I…got to the restaurant and, well, basically he told me I looked easy and that he liked that. So the whole evening was just…” you pause and look away.

“He didn’t try to…like…”

“No.” You don’t mean to snap, but you did. Vessel nods, nonplussed by your tone. “No, I didn't give him a chance. Turns out I’m a whore for dressing like that and for not putting out. Such is life, yeah?”

“Waste of an outfit, if you ask me.” You stare at Vessel for a bit. He seems angry. Tense. His legs jitter a bit and he wipes his face with a long exhale. “You should be taken out in that dress whenever you want…wherever you want.”

You go to your closet and pull out a few dresses like your emerald and hold them up to yourself in the mirror. “Well, he’s getting a second chance tonight.”

He scoffs and crosses his arms. His height allows him to take up most of your doorframe; he secretly hopes that might keep you from leaving. From seeing that degenerate. If you just wanted to get fucked he wishes you’d just ask him. But he has to remind himself that some people need a bit more than that. He wouldn’t know the first thing about what you needed. He pleaded with himself nightly to not worry about it. It won’t work. It shouldn’t work. But damnit…you’re right there. The single hottest and closest thing. Vessel doesn't realize he’s just been staring, shaking his head with disappointment.

“Care to share or are you just being weird?” You say without looking away from the mirror.

“Why are you putting yourself through this? Hm? Do you like being treated like that?”

He purses his lips when your eyes pierce through him, getting ready to strike. “Well, not that present company can understand this but people can change and redeem themselves. Besides, what do you care?”

You’ve got him. Vessel looks down, sniffs, and shrugs. “Maybe you are a whore.” He immediately winces. That was mean…and stupid. He pushes himself off the doorframe and sulks back to his room. But you’re on his heels.

“Tell me why you care, Vessel,” you demand to his back. He won’t turn and face you. “Fucking look at me.”

With a heavy sigh, he turns, shoulders slumped…and hard as a rock. His arousal can easily be attributed to the blood rush and emotions from being angry but truth be told it’s from imaging you in those dresses you were considering. And imagining you in that green dress, letting him take you out and then have his way with you.Your eyes are boring into him with a look he’s never seen before. “Want some help?”

He nods softly.

“Can I get verbal consent? Jesus Christ,” you huff.

“Yeah…yes, I’d like help.” He watches as you slip off your hoodie and kneel like you’ve done this before with him. What a sight.

“Take your shirt off, Ves. Please.” It all feels like a dream. Vessel is standing before you, rock hard and willing. Your hands rub up his thighs… to his hips…his abs…and he actually caresses your arms when they stretch up to gently play with his nipples. After moving your hands down to remove his pants, you place soft kisses on stomach and around his happy trail. Fuck. This is living. Your arms wrap around to his back as you hold him place, making him whine softly with each kiss. It’s impossible to keep from kissing and caressing your face right below his belly button. It’s unfair how good he feels against your lips and how lovely he smells from his body wash and just…him. As toned as he is, you find a soft spot and gently bite it. You look up expecting him to have his eyes closed but he’s actually staring down at you, biting his lip. It’s too much to bear. It feels like second nature to take his cock in your mouth. You’re lost in the feeling of taking him deeper until you gag softly. When you do, he caresses your hair, asking if you’re ok. His touch is so gentle, but you’re confused when he slowly pries you off his cock and stands you up. You’re about to take off your bralette when he shakes his head and tsks.

“I need something to hold onto, don’t I?”

You’re unable to answer as he presses a hot, messy kiss against your mouth. He’s quite literally taking your breath away as he wraps his long arms around your body and his tongue prods at your lips. He needs to taste you. He meant to not just enjoy you…but to know you. To know how you like…no…how you need to be kissed. And where you like to be kissed. It’s not enough to kiss you where “everyone wants to be kissed” like your neck and collarbone…he needs to map it out. No one will ever know this body like he does. It’s like his brain has shut down. He doesn’t remember pushing you to the bed and lowering himself to the floor on his knees as he took off your sweats and panties. But he’s fully lucid when he, without preamble, delicately presses his tongue against your heat for the first time. The sound that comes out of you…my god. He wonders to himself if you’d ever record yourself cumming for him or even let him make a little video sometime. Better yet…he’d just have you every night.

But that takes time and that’s what he’s doing right now. His tongue is tracing slow circles around your clit as he commits this moment to memory. The feeling of your fingers playing with his hair excites him, makes him feel giddy. He moans softly against your little sweet as he brings it into his mouth. It becomes very clear after a while that he’s chasing your orgasms along with you.

When he pulls away, he’s all starry eyed and a little giggly. “Oh…you are divine. Can I do more?”

All you can let out is a pathetic whimper as you catch your breath. He looms over you, wiping you off his mouth. “Can I get your verbal consent, angel?”

“Please. Yes…please…” you get out as your core aches to feel anything from him again.

“Look at you. You’ve got a little pulse down there, good girl.” He lets his fingers trace your throbbing clit, but there’s no relief. You whine against his touch. “Made you feel good, huh? Tell me something…how badly do you want to get fucked?”

You whimper softly and roll over onto your tummy for him. No words from you are required when Vessel whispers soft encouragements and makes sure you’re comfy before teasing your cunt one last time with his fingers. “Just put it in, Ves, please.”

Vessel gently pops your bralette strap against your back and chuckles at your impatience. “No warm up? I didn’t think you’d be this much fun.” Your front lifts from the bed as you moan into the bed, but Vessel smooths his hand down your back.“I know….I know. Just breathe, baby. Open your legs for me a bit more.” He runs his hands along your thighs and presses them into his bed. Like he said he would, he grasps the band of your bralette with one hand as he starts to fuck you. The stretch and feeling of him stroking you from the inside makes you cry out. You realize momentarily who’s fucking you…who’s making you cum. The forbidden idea that the energy between you two could spark both anger and the most palpable lust you’ve ever felt makes you press back against him harder. “Oh there she is,” Vessel grunts out as he lands a sharp spank on your ass. And another.

“Ffffuck. Ag…again. Please.”

“You like that?” Spank. “Such a sweetheart for me.” Spank. “You feel so fucking good…”

Your head feels fuzzy as his hands melt into your soft skin and his moans become higher pitched. More desperate. He’s saying your name. He’s cumming for you.

𓍯𓂃

You’re getting in late from a girls night out. It’s unsurprising that the house is dark, but you can hear whatever video game Vessel is playing…and sounding like he’s about to rage quit. His back is to you as he’s hunched over on the couch.

“Ves….” A beat. “VES! Turn that down…or off, preferably,” you huff.

“Tsk yes, mum,” he says smartly, turning the game off and tossing the controller. He wants to be grumpy…but there you were, settling in his lap…in that fucking…emerald…dress. He puts his forehead to your chest and presses sweet little kisses onto it. “Welcome home, angel.” No, roommates don’t have to be friends.

#sleep token fan fiction #sleep token smut #vessel x reader #vessel x you #vessel x reader smut #sleep token x you #vessel sleep token x reader #vessel sleep token #sleep token imagine #vessel fanfic #vessel imagine #vessel smut #sleep token fanfiction #woofie's situations

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watermelonlovershigh · 6 months ago

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Baby Fever /blurb/ (housemate!harry series)

AN: i now wish i would have made this blurb into a regular chapter with more details, making it longer, but i can't go back now. so this will be the first blurb in my series. i wrote this because i was having issues coming up with something to write for part 16. but after this, i'll get on top of starting part 16. i hope you enjoy and feel free to send in blurb ideas for this series.

This story contains: pure fluff, baby fever

{ housemate!harry - boyfriendrry - soft!harry - uncle!harry }

word count- 1,076

Harry has to babysit his niece for the day unexpectedly, and you get to watch Harry interact with a baby for the first time, which gives you baby fever.

It's evident that Harry was great with children, given his profession as a teacher. However, you were unaware of the extent of his skills with young children and infants until he was given the responsibility of caring for his sister's baby for the day. This situation arose when his sister urgently called him at four in the morning, explaining that her husband was facing a family emergency and needed someone to watch their daughter, Juniper, for a few hours.

Being the wonderful uncle that he is, Harry told his sister he'd be happy to spend his Saturday babysitting his niece. You had not yet met his sister or niece prior to this morning. But after meeting in Harry's entrance way at half past five in the morning, his sister was incredibly kind to you, even in the midst of her hurried departure after leaving little Juniper in her uncles care. As for Juniper, although she's just a baby, 8 months to be exact, she graciously allowed you to hold her, which you regard as a positive first greeting.

Since it was very early in the morning, Harry encouraged you to return to bed for a few hours while he kept Juniper entertained. Knowing he's an early bird anyways and you liked your sleep. You were hesitant at first but ultimately chose to follow his suggestion. You fell asleep again until around seven, when the delightful sounds of giggling stirred you awake. Rubbing your eyes, you got out of bed to see where all the laughter was coming from.

As you made your way down the hallway, the cheerful giggles intensified. Upon your arrival in the kitchen, you found yourself captivated by the sight. Juniper was comfortably seated on Harry's lap at the kitchen table, one of his arms providing her with support to ensure she remained steady, while his other hand carefully held a tiny spoon containing what seemed to be mashed peas from a jar of baby food.

Given that you've only been dating Harry for three months, you've not yet explored his views on the idea of having children one day. However, you're curious about whether he envisions a future with kids. You would be thrilled to give him as many children as he desired, especially if it meant starting each day with this delightful view.

Before long, Harry noticed your presence as he's feeding his niece and smiled gently at you. You walked over and took a seat at the table, continuing to observe him as he fed her the unappealing mushy peas until her tummy was completely satisfied. Harry then rose with Juniper in his arms and headed to the sink to get a damp paper towel, which he used to clean the green food that had smeared around her little mouth.

As soon as you heard the rumble of Harry's stomach, you decided to prepare breakfast for the two of you while he carried Juniper into the living room. You made avocado toast and served yourself a cup of coffee, aware that Harry had already enjoyed two cups since being awake.

Based on your background in waitressing during your teenage years, you skillfully transported two plates of avocado toast and one cup of coffee to the living room. As you stepped inside, you observed Harry gesturing to keep quiet with a finger pressed to his mouth, and then you understood the reason for his request.

Likely in a food coma, little baby Juniper rested soundly against his clothed chest. The sight brings a tingle to your ovaries. He slowly rose and made his way to the baby swing in the corner provided by his sister, gently setting a sleeping Juniper inside before activating the motor, which caused the swing to move softly while playing a calming melody.

Harry walked back over to the couch where you handed him his plate of avocado toast, saying, "Thank you, baby." before leaning in to peck a kiss to your lips.

"You're welcome." you replied sweetly, then begun silently eating your toast and sipping your coffees, being mindful of the sleeping baby. Once you're finished eating, you turned to Harry and can't help but blurt out the question you've thought all morning. "Do you want kids one day?"

Harry looked taken back at your question before a warm smile spread over his features. "Yeah, I would love to have kids in the future."

Keeping a quiet tone, you continued to prod, "You've always wanted kids?"

"Um yeah, I think so. I mean, after comin' to terms with my sexuality, I knew there may be a chance I can't have any biological kids. I would've been okay with that because there's adoption and stuff of the sorts. But havin' biological kids would be just as great. So yeah, I want kids one day. What about you?"

"Yeah, I want kids, but only if I'm with the right person." you answered and Harry gets a cheeky smile on his face, knowing you're dating. So if the answer doesn't describe him, then he must be doing something wrong.

Just to tease you, he asked, "Oh yeah, and what does the right person look like to you?"

You repositioned yourself on the couch, settling into a position that allowed you to straddle Harry's lap. In this close proximity, you explained, "I donno. Someone who is kind and gentle. A person who's responsible and smart. Someone who would always encourage our children to be themselves. And someone who may or may not pass on the charming trait of dimples to our kids."

Smiling, Harry cupped the sides of your face in his large hands and cooed in a mere whisper, "Does this person have a name by chance?"

You nod, "Mhm, his name is Harry." Right as his name rolled off your tongue, Harry leaned forward to capture your lips with his. The kiss is gentle yet passionate. It lasted a total of ten seconds before you pulled away. "We better stop before we start something we can't finish right now. There's a baby asleep in the corner."

With a fake pout, Harry commented, "Fine, but just so you know, in the future, when we're hopefully married, or not yet married because things happen, I'd love to be the father of your children. And I'd love you to mother our children. You'll be the best mother in the world."

Yep, it was the right decision to start dating your housemate.

(PLEASE REBLOG BECAUSE WRITING IS NOT EASY AND IT'S FREE SO JUST DO IT)

(if you want to be apart of my new tag list, let me know right here !! )

tag list: @swiftmendeshoran // @walkingintheheartbreaksatellite // @hsonlyangelxo // @lunabai // @ppleasingg // @harryscherrysugar

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#harry styles #harry styles fan fiction #harry styles fic rec #friend!harry #friendrry #housemate!harry #housematerry #softrry #soft!harry #harry x reader #harry styles fluff #harry styles series #friends to lovers #harry styles one shot #harry styles blurb #teacher!harry #bisexual!harry #blurbs

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evanchantingpeters · 7 months ago

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How I met Evan Peters (Fanfic - Part 6)

Pairings ─ Evan Peters x Y/N (fem reader)

Summary ─ Evan and Y/N are back in LA. When he dares Y/N to wear vibrating panties at his friend’s party, things go from flirty to explosive. What starts as a cheeky challenge turns into a heated race to the guest room, where they unleash an erotic showdown of throbbing heat and raw need. Just as their passion peaks, a shocking announcement throws their world suddenly into chaos.

Warnings ─ Swearing, oral (m receiving), vaginal fingering, vibrator teasing, overstimulation, mild daddy kink, nipple teasing, spanking, vaginal sex, pinned against the wall, doggie, extra smutty—it’s the norm by now ;)

Read Part 1 | Read Part 2 | Read Part 3 | Read Part 4 | Read Part 5

Word count ─ 4.5K (they’re getting longer, you guys 😱)

18+ This is ADULT content. I’m not your mummy to supervise your net access. If you’re a minor, do NOT read!

The evening sun dips below the horizon, bathing your apartment in a warm, honeyed glow. You adore these longer days—they make everything feel more alive. You saunter across the room, the hem of your mini skirt flaring and swishing around your thighs. Your outfit hugs your body like a second skin, leaving just enough to the imagination.

Your phone screen catches your eye, gleaming in the dim light. 21:16. You’re officially late for the party, and you can’t shake the nagging feeling that you should be rushing out the door. “Evan, we’re gonna miss all the fun if we don’t hurry,” you call out, trying to keep the urgency from creeping into your voice as you spritz on your favourite perfume.

Evan lounges on the couch, long arms draped over the sides and legs stretched out, a lazy smile playing on his lips. “Chill, baby. Fashionably late is our brand,” he defends with a confident wink.

A script lies forgotten across his lap, the pages flipping slightly from the ceiling fan overhead. He’s petting Rufus, your housemate Mayra’s Siamese cat, who purrs contentedly beside him. Mayra had barely returned from NYC before jetting off to Turkey to tend to her ill dad. With no time to get Rufus’ travel documents in order, he stayed behind, leaving you in charge of his care. You couldn’t ask for a better arrangement, to be honest.

Evan’s eyes are not on the words bouncing across the page in front of him; they’re on you and with a laser-focused intensity that makes the room feel a few degrees hotter. You sense his gaze tracking your every move as you flit from room to room; he traces the way your hair smoothly cascades over your bare shoulders, following the delicate arch of your back and the fabric clinging onto the curve of your ass just right.

His eyes linger, greedily drinking in every inch of your body as you rifle through your porcelain jewellery box. His gaze feels like a warm caress, drawn to the rhythmic sway of your hips with every stride, your smooth skin glowing under the light. Your bare feet make no sound on the plush carpet, but the air between you two seems to crackle like a live wire.

You pick out a discreet rose gold necklace, clasping it around your neck so it flows over your protruding collarbones.

“Are you gonna stare all night, or do I need to start charging for tickets?” you tease huskily, glancing over your shoulder with a sly smirk.

He chuckles, a rich rumble that sends a delightful tingle across your skin. “If I had to pay for a view like this, I’d be flat broke. I’m not sure I’m ready to share you with anyone else’s eyes tonight. Maybe we should skip the party and stay in,” he taunts, waggling his brows with a suggestive crooked smile.

Although his deep voice purrs with a seductive charm that always sends a shiver down your spine, you shake your head with a mischievous grin. “How about no? Nice try, but we’re going. So, get your adorable ass off that couch and put on your shoes, handsome.”

You head to your bedroom to grab your shoes and jacket, feeling his eyes trained on you. “Looks like you and Rufus are hitting it off, despite your die-hard dog obsession,” you mock as you pace back to the living room, fluffing your hair in the mirror with a casual toss.

He nods in agreement as he gently scratches behind Rufus’ ears. “We’re practically besties, but there’s only one pussy I’m interested in tonight,” he spills out, his lips curling into a knowing grin.

You catch his reflection in the mirror, snorting at his bold remark. “Is that so?” you coo, eyebrows raised, your voice dripping with feigned surprise.

There’s a wicked, predatory glint in his eyes as he slips off the couch with fluid confidence, nodding. In an instant, he’s beside you, his arms sliding around your waist, pulling your back against his chest. He brushes his chin along the nape of your neck, his stubble scratching pleasantly against your shoulder blade as he lets out a shallow breath into the shell of your ear.

“You know, miss, you’re making it very hard to concentrate on anything but you,” he rasps, his tone a low, intimate murmur that makes your insides flutter.

He peppers kisses along your shoulder until his lips find your earlobe, taking it between his teeth for a gentle nibble that makes your breath hitch and your pulse quicken. His arm glides across your stomach, splaying possessively on your hip, while the other hand sneaks up under your top. The electric feel of his fingertips cupping your tits and tugging at your hard nipples forces a gasp out of you.

“Evan,” you manage to huff out, trying to wiggle free from his grasp, but his robust arms only tighten around you. Each breath you take stutters in your chest as you struggle to form a coherent thought. “We gotta go.”

“No, we don’t,” he groans softly, the sound vibrating against your neck as he leans in to kiss the sensitive spot just below your jawline. “Come on,” he pleads and pulls you back in, his teeth grazing your skin as he leaves love bites along your flesh. “We’ve got a few minutes for a little appetiser before the main course, right?”

“We’re already late, Evan, and you’re not exactly helping,” you growl lowly through gritted teeth, playfully swatting his hands away. You’re giving him a reality check, but the scratchy undertone in your voice betrays your growing arousal.

“I could help you out of these clothes, though,” he blurts out with a smug smile, his arms glued around your waist, making your heart race even faster. You can feel the hard lines of his body as his fingers fiddle with the hem of your top.

“It’s just a house party, no biggie. My friends are cool with it…but you’re too hot to handle… and I’m having a very haaard time keeping cool,” he rambles, his face buried in your hair. He inhales a deep whiff of your jasmine scent, his hands roaming hungrily over your curves.

“Evan, we won’t get outta here if you keep this up,” you chide tenderly, though your words tumble down breathless and wanting.

Every fibre of your body screams at you to resist, to not let him fuck up into you. Even when his crotch is hard of rocket magnitude and leaking for you, and he’s only intelligible for a mere “Just sit on it, baby, please.”

Even when he’s mindlessly babbling utter nonsense crap because he truly has nothing in his head but the feel of your hot, wet pussy restlessly sliding over his cock until he loads you up to the brim.

Even when all you want is to play with his angered red tip, pull it back to open his little slit up and make him mewl, a chocked oh my fucking god, please escaping him. Even when you press his cockhead to your clit and rub it around, slapping it relentlessly on your cunt, and he implores you to stop.

“Evan…” your voice a breathy whisper as he hikes up your skirt, his feather-light touch making your cunt pulsate. He hums as his hands travel over your torso, now slowly and tortuously snaking underneath your skirt. “It’s not nice...your friends are waiting for u-u-s,” you trail off, your tone dying out as you feel his erection nudging insistently against your lower back.

You love the hard press of his boner against you. It makes your heart thud and your pussy drip, knowing you’re the sole source and cause of all that raw desire.

“We need to leave-e…” you protest weakly, torn between the ticking clock and the sinful temptation to stay and get laid. But your voice lacks conviction as he drags kisses down your shoulders, each one more insistent and heady than the last.

He chuckles softly, sensing the crack in your resolve. “We can, don’t worry,” he murmurs, his hot breath sending electric jolts down your core. “I’ll make it worth every second.”

Deftly unzipping your skirt from behind, his hands—firm and decisive—massage your ass as he leans in, peering into your panties. The sight of your black thong on full display makes him suck in a sharp breath and instinctively squeeze your waist in his strong hands.

“You’re gonna be the death of me, Y/N,” he hisses, voice thick with lust and just a hint of disbelief, like he can’t believe his luck. You let out a soft mewl as his erection grinds between your ass cheeks, almost spreading them apart with its intensity. The heat of his body seeps into you, and you can practically feel your slick pooling, turning your thoughts into a jumbled mess.

His lips find your neck again, this time more urgent and harsher, nibbling at your skin with a fervour that makes your brain go all mushy. You wince reflexively, but the brief sting melts into pleasure as his tongue laps over the forming hickey, soothing the bruise with gentle strokes.

His fingers hook under the waistband of your panties, pulling them down with agonising slowness. Just as you’re about to speak, his fingers slide against your inner thigh, dangerously close to your slippery folds, and you lose all train of thought. You moan, tilting your head to grant him better access, your fingers threading into his hair to massage his scalp, holding him close.

His free hand moves over yours, and you guide his fingers towards your bundle of nerves. “Oh, shit,” he hushes, his breath hot and laboured against your skin. His thumb brushes against your plump lips, parting them gently to reveal the soaked slit of your beautiful pussy.

“Imagine my dick drowning in these waters,” he mumbles more to himself, his chin resting on your shoulder as he holds you firm. His hips rub against you with a slow, deliberate rhythm, the friction making you arch into him, craving more of the pleasure he promises with every motion.

“Evan…” you breathe, the sound barely audible over your thundering pulse. But he hears you perfectly. His lips curve into a devilish grin against your neck as his fingers continue their teasing dance, sliding through your wetness with practised ease.

His thumb circles your clit with maddening slowness, and you can feel the heat swimming in your belly, the tension coiling tighter and tighter. His other hand grips your hip, anchoring you to him as he rubs against you. The pressure of his cock, still slotted between your ass cheeks, is a constant reminder of how desperately he needs himself inside you.

When he plunges two fingers through your sobbing walls, you mewl loudly. Your hands clutch at his shirt as your arousal splashes across your lower abdomen, trickling down your thighs. The sensation makes your legs quiver, begging to clamp together, but he keeps them firmly apart, teasing you with a wicked smile. He purposefully pops his fingers out just to smear your slick juices over your entrance before brushing his thumb along your swollen clit, and then sliding back in.

You bite your lip, your knees buckling, choked moans escaping as you watch his fingers disappear beneath you. They stretch your cunt, his index and middle fingers screwing and twisting just enough to draw a series of desperate whimpers from your lips. The way they press against your sensitive, gummy walls makes you feel deliciously full.

“I-I need my cock in here like…yesterday,” he huffs out, his voice strained with lust. His eyes flicker between your face—your brows furrowed, jaw slack with uncontrollable pleasure—and your beautiful sex clenching around his fingers.

“Evan,” you moan again, more insistently this time, your tone quiet yet desperate. His fingers probe in and out, deep in your cunt at an excruciatingly slow pace, curling expertly until the knot in your stomach stiffens. You can feel yourself spasming around him, your body on the edge of bliss.

You know you’re losing this battle, but a part of you doesn’t care. Not when he’s making you feel like this.

“T-t-tell me what you want, baby,” he dares in a passionate whisper. He keeps working his fingers in sync with your choppy breaths, angling them just enough to tease your deeper spots.

“I want more,” you exhale, every word laced with despair. “Finish me up,” you plead, and your eyes lock onto him. His dick twitches needily, responding to every tug of his fingers and the wanting moans gushing from your throat.

He lets out a dark chuckle as his fingers pump in and out, his knuckles sinking in through your arousal. “Consider it done,” he fires back, his voice a low growl as he swipes his fingers left and right with rapid precision. The messy, obscene sounds of your slick, wet cunt echo through the room, making him impossibly harder.

Your thighs twitch and ache with every deep plunge, instinctively trying to close around his hand that’s practically fucking you into exquisite sensitivity. Your hand wraps around his forearm, an attempt to slow him down, but it’s like trying to stop a freight train with a feather. Your nails bite into his skin, forming little half-moon indentations.

He laughs breathlessly, his teeth scraping your sensitive flesh as he ruthlessly works you over. His eyes are on your flushed face from the side, watching how your expression shifts with every thrust, your cunt squelching embarrassingly loud. He smirks at the sound, utterly captivated by your body’s reactions.

“You sound so pretty,” he grunts, nudging his hips against your bare ass as his fingers milk small sobs out of you. “You’re so fucking perfect like this,” he hushes, lips caressing your neck. Your pussy practically moulds around his slender fingers, holding them captive as you claw at him, your orgasm building and rolling through you like a storm about to break.

Evan groans, his arm veins (aka your fetish) popping out, the muscles in his shoulders straining against his shirt as he picks up speed. Your moans become louder, your breathing erratic and desperate.

“Cum for me, baby girl, would you?” he sighs, smacking your ass with his free hand as his clothed erection rages against you, demanding attention.

You nod eagerly, your eyes darting down to his bulge, wanting to reach out and feel him through the fabric. But he’s quick to catch your hand, bringing it to his lips and kissing it with surprising tenderness. “This is your moment,” he whispers, his voice filled with possessive intent. “I want you fully here with me, no distractions.”

Was that a man written by Olivia Laing, directed by Sofia Copolla and sung by Lana Del Rey? Just sayin’...

He dips inside you all the way to the hilt, upping his pace and rubbing tight figure eights against your clit like he’s discovered a new hobby. He mutters a string of curses under his breath as he watches your pussy swell around him, your clit throbbing under his relentless touch. You’re milliseconds away from an earth-shattering climax when an unexpected clatter slices through the air.

Rufus, your ever-watchful feline roommate/guardian, has knocked his metal off the dining table, sending it clanging across the floor like a gong of doom. His eyes are on you both with a judgmental glare, as if he’s caught you skipping class to make out behind the bleachers. It’s like he’s planned this interruption—a well-curated, meticulously premeditated offence.

You both flinch, gasping at the sudden chaos that shatters the moment. Evan snickers, reluctantly pulling away, his fingers shiny with the evidence of your disrupted freaky time. You lock eyes with Rufus, who’s perched on the table like a miniature tyrant, his tail flicking, clearly unfazed by your antics.

“Your son’s hungry,” Evan quips, smirking as he lifts his fingers to his mouth, sucking off your cum with exaggerated flair, humming at your taste. “Perfect timing, really. The little guy just wants to make sure you’re not having more fun than him.”

You scoff, playfully rolling your eyes at him as you smooth out your clothes with hurried hands, trying to regain some semblance of composure. “Rufus is a more responsible and diligent adult than us,” you mutter, adjusting your top. “Honestly, he’d make a great personal assistant if he didn’t have such a lousy attitude.”

Rufus merely blinks, unimpressed, as you dash off to the kitchen to grab his food, trying to ignore the lingering heat between your thighs. But behind you, Evan’s throaty chuckle reverberates across the room, making your knees weak all over again.

“Shoes, please,” you call over your shoulder as you scoop kibble into Rufus’ bowl, trying to maintain some authority. “We’re leaving, Evan… like now. And not a second later, or I’m dragging you by your shirt collar. Don’t make me put on my mum voice.”

“Woo, feisty,” he teases, puckering his lips mischievously as he slides on his shoes, still flushed and grinning like a naughty schoolboy. You shoot him a glare, trying to stay serious, but your lips twitch with amusement.

He throws his hands up in feigned remorse, letting out a dramatic sigh. “Fine, fine,” he concedes, though his eyes light up with mischief. “But I’m definitely picking up where I left off.”

You glance back at him as you set Rufus’ food down. “And what does this mean, Peters?” you challenge him, tongue grazing your side teeth. Your curiosity is piqued, wondering just how far he’s willing to go once you’re back alone together.

Rufus sniffs his food approvingly, tossing you a look that says, Finally some service in this house as he begins to eat with regal disinterest, tail swishing like a sceptre.

Evan disappears briefly, and you hear him rummaging through his bag. When he returns, he’s got a small box behind his back, and the tension in the room skyrockets with each passing second.

He slowly pops the lid off, each moment stretching out as you watch, breathless with anticipation. “Are you gonna propose?” you squeak, already half-freaking out at the prospect.

He bursts out laughing. “Close enough… but not yet,” he cheers, eyes drown in yours, eager and mischievous, as you peek inside to find a burgundy bullet vibrator nestled in a cocoon of velvet.

Your heart skips a beat as you stare at the object, a swirl of thoughts crashing through your mind. “You didn’t,” you gasp, eyes almost bulging off their sockets.

Evan’s fingers stroke lightly over the smooth, silky silicone. “Oh, I did,” he murmurs, a malicious grin spreading across his face. “I want you to wear this. To the party.”

“You’re joking. What’s that for?” you ask, suspicion lacing your voice as you eye the device like it’s a ticking time bomb.

“It’s my hand’s substitute,” he quips, his eyes twinkling with amusement. “Thought it’d make the party more… stimulating,” he adds with a wink. “It’s a night out and a night in, all rolled into one.”

Your jaw drops as the implications hit you. “Evan, you wouldn’t dare in front of all those people.”

“Oh, yes, I would,” he counters, brandishing a small remote like it’s the ultimate power tool. “Let’s see if you can behave yourself,” he dares, his thumb hovering tantalisingly over the on-off button. “I’ll have you buzzing all night, baby. All highs, no lows.”

You shake your head, biting your lip between excitement and disbelief. “You’re impossible,” you giggle, your voice barely above a breathless whisper.

He steps closer, pulling you into a deep, searing kiss that leaves you breathless, his lips moving with a hunger that makes you tremble. “Only when it comes to you,” he murmurs, nipping at your bottom lip. “And I promise to be gentle…most of the time, ma’am,” he continues, tailing it all off with a teasing soldier salute.

The bass from Gorillaz’s Feel Good Inc. thumps through the walls as you step into the house. The party’s already in full swing, laughter and joyful chatter floating up from every corner. Evan’s hand is a warm, reassuring weight on your lower back, steering you through the crowd like he’s the captain of this chaos.

Your outfit is drawing more than a few admiring glances as you weave through the throng of partygoers. If only they knew about the little secret buzzing beneath it all—a pair of vibrating panties, locked and loaded, with Evan holding the remote like it’s his personal plaything. His grin is downright wicked, a mix of triumph and mischief, like he’s got you on a leash, promising both pleasure and torment. You swallow hard, anticipation pooling low in your belly.

As you tread past the other guests, you catch sight of a few familiar faces from past outings with Evan during the nine months you’ve been together. There’s Mike, the self-proclaimed beer pong king, who’s always boasting about his legendary tournaments, with Evan often being the unfortunate opponent. And then there’s Lily, your lovely girly pop, who wouldn’t be caught dead without her portable fan, waving it like she’s a Southern belle about to faint from the heat.

You bump into Jake, your host, who’s holding court by the swimming pool with a group of friends. As soon as he spots you both, his face lights up, breaking into a wide grin.

“There they are! The dynamic duo!” Jake bellows, raising his solo cup in a toast as he swaggers over, pulling you both into a hearty bear hug.

“Wouldn’t miss it for the world,” Evan assures, his grin expanding. “Heard you were rolling out the red carpet just for us.”

“How else would I welcome the celebrities, eh?” Jake hoots, playfully thumping Evan’s arm like it’s a punching bag. “And look at my boy, all beefed up for Tron after that Dahmer famine. Y/N’s keeping you well-fed, I see,” he jests, wrapping Evan into a playful headlock and rubbing his head like a proud big brother.

Evan lets out a hearty laugh, pretending to struggle. “What can I say? She’s a miracle worker. Took me from beanpole to beefcake in record time!”

“Had to get him back on his feet, didn’t I?” you quip, watching Evan flex his muscles dramatically like he’s auditioning for a superhero movie. The exaggerated poses have you all in stitches. “Careful, those guns are a safety hazard,” you exclaim, poking his bicep.

Jake rolls his eyes, still grinning. “Well, you’ll need those muscles to handle the drinks tonight. They’re stronger than ever, so pace yourselves,” he warns, winking like he’s letting you in on juicy gossip.

You exhale loudly, placing the back of your hand to your forehead in mock drama. “Are we talking rocket-fuel strong? Got anything that won’t make me see double in two sips?” you ask, giving Jake a playful nudge.

Jake gasps in mock outrage, clutching his chest. “Hey, I’m practically a mixologist now,” he grumbles, acting deeply wounded by your lack of faith.

Just then, you feel Evan’s hand slipping into his pocket. You know what he’s up to, but before you can react, your panties spring to life with a gentle buzz. The loud Maroon 5 playlist drowns out the sound, but it doesn’t stop the sudden bolt of pleasure that zips through you. You inhale sharply, eyes widening.

Evan inspects you with a sidelong look and a mischievous gleam in his eyes, his lips curving into a knowing smile. “Everything okay, Y/N?” he asks, feigning innocence like he’s not the one flicking the damn remote buttons in his pocket.

You cast him a death-stare, running a shaky hand through your hair. “Oh, just peachy,” you croak, forcing a smile towards Jake while the vibrations catch deliciously against your clit and slit. It’s a struggle to keep your knees from buckling, but you’re determined not to give Evan the satisfaction of seeing you squirm. “You wouldn’t happen to know anything about that, my love, would you?”

Evan grins, his expression the epitome of mischief. “Not a clue.”

“Maybe it’s the party vibe getting to you,” Jake retorts, snapping his fingers as the music swells. “Let me whip you up something real quick. You’ll be singing my praises for my drink by the end of the night. Be right back.”

As soon as Jake’s out of earshot, you lean closer to Evan, lowering your voice to a hushed yet playful mumble. “You’re such a bastard,” you hiss, trying to sound stern but failing miserably as another wave of pleasure ripples through you. “I’m gonna get you back for this,” you mutter, but you bite your lip to supress your moans, dulling the sharpness of your threat.

His hearty laugh engulfs you, clearly showing how much fun he’s having with your delightful predicament. “I’d like to see you try, baby girl,” he taunts, giving your waist a gentle squeeze and your lips a set of loving pecks. “Besides, I think you’re enjoying this more than you’re letting on.”

You click your tongue and narrow your eyes at him, trying to act nonchalant despite the relentless vibrations. “You just wait, Mr. I-think-I’m-so-clever,” you begin, but he shuts you up by crashing his lips against yours. His tongue raids in your mouth, like he’s claiming it, while his left hand wanders up to fondle your breast with playful desperation.

Without warning, Lily sidles up beside you. “Hey guys,” she cries out, arms wide open as she air-kisses you both. “Oops, am I interrupting your get-a-room moment? Long time no see! Y/N, my stunner. What’s your secret? A killer workout routine, or just pure happiness? I swear, I’m trying to drop some fat, but those damn fries keep calling my name,” she rambles, pouting in frustration.

You laugh nervously, struggling to focus on Lily’s chatter over the persistent, teasing pulse of the vibrator that Evan has intentionally set to a teasing low. “Uh… you know, Lily… I-I. It’s mostly yoga and... m-maybe...uh a little too much caffeine,” you stammer, doing your best to mask the delicious distraction fluttering between your legs.

“Or maybe it’s a little too much of Evan’s company,” she teases with a mischievous wink.

Evan chuckles, his eyes dancing with a roguish glint as he casts you a sidelong glance that says more than words ever could. “I like to think I’m a positive influence,” he quips, his hand tightening on your lower back as he plants a kiss on your forehead. His gaze hints at a playful secret, clearly plotting something.

Just then, Jake struts back over, handing you a drink with an exaggerated flourish. “One cocktail for the fair lady,” he declares dramatically. “Tell me this doesn’t taste like heaven.”

You take a sip, and the fruity concoction explodes on your tongue like a carnival parade. “Alright, I’ll give it to you, Jake. This one’s a keeper,” you cheer, nodding appreciatively.

Jake bows deeply, puffing out his chest with mock pride. “You’re welcome, Y/N!” he sings, standing tall with exaggerated poise, as if he’s accepting an award for best bartender. “Now, if you’ll excuse me, chicos, I’ve got more magic to conjure.” With a final spin and a wink, he leaves you and Evan to your own devices, his exit as theatrical as his entrance.

The garden is a dimly lit dance floor, pulsing with the beat of the music. You and Evan are wrapped up in each other, swaying to the rhythm.

“God, I love this song,” he purrs, his body pressed close to yours, moving in perfect harmony. “But I love you more.”

“I love you too,” you mouth, smiling bashfully, as you reach up and tangle your fingers through his hair, tugging him down for a kiss. It’s soft at first, a teasing brush of lips, but swiftly escalates into something rougher. His tongue sweeps past your lips, exploring and tasting, invading your mouth. You lose yourself in the kiss, the world around you fading into a blur of tunes and arousal.

A group of friends gathers around, joining in a spontaneous dance choreo. You raise your drink to your lips, savouring the moment, when suddenly the vibrations crank up, hitting you like a jolt of electricity. You cough, nearly choking on your drink and almost dropping the glass. A wave of pleasure crashes through you, finally making your knees buckle. You gasp loudly, your face burning bright red. Lily pats your back, her concern evident as she watches you with raised eyebrows, while Evan’s grin stretches impossibly wider.

Evan vs Y/N 15 - 0

As the night wears on, you’re deep in conversation with Lily about her latest dating disaster—a guy who thought karaoke night was a perfect first date and that feminism is just an overhyped fad—when Evan decides it’s the perfect moment to dial up the levels to the max because…he can. The panties whir harder, the palpitation surge ruthlessly. You clutch the edge of the table for support, covering your mouth to stifle any sounds, praying no one notices your red-hued cheeks.

Lily, ever observant, glances at you, her head tilted with curiosity. “You okay, Y/N?” she asks, frowning slightly with worry.

You force a twitching smile, your eyes watering as you nod vigorously. “Yeah, just...really into the party,” you slur, your words catching in your throat, and you hope your tone doesn’t give off the sweet agony you’re enduring.

Evan, ever the tease, smirks at you from across the room, clearly pleased with himself. He raises his glass in a mock toast, enjoying the little game he’s orchestrated.

You give him a look that promises retribution. You swear, you’re going to wipe that smug look off his face later.

Lily heads straight for the buffet, giving you a perfect chance to escape the outdoor mayhem. Realising the downstairs bathroom is occupied, you make your way to the one upstairs. Evan floats up behind you, his hands slipping around your waist. His beer bottle presses against your hip bones, and his hot breath against your ear makes your core shudder.

“Having fun?” he purrs, his tone velvety and inviting. Before you can catch a breath and reply, he spins you around and hammers his lips against yours. His tongue dives into your mouth again, taking charge with an eager frenzy that leaves your senses reeling. He’s kissed you a hundred times tonight, but each one sends you spinning into another freaking dimension.

You don’t mind the way his lips are bruising yours with each expert tilt of his head. His hands glide down, and with a playful smack on your ass, you groan into the kiss. He always kisses you senseless, leaving you breathless, aching and craving for more.

You draw in a shaky breath as you try to regain your footing. “You’re lucky you’re so damn cute,” you coo, tucking a stray curl of hair behind his ear, “or I’d be prepping up some serious revenge right about now.”

Evan lets out a playful giggle, his lips brushing yours as he leans in for another fiery kiss. “I’d be seriously disappointed if you weren’t,” he rasps against your mouth, his voice hoarse and filled with mischievous intent.

“You’re such a troublemaker.” Once again, you try to sound stern, but the twinkle in your eye gives you away as you start for the bathroom.

But Evan’s having none of it. He slams his arm against the doorframe, effectively boxing you in. “I know,” he growls softly, his voice laced with lust. “But you love it.”

“You wish,” you hum, teasingly pinching his cheek. As you try to sidestep him and go back to the party outside, he shifts with you, his body melding into yours, blocking your every escape route.

“We’re not leaving until I fuck you.”

A shudder of arousal runs down your spine at his statement and the gruffness of his voice. You arch an eyebrow, trying to stay composed despite the heat rising between you. “Do I look like an idiot to you? Begging you for my freedom?”

He chuckles darkly as he gives you a once-over, his eyes flashing with raw desire. “No, you look like you want me inside you,” he fires back, your heart thumping wildly like it’s going a mile in a minute, and you struggle to swallow past the lump in your throat. “Y/N, I don’t think you quite understand how much I want you.” There’s a short distance between you as he’s looming over you, his breath scorching hot on your neck. “Every time you try to move, it just hits me how badly I need you.”

You shiver intensely as his words ignite a fiery thrill inside you. Trying to ignore the way his body is pressed firmly against yours, you clear your throat and force a playful grin. “Well, you know, a little public pressure never hurt anyone.”

His lips form a wicked smile as he walks you backwards, step by step until your back hits open the door of one of the guest rooms. Pushing his nose against the curve of your neck, he snarls, “All I know is that my cock is so fuckin’ hard for you right now. If I don’t have your pussy wrapped around it within the next thirty seconds, I’m taking you out there in front of the whole damn party.”

You can feel the hardness of his muscular chest through the thin fabric of your top as his hands move over your skin, with a confident yet affectionate grasp. They cup your ass beneath your skirt and drag you closer. You think you can tamp down the soft groan trapped in your throat, but you’re sorely mistaken when it tumbles down, strained and punchy, without remorse.

“So what’s it gonna be, Y/N? In this room or out there where everyone can watch me ruin you? Your call,” he insists, his tone both commanding and mischievous, his eyes never leaving yours.

“I-in here,” you stutter.

The Cheshire cat smirk you receive in return spikes your nerves even higher. “Bingo.”

Without giving you a chance to backtrack on your decision, he hoists you up into his arms with powerful ease. The door clicks shut behind you with a definitive thud as he smothers the little squeal ripped from you with his lips. The new angle allows him to roughen the kiss even more, and you feel every tensing muscle of his body against yours.

He wastes no time—he dives in like he’s starving, tongue slashing into your mouth with hungry urgency, fighting for dominance like always. His slurred groans vibrate against your lips, his tongue darting and flicking against yours. A zing of electricity shoots straight to your pussy, and you’re clumsily fumbling with his clothes to get them off him—buttons popping, belt clinking, a flurry of desperate hands.

In a swift, flawless motion, he strips you off your skirt and top, tossing them aside with a flick of his wrist before gently laying you on the bed. You perk yourself up on your elbows, staring up at your boyfriend’s towering stature. Your chest heaves with exhilaration, imagining the joy of having his load spilling inside you.

Still holding his beer like a trophy, he unzips the fly of his trousers with excruciating suspense. He shuffles them down just past his ass until his cock bounces out. You gasp at the sight; he really is hard for you already, if the angry-looking vein bulging from his thick length is anything to go by. He’s throbbing—you can see his dick viciously twitching with needy desire, sending another gushing wave of slick pouring out of your eager pussy.

As he kicks off his pants, he pounces on top of you, his rock-hard erection rubbing continuously against your slick folds. His mouth slips down your collarbone, igniting trails of fire as they move up to your neck. Each kiss is a jolt as his lips sloppily slide along yours, both of you swallowing each other’s moans.

“I’ve been dreaming about those sweet lips of yours all night,” he murmurs, his voice a heavy, lustful whisper that vibrates through you. “But not these ones.” He nibbles gently at your nipple, his breath hot and sensual against your flesh. He releases the area with a resounding pop before continuing his sweet ordeal, kissing up the column of your throat to your jaw and then finally your lips. “I wanna make out with your bottom lips until you crumble to dust in my hands.”

The thought of his mouth on you, his nose deep on the ridge of your clit while his tongue plunges deep into your gummy walls, lost in the sauce, sends a spark of excitement rushing through your veins. Those wet, slow licks across your slit until his chin drips with your juices…my god.

But as his hand and mouth drift lower to your sensitive bud, your playful defiance takes over. With a mischievous grin, you flip him over with a strength that makes even you recoil in surprise. You straddle him, pressing your palms against his firm chest, practically caging him beneath you with a triumphant smile.

“Sorry, baby boy, but you’ve got me so worked up with your freaking remote that I need you deep inside now. Ravage me,” you demand, your voice a sultry growl.

That sputters a chuckle from him as he spanks your ass, biting his lips, anticipation building to a fever pitch. With a gentle but firm grip, he takes your chin between his fingers, locking eyes with you. His dark orbs seem to pierce right through your soul. “Then, I guess I’ll just have to enjoy the ride,” he whispers, his smirk promising a world of velvety pleasures.

led with equal parts lust and admiration. His hands massage your breasts, rolling your erect nipples between his forefingers before gripping your thighs, nails digging in just enough to make you shiver with want.

As you hover over him, poised to take on cowgirl duties, a sudden commotion from the hallway erupts through the haze of passion. Voices, loud and furious, yank you back to reality like a bucket of ice water splashed over your heated skin.

“What was that?” you gasp, freezing mid-motion, eyes wide darting to the door.

Evan sits up, concern etched on his face. His hands are still steadying your hips, but his body is in full alert mode. “Damn it,” you whisper-shout as something heavy shatters against the wall outside. Your pulse hammers as you scramble off Evan, instinctively clutching the sheet to your chest to cover your nudity.

His protective instincts kick in immediately. He wraps his arms around you protectively, pulling you into his warm embrace. “Hey, it’s okay,” he murmurs, tenderly kissing the crown of your head. His voice is a soothing balm against the tension—the voices outside now distinct as those of a man and a woman trapped in a fierce argument. “Probably just some drunk jerks. I’ll handle this. You stay behind,” he commands, his expression hardening, a deep furrow in his brow as he reaches for his clothes.

Together, you sneak toward the door, the shouting growing clearer as you get closer. You exchange puzzled looks, trying to figure out what’s going on out there.

You press your ear to the door, listening intently. But then the angry voices suddenly shift—what was a heated argument dissolves into… laughter? You blink in confusion, pulling back slightly.

“Is that... Mike?” you mumble, recognising the unmistakably boisterous laugh of his friend, mingling with a few others.

Evan lets out a breath he’s been holding, shaking his head with a mix of relief and annoyance. “Those idiots,” he spits out, sighing, as his shoulders relax and the tension of the false alarm dissipates. “I swear it’s like a damn sitcom in here sometimes,” he scoffs. His hands find your waist again, his touch warm and familiar, as if he’s trying to rekindle the heat that was simmering between you just moments ago.

“Maybe we should go back to the party,” you suggest, your voice a little sheepish, trying to ensure everything’s okay.

“No way I’m letting you go,” he croons, his lips hovering dangerously over the soft, greedy slope of your neck. His hard, thick cock is just a whisper out of reach, teasing and taunting you with its nearness.

You hiccup a gasp as he lifts you effortlessly, pinning you against the wall with a force that makes your knees wobble. His mouth captures yours in a sloppy kiss that wipes away any remnants of anxiety, replacing them with a renewed surge of burning desire.

“I’m so wet for you,” you breathe in half-protest, half-plea as he trails kisses down your neck.

“I can tell,” he mumbles, chuckling against the steamy flesh of your boobs as he slides our panties off. Your breaths come in tattered and frayed bursts as he sheathes himself entirely inside your slick, sobbing sex with one smooth yet forceful thrust. Your nails dig harshly into the firm muscle of his bicep as you whimper, jaw dropping open in pure, blissful shock.

“H—Holy shit,” you yelp, your voice high-pitched and shaky as you squeeze your eyes shut, surrendering to his delicious torture.

With your legs twined tightly around his torso, you silently beg him to dive deeper. He obliges, rocking back and forth with a primal intensity, his hips slapping against your thighs. “Take it, baby, you can fuckin’ take this cock,” he growls, his voice raw with lust as he slams into you with merciless pumps. “It was made for you, just for you-u.”

He flashes you a victorious grin, his eyes half-lidded and intense. He scrunches his cute nose with every thrust that drives his stiff length deeper into your core, his balls pulsing against your tender slit. He bites your bottom lip to muffle his own groans, his breathing slipping out in ragged gasps.

So hot. He’s so hot.

“Ahh, yes. Give it to me rough,” you beg, your legs tightening around him as your mewling grows stronger.

“You sound so fucking pretty,” he pants. He nibbles and sucks on your lips before his tongue enters your mouth, tangling with yours in a tantalising assault. You whine as his thick girth slides out inch by inch until only the tip nestles teasingly inside you.

He’s fully pressed into you, his hot breath a mix of short and shuddering huffs against your neck. He pauses for a moment, burying his face in the crook of your neck, soaking in the scent of your skin as if trying to memorise every part of you. “I don’t wanna finish that soon,” he laughs breathlessly, fighting to keep control.

“You got me seeing stars, baby boy,” you whisper huskily, your words barely audible over the pounding of your own heart. Your lips brush against his ear, planting an affectionate peck that sends a tremor through his core. As he quickens his pace, his eyes roll back, his hands gripping firmly onto your hips like he’s afraid you’ll disappear.

He leans back, his abs flexing with each powerful pull of his chest and arm muscles as he slams back into you again. He’s so shredded, and you can’t help but skim a few teasing fingers down his chiselled pecs. So ripped, and you’re not missing the opportunity to trace a few veins that prod against your fingers. He gasps delightfully at your touch, his cock convulsing inside you, driven wild by the way the brief gape of your pussy grips him like a vice.

“Fuck, you’re like a glove on my dick,” he moans, his voice catching as he gazes down at the way your cunt hungrily swallows and slurps him deeper. The filthy, lewd sounds of your groans and bodies melting together skin-against-skin reverberate through the room, echoing your shared need.

Unable to utter a word without screaming, you bite down on his neck, leaving a dark purple bruise. “So good—cock feels so good in me. Fucking me just riiight,” you cry out against his lips. Your voice rises in pitch, the words dissolving into incoherent moans as your nails rake his back, leaving tiny red crescents in their wake.

He lets out a dark chuckle, pressing his forehead against yours, eyes fixing onto yours with a feral intensity. “You’re markin’ me, huh? Want everybody to know who I belong to?” he grunts, squeezing your thighs with a possessive grasp, a crooked smirk playing at the corners of his lips.

You nod faintly, a soft whimper escaping your lips as your fingers tangle in his hair, scratching lightly at his scalp. You’re trying to keep it together, you really are. But the way the head of his cock repeatedly strokes that delicate, spongy spot inside you turns your brain to utter mush. It leaves you no option but to spiral further into bliss and moan like a whore.

Evan tuts, shaking his head in mock disapproval. “Guess I have to do everything for you, hm?” His voice is coated in a low rasp, the words gliding into your ears like a warm cuddle. His lips curl up in perverse satisfaction as he shoves three of his fingers into your mouth, eyes glittering with enthusiasm.

You hum around them, staring at him with a lustful challenge. You gargle around his large hand, jolting each time he rams into you, drool spilling from your chin down to your tits only to finally land on his lower stomach and dick.

“Can’t even let my fingers keep you quiet, huh? Gotta let everyone know how good I’m fucking you?” he taunts, his tone a hoarse, sensual growl. His hips snap forward, and your body responds instinctively, every nerve lit up with pleasure.

You keep on sucking on his fingers, your eyes hooded with desire, each swirl of your tongue around his digits drawing a ragged breath from him. With a soft thud, he pulls his fingers out of your mouth, a smug smile tugging at his lips as he runs them down your body, tracing a path from your lips to your breasts, down your stomach, and finally to the apex of your thighs.

“Right, I need to take stricter measures, then,” he mutters, his voice like gravel, as he carries you to the bed, still buried deep inside you. You gasp at the sudden movement, legs wrapping instinctively around his waist.

He sets you down in the middle of the bed and gruffs, “Bend over f’me,” his tone leaving no room for disobedience. You barely have a moment to comply before your ass is met with a rude spank, forcing a sharp moan out of you and flipping you over on your chest.

His voice is a deep rumble, and you feel yourself pulse between your legs every time he speaks in these rough low decibels.

“Mhm, don’t get shy. Let’s see that arch again, baby girl…like the good slut you are,” he urges, and your face gets smashed right into the crimson coloured sheets, his fingertips softly caressing down your exposed spine and over your ass facing skywards, his touch both gentle and demanding. “Let’s see my favourite wet pussy, best piece of ass I’ve ever seen,” he growls, admiring the view.

“E-Evaann,” you drag out, your voice breaking as you suck in a shaky breath. It’s almost humiliating how much he makes your pussy clench and drip for him, but you can’t bring yourself to care, not when he's looking at you like that and goes to great lengths (no pun intended) to satisfy you.

He rubs his hand against the stinging part of your ass, soothing and igniting at once, before aligning his leaky tip with your entrance. Your cunt is soaked, practically begging for him, profusely sweltering hot with your own slippery slick. He licks his lips at the sight as he smacks his fat cock against your puffed folds, the sound wet and filthy.

“Don’t tease me, p- please,” you whisper, glancing over your shoulder at him as you balance on all fours, your voice barely a breath above a whimper.

He lets out a sinister throaty cackle as he leans down, staring at your dripping cunt before rubbing his fingertips right down between your slit. “Quiet, baby. I’ll fuckin’ tease you if I want,” and you moan, feeling the pad of his thumb smear the lustrous trail of cum near your hole and back down towards your clit. “I love hearing you beg,” he teases, but it’s short-lived as he slides the head of his cock inside you, stretching you inch by inch with delicious pleasure.

“My big boy, railing me so damn well,” you babble out as his thrusts become faster and harsher, your eyes widening once his lengthy dick hits against that perfect, sensitive spot so effortlessly. His sharp hips are so unapologetically mean, each snap of his body forcing you forward and back into him like a yo-yo he’s toying with.

He’s drilling into you at full speed, the headboard bashing against the wall in time with his thrusts. Your thighs jitter with ecstasy at just how nastily he’s using you, your needy walls biting around his shaft as he reels you back into his sculpted pelvis. You let out sweet sobs that fall on deaf ears as he practically splits you open each and every single time.

“D-don’t stop. F-f-fuck me, Evan. Right there, ‘s fuckin’ big,” you pant, your mouth hanging open, more spews of whines leaving you as he accelerates his hips ever further. The bed screams beneath you, each creak sounding like it’s about to give way, and you’re almost sure it’s going to break. “More, more… please,” you yelp as he thoroughly swivels inside you, wearing you thin.

“Shit, you feel.so.damm.good,” he growls, pumping even deeper with every word only to grab one of your wrists and restrain it behind your back. Your limbs grow knobbly as the heavy and thick base of his cock smacks against your ass. You’re dizzy, insanely so—your eyes rolling back and the wet hit of sounds of your desperate cunt fill the room, blending heavenly with your breathy mewling that matches his pace.

Docile dark irises meet yours as you look over your shoulder. Raw, guttural grunts die from the back of his throat as he allows you a moment to seize control, letting you rut back and forth, bouncing against his swollen, throbbing cockhead. The slanting curve in your back deepens, elevating the spectacle before him and inviting him to spank you again. You watch him bite his lip, his brows knitting together with ravenous desire as he throws his head back. Your name spills from his lips in a breathless mantra, and you reciprocate with endless whines. It’s your personal plea for more, for everything he has to give.

“Fffffuck, keep going,” he hisses, peering down at the way your sobbing cunt fervently takes him in. “Such a good girl—fuck, wanting my cock,” he mumbles, and you feel a rippling wave of goose bumps running down his body as you walls tense around him.

Shivering breaths ghost down against your sweaty skin as his pace falters and weakens, humping into you with his mouth prying open, falling slack. A gasp wretches from his throat as the melting crown of his cock smacks up against your g-spot over and over until you’re seeing nothing but pure white.

With a cry, your orgasm crests and crashes over you, your folds convulsing with pure euphoria. You stretch upwards, and he seals your lips in a steamy kiss from above, consuming the sounds of your sweet release with affectionate back rubs and a victorious grin against your mouth.

“That’s my girl,” he rasps, your hips bucking and jerking as the violent aftershocks of your high wrack through you. Evan holds you tight, chasing his own climax.

“Who owns this little pussy?” he hisses through gritted teeth, hitting against your cervix a few times before shooting ropes of hot cum deep into your womb. It’s abundant and warm, your pussy continues to constrict and pulse around his length. He whimpers curses into your neck as he collapses against you, twitching and pouring generous amounts of himself into you.

Rough tides of overstimulation wash over you as Evan climbs on top of you, his lips capturing yours in a soft, lingering kiss. Your mind is still foggy from riding out the seismic waves of your orgasm, but a nagging thought breaks through: you’re in someone else’s house, and you need to leave things as you found them.

“The sheets,” you gasp, gently pushing him off the bed. Baffled and out of breath, he observes with hooded eyes as you kneel down and begin to lick and suck the remaining creamy love from his spent cock.

“Oh God, Y/N,” he moans, his eyes widening in shock as his fingers tangle in your hair. “You’re killing me,” he whines, his voice a mix of pleasure and overstimulation. His lungs heave with each breath as you clean off the mass of cum he’s dumping into your mouth, drool spilling down your chin. Your mind swims in ecstasy from the adrenaline-fuelled, earth-shaking orgasm, and you moan against his shaft, the vibrations sending shivers through him.

The moment is pure, unfiltered bliss, and you’re lost in it—until the door suddenly flies open, banging against the wall.

“Evan!” a voice yelps. I look up in shock as Jeremy, another close friend of Evan’s, stands frozen in the doorway, wide-eyed and red-faced at the sight of us. His cheeks flushed crimson as he averts his gaze, embarrassed to have walked in on such an intimate moment.

“We’ve been looking for you everywhere!” he gasps, his voice cracking as he takes in the dishevelled scene before him. Evan, caught mid-stumble, face turning beet red, fumbles for his clothes, his stammers response coming out in a strangled mix of embarrassment and confusion.

“W-what’s up, Jeremy?” he stutters, his voice barely a whisper.

“It’s Jake,” Jeremy blurts out, his expression twisting into one of anguish. “He’s fallen off the roof.”

Jeremy’s words hit like a punch to the gut, the colour draining from Evan’s face. The room goes deathly quiet, the weight of his words sinking in. The room spins as everything comes to a screeching halt.

To be continued...

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Taglist: sillysillygyal, junkie4weezer, frankiesweird, divinerulerz, nickrhodeslittledarling

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ghostofbambifanfiction · 7 months ago

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CYOA

You know what screw it, I wanted to finish chapter 59 today but I feel horrible and it's just not going to happen so for now you can have this completed scene under the cut with my great affection love love peace peace feel free to react as it'll make me happy etc. etc.

Private WhatsApp Chat Resumed: Friday 18th March, 2022, 07:57 Members: Lily Evans, James Potter

================================

James Potter: i think it's pretty amazing that you and beatrice know the exact date that you first met when you were two

Lily Evans: Lollllll Hello to you too

James Potter: although idk how sirius would react if we knew and i suggested celebrating that hello, also beautiful hello beautiful is what i meant to say

Lily Evans: Suave of you.

James Potter: i'm only just having my first coffee of the day, alright? give me five minutes and i'll be on my game

Lily Evans: I suppose I can allow you five minutes. We didn't always know, but my mum's been journaling every day for most of her life, so a few years back we did a little detective work and it turns out she'd written about my first day at Little Tots. We've done something for our anniversary every year since, but she's blown my gift out of the water this time around.

James Potter: why, what was your gift?

Lily Evans: I bought her a ladyship. She's Lady Beatrice Booth now. Officially. Incredibly it only costs £30 and you get a tiny plot of land in Cumbria with it. I gave the pack to her housemate to leave out today so she'll get a huge kick out of it when she gets home later.

James Potter: how ironic is it that you got her a ladyship and i was looking into getting her canonised earlier

Lily Evans: Lol why?

James Potter: because i really really really liked that video, evans

Lily Evans: I see. I see. I see. Not embarrassed about you having seen that AT ALL. Although I suppose I don't have a right to be embarrassed when I've seen all of your childhood photos, do I? It was probably about time that you saw some of mine.

James Potter: what would you have to be embarrassed about? you were an adorable child i loved watching you grow up on an instagram reel with, inexplicably, flo rida's musical accompaniment

Lily Evans: Lollllllllll I know that probably seems like a weird choice, but it was our go-to dance song when we were eighteen. And on that note, I was a very awkward teenager, as you've now seen.

James Potter: almost everyone on earth was an awkward teenager and the ones who weren't awkward peaked in their teens, so think of how they've suffered since then although i guess sirius is the exception anyway you say you were awkward, but fifteen year old me would have been DESPERATE for fifteen year old you's attention

Lily Evans: Oh, you say that now.

James Potter: no i would have been and i wouldn't have gotten it because as we've previously established i was a prick when i was fifteen so if i'd gone to school with you i still would have been a prick, but a prick who wanted your attention and did all manner of stupid things to get it i would have driven you mad

Lily Evans: Twenty-seven year old you wants my attention and I've not been driven mad over it once, to be fair.

James Potter: twenty-seven year old me has much improved with age and is more deserving of it you however have been a delight your whole life which i now have visual proof of hence i'll be calling your best mate saint lady beatrice from now on

Lily Evans: I wasn't a delight my whole life, I promise you. As a child I was a precocious little shit who thought she knew everything and couldn't be told otherwise. That's why I got into so many scrapes, doing stupid, dangerous things because I couldn't just listen to my mother when she told me "no, Lily, that's dangerous." I was like a working class Peppa Pig, honestly, no wonder my sister couldn't hack being around me half the time. So you're not the only one who has much improved with age. And fifteen year old me would have had a massive crush on fifteen year old you, BELIEVE me.

James Potter: oh really?

Lily Evans: Would I have let you know about it? Absolutely not. But it still would have been there.

James Potter: you mean like the crush you've had on me this whole time?

Lily Evans: I already have to get you back for some nonsense you pulled yesterday, Potter, so I'd advise you not to pile on and add this to the list.

James Potter: lollllllll

Lily Evans: I'm serious!

James Potter: oh i'm sure you are to which i say go on then do it

Lily Evans: I will do it.

James Potter: you go right ahead i can handle it

Lily Evans: You're being very cocky right now and while I can't pretend I don't like it, it'll also prove to be your downfall later.

James Potter: we'll see, we'll see

Lily Evans: We will see.

James Potter: whatever you need to tell yourself, sweetheart

Lily Evans: I think the fifteen year old you has taken over the controls in your head, mate.

James Potter: he probably has, yeah but what can i say he's really chuffed about your crush on me

Lily Evans: You mean the crush you've decided I have that I haven't confirmed?

James Potter: right, yeah, of course, clearly i'm the one in the wrong here still sleeping in my bed, are you?

Lily Evans: I have to go do a work thing now.

James Potter: oh, sure, that old excuse

#sarah's choose your own adventure fanfic #sneak peak #is this the closest thing to a direct confession I've written yet?#answer: yes

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hannie-dul-set · 2 years ago

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HOME FOR THE BITCHLESS [6].

SYNOPSIS. wherein your friend offers a room for you to crash in while your dorm is being renovated, but fails to mention that your new housemates don’t know how to talk to women (oh, and they also have an ongoing bet about you, too).

PAIRINGS. choi soobin, choi beomgyu, lee heeseung, park jongseong, sim jaeyun, park sunghoon x female! reader. GENRE. housemates! au, rom-com, sitcom, reverse harem time baby. WARNINGS. almost drowning, a nauseating amount of stupidity, swearing, sex jokes, bribery, the boys are shirtless for most of the chapter. WORD COUNT. 5.2k.

TAGLIST. @cerealdreamwriter @tyongff-ff @dinonuguaegi @certifiedmoa @blueberrgyuu0 @primantha @blu3bell4 @nunugget @hoshi-is-ult-bbg @captivq @tocupid @seosalad @ddazed-lhs @gyuszie @mifuyuyo @error-cant-function @twocupsofsuga @flowerbe0m @dangerousconnoisseurbanana @laviesm @keikeu @elavin @chaemmie @rikisly @satsuri3su @gyugyubin @junhuicosmo @skzenhalove @luvkpopp @yansbolobao @emer-syn @eggomi @drunkinjake @soobiverse @deobitifull @haechanspudu @yawnzzn27 @7myoi @toothfa-1-ry @imsiriuslyreal @maimoirs @whippedforbeomgyu

NOTE. this is my favorite chapter so far i think i peaked here. the ppt scene was inspired by anthpo, my professors' tendency to use the socratic method to instill trauma in their students, and hoshi from seventeen's tiger agenda. also, most of this was written before i found out odi has passed 😔 fly high little guy.

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CHAPTER 6 — the obligatory pool episode.

THERE’S A HEATWAVE IN TOWN. When you wake up, it feels like you got transported into Satan’s rectum. It’s sweaty and disgusting under your covers, and kicking them off does nothing to appease the hellish humidity inside your room. But when you roll over to grab the remote for the air conditioning, blindly press on the button, nothing happens.

You try again.

It’s not working.

You jolt up from your bed, hair a mess, and armpits too sweaty for comfort. A power outage. Of course, there’d be no power on the hottest day of the year.

“Fucking shit, I’m so hot,” you announce as you make your arrival downstairs. It’s only Sunghoon and Jay in the living room. They turn away from their game of jenga upon your arrival.

“Yeah, you’re super hot,” says Jay. “I mean, damn global warming sure sucks, huh?”

The wooden tower collapses. You stifle out a grunt of agreement. “Apparently some feeders in the neighborhood broke down,” Sunghoon informs you. “They’re still fixing it. The generator also wasn’t working when Heeseung hyung went down the basement to turn it on. I think we need to get that fixed too.”

Well, shit. That’s not good news. You give Sunghoon a pat on the head for speaking thirty-six words to you today before walking over to the kitchen. Last time you checked, there was a stash of popsicles in there. You’re pretty sure they haven’t been completely water-fied by the blackout yet.

For some reason, upon nearing the kitchen island, the fridge door is hanging open. You understand why when you step on something— er, someone— on the way towards your frozen delight. “Ow!” Beomgyu hisses from the floor. There’s remnants of cold wind filtering out from the refrigerator. Beomgyu has claimed it as his territory, and he’s glaring up at you from his spot. “Watch where you’re going.”

“‘Scuse me.”

You walk over him, hiking one leg across his torso before infringing upon his fridge monopoly to grab a half-melted melon bar. This isn’t exactly how Beomgyu imagined how it’d be like to be in between your legs. “I’m not sure if you’re dense or if you just don’t give a fuck,” he says, propping himself up by the elbows as you dig through a plastic bag.

“I really just don’t don’t give a fuck.” You snap a bite out of the pale green popsicle. “Want one?”

“Give.”

“Go get one yourself.”

“Fuck you.”

“I’m sure you’d love to.” You close the fridge door shut and make sure to kick his side with your foot when you cross over him again. He lets out a cry of pain. You turn back, satisfied with your cold exploits, but there is no wall separating the living room and the kitchen, so Sunghoon and Jay were witnesses to that entire conversation. “Do you also want a bite?” you ask. Their ears burn a couple degrees brighter before declining.

Was that an intentional insinuation? Yes. Do you enjoy destroying their composure on purpose? Also yes. It’s a new hobby you picked up since staying here, and it’s definitely one you’ll miss once your dorms get fixed and you’d have to move out. Jay and Jake are both particularly difficult to get through, but sometimes you can manage to fluster the former, just like now. Jake has been impossible so far. You’ll get him one day. He can’t be left unscathed.

This may seem terrible, and sometimes you do get a teensy bit conscientious when one of them starts crying or becomes temporarily incapacitated— until you remember they have this whole secret bet going on that definitely involves you, so you should be allowed to fuck around this much, right?

“Hey! Why don’t we have a pool party?”

The genius idea comes from Jake. You immediately run up back to your room upon hearing the suggestion to change into a bathing suit, pausing right before your door because you don’t want anyone waving the PD&J at your face for indecent attire again. So you throw on a beach kimono for the safety of your wallet. They emptied the jar out yesterday to buy some meat for a barbecue party that’s supposed to be scheduled this weekend, but looks like you’re gonna be having that sweet, sweet pork belly tonight right by the chlorine scent of the pool.

You hurry downstairs, so fucking ready to be submerged in cool, refreshing water. But when you get to the courtyard— all the boys already loitering in and around the pool— you realize something.

Something a little dangerous.

“You’re finally here!”

Oh no. They’re hot.

“We’re playing chicken fight, come jo—”

A rather scantily clad Sunghoon pushes an equally scantily clad Jake off Soobin’s unclothed shoulders and into the splash of the water. They are all bare-skinned, glistening wet, and although it’s not a bad sight to behold at all, it’s a discovery that you wish had remained undiscovered until you finally leave this damned house.

Listen. It’s not like you’ve never seen any of them shirtless or almost naked before. Jay was literally in his highlighter underwear when you first met him. But you were never put in a situation where you’re able to look at them closely because all those times have been meshed with something stupid.

It’s very easy to overlook their general attractiveness when they all act like third-graders, bitchless losers, scandalized Victorian men, or all of the above at the same time, in the same sequence. It’s really easy to forget that.

But Heeseung has his soaked tank top sticking to his skin and Beomgyu is pushing his wet hair back with a wide grin. Your housemates might actually be a tad bit more attractive than your prolonged, initial impression of them. This can cause a little internal trouble.

“Why aren’t you getting in the water?”

Soobin is the one that’s asking, having already left the water fight in the middle and is now looking up at you, chest deep near the pool’s edge. You look down. You’re not sure if he’s looking directly at you because you’re a little focused on his toned arms resting above the ledge, but if he is, then good on him for keeping up with his eye-contact practice hours.

“Hey,” you call out, crouching down and hugging your knees. “Do you work out?”

Silence. Pink scatters across Soobin’s cheeks. He coughs out an unintelligible response and disappears back under the water, quietly swimming away. Yes. This is how it should be.

Feeling a lot more at ease after confirming you still have the upper hand, you finally dip your legs into the pool and stretch out your back with a satisfied groan. Fuck, this is perfect. You’re honestly unsure how you’re supposed to transition back into life at the dorms when this house has a perfectly refreshing pool at your disposal. You don’t remember what life was like before this. You’d live here for the rest of your life if you could. But you have enough pride in your system to prevent you from extending your verbal contract with Jake. Two months. It’s a few days past the halfway point now. All you could do is enjoy this life of comfort as much as you can.

Until it gets ripped away from you in the form of Jake yanking your ankle and dragging you under the water with a horrifying splash.

Before you know it, you’re gasping for air and grabbing the nearest thing your arms could reach out for so you don’t fucking drown— but when you finally manage to rise back to the surface, a loud inhale of air into your lungs, the person you managed to hold onto just happens to be Heeseung.

Heeseung, who’s looking down at you with wide, alarmed eyes while you’re wrapped around his waist. Heeseung, who shoves you back into the water out of panic and shock and whatever the fuck his problem is.

Jake rushes to pull you back up. Heeseung is dead to you.

“I’m sorry.”

He failed to kill you so he’s now down on his knees, timid palms on his lap, and head lowered in guilt.

“I am very sorry,” Heeseung repeats. “I am deeply reflecting on my actions.”

You’re sitting on the half log shaped chairs on the courtyard, still wet, arms and legs both crossed in petulance as Sunghoon quietly dries your hair with a towel from behind (no, you didn’t scare him into doing this).

“Stand up.” He flinches at the tone of your voice. “Go get yourself dried up so we can finally start the barbecue.”

He’s awfully obedient. You watch as his slumped figure trudges back into the house. “Was that too much?” The back of your head hits Sunghoon’s bare stomach when you try to look at him. He’s holding your head in his hands with the damp towel in between.

“You’re always a little much,” he mumbles.

“Is that a bad or good thing?”

Sunghoon ponders for a moment, staring at your upside down face. “More is always better than less?”

You smile, snatching the towel from his hands and jumping off from your seat. “Good answer.” Two gentle pats of praise on his cheek set his skin on fire. Speaking of fire, you can already smell the scent of smoke and deliciously cooking meat wafting in the air, so you run over to Jay who’s on grilling duty, hoping to get an early bite.

“Can you pass me a plate?” he asks, flipping the cut up pieces of meat on the barbecue grill. “Thanks.”

“Gimme one.” You open your mouth, chasing after the slice of pork belly on his tongs until he brings it closer to your mouth for you to bite. “Holy shit,” you muffle out, hot air escaping from your lips.

“Good?” he asks.

“Very good.” You swallow the piece. “One more?”

He lets you snack on a bunch of well-done beef before they could reach the plate and at some point he mentions, as you’re tearing open a few packs of ramyeon to cook, that you look a lot like the curled up pieces of shrimp he’s currently grilling. You narrow your eyes at him, hand dangerously hovering above boiling water with a square of raw noodles. “Are you trying to say I look charred and have a terrible posture?”

“No.” Jay raises a piece of shrimp in the air, showing it off to you. “Doesn’t it look cute?”

Now that you’re looking at it a little closer, it does look kind of cute. Huh. “Would you eat me if I was a grilled shrimp?”

Jay thinks about it. He keeps thinking until you start smelling something burning. “I’d keep you safe in my pantry,” he finally answers.

“So you’ll just let me spoil over and die?”

His expression drops. “Fuck.” The shrimp is unsalvageable. “I guess I’d have to eat you.”

The rest of dinner goes on as you expect. Jay and Beomgyu take turns over the grill until Jake thought he’d be naturally gifted over the fire and ended up making charcoal with the last pack of galbi (“It’s fine!” he said. “I’ll take care of it!”) and today’s heatwave suddenly becomes a whole lot hotter with the rising flame on the fucking grill right when Soobin brings out the marshmallows for dessert. It gets quickly defused by a fire-hydrant bearing Heeseung. Now your charcoal galbi has toxic frosting on them. This is the sign to move on to the next part of the program.

The set of log-themed chairs on the courtyard has a bonfire set-up at the center. Of course this unreasonably nice house has that. It’s already getting dark, ink seeping into the orange tintent sky. Jake decides to redeem himself after watching Heeseung fail to set up the chunks of wood for the nth time. “You don’t know how to start a fire? Dude, that’s so lame.”

“You burnt all our remaining meat with those fire starting skills of yours,” Heeseung huffs, stepping aside for the self-proclaimed camping expert.

“You still ate them.” You’re pretty sure that isn’t healthy.

“Because you would’ve felt sad if I didn’t.”

“You’re both equally lame,” Beomgyu chides, plopping down beside you with a bag of chips that you unceremoniously dig your hand into. “You two haven’t even had your solo chapters yet.”

A flame erupts on the bonfire. Both of them turn to look at Beomgyu. “What?”

“What are we arguing about?” Jay joins in, looking a little too excited for the squabble.

“About the fact that I’m cooler than both Heeseung and Jake.”

Heeseung’s expression falls flat. “You dropped out to become a streamer.”

“Leave of absence! I took a leave of absence and I’m coming back next year!”

Sunghoon and Soobin are both just ignoring the mess, roasting their skewered marshmallows on the bonfire and you aspire to be that level of unbothered. “Let’s consult a professional’s opinion,” Jay suggests, and all their eyes immediately fall on you. “Who do you think is the coolest?” Apparently that professional is you.

“This is like asking which dwarf is the tallest midget,” you wrinkle your nose. “But alright. Why don’t we settle this like real men?”

“Arm wrestling?” Sunghoon jumps in.

“Cooking contest?” Heeseung pitches.

“Do you want us to beat the shit out of each other right now?” Jake’s eyes fly wide open, alarmed. “I don’t think that’s a healthy way of settling arguments.”

“The fuck? No,” you spit out. “Thirty minutes. Prepare a powerpoint presentation explaining why you’re the coolest loser. Convince me. Ten slides max. Good luck.”

Something about almost naked men scattered around your home premises, aggressively typing on their keyboards with so much concentration and determination is so funny. You’re enjoying the raw bag of marshmallows by yourself beside the fire, watching as Heeseung starts panicking when you yell out “Five minutes left!” and starts typing even more aggressively. It’s pretty entertaining. Why haven’t you done this before?

At some point Jake brings out a projector and a projector screen to the courtyard. Seems like the power is back on, and your classroom of death has been set in place.

“Okay. Who wants to go first?”

You’ve produced a clipboard while they were working very hard on the PPTs earlier, legs crossed, fire crackling in front of you, and you click the butt of your pen in intermittent seconds as you scroll your eyes from left to right across the six boys standing in front of you. Heeseung looks confident. Jay and Beomgyu, too. There’s sweat dripping down Sunghoon’s forehead and Jake is furiously flipping through his notepad like he’s cramming for a final exam. But the poor, unfortunate soul that just had to look away from your gaze is none other than—

“Choi Soobin.” He flinches, nearly letting go of the laptop he has clutched against his chest. “Give it a go. The rest of you sit down.”

He looks rattled. “I’m not— I’m not really good at presentations,” Soobin chokes out, and the rest disappear from his side.

You let your chin rest on your knuckles, leaning forward. “Are you forfeiting? Is this a forfeit I’m hearing?” He doesn’t respond. You sigh. “Choi Soobin, are you settling with a D? A tiny, miniscule, measly D?” Beomgyu lets out a snort. You shoot him a sharp stare. “The other Choi, please shut the fuck up unless you want me docking points from you. Choi number one, please start your presentation.

Beomgyu straightens in his seat and Soobin hesitantly clears his throat, turning towards the blank, white projector screen as he holds the clicker with a visibly shaky hand. “Good— good evening,” he starts. “My name is Choi Soobin, and today I was tasked to explain why I am the coolest housemate out of the six. The answer is I am not. I’m not very cool. But—”

When he clicks to the next slide, your clipboard clatters on the ground.

“But I do have a hedgehog, and that’s kinda cool?”

“Holy shit,” you exhale a breathy squeak, the picture of the rodent’s cute little snout occupying half of the large screen. Soobin cycles through a bunch of photos of his hedgehog and the various screams of delight you’re eliciting after each photo makes him smile a little bit more. “Look at that little guy! Oh my god. What’s his name? Where is he? Can I meet him? Please let me meet him, Soobin I am begging you, I will get on my knees for you.”

“His name is Odi and he’s currently living at my parents’ house,” he explains. “I’ll invite you sometime.”

“That’s cheating! This isn’t part of the guidelines!” Jake interrupts, pointing an accusatory finger at the photo of Soobin holding Odi in his hands. Your coos are unceasing.

Heeseung nods along. “Professor, I believe this is completely unrelated to our topic at hand.”

Soobin looks visibly offended. You straighten your expression and click your tongue. “Ahem,” you start. “As much as I believe that Odi is the darn cutest little shit to ever exist and I will die for him given the chance, Heeseung is right. Mr. Choi, I’m afraid I’d have to give you a C.”

He presses the clicker. The slide is back to the video of Odi running down a slide.

“Okay. B minus.”

Now it’s the one where he’s laying stomach-up on the floor.

“Fuck. God dammit. B plus and that’s it. Soobin, sit down. Heeseung, you’re up next.”

Soobin seems satisfied with the grade, dimples popping out with a smile as he takes Heeseung’s seat in the audience when the latter readies himself for his turn. He stifles out a cough-laugh, one corner of his mouth crookedly twitching upward, confidently sauntering up to the front with his iPad, and it’s mildly unsettling because he’s usually Nervous Boy #2. But it’s almost cheating how pretty his teeth are when he’s smiling.

And apparently he’s aware of that fact. Because after projecting his title slide (LEE HEESEUNG 101: the anatomy of a Cool Guy™), the next thing that appears is actually a photo of his very charming smile, coupled with Chip Skylark’s “My Shiny Teeth and Me” as the background music for his scientifically-grounded explanation. The next slide is a zoom in of his eyes next to a photo of Bambi. He has a venn diagram. This is actually pretty compelling.

Heeseung is a good speaker. He’s really good. The rest of his presentation goes smoothly, finishing it up with a list of references in APA format. Jake and Jay give him a round of applause. “If you have any questions, I’ll be more than happy to answer them,” he smiles.

“That was a fantastic presentation, Mr. Lee. I particularly liked the part when you demonstrated your ability to make very impressive, but also very alarming sounds with your fingers.” You flip through your very blank clipboard, nodding and throwing out hums at the times you deem appropriate. “I’d give you an A plus, but...I have one question for you.”

He nods. “Yes?”

“Heeseung, can you hug me?”

It evidently catches him off-guard, just as you predicted— persona of confidence crashing down like a waterfall as he stutters out, “Wh—what?”

You clear your throat. “Only cool people are able to hug me. I need to confirm that you’re cool.”

“I can hug you!” Jake declares right next to you.

You blindly reach out your arm to give him a head pat. “See. Jake says he can hug me so he must be pretty cool. Heeseung, you can do the same, can’t you?

There it is. He’s back to being nervous and you feel like your job here is done. “O–of course,” he stifles out, following it with a strained laugh of weak incredulity. “Why wouldn’t I be able to hug you?”

“Then prove it.” You stretch out your arms, ready to squeeze and be squeezed. “Give me a big ‘ol squeeze, pretty boy.”

You stay like that for ten seconds as Heeseung remains glued to his spot in front, eyes shaking and nipping at the dead skin on his lips. You let your arms fall back to your sides. “Okay. C minus. Next.” His expression quickly transforms into offense.

“I feel like this grading system is a scam.”

“No hug, no opinion. Sit your ass down,” you click your tongue, smacking him with the clipboard when he weakly trudges back and squeezes next to Beomgyu on the crowded seat to your left with the box of snacks occupying most of the fake log, even though there’s clearly enough space next to you because Jay already started walking to the front even without your instruction.

Jay does not give an introduction, only a rough clear of his throat and he opens his presentation with just a slide occupied with his face. Slide two is another picture of his face, only slightly zoomed out. The next one has the hashtag JWU. Then there’s a full body mirror selfie.

The rest of the presentation proceeds in the same manner— a wordless slideshow of what is possibly his Instagram feed and before you know it, it’s already over. “Okay,” you exhale, pressing your palms together in front of your lips. “I understand that you are indeed a very handsome individual, Mr. Park, but what does that have to do with the assigned topic?”

“The question is why I am the coolest one here,” he says. “I’m cool because I’m Jay Park.”

It falls quiet.

You finally break the silence.

“Shit, that’s a pretty compelling argument.”

“This is bullshit!” Sunghoon argues. “He didn’t even say anything! There was no discussion! He should be disqualified.”

Jay remains unfazed. He defends with irrefutable wisdom, “Sometimes pictures speak louder than words.”

“Damn.” You let your clipboard fall to your lap. “I’m giving you an A.”

“Fuck yeah.”

Your decision elicits outrage from some of your students. “How is he getting a higher grade than me?!” one of them raises.

“He’s getting a higher grade because he doesn’t think I have cooties, Heeseung.”

Heeseung throws his arms in the air in defeated frustration as Jay takes his snug seat right next to you again, a victorious smile gracing his face. You run your eyes through your scratch paper once more, pen tapping at the edge of the board. “Beomgyu, do you want to go next?” you ask, which is a mistake on your part because he starts acting just as obnoxious as Heeseung, which— if anything— just triggers your desire to make him crumble to his knees.

He even pulls out a lecture stick, testing it out by snapping it at full length on his palm. Is the fucker trying to go after your role as professor? Where the fuck did his glasses suddenly come from?

“Alright,” Beomgyu begins, the first slide displaying the words Why Choi Beomgyu is the coolest Housemate. “First thing’s first, does anyone in the audience know what my name is?”

“Oh, me!” Jake raises his hand. “Choi Beomgyu!”

“Correct!” The next slide appears when he hits the screen with the stick, revealing his name in a large, bold font with large spaces in between each syllable. “Choi. Beom. Gyu. Choi Beomgyu. Now, I’d like to direct your attention to this specific syllable right here—” he draws a circle around ‘Beom,’ “—what does Beom mean?”

“Offense,” Sunghoon answers. Beomgyu’s face scrunches up.

“What? Fuck, no. Another meaning— oh! Yes, Soobin hyung?”

“Tiger?”

His eyes brighten. “Exactly!”

The next slide is a photo of a tiger on a field of green grass, grooming its fur as Beomgyu passionately rattles on with fun facts about the animal. You have no idea where this is going. “Tigers are some of the most amazing creatures on the planet, they are the largest members of the cat family and are renowned for their power and strength. As the largest member of the cat family, Tigers are strong, powerful and one of nature's most feared predators—”

“Did you get that from a website?” Jay interrupts.

Beomgyu dismisses him. “Yes, I did, but that’s not the point. The point is—”

Next slide. A hit from his lecture stick. It’s more text. Beom = Tiger. Beom = Choi Beomgyu’s cute nickname. Tiger = Beomgyu.

“We have discussed that tigers are the coolest animals in the world. My name has tiger in it. Therefore I am the coolest person here. End of presentation. Thank you.”

He drops the stick to the ground and is about to walk away with Jake’s applause, but your penetrating stare stops him right before he reaches the crackling bonfire. You scribble on the clipboard before letting it settle face-down on your lap. You look up at him. “Beomgyu, are you a furry?”

Beomgyu freezes. He lets your question settle in his system before voicing out a very loud, very crunchy, “What the fuck?”

“Is this your way of telling us that you’re a furry?”

“No! What are you talking about?” he hisses. “I’m just saying that since tigers are cool, that means I’m also cool and—”

“So, you’re identifying with a tiger?” you cut him off.

He presses his lips together, cautious. “Yes…”

“Because you have the word tiger in your name?”

“Yes.”

“And because they’re cool?”

“Yes. We’ve established that alr—”

“Okay, so you’re a furry?”

“Ye— no!” he yells out. “I’m not a fucking furry!”

“Understood. You’re a furry in denial.” You write something down on the clipboard. Beomgyu’s shoulders slacken in defeat. “I’m giving you a B plus. Take a seat, Tigerboy.” Though he grumbles in distaste, he listens to you anyway, trudging deflatedly back to his seat next to the equally grumbly Heeseung.

There are two people left to be victimized. Jake looks excited, so you don’t want to indulge his positive emotions. “Sunghoon,” you call out with a pleasant smile. He squeezes his eyes shut and mutters something under his breath before forcing himself up the log without you having to tell him. “Good boy. Go set up your thing.”

Unlike the rest, Sunghoon doesn’t have a laptop or phone or flash drive with him when he awkwardly takes the presenter spot in front. He’s standing on the balls of his feet, arms tucked behind his back and lips tightly pressed together nervously. “Mr Park,” you pull down your clipboard. “You’re free to project your slides.”

“Well,” he coughs out. “The thing is.”

“Yes?”

He exhales loudly. “I don’t have any slides.” You raise a brow. “I don’t know how to use powerpoint.”

You look at him. “I see.”

“I don’t know how to use this projector, either.”

You pause.

“Okay. I understand.” He breathes out a sigh of relief. “Alright, next present—”

“Wait!” Sunghoon stops you. “I can still give my presentation, I don’t need any dumb slides! I’m just as cool, if not cooler than the rest of them, so you can’t just skip over me.”

“Mr. Park,” you start. “Unfortunately, one of the criteria for this presentation is the quality and organization of your slides. I do not see any slides being presented, Mr. Park. You may present next time once you’re fully prepared.”

“What about Jay?” he tries to reason. “He just showed you a preview of his camera roll!”

The man in question has his mouth hanging open, pausing in the middle of stuffing a nicely toasted marshmallow into his mouth. You let out a sigh. “He had philosophy, Mr. Park. Philosophy,” you explain. “Do you have philosophy? Are you confident that you can convince me with your words alone? Without the help of cute animals and pictures of your pretty face?”

At the mention of his face, his knitted brows of frustration quickly melt into faint pink hues dusting his cheeks. You sniffle a little, rubbing a finger under your nose as you flip through the next page of the clipboard that’s resting on your lap. “Meet me in my office after class,” you tell him. Sunghoon grunts and stomps back to his seat in defeat.

“This sucks balls.”

“You have quite a few options to pick and choose from here,” you hum. “Jake, you’re the last one up. Please tell me you have a presentation prepared.”

“I do, and it’s gonna blow your mind,” he grins.

“Looking forward to it.” You watch blankly as Jake runs up to the front to connect his laptop to the projector, an excited bounce in his every movement and you start wondering how you can shatter this one’s hopes and dreams.

He asks if he can start. You give him a nod. At the click of a button, something boomerangs into the blank screen with 2007 Windows graphics and animation. The atrocious mismatch of fonts say Jake Sim is the coolest one here and here’s why.

“Reason number one—” Jake starts his presentation, turning over to the next slide and your vision is attacked with more outdated graphics, more jarring transitions and animations. “—I’m super funny. Allow me to demonstrate.” He begins by clearing his throat. “What did the Italian chef get sent to jail for?”

“What?” you go along.

“Too much assault.”

An assault is also a very proper descriptor for his PPT aesthetic. An assault to your eyes. It’s like watching a car crash that you can’t look away from even if you try. Reason number two is that he has a great smile (he does). Reason number three is because he has a dog (he also does). Reason number four doesn’t exist because he miscounted and skipped over to Reason number five.

“And lastly, Reason number ten—”

He takes something out of his pockets. It’s a couple dozen bills being thrown into the air.

“I have a lot of money.”

The rest of the boys are quiet. Jake grows quiet too, chest rising and falling after that very enthusiastic presentation and his wide grin slowly melts into that muddled with nervousness and unease because you aren’t saying anything yet— just looking at him with stern eyes and a sharp gaze. “W-well?” he rasps. “How did I do…?”

“How much?” you ask. He cocks his head in confusion. “How much money do you have?”

“Oh.” Jake blinks, now understanding. “I don’t know but it’s a lot.”

Your eyes sparkle, posture straightening. “Will you give me some of that money?” The unease has left Jake and has now transferred to the other five boys around you. Oh boy. Oh no, their eyes all seem to be saying.

“Sure, why not.”

You clap your hands together. “Jake wins. Class dismissed. Good night.”

It doesn’t take long for chaos to break out.

Heeseung and Jay are demanding for a recount (there is nothing to count except the sweet, sweet cash you’ll be receiving) and Beomgyu accuses you of being a slave to capitalism (that should’ve been evident from how you tried to scam money out of them with nudity and a jar on your first week here). Soobin starts clearing up the projector set-up and Sunghoon is on his knees begging for another chance to do his presentation as you watch the digits on your phone screen bump up in real-time when Jake wires you a decent chunk from his bank account.

Another successful day at the residence. This heatwave is better than you thought.

HOME FOR THE BITCHLESS. © hannie-dul-set, 2023.

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rei-ismyname · 3 months ago

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EXCEPTIONAL X-MEN #3 FTA

After a pretty disappointing week of X-Men comics it's a delight to read and analyse Eve Ewing's Exceptional X-Men. The repeated issues I have with the other titles are just not present here and after three consistent bangers Ewing and co have my trust.

Emma is right

We pick up exactly where issue #2 left off, and this opening scene of all the main characters makes me realise how tightly the execution is. We know where each of them is at and (at least broadly what they want) - we're getting to know the kids organically. Where the other two books feel like action figures isolated from each other for no good reason, Kate Pryde's need to get away from the X-Men was established before the title even began. She just wants a normal life, to date girls and process her trauma. Emma Frost showing up to answer the call she refused throws her off immediately and they briefly scrap. The kids aren't just saying nothing because they didn't get a script today (hi Jubilee) - they're frozen by Emma. It's a small thing, but it's purposeful and flows elegantly.

Priti, Kate's housemate/friend from school, breaks up the fight for the most relatable reason - she doesn't want to lose the security deposit. Perhaps a sign that Kate doesn't fit into the 'norma'l world as much as she wants...or Emma just really knows how to push her buttons. I think Emma is hurting too, though she hides it under her usual scene-stealing exterior. I can't wait for more of their dynamic. Yeah, they'll almost certainly figure out a working relationship but their pain isn't being dismissed either. I feel like the pair are a successful version of what Gail Simone is doing with Rogue.

They stop fighting and have a little tea party, then Axo asks the question I'd been dreading the answer to - 'do you trust Emma or not?' Kate grew up being terrified of Emma with good reason and never let her forget why she did not trust her. Emma spent decades earning that trust and proving herself a hero, leader and teacher - but the First Krakoan Age had them grow closer than ever before. They worked well together and became friends, they were a force for good on Krakoa (mostly.) It's a shame that this is a metric, but two thumbs up for not rolling any of that back. These feel like the members of the resistance who were there for each other in Fall of X. Kate herself is regressing a little, but it's believable as a trauma response.

Kate doesn't want to train young mutants and Emma does. Prito even has a space they can use and the kids are keen! Everyone is happy then, right? Well, I think that's going to be the core tension for a while. Everyone except Kate wants this, but I think Kate needs this.

This 'getting to know you' circle does a lot of work in centering the young mutants, reminding us they're here to stay while showing us who they are and the beginning of their social dynamic. I haven't been a teen for a long time but their voices sound authentic, even to the point of highlighting that Bronze/Trista is a bit younger than the other two.

Agreed, do not read the comments.

They want to be doing this! One of the most challenging parts of being a teen is navigating peer groups. Solidarity in experiencing the same kind of otherness plus scary body changes is healthy, and it's lovely to chalk up a W despite the fact that 'people hate us.'

This issue also asks the question Rogue did in Uncanny #1, but as organic dialectic. It introduces the tension between self defense and being a superhero when you have powers - the difference between Emma and Kate externalised. Kate is excited despite herself until Emma shows up with costumes, and I think she's right to push back or at least be wary. But is this about her or the kids? It's not the most admirable contradiction but it's very human. They're both right that the old ways were flawed and they need to try something new.

Is she talking about Colossus? MF is not that gentle. Their costumes look amazing.

Unsurprisingly, Emma and Kate are a great team. There's tension underneath there, but they wouldn't be doing this if their friendship didn't run deep. New kids in relaunches past have often had their powers explained by Cerebro or a nosy telepath. Learning about it from their mouths as they're starting to use them in a controlled environment achieves the wiki entry, shows them learning to use them, and importantly gives us more of their personality.

Emma conjures up some Brood-like baddies and everyone freaks out but some growth is evident. It's Axo that figures out they're not real. Kate is not impressed. I doubt they'll throw down, but her sending the kids away feels like an extreme reaction. Good, she's got shit to say and hurts that need to be spoken. The kids don't leave, but we're left with all this tension in the air to be resolved next issue.

I LOVE that the three kids cuddle/huddle in the background.

Who better to break the ice (sorry) than Bobby Drake? Having him just fly in the window and cooling down the tension (sorry again) could feel random and silly but it works. These two have a lot of history and it makes sense that he'd seek her out. Kate has been turning her back on anyone X-related - will she freeze Bobby out too? The kids are awed by him and it's half the Marauders back together, so I don't think he'll get the cold shoulder.

I feel very confident in calling Exceptional X-Men the best X-Men book in From The Ashes. It's got an honesty and sincerity to it while remixing the hits of first arcs and adding plenty of new. The art style is colourful and emotive which adds so much to a book taking people's feelings seriously. If you pick up nothing else, this is the one.

#exceptional x men #x comics #kitty pryde #emma frost #bobby drake #bronze #axo #iceman #marvel #x men #comics #trista marshall #Alejandro mateo luna #thao tran #melee #priti patel #from the ashes #eve l ewing

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awkwardauthorwrites · 1 year ago

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Home - Part One

Word Count: 900

Themes: fluff, pining

Summary: Eight years have passed since Y/N Y/L/N has graduated from Hogwarts and she is now a notorious poacher hunter, along with her best friend Poppy Sweeting. After a particularly nasty injury on the job Y/N receives an owl from Professor Weasley with an offer to be the new Professor of the Beasts class. What could go wrong with Sebastian Sallow as the Potions Professor?

Warnings: Potential spoilers for HL. All characters are aged up and around 24/25 years old

1st August, 1900

Dear Miss Y/L/N,

I hope this letter finds you well. In case you hadn’t heard, Professor Bai Howin has chosen to retire from teaching this year, leaving the position of Professor for our Beasts class open. Professor Howin has submitted a glowing recommendation for why you should be the one to take over her position. We could not think of a better person to take over this class, considering your exploits to handle the country’s poachers. Please reply at your earliest convenience to let us know if you are interested in the position.

I look forward to hearing from you soon,

Matilda Weasley, Deputy Headmistress

7th August, 1900

Dear Professor Weasley,

While I’m saddened to hear Professor Howin will be retiring, it brings me great joy to know she advocated for me to be her replacement. I humbly accept your offer to be the new Professor of Beasts.

I look forward to seeing you soon,

Y/N Y/L/N

9th August, 1900

Dear Miss Y/L/N,

We are delighted to hear your acceptance to join the faculty at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry as our Beasts Professor. As I am sure you are aware, the term starts on September 1st, but feel free to arrive earlier. We look forward to seeing you again.

Yours sincerely,

Matilda Weasley (Deputy Headmistress)

Poppy was watching her expectantly from across the kitchen table, practically sitting on the edge of her seat as she waited for Y/N to finish reading the latest letter.

“Well?”

“I got the job,” Y/N laughed as Poppy jumped up to hug her. “I don’t know why you’re acting like it’s a surprise, they practically handed it to me.”

“We celebrate every accomplishment in this house,” Poppy reminded her as she pulled away. “Oh, we should tell Imelda! She’s going to be so happy for you.”

“Happy I’m not risking my life and limbs anymore, you mean,” Y/N stretched her right leg out carefully. A well-aimed diffindo had been shot at her a couple of weeks back by a particularly angry poacher, and even though the wounds had healed (thanks to a lot of essence of Dittany) she had been left with a nasty scar and a slight throb in her thigh if she did too much.

“Yes well, I’d love to say at least you’ll be safer at Hogwarts but…”

“Considering my track record it’s probably not true?” Y/N finished the sentence with a teasing smile. “Don’t worry Poppy, I promise not to get into too much trouble.”

“I take it you don’t know who the Potions Professor has been for the past few years then.”

“Sharp retired?”

“He took a sabbatical to do some consultation work with the Aurors and decided he preferred dark wizards over teenagers.”

“Who took over from him?”

“Sebastian.”

“Sebastian?” Y/N’s hand stilled as she reached for her coffee mug. “As in Sebastian Sallow?”

“Do you know any other Sebastians?” Poppy gave her a coy smile as she took a sip of her tea.

“I’m surprised Sharp let him take over.”

“It was a rather begrudging handover, but apparently he’s doing quite well and is a favourite amongst the students. Although that could just be because half of the girls have a crush on him.”

“Ah yes,” Y/N rolled her eyes playfully. “The infamous Sallow charm.”

“Remember it all too well, do you?”

“Don’t start, Poppy.” Y/N sighed but there was a small smile playing on the corners of her mouth as she thought about her former housemate and close friend. The first few years after they all graduated Hogwarts Y/N had kept in touch regularly with the friends she had made, but as it often does life got in the way and the contact became less and less frequent. It was hard to keep in touch with someone when she was off-grid for weeks at a time when scouting out poacher camps, and if she didn’t live and work with Poppy she doubted the brunette would be next to her either.

They still got together for the larger life events - they had all attended Ominis and Anne’s wedding a few years ago, and went out to celebrate when Imelda snagged a spot on the Holyhead Harpies - but it had been a while since she had seen them all. She missed Anne’s baby shower the year before; although if she had it her way she would have much rather been there as opposed to in a hospital cot in Saint Mungo’s with a decent chunk of her left arm missing (another scar ran across her forearm diagonally, but the Healers had done an excellent job to regrow the limb, and she was left with no pain in the arm whatsoever).

Y/N couldn’t help but smile as her thoughts drifted to Sebastian and the mischief they used to get up to when they were at school. Sneaking into the Restricted Section had become one of their favourite pastimes after the events of their fifth year, if only to say that they still could. She supposed they would have to behave themselves now that they were both Professors.

“I know that smile. Tell me again how you’re not going to get into any trouble this year?” Poppy laughed at the look on her face.

“Oh, shut up.”

#sebastian sallow fic #sebastian sallow x mc #sebastian x mc #sebastian x reader #sebastian sallow #sebastian sallow x reader #sebastian sallow fanfiction #sebastian sallow x y/n #sebastian sallow x you #sebastian sallow x fem!reader #hogwarts school of witchcraft and wizardry #hogwarts game #hogwarts #hogwarts legacy #awkwardauthormasterlist #awkwardauthorwrites #awkwardauthor

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deathbyoctopi · 1 year ago

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Another year, another rec list with some of the best xuexiao I've read these last 12 months!! >w<

And like last year's rec list, this isn't either exhaustive or limited to fics posted in 2023. It's just the things I have found, which I liked, and want to spread the love about ^-^

Here's, in no particular order, my favourite xuexiao (and occasional songxuexiao) fics. Also, take a look down below for other mxtx or danmei pairings!

You're mine by twilightshards. This is a phenomenal oneshot where Xue Yang does not wait patiently to take revenge on Baixue temple, but rather follows the annoying daoshi out of Jinlintai as soon as he gets off the hook. He catches up with them a couple of nights later, only to find Xiao Xingchen in a... compromised position. While moaning Xue Yang's name.

The tamed by @fieri-sentio-et-excrucior. Last year I recommended the wonderful The Prisoner of Jinlintai fic, and now we got a sequel to that!!! Exciting stuff, very exciting... Xiao Xingchen saves Xue Yang from his botched execution and Song Lan is there raging at what he thinks is a psycho taking full advantage of his friend's kindness. Absolutely loved it!

蛇 - shé by shoujorei. A spectacular oviposition fic with blind snake hybrid Xiao Xingchen and enemy-posing-as-housemate Xue Yang, who really didn't know what he was volunteering for when he offered to "help" daozhang with his next heat. An absolute delight!

good lies go bad by istilfearkanna One of the Yi City what-if's I like so much, showing what would happen if Song Lan is successful in killing Xue Yang and, as per canon, vows not to tell his friend anything. So naturally you have Xiao Xingchen happy about his rekindled friendship, but also deeply worried about his missing friend... breaks my heart every time T-T (thx lionfish13 for the rec!!!)

Down in the black sea by @10holmes. A mermaid AU which has to be the sweetest Xue Yang /Xiao Xingchen tale I've seen in a while, with xxc being a revered merman saving the life of a handsome pirate... without realizing that is the infamous Xue Yang, mermaid hunter and slayer of plenty of his kinsmen!! But of course, they fall in love. It's downright adorable (and deliciously angst-inducing!) Also, the worldbuilding in this one is marvelous!

promises, promises by an anonymous author. Time travel fic!!! This one follows Song Lan trying to right the wrongs of his life in the easiest way possible: that is, to eliminate Xue Yang before he has the chance to hurt anyone else. Except... he gets distracted saving the life of a poor child with a mangled left hand. Still ongoing, and XXC isn't in the picture yet, but the new chapters are highly anticipated and the writing style is so, so, so good.

the non-con opition by the same anonymous author. How do I know? None of your business!! But the awesome writing style continues here, as well as the song lan/xue yang being brought together by fate is just as awesome. It promises to be songxuexiao eventually, for now it's a delightful soulmates/omegaverse with alpha!Song Lan in rut nonconning the hell out of a mysterious omega with a foul mouth.

Sant Xingchen i el drac by @ergbolli45 A little sweet adorable spin of a traditional legend very dear to my heart. It's winter, the Yi City crew are bored around their campfire, and A-Qing wants a story. So, Xue Yang offers to tell a tale from some exotic land on the west about a little princess, a brave knight and a fearsome dragon.

sticking their dick in crazy by Sectionladvivi. I'm not generally one for modern AUs, but this one is such a stupid and shameless pwp that it skyrocketed through my rankings XD SongXueXiao, and oddly enough, the crazy one alluded in the title isn't Xue Yang!! Delicious and filthy. No thoughts, just horn.

Priceless by @fieri-sentio-et-excrucior. Another modern AU!! but how can I resist, when this is Xue Yang breaking and entering happily married songxiao's domicile, who were getting ready for a very sexy night... and end up, Song Lan tied up and forced to watch the criminal fuck Xiao Xingchen senseless (and unaware it's not his husband the one in bed with him!). Evil and sexy, another wonderful fic by such a wonderful author <3

hands, reaching out by @neriine. A retelling of Yi City but with mutation-like special powers, making it especially interesting when it comes to xuexiao's backstory (song lan is also there, in the background) and the night hunts. It's sweet, sweet, Xue Yang as always a murder gremlin who thinks he has it all under control when the first thing that he doesn't know half-way about is his own feelings... Very well-written, and creative in its worldbuilding!

THIS lovely picture is not from a fic (well, not yet, unless I manage to do something cute with it >w<) but serves as an example of all the wonderful pic manips @wangxianswuji has made, which maybe it's cheating a bit for a fanfic rec post, but. They're just so good. Go check their profile and drool with me ^-^

and speaking of art, I can't not mention @wrathyforest's art done for the fic Now that I see you, particularly one of my favourite moments with Xiao Xingchen defending Xue Yang from an undesirable... this fic was in last year's rec list, and very deservingly so!

ANd now for the other ships!

Love of my life, don't hurt me by @foreheadkissesforzewu-jun This is a delightful and spectacularly cruel tale of unrequired love by a gallant cultivator spiriting his soulmate away. At least, that's what Wen Zhuliu sees it, when in fact this fic is him kidnapping and brutally assaulting Lan Xichen, while following the events of the Wen war and the sunshot campaign. Loved it, but PLEASE read the tags.

Jade pillar, bending like reed by awkwardrecline. dark jades (and dark!Lan Xichen in particular) are so so sooo very dear to my heart... this fic has it all, a tyrannical Lan clan leader who will abuse his power left right and center, a jealous didi who wants nothing but possessive love, so much smut everywhere... Cloud Recesses is never as sexy as when the jades are so unrestrained, I love it! ^-^

My future mommy's mistake by tenwudzvrs. Is this fic pretty much what many people consider nono kinks? mpreg, noncon, xue yang being an utter dick? and do I love it precisely because of it? XD pregnant Wei Wuxian goes home one evening but comes across a ruffian in a back alley, who does everything to him up to and including speaking with his husband through the phone while nailing him to the wall. Lan Zhan isn't happy. I am delighted.

What brother needs, brother gets by @foreheadkissesforzewu-jun. a modern AU jadecest pwp which... to be honest, it's pure oral fixation Lan Xichen going to his didi after he got dumped by some idiot and Lan Wangji doing the best he can to comfort him. It's ridiculously shameless and incredibly enjoyable, just to see these two come to the conclusion that the best course of action is to fuck each other!! XD Wei Ying will find a surprise when he gets back home from his travels and finds his husband has collected another husband...

furious love by @alipeeps. From Till the end of the moon, a very nasty and wonderfully in-canon insight on the disastrous marriage between Ye Xiwu (the original) and Tantai Jin. Let's just say she decides to take her marital rights to the extreme, and using the very same lust potion that originally landed her in that marriage to begin with! Tantai Jin is one of those characters that truly suffer beautifully, and suffer he does here!

a fire, made high and wild by @judiwench. A fic for Sleuth of Ming Dynasty, which is a series that wormed its way into my soul. Sui Zhou desperately searches Tang Fan (him, please, him, not his corpse) only to find him... less than good. I was seriously debating between this one and is the festering that kills a man by the same author, but... Agh, they are both amazing snippets at their obvious mutual love, and the trauma that brings it to light. Highly recommend the series and these fics!

a long sleepless night by @dying-redshirt-noises. This one is from Mysterious Lotus Casebook, a wonderful three-way pwp in the Girls' Mansion where Fang Duobing gets doused with sex pollen... of course, Li Lianhua wants to help, but there is not much he can do with his yang disfunction. How handy to have someone like a-Fei nearby to rail the young master, then!! It is sexy and wonderfully in-canon, and I'm all for it.

And I'm probably still forgetting a few fics, there is nowhere near enough jadecest here compared to what I know I have read and enjoyed... Shame on me again for forgetting to bookmark more often than not.

I'm a bit sad that I barely found any of this year's authors on tumblr (don't know if they don't have accounts here, or do under different usernames) so if anyone knows about them, repost bc I'd like to engage and give them my most sincere praise.

Also, I will say I purposefully avoided tgcf fics for fear of spoilers until I read the whole book, so... next year I'm surely filling this with hualian and such!! >w<

Finally, since we're at it, I just will get a bit of self-promotion with the 5 fics I liked most of what I wrote on this year. I'm IMMENSELY PROUD to have produced 36 fics in this year of our lord 2023 (3 per month!!! omfg!!) and while I can't claim favourites, these might be the ones I'm most proud of:

Some kind of dream. Xuexiao roleplaying after a night hunt, with some nice power dynamics, very mutually enthusiastic consensual non-con, and Xue Yang all but confessing that he is Xiao Xingchen's worse enemy... Smut and fluff, all in one. I do love the 3 year bliss in Yi City, and all the in-canon opportunities it offers!!!

Incensed nights. An INSANE endeavor for kinktober, with WangXian dreaming each night a different cozy, cruel, smutty or simply crack-y scenario. 31 fics for the price of one!! multiple pairings, I can't stress how much Lan Zhan dreams of his brother, or wei wuxian's mind follows other ships... Extremely happy with this one, and I nearly went crazy, seriously.

Shards of morning nights and forbidden kisses. My attempt at jadecest, niecest and omegaverse, all in one. ANd quite successful, might I say! Both clan leaders Lan and Nie want to find a way to claim and marry their respective omega didis, but something something clan rules forces them to play a delicate and sexy political game. It ends in a very nice orgy XD

A Comedy of Yi City Errors. This one, I'm particularly happy with the sheer amount of planning and interlocking plotpoints it has, with Song Lan coming across Xiao Xingchen, a-Qing and Xue Yang without even realizing. I'm told it is quite funny... And I like it very much >w<

...what did you call it again? the only one not mdzs in the list, this is for Till the end of the moon and it's yet again Tantai Jin suffering in his so beautiful way! It was done for an exchange, following the premise: take a canon even and make it worse. Do you think ttj had it bad in the series, with the servants mistreating him in Ye Manor? Ya have seen nuffin!!!

Once again, thanks for reading, thanks to all authors for writing, and let's have a wonderful 2024 full of fics and love!!!

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joanquill · 2 years ago

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"Wanna try that thing they do in movies?"

hello! i would like prompt number 11, the character is William James Moriarty x reader, the relationship is romantic, and the type is fluff. and.. can you make william teasing more? i thoght hes the type who like do that, lol. so i wanna see more about he doing flirt hahaha, thank you🫶🏻

William James Moriarty

A/N: Since this is Victorian Era times, I just used books instead of movies. Tag/s: Established Relationship

You hummed to yourself in delight as you threw another blueberry in your mouth, enjoying your snack as you walked back to the library, excited to return where you left off on your book.

"Huh?" you raised a brow as you looked at your spot, your book missing on the table.

Putting your snack plate on the table, you knelt down and looked around, but your book was nowhere to be found.

"Oh no..." you muttered, quickly getting up and hitting your head on the table.

"Ah..!" you hissed, rubbing your head as you looked around the library.

You quickly looked around the library, scanning every inch of the floor and bookcases for any sign of your book.

But it was nowhere to be found.

You could feel the cold sweat dripping off you as you accepted your book was gone.

Normally, you wouldn't care since you misplace your things now and then, but this book, in particular, was... a bit embarrassing.

It wasn’t anything obscene, just… Embarrassing.

You were already teased as a hopeless romantic, and this will just confirm it.

'Okay... Let's just retrace our steps...' you thought, dreading if one of your housemates found your book, let alone see its contents.

You groaned as you walked around, desperate to find your book before anyone else did.

"Who would even be in the library-" you abruptly stopped as you got your answer, sharply turning around as you went straight to William's office.

"William!" you shouted as you slammed open his office door, seeing the man in his office chair with your book in hand.

"(Y/N)," he sweetly greeted, "To what do I owe the pleasure?" he asked, making a vein in your head almost pop.

"My book?" you pointed, walking up to him with a frown.

"Ah," he hummed, giving it back, "Apologies... I was curious about what type of book you would keep coming back to," he smiled, making your face grow warm.

You gulped as you took a deep breath, glaring at him.

"...How much did you read...?"

"All the way to the end," he answered with a smile, making you internally scream as you went down on your knees.

You took a deep breath as you stood up, fixing your hair and clothes.

"Listen," you started with a huff as William looked up at you with innocent eyes.

"There is nothing wrong with reading these types of romance novels... All right?" you clarified, feeling your cheeks heat up as he kept watching you.

"It's completely normal. Okay!?"

"Of course, it was an adorable story." he agreed, but you pursed your lips at his demeanor, "And the pages you dog-eared where the man-"

"-Okay, stop. Stop! Stop!" you shouted, covering your ears, "Stabbing me in the back would hurt less...!" you groaned, curling into a ball on the floor.

William softly chuckled as he covered his mouth, turning away from you.

"(Y/N)?" Louis called out, knocking on the door.

"Did something happen? I heard you shouting," he asked, clearly worried as you quickly stood up.

"Yes, everything's fine," you reassured with a smile as William agreed, sending him off.

When Louis was gone, you tightened your jaw as you turned to William, glaring daggers at him.

"Not one word to the others... Got it?" you muttered, making him look up at you with a sly smile.

"Certainly, my dear. However..." William trailed off as he stood up, walking up to you.

Your breath hitched as you stepped back, your blood turning into ice as he got closer, "...I would like for you to do something for me in return," he offered, a dangerous red glint in his eyes.

"...What?"

"Shall we try some of the scenes in your book? The ones you seem to favor the most."

#yuukoku no moriarty x reader #moriarty the patriot x reader #valentines #william moriarty x reader #william james moriarty #william moriarty #jq valentines event

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mintyelbows · 2 months ago

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How did my Drarries spend the holidays?

I've never done anything like this before, but I'll give it a try! Thanks for the tag @its-the-allure!!

like it's the only thing i'll ever do

Over the holidays, Lily insists on Draco coming over for dinner to properly meet him. Harry is both so happy and absolutely mortified by how well his mother and boyfriend get along, especially when Lily pulls out photo albums from when Harry was a baby. Draco's delighted grin is blinding and Harry can't help but stare in awe, even despite his embarrassment being the source of everyone's entertainment. After dinner, before Draco goes home through the Floo, he kisses Harry on the cheek in a sweet goodbye. James and Sirius don't shut up about it for the rest of the night, and Lily insists Draco comes over again as soon as possible, already planning to buy the boy his own stocking for their house.

you again, my love

With Hogwarts out for the holidays and Draco taking the same time off at Harry's insistence, they stay in bed for as long as they wish. Every night, they find each other in their dreams, and every morning, they recount them for each other in soft whispers and gentle touches. On Christmas, Harry miraculously wakes up first, cooks his fiancé a breakfast filled with all his favorite foods, and laughs when Draco vows to propose to him again after taking his first bite.

hollowed

This one doesn't have to be read as Drarry, but if you wanted to interpret it that way (like I ofc do), I imagine they would be in the 'friends' stage by Christmas at the very least. Draco and Harry grow used to seeking out each other's company whenever they're feeling too much, and with many other 8th years celebrating Christmas with a lot of holiday spirit, they keep themselves tucked away together in a quiet corner of the common room. Harry spreads out on a small sofa and rests his tired eyes, a warm blanket wrapped around him, his head on Draco's lap. Draco holds open the book he's halfway through with one hand, his other idly combing through Harry's curls. Nobody finds this odd.

sweet treatment

Harry is nervous about the present he got Draco for Christmas, intimidated by how good of a gifter the Slytherin is. Getting into his head as he tends to do, Harry gives Draco his present the night before Christmas, wanting to get it over with in the safe solitude of their dorm room. Draco opens it between where they both lay on Harry's bed and gasps when he finds a box of his favorite caramel candies, discontinued years ago when the only shop that made them had closed. Harry falls asleep that night with his lips thoroughly kissed and tasting of caramel.

private displays of affection

Despite his aversion to public affection, Draco lets Harry cling to him as much as he wants over the holidays. On Christmas morning, Harry drags him to the 8th year common room and cuddles up next to him on the sofa by the fire while their remaining yearmates pass out gifts. Draco gives Harry another gift in the privacy of his bedroom, and if his silencing charms were any weaker, everyone in the castle would be able to hear how much his boyfriend loves it.

Viewer's Discretion

With his parents wanting to visit distant relatives in France, Draco chooses to stay at Hogwarts for the holidays. He ignores the disappointed letters from his father, unbothered by the usual scorn, and spends his days reading and visiting Hogsmeade with his housemates. He manages to sneak away on Christmas Eve, apparating to Harry's house and spending the night testing the durability of Harry's bed frame before falling asleep in the comforting hold of strong arms. What an interesting way to meet your boyfriend's family for the first time, naked in their son's bed on Christmas day...

poor taste (in everything but you)

Even though they are both on-call over the holidays, Harry and Draco make the most of their time together, cuddling and doing other disgustingly sweet things between bouts of pleasurable intimacy. Draco gifts Harry plenty of toys for them to use, spending Christmas morning on Harry's lap and letting him test several of them out. Harry, however, gifts Draco a key to his house and asks him to move in, and despite pretending he hates how couple-y they've both become, Draco tears up as he accepts and doesn't let go of Harry for the rest of the day.

I hope I did that right. XD I have no one to tag since Allure <3 is the only fandom friend I've made so far, but I guess I can say that if you haven't done this yet, count this as your tag! I'd love to read what y'all write!! Happy holidays, everyone!! :)

#drarry #draco x harry #hp fanfic #fanfic #fanfiction #ao3 fanfic #harry potter #draco malfoy #fanfic rec #christmas #self rec #drarry fanfic #drarry fic

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boxofbadaddiction · 3 days ago

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The Price of Perception

Neville Longbottom x Slytherin!Reader

Warnings: Bullying mention. Anxiety. Angsty.

Prompt: #22. With a slytherin reader who likes him and tries to be good at herbology but she really struggles with it?

“Why don’t you stop worrying about trying to sound smart all the time, and just be yourself”.

Summary: Neville has a strained relationship with Slytherins, which has led to him distancing himself from all students sporting Green ties. So, what is he to do when he suddenly finds himself paired to one for the day?

A/N: This doesn't really reflect the prompt well, and I've never written for Neville before.

Neville’s stomach churned as he made his way down the dimly lit corridors, his fingers gripping the strap of his book bag so tightly his knuckles had gone white. He hated Potions. He hated that he couldn’t seem to get it right no matter how hard he tried. But most of all, he hated that he had been assigned a tutor.

A Slytherin tutor, of all people.

He had heard stories about Y/n. She was known by all. Powerful, quick-witted, popular, and far too clever for her own good. Most of her housemates carried an air of superiority, typical for that of a Slytherin, she did not. She was humble, and kind.

For Neville, although she didn’t seem cruel like the others, it didn’t stop the nervous pit from forming in his stomach at the thought of working with her.

He always tried his hardest to stay clear of the Slytherin students. Now, thanks to his rotten luck, Snape had paired him with one. On second thought, maybe it wasn't his luck... maybe it was just Snape delighting in torturing him yet again.

His mind raced with anxieties as he neared the potions lab.

What if she laughed at him? What if she got frustrated and gave up? What if she told the others how hopeless he was? What if she sabotaged him rather than help? What if she was as ruthlessly cruel to him like so many others!

By the time he reached the dungeon classroom, his palms were sweaty, and his heart was hammering in his chest. He took a deep breath before pushing open the heavy wooden door. Stepping inside to find Y/n, already alone at a wooden desk amidst their classmates, she idly tapped her quill against her parchment as she waited for him.

The flickering candlelight of the dungeon classroom cast long shadows across the stone walls, the air thick with the scent of crushed herbs and bubbling cauldrons. "This is something straight out of my nightmares!" Neville whined, internally.

More than halfway through the class, Y/n sat, watching Neville intently. Not bothered by the due assignment, her mind was elsewhere. She had finished her own potion and accompanying essay days ago, leaving her with little to do but observe. Her fingertips mimicked the stirring motions of the potion as he worked, lazily tracing circles on the desk as she watched her partner struggle through his latest attempt at the simple potion.

Nev - because she had long since abandoned calling him by his full name, despite his protests - stood over his cauldron. His brow scrunched in deep concentration. His hands trembled slightly as he measured out the required fluxweed, his lips moving as he muttered the instructions under his breath. He scribbled down different observations for his essay: How the potion’s consistency wavered with each stir, the slight change in colour that might indicate a mistake, the way the ingredients interacted when added too quickly. His quill scratched hurriedly against the parchment. Every few seconds, his brow furrowed deeper, frustration mounting as he crossed out yet another sentence, unsatisfied with his own words. The pile of discarded parchment beside him grew steadily, a testament to his belief that nothing he wrote was ever good enough. The stress was written all over his face, his shoulders tense as if the weight of the entire subject rested solely on them.

Y/n knew he tried too hard. He overthought every single step, second-guessed every motion, convinced that no matter what he did, he would still fail. It was heartbreaking to see how little faith he had in himself.

"Nev, why don't you stop worrying about trying to sound smart and just be yourself?" she said gently, leaning closer so her words wouldn't carry to the other students. She rested her hand softly atop his that was resting on the counter. "You're better at this than you think. You just... need to trust yourself."

His cheeks turned a shade of pink she found endearing, and he ducked his head and snatched away his hand, pretending to be focused on stirring his cauldron. "I- I'm not trying to sound smart!" he muttered, though the way he glanced at her from under his lashes said otherwise.

She smiled, shaking her head. "You don’t have to impress anyone, Nev. Least of all me, I already think you're brilliant."

He dropped the stirring rod, attracting attention from their classmates at the harsh clattering noise that echoed off the walls as it hit the floor. Hurriedly and awkwardly, he snatched the implement from the ground, slapping it on the table.

The gathered bearing eyes turned back to their own projects, a chorus of his name echoing in a whisper throughout the room, disapproval evident in its tone. Sensing the judgment, his anxiety spiked again. Upset with himself, he released a heavy sigh before haphazardly tossing the stirrer back into the pot.

Only, in his upset, he'd mistakenly grabbed his wand from the desk instead.

Y/n bit back a laugh as he scrambled to fish it out, hands fumbling in his rush. "I-uh... thanks," he mumbled, avoiding her gaze entirely now.

If only he knew how much she meant it.

Truth be told, Y/n harboured a secret crush on him. One she kept tucked away behind stolen glances and gentle reassurances.

It was completely out of her control! The way she found him kind, and sweet, and adorably funny in ways he probably didn’t even realise. When he wasn’t drowning in self-doubt, and he spoke about things he was adamantly passionate about with such great confidence, like Herbology, she saw just how brilliant he truly was, too. There was a warmth to him, an earnestness that set him apart.

He never sought to impress for the sake of it like many in Slytherin house did. Never wore arrogance like a badge of honour. Instead, he simply wanted to be enough. Little did he know, in her eyes, he already was.

"If only he could see himself... the way I do." Y/n pondered.

The bell rang, and Neville couldn't get out of there fast enough. He practically sprinted out the door before anyone else, desperate to escape.

At lunch in the Great Hall, Y/n was caught in her thoughts. The loud chattering of the gathered students drowned out her friends’ conversation nearby- not that she was particularly interested in their discussion.

Her mind was still on Potions, replaying every moment, every interaction she’d had with Nev. It had been the first time she had truly spoken to him. Usually, the second he saw any Slytherin, he ran the opposite direction. Which, you can imagine, made it difficult to strike up ANY kind of relationship with him, let alone a romantic one at that.

She couldn’t exactly blame him. Slytherins didn’t have the best reputation, and many in her house had done little to prove otherwise. He likely thought she was no different. They never shared more than glances in the corridors. But today was different. Today, she had spoken to him, encouraged him, seen the way his cheeks flushed under praise he clearly didn’t know how to handle. And she wanted more of that. She wanted to break through whatever wall he had built between himself and her house.

Resting her chin on her elbow, she stared down at her barely touched meal, lost in contemplation. How could she spend more time with him? How could she get him to see she wasn’t like the others!

A sudden shove to her elbow from a friend snapped her back to reality. "Come on," Melanie urged through a mouthful of bread roll, "it’s time for Herbology." So fixed on her lovestruck problems, she had completely missed the bell chime, signalling next period.

Reluctantly, she stood between the table and bench seat. She wasn't in the mood to tame Tentacula Vines. They're so snappy!

Then it hit her.

Herbology! Neville's favourite subject. An idea sparked in her mind, and suddenly, she was very enthused to get to class. Grinning widely, she snatched her satchel from beneath the table and all but launched over the bench into a jog for the greenhouses.

The humid air clung to Y/n's skin as she stepped into the hothouse, thick with the scent of damp earth and fresh foliage. The soft rustling of leaves filled the space, mingling with the occasional snap of a wayward vine and the murmured discussions of students tending to their plants. She scanned the room in search of her crush. Quickly spotting him busy at work with his own plants, at the opposite end of the crowded class. Y/n's friends distracted her before she had time to be too disappointed, yanking her over to where their own vines awaited.

Y/n observed her own. It was gorgeous! Incredibly healthy, and incredibly feisty. Snapping at her prodding instruments with great ferocity. 'Professor Sprout is never going to believe I need help in class if I show her this!' she pouted.

Suddenly, her attention was brought to a small round of laughter from her friends beside her. Melanie's plant was dead as disco- its leaves drooped pathetically, the once vibrant green now a dull, sickly yellow. The brittle stems crackled as she prodded them, and an unmistakable scent of decay wafted up, wrinkling noses nearby. The group took pleasure in teasing her for her failed assignment. Melanie shrugged them off with an exaggerated eye roll and a witty comment back before throwing it in the trash.

A subtle smirk appeared on Y/n's face. Quietly, she placed her plant back on the shelf, carefully pushing the pot to the back of the shelf and hiding her name. She casually fished the dead thing from the trash before anyone could notice, replacing Melanie’s name with her own. "This will do nicely," she thought to herself.

Y/n approached Professor Sprout, holding the remains of her friend’s plant. Mrs. Sprout was engrossed in the root system of some exotic plant she'd purchased 'for education purposes'.

She gave two taps on her teachers' shoulder, "Excuse me, Professor, I’m really worried about this," she confided, her voice laced with concern. "I think I might need extra help... I don’t want to fail."

Professor Sprout started to reply before she was faced with Y/n's supposed assessment. "That's preposterous, dear girl, you've never failed a class a day in your-" A mighty gasp tore from the professor's throat, cutting off her words as she took in the sight of the miserable plant in her student's hands. "Oh my-"

Professor Sprout gave her an encouraging smile. "Well, lucky for you, I know just the person to help. Longbottom!" she sang. Neville, who had been carefully pruning a plant, stiffened at the sound of his name. "You'll be tutoring Y/n in Herbology next break," Sprout announced cheerfully. "I expect you will do best to stop her murdering any more plants" she half-joked.

Neville's attention turned to Y/n, who gave a small smile and wave to him across the greenhouse. Neville looked as though he’d rather be anywhere else on break.

"Great". he thought. Now he had to tutor her. Guess it wasn't Snape earlier... he really did have that terrible luck.

The greenhouse was quieter now, with only the gentle rustling of leaves and the soft, distant chatter of students passing the greenhouse outside. The humid air still thick with the scent of damp earth, and the occasional sharp tang of crushed stems. Golden afternoon light streamed through the glass panels, casting dappled shadows across the wooden workbenches. At which the pair were huddled.

Neville swallowed hard, shifting uncomfortably as he glanced at Y/n who watched him sweetly. The idea of tutoring anyone, let alone her, made his stomach twist. It wasn’t that she’d been anything but polite, but she was still... well, her. A Slytherin. The relentless bullying he’d endured from Slytherins over the years had left its mark. Their sneering laughter and cutting remarks echoing in his memory. He could still recall the way they’d tripped him in corridors, mocked his clumsy spellwork, and made him the butt of cruel jokes. Though, he didn't have to try hard to recall those instances as many had happened recently. It was hard to shake the instinct to brace himself for ridicule, even when Y/n had done nothing to deserve his wariness.

He swallowed thickly at the sensation of his throat drying. His palms felt clammy, and he resisted the urge to wipe them on his robes. “Um… so, the key is to move slowly,” he began, his voice wavering slightly. He cleared his throat, trying again. “If you act too suddenly, they-”

Neville and Y/n stood together, surrounded by tentacular plants that lazily curled and twisted in response to their movements. He was explaining the best way to handle the vines without provoking them when one suddenly snapped towards Y/n’s wrist. Instinctively, Neville reached out, his fingers brushing hers as he gently guided her hand away.

Her breath hitched, her heart thudding in her chest. "You really do know what you're doing," she murmured, watching him with quiet admiration.

His ears turned pink, mind catching up with body, he promptly dropped - if not threw - her hands from his. Regardless, Y/n smiled, tucking this moment away in her memory. "It's just... practice," he mumbled. It was strange, he thought. How easy it was for him to touch her though he told himself he should know better.

As time went on, Y/n grew more confident in her 'lesson' with Professor Longbottom. She held back a smile at the title when it had come to mind. Neville, however, still had his walls up, and she wondered why. She had never done anything to make him dislike her.

She perched herself on one of the workbenches as Neville busied himself with another plant, meticulously inspecting its leaves while she worked on making mindless conversation. He answered her questions, short and to the point, but never asked any of his own. She could see the tension in the way he moved, the way he refused to look at her for too long, as if expecting something... though she couldn't figure out what.

"You always seem so at home in here," she commented, watching as he carefully trimmed away a dead leaf. "Like you belong among the plants more than anywhere else."

Neville hesitated, his fingers stilling for a moment before he cleared his throat. "Plants don’t judge you," he muttered, voice quiet but firm. Y/n tilted her head, curious but careful. "Neither do I, you know." Neville glanced at her then, just for a second, before returning his focus to the plant in front of him. He didn’t reply, but something in the air shifted like the first rumble of a storm.

She frowned, leaning forward slightly, unwilling to let the silence settle. "You know, I don’t get it," she said, watching him closely. "I’ve been nothing but nice to you, and yet you barely look at me. Did I do something to upset you?" her question was sincere. Neville tensed, his grip tightening on the shears in his hand. "No." "Then what is it?" she pressed, frustration seeping into her voice. "You talk to everyone else just fine, but the second I try to have a conversation, you shut down".

Neville took a deep breath then exhaled sharply, setting the shears down with more force than necessary. He finally turned to her, eyes shadowed with something unreadable. "Why do you want me to want to talk to you?" he asked, the words clipped, defensive.

Y/n blinked, caught off guard. "What?"

"You keep trying," he said, shaking his head. "Why? Why does it matter to you if I talk to you or not?" Her mouth opened, but no answer came. Because I like you she wished to answer. Because she wanted to know him beyond the cautious glances and quiet brilliance. But how could she say that? Instead, she crossed her arms, feigning nonchalance. "Because I think you're worth talking to."

Neville scoffed, looking away. "You don’t even know me." "Then let me." The tension in the room crackled, the storm between them building. Y/n studied him carefully, waiting for a response, but all he did was press his lips together, his shoulders taut with unease.

Tilting her head as if challenging him, she continued, "You keep pushing me away, but I don’t think it's because you actually dislike me. I think you're scared." He flinched, grip tightening around the shears. "I’m not scared." "Then prove it." A tense silence settled between them, thick with unspoken words. The plants rustling even seemed to quieten, as if eavesdropping on the pair.

"Why are you even here?" Neville stated rather contemptuously. "You don't need a tutor." Y/n scoffed. "Did you not see my plant?" she lied, gesturing lamely to the depressing pot sat beside Nev's lush and thriving collection. "I know it's not yours. Yours needs repotting but there's nothing wrong with it." Y/n began to speak again, another lie on the tip of her tongue, when suddenly Neville pulled her very much alive and healthy tentacula from the shelf behind him and placed it in front of them. The girl released a breathy chuckle, "That's not –" he turned the pot so her name clearly faced her. '...mine'.

"FINE," she sighed with exaggeration. "I don't need tutoring." Neville watched her, waiting. "I lied because... I lied because I like you. And I needed an excuse to spend more time with you." The silence was deafening. Neither spoke, just stared at one another. Y/n gave Nev a look as if to say 'Well? Are you going to say something?' "No," Neville said simply.

"No... no??" What did he mean ‘no’? She had just told him the truth!

Neville’s stomach twisted, his heartbeat thudding in his ears. She was lying. This was some kind of elaborate Slytherin joke, wasn’t it? Get the awkward, fumbling Gryffindor to believe a pretty girl actually liked him, only to pull the rug out from under him the moment he let his guard down. That’s what they did- twisted the knife when you least expected it. She had to be lying and this time he wasn't going to fall for it! He began to pack his things.

Y/n could feel the panic rise as Neville started packing his things without a word. He wasn’t even looking at her. Desperation clawed at her throat, but she refused to let it show. Instead, she pushed off the workbench and stepped into his path.

"That’s it?" she asked, arms crossed but voice softer than she intended. "You’re just going to leave?" Neville barely paused, shoving his notebook into his bag. "Yeah." Y/n let out a sharp breath, shaking her head. "You don’t even care, do you?" Her voice wasn’t as steady as she wanted it to be. "I just told you the truth, and you’re acting like it’s nothing." Neville clenched his jaw, gripping the strap of his bag so hard his knuckles turned white. "I just don’t believe you," he admitted, still refusing to meet her gaze. Y/n's fingers twitched at her sides. For a moment, she almost reached for him- almost grabbed his sleeve, almost pleaded for him to stay. But the fear of rejection burned hot in her chest. She smothered it before it could take hold. Instead, she straightened her shoulders and forced a scoff.

"I don’t get you, Longbottom," she muttered, voice wavering despite her best efforts. "I put myself out there, and you won’t even give me the courtesy of a proper response." Neville hesitated for a moment, but then, he turned and prepared to walk out of the greenhouse and leave Y/n standing there.

Her chest was tight with something she couldn’t quite name.

A moment passed and Y/n’s frustration surged, white-hot and uncontrollable. Before she could think the better of it, she lunged forward, her hand clamping down on his shoulder. He barely had time to react before she yanked him back around to face her, eyes burning with a mix of hurt and fury.

"You're not walking away from this," she snapped, voice sharp, though something fragile lingered beneath it. "Not without giving me a real answer." Neville stumbled back a step, eyes wide with shock before narrowing with something more guarded. His jaw tightened, and he swallowed hard. “What do you want me to say?” he shot back, voice rougher than he intended. “That I believe you? That this isn’t some elaborate joke at my expense?” His breath came unevenly as he shook his head. “Because I can’t.”

"A joke?" Y/n repeated, incredulity flashing across her face. "You think I would go through all this - chasing you down, putting myself out there, just to humiliate you?" Her voice wavered, equal parts hurt and disbelief. "Do you really think so little of me?"

Again, Neville remained silent. Y/n took that as her confirmation.

"Wow... to think, I really thought maybe we could -" ‘date’ she thought. But caught herself. "- be friends."

"Friends?" he parroted. With that... the storm that had been looming thundered to life.

"Friends?!" Neville repeated rather indignantly. "You’re a Slytherin!" he snapped, louder than he intended. The words burst from him, sharp and unfiltered, his breathing uneven as he finally looked at her properly.

Y/n blinked, taken aback by the sudden outburst. "What does that have to do with anything?"

Neville exhaled harshly, dragging a hand through his hair. "It has everything to do with it! Do you have any idea what it’s been like for me? The years of getting hexed in corridors, having my things stolen, tripped, laughed at by your housemates? And now suddenly I’m just supposed to believe you’re different?" He shook his head, jaw clenched. "I’m sorry, but I can’t. I won’t."

Silence fell between them, heavier than before. Y/n opened her mouth to speak but found she had no words. For the first time, she saw it - really saw it. The weight he carried, the scars left behind by years of torment. And worse, she realised, he wasn’t wrong to be wary.

The greenhouse was bright and warm, but suddenly, she felt cold.

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