#this will not help i don’t want to type all that

[fgumi]

⋆.ೃ࿔*:･ LOSER IN A HOT MAN'S BODY

ᶻ 𝗓 𐰁 { PAIRING; non-idol!heeseung x reader, GENRE; fluff, school!au, headcanon, WC; 2.8k, A/N; i love losers that love that girlfriends entirely too much but, at the same time, not enough. TAGS; @en-dream @heeheesang @httpenhoon @r1kification @seungheartyou, @starfallia @sugarikiz @hoondolls @bamguetismee @jnysaln @cixrosie @wensurr @heartheejake @m1kkso }

(˶˃ ᵕ ˂˶) .ᐟ.ᐟ part two is up!

loser!heeseung was never the first one to get chosen for anything. well, he did get chosen first for musicals and solos! he had a beautiful voice and there was no denying that. but, for anything else? nope. it wasn't until you transferred over to his high school that he got picked willingly (and not because you guys were the only two left). you approached him in gym class after your teacher said to partner up for conditioning. "hey! i'm y/n. do you think we could be partners today?"

heeseung just blinked at you and then turned to see if someone was behind him. when he verified you were talking to him, he turned back to see you with a bemused look, a slight crease forming right between your brows. "you are talking to me, right?" he asked nervously.

a wry smile formed on your lips as you nodded. "there’s no one else around."

heeseung couldn't believe it. someone who wasn't a part of the theatre department was talking to him! so, he agreed with only a moment's hesitation. by the time sit-ups came around, heeseung knew about your basic interests and one secret: you were big on anime. you explained to him, during his sad attempts at pushups, that you loved anime but remained closeted because the boys at your last school made it weird. heeseung was careful not to let his excitement show; he didn't wanna scare you off before he really got to know you. eventually, after all the hellish exercises your teacher put you through, heeseung shyly asked you why you wanted to be partners.

"you looked like the type that doesn't judge people for struggling," you replied after drinking your water. you wiped the droplets of water that trickled down your neck and then offered heeseung some. "i don't have cooties. promise."

he gave you a faint, unsure smile, his hand reaching out slowly, half expecting you to pull it back and say psych! but you didn’t. you just patiently waited for him to take it. honestly, he just looked like a spooked deer to you, and you couldn’t help but find it endearing. after class was over and it was time for lunch, heeseung deflated. it was nice talking to you while it lasted.

“heeseung! wait up!”

he turned to you with round eyes, watching you rush over, a backpack draped over your right shoulder. you were freshly showered, water still dripping off the ends of your hair. you looked... happy? you slowed to a stop right in front of him.

“do you mind if we eat together?”

you wanted to eat with him? a cool girl like you wants to eat with a certified loser like him?

“it’s okay if you already have plans! i think i can find somewhere else to sit.”

no! you jumped a little. heeseung retracted into himself, rubbing the back of his neck. he’s never had someone ask to eat with him. he just sort of sat with his theatre classmates—not even friends. they all thought he was weird. you gave him a puzzled look.

“are you sure? you don’t have to pity me just because i’m new,” you pouted. gosh, was it just him or did everyone find you adorable?

“i’m sure. i was just hesitant since i’m not known for being, you know, popular.”

rolling your eyes, you clapped a hand on his shoulder. “as if that actually matters.” you tugged him along, linking your arm with his. thank goodness you were busy looking for the cafeteria because heeseung was struggling to keep the blush off of his face. as much as heeseung didn’t want to get his hopes up, he hoped that you guys would become real friends.

loser!heeseung loved his hobbies. he could talk about them for hours; they were his passion. he loved playing maple story, league of legends, team fight tactics, going to the renaissance fair, studying the metrics of trot (this one was a little too niche to really talk about though). none of these passions were greater than his passion for you. this man was dedicated to learning everything there was to know about you now that you were friends. you teased him about how stalkerish he sounded. almost immediately, he apologized.

the way his shoulders shrunk and eyes drooped down, you were definitely the asshole. when he stopped talking, you panicked. so, you didn’t think. you kissed his cheek. you blinked. he blinked. you blinked at each other. you know that ouran high school host club scene where tamaki realized haruhi is a girl and she complimented him? you’d bet your whole house that’s how red you were because you could feel the heat radiating off your face.

heeseung’s mind was still white noise. any sounds that were supposed to reach his ears were muffled, like he was underwater. was he underwater? was he dragged down into the depths of the styx river only to be lost forever? was he dreaming to cope with the harsh reality of his death? was he—

“heeseung?” you meekly called. “i’m sorry. i shouldn’t have done that without your consent. that was—”

he must’ve called upon achilles’s guidance and invincibility because he didn’t know where he got this courage otherwise. what courage you may ask? well, the courage that planted heeseung’s lips on yours.

your lips were so soft. they tasted like strawberries. he wondered if strawberries were your favorite fruit. he could kiss you forever. oh crap, he was kissing you.

anxiety crept up his spine, invading his every nerve; it was telling him he had to pull away or else you’d leave him forever. except, when he started moving away, he noticed you followed, reluctant to end the kiss. your eyes were closed too. he could’ve sworn they were open from shock.

heeseung could feel his back creaking in protest at the odd angle; he would’ve fallen over if it weren’t for you clutching the front of his shirt. huh? oh! maybe, you liked the kiss! you liked the kiss, like he did! oh, but now he couldn’t breathe. what should he do? he didn’t want the kiss to end.

he pressed back, holding out until the last possible moment. but you pulled away first, gasping for air. a blush dusted your cheeks and heeseung could guess that he was red too—probably not as pretty of a shade as yours though.

“s-sorry,” he stammered as you caught your breath. “i don’t know why i—”

you shut him up with another kiss (but this one was too short for heeseung’s newfound thirst for kissing you). when you pulled away, his big eyes tugged at your heart. they looked so sad that you moved away. it made you giggle—this whole situation. for someone that was trying to learn everything about you, he sure did miss your huge crush on him.

loser!heeseung didn’t know how he got so fortunate. was he a luck domain cleric in real life? he felt like he was rolling nat 20s continuously. he managed to ask you out (though, he was stuttering the whole time and nearly tripped on top of you—it was a whole affair that he’d rather forget) and be dating you 3 years later? he was one lucky man. and, some might say even luckier as time went on.

you got more confident once you guys got to college and, thus, you got hotter. you found your sense of self and your fashion reflected it. heeseung wasn’t doing so bad either. he found people that he got along with and could proudly (read: shyly) call friends. he found beomgyu in the league discord server that the university had and jeongin in d&d club! he’d meet up with them every once in awhile whenever they all felt like they needed to touch grass. of course, his friends knew you came first. you were heeseung’s everything. what they couldn’t wrap around their heads was how heeseung was your everything.

“you’ve been dating for 3 years!? no way, man.” “are you secretly rich? the son of some big conglomerate?” “all offense, she’s hot and you’re… not.”

heeseung didn’t let that bother him. his friends were idiots that had never felt the touch of a woman. plus, you trained him better (you told him to stop talking about himself like he was your pet, but he refused). you loved him so much without any strings attached. you were patient with him and listened to him ramble about how league kept nerfing his favorite character with every update. you never tried to change him and you told him it’s because you fell in love with him for how he was. but, there came a day when he wished you did. he happened to overhear a conversation between you and your friends.

“girl, there’s no way you’ve been with heeseung for 3 years and he hasn’t picked up a single thing about fashion from you.” “the face cards are mismatched, ma. you’re up here and he’s not even on this plane.” “don’t you ever get embarrassed whenever you guys go out? i mean, he dresses like he’s stuck in his mom’s basement.” “i hope he compensates in other ways because he’s not doing it where i can see.” “how are you okay with someone that much skinnier than you? doesn’t your body dysmorphia get triggered?”

you stopped talking to those girls after that. however, it didn’t stop heeseung from getting hurt by it. it was true, in heeseung’s eyes. you deserved much better than what he was giving you. how is it that you loved him even though he looked the exact same as he did 3 years ago? there were so many hot guys around and you never so much as turned your head to glance. there was nothing to support his insecurity about being hot enough or being enough in general. nonetheless, that horrid conversation sparked something in heeseung.

“baby, i’m heading to the gym. i’ll be back later to cook us dinner, okay?” if your brows raised any further, they’d merge into your hairline. “the gym?” heeseung nodded firmly. “gotta start working out to combat all the ramen i eat.”

“hee, you haven’t gained weight since we started dating, despite you eating my leftovers and your food. you don’t need to combat anything,” you laughed. when you saw heeseung was still tying the laces on his shoes, you let it go, thinking nothing of it. you kissed him and reminded him to stay hydrated.

thus began heeseung’s gym journey. it was difficult. muscle barely stuck even though he was eating well over 3000 calories. but, he could see his body getting toned, more cut, so he was happy. maybe people would stop looking at the two of you like you were wrong.

his wishful thinking remained at that. despite getting noticeably more fit, people still talked. they talked about his fashion, his haircut, and his hygiene (he thought this one was unfair considering he always did skincare with you and loved doing your nightly routines).

so, on the day you told him you were going thrifting, he asked to tag along. you were taken aback. heeseung never came with you; he didn’t see the point when he had perfectly good clothes at home. but you let him come along. you thought he’d just peruse with you or be there to make sure you paid with the card he gave you (he made a lot of money from his internship and begged you to use it for anything you wanted), but he didn’t. he asked a lot of questions.

“do you think this would look good on me?” “do these go together?” “are these good quality?”

you were excited. going thrifting was one of your favorite hobbies and to see heeseung taking such an interest in it was thrilling. you gave your opinions, always with a disclaimer that fashion is up to preference. he nodded along, processing your words. by the end of your thrifting trip, heeseung went home with a bundle of clothes to wear. the next day, he’d wake up earlier than normal to try and piece his new clothes together. he knew he wasn’t good at it. his friends let him know without reservations. hell, your friends let him know with their skeptical looks. it wasn’t until he talked to sunghoon in the gym that he got some actual constructive criticism.

“you’re taking an interest in fashion?”

“nothing crazy,” heeseung muttered, kicking the dust on the floor. “i just hate the comments y/n gets whenever her friends think i’m not listening.”

sunghoon looked at his gym buddy in pity. “look, man. if everything you’ve told me about your relationship is true, i don’t think y/n cares what you wear. she hasn’t in 3 years. what makes you think it’ll change all of a sudden?”

nothing. he didn’t doubt you. he just got sick at the thought of you having to listen to all those criticisms. so, sunghoon helped him. he showed him his pinterest moodboard and made heeseung swear to never tell anyone that’s how he chooses what to wear. after that informative session, heeseung got to work. he used your instagram feed as a reference, wanting to match your aesthetic, and created a moodboard inspired by it. using his pinterest board, he went thrifting by himself. he recalled the countless videos he watched while sorting through the clothes. cotton, not polyester. depending on the stain, you can get it out. tailoring is always an option when you find something that is a little too big!

he was very serious about his transformation. he even digitally scrapbooked the pictures of him in different clothes so he could be like cher in clueless. since then, his fashion started improving. your morning routines together changed ever so slightly with you telling him to spin for you. his heart warmed with every compliment you gave him.

“who is this diva?” “i feel very underdressed. i’m changing.” “are you getting dressed by law roach?” “you’ve been taking dress to impress a little seriously these days.”

heeseung’s confidence soared. now, he wasn’t ashamed to go out with you. your friends weren’t ashamed to be seen with him either. they even went as far as to compliment him! score! he’d gotten brownie points with your friends.

“finally, he’s dressing like a boyfriend fit to be with you, y/n.”

oh, that made you pull the brakes real fast. it completely escaped your mind how much your friends dissed your boyfriend (because you brushed them off as stupid comments). come to think of it, heeseung always did manage to miss the moments where they talked about him, but only by a minute or two. what if… what if he did hear those comments?

curious and worried, you asked him during your nightly routines. “hee, did… did you start dressing up for any particular reason?”

uh oh. heeseung hated lying to you; it physically pained him. so, he confessed. “i heard what your friends think of me and i didn’t want you to have to keep hearing them say things like that.”

“oh, baby, i’m so sorry you heard that,” you cooed. “i didn’t tell you because not even an atom of me agrees with them. i love you as you are, uni tees, basketball shorts and all.”

heeseung put down the moisturizer and looked down. “i know… i just wanted people to stop thinking we’re wrong for each other.”

you frowned and pulled him into a hug. “well, we know we’re perfect for each other. i’ve known it from the moment you started talking about the metrics of trot. i remember just nodding along and thinking how beautiful you were.”

heeseung blushed at your words. you always knew how to make him feel better.

“you don’t have to dress up for anyone but yourself, okay?”

he shook his head with a small smile. “i like matching with you. it’s fun.”

“well, i guess we really gotta dress to impress then,” you grinned, kissing his cheek.

with that, heeseung was reassured. no more pressure. he could just dress however he wanted (which was however you were dressing). but, his glow up didn’t stop there. no, he thought about a haircut. he wanted something that would shut your friends up forever. so, after scrolling forever on tiktok, he found that he liked a mullet with some face-framing pieces. he went and got it done at sunghoon’s trusted barbershop and came out a new man. he immediately sent you a picture, to which you responded, “don’t go anywhere. no errands. no grabbing food. come home. now.”

safe to say, you loved his new haircut. he loved his new haircut. he loved it even more when his friends and your friends couldn’t manage words. good. stay that way.

loser!heeseung was still a loser but, at least, he was in a hot man’s body with his very very attractive girlfriend. he still played league. he still larped. he still took the renaissance fair very seriously. he still loved you more than anything in the world. he was still your loser.

disclaimer: this, in no way, reflects the idol. this is purely fiction. ✧ comments and reblogs are appreciated! ✧ give my other works a read too!

[jobean12-blog]

Birds of a Feather

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x female reader (friends to lovers)

Word Count: 2.5K

Summary: You have to attend a close relative's wedding and there's no one better to bring than your best friend, Bucky.

Author's Note: Seeing so much of happy Seb lately-and looking so good-made me want to write something sexy and fluffy so here we are. Thank you all so much for reading! Much love always! ❤️❤️❤️Divider by the lovely @firefly-graphics thanks Daisy!🥰

Warnings: soft and sweet, tense and flirty, Bucky is the best in every way!

‘Come on up. Room 322.’

His thumbs hang limply over the phone screen, his brain going blank.

When he sent the text ten seconds earlier to let you know he’s arrived he figured you would meet him down in the lobby or at the hall.

Meeting you in the hotel room is a problem he anticipated when he gave himself a pep talk before leaving.

“She’s your best friend. Don’t do anything stupid…like go to the hotel room.”

His fingers finally start to move over the letters. ‘I can meet you down here…’

But maybe you need help with something?

He deletes the text, now typing, ‘is there anyone with you?,’ but that just sounds weird and possessive.

‘I can see you typing,’ you text. ‘Just come up. I need help.’

With a laugh, he deletes everything again and types simply, ‘be right there doll.’

His long legs carry him quickly to the elevator and when he presses the button for the third floor he takes a deep breath, his pulse climbing it’s way up his throat.

The door to your room is propped open with the dead bolt, but he knocks anyway.

“Come in Buck!”

Pushing it open just enough to peek his head in, he calls out, “I could be anyone, and you just invite me in without checking!”

“You just texted me you were coming up,” you sing from the bathroom, quickly continuing before he can say more, “and most of the people on his floor are friends or relatives here for the wedding.”

“Well, I’m glad to know you take your safety as seriously as I do,” he shouts back.

Your voice gets louder as you walk into the bedroom. “With you around I never have to worr…”

You stop for a breath when you see him, but your next words are lost to the blank void of his brain as he takes in your dress and how you look in it. To put it simply- stunning.

“Bucky?”

He startles, having no idea how long he’d been silent.

“Yeah doll…that’s…I’m here.”

When he finally drags his eyes to your face, you’re fighting a smile. “I asked if you could help me?”

“Oh, right. Sure. With what exactly?”

He cringes but steps closer.

“My dress?”

You turn around to show him the fabric at the back that hangs open, a tiny zipper dangling down at your lower back.

Trying to suppress a groan, but not being entirely successful he swallows hard. “That zipper looks very tiny.”

“It is,” you agree. “I realize I should have asked someone with smaller hands to help me out, but everyone is running around with their own nonsense so here we are.”

He approaches with a casual, “sure, of course doll.”

But then he does something without fully realizing it until the shiver runs along your back: he drags a knuckle down the curve of your spine.

You turn and look at him over your shoulder.

He just blinks and looks down to grab the zipper, mumbling about how small it is.

It’s quiet as he carefully pulls the zipper up and when he reaches the top he lets it fall and gently runs a finger along the top of the dress as he moves around to look at you.

“All set,” he whispers.

You smile and clear your throat before giving him an appreciative once over.

“You look hot.”

“Thanks doll. You…” and he struggles when his voice comes out a bit strangled, “you look breathtaking.”

You reach up and touch his bow tie, pulling at the neatly tied ends as you tell him, “I was hoping you’d arrive a flustered mess over how to tie this so I could do it for you.”

With a grin, he reaches up and tugs the end, untying it in a smooth pull.

“Figure you should do something in return after I battled that zipper,” he teases.

Still smiling, you take a hold of the tie, tugging it to align the ends evenly around his neck. “I didn’t get the impression it was such a hardship.”

His answering smirk is so telling you have to stifle a laugh.

“Are you feeling ready for this? I know these big events aren’t your favorite.”

“I’ll manage just fine doll, thanks. Besides, I’ve got the most beautiful date in the whole place.”

With your focus still on his bow tie he takes the opportunity to openly stare. When you smile at his sweet words he’s mesmerized by the way your soft lips part and his eyes stay glued to your mouth.

You look up to meet his gaze and he quickly lifts his eyes, a light pink sweeping across his cheeks.

You blink away and he looks down at your hands, noting the very little progress you’ve made.

“Do you have any idea what you’re doing?”

“Well…yes. I’m sure I can…”

“You’ve never done this before, have you?”

“You might be right!,” you quip, “but I’m no quitter.”

He’d be happy to stand there all night.

You finally step back, surveying your work, and frown. “I’m going to be honest, not sure I made it look as good as you did.”

He looks down and undoes the mess and you glower as he handily fixies it.

“Wow, no need to gloat you butthead.”

He lets out a full-bodied laugh, eyes crinkled, and nose scrunched, and you enjoy the sight before he explains, “I’ve done it a million times. I’m always the one in the tux when we go undercover.”

“That’s because you’re the one that looks the best.”

“Thanks doll,” he answers quietly.

“There are so many people here,” you whisper as you lead him through the crowd in the hall.

He let’s out a low whistle, nodding in agreement and aking in the décor.

You greet people as you walk, introducing Bucky to those that don’t already know him. Their eyes follow you, curiosity piqued in their expression as they wonder who he is to you.

You wonder the same. Your favorite person in the world. Your best friend…and so much more?

You take his elbow and guide him forward toward the outside set up where the ceremony will take place. On the way you find your grandmother and introduce him.

Since he can’t take his eyes off you he notices the subtle shift in your demeanor, the softening of your face and the adoration in your eyes.

He expects a gentle handshake but instead gets pulled in for a hug.

“Oh darling, isn’t he a sight,” you grandma says, patting Bucky’s cheek. “And you,” she says, turning her eyes your way. “Gorgeous.”

“Thanks grandma,” you beam.

A woman whizzes by, catching your eye and pointing to her watch.

“Looks like it’s time,” you announce.

Bucky holds out one arm for your grandma and the other for you.

“And a gentleman too,” your grandma gushes as she loops her arm through his. “Definitely a keeper.”

“You can keep grandma company,” you say as you approach the chairs.

“Of course, doll,” he says and leans in to kiss your cheek before helping your grandma into her seat.

“I’ll see you after the ceremony.” You gather your dress and turn to head back inside to meet the wedding party. “Miss me,” you call over your shoulder with a playful smile.

He stares as you walk away, quietly admitting, “I already do.”

Slight nerves take over when you hear the music start but the moment you walk out into the crowd your eyes zero in on Bucky. And what do you know? He’s looking right back at you…and he doesn’t take his eyes off you the whole ceremony.

After the ceremony it takes forever to work your way through the crowd to him, and in between catching up with friends and family or directing someone somewhere, you catch glimpses of him smiling and laughing with your grandma and happily keeping her company.

When you finally do reach him, your grandma has been safely escorted to her seat and now a woman hangs off his arm- Jessica. You know her, an old family friend, and you like her well enough, but you step up behind them right as she asks Bucky if she can steal him for the first dance, and your stomach drops.

You jerk to a stop. He hasn’t seen you. He should accept. You’ll hate it, but you’re not in any position to protest.

But then Bucky says only a gentle, “sorry, no can do. Tonight, I’ve only got one dance partner.”

Your heart nearly leaps out of your chest, and you step closer, swallowing down the emotion.

“Hey you two!”

Bucky turns, extracting his arm from Jessica and setting a warm palm at your lower back.

“And here she is. My favorite dancing partner.”

Jessica leans around from his other side and says hello.

“Thanks for coming,” you tell her.

“Oh my god, of course. I wouldn’t miss it. And I was just meeting your friend, James, here.”

She emphasizes the word friend and at her usage of his real name you have to hold back a giggle.

“Isn’t he wonderful,” you hum, sliding your hand up his bicep. “He’s been keeping my grandmother company this whole time.”

She swoons and smiles at Bucky before turning back to you.

“He is. I just wasn’t expecting you to have a date. You’re usually always flying solo at these family events.”

You feel the smile slipping from your face and an uncomfortable laugh escapes.

The simple answer never comes to you, and you feel caught like a deer in the headlights.

“Actually, that’s only because I was away for work,” Bucky steps in smoothly. “I hate to miss any chance to be her date, but my schedule can be pretty demanding sometimes.”

“Oh, you’re so sweet,” Jessica says. “Work is important of course.”

“Yeah,” he answers, “but not as important as her. So, from now I won’t be missing another event.”

Jessica’s face does a thing. It’s a barely restrained, ‘oh okay, I see.’

Bucky’s smile remains but it doesn’t look entirely natural anymore but when he looks at you, every emotion on his face is genuine.

“Ready to find our seats doll face,” he asks you.

“Sure,” you reply.

“Well, it was nice to meet you Jennifer. Enjoy the party.”

With a firm hand, he leads you away. You allow yourself to be guided up the grassy path and indoors to where a band plays. Bucky grabs you two flutes of champagne off a passing tray and hands you one.

“That was swoony,” you tell him then take a sip.

“All I did was grab it from a tray doll. Time to raise your bar a bit.”

Laughing, you smack his beefy shoulder with your free hand. “Not that! The way you gently let Jennifer have it back there.”

He takes a sip, eyes on you. “She deserved worse, but I didn’t want to start trouble.”

With your brow raised you match his mischievous grin then you take his glass and set it down on one of the small tables, leading him to the dance floor.

He looks confused at first but when your hands slide up his chest and around his neck he circles his arms around your waist.

He relaxes against you, hands warm and strong on your lower back and you rest your cheek to his shoulder.

“You’re always so comfy.”

“Thank you.”

“And you always look out for me.”

He presses a kiss to your temple.

“Of course, doll.”

“You’re my favorite person in the Universe.”

He doesn’t respond at first, not for five or ten or thirty seconds. You keep waiting for the feeling of rejection in his silence but instead it feels like an agreement and finally his words confirm it.

“Mine too, doll.”

Your quiet slow dance is the last moment alone you have for the next few hours because what follows is a whirlwind of a reception.

And the whole time he can’t take his eyes off you.

“Think I’m ready to get out of here,” you say as you slump against his side.

He carefully holds you up as he stands and reaches to take your hand.

“Come on doll face. I’ll take you home.”

When you reach your apartment door your feet are aching, and your legs are tired. You retrieve your key from the hidden pocket in your small purse and slide it into the doorknob.

“I’m going to need you to unzip me,” you say, gesturing casually to your dress.

His silence makes you slowly turn around to face him and when you meet his eyes they’re heavy with heat and desire.

“Bucky?”

“Turn back around,” he says gruffly.

You do as your told and feel his exhaled puff of air against your bare shoulder before he takes your wrists in this hands and places your palms flat against the door. His metal fingers slide down one arm then trace the curve of your shoulder, while his other toys with the small zipper.

He starts to pull it down, so slowly, you feel every brush of his skin against yours and it sends a tremble across your body. For every new inch of your skin that he exposes his breath quickens. You can feel the heat of him so close and your fingers press into the hard wood of the door.

Once the fabric hangs loosely at the sides he stops and slips his hands inside to your waist and turns you back to face him.

“You’re so soft,” he murmurs. “I…”

You drag your fingers along his temple and down his jaw. Your finger falls to his bottom lip, tracing it’s outline.

You can see it in his eyes, the understanding that everything between you is easy and you don’t have to try. It’s too good.

Your gaze drops to his lips again and your mouth goes soft. “Kiss me Bucky.”

The words are just barely out of your mouth and he’s already leaning in, lips on yours, warm and urgent, his hands rising to cup your face. Your instincts send tight, possessive fists to the lapels of his jacket and you melt completely into the domination and tenderness in his touch.

With a quiet groan he tilts his head, deepening the contact into a decadent slide, sending a hungry hand down your body once again and grabbing your ass to press all your softness against the hard planes of his body.

He catches your bottom lip between his teeth, drags slowly away, and you chase the contact, but he stops you, pressing his thumb over your lips.

He stares for what feels like forever, then kisses you again, lingering before he murmurs, “you’re so beautiful,” into the sensitive skin below your ear, and then repeats it quietly into your neck.

“Are you going to stay the night?” you ask breathless.

“If you’ll have m…”

“Yes. Yes Bucky.”

[incomplete-leclerc]

　𝗠𝗜𝗦𝗦𝗘𝗗 𝗧𝗛𝗘 𝗠𝗔𝗥𝗞.　lando norris · #4

　　　lando thinks he isn't the jealous type, but when it comes to his best friend, he might just be very wrong about that.

genres : best friends to lovers ... fluff ... lando x fem!reader.　word count : 1.4k.　warnings : jealousy ... lando misreading and overthinking.　 note : i recycled this fic from my main (it used to be a kpop fic, but i edited it and rewrote some lines).　　　( masterlist )　( taglist )

Lando had always thought jealousy was a stupid thing. Easily jealous people were insecure and only caused headaches for themselves and others. He prided himself with how secure he was, not easily swayed by feelings of envy off the track. And, as such, Lando had never suspected to get jealous, much less over his best friend. 

He didn’t know how to combat the feelings he soon felt rising when he saw you across the room, at this stupid New Year’s party his friend had hosted. You looked nothing short of stunning in your red satin dress, commanding the attention of the whole room it seemed. Lando simply couldn’t look away from you. But while he was busy falling into the hypnosis that you cast on him, he was hyper aware of how close you were to George, how you kept laughing at whatever joke he was telling. 

George Russell was loveable and fun to be around. Talented, smart, attractive; and a full head above Lando in height. He’d only been your friend for a few months. Lando had known you for half of his life. Surely, he wasn’t threatened by George’s presence, was he?

Lando felt dumb thinking about it like that. George couldn’t steal you from him— you weren’t even his to begin with. But he couldn’t help but feel his chest burn seeing you make eye contact with the taller man, a pretty smile gracing your lips and your eyes scrunching to complete it. He wished he had the confidence to storm up to where you and George stood and make up some excuse to steal you away from him, if even for a few moments. But he was afraid of acknowledging the obvious jealousy he felt, finding it tarnished his ego. 

Oscar, ever the observant man he was, found his friend sitting in the corner of the room, sipping on apple cider with a stare that could burn a hole through anyone. With a gaze so fixed on your figure, it was easy to connect the dots. He took a seat next to his friend, offering his mug of cider to toast. 

“You look like you want to banish George from the planet,” Oscar muttered with a smile. He was aware of Lando’s crush on you. It was hard to not see the way he looked at you. What Oscar could see that Lando didn’t, however, was how mutual the feelings seemed to be. Every time you visited the paddock, you were near inseparable from him. 

“I don’t,” Lando lied. It was a pathetic attempt to hide his churning stomach and aching heart. 

“Y/n looks pretty tonight. I wonder who she dressed up for?” Oscar nudged Lando’s arm.

“Isn’t it obvious? They’ve been attached at the hip for the last 20 minutes,” Lando took another sip of cider, letting the warm spices and tartness burn down his throat. He tried to make his words seem unaffected by the fact he was pointing out, but, to Oscar, who already knew of his frankly crippling crush on you, it was obvious how bothered he was by the sight. 

“Someone’s jealous.”

“I’m not jealous, mate. I don’t get jealous.” 

As he uttered the defense, his eyes flitted towards your figure, once again caught breathless by how good you looked. There was an obvious absence of George by your side for the first time since Lando had sat down. He assumed he must have walked off. Your eyes were glancing around the room, and once they landed on Lando, they brightened. You started walking over to him, champagne in hand. Oscar patted his friend on the shoulder and stood up, leaving him alone to talk to you.   

“Hey. So this is where you’ve been hiding all night? I swear, I couldn’t find you anywhere. I almost thought I dressed up for nothing.” 

You smiled, taking the seat Oscar had been sitting in. Lando felt the churning in his stomach come to a halt, replaced by shy butterflies. 

“Wanna trade? I’ve already had too much champagne for one night,” you asked, not giving Lando any time to answer before swapping your glasses, humming in content at the taste of the warm cider. Lando smiled, taking a sip of the half empty glass of champagne that had found its way into his hand.

“You look nice tonight,” Lando said, giving you a glance, trying not to seem obvious. Your smile widened at his comment, and he couldn’t help but feel immense satisfaction at scoring over George. 

“Really? You don’t look so bad yourself. You tried something different with your hair. It really works.” 

He nodded. Truthfully, he hadn’t expected you to notice as nobody else had. After spending an extra twenty minutes scrutinizing it in the mirror along with his outfit before leaving for the party, he was glad the person he had put the effort in for had taken note. As conversation went on and you started talking, Lando soon found himself entirely lost in your presence and words. Eyes trained onto your face, smile following your sentences. You made everything feel so easy, vanishing all of his previous doubts and worries. All he could focus on was you, and you were back to being best friends; always getting along, always having more things to say to each other, always making the other laugh. 

The conversation shifted eventually, and the topic of your previous conversation with George came up. Something about modelling, but Lando couldn’t entirely focus on processing your words. His focus had shifted to how you seemed to talk about George, retelling the story with such enthusiasm and a sparkle in your eyes. Lando didn’t know if you talked about him like that to your friends, but there was a part of his muddled brain that wished you would; wished you did.

When there was a pause in the conversation, Lando found the words falling past his lips before he even realized what he was saying.

“You seem to like him a lot.”

Your eyebrows furrowed a bit at his observation. You glanced at Lando, but his face was unreadable. 

“You two look good together,” he continued, not even sure why he was bringing it up. The jealousy was glaringly obvious. He couldn’t hide it, especially not from you. You could always read him so easily. 

“What do you mean? You don’t actually think I’m interested in him, right?” 

Lando blinked, taken aback by your words. It had seemed so obvious thirty minutes ago that you were, but now he felt like he had misread you.

“I… I don’t know. It looked like—”

“Looked like what? Lando, please don’t say you really misread it that badly,” you said seriously, placing a hand on his shoulder so he would meet your gaze. His eyes found yours and his mouth fell silent immediately, unsure of what to say to justify his thoughts. 

He really was jealous. God, he felt so stupid.

“I don’t care about George. I care about you. You’re the only one who I think of in that way.” 

Lando searched your eyes, tracing them for any hesitation or dishonesty. You were sincere. Smart and kind and so, so pretty. You were miles ahead of Lando, he was sure of it. He didn’t know how he had managed to get you to stay his friend for this long, or how you even saw him in a romantic way at all. But he believed you when you said you thought of him, and God, he thought of you every day. 

He had imagined this moment many times, picturing that he would get a surge of confidence and kiss you, or ask you on a date as soon as he was sure of your feelings. But, he didn’t feel any of that. He was embarrassed instead, a flush taking over his cheeks and his eyes unable to move from the spot on the floor in between his feet.  

You looked over at him, an amused smile on your face. Your best friend was an idiot at times, but you only found it endearing. You lifted his chin gently, turning his face back towards you. Planting a small kiss on his cheek, you smiled.

“I like you, Lan. Don’t ever doubt it.” 

[okwonyo]

日语 ✴︎ I CAN MELT AN IGLOO, CAUSE I’M SO DANG HOT.

in which. 𝖾𝗇𝗁𝗒𝗉𝖾𝗇 𝗆𝖺𝗄𝗂𝗇𝗀 𝗒𝗈𝗎 𝗅𝗈𝗈𝗌𝖾 𝗒𝗈𝗎𝗋 𝖼𝗈𝗈𝗅.

（𝖬𝖠𝖦𝖠𝖹𝒾𝖭𝖤） ｡ boyf!enha & fem!rea 8OO fluff established relationship ─── kissing skinship

じや ：#divaz told me to post this first ♡ don’t forget to vote for the boys !

reblogs ୨୧ feedbacks please ／ help

heeseung likes to dive his eyes into yours. at any given moment or circumstances, he loves to hold eye contact with you. his gaze flicker into yours as soon as you start to talk, his entire focus on you. which makes a garden of butterflies appear in the pit of your stomach— “stop looking at me like that,” you say in the middle of your sentence and he laughs.

heeseung, as implied before, loves to watch you. and it might seem crazy, but even when you kiss— he open his eyes slightly. to see your flushed face up close like, your eyes close as you melt into his mouth like that. it is not an habit you were aware before your drunk friend told you about it.

( + )

jongseong isn’t the type to use too many words. he has this habit of calling you over with signs, as if you were a cat. most of the time, he sits down and immediately taps his lap to indicate to you to come sit there. he whispers a sweet praise in your ear, wrapping his strong arms around your waist.

jongseong knows a few tricks to make you look at him again. his favorite one is by lifting your chin with his index finger and lean in, “look at me,” he orders gently and you do as you were told. he loves to watch your cheeks get more and more red while he holds your attention this way and talks to you. the grin on his face tells you that much.

jaeyun doesn’t even seem to realize when he is doing it. it comes naturally to him, he can’t control himself— and honestly, even if could stop himself, he would rather check out his beautiful girlfriend all the time. dragging his eyes all over your figure makes him feel things, he can’t help but bite down a smirk everytime. barely aware of the effect it has on you.

jaeyun’s obsession with jeans started with you. he remembers, the first that he saw you in those and swa you turning around— his head did too. the growing need to slide his hands in your back pocket grew fast and astronomically big that time, and he can’t just not do it now. he pus his huge hand in your backpocket while you walk, when he wants to turn you around, whenever he feels like it.

sunghoon doesn’t hide the fact that he has muscles, especially not to you. a day won’t go by without him flexing ‘unknowingly’ while shooting you a quick glance. the most attractive thing about his muscular body, is that he an manhandle you whenever and wherever he wants. “bedtime,” he calls before hoping your body over his shoulder like a sack of potatoes.

sunghoon often leans against tall surfaces. sometimes with his arms crossed under his chest, sometimes with his forearm supporting him as he towers over you. a silly pick up lines floats away from his mouth, his proud grin being the thing that makes your heart swell at the end.

sunoo leans his head back a lot, showing off his perfect neck. what drives you into a spiral is when he groans softly— the sound coming out of his mouth as not egal and the way his adam apple pops makes your knees incredibly week. your eyes are unable to focus on anything else.

sunoo when you are standing on his path, holds your waist gently before moving you to the side. “sorry, baby,” he tells you as he does so, a cute smile drawn on his face. he is already far before you can realize what happened.

jungwon is really expressive, especially in the brows area. there isn’t anything in particular with what he does with them— it is all just the way he moves them, just something about the little raises that says he likes something, they make you crazy.

jungwon rarely ever gets mad. if you were to be honest, you never thought it was possible to see that side of him until he got angry over work. and listen, you are obviously sad to see him frustrated. but, dear god, the way his jaw tightens and his angry smile…

riki is obviously much taller than you are. he has to look down to see you, and sometimes your words don’t reach him properly. therefore, he leans in to listen to you properly, “hm?” he hums with his breath on your neck.

riki, given his height, has a better view than anyone for everything. he doesn’t need to get on his tiptoes in a crowed event to see what he wants to see— you, however… has the great boyfriend that he is, he lifts you up as soon as he sees you struggling to see anything. with his hands holding your thighs close to his waist, he asks, “is it good now, princess?”

taglist is open. & @sgz-net

[foreingersgod]

Pls do Caroline Harvey HCs

with just an eeny weeny teensy tiny bit of smut plss 🙏🏾

Headcannons . CH

pairing: caroline harvey (kk harvey) x reader

warnings: a mix of fluffy content and smut, so read at your own discretion and minors and men please do NOT interact!

this is my peace offering for being so busy and slacking on writing, full length fic coming soon!!

also not spell checked, sorry!!

SFW (barely but no smut)

i feel like she’s a pretty domestic person, i think she’d prefer quiet nights at home with you as opposed to going out and partying. i imagine her being the one to beg you to stay and do date night at home anytime you suggested getting dinner or seeing a movie.

“but babe why can’t we just stay home?! we have food and plenty of movies here!” she’d whine when you asked “i’ll even make you dinner myself! come on, i jus’ want you all to myself”

on a similar note, i also think she’s not huge on PDA and that’s why she loves staying in with you so much. it’s not that she doesn’t feel comfortable being seen with you, it’s just that she’s kind of reserved and prefers to keep her personal life as private as she can. for her sake and for yours.

which has its perks, don’t get me wrong. you almost prefer it that way, subtle little touches when you’re out with friends or something like that, her hand gently resting on your lower back or her head resting on your shoulder when she gets tired. and then you’d get home, and she wouldn’t be able to help herself anymore. she’d be all over you in an instant.

“fuck,” she pants when you finally walk into your shared apartment for the night. you had been out for your mutual friends birthday, and you unintentionally intentionally decided to wear something fairly revealing “y’know what you do to me? wearing something like that?”

and believe me…she’d make up for the lack of public affection in other ways.

i’d like to think that her love language is acts of service. like she still loves to touch you and validate you and all that lovely girlfriend stuff, but she shows her love in more ways than just words.

she’d often leave you sticky notes on the fridge when you got home later than she did, maybe leave some on your nightstand when she had to leave early in the mornings when you’re still asleep. always leaving an “xoxo C” at the bottom to tell you she’s thinking of you.

not only that, but she’d do a lot of household chores for you when you were busy with school and work, run you relaxing baths when you were sick, or even something so little as running to the supermarket to grab your favorite ice cream when you started your period.

she’d be one of those stereotypical lesbians that just absolutely worships the ground their girlfriend walks on. she never fails to bring you up in conversations and is quite willing to do anything you ask.

one night you’re winding down after a long day, watching tv and painting your nails whilst caroline sits beside you to keep you company. she’s quite honestly not paying attention to what’s playing on the screen at least, rather her eyes are glued to you. she watches the way the lavender lacquer glides across your nail, how your tongue sticks out in conversation and she’s in complete awe of how beautiful you look doing the most mundane things.

“hey caroline?” you asked with a pout.

“yeah baby?” she hums in response, pretending like she wasn’t just watching you like a hawke.

“d’you think you could help me with this hand? i keep messing up”

and she’s already perching herself on the floor in front of you, pulling you into her lap as she grabs the bottle of nail polish to finish painting them.

she’s a snorer. i’m so sure of it. although i don’t think she snores like in a heavy type of way, but instead she lets out light little grumbles here and there.

i can just picture her, face pressed into the pillow, her cheek smushed against the fabric as she sleeps peacefully. her hair is all over the place and her lips are slightly parted. and then to top it all off, as if she couldn’t be any cuter, she lets out the softest snuffs.

definitely has a scrapbook, shoved somewhere deep into her closet, that her mother gifted her. it’d be filled with several baby pictures and photos/drawings from when she was in grade school, hiding it away because she was unbelievably embarrassed for you to see them.

you remembered when her family visited you both when you had finally settled into your place together, her mom bringing the scrapbook as a housing warming gift of some sorts. caroline immediately tried to tuck it away, but you were more than stubborn and demanded that you sit down and look through it.

it’s still one of your favorite memories. laughing with her parents at all the goofy pictures from when she lost her first teeth, when she won her first hockey trophy, and when she graduated high school. you even loved reading all the poems she wrote in middle school english, loved seeing all the ‘1st place” ribbons that her mom neatly taped to the card-stock pages.

you only got to look at it twice since then, kk utterly miserable whenever it was pulled out, but you cherished those pictures more than anything.

she’s probably such a dad in the sense that she pretends to not care about the cheesy reality tv shows you’re into, but then secretly starts getting hooked on it and makes you record each episode so you can watch it together.

“what do you mean lisa called meredith a ‘garbage whore’?” she gasped, running into the living room with a bowl of popcorn in her hands “wait, wait i told you to pause it! i don’t want to miss it!!”

her favorite place to kiss you is definitely your forehead. sure, she loves kissing you everywhere, but there’s something so intimate to her about small forehead kisses.

she never fails to give you one before you both fall asleep, before you leave for work, when you’re sad and need comforting or when you’re so excited and it’s her way of expressing her support. you’d probably get her kiss mark tattooed there if you could.

she often gets overwhelmed with sports and school and family and all sorts of things. she tends to be reserved with her feelings, but you’re the only person she can genuinely open up to. sometimes she comes home from practice with this look on her face, and you can immediately tell that she’s struggling.

most times she doesn’t even want to talk about it, she just wants you to hold her, run your fingers through her hair and tell her it’s all going to be okay.

and she loves to teach you new things. wether that’s teaching you how to skate, how to cook a family dish she always ate as a kid, or how play the games she learned in elementary school, she just wants you to be involved in everything she loves.

you think you love it more than she does. you’d never get over how excited she gets when you ask if you can help her make that ‘dinner she made one time’ or if she’d tell you a funny story from when she was a rebellious teen.

like that one time you were having lunch in the park one summer, sprawled out on a handmade quit atop the freshly cut grass as you laid side by side. you picked mindlessly at the dandelions beside you as you both chatted about each others day.

“you know i used to make those when i was younger?” she spoke, motioning to the flowering weeds “flower crowns, i mean”

“really?” you smiled “no one ever taught me how, i always wished i could though”

i didn’t take long before she was picking some herself and instructing you on how to tangle them together so easily. she took it as serious as she took hockey, determined to make sure you knew how to make a perfect flower crown. it wasn’t really a big deal to you in the long run, but something so important to her was just as important to you.

NSFW (for realsies this time)

getting straight to the point, i don’t think she’s huge on the strap. don’t get me wrong, you both still use it often, but i think she much prefers eating you out or scissoring.

there’s something about the appeal of physically feeling you on her that makes her crazy, a sensation that beats using the strap any day.

she loves it when you bite her or scratch her. it’s a pleasant mix between pleasure and pain and it’s probably her favorite part of intimacy.

she likes to look in the mirror the next day, just before she gets in the shower, to admire the long red marks that stretch along her back. she often teases you about too, but if you ever stop, she’s guiding your hands to her back again.

she’s not as drawn to the marks that your bites leave as much, instead she loves the feelings. when she’s making you feel so so good, so much that you can barely hold it in anymore, that you have to bite down on her shoulder or her bicep to keep yourself grounded. it’s like an ego boost to her, a sign that she fucks you so good that you can’t even function properly.

she’s cocky in bed, i feel like she’s the type to say:

“yeah baby? feels good huh?”

“come on, speak up, i can’t hear you”

or if you’re on top…

“fuck yeah, just like that, making me feel so good baby. keep going…gonna make me come”

a sucker for praise

she loves when you tell her that she’s going a good job, that’s she’s exceeding your expectations each time. she’s a bit of a perfectionist and an over achiever that way, but hey, you’re not one to complain.

whilst she loves fancy lingerie and nice dresses, she folds for you even when you’re in sweats and one of her t shirts.

“really? right now?” you huff as her hands dance up your shirt, massaging your tits roughly. she’s kissing up your neck painfully slow and you can’t help but wonder what’s gotten her so worked up “i look like shit”

“are you kidding?” she scoffs “i’d fuck the shit out of you no matter what you’re wearing, you look so sexy even in this”

i’m a firm believer (maybe this is a self insert but idc!!) that she appreciates all body types, especially a chubbier figure. like she’s absolutely obsessed with your pudgy tummy and your thick thighs, a sucker for how plush and soft your body is. don’t even get her started on those stretch marks of yours…

you’d be lying if you said you didn’t struggle with your body image often, but you never had to be insecure for long when caroline walked into your life. she seized every opportunity to make you see what she saw in you, willing to do whatever it took to prove to you that she loved your body.

“shit, look at you” she moaned, smirking as she watched you on top of her, grinding your wet pussies together. her hands gripped feverishly at your hips, often wandering down to squeeze your thighs. her hands were all over you the entire time, letting you know that she loves every inch of you “so pretty on top of me, i’ll never get sick of lookin’ at you, got it?”

[greengoblinswifey]

Revenge—Nicholas Chavez x Fem!Reader

summary— Nicholas gets fired and as an act of revenge, fucks you, his boss’ daughter and sends it to him. based on this request.

warnings— daddy kink, exhibitionism, degradation, praise kink, fingering, face fucking, face slapping, ass slapping, choking, manipulation, recording sex, revenge porn, unprotected sex, creampie, breeding kink.

a/n— enjoy this as I take a break from spiraling!

The city below bustled faintly as you sat perched on your father’s desk in his office. He would probably freak seeing you sit on the place he did his work and have his meetings but what he didn’t know wouldn’t kill him.

Daddy dearest was away having meetings all morning so being the heir to his empire, you were left in charge of affairs until he returned. The only ‘affairs’ you handled were typing away on your phone combatting your friend’s comments of you being a ‘nepo baby’ and sitting on your father’s desk as if you owned the place. Well, in just a few years you would.

A knock on the large glass door startled you, and you shouted a “Come in!” to indicate to whoever was stood outside could enter. You didn’t even bother to look up from your phone until you heard a deep voice greet you.

Shoes clicked faintly on the glistening tiles after you heard the door shut behind them. “Uh, good morning,” the deep voice said. As you looked up, your jaw fell slightly agape.

Standing a few feet away was nothing short of a Greek God. He was tall, muscles bulging from the tailored suit he was clad in, hair tousled but still neat and dark, beautiful eyes. You were sucker for men’s eyes right after their height.

“It’s afternoon, and s-same to you.” Your voice faltered as the man inched closer with a box in his hands.

His lips pressed together before he gave a tight lipped smile. “Sorry, a lot on my mind. Is your father in the building?”

You shook your head slowly, your eyes raking over his form as his went over yours, only more subtly. “He’s not. You’ll have to speak to me about whatever concerns you have.”

He sighed shaking his head, clearly annoyed but attempting to keep his composure. “Well, I’m just returning these last set of papers and items since your father fired me.”

“Fired you?” Your right eyebrow arched, confusion swirling your mind. How could your father ever fire someone so good looking. He was perfect. “Sit down, tell me what happened,” you continued, sweetly.

He placed the box at his feet and sat on the leather couch positioned right in front of you. With the way you were positioned, one wrong move and he would see the red and black thong barely covering your pussy.

“My name’s Nicholas Chavez,” he started. Nicholas, you could definitely moan that. “I was fired yesterday with no plausible explanation other than budget cuts. I mean no disrespect when I say this but that makes no fucking sense. I’ve worked harder than almost everyone here. I arrive on time and I leave later than everyone else. I’ve given my all to this company and this is how your father repays me?” He was angry, no doubt, and you couldn’t help the pang of guilt and sympathy you felt for him.

“I’m so sorry,” you began, titling your head and biting your lips absentmindedly, though the action didn’t go unnoticed by Nicholas. “I’ll talk to daddy for you, that’s so unfair.”

“Thank you, Y/N, but I don’t think you can change his mind,” he huffed.

Clearly, Nicholas wasn’t aware of the strong hold you had on your father. In his eyes, you could do no wrong. All you had to do was pout and give him those big doe eyes and whatever wish you had would be granted.

You slid off the table seductively and sat beside him, a hand teasingly rubbing his thigh. “It’s gonna be okay, I’ll talk to him and change his mind. Is there anything else you want to get off your chest? Anything I can do to help? You batted your long eyelashes, hand still rubbing his thigh as you felt him relax under your touch.

He turned to look at you, eyes darting to stare at your bare thighs then your lips. “Anything huh?” You nodded slowly, and he inched closer to you. As he spoke, you could feel his warm breath on your face.

“You have the face of an angel and the body of a porn star. I bet after I’m finished with you, I could turn you into one—if you let me.” The words tumbled out of his mouth before he could stop them and you tried to speak but no sound came out.

What were you doing? Your father didn’t send you here for his ex-employees to speak to you as though you were a piece of meat. But you couldn’t deny, his words left you soaked and eager.

“Not so bold now, are you?” He chuckled darkly, a hand somehow finding its way around your neck as he forced you to look at him. “You’ve been eyeing me since the moment I walked in. You’re a slut, you want this.”

“Nicholas, my father—”

He interjected before you could continue. “Sweetheart, your father isn’t here. That means I can have my way with you and show him he can’t fucking fire me and get away with it.”

He stood, pulling you up by your neck firmly but gently and put you to sit on the desk in the same position he first saw you. An involuntary gasp escaped your lips as his wet tongue slid from your neck up to your ear.

“Fuck, m’gonna have so much fun with you. You’re gonna let me right? You asked if there’s anything you can do to help. This is it.”

Before you could retort, his lips crashed against yours, claiming you in a deep, all consuming kiss. His hand remained around your neck while the other roamed your body, groping your tits before settling on your thigh.

“Fuck, you’re a dream,” he muttered, pulling away just enough to stare at your swollen lips.

“W-we shouldn’t,” you finally managed to say, breath heaving from the intensity of the kiss.

He licked his lips before looking down at the unmistakable sight of you clenching your thighs. “Oh sweetheart, you know we should. Why else would you be clenching your thighs? Now say it.”

Your breathing grew heavier as he pried open your legs, fingers finding your flimsy thong before he ripped it off.

“We should.” Your voice cracked as the cool air from the air conditioner in the office hit your pussy. A smug smirk plastered on Nicholas’ face, his eyes locked on yours while his fingers inched higher until they reached your pussy.

“God, you’re such a slut. You’re soaked,” he chuckled.

Your hand gripped his bicep as two fingers found your heat, giving you no time to adjust. They worked with precision immediately, thrusting and curling as you were forced to look into his dark eyes.

“You’re so fucking tight baby,” he cooed, his fingers speeding up. You didn’t want to admit you were enjoying this but the sound your pussy was making gave you all the confirmation you needed.

Despite your efforts, you let out a low moan the second his thumb connected pressed against clit. His double efforts had you squirming on the table, your legs shaking as his fingers curled then sped up.

“You love this. What would daddy dearest think seeing his slutty daughter get used?”

Before you could stop yourself, you let out a cry, your orgasm hitting you like a freight train as you soaked his fingers and the desk below.

“Fucking hell. Did you really just squirt from me fingering you on your dad’s desk. Oh I’m gonna have so much fun with a slut like you.” His words made you shiver and your head lulled on his shoulder, shame filling you but he wasn’t finished yet. Not even close.

He grabbed you by the hair, pulling you off the desk and shoving you onto your knees. “Unbuckle my belt,” he uttered, tone low and commanding. Your shaky hands went to his pants, unbuckling the belt slowly. You pulled his pants down, eyes widening at the large dent in his boxers. He was hard.

“I didn’t tell you to pull my pants down but since you’re so eager, take my dick out and suck it.” Manipulation was doused in his words but at that point, you didn’t care. Or maybe you did. All you knew was that you were ready to have his dick down your throat. Your shaky hands pulled his boxers down and he sprang free, thick, long and veiny. You had to admit, the minute he walked through the door, you knew a man like him was huge.

“Take it down your fucking throat like a good girl,” he commanded, hands tangling in your braids.

With your gaze locked on his, you slowly took him into your mouth earning a low groan. As you took him deeper, your tongue swirled along the shaft, getting it sloppy the way you knew he liked it.

“Just like that, you’re a pro,” he moaned, his dark gaze staring down at you.

You deep throated him, blessed to have to no gag reflex. Your hands massaged his heavy balls and soon, you picked up a steady rhythm, bobbing your head as your mouth made filthy noises that echoed throughout your father’s office.

“Fuck, I was right. You’re exactly like a pornstar,” he began, now thrusting his hips forward, “such a fucking whore, just slobbering all over my cock.”

Your nails dug into his thighs as he held your hand and brought you down on his cock at the same pace he was thrusting into your mouth. The tip hit the back of your throat repeatedly and all you could do was moan in response.

“I love it when a girl moans with my dick in her mouth. You’re so perfect,” he murmured.

At his praises you used as much tongue as you could, gliding it along his thick length as he fucked your throat.

“Fuck sweetheart, I’m gonna cum. And you’re gonna swallow it all. Open up that fucking throat.”

He held you down on his cock, your nose touching his pelvis and you swallowed obediently as soon as his load filled your mouth. He moaned above you, muttering curses as the last of his cum sprayed on your tongue.

He let go of your braids and took ahold of his still hard cock. “Stick that tongue out, let me see.” You did as you were told, sticking your tongue out. He slapped his cock on your tongue and across your cheek, smirking above you. “That’s a good girl, now get up and sit on the desk.”

Rising to your knees, you sat on the desk and he positioned himself in front of you. “Now, I’m gonna give that tight, wet pussy what it’s craving but first, you have to beg me for it.”

You knew exactly what he meant and without missing a beat, you did as instructed. “P-please Nicholas, please, I need your cock.” A small slap interrupted you, whipping your head to the side, though the force wasn’t enough to cause pain.

“Call me daddy,” he growled. Your breath hitched at the pure taboo of his expectations. You called your own father, daddy. And now he wanted you to call him daddy while you begged for him to fuck you in your actual daddy’s office. “C’mon sweetheart, I don’t have all fucking day.”

“Please daddy,” you began, a look of desperation plastered across your face. “I need your cock. Please fuck me daddy.”

He was clearly satisfied and he lined the raw bulbous tip with your leaking entrance. You gasped involuntarily, feeling him slap it on your clit a few times before he pushed inside you.

“So goddamn tight,” he groaned, looking down at your pussy just swallowing him. His hand snaked around your neck once more as you adjusted to size, pussy welcoming him inside your walls.

“Daddy,” you moaned softly, as he began pounding into you. Your moans made him feral and his thrusts reflected it, the desk shaking as he slammed into you, hand wrapped securely around your neck. Your hands went to the back of his neck, clawing and clutching, feeling him repeatedly slam against that sweet spot inside you.

“You love my cock don’t you? You’re a fucking whore for me, c’mon, say it,” he demanded, pounding into you like his life depended on it.

“I love your cock daddy,” you cried out. The whole top floor probably heard your screams but you didn’t care. “I’m a whore for you, I’m your whore daddy!”

“That’s my good girl.” His thrusts grew more frantic and he reached between your bodies, rubbing rough circles on your bundle of nerves as you convulsed and throbbed under his touch.

“Cum on daddy’s cock. Cum on my cock while I fuck you like a slut on your dad’s desk.” You cried out, pussy clamping down on his cock as an intense orgasm took ahold of you. Your entire body shook and your hands went to his ass, pulling him in even deeper as you came on his cock.

“Shit, that’s my good girl, now turn around. I wanna see that ass bounce on my cock.”

He flipped you around effortlessly, pushing you flat on the table as you arched your back. “That’s it, now spread that ass let me see.” You spread your ass open and felt him spit on your pussy before his cock dragged along your folds. He sunk into you from behind, his cock angling even deeper at this angle and he slapped your ass as he began pounding into you.

“God. That fucking ass, you’re so sexy baby,” he muttered, rolling his hips as his pace increased.

You bounced your ass back against him, earning another slap and a deep moan as he fucked you against the desk. You were so caught up in his cock filling you up and hitting all the right spots that you almost missed the bright light out of the corner of your eye. Almost.

“W-what are you doing?” you rasped, still fucking yourself on his hard cock.

“Recording our first memory,” he said, though he tone was tinged with something darker.

You moaned as he slapped your ass, his other hand clutching his phone tightly as he recorded his cock disappearing inside you.

“Who’s making you cream all over his cock? Huh?” he asked, pulling your hair so your back arched even deeper.

“You are daddy! Only y-you!” you cried out, earning a low chuckle.

“That’s a good girl. Such a fucking slut letting me record you getting utterly fucked on your dad’s desk and calling me daddy while you’re at it? God,” he sneered.

Your pussy clenched even tighter around his cock at his words, the stretch burning but pleasurable and you knew you were on the brink of an orgasm.

“Gonna cum on daddy’s cock? Yeah? Beg me,” he growled, angling his phone even closer to your pussy showing just how much wetter you were getting.

“Please daddy. Please can I cum? Please let me cum on your cock, I’m your dirty slut,” you sobbed, tears of pleasure rolling down your cheeks.

“Well since you asked so nicely, cum on my cock,” he urged.

You gripped the edge of the desk, a loud moan escaping your lips as your juices soaked his cock that was pumping inside you. You sobbed from the sensitivity, holding out your hand to slow his movements but he just held it behind your back.

“I’m gonna cum inside this needy pussy. Gonna breed you so the baby that grows inside you can be my ticket to your dad’s empire. Gonna get you fucking pregnant so I can be the father to his grandkids,” he chuckled darkly.

“Breed me daddy,” you croaked out and that was all it took.

Nicholas stilled inside you, his cock throbbing and spurting his seed deep inside your pussy. You moaned, collapsing on the desk as your pussy milked him of every last drop.

A swooshing sound you recognized as the sound an iPhone made when an email was sent snapped you back to reality. Though, you were too fucked out to mention it but it seemed Nicholas read your mind.

“Just a heads up, I sent that little recording of me fucking you to your dad. We’ll see if firing me was worth it,” he said, darkly.

“P-please,” you uttered weakly.

“Oh sweetheart, it’s already done. Daddy will see how much of a fucking slut and pornstar his innocent little girl really is. That’ll fucking show him.”

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Tags: @blackynsupremacy @hoffmansgirl @nicholaschavezslut69 @rain-likes-purple

[loving-daisy]

Soft Spot | Theodore Nott x Reader

loving-daisy masterlist

Words: 8.1k

Summary: Theodore Nott didn't believe in love, but no one quite has ever made him feel like his best friend's younger sister, Y/N Malfoy.

Warnings: mentioned death of a loved one

Inspired by the song Soft Spot by keshi

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Theodore Nott wasn’t the type to openly express his feelings, least of all to someone like her. Y/N was a Malfoy, after all, and despite their shared house and mutual acquaintances, there was an unspoken divide between them.

Theodore Nott and Y/N Malfoy had always known each other, and their families had been good friends for many years. Growing up, they were frequently dragged together at family gatherings, whether at Malfoy Manor or in the gardens of the Nott estate.

Theodore remembered her as a little girl, a bit shy but was always the first to stand up for what she believed in, always the first to make sure he wasn’t left out of games or conversations, and always the first to offer a hug when things weren’t going well. He especially remembered her as the one who rushed up to him the first time she saw him after his mother had died. It was the first time, after his mother, he had ever received a hug from anyone. And that stook to him. 

But when they entered Hogwarts, everything changed. As Theodore and Draco were in the same year, they entered first, meaning it had been a few months before he got to see the young Malfoy again. They weren’t particularly close, no. So, they had no reason to keep up with each other’s business. 

The following year, as the young Malfoy entered Hogwarts, Y/N, like Draco, seemed to easily settle into her role in the Slytherin House—charming, sharp-tongued, with a quiet confidence. She wasn’t like the little Y/N he had once known when they were younger. She felt different. Like a little flower waiting to blossom.

With Draco being a protective brother, the young Malfoy quickly became a part of Draco’s inner circle with him, Blaise, and Pansy. 

Despite being in the same friend group for a couple of years, Theodore always felt that she was untouchable, in a way—too much of her family’s reputation clung to her for him to ever really consider her an equal.  Not to mention that she was his best friend’s little sister.

Yet today… there was something different. As she moved down the hall, her gaze still hovering on him for just a heartbeat longer than necessary, Theodore couldn’t help but feel like there was more to Y/N than the icy, untouchable Malfoy name. Her smile was fleeting, but it made him question everything he had assumed about the youngest Malfoy.

“Are you going to stare at that book all day, Nott?” Her tone was teasing, light, but there was an underlying note of something more—something that hinted she had noticed his attention.

His heart skipped, and he quickly looked up, startled. "I… uh, wasn’t staring at the book," he said quickly, unsure how to respond.

Malfoy smirked, clearly entertained by his flustered response. “I’m sure,” she said with a raised eyebrow, her tone dipping into something more challenging.

“Anyways,” she started, “I heard you’re not coming to the Hogsmeade trip again. Why so?” 

“I’m…uh…busy.” 

The girl scoffed, rolling her eyes. “Busy with what? Staring at another book?” 

“I…”

Theodore heard the girl groan.

“Come on, Theo, don’t you want to spend some time with us? With me?” Y/N asked, her gaze on him lingering for a few beats. 

Theodore's cheeks flushed, but he couldn't help but admire her boldness. It wasn't just that she had taken him off guard; it was also that she appeared so at ease with herself, so confident in her demeanor. She didn't need to prove anything to anybody, which was both frustrating and intriguing.

"I didn't know you wanted me to be there," he eventually mumbled, the words escaping before he could stop them. He quickly regretted it, although Y/N did not appear offended. Instead, she inclined her head, examining him briefly, her look softening somewhat.

"Well, of course, Theo," she said, her voice still light but with an edge that indicated she wasn't completely dismissive. "You are our friend after all." 

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Theodore felt out of place as he walked through the snow-covered streets of Hogsmeade, the air frigid and sharp against his skin. He'd spent the last few weeks avoiding this—and everyone. But something had changed. It was something about Y/N and how she approached and invited him to join. He had been reluctant, questioning if he was ready for the social engagement. But now, with the wind cutting his cheeks and the promise of Y/N's grin waiting for him, he was determined to overcome his second thoughts.

When he spotted the group outside the Three Broomsticks, the first thing that struck him was how normal they all looked, standing together, chatting and laughing as if nothing had changed.

Draco was leaning against the wall, his arms crossed in his trademark pose, while Blaise stood nearby, looking far more interested in the weather than in the conversation. Pansy was standing just a little farther down, her laughter carrying in the cold air, and Y/N was beside her, looking effortlessly calm, her eyes scanning the crowd.

As Theodore drew closer, Draco was the first to notice him. He straightened up and blinked in surprise. “Nott? You’re actually here?”

Theodore smiled a little awkwardly and nodded. “Yeah. Thought I’d join you lot for once.”

Draco raised an eyebrow, clearly surprised, but there was no mocking in his voice. “You’ve been a bit of a ghost lately. Didn’t think you’d show up.”

Theodore shrugged, trying to downplay his nerves. “Guess I just needed a change. Why not join the fun for once?”

Blaise, who had been watching the exchange silently, finally spoke up. “Well, well. The reclusive Theodore Nott emerges from the shadows.” His tone was teasing, but there was no real judgment behind it. Blaise knew Theodore well enough to tell when something was up.

Theodore chuckled but his gaze shifted to the young Malfoy, and his heart skipped a beat.

She looked at him with a warm stare as if she wasn't surprised to find him here. Something about how she looked made him feel like he belonged, as if his hesitancy and distance had been rewarded only for this moment.

The girl smiled, her lips curving gently as she stepped toward him. “I’m glad you came,” she said, her voice quieter than the others, but her words carried a warmth that sent a shiver through him. “We’ve missed you.”

Theodore swallowed, feeling a little embarrassed by how his chest tightened at her words. “I’ve missed you all too,” he said, his voice unexpectedly soft as he gently looked at the young Malfoy. He realized then that he hadn’t been missing just the group but the feeling of belonging with them—of being able to be himself without pretending.

Pansy, ever observant, smirked at the exchange, her sharp eyes catching the subtle way they looked at each other. “Interesting. Finally dragged him out of his cave, Malfoy?”

The girl rolled her eyes, but the smile never left her face. “Not everything’s a game, Pansy.”

“Clearly,” Pansy teased, but her voice was light, playful.

Draco, still standing nearby, was watching Theodore closely. There was a flicker of something in his eyes—curiosity, maybe—but he didn’t comment further. Instead, he clapped Theodore on the back, more out of habit than anything else. “Well, now that you’re here, don’t expect to be left out of anything. Let’s get inside and warm up.”

Theodore trailed behind Y/N as they entered the Three Broomsticks, embracing the comfort of the fire as soon as he did so. 

He looked around at the busy pub, but his focus kept returning to her. She was standing next to him, close enough that he could feel the soft brush of her sleeve against his arm.

Theodore was unsure what had changed. He had no idea how things had changed so quickly, but now they were together, surrounded by friends, and for the first time in a long time, he felt like he was exactly where he needed to be.

As they settled at a table, the usual banter started up again. Draco and Blaise were arguing about something trivial, Pansy was making her usual sarcastic comments, and Y/N was laughing quietly at it all.

But Theodore found himself watching her, how she smiled, and her eyes sparkled when she laughed. There was something so easy and effortless about her presence, something that made him feel at home.

At that moment, he realized that showing up today was the right choice. He wasn’t just there for fun; he was there because he wanted to be. And more importantly, he wanted to be there with her.

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Theodore found himself sitting alone at the Slytherin table in the Great Hall, pushing his food around without really eating. His mind is elsewhere, and his usually calm demeanor has shifted to a kind of quiet detachment. He looks pale, his eyes a little duller than usual, as though he’s carrying a heavy weight no one else can see. 

Y/N, seated at the opposite end of the table, can't help but notice. She studies him for a minute, sensing something is wrong but unsure how to approach him.

After a while, she stands up and walks over to Theodore’s side of the table, slipping into the seat next to him. He doesn’t look up at her immediately, but she can feel the tension from him.

“Hey,” she says softly, her voice gentle but firm, not wanting to startle him. “You’ve hardly touched your food.”

Theodore flinches slightly as if her voice pulled him out of some distant thought. He forces a small smile, but it doesn’t reach his eyes. “I’m not really hungry,” he mutters, his tone clipped and almost dismissive.

The girl studies him closely, catching the way his fingers are gripping the edge of his plate tightly, his knuckles slightly white. She knows Theodore well enough to recognize the signs. There’s something deeper going on—something more personal than just not feeling hungry.

“It’s okay to not be okay, you know,” The girl says quietly, her voice low so only he can hear. She leans in slightly, trying to make him feel comfortable. “You don’t have to pretend everything’s fine.”

Theodore shifts uncomfortably in his seat, his gaze dropping to his hands. His heart is heavy, and the grief of losing his mother years ago still stings in ways he doesn’t often let himself feel. It’s the anniversary of her death, and he’s been trying to keep himself busy, to bury the sadness deep within him.

He’s unsure how to express this grief, especially not to anyone at Hogwarts—especially not to Y/N Malfoy, who always seems so put together.

“I’m fine,” he says quickly, but his voice wavers slightly. It’s a lie, and he knows it, but he can’t bring himself to admit it. Not here, not now.

Y/N doesn’t push, but she doesn’t back off either. She knows when to give someone space and when to offer comfort gently. 

She watches him for a moment longer, then says softly, “You don’t have to hide it, Theodore. You don’t need to be the strong, silent type all the time.”

Theodore feels a pang in his chest at her words, their raw vulnerability cutting through his carefully constructed walls. He’s always been the quiet one, the one who keeps his emotions buried. But Y/N sees right through him, making him feel exposed, almost too fragile.

“I don’t… want to burden anyone,” he admits quietly, his voice low. “I don’t want anyone to see… how much it still hurts.”

Y/N’s heart softens at his words, and she reaches out gently, placing her hand over his on the table. The gesture is simple but sincere, an unspoken offer of support. “You’re not burdening me,” she says quietly. “You don’t have to carry everything on your own, you know. You don’t have to hide it from me.”

Theodore tenses at the touch, but there’s no bitterness in it. He doesn’t pull away, but the vulnerability is too much to handle all at once. He takes a deep breath as if trying to steady himself, but his chest tightens. “It’s… hard. I don’t know how to talk about it.”

The girl squeezes his hand, her touch reassuring and firm. “I’m not asking you to talk about it if you don’t want to. But you can share what you feel whenever you’re ready.”

Theodore looks up at her, then meets her gaze for the first time since she has sat down. Her eyes are warm and understanding, and she expresses quiet support. She doesn’t expect anything from him, making the moment feel safe.

His heart beats a little faster as he realizes that Y/N isn't judging him despite how difficult this moment is. She’s offering him the space to simply be.

“I don’t know how to do this…” he murmurs, his voice trembling slightly. “I don’t know how to let people in like that.”

The girl gives him a small, understanding smile. “You don’t have to have it all figured out right now. But I’m here for you, Theodore. Whenever you’re ready.”

For a long moment, Theodore doesn’t speak. He just sits there, feeling the weight of his grief, the warmth of her hand still over his. It’s comforting, in a way he doesn’t fully understand yet. Slowly, the tightness in his chest begins to ease, though it doesn’t go away entirely. For the first time, he doesn’t feel like he has to bury everything deep down. He doesn’t have to hide.

“Thank you,” he finally says, his voice barely a whisper.

Y/N simply nods, her hand still resting over his, offering the quiet reassurance that she’ll be there for him, no matter how much he chooses to share.

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Theodore, once withdrawn and shy, now spends almost every free moment with Y/N. Maybe even more than he spends time with Draco and Blaise. 

They study together, talk about their dreams and worries, and share moments of quiet companionship. There are still times when Theodore retreats into himself, but Y/N has learned to recognize the signs. She gives him the space he needs without pushing, and when he’s ready to talk, she’s there.

Theodore leans back into the couch, his feet resting on the edge of a table, hands folded across his chest. His posture is relaxed, no longer the stiff, withdrawn figure he used to be when he first arrived at Hogwarts. Sitting beside him with her legs tucked under her, Y/N smiles as they talk about everything and nothing at all.

“You know,” The girl says, grinning mischievously, “I’ve never understood why you’re so good at Potions, but I can never get a single spell right without accidentally turning something into a pile of mush.”

Theodore laughs quietly, the sound surprisingly light. “It’s all about concentration,” he says, voice teasing but warm. “You need to focus. You’re too easily distracted.”

The girl raises an eyebrow. “Says the guy who once spilled an entire cauldron of Veritaserum because he got distracted by a book.”

Theodore chuckles at the memory, shaking his head. “I didn’t spill it because I was distracted! I just... didn’t realize the book had melted into the cauldron.”

Y/N laughs, and it’s a full, genuine laugh that fills the room. Moments like this make Theodore realize how much his friendship with her has changed him. She’s never judged him for his quirks or awkwardness; she’s simply accepted him for who he is, even if he’s sometimes a little scatterbrained.

“It’s honestly refreshing,” Y/N continues, “having a best friend who can make me laugh. You’ve got a dry sense of humor, but it works.”

Theodore smiles, but there's something more in his gaze—a soft affection. “I’m glad you think so.”

He glanced over at her. “You know, for someone who’s always so guarded, you’re surprisingly easy to talk to.”

She scoffed, but there was no bite in it. “You think so?”

He nodded, his smile faltering slightly. “Yeah. You get me, Malfoy. It’s… not something I’m used to.”

She glanced up at him. “I get you?”

Theodore’s usual air of cool detachment was replaced by something softer, something almost vulnerable. “Yeah. You do. And I get you, too. It’s…” He faltered as though struggling to find the right words. “It’s easy with you.”

“I don’t think I could have gotten through everything without you,” Theodore says, his voice quieter, more serious. “You’ve been there for me when I needed someone the most, even when you didn’t know how to help. You always know exactly when to just... listen. Or sit in silence with me.”

“I’m glad,” she said quietly, her voice soft.

They continued sitting in comfortable silence, the weight of their conversation hanging between them. There’s a brief pause, a shared understanding between them. They don’t need to say much more.

She wasn’t just the friend he had relied on for the past few months—she was the person who made him feel seen, understood, and… well, maybe more than just a friend. Theodore wasn’t sure yet.

The silence between the two friends was broken when Pansy saunters into the Slytherin dungeons, her sharp eyes darting between Y/N and Theodore as she took her place across them together with Blaise. 

"So, when's the big confession happening, hmm?" She teased. 

The young Malfoy laughed at her friend’s antics.

"What?" Theodore asks.

Pansy rolled her eyes at the response. "Come on, you two. We’ve all noticed it. You’re practically joined at the hip these days." 

 "Oh, please, Pansy. It’s just friendship." Y/N tried to convince. 

"Sure, just friendship. You two have spent nearly every waking moment together for the past year. It's definitely just friendship."

Theodore and Y/N exchange a glance, both slightly flushed but unwilling to admit anything.

Their friendship has always been easy, natural, but lately, there's been something more—something neither of them has quite figured out yet. The teasing from their friends only makes them more aware of it, but neither is quite ready to confront the possibility that it might be more than just friendship.

"Honestly, you two are impossible," Blaise muttered. 

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Theodore’s chest tightened as he watched the stranger lean in toward Y/N, his hand brushing her arm casually as he spoke. She laughed, the sound soft and familiar, but the sight of her so at ease with someone else sent a wave of jealousy surging through Theodore’s veins.

He turned away sharply, gripping the bar's edge until his knuckles turned white.

This wasn’t fair.

Y/N had every right to talk to whomever she wanted. She wasn’t his. She’d never been his. And yet, the idea of someone else taking his place in her life was unbearable.

“Someone looks like they’re about to explode,” Pansy drawled as she slid beside him, putting on her gloves. “What’s the matter, Nott? Can’t stand the competition?”

“Not now, Pansy,” he muttered, not even glancing her way.

She smirked, clearly delighted by his discomfort. “You know, Nott, for someone so clever, you’re absolutely hopeless. Honestly, how many more boys asking her out, will it take before you admit you like her?”

Theodore’s jaw tightened. “I’m not—I don’t believe in love.”

It's true.

Theodore didn’t believe in love.

He didn’t believe in feelings, in general.

Growing up without the presence of his mother, Theodore’s father needed to emphasize and demand that love doesn’t exist. And this was proven true when his own father didn’t even show up to his mother’s funeral.

“Save it,” she interrupted, waving a hand dismissively. “We all see it. You’ve been pining for months. The only person who doesn’t know is Y/N herself. Or maybe…you’re the only one unaware of it.”

His silence was answer enough.

Pansy leaned in, lowering her voice conspiratorially. “You know, if you keep standing here brooding like some tragic hero, you’re going to lose her. Maybe it’s time you did something about it.”

Theodore’s eyes flicked toward the Malfoy girl again. She was still talking to the stranger, her smile easy and genuine. He hated how natural they looked together as if there was no room for him in her world anymore.

“Do something like what?” he asked bitterly. “Interrupt their conversation and declare my undying love? That’ll go over well.”

Pansy rolled her eyes. “You’re hopeless. But fine, keep sulking. Just don’t be surprised when someone else sweeps her off her feet while you’re busy hiding in the shadows.”

With that, she slipped away, catching sight of Blaise as they headed together to meet Draco, leaving Theodore alone with his thoughts as he stared at the young Malfoy.

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The evening at the Three Broomsticks was winding down, and the company was unwinding after a few rounds of butterbeer. The warmth of the fire and the murmur of laughter filled the room, but as the clock struck later in the evening, the talk inevitably moved on to the approaching Yule Ball.

Draco, who had been taking in his drink as he listened to Pansy discuss prospective clothing options, smirked at Blaise. "So, are you intending to attend the Yule Ball this year, or are you avoiding it for some other strange reason, like you did last year?" 

Blaise rolled his eyes but didn't appear offended. "I am going, of course. I have a few possibilities. Not all of us have to scurry for a date like some people." He gave Draco a playful look, who shrugged unconcernedly.

"Right," Draco murmured, turning his attention to Theodore sitting next to his sister. "What about you, Theodore? Have you planned a date for the ball, or will you sit this one out as usual?" 

“I don’t plan on going,” Theodore said, his voice casual. “It’s not really my thing. Besides, I don’t have the energy to pretend to enjoy that sort of thing.”

Draco raised an eyebrow. “You really are a buzzkill, aren’t you? It’s one night, Theo. A chance to get dressed up and show off a little. You could at least think about it.” He glanced at his sister momentarily as if daring her to chime in.

Before Theodore could respond, he noticed Y/N, who had been quietly watching the conversation unfold, was now looking at him with a faint frown.

“What about you, little Malfoy?” Blaise asked, turning his attention to her. “You planning on going?”

The girl nodded. “I am, actually,” she said lightly, glancing at Theodore. “But Theo,” she added, her voice soft but firm, “you should reconsider. You should go. It’s your last chance to have fun, enjoy the music, and dance. You can’t just skip it because it’s ‘not your thing.’”

Theodore, who had been about to protest, looked at her. Her eyes were serious, and a kindness in her expression made something shift inside him.

He’d never thought about the Yule Ball as something he could enjoy, but Y/N was looking at him as if it was necessary as if it was important for him to go.

“I don’t know, Y/N,” he replied, his voice quieter. “It’s just not my scene. You know how I am with those things.”

“I do,” She said, her voice softening. She leaned a little closer, her hand brushing against his on the table. “But this isn’t just about going to a ball. It’s about having fun with your friends. You don’t have to have everything figured out or be the life of the party. Just go for the night. You don’t want to regret it later.”

Her words were sincere, and for a moment, Theodore felt something warm in his chest. How she looked at him, almost as if she could see through all the walls he’d built up around himself, made him reconsider.

“Come on, Theo,” Draco chimed in with a smirk. “You can’t possibly say no after Y/N’s given her stamp of approval. It’s practically an order.”

Blaise added, “You might actually have fun, you know. And who knows? Maybe someone will ask you to dance.”

Theodore snorted, though it was more out of surprise at the direction the conversation had taken than anything else. “You think I’d get asked to dance?” he said, his tone a little more teasing than usual, but his voice had a hint of self-consciousness.

“Of course,” Y/N said with a playful grin, her hand lightly resting on his. “Anyone would be lucky to have you as a dance partner.”

Her words were simple, but they made his heart race.

He didn’t know why, but hearing her say that made the idea of the ball seem less like a burden and more like something he might actually enjoy—especially if she was going to be there.

“Alright, fine,” he finally relented, glancing at the young Malfoy. “I’ll think about it. But I’m not promising I’ll enjoy it.”

“You will,” she said, her smile lighting up her face. “Trust me.”

There was a small pause as the group resumed chatting, but Theodore’s mind was no longer on the conversation. Instead, he found himself thinking about the Yule Ball in a new light.

Maybe it wouldn’t be so bad. Maybe it could even be fun.

And, if nothing else, he’d get to spend the evening with Y/N and the rest of his friends.

He looked at her then, really looked at her, and for the first time, he understood. She wasn’t asking him to transform into someone he wasn’t. She wasn’t asking him to be the life of the party or to pretend to enjoy every aspect of the night. She was just asking him to show up. To be there with the people who mattered, to make memories that, for once, didn’t revolve around his usual reluctance to engage in things like this.

For a moment, Theodore just stared at her, the warmth of the lights flickering in her eyes. He felt that familiar tug in his chest, that sensation of something more than just friendship. But he didn’t let it show, not yet. He wasn’t ready for that conversation.

“You’re not going to let this go, are you?” he asked, his voice quieter now.

The girl smiled and shook her head. “Nope. You’re going to the ball, Theo. And you’re going to have a good time. We’ll make sure of it.”

He sighed, but the corner of his mouth lifted slightly. “Alright, fine. I’ll go. But only because you said so.”

Y/N grinned, her eyes lighting up. “I knew you’d come around.”

Blaise coughed. “Softie.” He muttered, shaking his head. 

“Shut up, Blaise.” 

He wasn’t sure what he expected to happen, but as the snow continued to fall outside, he realized that this might just be the start of something unexpected—something he wasn’t ready to let go of just yet.

Y/N had a way of making everything seem possible, and for the first time in a long while, Theodore was starting to believe it.

Blaise wasn’t wrong, though. Theodore might have had a soft spot for the young Malfoy.

｡ﾟ•┈୨♡୧┈• ｡ﾟ｡ﾟ•┈୨♡୧┈• ｡ﾟ｡ﾟ•┈୨♡୧┈• ｡ﾟ

The Yule Ball was well underway, with the Great Hall sparkling beneath a canopy of floating golden stars, their gentle light reflecting off the magical ice sculptures dispersed across the hall. Students at Hogwarts moved in bunches.

The anticipation was apparent as rich, colorful dresses whirled beneath the dazzling floating candle lights. The air was filled with a subtle buzz of music, the delicate sounds of the orchestra flowing over the room, and laughing that seemed to come from everyone.

Y/N Malfoy stood near the entrance, her figure effortlessly poised in a gown of silver silk that shimmered with each movement. The dress hugged her form perfectly, a subtle tribute to her aristocratic lineage, but the soft drape of the fabric gave her an almost ethereal quality, as though she were more a figure from a painting than a living person. Her hair was styled in an elegant updo, small curls framing her face, as her eyes scanned the room.

Theodore Nott lingered near the refreshment table, quietly observing the swirling crowd. Unlike his peers, he didn’t seek the spotlight. His tailored black robes were simple but elegant. In usual Theodore fashion, the boy preferred the edges of the room, where he could avoid unnecessary chatter and instead focus on the rhythm of the night.

“You look like you’d rather be anywhere else,” The girl teased as she approached him, a faint smirk tugging at her lips.

“Not anywhere,” Theodore replied, his voice calm and steady. “Just somewhere quieter.” 

He tilted his head slightly. “And you? Surely, the Malfoy princess enjoys a night like this.”

The girl hummed in response, shrugging nonchalantly.

｡ﾟ•┈୨♡୧┈• ｡ﾟ｡ﾟ•┈୨♡୧┈• ｡ﾟ｡ﾟ•┈୨♡୧┈• ｡ﾟ

Theodore continued to stand off to the side throughout the Yule Ball, his eyes drifting over the swirling crowd. The music was loud, the flickering candles cast a warm glow across the room, and the students' laughter filled the air. But in the middle of it all, his gaze was fixed on one person-Y/N.

Blaise tilted his head, his dark eyes scanning the crowd with a bored yet calculating air. “You’ve been staring at her all night, Theo,” he said smoothly, his voice low enough to avoid prying ears.

Theodore didn’t look away from where Y/N Malfoy stood, laughing lightly at Pansy's judging words directed towards Harry Potter and his unfortunate date. The girl's smile was radiant, her eyes sparkling with amusement as she exchanged playful banter with Pansy. 

Theodore felt his chest tighten as he watched her, unable to look away. The way she laughed and how her eyes lit up when she was genuinely happy. It was all so mesmerizing.

With a jolt, he realized that he hadn't just noticed how beautiful she was; he had fallen for it.

For her.

“I have not,” Theodore replied evenly, though his tone lacked conviction.

Blaise chuckled, taking a leisurely sip from his goblet. “Right. You’re just monitoring the general well-being of the crowd. Completely selfless of you.”

Theodore finally tore his gaze away, fixing Blaise with a sharp look. “What do you want me to say?”

Blaise raised a brow, a slow smirk spreading across his face. “Oh, I don’t know. Maybe something like, ‘Y/N looks stunning tonight, and it’s driving me mad watching her spend time with someone else.’”

Theodore frowned, his grip tightening on his goblet. “She does look stunning,” he admitted quietly, his voice carrying a rare softness.

“Understatement of the century,” Blaise said, smirking. “Every bloke in this room has noticed, but she hasn’t noticed any of them.”

Theodore’s frown deepened. “What are you getting at, Zabini?”

Blaise sighed dramatically as though speaking to a particularly dense child. “I’m saying, Nott, that she hasn’t noticed them because she’s too busy noticing you. And instead of doing something about it, you’re standing here sulking into your drink.”

Theodore looked at him sharply, but Blaise remained unfazed, his smirk unwavering.

“Don’t be ridiculous,” Theodore muttered.

“Ridiculous? Hardly.” Blaise gestured toward the Malfoy girl with his goblet. “She’s barely looked at any other boy all night. But every time she glances over here—and she has, by the way—you’re too busy brooding to notice. Not to mention how she literally turned down every boy that asked her to dance.”

Theodore glanced back at Y/N, his jaw tightening.

“She’s just…” He trailed off, struggling to find the right words.

“Perfect?” Blaise supplied. “Unattainable? Completely and utterly worth it?”

She’s a dream. 

“She’s Draco’s little sister.” Theodore shot him a withering look. “You’re enjoying this far too much.”

“Immensely,” Blaise said with a grin. “But don’t let that stop you. I’m certain our friend would be cool about it. Go on, lover boy. Do something about it before her date gets it into his head to try to get it on with her even after beyond this night.”

For a moment, Theodore didn’t move, his mind racing. Then, without a word, he set his goblet down and stepped away from Blaise.

“Finally,” Blaise muttered, shaking his head in amused disbelief as he watched Theodore cross the room.

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The music in the Great Hall slowed, shifting to a softer, more intimate melody. Couples on the dance floor moved closer, their steps in perfect harmony with the hauntingly beautiful tune. Y/N had been content lingering in the shadows of the grand room, nursing a goblet of punch when Theodore approached her.

He stood with his hands tucked into the pockets of his tailored robes, his sharp features softened by the warm candlelight.

“You’ve avoided every dance invitation tonight,” he said, his tone dry but not unkind.

The girl raised an eyebrow. “And yet here you are, about to offer one.”

“Only because I suspect you’ll say yes.” He extended a hand, his expression unreadable but his voice carrying the faintest hint of a challenge mixed with nervousness.

For a moment, Y/N hesitated. But then she placed her hand in his. “Let’s see if you can keep up, Nott.”

Theodore led her to the dance floor, his movements confident but unshowy. The girl followed his lead, their steps falling effortlessly into sync. 

“You’re surprisingly good at this,” she remarked, glancing up at him.

He smirked. “Surprisingly?”

“Well, you don’t exactly strike me as the waltzing type.”

“Maybe you don’t know me as well as you think,” Theodore replied, his tone low but playful. “I hate to dance, but I’d dance with you.”

He’s never been one for dancing—especially not in front of a crowd—but there’s something about how she looks tonight, something that makes him want to hold onto her forever and show her off to the world as his.

The two swayed to the rhythm, the world around them fading into a blur of swirling gowns and glittering lights. Theodore can’t help but notice how effortless it is to be with her. His nerves, which were there when they first started, slowly fade as he focuses on Y/N. Her laugh, her smile, the way her eyes sparkle with joy—it’s all so captivating.

Y/N glanced up at him. For a moment, the world around them—the glittering lights, the watchful eyes—faded.

"You know, for someone who didn’t want to come to the ball, you seem pretty content dancing here with me."

Theodore glances at her, a small, awkward smile tugging at the corners of his lips. He’s not one for grand events, but Y/N being here beside him makes the entire night feel less daunting. He feels out of place, but the world feels a little smaller in her presence. "It’s... not so bad. Besides, it’s not like I had a better option than being with you. You’re the most stunning person in this room."

Y/N’s heart skips a beat at his words. She’s always known there was something deeper between them, something more than friendship, but hearing him admit it in his quiet, reserved way fills her with warmth.

“You’re full of surprises, Nott. I’m glad you’re here,” she said softly.

Theodore looks down at her, his heart skipping a beat.

He’s not used to compliments or to feeling this seen by someone. There’s a warmth in her voice that he can’t ignore, and for a moment, it feels like the rest of the world has faded away.

They continued to dance, and the silence between them was comfortable now. It wasn’t until the music ended that Theodore played with the idea that maybe love does exist, especially with how Y/N Malfoy was making him feel right now.

｡ﾟ•┈୨♡୧┈• ｡ﾟ｡ﾟ•┈୨♡୧┈• ｡ﾟ｡ﾟ•┈୨♡୧┈• ｡ﾟ

As the music faded, Y/N and Theodore stepped off the dance floor, their steps slowing in unison. She brushed a strand of hair from her face, still feeling the faint adrenaline buzz from the waltz.

Draco strolled over, his expression unreadable at first but softening when he saw the two of them. He was dressed impeccably, as usual, his posture relaxed and confident.

“Well, isn’t this a surprise,” Draco drawled, his lips curving into a slight grin. “You, dancing, Y/N?”

The girl rolled her eyes—this time deliberately—and crossed her arms. “Always so supportive, aren’t you, Draco?”

“Supportive, sure. But mostly curious.” He turned to Theodore with mock seriousness. “What’s your secret? She never agrees to dance with me.”

Theodore shrugged casually. “I have my ways.”

“Must be the brooding charm,” The girl quipped, earning a chuckle from both boys.

Draco smirked. “Brooding? You give him too much credit. He’s been brooding since we were eleven—it’s nothing new.”

“And you’ve been insufferable since we were five,” Theodore shot back smoothly.

“Touché,” Draco conceded, clearly amused.

The playful banter flowed easily between the three of them, the formalities of the ball forgotten. The girl leaned back against one of the stone pillars, letting the moment's warmth wash over her.

“So,” Draco said after a pause, looking between them with a raised eyebrow, “should I be concerned about this little partnership?”

Y/N rolled her eyes again, this time with a smirk. “You act like it's the first time seeing me and Theo together. And Please. Like I’d need your approval for anything.”

Theodore gave her an approving nod. “Now, that’s the Malfoy spirit.”

Draco held up his hands in mock surrender. “Fair enough. Just don’t forget who your favorite brother is.”

“You’re my only brother,” She deadpanned.

“Exactly.” Draco grinned before clapping Theodore on the shoulder. “Keep her out of trouble, yeah?”

Theodore smirked. “No promises.”

“I need another drink.” The young Malfoy declared, pushing off the pillar and brushing past them both. “You coming, Theo?” 

“I’ll meet you there.” He replied.

“Well, well, Nott,” Draco’s voice cut through the music and chatter like a knife, smooth and mocking. “Look at you. I thought you were planning on hiding away all night.”

Theodore narrowed his eyes at Draco but couldn’t help the slight smile that tugged at his lips.

Draco’s smirk widened, and with a dramatic flair, he stepped closer, leaning in as though to whisper a secret. “I’ll admit, I didn’t think you would be the one to sweep her off her feet, but—” He paused, giving Theodore a quick, mischievous look. “—now I’m curious. What exactly are your intentions with her, Nott?”

“My intentions are none of your business, Malfoy,” he said firmly, trying to keep his voice steady, though there was a faint warning tone underneath.

Draco’s smirk only grew, and he leaned in closer, his voice dropping to a whisper. “Just remember, Nott… if you hurt her, there will be consequences.”

It wasn’t said in a threatening tone, but something in Draco’s eyes—a glint of seriousness beneath the teasing mask—made Theodore freeze.

Draco was always fiercely protective of the people he cared about, and Y/N, as his sister, was no exception.

Theodore raised an eyebrow, meeting Draco’s gaze squarely. “You’re really going to try to intimidate me over Y/N, of all people?” He tried to stay composed.

Draco chuckled, straightening up and folding his arms. “I’m just making sure you know the stakes, mate,” he said nonchalantly, though his eyes glimmered with a challenge. “You can be as charming as you like, but don’t forget who you’re dealing with.”

Theodore fought back a smile. “You always take things so seriously, Draco.”

Draco shrugged casually, but the glint in his eyes never faded. “Someone has to keep you in line.”

Before Theodore could respond, Draco gave him a quick, knowing glance and clapped him on the shoulder with an exaggerated show of camaraderie. “Don’t worry, I’ll leave you to your… affairs with my sister. Just don’t mess it up, all right?”

Theodore stared after Draco as he moved through the crowd, the playful tension still hanging in the air. His heart was still pounding slightly from the exchange.

Draco might have been joking, but his words also revealed truth. Theodore wasn’t sure how to navigate the complex feelings he had for Y/N—especially now, when it seemed like the whole world, Draco included, had an opinion on the matter.

Still, a small part of him couldn’t help but feel a little more determined. He wouldn’t let Draco’s teasing—or anyone else’s—stand in the way of what he and Y/N were building together.

As the music swelled and couples swirled around him, Theodore glanced over at Y/N from across the room. She was talking to Pansy again, her expression bright.

He wasn’t going to mess this up, not with her.

With a final glance at Draco, who was now lost in conversation with Blaise, Theodore squared his shoulders and approached Y/N.

He wasn’t going to let anything, or anyone, stop him from finally going after what he wanted.

ﾟ•┈୨♡୧┈• ｡ﾟ｡ﾟ•┈୨♡୧┈• ｡ﾟ｡ﾟ•┈୨♡୧┈• ｡ﾟ

The Yule Ball had faded into the background as Theodore and Y/N found themselves alone in a quiet, secluded room. The soft crackle of the fire filled the silence as Y/N sat across from him, her expression calm, but there was an undeniable tension in the air. The kind that made everything feel more intense, more real.

Theodore’s fingers brushed against the edge of his glass, his thoughts a whirlwind. He hadn’t planned for this. He hadn’t expected to say anything at all, but now, in the quiet room, with Y/N’s gaze steady, the words that had been stuck inside him for so long seemed to burst free, unavoidable.

“Y/N,” he began, his voice quieter than he intended. He cleared his throat, trying to steady himself. “I… I need to say something.”

The girl looked at him, her brow furrowing slightly, her curiosity piqued. “What’s on your mind?”

Theodore swallowed hard, his chest tight. This was harder than anything he had ever done, but it felt like it would eat him up from the inside if he didn't say it now.

“I’ve been trying to ignore it. Trying to tell myself that it’s not a big deal,” he confessed, looking down at his hands for a moment before meeting her gaze again. “But I can’t anymore. I’ve… I’ve fallen for you, Y/N. I think I’ve been in love with you for a while now.”

The words hung in the air, heavy with the weight of truth. Theodore held his breath, waiting for her reaction. His stomach twisted with uncertainty.

What if she didn’t feel the same?

What if he had ruined everything?

The girl didn’t say anything at first. She just watched him, her expression unreadable. Her eyes were soft, though, and her lips parted as if she were about to speak but held back.

Theodore’s heart beat wildly, and his palms suddenly clammy.

“You don’t have to say anything, Y/N,” he rushed to add, his voice shaky. “I just… I needed you to know. I didn’t want to keep it hidden anymore.”

The girl’s gaze softened even more, and she took a small step toward him, closing the distance between them. The firelight reflected in her eyes, making them look even brighter.

Then, finally, she spoke, her voice low and steady.

“Theo,” she said softly, his name like a gentle caress. “I’ve known. I’ve known for a long time.”

Theodore froze, his breath catching in his throat. “What?”

Y/N smiled faintly, a kind of tenderness in her expression that made his heart ache in the best way. “I’ve known. I think I’ve always known. I just… didn’t want to rush you. I wanted you to figure it out in your own time.”

Theodore’s mind raced, processing her words.

She knew? She had known all along?

It was almost too much to take in, but simultaneously, it was like the weight in his chest lifted a little. She hadn’t pushed him away, hadn’t turned him down.

“So… you…” He trailed off, struggling to find the words. “You feel the same?”

The young Malfoy nodded, her smile softening into something more knowing. “I do. I’ve felt the same way for a while now.”

Relief flooded through Theodore, overwhelming him in the best way possible. He couldn’t help but smile back, the tension in his body melting away. He hadn’t expected it to be this easy, this… perfect.

“I didn’t know what to say,” he admitted, his voice a little more relaxed now, the uncertainty slowly fading. “I’ve never been good at this. Saying how I feel.”

“I know,” The girl said, her voice full of understanding. “But you don’t have to be perfect, Theo. You just need to be you. That’s all I’ve ever wanted.”

Theodore chuckled softly, feeling lighter than he had in ages. “I’m not sure I can be anything else.”

She reached out then, her fingers brushing against his, sending a jolt of warmth through him.

He looked at her, his heart pounding again, but this time in excitement rather than fear.

“You don’t have to,” Y/N whispered, leaning closer, her gaze never leaving his. “You’re exactly what I want.”

Without a word, he closed the gap between them, his hands reaching for her, pulling her into him. Her lips met his with a sudden urgency, a kiss that was more than just an exploration. It was a release, a culmination of everything that had been building between them for so long.

Y/N’s hands moved to his chest, fingers trembling against the fabric of his shirt as she pulled him closer, her lips parting slightly, deepening the kiss. Theodore responded without hesitation, his hands moving to her waist, drawing her against him until they were pressed so close he could feel the quick beat of her heart beneath her ribcage.

The firelight danced across their faces, casting a warm, golden glow as they kissed, the world outside this moment disappearing entirely. It was as if they were alone in the world, the only two people who mattered.

Theodore’s head swam with the feeling of her lips on his, the way her body seemed to fit perfectly against his like they had always been meant to be this way.

Y/N’s fingers slid into his hair, pulling him closer, her breath coming faster. He could feel the heat radiating off her skin, the tension between them giving way to something raw and real.

Every touch, every kiss, seemed to ignite something inside of him—something he couldn’t contain, something that had been building for months, years, even finally spilling over.

When they finally pulled away, their breaths were ragged, their faces flushed. Theodore’s chest rose and fell with each breath, his pulse racing in his ears. Y/N’s eyes were wide, her lips swollen from their kiss, and a soft smile played at the corners of her mouth.

“I’ve been waiting for this,” she said, her voice soft but full of affection. “I think we both were.”

Theodore smiled back, feeling like he had just found a piece of himself he never knew was missing. “I think I’ve always known, too,” he said, his voice thick with emotion. “I just had to figure it out.”

The girl chuckled lightly, her hand still resting in his. “Well, I’m glad you did. Because I’ve never been more certain of anything.”

Theodore’s heart skipped a beat. He had never felt more seen, more understood in his life. Everything that had been building inside him, all the uncertainty, the fear of rejection—suddenly, it didn’t matter. She was here with him, and that was all that mattered.

He leaned forward again, this time more slowly, savoring the moment. As their lips met again, it was different—deeper, more intense.

This time, it wasn’t just the thrill of a new kiss. It was the recognition of something real they had both been waiting for. The kiss wasn't just about passion; it was about connection, about sharing something growing between them for longer than either of them realized.

As they broke apart again, they stayed close, their foreheads resting against each other, their breathing still heavy. Theodore's hand reached her cheek, his thumb gently brushing over her skin.

"I don't want this moment to end," he whispered, his voice barely audible, as if speaking too loudly would shatter the peace that had settled over them.

Y/N's eyes met his, and she smiled softly, her fingers curling around his. "It doesn't have to end, Theo," she murmured. "We're just getting started."

And in that moment, Theodore realized that everything had changed. His soft spot for Y/N Malfoy was something deeper than he could have ever anticipated.

They had crossed a line together, but this was just the beginning.

[alienjoyful]

I am a certified farm game lover. I have been playing this genre of game since my brother gave me his old game boy.

Harvest Moon may have been where the farm game genre really got most of its roots but it was quick to spawn more games (Rune Factory ect) that established the genre as a THING way back in the early 2000’s (maybe even earlier honestly).

Stardew Valley has so many obvious roots connecting it to old Harvest Moon and when I first started playing Stardew I assumed everyone knew that.

But I learned quickly that NO people don’t know that. And now EVERY SINGLE farm game gets accused of being a ‘stardew rip off’ which makes me feral!

Listen to me the Farm Game Genre is a THING it always has been and it always will be! No one is ripping anyone off there just making games in a long established and well loved genre! Seriously the Farm Sim tag exists on steam for a reason guys! Did Stardew help introduce people to the genre and add to its popularity? Yes of course. But it is not the first it will not be the last!

That being said if you like Stardew and want to experience other farm games a quick list I threw together:

Harvest Moon - the original HOWEVER i do not recommend any ‘modern’ Harvest Moon as there was an incident with the ownership of the name and now any Harvest Moon made past Harvest Moon 3D: A New Beginning (2012) is basically a fake brandishing the stolen name

Story of Seasons - the new name for the OG Harvest Moon people. They still make games. They’re on Switch and PC and they are pretty cute and fun.

Rune Factory - Farm Game with action rpg elements set in a fantasy world with dragons. An older series that is proof that the farm game genre has always been around. I recommend starting with RF 4 its a personal fav available on PC or Switch RF 5 is also good to start but ive heard others say it has framerate issues.

Stardew Valley - indie farm game that helped bring the farm game genre into the modern spotlight. Clear old school Harvest Moon inspo. Fun lots of mods active community. You probably already know it need i say more.

Sun Haven - indie chibi pixel rune factory light with like 20+ romancables in early access. A decent 7/10 farm game. I say get it on sale.

Fae Farm - 3D cute fantasy farm game type has. Free demo check it out. Playable with friends more farm focused less romance.

Paleo Pines - 3D farm game with dinosaurs has a free demo check it out. More farm focused from what I can see but hey DINOSAURS.

Roots of Pacha - Pixel art farm game taking place in the stone age. I tried the early access free demo available several months ago and found it very charming.

My Time At… - You may have heard of the My Time at Portia game if your in the farming game circle. They have since made more My Time At… farm games. They are more open world then others but have good reviews.

Coral Island - A recent release well liked by the community. It takes on a more modern art style for its characters but still has fantasy elements like mermaids.

Moonlight Peaks - Vampire farm sim for that mix of spooky and cozy. Its not yet released but it has a demo out now so people can provide early feedback. One to keep your eye on for sure.

Fields of Mistria - indie pixel art 10/10 even in early access charming cute amazing clearly a labor of love for the genre itself with old school Harvest Moon. Do not hesitate just buy it. Trust me.

This list by far does not cover every farm game out there. I could keep going and list more or even start recommending games that branch off the farm sim genre like Potion Permit but if i did wed be here all day. If you like Stardew please give some other games in the farm sim genre a chance. This genre has been around for a long time and I want to see it thrive with new creative games.

I don’t know who needs to hear this, newer farming simulator/ agriculture/ cozy games AREN’T stardew valley knock offs, if anything they’re harvest moon knock offs but atp in the big year of 2025 we should be considering that maybe it’s a genre???

[nanamincreampie]

Omgomgomg hiiiii 🥹🥹🥹🩷🩷🌷🌷🌷🌷 can I request an instance where Sukuna’s pregnant wife visits him at his job and he’s the CEO.

Context:

So like no one in the office knows what his wife looks like. He’s insanely private about his life. (Also cause he’s involved in shady stuff and doesn’t want anyone to know the identity of his wife. He meets with a lot of crooked business men on and off the clock.)

But yea the office only know he’s married because of the ring he wears.

So when his gorgeous, thick and very pregnant wife goes to the reception saying “Hi, is Ryomen busy? I’m his wife. I brought muffins for everyone I ate a couple I hope that’s okay.” in the sweetest voice with the biggest smile, the entire floor is in shock. (They know she’s not lying because of the ginormous light pink rock of a wedding ring that’s on her finger. It’s identical to his hair obvi hehe)

But like yeah! She comes to the office for the first time and all the workers just fall in love with how sweet she is. So they scramble to help her and hold her bag and offer her food from the break room and tell her how pretty she is and maybe Sukuna’s personal assistant even gets pulled away and that’s when he notices that everybody’s nearly gone and he finally finds her surrounded by everyone in the break room and maybe he takes her to his office and his mind is reeling thinking something’s wrong with the baby but it just ended up her being like “I’m sorry I know I could have called but look! The baby’s kicking!” And he falls in love with her all over again.

I think it’d be so cute 😭🩷 he seems like the type of hubby to call his wife “flower” or “petal”. Smut is totally up to you I won’t be opposed to it. But eeee!!! I thought it’d be a cute fluffy little fic

One Sukuna fic with a side of Sunshine and a Pregnant Wife coming right up!!! <3

Sukuna x Black pregnant reader

The bustling office of Sukuna Enterprises was alive with its usual energy phones ringing, keyboards clicking, and hushed conversations about deadlines. Ryomen Sukuna, the enigmatic and ruthlessly efficient CEO, was in the middle of one of his intense back-to-back meetings. His presence cast a long shadow over the entire floor. Everyone knew to tread carefully; Sukuna tolerated no mistakes.

The only personal detail anyone knew about him was that he was married, courtesy of the massive, rose-pink diamond ring he wore on his left hand. But beyond that? Nothing. Sukuna was intensely private, and no one had dared to ask for more. Speculation abounded, but without any concrete details, his wife remained a mystery.

Until today.

The receptionist was the first to spot her: a stunning woman in a flowing maternity dress that hugged her very pregnant belly. Her curls framed her glowing face, and she carried a basket of muffins in one hand and a slightly overstuffed purse in the other.

“Hi there!” she greeted with a bright smile, her voice warm and melodic. “Is Mr. Sukuna in? I’d like to see him, please.”

The receptionist blinked, momentarily thrown off by the casual tone. "Do you have an appointment?" she asked, her professional instincts kicking in.

“Oh, no, no appointment,” the woman replied with a light laugh. “But I’m sure he won’t mind.”

The receptionist hesitated. No one—no one—saw Sukuna without an appointment. “And you are?”

“Oh, just a friend,” the woman said coyly, her warm smile never faltering. “I brought muffins for everyone, too! I… might have eaten a couple on the way. They smelled so good.”

Her charm was effortless, but the receptionist wasn’t entirely convinced. As she considered what to do, a curious junior associate walked past and froze at the sight of the woman. His gaze flicked between her and the receptionist.

“Who’s she?” he whispered, not quite quietly enough.

“I don’t know,” the receptionist whispered back.

Within minutes, whispers began to spread. A stunning, heavily pregnant woman had walked into Sukuna Enterprises asking for their untouchable boss. No one knew who she was, but the expensive jewelry on her hand, especially the light pink diamond, caught more than a few eyes. The resemblance to Sukuna’s wedding ring sparked theories.

Could it be… her?

The whispers grew louder as more employees found excuses to pass by the reception area, stealing glances at the mysterious woman.

Despite the growing attention, she remained perfectly at ease. When someone offered to carry her purse, she laughed softly and accepted, the basket of muffins still in her other hand.

“Oh, thank you so much! It’s a bit heavier than I thought,” she said, her tone dripping with gratitude.

Soon, the break room became her destination. Chairs were pulled out for her, snacks and drinks were offered, and she was surrounded by employees eager to accommodate her. Her gentle laughter filled the space as she chatted with everyone, thanking them for their kindness and answering their curious but polite questions in a way that revealed little.

Meanwhile, in his corner office, Sukuna noticed something strange. The usual buzz of activity on the floor had dwindled to near silence. His crimson eyes narrowed. Something was off.

Stepping out of his office, Sukuna’s gaze swept over the nearly deserted floor. His jaw tightened. “What the hell is going on?” he muttered under his breath, following the faint sound of laughter.

When he reached the break room, the scene before him made his steps falter.

Her.

His wife.

The woman no one in his office had ever seen, the woman he kept carefully hidden from the chaos of his professional life, sat there, glowing with happiness, her round belly resting comfortably as she laughed with his staff.

“What is going on here?” Sukuna’s deep, commanding voice sliced through the air.

The room went silent instantly. Employees scrambled to make space for him, their faces pale as they realized they’d been caught slacking.

Her head turned, and her smile brightened at the sight of him.

“Ryo!” she said warmly, completely unfazed by his intimidating presence. She gestured for him to come closer. “Come here!”

He crossed the room in two long strides, his crimson eyes scanning her from head to toe. “What are you doing here?” he asked, his voice quieter but edged with concern. “Is something wrong?”

Her expression softened as she reached for his hand and placed it on her belly. “Nope! I just missed you. And look the baby’s kicking!”

For a moment, Sukuna’s icy demeanor cracked. His sharp features softened as he felt the gentle thump beneath his palm.

“You could’ve called, Petal,” he murmured, his voice low and filled with something uncharacteristically tender.

“Where’s the fun in that?” she teased, her eyes sparkling.

His lips twitched, almost forming a smile, but then his sharp gaze flicked to the stunned employees still lingering near the door. “Get back to work. Now.”

They scattered like leaves in the wind, murmuring apologies as they fled the room.

Turning back to his wife, Sukuna wrapped a protective arm around her and guided her toward his office. Once inside, he helped her settle onto the plush couch, his eyes never leaving her.

“You’re going to cause chaos every time you visit, Flower,” he said, a rare hint of amusement in his voice.

“Maybe,” she replied with a cheeky grin. “But I brought muffins to make up for it.”

He shook his head, his thumb brushing over her knuckles as he sat beside her. Despite the whirlwind she’d caused, Sukuna found himself staring at her, utterly captivated. She always had a way of turning his world upside down in the best possible way.

And the chaos? Oh, it didn’t end there.

For the rest of the week, the entire office buzzed with stories about her surprise visit. Who could’ve imagined that the stoic, intimidating Ryomen Sukuna was married to such a sweet, cheerful woman? The way she smiled, the way she treated everyone with kindness, the way she looked the staff couldn’t stop talking about her.

Rumors swirled, theories were formed, and every detail was analyzed. But one thing was certain: Mrs. Sukuna had left an impression that no one would forget anytime soon.

Divider by : @bernardsbendystraws

[thesunloveschips]

Obsessed - Part 9 (Azriel x Reader)

Summary: After Azriel's mother reprimands him, he orchestrates another coincidence that leads to a reconciliation.

Warnings: Y/n being a bit naive and delulu. Azriel being the hopeless billionaire still in love because we all deserve a man like this. Azriel saying fluffy and corny things because we deserve men who say such things to us.

Word count: 3.6k

Click here for Obsessed (Masterlist)

****

“You insensitive little shit.” Such a pleasant woman, his mother. “How dare you violate someone’s privacy?”

“Mum, I-”

“And this is how you approached her?” Clearly, Azriel’s mother had no intention of letting him speak.

“I-”

“There are many ways to meet new people, Azriel. The most common one being that you could’ve gone up to her and politely introduced yourself.”

“She would’ve rejected me.”

“She should definitely reject you after the stunt you pulled.” 

“How-”

“The audacity. . .” Needless to say, Azriel received a scolding for the next seventeen minutes. “Leave her alone, Azriel. You’ve hurt her immeasurably. Your devotion does not compensate for that.”

“I want her in my life.”

“Then start by giving her some space. Let her sort out her feelings.”

“She’s hurting.”

“You hurt her, in case you forgot.” Like his mother would ever let him forget. “And don’t creep around in your building’s common areas just to see her.”

“Yes.”

“If I hear anything otherwise, I will stop baking pineapple cake for Christmas.”

For those of you unfamiliar with Azriel, this was the most effective way to threaten him. With his favourite dessert. Or the lack thereof.

“Yes, mum.” But Azriel’s mind had already begun concocting ideas. He was the Chairman of Umbra for fuck’s sake. If he could run a billion-dollar empire, he could definitely get Y/n back.

“If you run a billion dollar empire then I gave birth to you. Mark my words, Azriel. If you loiter around her like an aimless fool, I will burn my recipe book.” 

His mother was a pleasant woman. Her threats did not involve bodily harm. But whether he’d be able to have his mother’s homemade desserts was still debatable. “I’ll call you later. It’s my turn for the appointment.”

“Bye, mum.”

“Maintain your distance.” And she ended the call. 

Azriel supposed Y/n would definitely like his mother as a mother-in-law. His mother would have a daughter to dote on and he could simply watch the two of them chatter while sipping coffee.

Y/n had an internship. At a university in another European country. As a research assistant to a professor. For three months. Then she’d return to her own university in the city where they first met and fell in love. 

Well, he fell in love and she was unaware but not to worry, everything would be fine. 

****

Azriel knew for certain that his events management abilities were applause worthy. Why wouldn’t they be?

Because the way he orchestrated his meeting with Y/n and ended up being her neighbour was something. 

And now, he’d orchestrate a few more events. 

Y/n’s internship had ended. 

It was a good thing for her professor that he was a well mannered, decent human being. Else, Azriel would’ve definitely intervened in a manner that wouldn’t have ended well. 

And now, she was back in the same city. She had just begun the second year of her master’s program. 

Wonderful. 

In three weeks, the reclusive chairman of Umbra would give his first guest lecture in a university. 

Was it a coincidence that this was the same university Y/n attended? Absolutely not.

Because Azriel did not wait around for things to happen. He made things happen. 

That’s how he reached where he was and he was definitely not going to be discouraged.  

She’d begun to shine again during her internship. Friends, both new and old, helped her navigate life. 

He hadn’t contacted her per his mother’s instructions. 

Some days, he’d just randomly opened their chat. He’d see her online and sometimes, he’d type but he never sent a message. And he never received one either. 

Azriel sighed. 

He looked at his choice of clothes for his guest lecture. The topic was his latest collaboration with Rhysand’s Velaris Corp to acquire Hewn Inc. 

He had to look so jaw droppingly handsome that Y/n would fly into his arms and they could run off into the sunset together. 

Black was his colour. 

He knew it.

And Y/n found him hot in black.

So it was decided. Black trousers, sweater, long trench coat. 

That’s how he found himself on the stage of an auditorium, holding a mic, giving a lecture, and answering questions posed by eager and foolish students alike. 

The lecture had ended. Some students and faculties stayed back for follow up questions. Azriel patiently answered all of them when he saw her. 

Y/n. 

And he was hers.

Immediately and undoubtedly hers.

What a sad time it was when he was not hers. A sad time spanning twenty-nine years of his life. 

“Excuse me.” And Azriel made his way towards her. But then he stopped when her gaze found him. 

Fuck. 

Fuck. 

Fuck.

He wasn’t prepared for this. 

He thought he was but he wasn’t.

He hated it.

The sight of her entire body seized by the grief of his betrayal. Her emotions all over her face for him to read that Y/n had most definitely not moved on from him. 

Someone covered her from his line of sight. A face turned back with the glare of a demon. Nesta Archeron.

He sighed. And Nesta seemed offended that her glare had resulted in a sigh. She turned back and took his Y/n away. 

Azriel looked up at the sky as he pulled out his phone. He still didn’t look at the device. 

The evening pinks and violets painted the sky. Clouds were scarce. The moon was readying for its appearance. And Azriel was brooding.

A call came. A different ringtone. The one he’d set for her. 

“How many more lies?” A soft voice whispered. He knew she was referring to him not telling about his designation in Umbra. She’d thought him an ordinary employee. 

“As many as it takes to ensure your safety.” He breathed. 

“Why are you here?”

“Guest lecture.”

“And it happened to be right here?”

“Yeah.” It would happen anywhere she was. Guest lectures, conferences, and whatever the fuck that would give him a chance to see her and breathe the same air as her. 

A pause. The wind whispered something to him and danced with his hair for a while. “You’re beautiful.”

Silence. 

The call continued. And he felt oddly chaotic and calm. 

“Go away, Azriel.” 

“I cannot take impossible requests.” 

“Then take impossible orders and make it possible.” Y/n was firm. “Leave me alone.”

“I cannot.” And he knew his voice was shaky. 

“Why?”

“I need to know you’re safe, comfortable, and happy. It’s all that keeps me sane in your absence.” 

“What if I meet someone else?”

His breath hitched. “Safe, comfortable, and happy, Y/n. That’s where my selfishness for you extends.” 

“And you’re selfless in other areas?”

“You ended our relationship, Y/n, not my feelings. I will be jealous. I will be angry. But I will prioritise your safety, comfort, and happiness.” 

He’d limit it to that. Let her think that his feelings were warm and fuzzy like that favourite blanket of hers and not a mad obsession luring him into an abysmal terrain.

She did not need to know that he’d dismember and torture and slowly kill anybody who thought they had a chance with her. 

Azriel heard a sob. Some core part of him cracked. He looked in the direction where she had disappeared to with Nesta. She was not there.

He wanted to comfort her. 

Hold her and tell her not to cry because he’d make it all better. 

But he was the reason for her tears. 

So he remained silent.

Her cries slowly stopped and he heard footsteps through the phone. “What are you really doing here?” 

“I want to see you.” The footsteps paused. She was probably standing somewhere.

“You saw me.” She immediately threw the words as if they were an accusation.

“Didn’t see you enough.” 

She remained silent. Azriel really couldn’t believe he’d said that. He was a master at controlling his emotions. At least, until Y/n.

“Why didn’t you tell me about Umbra?”

“I wanted to hog you for myself. Not for the man who owns Umbra.” 

“You are that man.”

“I’ve always been Azriel. I did not own Umbra all my life.” The pain of being an illegitimate child suddenly came to the forefront of his mind. 

“And now it’s an inseparable part of you.”

“Not as inseparable as you think.” Because he’d leave it all behind for her. 

“I liked you, Azriel.” Everything paused. The pain in her voice made it all too evident that she still liked him. “I really did but this. . . This is just. .”

“I want another chance, Y/n.” 

“How can you ask such a thing?”

“Another chance with you knowing the full extent of what I will do for you.” 

“And what is this extent?”

“There’s no extent.”

“What?”

“There���s no extent, no line, no limit on what I will do for you.” And even if there was an extent he couldn’t recall right now, he knew Y/n was not unreasonable enough to demand for it. And if she was, then he’d simply comply.

“Does that extent also include violating my privacy? Disrespecting me? As long as you’ve secured my safety and happiness?” 

“There’s no line I won’t-”

“The problem wasn’t the line. The problem wasn’t Umbra. The problem was you hiding it all from me. The problem was you not asking my permission, not considering my feelings, while digging up everything about me like a mole rat.”

Azriel remained stunned. 

How had this slipped past him?

He’d thought he was careful with her feelings. And so, he’d resolved to only tell the good things. Things that wouldn’t be troublesome for her while wanting to know all about her and her problems so that he could eliminate them and make life easier for her. 

But was this a true relationship where he carried the burdens and she carried the joy? 

Weren’t they supposed to carry their lives together no matter the good or the bad?

“You hide things from me but you want to know everything about me so you just get someone to find it all.”

“I’m truly sorry, Y/n. I should’ve told you everything.” And since he hadn’t, he’d lost her. “I was desperate to have every bit of you.” But that desperation hadn’t entitled him to all those bits. “I’m sorry for violating your privacy.” He should’ve waited to know everything that comprised this wonderful woman. “I couldn’t wait. And I’ve now lost you.” 

“What am I even supposed to say?”

“You don’t have any obligation to say anything.” 

“I have no obligation to listen to you.” No, she didn’t. This call was just an act of mercy she granted owing to her own feelings for him that she couldn’t control. 

“Thank you for listening.” 

“I suppose you have more to say.” 

“I do.” He really wanted to say these words at their wedding. 

“Let’s meet.” She sniffled. “I want to know what exactly you know about me.” In the background, he could hear Nesta telling Y/n against it. 

“When are you free?” She gave him a time and venue. And Azriel motioned to the assistant who’d accompanied him that they were leaving. “I’ll meet you there.” 

Silence prevailed. The only sound was his own footsteps.

“Why are you not ending the call?”

“I’ve never ended any of our calls.” Because he’d always wanted to hear her voice. Even if she had anything to say at the last minute. They’d done that many times. 

“Bye.” And he couldn’t help his sad sigh. Azriel walked over to the venue even though there was time. 

****

Y/n was getting the lecture of her life. Nesta was incessantly rambling while she got ready. 

She’d spotted Azriel outside the Department of Business Studies after her classes had ended and she was heading back to her flat shared with her friend. 

“You have to be careful with him. Are you listening to me?” Nesta placed her hands on Y/n’s shoulders. 

“Yeah.” She slumped against her best friend.

“And it does not matter if he’s devilishly handsome or sexy or you had the best sex of your life with him or if you like him or love him or he likes you or loves you or-”

“I’ll be fine.” Nesta really didn’t have to remind her about Azriel’s attractiveness. 

“Really?” Nesta didn’t say it out loud but she knew her well enough. Her friend definitely thought that Y/n would reconcile with Azriel. 

“Yeah.”

Nesta took her in a hug. “Got your pepper spray?” 

“Mhm.”

“So the first thing you do is to spray it. Spray it all over his unnecessarily pretty face.” Y/n remembered the first time she’d talked to Nesta about Azriel and she’d used the words ‘unnecessarily pretty’ to describe him.

“I’m going there to talk.”

“Then spray it on his eyes and ears.”

“All right.” Y/n chuckled. She knew her friend was furious at this man she’d never even met.

It had taken her a while to revive herself. The depth of her feelings for Azriel revealed itself to her only upon his betrayal. 

And she felt like she was heading to war. It probably was, in a sense. 

Y/n reached the park ten minutes before but she loitered around, her nerves wracking and snapping against her, telling her to leave. 

“Y/n.” She’d recognise that voice. She was weak for him like that. 

Y/n turned and saw him dressed for a funeral. In black. 

Any other day and she would’ve thought he looked hot but today when she was a miserable mess with no rein over her feelings, she worried for herself.

Was he going to kill her and chop her body and scatter the pieces in some sewer like he’d done with her heart? 

“Azriel.” Yep. She sounded weak. Affected. 

He took a step forward, the leaves crunching beneath his shoe. Y/n took a step back. 

This conversation was definitely going to be difficult. 

“Would you like me to remain at a distance?” He asked, gently. And she was reminded of the times when this man simply clung to her frame because he didn’t want to let go. In bed, the bath, all around their apartments.  

“Yes.” She breathed. “What do you know about me?”

And he narrated her own story. 

About her pathetic family, her horrifying mother, her counselling sessions from high school, all the people who hurt her, all the people she’d ever befriended. 

He knew everything that had ever been documented about her. 

At the end of his revelation, she simply closed her eyes and sighed. 

“I won’t tell anyone.” He promised solemnly. Was his word worth anything now? Or wasn’t it?

“Am I supposed to trust that?” She dryly asked. And with those words, she’d hurt him. She saw the hurt painted on his face like a dark stain. And fury pumped through her veins.

“You’re not entitled to feel hurt.” How dare he pretend he was the victim here? “Not after this.” She stood up and grabbed her sling bag and phone. Azriel immediately stood up. “I. .” But she really had nothing to say. 

Y/n didn’t know what he was going to do with all that information. But maybe it didn’t matter since he had the resources to do that to anyone. He could keep tabs on her for the rest of her miserable life. 

Even then, no matter how long and hard she thought about it, she didn’t mind. 

She didn’t mind him keeping tabs on her.

She didn’t mind him knowing where she was and what she was doing. She’d told him enough of that herself while they were together and happy.

In a way, she understood it. Maybe she even liked it. 

Y/n was honestly only bothered by him hiding this. By him digging her past out of a box she wasn’t ready to open in front of him. 

Was this devotion? 

Or simply madness?

“I won’t tell you that I wouldn’t do it if we went back in time because I would.” Oh, he was hell bent on making this difficult.

“You could’ve told me.” She whispered. “That you were having me followed.” 

Y/n closed her eyes and inhaled deeply before she continued. 

“And you should’ve waited for me to tell you everything.” All that fucked up part of her, a product of her mother’s parenting skills. “You have the nerve to dig into my past and yet, you kept yours hidden. You’ve kept your life hidden from me and I respected that.” 

Y/n held up a hand when she saw Azriel open his mouth to speak. He had such a beautiful mouth. She wanted him to kiss her. 

“I’m not interested in you knowing everything and that too without my knowledge and permission while I know nearly nothing about you. And before you ask, information on Google does not count.” 

“I’m an illegitimate child.” What? 

Y/n remained shocked as Azriel told her his story. Of how his father and brothers mistreated him and his mother, how he killed them before he took over Umbra.

“Why did you tell me? You had no obligation.” Gods, she really was weak for this man. And for him to be so emotionally vulnerable in front of her made her want to hug him. 

“Because now I realise that a romance is also to be a partnership. It shouldn’t be me knowing everything while you live obliviously. You have as much right to know.” 

Yep, she was doomed. 

Her resolve was faltering. And she was feeling and falling. 

The hot chocolate in front of her that she’d ordered as a formality was cooling down. 

“One chance.” She whispered, praying silently that he wouldn’t break her heart again. “And that will be your last one.” 

****

Azriel knew failure. Many different types of it. He’d known it when he failed his first test. When he lost his first fight. When his applications were rejected. When he had been rejected by friends, girlfriends, his father, his half-brothers, his stepmother. 

So much had been taken from him. And he’d been pushed to the edge of the world before he found the resolve to stand up. It was the sight of his mother cringing in front of his father. 

And then he concocted his wonderful five-year plan. At the end of it, Umbra was his. His mother, safe and comfortable. His father and half-brother, dead. And that wretch of a stepmother, practically exiled. 

And then he’d lost Y/n, truly and completely. 

Azriel wanted Y/n. He’d spent the best few months of his life with her. 

She made him endlessly happy and he tried his best to do the same for her. 

He knew her presence in his life was a privilege. But now it seemed like he’d never taken that privilege seriously and had never respected it in the manner he should have. 

So when she gave him one last chance, he’d been revived. His posture changed, eyes widening. Every movement right then felt as though he was rising from the grave or a coffin and returning to the land of the living. 

Honesty. That would now be an integral part of this relationship. There would be no excuses. And then he remembered something he’d caused. 

Azriel debated telling her but since secrecy had never worked in his favour in this relationship, he made his decision. “So, remember your ex?”

Y/n frowned. “Which one?”

“The one from college.” He was unprecedentedly nervous. 

“Yeah.”

“The one roped into a tax fraud.”

“Yeah?” Y/n blinked and leaned forward. “You did that?”

Azriel nodded quietly. She slumped back into her seat and sighed. “Well, he’s no longer my concern. Do I have to convince you to move on from him?”

“He hasn’t gotten enough.” 

“And he deserves no effort from anybody, the good or the bad. Anything else you want to tell me?” 

“I’ve never had a proper relationship before.” Her eyes widened and she kept looking at him as if she’d never seen him before. Why would she do that? 

“How come?” 

Why was she asking such a question? Wasn’t it obvious why he’d never been in a proper, serious relationship. “Because I’d never met you before.”

Silence prevailed. Y/n looked away in that adorable manner of hers, clearly blushing. And Azriel couldn’t help his smile. “Does that surprise you?”

She glared at him and then stood up. The evening wind was cool and felt pleasant on her face. Y/n looked around, finally noticing the park around her. 

People were in pairs, walking or simply sitting. Couples, most likely. 

And then there was her. With him. On a bench. Sitting at a distance. Azriel really wanted that distance to vanish. So he called her name. 

Y/n looked back at him and he was already looking back at her. “I swear to all the hot chocolate in the world, Azriel. If you ever pull a stunt like this, I’m leaving you.”

He took a step forward. And another. She did not move from her place. “May I?” 

“Yes.” She breathed, eyes closing. Memories sprung forth like a fountain from all the times they'd kissed.

He pressed his lips on her forehead before promising. “I won’t pull a stunt like this. Ever. And if you do leave me, you will be leaving with my heart as you did three months ago.”

“And you’ll give guest lectures to see me even after that?” Y/n leaned into his touch and smiled. The first smile in months. He felt some semblance of peace settle in his heart.

“A Ted Talk, if needed.” Azriel smiled at her faintly. And behind his smile, he really hoped for their future.

****

Taglist:

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[comesatimecomesashadow]

angelito *ೃ༄

pairing *ೃ༄ shadow the hedgehog x mobian reader

fic type *ೃ༄ one-shot / fluff

cw *ೃ༄ shadow being grumpy, shadow & reader sleep in the same bed (no nsfw so no worries !)

summary *ೃ༄ shadow meets his plushie twin.

note *ೃ༄ i thought this was a cute idea TwT

masterlist *ೃ༄

   The moon hung high in the night among the stars. The wind swept through the palm trees and the blades of grass on Green Hill. Shadow had been away helping Sonic and the others defeat Dr. Robotnik (again) and all the poor red and black quilled hedgehog  wanted to do was lie in bed next to you and drop dead. 

   He opened the door to your shared room. When he noticed the open window, he took it upon himself to close it since you huddled under all the blankets. He smiled to himself thinking about that habit of yours. You often liked to have the window open and bury yourself under thick blankets only to regret it later and ask Shadow to close the window for you. 

   Of course he did it, but still. After the window made a clicking sound, Shadow was ready to slip under the covers and hold you for warmth. Unfortunately for him, there seemed to be an intruder, who looked a lot like him, in your arms. Shadow kissed his teeth and swiftly removed his plush double from your arms. You stirred at his actions but his heart swelled when you reached for him in the absence of your plush. 

   The next morning, you awoke to your boyfriend in your arms. It was a lovely sight of course, but this wasn’t how you had fallen asleep. Where exactly did.. Oh. There, at the far corner of your room, you saw your plush (presumably) thrown across the room, on the floor. Collecting dust. 

   You stifled a laugh at the prospect of Shadow throwing it across the room when he had come home. “Shadow,” you held his cheeks in your hand, his eyes weren’t open yet. “Mm.” he mumbled, still not fully awake. “Did you perhaps throw Shadow Jr. across the room?” 

   Hearing your words, he quickly opened his eyes to look at you all puzzled. “Who the hell is that?” 

   You pointed to the depressing plush at the corner of the room, his sight trailing the direction you pointed to. “You woke me up for that?” he sighed heavily and let his head fall on the pillow. He was oddly more grumpy this morning, you noticed. Reluctantly, you began to move to get the plush, but Shadow pulled you back into his arms before you could. “You don’t need that thing when you’ve got the real me.” he said simply, his voice gruff. 

   You rolled your eyes, “He’s softer.” 

   “I’m real.” he deadpanned, his eyes finally opened to look at you. Clearly too tired to deal with your antics. You broke free from his arms and headed towards the plush. Just before you could lay your hands on him, a streak of yellow came, went and came once again — except Shadow Jr. was now missing. 

   You crossed your arms. “Where did you put him?” 

   He mirrored you, “He’s in a better place.” far away from you, is what he wanted to say. 

   You huffed and left the room, feigning upsetness at his actions. Shadow was left in the room, without his double and without his girlfriend.

   He told himself you’d come around, but you were relentless in getting Shadow Jr. back. “Damn, don’t you think you’re taking this a bit far, ____? He looks mad..” Sonic spoke to you, a worried tone in his voice. You only huffed, “He always looks mad.” Sonic agreed and continued munching on the chili dog in his hand. Shadow only glared everyone from afar, why the heck were you talking to Sonic and them but not him? All because of that stupid plush? “Hmph.” 

   Shadow wanted to pretend like he didn’t care, like you’d get over it later, butttt contrary to popular belief, he was not as convincing as he thought he was. So, reluctantly, he asked to speak to you alone — away from Sonic, Amy and the others. 

   You followed him to a cliff and sat next to him there, looking up at the sky. 

   “So what is it that you wanted to tell me?” 

   Shadow grumbled and pulled something out from behind him, shoving it towards you. “I don’t understand why you like that sorry excuse of a lifeform so much.” Your boyfriend was clearly annoyed. You, on the other hand, were happy as a clam. “Shadow Jr.!” you exclaimed as you took him from Shadow and hugged the plush close to you. 

   He glared at his double before looking away, this was another one of your antics, he presumed. 

   And it was. 

   Next thing he knew, you were engulfing him in your arms, holding him close like you had just been doing to his plush twin. “Hmph. What is this for?” 

   “To ease your grumpiness.” you said jokingly as you nuzzled his cheek with your own. “Were you really envious of a small plush version of you?” 

   He turned to look at you, unamused. “The wretched thing was hogging all your attention.” 

   You pulled away a little, “Wretched? That’s a little harsh don’t you think?” 

   “No.” He huffed and allowed himself to ease into your embrace. “It’s fitting, Shadow Jr. is annoying.” 

   “He’s you.” You giggled.

   “I’m me. That thing is just a fake.” He sounded broody, like always. But you only laughed at his words. “Where did you even get it?” 

   “I made it, while you were away.” You let go of him and opted to rest your head against his. “‘Cause I missed you.” 

   “Really?” he sounded unamused, as if he didn’t believe you. 

   “Yes, really. You were gone for a long time. Plus, I thought it was cute.” you shrugged. “But at the end of the day, I guess the real thing is better.” 

   “You guess? Hmph.” he crossed his arms, “Of course I am.” You smiled at his self confidence but said nothing more, allowing yourself the peacefulness that settled between the two of you. 

   You wished it could always be this way.

[hiiikiko]

𝕒𝕔𝕒𝕕𝕖𝕞𝕚𝕔 𝕣𝕚𝕧𝕒𝕝!𝕖𝕝𝕝𝕚𝕖

rival!ellie x reader | tlou m.list

────୨ৎ────

rival!ellie met you on the first day of the winter quarter, she didn’t think much of you but bit back a chuckle at your dorky scarf and beanie

rival!ellie who gradually realizes what a nuisance you’ll be to her spotless academic record.. she’s never actually had to study before but now she’s hitting the books to make sure that you don’t surpass her

rival!ellie who kinda hates your guts.. she can’t stand the way you effortlessly answer the professors questions, especially since you’re the reason she’s been missing out on parties by being in the library so much

rival!ellie who has to admit, she admires your hard work and dedication… even if it makes her lose her mind that you know how to perfectly sketch an HR diagram for a typical global cluster and identify the various observed populations and interpret them on the basis of stellar evolution theory

rival!ellie who grows closer with you… not because she likes you, of course! more so because the professor keeps grouping you together, saying stupid bullshit like “it must be lonely at the top and now you have a friend, ellie!” or “great minds think alike, therefore, you’ll be great friends”

rival!ellie who declines all your offers to hangout

rival!ellie who refuses to acknowledge the shared interests the two of you have… like there’s no way in hell that you’re as big of a Savage Starlight fan as she is, fuckin poser lol

rival!ellie who rants about you to anyone that listens… it’s getting to be a big problem in her circle, so much so that Jesse and Dina are beginning to think that she actually has a crush on you….. hmm

rival!ellie who’s a little more than hurt when you deny over and over that you two have potential as a couple

rival!ellie who decides to take ‘revenge’ out on you by making out with random girls in the hallway, all the while making eye contact with you and smirking when you mouth the words ‘you’re such a pig’ to her

rival!ellie who smirks when she realizes that you’ve heard about how amazing she is in bed, the way you avoid making eye contact with her in the middle of a heated argument is enough to let on that you know

rival!ellie who loves loves loves seeing you sad about the fact that she exceeds you in every subject that is until…

rival!ellie who’s wold comes crashing down around her when you get one point above her on a test.. she literally crashes out like think bella in new moon type crashing out.. she finally picks herself back up, trudges to the library to hit the books and get back into it.. she will not be second to you again.

rival!ellie who kinda becomes a stalker… she can’t help it, she needs to know how you got that one point above her score! like, it’s never been heard of in Blackwell…. she must know

rival!ellie who when you finally confront her about her stalking, scoffs and shakes her head n says “you wish, dumbass” you roll your eyes and invite her to study with you, since she’s so curious… which she takes up.. not because she wants to spend time with you! it’s just keep your enemies close, right??

rival!ellie who can hardly focus on your study date hangout (??), like you’re so close… how can someone be this smart and pretty, i mean annoying.. you also smell really good… what is that? vanilla?

rival!ellie who makes these study ‘hangouts’ a regular thing… whether you know it or not, she hangs around the table where you study and acts like it’s a coincidence and says ‘i was here first, stupid’

rival!ellie who tucks a strand of hair behind you on one of these ‘hangouts’ and when you look up at her with those pretty doe eyes she smacks the side of your head and mutters something about a fly being on you and that you should probably take a shower or something

rival!ellie who kinda starts to grow fond of you… you’re the only person who actually gets her witty astrophysics puns and jokes, it feels nice not having to explain herself all the time

rival!ellie who’s jaw drops like a 42lb block of tungsten when she finds out that you of all people have a girlfriend… like come on! who would date you?! you’re stupid, annoying… okay, so you’re also kinda smart, pretty, hot… ahem! not that she’s noticed!

rival!ellie who then trash talks your girlfriend to her friends: ‘she obviously had shit taste in girls like come on, that nerd is the best she could do? ha!”

rival!ellie who overhears your girlfriend talking rather grossly about you in the locker room and shoves her into the locker but it’s not like she’s defending your honour or whatever. she’s a feminist! talking that way about any woman makes her blood boil!

rival!ellie who grumbles when you lecture her about how she’s taken your little rivalry too far by giving your now ex girlfriend a bloody nose… as you press a bag of peas against ellie’s black eye

rival!ellie who now likes frozen peas

rival!ellie who kinda likes the way you take care of her after the fight, smiling slightly and wearing her blackened eye like a badge of honour, like she’s your white knight.. or whatever, she doesn’t care

rival!ellie who scares off any guy/girl that looks at you because she feels weirdly possessive of you, like… you’re her rival, not theirs!

rival!ellie who FINALLY accepts her crush on you after countless lectures from Dina and Jesse…

rival!ellie who trash talks any romantic interest of yours “oh come on, they’re not even that hot… i’m way hotter than them, right Dina?” “whaaaat the totally flunked last semesters exam, pfft”

rival!ellie who’s still very, very competitive with you but now finds it kinda cute and sexy when you gloat about how you bested her in another quiz

rival!ellie who begins to make advances on you… starting off with a simple bet like loser buys the other a soda then working up to loser does whatever the other wants and you being the overly confident academic that you are agree

rival!ellie who pours herself into studying, even putting down her comics in preparation for the next quiz… she’d rather be damned than lose to you, she needs to win this

rival!ellie who wins! but that means… you have to do whatever she wants….

“i want a kiss,” ellie sneers, her finger under your chin

“excuse me?”

“you heard me” she leans back against the desk, “i want a kiss”

you cross your arms, what the hell was she thinking? is she high? has she gone mad? i mean, you often hear about geniuses going mad— but before you can finish that thought, ellie is pulling you in for a kiss, in the middle of the classroom… it’s sweet and her kiss is almost hungry, like she’s been waiting for this

she finally pulls away and with a chuckle says “huh, guess you come in second for kissing too”

what an asshole but you’re not one too pass up a challenge…. so… you invite her back to your dorm room

[keisgirl]

ily but…; tsukishima kei

pairing; highschool!tsukishima kei x reader

wc; 0.5k

guys should i make a masterlist again

you see, tsukishima kei isn’t the type of boyfriend you would want. he loves you, but then he doesn’t really pick up cues.

it’s not that he’s oblivious. tsukishima notices everything. he’s sharp, observant, painfully so. but emotional nuances? they slip past him like water through a sieve. he doesn’t mean to hurt you. in fact, it’s the opposite: every sarcastic jab, every carefully worded critique, comes from a place of love. he just doesn’t know how to be soft about it.

you’re sitting on the floor of his room, textbooks scattered between you. tsukishima’s knees are tucked to his chest, one arm resting casually on top. he’s explaining a math problem, his tone steady, almost clinical. you don’t even remember asking for help with this one. maybe you didn’t.

"if you just carry this over here, it’s obvious," he says, pointing at your notebook. his brows furrow slightly, his lips pressing into a line. "how did you not see that?"

your throat tightens. it’s not the words, really. it’s the way he says them, so matter-of-fact, so distant. you press your pencil harder against the page, the graphite smudging under your hand.

"maybe i’m just stupid," you mumble.

his head snaps up at that. "don’t say that."

"why not? you’re the one always pointing it out."

he leans back against his bed frame, exhaling sharply through his nose. "i’m not-" he pauses, pushing his glasses up the bridge of his nose. "i’m not saying you’re stupid. i’m just saying you’re not trying hard enough."

you laugh, but it’s humorless, bitter. "right. because that’s exactly what i need to hear right now."

his eyes narrow, his jaw tightening. "i’m trying to help you."

"and i didn’t ask for it!" the words come out louder than you intended, echoing in the small room. tsukishima flinches, just barely, but it’s enough to make you feel a pang of guilt.

you drop your pencil, letting it roll across the floor. "sometimes i just… i just want a hug from you, kei," you say softly, staring at the notebook in front of you. "thank you for tutoring me when i say i’m not good enough, but maybe all i want is comfort. not another teacher."

the silence that follows is heavy, suffocating. you can feel his gaze on you, but you don’t look up.

"i…" he starts, but his voice falters. tsukishima kei, the boy who always has something to say, is at a loss for words.

when you finally glance up, he’s looking away, his hand gripping the edge of his bed. his lips part as if he’s about to speak, but he doesn’t. instead, he shifts slightly, leaning forward until his fingers brush yours. it’s tentative, hesitant—like he’s afraid of getting it wrong.

"i’m not good at this," he admits quietly. his voice is softer now, the edges of his usual sarcasm smoothed out. "i don’t… know how to be what you need."

your chest tightens, a lump forming in your throat. "just try, kei," you whisper. "that’s all i want."

he exhales, his hand finally closing over yours. his grip is awkward, a little too firm, but it’s something. it’s enough.

"okay," he says. "i’ll try."

and for the first time, you feel like he really means it.

[ylangelegy]

like real people do ☢️ seungcheol x reader.

little is known about the apocalypse of 2017. a century later, archivists are now unveiling the relics they found from those who lived through that time.

★ seungcheol x reader.  ★ word count: 2.1k ★ genre: alternate universe: apocalypse, alternate universe: soulmates (the only way for your scars to disappear is when your soulmate kisses them goodbye), angst, romance. ★ warnings: major character death. depictions of death/violence, injuries/scars. established relationship; suggestive scenes but no real smut. set in a fictional apocalyptic world. doubling down on the angst warning; i cannot say with any certainty that this is a happy ending. ★ footnotes: this is part of my follower milestone event. viv gave me an inch (a request for angsty seungcheol) and, in turn, i am giving her a mile (a whole thing instead of just a ficlet). mahal kita, @heartepub! this will be the last hozier brainrot i offer you— for now. + much thanks to @gyubakeries and @tusswrites for beta reading! love you both to the end of the world. ❤️‍🩹

↻ ◁ || ▷ ↺ like real people do by hozier. apocalypse by cigarettes after sex. i know the end by phoebe bridgers. fourth of july by sufjan stevens. interlude: i’m not angry anymore by paramore. atlantis by seafret. end of beginning by djo. nobody’s soldier by hozier.

When the fish started dying, you did not think: This is how the world will end.

Why would you? The decimation of marine mammals and seabirds didn’t make the news. The misguided scientific breakthrough that triggered everything was kept under wraps.

It isn’t until much later, until the damage is irreparable and the Rapture is imminent, that you will realize it. 

The world as you know it is ending— but at least you have Seungcheol.

There’s some cruelty in the timing of it all. The two of you had just moved in with each other, coasting on the honeymoon phase of a long-term couple with a new thing to share. The paint on your apartment’s walls had yet to dry when the government declared a state of national emergency.

Dozens of other countries followed suit not long after, all blaming one thing or the other. Food crises. Social unrest. Cultural collapse. 

“This is crazy,” Seungcheol grumbles. 

The television is playing clips of a hurricane tearing through the Philippines. Extreme weather conditions, the reporters are saying. Due to the rise of CO₂ levels. 

You and Seungcheol are sprawled out on the floor, watching it unfold. The furniture store meant to deliver your couch has delayed shipment until further notice. 

Seungcheol has always been the sulky type, though the expression on his face nowadays has been less of his trademark pout and more of a serious frown. You can feel his growing agitation in the stiff way he holds you, in the set of his eyebrows. 

“It’s crazy,” you agree quietly, resting your hand on his knee in a bid to calm him a bit. “But it’ll pass.” 

Your touch seems to give some sort of reprieve. He rolls his shoulders. He unclenches his jaw. 

“It’ll pass,” he echoes, reaching out to intertwine your fingers. 

Neither of you knew just how wrong you could be. 

April 8, 2017 

Weird times. Cheol knows just how anxious I get when I’m cooped up, so he encouraged me to pick up journaling. I’m not sure how much this will help, but it’s worth a try. 

It’s been a month since everything has essentially gone on ‘lockdown’. The news says that all of this started because researchers wanted to regulate harmful algae. Their genetically engineered virus ended up infecting all algae, and now the majority of phytoplankton are just... dead. 

I don’t know what to write about. Terrible oxygen levels? Seafood costing a fortune? This ‘work from home’ system everyone is trying to figure out? 

I guess I should just write about the good stuff. That way, when I look back on these entries, I can remember something good.

Today, Cheol tried to fix a leaking faucet himself instead of calling for a plumber. We flooded the kitchen floor, and ended up wet from head to toe.

I cooked pasta, called mom and dad on Skype, and watched the latest episode of Santa Clarita Diet. 

Once everything opens up again, Cheol and I have to visit my parents. (And ‘get better screwdrivers’, he claims.) 

When Seungcheol first kissed you, you did not think: This man is my soulmate. 

It had been a clumsy, shy thing, traded way back when the two of you were high schoolers still stealing away from your eagle-eyed parents. Seungcheol liked to wax poetics about how it was perfect even though you know that first kiss was more a clash of teeth than anything. 

You don’t discover the truth of everything until a couple of years into dating. Seungcheol had gotten into playing basketball, and, one evening, you absentmindedly pressed your lips to a scar he had at the bend of his elbow. 

The mark smoothed out instantly. 

Seungcheol had giggled at the development before spending the rest of the night kissing every inch of your skin that he could reach— injured or not. You still think it’s one of your best memories as a couple. 

Kisses that healed scars. You hadn’t believed in the stories yourself until it had happened to you, until you realized how fortunate you were that your soulmate wasn’t halfway across the world or something. No, you had your soulmate, and he was more than willing to kiss away all your wounds. 

You had counted yourself as lucky. You still think you are, even now, as Seungcheol strokes your hair and holds you to his chest in the pitch black darkness of your apartment. 

His voice is quiet and small when he speaks up. “I’m sorry.” 

“What for?” you mutter back. 

“I’m sure this isn’t what you imagined,” he says. “For us moving in together and everything.” 

An amused snort escapes you. Of course that would be your boyfriend’s concern. There’s the rotational power outages and the merciless prices of goods due to inflation, but Seungcheol is worried about your expectations not being met. 

You shift in his hold. The days have been getting warmer and warmer, and the evenings are no exception. Seungcheol has taken to sleeping shirtless. You’re a couple of celsius away from doing the same. 

“It’s not your fault that we decided to move in together for the end times,” you say into the skin of his bare chest. 

He gives the small of your back a light thwack. “What have I said about the apocalypse jokes?” he chides lightly. 

You roll your eyes. He shouldn’t see it in the darkness, but he knows you all too well. “And don’t roll your eyes at me!”

His reprimand draws a short laugh from you. Even that feels like a monumental effort, like it's a waste of good air. 

Seungcheol doesn’t care. He doesn’t care about the two of you waking up in pools of your own sweat, doesn’t care that there are whole government newscasts on how to preserve oxygen in enclosed spaces. 

He holds you like a lifeline and kisses you until you’re breathless. 

“Cheol,” you whine against his mouth, the protest already at the tip of your tongue. The end is near; sex should be the last thing on your mind. 

But then Seungcheol’s fingers toy with the hem of your shirt, and he sounds so, so sweet when he mumbles, “Yes, soulmate?” 

That’s always gotten to you. 

“Unfair,” you groan as you work on shucking off your own clothes. “You’re so unfair.” 

In between giggles, he kisses every part of you. Again, and again, and again. 

June 15, 2017 

Cheol and I are on the run. 

He keeps telling me not to call it that because it supposedly makes us sound like criminals. I think it’s just funny, and God knows I need something to find humor in. 

As badly as I want to say “we have gone through worse before,” that would be a lie. We’re out of our apartment and trying to make our way to some place where there’s better air quality. In the meantime, we’re living out of his car. It’s so funny to me that I’ve started laughing until I’m crying. 

Anyway, the good stuff: Today’s sunset painted the sky purple. We snagged some still-cold cans of Sprite in an abandoned 7-Eleven. Cheol spotted a family of ducks crossing the road, pointed it out, and said “us, soon!”

Us, soon. It feels dangerous to hope, but that’s all I seem to do nowadays. That and being on the run. (Cheol made me strike out that last part, but whatever.) 

When Seungcheol finally admits to you that he is scared, you did not think: This means that things are much, much worse than I thought. 

Maybe because there were bigger concerns, like the car’s blinking fuel warning light and the scratches littering Seungcheol’s arms. Like the fool that he was, he had gone against your well-meaning advice to not look for help. 

He did not return unscathed. 

Your lips are pursed in a thin line as you rip open a Band-Aid. It’s one of the few that the two of you have left, and Seungcheol seems to remember the fact. He reaches out to stop you. 

“Hey, c’mon,” he urges, obviously trying to aim for levity. “You know there’s other ways we can fix me up, right?”

The frown that tugs at your lips shows that you’re still less-than-pleased at his little stunt. 

“Maybe if you didn’t head out in the first place,” you grumble. “We wouldn’t need any of this.” 

Seungcheol looks like he might push back, but seems to decide against it at the last minute. Instead, he wraps his fingers around your wrist and gives you a gentle tug. 

“It won’t happen again.” His tone is edged with remorse, enough to almost convince you. Almost. 

“No more playing hero?” you ask. 

A corner of his lip twitches upward. “No more playing hero,” he concedes before tugging at you again. 

You let him. You move closer into his space until you’re practically in his lap, until you’ve got a better view of the angry red cuts on his skin. 

Tentatively, you press chaste kisses to the injuries. Seungcheol’s hands find purchase at your waist and he tilts his head back, letting you work your magic. He’s quiet as your lips trace over each gash and wound, as you take away all the hurt with the ghost of a kiss. 

After a moment, he mumbles, “Is it bad that I want you right now?” 

“Seungcheol.” 

“Okay, okay.” A beat. “I want you all the time, actually.” 

“Shut up!”

The sound of his laughter fills the car. It’s enough to have you forgetting his murmured confession of fear, the vulnerability that he had tried so quickly to cover up with affection. For a moment, there is nothing else in the world except this, except you, except him. 

September 23, 2017

Is it weird to say that I’m starting to forget what it was like before all of this happened? Cheol is trying to assure me that it’s to be expected, that we’ll all be back to ‘normal’ soon, but I don’t even remember what normal is like anymore. 

I can’t forget. I don’t want to forget. And so here is a small list of things I took for granted: 

The first breeze that tells you winter is coming 

The kindness of people who don’t know you 

The smallest fish in the sea

Date nights with Cheol 

Clean water 

Breakfast

My parents

Cheol says there might be some biodomes ahead. Oxygen-regulated habitats. It sounds like something only the rich can afford. We don’t have a lot left between the two of us, and it’s getting harder to jump from building to building. 

But there’s something waiting for us on the other side— right? There has to be. 

May the best of my todays be the worst of my tomorrows. 

When the gunshot rang out, you did not think: This is it.

Seungcheol never gave you any reason to think that way. He had held your hand as you raided rundown grocery stores. He had positioned himself in front of you when there were stampedes. The world might have been ending, but he was with you.

He was with you even when the strangers you ran into started getting more aggressive. He was with you even when fights would break out over necessities like water and medicine. 

“People are dangerous when they're desperate,” he’d tell you softly— still his rational, kind self even when faced with the worst of mankind.

He was with you. He was kind. He was yours. 

Even when the bullet lodged itself right between his ribs. 

There is not much that you remember after that. 

The people dispersed. The cause of the fight— a can of chicken noodle soup, once your comfort food— lay forgotten on the floor.

The love of your life, staring unblinking at the sky.

When you sink to the ground, you’re moving purely on instinct. Your quivering lips press over his chest, over the red blossoming and staining his shirt. 

You kiss him. Again.

And again. 

And again. 

December 1, 2017

The kisses don’t work on bullet wounds. 

▸ Archivist’s note: The following entries are undated and some portions had been redacted/deemed untranscribable. We are led to believe that the author struggled to cope in the aftermath of their soulmate’s death. For posterity, we have still reprinted their final entries.

You’re so unfair. 

I still want you. 

Things I took for granted: ███████, you, ███████, youyouyou. 

What now? 

My love, it’s only a matter of ███████—

▸ Archivist’s note: Nothing follows.

This concludes our transcribed logs. The full collection can be viewed at the National Museum of Remembrance.

It is our deepest regret that the author is unnamed and that they cannot be properly credited. However, we know of two things with certainty. 

We know of a man named Seungcheol, and we know that he was loved. 

[mirainwonderland]

Leon Kennedy One Shot

Content: fluff, established relationship, allusion to mature themes (bondage?)but fades to black so no real NSFW wanted to keep it pg

Pairing: Leon X reader

Synopsis: You get bored and tie a ribbon around his bicep

A/N: I wrote the first bit of this when I was half asleep lol idk I thought it turned out bad but I reread, edited, and finished it and now I’m happy with it so enjoyyy ^_^ I think the concept is cute and I wanted to write it outside of a smutty context (even though technically it ends up there but whatever) have fun x

⊹₊ ˚‧︵‿₊୨୧₊‿︵‧ ˚ ₊⊹

“There!” You announce, sitting cross-legged on the couch while Leon works on his computer beside you. He’d been at it for hours, and you were admittedly a little bored. He kept saying “Almost done babe”, but that felt like hours ago now. So with nothing better to do, you decide to amuse yourself by getting some of your pink ribbon and tying the most perfect bow you could around his bicep while he typed away on some boring report. Leon had asked you what the hell you were doing, but you shrugged, and he just let you, most of his focus on work he needs to finish.

It had taken you way too many tries to get it this perfect, and you grin at your accomplishment as the tips of your fingers tickle the bunny ears of the satin bow. It’s something you’ve secretly always wanted to try. You loved his arms and seeing the delicate fabric of the ribbon tied around his muscles like some spiffy package that was all yours was tantalizing. It was satisfying to see his calloused muscles adorned with a signature of something that was so distinctly you, that you can’t help but feel a little spark of warmth and pride as a smile lights up your face.

He spares a glance over his shoulder at your little piece of art, a ghost of a smile not quite manifesting on his face in its entirety.

“Pretty.” He humors you, clicking his mousepad a couple of times in half-baked attention. You crinkle your nose, huffing a puff of air through it. Even if he’s mostly focused on work, he can’t help himself when it comes to giving you a little bit of a (lovingly) hard time. And he’d be lying if he told himself didn’t think your little pink ribbon was cute.

“Hey!” You protest as his bicep suddenly flexes, the ribbon popping at its tension point and fluttering onto the cushion of the couch.

“Stoppp…!” You draw out the word in a light-heartedly annoyed whine, picking the tatters of your little art piece off the couch.

You grab a new strand of ribbon, tying it around his bicep once again in three or four tries, biting your lip in concentration. Leon dulls an affectionate smirk as he watches you out of the corner of his eye, his attention shifting over more to your little antics. You lean back, blowing a strand of hair from your face.

He has to do it again.

“No don’t— no!” You scold, grabbing onto his arm when he begins to flex his bicep again. Your hands don’t fit all the way around of course, put you still push your palms towards each other into the muscle on either side, trying to force him to relax and not mess up your little masterpiece.

He chuckles, the sound vibrating in his chest and sending warm tingles down your back at the domesticity of it as he relaxes the muscle. It’s not often you see him this relaxed, and it feels really nice whenever you catch a glimpse of this side of him.

His computer is discarded, and in a flash he grabs your hands, pinning your wrists together as he reaches for your vulnerable sides. You erupt into an uncontrollable fit of laughter as he tickles you, his bicep flexing and relaxing under the ribbon still tied to his arm.

“Let’s see how you like it. C’mere.” He grabs a strand of ribbon himself, winding it around your wrists and tying them off so you’re stuck. You squeal as he throws your arms a loop around his neck, and nuzzles your nose and face, making you writhe and giggle beneath him ticklishly as his hands ruthlessly attack your sides.

Your elbows dig into his shoulders as you laugh, writhing wildly under him. Curse your ticklish spots and sensitive nerve endings, and screw him for knowing where they are.

“Stop! Sto-“ You’re cut off as his fingers flatten against your ribs and his lips abruptly press against yours in a breathless flare of a kiss.

Traces of breathless laughter spill from your mouth when he releases them, as your chest heaves up and down against his for air.

“I’m stuck!” Your wrists writhe against the bindings of silk, eliciting no reaction of sympathy from Leon like you intended. “Leon-“

“Nah, I like you like this.” Refusing to help you, he peck your lips again, pressing doting little kisses all over your cheeks and nose. You erupts into soft giggled again, making warmth flood through his chest and invigorate his tired muscles.

He pulls back again to look down at your rosy face.

“Untie me.”

His gaze flickers to the ceiling as if in thought momentarily before returning to you. His voice rumbles deep in his chest, vibrating into yours. “Mm… No.”

“Leon!” You whine, making him chuckle again and drop his lips to yours once more. He snatches you up in his arms so suddenly you squeal, fingers digging into the back of his shirt as he bounces you once in his arms for a better grip.

“I’ve got a pretty little package,” He says walking with you to your bedroom, nuzzling your face affectionately, making you show him that adorable smile he loves. “And I’m gonna open it.”

And open it he does.

All night long.

[charmed-asylum]

The award for god damn my mouth drop like a cartoon cat goes to SY but u know . I know he doesn’t beat around the bush. However, was I thinking he be like this . And shit I can say from experience and studies that a lot he doing goes right with it. I mean sad thing and it’s really not just one person to pin point who could of fix this besides Thor town folks and trailer trash mom ( now idk where she grew up but hey it’s not me but cliches) that could of help. It’s sad because for her case she probably isn’t a slut while Sy is crazy he just type that knows it but tries to be all wooo man I mean I’m not crazy I’m caring but if u ever mess with me then haha u be getting a dead cat in your mail box or a stalker for life but wooooooo I’m just caring and being a human . Shit pat on the back and you good is looking out a simple box of stuff is looking out non stop poof Sy there is not helping out it’s stalking but bc this town is so small folks won’t see it. Oh he lucky that town size of a city block.

“On pay day, you go down to cash your check then give most of it right back, parsing it out for your various expenses. At the end of it, you have even less than the month before. You don't get it. Thing's only seem to get worse; not just money, but your body” honey this statement so spot on huh one a check back in the day like your time period AU money u get paid can last a month or last time now it’s like a blink poof gone and your body lord I’m only in my 20s and the issues I’m having at my age blown minds.

Sy just always there and idk why but it’s big ( lord I’m drooling and have not finish this thought) well as a whole get always with the sneak attack shit I’m barley 5 foot and I still have issues . Bc I’m too short they turn around and still don’t see me I gotta jump be like Boo. Anyway still damn “. For a big man, he sure can sneak up on you. “ also going back to my girl you got yourself a lifetime 20/20 level stalker. Hahaha way you keep doing Thor I can’t “ It isn't his fault he reminds you of that spoiled deadbeat. “ I wonder still wonder because he hasn’t been front with her which I feel it coming feel it coming . ( still gonna be shock) but on the why he gave her a reason which I’m gonna point out in a second but can “ I don't like to carry 'round debts. Let me buy you one." be one I mean it be least crazy one . And if not does he pray on pregnant women because of well a lot tumblr taught me a lot about kinks but because how easy the target she or how her emotions not there or pregnancy brain. “ You really don't get this man. You're no longer so sure that Thor sent him to check up on you, not since your last interaction. In fact, the wingman seemed more spiteful of him than you” also that he was so close to Thor which questioned his character like so he mad bc what Thor did or he use Thor for some reason. Because in small time I can’t see some friends falling out so easy bc hello who else u got .

This again makes me feel bad for her because while Sy seems nice and it your name was the fluff you don’t ask for I be all aww so cute and romantic but no nothing ever good and sweet it’s an huh my leg said in a sponge bob character voice. Like never so simple and sweet but damn how bad I felt reading this “ You glance over and find Sy watching you as he stands in the queue. His gaze makes you want to wilt.. Not even Thor looked at you like that. Don't be silly. Sy is just being a dutiful guy, helping out the town slut in her time of need. You won't be duped. Not when you can hear your name being twisted on tongues at that very moment” and fact he open ( after 1st day seeing her) mention he read books about pregnancy. It makes her wall slowly start to crack. “ He suggested before he's been reading things about pregnancy. You just can't picture him with a copy of What To Expect When You're Expecting.”

HAAH I’m sure many mention this but lord can you imagine “ He returns with a black coffee and a rather colourful donut. They don't match. Bitter and sweet all at once. “ But no the way that he watches her even down to her fingers. Or what way her EYES 👀 may go. He’s watching her as if I only watching tho his pray but as if he I don’t know still in war zone, looking through his sniper or goggles, watching his enemy. But still huh I hate it the perfect crazy stalker but idk even talking to her not at her or down to her .

AND HE SO HONESTLY BLUNT like okay he playing a game of 1s and 00s and we doing tic tac toe. Still like , “ "Yes, I'd like to take care of you. And the little one, if you'll let me….. His eyes flick up to the ceiling and his cheek ticks as he gives the question genuine thought. When he looks at you again, his face is set, "because I want to." that to me feels ( because not 1st time) he thinking on how to say it like before with the honest but down play it. In away which is why I feel there more.

Called to Duty 4

Warnings: non/dubcon, pregnancy, abandonment, and other dark elements. My username actually says you never asked for any of this.

My warnings are not exhaustive but be aware this is a dark fic and may include potentially triggering topics. Please use your common sense when consuming content. I am not responsible for your decisions.

Characters: Captain Syverson

Summary: You struggle to move on from the biggest mistake of your life but find it hard to forget among the whispers of a small town.

Part of the Backwoods AU

As usual, I would appreciate any and all feedback. I’m happy to once more go on this adventure with all of you! Thank you in advance for your comments and for reblogging.

The bank is as ever anxiety inducing. On pay day, you go down to cash your check then give most of it right back, parsing it out for your various expenses. At the end of it, you have even less than the month before. You don't get it. Thing's only seem to get worse; not just money, but your body. Every day you wake up, you feel even more crummy than the last. 

Your hopes of a treat at the cafe are dashed. You give a longing look as you walk by and peer through the window. You can smell cinnamon and coffee. You're strict non-caffeinated, doctor's orders, but a decaf would be amazing with one of those cinnamon buns. Ugh, damn, why are you torturing yourself? 

You turn to continue down the street but barely dodge out of the way of another pedestrian. He makes sure you can't pass as he mirrors you, sidestepping to block your way. You sigh as you step back and look Sy in the face. For a big man, he sure can sneak up on you. 

"Hey," he flips up his dark sunglasses, "how're you feeling?" 

You stare up at him defiantly, not quite bold enough to glare. He hasn't done anything wrong, he's just persistent. It isn't his fault he reminds you of that spoiled deadbeat. Or that your emotions are volatile, one moment teary eyed, the next blazing hot with rage. 

"Fine, thanks for asking," you shrug, "Sy, I gotta--" 

"I owe you a cookie," he points to the cafe window at his shoulder. 

You blink. You remember the cracked shortbread. You forgot about that. The mention of the sugary treat makes your stomach growl and your mouth water. 

"No, you don't--" 

"I do," he insists, "I don't like to carry 'round debts. Let me buy you one." 

"I got it free," you say, "it's not a big deal." 

"It is to me," he counters, "I was heading in anyway." 

You stare at him. You really don't get this man. You're no longer so sure that Thor sent him to check up on you, not since your last interaction. In fact, the wingman seemed more spiteful of him than you. You look across the steeet to the pharmacy then back at him. The aromas wafting out with each swing of the door have you ravenous.  

"I can't stay long, I gotta work," you say. 

His cheeks twitch, as if he tamps back a smile before it can bloom, "after you." 

He gesture behind you to the door. You turn and lead the way. He reaches past you to open the door before you can and you enter ahead of him. The din within is lively and the air is warm from the crowd and the employees steaming out orders behind the counter. 

"Wanna find a seat?" He suggests, "you should rest." 

You open your mouth to argue but think better of it. You'd rather not stand in the clustered line. You nod and head off to claim the table by the window. There isn't much left. 

You pull out the chair and brace your back as you sit with a sigh. You glance over and find Sy watching you as he stands in the queue. His gaze makes you want to wilt, instead you turn your attention out the window. 

Not even Thor looked at you like that. Don't be silly. Sy is just being a dutiful guy, helping out the town slut in her time of need. You won't be duped. Not when you can hear your name being twisted on tongues at that very moment. 

You sit and wait, wring the strap of your small purse. You watch the street. If it wasn't for the people, Hammer Ford would be serene. 

A plate clinks in front of you and a porcelain mug as well. It isn't a cookie and you can smell the herbal tea's rosy flavour. You peer up at Sy as he gives an apologetic look. 

"Cookies are still baking so I got you a cinnamon bun," he says. 

"And tea?" You add. 

"Can't have one without the other," he says, "no coffee for you." 

"Yeah, I... I know." 

You could laugh. He suggested before he's been reading things about pregnancy. You just can't picture him with a copy of What To Expect When You're Expecting.  

"Thank you," you smile as best you can. 

"Gotta get mine, be back," he excuses himself and marches back to the counter. 

You look down at the gooey iced draped spiral. You really shouldn't. Not only accept his misspent generosity but indulge in the excess sugar. Yet your hormones won't let you resist. You can at least wait until he's sitting down. 

He returns with a black coffee and a rather colourful donut. They don't match. Bitter and sweet all at once. He sits and takes off his hat and sunglasses. 

You put your purse to the edge of the table and rest your hand on your stomach, doing your best to resist the animalistic need to tear apart the dessert. His eyes follow the movement and you quickly drop your arm. You don't even think when you do it, it's just a habit. 

"You-" he begins. 

"Wh--" you find your voice at the same time. 

You both stop, hesitant. He nods and gestures to you, lifting his cup as he watches you intently. That's new too. Thor never listened much, only talked a lot. Besides, you weren't exactly together for the conversation. 

"Sy," you clear your throat and sit forward as much as you can, "why are you following me around?" 

His brows form a vee, "I'm... it's not... I'm tryna help." 

"Okay, but why?" 

His eyes flick up to the ceiling and his cheek ticks as he gives the question genuine thought. When he looks at you again, his face is set, "because I want to." 

"You want to?" 

"Yes, I'd like to take care of you. And the little one, if you'll let me." 

You can't help your snort, "we hardly know each other." 

"Isn't for lack of trying," he taps his fingers on his mug. "Aren't ya gonna try the bun?" 

"I will," you assure him. He's trying to distract you and it's close to working. The cinnamon is driving you mad. "A baby is a lot of work and... I'm not your responsibility. I know Thor is your friend." 

"Was," he interjects.  

"Sure," you accept his decisive declaration, "but that doesn't mean you have to worry about his mistakes." 

"Mistakes? I don't think so," he says. 

"Well, it's not exactly planned," you scoff, "Sy, really I don't feel right about you doing so much." 

"Wouldn't feel right not doing it," he shrugs his burly shoulders. 

“But why?” You nearly exclaim. You just want to know why he cares so much, about you? 

He leans forward, elbows on the table, “they talk about me too, ya know? Since I got back from... serving. They say I’m f—crazy, or whatever. It wasn’t easy or nothin’ over there but I’m not nuts. Not like they say. Just like you’re not some slut, forgive me for saying it out loud.” 

You look down at the table and exhale. So he hears as much as anyone else about you. At least he’s honest. At least he isn’t joining them. You purse your lips and reach for the cinnamon bun, unable to restrain yourself any longer. 

“For what it’s worth,” you raise your eyes to meet his, “I never thought you were... unwell, or whatever they say.” 

His cheeks pinch, another suppressed smile, and he tilts his head, “I’m only happy to hear you think of me.”