#to finish this essay first and then I will write him something

[thearcanecat]

Blorbo from my shows? No. Blorbo from my college readings.

[figofswords]

anybody remember the stephanie brown essay I was working on under a research grant fully last summer? yeah it’s not done yet it super needs to be done and I’ve been avoiding working on it for weeks. someone tell me to just do it already

[rhysazriel]

Hidden Videos [College!Azriel]

SUMMARY: Y/N's a camgirl and Azriel's roommate, Azriel borrows her computer for his college essay and finds something he never expected to see. (3.3k)

WARNINGS: teasing, swearing, dirty talk, masturbation (Azriel watching Y/N's videos)

A/N: this is another old fic from an old fandom I used to write for... but there's just something about college Az getting off over his roommate hehe

"Fuck!"

She hears his curse before a slam of something hard is followed and rough footsteps carry him into the kitchen. Azriel's got his fingers tugging on his growing hair, face red in aggravation and she stops mid-chew on her slice of toast, eyeing him with raised brows.

He lets out another gruff sigh and shakes his hands through his hair, slapping his arms down to the sides of his thighs. She quirks a brow higher. "What's up?" He eyes her tiredly.

"Fuckin' laptop is broke, again!"

She gnaws on her inner cheek, glancing down at her watch and nodding with a wince. "Thought you got it fixed like two weeks ago?" She ponders aloud as she finishes typing up her sentence.

Azriel leans on the kitchen counter, nodding and huffing once more. He's only in a pair of sweats and an old shirt and Y/N's got on a pair of jeans and a nice blouse. Azriel thinks it's new, he hasn't seen it before.

He nods again. "I did, but it's still not fucking working. Stuff won't save and I need to get this assignment done by Friday."

Azriel has always been one to leave assignments and classwork to the last minute and more often than not, Y/N has ended up sacrificing her sleep to help him meet his deadlines. She's lost count of how many sleepless nights she's been faced with during the year she's been his roommate.

It wasn't exactly the first choice for both of them to share the flat. Azriel needed a roommate as he couldn't afford the rent after his last one bailed midterm, and Y/N was a transfer and in desperate need of accommodation.

They didn't know each other before she moved in and they were both desperate enough to just go for it. It turned out to be one of the best decisions they've both made. A friendship was quick to blossom between them in the first week of Y/N moving in, and over the year, they've only gotten closer.

And sure, on a few nights where they've been intoxicated at parties, they've shared a kiss or two. And yes, they both know they find each other highly attractive. And okay, maybe once or twice they've got off to the sound of the other person getting some. But they've never let anything change their friendship.

Azriel peers up at her, leaning down on the counter and pouting out his lips. "You’ve got work in a bit, don’t you?" He ponders innocently, nicking a grape from her plate and popping it into his mouth.

He waits patiently as she hums, eyes fixed on her screen and he knows she's finalising her conclusion. "Seeing as you’re gonna be at work, can I borrow your laptop to get a start on this essay?" His words gain her attention and she peers up over her screen to him.

She's always been a little sceptical about Azriel handling her laptop and he's never known why. At first, he supposed it was because she's very serious about her studies and she didn't trust that he wouldn't accidentally delete something important. But as time went on, he started to think maybe she's just a bit more personal than she lets on in person.

She pauses for a moment, like she's thinking it out before she nods hesitantly and tells him to hold on. He thinks she's saving her work and submitting it off, probably filing it under whatever folder it goes into.

He only knows one thing about her laptop. It's organised. She's got subfolders for subfolders and her tagging system is overly impressive to Azriel. She stands from her seat and stares at the screen, gnawing on her inner cheek and she's trying to make sure everything is in place.

"S'all yours. But I need it back when I get home tonight and don't go through any of my folders. Everything is all tidy and organised and I don't need you going through my notes and messing it all up."

Her words hold a promising threat and Azriel holds his hands up in surrender, nodding slowly at her. He has a sheepish smile as she spins the laptop to face him and gently shoves it across the counter – his smile morphing into one of a grateful grin and Y/N rolls her eyes playfully.

"I finish at eleven tonight, you've got twelve hours." She rounds the table, pressing a kiss to his temple and ruffling his already mussed up hair. He wraps an arm around her in a side-hug and leans across to kiss her bicep as she pushes off him.

"You’re an angel, thank you. I'll leave you some dinner in the fridge for when you come home." He calls after her when she leaves the room, can hear her call out a plethora of thanks and grumbles as she shoves her feet into a pair of trainers and grabs her bag.

He's too busy opening up a new document to hear her shout a goodbye or to hear the door slam behind her. He's twiddling his fingers before they start on the keyboard and he begins the introduction of his essay.

//

It's around 7:30 pm when Azriel starts to get a stiff neck and thinks he needs a break. His eyes have been glued to the laptop screen for eight hours and he's starting to get a headache.

Azriel makes up a quick few dishes of a chicken pasta salad, refrigerating Y/N's after he's eaten and opting to take a quick shower to ease his burning muscles.

He's getting tired and he needs at least another two cups of coffee if he's going to survive another three hours on this essay. He knows that really he should split the time up to be writing it, to not force the majority out in one sitting, but his creative juices are flowing and he knows Y/N needs her computer for her own studies. And Azriel doesn't much like the student library.

Dressed in a pair of sweats and with damp, messy hair, he toes his way into a pair of socks and gets himself comfy on his desk in his bedroom. He's opening up her laptop again, popping it on charge and he gnaws on his inner cheek, looking at the little Spotify icon on her dashboard.

He opens it up, plugging in a pair of wired earphones and he squints as he looks through her playlists. There's a couple on there he thinks he'll like: road trip music, shower music, sex music — his eyes widen and a smirk tugs on his lips at that — but he clicks on her study playlist and is pleasantly surprised by the plethora of Fleetwood Mac and a fair share of piano ballads.

His earbuds are back in as he picks up where he left off, gnawing on his inner cheek as a peaceful piano piece fills his ears. His room is fairly dark, an environment Azriel has always managed to work better in. His curtains are pulled closed and the lamp on his desk is the only light illuminating his room along with the bright screen of the laptop.

It's another thirty minutes of relentlessly typing before he pushes away from his desk to crack his neck and stretch his arms out. He's starting to reap the consequences of taking on the extra subcourse on his Law classes and he can feel a migraine start to migrate its way through his head.

"Fuck sake," he grumbles to himself. Azriel rubs his eyes, pulling himself back to his desk. He saves his document, minimising the tab to open up Google. He's midway through typing up a word he needs the definition for (a frazzled brain does this more often than not to him,) when a suggested search fills in the rest of it and his brows are furrowed.

How does onerous translate to a suggestion of Only Fans?

His eyes widen, mouse hovering over the link below the top search bar and gnawing on his bottom lip, he clicks on it. His heart is thumping in anticipation but he'll never admit to the way it drops when he's met with the login screen and her details aren't saved.

There's a dot of sweat on the arch of his brow and he squirms in his seat. There's no way his roommate – his friend – has an account on a site like that. Azriel wants to forget he even accidentally came across the frequented site, but he can't. Because now, he wants to know if she's just a viewer... or a creator.

He knows it's wrong, but he closes the browser and takes a look at her home screen. There are a few folders lined down the left-hand side – all titled with the names of the courses she's taking, a couple on the right with photos from birthdays and parties and memorable things she doesn't want to lose or forget.

His eyes flitter back over to the right side. Sociology. Psychology. Creative Writing. Business. Azriel squints. Y/N has never taken a business course in her life. His finger hovers over the touchpad for a moment. His eyes are squinted, his nosiness getting the better of him. Curiosity killed the cat. He gnaws on his inner cheek, clicking onto the folder and he's met with videos and videos, all titled with one word and a date.

Each video preview square is black and if Azriel squints enough, he can see a tiny naked Cupid with a bow and arrow. He's gnawing on his lower lip now, sucking it into his lip as he scrolls through the hundreds of videos dating back to last summer.

His brows are knitted when he gets to the bottom and he sees today's date. Curiosity eats at him again and his twitching finger is eager to know what's behind the blank preview box.

Azriel's brow raises involuntarily, spinning in his chair at his desk and he calls out Y/N's name, awaiting her response. He waits a moment then nothing comes. She's still at work. He turns back to his laptop hovering the mouse over today's video and he clicks it, the black screen only enlarging.

He pauses his Spotify playlist, minimising the tab and the second he clicks play, his bottom lip slips from between his teeth and his eyes grow wide, jaw falling slack.

The video is of her bed – rumpled sheets and soft, parted thighs as someone stands on their knees. Her lower body is adorned in a pair of pink panties, "all you can eat" in bold, black writing across her pussy and Azriel feels his throat growing dry.

He feels blood rush to his cock, feels a shiver run down his spine. He watches her lean closer to the camera, careful not to get her face in the shot but he sees her swollen lips that are either coated with saliva or gloss – he can't tell.

Azriel hears a breathy sigh as soft hands gently fall down her body and she sits on her heels, gorgeous tits standing perky on her chest and Azriel wants to reach out and touch her through the screen.

He can't believe this is happening. He's found a stash of naughty videos Y/N takes of herself and posts online. His cock is bloating in his pants at the sight of her tweaking her pebbled nipples and rolling her head back deliciously. He watches her part her legs further, can see a sticky, wet patch on the crotch of her panties before she's kicking them off and laying on her back.

His hand finds its way to his bulging cock, palming himself through his pants as his eyes flutter blurrily at the screen. The lights are dim on the tape, he can tell she's put a gentle filter above it, giving it a vintage and homemade-looking effect. He thinks that's what makes it all the dirtier.

He can see the strings of fairy lights that she's got draping down the wall her headboard is pushed against – the light twinkle of the lights casting a soft, warm glow over her gentle body and she thrashes softly in the sheets, thighs parted as he hears a buzzing come to life.

Her nipples are pebbled and hard, the swell of her breasts gently quaking as her head rolls back into her pillow. He doesn't need to see her face to know it's her. He knows her room like the back of his hand and if that wasn't a dead give away, the little sunflower tattoo on her ankle surely is.

Azriel lets out a shaky breath, fingers dipping into the waistbands of his sweatpants and he massages his length greedily in its confinements. His lips are parted, throat dry but his mouth is watering. He watches her part her thighs through the screen, her little pussy peeking between thick thighs and his mouth salivates as his cock springs to life.

She's glistening on camera, swollen lips and puffy clit. She's desperate, he can tell and though he feels like the biggest creep, watching her without her knowledge, he supposes it's not much different from the hundreds of viewers she no doubt gets. The thought makes his blood boil and his cock twitch.

"I'm so wet." He hears her shaky voice breathe, soft and teasing. He lets his eyes roll back for a moment as he tugs himself out of his pants, palming generously and reaching down to cup his balls.

Azriel lets himself picture her in the room with him, lets him imagine she's lying before him, forcing him to watch her touch herself. "You've got me so fucking wet." His cock jumps again and as a nimble moan teeters off her lips, his eyes blink open and he gawks at the sight he's blessed with.

Unholy, yes. Sinful, in all the best ways a man's soul needs. She's teasing her plush folds with the little purple bullet, the sounds of the vibrations tingling through his ears as her breathy moans sound through his speakers and fade into the silent room.

His fist is tight around his length, harsh, yet tender and eager tugs. She's holding the toy to her perfect clit, just enough pressure that he sees her thighs quiver and tremble and her hips buck deliciously.

The buzzing is numbing to his ears but fuck does he love the sound of her moans that follows. He hates himself for doing this to one of his close friends – to his roommate. But he can't bring himself to stop. Not when she looks like that and is touching herself with such gentle vigour he thinks he's gonna scream.

"Holy shit." Gruff moans are falling from his lips at the sight of her rolling her hips. He can see her cunt glistening on the screen, watches the way she tweaks a nipple between two slender fingers before bringing her hand down to her cunt, swirling the tip of her middle finger over her hole.

"Want your mouth on me, baby. Want you to taste me." His eyes are rolling back and he almost misses the way she brings her soaked finger up to her mouth and suckles off the juices with a sexy whine and hum of appreciation.

She pulls her finger from her mouth with a wet kissy sound and brings it back down to play with her cunt. "Wish you could taste how sweet my pussy is." Her voice is eager, desperate. She's a little nasally as she whines but Azriel thinks it's the hottest thing he's ever heard.

His mouth is salivating at the sight of her pretty cunt, of how wet and swollen it looks – how desperate it is to be eaten. He halts his pumping, spits down directly on the head of his meaty cock and winces deliciously at the feel of it.

Azriel smears the wetness across his head and shaft, twisting his hand as he goes up and down in a rhythmic state. "Want you to fill me up with your big, hard cock." His eyes roll back, jaw slack at the sound of her breathy moans. He can't believe what he's hearing.

Y/N's swirling her finger through her wetness again, dipping her middle finger into her dripping hole and her gasp is what brings Azriel's attention back to the video. His eyes are wide and hooded, teeth clenched and lips tightly shut. He's focused now, he doesn't want to miss a thing.

"God, my pussy is so tight. Please, need it, baby. Need you to fuck me."

He's tugging his cock faster, fondling his balls with an eager goal in mind. Her pussy sucks up her finger, clenching as she adds another. He can't see her face but he doesn't need to, he already knows her jaw is slack and her eyes are clenched shut.

He watches her turn up the vibe, the sounds of the buzzing twice as loud and he knows she's close. Her moans are louder, higher and Azriel can't help but wonder when the fuck she recorded this. Surely not when he's home or he definitely would have heard her.

But the date says it's from this morning, so he's forced to believe she filmed it when he was at class, just before he came back and his laptop broke. The thought excites him even more and his cock twitches in his hold.

All he can think about is burying his face in her sweet little cunt, devouring her pussy until she's screaming and begging for him to stop. He wants her cum on his tongue and then again on his cock and on his fingers. Fuck, he wants her cum to be the only thing he'll ever taste again.

"Tight fucking cunt, baby. So fucking good." His praises slip out but he can't help them, just wishes she could hear them, see what she's doing to him.

Y/N's hips start to buck eagerly, jagged movements that follow with her legs thrashing as her body is sent into a state of euphoric bliss. He watches her clamp a hand over her mouth to muffle her pornographic cries and screams and he wills his eyes to stay open as his own release washes over him and spurts out in whitish ribbons over his hands and pants.

His head rolls back when she relaxes into her mattress, her vibrator off and thrown to the side. He's got a heavy grin on his lips as he hears her sheepish giggles slip from her lips. Azriel wants to hear her fucked out laugh in the crook of his neck as she cuddles into him, tasting her cum from his fingers.

He shakes his head, cock softening in his hand as he looks back at the screen. He expects it to go black, to see no more of her and to clean himself up. But she lays still for another moment before she sits up and brings her cum-soaked fingers to her lips.

She spreads them slowly, strings of arousal connected between the two digits and she breaks the link with her tongue, suckling them both into her mouth and humming at the taste. Her lips are swollen as she does so, cheeks hollowed and he wishes she would dip her head down a little more so he could see her blissed-out eyes, too.

She doesn't. Instead, she pulls her fingers from her mouth with a pop and a cheeky grin tugs on the corner of her mouth until she's got a shy smirk on those lips. Azriel feels his cock twitch in his hand, hardening slowly and he doesn't think he can coax another orgasm out of himself so soon. But then she speaks and he's complete fucked.

"And that's what happens when you accidentally catch your roommate getting off in the shower." His eyes are wide, lips parted and mouth dry. He watches her shy smile morph into one of a teasing smirk before she pouts her lips into a kiss that she blows to the screen.

"Thank you, Azzy."

Curiosity killed the cat, but satisfaction brought it back – twice as curious and twice as hungry than before.

//

Thank you for reading!! If you enjoyed it please give it a reblog so it can reach other people too. Feedback is also always appreciated <3

[konigsblog]

Nerd!König, but he demands compensation for his helpfulness and generosity after studying alongside you. He won't ask for anything until he's finished writing an entire essay for you, where he then hints at being jerked off for his patience towards you. I mean, without him, you would've failed, Liebling. Don't you think König deserves a little something after all that typing and effort? You don't even have to touch him, just allow the poor intelligent virgin to grope your body and palm himself gently and slowly, getting off to the feeling of a woman's body for the first time. Your soft skin is admirable and mesmerising, leaving him with a hefty, growing, and aching bulge that throbs and pulsates beneath your bodyweight.

Or instead, lay there against your knees between his muscular thighs, maintaining deep and intimate eye contact with the debauched, freakish sicko while he strokes himself to the beauty of your face, the delicate details of each feature. Each gentle, sloppy stroke earns you a guttural, hoarse growl from the giant looming over your form who fists his leaking dick rapidly through euphoria. Your eyes flicker from his swollen and hung cock, to his silver, half-lidded eyes. “Just look at me, Mauschen. Bitte—!”

I mean, you want to pass, don't you? You'd be helpless without König. Show him some thankfulness and gratefulness. 📚

[inthemiddleofmae]

morning embrace - paul mescal x reader

summary - paul comes home after a run to see you making breakfast

word count: ~670

a/n: someone might have watched gladiator ii and fell in love all over again with paul then wrote this instead of writing their uni essay...hmm i wonder who that is!! here's something short n sweet i wrote to make up for the serious lack of paul/lucius fics :(

the london sky was rosy and cloudy; it was 7am on a thursday and the sun was still in the process of rising. you had the perfect view of the city out of your kitchen window, and every time you cooked in here, you reconfirmed in your head that you and paul made the right decision buying the flat almost 6 months ago. though the two of you hadn't lived there for long, it was already home.

the radio was on, as usual, and was playing quietly in the background. the sizzling of eggs and mushrooms on the frying pan quickly overpowered the vocals of a song you couldn't quite recognise.

the scent of freshly brewed coffee mingled with the last remnants of the lavender incense that you burned before going to bed last night. this was the first thing paul smelt when he came through the door, with a slight slam and vibration alerting you to turn around. it was then that the smell of breakfast hit him. beads of sweat trickled down his thick, slightly quivered brows - evidence of his long run through the park.

"morning, love," you greeted him, your voice barely coming through the bustle of the kitchen.

paul, still catching his breath, offered a contented smile. his eyes, however, showcased a hunger not satiated by the run alone. you smiled, looking into his eyes before turning back to the stove to gently stir the almost ready mushrooms.

paul approached you and you could feel his eyes on the back of your head. the smile on your face, still present, grew even wider as you felt his larger, sweaty presence lurking over you, taking a deep inhale of the aroma coming from the pan.

"smells amazing," paul murmured, his nose now pressing gently into the curls of your hair. his voice felt like a gentle caress against what was now the morning quiet, with all other sounds falling into the background, leaving only the intimate space you both shared.

"i aim to please - especially hungry runners." you replied, a teasing glint in your eyes.

though his chest was already lightly touching your back, a magnetic pull seemingly drew the two of you even closer together. paul's arms encircled your waist, and you quickly turned the stove off, for you had expected to be distracted now that you were in the arms of your lover.

“thank you.” paul whispered, pressing a lingering kiss to the nape of your neck, making you all flustered and warm inside.

as the aroma of the now finished breakfast continued to fill the air, you turned around in paul's arms to face him. your eyes met first in a silent exchange, then you tilted you head up so your lips could meet - a fusion of passion, the sweet taste of morning, and the slightly salty taste of his sweat.

your soft fingers traced gentle patterns on paul's ever so damp chest as the two of you embraced each other, savoring the rare, quiet morning together. with your busy 9-to-5 job and paul’s demanding acting schedule, moments like this didn’t come often. but with paul on a short break and you having taken a few days off, you were determined to make the most of it. the kiss deepened as the pair of you smiled into it and slowly swayed to the melody in the background.

“you stink, paul.” you whisper after he hesitantly breaks the kiss, both of you bursting into a soft laughter.

“fuck off,” he says playfully, his arms still around your waist. “how about i eat the beautiful breakfast you made me first, and then we can both get in the shower?”

“well i’m not gonna say no to that.” you say as you raise one of your hands and begin admiring his bearded chin.

with one last peck, paul releases his hands from your waist and reaches above you to grab two plates. you can't help but feel content.

[ellecdc]

✋🏻 i have a request

so i’m a loudmouth, a D1 yapper if you will. could you maybe please write something with a yapper reader who just gets quiet and flustered in regulus’s presence?

like she’ll be going on about the randomest thing and regulus walks by and her mouth snaps shut and her face gets bright red.

hiiiii! I decided to pair this with two anonymous requests for our dear reggie too! prompt 2: I was thinking maybe a Potter! Reader who is in the same year as Regulus and has a huge crush on him, she just kind of watches him from a distance, here comes James and Sirius noticing and they try to set her up with Reggie prompt 3: I was wondering if I could get a regulus x reader where regulus is like close to the marauders and then Reggie gains like a crush on reader and the marauders find out and like kinda spy on them but like not well and maybe it ends in Reggie asking reader out

Regulus Black x Potter!reader who has a 'big fat crush' on Reggie

CW: sibling squabbles, this was hard for me to write for some reason so I'm sorry if it reads awkwardly!

“I’m just saying, if you didn’t want your essay to go up in flames, maybe you should have spent less time talking about which of your classmates were ‘filthy blood traitors’, and more time making sure I couldn’t point my wand at your parchment, you know?” You asked rhetorically as James and Sirius roared with laughter. 

“How far along was he in his essay?” Peter asked with a low chuckle before taking another bite of his lunch.

“Oh, he was done. He probably should have handed it in instead of running his mouth.” You said with a proud smirk as your brother roughly patted you on the back, letting out another bark of laughter. 

“I would have paid good money to see the look on his face.” Sirius said as he wiped fake tears away from under his eyes. 

“Find me a pensieve, Black, and I’ll show you.” You offered with a wink before remembering something.  “Oh! James, I meant to tell you; I heard from Janey who heard from Cromwell who heard from Collins whose sister works at Honeydukes that they’re having a sale on those caramel sugar quills that-”

“-Lily likes so much!” James finished for you. “My hero! Thank you!” He said as he pressed a sloppy kiss to the side of your head.

You feigned disgust and rubbed it off before continuing. “If you want, I can ask Janey to ask Cromwell to ask Collins to ask his sister to put some aside for you?”

“I’d owe you my life.” He responded solemnly. 

“Chocolate frogs will suffice.” 

“Consider it done.” 

“I’d like chocolate frogs too, Prongs.” Remus offered then.

“What have you done to help me win over the girl of my dreams, Moony?” James countered. 

“I’ve not told her about the time you screamed like an ickle little first year when you found Fenwick’s toad in your shoe.” Remus replied plainly.

“Why do they have to have warts!?” James groaned miserably as he remembered his toad assault. 

“The bumps aren’t actually warts, Jamie; they’re glands. They contain a toxin that they will secrete if they feel threatened.” You explained.

James blinked at you owlishly before shaking his head in disgust. “That doesn’t make me feel any better.” 

“Hello, Sirius.” Regulus’ voice interrupted then, standing stiffly behind Sirius as he looked around the group of you. “Lupin, Pettigrew…Potter’s.” 

“‘Sup, Reggie?” Sirius responded easily.

“���Lo, baby Black! What brings you to the red side of the Great Hall?” James asked then, earning him a glare from the younger Black brother.

“Don’t call me that.”

“Well that just makes me want to call you that even more.” James admitted.

“What brings you to the Gryffindor table?” Remus repeated with a knowing smirk.

“Can’t I just come say hello to my brother?” He asked defensively. 

“You could, but would you?” Sirius asked sceptically then.

Sirius and Regulus stared at each other in silence before Regulus finally sighed. 

“Potter, erm… Y/N, I was wondering if you’ve finished Professor Sprout’s essay about the proper propagation of venomous tentacula’s?” 

At the following silence, James turned to notice you staring at Regulus in what appeared to be abject horror before you slowly nodded your head. 

“How, uhm… how many feet of parchment did it end up being?” Regulus continued awkwardly; his eyes flitting between you and his brother. 

The group watched as you opened your mouth a few times only to close it again - not unlike some socially awkward fish - before clearing your throat. 

“Erm…I think it’s about four feet.”

Regulus seemed relieved by your answer and nodded in understanding. “Good, mine is about that as well.”

James looked between his friends, his sister, and his best friend’s little brother after a few moments when it became clear that no one was going to say anything else.

“Was…was that all, Regulus?” Peter asked then, clearly agreeing with James that lunch had quickly become painfully awkward. 

Regulus seemed to look at you first, only responding when you kept your gaze down at the wood grain of the table. 

“I suppose so. I’ll see you lot around.” 

And with that, the Slytherin boy hurried back to his side of the Great Hall.

James’ eyes only left Regulus’ form when he heard a miserable groan escape your lips as you let your head fall to the table with a thunk.

“What the fuck was that?” Sirius and James questioned at the same time.

“I’ve gotta go.” You muttered miserably as you gathered your bag and stood from the Gryffindor bench.

“Where?!” James called after you. 

“To run away with the fucking centaurs at this point!” You called back before disappearing through the doors. 

“Since when does Regulus come to say hi to you, Pads?” Peter asked then, still watching Regulus from across the hall who now had his eyes glued to the door. 

Sirius, who up until that point looked just as bemused as Peter did, had a look of understanding dawn on his face. 

“Merlin’s beard.” He hissed as he smacked James in the arm from across the table.

“Ow! What? What? Why are you hitting me?” James called as he rubbed his arm protectively. 

“When was the last time you saw Y/N be reduced to awkward silence?” He asked then.

“At mum and dads fundraising gala when that wizard from Witch Weekly attended.” James answered quickly; knowing that one of his sister’s greatest strengths was her ability to talk (especially when it helped get them all out of trouble). “Though she’s been doing it an awful lot lately.”

“Like when you coerced Regulus into joining us at the Three Broomsticks last weekend.” Remus offered.

James nodded. “And when I made her come with me to scout the Ravenclaw vs. Slytherin game last Monday.” 

“And when Regulus just happened to be looking for a Herbology textbook when she was studying in the Herbology section of the library.” Remus continued.

“Godric’s balls.” Peter breathed out, looking towards Sirius incredulously. “You’re not suggesting-”

“-that our littlest Potter has a big fat crush on the littlest Black? I sure am.” Sirius said smugly. 

“I don’t think she’s the only one with a ‘big fat crush’.” Remus added, nodding towards Regulus who was chewing aggressively on his lip, still looking in the direction you just went.

“Oh my Godric.” James hissed as he turned towards Sirius excitedly. “Oh my Godric, Pads! We’d be real life actual brother’s-in-law!” 

“I’m going to walk Reggie down the aisle.” Sirius added wistfully as he clutched at his chest. 

“Merlin and Morgana. They can’t even make it through a sodding conversation; stop planning their wedding.” Remus muttered as he turned a page in his book. 

James let out an incredibly dramatic gasp as he looked at Remus. “You’re right. We have to do something!” 

“What do you say, boys? Up for some mischief for the greater good?” Sirius asked with a perfectly arched eyebrow. 

“Operation turn Potter Black!” James cheered to the group, causing the three boys to look at him in various levels of bemusement and discomfort.

“Erm, Prongs…” Peter started.

“Absolutely fucking not.” Remus added.

“We can’t call it that.” Sirius agreed. 

“We’ll circle back to it.” James said as he stood from the table.

Sirius shared a slightly panicked look with the other two Marauders before standing as well. “No…no James, we really can’t call it that.” 

“It’ll be a placeholder until you guys think of something better!”

“Anything would be better.” Peter whined as they all trailed out of the Great Hall in the name of mischief. 

。.。:+* ﾟ ゜ﾟ *+:。.。:+* ﾟ ゜ﾟ *+:。.。.。:+*ﾟ ゜ﾟ *+:。.。:+*ﾟ

“Quick! You’ve got to see what we’ve planned.” James had said to you as he grabbed you roughly by your arm outside of Transfiguration and hauled you in the direction of the library.

You allowed him to nearly drag you through the courtyard and into the central haul; apologising to students that you nearly collided with in his haste. 

“But…what did McLaggen do? Why are you pranking him?” You asked breathlessly as the two of you made it to the library doors.

“The bloke’s a prick, Trouble, do keep up.” Sirius called as you met up with him. 

The two boys ushered you through stacks of books towards the end of the library that held private study rooms when Remus and Peter materialised from a row of shelves.

“He’s coming!” Peter squeaked as Remus quickly redirected the three of you. 

“That way, quickly.” 

Knowing better than to question Remus, you allowed James to guide you by the shoulder towards one of the private study rooms in order to hide from McLaggen as he walked into their trap. 

Except…

Except no sooner had Sirius opened the door did James bodily shove you into the room before they slammed the door behind you.

“Wha- James!” You shouted as you heard him cast a locking charm and a muffliato around the door. 

“What are they up to now?” A tired voice sounded from behind you.

You squeezed your eyes shut as you realised what they had done, praying to every deity that the voice didn’t belong who you thought it belonged to. 

But of course, the deities didn’t give a bowtruckles arse about you, so you turned on the spot to see Regulus Black sitting at the end of the table looking at you with a sceptical expression and one perfectly arched brow. 

Godric, he was beautiful.

“Making my life hell.” You answered despondently. 

Regulus offered you a tight lipped smile as he nodded in understanding. “Ah, so, regular brother stuff then?”

You breathed out a chuckle as you nodded, trying once more at the door before giving up in your efforts to escape. 

“What did you do to get yourself locked in a room with me?” He asked then, fiddling with the tomes and notes in front of him.

“Had the audacity to be born into the Potter family, I guess.” You muttered.

Regulus made a non-committal sound as he considered you. “I’m sure a lot of people would have loved the honour.”

Your face softened as you looked at the Slytherin boy. “I know they’ve asked you already, but you should come, you know? I know Sirius would love it if you did, and my parents would too.” 

Regulus nodded slowly at you, though he never moved his gaze from your eyes. “I wouldn’t want to make anyone uncomfortable.”

“Uncomfortable?”

Regulus smiled ruefully then. “Correct me if I’m wrong, but I don’t get the impression that you like me very much.”

You stood there with your mouth agape like some mute opera singer. “Okay, I’ll correct you then; you’re very wrong Regulus Black.”

“Oh, I’m very wrong, am I?” 

“Horribly so, I’m afraid; I can’t believe you’d even say such a thing.” You continued haughtily; finally sitting down in a chair across from him. 

“Well, you see, everyone is always telling me how much of a chatterbox you are, yet you never seem too keen on chatting with me. In fact, I’m pretty sure you’ve exchanged more words with Mulciber at this point.” He teased.

“The most I ever talk to Mulciber is to tell him to go fuck himself!”

A divot formed between his brows as he tilted his head in confusion. “Is that not just your love language? I’ve heard you say the exact same thing to Potter and my brother.” 

You narrowed your eyes at him as you leaned back in your chair. “Touche” 

Regulus smirked at you then. “So, why don’t you talk to me?”

You let out a heaving sigh and looked to the ceiling. 

You were trapped, and you knew why you were trapped, and you figured there was no use in pretending that you didn’t. 

“I suppose I find you a little…nerve wracking.” You settled for, figuring that telling him you thought he was so handsome that even standing within his vicinity seemed to short circuit not only your brain but somehow your entire nervous system would perhaps be a little much. 

“Oh good.” He responded, sounding truly relieved by your answer. “I thought it was only me.”

What? You thought stupidly.

“What?” You asked stupidly. 

“I find you a little nerve wracking too.” He responded.

“Me?” 

“You.”

“Why?” You nearly shrilled before remembering yourself and feeling immediately embarrassed for your theatrics.

“Well, I suppose for the same reasons you find me nerve wracking?” Regulus offered. “You’re really quite pretty, Y/N.” 

You swear to all of the gods that your brain made an audible record scratch sound at that moment as you tried to compute what he had said to you. 

He called you pretty, that much went without interpretation. But did he just insinuate that he knew you thought he was pretty?

“You do know that, right?” He asked, shaking you from your internal spiralling. 

“Know what?”

Regulus smirked then. “That you’re pretty?”

You scoffed and crossed your arms petulantly. “Of course I knew that; I just wasn’t aware that you did, too.” 

“Ah,” He started with a smile. “My apologies, I’ll make it more obvious that I find you attractive going forward.”

“Thank you.” You huffed.

“You’re very welcome.”

The two of you allowed a semi-comfortable silence to lap as he continued watching you and you continued looking anywhere else but him.

“So,” He interrupted eventually. “What now?” 

You tapped your arms in thought. “Now I figure out how to get back at my meddlesome brother.” 

Regulus hummed as he nodded his head. “I’m sure you’ll think of something.”

“Yeah…hey, do you happen to know where I could find a toad or two?”

“Yes, actually. I’m quite certain Evan and Barty are breeding some in the dungeons.” He answered with a look of ill-hidden discomfort at the thought.

“Do you think they’d let me borrow some?”

“Well that depends; would they be used for chaos and/or destruction?”

“Yes.” You responded quickly.

“Oh, well then absolutely.” He quipped back.

He smiled and held your gaze before leaning on his arms against the table. “How about this? I’ll ask Barty and Evan for some of their toads, if you go to Hogsmeade with me next weekend.”

You narrowed your eyes as you pretended to think about it before extending your hand across the table. “Deal.”

He shook your hand as he offered you a crooked smile before leaning back into his seat.

The door popped open just enough for your brother to poke his traitorous head in. “Are you guys in love yet?”

He barely had time to pull his head out of the frame and shut the door as you hurled your book bag at him; the blunt force instrument you had hoped would at the very least incapacitate your brother simply thudding against the wall before falling to the ground in a sad heap.

“You know he’s just going to keep you locked in here longer for that, right?” Regulus asked you then.

You made a non-committal sound as you settled back into your chair. “Perhaps that isn't such a bad thing.”

[montagoves]

redamancy | jason todd

genre: comfort x3

warning: jason todd

summary: jason is reminded of how much he loves you–and how much you love him

a/n: after a handful of failed tinder dates, i just needed to write something to remind myself that if no one got me jason todd got me

Redamancy: a love returned in full

The word itself stems from the New Latin redamantia, and from the Classical Latin redamō meaning, “I requite love”. How we translate redamancy is this: a love returned in full; an act of loving the one who loves you; the act of loving in return.

He hadn’t meant to fall asleep, but the clicking sounds from your last-minute essay writing and the soft sounds of The Cranberries had lulled him into the first real nap he’s taken in the last few months. The book he had barely gotten a chapter through laid over his face, blocking the overhead lights you both hated but you swore made you more motivated to do homework. In reality, you just hated them so much that it drove you to work quicker so you could turn them off as soon as you were done. 

You had a lot of small things like that – things that made Jason’s heart swoon in a way he didn’t think it was capable of. Like when you tell him that pile of laundry would eventually get done, you just had to get hit with the cleaning zoomies which occur “approximately every 3-4 weeks.” And when you do get hit with the cleaning zoomies, you put on your headphones, blare Deftones, and deep clean your entire apartment. You could spend hours cleaning the bathroom, neglecting all your other responsibilities. 

Like eating your meals, which in that case Jason always came to your rescue. He’d pat your pretty head and once you took off your headphones and looked up at him with those eyes, he’d tell you he made your favorite meal. You’d reluctantly go to eat with him, and after enjoying the meal with your lover you’d feel lazy. You’d blame him for ruining your motivation, and Jason would just kiss your sweet lips and tell you he could find a way to motivate you again. 

Jason also likes the way he feels when you look at him. You two would be over at Roy’s place, Lian in Jason’s lap as Roy talked about some sports team that pissed him off recently. And Jason would be bouncing Lian in his lap or mindlessly curling her hair with his fingers. Roy’s voice would fade into the background and your focus would only be on Jason – on that smile that creeps on his face whenever Roy curses and Lian repeats it, on the way his eyes seem to gleam whenever he glances over at you, on the way you picture him holding your child, which you two have talked about but you’re both far too young to consider now. 

And Gods, when he catches on to you staring, his hands get clammy the way they did when he first met you. His cheeks turn as red as his vigilante helmet and he noticeably clenches his jaw to keep from nervously laughing. He’s never been looked at with that much love before. He’s had you by his side for years yet he still hasn’t gotten used to the feeling. 

What is he supposed to do when he wakes up to the feeling of you perching yourself on top of him during his nap? He remains still, for the most part, feigning sleep as you try to get comfortable. You must have finished your essay because from under his book’s pages, he can see a candle flickering, the smell of whiskey and vanilla filling the small apartment. He’s quick to close his eyes when you gently move the book away. He hears you take his bookmark, one you had handcrafted yourself, and save his page before setting the book aside. He feels as you lay down fully, your head resting on his chest and your arms attempting to wrap around his waist. Your head moves as Jason’s heart flutters, and your lips brush his jawline in a way he’d only let you do. 

“Baby,” you whisper to him, your hand moving to brush the bangs away from his face. He pretends to be woken up, his eyelashes fluttering open to see you. 

“Hi,” he manages to whisper, making a smile form on your lips. You lean in and nuzzle your face against his neck, and a shaky breath leaves his lips. 

“How’d you sleep?” you mumble against his skin. He slowly moves his hands, slipping them under your hoodie so he can hold your hips. You feel so warm. 

“Fine,” he mumbles back, watching as you lift your head. You look like Heaven, and Jason’s heart is pounding so hard against his chest he fears it may explode. 

What a beautiful way to die, he thinks. 

“Finished your essay?” he asks, his hand reaching out to cup your cheek. His thumb slowly brushes your chin, then traces your bottom lip. You blush, leaning against his palm. 

“Mostly,” you admit sheepishly. “You looked so comfy and I was starting to get a headache, so I wanted to cuddle with you. I’ll finish it tomorrow morning.”

He bites back the smile you never fail to produce, and his thumb pulls back your bottom lip. 

“That can be arranged,” he says, tucking your outgrown bangs behind your ear. His fingers trace along your earlobe, fiddling with the earrings you wore. A peaceful silence falls over the two of you, and Jason’s extremely aware of the look in your eyes. His cheeks twinge that red shade, and he clenches his jaw. 

“I love you,” you finally whisper. He gulps, his eyes flicking to yours. At that moment, he swears no one could make his body react in the way you managed to do. 

“I love you too,” he whispers back after a few moments. The words are new to him, almost sounding foreign on his tongue. But he makes an internal promise to practice this language for you. 

He practices it as you lean down and press your lips to his. He cups the back of your head to bring you closer, in an attempt to become one. You let out a soft sigh that makes his body shiver, and you pull away with yet another gorgeous smile on your lips. 

You lay on him again, your head resting in the crook between his shoulder and neck. Jason’s fingers thread through your hair as soft snores leave your lips. 

He hadn’t meant to fall asleep, but your body on his makes his eyes shut and his arms move to rest around your shoulders. His muscles relax and his heart returns to its natural pace. He feels you shift for a moment, your lips brushing his neck to give him one final kiss. To remind him you’re here, and that you’re not going anywhere. 

Another thing Jason loves about you – you love him back just the same.

[marauder-misprint]

Eek I’m the one that asked about requests, so excited you’re taking them!

My idea was fem!reader x whichever marauder you want (not Pete sorry not sorry) where the reader is flirty but not in a hitting on everyone and pickup lines type of way. It’s in a she’s very friendly, likes to give out compliments just cause she wanted to, and is just warm and open to people type of way.

Ngl im a sucker for some angst with a happy ending so if that somehow works with whatever idea you come up with that would be cool but no pressure!

I hope this sounds like something you’d wnjiy writing but again no pressure at all<3

I hope this has that kind of vibe you were going for! Thank you for being my first request - I'm very excited and very nervous for this. ♡

Sunshine Incarnate

Remus Lupin x fem!reader

1.8k words

cw: fluff, angst

“God, she’s such a fucking tease,” Sirius sighs, leaning back in a plush armchair in the library.

“Who is?” Remus asks, not looking up from his book.

“Her,” he answers, gesturing toward you. “Little Miss Sunshine herself.”

Remus’ gaze shoots up, first looking at Sirius and then at you. You were talking with some Ravenclaw boy, absorbed in the conversation and oblivious to the rest of the library.

“A tease?” Remus asks.

Sirius hums. “Whenever you talk to her, she gives you these eyes. Then she’ll give you some flirty comment and walk away. Fucking. Tease.”

“Don’t talk about her that way,” Remus growls, still not looking away from you.

“Remus, you’ve experienced what he’s talking about though, right?” Peter asks. “She sits next to you in Herbology.”

Remus has experienced the eyes that Sirius is describing. When you talked to someone, they had your entire attention. You were fully engaged. He’d also been on the receiving end of your compliments before as well; he replayed them in his head when he was feeling low. But Remus would be an idiot to ignore that you did this with everyone. 

“Oh my god, I love your hair like that!”

“That’s brilliant! You’re a genius.” 

“I haven’t read that book before. Is it any good?” “Yeah, It’s my favorite.” “Yeah? Tell me about it.”

It’s who you are. As Sirius had called you, you are Little Miss Sunshine. You brightened every room you entered and made everyone feel important. Remus didn’t think there was a single person in all of Hogwarts who didn’t like you. How could they? 

“Remus?” Peter repeats, tossing a crumpled piece of parchment at him.

“Huh? What?”

“Wormy asked you about Sunshine’s eyes and you zoned,” James says. He’s busy working on an essay that the rest of the group had already finished. 

“Of course. Yes. Although I think it’s called active listening,” Remus says, sounding more irritated than he intended. “Something you could work on,” he adds on in a grumble. 

“My ears work just fine, thank you very much,” Sirius says. 

Then his face lights up and he waves at you. You had briefly turned away from the Ravenclaw boy and Sirius’ wave caught your eye. You wave back, excuse yourself and make your way to the Gryffindors. 

“Hi!” you say cheerfully. “Remus, that sweater looks really soft.”

His face flushed at your words. He could barely mutter out a thanks. 

“What’re you working on?” you ask, standing next to Remus. You’re looking at the pages of the book he’s reading, hoping to see a title at the top of the pages but there’s nothing to go off of, not even a diagram to say if it was a Herbology or Charms book. 

“That damned Potions essay,” James answers. 

“Good thing you’re not too shabby in that class then,” you say with a smile. “Can’t be too difficult.”

James looks up from his essay to return your smile. “It’s not. Just annoying to do.”

“Annoying to do is my Divination dream journal!” you reply with a giggle. “Like I need a teacher knowing what happens in my subconscious.”

“I’d like to know what happens in your subconscious,” Sirius says, now leaning forward. 

You give him an eye roll. “Become a Divination tutor and maybe. Remus, did you do that Herbology worksheet yet?”

“Uh, yeah. Yeah, I did. Yesterday.” 

“Shoot, I was hoping we could work on it together. You’re so much better at Herbology than I am.”

“Oh, it’s not too difficult,” he says, briefly looking up from his book to give you a smile.

You’re already looking at him with those eyes and a smile. Butterflies take flight in his stomach. He has to look away quickly, despite not wanting to. 

“Okay,” you say, bouncing on your toes. “I’ll see you later.”

As you walk away, Peter hits Remus with a roll of parchment.

“Are you daft?” he whispers, unsure if you’re out of earshot yet. “She was flirting with you.”

He shakes his head. “No, she wasn’t.”

“She wanted to work on Herbology homework with you.”

“Because we share the class? And I’m smart?”

“You’re daft,” James confirms.

The rest of the afternoon and into the evening, Remus is replaying the conversation. Had you been flirting with him? Actually flirting or being your kind self? Even if you were flirting with him, you’d certainly stop as soon as you found out that he was a werewolf. Sunshine incarnate could not be with someone who turns with the moon. He was Moony for goodness sake. But she had complimented both his sweater and Herbology skills in one conversation with only James also receiving a compliment. How had he earned two compliments over Sirius? With all of your kindness and Sirius’ natural charisma, you two usually bantered like an entertaining yet sickening tennis match. 

“You know, the things I would do to her if she said the word,” Sirius says, bringing Remus out of his thoughts. 

“Still on about Sunshine, are you?” James asks.

“Still on about Evans?” Sirius retorts.

“Would it kill you to shut up and stay away from her?” Remus snaps.

Sirius and James shoot him a confused look. He had been mostly quiet since leaving the library, but it was Remus. He just did that sometimes. 

“Stay away from her?” Sirius repeats. “From Madam Sunshine herself? Why would I do that?”

“She’s the sweetest,” James adds with a smirk. 

“Yeah, I know,” Remus grumbles. “She doesn’t need you assholes to bring her down.”

“I’m not bringing her down,” James says defensively.

“Just leave her out of your… fantasies.”

“Why?” Sirius presses.

“Just, it’s… it’s you,” Remus says, gesturing wildly. 

“Yeah, and?” Sirius asks, leaning forward toward Remus with narrowing eyes. 

“You’re messy.” Remus pauses. “We’re messy.”

“So we’re all staying away from her?” Peter asks. 

“I, uh, I guess so.” 

Remus couldn’t tell his three closest friends to stay away from her because they were messy and not include himself, possibly the messiest of the group. But, god, he wanted to be close to you. He wanted to hold you and be held by you. He wanted to kiss your perfect smile that was ever present on your perfect lips. He wanted to be the reason your gorgeous eyes lit up. He wanted you to look for him in the room. He wanted you to be his sunshine. 

Sirius shares a knowing look with James and Peter that Remus misses. Though he had tried to be subtle, his friends know when Remus is down bad, and he is for you. 

---

In Remus’ presence, you’re no longer a topic of discussion. The boys successfully steer all conversations away from you. Remus doesn’t think anything of it, assuming they actually listened to him and are staying away from you and all your perfectness. 

That is, until you walk over and sit next to Remus at lunch. You set your books down gently and give the boys a smile.

“That’s our cue to leave. See you in Dark Arts, Moony,” Sirius says with a grin. James and Peter follow him away from the table, leaving you alone with him. 

“That was… weird,” Remus mumbles, watching them leave before turning his attention back to you. 

He tries to hide the confusion on his face, but you see it anyway.

“Did you not… did you not ask me to practice nonverbal spells with you?”

Remus stares at you blankly. “No?”

You pull out a piece of parchment and hand it to him.

“I got this at breakfast.”

It was a note, in Sirius’ handwriting no less, asking you to meet at lunch to practice spells. When he looks up from the note, you are biting your lip with a hopeful look on your face. 

“Even if it’s not from you, would you mind practicing? I’m rubbish at them and, well, you’re great at everything.” 

Remus feels his face heat at the compliment. 

“You’re not rubbish at them.”

“No, I really am! I try them all the time and they never work! I’ve tried to levitate notes to you in Transfiguration and the stupid notes never lift more than a centimeter off the desk!” you ramble.

“Notes… to me?” 

It’s your turn to blush. You had never successfully passed a note to him. The notes that never made it to him often had compliments on them; the most recent had been to ask him to Hogsmeade. But when you continuous failed to get them to him, you had taken that as a sign from the universe that it wasn’t meant to be, but you weren’t one to give up easily. Maybe you were misreading the signs and you needed to go to him for help. So when you received the note from fake Remus, you were over the moon. 

“Oh, yeah. Just little comments about lessons. Nothing too important,” you lie. 

“You were trying to give me notes…” Remus mutters, still in disbelief that you were writing notes to him in the first place, even if they were ‘little comments.’

“Yes?”

You’re not sure what gives you the boldness, but you dig through your bag again and pull out some of the notes. You’re not sure why you kept them, but you did. 

“Okay, little comments, yes. About the lessons, not really.”

You hold out one for him to take.

You mastered teacup to gerbil quickly. You’re amazing!

“That, uh, that should be the first one.”

His hands are shaking as he reads it over and over. 

“You kept them?”

You nod, a little unsure. He reaches out and takes the rest from your hands. You feel your blush grow as he reads each other. It’s only a slight comfort that his blush is also increasing with each note. 

He looks up at you with a curious expression that’s topped with hopeful eyes.

“You were going to ask me to Hogsmeade?”

You open your mouth to speak but words don’t come out. You nod.

“If the offer still stands, I’d, uh, I’d love you. I’d love to. Ahem. I’d love to go to Hogsmeade with you.”

You’re certain your face is as red as his. 

“This weekend then?”

“Yeah,” he breathes. 

You lean in and kiss his cheek, your own boldness surprising you yet again.

“We can, erm, work on nonverbals later. I’ll see you later, Remus.” 

He watches you leave the Great Hall in a hurry. His hand slowly comes up to touch the spot where you had kissed him. Maybe, just maybe, you had been flirting with him. 

---

“How did that go, Moony?”

“You are bastards. All of you.”

“How did it go?”

“She kissed me,” he says, still blushing furiously.

“I told you!” Sirius cheers. “I told you he was projecting.”

“Projecting?”

“Mate, you called us messy. I mean, yeah, we are, but it’s your tell.”

[pumpkin-cake]

begging for ANYTHING fix it related for the most recent season !!!

five x reader and they are married?? it would be nice if the reader had a more relaxed job in comparison to five in the CIA (the reader used to also work for the commission but wanted a calm life)

like maybe working in a daycare or flower shop?

i’m honestly begging for anything sweet please if you’ve got the time !

THIS HAS ME IN A CHOKEHOLD. YES, I WILL WRITE THIS FOR YOU <3 I ALSO HATE THE WAY THEY CHARACTERIZED FIVE IN THE NEW SEASON. This will be very domestic :3 And it's been a while since I've written Five, I hope he's not too out of character, let me know if you have any pointers :3

The door to your apartment creaks open and heavy footsteps enter, the jangling sounds of house keys hitting the ceramic bowl reaching your ears with a sigh following.

"Good evening, Jerome." You coo.

"I did not pick that name, quit calling me it." Five huffs as he shrugs off his suit jacket, entering the living room. He looked tired, but he was okay with that. He didn't want to settle for some repetitive job he'd be bored as hell at. Even if they gave him stupid aliases like Jerome.

"You could have at least asked. That's embarrassing, telling people your name is Jerome. What about...Ethan? Or even something that's close to Five. Like, Finn, or something." You answered with a chuckle, while Five crumpled on the couch next to you.

"There isn't any point. It's not like you need to go around calling me that name." He said, taking off his tie and laying it across the arm of the sofa. "Anyway, how was work?" He asked, taking off his brown Oxfords and laying them nearby but out of the main walkway. He reached over to the stack of papers on the coffee table and looked at the first page. "Jesus, this is the sloppiest handwriting I've ever seen."

"Ah yes, because children who still have shitty motor skills are going to be writing in perfect print. That's why they only have to write their names, not write full-fledged essays." You said sarcastically, plucking the piece of paper from his hands. You looked over the assignment your kindergarteners were given. The instructions were to count the different types of bugs on the paper. There were no more than 9 of each bug. 4 butterflies, 7 caterpillars, 1 beetle, 8 spiders.

"I was never that dumb." Five said a little snarkily, pointing to the answer spot that said there were only 5 caterpillars.

"Don't be such a prick." You huffed, getting out a blue pen. You didn't like to use red, too harsh. You circled each answer wrong, not making any corrections.

"How are you even meant to teach them this? It's basic counting." Five asked, sort of actually curious.

"We'll just go over it in class tomorrow. Everyone will count together."

"Then what's the point of the homework?"

You groaned. "We are not having this conversation anymore, old man." You pulled out a pack of stickers, putting one on each sheet of paper.

"You're just as old." He countered with a smirk, leaving you to roll your eyes and continue 'grading' the papers. He did shut up and drop the subject, letting his hand stray to your hand that wasn't busy grading papers. He wasn't ever one for physical affection in the past, but ever since getting to this place? He was more lenient. He was never hanging off of you, but his touches were gentler. Each contact of skin was a small way of saying 'I love you', because it was hard to say it out loud after years of isolation.

The biggest way of him saying he loved you was twisting the ring that nicely fit on your finger like he was doing right now. Like he was making sure you were aware of its presence and meaning.

You finished the papers in less than five minutes. You did not envy the fourth-grade teachers who had actual homework to grade. "Your dinner is in the fridge." You told him, taking his other hand and playing with the black band that adorned his ring finger.

"Not hungry." He said shortly, like he was offended you'd ever assume he wanted to do something aside from this. He wouldn't ever say that out loud, of course.

"It's sushi. Made by yours truly." You added, holding back a chuckle when he sucked in a deep breath, very torn between the options. It was weird, able to sit and think about something. He wasn't rushing home to eat and go to bed, he got to do domestic shit with you and fuck did he love it.

"..." Five stayed silent like a brooding teenager.

"I'll come with you." You reasoned, and he reluctantly sat up. You smiled and got up with him, the two of you traversing to the kitchen. He opened the door to the fridge and grabbed the small Tupperware of delicious looking sushi. You were not a fan of Commission cafeteria food, and you took pride in buying the best ingredients for you and your spouse. You were already grabbing him a pair of chopsticks, sitting with him at the kitchen island.

"...thanks." He said after eating a roll. He was stubborn, but he really did appreciate you taking the time to make more for him when he got home late. It was so nice to come home to a homemade meal. It reminded him of Grace.

"Of course, honey." You smiled, sitting in silence while he ate. He savored every moment. After being in the apocalypse for forty years, he really grew to appreciate the things he didn't have. He swore he would never take this life for granted.

He never questioned why, because the whole reason was sitting right next to him.

[azulhood]

It all started because of a school project, technically two projects, while it wasn't a world ending threat they set of a change reaction that lead to startling discoveries.

Mr Lancer had given the class the task of looking through their pasts and finding an life changing event that helped shape them into the person that were today and writing about that event.

It was a ten page essay (they were allowed to go over that limit) the more details the better and if you had something from that event to show (such as photos or keepsakes or really anything) you were awarded extra credit.

Danny's choice of event was the school field trip to a nearby museum he went on when he was seven, the space exhibit they had was what sparked his love for the stars and kick-started his dreams of being an astronaut.

It wasn't like he had any other choice (he doubted mister Lancer would accept 'my death' as a good life changing event)

He knew that he had photos of the field trip somewhere with all the other photos taken throughout his life, he just had to find them.

And after digging through thousands of boxes and piles of discarded inventions he handled with care (in case they blew up) he found them tucked inside an old photo album covered in green stains that sat on top of a bookshelf.

Opening the book caused all the pictures to fall into his lap, it seems like his parents didn't get around to actually adding them to the book, Danny resigned himself to spending the rest of his day shifting through old photos.

It wasn't all bad though, he found pictures of when Sam still had blonde hair and wore pink and of that time Tucker wrote an 'I love you' on his parents cars with their keys and many other embarrassing photos.

A treasure trove of blackmail material.

He finally found the picture he was looking for.

All of the kids who are now students of Casper high stood in front of an old building each proudly holding up something they bought in the gift shop (Danny had bought a book on planets that had long ago fallen apart)

It was a normal photo.

And yet, something seemed off.

Sam and Tucker were there with him in between them, Dash was there too.

Along with Kwan, Mikey, Paulina, Valerie, and all the others.

And yet, something was missing.

Then it hit him.

Wes wasn't there.

Danny could've sworn that he had been on that trip, but the more he thought about it the less he was sure.

He couldn't actually remember Wes being there and Danny remembered nearly everything about that trip.

'Maybe he was sick or something?' It was the most logical thing he could think of to explain the other absence, that and his parents not wanting him to go for some reason.

Mystery solved he pushed it to the back of his mind , he had an essay to finish.

Still, it stuck with him.

-----------------------------

The next school project Lencer gave them was one with assigned partners.

Danny got Wes who, despite not being Sam or Tucker, was leagues better then Dash and he'd take that as a win.

Wes had insisted on studying at his house so he could, and Danny quotes "Keep an eye on you Fenton"

Danny could practically feel the hidden cameras burning a hole into him while he stood in front of the Weston's door, waiting for him to go ghost for whatever reason.

Jokes on him though, Danny asked all the ghosts to leave him along for this month with the promise of giving them a head start the next time they caused trouble, so really Wes was just wasting his time.

"This way." Wes said already heading inside without caring if Danny followed.

Being the first time he had ever been in Wes's home Danny looked at everything and anything.

It was a fairly normal home, not like Danny's which had an anti-ghost defense system or Sam's super rich house.

But more like Tuckers

One of the things that drew his attention was the pictures that lined the walls.

There were so many.

Some with Wes and his mom, some with just him, some with just his mom, and some with people Danny didn't recognise.

But there were no baby photos.

The only pictures Danny could find of a young Wes seemed to be from when he was eight? Nine?

And nothing before.

'Maybe they were put away in storage' Danny guessed, but it still made his brain itch.

He remembered looking at old school photos and not finding any sign of a young Wes at all, he didn't even remember Wes coming to school any time before the year Danny turned eight.

And in a small town where everyone knew everyone that really wasn't possible.

'Maybe they moved here and lost a lot of stuff' Which would explain a lot, well no harm in asking. "Did you loss a lot when you moved here?"

Wes stopped walking and turned around to give him a look that asked if he was insane. "I've lived here my whole life, Fenton."

Danny froze, that couldn't be right, he'd remember that.

Something was wrong.

---------------------------------

Tim Drake sat in front of the bat computer as the rest of his family patrolled.

He had one monitor displaying the other bats locations while all the other monitors were used to show him files, or rather the lack there of.

Wayne Enterprises had tournaments held for schools and the prize was an all express paid trip to Gotham and tour of WE and surrounding areas, Tim could think of way better prizes that weren't visiting the crime capital of the world but that wasn't the point.

What was the point was that every time there was a winner Tim preformed a routine background check on students and staff (and by routine he means learn their whole live story) just in case anyone happened to be trained assassins set to kill one of them, stranger things have happened.

Wes Weston was one such student whose background Tim had to check.

And he found nothing.

Sure, there were hospital and school documents from age eight and upwards, but other then that nothing.

There was no birth certificate, no evidence of him attending daycare, nothing.

It was as if Wes did not exist before he was eight years old.

And perhaps the most interesting thing.

Amy Weston was listed as Wes's biological mother, DNA even said as much, and yet Amy's medical file said that she had never been pregnant and also had no siblings that could've been Wes's parent.

And yet Wes existed, appearing one day as if he had always been there.

Was it cloning? Aliens? Magic? A changeling? Someone creating false information to hide the truth?

It was a mystery, and mysteries had always been Tim's Kryptonite.

[daenysx]

hi lovely ! i have a request ! i'm a sucker for comforting others so could you do another fic like glossy eyes of a pretty boy but sfw and slightly different? i was thinking maybe james loses a quidditch match and maybe has a panic attack or is just really worked up so rem and siri have to come get us to go calm him down :((( he's my baby i love him so bad !!! and ofc if you don't want to you don't have to !!! ty my lovely ! <3

i hope you enjoy, thank you for requesting, angel <33333

james potter x fem!reader, sfw (they are just kissing through the end but nothing else)

you're trying to focus on what you're writing when sirius appears. his hair is messed up from running, you look at him through curious eyes. "what's wrong?" you ask.

"hey, gorgeous." he says first. he takes a seat next to you and tries to catch his breath. "sorry- i'll tell you in a second."

"do you want some water?" you ask, giggling. he shakes his head. "i'm fine, i'm fine."

"something happened?"

"what's that?" he asks you before answering your question. his finger points the books in front of you.

"i'm trying to finish the potions essay." you say. "it's not going really well."

"um- do you mind taking a break?" sirius asks, his breathing turns into normal each second. "prongs might need your company."

"what happened to him?" you worry. "is he okay?"

sirius tries to fix his hair with useless fingers. "yeah, but- he's a bit upset. the meeting we had for the next match didn't go well, the new ones in team kinda messed with his head, i guess."

"where is he?" you ask him as you start collecting your things. sirius takes your book bag to his shoulder as he leads the way to their room.

you knew james was nervous for the next match, it's against slytherin and most of the time a fight or an argument is inevitable. what's weird is that the argument happening inside the gryffindor team. james hates when something goes wrong in the game because of personal conflicts, he doesn't like mixing things together.

the walk is not long, sirius walks with you until the common room. you can spot remus sitting on the couch as you step in. his arms are crossed, his long legs placed on the small table in front.

"hi, remus." you say when he sees you.

"hi." he says with a remuslike smile. "thanks for coming so fast."

"is he okay?" you ask him. sirius puts your bag on the couch before settling down next to remus.

"he's okay, besides going insane over the match." remus answers. "i've never seen prongs panicking too much, i mean it's just a game right?"

"it's never just a game, beloved moony." sirius shakes his head. "the team is literally being sabotaged by itself, it's worse than losing against slytherin."

"i'm gonna check up on him." you tell them, accepting their brief nods as answer.

you knock on the door before entering. james doesn't reply. when you open the door and take a gentle step inside, he lifts his head. he doesn't say anything until you walk towards him.

"hi, jamie." you say, softly. "can i come in?"

it's normally a stupid question, you already came in. you just don't want to bother james if he wants to be alone. he nods. he's sitting on his messed up bed, his glasses thrown aside just like his tie. his shirt lost a few top buttons, and you can see the red in his pretty eyes when you're this close.

you stand in front of james, almost between his parted legs. he extends a shaky hand to pull you closer. the room reflects his mood, you think, you've never seen it so messy.

james looks at you briefly before putting his head on your belly. his weak arms are wrapped around your hips to keep you, your hands quickly go to his head to let him know it's okay. he can cry if he wants to, or scream, even though he seems like he's lacking the energy for it. he stays there until he breathes right. you rub the tense muscles of his shoulder with your one hand as your other hand strokes his hair.

"thank you for coming." he says with a rough voice. "i know you had work to do."

you cup his cheek to lift his head. your thumb rubs the angry tears on his face until it's dry. "my work isn't more important than you."

"thanks."

you give him a smile. it doesn't reach your eyes but james will understand. "do you wanna talk about it? the boys said a few things about the match but i don't really know what happened."

james shakes his head. "i can tell you later." he says. "i really don't wanna hear anything about the bloody match."

you give him a quick nod. he reaches for your hand.

"can you-" he sniffs. "can we lay down for a minute?"

"of course, baby." you say. "for as long as you want."

you help james put his head on your chest as you find a nice position to cuddle him. your arms around him feel safe, you can't see his face properly but you know he tries to calm down by taking in your familiar scent.

he's so precious, your boy. you like how passionate he is for the things he loves, he pushes himself hard until he is where he wants to be. you know it's stressful, being a solid part of a team and trying to make new people get along. james is the sunshine, he's easygoing and charming, but when he gets upset, it's hard to turn back to his normal self. he needs some time.

you play with his hair until he goes lax in your arms. his pent up energy slowly disappears. he drags his hand to your waist to rub the skin he can reach through your shirt.

you can almost count his eyelashes with this angle. he's gorgeous, even when he's mad. you think this is the real magic. he truly is a magical being, and it has nothing to do with the things he can do with his wand. you like how he's deep in his emotions, all of them, he lives bravely, never backs down from feeling anything. he'll be okay, he can stay here as long as he wants.

the kisses you press on his hair are soothing, you need to lift your head to reach him but it's fine. there are no words, just you and just him.

james sits on bed with slow motions when it becomes bearable. you watch him. "i'm okay." he says. "i'm sorry for worrying you."

"we were worried about you, but it's okay if you feel better." you say to him. he gets as comfortable as he can to settle down on top of your body to give you a good kiss, the kind of kiss that messes with his breathing and quickens his heartbeat. you cup his cheeks, thumbs drawing half moons on his skin. he's so soft now, no hurt feelings left. he closes his eyes to you, his lips conveying every thought he doesn't need to talk about anymore.

"everything will work out with the team." you say when he breaks the kiss. "you only need to be patient, my love. you'll do so well. you'll win the match."

james nods before putting his head on the crook of your neck. "remus is saying the same thing." he tells you. "i know we can beat them and- i only want everyone in team to feel that way."

"i think they already do." you believe what you say. "it must be stressful for everyone."

"yes. probably." james accepts. "we need more time."

"that's right." you agree. "can i bring you something to eat? i think we missed dinner."

"oh." he lifts his head. he was so deep in his sulking, he didn't realize how much time you spent next to him. "i'm sorry, angel. i totally forgot. i'll go get us something to eat."

"i'm not really hungry." you smile. "but food always makes you feel better, so..."

you're teasing and suddenly everything feels normal. james kisses your cheek and leaves his bed. "you always make me feel better." he says, such a romantic, he's down bad. "i'm so lucky to have you."

you blush under his gaze. your fingers try to fix the buttons of his shirt. "come on, potter, i decided i'm starving now. you also need to see sirius and remus, they were worried."

james holds your hand. "let's go then."

[onlyswan]

summary: in which leaving the past behind is not as easy as forgetting, and you want to be everything jungkook wants to know.

idol!jungkook x f!reader, est. relationship / angst, fluff / wc: 7.9k

playlist: strange by celeste / sinking by clairo / manta rays by chloe moriondo / ceilings by beabadoobee / iris (cover) by phoebe bridgers & maggie rogers

content/warnings: [deep breath] no one will know the violence it took to become this gentle / it’s their first winter as a couple / oc’s ex bf slaps oc / jk beats up the ex / blood and bruises / crying :( / mention of cheating (not in our main’s rs we don’t tolerate that in this household :]) / mention of s*x / jimin as both their older brother and friend :(

in which masterlist!

note: greeting 2024 with angst woopsie… i literally ugly sobbed writing a particular scene T_T��� anwww i hope it’s a good read <3 as always reblogs and feedback are appreciated! i’d love to hear your thoughtsss 🥺

—

the word VICTORY flashes across the screen.

with a proud smirk adorning his lips, jungkook pushes down his headphones to hang around his neck.

he rises from his seat, resting his crossed arms over the partition dividing the computer that you’re renting from his.

“hi, baby. are you almost done?”

he chuckles to himself when he realizes that you didn’t hear him, not with the music blasting from your headphones. you direct your attention upwards when endless song by no reply is abruptly put on pause; the cushions of the headphones are pressed up against your cheek by your boyfriend’s doing.

“what?”

“hi, baby. are you almost done?”

“oh, yes…” your focus returns to the screen, fast fingers dancing along the keyboard without an ounce of hesitation weighing on them. “i just… need to… send the file to my email.”

jungkook blinks at the long rows of words you’re masterfully curating, thinking to himself — how the hell do you think and type that fast at the same time?

it was his suggestion to stay at a pc bang tonight so you could be together while you each do your own thing. he spent his half of his day-off playing games, and during that time, you worked on your research paper and finished an essay that isn’t even due for another week. you took a break every hour, munched on some snacks, and cheered him on while he was diligently playing. perhaps he could’ve done something more productive today, but it couldn’t have made him happier.

he holds out the last slice of gimbap in between chopsticks, lightly poking your lips, and his heart flutters when you offer him a sweet smile after welcoming the big bite with some difficulty, cheeks full and nose scrunched.

“is there anything else you want to eat?”

you shake your head, and unable to speak while chewing, you gesture for water as if you’re playing charades.

a kiss is granted to your forehead.

when he comes back with a bottled water, all your tabs have been closed and you’re wearing your white beret again, re-organizing your belongings in your backpack.

“ready to leave?” he inquires as he hands your order.

you hum as a reply, standing from your seat as you swing the backpack over your head to wear it with little to no effort.

jungkook thinks you’re so cool.

you visit the restroom as he settles the bill. when you come out, he’s already pulling out a credit card from his wallet. you decide to head straight for the door then, wait for him outside as the air inside the room has started to feel a little too stuffy after you stepped away from the computer.

you’ve always thought about it— how time stands still when you experience something traumatic, how that moment feels stretched for eternity… how utterly barbaric that is. you’re forced to memorize frames of the origin of your scars, relive it over and over again, eyes closed and open. moments of happiness, on the other hand, are fleeting. they are sand slipping through the gaps of your fingers. getting out of bed is scooping them in your hands and praying that they will hold on to you in the following rotations and revolutions of the earth. they never do.

there he stood at the bottom of the stairs, just as horrified as you.

his face is the last thing you want to see on a winter night.

because you still recall the amalgamation of emotions in his eyes two winters ago. his skin was flushed from the cold, but he turned redder with anger and your stomach coiled in shame.

“juwon?”

the name felt odd in your mouth. it’s like when you eat a food you haven’t had in a long time, and it doesn’t quite taste like you remember it.

and to be honest, you didn’t know what you expected to happen when he carried on to climb the remaining steps that led to you. but it definitely wasn’t… this.

the first hand to carress your bare body, as if it was in disbelief of its existence, and the rings you used to blindly adore— they collide with your cheek with a sound that resonates in your eardrums.

the slap thins out into a ringing noise.

“are you insane?!”

it continues to assault your hearing even as you scream and hit him back.

it ends when someone bumps against your shoulder in a haste, and the next thing you register is juwon lying on the ground with jungkook sitting on top him, balled fist throwing unforgiving punches at your ex-boyfriend’s face. juwon is held hostage by the shock and is unable to reciprocate jungkook’s aggression. he attempts to fight back but your boyfriend dodges easily.

“jungkook! stop, stop, stop!”

you run down the stairs with panic thundering in your chest, nearly in tears as you forcefully grasp at the back of jungkook’s coat to pull him away, but with his strength and the adrenaline flowing through his veins, your efforts prove to be fruitless.

“you fucking bastard! i’m gonna kill you!”

“that’s enough-” you cry out. “please!”

“how dare you lay a hand on my girlfriend like that, huh?!”

he is furious, gripping the collar of juwon’s sweater and slamming him to the ground.

“your girl?” coughing, juwon faces the side to spit out the blood in his mouth, which then shapes into an arrogant smirk. “didn’t you know? ____ was mine first. i was the first!”

the next punch he receives cuts his lower lip open, and a stronger metallic taste assaults his tongue.

“jungkook!”

before jungkook could inflinct more permanent damage, you resort to holding back his arm with both of your hands.

your gazes connect, and your heart drops to your stomach. he is seething with anger. your blood runs cold and a thick haze clouds your thinking. you can’t move your limbs. what do you do? what do you do? what do you do?

“____, let go. i’m not fucking finished with him.”

“please,” you beg, ignorant of the tears that have begun to slide down your cheeks. “that’s enough. look at him!”

“and why should i care?” he spits out as he shrugs you off.

“ah, jungkook! i said that’s enough! why won’t you listen to me?!”

your desperate tantrum falls on deaf ears. you squeeze your eyes shut when he re-assumes his stance, tucks his thumb over his folded fingers, exactly what he taught you about making a proper fist to avoid injuring one’s self when boxing.

“stop it! you’re scaring me!”

that throws a bucket of ice over jungkook’s head. the anger in his eyes is replaced by vacancy, and with that, juwon seizes the opportunity to finally strike him with a jab and escape from underneath him. jungkook finds himself pushed aside on the ground with a throbbing cheek, mostly likely to be noticeably bruised in the next hours.

“love-” you gasp, and you rush over to him but your path gets rudely obstructed by your ex.

“is this the guy you cheated on me with?”

he is extremely near that you can feel him panting on your face. two years later, your stomach coils in disgust. your glare is venomous, and if only looks could kill, if only looks could kill…

“just leave, won’t you? what’s the point of all this?” you roughly push him away with your remaining shred of energy, driven by exhaustion and frustration. “it was so long ago! get a fucking grip!”

he huffs in disbelief as he wipes the blood from the corner of his mouth. it also drips from his nose and eyebrow. strange enough, you do not feel guilt nor compassion for this man. not anymore.

“are you seriously crying just because he got punched one time…? isn’t that a little unfair? you loved me too. once.” he snickers, but he is visibly pissed off. he can no longer look at you in the eye. “shit, is he that much of a better fuck than me?”

your skin crawls. bile creeps up your throat. technically speaking, this is the consequence of your own actions, but you can’t help but to be resentful.

“you are…” your voice trembles, but your glare remains unwavering. “still as despicable and shallow as ever… and i don’t regret what i did.”

and it may have been a long time ago, but you still know how to hit him where it hurts the most— his ego.

you purposely bump against his shoulder as you make your way to jungkook, leaving him speechless as he stares at the ground. the night the two of you broke up, you were crying and begging him for forgiveness… what the fuck happened?

“let’s go home.” you demand quietly while refusing to meet jungkook’s stare— a mix of confusion, offense, and rage.

but the thing about juwon? he always needs to have the last word.

“you better keep a close eye. you might think you know ____, but whores never change. especially those who became one so young.”

“dude, how are you still speaking?!”

it’s too late when you realize that jungkook has left your side. he swings at juwon’s face with a force that sends the man stumbling backwards. he completely loses balance then collapses on the ground with a curse that almost misses your ears.

“don’t ever go near ____ again! don’t even think of it! if you show your face to me again, i might really end up fucking killing you. you hear me?!”

—

jungkook doesn’t recall a time when he felt a rage this intense and consuming. witnessing you get slapped, his vision went dark and he was shaking with fury. everything was a blur after that, but he knew one thing: this man violated the most precious person to him, and he won’t allow him to get away with that unscathed.

and that must be why he feels restless until now. neither one of you has dared to utter a word for the past couple of minutes. he can’t see your face as you’re walking ahead of him, leading the way with his wrist in your cold hand. however, he can hear your sniffles, and he can see you wiping your tears dry with the back of your hand. he thought he has experienced heartbreak, but this pain cuts deeper than anything he has ever felt.

“baby, let’s go back.”

he breaks the silence, standing infront of you to stop you on your tracks. he almost reeks of desperation as he intertwines your fingers together.

“please? there should be a cctv camera infront. we can sue him.”

“are you even hearing yourself? you’ll also get into trouble!”

his insistence only fuels the urge to cry and scream and break things. it’s an understatement to say that you’re ashamed. it was foolish of you, really, to assume that leaving the past behind would be as easy as forgetting. it may be out of sight but it is everywhere, and it sneaks up on you without tell and mercy.

“you attacked him out of nowhere! he can sue you for that too!”

“out of nowhere?” he repeats your words slowly, hurt flashing across his face. “i was protecting you, ____! who knows what else he could’ve done? and the shit he was talking about you? was i just supposed to stand there and do nothing?”

“and i’m protecting you too! why did you even have to punch him again?! he was obviously just trying to provoke you! god, i-” you release the air in your lungs you didn’t realize you’ve been holding. “thank god he didn’t see your face.”

that struck a nerve for some reason. he harshly rips off the mask that has been concealing half of his face all along.

“he hit you! look- fuck, you’re bleeding-”

oh, his rings must’ve grazed you.

jungkook brings out a clean white handkerchief from the backpocket of his pants, pressing it softly against your cheek. the sharp sting forces you to grit your teeth. it’s not only the wound… your skin is still warm and tender from the assault. you’re terrified to look at the mirror. you don’t want to feel sorry for yourself.

“and that’s what you’re really worried about right now?”

“okay, then i’m sorry for caring about my boyfriend and his career! i’m sorry, okay?!“

he dies a little inside when you harshly push his hand aside.

so this is what it feels like to be at the other end of your anger… shitty. it feels really shitty. after what happened, there is no sadness or fear. the twinkle in your eyes have been replaced with sharp daggers and it is gutwrenching to watch. it clicks for him then: you weren’t scared of him. you were scared for him.

he doesn’t allow you to go further than ten feet away. he seizes your arm before sneaking his hand on your waist to tug you closer to his body.

“you think i’m letting you out of my sight again? it’s not happening!”

you click your tongue in exasperation, left with no choice but to admit defeat as he hails the approaching taxi. you cover your face to hide from the blinding headlights.

ever the gentleman, jungkook opens the door for you.

“get in, ____.”

and the first thought that enters your mind: the air freshener is nauseating. it has to be something mixed with lemon.

you roll the window down as your boyfriend dictates the address of your destination to the taxi driver. not yours, but his. you send him an unimpressed scowl, but he only looks back at you challengingly under the warm dim light. the soft cloth is placed over your wound again, rudely snatched as you turn away from him. you hold it on your own as you watch the world outside the window, streetlamps with blurry light streaks and homes you will never set foot into. in the midst of your musing, you register the weight on your head, or its lack thereof. your beret landed on the ground in the aftermath of the first strike. what is there left to lose?

you thought you could be happy at last, but beside you is another soul you’ve stained with your bloody hands.

juwon was right, you never change.

—

“i still don’t think it’s right that i know the password.” you whisper as you push the door open.

“but i have a key to your house. what’s the difference?”

“i don’t know…” you begin removing your boots, carefully placing each one in the middle level of the shoe rack. “you live with six other people.”

“namjoon-hyung and yoongi-hyung are in their studios. the others went home.”

you enter the living room with jungkook hugging you from behind. his cheek rests on top of your shoulder, and he doesn’t want to let you go. the ride here was suffocating. he thought you wouldn’t talk to him for the rest of the night anymore.

you blink at jimin who is sprawled out on the sofa, a gray blanket that matches his sweatpants is covering his naked torso.

“why does he sleep here? doesn’t he have a bed?”

“the sofa is more comfortable.” he mumbles loud enough for you to hear as he opens his eyes halfway, but then he gives up and closes them again, curling in on himself to resume his slumber.

“okay… now i know what to get you for your birthday.”

for a brief second jungkook assumes that you’re joking, but you sounded way too nonchalant.

“a sofa?”

“a new mattress,” you blankly stare back at him, before proceeding to break free from his embrace to search for the bathroom.

he follows you like a lost puppy, whining. “why does he already have a birthday gift and i don’t?!”

“quiet!”

he winces. “sorry, hyung!”

—

you’re perched in the space between jungkook’s thighs, legs swung over one of them as he tenderly presses a cold compress against your left cheek. you’ve changed into the pair of pink cooky pajamas he wore a few times and has kept in his closet specially for you. sinking into his mattress, drowsiness has also begun to seep into the depths of your bones. it’s been an arduous week, and you’re exhausted of fighting in every sense of the word.

“he deserves more than what he got away with.” he mutters through gritted teeth.

“jungkook, enough.” you chide at him with a sigh. “let’s just forget about this.”

“your face is going to be bruised for atleast a week! how am i supposed to ‘just forget’? are you hearing yourself?”

your rhetoric question from earlier comes back to gnaw at your thread-like sanity. you feel backed into a corner. you can’t think of a solution that will put this issue at rest, much less make either one of you feel better.

“he’s not worth it.”

“you are to me.” he declares.

it’s impossible to argue with that. you want it to stay true. you want him to keep believing in you.

“i’m tired.” you whisper, removing yourself from his lap. “let’s go to sleep.”

he gazes at you with longing.

you are lying on his bed but you have never felt so far away.

“are we really not going to talk about this?”

“not now. i’m tired, jungkook.”

“baby…”

“juwon is a terrible person, but i had it coming…” you mumble. “that’s all there is to it.”

foreboding silence falls upon the bedroom. you can’t bring yourself to look at jungkook, so you close your eyes and pray that when the sun rises, this night will simply turn out to be a nightmare orchestrated by your wicked mind.

“whatever that is, it doesn’t warrant what he did.” he plants a gentle kiss on your forehead, and it takes everything in you not to fall apart into a thousand shards. “and i’m sorry that i couldn’t stop it from happening.”

—

jungkook returns after his shower, not yet done with drying his dripping hair with a towel. you’ve drifted off to sleep in the time that he was gone, lips slightly parted open as you breathe out puffs of air in a steady rhythm. your hair is a halo and you’re an angel snoozing on a cloud.

he heard it loud and clear, and you haven’t denied it either, but there’s not a part of him that believes it. is he blindly in love with you? is this what he was warning him about? are you not an angel, but a siren?

wary of waking you up, he attaches a bandaid to your cheek. he flicks the lightswitch but he turns on the night lamp so you won’t have to manuever the dark incase you wake up in the middle of the night in need of the bathroom.

shit, shit, shit. he curses in his head when you begin shuffling as soon as he settles himself on the bed, but it’s just you unknowingly seeking for warmth in your sleep. he gathers you in his arms and your pillow is abandoned in favor of his naked chest. it always feels fitting, like his heart is the stuffed toy that you can’t go without at night.

he swallows the lump in his throat, brushing your hair away from your face to gently caress your soft skin. you look so serene. but your ex’s fingers can be traced on the red bruise that has tainted your cheek and his jaw clenches, hand momentarily balling into a fist to release the leftover anger still boiling in his blood. everyday, you feel the need to act tough because of people like him, and you are… but deep down, he knows, that you just crave to be loved.

“you loved me too. once.”

however, that has lost its meaning when juwon didn’t love you the way you deserved to be loved.

and jungkook admits it’s not as easy for him to do in a whole different dimension. he leads a kind of life not everyone survives, but that never stopped him for trying his damn hardest.

—

you’re awoken in the middle of the night by jungkook’s forehead accidentally knocking against yours. his snoring doesn’t cease, however, and you had to remind yourself that this is the same boy who continued sleeping despite rolling off his inflated sleeping bag on camera.

you slowly sit up as you rub the sleep from your eyes. you spend an unknown amount of time spaced out, barely blinking. afterwards, you force yourself to leave the comfort of the bed, taking the cold compress along with you. you drain the melted ice over the kitchen sink before opening the refrigerator to refill it with ice cubes. you can’t help but to allow your eyes to wander around, which then leads you to contemplate on whether to cook ramen or not… but then again, it’s already 3am and most likely, you won’t be able to sleep again if you do.

“yah! why are doing just standing there?”

the deep voice echoes throughout the kitchen. you yelp in shock, nearly dropping the ice bag as you tap on your pounding chest.

“i told you to stop doing that!”

jimin bursts into a fit of too delighted giggles, hunched over the kitchen counter as he places a hand over his belly. he’s fully clothed this time, fresh from the shower, judging from his hair.

“it’s not funny!” you whine. “one of these days i might be holding a knife when you do that!”

“ey, what would you be holding a knife for? jungkook never lets you lift a finger while you’re here.”

that’s just because he knows you’re not very talented in the kitchen.

the wide smile on his face then fades, expression morphing into one of concern as he studies your face bathed by the refrigerator light.

“what happened to your face?”

fuck, you’ve completely forgotten about that.

“it’s a long story.” you sigh, closing the refrigerator.

“it’s alright. i have all the time in the world to listen.”

“you know that i really appreciate that and i’m grateful but…” your smile borders on a wince. “no, you don’t. get some more sleep, please.”

your unexpected response causes jimin to scratch his head shyly. the two of you stare at each other for a few seconds before laughing at the same time.

“oh, that’s right!” you pause on your tracks when an essential item pops in your mind. “do you have healing ointment? for cuts and bruises and stuff?”

“it’s for jungkook,” you add.

“doesn’t he have that?”

“it’s not here,”

your sweet smile tells jimin everything he needs to know.

“ah, that kid really comes home to different houses now. he’s all grown up.”

“…and how many exactly?” you arch an eyebrow.

he purses his lips together, jokingly pretending to think hard. “the dorm… and then his family… then there’s you?”

“anywhere else?”

“nope!”

“sooo, do you have it or not?”

“i’ll go downstairs and buy it right now.”

he offers you a kind smile and pats on the head. a protest dies down in your throat as he goes straight for the front door.

“thank you!”

“you’re welcome!”

—

despite your active efforts to avoid making any sort of noise, the door produces a small ‘click’ as you cautiously close it behind you. you discover that jungkook has flipped over to face your side, his arm outstretched as if he was reaching out for you. you almost feel bad for leaving him alone in bed, so you sit next to him, positioned on the lower half of the bed since he took up your space.

a short snore escapes him, one that rises then falls so abruptly, like a note on the piano pressed on accident. you cover your mouth to muffle your giggle.

how adorable. you have grown to tolerate, and even adore, his snoring.

stolen kisses on his bruised knuckles, tiny and featherlight, apologetic most of all. their bad condition brought upon by boxing worsened when he used his dominant hand bare, knuckles of his two longest fingers ripped. it seems that he did the bare minimum by putting a stop to the bleeding then washing them clean, then nothing else. he didn’t even tell you, didn’t complain or show any sign that he was in pain.

you hold the cold compress over his bruises, switching between his cheek and knuckles, mindful of not touching the wounds as to not aggravate him in his sleep.

you’ve been stripped down bare— your pride and dignity dismantled into pieces that create a picture of you that you do not like… but could be the love and sincerity in your heart be enough to live by? even if no one is awake to witness it?

you’re saved from drowning in your thoughts by the front door being unlocked. for the second time, you tiptoe your way out of jungkook’s bedroom.

“this is for wounds, and then…” jimin returns the tube inside the paper bag to grab the other. “this one, for bruises.”

“thank you. i’ll pay you back.”

“yah!” jimin expands his eyes threateningly, which you mimic in challenge as you hug the paper bag to your chest. “i’m also your older brother, okay? i should do these things for you.”

you scrunch your nose, to express disagreement at first, but later on it only makes your smile appear brighter.

“doesn’t it hurt you to smile? please use them well too, ____. do you understand? that’s why i bought the biggest ones!”

it does hurt.

“thank you…” you reply shyly.

you’ve forgotten how it feels like to be taken care of by family.

—

“baby, where did you go?”

jungkook’s raspy voice is music to your ears.

he woke up a mere minute ago, caught in the middle of sitting up on the bed once it caught up to his sleep-muddled brain that you’re no longer beside him.

“nowhere,”

you sit at the edge of the bed without another word, putting his hands over your lap to apply the healing cream to his afflictions.

his eyelids flutter in sleepiness as he watches your every movement.

a small dollop at the pad of your finger, transferred over his torn knuckle and smeared with the lightest of touch. occasionally your finger pauses, unsure, calculating— the last thing it wants is to hurt him.

he kisses your lips— he feels suspended in time—hasn’t quite reconnected with reality and with his body. wide-eyed, you seem taken aback by the display of affection. his mouth then softly curves with fondness.

“i love you.”

“i love you, too.” you whisper timidly.

your actions have become hurried, but jungkook is far too drowsy to notice your discomfort.

for the final part, you rub the cream on the bruise on his cheek. you press a kiss on the corner of his lips. “all done. go back to sleep.”

“let’s go,”

he hooks his arm under your knees, eager to carry you over to your side of the bed, but he gets interrupted by your protest.

“wait, wait, wait- i need to pee first.”

“wha- hurry!” he complains with a peeved frown, which you fail to catch a glimpse of because he has squeezed you taut against his body. “i won’t be able to sleep without you here.”

—

eternally cursed with the ability to feel too much of everything.

you push your back against the bathroom door, breathing heavy and labored as you blindly pat around for its lock. the click serves as the cue for your salty tears to drip from the edges of your eyelashes, cascading down, down, down your chin. some of them crash on the collar of your pajama top, the rest on the white tiled floor. this room is a stranger to your shipwreck, but old habits die hard.

the intense pressure of the water collides with the porcelain sink. rain and thunder and the gusts of wind being your gasps for air. an isolated storm undetected in the city of seoul you’re forced to brave alone, on the floor, tucked into yourself to protect the beating sacredness inside your ribcage. the sobs claw their way up your throat rather than soaring like exhales do.

no one has ever raised their hand at you. not even your parents. not even when you broke your grandmother’s precious china, or lost their big paper bills to the wind, or cursed at them for embarrassing you infront of your friends.

you want to be mad and say that juwon deserved what he got. you want to say that you hope his nose is broken. but you don’t know how one is supposed to react when something like that happens. you don’t know if it justifies everything after that. if the roles were reversed and you slapped him, won’t no one bat an eye?

…and you know jungkook has questions you still haven’t figured out how to answer. you know he now has reasons to doubt you. you know in his eyes, you may now be a hypocrite and not the advocate he adored. these days, you don’t really want to be seen as anything less or more than who you are, but you so desperately wish to be someone he is proud to love.

you feel mocked for even daring to dream of it.

“i’m tired, i’m tired, i’m tired.”

incoherent mumbles further stirs the unbridled chaos.

“i’m so sick of this. why… why do bad things keep happening to me?”

you don’t expect an answer but you yearn for some sort of meaning. you don’t mind suffering but you wish it could only be to an extent where you don’t have to fear.

echoes of rumbles and thunder. you’re nearer the sky but farther from heaven.

—

it’s been more than a week. you’ve been waking up with a gaping hole in the middle of your torso. you climb out of bed, cover up your cheek with make-up, good as new, and go about your day as if nothing happened. life on its own is already too much of a burden for you.

jungkook checks up on you everyday, though, despite his busy schedule. mostly through the phone, and whenever he can, he goes straight to where you are after work to dote on you no matter the time. he kisses you on the cheek, claims himself to have healing properties, and says i love you. and during those periods of time you were together, he hasn’t said another word about the incident. and it has been driving you absolutely insane.

you glance down at him, sat on the floor with an ipad balanced on top of his propped up knees, wearing one of your anti-radiation glasses as he finds himself absorbed in drawing the view a foot away from him. you.

“why do you keep looking at me?” he scolds you lightheartedly. “go back to studying so we can go to sleep.”

“can’t help it,” you mumble as you reposition your pen over the paper. you’ve been reorganizing your notes the whole night for your upcoming tests, but your mind keeps flying everywhere else. “my boyfriend’s too pretty.”

“ah, it can’t be helped then. sorry about that.” he smirks cockily, pulling the dramatics by switching his eyes between you and his back. “should… should i turn around then?”

“did you box again?”

the accusation is spat out before you can think twice.

“oh, you did. your knuckles are all messed up again.”

he pouts, crossing his legs. “but baby, i have to train... i wrapped my hands properly!”

“still,” you sigh. “can’t you just let them heal for a little while?”

you turn to the cabinet on your other side to bring out the pouch of healing ointments you’re now suspecting he brought and didn’t accidentally leave behind.

you lay out your hand, and jungkook puts his on top of yours, dragging himself close.

you both smile when you see that he has laid his hands over your thighs like he’s getting a manicure. silly boy. you pull them closer by his fingers so you can reach his red knuckles.

“why are you trying so hard?”

your finger is stained with his blood. your voice is as gentle as your touches, and that’s why it hurts.

jungkook doesn’t know either. he’s been trying to extinguish his leftover anger and bitterness through work and boxing— suppressing the onslaught of negative thoughts threatening to poison what the two of you have. jungkook doesn’t want to know. he doesn’t want anything to change. right now, he can’t afford them to.

“there’s no one to fight.”

“turns out there is,” he argues.

he regrets it as soon as your hand trembles.

“it’s okay… to ask. we’re in a relationship. you’re entitled to know things like that.” your eyes are unafraid again, and it scares him, like you’re always prepared to let him go. “i won’t get offended, or anything like that. if that’s what you’re worried about.”

“i trust you,” he says simply. “so i don’t need to know. especially if talking about it makes you uncomfortable. it’s okay… we’re okay, baby.”

stillness washes over the room like a tide that swallows everything up, and for a moment jungkook is convinced that the two of you will never bring it up again.

but the words you utter next are a punch to the gut.

they almost sound like a plead.

“but i can’t live my life that way, jungkook.”

strands of your hair descend to your face, framing it perfectly, but your eyes become hidden from view. you rip a bandaid open and blanket it over his two knuckles, still wounded as before, if not worse.

“if you intend to be with me for a long time, then i need you to need to know…” because there will be things i’d want to tell you, but wouldn’t feel the need to.

“then tell me,” he replies, prompted by a renewed determination. “i don’t just intend to be with you for a long time. i want way more than that.”

—

jungkook fiddles with the hello kitty bandaid using his thumb, mind reeling and grappling to process the overload of information told by your storytelling voice. all of a sudden, he’s grateful that you decided to lie down on the bed for this conversation.

“juwon was your boyfriend before me, no?”

“no, no, no. he was…” your lips part as if you have something more left to say, but you eventually give up. “yup, no.”

“so you found out that he’s been cheating on you for-for two mo-”

“three-”

“three months, and you…” he blinks. “slept with a stranger and let him catch you?”

“i was really petty. i was seventeen after all… my pride couldn’t take it. my friends- they tried to stop me but… but all i could think of was how to make him feel the way i was feeling.” your voice sounds small, smaller as you squeeze yourself into his side and curl up to hide your face. “so i let him think i was the bad guy.”

he understands that you were vengeful, but he doesn’t know if you comprehend the scale of what you have done.

“he looked so sad and hurt that i started to feel guilty. i don’t know if i was still acting when i was apologizing to him.” you scoff with eyebrows knitted together. “i felt so dirty… i still feel like a bad person, you know?”

you took the face of juwon’s demons and he didn’t like what he saw.

“i had it coming,” — he now has a grasp of what you meant before.

“so how has he been doing this to me for such a long time? how does he stomach it? knowing what i was going through? that’s what i thought… it makes me so upset…”

jungkook doesn’t try to assess you as you speak. he only listens, until your voice cracks. his heart is split into two as tears flood your eyes, escaping past the corners and slipping down to soak the fabric of his t-shirt.

you sniffle. “and the sex wasn’t even that great. i regret it even more.”

he flinches, abruptly squeezing his eyes shut. not that great? okay… okay. the mental image of you being physically intimate with someone that isn’t him definitely doesn’t sicken him to his core. at all. nope, nope, nope.

“fuck, baby, please,” he groans as if he is in pain, putting an arm over his eyes. “hearing about you have sex with other guys is making me want to punch something again. fuck.”

“that’s what you took away from the story?”

“yes!” he exclaims with conviction. “we should’ve met a year earlier. i would’ve let you use me!”

you gasp, scandalized. “oh my god! jungkook!”

“argh-” he animatedly clutches at his chest that caught your fist.

“you’re crazy!”

“uhuh, about you.” he proudly replies, pulling you closer to his side, as if that was still possible.

the subtle upwards of the corners of your lips gives him a sense of relief. he tenderly cups your cheek, his thumb ghosting over the bruise that has turned a darker shade of blue and purple.

“listen to me, i- i’m not here to tell you what’s right or wrong. i’m not that type of person. but what i can do tell you is that this…” he briefly shakes his head. “didn’t change the way i see you at all. he hurt you. he cheated and you were hurt, ____.”

your eyes gleam with uncertainty, a fresh wave of tears threatening to escape. “are you sure?”

“of course i am. why wouldn’t i be sure?”

“because you’re crazy about me.”

the sweet innocence of your eyelashes fluttering elicits a chuckle from him. you’re so fucking cute.

“that’s the reason i’m sure.” he tilts up your chin to plant a kiss to your lips, mumbling. “i’ve never been wrong about anything i’m crazy about.”

“thank you,” you say quietly, melting into his embrace. you nuzzle your face against his chest, and at last, you grant your eyes rest. “i can finally sleep peacefully again.”

fuck, it’s been weighing on you this whole time and he didn’t know.

“i’m sorry i only dated assholes before you.”

“aish, why would you be sorry about such a thing?” he kisses the top of your head, gentleness contradicting his following sentence. “i’d crush each one of those assholes for you.”

and he’d beat himself up the worst if he ever becomes one of them.

you yawn, sniffling right after. “mhm, i bet you will.”

he carefully rolls over to the side so he can wrap both arms around you, and you keen in contentment.

“jungkook?”

“yes, baby?” he coos.

“i… really… love you so, so, so much. you are… the one person i’d die for before i hurt.”

goddammit, it’s an angel sleeping in his arms.

“that’s a relief to hear. you’re very smart and scary when you’re mad.”

“eh, jungkook! i swear i’ve grown up! i’m not like that anymore!”

“okay, okay!” he laughs at your childish whining and squirming as he ushers you back in his embrace. “i believe you! i trust you! i love you too!”

—

although you spend more nights together in your apartment for your safety and convenience, in all honesty, you like staying over at jungkook’s more. his smell evokes the sentiment of home, and when you stay long enough, it becomes a temporary part of you. you’re gradually more well-versed in the organized and unorganized corners of his room. you like that you know where he keeps the safety pins and you know to be careful when walking so you won’t trip over his dumbbells he leaves lying around. and it’s a little ridiculous but… you like that his mattress is on the floor and you don’t really know why.

your boyfriend is still blissfully asleep as you climb over him, landing on the floor without a sound like a veteran spy. however, you rush to step out of the room before the rumbling of your empty stomach could wake him up.

“yah, thief! what do you think you’re doing?!”

“fuck!” the pack of ramen hits the floor when your hands fly to your chest to clutch at your painfully pounding heart. “i swear to god, you’re going to kill me one day!”

and unsurprisingly, your chagrin is countered yet again with jimin’s all too pleased laughter.

“____, you look so suspicious! why are you using a flashlight? we have electricity! we can pay for it!”

“i don’t like it too bright, okay?” you grumble as you pick up your supposed midnight meal.

“let’s just turn on this one then.”

“uh-” the objection dies down in your throat when the light over the dining table was switched on.

“i’m hungry, too. grab two more packs of ramyeon, please.”

“who’s the other one for?”

jimin fills the pot with water from the sink while you pick up two more of the same pack from the pantry.

“just us. don’t you agree that one pack is too small for one person?”

“it’s just enough for me though?” you rip open the packs one by one to retrieve the packets of seasonings. “with your job, though, i’d definitely have a bigger appetite.”

“alright,” he pouts, pretending to be upset. “let’s have just two then.”

“no, no, no-” you chase his hand, tightly gripping the last pack that he stole. “let’s have three! let’s have three! i didn’t eat dinner!”

—

“my mom brought a lot of kimchi yesterday. there’s an entire box in the fridge. i’ll pack you some before you leave later.”

“put some more in,” you say cutely as you peer down at the pot of ramen beside jimin. “please?”

he chuckles, adhering to your request before handing the container to you.

“thank you!”

you hop on the counter infront of the stove, chewing on a mouthful of kimchi with a joy akin to a child receiving a sweet treat. leaving the ramen to cook for the next five minutes, jimin sits a few feet away.

“aigoo, are you that hungry?”

“this is so delicious!” you praise his mother’s cooking instead of answering the question. “i can really eat this on its own.”

“ey, don’t fill yourself up yet! we have a lot of ramyeon to eat!”

“sorry, sorry!”

your giggles fill the apartment with warmth during this freezing winter. jimin didn’t doubt it when jungkook said that you light up every room you enter, he just didn’t expect that he would also gain a friend.

“how’s your cheek?”

“as you can see,” you motion at your face. “yellow. soooo… uglier.”

“that means it’s healing well.”

“i know,” the apples of your cheek become plump as your lips curve. “it no longer hurts to smile.”

“that’s a relief to hear,” he returns your kind smile. “jungkook has been worried about you.”

that’s the end of what he can tell you. jungkook won’t be pleased if you learn that he cried when he talked about the horrible thing that happened to you.

“thank you,”

“huh? for what?”

“being jungkook’s happiness.”

from his peripheral vision, he perceives your surprise. however, he is too flustered to meet your eyes while he is speaking from the bottom of his heart.

“the past year was physically and mentally draining for the team. as you know, we… we were considering giving up and disbanding. and of course it’s hard on all of us, but i’m really, really worried about jungkook. but!”

he chuckles at the dramatic rise of his own voice.

“i’m less worried now that you’re in his life. and i’m not saying this to put pressure on you or anything! but you see, when he’s tired, he bounces back quickly because of you. he’s smiling more because of you. and i know it goes it also goes the other way around. mhmm… i-i guess what i’m saying is that i hope you can continue being each other’s strength? be each other’s cheerleader?”

you have begun to feel emotional as you listened to his sincere and heartwarming words, but you can’t help but to cackle at the fact that you just witnessed the park jimin say the word ‘cheerleader’ while daintily waving his hands around as they were holding pompoms. how awfully endearing.

“…or something like that.”

uncontrollable giggles vibrate his body, dramatically slipping down the counter and onto the tiled floor to enshroud himself in extreme sheepishness.

“ah, ____! this is driving me crazy! don’t laugh!”

“what are you doing lying on the floor?” you playfully scold him, recording with your phone in secret. “why do i suddenly feel like the older one?”

“what’s with the noise?”

you whip your head around, wide curious eyes greeted with a shirtless jungkook who is still rubbing the sleep from his eyes.

“is that ramyeon…? i want some too.”

jimin groans when he feels your foot poke him lightly.

“mister, can we add more? my googie is hungry too.”

—

“hyung, ____ told me something recently that really put a lot of things into perspective.”

and with that, jimin pours another bottle of beer in his and jungkook’s ice-filled mugs. “let me hear it.”

“if you intend to be with me for a long time, then i need you to need to know. at first i didn’t understand what it meant? then after we talked, something clicked for me. ahhh, i see it now. ____ didn’t want us to trust each other blindly… because that… that isn’t a good… foundation? for something that i want to last for a very long time. you, me, the members… don’t we all trust each other because we know that we’re good people to our core and we’re good at what we do? isn’t that why we have come this far, and why we keep going? besides army, of course!”

jimin blinks lazily, glossy eyes from the alcohol underneath it all. “that’s right. we wouldn’t have started this anyway… without that kind of trust. i don’t think it’s a connection you can just build with anyone too.”

“oh, that’s it. that’s right!”

“living together for a long time doesn’t guarantee it.”

“exactly.” jungkook nods repeatedly, probably too passionately, a guaranteed ticket for a hangover later on. “we talked about that last time too.”

“right? so we should protect it… maintain it… never lose sight of our purpose…”

the lack of words that follow does not equate to silence. glasses clink against each other and teeth rip bags of chips open and noodles are slurped. they’re overseas and they can’t go to a korean restaurant and grill their own meat. the hotel steak would take forever to arrive and quite frankly, they had it yesterday and it was not good. this is not exactly ideal, but it has its own charm.

jungkook takes another swig of the bittersweet alcohol, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand afterwards.

“____ has become an important part of my life that i would do anything to protect too. how do i say it…?” he exhales to relieve the heavy weight on his chest. “i feel like i gained more purpose in life, hyung… to be honest, i might have a harder time because of that. i know it but… i’m happy. seriously, i’m happy.”

—

taglist in the reblogs! send an ask/dm if you want to be added (or removed) :D

—

[moonstruckme]

hi mae! i’m not sure if you’ve done this already but i was wondering you could write james x slytherin reader where she heard some things being said about her and was feeling angsty but james was there to comfort her! btw, i love your writing! <3

Thank you lovely!

cw: academic competition (plus some anxiety), reader is a bit mean to be honest which isn't me trying to shit on slytherins it's just how it came out

James Potter x slytherin!reader ♡ 750 words

There’s something wrong with you. James has been thwacking his wand against his book relentlessly for the past thirty minutes, and you’ve not done so much as cut a look his way. And he knows the jumper he gave you when you shivered is your least favorite (that, he would’ve avoided if all his others didn’t need to be washed), but you haven’t complained even once about how the knit itches against your skin. You’re only laid placidly on your stomach next to him on the bed, scribbling away at your notes with a familiar dent between your brows that seems yet deeper than usual. 

“Hey.” James bumps your shoulder with his lightly. “Have you started Slughorn’s essay?” 

“Mhm,” you hum distractedly. “Finished last night.” 

He grins. “Course you have. Any insights into what he meant by the second question? The wording’s stumped me.” 

You don’t even sigh reluctantly as you lean over to look at his parchment. James’ concern for you worsens. 

“I think he means that he wants us to theorize about a potential mixture by using our knowledge about existing ones.” 

“Ahh, I see.” James thought the same thing, but it never hurt anyone to get a second opinion, especially if that second opinion seemed to need cheering and thrived off academic validation. He plants a smacking kiss on your cheek. “Thanks, lovie.” 

“That’s just how I interpreted it,” you add. “I’m not certain.” 

“Yeah, okay.” James abandons his reading and rolls onto his side. “What’s going on with you?” 

“I’m just trying to do my homework, James,” you say tiredly, going back to your own parchment. 

“No,” he says certainly, “something’s wrong. You’ve just second-guessed your answer.” 

“And what? Just because I’m not positive means something has to be wrong?” You give him a sideways look, the first hint of annoyance he’s had from you all afternoon. It tells him he’s on the right track. 

“Something like that.” James reaches up to your temple, playing with your hair in the way you pretend to hate but secretly love. “Also, you were fine this morning but ever since you got back from class you’ve seemed down.” 

You harumph, as good as an admission. 

“Don’t hold out on me,” he coaxes. “Something happened during class, yeah?” 

You pretend to be reading something on your paper, not looking at your boyfriend. “Nothing important. Collins called me stuck up, but I hardly give a shit what she thinks.” 

James feels his eyebrows rise. “Siobhan said that?” 

You grunt in affirmation. 

“During class?”

“Well, she hardly waited ‘til we were in private.” 

He strokes down some of your baby hairs thoughtfully. “Sweetheart, do you remember last week in class when Siobhan tried to answer a question in Astronomy?” 

You scoff. “Yeah, she thought Jupiter had sixty five moons. What a dunce.” 

“Right. And you told her that to her face, remember?” 

“What’s your point, James?” 

“I’m just thinking,” he says carefully, “that Siobhan might’ve taken offense to that. And, perhaps, she may have wanted to try to embarrass you like you embarrassed her.” 

Your hair falls away from James’ fingers as you sit up, irate. “Well, that’s stupid,” you say. “I called her a dunce for missing an easy question, and she called me stuck up just because I did better on the Herbology quiz than her.” 

“Sounds like she’s jealous,” he agrees. “But I mean, it’s hardly your fault. You’re smart.” 

“I know!” James has to smother a grin at the return of his normal, confident girl. You cross your arms over your chest, huffy. “And I don’t even rub it in everyone’s faces all of the time, which I could.” 

“Best to let it lie, sweetheart.” He sits up to give you a kiss, pleased when you relax under his touch. “The poor girl’s already down in the dumps. Don’t let her get to you.” 

“You’re right,” you say, and now James can’t keep his grin at bay. That’s not something he gets to hear often. “Don’t look at me like that,” you snipe. “I’m just saying, she’s probably suffering enough. It would be difficult to be that dense.” 

James laughs. He plants another kiss on your lips, making you scowl. “That’s my girl.” 

[ivysangel]

READ BETWEEN THE LINES (JASON TODD)

NOTES/CW - continuation of this post, literally just straight up porn, fem!reader, unprotected sex, p in v, creampie, -17 dni, my first time writing smut in this format so plz be nice this shit is NOT for the weak !!! (1.7k)

It's about an hour before Jason caps the highlighter in his hand, having skimmed over the entire book in record time, picking out five or six quotes that would boost your essay into A territory. Except, you weren't concerned about the essay or what grade you got. Yeah, sure, when you had first invited him over, it was genuinely because you needed feedback, but now you have the feedback

"It's written well, only problem is that you need better quotes."

You remember his words as clear as day because they're the reason why Jason had been occupied with your assignment and not the ache between your legs. Now that his perusal of quotes was over, finished, done, and the book was closed, you could finally get relief from something other than your thighs being squeezed together so tight the blood flow was being cut off from your lower extremities.

He carefully cleans up the area, stacking papers strewn across the table and putting pens away. It may have seemed like he was just tidying the table, but you knew that he was messing with you. Typically, you wouldn't give in so easily, but your body was getting hotter by the second, and there was a thin sheen of sweat forming on your back.

God, it was hot. The room was hot, your sweater was hot, and your boyfriend was so fucking hot; and so fucking annoying.

"Jason," you murmur, shifting in your seat as his eyes rake up your figure, shrouded in cozy brown wool. "you said...please, can you just-"

A breathy laugh escapes his lips, and he shakes his head, raking a hand through jet-black hair. He slides the chair back, stands up, and walks over to where you sit. Hovering over you and looking down at your face, which could only be described as pitiful. Your eyes are wide, and your mouth's parted slightly as you manually breathe. Yeah, you look pathetic, but it's not surprising, given the tortuous amount of arousal you were feeling and how badly you needed to get it out of your system.

"Jason." you say again, needier this time. "you said you would..." You trail off, pleading eyes find his as he looks down at you amusedly. His hands make their way to your cheeks, and he tugs at your head ever so slightly, prompting you to stand up.

"You're cute when you get like this," he says before leaning in and pressing a kiss to your lips. You bring your arms around his neck, tugging him closer to you and deepening the kiss. It very quickly devolves into a mess of tongue as your hands eagerly roam his body, sliding up his shirt and running over the rippled abs he keeps hidden away.

"Woah, easy girl," he says, pulling back, and you whimper at the sudden absence of contact between you. "I'm not gonna fuck you standing up." He looks up for a second, seemingly in thought, "At least not today."

The next part happens fast. He grips the back of your thighs, hoisting you up and around his waist, and you gasp at the sudden lack of floor beneath your feet. One hand stays on your leg while the other finds the small of your back, and he walks you over to the couch, laying you down gently.

"You're so impatient sometimes, you know that?" his hands push your sweater up a bit, and you grab the hem, pulling it over your bra and holding it at your neck. "I waited for like two hours." you breathe out as he places a few wet, open-mouthed kisses on your stomach before moving downwards and unbuttoning your jeans, tugging them and your underwear down in one swift movement. "oh, but I'm the impatient one."

He comes back up to your face, a dumb fucking grin playing on his lips, and he kisses you so gently you're slightly taken aback. "I love you," he says, nuzzling his face into your neck and breathing in your scent.

"Love me so much you're skipping the foreplay?"

"Watching you try not to finger fuck yourself for two hours was the foreplay, babe."

You tug at the hem of his shirt, and he gets the message, sitting up for a second and pulling it over his head. He tosses it over the side of the couch, then climbs off you to move onto his pants, and you take the opportunity to lift yourself slightly, removing what was left of your outfit before looking over your shoulder and tossing it behind you. When you turn back around, you're met with the bright pink tip of Jason's cock, white beads of pre-cum collecting on his tip. You've seen him naked dozens of times. Touched him, sucked him, fucked him; dozens of times. But you never really get used to how attractive he is and how much more turned on you get when you see how turned on he is by you.

He pulls you towards him by the foot, and you giggle, knowing what's to come. A calloused hand grabs hold of one of your legs, lifting it up and exposing your cunt. The inside of your thighs, already soaked from the sheer amount of wetness coming from your pussy. "Jesus Christ," he breathes, and you prop yourself up on your elbows, tilting your head down to see what he sees. Even you're shocked at how much your own folds were glistening. You glance up at him, and he gives you a questioning look, a silent "Do you think we need to prepare?" and you take another peek in between your legs, decidedly shaking your head no.

Still holding your leg up with one hand, he grabs his cock with the other, stroking it a couple times and coating it in pre-cum, before lining it up with your entrance. You feel his tip prodding at your hole, and you bite down on your lip, already imagining how good it'll feel when he's inside you.

"You ready?" 

"Do you even have to ask?"

He slides inside of you with little resistance, but you still feel how agonizingly good the stretch is. He lets out a long, drawn-out groan, stilling completely before pulling out and pushing back in all the way. He moves steadily, rocking his hips back and forth, in and out. Each stroke hits deep, making your eyes roll to the back of your head. The thickness of his cock giving you an ache so good you think you might die if you never got to experience it again. He quickens his pace a little, your tits bouncing every time his hips make contact with your pussy, and your hands find the cushions of the couch, gripping them every time he hits your sweet spot.

His free hand grabs your other thigh, pushing it towards you, and you hook your arms under your knees, bringing them to your chest, allowing him to reach even deeper than before. He leans in closer, pressing your legs further into your body, and your thighs ache. Still, the pleasure you feel overshadows the pain by a long shot.

A few groans escape Jason's lips, he's never been much of a talker during sex, and you've never really cared because the sounds he makes are enough to keep you clenching around his dick until the end of time. "Fuck." he mutters, and that alone is enough to make the familiar knot in your stomach start to unravel. You unhook one of your arms and squeeze your hand into the incredibly tight space between your legs, rubbing fast circles around your clit, while you feel Jason's pace start to falter.

Your back arches, and you lean your head so far back into the couch that you can't see his face anymore. The lewd sounds of your cunt sucking up his dick fill the room, and it's only a few seconds before you start seeing white. An overwhelming sense of euphoria washes over your body as you dig your nails into the soft cushion of the couch, and he fucks you through your orgasm, continuously kissing your cervix until you feel his cock twitch inside of you as he spills hot streams of cum inside your cunt.

Your lungs painfully expand as you try to make up for the lack of oxygen from holding your breath through your orgasm, and you tilt your head forward into a position where you can see him. Your hand makes its way up into his hair, his head hanging low, face out of view as you both catch your breath. You tug at his locks lightly, and he lifts his head, following your eyes to the legs that were squished between the two of you. Pulling back from you and holding himself up with his arms, he gives you space to stretch out on either side of the couch. You finally get a good look at him as he sits above you, hair clinging to his forehead, cheeks flushed red, and light-catching on the little bit of sweat clinging to his skin. God, you could fuck him again right now.

"You need to be spayed. This can't keep happening," he says, knowing exactly what you're thinking.

"What am I, a fucking cat?" you ask, feigning offense.

"No, but you have the libido of one in heat." he leans down again, hovering above your face, breathing out a shaky laugh. And even though your legs have gone limp, and your lungs hurt from how heavy you've been breathing, you still clench around him, seemingly ready to go again. "Nope," he says, climbing off you and gently pulling out. You wince, the sudden emptiness unbearable. He's right; you do need to be spayed. 

"I know you have the stamina for it," you joke, eyes following him as he picks up various articles of clothing off the floor before taking them to the hamper in the bathroom. You hear the sound of water running, and he returns with a wet rag in hand. "I know I do," he walks over to you, lifting one of your legs to give him better access to the mess between your thighs. "the question is, do you?"

You let out an airy laugh, watching him furrow his brows as he wipes down your legs, intent on cleaning you up. "Wanna find out?" you ask; he looks up from the mess to see the grin on your face before returning to the task at hand. 

"There's something seriously wrong with you." 

i hope you guys enjoyed this, it literally stressed me tf out !! again, my first time writing like a real smut scene so if it's not good then yk why. tell your favorite smut writers you love them because i can tell you from experience, this is much harder than it seems !!

[thehereticdiaries]

When Fantasy Becomes Reality

Summary: You're stuck in a stupidly tedious class during your final semester. The upside? The TAs are incredibly attractive. What happens when they catch you writing something very interesting during one of their tutoring sessions?

Warnings: SMUT!!!!!!!!! Reader gets manhandled, size difference, humiliation kink if you squint, fingering, oral (f rec), slight dumbification, dom!YunGi, sub!reader, one (1) spank to the thigh, praise/degredation

Pairing: Yunho x Reader x Mingi

Collab with @mingkismain ! Read her part here (it's a direct sequel)

Your final semester was supposed to be as laid-back as possible. You chose classes that you’d be able to ace with minimal effort. All of your core classes were finished at this point, so you had a bunch of free electives to fill up your last credits. For the most part, you succeeded. You could pass three out of your four classes in your sleep. That fourth class, however, proved to be much more tedious than you anticipated. Your friend insisted you take ‘Philosophy of Science Fiction’ with her. You only agreed because you figured the lectures would consist of watching sci-fi movies or reading sci-fi novels.

You were so incredibly wrong. Well, you were right about the lectures including sci-fi movies, tv shows, and novels. The numerous essays about said media were what killed you. In the 15 weeks of the semester, you had written eight essays. EIGHT. It was fun for the first two or three, but now it was just exhausting. There was only one perk to the course: the two very handsome TAs. 

Staring at Jeong Yunho and Song Mingi quickly became your number one pastime during lectures. You often attended their tutoring sessions even with your grades being near the top of the class. Which is what you were doing right now, in fact. They were holding an all-day tutoring session to help your class work on your final essays. You finished your paper on Iron Widow hours ago, but you stayed in the reserved study room and acted like you were adding your final touches. It wasn’t a total lie. You were writing, but it definitely wasn’t classroom appropriate. You were engrossed in perfecting the filthy words on your google doc. So engrossed, that you failed to notice Yunho looking over your shoulder.

“Oh, shit.” You jumped at how close his voice was, whirling around to gape at him. The study room was empty except for you and the two TAs.

“Yunho, it’s not what it looks like, I swear.” He smirked at the flush rising on your cheeks. Before you could attempt to defend yourself further, Yunho snatched your laptop from in front of you. He easily evaded you as you chased him around the table. “Give it back!”

“Mingi, give me a hand.” The other TA snaked his arms around your middle and lifted you off the ground. The height difference left your feet dangling by a few inches.

“Put me down, please! It’s not a big deal,” you pleaded, smacking his forearm repeatedly. You felt his chest vibrate when he laughed.

“Doesn’t seem like it from how hard you’re trying to get your laptop back,” Mingi teased while Yunho scrolled through your story. You wiggled to try and loosen Mingi’s grip on you, but he was definitely stronger.

“Damn, Y/N. You’re into this?” Yunho’s heated gaze fell back on you. He clicked his tongue with a shake of his head. “Dirty girl.” You froze, digging your nails into Mingi’s arm subconsciously. 

“Dude, are you going to tell me what she’s been writing or not? I think I've waited long enough.” Shit, what did that mean? You narrowed your eyes at your laptop, willing it to explode on the spot. No such explosions occurred, to your horror.

“Elena rolls her hips against Luca’s thigh, desperate for relief after his relentless teasing. He splays a hand across her lower belly to keep her from moving. ‘Patience, sweetheart. Be good for me or I won’t let you cum at all tonight.’ Elena pouts up at her lover, tears welling–”

“Yunho! Shut up, please, shut the fuck up!” You hid your face in your hands. You yelped when Mingi swatted your thigh. 

“It’s rude to interrupt someone when they’re speaking,” you shivered at his breath fanning across your neck as he scolded you. “Keep going, Yunho.”

“Oh, this is a good line: Elena’s thighs tremble against Luca’s hold. She whimpers and tries to push him away, but he uses the hand not inside her to pin her arm to her side. ‘You wanted to cum, love. So now you’re going to cum as many times as I see fit.’ Elena whines as he licks another thick stripe over her clit,” Yunho paused to share a look with Mingi. His eyes looked darker than normal.

“Is that what you want, pretty girl? You want to be pinned down and forced to cum over and over again?” Mingi’s voice was low next to your ear. You swallowed down the whimper that nearly escaped your throat.

“Looks like it. Her character came three times on the dude’s mouth and fingers, then two more times on his cock,” Yunho confirmed in your silence. He skimmed through the next few paragraphs, grinning wickedly. 

“Any more interesting scenes?” You truly wished the ground would open up and swallow you whole. You were beyond mortified, especially since they seemed to relish in your humiliation. 

“Mmm, a couple lines here and there,” Yunho glanced up at you, tongue poking against his cheek. “She really likes to mix praise and degradation.” He set your laptop on the table, stalking forward to invade your space. You refused to look him in the eye.

“Does she?” The hand not supporting your weight gripped your jaw, forcing you to look at Yunho. 

“Some of her most used lines to use are full of it.” Yunho ran his hand up the back of your neck to grip your hair. You couldn’t contain your soft moan this time. “You taste so fucking good, sweetheart. You look so pretty taking my cock. Look at you, such a good little slut for me.” 

“I’m- I don’t…” You stumbled over your words, panting from their body heat pressing into you. “Please…”

“Please what, baby?” Yunho teased with an edge of condescension to his voice. His hand trailed up your thigh, fingers brushing under the hem of your skirt.

“Do you want us to stop?” Mingi’s hand released your jaw, only to rest on your neck. “Or do you want us to do all those filthy things to you?” A strangled sound at the back of your throat morphed into a gasp.

“We need an answer. A verbal yes or no, otherwise you’ll get nothing,” Yunho drawled, dragging his hand further up your skirt and pulling your leg to hook over his hip. 

“Fuck,” you cursed under your breath. You took a shuddering breath, goosebumps rising under his touch. “I- I want it.”

“Not good enough. What do you want, sweetheart?” Mingi insisted, hand slightly tightening on your neck. 

“I want you to do the things I wrote about. God, please do something,” you whined loudly, thankful for the sound dampeners lining the study room walls. Yunho stepped back so Mingi could sit, keeping your back pressed to his chest and holding your legs open over his knees. You’d imagined having Yunho between your thighs, but fuck the real thing was so much better. He shoved your skirt up to bunch around your hips.

“Shit, you’re already so wet and we haven’t even touched you yet,” Yunho smirked and pushed your thighs further apart. “Feel her, Mingi.” The man behind you dropped a hand down to stroke over the wet patch on your panties. Your hips jolted forward as he pressed down on your clit.

“Damn,” Mingi sucked a breath in through his teeth. He lightened the pressure from his fingers, tracing soft circles that offered little relief.

“Y/N, do you know the traffic light system?” Yunho tapped your knee to grab your attention. You nodded, head feeling fuzzy from their teasing. “Tell me.”

“U-um, green means I’m good, an-and to keep going. Yellow, fuck, yellow means slow down or change something. Red is a hard stop,” you stuttered, interrupting yourself with airy whines. 

“Good. Once we start, Mingi and I won’t stop until we think you’ve had enough. ‘No’ and ‘stop’ mean nothing, the only word that matters is ‘red’.” Yunho pulled roughly on your skirt, pulling you closer to him. Mingi lifted your hips so Yunho could drag your panties down your legs. You barely registered him pocketing them. He littered your thighs with open-mouthed kisses, avoiding where you really wanted him. Your hips bucked forward to try to get him to go faster.

“Sit still,” Mingi ordered. You yelped at the warning bite left on your inner thigh. You squirmed again, pulling an irritated huff from Mingi. He pinned your hips against his with one arm. You gasped at the feeling of his half-hard cock against your ass. 

“What do you think she should get, Mingi?” Yunho didn’t wait for an answer to finally run his tongue over your clit. Your hand shot down to his hair, winding your fingers in the soft strands. 

“She’ll take exactly what she wrote, and more.” The hand not holding you still moved under your shirt to cup your tit over your bra. You couldn’t even comprehend what he meant, too lost in the shockwaves of pleasure Yunho’s mouth sent through your core. You cried out when he thrust two fingers into your dripping cunt. You dropped your head onto Mingi’s shoulder, giving him access to suck dark hickeys on your neck and collarbones. 

“Fuck, fuck, Yunho please,” you panted heavily, pushing against the arm holding you in place. 

“You close already, sweetheart?” Yunho’s voice sent vibrations across your sensitive clit. 

“Yes! Please, can I cum?” You whimpered when his fingers curled to drag over the spongy spot you couldn’t reach with your own.

“Ooh, asking permission?” Mingi smirked against your neck. “Good girl, cum for us.” Another harsh suck sent you over the edge, eyes rolling to the back of your head. You clapped a hand over your mouth to muffle your scream. Yunho slowed his fingers, but didn’t stop licking your clit until your thighs trembled. He pulled back, mouth and chin shining with your release. 

“It sounded cheesy before, but fuck, you really do taste so fucking good,” he repeated the words you had written just before your laptop was taken. “Look at you, already fucked out before we’ve even fucked you.” He stopped thrusting his fingers, keeping them buried in you to continue curling against your g-spot. You clenched when Mingi circled your clit once before continuing down to prod at your entrance. Your back arched as two of his fingers pushed into you, right next to Yunho’s. 

“God, you’re tight. Can’t wait to fuck your pretty pussy,” Mingi groaned, unable to tear his eyes away from where their fingers disappeared in you. The stretch and Mingi’s palm brushing your clit had another orgasm quickly building. 

“Who would have guessed? Ms top-of-the-class is secretly a kinky little slut,” Yunho mocked, grinning when your walls clamped down on them. He sat up higher on his knees to leave his own marks on your neck. He bit into the juncture of your neck and shoulder, pulling a pathetic squeak from your throat.

“C-cumming!” Was the only warning they got before you arched in another orgasm, inadvertently grinding down on Mingi’s hard-on. Your skin buzzed and you struggled to catch your breath. They continued to finger-fuck you through your high. 

“Too much, too much, please,” you whined, weakly pushing at their wrists. Yunho’s free hand grabbed your jaw to force eye contact.

“What’s your color?” 

“...green,” you answered after a beat of silence.

“Thought so.” Yunho crashed his lips into yours, immediately licking into your mouth. You tasted yourself lingering on his tongue. You whimpered at the emptiness left when they removed their fingers. Yunho pulled back, still connected to you by a string of saliva. “Mingi’s turn.” Your back hit the table before you could process his words. Your legs were thrown over Mingi’s shoulders as he dove in to lap at your swollen clit.

“Fuck! I can’t- how many more?” Tears gathered on your lash line. Blinking them away, you stared as Yunho palmed himself through his jeans.

“You get stupid when you cum, don’t you? Can’t even remember the scene that you wrote.” Yunho sat in the chair you occupied moments ago. He tilted his head at you sifting through your syrupy thoughts.

“T-three on your fingers and tongues, two o-on your,” a high-pitched moan cut into your sentence. “Fuck, oh my god. Two on your cocks.” Another rush of arousal shot up your spine when you realized that both of them were going to fuck you. 

“Atta girl,” the slight praise went straight to your head. Mingi stole your attention back by blowing cool air over your clit. Your hips jerked, overly sensitive from cumming twice already. He watched your face contort with pleasure, pupils blown wide. Three of his fingers pushed back into your cunt, walls fluttering around him. In the back of your mind, you realized that they were prepping you to take their cocks.

“You’re right, Yunho. She does taste good.” Mingi’s eyes flickered to his friend for a moment before returning his focus to your pussy. “She makes such pretty noises when we stuff her full of our fingers.”

“I bet she’ll sound downright sinful when she’s stuffed full of our dicks.” The way they spoke about you like you weren’t in the room made you dizzy. Your head floated in a cloudy haze. Mingi moved back to your clit, sucking hard.

“Fuck!” Your third orgasm hit like lightning, only lasting a few seconds but leaving you breathless and flushed. You nearly sobbed, pressing the heels of your hands into your eyes. You barely felt it when Mingi stood from his place between your legs. When you finally managed to open your eyes, they loomed over you, eyeing you up with a predatory glint in their eyes.

“Oh, sweetheart, we’re nowhere near done with you."

Permanent Taglist: @furfoxsake22 @babygirlskz98 @miniverse-zen @holly-here @corgilover20 @eastjonowhere @bookswillfindyouaway

[festivalsofmargot]

how do you think Ominis, Garreth, and Sebastian would react to a jealous reader being jealous because someone else was being flirty and asking them to the Yule Ball?

The 3 Boys & Your Jealousy

{Garreth Weasley/Ominis Gaunt/Sebastian Sallow x GN!Reader}

Word Count: 

Garreth: ~ 1500 words

Ominis: ~ 1700 words

Sebastian: ~ 1400 words

Warnings: Kissing, Fluff, Angst

Author’s Note: Lord, I’m having so much fun with these requests. Thank you, anon!!! I tried to make them all have different reactions to reader getting jealous, but I know they’d all secretly love it lmfao. So it’s a little similar, but it’s definitely the 3 boys enjoying it in their own way. Have a fun time, everyone 🥰 Hope you’re all having a good day ❤ 

Songs (if interested):

Garreth’s song: You Stupid Bitch - girl in red

Ominis’ song: Silence / akiaura - hentai boys, akiaura

Sebastian’s song: My Kind of Woman - Mac DeMarco

-

Garreth:

“I feel like you’ve been avoiding me. Did I do something wrong?” Garreth Weasley had come up to you and asked. For someone who was asking if something was wrong, he could look a bit more concerned. Rather than just munching on his apple, looking at it like it was the only thing that had his full attention.

You took a deep breath and rubbed at your temple roughly. You were overreacting and you knew it, but dammit you couldn’t help but hate him at the moment. “No Garreth, I’m just not in the best mood today.”

“Well, talk to me.” He plopped himself down on the Central Hall fountain bench next to you. “Some have called me a good listener.” He took another bite of his apple, obnoxiously loud.

“Not right now. Why don’t you go bother someone else?”

“Who else could I bother like this? You and I got a good thing going.” He haphazardly joked.

“How about your date to the ball? That’s a good place to start if you ask me.”

He furrowed his brows, trying to decipher what you were talking about. Then he remembered Samantha Dale had asked him to be his date the night before. “Oh! You know about that? How does word travel so fast in such a huge castle?” He wondered aloud with his mouth full, looking at his apple as he turned it in his hand.

Merlin, you didn’t know why you were so head over heels for Garreth Weasley. Something about his carefree, aloof attitude made you fluttery all over. You wanted to smack him just as much as you wanted to kiss him. 

Truth be told, you were convinced he was going to ask you to The Yule Ball. But once you saw Samantha Dale talking with him about it and seeing how big his smile was, you became so frustrated with yourself for ever thinking such a thing. How could you have been so wrong about his signs? You shouldn’t have assumed your flirty banter together was something special between the two of you. You had no one to blame but yourself.

“Look Garreth, I’m pretty busy. Samantha will be better company than me today.” You took out the essay you were halfway finished with and began writing, hoping he would take the hint.

He was about to take another bite of his apple when the pieces came together in his brain. You think I said yes to Samantha... and you're jealous. 

It was hard to keep calm when he felt so elated. He had been pining for you since 5th year and never had the courage to confess his feelings. Being with you as a friend was better than risking not being with you at all. But here you were, acting as green as his eyes. Becoming jumpy, he scratched the back of his head and looked away from you, trying to bite back his delighted smile.

“So...” He began as casually as he could, “You don’t like the idea of me going to the ball with Samantha?”

You stiffened. Am I caught? You swallowed the lump in your throat. “I don’t care who you go with, Weasley.”

You used his last name instead of his first, that was how he always knew if you were upset with him. In this particular moment, he took a dark pleasure in it. “Well, it sounds like you care a little.” 

You looked up from your essay to the marble floor in front of you and clenched your jaw, trying to calm your irritated nerves and stop yourself from saying something you’d regret. “It doesn’t matter if I care. Go with who you want.” You went back to your essay.

“But you care.” He slid closer to you so that his thigh was touching yours. Your whole body tensed and you shifted your leg away, disgusted at his brazenness to continue flirting with you when he was going to the ball with someone else.

“I’m going to work in my room.” You pulled your belongings together and left your place next to him.

Garreth got up and followed you easily, finishing the last of his apple and tossing it in a nearby bin. He rubbed the back of his hand across his mouth to wipe off any apple juice. Maybe he could wipe off his idiotic smile while he was at it too. 

You could feel his chest practically against your back as he followed close in pursuit. “Leave me alone, Garreth. I’m really not in the mood today.” You growled at him, but he didn’t let up. 

He took glances around as he kept up with you. Once he was confident no one was looking, he grabbed your arm and pulled you into a nearby, empty corridor.

“What are you -”

“Tell me you’re jealous. I want to hear you say it.” 

His words sent your mind through a whirlwind and you shoved him away. “You got some nerve, going to the ball with Samantha and going after me like this -”

“Oh, for Merlin’s sake! I turned her down. School gossip failed to mention that part, I see.” He interjected. “Now let me have this a little longer.” He stepped closer to you, daring you to push him away again. “This thing where you want me all to yourself, I think I really like it.” His words came off as a jest, but he was genuinely aroused.

You narrowed your eyes at him, trying to determine if he was being truthful or just trying to keep up his flirty banter with you. But your icy glare at him through your lashes only made him more feral rather than intimidated. 

“I -” He cleared his throat, regaining composure. “I’ve been looking for you all day so I could ask you to the ball, but you kept dodging me.”

“Garreth, if this is some sort of messed up joke where you try to get two dates to the ball -”

“It’s not. But, that is a fun idea.” He quipped, hoping it would lighten the mood. 

Sighing, you turned on your heel to walk away.

“Sorry sorry sorry, bad joke, bad time.” He grabbed your wrist, panicked. “But I’m serious about taking you. I really want to take you.” He swallowed thickly and held your wrist in his hand. “Would you... want that too?” As he waited for you to respond, he had started stroking your skin with his thumb, unaware he was doing so.

His hopeful look along with his tone had managed to convince you he was being truthful. This was the first step either of you had taken beyond flirty banter, and it had you finally soften to him that day. You looked at his hand on your wrist and adjusted so you could entwine your fingers through his. His heart nearly burst out of his chest. Was this finally happening?

You looked up at him then, but locked on his lips rather than his eyes. Heat formed in his abdomen at your gaze. He used his free hand to cup your jaw. The dark look in your eyes told him you had the same severe craving for him as he did you. He eased towards you and brushed his lips over yours.

He pulled back to gauge your reaction. You looked at him with wide eyes and for a brief moment, he thought he had messed up and taken it too far. But all that panic went away when you dropped your books and threw your arms around him, seizing his lips, taking all coyness between you two and throwing it out the window.

Your sudden burst had rocked him both physically and mentally. Gripping you back, hard and fast, he steadied himself, stepping on your essay as he did so. He matched your eager mouth movements with just as much intensity. 

Needing to come back up for air, you pulled back. You looked at each other, breathless. All that tension between you two through the years had finally been able to get released at least somewhat.

“You looked so happy when Samantha asked you. I assumed you said yes.” You told him, still catching your breath.

He hadn’t realized you had been there to see Samantha asking him to the ball. He was both sorry you didn’t catch him rejecting her and sorry you had to catch it at all. Merlin only knows how he would have handled watching someone else asking you. “She’s a good friend, I mean I wasn’t going to scowl or laugh her off. I was letting her down as easy as I could.”

“I’m sorry I was jealous.”

He kept his face close to yours and glanced back at your lips, ready for more. “I’m sorry I enjoyed it.”

“No, you’re not.” 

“I’m not.” He captured your lips once more.

- 

Ominis:

Ominis was in a full on panic. He hadn’t the faintest idea what he had done wrong. He may be blind, but he could sense, clear as day, that you were upset with him. 

He was pacing back and forth in his dorm room when he was supposed to be at dinner. The sickness he felt had made it hard for him to want to digest anything.

He had been up at all hours of the night thinking about how he was going to ask you to The Yule Ball. But every time he tried to approach you that day, you’d take your leave. He thought he would have gotten his chance in History of Magic class, but everything seemed off. You usually tried to sit close to him and brush your fingers along his, it excited him each and every time. But today, he felt as if you were sitting as far as you possibly could from him.

He was trying to think back on everything that happened before you became so drastically distant. The last time he remembers you two being fine was when he had finally built up the courage to ask you that morning. 

Sebastian had pushed him to do it and fueled his ego to prep him, affirming that he saw the way you looked at him and how you weren’t so subtle about it. He was filled with so much joy, he couldn’t stop himself from smiling like a buffoon when he went to talk to you. 

“Ominis!” You had greeted him so cheerfully, it had removed any doubt in what Sebastian told him. As he was about to greet you back, Adelaide Oakes had touched his shoulder from behind to grab his attention. She then went on and on about how she fancied him, and took the ball as her chance to finally tell him how she felt. He had never been so overwhelmed with romantic attention in his life, it only fueled his confidence more. His words came out in a stutter to Adelaide to thank her but decline. It was difficult to turn someone down while grinning like a fool.

“I um - I'll leave you two to it.” He heard you say before he finished speaking with Adelaide. Your footsteps behind him had walked away so fast, he would have believed it if you were running. And ever since, for some reason you’ve been... oh. It hit him then. You must have assumed he was going to say yes to Adelaide. You couldn’t possibly be jealous, could you? If you were, he needed to find you and fix this immediately. But damn him if he wasn’t a bit thrilled at the idea.

He had his wand guide him to the first place he thought you could be in, the astronomy tower. It was late in the day, he was sure you’d be there. As he made his way up, he found his excitement at your jealousy swelling. You weren’t jealous because he was a Gaunt, a descendant of Salazar Slytherin, going with someone else. No, you were jealous because he was Ominis, a boy you liked for who he was, going with someone else. Or so you thought.

When his wand brought him to the astronomy tower and sensed you were close, he felt a bit of pride that he knew you as well as he thought he did. But he steadied himself, remembering you were upset with him. Coming at you beaming probably wasn’t the best approach.

“Ominis? What brings you here?” Your voice was monotone, nowhere near as pleased to see him as you were earlier.

He was relieved you were willing to speak to him rather than run off. “I needed to talk to you. Figured you’d be up here.” He approached cautiously.

You furrowed your brows, wondering what he could possibly need you for. Oh you’d just die if he wanted to ask for advice on how to treat Adelaide well at the ball. You turned away from him and lazily looked through your telescope. “Probably best we talk tomorrow.”

“You’re upset with me.”

You peeked up at him briefly, knowing it wasn’t fair to be, then went back to your telescope. You exhaled, inwardly chiding yourself. Ominis doesn’t owe you anything. “I’m sorry, I’ve just... had a lot on my mind.”

His wand guided him to the railing you were near and he leaned himself against it. “I’m all ears.” Part of him wanted to clear everything up as soon as possible, but another, increasingly louder part of him wanted to hear you confess that you were jealous, confess that you didn’t want anyone else to have him but you. So, he dared to play coy a little longer.

“You don’t want to hear what I have to say.”

“Try me.” The way he said it had taken you aback, as if he was telling you, not asking you, to talk to him.

“And what if I don’t want to tell you?” You looked back up at him, a bit of venom coming through.

He took a few steps towards your voice. I think I like this game. He knew he shouldn’t find your jealousy this exhilarating, but he did. He wanted it to absorb you until you couldn’t stand it anymore.

The look on his face stirred something fierce in you and you tried to take a quiet, calming breath. You hoped he wouldn’t hear you doing so, but he did, and it only added fuel to his fire.

“I don’t hear you walking away, so I think you do want to tell me.” He reached out for your robes and pulled at you to come closer to him. 

You had been weak for Ominis Gaunt since 5th year, so you obliged. But you didn’t do so without internally screaming at yourself for being such a fool. 

Despite being so close, you kept your hands to yourself, he noted. But he could sense your body tensing and he knew you were close to talking. He just needed to hold out a bit longer, push you just so in the right direction. “You’re angry with me, tell me why.” He knew why.

“I shouldn’t be angry with you.”

“Yet you are.”

“I am.”

“Tell me what I’ve done.”

“You... haven’t done anything.”

His grip moved from your robe to your waist, he could feel you shift at his touch, but you didn’t pull away. “I have, tell me.”

“You know, you shouldn’t be up here with me alone, touching me like you are. Wouldn’t want Adelaide or me getting the wrong idea, would you?” He could hear the bitterness in your voice, and it was sending him over the edge. You shoved his hand away and went to the railing, leaning forward and looking out. “I don’t think you mean to, Ominis. But you’re really messing with my head. Looking as happy as you were when Adelaide asked you to the ball, and now you’re here acting like you care for me.”

He followed your voice again and came up behind you. His hands found your shoulders and he comfortingly slid them down to your biceps. His touch still had the same, nerve-racking affect on you. You shrugged him off and turned to face him. He put both hands on the railing on either side of you, trapping you in. “I do care for you.”

As a friend. You wanted to finish for him. Him saying this to you knowing he was going to The Yule Ball with Adelaide hurt. Ominis was the last person who should be comforting you. “I need to go.” You nearly choked, heartbreak constricting your throat. But Ominis kept you blocked in, he wasn’t going to let you leave. 

“Tell me why I’ve upset you.”

Being in this position with him had an inferno swirling in you. Being able to see his pale, blue eyes this close had any fight in you vanish. “I wanted... you to ask me to The Yule Ball today. I wanted you to go with me, not Adelaide.” 

He leaned forward towards your neck and brushed his nose along your skin. 

Your melancholy turned into something else at his touch, something more throbbing. You reached your hands up along his chest, felt his heartrate pick up along with yours. “I want you to be with me.” You confessed in a whisper.

He began to kiss at your neck and you fisted the fabric of his uniform to keep yourself upright. He kissed up your neck, along your jaw, feeling his way to find your lips. He got to the corner of your mouth and pulled back just slightly, leaning his forehead against yours.

“I want you all to myself.”

He crashed his lips into yours. Your hands held tight to his shirt to keep him close. He took his hands off the railing to wrap his arms around your waist, his place against your mouth feeling all the more secure. You nipped at his bottom lip and he couldn’t help but let out a throaty “mmh.” 

He often tried to imagine what it would feel like to kiss you, the taste of your lips, the sensation of your hands roaming him as pretty as you pleased. This moment had been better than anything he conjured up in his head. He had never envisioned how much hot need would be in it until he had you there in his arms.

You tried to push him away suddenly, but he kept at you, not yet having had his fill. “Wait -” You caved for a brief moment and kissed him back, then pulled away again. “What about -”

“I said no to Adelaide.” He went back to your lips, then to your neck to explain himself so you’d stop pulling away. “I was going to ask you. But you ran off.” He hoped that was enough to stop any further questions, because his mind was already onto more pressing matters. He had heard that sucking on someone’s neck would leave marks, he decided to try it on you then.

You bit your lip, trying to keep your eyes from rolling into the back of your head. “You um -” You cleared your throat, “You still want to ask me?”

“I will, but let’s not talk right now.” 

-

Sebastian:

“What has gotten into you today?” Sebastian caught you off guard, shutting the greenhouse door behind him. You were tending to the carnivorous plants for Professor Garlick, you being the only student she really entrusted with such duties. 

You glanced at him over your shoulder, then brought your focus back to the plants. “I’m a little busy right now, Sebastian.”

He had never heard you speak to him with such acidity, you might as well have slapped him in the face. You had been in a sour mood with him all day. Of all the times for you to be upset with him, why did it have to be the day he had finally decided to confess his feelings and ask you to The Yule Ball? He strode to your side and bore his gaze into you, willing you to face him and explain yourself.

You didn’t give in and continued tending to the chomping cabbages. Sebastian was the last person you wanted to see. After everything the two of you had gone through, all the glimpses you gave each other, all the near kisses, how could it not mean the same for him as it did you? Was his overprotectiveness for you something brotherly rather than romantic? You felt so stupid having mixed the two. You had fallen so deeply in love with him through the years, and now you’ve come to find he doesn’t see you in that way. He made it very obvious how smitten he was when Grace Pinch-Smedley fawned over him, professing her love and asking him to the ball. 

“At least tell me what's upset you so.” He said sternly, interrupting your tragic thoughts.

You knew you should wait until your anger dissipated before speaking with him, but in that moment you didn’t care. You set down your gardening tools and turned to face him.

“How about we talk about you first, Sebastian?”

He let out a frustrated exhale through his nose and crossed his arms over his chest. “What about me?”

“I saw you and Grace speaking this morning, seems you were quite pleased with yourself. Care to share?”

He quirked his brow, not sure where you were heading with this. He remembered Grace speaking with him, but he didn’t remember feeling ‘pleased with himself’. “You saw Grace and I, did you?”

“I did.” You turned back to the chomping cabbages then. “Seems she was doing more than just asking you to the ball.”

He inwardly cringed at the memory. He was flattered at her confession, sure. But the part where he had to reject her had really taken away anything pleasant about the moment. “She told me she had been... harboring feelings for me.” He got shifty thinking back on it, getting rejected after spilling your guts like that must be dreadful.

You took note of his body language, and rosy cheeks. It was salt in the wound and the scowl on your face deepened. “No need to be so bloody bashful about it, Sebastian.” You mumbled.

He stilled then. You thought he was ‘bashful’ thinking back on his interaction with Grace? The gears in his brain started turning.

In that moment, you figured this was your last chance to lay it all out there for him. Since Grace very blatantly told him she wanted more than just a date to the ball, best to tell him how you felt now before they were officially together.

You turned to him fully. “Sebastian, do you care for me?”

His heart began racing and he straightened. “Of course.”

“Like you care for Anne and Ominis?"

“I do.” He said with conviction.

“So, like a sibling?”

“I - Well, I -”

“Because I don’t care for you like a brother, Sebastian.” You took a step towards him.

He was entranced, listening close to everything you had to say. The air between you two grew thick and it clicked for him then. The possessiveness he usually felt over you was now what you were feeling over him. You were under the impression he accepted Grace’s feelings... and you can’t stand it. A rousing sensation shot through him. He wanted to see what more you would do with this newfound greediness for him. 

“Perhaps you should have gotten to me before Grace did.” It was bold. He knew he was treading on thin ice, but seeing you act in the way he usually did was a turn of the tables he never knew he wanted to see. He was going to egg you on, get as much of this avaricious side out of you as he could before you devoured him like the plants in this room wanted to.

You reached out to him and began trifling with his tie. He stood perfectly still, afraid that if he moved you’d get discouraged and release him. “Are you telling me you would have been mine if I got to you first?”

Oh yes. “Suppose we’ll never know, considering you didn’t.” This wasn’t at all how he thought confessing his feelings to you would go. But this was a much more electrifying way to do so.

The two of you had unknowingly stepped closer to one another, pulled together like magnetic stones. Your hands were no longer fiddling with his tie, but rather holding it, ever so gently pulling him towards you. “So I’ve lost you, have I?”

Fight for me. Don’t let anyone else have me. “And if you have?” He wanted to find out what your lips tasted like more than he ever had before. He was so close, and eyed them oh so hungrily. But he tried to hold strong a bit longer, so he could know if you were feeling just as carnivorous for him as he always had for you.

The fire in your eyes almost had him on his knees. 

Claim me. Claim me as I’ve claimed you.

Giving his tie a hard yank, you pulled him to you and caught his lips with yours. You didn’t waste any time, straightaway tasting his bottom lip with your tongue. Keeping an unyielding grip on his tie, you shot a hand up to his hair and held tight. He put his hands on your hips, and couldn’t stop himself from pulling at your shirt so it came untucked. His hands roamed around your lower back, under your shirt to feel your skin.

Your movements in this kiss were the result of years of pining. There was both an ache to take it slow, feeling everything you both possibly could, and an urgency to make up for lost time right then and there. Now that you finally had him... Wait wait wait, I don’t have him.

You tore yourself from him and walked away, tucking your shirt back in.

“Wha - What? Where are you going?” He was breathless and dizzy and disheveled from your kiss. Get back here.

“Go to Grace.”

He groaned. He should have known keeping up the Grace ruse would have some sort of consequence. But in the moment, he was so obsessive over the fact that you wanted to stake your claim on him, he couldn’t help himself. “I lied about Grace. I turned her down.”

You turned to face him, still keeping your distance across the greenhouse. “Why would you -”

“Because being near you makes me crazy, that’s why!” He shot a hand through his hair, more out of anguish than to fix the mess you made. “I’m mad for you. How have you not noticed? This... possessiveness you have over me today? I feel it for you all the time. So, I’m sorry if I crossed a line, I -” He let out a shaky breath, trying to put the words together. “Seeing you act how I have... I wanted to relish it a bit longer. Forgive me.”

You remained where you were, but he could see your features shift. “Enjoyed my suffering, did you?”

Trying to keep his composure, he nodded his head. Your sultry look had his blood heading somewhere it shouldn’t in the middle of the greenhouse.

He may have been slow catching onto your jealousy, but he was quick to catch that you wanted his lips back on yours. Ravenous himself, he strode up to you and pulled you back against him.