#when did self expression and self entitlement become the same word | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

uravitypng · 5 months

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𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐠𝐢𝐫𝐥𝐟𝐫𝐢𝐞𝐧𝐝'𝐬 𝐚 𝐛𝐢𝐭𝐜𝐡

pairing: denki kaminari x reader

word count: 4.8k words

a/n: i'm so glad i finished this and i hope you all like this because i loved writing this. denki's girlfriend is possibly one of the worst people ever...

content warnings: cheating(denki cheats on his girlfriend with reader), praise, unprotected sex, creamie/coming inside, body worship, denki's girlfriend is the absolute worst, multiple orgasms, pining, reader has some self esteem issues and self doubts but denki shows her how perfect she is, oral(f!recieving), denki calls condoms rubber, reader is in denial, petnames, reader is hinted to be chubby, - mdni/18+

you didn't even want to be here... you always got a bad vibe off of them. you're 'friends' with mina but just barely, yet somehow she's dragged you to a party with people who you're definitely not 'friends' with.

at least kaminari is here, he always smiles at you and makes conversation with you even if his girlfriend is a total bitch and probably is the worst out of all of them.

you miss the time before you knew they were dating. somehow after finding that out his girlfriend seemed even worse and more entitled.

you walk into the kitchen in hopes to get another drink but instead you hear that bitch and you had a feeling she was originally talking about you and it was confirmed when she said your name. "i don't know why she's even here. the only reason mina invited her was out of pity." she says spitefully. your eyes well up with tears, maybe you did get invited out of pity, mina is someone who would do that, she knows you don't have many friends.

this whole time you don't realise kaminari is behind you hearing the same thing you are and his face twists in disgust as he hears his girlfriend carry on speaking, "she's just so boring, it's no wonder she's single." your heart fills heavy, it's not your fault that you're single you've just never found someone you clicked with, you blame it on all the fictional characters you like and you often compared them to all your potential relationships. "she's ugly. it's almost a crime that she's at a party with us, that she's in hinami's home. when i started dating kami i met some of his other friends from school when he was younger, that's when i met mineta. the really short one y'know? short, pervy and unattractive, all around terrible guy. he's probably going to be single for the rest of his life, the only way he's not is if he dates her and even then it'll be him who's the more better looking one." they laugh.

why, why, why? what did you ever do to them?

you know you're not the most interesting or the most attractive but you don't deserve this- no one does. you don't want to make a scene but you have to leave, you can't stay here any longer. you wish you could speak up for yourself but you can't and even if you could what good would it do? so you decide to leave before you start hyperventilating, before saying goodbye to mina. turning around to leave when you literally bump into kaminari and there's an expression on his face that you've never seen before and he doesn't even try to hide it.

he looks angry. more than angry, he looks pissed. he's gripping hold of the beer he's drinking so hard that his hands are becoming white around the bottle, his jaw is clenched and his stare is hard but when he feels you bump into him his eyes soften when he looks at you and takes you in. you're biting your lip trying not to sob and tears are filling your waterline. as you see him you can't stop the dam from breaking as the tears heavily stream down your face. as you push past him you hope to never see him again- any of them.

that doesn't happen though. denki has made it a point to wiggle himself into your life, inserting himself there. it happened that very night after you left the party, about half an hour after you arrived home and changed into comfy clothes he came knocking on you door. "kaminari? how... how do you know where i live? wait, what- hold up, what are you even doing here?"

why is he wet, has it been raining? he smiles genuinely at you, even though he's soaked to the bone, freezing from the rain and so very irate with his girlfriend just seeing you cheers him up. he's never seen you in a comfortable setting before, a setting where you're not dressing up from anyone, you look even cuter than normal...

"can i come in?" he asks you and you blink slowly and heavily a few times, processing the question. it relaxes you because the way he says it sounds like a sincere questions. sometimes when people ask a question you know you have to answer a certain way, you know there is a right way.

sometimes when someone asks "can i...?" you have to say yes because saying no isn't really an option, they're not really asking you. but when you heard denki say, "can i come in?" you relax because you know you could just say no and that would be okay, he would be okay with that. if you told him no he 'can't come in' he'd just leave and won't push you to say yes or try to make you feel guilty. sometimes questions like "can i come in?" or a "can we go here?" are almost rhetorical question.

he makes you feel safe.

you nod your head and step aside letting him through. "okay," you reply softly and a little hoarsely, slightly annoyed at yourself for not speaking more louder and assertively.

"how are you feeling?"

the tether that's keeping you from becoming frustrated feels like it starts fraying "how do you think i'm feeling?" beginning to get annoyed at him because why is he even here talking to you, shouldn't he still be at hinema's house with his girlfriend?

"yeah... that's a stupid question, sorry." denki rubs the back of his head with hand and steps a little bit closer to you. "let me make you feel better," he blurts out.

"huh?"

denki steps even closer to you and gently holds onto your hand, clasping it in his. "let me... let me make you feel better. let me apologise on my girlfriends behalf..." your eyes go wide starting to have an idea about what he means but not wanting to verbalise it and jump to conclusions, worrying to get the wrong idea. "let me... show you- show you how beautiful you are, how wonderful you are." he squeezes your hand momentarily and says quietly, almost begging, "please."

"what about your girlfriend?" you say girlfriend with disdain.

"what about her? she doesn't matter. let me show you how pretty you are love."

your heartbeat increases at the nickname and your face heats up. "i- i don't know kaminari."

"denki." he says gently but authoritatively.

"what?"

"please, please call me denki." he pleads, squeezing your hand again.

"okay, denki..." you test his name on your tongue and it sounds right, like you should always be saying it.

even now you're still not sure to what compelled you to say, "please show me denki." you never regretted your answer.

it starts slowly, gently, tenderly. denki cups your cheek in his palm and kisses you, placing his other hand on your hip keeping you close to him. the longer you kiss the more hungry it becomes and you're not really sure if it was you or him that deepened the kiss and pressed your bodies up against each other.

"can i love?" he gestures to your top that he's currently fiddling with the hem of, wanting to lift it up so he can touch you properly and get a good look at you.

you hum in affirmation and keep your lips attached to his, not wanting to separate. denki slivers your top up and puts his hand where it used to be, now on your exposed supple flesh, his cold hands stroking your skin delicately. as you feel his hands you shudder remembering now about how drenched he is. "you must be freezing denki." you finally move away from his lips and see his clothes covered in rain with rain drops dripping down his hair landing on his shoulders.

"it's okay. completely worth it." denki grins at you and you suddenly feel shy by the way he's looking at you. you definitely feel pretty by his gaze, it's electrifying and makes you feel bashful all at once.

"do- do you want a towel to dry yourself off with?" denki kisses your jaw and smiles, distracting you.

"don't worry about it love." his breathe against your neck making you shiver. you pout even though he can't see you and you still worry, not wanting him to get a cold. "you keep me warm."

"but-"

denki presses his lips against yours and wraps both his arms around your waist. you moan quietly and he lifts your top up over your head. "is this okay?"

"yes please," you respond, hoping not to sound too needy.

he smirks at your tone and takes off the rest of your clothes. "jesus, you look even more beautiful than i imagined," he says quietly to himself, you're not sure if you were suppose to hear it or if he even meant to say it out loud. denki runs his hands along the curves of your body.

"you imagined me?" you match his volume and he looks startled at your question, obviously surprised that you heard what he said, you come to the conclusion that he thought he was thinking but he actually said out loud

"who wouldn't? you're beautiful." denki kisses your shoulder and holds one of your breasts in his large hands, stroking your nipple as you bite your lip to stop any embarrassing noises spilling out. you're already feeling shy as it is after denki has said such nice things about you.

after realising what you were doing he takes your chin in his hand and tilts you to look at him so you're making eye contact. "look at me. you don't need to do that. not with me. i want to see you. i want to hear all the noises you make, i want you."

denki grazes his teeth along your neck and you gasp. "those are the noises i wanted." you press your lips together trying not to smile, denki grins at how adorable you look.

he moves to take off his shirt and you thought he looked good beforehand in a casual black button up shirt but god does he look even better with it off. you thought he'd be kind of skinny but he's actually lean and a little slim. you can see some defining muscle, his arms are just the same. a couple of moles on his forearms and faint freckles dust his shoulders and upper chest. you wonder if he has light freckles on his face too because you've never once seen them but maybe you haven't looked hard enough.

you know you're probably staring a tiny bit too much at his slender waist and yellow happy trail that matches the colour of his hair and he doesn't mind one bit, happy that you like what you see and fond of your attention.

"like what you see?" he chuckles. you go to hide your face behind your hand after being caught but denki catches your wrist. "what did i tell you? i want to see you sweetheart." you have the urge to bury your face against his chest, hiding away from his gaze but you resist the urge.

everything became a little hazy after that for the next ten minutes, denki has manoeuvred you into your bedroom onto your bed, hovering over you, and keeping you in between his two arms. you pull denki down by wrapping your arms around his neck so you can kiss him again. the kiss begins slow and sweet before denki runs his tongue against your bottom lip, silently asking for access into your mouth and you grant him it. your tongues intertwine and you can still taste that cheap beer he's been drinking that's still lingering even though you've already been kissing previously.

you could kiss denki all night but he has other plans as he starts touching your breasts again and moves his hand down your body to get you ready for his cock, surprised to find that you're already wet. "wet from just a little kissing? that's so cute." he kisses your cheek and whispers against your ear.

"denki," you whine, "don't tease me."

he has to take a deep breath after hearing you whine, not wanting to let you know how bad you affect him because if you keep making noises like that he'll come in his boxers before he gets inside you. "it's okay love." he grinds himself against your thigh, groaning at the contact, letting you feel how hard he is. "i'm just the same." he says deeply and you shiver at the knowledge that denki is just as turned on as you. he's turned on by you.

his dick is almost painful with being contained in his jeans so he rushes to take them off. precome stains his grey boxers turning the area black and he takes them off too, grinning at you. the one way you would describe denki's dick is pretty, just like him so it makes sense. he's a little longer than average, circumcised and pubes trimmed. you want him inside you. now.

"do you have a- you know?" denki asks, gesturing to your bedside cabinet. he regrets not carrying any condoms in his pocket or wallet but his girlfriend only likes having sex in ones of their bedrooms. she's not a fan of spontaneous sex.

"oh, um, maybe? in the bathroom. i wasn't really expecting this and i don't- don't do this a lot... at all really." you admit, while trying to think about where you keep condoms because you must have them somewhere but you keep coming up a blank. the entire time denki's thinking about how you never do this, it makes him feel special, special that you're letting him make you feel good.

you want him... all of him. "i um-i-i'm on the pill." denki's eyes snap up to look at you.

"holy shit are you serious right now?" he asks automatically and enthusiastically, his face lighting up.

you start regretting your suggestion and denki can tell by the look on your face, he thinks he probably spooked you. "we don't need to do anything like that if you don't want to love. i can eat you out for hours. i mean hell, that sounds like at absolute dream." you giggle after hearing that. "sorry i was a bit quick and excited there, i've just never had sex without any rubber on."

you're surprised after hearing that, thinking that he's the type to go without and you tell him just that. "i think that was why i was so excited, i've always wanted too. it's always been a dream of mine and i don't like using them but i've never brought it up with any of the girls i've been with."

"well.. is it okay that i brought it up?" you ask more confident seeing that denki is delighted with the idea.

"fuck yeah. i trust you like crazy. if it was going to be anyone i'd want it to be you." he tells you, grinning. he trusts you. if he had the opportunity with anyone he'd choose you? your heart flutters.

"i don't really like condoms either and i want you, all of you." you tell him shyly and denki's heart misses a beat after your confession.

next thing you know denki is pushing his cock into, inch by inch. even though denki has already prepped you and has been touching you there is still a slight stretch. both you and denki groan simultaneously. your velvet, warm, wet walls welcome him without any barrier.

what comes out of denki next is a mixture of moans, groans, swearing and praising with each thrust. "fucking hell, holy shit sweetheart. you're fucking beautiful, most beautiful girl in the world, so pretty." with each praise and compliment every slight doubt that lingers in the back of your mind disappears, your sole focus being on the man above you. "you feel so good, lovely." he holds your hands in his, enlacing your fingers, that seems far too intimate for a supposedly one night stand to make you feel better.

he catches on to how to please you best with every gasp, noise and shake, and only after a couple minutes he seems to know your body better than you do. with every thrust he's rubbing against your g-spot, drawing circles over your clit and taking your nipple in his mouth.

you came harder than you ever came that night, multiple times with your ears going fuzzy and eyes going blurry. denki doesn't let you know but he's in the same boat, his come spilling into you, the warmth making you shudder and arch your back, grabbing onto him tightly. he's never came as much as he did and he knows that it's all because of you.

you don't know how it happened but denki ended up staying the night and leaving in the early hours of the morning. this wasn't how your night was suppose to go but you don't regret it. he did what he said he would when he arrived on your doorstep, he did make you feel better and he did make sure you didn't spend the night upset and feeling insecure and alone. that night was so shitty, his girlfriend was so shitty yet he succeeded in making it a good night.

when he came to your door you thought there was a silent understanding, a one night stand and after this he'll go back to his girlfriend. for that one night he'll be making up for what his girlfriend said but it didn't turn out like that.

you expected to not see denki for months, that is if you ever see him again. you expected to go back to calling him by his last name and trying to forget what he looks like nude and how his stomach went taunt as he was about to climax but instead you saw him a week after when he knocked on your door, slamming his lips against yours and pushing you against your wall. at least once a week for months now you would see him, you know you should feel bad for his girlfriend, he is cheating on her with you, but you don't, not in the slightest.

after the first few times denki came by again you slipped in some questions afterwards, wanting to know if he was doing this with other girls. he isn't.

wanting to know if you're still the only person he's slept with without wearing a condom. yes you are and he has no intention of changing that.

you've never asked him any questions involving morality like if he feels guilty or if he loves his girlfriend. it doesn't involve you.

you're aware now your relationship has developed more than it once was, the closest label you have would be friends with benefits. some nights denki knocks on your door unannounced, like always, with a bag of popcorn and your favourite snacks ready to watch a new film that has just come out on netflix. he's probably the closest friend you have, you stay clear of his girlfriend though, she isn't even aware that you and denki are close now. hopefully the last time she's spoken about you or thought about you was at that dreadful party and hopefully it stays that way.

denki likes his girlfriend... he does... if he was quoting mean girls he'd say something along the lines of - there's good and bad to everybody. but his girlfriend is just more upfront about it.

that would be a lie though. there are some things he likes about his girlfriend and when they're alone together it can be really good but he then remembers about how awful her attitude is towards other people. towards you. sneaking around and cheating on her is honestly rather thrilling for him and he likes the idea of silently letting you get your own back.

sometimes he'll rationalise it in his own head while he's drunk. cheating on her is okay because he's always wanted to sleep with you. it's okay because ever since you first met, denki wished you were his girlfriend.

he could never end it with his current girlfriend, his parents always ask about her and it would cause a rift in their friend group. near the beginning of their relationship his girlfriend brought herself a dog but he prefers denki over her, opting to want his attention over hers. if they did break up he knows he'd never see that dog again, he's grown to love it. it's just as much of his than it is hers but he knows that that won't matter and he'll never see him again if they broke up. they work next to each other and they go to all the same places.

he could never break up with her, he'd never hear the end of it with his parents.

so for now he gets to have some joy from getting to see you and kiss you and lay his head on your lap while you watch television together. if he tries hard enough he can almost imagine you're his girlfriend instead.

one night denki's at yours, you're not doing any explicit but you're just enjoying your night together, that is until she spoils it. denki's ringtone going off disrupts hot fuzz and he takes the call not even bothering to pause the movie. you decide to turn it down though. "kamiiiii, where are?" god her voice is grating. once a voice that spewed such nasty things about you now just sounds annoying. "i came by yours and you're not here."

denki closes his eyes shut tight, it looks to you that he's annoyed too. "sorry, i'm out tonight." he lies and know what is about to happen next.

"don't you want to see me. c'mon home, we can spend the night together." she giggles into the phone. you knew it. you knew what would happen when he answered that call from her.

denki knows he does't really have a choice without explaining where he is so he agrees to come see her. "okay, i'll be there soon." you both stay silent for a moment not talking before he breaks the silence. "i'm sorry love, we didn't even get to finish the film. i swear we can finish it next time." he apologises.

he thought he saw disappointment on your face for a second but he knows that he's just seeing things, you wouldn't be disappointed for him to go, you're not like that, he knows to you that he's just someone to fuck. he knows that you're using him to get back at his girlfriend. he doesn't mind that one bit though, as long as you're in his life.

"you can watch the rest without me if you wanted to." he tells you getting up from the sofa.

you shake your head, "no, no, it's fine. we can watch it next time. bye kaminari."

'oh no she's annoyed at me, she called me kaminari. she hasn't called me that in months. maybe she wanted to have sex tonight and i've ruined her plans. i can't stay now though, i'm already leaving. i'll have to make it up to her.'

you don't know why you called him kaminari, you knew it was petty but that didn't stop you from saying it. sometimes you get so caught up with denki you forget that outside of your home he isn't yours and he never will be. you're just sleeping together, that's all, and you don't want anything more than that... you don't...

denki thought about you all night, you never left his mind. he hates that he left you but he felt like he had no option. if he was anyone else he would have enough sense to distance himself from you but when it comes to you his judgement gets cloudy and he'll do whatever he can to be in your life, even if that involves lying through his teeth to everyone about where he is.

two nights after denki left after the phone call he came to yours with a takeaway in his hand and a grin on his face. he doesn't actually say the word 'sorry,' he doesn't acknowledge that he left abruptly, he just grins and asks "hot fuzz?"

you match his grin and let him in. you thought maybe you would be a little annoyed with denki after seeing him in your doorway but you realised that you had no right to be annoyed. you're not his girlfriend.

one takeaway and half a film after you're playing with denki's hair and he hums in happiness and gratitude. "i could have you play with my hair all night but do you want to take this to the bedroom love? i'm still pretty hungry." he takes your hands away from his head so he can kiss your wrist and winks at you. you roll your eyes and call him an idiot. "just for you sweetheart." it just came out and both of you heard. denki splutters and tries to backtrack what he said but it's too late, his whole entire face is red and his eyes are wide and you're doing no better. you haven't fully processed the words yet but you're sure it was accidental, it's just denki being denki. you turn your head away from him, nervous and embarrassed. your cheeks feel like they're on fire and you don't think you have the courage to look at him in the eye. even though you've talked yourself into how it was denki just being denki you still can't look at him.

the implications that he's yours makes you incredibly happy but you don't even want to accept that, after all you just see him as a friend. he's a good fuck. you're absolutely in denial. at least he isn't. he knows he wants you to be his, fully, completely, body and mind.

you both end up trying to ignore what he said, haphazardly but relatively successful, pivoting back to denki's offer of going to the bedroom. "denks are we taking this to the bedroom or not?"

'god she's amazing.' he's so glad you aren't acting weird.

denki's got his head between your plush thighs, he's holding onto them keeping them open so you don't close them and stop him. licking a strip along your pussy, before flicking your clit a few times with his tongue and then lapping up your juices as he plays with your breast and moaning at your taste. "denki, don't do that, it's embarrassing."

he looks up from where he's laying to see you, "what? enjoy myself. don't complain or i won't let you come."

the threat of not being allowed an orgasm shuts you up, knowing that denki will absolutely deliver on that threat if he wants to. you know that he would eat you out for hours not letting your come once.

you loose track of time, your hips start rolling uncontrollably and you grab hold of his hair. "don't get greedy sweetheart, you'll come when i say you can." he holds down your thighs to stop you from moving and kisses your hip, sucking to form a mark on your soft skin. his mark.

for all his threats he does let you come. "you've been so behaved. so good sweetheart," he mumbles against your skin. you come again and again. he finally lets up and you watch him lick his lips and wink at you. you turn your head away from him and he chuckles. his erection is visible even with his jeans on and denki flops down on the bed next to you, drawing you closer so you're laying next to each other, his arm under you.

reaching down to his jeans you start stroking him through his clothes. "don't worry about that, not tonight. i just wanted to look after you, make you feel good." he places a chaste kiss on you forehead.

"you always make me feel good," you tell him honestly and his heart feels like it's beating out of his chest.

"then my work here is done." he replies and you giggle. he is completely and utterly in love with you.

he can't tell you, no matter how much he wants to. you don't feel the same way and he can't lose you.

how much longer will you stay in denial for?

will his girlfriend ever find out about you two? maybe that will be your tipping point. maybe her finding out will make you realise that you want denki more than a quick fuck or a friend. maybe her finding out will be what you need. you're in love with denki.

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sushicha · 2 years

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Let's be better about Shourtney/Shartney

Borrowing this Shourtney/Shartney rant from my IG! I originally made this when the evidence got super clear, and I was scared the ship was about to explode in popularity and people were gonna freak out 😬 that hasn't necessarily happened (yet), but I still want the advice out there:

This is kind of a semi-rant and word of caution about the shipping of Shayne and Courtney. Tumblr and IG are pretty much the only two places to talk about this.

So if you've been following the Shourtney hashtag on IG, or have seen evidence here on Tumblr, it's becoming increasingly clear that Shayne and Courtney are dating. With what's been brought to light, it's fairly certain.

I'm the first to admit that I've shipped these two for a while and that I was always curiously looking for proof. There wasn't much evidence prior to 2021, so that's likely around when they started actually dating. Even as the evidence was really pouring in and some of it was kinda stalkerish, I was still morbidly curious, and I know a lot of you did the same. Guilty as charged, I'm a lonely hoe... 😔

I'll start by saying the evidence is NOT from videos. I know a lot of you have tried to use their gazes and interactions in Smosh videos as "proof" for years, but body language is not evidence. There's a million ways to interpret a "gaze" or how they talk to and interact with each other. Courtney especially has that type of aura about her where she's very comforting and has great chemistry with others, so what people interpret as "flirting" is just her normal friendly behavior (it's very reminiscent of how men will sometimes misinterpret women just being nice to them as "flirting"). And despite the fact that they're likely in a relationship, nothing about how they interact now is tangibly different than previous years. They're professionals, they're actors, and Smosh is very self-aware that Shourtney drives up viewer engagement, so there's no doubt they've played it up at times.

But... regardless of how little evidence there is in videos, there's other stuff out there which makes it safe to say they're dating. Look for it yourself, I'll no longer be sharing that info.

To me, it appears like it's more of an "open secret" at this point, like a "if you know, you know" type thing. Courtney is more comfortable posting pictures in Shayne's clothes, Courtney's vlogging in their apartment now... I feel like they're at least at peace with the fact that SOME of us know, especially because the Shourtney fandom is still pretty underground and not a lot of people have seen the harder evidence.

Some might be asking, then, why don't they just go public and get it over with??? Damaige did, so why not them???

Why WOULD they, is the real question?

Public relationships are so complicated. All semblance of real privacy vanishes. Everyone suddenly has some opinion on your relationship. People still analyze the shit out of your body language. People still attribute the woman or fem-presenting person's success to the man. People become entitled to personal information. If you guys breakup, people make wild assumptions and take sides. It becomes a breeding ground for the worst aspects of parasocial behavior. Public relationships sound like a complete nightmare. Having to ignore all of the problematic comments while constantly looking over your shoulder sounds like a complete nightmare. People wanna live their lives privately and be known for their personal accomplishments and skills, not their relationship. Shayne and Courtney are both talented individuals BY THEMSELVES.

They have both expressed in videos and podcasts that neither want to have public relationships. They almost always go bad.

But the unfortunate reality is that their relationship being "exposed", even if it's at a relatively small scale, has been seemingly against their will. While Courtney said in a recent Q&A what she posts is intentional, that might not be the case for friends who accidentally exposed Shourtney. It must suck to have to be so careful about what you post and with who, especially at large parties and whatnot. So much is out of your control. Like, who the fuck wants to closely analyze reflections in windows and shit? Or have to tell someone you might barely know not to post a picture of you two?

Maybe they'll address it at some point. Maybe they won't. Making the comparison to Damien and Saige was always completely unfair because Damaige going public was their own personal decision. Shayne and Courtney are completely different people and may have a different line of thinking on the matter. That's not to mention, Saige has expressed a few times on her Twitch that she regrets going public with her relationship and it only made weird incels attribute her successes to Damien even more.

So what should the fans do???

Not be fucking assholes and creeps. Not be misogynistic. Call out assholish, creepy, misogynistic behavior. Not make wild speculations, or become entitled to their personal lives. Don't send Shayne or Courtney (or anyone they know) weird DM's about it. That type of thing. Keep it chill, talk among us Shourtney stans if you must, and live your fucking life, man. Find your own relationship 😅

I know most of the Shourtney stans have been pretty respectful, all things considered. A few bad apples, stalkers, etc. But whatever weird shit that happened on that (now shutdown) Shourtney Discord server should stay in digital hell.

Shayne and Courtney are gonna share what they wanna share. I make this post foreseeing that they may eventually feel the need to say something, but if I'm wrong and they say absolutely nothing, so be it. They've both said shipping is okay because it's content and mostly harmless, but clearly there's a line. And if you see someone crossing it, call them out!

That's all 🙏 I probably won't post much Shourtney content from here on out, but I'll be around. Feel free to discuss it or ask me stuff. ☺️

#shourtney #shartney

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manaboook · 2 years

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Why is philosophy important?

It is not. The time of philosophy has already passed. We are not living in Antiquity to delude our minds with mythological ideas and cases, nor are we in the Middle Ages trying to understand God. We are in the 21st century, the century of technology and science, and if we have to do anything, it is to try to develop them and discover another billion useful and practical things for our day-to-day.

I don't see how a new way of philosophizing is going to cure the next cancer patient while science has at least, been trying to do that for a long time with some success. Reorient yourself - we don't need more philosophers, we need scientists. Someone once said that "philosophy is a dead science". I don't know whether the philosophers of today if they can be called that at all, have anything more to say about the world. What has remained uncommented on? What Kant, Hegel, Aristotle, Plato and all the others have not already said?

Philosophy itself was born in the era most suitable for it, namely in Antiquity where magic and the words of the gods characterized our conception of it. That subsequently dictated the moral, divine, ethical, aesthetic and rules of life.

The intellect of men was not as developed or ‘’concretized’’ as it is now, and that is why they were content enough with whatever inspiration they received from the "queen of philosophy," the word of nature, of the gods, of the Ubermensch, or what whatever they called it later on.

Now we no longer have the ‘’moral license’’ nor the idle time to be philosophers. Life is too busy and preoccupied to believe those new pseudo-philosophers. For they have hardly devoted a lifetime to writing about ethics or the value of things to teach us something more than those that did.

We can see that even philosophy and the new philosophies have merely become a method of extra profit. But to be fair that is how you survive in the capitalist world. Let us let philosophy find itself as it has been bequeathed to us, and not tire it with extra volumes and volumes of gibberish books.

Only a typical, self-absorbed representative of this century would express such an opinion. I do not believe that anyone can be so blind and so brazenly deny science and the way in which it was and is continued to be glorified.

The meaning of philosophy can be understood in many different ways. Everyone is entitled to be a stoic, a sceptic, or a positivist and to defend their point of view and its significance, but crucially the fact is that this perceived significance exists.

Philosophy has given a start to human reasoning and wandering in the wilderness of the incomprehensible and the unknown. It has prompted the ongoing search for answers. She was the original mother of every emerging science. Without it, mathematics, medicine, religion, physics, chemistry, and astrology, i.e. could not have manifested. Philosophy is the beginning of it all and as such, it deserves universal recognition. It is incorrect to think that it is a dead science because in each new era philosophy has taken up the most important and difficult problems of society. She is the frameworks of thought encompassing all frameworks of thought.

It is the same in our technological and "developed" age, only in it can we find reassurance, only it can give us answers to the millions of questions and problems that have arisen, either through the wisdom accumulated over the centuries or through the new methods introduced by our conscious experience. But they can only provide context, a flesh to our overarching idea of the world, our philosophy. Scientific thought is too limiting for us sentients, moreover, it is an unnatural way of thought because it is impersonal and we interpret the world for ourselves exclusively.

The meaning of philosophy is as strong as it was when it emerged (perhaps even more so). I take philosophy as a kind of religion - like Christianity, like Islam, it itself preaches no less goodness and useful paths to follow (with the difference that it retains its meaning over the centuries and does not become, like most religions, a manipulation, stagnant scheme ). It fills our mind and spirit with everything it needs so that it does not get lost in the multitude of false teachings that become more and more prominent now within this commercial world.

With her restlessness to characterize the world, she gives peace to people. It organizes the messy and fragmentary knowledge we have been accumulating in our heads and gives it a structure, a context to inhabit.

It is normal that the deep meaning of philosophy is not known to everyone. However, not everyone has an alert mind and a restless soul. Namely, this is what is needed to discover the meaning of something.

Find out about our mission: Manabook.org

#culture #books & libraries #philosophy #thoughts #reason #long reads #greek culture #greek mythology

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seb-owns-these-tatas · 3 years

Text

7th Dimension (Masterlist) (Multi-Chapter Fic)

THIS IS AN X READER FANFIC WHO HAS BEEN BROUGHT TO THE DIMENSION OF JUJUTSU KAISEN

PUBLISHED: FEBRUARY 15, 2022. This can also be found in Wattpad and future chapters will be updated there first. You can find this book with the link here.

UPDATE: CURRENTLY ONGOING

MASTERLIST FOR OTHER FANDOMS

Characters: Gojo Satoru x Small!Naive!Fem!Foreign!Reader

Synopsis: She was known to be a daydreamer. A Walter Mitty. A fantasizer or maybe, a little too much more than that if she was being honest. With a life that shaped her into becoming weary and debilitated, setting one's eyes on a non-existent world that could bring her nothing but death and anxiety would be vast and perhaps a quixotic dream if she was brought in during the life she was currently existing in right now, seeing it as completely futile to begin with.

The world of Jujutsu Sorcery.

Strange to hear by people who knew nothing of the particular series, but exciting to those who actually comprehends.

It didn't help the fact that she was obsessed with a relatable manga or anime entitled Jujutsu Kaisen and a draining life back in earth that made the whole series her comfort zone or in other words, her hidden 'refuge'.

It was the only one that could keep her calm and stable.

What if the genie finally gives in to her commands, her thoughtless wishes just like what the others did? Yet, with an unfortunate fate just like theirs?

A woeful pattern of life that has always been the inevitable.

Being in-love with fictional men and adapting to their lifestyles or dimensions wouldn't bring anything but despair.

Especially, this time---she was bringing evidences of the past and the future of the man she has been smitten with back in earth. A fictional man who she adored, yet people laugh at her about.

As luck would have it, this man was the strongest sorcerer alive in his world. The one and only.

But, life made it seem like she was stronger when she had all the chances of knowing what could happen to everyone in the future which could include eternal rest and surreptitious schemes.

Everything would be a dilemma to her. Howbeit, to Gojo Satoru, it was betting on the odds that it might happen or not.

As long as she gets to remember.

The problem was that, the first time he met her has not been entirely the real her from the start as it was another woman who appeared to be a facsimile---a thorough replica of her physical aspects through another outlandish dimension.

Which can be more of a traumatic experience?

Was it to remember or to forget?

Warnings: This is rated M. Why? I mean, is anybody complaining though? *smirks* Do y'all want no smut in the future? I-I mean---Yeah. Details about blood, injuries or such might be expressed soon enough. Though, I'm having quite a difficult time understanding everyone's abilities, how curse energy is being used versus curse technique that I had to rewatch JJK over and over again, I'll try my best to be detailed where no readers will be left behind or would go 'what the hell is happening',

There will be eventual Smut, I hope. Hehe. Which is why I've rated this book as mature. Mutual Pining. ANGST. Kind of a slowburn. Gojo and his menace self. (I needed to include that in the warnings, right?)

2ND MAJOR WARNING: THERE WILL BE MANGA SPOILERS. The reader has basically already watched the anime and read the manga in this fanfic. This is a major alert because it's a MAJOR part of the plot. You'll understand why when you reach deeper in the story.

Important disclaimer and reminder (Please do read):

This is quite connected (but not entirely) to the series I'm currently writing as of the moment. It's named 'Witcher of the Night' and it's set in the world of The Witcher (Netflix Series). It has 30 chapters now and I'm working on 31. It also has the same X reader or X You vibes. No OC. (I apologize to those who hate the x you vibes) But, to the people who already know how I write, It's probably weird to the point that they're used to it?

To the new readers, you can take a peek at Witcher of the Night to see the truth. Hehehe.

Though, before you start reading this fanfic of mine for the world of Jujutsu Kaisen or Gojo Satoru himself, I'll be explaining it first to retrieve any confusion for y'all.

Think of my current fanfic books as a multi-verse. This fanfic can somehow serve as a slight major spoiler for my other book. I don't know how I reached to this point where I tried connecting both fanfics. If you love 'the witcher' and also 'Jujutsu Kaisen' then you'll be getting the best of both worlds.

There will be no differences (I suppose), if you only want to read this fanfic. The only thing that connects both of this fanfic together would be the special chapter I'm writing for Gojo's gatecrashing moment in that particular fanfic book of mine. (The special chapter is currently not published yet)

Think of it that you have multiple people looking like you but living in different souls and moments which is why you look familiar to him because he has already met a Doppleganger of you but from a different dimension. (Which is from the dimension of 'The Witcher')

I'll be including a picture to explain it further. This is it. It can be like this.

But, not entirely that because I'm not letting Y/N meet all together because I'm too dumb to explain that. 🤣

I'm not fond of using the Y/N a lot unless needed. You'll be having a nickname prepared for you just as how Geralt of Rivia in my Witcher of the Night series calls you 'Midget'.

If I say you'll be teleported with no abilities, there will definitely be NO abilities. Imagine you've basically been teleported right now from earth and to the world of Jujutsu Kaisen.

We'll live! I swear, I'll try my best that we don't die on chapter 1?

Hehehe. Yeah, we'll probably die in an instant by them, curses.

But, Gojo Satoru probably wouldn't let that happen considering he's the main love interest in this? I think? or maybe he would?

Anyways...

Unfortunately, and I just wanna say it again that the special chapter where Satoru will be getting to meet you in the Witcher verse isn't done yet. (I'm currently working on writing future chapters for this fanfic first so I have some chapters ready for publishing) But, I'll probably post the special chapter in this fanfic book once I'm done with it.

Credits go to Gege Akutami for Jujutsu Kaisen. The only thing I own here is the plot I created or the fanfic itself.

HEARTS, COMMENTS and REBLOGS IN BETWEEN CHAPTERS OR PAGES WILL SURELY BE APPRECIATED AS WELL! THANK YOU, BUCKLE YOUR SEATBELTS AND ENJOY THE RIDE!

CHAPTER 1

CHAPTER 2

CHAPTER 2.1

CHAPTER 3

CHAPTER 3.1

CHAPTER 4

CHAPTER 4.1

CHAPTER 4.2

CHAPTER 5

CHAPTER 5.1

CHAPTER 6

CHAPTER 7

CHAPTER 7.1

CHAPTER 7.2

CHAPTER 7.3

CHAPTER 7.4

CHAPTER 7.5

CHAPTER 7.6

CHAPTER 7.7

CHAPTER 7.8

CHAPTER 7.9

CHAPTER 8

CHAPTER 8.1

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isagisyoichi · 3 years

Text

PINKY STAR (RUN) :｡･:*:･ﾟ’★,｡･:*:･ﾟ’☆

SYNOPSIS: isagi as your boyfriend

CHARACTERS INCLUDED: isagi yoichi my boyfriend of many several years

WARNINGS: swearing? i think idk i forget also yah pretend they all go to the same school and stuff. also horribly self indulgent if u couldn't already tell

A/N: if you remember my old one delete it from your memory it was literally so bad help anyways the re-up because my boyfriend deserves better. also i really like this one and i feel like it’s more in character for him :P lol i've had this in my drafts for like, ever <3 but also my last post for a while because i have ap exams and my sat soon :P

FOR: the anon that asked me where my original isagi bf hcs went :’)

after the initial awkwardness of being in a new relationship fades and you two become comfortable with each other, a relationship with isagi would be like dating your slightly awkward best friend who you make out with sometimes.

like, i don’t really see isagi being high maintenance, so i feel like a relationship with him would definitely be on the relaxed side, but still romantic, you know?

isagi’s inner monologue is so funny and he definitely lets his thoughts out to you. it makes you laugh to see your usually friendly-to-all boyfriend have his moments, too.

you guys are one of those couples that give each other a look when someone’s doing something weird in public #telepathicconnection <3

but, isagi’s really such a sweetie with you. i know user isagisyoichi may be slightly biased when they say this, but believe me when i say that isagi’s 100% boyfriend material.

walks you to class whenever he can. always either holding your hand as he listens attentively to you complaining about school.

writes down things he feels are important about you in a digital note entitled “y/n 💗,” so he can remember them in the future.

isagi's used to talking to all kinds of people, so even if you're not the most talkative, he can adjust with no problem.

and he’ll always entertain you about whatever stupid conversation you wanna have.

kinda basic with pet names. babe, baby, dork (he would, i don’t wanna hear it), are his usual rotation.

randomly compliments you/says these really romantic things out of nowhere because he can’t control himself and often blurts things out.

“yeah, of course, when we get married, i’ll-”

“when we get married?” you inquire as you cut isagi off. you two have never discussed marriage, just but the thought of isagi wanting to spend the rest of his life with you is enough to make your head spin.

isagi’s eyes go wide when he realizes what he’s said. damn his mouth that moves faster than his mind.

swallowing hard and taking a breath, isagi says, “y-yeah, when we get married,” further affirming his statement with a nod, albeit a bit of a nervous one.

now both of you guys are flustered LOL.

likes to sit his head in your lap and have you play with his hair, while you two talk or just sit in silence.

such a good listener, perfect person to rant about anything with. he’s very understanding, he’ll hold you if you need him to, wipe your tears if you’re crying, give you advice if you need it, just overall so sweet.

also always knows when you're sad because of his intuition. isagi encourages you to open up to him, but ultimately doesn’t force you, just lets you know that he’s always there for you <3

(that's kind of lie because isagi does pry a little LOL, but he means well)

takes care of you! nags you a little, tries his best to make sure you're not doing anything stupid, and if you are, that someone responsible (him) is watching you, looks after you when you’re sick, etc.

gives you his jacket when you’re cold (he’s been waiting to do that his whole life bro LMAOO), carries your things, always texts you good morning and good night, just overall sooo good to you.

but as soft as he is for you, isagi does have this tendency to get these random spouts of confidence, so sometimes he’ll say or do something really bold out of nowhere.

like, he’ll suddenly grab your waist and pull you closer to him, or he’ll kiss you out of the blue. the flustered expression that rests on your face for a change always makes him smirk *heart eyes*

in general, though, isagi's still kind of awkward sometimes regardless and does say or do things that make you go "???" and make him be like "why did i do that" LOL he's so cute though <333

he’s pretty basic with dates, usually opts for things like restaurants, walks in the parks, movie nights, or stuff like that, but they’re still really fun!

but, if you ever want to do something out of the norm, he wouldn't be opposed to it, either. but, you do have to tell him ‘cause he's not a mind reader lol.

(okay but, one time, isagi tried to watch a scary movie with you because he wanted to do that thing where he wraps his arm around you during the scary parts, but HE ended up being scared instead 😭)

isagi’s the type to put your name with a heart emoji or the date you guys started dating in his instagram bio LOL

y/n 💓 IHS Forward #10 ⚽️ *insert some soccer quote about grinding*

it’s a bit middle school, but you let it slide because you know he just wants to show you off <3

study sessions are normal between you two but, you guys always get bored or distracted halfway through and start watching youtube or something LOL.

it’s canon he’s a thigh man lol, so if he ever sees you wearing an oversized shirt, especially one of his, with shorts, isagi will literally short circuit in real life.

he keeps his hand on your thigh when you guys cuddle that day, tracing patterns on your skin, or just squeezing it every now and then.

in general, though, isagi likes poking at and playing with them whenever they're out <3

once, isagi wanted you to do that trend on tiktok where he sits between your thighs and stuff, but he had no idea how to bring it up LOL

so, isagi just watched tiktoks of it in front of you and hoped eventually you would get the hint 🙄

and you did, thanks to his incredible lack of subtly. he doesn’t even care when you giggle and tell him how bad he is at being slick, isagi got your thighs around him, he won!!!!!!

takes a picture (or two or three) to savor the moment.

(even though he could literally just ask you to do it again in the future, but whatever, i guess)

when you’re dating isagi, the team comes with him too LOL

they’re always snapchatting you pictures of isagi when they’re hanging out without you, with stupid captions like, “look how sad your boyfriend is without you 😞”

isagi’s not even sad in the picture, he’s just confused as to why they’re shoving a camera in his face 😭

isagi one hundred percent attempts to get you to run the mile with him during gym if you don’t already.

“babe, just try!” isagi pants, as he catches up to you and your friends, as you guys are still on your second lap.

admittedly, the effort is cute, but beloved, i hate to break it to you- i will not be doing anything of the sort.

he will sit down or walk around with you after you finish the mile, though. if he’s not already playing soccer lollll.

when he does choose to go with you, expect exclamations from the team about how isagi “abandoned us for his little relationship” 👎

isagi’s receiving love language is words of affirmation (also basically canon LOL) so, he really values the compliments you give him with his whole heart.

you could tell him how his hair looks nice in the morning, and isagi will think about it all day.

whether it be about how cute he is, or how talented of a player he is, isagi really is happiest when you praise him <3

speaking of soccer, isagi has this tendency to get lost in the moment and talk your head off about some soccer related tangent that probably makes no sense to you.

his eyes light up and his voice is just oozing with passion for what he does as he goes into detail about how he made this crazy goal at practice while you stare at him with the biggest heart eyes ever, adoring his dedication.

and of course when isagi realizes he was rambling, he apologizes profusely for “boring” you, like the gentleman he is.

but when you reassure him that he could never bore you and that you want nothing more than for him to go on, isagi begins to feels lightheaded due to his adoration for you <3

if you're the type to go all out when it supporting isagi at soccer- like make one of those corny signs, yell from the crowd, wear his spare jersey to games, isagi will physically have to withhold his heart from jumping out his chest.

he's a little embarrassed that you're doing all that for him, but the effort means soooo much to him.

and speaking of soccer, it would mean a lot to isagi if you not only supported him at games and stuff, but expressed an interest in learning more about soccer as a whole, too.

you know, learn a little more about the game on your own accord, ask him to teach you how to properly play, or even challenge him to a one on one, do stuff like that, and he’ll literally be head over heels for you. well, more than he already is.

(he always goes easy on you on your guys 1v1's and he thinks your efforts are adorable, no matter how much you may or may not suck)

he'd repay the effort and try to get interested in whatever your hobbies are!

also, you can get him to do almost anything if you pout and beg hard enough, you’re literally so hard to say no to in isagi’s eyes <3

isagi’s the type to not realize when other people are flirting with him LOL

he just thinks they’re being nice (unless they’re being straight up) and i don’t think he would really process it because he’s so focused on you romantically, if that makes sense.

once he realizes you’re jealous, isagi apologizes earnestly, reassuring you over and over again that you're everything he could ask for and that he would never intentionally try to hurt you and all that jazz.

although, i will admit, sometimes isagi’s kinda smug when you're jealous, especially when it’s over a dumb reason 👎

however, when he’s jealous i feel like it could go one of two ways-

on normal days, isagi would just stand there to “intimidate” the other person, maybe cough a little for emphasis until they go away lol.

but on days where he’s already mad/filled with adrenaline/or someone’s really not taking a hint and you’re visibly uncomfortable- oh boy, it’s like a switch flips in him.

has those same fiery eyes he has during the climax of a game. the energy he’s exuding is dead serious, and that alone is enough for the person bothering you to go away. not bad for a man that’s only 5’8 🥰

adding on, isagi doesn’t take any shit about you, ever. even if it’s from his friends. usually isagi’s very neutral and doesn’t actively try to start conflict, but there are some things he’ll always defend and you’re one of them.

isagi always listens/watches/reads/etc whatever you recommend him (on that note, please recommend him good anime because isagi’s out here willingly telling people his favorite anime is darling in the franxx), even if he doesn’t necessarily like it LOL

you could show isagi objectively, the worst song ever and he would be like “yeah, it was good babe!” (it was not)

also does the same thing when you bring him shopping with you, like he's absolutely NO HELP 😭

you could try on the ugliest sweater known to man and he’d like “you look nice 🙂” pls be honest isagi, you can say it’s hideous!!!!!!

but isagi’s also being somewhat truthful in his statement because he does genuinely think you look nice in everything <3

also loves when you wear his clothes- always feels a mixture between pride and slight shyness?

kinda lol idk but overall, isagi really is sooo happy you wanna show him off that much, especially when you're wearing something of his around his friends :')

he says “i love you” first, no doubt.

he’s a bit nervous when he does because he doesn’t know if you’ll reciprocate, but he really does love you and he feels like he physically can’t hold it in anymore.

“i promise you don’t have to say it back!” isagi reassures anxiously. “i know it’s a really big commitment, and if it’s too early for you right now-”

“i love you, too.”

#queued #blue lock #bllk #blue lock x reader #bllk x reader #blue lock headcanons #bllk headcanons #isagi yoichi #isagi #isagi blue lock #isagi x reader #isagi yoichi x reader #isagi headcanons #isagi fluff #isagi imagine

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aspoonofsugar · 3 years

Text

Ironwood and Cinder: The Final Word

Cinder: And that’s… checkmate.

The Final Word of the volume is Cinder’s and it is meaningful she says it to Ironwood.

As a matter of fact Ironwood and Cinder are two sides of the same coin on many levels. This is conveyed also structurally.

Volume 7 is mostly about Ironwood’s tragic spiral. We are shown him struggle with his flaw throughout the whole volume, but in the end he loses to it and becomes just as dangerous as Salem:

Oscar: Then you're as dangerous as she is, James.

Not only does volume 8 close with Cinder instead, but it also opens with her:

And it even gives us her backstory:

Why does it happen? And why is Cinder’s final line so important when it comes to her foiling with Ironwood?

GRAVITY

It is not by chance that Watts calls both Ironwood and Cinder out before the climax of respectively volume 7 (Ironwood) and volume 8 (Cinder). This is because, as stated above, volume 7 is Ironwood’s volume, while volume 8 is Cinder’s. So they both are confronted with a truth about themselves and their reaction to it influences their stories in the Atlas arc.

In a sense, even if Watts is the one dangerously hanging over an abyss... it is actually Ironwood and Cinder who are on the brink. They are deciding Watts’s survival, but they are also deciding their own destiny.

They are choosing if to fall because of gravity or if to fly in the sky victorious.

At the same time, the two scenes with Watts show how Cinder and Ironwood are both similar and opposites.

AS ABOVE, SO BELOW

Ironwood and Cinder are nothing, but two products of Atlas’s society.

Ironwood was born at the very top:

Watts: You just stood atop it and called yourself a giant!

Cinder existed at the very bottom:

Watts: You think you're entitled to everything just because you've suffered, but suffering isn't enough! You can't just be strong, you have to be smart! You can't just be deserving, you have to be worthy! But all you have ever been, is a BLOODY MIGRAINE!

Watts is in the middle and he represents the worst traits of both.

He wants everything, just like Cinder:

Ironwood: I gave you everything you could have wanted!

But differently from Cinder it was no true he had nothing. He was successful, had food, clothes and respect. Still, he was never satisfied and ended up disgracing himself in the search of something more.

He also disregards feelings in favor of rationality, just like Ironwood:

Watts: Our tin soldier’s heart has cost him his mind.

And he sees people under him as inherently inferior:

Watts: Yes, yes, please keep your posse in check.

This is why his death is fitting:

Cinder: I merely added more flames to the fires of Atlas.

He burns with Atlas aka the city he wants to destroy, but also a symbol of who he is deep down.

What is more, his death happens specifically because he blindly follows his wishes:

Watts: Oh, believe me, this is everything I've ever wanted.

And because he is outsmarted and manipulated by Cinder:

Cinder: You deserve this, Arthur. We'll be back.

He is proud of his genius and rationality, but in the end he dies because of his feelings of pettiness.

In short, Watts, Cinder and Ironwood represent three social classes of Atlas and how the system corrupts people at every level. In general, all three want to be at the very top, but disreguard and mistreat the ones below.

-This is why Ironwood seeks control even in situations where he is not in charge, like the Vytal Festival. He also challenges Ozpin’s authority and leadership because he is not used not to be the one deciding. At the same time, he is shown ready to discard Mantle in multiple occasions.

-This is why Watts can call out Ironwood’s arrogance without seeing he is exactly the same as him.

-Finally, this is why Cinder lashes out at people she sees as Atlas elites (the Schnees, Ironwood, Watts), but treats those below her just like she was treated:

Emerald: We don't need him! Everything was going fine! (a slap is heard, and she cries out in pain)

Cinder: Do not mistake your place.

Mercury: Oh yeah? Tell that to--

Cinder: Quiet.

THE ENEMIES OF TRUST

Both Ironwood and Cinder’s left arms are artificial. Ironwood’s is mechanical, while Cinder’s is Grimm.

Their respective arms convey opposite approaches to things.

On a more general level, they are respectively linked to Creation (Ironwood’s mechanical arm) and to Destruction (Cinder’s Grimm arm). As a matter of fact a robotic arm is a human creation, while Grimms are nothing, but the symbol of destruction.

On a personal level, their arms hint at the two characters’ opposite personalities.

Ironwood’s arm can’t feel pain.

Cinder’s is instead linked to pain and feelings in different ways:

Raven: Aura can't protect your arm, it's Grimm.

Salem: You chose to disobey my specific instructions just to fail again.

Cinder: She’s back…

Cinder feels great pain whenever her Shadow Hand is cut because she can’t protect it with aura. At the same time, it is used by Salem to torture her. Finally, it links her to Salem to the point that she knows when her Master is back.

In other words, Cinder’s arm lets her feel more, while Ironwood’s lets him feel less.

This difference is mirrored by both the ways Ironwood and Cinder respectively attack Watts and by their semblances:

Ironwood’s Mettle lets Ironwood suppress his own feelings, so that he can pursue any objective, no matter how cruel or immoral it is. It makes him “superhuman”, but in a very negative sense.

Cinder’s Scorching Caress represents Cinder’s explosive emotions. It is a form of self-expression, which is both destructive and self-destructive.

Ironwood’s semblance is about repression, while Cinder’s is about lashing out.

Similarly, Ironwood goes after Watts at the cost of his arm and he ignores the pain he feels:

Watts: I wouldn't do that if I were you. I mean, unless you're hoping to add more metal to that body of yours.

Cinder instead goes after Watts to vent her anger:

Cinder: What do you mean, she'll destroy herself? How am I supposed to take her power if she's dead?!

Both are extremes and both are wrong, as Winter explains:

Winter: But yes Penny, we must still acknowledge our personal feelings, wrestle with them. It ensures us that we’re on the right path. It’s what makes us human.

Ironwood and Cinder should aknowledge their own feelings not to be consumed by them. It is also the only way for them to truly be humans, not machines or monsters, but simply people.

Both characters almost succeed just before the climax of their respective volumes.

Ironwood tries to open up to others:

And Cinder shows vulnerability:

However, none of them is able to capitalize on this chance for development. This is ironically because of each other:

Cinder messes with Ironwood’s insecurities, while Ironwood’s ultimatum gives Cinder the perfect chance to ignore hers.

The result is that Ironwood goes back to control, while Cinder goes back to manipulation. Both do so because they are unable to trust.

Interestingly, they take after their respective mentors in this.

Ironwood takes after Ozpin:

Ironwood: Did you really think you were the only one who got to work on a new plan after Beacon? WIth Ozpin gone, I needed my own team of people I could trust.

Oscar: General? Earlier, you asked for my advice.

Ironwood: I wanted Ozpin's advice.

Oscar: And his advice probably would've been to keep your secrets.

Cinder takes after Salem:

Salem: When I chose you as my vessel for the Maidens, I put my trust in you. So, I trust that you wouldn’t possibly return to me empty-handed.

Ironwood’s whole struggle in volume 7 is his search for a “new approach”. He wants to be like Ozpin, but better. This is why he founds his own group, but wants to trust the world with the truth about Salem. However, he confuses trust with control.

Cinder instead wants to become just like Salem and suffers when she sees she is not. This is why she collects assets, just like her master. This is also why she does not trust anyone, but manipulates others.

That said, what is the difference between Ironwood’s control and Cinder’s manipulation? It has once again to do with feelings.

Ironwood’s attempt to manipulate others is about suppressing feelings. He uses Atlas’s military hierarchy and social structures to ask for his subordinates’ blind loyalty.

Cinder’s method to control people lies instead in making use of others’ feelings. She uses both wishes and fears to her advantage.

In short, control and manipulation are nothing, but the same inability to trust declined in opposite ways. They are both “enemies of trust”.

This is why both Ironwood and Cinder find a strong enemy and a foil in the character, who embodies friendship in these volumes:

Deep down, Ironwood and Cinder not trusting others is because they fear betrayal:

Cinder: I won’t have to run now.

Rhodes: That’s all you’ll ever do.

Ironwood: I've chased a lot of shadows over the years, always expecting betrayal. But never once did I think it would ever come from you.

However, Penny too is betrayed and mistreated by others:

Penny: I do not like it when friends fight.

Ruby: I know. Yang and I may not agree on how best to save Mantle but-

Penny: No. I mean Winter. The general. They were our friends. But then the Ace Ops attacked you. And the general, he said people were going to die, because of me.

However, she does not give up on the ideal of a genuine bond:

Attached but not By strings

Still, if Penny is a positive foil to both Ironwood and Cinder, why does she die?

RISK

Weiss: Trust is a risk.

Yang: Ruby, they’re not called sure things, they’re called risks.

These two lines taken together are why at the end of volume 8 Penny dies, our heroes fall and the manipulative Cinder wins.

It happens to show the main theme of the two Atlas volumes. Trust is not a “sure thing”. It is a risk and it does not always work. Still, it is necessary to trust as it is necessary to take risks:

Yang: You were being optimistic. Look, blind optimism isn’t great, but no optimism means we already lost. We need hope. We need to take risks.

Giving up on trust and risks means giving up on hope. It means to give in to fear.

Still, this does not mean your trust will always be paid back. And it does not mean that the risks you take will always work, even if you come up with a wonderful plan:

Cinder: I knew your plan would be bold, but I never could have predicted all of this...

Sometimes people will betray you:

Sometimes your risk will end up in a fall:

However, it is still worth to trust, even when you have no guarantee it will work:

And sometimes It is even worth to risk the fall because it may lead to people being saved:

This same idea is conveyed also through Penny’s final choice:

Penny: Trust me.

Winter: Thank you for trusting me with this.

Penny dies tragically, but she still manages to pass the Maiden’s power to a person she trusts.

This is especially meaningful because the Winter Maiden power, just like Penny herself, has been subjected to both control and manipulation.

Ironwood does all he can to make sure the power ends up to Winter. At the same time, he is the one most responsible for Penny feeling as nothing, but a robot:

Ironwood: As the official report stated, that footage was doctored. Penny is completely under my control.

Cinder tries to steal the power three times. She also manipulates Penny’s feelings towards her friends:

Cinder: I was hoping your friends would be here. But it looks like they left you to do all the work. You’re just a tool to be used!

In the end, Ironwood treating Penny as a machine (control) and Cinder using Penny’s love for her friends against her (manipulation) are among the psychological factors that lead Penny to be mortally wounded by Cinder.

Still, while dying Penny negates both Ironwood and Cinder and frees the power and herself from both control and manipulation.

The fact she chooses Winter works well to illustrate this.

Winter is the person Ironwood wants as the next Maiden. However, Winter becomes a Maiden not because of Ironwood’s control, but because of Penny’s trust:

Ironwood: So… the destiny I chose for you has arrived.

Winter: You chose nothing. This...was a gift.

Winter is a Schnee, so she represents both what Cinder hates and what she herself wants to be:

Cinder to Winter: You Atlas elites are all the same! You think hoarding power means you’ll have it forever, but it just makes the rest of us hungrier.

Winter is a symbol of Atlas and so she is a reminder to Cinder that Atlas is not really destroyed:

Robyn: What do you think a kingdom is? The people, or just the chunk of land they live on?

Just like Cinder’s past isn’t.

WORTHY

Cinder wants to be worthy. Ironwood wants to be a hero.

Deep down, Ironwood and Cinder want the same thing. They want to be above others. They want to be more than humans.

However, they go at it in opposite ways:

Ironwood: I have sacrificed everything!

Cinder: I want it all...

Ironwood thinks that victory lies in sacrificing everything, while Cinder sees it as taking it all.

These opposite viewpoints mirror their respective social stances.

Ironwood can say he wants to sacrifice everything because he has everything.

Cinder thinks happiness lies in everything because she has nothing:

Cinder: You’re right. Without you I am nothing. But because of you, I am everything.

In the end, Ironwood and Cinder are each other’s true enemies, but they fail to see it and lash out against the wrong people:

Ironwood and Cinder’s respective fight against Winter and Weiss is exactly this.

Ironwood fights a Maiden he sees as an enemy of Atlas, while another Maiden is attacking the people he swore to protect.

Cinder lashes out at Weiss because of her origins, while Weiss has decided to leave her status and money behind to make the right thing.

Still, Ironwood and Cinder are too hypocritical to see the truth. This is why they attack people, who could have helped them, if they were given the chance.

This is also why they receive a warning:

Winter: No, you have sacrificed everyone else!

Winter: You… are going to pay… for everything you’ve done!

Ironwood claims he is ready to sacrifice everything. However, he never sacrifices himself:

In the end, he is unable to sacrifice his life to fight Salem.

Let’s highlight he has nothing to lose by this point. He is falling with Atlas anyway. In his final moments, he is given the chance to prove true to his words:

I would die Without regret, I’d offer up my life With zero reservations I would fly Into the sun If that would keep our dream alive

Instead, he gives up. He has been shooting his allies until the very end, but freezes in front of his enemy.

Cinder thinks she is closer to her final victory, but in the end she has accomplished nothing of what she truly wants.

She wants to kill RWBY, but they are alive. She wants the Maiden powers, but she fails.

At the same time, Cinder is still far away from what she truly needs:

Cinder: You have everything you need?

Watts: Oh, believe me, this is everything I've ever wanted.

She is given a perfect mirror of herself in Watts. Still, instead of seeing it, Cinder uses his flaw, which is her same flaw, to kill him. Watts’ wants lead to his death and the same thing might happen to Cinder if she does not stop herself in time.

Finally, there is this:

Salem: This game is not yours to win, Cinder, it’s mine. Just because you’re more valuable to me than a pawn, does not make you a player. Everything is already in motion. All you need concern yourself with is your ability to act when I tell you to.

Ironwood and Cinder share a chess motif.

Ironwood thinks of himself as a player and specifically as Salem’s opponent.

Cinder is instead told she is no player.

However, in the end, Ironwood becomes a mere pawn to the point that all Watts has to do is to open his cell to be sure he is going to unwillingly aid in Cinder’s plan.

What is more, he is so fixated on Salem that he fails to aknowledge the people below him. This is why his true opponent is a slave that Atlas exploited.

Cinder frames herself as a player instead. She is the one who truly makes the first move against Ironwood and ultimately she is the one who defeats both him and our protagonists. Finally, she is the one who calls checkmate.

Still, is she really playing her own game?

In the end, the one who gets what she wants is not Cinder, but Salem:

And all she has to do to obtain it is one small move:

Salem: And I’ve realized, it’s all my fault. You’ve fought your whole life unwaveringly for what you want and here I am holding you back instead of lifting you up.

While Cinder is once again letting her talent be exploited by those above her. She is choosing to be Salem’s Queen instead than a player of her own life.

She is the Black Queen defeating the White King, but nothing more.

#rwby #rwby meta #rwby vol8 #rwby vol7 #cinder fall #james ironwood #my meta

255 notes · View notes

urimaginespimp · 4 years

Text

Three Months Apart

Tommy x Reader

angst + maybe a happy ending?

--------

Today was the day you were going to ask him.

You’ve been with Thomas for over six years. The countless parties and weddings you’ve attended together become more and more intolerable. All because every time you went to them, the more you wanted to have your own.

It didn’t help that your family was pressuring you to it, no matter how against they were of your relationship. Your father often told you, that If you were going to associate yourself with such a dangerous family, might as well make sure you’re officially entitled to their protection.

You gave him the signs, hell even Polly and John started dropping their own hints at him to help you after they figured out what you’ve been trying to do. But as much as Thomas was one of the most intelligent people you know, he seemed to be oblivious about it.

Pacing back and forth outside his office, you were close to backing out when the door opened, revealing Thomas.

“Is there a reason why you’ve been pacing back and forth out here for the last three minutes?” your boyfriend asks you with a smile.

“I uh… wanted to talk.” You answered quietly, walking inside.

Thomas was confused with the nervousness of you voice. Closing the door, he turned to see you already on the seat in front of his desk, fidgeting with your fingers.

“Is there something wrong, Y/N?” He asked you.

“A friend of mine from London is getting married next month.” You don’t know how, but that lie just rolled off your tongue.

“Y/N, you know you don’t have to be nervous about asking me to be your date, right? We’ve gone through occasions like these about a hundred times.” He chuckled.

“Right. We’ve been through a lot of weddings.” You nodded, smiling. “But I never got the chance to ask you the very same thing I often ask my other unmarried friends.”

“Well shoot, darling.” He walked towards you and took the seat opposite yours.

“Do you think they’re making the right decision?" you finally asked him, feeling a rush out of your system. You didn’t even realize how tense this has been making you.

“Frankly, if it’s no benefit for a company, like let’s say an official alliance, then it’s a waste of time and money.” He answered nonchalant, taking a cigarette out of his pocket.

No matter how appalled you were at his response, you tried not to show it.

“Not even if they do love each other?” You felt your throat tighten up.

Thomas sighed. “If they really do love each other, they wouldn’t need to have such a unecessary event to shove it to other people’s face.”

“Good God, Thomas.” You whispered.

“Tom, it’s more than just telling the world how much you love each other. It’s also sealing devotion to each other. Giving them the gift of the right t-to let’s say, visit you in a hospital without having to wait for a real family member tell them that you are indeed the patient’s significant other. Or not having to deal with stupid people labeling you as their whore or temporary piece anymore.” You ranted to him, not being able to hold back in including your personal reasons.

“Is this what this is all about? You let those petty comments in your head even after years of being together?” He asked you, irritated. You stood up from your seat.

“I’m a woman, Thomas. And it’s quiet disappointing that at this time of age, being one still isn’t that significant. I quit my job for you. I left the comfort of my family’s home for you. Everyone I run into knows I’m with you. Now God forbid, but what would become of me if one of your dangerous antics would lead you to your demise? Who would hire a Shelby trash? And I might as well kill myself if I’d have to go back and hear my mother’s non-ending comments about me.”

“You know my family’s still going to take care of you.” He answered quietly, still wrapping his head around your sudden outburst.

“That’s not the point.” At this rate, you were gripping your dress to stop yourself from crying. Not until you ask him one more thing at least.

“Have you even thought about marrying me?” You blinked at him, hopefulness laced your voice.

But for the first time in the years you’ve been with him, Thomas Shelby was out for words in an argument. Your question left his mouth parted, trying to give you an answer.

Your stomach dropped. The defeated look on your face almost pushed him to give you the lie you wanted to hear, but he couldn’t do that to you.

“I understand." You said looking down at your dress and running your hands through it as if an effort to smooth it out, when you were only trying not to show the tears that have finally spilled.

Taking a deep breath, you prepared yourself from the dreadful thing you were about to say next.

"I can’t do this anymore.” You barely said and willed your shaking self to walk out from him that day.

--------

That was three months ago.

You were in your father’s debt for helping you “disappear” off the radar for a little while. He sent you to live with a wealthy distant relative in the countryside, giving you time to pick yourself up and work on your personal happiness again.

It was safe to say that you were getting there, if it weren’t just for your own mind betraying you every once in a while, when you’d unexpectedly think or dream about him.

And of course, there were times where you almost regretted that day. You were already happy, right? But at the same time, it was better than spending more years before realizing he’d never marry you.

Thomas. You hadn’t heard directly from him ever since that day. Of course you gave a haste tearful goodbye to everybody, promising to write to them in the future. But it was a few letters from your sister that gave you a few updates.

She’d told you how he came to your family’s home a bunch of times on the first month, asking for your father’s favor to tell him where you were. On the second month he’d resort to calling every now and then, but on the third, there was nothing.

You guess he’d finally move on. And that was your cue to finally come home.

A few days back in your family’s home, one of your maids handed you an invitation to your name. It was dated a month back, but what caught your attention was that the seal was clearly already opened.

“It got delivered straight to the Shelbys first, miss.” She told you after seeing your confused expression.

Giving her a nod and a small smile, you opened it and saw that it was a formal invitation to a friend’s engagement party, set three nights from now.

“Should I send you sincerest regrets?” She asked you, and you stared back at her. “S-since you just got back from a trip.” She clarified awkwardly.

“No. Just go with me to find a dress tomorrow, please.”

--------

“I almost lost hope that you’d even come, Y/N” your friend hugged you as soon as she got you alone after introducing you to her betrothed.

“Don’t be daft. I’d never miss a chance to see my friends happy.” You smiled at her. “I never even knew you were dating someone.”

“Yeah, it’s for the family’s benefit. We like each other though, so it’s no problem.” She explained, chuckling. “So…” she continued. “Where have you been these past few months? I tried calling but all I got was that you’re out for a vacation.”

“I’m no longer with Thomas. Had to clear my head for a lil bit." You smiled awkwardly. Sooner or later you had to tell people anyway.

“Y/N I- I am so sorry for the invitation mishap. Had I known, I wouldn’t have sent it to his address or listed him as your plus one.” She squeezed your hand in remorse.

“It’s fine, really. You didn’t know.” You assured her.

She was smiling at you in gratitude, but something behind you caught her eye that made her gape in surprise. Curious, you turned your head and saw that it was no other than your ex-boyfriend heading your way.

“Do you want me to get someone to escort him out?” You friend asked in panic. Turning to face her, you took a deep breath to calm yourself.

“No, I’ll handle it. What I want you to do is enjoy your party, okay?” You smiled reassuringly. Giving your hand one last squeeze, she excused herself when Thomas was a few steps away.

Turning to face him, you were surprisingly feeling calmer than expected.

“Mr. Shelby.” You addressed him with a curt nod.

“Can I talk to you in private?” he cut to the chase. You bit your tongue back from making a remark about his lack of greeting, after seeing how his eyes were pleading despite his cold tone.

“Lead the way.” You found yourself saying.

On your way to wherever he was going, you caught your friend’s worried eye, and gave her a playful scolding look for not enjoying herself like you asked. Sure enough, he led you both in an unoccupied room that looked like someone’s study.

As soon as he closed the door behind him, you were taken aback when he suddenly charged at you and engulfed you in his arms. Thankfully, you were quick enough to steady yourself so that you both wouldn’t fall.

“Please don’t ever call me that ever again.” He whispered in your ear, shakily.

“W-wha-“

“Mr. Shelby. Please don’t ever call me like I'm just some associate. I hate it.” He cut you off. Your eyes watered at the tone of his voice. It sounded like he was as miserable as you’ve been these past few months.

Unable to give him any response, he slowly finally let go of you from his embrace and faced you. Looking at him, he was in one of his expensive suits, but that could only take away a little of your attention from his real state.

He had never looked as tired as he does right now, he looked like he lost a few pounds, his skin was paler than usual. You resisted the urge to touch his face.

“I’m sorry.” He finally spoke up.

“I’m fine now, Thomas.” You answered, though the lone tear that rolled down your cheek said otherwise.

“I’m not.” He answered frankly. “These past three months have been hell, Y/N. I kept going to your father, begging him to tell me where you were, until Poll told me that the more I persisted, the longer I wouldn’t see you.” He wiped the tear on your cheek with his thumb.

“H-how did you know I’ll be here?” you whispered, still trying to find you voice.

“I opened the invitation. But I risked going here just without guarantee you'd come.” He explained to you.

“I was in a distant aunt’s home. I just had to get away.” You didn’t know what else to say, so you told him where you’ve been. “It had a big garden, and I was treated really well there. They gave me everything I requested, I got to ri-”

“Marry me.” He told you in the middle of your babbling, catching you off-guard once more. “It was selfish of me to merely think of marriage the way I did, without even thinking about how it would mean for you.”

Recovering from the shock, you shook your head at him.

“No.” You replied sternly.

“No?” the hurt in his tone didn’t go unnoticed.

“I don’t want to force you into doing something you don’t believe in Thomas. I left not because I didn’t love you anymore. I did it because we want different things, and we both deserve to be with someone who would have the same mindset as we do. Because yes, I would’ve just accepted your answer and be content with our relationship. But I knew that along the way I’d start to resent you. I never want that to happen.”

“But that’s the thing, Y/N.” He held both of your arms. “When you left, I thought about everything you said and asked. You asked if I ever thought about marrying you. No, I haven’t, but I always thought about spending my life with you, having kids, owning a home together, and all that hosting events bullshit.” He chuckled. “And I realized that I can have that. But I also want to make it official first.” He added softly.

At this point, you couldn’t answer him anymore as tears prickled your eyes. Then he got down on one knee before your standing figure.

“Now please, Y/N. Will you take me out of my own misery and give me your hand in marriage?” He was already crying too. Who knew that the excruciating past three months would lead you both to here.

But just when you were about to give him your answer, the door suddenly opened, revealing your friend who had worry written all over her face. But it quickly turned into a shocked one when she saw that what Thomas was doing.

“I thought you were in trouble since you were taking too long.” She smiled sheepishly at both of you.

You smiled back at her. Then turned your attention back to Thomas.

“I guess we should invite her first, then.”

410 notes · View notes

hanatiny · 4 years

Text

Cry For Your King

gif by @barnesbabee ♡

a/n: ‘tis finally done, part two of Bow To Your King - read that first if you haven’t yet! hope CFYK lives up to the quality of its predecessor~

pairing: demon king!Hongjoong x f!reader

genre: smut

word count: 2469

warnings: sir kink, pet names, teasing, dirty talk, oral (f receiving), edging/orgasm denial, overstimulation is mentioned, dacryphilia, extremely vaguely implied exhibitionism, implied breeding kink, implied corruption kink, very slight possessive undertones, reader acts like a brat for a solid 0.5 seconds, Joong has piercings & tattoos (the latter are only briefly mentioned), brief mention of unconventional toys, strong language

-----

You officially married Hongjoong and were crowned as the queen of the underworld not too long after the 'incident' in the throne room. That must've been nearly two years ago now, you mused.

In human years, anyway - you were quick to be told that time flowed differently, much slower, in the underworld. And you felt it too, because while two years weren't much, you did notice that days and nights both felt much longer than they used to.

You certainly weren't complaining about it, in any case, because it meant more time to spent with your demon lover, whom you've been trying to find for a good while.

He had adamantly been avoiding you for the past week and if you did run into him outside of your shared bed late at night, he'd be pressing his lips together tightly and making up nonsensical excuses to not kiss you on top of that.

You figured he was just extra busy but you were still fed up, to say the least.

Your husband has been avoiding you and, as his closest confidant next to you, so has Seonghwa, and nobody you asked could give you anything more than a shrug as an answer as to why this was the case.

With a pout on your face, you huffed as you sat down on your large bed.

If Hongjoong wasn't going to spend time with you, a nap seemed like the most logical thing to do considering you didn't really have anything else to occupy yourself with presently.

You rolled over on the mattress, pulling the blanket up to cover your body as you curled up into a ball. You tossed and turned but you weren’t able to catch much rest, especially not once you felt the mattress dip behind you before a calloused hand ghosted over your hip.

You knew who the hand belonged to, body going rigid as you inhaled sharply.

"I know you're awake, darling...~" Your husband's sultry voice whispered near your ear, coaxing a soft whine from you in response.

Your refusal to react, even if you failed in your endeavor, amused him greatly. After all, it was only a matter of time.

Hongjoong knew you better than you knew yourself; he knew which buttons to push to make you break, to make you tremble beneath his touch and moan his name loud enough for everyone in the castle to hear.

He leaned in and allowed his lips to brush over the exposed skin of your shoulder near the demon mark on your collarbone, letting them curve into a grin when he felt you jolt and shiver from the brief contact.

“Easy there, honey. It’s just me~” He purred into your ear and you whined once more, louder this time.

“It’s not just you, Hongjoongie,” you pouted with a huff, his expression softening momentarily at the nickname as he nudged you to turn onto your back, compliance almost immediate, “You’ve been avoiding me for the past week and a half, why-”

Hongjoong hushed you with a finger to your lips, his eyes widening before he regained his composure when you kitten licked at his digit.

“All in due time, love. You shall find out about my motives soon, very soon as a matter of fact~” You could practically hear smugness and sadism both dripping from his voice, and it sent another shiver through your body while he pulled his finger back before replacing it with his lips briefly, but not long enough for you to be able to distinguish the foreign sensation that clung to your husband’s lips.

When he pulled the blanket away from you and let it fall off the bed, he licked his lips and his eyes flashed their signature red as he shifted himself to kneel between your instinctively spread legs.

Suddenly, you understood. You understood why Hongjoong kept avoiding you while he smirked knowingly, pausing his actions to allow you to process

Thanks to the passionate glow of his irises, you were able to clearly see the jewelry surrounding your husband’s mouth.

In hindsight, you mentally chastised yourself for neither seeing nor putting two and two together beforehand - it should’ve been clear to you that the reason you and your lips were being avoided for so long was that Hongjoong had gotten a variety of piercings and was allowing them to heal.

Snake bites, a lip ring as well as a stud decorating his tongue that you spotted when the organ darted out to moisten his lips.

"Like what you see, princess~?" Your surprise must have been palpable, if the gallivant edge in his tone was anything to go by.

“I like what I’m seeing immensely, but I thought my title was queen~?” You teased, although immediate regret settled deep in your gut when Hongjoong tilted his head to the side slightly and gave a crooked smirk.

“Not when you act like a spoiled brat entitled to me and my attention, it isn’t. Now part those pretty legs for me more, like I know you want to...~”

You shuddered, but stubbornly refused to budge.

“Ah, I see how it is. Precious little brat thinks she’s in charge hm~?” He growled savagely, the red hue of his eyes darkening dramatically as he clicked his tongue.

“Stupid mistake... Do you even deserve to get what has been prepared for you specifically? Or would you rather just have me watch you fuck yourself on my sceptre, which I’m aware you’ve been wanting to do when I’m not around~?”

Mouth agape, you were left stunned at Hongjoong's words while his lips curled into a triumphant grin.

From the very first day on you had been told to tread carefully, that he had eyes and ears anywhere even if you weren't aware of them till the moment of truth came, that he'd know your every secret eventually.

You didn't believe in that at the time but you definitely did now and you knew there was no point in denial, so you drew your bottom lip in between your teeth and wordlessly, finally, did as told.

Hongjoong purred in approval, his hands ghosting over the skin of your already trembling thighs. He had one more ace of his sleeve, a literal one at that, but he’d save that for another time.

“So you can follow the orders you’re given... My good little kitten wants only Sir, doesn’t she? Wants him more than anything and anyone else hm~?” His voice sounded taunting and deep near your ear.

You didn’t even realize you had closed your eyes until they shot open moments later in surprise when you felt Hongjoong’s hot breath fanning over your ear. “Well~?”

You nodded frantically with a small whimper, growing needier for him as the seconds ticked by, and you knew he could tell. He always could. “Y-yes! Only want Sir, nothing and noone could satisfy me like him~”

Hongjoong chuckled endearingly, amused by how your voice betrayed you, “Sir’s the only one for you my darling, the only one worthy of having you like this.”

You enjoyed the possessive growl that followed as it sent a shiver down your spine, your husband’s eyes flickering with mischief in response while he shuffled downwards to settle between your legs, his face close to your throbbing core this time.

His fingers carefully pushed up the hem of your nightdress and hooked into the waistband of your panties before pulling them off with ease, his eyes twinkling in amusement as they rose to meet yours.

“So cute how wet you are for me already... This worked up about just a few piercings~”

You whined, feeling caught as your cheeks flushed in half embarassment and half arousal while he let a finger glide smoothly over your slick folds with featherlight touches.

"My darling wants me to make her feel good, doesn't she?" You could essentially hear the taunting grin in his words, your reply coming out more high-pitched than intended.

"I-I do~!"

"'I-I do' what, baby?" His tone was mocking and it felt like your face had figuratively caught on fire.

You had to actively swallow your pride to answer; while it wasn't particularly unusual for you to beg for his touch, Hongjoong hardly ever forced you to do it like this.

"I want Sir to make me feel good, please it's been so long...!"

Although meek and breathy, the way you pleaded appeased Hongjoong. He brushed his thumb over your swollen clit, and you jerked in reaction as he chuckled lowly.

“So sensitive...~”

“Only f-for Sir...~” Came your weak reply, and Hongjoong’s expression softened deceivingly before you felt his plush lips press lightly against your nub, the cold feeling of the metal contrasting the warmth of his skin and sending a shiver rushing down your spine.

Based on your reactions so far he knew you weren’t ready for what was to come, his lips curling into a sadistic grin while he trailed gentle kisses down your slit before stopping right at your entrance.

At times like this you cursed the fact that he let his hair grow out a bit over the years, as it tickled your inner thighs teasingly and it took every ounce of self control you had within you to not squirm violently from how sensitive you were.

You dared to tentatively lift your head to see why Hongjoong appeared to be hesitating, only for it to drop back to where it was onto the pillow underneath as your lips trembled before finally parting in a vulnerable mewl when his tongue slipped inside of your entrance.

It amazed you time and time again how he had become such an expert in pleasuring you with just his tongue or fingers, sometimes with both at the same time.

He lapped at your sex as if he was a starved man, moaning exaggeratedly at your taste for good measure, and it brought you to a sort of bliss you rarely felt so intensely.

Your soft cries grew louder every time his tongue dipped in between your dripping folds, and when he then paused to look at you, right before you could come undone for him, Hongjoong swore he almost came in his pants at the sight.

Your chest heaving with ragged breaths, your lips parted in sinful whines caused by the sudden lack of stimulation and your hair was sprawled out messily around your head. But to Hongjoong, the most beautiful part of it all was the tears that welled up in your hazy eyes. He knew you well enough to know they were tears of pleasure, and knowing that he caused them was enough to make his dick twitch as you begged for him.

His previously innocent, soft-spoken darling had become someone who'd ask for the pleasure he provided for you and the way he filled you up so often he might as well think you were addicted.

Your sobs only served to fuel his thoughts more, "P-please Sir, need to cum so bad! Please~!"

"God..." He groaned, willing his instinct to just go ahead and fuck you into the mattress until your voice became hoarse from screaming to take a backseat in his mind.

"You're so gorgeous, angel. I could do this to you all goddamn night...~" Hongjoong's purr both unsettled and excited you, causing a gasp to sound in your throat as he went back to working on your aching heat.

You didn't know what the foreign sensation was this time until you felt Hongjoong smirk against you and slip his tongue as deep inside of you as he possibly could.

You didn't know how it worked, or where he hid the remote if there even was one, but didn't care in the slightest - his tongue piercing could vibrate.

He proceeded to bring you right to the edge with it, to the point of needing a single touch to hit your orgasm, back down only to build you up again with his expertly technique.

Two or three times, you weren't exactly sure how many times he repeated the process. All you knew was that tears were now streaming down your face unhindered, your body trembling and writhing in pleasure.

"That's right, baby... I want you to cry only for me, cry for your king..~!" Hongjoong's voice sounded so breathy and borderline erotic, it made you believe he was getting off on the sight of your tears alone.

And he did get off on it. So much so in fact that he pulled away from your pulsing core, afraid he would be unable to control himself much longer and wouldn’t be able to cum inside of you like he wanted to.

You whimpered, starting to get fed up with the amount of edging your lover had already done that night. “Sir-”

“Hush, kitten.” He interrupted you with a growl, although you frankly couldn’t say that you minded, “You’ll be allowed to cum soon~ But not on Sir’s tongue...”

You tilted your head at his words as he trailed off, your bottom lip jutting out in a mildly confused pout. He groaned under his breath, muttering about how you’d be the death of him sooner or later while he busied himself with freeing his painfully hard cock from his pants, thankful that your shared bedroom was dark enough for you to not see the black ink peeking out from underneath his sleeve, even with the faint moonlight shining through the window.

It was something for you to get excited about later, he mused, before positioning himself above you and lining his tip up with your entrance. Your hands balled into fists in anticipation, bunching up the sheets in the process.

Before Hongjoong could finally enter you and give both you and himself the relief you so desperately craved, however, the door creaked open. Your husband didn’t have to turn around to know who intruded, letting out an exasperated sigh.

“I’m sorry, I just heard y/n crying and thought-”

“Well I think you should leave, Seonghwa.” Hongjoong bit back, clearly annoyed at the older man’s intrusion of such an intimate moment.

“I-”

“I told you to get the fuck out if you want to keep your head on your shoulders past tonight...” Afraid he would be in genuine trouble if he didn’t obey, Seonghwa slammed the door shut again.

“Now, where were we-”

You swore you could see Hongjoong’s form shaking with rage at the comment he heard next, but you’d be lying if you said it didn’t serve to fuel your arousal even more.

“Oh by the way, he got his dick pierced too.”

You blinked up at your husband with wide eyes while his cheeks flushed, the man once again grateful for the darkness of the room hindering your ability to see.

“You what?!”

----- Taglist:

@barnesbabee @cometoceantrenches @ddeonghwva @galaxteez @illicit-roses @latte-fairytaekwoon @little-precious-baby @moonlit-lixie @multidreams-and-desires @nightqueennyx @truebluejoong @vocalyunho @yunhoes-twancings-nsfw @yunhoiseyecandy

Network tag:

@8makes1teamnet

#8makes1teamnet #ateez smut #ateez hongjoong smut #hongjoong smut #kim hongjoong smut #demon au #and my taglist keeps growing.... not that I'm complaining #here's just to hoping everyone actually gets tagged fshjfs #hanatiny writes

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soliavenne · 3 years

Text

Gaara celebrating his S/O's birthday

- Genre: Fluffy Gaara Hours

- Word count:

- Format: Bulleted headcanons

Hope you enjoy!

• As much as he wants to, flowery words of adoration is just not something that drops easily from the tip of his tongue. No amount of practice in front of the mirror could ever prepare him when the time finally calls for it.

• There's a lot of thought behind such predicament. One being that it might make you uncomfortable, two being that it might come across as him faking it because it was a little out of the norm.

• Gaara was rather accepting of this already. There are certain types of people whose verbal suave just couldn't compete. If anything, the lacking in this aspect didn't have to spell the end of the world for him; he just needs to find another way of expressing his love and gratitude for you on your special day. A way that doesn't compromise its appeal as being genuine.

• Thinking upon thinking had Gaara concluding that a personal gift, a flower, a handwritten letter, and a short- humble attempt at being verbally expressive as he hands out his gift to you was the balanced goal to suffice his concerns.

• At the very first birthdays into your budding relationship, he'd be running his options through with his siblings. This was a new concept to him afterall, and he didn't want to fail you. You could only imagine the heated argument between Temari and Kankuro, sandwiching a very confused Gaara in the middle of it all.

• Temari: "Dude, are you kidding me? That's not even romantic at all. We're talking about Gaara's ROMANTIC partner, not a goth adult male barely scraping by as he asks for gift on Christmas."

• Kankuro: "No, are YOU kidding me? You know damn well Y/N would be jumping out of joy if you two follow my advice."

• Temari: "Stop self-projecting and ask for that gift for yourself on your birthday!"

• Gaara: "Guys... please..."

• Years into it though, Gaara would've at least be confident in making the decision himself.

• A personalized gift that caters to your interest, often practical; your favorite flower, and another of it that has a symbolic message behind it that he would love for you to figure out on your own; a handwritten letter almost too formal, yet in his very own way, romantic at its best; and the bashful smile as he tries say happy birthday to you while he hands out the rest of his gift.

• Gaara would always ask you where and how would you like to celebrate a week beforehand. He would have an idea what you might want, but Gaara would always want to ask for your permission first. It's not that he wasn't confident in his decisions, it's just that he has to be sure that your day is something you truly want and genuinely enjoy.

• Feeling adventurous to try the newest restaurant in town? Got it. One of his subordinates are already on the call to secure an appointment. He would check the menu if he has the time so he could brief both you and himself about what kind of entreé you two might find yourselves with.

• Being the Kazekage is expectedly something that is very demanding of his attention, so his assistant would have to help him out in figuring out things- like if there is a secure, VIP area or anything that a restaurant could do if they could decorate the chosen area with themes of birthday celebration.

• He would honestly prefer to celebrate it in a humble, common space of the restaurant; but the evening would be less peaceful for the two of you. It also doesn't help that his standing in the village poses a risk on your safety as well. Publicity and transparency on personal matters isn't always the brightest idea for a high-ranking official like him, as providing the people the feeling of being informed regarding his private whereabouts sometimes allows them to form a sense of entitlement towards further inquiries. The last thing he wanted to deal with was for his partner's birthday to become something so publicly available for unnecessary scrutiny and controversy. Gaara would really just want his beloved to have the great day they deserve.

• However, if you choose to celebrate your day at the comfort of your home, he would be just as ecstatic. Honestly, he'd be a tad bit more excited. There's just something about being with you in the safe, comforting vulnerability of your home that could never be toppled by even the most luxurious of places that a high profile official like him already knows too well. He's a modest man by nature.

• If you could only see him trying to contain the barely visible outwards projection of his ironically, almost panicking internal excitement at the thought of celebrating at home with you- you'd find yourself giggling.

• However, if the night is just way too busy to get out of; he would ask you if you would want to celebrate with him in his office. Gaara is honestly too embarrassed to ask such- as he should be coming home to you, not the other way around. He'd apologize first before asking you about it. Gaara would clean up first and at least make his office much more presentable.

• It's honestly not so bad. The place and the manner of celebrating might be a big influence, but each other's companionship really did matter the most afterall. The decision to compromise also tattletales the depth that has been reached in the relationship. The acceptance and the support, the effort to meet on a middle ground.

• Rest assured that no matter how and where the two of you choose to celebrate, Gaara would always strive to make you sure you feel extra adored and cared for on your special day.

Happy birthday once again, anon! And happy birthday to all of those who happen to share the same birth date as well. Hope you all have a beautiful day, you deserve it! 😊

#gaara #sabaku no gaara #gaara of the sand #gaara x reader #fluffy gaara hours

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skiyoosmi · 4 years

Text

if fate permits

⤷ chapter nineteen: when it's too late

previous < masterpost > next

YN'S POV

ATSUMU'S POV

TWO DAYS LATER...

[THE FOUR IDIOTS’ APARTMENT, 6:55PM]

Kiyoomi only watched as your eyes became melancholier, as if it were not already in the first place, the longer you stared at the screen of his phone. Probably rereading his conversation with Atsumu, he thinks. Initially, he wasn’t really planning on showing it to you but just like any other day, you decided to be the whipped soulmate (or more like an idiot, at least to him) you were, all while saying “Atsumu is important to me, should I really leave this apartment while not making amends with him?” He almost retched, is this girl really fixated on becoming a saint? How could someone be this lenient? He has no idea. And so, he showed you– that even after all this time, the piss-haired boy will remain as he is; that no matter how many years may pass, Miya Atsumu will be Miya Atsumu.

And he was the exact opposite of you: he was self-centered, conceited, prideful, juvenile, and so many more that it would take Kiyoomi more than a day to list all the things he detested from the boy. He can only remember how much he loathed the boy upon their first proper meeting; not that he likes meeting new people anyway. Kiyoomi was no genius but he knew, right at that moment, that Atsumu was far from being the ‘knight-in-shining-armor’ soulmate his dearest sister was so engrossed to have.

Kiyoomi also knew that he was not the best brother in the world; hell, he is way too far from being a good one even. He couldn’t care less if you have an admirer from afar (like that Iwaizumi who seems to be around you all the time these days), nor when you finally get yourself a suitable boyfriend, not even when you finally get wedded to someone. He wasn’t overprotective... or at least that’s what he believed. But he was only human, after all– now that he contemplates about it, he realizes that he isn’t really fond of seeing you cry.

“Stop hurting yourself over and over again, you fool of a sister,” he said, clicking his tongue afterwards and grabbing your bags after hearing your father call from downstairs, “Know your worth a little, will you? It’s kind of painful for me to watch you get hurt too, you know. It’s not just mom and dad.”

And with that, he left the room, leaving you to tend to your other belongings and perhaps, say goodbye to this little house that managed to etch itself to your heart. Compared to your childhood home, it wasn’t enough to make you sob your heart out dry. But for some reason, tears still found its way on the corner of your eyes as you remembered the fond memories you’ve made here with your boys – the moment you stumbled upon this house when you four were trying to find a place to stay, the smile on your face when you decided that this was the one (cue Atsumu literally hauling you three towards the agent to settle the down payment), the moving day when Kiyoomi and Osamu brawled for the first time in their lives because they both wanted that bedroom that was the only one downstairs, “to be away from the idiot disease” as what they said. You can only wonder if you could make new memories as happy as those in your future home.

“Ah… you really are a fool of a sister, YN,” you whispered to yourself, wiping the tears away and getting the last of your things before proceeding downstairs, finding your father standing by the front door, arms crossed with a face mask adorning his face (you never really questioned where your brother got his traits, it was as clear as the day), “Kiyoomi is already in the car but I think you should bid Osamu-kun a proper farewell first. He’s in the kitchen. We’ll be waiting so just take your time.”

You nodded before proceeding to the said area, finding the gray-haired with his arms already wide open. Your lips quivered before jumping at him, “I’m gonna miss you.”

“We’ll still be seeing each other at school, you damn gorilla,” he chuckled before burying his face in your neck. You clicked your tongue, pouting at his very much realistic reply, “But it’s different! Eating breakfasts together, going to school together, going home together… and drinking wine until we’re brains out! I’m pretty sure my dad won’t let me do that at his house!”

He cackled, releasing you from his hold and flicking you on your forehead, “what an alcoholic woman! Are you sure you’re going to be a student in a prestige university abroad? You’ll be left behind by your classmates if you keep on prioritizing your wines before your studies.”

“Hah! You’ll see, Osamu. Those red wines will be the reason I even become one of the most famous writers in the world. You better wait and I’ll release an autobiography saying a man named Miya Osamu used to bully me to death,” you huffed, smirking after you saw him stare at you in disbelief. Your smile gradually disappeared upon the realization that the center of your heart was not home… even when I’m already leaving, huh?

Osamu frowned as well, scratching the back of his neck because of the sudden silence that indicated your little recognition, “I’m sorry. I told him to go home before 7 but…”

“It’s fine, Samu. We’re still not in the best terms so it’s probably better this way – a more peaceful way of farewell, you know? No fighting or anything else. Besides, I couldn’t tell him anything about my moving, scholarship, and so many things,” The lad didn’t miss the way you quickly wiped your tears away though. Damn you, Atsumu, why are you always making her cry, he thought.

“I’ll see you at school then, Samu. I’ll miss the dinners you cook,” you smiled, walking quietly outside, and shutting the front door. At the same time, a chime resonated from your phone that was in your pocket. Opening it, you released a long sigh… of relief? of anxiety? You didn’t know.

[Haji, 7:15PM]: I did it, YN. My thread, it’s… black.

You looked up at the night sky, finding stars twinkling as if they were gazing back at you.

Should I start moving on too, Haji?

[TOKYO UNIVERSITY GYMNASIUM, 7:20PM]

For the umpteenth time this week, Atsumu heaved yet another deep sigh, hands weaving itself with his hair to ruffle it out of frustration. Today, he couldn’t care less about the girls lurking around the university gym… because for the umpteenth time this week as well, his twin brother expressed his disappointment towards the boy, leaving him in the said place with the same words he had uttered yesterday and even the day before that, accompanied by a threat this time: “You’re such an immature asshole I wouldn’t be surprised if YN finally gives up on being your friend. You better come home before 7PM or else, I will drag you by your feet with my own two hands.”

Clicking his tongue, he grabbed another ball, gripping it so hard his nails almost left a dent on it. 7PM? He only scoffs. No, he won’t go home yet. He doesn’t care if Osamu gets furious at him and drags him nor if you give up on your friendship; all he thinks right now is that he wants to spike this ball straight onto the other side of the court, make it burst if it was even possible. It wasn’t his fault he got mad at you, he’s entitled to his feelings; he’s right, Kiyoomi’s mistaken… you shouldn’t have promised something you would just break in a span of less than thirty seconds. You shouldn’t hav–

But is it really her fault though? A voice in his head refuted him, or is it just because you’re really an immature asshole who can’t be happy for her?

Of course, it’s her fault, he argues. Immature? Him? He’s almost twenty-two, for god’s sake! He has been living in this world for more than two decades, how could Osamu call him underdeveloped? He swears he’s going to give his twin brother a good punch or two once he gets home.

… But she’s just trying to reach for her dreams, why are you not supporting her? She always does that when it comes to you, doesn’t she? Or have you already forgotten?

And at that, everything went perfectly still. The sound of the ball falling from his hands resonated throughout the quiet gym. Even with just hearing words from something or someone he can’t even identify, Atsumu felt as if he was hit on his head with a ton of bricks.

“E-eh…? W-why… why am I crying?” He whispered, fingers going up to touch his cheeks and furrowing his eyebrows when he felt the dampness of the said area.

Because you know you don’t deserve her. You know that it’s your fault. It has ALWAYS been your fault.

“Shut up,” he said to no one, plopping down the floor while he clutched his ears this time to shut the voice out. As it kept talking, he tried hitting his head with his hand, tried talking over it, tried retorting savage remarks back; however, everything was futile for it kept talking, kept torturing his mind with nothing but the truth.

You hurt her, then apologize, then do it again. What are you playing, a tug-of-war? How selfish of you, Miya Atsumu! Are you really her best friend?

“Shut up! Shut up! SHUT UP!” He screamed, his throat feeling as if it was getting scratched from the rawness of his voice. There was no way he was gonna have a voice tomorrow.

You’re so aggravated whenever you think about losing YN, are you sure you’re not in love with her or something? Yanno… have you never thought about the fact that maybe she’s your sou–

“Atsumu-kun! Wake up!” A voice yelled while grabbing him by his shoulders and shaking him awake, finally bringing him out of his… dream? Was that even considered a dream? Because Atsumu was sure as hell that what happened was just plain torture to him.

“Are you okay, Atsumu-kun? You were having a nightmare,” turning to the girl who kept her hold on him, he finds Yui, who was looking back at him as if he lost the screws in his head. He starts to believe that he, in fact, did after all that weirdness. After all, who in the world would randomly just fall asleep in the middle of an empty gym then proceed to have a nightmare while on it. Surely, there would be no one except for him. How in the world did it happen anyway? As far as he could remember, he was just practicing his serves and tosses a while ago.

“Yui, why are you still here? It’s getting late,” he asks the girl whose eyes just lit up, for some reason, at his question before lifting her hand up and showing… what? She continued to smile though and waved the same hand right in front of Atsumu’s face, much to his slight annoyance. He wasn’t really in the best mood to play guessing games right now, so he only sighs exasperatedly, “Just get to the point, Yui-chan. I’m feeling the exhaustion now.”

“I told you before that I could see my thread, right? Well, it turned black! Me and my soulmate met up a while ago and turns out, he was a Moira, so we performed the mini ritual, which is so weird by the way, before cutting it. He said one of us has to ‘affirm’ their desire to cut the thread, so I did! As far as I know, based on my previous researches about soulmates, it doesn’t really matter because the ‘gods’ know the deepest desires of our hearts but you know, I don’t really care because I’m free!” She exclaimed, squealing afterwards, and flinging her arms around Atsumu’s neck to give him a hug. But the boy stayed still and gaped because how can someone afford to be happy at this situation? His arms remained motionless at his sides, confusing him; wasn’t he just itching to have this weeks ago? In fact, he was just dreaming about it about three days ago. So why? Why couldn’t he bring himself to hug her back?

“Your soulmate cut it. How can you be happy, Yui-chan….?” Before he knew it, his mouth spoke for him faster than his brain could process. He removed himself from the girl’s embrace, watching as confusion begin to form on her face; though it only took her milliseconds before an odd smile showed up on her face once more.

“Because that means I could finally date you without feeling guilty for my soulmate, silly!”

Atsumu felt like a hundred years had passed in just a single night and yet again, he sighed. If anyone sees him right now, they will probably laugh at his rather pathetic-looking state. Never in his life has he felt this exhausted, not even when Kita Shinsuke would force him to do an unreasonable number of receives and then make him clean the whole gym with the said captain; no, not even that could beat this fatigue and strangely, it makes him miss the captain.

Maybe he should’ve just gone home before 7PM, like Osamu said. He then shudders as he remembers that he still has to face his twin’s wrath.

“Can’t I just go back to being a toddler… like the brats that have no problem in the world?” He whines to himself quietly, relief spreading throughout his whole body as he sees your shared apartment; can already smell the meal Osamu cooked for you four; can visualize the disgusted look your brother will give him once he enters the house, all sweaty and gross-looking. Though, he thinks it’s odd that upon looking at the window of your room and Kiyoomi’s, he finds that they weren’t lit up unlike the usual. Maybe they’re already asleep, he shrugs given that you both love getting your beauty rest as much as you can. Twins, you are.

As careful as possible, he opens the front door, wincing when it makes a sound that would possibly wake up the very sensitive ears of Sakusa Kiyoomi from his room downstairs.

“Don’t bother trying to be quiet, Atsumu. You’re not going to wake anyone up in this house,” The voice of Osamu startles him. Fastly recovering from the mini-scare, he turns to his twin to glare while clutching his chest in hopes to calm his heart down, only to stop when he finds his brother glowering at him with a much worse scowl on his face.

“Samu, I’m sorry. I just got caught up with som–”

“You know, Tsumu, it’s kind of ironic, don’t you think? You always come around when it’s already too late,” Osamu speaks, trying to find the right words to say, “YN and Kiyoomi… they left and went back to their parents’ home. They will be staying there until YN and her mom leaves for abroad which would be in less than a month, right after this semester ends.”

Miya Atsumu was self-centered, conceited, prideful, juvenile, and so many more that it would take Kiyoomi more than a day to list all the things he detested from the boy. He didn’t care if you gave up and break off your friendship with him… at least that’s what he believed. But like Sakusa Kiyoomi, he was also human – and at that moment, as his brother stares at him and waits for a reply, he only stays still. Why is it that instead of the volleyball he was holding at the gym moments ago, it’s his heart that’s about to burst?

⤷ notes. we didn't have internet connection for a whole day and phew.. this was the result of me being bored out of my wits, i guess? and i apologize in advance for the pain that i keep on giving and WILL keep on giving :>

#haikyuu smau #haikyuu x reader #atsumu smau #iwaizumi smau #atsumu x reader #iwaizumi x reader #haikyuu headcanons #atsumu headcanons #iwaizumi headcanons #miya atsumu #iwaizumi hajime #haikyuu

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americasass91 · 4 years

Text

Just a Negotiation

^chose this photo because arms🥵

This will most likely be my last submission for #shamelesshoesforchris. I’ve enjoyed this challenge SO much! Thank you @stargazingfangirl18 and @navybrat817 for hosting such an awesome challenge! This is the longest fic I’ve written so far. I’m such a hoe for Steven Grant so he’s the star of this one. I hope you enjoy it!

Prompts:

“Can you just not right now?”

“I don’t deserve you”

Words: 6.8k

Rating: Explicit(I can’t seem to help myself)

Warnings: Smut, angst, reader not admitting feelings, Steve being Steve, language, unprotected sex, lil cockwarming

“Ah, fuck! Right there, Steve! Don’t stop!”

“Couldn’t stop if I wanted too, sweetheart.”

He grabs your hips and bounces you on him even faster. Planting his feet on the floor so he can meet your thrusts.

Usually he’s the one on top and you’re just along for the ride. But today he told you he wanted you to ride him. He didn’t have to tell you twice.

He’d already made you come twice with his fingers and mouth. So it’s no surprise that you can already feel yourself on the precipice of pleasure once again.

He leans back from sucking on your neck. “You gonna come for me,Y/N? I can feel you squeezing my cock.”

You moan in reply. You aren’t able to form any words at the moment. He’s hitting your g spot with every thrust. You tangle your hands in his hair and slam down on him hard one last time as your orgasm hits you like a freight train.

“Fuck, Y/N. Yes! Feels so good. You’re gonna make me come.”

His thrusts become even harder and faster than before. You know he’s close.

You lean forward and bite his earlobe as you clench down on him, “Come on, Captain. Fill me up. I want it.”

At your words he throws his head back and lets out a loud groan, coating your insides with his spend. His thrusts come to a stop as he rests his forehead against your chest, trying to catch his breath. You run your hands through his hair, your own breathing coming back to normal.

He brings his head up and leans in for a kiss. He pulls away and smiles. “So, same time next week?” He chuckles as he lifts you off of him and stands you up. “Sorry but I have a mission to get ready for. I think most of your clothes are in here, although I think your shirt is in the living room.”

“You and I both know we won’t last until next week, Rogers.” You start gathering your clothes, dressing as you go. You’d never admit it to him, but it always hurts your feelings a little bit when he kicks you out so quickly after your trysts.

Once he’s dressed in sweats and a too tight shirt, he comes over for a goodbye kiss. “That’s true, Y/N. You can’t resist all of this.” He gestures down his body with a chuckle.

You laugh at him. “Unless I have other plans.” You head out of his bedroom in search of your shirt. He follows you and leans against the doorway to his bedroom with his arms crossed, an amused expression on his face. “And what plans would that be?”

You finally locate your shirt and put it on. You head for your purse by the door. “I don’t know, but I could. My life doesn’t revolve around you, Rogers.”

You hear him chuckle. “Okay, tell that to my cock, sweetheart. You’ve been over here every night for the past 2 weeks. Not that I’m complaining.”

You turn around and face him. “I just wanted to create the illusion that I had a life. You know where to find me when you need a release.”

He gives you a smile that makes your knees feel weak. “That I do, Y/N. Have a good night.”

“Good luck on your mission!”

You wave and open his front door, glancing in the hall to make sure nobody is around. Once you realize the coast is clear, you close the door behind you and head back to your room.

You always hate this part. Your walk of shame. Some part of you always feels a little bit like a cheap whore. Although you agreed to this. So really you have nobody to blame but yourself.

See, you and Steve agreed awhile ago to become friends with benefits. It started with you complaining about going through a dry spell. He offered to help out. You know since he’s such a helpful kind of guy.

At first you declined his offer, stating you didn’t want to ruin your friendship. He understood and that was that.

Then a few nights later you had the worst date you had ever been on. You came back to the compound in a horrible mood. You’d really thought this date would’ve been a guarantee for sex. Then the guy turned out to be a total douche. You told him you had to ‘go to the bathroom’ and you made a beeline for the exit.

You stomped right up to Steve’s room and banged on his door.

He answered and looked confused to see you standing there. “Didn’t you have a date tonight? It’s not even 8:30. Is everything ok?”

You push your way inside and shut his door. “Listen, Rogers. I’m going to be real with you. The guy was a douche so I left early. So I was wonder-” He cuts you off. “He didn’t hurt you did he? Cause I’ll kill him if he did.”

You smile at his willingness to protect you. “No, Steve, he didn’t hurt me. He was just some self entitled, trust fund prick who thought the world revolved around him. I couldn’t stand another minute of him telling me how amazing he was. So I left and came straight here. I wanted to know if your offer still stood?”

His brows furrow. “You mean the offer about ending your dry spell? Yes, that offer still stands.”

You surge forward and crash your lips onto his. He reciprocates quickly and wraps his arms around your waist. After a few minutes of urgent kisses he pulls back. “Wait, wait. I just want you to know that I’m not interested in a relationship. With our line of work, I just don’t have time for one.”

You nod in understanding. “That’s great, Steve. But I’m trying to get some dick, not a relationship. And besides, this’ll only be a one time thing.”

That was the first lie you told yourself. At first it was only going to be a one time thing. But the sex turned out to be fucking phenomenal. So one time turned into two that turned into three and so on.

The next lie you told yourself was that you weren’t going to catch any feelings for him. Which you hadn’t for the first couple weeks into your negotiation. Then that all shot to hell. He’s Steve Rogers for goodness sake. How could you not fall for him?

Which leads you back to now. You know you should cut it off with him. But you can’t. You did a stupid thing and fell in love with him. And he’s let you know more than once he doesn’t have time for a relationship.

You finally reach your door and sigh in relief you didn’t run into anyone else. You and Steve have done a pretty good job at keeping this thing between you guys a secret. You plan to keep it that way.

You open your door and turn on the lights and just about jump out of your skin. Sitting on your couch is none other than your best friend, Nat. “Jesus, you scared the shit out of me!”

She stands and heads towards you. “Sorry, bug. Couldn’t resist scaring you. So, how’s Steve?”

You can feel the blush heating up your face. You turn and head towards your kitchen. “What? Nat, it’s 2 in the morning. Why would I know how Steve is? I was just working out some frustrations in the gym.” You grab 2 bottles of water out of the fridge and turn to toss her one.

She catches it and just gives you an amused look. “Oh come on, Y/N. I’m a trained assassin and spy. I know you guys are hooking up.” She twists the cap off her water and takes a sip.

“How did you find out?” There’s no use in denying it. You can’t lie to her. She knows you too well.

“Well besides the fact that you guys are always near each other and finding ways to touch each other? I walked to his room a few weeks ago to go over some paperwork with him and heard you guys. I gotta say, Steve has a dirty mouth on him.”

You groan as you head towards your couch. “Well we did a good job keeping it a secret up until now.”

She joins you on the couch. “How long has this been going on for exactly?”

You think for a minute. “About a year, give or take.”

She gapes at you. “You’ve been fucking Rogers for a year and I’m just now finding out about it? I mean is it just fucking? Are you guys in love? Why didn’t you tell me? What’s he like in bed? How big is it? I thought I was your best friend?”

You grab her shoulders and shake her a little. “Whoa calm down, Nat! First of all, yes. It’s just fucking. I didn’t tell you because Steve and I agreed to just keep it between us because we didn’t want to complicate things any further. And he’s the best I’ve ever had okay? His dick is amazing and has probably ruined me for all other guys. And you are my best friend. I’m sorry I didn’t tell you sooner. Do you forgive me?” You give her the best puppy dog eyes you can muster at 2 am.

“Of course I forgive you, bug. But you didn’t answer all of my questions.” She smirks at you. You give her a confused look. She just rolls her eyes. “Are you guys in love?”

You look down at your hands in your lap. “I mean, I am. He’s not. He doesn't want a relationship right now.” You raise your head and look at your best friend. “But yes, I’m so in love with him it hurts. And if this is all I can have with him, then I’ll take it.”

She tilts her head to the side as if contemplating something. “Have you told him how you felt?”

You about spit the water you had in your mouth out before quickly swallowing it. “What? No! Of course I haven’t. He doesn’t love me. I’d just be setting myself up for failure.”

“How do you know that? How do you know he doesn’t feel the same? Maybe he’s scared to tell you. Come on! This is Steve we are talking about. Tell him! What’s the worst that could happen?”

You just stare at Nat in disbelief . “Um, he could hear me! And he would’ve told me by now. Right?”

Nat just shrugs her shoulders. “Not if he was afraid to tell you for the same reasons you’re afraid to tell him. Come on, Y/N. Yeah it might be hard to do but at least if you tell him you’ll know once and for all.”

She does have a point. If by some miracle he does feel the same then this could be the best thing that you ever do. If he doesn’t feel the same then at least you can cut ties and move on. You were tired of crying yourself to sleep at night over it. You look back at Nat. “Okay, I’m gonna do it. Tomorrow I’m gonna tell him and then I’ll know.”

She smiles and hugs you. “That’s great, Y/N. But it’s gonna have to wait until he gets back from the mission he’s going on tomorrow.” You furrow your brows. “Oh shit, that’s right. What kind of mission is it?”

“Just a simple undercover one. It’s just him and Sharon going. They have to pose as a married couple to try to get in good with some illegal drug smugglers. We think they’re involved with HYDRA. So they are going to check things out. Should be back in a week or so.”

“Won’t that be awkward with the two of them? I mean they dated for awhile.”

“It shouldn’t be, I mean they split on good terms. Promised to stay friends. I’m sure it’ll all work out fine. Besides it’ll give you plenty of time to work up the courage to tell him your feelings.” She smirks and stands to head towards the door.

You roll your eyes at her and bid her goodnight.

As she shuts the door behind her you can’t help but to think she’s right. It will take you the whole time he’s away for you to work up your courage.

It’s been 3 weeks since you’ve seen Steve. He came back from his mission today. You had psyched yourself up the whole time he was away.

That’s what led you to knocking on his door only hours after he got back. You hope you gave him enough time to debrief and shower the mission off.

Here goes nothing. You knock hesitantly.

The door swings open and Steve greets you with a smile. “Y/N! I didn’t expect to see you so soon but I’m glad you’re here. I need to talk to you.” He leans down to give you a hug and leads you inside.

“Really? That’s great cause I need to talk to you too.” You head to sit on his couch and look at him expectantly.

“You do? Okay then you go first.” He offers as he sits next to you.

“No, no. You go first. I insist.” You pat his hand, encouraging him to speak so you could hurry up and spill your guts to him.

“Okay, so something happened on the mission. Between Sharon and I. I think there’s still something between us. Nothing physical happened because I didn’t think that was right considering what you and I have going on. But I think we want to give it another shot.”

Your heart falls into your stomach. You do all you can to keep your smile. “Oh! Well that’s great news, Steve.”

“It is? I mean you’re not upset? I wanted to talk to you and put an end to this whole friends with benefits thing before I pursued anything with her.”

“Why would I be upset? Consider it ended. I mean it was just a negotiation between friends right? Thank you though, Steve. That was very considerate of you to talk to me about it first.”

He gives you his 100 watt smile. “Of course, Y/N. I mean I know we’ve been having sex but you’re my friend first and always. Unless you think there’s any reason I shouldn’t ask her out?”

He looks at you expectantly.

“Nope, I don’t see any reason why you shouldn’t. Who knows? Maybe this will lead to that happy ending you're always talking about.”

He looks just the slightest bit disappointed but the look is gone almost as fast as it appeared. “Okay, great. Now you said you had to talk to me? What’s up?”

Oh shit, you can’t tell him now. You quickly pull some excuse out of your ass. “Oh, um. I was just wondering if you’d spar with me? I’m getting a little lazy in my fighting and I think you could help me?”

“Of course. I’d be happy to. How about we start tomorrow? Say 8am?”

“Sure! Thanks, Steve. I gotta get going. Promised Nat I’d watch a movie with her. But hey, good luck with Sharon.”

You get up as quick as you can without it looking too suspicious. He stands up and walks you to the door. “Yeah, thanks. So I’ll see you in the morning?”

You open his front door and turn to look at him. “You bet!”

You shut the door behind you and high tail it to Nat’s room.

Just as you're about to knock, the door opens. Nat looks startled that you’re standing there. “Y/N, hey. I thought you’d be with Steve.”

You push her back inside and slam the door shut. “I was with Steve. And guess what, Nat? He ended things between us. He’s asking Sharon out again. Says he thinks there’s still something there.”

Nat pulls you into a hug. “Even after you told him how you felt? I’m going to kick his ass.” She pulls away and heads towards the door.

“Wait, Nat. No, I didn’t get the chance to tell him. After he told me he wanted to end things I couldn’t do it. He wants to be with her. I just want him to be happy. And if that doesn’t include me then so be it.” You’re doing your best to not cry.

She rolls her eyes. “Oh come on. Don’t cry on me now. I mean it’s not like they made it work the first time. I’ll give it 2 weeks before they break up. Then you can tell him how you feel!”

Now it’s your turn to roll your eyes. “You’re insane if you think I’m telling him anything now. And I’m not betting on his relationship to fail.”

She puts her hands on your shoulders. “Trust me, bug. In a few weeks this’ll all be over and you’ll be in his arms instead.” She winks at you.

“All right, Sharon and I have an announcement to make! We wanted you guys to be the first to know since you’re our family. We’re getting married!”

You were going to kill Nat. 6 months ago she told you this wouldn’t last. Now here you were in the middle of one of Tony’s extravagant parties, hearing Steve’s engagement announcement.

You could feel your heart shattering into pieces. Because of course you still loved him. Those feelings haven’t gone away. You blink back your tears as you hurriedly search the crowd for Nat. You find her and she’s already giving you an apologetic look.

You had to get out of there before the tears fell. You turn around and head towards the elevators as quick as you can. You need some air. You get in and turn in time to see Steve looking at you with confusion. The doors close before your tears fall. Thank god. You hated crying and especially in front of people. You push the button for the roof. You let yourself have a good cry until the doors open again, signaling your arrival.

You head over to the railing and look out at the grounds. You never should’ve agreed to that whole friends with benefits thing. If you hadn’t, you wouldn’t be in this mess.

You wipe your tears away on the back of your hand.

About 10 minutes pass before you hear the elevator doors open. “So this is where you ran off to.”

You whip your head around to meet Steve’s blue eyes. He walks toward you and leans on the railing next to you. “Why’d you take off? They brought out champagne to celebrate. I know how much you love champagne.”

You chance a glance at him, hoping it’s dark enough that he can’t tell you’ve been crying. “Yeah, I just needed some air. Sorry about that. Why did you follow me? Shouldn’t you be with your new fiancée?”

He smiles at that. “Yeah well you looked upset. I wanted to make sure you were okay. And she’s busy showing everyone her ring anyways. Probably doesn’t even realize I’m gone.”

You return his smile. “Well, I’m happy for you. If anyone deserves their happy ending, it’s you.”

He pulls you into a hug. “Really? You mean that?”

You pull away and step back. You can feel the tears coming again. “Of course I do, Steve. You’ve done so much. You deserve all the happiness you can find.”

“Thanks, Y/N. That really means a lot.”

You turn and look out at the grounds again. “So, have you guys set a date yet?”

He chuckles and turns to stare out at the grounds with you. “Actually yeah. We’re getting married in 2 weeks.”

You turn towards him with wide eyes. “Holy shit, Steve! 2 weeks! Are you crazy? What’s the rush? That’s a whole lot of planning in such a short amount of time.”

He looks at you and rubs the back of his neck. “I know. But Sharon wants to get married at the Plaza. The only date available anytime soon is in 2 weeks. It was either that or we had to wait 3 years for the next available date. I even pulled the Captain America card. That’s what got us the spot we have now.”

“Wow, well good luck with that.” You pat him on the shoulder.

“Actually I was wondering if you could help out? I’m going to ask everyone to pitch in. I know it’s a tall order but with everyone on board, I know we can make it work.”

“Of course. Whatever you need me to do. But I really have to pee so I think I’m gonna go.” You start heading back towards the elevator. “Just let me know what needs to be done!” You step inside the doors as soon as they open and push the button to make the doors close before he can follow.

You cry as you descend to your floor. You can’t believe Steve’s getting married. You should’ve just told him how you felt. Maybe he would’ve chosen you. You scoffed at yourself. ‘Yeah right. Chosen me over Sharon Carter. Get real. I’ll never be in her league.’ You think as the doors open.

You hurry to your door, not surprised to see Nat standing there.

“There you are! Are you okay?” She opens her arms and lets you fall into them. You cry on her shoulder. She rubs her hand up and down your back. “Come on, let’s get you inside. Nobody needs to see you like this.” You pull away from her and open your door with your key.

Once inside you let loose. “What the actual fuck, Nat! You gave it 2 weeks! Well guess what? They’re getting married in 2 weeks! Yeah! Apparently Sharon just has to get married at the Plaza and that was the only date available.”

“I’m sorry, bug. I really didn’t think they would last. Let alone get married. I really thought he loved you too!”

“Can you just not right now? We were both wrong. I admit I was also hoping it wouldn’t last long. But it’s done, it’s over. Can we just not talk about it anymore?” You had raised your voice, letting the tears continue to fall.

She just gives you a sympathetic look. “Sure, Y/N. Let’s talk about something else. Did you happen to see who Sam was getting all cozied up to?”

You smile and wipe your tears away yet again and engage in the gossip with your best friend. You give her a hug and apologize for yelling.

The next 2 weeks flew by.

You and Nat were currently on your way back to the compound from Sharon’s bachelorette party. She had invited all the girls so you decided it was a great opportunity to get drunk. Even Nat let loose and had too many.

You were in the elevator with her on the way to your floor. You were leaning on each other and laughing at god knows what. The doors open and you both stumble out. You manage to catch yourself on the wall but Nat falls to the ground.

“Oh, shhiiit, babe! You ok?” You slur as you attempt to pick her up. Thank god Sam and Steve choose this time to turn the corner.

“Nat! Dammit are you ok?” Sam asks as he helps her up. She leans against him and starts laughing. “Willssoon! I need to pee really bad. Take me to my room!” She points in the wrong direction. Sam turns to Steve. “I’ll take this one if you take that one?” He nods his head in your general direction. You’re still laughing at Nat falling down. Steve nods. “I got her.” He turns towards you as Sam navigates Nat to her room.

“Hey there, Y/N. You have a little too much to drink?” He asks as he goes to grab your waist. You flinch away at his touch and almost fall down in the process. “Don’t you have your ‘fiancée’ to take care of?”

Steve rolls his eyes at you. “She’s staying with a friend tonight. The wedding is tomorrow and we’re not supposed to see each other. Now let me help you get to your room please.”

He goes to grab for your waist again and this time you let him. All you want to do is sleep and you know he’ll get you to your bed faster. It takes him no time at all to help you to your door and again help you unlock it since you couldn’t seem to get the key in the lock. He leads you inside and sits you on the couch. “You need to drink some water and take some pain pills. You stay here and I’m going to go get those for you.”

“Thanks, Stevie. Always doing the right thing. Always choosing the right girlfriends. I knew that’d never be me.” You kick your heels off as best you can and wrap yourself in your blanket on the couch.

Steve comes back with the water and pills. “What do you mean it would never be you? What are you talking about?”

You snatch the pills out of his hand and swallow them down with the water he offered you. “I just knew I’d never be your girlfriend. Nat lied to me. She told me you felt the same about me. But I knew deep down you didn’t. Why would you? I’m just Y/N. You’re Steve! Handsome, amazing, funny Steve. And it doesn’t hurt that you’re the best I’ve ever and will ever have in bed. And you have a really nice penis.” You start giggling as you lay down. Sleep was starting to take over.

Steve crouches down and touches your cheek. “How do you feel about me, Y/N?”

You smile sadly at him. “Why I love you, Steve. But that doesn’t matter. You have Sharon. Your happy ending.” You close your eyes and feel yourself going under.

Steve sits back and stares at your now sleeping form. You love him. Did you mean it? He’d always heard from a drunk mind comes a sober heart.

He could feel his heart rate increase. What did this mean? You loved him? Why didn’t you ever tell him? Wait. Why was he worried about this? He was getting married tomorrow. He should be worried about the wedding going smoothly.

He shook his head and stood up to head back to his room. You couldn’t have meant it. You were drunk. You didn’t know what you were saying.

Those were the thoughts swimming around Steve’s mind as he tried to catch some sleep.

You wake up on your couch. ‘Huh, I don’t remember getting to my room last night’ You think as you grab your phone to check the time. It’s 11. The wedding starts at 1. Shit. If you were going to make it on time you needed to start getting ready. Did you even want to go?

Just then you hear a knock on your door. You throw your blanket off of you and go to see who it is.

You open your door to reveal Nat with 2 cups of coffee. “Here, thought you might need this. Do you feel as bad as I do?”

You take a sip of the coffee. “Actually, no. I feel fine. Although I don’t remember getting back to my room last night.”

“Oh, yeah. I ran into Sam in the kitchen. Steve helped you to your room. Sam helped me to mine. Apparently I fell down and you were laughing at me.”

You snort into your coffee. “Sorry. But that explains why I don’t feel bad. Steve always makes me drink water and take pain meds when I drink too much and I always wake up feeling ok.”

She glares at you. “At least he was nice enough to do that. Sam just dropped me inside my door and left. I woke up on the floor this morning. He thinks it’s hilarious. That’s ok, I’ll remember this the next time he gets shit faced. So you want me to pick you up at 12:30 and we can go together?”

“Actually I don’t think I’m going. I know it’s going to piss Steve off but I don’t think I can watch him get married. It’ll hurt too much.”

“Okay then I’m staying here with you.”

“No you’re not. You’re going. We don’t need Steve mad at both of us.”

“But you’re my best friend. Rogers will get over it. I want to be here for you.” She grabs your hand and gives it a squeeze.

“That’s really sweet but I’ll really be ok. How about you leave the reception early and sneak a bottle of champagne back and we’ll share it?” You smile at her.

“Okay deal. But I’m only going to stay until they cut the cake. I’ll bring you a piece along with the champagne.” She gives you a wink and heads toward the door. “I know that today is hard for you, bug. Just remember that I love you.”

You smile and blow her a kiss. “I love you too! Now go on and get ready before you’re late.”

As soon as she closes the door behind her you let the tears fall. You knew today would be hard. You just hope he’d eventually forgive you for missing his wedding.

You go take a shower and change into some pajama shorts and a shirt you’d stolen from Steve. Your heart was hurting and all you wanted to do was lay in bed.

You crawl under the covers and hope that sleep will claim you and give you some relief from the pain.

You’re startled awake by a pounding on your door. You glance at your clock and see that it’s 12:55. Nat. She must've decided to skip the wedding. You throw the covers off of you and hurry to the door.

“Nat, I told you to go to the wedding, I’m fine.” You say as you open the door. But it’s not Nat’s green eyes looking at you. It’s Steve’s blue ones. He’s standing there in his tux with the tie undone.

“Steve? Uh, pretty sure you’re getting married in like 5 minutes. What are you doing here?”

“Can I come in? I just called off my wedding so I’m pretty sure I have some angry people looking for me.”

Your eyes widen but you step aside to let him in. “Wait. Why did you call off your wedding?”

He turns around and puts his hands on his hips as he looks at you. “Did you mean what you said?”

You furrow your brows and cross your arms over your chest. “Mean what, Steve?”

“Last night. You don’t remember what you told me?”

You search through your brain for any recollection. “Um, no. Care to enlighten me?”

He takes a step toward you. “You told me you love me. I need to know if that’s true.”

Your eyes widen. God damn tequila. You knew you should’ve stopped after 4 shots.

“Well since it’s apparently out in the open, yes. It is true. Of course I love you.” You can feel your hands shaking. Nervous about what he’ll say.

“Why didn’t you ever tell me?”

“I was going to! But then you told me you were going to ask out Sharon so I knew I didn’t stand a chance.”

He furrows his brows. “What? Why wouldn’t you?”

You turn away from him as you speak. “Because, she’s perfect. She’s beautiful, funny, a total sweetheart. She’d give you the shirt off her back if you needed it. She’s considerate of others. I couldn’t compete with that.” You wrap your arms around yourself. You can once again feel tears welling up.

Steve walks up and turns you around to face him, placing his hands on your shoulders. “Yeah, you’re absolutely right, Y/N. She is all of those things and even more. But do you know what she’s not?” He brings his left hand and cups your cheek. “She’s not you.”

Your breath catches, your heart rate increases. “Wh-what? What are you saying Steve?”

He just smiles at you and pulls you closer. “I’m saying that it’s not her that I love. It’s you. It just took me awhile and your drunken confession to figure it out. I’m sorry it took me so long. I think I’ve always loved you.”

Now the tears are falling for a completely different reason. You reach up and thread your fingers through his hair. “God, you have no idea how long I’ve waited to hear you say that.”

He smiles and leans in and presses his lips to yours for a sweet kiss. You gladly reciprocate and smile into it.

Steve groans and pulls you flush up against him. One hand on your cheek, the other on your lower back.

You barely pull away, your lips still touching. “Steve, make love to me please.”

He pulls back a little more to look you in the eye. “Y/N, are you sure? That wasn’t my intention when I came here.”

You nod your head. “I know it wasn’t. But we’ve only ever fucked before. I’ve always wanted to know what it would be like to make love instead. So please?” You give him your best puppy dog eyes.

He lightly chuckles before pulling you back in for another kiss, this one more urgent than the last.

You pull him as close to you as possible and start walking backwards towards your bed.

Once you feel your mattress hit the back of your knees you break the kiss for some much needed air.

You waste no time and start undoing the buttons of Steve’s dress shirt. He takes his jacket off and starts unbuckling his belt to help you along. You lift up on your tiptoes to steal another kiss once you get the shirt unbuttoned. You push it off his shoulders and run your hands down his muscular chest. You quickly unbutton his slacks and pull those along with his briefs down his toned legs until they are pooling at his ankles. He quickly kicks them and his shoes off. You take this opportunity and grab his hard, aching cock and start stroking him up and down.

He groans and pushes you away and grabs the hem of his your shirt and gives you a look. “Are you sure you want to do this, Y/N? I’m willing to wait.”

You shake your head continuing your slow strokes. “That’s nice and very noble of you, Steve, but I’m not.”

He shakes his head with a smile and pulls the shirt over your head and drops it into the growing pile of clothes. He pushes you down on the bed and climbs on top of you, stopping once he gets to your exposed breasts. He looks up at you as he takes a nipple into his mouth, sucking and biting lightly. That’s all it takes to get you to start squirming under him. He takes his right hand and moves it between your bodies until it’s settled at your clothed core. He starts rubbing your slit, your wetness soaking through your shorts and onto his hand. “Steve, please, no teasing. Just need to feel you.”

He grunts and sits back on his haunches and gazes down at you. “So goddamn beautiful. I don’t deserve you.” He hooks his fingers into your shorts and pulls them down and off your legs, tossing them somewhere behind him.

“I could say the same about you, handsome.”

He smiles down at you and gives his cock a few languid strokes before moving back over you, leaning in for another heated kiss. He rubs his tip over your soaked slit, making sure to get nice and coated. “You ready, sweetheart? Ready for me to fill you up?”

You whine and mewl underneath him. “Yes, Steve, please.” You buck your hips and rub up against his cock causing the both of you to let out a moan. Steve pushes the head of his cock against your heat and slowly pushes in. You whimper at the stretch and pull him down for a kiss. He grabs your right hand and places it beside your head, intertwining your fingers as he bottoms out inside of you.

You throw your head back and moan his name, feeling so nice and full. He takes his right hand and cups your cheek, making you look at him. “Are you ready for me to move, sweetheart?” You can only nod as you roll your hips against his, needing some friction.

He pulls out slowly until just his tip remains before slowly gliding back in. He keeps up his leisurely pace, making you feel every drag of his cock against your walls. You wrap one leg around his hip, making him go even deeper. You plant your other foot on the bed and meet his thrusts. “That’s it, sweetheart. Pull me in deeper. You like feeling me stretch you out? Like me filling you up over and over?”

You moan out and grip his hand tighter. “Yes, Steve! Please. Harder. Need it harder.”

He happily fills your request and starts thrusting into you with more force, causing your body to move up the bed. You remove the hand that was tangled in his hair and place it on the headboard above you, keeping yourself from hitting it. “Fuck, Steve. Yes! Please don’t stop!”

He starts kissing up your neck, his thrusts never faltering. “I’m not gonna stop until you fall apart underneath me, Y/N.”

You shiver at his words. You can feel the coil in your belly threatening to snap at any moment. He leans down so his mouth is next to your ear. “I can feel you squeezing me, pretty girl. You gonna come for me? Come on, Y/N. Come all over my cock.”

You shake your head and move so you lock eyes with him. “No, don’t wanna come. Feels too good. I want it to last.” He just smiles and leans in for a kiss before pulling away to look into your eyes again. “Come on, Y/N. Wanna feel you come. Please?”

You moan at his begging. You can feel your legs shaking from holding back. You just want to last a little longer.

He moves his mouth back down to your ear. “I’ve got you, sweet girl. Come for me. I love you so much, Y/N.”

That was your undoing. The coil snaps and you come apart. A tear escapes at the intense orgasm and from Steve’s words.

Steve only lasts a few more thrusts before he pushes his face into the crook of your neck and comes with your name on his lips. His body gives out and he falls on top of you, careful not to put all of his weight on you.

He smiles into your neck and places a sweet kiss there. You sigh in pure happiness and run your fingers through his hair. You both stay like that for a few minutes with him still buried deep inside you, enjoying the intimate moment too much to move.

He lifts his head and gazes down at you with a big smile on his face. “That was amazing. The best sex we’ve ever had.” You nod in agreement. “It really was. We’re gonna need to do that again.” You giggle as he playfully rolls his eyes at you. “You’re insatiable.” You shake your head. “No, I’m in love.” He smiles and pulls you in for another kiss.

Suddenly a thought pops into your head and you pull away. “What if I would’ve said no?” He gives you a quizzical look. “What do you mean?”

“What if I didn’t love you? What if I had just been drunk and was saying stupid things?”

He just shrugs his shoulders. “I guess I was just really hoping you meant it.”

“You called off your wedding on hope?”

He shakes his head. “No, I called off my wedding because I realized that Sharon wasn’t what I wanted. I wanted you.”

You feel tears well up in your eyes again. “I love you so much, Steve.”

He leans down for another kiss. “I love you, too. You’re more than just a negotiation to me, Y/N. I hope you know that.”

You nod your head and cup his cheek. “I know that now.”

He tucks some hair behind your ear and whispers, “You’re my happy ending, Y/N.”

The tears fall at his admission and you pull him down for another perfect kiss. Glad to finally be wrapped in the arms of your love.

#shamelesshoesforchris #steve rogers #steve rogers smut #captain america #chris evans smut #chris evans #smut #steve rodgers x reader #steve rogers x reader #Cici91 writes

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umbreonix · 3 years

Text

Random Revalink Fluff

The hammock was entirely still, sheltered from all wind by the outermost rock walls of Tabantha’s massive volcanic caldera.

It wouldn’t have been Revali’s pick of spots, he usually quite enjoyed a gentle breeze but it would have been uncomfortably chilly for the hylian nestled into his side. Instead they came here, to a small cluster of cedars that overlooked the village, just far enough to be private.

That part, Revali did agree with. The privacy that was.

How had this happened?

It was absolutely absurd. He wasn’t exactly sure what this was but had the good sense to know that until it had a name, it was better to be kept a secret. He did everything in his power to keep these baffling moments hidden from the gossiping geese and glancing ganders that patrolled the spiraling wooden platforms of Rito Village for their daily blabber. Goddesses above! If nothing else, they could be commended for their unwavering hyper vigilance. If only his soldiers showed that same dedication to their own rounds.

Link moved, finally rousing from their afternoon siesta. One of his legs was tangled with Revali’s and his squishy pink little foot purposely began playing with the rito’s own much rougher and taloned one. His toes soon found and curled around Revali’s hind claw while his nose traced a slow line up his feathery side before burying into his chest.

When had this happened?

Well, he did have an answer for that. It was after the fall of the calamity. The unbearable little knight had disappeared into the Great Hyrule Forest and returned without his holy sword… and with the first smile Revali had ever seen painted across his lips.

His soul had been body-swapped and he was a different person entirely. It was the only explanation.

Except that couldn’t be the case. Even now, in this moment, as Link continued to stir awake, he began absentmindedly rubbing circular motions over the scar on Revali’s abdomen. It was the spot where he had once felt compelled, for some unknown reason, to take an arrow for the princess’ guard dog. The flesh mark had long since become hidden under his regrown feathers and so was something that this imposter could have never known about.

Therefore and in conclusion, this man he now held in his wings and the knight he once despised with all of his being were one and the same.

They hadn’t gotten to this point immediately of course.

There was a gap of time even where Link had disappeared entirely. It had to have been for over a year although Revali hadn’t cared enough at the time to keep track.

Just as he figured he was gone from his life for good, he started showing up in Rito Village.

It seemed he had been travelling. His hair had grown long and unruly, his skin was darkened by sun in all the areas that used to never see the light of day from under his clunky metal armor. There were freckles that now dotted his face and shoulders where his skin had once been the same pure porcelain as Zelda’s, indicative of how much time he spent stationed inside at various doors in the castle. When combined with his wooden expressions, he looked remarkably like one of those creepy-eyed dolls hylian girls like to carry around.

Now, in present time, his face was more often than not twisted into some wide and wild grin, matching the disorderly mottled canvas of brown spotty constellations over reddening sun-streaks in equal measure.

When he had first shown up, he mostly spent his days at the flight range. He seemed determined to finally remedy his piss-poor archery. Too little, too late if you asked the rito bowmaster but his efforts seemed to be more so for ‘fun’ than necessity. Still, his sense of self preservation was no better than when he had worked for the hylian royal family. He continually attempted death-ensuring maneuvers with his paraglider and Revali ended up having to save him from snapping his neck on the rocks below numerous times.

Soon, Link had taken to following the rito about on his daily wanderings like an imprinted fletchling.

Then, just as that strange turn of events began to feel almost normal, he began making moves.

Touches that couldn’t have been mistaken as innocent, looks that were too soft and affectionate to just be friendly.

Revali pretended to not notice and that was his downfall. By not talking about any of this, it had been taken as a sort of acceptance and, being given that inch, Link started to feel entitled to miles.

By now he had kissed just about every part of Revali’s face at one time or another. He would also often come up behind him when he wasn’t expecting it and wrap those tiny little arms around his torso and bury his face in Revali’s scarf.

Eventually, for whatever reason, Revali acquiesced to these gestures and now here they were taking afternoon naps on sunny days with the clandestine secrecy of a lover’s tryst.

Is that what they were? Lovers?

Link had grown bored with Revali’s scar and has since sat up, beginning to let his hand wander up and down his front, carefully reading and cataloguing each muscle, feather texture and imperfection (non-existent by the way)

“You hylians sure are handsy, aren’t you?” Revali finally murmured, interrupting the blond’s exploration before he could reach back up to his chest to feel Revali’s now thundering heartbeat that traitorously echoed his sudden revelations.

Link looked at him.

“Really,” Revali insisted, now curious. “Why do you all need to touch everything you see with your hands? Your whole body is covered in exposed skin is it just convenience or?”

Link pulled away the hand that had been tangled in his stomach feathers to look at it for a moment before showing it to the rito.

Revali tentatively took it, sitting up as well and turning it over in his wing, not entirely sure what he was inspecting.

“There’s ridges,” Link said, never really having lost his tendency towards short stilted sentences. “They help us feel things better.”

Revali squinted at the crinkly skin of the palm, initially thinking he was referring to the wrinkles set into the places that creased whenever he folded his hand into a fist. Then his keen falcon-like eyes noticed the patterns that spiraled all across the hills and valleys of the inner hand, extending all the way up to the pads of each finger.

He quickly examined the back of Link’s hand and down his arm where the skin looked more scaly, like what he came to expect of a skin texture, similar to what one would see on the shins and feet of a rito.

The spirals were apparently contained to just that one area of Link’s flesh.

He grazed a wing tip over the natural designs, as if he would be able to feel them though the thin hair-like feathers that fuzzed over the skin of the finger-like appendages he used to hold his bow. He couldn’t end up feeling them of course, but he could watch the way the touch-sensitive hand closed a little in ticklish reaction.

He readjusted to holding it in a more typical manner, although with the size difference of their ‘hands’ Revali had to use only the tips that approximated a pointer finger and thumb.

They weren’t lovers, but they could be.

Maybe that wouldn’t be so bad.

Link’s hair was out of its ponytail and completely free, the locks sprawled out behind him where Revali’s other wing was still cradled beneath him, bolding demonstrating how well his wheat-coloured hair was complemented by the deep navy of the feathers behind. He would look good in braids. Specifically, braids intertwined with a carefully selected assortment of Revali’s feathers.

Altogether, it would all just look… right.

Revali took Link’s hand and guided the fingers upwards to brush his cheekbones along the little specks of red feathers that he never seemed to have grown out of.

Link looked at him in surprise, unused to Revali ever initiating any of these little acts of affection.

Mind made up, he slowly trailed the hand down along his neck until it was splayed out firmly on his chest where his heart drummed through his ribcage to meet it.

His green eyes, the shade of sunlight through a leaf canopy, bore into Link’s teal ones, asking him without the words his dishonest beak would never be able to muster out anyway if he understood the message.

Link stared at him for a good long moment before nodding a leaning forward, kissing the flange of his gape at the furthest corner of his beak.

They spent the rest of the afternoon not moving from that hammock, sprawled out on their sides exchanging experimental caresses.

As lovers would do.

#insomnia driven quick fic #revalink #fluff #idk #not really ao3 worthy but a shame to let die in my documents #botw #fanfiction

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dracosaurusrex · 4 years

Text

Bookworms (Draco x Reader)

Summary: Where Y/N and Draco discover that there’s much more to each other than what meets the eye.

Word Count: 11k

Genre: Fluff (slight angst in the beginning); enemies-to-friends-to-lovers ; No Voldy AU

TW: Self-harm but it’s not too much.

A/N: Hi friends! I want to say that I don’t really know where I was going with this, but that would be a lie. So a couple of weeks ago, a friend of mine (we’ll name her @minty-malfoy) posted a tag thread and one of her responses involved her wanting to own a bookshop. It got me thinking of a bookshop romance and ugh YES. With dark academia, how could I not? Fast forward to last week, I ask her for a favor without realizing it was her birthday, and I felt so embarrassed LOL. So, yes, this is your gift my friend. I hope you enjoy it. Keep shining like the light you are!

Besides that, I genuinely hope that if you come across this, you enjoy this big chunggus of a oneshot. I apologize if it’s slow at some parts. I also didn’t proofread the end. I should probably shut up now before I start questioning my writing omll

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Written in pages bound by leather covers are worlds that bring you out of your own. An adventure. An escape. Within that escape sprouts myriads of emotions and thoughts, but what you value the most amongst them all are its gifts of perspective and solace.

Y/N Y/L/N lived the majority of her life with her mother. Her father, who was an auror, passed when she was young, leaving them to surmount the challenges of the world alone. Together, they owned a decent bookshop in Hogsmeade. Its shelves lined the walls, occupying the entire expanse from the floor up to the ceiling. Within them were books of varying genres, filling your senses with the soothing aromas of old parchment, sounds of turning pages, and the feeling of warmth and coziness. To others, this little shop was known as Avenoir Books. However, you knew it as home, your safe space, your comfort zone.

Your mother was the one responsible for introducing you to your love for reading. Growing up, you’d recall the sound of her voice as she read to you--the way that it cradled you with reassurance when times got rough. She always managed to disguise her worries, yet in moments when she thought she was alone, you had witnessed her at her lowest points. It was only within your knowledge that you knew life was difficult, for your mother would shield you from the problems that reality had actually presented to you. She carried the weight of both your worlds on her shoulders, giving you protection by surrounding you with new ones to step into as you sat yourself in the confines of your cozy shop. It was because of her that reading became your refuge, and it remained so when you went away for school at Hogwarts.

Your mother’s resilience fueled your desire to become strong, to become great, to create a new life where you wouldn’t have to see her cry in secret. She was the reason you had been sorted into the Slytherin house in your first year, and she was also the reason why you’d been so successful within your 4 years of schooling by far.

You were a quiet Slytherin, mostly keeping to yourself while observing those around you. The most interesting and exasperating individual of the entire student body was a proud and arrogant boy, Draco Malfoy. He had never picked on you, but there were countless times you had witnessed his relentlessness with others, especially with the Golden Trio. Each and every instance increased your despise for him, furthermore deepening your ardent desire to keep your distance. However, it seemed that the universe had other plans for you today.

Weekdays kept you immersed in bulky textbooks--notes constantly jotted down through endless heaps of parchment. On weekends, however, you swapped your robes for a work apron, helping your mother around the shop. She’d situate herself by the counter and typically manned the ground level, while you’d be propped on a sliding ladder, managing books that sat on shelves higher up. You had a system in Avenoir Books. Customers would typically roam about the main floor, which was occupied by books from famous publishers and authors. However, for books that were more obscure or specialized, customers would head to the counter and gain consultation from your mother. In return, she’d direct them to you, prompting you to slide amongst the shelves in search for the requested titles, genres, or authors.

The store typically had a steady flow of people passing through. You have come across many different personalities and backgrounds throughout your life. Today was quite different, however. The bustling noises slowly died down upon the entrance of a pair of notorious figures, the air suddenly becoming tense. There stood Lucius Malfoy. His chin was pointed up, platinum locks flowing over his shoulders, walking stick in hand, his eyes scanning the shop with a pompous expression on his face. Standing to his side was Draco. He maintained the same look as his father, which soon featured a scowl as it managed to grace his face.

You heard the older man mutter, “Let’s get this over with, Draco.”

The two made their way through the vicinity as gazes were trained on them. Even you stopped what you were doing to observe their actions. Lucius approached your mother, who gave much effort to keep a welcoming smile plastered on her lips.

“Mr. Malfoy, what brings you the pleasure of stopping by?” Her tone was sweet and quite inviting, although it didn’t do much to shift the man’s attitude.

“You have quite the selection here at Avenoir--I’m impressed.” His tone on the other hand was laced with a tinge of venom and arrogance. Lucius' eyes kept trained on the expanses of shelves until they landed on you.

“I assume that’s your daughter, Y/N? Draco’s told me much about her.” You couldn’t decipher whether he meant well, moreover what Draco could’ve possibly said about you to his father. You weren’t aware that the boy even knew of your existence since all you did was keep away from him at all costs.

Your mother responds, “Yes, she’s a fifth year at Hogwarts. I assume your son’s the same?”

“You’re not wrong. Although, that’s not what I’m here for…” As Lucius continues his consultation with your mother, Draco takes the liberty to browse through the various genres of books featured on the ground floor. You don’t move from your position, rather you keep your gaze on him, observing his reactions. He picks up a familiar script. It’s a muggle book entitled, The Memory Police by Yoko Ogawa. You witness him flip through the first couple of pages before focusing in on the first chapter. Slowly, you see the scowl begin to leave his face--the tension between his eyebrows dissipates, his lips release the frown that had situated itself there, and his eyes take on a more solemn and concentrated expression. It contrasted greatly to the image he maintained at school. You realized then that when he wasn’t so obnoxious and loud, Draco was actually quite handsome.

“Draco, drop that filthy muggle book!” You weren’t aware of Lucius approaching until the snake embellishment that topped his walking stick violently landed on the boy’s shoulder. You saw him wince in pain as he dropped the book, rubbing the area to soothe the harsh sensation. Before you could react, your mother calls out to you.

“Y/N, Alchemy, Argo Pyrites.” You broke out from your daze and simply nodded in understanding. The duo now had their eyes on you as you charmed the ladder to take you to the location of the book. You actively scanned the spines for the targeted title, releasing a small “aha” when you find it. Once it’s in your hands, you blow off traces of dust and ensure that the book is in mint condition. It doesn’t take you long to make your way down. As you do so, you approach Lucius and lend the book over. He takes his time to check for any disparities before meeting your gaze once again.

“Y/N is it? Pleasure to meet you.” His tone was anything but kind, but you go along with it, doing your best to maintain courtesy.

“Pleasure’s all mine Mr. Malfoy. It’s very kind of you to stop by.”

“Certainly. Draco, say goodbye to your friend, let’s get going.” Draco looks at you from top to bottom before releasing a smirk. With a quick raise of his eyebrows, he turns around and follows his father out of the shop. You watch their figures disappear into the crowd before making your way to your mother.

“Draco seems like a nice boy, doesn’t he?” You scoff and cross your arms in disagreement.

“Oh please. ‘Nice’ is the last thing he’ll ever be.” She gives you a knowing gaze.

“Did you see how his father hit his shoulder? Even I was shocked. That poor boy never saw it coming.” You recall the pained expression that Draco had on his face. You supposed his parents imposed their pureblood supremacist ideals on the boy’s choice of interests as well.

“It’s not like he doesn’t deserve the pity, mother. You should see him at school. Obnoxious! Rude! Arrogant! He bullies others mercilessly!” You expected her face to contort in disgust and disappointment, but she only gave that familiar motherly smile.

“We can’t always assume the extent of a person’s character based on what they show, darling. Similar to how we should not judge a book by its cover.” She emphasized the last point knowing that you would understand. You could never fight your mother. Despite the difficulty of getting to where you were in life, she always embodied grace and wisdom through it all.

She spoke again, “Did you happen to see the book he was reading?”

“It was The Memory Police.” You couldn’t understand why she asked. She approached the book that Draco had dropped and picked it up. When she returned, she looked at you expectantly.

“You’re going to see him again this Monday, are you not?” You nodded, “I want you to give this to him.” Your eyes widened.

“Mother, I couldn’t possibly-”

“No excuses, Y/N! A kind gesture never hurt anyone.” Her tone softens, and you knew you couldn’t say no.

“The look he had on his face reminded me of you when you were younger. Do you remember?” You only sighed, remembering the relief you felt when you cozied up to a book. She continued, “He seemed more peaceful having a little bit of time to escape don’t you think?” Your shoulders, which were once tense, dropped.

You groaned, “Fine! I’ll do it.” Mother, 1, Y/N, 0.

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Throughout the remainder of the weekend, you thought of ways you could slip the book to the platinum-haired boy without having to actually confront him. You couldn’t understand why your mother wanted to reach out to him so bad. Never in your entire life have you seen her extend that much sympathy to a customer before. Ever! That boy is a git. A rich one at that! Everything was practically given to him on a silver plate. Why would he care so much about a measly book?

These questions roamed through your mind as you packed your school bag the following Monday morning. The book was settled on top of your desk, staring and waiting for you to pick it up. With dread, you reluctantly take it and place it into your bag. With one last look in the mirror, you grab your things and make your way to the Great Hall for breakfast. As you enter the massive room, you take a seat by yourself in the Slytherin table. You took a glance to find a familiar blonde mop of hair. All of his friends were there in their usual spot with him being the only one absent, which was weird because he never skipped breakfast. Wanting to get your mom’s task over with, you approach the group. They were chattering amongst themselves, not noticing your presence.

You cleared your throat, grabbing their attention, “Um, hey. Do you happen to know where Malfoy is?” They only looked at you in awe.

“The famous Y/N actually speaks? Didn’t think I’d ever hear a word come out of you.” The girl, Pansy, pointed out. You rolled your eyes.

Another girl, Daphne, kicked the prior’s ankle, eliciting a loud yelp from her. She spoke out, “I’m sorry Y/N. He said he’s not feeling too well, so he’s cooped up in the dorm.” You appreciated the softness of her voice in contrast to Pansy’s strong tone.

“Why do you ask? You never talk to him.” It was Blaise’s turn to chime in.

“I have some business with him.” You stood there, feeling the awkwardness creeping up. Your fingers were twirling the ends of your hair and you casted your gaze elsewhere. They just stared at you, still comprehending the sound of your voice.

“Well?” You asked.

“Ah, yes. He’s in dorm 7.” You nodded your head in appreciation and turned around to leave. You had about an hour before class, giving you ample time to make the delivery and go about with your day. At least that was what you thought.

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Once you enter the Slytherin common room, you make a turn towards the boys’ dormitories. As you take the stairs leading to it, you’re met with a corridor that takes a close resemblance to the girls’. Doors were lined on either side with numbers used to differentiate them--Draco’s room was located all the way down the hall. Oddly enough, the closer you approached it, the more nervous you felt. You never imagined yourself stepping into this part of the dungeons, moreover doing so to drop something off for a boy you despised. You yelled at your mom internally for putting you through this.

The distance between you and the door kept shrinking, and as you drew closer, you began to feel strange. Something was off. The uncertainty looming in the air grew thicker until you finally found yourself standing in front of the room. Before knocking, you press your ear against the entrance. There was complete silence. You also notice that the door was not closed all the way. The animosity you felt towards the boy was gradually replaced with worry and concern.

“Malfoy? Are you in there?” You ask hesitantly. There was no response.

“Draco?” You press your ear further into the door in hopes to pick up any sign of his presence. When you received none, you pushed forward, entering the room with caution. You were met with the sight of a half-made bed, Draco’s robes and uniform laid out on top. His desk still had books turned to different pages, accompanied with an open ink bottle and quill left upon pieces of parchment. All these things, yet still no signs of the Malfoy heir. You stood in your place for a moment, trying to concentrate on his whereabouts. However, your thoughts were interrupted by the subtle sounds of sniffles. Your eyes widened as your focus redirected to locating its source. It was then that you noticed another door leading to what you believed was the bathroom. The noises became more prominent as you walked towards it. You felt nervous and uncertain about what you were going to find. As you wrap your hand around the knob to open it, your eyes widened at the sight of the boy grabbing his wrist, which was dripping with blood. On his side was a razor blade.

You gasped as his eyes met yours, your heart breaking in the process. In front of you wasn’t the same bully everyone knew. No. In front of you laid a half-naked Draco whose eyes were filled with what seemed to be hopelessness, defeat, and fright. Tear stains stroke his cheeks, his eyebrows furrowed with pain. His hair stuck to his forehead as sweat accompanied his tears. The hand gripping his wrist was stained with blood, its pressure only forcing the flow to increase.

“Draco!” You didn’t know what overcame you in that instance. You frantically threw your bag off your shoulders and proceeded to kneel next to him, taking in his wounded arm. The boy retaliated.

“What do you think you’re doing!?” His voice was defensive and strained, but it didn’t faze you.

“I’m trying to save your sorry arse! Look at how much blood you’re losing. Merlin!” You returned a gaze that matched the intensity of his. The concern in your own tone heightened as you dug into the pockets of your robes in search of your wand.

“I don’t want to be saved! Don’t you get it? Leave me alone!” He wriggled in your grasp, only inducing you to tighten the grip you had on him. He gasped at the stinging sensation, tears streaming down his face. Tears began to fill the brim of your eyes.

“Stop spewing nonsense, Malfoy! I can’t leave you and I won’t!” The pained expression on your face caught his gaze. Tears had already spilled over. “Please, Draco. Let me heal you.” The boy stopped his protests upon hearing the desperation that was laced in your voice. You used the back of your hand that was gripping your wand to wipe the tears off of your face. After calming yourself down, you hover your hand over his gashes to perform the healing spell, a serious expression now spreading across your face.

“Vulnera sanentur.” His blood begins to retract back to its origin, the rate of its flow slowing down.

“Vulnera sanentur.” Your wand continues to trace Draco’s wounds. The traces of residue begin to disappear. Draco looks at your concentrated face and then turns his gaze back onto his wrists.

You perform the incantation for a final time, “Vulnera sanentur.” The cuts disappear completely and you let out a sigh of relief. You cast a look at Draco’s stunned face before scanning his shirtless torso. It was also filled with scars that were most likely left to heal on their own. The frown on your face grows as a rush of thoughts suddenly occupy your mind. How long has he been doing this to have this many cuts and scars? Draco, behind his arrogant mask, was alone. You didn’t need him to vocalize that fact for you. It was written across his face. The expression glossed over his eyes longed for the company that he never truly had.

In that instant, you knew your mother was right. You really can’t assume the extent of a person’s character based on what they showed.

“Would it be okay if I took care of you for a bit? I don’t feel comfortable leaving you alone like this.” Your voice was soft as you released small hiccups signalling the end of your crying. Draco, who has no energy to object, simply nods. Your thoughts drift to your mother and how she was strong enough to carry both your burdens. As you recalled the love she gave you, the sour feelings that you had towards the boy faded. At that moment your only task of importance was to clean him up.

It was silent the entire time. You picked Draco up and propped him up onto a stool. He did nothing but keep his gaze on you as you walked to and fro in the bathroom. You took a face towel that was hanging on the side of the sink and wet it with cold water. You then wring the towel of excess water and wiped his face. The streaks that the tears made disappeared. You proceeded to his forehead, getting rid of the sweat and pushing his bangs upwards. You then began to wipe his neck, making sure that there was a comfortable distance between you two.

“Chin up.” You demanded. He obeyed, and you wiped over the expanse between both jaws, his throat, and down to his collar bones. You yelled at yourself mentally to focus on the action instead of the curves and crevices outlined by his skin. Luckily, you were able to keep a straight face, making no sign of being flustered whatsoever. You step back to wet the towel again before proceeding to wiping his shoulders. At this point, you began feeling warmth spreading across your face. Draco let out a small laugh.

“Like what you see?” He asks with a broken voice. You snickered at the way he managed to be funny at a time like this.

“I’m only being nice, Malfoy. Don’t let your head get big. Not that it hasn’t already.” You say, giving a coy smile. You gulp discretely as you make your way down his chest. His eyes never leave you. You purposefully wipe that area much faster to prevent you from blushing even more. Once you get to his wrists, you rub circles on the area where the cuts used to be before running the towel over it and to his hands.

“How do you feel?” You ask.

“Better.”

“Good. Cup your hands for me please.” He follows your instruction once again. “Aguamenti.” A stream of water flows from the tip of your wand and into his palms.

“Drink up.” He remains obedient. Once he finishes, you pour in water once again, having him repeat the act. You feel at ease as he gulps the water down. His body still looks limp, and his face still gaunt, but it was a huge improvement considering the state he was in when you walked in.

Your gaze settles on the floor and the stray blade, both covered in dried blood. “Tergeo.” You mutter, cleaning up the mess.

You point your wand to the blade, “Evanesco.” It disappears in an instant. You turn back to Draco. You wrap your arm around his torso and bring him close to you to help him maintain his balance as you step out of the bathroom.

“Where do you keep your sleepwear?” You ask. He points to the cabinet, and you go forth to take out a t-shirt and a pair of sweatpants. You hand him the articles of clothing and turn around to leave him to change.

He laughs, “You’re silly you know? You’ve already seen me half-naked, yet you turn around.” You only shrug and chuckle before turning around to meet his gaze. He leans on the side of the bed, arms crossed.

“I have yet to ask, Y/N. What brought you here in the first place?” You were so absorbed in healing and cleaning Draco that your initial purpose for coming over flew past your mind.

“Oh yes,” You pick up your bag that laid on the floor, and rummaged through it before pulling out his copy of The Memory Police.

“Mother saw how peaceful you looked when reading this book at the shop. She heavily insisted that I bring it to you, saying that you can use an escape too.” You lean on the space beside him as you hand him the book. His eyes widened as he cautiously took the book out of your hands, as if his father would appear right this instant. He scanned the cover, and flipped through the pages, his eyes glossed with disbelief. The sight of him like this made you imagine how much of his life had been kept in a cage. Wealth did not serve as a basis for happiness. You could only guess how much expectations were held for the Malfoy heir.

“My father would object to me having this.” You nodded in understanding, rubbing his shoulder to comfort him. He looks up at you.

“I won’t push you to tell me the reasons why you decided to harm yourself, but I’m certain that you need a break from whatever bothered you in the first place. Please, keep it. My mother will nag me without end if I don't deliver it.” He smiles.

“Thank you. I mean it.” Your jaw dropped. He rolled his eyes.

“Draco Malfoy actually knows how to say ‘thank you’.” You say, mocking a look of disbelief. He scoffed and his scowl reappeared in an instant.

You raised your arms in defense, “What? You can’t blame me.” You both share a laugh before silence overtakes you once again. Your head faced downward, and you kept your sights on your shoes.

“Thank you for letting me take care of you. It frightened me to see you like that.” You fumbled with your fingers.

“It’s a miracle that you came, Y/N. I don’t think I’d be able to stop myself if you hadn’t yourself.” You smiled. You were appalled with the fact that there was a soft side to the boy. You looked at him, remembering the comfort that you found in your mother’s love through books. In that moment, an idea sprung forth in your mind.

“Ever since I was young, it was only me and my mother. Father passed when I was 2, and we were left alone to face the world.” You looked at him to find that his attention was on you. You continued, “There were plenty of times I felt hopeless and scared, but it was the comfort of her voice that washed that feeling away. She’d stay by my side at night to read me books, and she always managed to take me to worlds that detached me from the reality that we lived in. She told me that Avenoir, besides it being a bookstore, was established to become my safe space, my comfort zone, my refuge, if you will. She’s why I love reading.” You took Draco’s hand and gave it a squeeze.

“And I want to extend that to you. Please feel free to come by whenever okay? We’ve never been that close, and you have been pretty gittish, but no one deserves to feel alone.” You gave the boy a reassuring smile.

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Draco gazed at his hand, which was still squeezed in yours. He then shifted his view back to the smile on your face. Y/N Y/L/N, the most reserved and studious Slytherin in their year, surely had a lot to say, but it was surprisingly the most relief he has felt in a long while, if ever. She gave his shoulder a little squeeze before picking up her belongings from the floor. Before she left his dorm she faced him once more.

“Will you be okay on your own?” She asks. Draco nods and gives his signature eyebrow raise. She chuckles.

“If you need anything, I’ll be in my dorm. I don’t plan on going to class today.” As he watches her leave, he notices the warmth that spreads over his chest. He brushes it off before flopping on his bed and immersing himself into the world of the Memory Police. For once in his life, he manages to escape the burdens of his family name. He escapes the burdensome fear of being considered a let-down to his parents. He escapes the rabbit hole of expectations, worries, pressures--the need to be “perfect” Draco. He finds an escape from the reputation that he upholds through you. Furthermore, he finds himself desiring more of your company. Because of this, he moves from his bed, with his book in hand, and strides into the girls’ dormitories. He never got her room number, but when he sees an open door, he automatically assumes that it’s her inside. Without thinking, he barges at the sight of her stunned face.

“Draco? What’s the matter?” The boy takes a good look at Y/N’s space. Her bed is made neatly and is stationed against the farmost wall in front of a large window. Her table is positioned at the end of her bed. There were a number of small bookcases that cover a majority of the perimeter of the room. It’s cozy.

He takes a moment to compose himself. “Is it alright if I can stay with you? Just a little longer?” The girl gives him a confused look, but agrees nevertheless.

“Sure, close the door.” He does as she says, and looks around. Her dorm truly reflected her personality. Her words break him out of his daze.

“You can sit on the bed if you’d like.” As he gets himself situated, he observes her. Y/N was known for her hardworking nature, and mostly stayed away from socialization because of it. In that regard, she never really had much to say unless she was answering a question during lectures. She doesn’t say much once he’s situated. Instead, she quietly turns back to her desk to focus on her note taking, actively highlighting important bits of information from her books. Draco was amazed to say the least.

“Y/N, why is it that you study so much?” He asks. Her gaze remains rooted to her work as she finished writing up the last sentence before gazing up at him. She grins.

“I’m working hard, so I can earn enough to give my mother a better life.” She says simply.

“Is the life you have right now not enough?” He doesn’t mean to come off as ignorant or insensitive, but he asks out of pure curiosity. Y/N only rubs her chin to think of a proper response.

“Don’t get me wrong, we’re both happy. I just suppose it would be nice to know that she wouldn’t have to worry about her resources. Life was always uncertain before opening Avenoir. I remember how she would hide away to cry so I wouldn’t see her tears. I felt helpless and I couldn’t do anything about it. I hate being weak because of that.” Draco simply gawked at her. The availability of resources has never been an issue for him; it felt like a slap on the face seeing how hard Y/N worked for that level of accessibility.

“I feel like a lot of people have been gawking at me today. Stop it.” You chuckled as you scratched the back of your neck, recalling the reactions of his friend group as you held a conversation with them.

“You’re surely something else, Y/L/N. That’s all.” Y/N only smiled as she removed herself from her desk. She pulled a random book from one of her shelves and sat herself next to Draco. Together they get lost within their own worlds.

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

There was a mutual feeling of friendship that emerged between you and Draco. However, the both of you never bothered to make it obvious in the presence of others. Actions so far were limited to discrete nods towards each other in the hallways. Nevertheless, you were content. You didn’t see him constantly, but you heard people talk about him and how he hasn’t been teasing or picking fights with students as much as he did in the week prior. It was a change you were surprised with, but one that you were pleased to hear about regardless. Besides that, you still kept yourself to your own tasks throughout the remainder of the week. It was a set cycle, which involved going to lecture and studying within the confines of your room. Although, you had to admit that you enjoyed the blonde’s presence, and secretly wished that you’d spend more time together.

The weekend arrived, which meant you’d resume your work at the bookshop. The day flew by fast. Customers came bustling in by the hour that you never had much time to talk to your mother while you were working. As you waited for demands to trickle in, you occupied yourself with another book, The Happy Prince by Oscar Wilde. It was a pleasant book about selflessness, however you found your mind drifting off often. When you weren’t reading, you kept your eyes peeled for the entrance, hoping that a certain boy would come in. However, no sign of the Malfoy heir showed as hours passed. Your hopes soon depleted. Giving up on the chances of him coming, you resumed your reading.

It must’ve been about 20 minutes after 3 o’clock when your mother calls you from the counter. You heeded her request and made your way down the ladder. Behind her are large boxes filled with new books that were to be stored on the higher shelves. As you drag them to the base of the ladder, your back bumps into something hard.

“I’m so sorry! Are you al-” As you turn to identify the person you collided with, your eyes widened at the sight of Draco. Your heart skips a beat as you scan his appearance. He sported a black turtleneck that fitted securely around his torso, which was paired with dark plaid pants, and black leather chelsea boots. Rings adorned his fingers, and his platinum locks are slightly disheveled from the wind. He looked delicious rather expensive.

Draco was just as shocked when he realizes that it’s you he bumps into. You weren’t wearing anything fancy as he was--just a simple white shirt, straight jeans that ended just above your ankles, faded white sneakers, which was all adorned by the work apron that wrapped around your waist. Your hair was tied into a loose bun that settled at the nape of your neck with some stray strands framed around your face. It contrasted to your typical appearance at school. He preferred you in casual wear much more than in uniform, but he wasn’t going to admit that.

You straighten your posture, “Hey! What brings you here?” The boy in front of you rubs the back of his neck bashfully.

“I just wanted to spend time here. You offered on Monday.” His timidness made you smile.

“You’re definitely welcome to stay-” You were interrupted by your mother’s gleeful shout.

“Draco! It’s so nice to see you! Please do make yourself comfortable. I assume Y/N delivered the book safely?” You rolled your eyes and let out a groan.

“Yes, mother. I did.” She only laughs in response. “I extended an offer to have him hang around if you don’t mind.”

“Not at all! Would you like some tea, dear?” The warm welcome fills the boy’s heart.

He gives a polite nod, “That would be lovely, thank you.” He looks to you with amusement plastering his facial features.

“Would you like some help?” The smile that you give to him in response makes his heart flutter.

“I’ll be okay. Like what mother said, please make yourself comfortable.” You reassured him, before urging him to follow you to the back of the shop. Past the counter is a corridor that leads to a small outdoor patio. Fairy lights are strung on the edges of the fence that borders the space, and a table for two is set near the entrance that goes back into the store. As the sun begins to set, the small set up becomes even more charming.

“It’s not much, but this is us.” Your arms spread as you step towards the center of the patio. Draco looks around and then back at you.

“It’s lovely.” He states with a happy grin stretched across his lips. The space doesn’t hold the same grandeur as his manor, but within the small and cozy confines, he feels safe and content.

“I’m glad to hear that. Take a seat! I still have work to do, but I’ll be clocking out soon. Stay as long as you’d like!” The joy in your voice doesn’t go unnoticed. It’s quite difficult to suppress the emotions after the anticipation that has built up throughout the day. With your spirits lifted, you return to work. The load of the boxes don’t seem as heavy as they used to.

Draco sits around in silence for a bit with his hands clasped together. The thought of being within your personal space makes his knees bounce up and down as he waits for his tea. Wanting to release his nerves, he explores the compound a bit more. He steps into the corridor, taking notice of the way it’s decorated. Pictures of you and your mother grace the walls. The sight urges him to look out in the front of the shop. He catches you piling books in your arms before making your way up the ladder. In doing so, he takes note of your focused face, the furrowing of your eyebrows, and the slight parting of your lips. Your eyes blazed in determination, sparking that particular warmth in his chest again. Draco tore his gaze from you and redirected it to the photos mounted on the wall. One that caught his interest was of you on your mothers back. Your small arms were wrapped tightly around her shoulders as your small face peered over her with a small toothy grin. He notices the light in your eyes. It had remained the same ever since. He stares at the photos for a couple of minutes.

“You found our pictures!” Your mother comes up from behind him, startling him slightly. She responds to his reaction with a hearty chuckle as she worms her way through the corridor, Draco following closely behind her. They sit across from each other, and the boy watches her as she sets a cup before him. She takes the tea pot and pours the liquid carefully.

“How do you like your tea, dear?” She asks.

“Slight cream, no sugar, Mrs. Y/L/N” Your mother looks at the boy. His shoulders are stiff and he’s tense all over. His hands look clammy. Basically, Draco looks nervous.

“I don’t bite. Don’t worry, love. Relax.” She gives the boy’s hand a reassuring squeeze. It was much similar to the feel of yours. He relaxes a little bit, adding cream to his drink.

“Y/N speaks very highly of you.” He states a matter-of-factly.

“Is that so?” A smile appears, “How’s my daughter at school?”

“She’s a really hard worker. Everyone knows her for her intelligence, but she is rather quiet. Much different than the way she acts here. She is so vibrant.”

Draco takes notice of the surprised look in your mother’s eyes, “Oh my dear, if I’m being truthful to you, it’s been so long since I’ve last seen her vibrant side shine through. She’s more demure in character. It’s not common for her to act that way.” Draco didn’t completely understand why, but hearing those words made his heart skip beats. He didn’t respond for a bit, allowing her words to sink in. Out of nowhere, Y/N calls out to her mother signalling the completion of her task. Her head pops from the door frame, and she glances at the tea briefly before shifting her view to the boy.

“Y/N! Why don’t you give Draco some company and have some tea? You can go to your room after!” You cough, but merely nodded in response. You seat yourself in the chair that was once occupied.

“How’s work?” Draco asks. He takes the kettle and pours you a cup.

“Busy as always, but it’s a pleasure to be here.” You thank him for the tea and proceed to adding your preferred amounts of cream and sugar.

“You look handsome today, by the way.” You took a sip of your tea so you wouldn't see his reaction. The boy only beamed.

“You look pretty too, if I’m being honest.” You chuckle as you set down your cup.

“You’re telling me that when I’m dressed in a t-shirt and some ragged jeans?” You didn’t really know what kind of answer to expect. For the most part, you felt average in your get up. He, on the other hand, looked like a model.

“Yes I am. You are pretty.” You only smile at your feet and thank him. The boy was charming without the pompous get up. Ever since that Monday morning, you began to develop appreciation for this genuine side that he showed you.

As time passed, your mother closed up the shop. Both you and Draco offered to help her, but she denied almost immediately. Instead, she insisted that you take the boy up, causing you to palm your face in embarrassment. However, you eventually agree and lead the way. Within the corridor were stairs that led to a second level. You and Draco climb them and turn to the first door on your right. Your room was slightly bigger than the one at school. It was furnished in a fashion that was similar to your dorm, but there were a lot more books--this time stacks of them could be seen littering the floor.

“Did you bring your book?” He nodded and fished it out from his back pocket.

He briefly scans the room, “Did you read all of these?” You nod with an embarrassed smile.

“I bet you’d love the library in the manor.” Your eyes widened at the sound of it. A tinge of excitement sprouted from your gut as you begin to imagine its vastness.

“I don’t think you’re wrong. I bet it’s quite the sight!” Delight could be heard from your voice. Draco only tries to suppress a smile.

“Maybe one day.” He mutters to himself, hoping that you didn’t hear. However, when he looks up, he’s met with your wide smile. He blushes immediately and curses under his breath.

“You weren’t supposed to hear that.”

“Don’t worry. I’ll pretend I didn’t.” You wink at him, and pull out your book. You flopped on your bed, patting the space next to you. When he situates himself by your side, you begin to pick up where you left off, already pushing the outside world aside. Draco sits with his legs crossed, and copies your actions. Silence fills the both of you as an hour passes. However, he’d take opportunities to sneak small glances at you once in a while. Your focus on the pages never shifted. If anything, the furrowing of your brows deepen as you turn with every page. With his curiosity getting the best of him, he leans closer to you to see what was so interesting. His actions don’t go by unnoticed, though. As soon as you felt his knee come into contact with yours, you realize how close he has gotten since you started reading.

“May I help you, Malfoy?” You ask, slightly amused.

“What’s your book about?” He asks. You tense your brows as you come up with an answer, not wanting to spoil anything.

“It’s about the friendship between a statue of a very selfless prince and a swallow. What about yours?”

“I’d never thought I would like fiction, but I do like this one. It’s about a girl who protects a person who can remember.”

“Remembers?”You ask with genuine curiosity. Draco nods, his eyes expressing the interest he has for the novel.

“Things on the island vanish, and the majority of the people have no recollection of it after it disappears. The people who show any signs of remembering get taken away.” Your interest for the plot increases

“That sounds very interesting. Do you think we can trade when we finish?”

“I think it sounds like a plan.” You stare into each other’s eyes for a moment before a snapping noise is heard. Suddenly your hair loosens, and you realize that the rubber band holding your hair together gave out. Draco looked at you with an eyebrow raised. As you reach to pull the remnants of the tie away, your hair frees itself. Some strands framed your face, while the rest flowed over your shoulders and covered the expanse of your back. You run your fingers through the front and they fall into curtain-like waves. Draco on the other hand is taken aback at your sudden change of appearance. Prior to getting to know who you were, nothing much was thought of you with the exception of your brains. Besides that, you were rather plain looking, always having your hair up in a braid or a ponytail.

It was a seemingly natural reaction to let your hair simply flow. You really didn’t think much of it. But, when you met Draco’s surprised look, it was your turn to raise a brow at him. He really didn’t know what overtook him, or why these particular words fell out without thinking, but both hearts were racing and ears turned warm after he spoke out.

“Merlin, Y/N. You’re bloody gorgeous.” It caught him off guard. Your expression was the only thing that made him come to terms with the reality of it.

“I- You- You weren’t supposed to-”

“Thank you.” Draco’s jitters stopped in an instant when he saw the way you smiled up at him. Noticing the silence that settles in, you quickly think of something to break it.

“Should I wear it down at school? I’ve been thinking about it. It’s time for a ch-” You were startled by how quick his response was.

“No! Absolutely not!” He speaks frantically.

“-ange. Okay, then. Sheesh.” You both just laugh at his sudden outburst. Draco’s, however, was a nervous one.

After a couple more minutes of reading, a savory aroma fills your senses, and your mother calls out to you both for dinner. The food was pleasant, but it was the actual state of togetherness that lit Draco’s heart. Although the warm feeling of you and your mother’s company was foreign to him, he was glad to have been able to experience it. The entirety of his stay lifts a huge weight off of his shoulders. Moreover, he begins to acknowledge the budding emotions that he feels for you. He felt each beat of his heart more profoundly within the small moments that you shared, with every glance that he took, and with every laugh that spilled from your lips.

You stare up at the clock, taking note of the time. It was already 7:30 PM. Curfew was at 9:00 for fifth years.

“Mother, I think it’s time that we get going. I’ll see you next week.” You notify her of your departure as you help clear out the table.

“Oh, it’s that time of the day already? Very well then. I’m so glad you stopped by today, Draco. You’re welcome here anytime. Let me see the both of you out.” After you give her a hug, you make your way to the main room of the store. Draco thought you were going to exit, and was brought to confusion when you suddenly stopped in your tracks.

Draco clears his throat, “So, do you know how exactly we’ll get back?” It was already late and the boats that transported students to and from Hogsmeade were closed for the day.

“Are you a fan of portkeys?” You ask. Draco’s eyes widened.

“Have you created an illegal one?” When you don't answer, he just laughs. You rummage through your bag, picking out a random book. When you open it, there’s a postcard with a picture of Hogsmeade on the front.

“It’s a touch-activated one. It goes straight into my dorm.” You look up at him to see a devious-looking smirk plastered on his lips.

“You really are something else.” He whispers. You roll your eyes and shake your head.

“Let’s touch it on the count of three, okay? 1...2...3.” At the touch of the object, Draco felt his body get sucked into a bind, lights flashing, and your surroundings blacking out until it wasn’t. He kept his eyes shut the whole time. The entire instance occurred for a second. When you arrived at your destination, you felt fine, having gotten used to the uncomfortable sensation resulting from the mode of transportation. The boy who isn’t as experienced, however, didn’t find himself so lucky, and opted to lay down on your bed for a moment, closing his eyes to regain his strength. As you gave him time to rest, you took the opportunity to change into something more comfortable, taking advantage of the fact that he wouldn’t be aware of you doing so.

When he opened his eyes, he was surrounded by the familiar confines of your dorm. They roamed around until stopping at your changing figure. You had slipped on a jumper, which was paired with loose fitting sweats, the waistband wrapping securely on your hips. The only source of light was that of the moon as it radiated through your window and onto your bedroom floor. It casted a surreal glow upon your features, and Draco couldn’t help but stare.

“Would you like some water? I know the experience could be unpleasant.” Your voice was soft and was followed by the sound of your melodic giggle.

“Y/N, you’re mental if you tell me you do that every week.” He says astoundedly. You nod with a grin and shrug your shoulders as you passed him a cup of water. He takes it gratefully and gulps it down as you sit on the edge of your bed.

“You should probably get back to your dorm soon and take some rest. Do you need any help?” He shakes his head, but is betrayed by his body as he stumbles out of your bed. With quick reflexes, you hold him steady, allowing him to regain his balance quickly.

“Are you sure?” You ask doubtedly. He reassures you by straightening his posture and flashing a smile. You return it as you walk him to the door. He stands in the hallway, facing you as you lean against your door frame. You rushedly look left and right to ensure no one was looking before shifting your attention back to him.

“It was nice having you today. Mother was really happy you came by.”

“How about you?” The boy catches your gaze once more. You only looked at him with a raised brow, queuing the need for clarification.

“How do you feel about my company?” What he asked caught you off guard, but you couldn’t deny the joy that you felt being around him. The comfort you felt from reading alone didn’t compare to the calm silence that situated you both when you did it together. It was the simple yet overwhelming feeling of contentment--the feeling of someone entering your heart silently, gently, and with a rush all at the same time. Pure bliss was what it was, but you couldn’t formulate the words when he asked you. The boy smirked at your lack of response. Instead, he bent over to meet your eye level and leaned in. You held your breath within your throat as he drew closer, ultimately shutting your eyes in anticipation for who knows what. Draco noticed the slight change in your body language and softened the look in his eyes. His orbs, which were once filled with amusement, were now filled with adoration. He looked at your expression, before reaching out to tuck a strand of hair behind your ear. You opened your eyes, meeting his gentle gaze. Shocked, Draco backed away, shoving his hands into his pockets.

He stammered, “Y-You had something on your ear.” A flush had spread over his cheeks.

“Oh, is that so? Were you able to remove it?” You ran your fingers through your hair, oblivious of his frantic behavior. In your mind, you only wish it could’ve been more.

“Y-yea!” A nervous laugh leaves his lips. After he recollects himself for a few more seconds he says, “We should do this again sometime.” To which you happily agree.

You both bid each other ‘goodnight’. As you close the door, you lean your back against the wall, and slide down to the floor. You took note of the way your heart began to race when you recalled the events of today. The sound of his laughs, his subtle attempts to get close to you, his expression of interest towards the things that you treasured. Your image of Draco had begun to transform right under your nose.

Little did you know that as the boy walked back to his dorm room that night, the same thoughts ran through his mind. Although he was tired, he would constantly think about the way you looked when you were working, or when you were reading, or how your hair came undone. Moreover, he felt safe within your hospitality--it wasn’t forceful or intrusive, it just flowed naturally. This small escape made a huge improvement from the broken state you found him in that Monday prior. That night, as he laid in bed, he read his book peacefully until sleep took over his consciousness, filling his rest with dreams of reading with you by his side.

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It was a brisk Sunday morning when you found yourself at the Great Hall for breakfast. You were always one of the earlier students who came right when the doors opened. By the time you got yourself situated, only a few students trickled their way into the massive room.

Your hand took hold of your book as the other filled your mouth with food. Your concentration blazed as you immersed yourself into the world of the Oscar Wilde that you didn’t realize how filled the hall became once you put your book down. The reason for you doing so stemmed from the sound of a presence that sat before you. You never had company when you ate, so when you looked up you were surprised to see Draco settling in the seat in front of you. Murmurs from other students could be heard at the peculiar sight.

“This seat isn’t taken I presume?” He asks. The typical Malfoy smirk graces his lips as he lowers himself down.

“Not at all.” You respond simply. You look around with a weirded expression. People had their eyes on the two of you. One in particular caught your attention. It was Astoria Greengrass, also dubbed as the Slytherin princess. She had an annoyed look on her face, but you brushed it off, turning back to the boy in front of you.

“Aren’t your friends waiting for you?” You nodded towards the familiar group of people.

“I can’t read around them. They’re too loud.” Once the statement leaves his lips, he pulls out The Memory Police and finds himself in the same stature you were in previously. You smile inwardly before taking a few bites of your food. It’s silent and you can still feel the lingering stares around you. They begin to get annoying after a while.

“Leave them be. They can stare all they want, but I’m not moving anywhere.” He says as though he read your mind. He glances at you from the top of his book, but his tone remains unfazed.

“How’d you know?” You inquire.

“You have ‘uncomfy’ written all over your face, Y/N.” He keeps his gaze stuck to his book while stuffing a piece of scrambled egg into his mouth. You narrow your eyes at him before slowly opening your own again.

“What are you planning to do today?” He asks suddenly. You look up to see that his eyes never left the page. Your look at your own, except you’re not reading this time.

“Probably read at the lake, go to my dorm and read some more.”

“Do you do anything else besides read?”

“I study.” You could feel his eyes roll.

“Besides that.” You lower your hands seeing that you aren’t getting anywhere with the plot.

“What else is there to do on Sundays?” You laugh, “Well what do you plan on doing today?”

Your conversation gets interrupted by the sound of someone clearing their throat. There stands Astoria Greengrass, arms crossed with an envious expression on her face. She looks at you then to Draco.

“Hey Dray. I just wanted to know if you wanted to hang out with me at Hogsmeade today?” She asks with a sickly flirtatious tone. She squeezes his shoulder while you just roll your eyes and look away to mentally gag.

“You must be blind to notice. I’m preoccupied if you can’t tell.” The sound of his tone is cold, much akin to the one he uses when he’s bullying someone. However, a smirk sneaks up to your lips as you keep your gaze lowered. The girl only scoffs before turning to you.

“Cute little book you got there Y/L/N. You always have your nose buried in one, don’t you? What’s that one about this time?” You take note of her condescending voice, which slightly pulls on your nerves.

“Wouldn’t you like to know, Greengrass? Sorry love, I’m too preoccupied to explain.” You wiggle your book at her before getting up. You throw the boy your version of his eyebrow raise before turning to leave.

“I’ll see you around ‘Dray’.” You say, imitating Astoria’s tone. You looked at her from head to toe and scoffed as you walked out of the hall. You couldn’t be bothered to deal with the likes of her. For the most part, giving her any piece of your energy was not worth it. You find yourself walking down the corridor before hearing the sound of someone running to you. You stop in your tracks and turn around to see the familiar platinum-haired boy.

“You need some company at the lake?” He asks. Your face, which was once filled with annoyance, releases its tension, and transforms into a gentle smile.

“I don’t need it, but you’re free to come along if you’d like to.” You turn your back quickly before getting a response out of him. He follows you.

Throughout the walk, Draco notices that your hair is up in a braid again, smiling as he reminisces the sequence of events that occurred the night prior. Could you have kept it up because he said so? Such thoughts filled his mind with interest. The events that happened in the hall also made him wonder. He had never seen you agitated before.

“I never thought you’d respond like that.” He says to start up conversation.

“To Astoria?” He nods.

“Not worth my time or energy. I may be quiet, but I’m not a pushover...Dray.” You tease him with the nickname, although he doesn’t mind it when it comes from you.

“It sounds better when you say it.” He says, making you shake your head in response.

“I was about to choke myself. Merlin, did you hear the way she said it? It’s enough to make your ears bleed. Bloody hell.” The way you release your frustration gives the both of you something to laugh about. That familiar feeling of comfort overcoming you both once again.

“Do you think she’s going to approach me again?” You ask.

“Knowing her, she might.”

“Merlin, avada me now.” Draco only laughs louder at the sound of your displeasure. By the time you reach the lake, the sun is seen casting its rays upon the water. Clouds are still in the sky, but the overall scene is bright and beautiful, assuring that it was going to be a good day.

You sit on a patch of grass that meets the sand, while Draco assumes the seat beside you. Before you could even begin to read, the boy takes the opportunity to ask you another question.

“How far are you from finishing your book?”

“I’m almost done. Give me a few minutes and I should be finished.” His eyes widened slightly

“Fast reader aren’t you?”

“No, well, maybe. There are more stories in this book. The Happy Prince so happens to be one of them.” He nods, allowing that particular conversation to end. He lays down on the grass, ready to read in the process, but is caught staring at the expanse of your neck. Your braid reaches the middle of your back, swaying in the wind. When he takes sight of the band that holds it together, he reaches out, hoping that you won’t notice, and pulls it off. He swiftly drops it to make it seem like he hasn’t done anything, so by the time you turn around to identify the cause of the loosened sensation, he already has the book propped on top of his legs, gazing at the lines with much concentration.

“Did you see anything?” You ask with a raised brow. He simply nods, trying to hide the smirk on his face. It doesn’t go unnoticed by you though.

“Draco. Was it you?” When he doesn’t respond, you laugh.

“You’re such a git.” Your fingertips trace the sand to locate the rubber band, but the boy stops you before going any further. He wraps his hand around your wrist, while catching your gaze.

“It looks better down.” He says firmly.

“But you said-”

“I don’t want you letting it loose for others to see. In front of me is fine.” He holds your gaze for what seemed to eternity before slowly loosening his grip on your hand.

He then proceeds to ask, “Can I touch it? Your hair?” You smile and nod at him. He takes the opportunity to scoot closer behind you. After he situates himself at a comfortable distance, he reaches out to your loosened braid, and gently runs his fingers through it, breaking it up entirely. Your strands are soft in his touch, and the light from the sun only emphasizes how shiny it is. You pay no mind to the boy’s doing. Instead, you continue reading while he plays with your hair.

After 15, perhaps 20 minutes of reading, you finally finish your book. It is then that you notice that he’s still stroking your locks. Slightly amused, you look up from your book and decide to tease him for a bit.

“Are you having fun back there?” Your question is accompanied with a giggle.

“Most fun I’ve had in years.” Sarcasm laced through his voice. “Can you teach me how to braid?” Your head turns back, but you’re only faced with a serious expression.

“What’s the sudden interest?” As you ask your question, the breeze picks up, eliciting a shiver out of you. It takes a second for Draco to notice how thin your clothes were.

“Why don’t we go inside? It’s warmer and you can teach me how to braid your hair.”

“You’re so insistent, aren’t you?”

“Not insistent, just ambitious.” You rolled your eyes as he lifted you from the ground.

You both make your way to the dungeons, taking the familiar route that leads to his room. You don’t protest the destination as much, only being grateful that it was warmer than the harsh change in climate outside of these walls. You can’t help but recall how much has drastically changed since the week prior, but it warmed your heart knowing that there was more to Draco than what meets the eye.

As you enter the dorm, you take notice of all the luxurious details that embellish everything from his furniture to the style of his clothes. It was much more put together since the last time you found yourself there. The crisp scent of apples filled your nose, allowing yourself to ooze into the comfort of the environment. You show no hesitance to flop on his bed, seeing as he has done so to yours a number of times already. While doing so, he discards his robes and hangs it over a coat rack. The sight of you brings out a small smile from him as he claims the seat next to you.

“Now, where were we?” He asks. You proceed to sectioning your hair into two parts. You hand him one, which he takes gently all while focusing his concentration on the demonstration you show.

“Okay, so we start off with three sections…” He does as you say.

“Now I take this, and flip it over this section.” He repeats. Only the sounds of his breaths can be heard.

“Now you do it to the other side, and repeat the pattern.” As you demonstrate with your strands, a shocked expression fills his face as he tries to repeat your actions. He gets it eventually, although his braid is much messier and unkept in comparison to yours, which is tight and neat. A familiar scowl appears on his face, but you try to keep your laughter in. In all fairness, he really was trying.

“Here. Take all of it. Try braiding my hair.” You run your fingers, deleting both your work and his, and turn so that your back is facing him. You keep your sights set towards the window, as he begins to work his way through your hair. He starts off by combing his fingers through your locks, which felt annoyingly good. He then proceeds to repeat everything that he has learned within the last five minutes. Him doing so only proved how quick of a learner he was. Silence filled you both, and as time drifted on, you ended up dozing off into sleep. It is only when Draco finishes that he notices you. He tugs at his final product slightly to see the expression on your face, but in doing so, you fall onto his chest as soft snores find their way out of your lips.

“And she calls me a git. Look at her sleeping while I handle her hair.” His eyes soften at the gentleness of your own expression before he scans the way your arms have wrapped themselves across your waist. Ensuring that you were sound asleep, he carefully reaches for your hand, forcing it to open as he slightly interlaces his fingers with yours. He takes a moment to comprehend the situation, his face warming up when he realizes that your back is slouched against his chest, your head resting on his shoulder, and one of his hands clasped delicately into yours.

It’s when his eyes land on your resting face once more that he recalls all that you are, all that you have shown him. He then envisions the long-term, imagining all he has yet to discover about you. The care that you’ve shown him by far is more than what anyone has done throughout his life. He revisits the week before when you mentioned reading as a way to escape. Now that as he has you lying against him, he thinks of the possibility that his real escape is actually you. His mind finds pleasure in that thought, and it only makes his heart race when he thinks about what could possibly happen between you two tomorrow, or the day after that, a week, month, year. What answer would he receive by then? He isn’t even sure if you’d say ‘yes’ to an offer in a relationship, especially knowing how focused you are with your school work. Ridding the thoughts for another time, Draco slowly lays his back down against the mattress, bringing you carefully along with him. Your legs become entangled with his. His hand never leaves yours.

Ensuring that you were certainly asleep, he whispers softly to the air, “I think I like you, Y/N.” He wraps his other arm around you before falling into a peaceful slumber.

A/N: I don’t think this is the end, but that’s not the point! I hope you enjoyed it :) Any feedback is very much appreciated hehe.

#Draco Malfoy #draco malfoy fanfiction #draco lucius malfoy #draco malfoy imagines #draco x reader #draco x you #draco x y/n #draco malfoy x reader #draco malfoy x y/n #draco malfoy x you #slytherin imagines

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drawlfoy · 4 years

Text

Wonders of Ohio P.9

masterlist

requests are closed, but please read this first :)

if you want to be tagged, send an ask or message me!

pairing: draco x reader

request: nope, my original shameless self insert idea lmao

summary: american high school senior y/n y/l/n is in for the ride of her life when their exchange student is...a bit strange (but very hot). NOT a nonmagic AU, though you already knew that if you’ve read part 8 ;)

warnings: swearing, mentions of a break in, concerns about a home intruder, objectively the most fluffy scene we’ve gotten so far in this series (hehe), draco being fucking obnoxious and moody (did i mention swearing?)

a/n: ayoooooo so here’s part 9, as promised. i’ve started getting back into the hp universe more and more, so i should probably be picking up my writing soon. i’ve been feeling more myself again!! which is super awesome. i don’t think many people read this series anymore (or my author notes in general but i don’t blame yall) but i’m having a lot of fun writing it, so i’m going to keep going :)

music recs:

puppy princess -- hot freaks

loverboy -- A-wall

linger -- the cranberries

tags tags tags: @gruffle1 @missmulti @cleopatera @hahaboop @accio-rogers @geeksareunique @eltanin-malfoy @war-sword @cams-lynn @itsivyberry @ayo-cowbelly @nerd-domland @yesnerdsblog @shizarianathania @evanstanfanatic @strawberriesonsummer @hariosborn @night-ving @straightzoinked @imintoodeeptostop @naiomimoonshard @jejegu @ophelia-enthusiast @alwaysbeanunknownfan @nearly-memories @litty-dumb @callieclearwater @malfoy-wife15 @charlenasaxen @belladaises @fiantomartell @writeandtranslate @erisdogwood @loveissupernatural @sycathorn-slush @big-galaxy-chaos

word count: 3.8k :)

Y/N couldn’t help but wonder if Draco deliberately waited until the last minute to tell her family that he was leaving so he could evade her questioning. She tried to talk to him later that evening by knocking on his door, but she was met with complete silence.

Draco was ignoring her, and she didn’t get why. She’d promised to not tell anyone--even begged for him to trust her and essentially swore on her life--but he still wasn’t acting normal. Perhaps he didn’t want her to badger him with questions about the magical world.

Or maybe this was an excuse to get away from her.

Y/N swallowed the second possibility and locked it away somewhere out of sight. He’d left without a single word more to her (not even a congratulations for getting into a top 20 school, that loser) and never even bothered telling her when he’d return. And maybe that was the nicest part of it--she could pretend like he was never coming back.

As attractive as that option was, she had to admit that there was a Draco-shaped hole in her passenger car seat every time she drove to school. And in the kitchen when she was studying. And everywhere else he’d once touched.

“Why do you think he went back?”

Y/N took a break from reviewing her Art History final exam notes to look up at Lizzy. “Maybe something happened with his dad or he wanted to spend his holidays with his family? It’s probably not that serious.”

“Speaking of his dad, I tried to look up his name and see if anything came up,” Lizzy began. Y/N felt her heart jump into her throat. “Don’t you think it’s kinda sus? I haven’t found anything for him. It’s like he’s been completely wiped off the face of the earth. Do you know anything about it?”

“Honestly, I don’t think it’s any of my business.” Draco’s franticness when she found out lingered in the back of her mind as she chose her words carefully. “I’m sure if he’s a genuine political target, they’ve just scrubbed the web clean of him, being a minor and all.”

“But don’t you think it’s funny that he’s apparently so important but there’s no evidence of him or his father ever existing?”

“Lizzy.” Her voice was firm. “It’s entirely possible that his real name is different. And either way, it’s not our story to uncover. He’s entitled to his own privacy, and if he doesn’t reveal his true identity then we need to respect that.”

“Oooookaaayyyyy, Mother,” said Lizzy. “You’re so fun. You know that, right?”

“It’s my job.”

After the close brush with Lizzy, Y/N avoided the topic of Draco with her friends like wildfire. At the back of her mind, she registered that that was probably more suspicious, but when Sylvia asked her about him during lunch, she finally spun up a story.

“I told him I liked him,” she told everyone, the words stinging her throat. “He doesn’t feel the same way. I just would feel better if we dropped it.”

Her friends reacted immediately with sympathy, telling her that it wasn’t her fault that he couldn’t see her for what she was worth. Somehow, this made her feel worse. She didn’t even need to tell him her feelings to know his thoughts--he didn’t see her as anything but a “muggle”, or whatever he called them. She never stood a chance.

Y/N spent an embarrassing amount of time wondering how things would’ve been different if she was a witch. She didn’t know anything about his world (apart from the fact that they really had a stick up their asses about people knowing of them) but she somehow craved a place in it. Would Draco feel differently towards her if she was magic?

It was probably better if she didn’t pay too much mind to it, but she couldn’t let the thought go. Every time she shut her eyes at night, the memory of waking up next to Draco replayed in her head, over and over. She would’ve sold her soul to have gone back to that. Would things have been different if she had just...not found the letters? She was driving herself crazy digging through all her interactions with him. There’s no way she was imagining things, and judging by the surprised reactions of her friends when she told them he didn’t reciprocate feelings, she wasn’t the only one who thought something was there. If he was really so disgusted by her and her people, he wouldn’t have let her sleep in his room, in his bed no less.

As December wore on, her mind began to be occupied by another feverish stream of thoughts. If she didn’t already feel like she was going crazy over the Draco problem, she was going completely insane over the fact that she was misplacing things like crazy and forgetting the most basic of things. It seemed like it was almost every day that she was forgetting where she put her keys (even though she could’ve sworn she’d hung them up by the door) or getting home to find the door already unlocked even though she was sure that she’d locked it behind her. It would’ve creeped her out, but she was really off kilter. It just wasn’t right having Draco away, and the sense of dread she got every time she went by her room just threw her off balance. What if she still had lingering sickness from whatever magical infliction she suffered?

He really should’ve stuck around to watch after me. Just in case.

Another thing was bothering her--a name she saw pop up in the pouch from when she went through his letters. It was a small portion of his collection, and she didn’t even think to examine it until after he took them back from her, but she noticed that the name “Pansy Parkinson” came up more than once as a return address.

Her mind immediately jumped to the worst--Draco was madly in love with another girl, a magical girl, and traveled back home with the express purpose of declaring his neverending devotion for her and complaining about that rat Ohioan muggle that he had to spend his days with.

Y/N knew it wasn’t healthy, but no matter what she did, she couldn’t quite shake it. The fact that he’d no doubt grown up around girls that would be suitable for him to date was making her physically ill with jealousy, which was probably the most embarrassing part of her feelings for him. Nevermind how much time she spent fantasizing about how soft his hair felt or how his stupidly pretty fingers would feel grazing her skin--she couldn’t even cope with the idea of him existing with other women that were honestly a better choice to him.

That Christmas was surprisingly bleak. Being an only child always made for a quiet house during the holidays, but the expectation she held of having Draco there set her up for disappointment. Her house felt empty.

“Do you think he’s coming back?” Y/N asked her mother as they did the morning dishes together.

“Well, I assume so. Why wouldn’t he? He was scheduled to spend the entire year with us. I think that if he’s changed his mind we would at least know by now.”

“What if he’s still deciding?”

“Why, miss him already?” Mrs. Y/L/N’s tone was teasing, but she felt her cheeks grow hot.

“Quite the contrary. I’m just wondering if I’m about to become the pampered only child again or if I’m going to need to go back into the unglamorous life of sharing the spotlight.”

“Y/N,” her mother tutted. She’d stopped doing the dishes.

Y/N made a point to evade her knowing look. “Mom.”

Her mother took a breath before answering. “Nothing. As a matter of fact, I did get a letter from him a few days ago. He’s scheduled to return the second week of January, right before school goes back.”

“Oh,” said Y/N. No matter how hard she tried, there’s no way her relief wasn’t visible.

“How’s that for your Christmas gift, hm?”

“Mom!”

“Hey! Hey, it was a joke,” Mrs. Y/L/N said, throwing her hands up in a “no can do” sort of gesture. “I know that you’re good friends with him is all. Unless…”

“Mom!” Her cheeks were all shades of red.

“All I’m saying is that he seems to enjoy your company.”

“Stockholm syndrome, I’m telling you.” Her explanation of what that meant was on the tip of her tongue before she stopped herself. There was no reason to--the only person who would need that explained to them was no longer on the same continent as her.

“Whatever you’d like to think.”

The snowstorm hit them without warning, two days after Christmas. Her parents had left for the night to attend a charity auction, but unfortunately for Y/N, by the time that they realized that their daughter would be snowed in, the roads were too dangerous to drive on. Y/N begrudgingly agreed to do all of the things they told her to--get the generator ready, make sure the fireplace was prepared, and locate all the candles in the house.

On any normal day, she wouldn’t have been concerned in the slightest, but she’d felt uneasy in her house ever since the night of the break-in, and now that this was the first night she’d have to spend alone, her heart was pounding at the thought of having to sleep in an empty house. Especially if the power was out. Especially when whoever broke in was still on the loose.

She locked up at dusk, making sure that every entry to her home was completely sealed shut. The generator was in the basement, all set up in the case that the lights went out. She’d located all the bottled water in her house in case the pipes froze, and she finally retired to her room to relax.

The sense of dread that hovered around Draco’s room was gone, thankfully. The overall feeling of creepiness was just beginning to lose its jarring sting, but she’d never quite been able to shake how many things she misplaced in the beginning of the month.

She busied herself with mundane activities--she cleaned out her closet, organized her drawers, read, changed her sheets, and finished the last of her homework--but nothing could distract her from the gnawing inside of her. The hairs on the back of her neck constantly stood up, even when she was tucked away in the corner of her room, nestled into her blankets. The tingling was akin to what she felt when she walked into that antique shop on homecoming night--the same night when Draco helped her off her feet and narrowly kept her from throwing up all over Heather.

Looking back on it, she realized that when he grabbed her wrist, he must’ve done something to quell her nausea, something magical. There was no way her carsickness could’ve been able to disappear so quickly.

Her soliloquy was interrupted by what sounded like footsteps outside. Before she could assess the situation and decide what she was going to do, a boom sounded off in the distance and she was all of a sudden bathed in darkness.

Y/N froze.

Someone was most definitely outside her house, but thankfully she’d locked all the doors. And, thankfully, the boom told her that her fuse box hadn’t been messed with. A tree had probably just fallen on a transformer.

But those small comforts still didn’t change the fact that she was no longer alone--and not only that, but no longer alone without power.

Her thoughts were interrupted once again by banging on her front door. Y/N jumped, just barely managing to clap her hand over her mouth to muffle her shriek. She’d seen enough horror movies to know that alerting someone that you were home wasn’t the smartest move. She’d have to be strategic.

Heart pounding out of her chest, she crept out of her room and down the stairs. The power outage was quite lucky, she realized, as whoever was outside couldn’t see in. The moon only cast a slight light as it reflected off of the snow, so she was going to be able to see the person outside before they would see her.

She squinted from her perch by the base of the staircase. She could make out a silhouette, a tall and lanky one. The weak moonlight reflected off a very light head of hair, and Y/N was struck with a feeling of familiarity.

No way...

Y/N stood frozen for a few seconds as she heard the person knock on the door again. A muffled version of a familiar British voice said, “Is anyone there?”

Throwing all caution to the wind and praying to any higher power that was listening to her that her suspicion was correct, she pushed down on the doorknob and swung it open.

Her heart stopped.

“Draco? What are you--”

Before she could get another word out of her mouth, she was pulled into the tightest (and snowiest) hug of her life. One of his arms wrapped solidly around her waist, the other reaching further up to her shoulders to hold her closer. He was tall enough in comparison that he could rest his chin on the top of her head while she cautiously clasped her hands around him, breathing in the same soft pine scent that she knew so well.

When he finally let go of her, she noticed that his face was decidedly less pale than what it had been when she first opened the door. At a loss for words, Y/N just made her way behind him and shut the door to keep the storm from blowing any more snowflakes in. She noted that Draco was shaking.

“You’re okay,” he said, his voice low and quiet.

She grinned. “Yeah. Believe it or not, I’m not that scared of the dark.”

He didn’t look nearly as amused, wringing his hands out in front of him instead of meeting her eyes.

“You’re going to freeze to death if you’re gonna just stand there in soaking clothes,” she chided. “And what are you doing back half a month early? I know you must’ve missed me, but I didn’t expect you to miss me THAT much.”

He rolled his eyes, bringing Y/N the comfort that the sarcastic asshole was still in there. “We need to talk.”

“No, what you need to do is get changed into dry clothes,” she said. “Not sure if you’ve noticed, but until we get our generator working, there’s no heat...and I’m not sure if the Ministry is going to like it if I let you die on my watch.”

Even though he didn’t normally laugh at her jokes, he seemed especially solemn when she said this. It became very clear to her then that he regretted his brief display of affection.

“What are you doing, just standing here? Shoo! I don’t want to see you dripping snow all over the rug.” She waved him off until he made his way up the stairs, still eerily silent.

Once she was sure he was actually getting dressed, she made her way to the kitchen where she started heating up the water. She’d never been more thankful for the fact that they had a gas stove instead of an electric one.

The tea was almost finished brewing by the time that Draco was back downstairs, perched awkwardly on the couch. She’d never seen his sweater before--it was in a rich forest green with a silver crest of a snake.

“Are you going to tell me whatever is going on? I’ve never seen you like this before,” asked Y/N as she handed him the mug that she knew to be his favorite.

He took a sip and waited a bit before responding. “I found out some things while I was away.”

“Is that it? Must’ve been something pretty interesting for you to come in here and act like I’m your long lost love or whatever.” She took careful note of how his cheeks were especially pink, but it must’ve been because of the cold.

“I shouldn’t tell you everything, but I think you should probably know the gist of things,” he began. “First of all, I figured out why I couldn’t use the Obliviation cube on you. Also, you have to consent to an Unbreakable Vow.”

“A...what? Care to elaborate? Like, at least a little? Why didn’t it work on me?”

He sighed, a sharp breath of air that left his lungs in a huff. “Because you stumbled upon a very important box that can bestow the gift of magic onto anyone. And since you did something in your dream to try and open it, it permanently took root in you. I tried to reverse it, but there’s always going to be an imprint of magic on you.”

“Sick. So I’m a witch now? Like you?”

“No.” His tone was sour. “No, you’re not. For that to work, there needs to be a ritual actually completed by someone magical. That’s why you got so sick--because you would’ve needed me to help you through your dream sequence and open up the box. So, now that you’ve essentially pushed yourself into the magical world uninvited, I can’t use anything on you that’s catered towards Muggles.”

“Rats,” said Y/N. “That’s no fun. What about the whole part about my safety? And what’s that vow thing?”

“Apparently someone really, really wants that box,” Draco told her. “It doesn’t just give muggles the gift of magic--it can also give current wizards powers that are otherwise completely unavailable to the rest of the population. In the wrong hands, they could wreak havoc on the world. And I’m almost positive they think you have it.”

“Oh…” Everything started falling into place. “So, the break in? That probably was them right? And, uh, let’s say if you feel like maybe someone has been in your house while you’ve been gone? Like, that’s something I should be worried about, right?”

“Is that happening to you?” His face looked significantly more pale.

Y/N was tempted to tell him no--just to ease his nerves--but something in his look told her that she needed to be truthful. “Um, kind of. You know how I can be forgetful, though. It’s just little things, like sometimes I come home to find that the front door is unlocked when I’m sure I locked it, or I can’t find little things like my car keys and my phone, but it’s all easily explained.”

“I never should’ve left,” he said, tucked his knees up to his chest. “I should’ve known that that was Merlin’s Box.” He swallowed, meeting her eyes with a gaze that looked so forlorn that her heart ached. “I’m so sorry.”

“Hey, hey, all we have to do is tell them I don’t have the box, right? And then they’ll leave me alone.”

“I don’t know,” he admitted. “I assume so, but if they didn’t find the box when they originally ransacked your room and they’re still hanging around, I don’t know what to do. That’s why I can’t obliviate you, the proper way that we use on wizards, because I can’t always be there to save you. Once I’m gone, you’re going to have to manage on your own.”

“Please, Draco,” said Y/N. “People will always talk a big game, but once I pull out my pepper spray it’s over. I can take care of myself! I didn’t need protection while you’re away.”

He smiled then, a small one that seemed more sad than anything. “You sound like me. When I was younger.”

“You probably don’t even know what pepper spray is. What’s that vow thing?”

“You have to promise that you won’t say anything that would reveal what you know about me and my world,” said Draco. “I need to find a wizard to say the incantations, but it shouldn’t be too hard. I ended up telling the Ministry what happened--I’m not going to get sent away as they have a clear record of me at least attempting to wipe your memory and they agree that you need to be able to protect yourself. Unbreakable Vows are just really intense promises. If you break it, you die.”

“Is that your way of saying you don’t really trust my word?”

He rolled his eyes. “It’s required by the Ministry. If you don’t comply, then you’re going to be completely obliviated and then you can have as much fun as you’d like trying to run from whoever that criminal is without even knowing why they’re after you. Oh, and without me.”

“Then why are you even offering the vow? Don’t you want to go home?”

Draco took a long drink from his mug. “I still have a sentence to carry out. If I go back home, I’ll get sent to the same prison that my father is being held at right now.”

“A...sentence?” Y/N stared at him. “I know you mentioned a punishment, but a sentence?”

He remained silent and refused to meet her eyes.

“Draco, what exactly did you have to do?”

“It’s none of your business,” he snapped. The sudden switch of tone made Y/N start, but he was unwavering in his scowl. “I’d prefer to not think about it.”

“But...Draco…” Y/N cast her gaze to the ground so she didn’t have to see the no doubt furious look in his eyes when she continued to push. “How bad? Do you think that maybe whoever is after me might know that I don’t have the box anymore? And that they might be trying to seek revenge against you for whatever it was that you did instead?”

He didn’t respond.

“Think about it. That would explain why I was untouched this whole time that you were away when they were still keeping tabs on me.”

With a pronounced bonk, he set his mug down on the coffee table. “I’m going to bed.”

She managed to get one more look at his face before he spun around to head up the stairs and was shocked to see what was etched into his face--anger, yes, frustration...and also shame. Unmistakable shame.

final a/n: weeoooooooo i’m like 3 minutes early...this is a monumental moment for my blog. let me know what you guys think (if there’s still people sticking with this series fjkds;al). i am going to go back into my hole and work on some math hw (wonders of ohio y/n vibes...i have low key become her trying to roleplay as a stem girl). the plot is going to thicken and hopefully there will be more fluff soon. i honestly didn’t want to add the hug bc i do want this to be slow burn but it has come to my attention that this is now about 30k words long and i haven’t given y’all so much as an inkling that draco has feelings/anything will happen between them so i gotta give you something to hold you over fjdska;

#draco x reader #draco imagine #draco malfoy x reader #draco malfoy imagine #draco x you #draco malfoy x you #draco x oc #draco malfoy x oc #draco malfoy #draco #dracotok #draco x y/n #draco malfoy x y/n

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gwynrielendgame · 3 years

Text

Nyx and Isa part 4

I am feeling very uninspired these days yall. Good news though, I got a job 🥳🥳 woohoo.

"You two can go wander through the gardens now, if you'd like. Violet why don't you go with them? Someone needs to keep them out of trouble."

It was as much a dismissal if Nyx ever heard one. He rolled his eyes, but stood to leave anyways.

"I would actually like to listen in. If I am to be high lady some day, best I hear it all."

Nyx's parents shared a look. Whatever they wanted to discuss with Tamlin and the rest of the family was not information they wanted his daughter to know. Must be something about her.

"Very well. Nyx could you check on your sister, Velaris? I haven't heard from her all week."

Nyx was annoyed that he was being dismissed once again to check on his oldest sister, of all people, even though Isa was allowed to stay. She was much less trustworthy than him. He turned to leave with his younger sister in tow, but a snicker from Isa made him send a quick glare in her direction.

"Yes, run along now. Like the good little prince you are."

The sarcasm might as well have bit his skin. The entire room stopped their small talk to re-assess the situation before them. The last anyone had heard, Nyx and Isa had resolved any conflict from the recent fight they had. Although neither of them had spoken since Isa had revealed what she gave to protect Nyx.

"Stop this, Isa. Petty arguments do not become you."

"Oh look at prince Nyx. Once again taking the moral high ground. Shocker considering who your parents are."

"Did we...miss something?" Lucien interjected, clearly to lighten the mood which had zero effect on the arguing pair. They continued their banter as if Lucien never even spoke.

"You want to talk to me about my parents? What about yours? Your father abused my mother, only to impregnate, who I can only assume by your own standards, is a vile, evil witch."

She sucked in a harsh breathe. She told that to him in confidence and now he was throwing it back in her face. His anger fueled harder than his guilt. Nyx had walked back to the table at this point where he stood, glaring at his friend.

"Once again you stand on some moral high ground. The world is not black and white, Nyx. Your mother would like to convince you otherwise though, no? Must be her savior complex."

Her accent was much heavier with how vehemently she was talking. Feyre decided it was best to intervene.

"Okay, why don't you two separate and cool off. Obviously, emotions are running high."

Once again, the pair ignored anyone else speaking to them.

"Whatever helps you sleep at night, Isa. I am not the one that sold off my unborn first child, so of course, you do not have many moral qualms." Nyx threw back at her. She rolled her nose up in disgust.

"Would you have rather I let you die?"

"I am glad I am not dead, but what you were willing to give up for me is not something I would be willing to do for you." He crossed his arms. She scoffed.

"Maybe you should have mentioned that before you had sex with me!" She threw a roll from her plate at him. He let it bounce off his head with a roll of his eyes.

"Oof" Violet muttered while glancing anywhere but at the pair sparring off at the dinner table.

"Do not act as if I tricked you into that! I have been crystal clear about us. I am waiting for my mate, which you are not."

"Nyx," his mother tried to interject once again, but Isa stopped her.

"How do you know that? How do you know I am not your mate? The bond is hard to sense before it has snapped into place." Everyone recognized the desperation in her voice. She was pleading with him to love her in the way that she loved him. Unfortunately, it was also clear to everyone that Nyx was rather indifferent towards Isa as a romantic partner.

"Come on Isa! Be realistic. Our parents did not work out for a reason." He tried to reason. He thought they had just been having a bit of fun. Must have meant much more to Isa than she had been admitting to him.

"Perhaps you do share too much with your mother. Your self-righteousness is certainly straight from her handbook." She lashed out. Nyx recognized her feelings were hurt and that was the reason she was saying the nasty things she was. That did not mean it kept him from getting just as angry.

"Well, I am not the only one who takes after my parents. You are exactly like your father." He spit at her.

Nyx was tired of listening to her discuss his parents in such a way. She wanted to play rough? Well then he would play along.

"What is that meant to mean?"

"You are an entitled bitch who does not seem to understand when someone does not love you back. That's what I mean."

She flinched at his harsh words and he automatically wished he could take them back. She retook her seat, closed her eyes, and took a deep breath. They both remembered what she accidentally admitted to him and the words he had not said back. He was breathing heavy from his own vehement yelling, but now as he looked around, he felt regret. It felt wrong to air out their grievances among family and friends, especially when he threw so much back in her face.

"Yikes..." Violet unhelpfully broke the awkward silence that had engulfed the room. Nyx noticed at the same time as everyone else that the table was shaking. It started to shake so much that he thought an earthquake was hitting Velaris. It was not until Tamlin spoke up that everyone realized who, instead of what, was making the table shake.

"Calm down, Isa."

She took a slow shakey breath. One lone tear fell down her cheek which she roughly wiped away. Nyx wanted to wrap her in a hug and apologize, but he stuck in his spot as her tattoos began to glow. They often glowed when she was using her witch magic, but never like this. This was bright, almost blinding when her normal glow was a light luminance.

"I am trying." She spoke softly. "I just want it to stop." Her hands went to her head and started clawing at her temples.

Nyx was not sure what she wanted to stop, but one glance around the room told him that this meant trouble. He wanted to help his friend, but no one moved a muscle and his father sent him a look that kept Nyx from speaking. Tamlin's reaction was even worse. He looked scared. Whether that was for his own life or because his daughter was in danger, Nyx would never know.

"Isabelle, stop."

"I can't." The word broke off at the end as she finally opened her eyes. They were glistening with tears and her expression would haunt Nyx until his last days. It all seemed to happen in slow motion. Tamlin propelled forward, over the table. He wrapped Violet in an embrace as they fell to the floor.

And then a gust of power broke every piece of glass in the room. Every window, wine glass, and vase shattered. The power from Azriel's siphons reached out at the last minute and protected Nyx and Lucien from the blast of power. Nyx was still thrown into the wall from the sheer force of it. He managed to look over at his parents to see his dad protecting his mom. Tamlin must have known what was going to happen before it did because he reached Violet a second before it happened.

"Knock her out!" Tamlin yelled. "Before her eyes change."

Nyx looked up to see that Isa was still crying, but a swirl of power encircled her. She had sunk to her knees on the floor at this point and she still gripped her head as if it hurt. The power was unlike anything he had ever seen, so he assumed it must be her witch power. He knew he should get up and talk to her, but he did not want to make it worse. He watched as Lucien attempted to physically get to her, but the gust knocked him away. Both his parents tried using their daemati powers. Nyx was afraid of what would happen if that did not work. Tamlin shoved Violet behind a couch before approaching his daughter.

"Isa, you can control it. You have done it before. Focus."

She began shaking her head wildly.

"Get out of my head!" She screeched.

"I can't get in Tamlin. Whatever is happening is too powerful." Nyx wondered who was inside Isa's head if not his parents.

"Use your Night power to knock her out." Tamlin gritted his teeth as he slowly inched his way toward her. It was a physical feat unlike any other because the wind was powerful enough to keep Nyx on the ground.

"I can't. She's disarmed our fae magic."

Nyx tried to conjure his own magic, only to realize his dad was right. He did not think it was possible without the use of faebane. Isa had mentioned being able to temporarily disable fae magic, but she claimed the cost was too high for witches to use it often. He was worried she would end up killing herself before the night was over.

"Isa!" He started. As soon as he spoke, the power surrounding her intensified. "I am sorry. I did not mean it." He took a few tentative steps towards her even after his dad called out a warning. It was difficult due to the wind, but he managed to get close enough that his shouts were heard by her.

"I was lashing out because you hurt my feelings." The power started to ebb as she raised her head from her hands. "You are my friend and I did not mean to hurt you."

She looked at him for a second, her guard dropped, and when she blinked, her eyes opened again, completely black as the finest spun silk in all of the night court.

Fuck is all he could think.

Tamlin used the split second she was distracted by Nyx to make his move. She was in his grasp and being winnowed away before anything else could be said.

"Shit." His mother muttered from her spot on the ground.

"What the hell was that?" Azriel looked to Lucien for answers as he stood from the ground. It appeared everyone had been knocked to the ground from the force of her magic. Lucien wiped away blood from his forehead that kept pouring into his one good eye.

"How many witch, high lord children have you heard of?"

"None." Azriel grimaced. If he had not heard of it before, then it was likely few and far between that held that same heritage.

"Emotion is a highly sought after price by the spirits. Not many witches are willing to trade their emotions for the aid of the spirits. They feed on it which is why the children are so dangerous. They are one tantrum from killing their entire coven. Why do you think their numbers dwindle?"

"She's had how many years to get this under control?" Rhysand quipped back sarcastically only to get a withering look from Lucien.

"No amount of time prepares you for your first heart break. Especially when the cause of that embarrasses you in front of another court by declaring he does not love you back." Lucien gave a pointed look to Nyx with narrowed eyes.

"Not my finest moment." Nyx cringed as he thought back to all he said. Nyx walked back to Violet to help her up from behind the couch.

"The spirits feed on her emotions. She let her guard down, but they cannot take without giving. They gave her too much power to control with her emotions as tumultuous as they were. The more negative the emotion? The more all-consuming and dangerous that power becomes." Lucien explained. Although it hardly made any sense to Nyx.

"How can they feed if she does not call on them? Why do they not feed on our emotions?" Violet asked as she wiped dirt from her dress.

"The tattoos, a price she has paid for a past use of witch magic, acts as a tracking device. Much like you build mind barriers to keep other Daemati out, Isa needs to keep her barriers in place to prevent the spirits from taking freely. The tattoos call to spirits when they glow and the loss of her mind barrier allowed them in without her permission. As for the reason they do not feed on our emotions? Unsure. Isa jokes that regular fae emotions must taste bad." Lucien finally grabbed a napkin to press to the wound above his eye. He muttered an apology to Feyre for ruining it.

"Why did she not kick them out once she realized?" Feyre asked instead of responding to his apology.

"She probably did not realize she was giving her emotions freely to the spirits. They rewarded her with power. Mix in some fae magic, shape shifting abilities, and boom you have an uncontrollable dangerous cocktail in the form of a small female."

"The eyes?" Azriel quietly mentioned with raised brows. His shadows were moving erratically all around him.

"That is not up for discussion along with her mother." Lucien sent Nyx a glare.

"I know it was a low blow." He admitted. He would apology as soon as he was allowed.

"Isa loves her mother very much. You can love a person and despise their actions. Right Feyre?" It was an accusing statement. Everyone could see what Lucien was insinuating. His mother at some point or another loved Tamlin even if she pretended she never had. Feyre only rolled her eyes, but Rhysand sent a glare of his own back to Lucien.

"I should apologize. I do love her." Nyx felt the need to admit to everyone. "Just not in the way that she wants." He threw himself down on the couch. Violet followed his lead and rested her head on his shoulder.

"Not now. The reason witches do not readily offer their emotions is because it leaves them numb. It is a very unpleasant feeling and will be like talking to a wall." Lucien grimaced. Nyx assumed Lucien was thinking of the last time it happened.

"Has this happened before?" Azriel inquired.

"When her mother died. That's it." Lucien shrugged and dropped the napkin.

"I didn't know. I never meant to hurt her." Nyx felt the need to explain himself, but found there were no words to do so.

"If I know Isa, all she wanted to hear was that you care for her in some capacity."

"She knows that." Nyx insisted. He rested his head on top of his sisters. He was suddenly overcome with exhaustion unlike any other.

"Does she? Cause you had me fooled otherwise tonight." Lucien quickly winnowed away after that. A look around the room showed disapproving looks from everyone.

*****

"Thank you for coming." Tamlin shifted awkwardly in his chair. The Night Court inner circle looked on from their respective chairs in what Nyx assumed must be the formal sitting room. His parents, himself, and his sister squished together on one couch. Azriel took an arm chair to the left of Tamlin and the last chair remained unclaimed. Nyx stared at the chair as if he could make her appear simply from his stare.

"How is she?" Rhysand cleared his throat to ask. Tamlin gave a tight smile.

"Fine." He paused, debating whether he should say the next thing. "We lifted the ward on this room. If things should get out of hand today, you may winnow away."

Feyre narrowed her eyes at him.

"I thought you said she had it under control."

Tamlin sighed heavily and slouched in his chair. He rubbed at his temples as if this entire meeting exhausted him.

"You will see that you are in no danger. It is just a precaution."

Azriel went to say something, but stopped and looked towards the door. It was utterly silent. A few minutes later, Isa walked through the door with her head down. She looked...bad. In the kindest way possible because Nyx knew she had been through a lot mentally. It had clearly taken a toll on her physically. She shuffled to the last available seat without making eye contact. When she finally looked up, Nyx's heart lurched. She was pale with dark circles under her eyes. Her cheeks had sunken in from weight loss, leaving her looking like she consisted only of skin and bone. It was jarring considering how solidly built she had been previously. She had always been muscular; now though, he saw no hint of it. Her dress must have been fitted to her recently since it fit her well. It was a light green color similar to her eyes and flowed around her like a wedding dress. She might look beautiful if she did not look so sick. Nyx made eye contact with his sister's wide, shocked eyes. A quiet gasp left his mother's lips. Isa tried a small smile, but Nyx noticed her fingers nervously traced the new tattoos on her other hand.

"I apologize for my little display last week." She started. "I thought I had a better grip on my powers. Obviously not. I have spoken with my coven on the matter and I will be returning home for additional training."

Nyx contemplated whether he should speak or not. Last time they only exchanged spiteful words. He did not want those words to be the last she heard from him. He cleared his throat.

"Does your coven know about the first born debacle?" He felt it was a neutral enough of a statement. Isa replied simply.

"No."

"It is best if that is never discussed aloud." Tamlin interjected.

"How long will you be gone?" Violet asked. They had become friends as well and his sister looked sad at the prospect of her leaving.

"Until I need to claim my position as High Lady." Isa stared at her hands as she spoke. Violet gasped at the information.

"But that could be hundreds of years!"

Nyx frowned. He thought it might take Isa a few months to lose interest in himself and then they could return to just being friends. This seemed extreme, but perhaps they could still visit each other every once in a while. Isa only shrugged. Nyx felt dread at Isa's lack of emotional display. She had been rather devoid of anything else. The effects of the spirits must be taking more of a toll than anyone else assumed.

"That will leave you unprepared for your role as high lady. You do not have many allies or friends," Azriel started what appeared to be an oddly placed reprimand. "You should use all the time you have to form relationships with the other courts and possible emissaries."

"Lucien said he would help me when I first take over."

"That is not enough." Rhysand agreed as him and Tamlin shared a look.

"You will help me, no?" She asked.

"We may not have the time to devote to helping you run your court." Feyre said. Isa's eyes slid past Nyx's and landed on Violet's.

"I could help." His sister offered with a smile that looked so similar to their mother's.

"It would be very much appreciated." Isa tried to give a smile of her own but it only succeeded in showing how miserable this past week has been for her.

"You may want to consider marriage." Azriel felt the need to mention. "You will be at a disadvantage when you return, but a well aligned marriage could work. The prince of the Summer Court is unmarried, but you may find yourself at war with Amren over him. There is a princess of the Summer court that may be interested." His shadows tucked in tight to him.

"I shall consider that. Thank you for the advice, spymaster." No hint of her accent could be heard. Nyx realized she was focusing on disguising the accent in order to focus her attention. Her eyes kept wandering around the room as though she could not keep focus on the current conversation.

Tamlin appeared to nudge Isa subtly. He gave her a stern look before she turned back to look at Feyre.

"I apologize for the things I said about you." She said barely above a whisper. Feyre gave her a soft look which must have urged her to keep going. "Sometimes I feel angry at you because I see a life I could have had. With you as my mom. It is not fair, but it is true." Nyx could see tears in his mother's eyes that she quickly blinked away.

"I understand that sometimes we say things we do not mean. Right, Nyx?" Feyre gave her son a look. She was giving him an opening to say his piece while simultaneously avoiding responding to Isa. He should tell Isa that he did not mean it.

"Isa, I do love you. Just not in the way you are wanting." He tried to make eye contact with her so that she knew he was speaking the truth, but she did not look up from her hands.

"Okay." She gave a simple shrug.

Nyx felt his eyes brows furrowed at that. He was not sure what he expected her reaction to be, but something more than that. It made him feel something he was not ready to admit. And at this point, would never admit.

"Okay?" He asked with raised eyebrows. Isa was still refusing to look up at him, so he look towards his father who kept signaling with his eyes to go and comfort her.

"Yes, I understand I cannot make someone love me." The bland delivery of the words encouraged Nyx to move towards her. He kneeled before her in her chair and grabbed her hands, forcing her to look at him.

"I do love you." He emphasized. He did not want this to get lost in the mess of everything else. Something about that seemed to spark something in her eyes though. The sight of it made Nyx relieved.

"Not in the vay I vant to be loved. Not in the vay I dezerve to be loved." Her accent was extremely heavy and she began to grip his hands back just as strongly as he was holding hers. Tears gathered in her eyes but they did not fall.

"I vill no longer give you more than you dezerve, Nyx." And with that declaration, the last of her fight left her. She softly pulled her hands away and stood up. Her eyes were blank once more.

"I apologize once again for putting your lives at risk. It will not happen again."

And then she was drooping back to her room with slows steps.

"That went...well." Violet offered unhelpfully. "Right?"

#nyx acotar #acotar #tamlin’s daughter #feyre archeron #rhysand #tamlin

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