#you know that thing in high school essays where you’d forget a word and put a ^ with the word above it

[fureiya]

I love you 1700s headstones I love you thin sprawling typeface with spelling errors I love you macabre memento mori stanzas I love you men only having one of four names and all marrying women named elizabeth

[wonderful-writes]

Presume

Pairing: Tom Riddle x Fem!Reader

Summary: Tom thinks you’re too pretty to be any good at academics. You can imagine his shock when he’s proven wrong.

Word Count: 2k (2,097)

Author’s Note: The idea for this fic was given to me by @bellaswansrealgf. It was such a fun topic to write, so thank you so much bae for coming up with the idea! I’ll definitely be using more of your suggestions in the future.

Tom Riddle found himself becoming increasingly irritated. How could Professor Slughorn possibly expect him to work with a partner? What kind of fool did Slughorn think he was? Tom was perfectly capable of completing his project himself, and it was rather insulting for his professor to assign someone to help him. And not just anyone. Slughorn had assigned you.

You, the pretty girl, were in no capacity an ideal partner. You were friendly and charming and surely too bubble-headed to know a thing about potions. You were probably irritating and selfish and vain, too. Tom would have rather been partnered up with the clown from Gryffindor than with you.

“Tom, right?” you asked as you took a seat next to him. You were dressed in neat robes and had nicely styled hair. You probably spent all morning on it.

“Yes,” he replied curtly without so much as a glance your way. He began flipping his textbook to the desired page and scanning it with his eyes.

“I’m Y/N,” you introduced.

Tom ignored you as he continued to read the page.

“So, what kind of potion do you think we should make?” you asked him, opening your own book.

Once again, Tom didn’t bother to look up or respond.

“Hello?” you tried again.

He let out an exasperated sigh. “Listen, I know potions is probably not your area of expertise, so it’s best if you just sit there and let me work.”

“Excuse me?” you asked, surprised at how this stranger could claim to already know you without having ever spoken to you. “How would you know if I’m not good at potions?”

Tom scoffed. “If you haven’t noticed, you don’t exactly look like you’d be much of an academic.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?” you questioned, starting to get offended.

“Well, I’m the best in the class,” Tom said like it was the most natural thing to come out of his mouth. “Professor Slughorn probably sent you here so that I could babysit you. You can’t be any good if you need me as a mentor.”

“I don’t need you as a mentor,” you told him. “Professor Slughorn wanted us to work together for this assignment.”

“Like I said,” he replied, turning back to his book, “maybe you should let me handle the assignment.”

You were beyond aggravated. How could someone who barely knows you make such assumptions about you? You were more than adept in potions, and it was unfair of him to shut you down without letting you prove your skills.

“You realize this assignment is worth 25% of our grade, don’t you?” you asked him as you crossed your arms.

 “Precisely,” he answered. “Which is why I won’t let you mess it up.”

You had never met a more arrogant person.

“If you’re going to be this way,” you declared, “I’ll just ask Slughorn if I can work alone. I wouldn’t want to inconvenience the great Tom Riddle.”

Tom breathed a sigh of relief as you packed your belongings and walked away. You were attractive, sure, but you were also annoying. He was glad to be rid of anyone who didn’t let him take charge.

Slughorn allowed the two of you to work separately. To Tom’s approval, you set up your station far away from his. He almost pitied you. It couldn’t be easy for someone like you to complete an entire project by yourself. People like you only cared about their appearances or what the latest gossip was. There was no way you could make any of the complicated potions on the list of options for the assignment without help.

~

By the end of the week, Slughorn had finished grading the students’ potions and their accompanying essays. Tom, ever so confident in his abilities, was shocked when he didn’t receive a perfect score.

“What did I do wrong, Professor?” he asked after class had been dismissed. “I could have sworn I didn’t miss anything.”

“You forgot to crush the bay leaves before you put them in,” Slughorn explained. “But not to worry, my boy. You chose a highly complex concoction. It is almost guaranteed that any student who attempts to recreate it will forget at the very least one step.”

“Did anyone else choose that potion?” Tom wondered.

Slughorn nodded with a twinkle in his eye.

“And did anyone get it right?” Tom asked. He was doubtful that anyone in the class could have succeeded at something he failed to perfect, but it didn’t hurt to ask.

“That’s for me to know, my boy,” the teacher answered. Seeing the frustrated look on Tom’s face, he chuckled and added, “Just know that you shouldn’t judge your partners so prematurely.”

Tom spent the majority of the night ruminating on Slughorn’s words. Could it be that you were the student who had gotten the perfect score on the potion he had attempted? He refused to believe it. Slughorn must have been referring to another student, one that Tom was paired with in the past. You couldn’t possibly be the partner in question.

~

It had been weeks since Tom came in second for the first time in his life. He convinced himself that it couldn’t have been you who bested him. Of course, he speculated who the true victor could be, but he couldn’t put his finger on who in the class could be worthy of such high marks.

Eventually, the time came for the annual examination preparation. Professor Slughorn’s students were assigned a series of practice exams to help them prepare for the actual ones. Each practice test focused on a different area within potions, and it was the students’ job to be well-versed in all of them.

At the beginning of every week, a new practice exam was passed out, and the grades for the previous week’s exam was posted on a roster at the front of the class.

Tom never bothered with making a show of checking his grades, knowing fully well that he would always be at the head of the class. But with the newfound knowledge of a possible competitor, he couldn’t quell his curiosity.

Making his way to the front of the room with the usual throng of Slytherin boys, he displayed no sign of concern. Why should the best in the year have to worry about some halfwit who ran into a bit of luck one time?

His air of indifference was quickly squashed, however, when he approached the posted practice exam scores and saw that his was the second highest. Second? That couldn’t be right. Tom Riddle never came in second. Who was first? Who could feasibly best Tom Riddle at a potions examination? The most brilliant student in all of Hogwarts, and in his best subject too?

He was horrified beyond comparison when he saw none other than your name at the pinnacle of the score sheet.

You.

Impossible. There was no chance that the bubbly girl with the face of an angel, er, a moron, could ever have received such excellent marks.

He’d seen you around, and you were most definitely not the kind of girl who cared about your performance in school. You were always smiling with your friends or tucking your hair behind your ear or dazzling a crowd with an extraordinary story. When you weren’t smoothing down your clothes or checking your made-up face, you were befriending the professors, something only stupid people needed to do.

So how could you have gotten a higher score than him? There must have been a mistake. He would have to ask Slughorn about it after class.

As he walked back to his seat, he glanced at where you were positioned, a table not too far from his own. You had already started on your assignment for the day, making quick work of the cutting and crushing of ingredients. Sure enough, you were dripping with the grace and beauty of someone who most likely didn’t know the difference between reed and foxtail.

How could one possibly be proficient in any academic subject when they looked like that? You probably spent more time shining your shoes than studying for exams. Then how did you beat him, and twice?

He watched you work for the remainder of the period. To his surprise, you were doing everything correctly. You never added a drop too much or a sprig too little. You stirred with precision and knew what color to look for in the brew. You seemed to know exactly what you were doing. Were you truly more intelligent than he had originally presumed?

Still unconvinced, he approached Professor Slughorn after dismissal to question the scores from the most recent exam.

Slughorn only sent him a mysterious look before answering, “Everything is as it should.”

-

After the third week of coming in second place, Tom decided that it was enough. It was time he put his troubles to rest and find out for himself what sort of witchcraft was in play.

“Are you cheating?” he abruptly asked you the moment you took your seat. Professor Slughorn was not yet in class, giving the students ample time to converse before lessons began.

Startled, you stared back at him. “What?”

“You must be receiving help on your practice exams or at the very least borrowing notes from someone,” he stated matter-of-factly. “So tell me. Who is it?”

You had had enough of this arrogant git’s behavior. “What makes you think I need help? Is it so hard to believe that you are not the only person in this room who can do well in school?”

“Well I- you see, you’re not exactly the sort to put much thought to academics,” he defended.

“And what sort is that?” you questioned.

“You know, the vain, pretty lot,” he said as if it was the most obvious thing in the world. “I’d imagine you spend more time on your appearance than on your academics.”

You gaped at the boy before you. “You think I’m pretty? And before you go on, my appearance has nothing to do with my drive to excel in scholarly affairs. I’ll have you know I’m more than capable of receiving just as good of marks as you are, despite what you think.”

“Then work with me on today’s partner project,” he challenged.

“Excuse me?” The last thing you were expecting was for the high-and-mighty Tom Riddle to want anything to do with you after his blatant rudeness.

“If you’re truly as good as you say—”

“You mean as good as the scores prove,” you cut in.

Tom rolled his eyes. “If you’re really that good, show me. Demonstrate your skills on today’s potion, and I’ll believe you.”

So the two of you spent the class working together on the assigned potion. Tom made sure to stand back so that you could have the freedom to do things on your own, silently hoping that you would make a mistake. But you didn’t.

Your potion was perfect. There was not an herb out of place or a drop not potent enough. Everything was as it should.

You had clearly proven to Tom that you were a skilled student, worthy of his second glance. You only hoped that the self-righteous twat would realize not to judge people before knowing them.

“While I hate to admit my own shortcomings, you were right,” Tom conceded.

You smiled at his admittance. “Thanks, Tom. I’m glad you learned something from this experience.”

He had expected to feel more disdain at the fact that he had finally found his match. He was waiting for annoyance, jealousy, some spark of rage at being second-best. But all he felt was a strange sensation.

You were quite honestly brilliant, and he couldn’t remember a time when he genuinely thought that about a fellow student. You were quick-witted, sharp-tongued, and unafraid to back down from a challenge. You stood up to him despite barely knowing anything about him, other than that he was a royal pain to you. And, not to mention, you were quite a sight to behold.

It was no secret that Tom kept to himself more often than not. Sure, he had a group of peers who respected him — whether out of fear or genuine liking is up for debate — but he never got to know anyone on a personal level. He never let anyone get too close or see him for someone other than the shining pupil with big plans. But, for once, he wanted someone to share his genius with.

He intended to make you that person.

—

Part 2

[bts-hyperfixation]

Sweethearts

Your high school graduation was just like the ones you’d seen in the movies. After excepting your diplomas in front of your families, you and your friends headed of to a random field for a bonfire and camping. It was a night you never wanted to forget. It was filled with old stories and laughter, nostalgic memories and wishes for the future. Most importantly it was spent with the boy you thought would be your one and only. Jungkook was supposed to be your forever. That was the night you lost your virginity to him.

It was awkward and uncomfortable, both of you fumbling to figure things out through messy kisses and rough grasps, but you wouldn’t have changed it for the world. You spent that night wrapped in each-other’s arms, dreaming of what the future could hold. It had all seemed so perfect, everything set out in front of you. Attending the same university, finding jobs in the same city and eventually marriage. It was all mapped out waiting for you… until it wasn’t.

Like most high school romances, it all fell apart. Not immediately, and not all at once. It started with little things: your workload got too heavy, his friends teased him, you both lashed out in frustration. By the end of the first semester, it became too much and after a long tear-filled goodbye you let each other go.

That was almost a year ago now. You had managed to avoid seeing him for the most part and were moving on well. Obviously, some of the rumours made their way to you:

“Did you hear Jeon slept with almost all of the drama girls before they found out about each other?”

“I heard he was so good none of them cared.”

“I mean his numbers that high at this point it makes you wonder doesn’t it….”

“Yeah, he must be a GOD in bed.”

You usually just shook your head at the giggling girls and moved on. It still hurt to think about him sometimes, but you breathed through the pain and got on with life.

One afternoon you are studying in a coffee shop on campus, not long before winter break. The essay you were working on was kicking your ass and you had decided a change in scenery would do you some good. Just as you take a sip of your drink, you realise it was a fatal mistake. Your eyes find each other instantly when he walks through the door with his buddies. You gulp down your drink and rush to return his grin with a somewhat confident look of your own. His hair is longer now, pulled back into a bun at the back but his bangs hang loose around his face, perfectly framing his deep eyes. He is more heartbreakingly beautiful now than he has ever been, It isn’t long until the moment you share is broken by a blonde throwing herself into his arms. She giggles and slaps at his biceps, chastising him about something you can’t hear. It feels like someone’s punched you in the stomach. Everything is too warm as you watch the way he basks in her attention, friends hollering in support of whatever’s happening. You don’t bother looking back at him as you pack your things away. That’s how you miss the way his smile faulters as he watches you leave.

Once home you abandon all plans of finishing your essay, instead reaching under your bed to pull out a dusty shoebox you hadn’t thought about since you’d put it there. You empty it’s contents on to the sheets. You stare at the remnants of your relationship scattered around you. Movie stubs, polaroids, and old gifts. You don’t realise you are crying until a droplet hits an image in front of you, smearing the handwritten caption on the bottom. You lift the picture to study it. Your past-self stares back, sat in his lap and folded in his loving embrace. His nose is scrunched, it’s the part of his smile that made you fall in love with him in the first place. The words at the bottom once read “Me and you forever baby” in his handwriting. Thanks to your tears, it now said “you forever baby.” In a sick way it made you laugh, now more accurate. You pick up the small pink bear he had once won for you out of habit, still finding comfort in its worn fur. Not pausing to tidy the items away again you curl into yourself and fall asleep.

It must be a few hours later when your awoken by someone banging at your door. You glance at the mess around you and try to make sense of what’s going on. Your alarm clock on the bedside table reads 00:00. That’s when you hear his voice through the wood.

“Y/N… let me in… please.” His words are a little slurred and he sounds upset, but there’s no mistaking the owner. You open the door and take in his puffy cheeks, evidence that he had been crying too. For a little while the two of you stare at each other, finally seeing the pain that had haunted you both for so long. It takes him shivering for you to realise you hadn’t let him in. you shuffle sideways, and he enters your apartment. You close the door and turn to face him, finding him leafing through the photos strewn across your bed he smiles fondly at the memories, lifting the same image you had been staring at a few hours prior.

“Do you remember this?” he questions, not wanting to get to the point of his surprise visit.

“Graduation.” You croak, voice still weak from crying. He collects the items and places them back into the box for you before sitting on the edge of your bed. You move to join him, careful to sit far away enough to enforce boundaries.

“Do you still love me?” the question catches you off guard, you’d spent months convincing yourself he had moved on. No one fucks half the campus without moving on from their past.

“What are you doing Kookie?” he cringes at the old nickname as you scold him. “Why are you doing this to me?” fresh tears form in your eye at this new form of torture. He reaches a hand to comfort you like he used to and then thinks better of it, dropping the limb back into his lap.

“I don’t know Y/N, all I do know is I can’t keep kissing strangers pretending they are you.” His eyes search yours for a response, but you are too shell shocked to react. “It hurts too much still. Every time I try to fill the void you left, I fail and end up hurting more than ever.”

“I… It ...It doesn’t work Jungkook, we tried, it wasn’t meant to be, it was too hard.” You try to reason with him despite every bone in your body demanding you do the opposite.

“Screw that! We should’ve tried harder. I will do anything to prove to you that we can still work… please just let me try.” This time when he reaches for you, he doesn’t hesitate, pulling you into him and kissing you passionately. You melt into his embrace, seduced by his words. Desperately clinging to every part of him you could reach. Trying to reclaim what you had lost. He falls backwards onto the sheets and you follow, straddling him, trapping him underneath you as you re-discover one another. His hands travel lower playing with the hem of your shirt before tugging it upward. You toss the fabric away from you and return to his lips, craving his taste. He takes you by surprise when he flips you. He had never been weak, but clearly his time in the gym was not going to waist. He leaves hot open-mouthed kisses from you chin to your cleavage paying close attention to the parts he remembers as the most sensitive.

You shiver under his touch as he pulls the lace cup of your bralette out of his way, nipping at the skin around your nipple. He plays with the bud for a while his hand absentmindedly playing with your other breast. Satisfied with his teasing he forges on, tugging the waist band of your pants with him. You lift your hips to help him remove the unwanted fabric and he makes quick work of it, soon returning to your now exposed core. He drags a finger up your slit before taking the wet finger into his mouth. Watching him savour the taste drove you insane. He let out a moan at the familiar flavour making you whine in response.

“I’m going to make you feel so good baby girl. So good that everything’s okay again.” You nod feverishly, wanting nothing more than to believe his words. He licks along your entrance collecting your juices on his tongue before sucking your clit into his mouth. You tried not to think about how he had gotten so good at what he was doing and focused on the pleasure. Soon he added two fingers to your dripping vagina, finding your most sensitive areas with ease. Whimpers tumble freely from your lips as you feel the coil in your stomach begin to stretch. The final straw comes when he ads the third finger, the stretch proving too much for you as he scissors the digits inside of you. You cum harder than you think you’ve ever cum before. He resurfaces once you’ve ridden out your high; his chin dripping with you. You don’t think he has ever looked better.

You grab at the top knot at the back of his head pulling the band loose and using the new length of his hair to your advantage. His face his back against yours in seconds. You can taste yourself on his lips. You tug at his long locks as he grinds himself against your leg, reminding you he is fully clothed. Suddenly displeased with his state of attire, your hands moved to undo the fly on his jeans. You slide one hand into his boxers, grasping at his length and pumping a little, trailing your fingertips along the underside. The bunny smile you love so much appears on his face as he pulls away from you, shedding his own clothes. You can’t help but let your eyes wander down his newly chiselled physique. The v at the bottom of his torso now much more prominent, a clear arrow to where you wanted to be most right now.

You make a grabby motion, and he chuckles, lowering himself back onto you. You try to gain the upper hand, attempting to flip the two of you back over so you could ride him freely. Unfortunately, he is prepared and stays firm, keeping you trapped under his weight. You pout at the inability to play.

“I want to make you feel good too.” He kisses your nose; it’d come off as patronising if it had been anyone one else.

“You can do that another time, right now I need to make you feel the way you’ve always deserved.” He punctuates his words by thrusting into you. He leans on one arm, using the free hand to rub at your clit as he sets a leisurely pace between your hips. You arch your back from the oversensitivity of your nerves, still recovering from the last mind-blowing orgasm. This only allows him better access to the most sensitive parts inside of you. The steady rhythm and assault on your clit have your second high appearing quickly. Unable to contain yourself you grasp onto his back leaving small half-moon indentations where your nails dig into his skin. The moan you let out is unearthly, making him moan in response. His grunts and the hitting of skin echo through the room as he speeds up in search of his own end.

It doesn’t take long for him to follow you to orgasm. Halting deep inside you, he releases and collapses on top of you. You let out a loud grunt at the weight and he laughs before rolling to the side and pulling you into his chest.

Masterlist

More from these prompts - closed

Holiday prompts - open

[stargazing-enby]

The Mysterious Case of the Unclaimed Jumper

Thanks @april-thelightfury115 for betaing!

Drarry | 2k | Teen and Up | Eighth Year, Pining, Fluff | Read on AO3

“Harry!" 

Ron and Hermione halted, leaving Harry no choice but to do the same. He was exhausted, and it had already taken too much energy to get up from their table at the Three Broomsticks so they could make it to the Hogwarts grounds before Filch closed the gates in their faces. The last thing he wanted was to talk to people, lovely as Madam Rosmerta was. 

“Sorry to keep you, kids, but someone forgot this on one of the tables. Would you please do me the favour of taking it back to Hogwarts with you? I still have patrons to attend.” 

“Uh...sure.” Harry took the khaki jumper she was handing him—gosh, but it was much softer than it looked—and she smiled at him appreciatively. 

“How do you know it’s from a Hogwarts student, though?” Hermione asked. 

Madam Rosmerta snorted. 

“Because none of my patrons are naive enough to step into the inn whenever you kids are taking over the town. Teenagers are loud as all hell, in case you hadn’t noticed!” 

“All right,” Harry said quickly, dreading the idea of the exchange turning into a full-fledged conversation. “We’ll take care of it. Have a nice evening, Madam Rosmerta.” 

On their way back to the castle, though, Harry started to regret his decision. It was the beginning of the school year, and the transition from summer to autumn had fooled many Hogwarts students into putting on warm clothes to fight the morning chill, which meant practically everyone had ended up carrying jumpers and jackets over their shoulders and around their waists for most of the day. The jumper could be anyone’s. 

“What are you going to do with the jumper, anyway? It could be anyone’s,” Hermione echoed his thoughts, turning from Ron to Harry.

“I have no idea,” Harry admitted.

“Maybe you could hand it to one of the Heads of House. Or...” Her voice shifted into that tone of hers that meant she knew she’d come up with a brilliant idea, “we could tell the ghosts to ask around the castle and see if anyone is missing a jumper!” 

Even as Harry nodded, Ron shook his head in disbelief. 

“Or you could just smell it,” he said like it was the most obvious thing in the world and he couldn’t believe it hadn’t occurred to either of them. Harry and Hermione just stared at him. “What?” 

“That’s kind of creepy,” Harry said. 

“Wha— No it’s not! Don’t you know clothes smell like their owners?” Silence. Ron looked increasingly exasperated. “Come on, don’t tell me your families didn’t smell the clothes lying around the house all the time to figure out who they belonged to!” 

“Er…I’m afraid not.” 

“That’s probably only a necessity when you have seven kids’ clothes to keep track of,” Hermione offered. 

“Yeah…fair enough,” Ron grumbled. “Still, it won’t hurt to try. If it’s from someone our year we’ll probably be able to recognise them.” 

Harry doubted that would be the case, but then Hermione and Ron turned to him, expectant, and he didn’t have a choice but to bring a corner of the jumper to his face and give it a sniff. 

“...Oh.”

“Well?” Hermione asked. 

“It’s…” Harry smelled it again. “It’s familiar.” Familiar and nice, he thought, giving it one extra sniff for good measure. “But I just can’t tell who it is.” 

“Oh?” Ron grabbed a sleeve, brought it to his nose. “Hmm…Yeah, I see what you mean. It’s definitely not a Gryffindor bloke. ‘Mione, why don’t you try?” 

“I’ll pass, thank you very much.” 

“Eh, that’s fine. I’m sure if we leave it in the Eighth Year Common Room someone will claim it sooner or later.” 

“Yeah,” Harry murmured, folding the jumper properly over his arm. 

As a new conversation started, Harry held the jumper a little bit closer. 

***

The stupid thing was still where they’d left it—hung over one of the Common Room couches, the one nearest the hearth—when they came back from Hagrid’s, its pale khaki tone contrasting starkly with the purple sofa. 

Hermione led the way to their usual corner of the room, keen on getting some more homework done before bed, and Harry tried to ignore the jumper, just visible out of the corner of his eye. His friends had clearly forgotten about it, and Harry didn’t bring it up again. 

But the feel of it, the scent of it, was ingrained in his thoughts, and concentrating on his Potions essay soon proved to be an impossible task. Merlin, he knew that scent. He knew it well; every time he’d sniffed the jumper, it’d been like a word was on the tip of his tongue; like a thought in the back of his mind wouldn’t come forth.

Like there was a need, buried deep within him, that he couldn’t fulfill, because he didn’t know what it was he was yearning for. Who it was he was yearning for. 

So he looked. Every few minutes, as much as he tried to avoid it, he looked back at the couch, waiting, hoping that someone would walk past and go, Hey! That’s where it was! And the missing piece inside Harry’s mind would finally click. 

But no one picked the jumper up, and when practically everyone had gone to their dorms, and Ron and Hermione had finished neglecting their homework—Ron’s fingers tracing Hermione’s knuckles, her cheek resting on his shoulder, a goofy smile brightening his face—and seemed ready to call it a night, Harry decided he simply couldn’t leave it alone. 

“You guys go ahead,” he told them. “I feel like I’m finally making progress with this essay, and if I stop now it’s going to be impossible to pick it up again tomorrow.”

As soon as he was alone, though, Harry stuffed the parchment in his bag and made for the couch at a pace just slightly faster than could be reasonably considered walking. 

Ah. The scent was just as enticing as he remembered it from earlier. 

Harry basked in it for a few moments. When someone walked into the Common Room—Terry and Hannah, who nodded at him on their way to their dorms—he let go of it as though it had burned him, but as soon as he was alone again he draped it over his lap and raked a hand over it, thinking, wondering. 

It wasn’t Hannah’s or Terry’s, Harry knew: not just because they hadn’t recognised it on sight, but because the smell did not belong to either of them. It was…deeper. It was masculine, definitely—a hint of sweat at the armpit area, like the owner hadn’t taken it off straight away after growing hot underneath it—and it was intense, in that it did things to Harry; riled him up, and brought him back down from the high, only to make his heart quicken again as soon as the thrill of it had diluted in his veins. 

Sighing, Harry lay on his back and placed the jumper, once again, over the armrest behind his head, just close enough for the scent to reach him. 

The hearth crackled. A House Elf vanished the crumbs and dust from the floor with a spell and disappeared again. Nearly-Headless Nick floated by, but didn’t seem to notice him. 

The door to the Common Room didn’t open again. 

***

“Are we going to do this every night now?” Greg grumbled, dragging the last word—practically dragging himself to the Common Room behind Draco. 

“Only until I force Slughorn to give me an Outstanding,” Draco said. “Which won’t take long, because my first essay was clearly perfect, and if that one wasn’t enough for him, this one will for sure. I swear that old man has it out against me!” 

A portrait shushed him, and Draco flipped it the bird. It wasn’t like there was anyone sleeping in the bloody halls. Or roaming them, for that matter: only Prefects and Eighth Years were allowed outside the Common Rooms past curfew, and it had been a good hour since he’d seen any of the former around. 

“Gardyloo,” he told Sir Cadogan upon reaching the Eighth Year Common Room entrance. Glad as he was that he didn’t have to share a space with people from other years, entering his new Common Room had to be one of the most draining moments of his day. And so, before Sir Cadogan could start spewing nonsense about him and Greg, Draco Silencio’d him, watching as the knight gestured dramatically without uttering a sound until the door had closed. 

“Draco, isn’t that your…?”

Draco saw it just as Greg pointed at it. 

“My jumper.” Salazar, he’d put that jumper on that morning, hadn’t he? When had he even taken it off? He’d completely forgotten all about it. 

He doubted he would ever forget the sight that greeted them, however. 

“Uh, Draco…? What’s Potter doing with your jumper?” 

“It would seem that he is cuddling it, Gregory,” Draco said, tone flat. Completely out of tune with his raging thoughts. 

“More like curling himself around it,” Greg murmured, and Draco could only agree. 

Merlin. Potter looked so young when he slept. So small, like he was afraid to take up space. His hair fanned over his forehead and his face, some of it caught between his arm and Draco’s jumper. His chest falling and rising slowly, evenly. His feet pressed close as if to keep their warmth. 

Draco shook his head, annoyed that he had allowed himself to be caught off-guard by the sight, and walked up to Potter. Grasped his jumper, and pulled at it. 

Potter’s eyes snapped open and stared right into his. 

***

Oh. 

Oh. 

“Fuck,” Harry slurred, sitting up, half-asleep and entirely too awake, as Malfoy took the jumper from him and just stared at him. “Fuck. Sorry. Madam Rosmerta told me to bring it…the...you’d left it there. It’s yours, right?” he asked, even though he didn’t need to. It was Malfoy’s, of course it was Malfoy’s. His strong, deep, alluring scent was unmistakable now. 

“Yes,” Malfoy said. He sounded weird—strained. His eyes were fixed on Harry. “It’s mine.” 

“Right,” Harry nodded. Then, after a few moments: “Er. Sorry about that. I must’ve fallen asleep.”

Malfoy snorted. 

“Never would’ve guessed.” 

“Can we go to bed now?” 

Harry whipped his head around—he hadn’t noticed Goyle was there with them. 

“Go ahead,” Malfoy told him. “I’m right behind you.”

“M’kay then. G’night, Potter,” Goyle said with a yawn, dragging his feet to the stairs. 

“Er…night?” 

Malfoy huffed again. 

“Don’t mind him. He’s an idiot when he’s sleepy.”

“No offence, but he’s an idiot all the time,” Harry said. 

“You’re one to talk.” Malfoy looked at him, then. He wasn’t as stiff now, although he was still weirdly clinging to his jumper, a gesture that reminded Harry of his own fixation with it earlier. “No one with more than two brain cells falls asleep in the Common Room, honestly.” 

“Piss off, I was exhausted!” 

“Oh, I’m sure you were,” Malfoy retorted. “That still doesn’t explain why you didn’t utilise your perfectly comfortable bed to meet the need, though.” 

Harry glared at him, and Malfoy arched an eyebrow. 

“Well?”

“Why do you want to know so bad?” Harry bit back—a little childishly, he knew, but it wasn’t like Malfoy was acting much more maturely right now. “Did you enjoy the sight that much?” 

“Wh—don’t be preposterous!” Malfoy spluttered, a grimace distorting his sharp features. A grimace that did nothing to distract Harry from the angry blush spreading across his cheeks. From the way Malfoy averted his gaze, clutching at the jumper so hard he was almost twisting it. 

“Oh my god,” Harry breathed. “You did enjoy it, didn’t you?” 

Malfoy’s panicked gaze turned back to him. 

“No, I didn’t!” 

Almost as mesmerised as he was amused, Harry stood. He took one more look at Malfoy’s increasingly flushed expression, just to be sure he wasn’t reading it wrong, and then stepped into Malfoy’s personal space. When Malfoy’s breath hitched, Harry, heart in his throat, brought a hand to his flushed cheek. It was soft: softer than the jumper. 

Malfoy stood completely still, wide eyes stuck on Harry’s face. A breath stuck in his lungs: waiting. 

Heart racing, Harry let his hand stray back. Let himself caress Malfoy’s cheek and jaw, let himself cup Malfoy’s head at the nape, play with the hair there—Merlin, was there anything about Malfoy that wasn’t illegally soft?—and lean forward to take a long, deep sniff of his hair. 

Malfoy shivered, and it suddenly hit Harry just how close their bodies were. 

“Potter.” a broken whisper.

Harry inhaled again, his own skin tingling with excitement—anticipation—lust for that scent. That scent that belonged to Malfoy, that now had every reason to drive him fucking insane, to draw him near, to leave him hanging. How had he not recognised it straight away? There was nobody else who could elicit such a response from him. Whose mere closeness thrilled him like this. 

“I needed to know,” Harry said, voice low, as he let his hand slide down slightly, a caress that ended on the jut of Malfoy’s spine at the base of his neck, fingers splayed over the edge of a shoulder blade. Then, pulling back his hand, taking a step back: “I needed to know who that intoxicating scent belonged to.”

As Harry retreated toward the stairs, Malfoy swayed, eyes closed. Jumper clutched close to his chest. 

***

The following evening, when Harry arrived at the Common Room after dinner, a deep grey jumper was draped over the armrest of the couch closest to the hearth. 

[fukurodaze]

if i ever get lost

pairing/s: third year!haiba lev x gn!reader genre: fluff, romantic tension aka best and softest tension word count: 3.2k warnings: like, one curse word this was also requested by anon! “3rd year Lev w a reader who’s struggling to pass all their homeworks, projects and quizzes (bc they piled up their works ;;) while thinking of how should they study for college/uni entrance exams?”

special thanks to nat @natszoo​ and ellie @lcnelyinthesky​ for beta reading and helping me w this!! 

LISTEN TO: somebody loves you - jeremy zucker; glitter - benee

lowercase intended!

you throw your head back when you forget the term written on the flip side of the flash card haiba lev is holding. it’s a friday night, far past anyone’s bedtimes, but final exams for the first semester start on monday and you’re not sure where to start. haiba lev, being the person who has nothing better to do, agreed to come over and flip cards with random kanji, english, and biology terms on it.

lev might also be here because it’s an open secret that he’s liked you since first year, and you’ve never answered to his feelings, but you’re thinking friends for now - until you memorise all of this semester’s kanji, english vocabulary, and biology terms, that is.

“the phospholipid bilayer is made up of...”

lev gives you time to think, his wide eyes going between the answer on the card and your thinking face.

“shit, uh, the phospholipid bilayer is made up of two layers of phospholipids?”

“makes sense, but no.” lev answers, flipping the card to show you.

“the phospholipid bilayer is made up of a polar, hydrophilic area containing a phosphate group bound to glycerol, and a non-polar, lipophilic area containing fatty acids...” you read aloud, trying to memorise what’s currently going out your mouth, in one ear, and out again through another ear.

“you know, your flash cards are pretty comprehensive.”

you raise an eyebrow, “is that... a good thing?”

“i mean, yes and no,” he takes another sip of the tea your mom had insisted to bring to guests, “it’s harder to memorise, but it’s better for details. but-”

“but?” you watch as he takes another sip. 

“i think if you really don’t know where to go, just understand the basic concept of everything. for one - what is the function of the bilayer?”

“why do you sound smart?” you question, tilting your head jokingly.

“hey! i am smart! most times! with tests like these that have essay questions, you just gotta learn the basic concept of each term and connect them.” lev advices, recounting his former volleyball captain and nekoma high school alumni, kuroo tetsuro’s, words when lev himself was barely scraping past his first semester finals when he’d just transferred.

“easier said than done in two nights,” you slouch your head on your desk, “plus! it’s not just biology. or exams.”

if memorising all these terms in the span of two days sounds bad enough, you’re still crushed with the supplementary course work and projects due next week as well. 

you let out a deep groan. you’re so tired. it’s like biology information only comes up when you’re studying for english, biology only coming up for modern literature, and mathematics somehow being inserted into the little unknown kanji in modern literature. it’s all too much at once.

“it’s all too much at once, huh?” lev places his head on your desk, only a few inches away from your face. normally, you’d push him away, pull your head back up, or maybe even give him a light slap on a bad day, but today you welcome him. 

you nod, quiet. you haven’t been able to get a breather. it’s essay this, quiz that, lab report here, test there. your mind is blank.

now, lev sits back up on the extra chair from your dining room, “have you eaten dinner?”

“why are you asking... it’s like, midnight.”

“the question still stands.”

you sigh, “nope.”

lev hums. he takes a pen, then twirls it, like his fingers possessed polar magnets that somehow let the pens never fall from his hands. but it does eventually, and when it falls with a plastic click on your wooden desk, lev visibly takes a big breath and says, “do you want to get ramen?”

you exhale through your nose and smile. “are you asking me out, haiba?”

“is it inappropriate to ask you out now?”

damn this tall dork. come to think of it, he’s never actually asked you out despite the obvious ways he’d vouch for your attention in the past. you’re quite surprised, frankly, as he’s always been so loud in the ways he’s wanted to be with you but never really made it seem like anything was going to happen. 

but, hey, it’s late enough for you to put down your doubts about him away. after all, he’s been in your room for four hours, just helping you study. he wasn’t even studying himself - he just sat there, doing almost nothing. and for a guy like him, you wonder how he’s managed to keep there for so long.

“sure.”

lev’s eyes widen. “wait, really?”

“yeah,” you begin to set aside all your study materials, “we can go to a twenty-four hour place in the city, too.”

“alright! let me get you your coat!”

“my coat?” you raise an eyebrow when he hands you the coat you wear the most, feeling both flattered and slightly surprised that he recognises it straight away from your messy room. the boy comes to retreat his coat as well from one of the hangers in your room, and he even offers to get you your socks and boots.

“alright, alright, you don’t have to be that ready to go,” you joke. 

he makes sure there is no noise when you two walk out of your house, through the suburbs of tokyo and to the nearest train to the city. 

“aren’t you two a bit young to be here so late?” the shopkeeper, an old lady, mutters under her breath. you catch it through her croaky voice when you and lev enter the place together, but you pay no attention because all you care to focus on is the smell of broth and your empty stomach.

“for two, please,” lev says, undoubtedly hearing the woman’s remark, but answering with a smile. she smiles too, and so do you, and it makes you remember all the times he’s smiled and you’ve wanted to either punch him or hold his hand. 

today just happens to be one of those days where you want to hold his hand. you shake the thought off.

when you two are seated at the ramen bar, your head falls onto your palm, tilting back to face lev, his chin covered partly by his usual maroon scarf. you had whispered to him earlier on the train what you wanted to order, and lev quickly speaks to the waiter as your tired gaze rises from from the squiggly wooden patterns embedded in the polished wooden table to the boy that’s sitting right next to you. 

at first glance, you remember haiba lev’s face to be satisfying to look at. you remember when he had just transferred to your class in the first year, and you developed the annoying habit of looking forty-five degrees to the right every time you were bored in class, as you thought his face was much easier on the eyes than complex quadratic equations or japanese history. 

for a while you wondered if it was because he certainly looked different - not only was he practically a giant, but he had eurocentric features that stood out from the majority of the student body as well (it also didn’t help that he quite literally and figuratively filled any room he was in). though, maybe, after a while, when everyone got used to the sight of a new face, you kept your line of sight at a forty-five degree angle, just peering above his cheekbones. the same way you’re looking at him right now.

and really, the only word for it is handsome. dashing. good-looking. you’ve always known that, but now that you put it into words in your head, you notice the chiseled jaw, pointed nose and emerald green eyes feel a bit more-

“what you staring at?” his baritone voice cuts through your thoughts cleanly.

you don’t like where this conversation will go. “haiba, are you doing any college entrance exams?”

lev cocks his head to one side, thinking, before nodding, “i think i am. why?”

“how are you studying for them?”

lev clicks his tongue, and it brings you to surprise, “get your mind away from studying! we’re not here in the city at, like, one in the morning to talk about college entrance exams!”

you sigh, “okay, fine. but, still, answer my question?”

“i just do practice problems for twenty minutes every day,” lev shrugs, “okay, now, can we move away from studying?”

you hum lazily, watching as two bowls of ramen arrive at the bar. he had ordered what you told him you wanted to order, both bowls almost identical in smell, shape, size, and content. almost, because lev didn’t have any spring onions in his bowl.

“haiba,” you call, earning a quick call of your name in response, “do you not like spring onions?”

lev nods so obviously that he seems proud. his chopsticks mix the entire bowl together before picking up the half-boiled egg and eating the slice whole. when he swallows it down, he asks you, “you noticed.”

“i mean, yeah,” you reply, “why do you not like them? they’re like, essential.”

lev takes a slurp of his noodles, and then a spoonful of the broth, “i just never liked their texture - which is funny, since my entire family loves adding spring onions.”

now it’s your turn to slurp into your ramen, one bite turning into two, and two turning into the entire content of the bowl. lev seems to eat twice as fast, seemingly having a strategy to cooling down the hot noodles on his spoon while simultaneously folding a piece of pork charsiu in between the loops of each spoonful of noodles, making sure that the little wrap is bathed in a little bit of broth. you find yourself smiling at his act, almost like he has a system of his own when it came to eating ramen - well, he usually had a system of his own when doing just about anything.

the meal is quiet for the most part, with little mumbles of how your tea needs a refill and the ruffling sounds between sheets of tissue to wipe off the broth around your lips. it’s fulfilling, and the look on lev’s face says he’s happy too.

when you two make it out of the ramen bar, 1am feels the same as 9pm. somehow, you’re no longer the kind of sleepy you were when you were flipping through flashcards on your desk, and instead, you’re almost dreading to go home. you think it might also be the neon lights, but there’s some kind of electricity you’re not yet willing to let rest for the night.

luckily, lev doesn’t feel the need to rush. although his steps are big and his voice is loud, he takes his time when you two make the silent agreement to make the walk to the train station as long-winded as possible. his voice is lower, and softer, this time, and when he speaks to you about his friends from his old school, you convince yourself it’s the most interesting topic in the world - because it is. because it’s lev.

when he stops in his tracks, you stop too, watching him go into a small trinket shop you’ve always seen but never had the means to afford to go in. you reckon you might own something from this store, though.

“haiba, you like little trinkets?” your eyes scroll through the shelves of delicate and virtually useless items, eyes landing on a small lion cub made of clear resin with a small blob of gold floating in the middle of its clear body. you’re not usually drawn to any animal trinkets, as you’ve gotten used to decorative objects like bows or feathers or lace, but today you think about the lion cub. despite it looking severely overpriced, you take it in your hand anyway, not noticing lev’s figure coming right behind you.

“do you want that one?” you yelp in surprise when he says that, turning around to find yourself so close to him you could smell the dried raindrops on his padded coat.

“i’m pretty sure it’s overpriced. trinkets are usually overpriced anyways.”

“wait, let me check it,” you hand lev the trinket, “how much is your keychain?”

you furrow your eyebrows, “what?”

“you know, the keychain on the bag you bring to school.”

“oh,” you try to remember the time you had saved up for that keychain, “i think it was about three thousand yen? it’s overpriced. definitely.”

“well, this one’s only two thousand and five hundred. i’ll get it for you.”

“wha- lev!” you whine, “you’re going to make me feel bad- wait what’s wrong?” you see the boy freeze up in front of you, a big smile creeping onto his cheeky face.

he doesn’t reply for a bit, and you’re faced with raised cheekbones and a wide mouth. you try again, “was it something i did? or said?”

“you called me lev,” oh, you did. 

now his smile spreads from ear to ear, and it’s spreading to you. “you never call me lev.”

“huh, well.” you bite the inside of your mouth, “i guess now i do.”

it’s enough for you to let him spend over two thousand yen on a single trinket. you watch as he waits for the trinket to be wrapped neatly in pretty paper and put in a pink cardboard bag, its motif pretty enough to be its own product in the store. 

you stand by the doorframe of the store, mouth ready to open with the words ‘i’ll pay you back’. but it seems like lev had heard you from the future, and before you could do anything, he tells you, “don’t pay me back. this is my gift to you.”

“for exams?”

he grins. “you know, lev means lion in russian.”

the bell of the store rings as you two make your way out, this time really going back to the station. you answer with a ‘really?’ at his fun fact but you keep it to yourself that you’ve known ever since he first transferred and everyone had asked him about it. 

“yeah, and the thing’s a lion cub, so, it’s like you have me all the time!” 

you giggle, walking up the steps to the train platform. “you’re really something, lev.”

lev stretches his arms out, with long limbs you swear ghost your shoulder. you get that feeling again, in your hands, where you just can’t seem to understand why you want to take his hand in yours so bad, so you ask the boy if you can hold onto the bag with your trinket. lev passes it to you, and you hate how you would’ve liked for your thumb to graze over his thumb for longer. you hate it even more when he motions you onto the train, and in a blur, you take his arm, leading him to corner seats on the train. you feel your face heat up. 

ah, so that’s how it is.

now you’re conflicted. not that lev had ever made you feel uncomfortable - no, never - but you had never known how to return his obvious feelings. he would act on them, as always, and one day, as you fell asleep one day after final semester exams in the second year, leaning back into the plastic seat of a suburban tokyo metro rail (which lev thought was very dangerous), lev had muttered in the quietest and most subtle manner, ‘what do i do with my feelings?’

then, in a haze, with eyes barely open, you had moved your head from your seat to his shoulder, painting his cheeks red - dumbstruck. he thought you forgot about it the next morning, and you barely remember, so nothing happened afterwards. yet, when you think of him, you think of hues of orange peeling the sky into purple; of freshly washed school uniforms; of heads leaning on shoulders and fingers intertwined. you don’t know how to answer him.

with lev, there is chatter and laughter and blunt remarks that almost get him slapped in the face. still, there is a box, bigger than the bag your trinket is in, that contains words that you don’t think you or lev have ever said in pure daylight and wake. 

“hey, lev?”

you want to open that box.

“yeah?”

but you don’t know how to do it yet.

“the phospholipid bilayer is made up of a polar, hydrophilic area containing a phosphate group bound to glycerol, and a non-polar, lipophilic area containing fatty acids.”

lev exclaims a series of ‘oooh!’s in delight. 

“was that correct?”

“um,” lev gulps, “i think so? i mean- i think so.”

but you will open it, sooner or later, and it rings in your head when you step off the train and walk into the neighbourhood. right now, nothing is different - the air is not heavier, his eyes do not sparkle like love interests do in the movies, and you do not look through a rose-coloured lens. monday is finals, and the weekend is studying. you tell yourself this.

lev stops at your doorstep, and you almost feel a sear in your chest at the thought of him leaving for the night. 

“so, good luck with next week, y/n.”

you nod, trinket bag in your hands, “you too, lev.”

you find that your arms are opening up, a small pout on your face as lev comes to wrap his arms around you, coats shuffling against each other as you hold each other at three in the morning. 

when you pull away from the hug, you start to ramble a bit, scrambling for new topics to bring up in hopes of just a few more seconds with him - that, and trying to stop yourself from your newfound want to cup this boy’s face in your hands and kiss him square on the lips. you wonder if he would be good at kissing, and you wonder how much you’ll regret having these thoughts tomorrow. 

but even conversation dies when you know it’s getting too cold, so you bid your sweet goodbyes and promise him not to overwork; he reminds you that it’s better to do short but frequent study sessions than fewer and highly intensive ones. you nod, your boots heavy on your doorstep, the hushed sound of keys in doors slowly becoming the only sound you hear as you assume lev’s left already.

until he calls your name.

your head spins fast towards the boy, watching as he makes long strides to stand at your doorway once again, scarf prodding the tip of his nose, so close to your face. he’s red.

“during exams, or tomorrow, or studying for entrance exams- if you ever get lost-” he pants, and unties his scarf from his neck.

“you’ll find me, okay?” the scarf comfortably hangs around your neck now, covering your mouth. he pats your head twice. it’s warm - literally. 

you barely get the chance to say anything before he darts out of your house with a quick goodbye. you’re left confused, flustered, and excited at once, and this time, you think you might have the words as to why. 

you like to imagine you taste sweetness, see eyes that sparkle, and feel butterflies in your stomach. 

“it might not be so bad,” you whisper, looking down at the pretty little bag containing one unnecessarily expensive item lev had bought you.

right; you have feelings for him too. 

then you make up your mind: you’ll tell him next friday. and if your finals stand between tonight and next friday, then, all the more motivation to get through them, right?

you make sure to set an alarm for seven in the morning, kanji textbooks lined up for tomorrow. 

[illfoandillfie]

Easy As A-B-C

Pairing: Professor!Gwilym Lee x Reader

Summery:  Professor Lee is getting sick of marking papers, you offer an alternative. One where he doesn't need to think at all.

Warnings: SMUT (18+), unprotected sex, bimbofication (without hypnosis), oral sex (m and f receiving), hand job, light dom/sub dynamic, dom!reader, sub!Gwil, overstimulation, maybe a little bit of hair pulling

Words: 4,537

A/N: This was massively massively inspired by my love @dracoladon​ and her Drarry fic Lucid (seriously, go read it because she’s a much better writer than me and also sex dumb Draco is hhhhhhh). Reading it made me want to write more himbo fics but without all the hypnosis stuff thats in my Future Management series. Then I got talking to @peachydeacon​ about himbo!Rog which led to talking about himbo!Gwil and this fic is the result of our discussion lmao. It was also partly inspired by a post on a porn blog that popped up on my dash but I can’t link to that because tumblrs dumb. 

Also, it is a professor gwil fic but set after reader has graduated so it’s all above board lmao

Blurb Advent: Day 24

Taglist:  @vee-ndetta @atomic-watermelon @kellypenac @labessieisallama​ @deakyclicks​ @jennyggggrrr​ @drowseoftaylor​ @hannafuckingsucks​ @i-cant-hangout-im-drumming​ @queenmylovely​ @ilovequeenmorethanyou​ @johndeaconshands​ @borhapbois​ @stardust-galaxies​ @cherries-n-rocknroll​ @rogersslave​ @scorpiogemini 

Gwilym looked unreasonably hot while he was grading papers, his brow knitted, wearing a look of serious concentration made all the more noticeable by the reading glasses sliding down his nose. His loose tie and the undone top buttons of his business shirt lent him a casually dishevelled air, and that wasn’t even mentioning the way he absentmindedly twisted his pen between his fingers as he read and reread sentences he was struggling to understand, occasionally pausing to underline something or write a note in the margins. It all painted a very sexy image, the kind of serious sexy only a professor could achieve, though this sexiness was nowhere near new. You’d found his manner oddly arousing even when he’d been your professor. Of course, that had been a few years ago and well before you’d had your chance encounter in the local second hand bookstore that led you to ask him out. He’d stuttered out something about never having even thought of you as more than his student and “really I feel almost as if I’ll get in trouble for the conversation as soon as I get back to campus.” But the awkwardness soon changed when you confessed to having had a minor crush on him back in the day and having since hoped to run into him. He seemed more open to the idea of dinner with you after that and, if you were being honest, more cocky too, but cocky in a decidedly dignified and charming way. Anyway, one thing led to another and now here you were somewhere close to a year and half later and you were struggling not to stare at Gwil as he graded papers and looked professor-ally disarrayed and hot.

You knew it was something to do with the Romantic era poets that the students had to write about because he’d read a question out to you earlier to get your opinion of if it was confusingly worded. “No, I don’t think so,” “Then why in god’s name do none of my students get it?” he looked about ready to hit his head against the desk until he passed out but he returned to the topmost paper with a sigh and ruffled hair from where he’d run his hand through it. That’s when you’d started trying not to stare. A tall order when all you could think about was dragging Gwil to the bedroom and ravishing him enough to make him forget all about John Keats and poetry and the English language itself. Not that that was exactly hard. No, Gwilym had a tendency to get a little dazed and confused when you really gave it to him. Sex drunk you’d decided to call it. A transformation that you quite delighted in witnessing and causing. Gwil was sharp as a tack usually, always ready with some obscure fact or quote from literature. It was part of what made him such a good teacher, his memory for all things bookish, as well as his approachable (if a little stern) demeanour and his determination to get the best from his students. But it wasn’t hard to shut down his brain, cloud his memory and entirely befuddle him. One time you’d snuck into the bathroom at the restaurant you’d gone to for dinner and poor Gwilym had become so spaced out he’d spilt half a glass of wine in his lap and then walked into the glass door as you left, even with you leading him by the hand. You supposed that what they said about great power and responsibility was true. All the same, it was a fun power to wield and you knew that, with the right sort of attention, you could have Gwilym babbling incomprehensible gibberish with no memory of what a poem even was, which was surely something he’d appreciate right about now.

You blinked yourself from your reverie as, finally, Gwil set his glasses aside and rose from his seat, groaning as he stretched out the stiffness in his back. He rolled his neck back and forth, your eyes following, before letting his shoulders drop and moving to sit next to you on the couch. “I can’t do it anymore, I can’t read another word about Byron or I’ll loose it.” He sighed, draping an arm around your shoulders and leaning into your neck. “Byron? I remember that assignment. Everyone hated you for it,” His breath was warm against your skin as he spoke, sending a tingle down your spine, “Well if this year’s lot is anything to go by, the feeling was probably mutual,” “Mmm, I remember one girl saying she was going to shove her copy of Don Juan up your arse if she didn’t pass,” He lifted his head again and laughed, “And yet my rectum remains Byron fee and no other injuries befell me, so either I taught you enough to get by or you were all a bunch of cowards,” “Bit of both probably. And why would this year’s be any different, huh?” “I don’t know, you haven’t read any of their attempts at cohesive analysis. Some of them are just throwing out terms like allusion and anapestic and personification all willy-nilly, clearly without properly understanding them. ” “I think you’re being too harsh on them. They’re first years after all and it’s not always easy to understand all that poncy poetical bullshit. Plus, you know it all already so of course everyone else seems stupid to you,” “Maybe,” he conceded, though it seemed to take some effort. “Honestly, someone should put you in their position, see how well you go with it,” “Yeah? And who would do something like that?” Gwilym laughed as you shifted to straddle his lap, accepting the kiss you offered, “You?” “Maybe I will. Spell personification for me,” “You know it’s not high school English, right. We don’t do pop quizzes on spelling and grammar.” “I know you don’t, but this is my subject and I’m testing spelling. Besides,” you let your hand drop between you, brushing lightly over the front of his pants, “I promise it’ll be fun.” Gwil gave a half-hearted eye roll, “P-E-R-S-O-N-I-F-I-C-A-T-I-O-N, personification. D’you want me to use it in a sentence too?” You knew he’d get it right. Gwil always had been good at spelling off the top of his head which you supposed was a side effect of all his reading and the years devoted to the written word. But it was still a little annoying. Mostly because he was being a bit of a tool about the whole thing, but it didn’t help that you’d grown quite wet thinking about how you’d like to have him, like to turn him into the fucked out airhead you’d seen before. You shook your head and tutted at him as if he got it wrong. “No, that’s definitely it. I’ve just read it about a hundred times, I know I’m right. P-E-R-S-O-N-I-F-I-C-A-T-I-O-N,” he spelt it faster that time, trying to prove that you were wrong. “Try allusion for me,” “A-L-L-U-S-I-O-N,” Right again. You sighed as if you were disappointed. Gwilym raised his eyebrows but said nothing. “What about caesura?” “C-E-A-S-U-R-A,” The mistake was an easy one to make, two letters flipped around the wrong way, and you could tell he knew it was wrong as soon as he’d said it. He was surprised when you leant forward to kiss him again, cupping his jaw with one hand as you dropped the other and slowly pulled down the zip on his work pants. “But I fucked up,” he said softly, eyes still closed as you pulled away a few centimetres. You just smiled as you thought of a new word, “Anapestic,” It was another word Gwil had mentioned as seeing in his student’s essays so you knew it would be fresh in his mind and he proved as much when he spelt it, “A-N-A-P-E-S-T-I-C,” He was right of course, so you tutted and pulled your hand away from his crotch, grabbing his chin with your other and forcing him to look at you, “You can do better than that.” His features shifted at the sudden loss of contact, the look of concentration returned once more. If anything, your much closer proximity to the expression made him seem all the more hot but you resisted the urge to give in and drag him to the bedroom, curious if he’d catch onto your little game now and, equally so, to see if he’d play along, “Try Onomatopoeia.” A longer word gave him more chances to get things wrong but would his pride and his brain allow that? Apparently so. “O-N-O-M-” Gwil paused and thought for a second, his eyes narrowed as his looked at you, “O-N-O-M-A-T-O-P-I-A,” the last three letters were said with such deliberate diction that you knew he’d figured it out. “Good boy,” you said, letting your hands slip inside his undone pants to massage his dick. His hips jolted at the contact and he let his hands fall to your arse, squeezing. “What about, dactyl?” His reply was instant, unthinking, and totally correct, “D-A-C-T-Y-L,” You clicked your tongue condescendingly as you once again removed your hands from him. “Fuck,” “Well that’s what happens when you get things wrong, honey, and such an easy one too,” “I didn’t get it wro- fine, give me another,” You smiled, unable to hide how delighted you were that he was interested in following your rules, even if it was just his competitive streak rearing its head to show that he could out smart you, “Assonance,” Gwilym spelt the word slowly and carefully, making sure to only say one ‘s’ and to leave off the ‘e’. And you made sure to reward him for it, shuffling backwards on his lap so you could shimmy his pants down his thighs and wrap your hand around his cock. He raised an eyebrow at you but otherwise made no comment as he leant back in his seat to enjoy the attention. “Romanticism,” Once again Gwilym was careful with his spelling, intentionally replacing the ‘c’ with a double ‘s’ but that was the kind of behaviour you wanted to encourage so you kept stroking him off, twisting your wrist, dragging your thumb over his flushed tip. It must have felt good with the way he was sighing, shifting his shoulders as if to move his whole body closer to yours. “So clever baby, what about,” you paused, dredging up memories of poetry analysis and the words you used to have burned into your brain but which you’d not had much use for recently, “Enjambment” “Ummm, E-N,” Gwil hummed as you leant over him and let a trail of spit drip onto his cock, using your hand to spread it over his length, “Enjamb-ment, uh, E-N-J-A- no E, no A, M-E-N-T,” You leant into his ear and spoke softly, “That’s right, being so good for me, so clever. What should I do next though? Ride you? Or maybe suck you off? Or just keep doing this?” “Uh,” Gwilym shook his head a little as if to clear it, “mouth? Please?” “Of course, baby. If you can spell dissonance for me.” You were quietly confident that he’d get the spelling wrong, already noticing the first sign of his impending brainlessness, extra filler words where he’d normally not need them. It was funny though, usually he wouldn’t reach that stage until he was much closer to nutting. “D-I-S” he rushed through the first three letters and then stopped, biting his lip, “T-um, A-N-E-N-C-E.” You were sure the errors in that word were less intentional than the previous few and, as promised, slipped off his lap and settled yourself between his legs, pulling his pants off so he could spread them wider for you. You held eye contact as you let your tongue trail along the underside of his cock, tracing along a vein, though you couldn’t help but smile as he groaned above you. “Can you spell Decasyllable for me?” you asked before closing your lips around the head of his cock. “What? Oh, um, D-E-C-K- fuck,” he broke off as you swirled your tongue around his tip. “Fuck’s not a letter, baby,” you sank down on him again, bobbing a little lower. “I know, um, Deck-syllable, D-E-C-K-A-S-Y-B-L-E, I think. Is that right?” In answer you hummed and took him a little deeper, pushing his shirt up towards his chest. Gwilym took the hint and pulled it off before he grabbed your hair, leaning his head against the back of the couch. For a moment you just focused on sucking him off, listening to his shallow breathing and whiny groans. But you weren’t finished with your game yet.

“Epigraph?” you asked before bobbing down on him again, pushing yourself to take him deeper still. Gwilym remained silent as you gagged and pulled back from him again to breath freely. “Well?” “What did you say?” “Epigraph. Can you spell that?” He nodded as you resumed your bobbing, his hand grabbing at your hair, “E-P-P-E-G-R-A-F-F.” You hummed around him and his hips bucked up, pushing him further down your throat for a second. “No, don’t stop,” he whined under his breath as once again you let him fall from between your lips. “Sorry baby,” you wrapped your hand around his base and switched back to jerking him off, “you’re so hard though and I know you want to earn your orgasm like a good boy,” Gwilym nodded. “Okay, so spell meter,” “M- oh, I don’t know,” “You do know, baby, you just gotta try. Meter,” He scrunched his face up in thought, “M-E-E-T-R,” “See, I said you knew it, and you did it so well!” Gwilym gave you a dopey smile, looking proud at your praise, “I did?” His mouth dropped open with the movement of your hand. “Of course baby! You got it completely right because you’re so clever. What about sonnet, do you think you can do that one for me?” He nodded enthusiastically, “S-N-E-T,” “Very good! Okay, three more and I’ll let you cum,” “Okay!” “Okay, what about,” you thought for a moment, watching your hand pumping over his shaft as you trailed your fingernails lightly over his thigh, “Spell rhyme,” “Ummm,” Gwilym bit his lip in thought, soft grunting noises rising in his throat in time with your strokes. “It’s a bit of a tricky one,” “Yeah.” “And it’s hard to concentrate isn’t it?” “Mmhmm, so hard to con-ten-tate,” he thought for a little longer as you slowed your hand, “rrr- R-I-M,” “So clever baby! Okay canto,” “Oh! Ummm,” Gwilym pouted and whined as you unexpectedly drew the tip of your tongue around his head, “I don’ know,” “No?” He shook his head, eyebrows furrowed. “Okay what about, poem?” Gwilym seemed to have reached the last dregs of his knowledge, grunting in frustration as he shook his head again.” “You sure you don’t know?” He bucked his hips up into your hand as he shook his head again. “Alright, I’ll give you an easy one then. Spell your name for me, spell Gwilym,” Gwil’s eyes lit up at the suggestion but his face quickly slipped into a frown again, the expression getting more pronounced with every passing second he didn’t say anything. He sought out your face, his eyes brimming with frustrated tears, “I don’t…” his fists balled up as he looked to you for help. “You don’t remember?” He shook his head once more, a tear shaking loose and rolling down his cheek, “you said it was easy.” “It’s okay if you don’t know,” “Really?” he sniffled. “Of course it’s okay. You’re not supposed to know things.” “I’m not?” “Awww, of course not baby. That’s why I’m here, to know things, and you’re just here to make me happy.” Gwilym sighed and leaned back against the couch, smiling again. “Do you want to give it a try for me?” “Umm,” he whined as you slowed your strokes “It would make me very happy,” “Okay, umm…G? L? ummmm, M?” “You’re so clever, baby!” Gwilym giggled proudly and grinned at you as you adjusted your grip on his cock. “You’re my good, smart boy, aren’t you baby?” “Mmhmm,” he bucked his hips towards you as you took him into your mouth again. “Feels go-od,” he mumbled, almost panting with how close he was. You dragged the hand that rested on his thigh up to cup his balls as you sucked on his tip until he moaned and came, spilling his seed over your tongue.

You kept working your hand along his length, even after you’d pulled your mouth from him. “Was that a good orgasm baby? Did it make you feel good?” He nodded, pouting a little as you kept wanking him, “good oggsam,” It took all your effort not to laugh at that, biting on the inside of your cheek to keep from letting so much as a chuckle slip. Very few things delighted you as much as when Gwil forgot how to talk properly. “You know,” you said as you finally let his cock free, “sometimes when people have orgasms they feel euphoric. Do you feel euphoric?” “Mmhmm, you-porik.” “Clever boy. Do you want to help me feel euphoric?” “How?” “With your mouth,” “Oh! Okay!” You braced yourself against his knees as you stood, leaning forward to give Gwil a small kiss on the lips. He closed his eyes and smiled up at you contentedly as you shimmied out of your own clothes, dropping them all to the floor. “You going to let me lie down?” you asked, tapping Gwil on the shoulder. He looked around confusedly for a moment before his eyes settled on you, growing wider as he realised how naked you were. Without warning he surged forward, his hands grabbing your arse as he nuzzled his face in the valley between your breasts. If it were up to Gwil he would have stayed there all day but you had need for him elsewhere so you yanked his head back by his hair, earning a small noise of displeasure. “Don’t complain, baby. You want to make me feel euphoric, right?” “Mmhmm,” he hummed earnestly. “And how do you think you could do that?” “I don��t know,” “Maybe, cunnilingus?” “cun-un-un-un-gus,” “Exactly,” you directed his gaze down to your pussy, failing to hide your amused grin. But he was too far gone to notice, happily slipping to his knees in front of you. Telling him to wait for a second, you climbed onto the couch and spread your legs, beckoning him between them once you were comfortable.

He hadn’t been able to say the word but that didn’t mean he wasn’t skilled at the act. A string of soft hums and throaty sounds rose to your lips as he licked your cunt, the scratchy sensation of his beard only amplifying the soft, wet, warmth of his tongue.   “Can you, oh, can you spell poem for me baby?” Gwilym hummed and then started naming letters, his mouth still pressed against your cunt as if he didn’t realise he couldn’t talk and suck at the same time. You didn’t bother to stop him when he said too many letters or correct him when all of them were wrong. You just let his breath wash over you, his tongue flicking against your clit with each new letter, eliciting longer moans and sighs from you. “Fuck Gwil,” you panted, “keep going,” “Keep going,” he repeated, his voice muffled as he dragged his tongue all the way down your slit and then back up again, making you whine. You jolted when he reached your clit again and pressed against his head, keeping him close to you, your other hand trailing up your chest to tweak your nipples and knead your breasts. Occasionally you’d give him an instruction – “faster please,” or “do that again,” or “fuck Gwil, right there,” – and he’d repeat the words back to you, softened and often a little slurred together or mispronounced, before doing as he was asked, drawing you closer to release. He was pleased whenever another groan or mewl slipped from your lips, responding to them with sounds of his own as if he were savouring a particularly delicious meal. It seemed he’d taken what you’d said about making you happy to heart, though some of his whines might have had more to do with his cock, hard again and straining to be touched as his attention remained focused on you. “I’m c-lose ba-by,” you grunted as Gwilym pressed his mouth to your lower lips, as if to give you a soft chaste kiss, only to begin shaking his head side to side, rubbing his face against your cunt. “loase,” he muttered to himself, trailing his tongue back up to your clit, making you grind your hips up into him. It was impossible to keep your mouth shut in the face of such a feeling, wantonly moaning as you felt your orgasm bubbling to the surface. Gwilym hummed against you in response to a particularly loud moan which managed to be your undoing, your knees trying to clamp shut around his head as he continued to suck at your clit.

When you calmed enough to let go of his hair and loosen your thighs from around his ears, Gwilym looked up at you. His face was shiny and wet but he seemed to have regained some of his usual awareness. His eyes weren’t quite as vacant and his smile less dopey than it had been. “Feel good?” he asked, sounding almost normal except for a slight lightness in his tone. “Very good baby,” you leaned forward and kissed him full on the lips, tasting yourself as he opened his mouth and accepted your tongue. Slowly you dropped your hand between you, finding his cock again, not quite done with your brainless toy. He grunted against your lips and bucked into your hand as you stopped his return to sense. “Isn’t this fun?” you said softly as you pulled back, holding Gwil by the chin to stop him from trying to follow. “Yeah, fun,” a smile slowly tugging at his lips, “what is?” “Not needing to think, baby,” “Oh! Yes,” he laughed. “You’re too pretty to have a brain anyway, aren’t you? Much better off letting it leak out of your head,” “Mmhmm, much,” “And do you know what good, dumb boys get?” “No?” “They get fucked. Would you like that?” “Yes yes yes,” “Alright, lie back for me,” you chuckled, giving his cock a final stroke. Gwilym settled on the carpet on his back, grinning as you straddled his lap. Silently he held out his hand, all but two of his fingers folded against his palm. “No, I don’t need your fingers sweetie,” you said, giving the tips of his two fingers a light kiss, “as dextrous as they are and as much as I enjoy them, I think I’m okay skipping straight to your cock,” He nodded, letting you place his hand down on the floor again. You watched his face as you slowly sank down onto him, once again the picture of cunt drunk bliss with glazed eyes and his lip between his teeth. He smiled as you leaned down to kiss him, rolling your hips against his slowly. As you tongues entwined again, Gwilym framed your waist with his hands, slowly dragging them up your sides and onto your chest. He cupped each of your breasts in one of his palms, squeezing softly as you rocked forward and back. “Better than Byron isn’t this?” you asked, pushing yourself up a bit, but not so far you couldn’t kiss him again. “Wha’s Byron?” You laughed, “Y’know I think this might be the dumbest I’ve seen you. Can’t believe all it took was a rigged spelling test. He obviously didn’t understand, staring blankly back at you.

What he did understand was that you were moving further away from him and he whined as you pushed yourself to sit higher again, bracing your hands on his chest as you used your knees to raise and lower yourself. It still wasn’t enough though so you shifted again before too long, placing a hand behind you to grab Gwil’s leg. You leant back on it changing the angle of Gwilym’s cock, and felt his hands drop from your chest, no longer able to reach as easily. They came to rest on your leg, his fingertips digging into your skin as you rode him, keening as you felt the start of your orgasm building in the pit of your stomach. “Fuck Gwil, fill me so well, feels so good,” “My dex-ik-tus cock?” You couldn’t help but laugh, taken by surprise at his misunderstanding and mispronunciation of dextrous, but you nodded in agreement too, repeating your sentiments about how good it felt. “Wanna make me feel even better?” “How?” You sat forward again and reached for his hand, pulling it to your clit. Gwilym took the hint, messily rubbing as you bounced on his cock, but his whines and moans only grew as you rode him. “You’re close?” “Mmhmm,” You were on the verge of asking if he could hold it when he came with a groan, pulsing inside you. But you didn’t stop. “I’m close too, baby, so I’m gonna keep fucking you, okay?” He nodded, eyes fixed on you. “Good boy.” You panted, grabbing his wrist to hold his hand at your clit and adjusting your rhythm. Each time you sank back down onto him you did it harder, slamming his cock into you as deep as you could manage, groaning with each one. Your orgasm was frustratingly close but Gwilym was becoming steadily more sensitive as his subsided, wincing more with each of your thrusts. The winces turned to whimpers which turned to whines as you whispered that you were so close. “Almost baby, almost,” “Please. Hur’s,” “Nearly, just. One. More,” you threw your head back with a moan as you finally found your release, Gwil whining when you pulsed around him, a fresh tear running from the corner of his eye onto the carpet as he squirmed under you.

“Sorry, baby,” you said softly as you carefully dismounted him. He hummed as you kissed him again, leaving an extra kiss against the tip of his nose. “Did so well, such a good boy for me,” “Yeah?” “Mmhmm, so good,” He gave you a slightly watery smile and let you pull him into a cuddle, sighing contentedly when you brushed your fingers through his hair. You stayed like that for a while, knowing that later you’d regret lying on the floor for so long but unable to find the energy to move or the willpower to tell Gwilym you had to let him go. He gradually lost the fucked out expression, becoming more aware of his surroundings and more capable of clear speech. “How are you feeling?” you asked when you realised he’d blinked away the last of his sex drunk vacancy. “Better than before. Little tired but much more relaxed and very satisfied. And, before you ask, yes that’s satisfied and yes I can spell it if you want,” “I believe you.”

[etherealluminescence]

Shdjdjjddjjs okay but, more buff cat hcs when ?? But seriously, i know it probably counts as crack hc but i enjoyed it way to much i cant get it out of my head anymore, i havent laught so much in a while now sjdjchdj. I sure hope the buff cat saga will continue !!

You know what? I’ll give you some buff cat content now. 😤 my school work can wait. And trust me, the buff cat saga WILL continue. I just tend to work on requests first rather than my own wants haha.

I’m really happy you like buff cat! Buff cat is my life now. Constantly haunted by buff cat. Maybe one day I’ll introduce a girlfriend or friends for buff cat too 🤔

Maybe I’ll do a background about buff cat and how they met MC?? And why buff cat is so attached to MC? I don’t know. 👉👈 maybe if someone requests, otherwise I’ll just do whatever I feel like in the moment.

Anyone can also feel free to request any buff cat scenarios!! If not I’ll think of some up. THIS IS SO LONG IM SORRY. I WROTE THIS LIKE 1 HOUR OR SOMETHING STRAIGHT AHA.

The boys react to buff cat teaching you

Lucifer

Lucifer had noticed your grades were improving recently, and wanted to take you out to eat for working so hard to both keep up with your class.

When he came to your room, he saw a scene that honestly shouldn’t of surprised him, but did anyways.

You were sitting at your desk, books sprawled across the entire surface area of it. On top of a book pile was buff cat, wearing a pair of glasses, and he was using a pointer to show you important parts you should remember.

He watched in awe as you two never exchanged any words, but you were scribbling down definitions and important notes, while buff cat turned the pages and reviewed your work.

He’s gotten fairly use to buff cat cooking, cleaning, intimidating others, but he has never seen buff cat act like a teacher before, it was sort of new, and he even had a teacher outfit.

He swears that he never sees you buying these outfits, or that people in the devildom actually sell muscular cat clothing.

Buff Cat is the first to break the silence, looking over at Lucifer and positioning his pointer at Lucifer’s head, and then to in front of your desk.

You were still focused on your studying, knowing that you were steadily improving. Buff Cat got out a notepad from one of your desk drawers, and wrote “Leave what you require on this note, I am instructing MC right now, and when we are done tutoring I will give this note to them.”

Lucifer ended up having to take a rain check on taking you out to eat, and learned that your cat has really advanced vocabulary.

Mammon

He was failing the majority of his classes, and ended up asking you for help. You were his best shot, and you seemed to be passing all of your classes with flying colours.

You said you were happy to help him! Except that someone else was actually helping you study. They were a very efficient teacher.

He was relieved to hear that you’d introduce your teacher to him, until he found out it was that fucking demon spawn from hell.

He screeched so hard and ran out of the room, crying like a girl. “aAAAAaaaaAAAH”

Mammon is terrified of buff cat, and now you’re telling him this cat has the intelligence of a genius? You came to the devildom like a few months ago how is this cat tutoring you and making you pass your classes with ease??

He swears your cat is trying to plot for world domination or something. Will NEVER ask you to study with him again.

Leviathan

You walked into Levi’s room trying to find buff cat. It was a Sunday, which was typically a boys night out between them, but it was getting pretty late and you need to study.

There was a test tomorrow on devildom history, and you wanted to review one more time with buff cat, as to make sure you’ll do well on it.

“Mr. Kitty, are you here?” You called out, as soon as you said that Buff Cat paused the game and ran up to you. Levi was slightly annoyed as Buff Cat was beating a hard level for him, but he is your cat above all else.

You smiled as Buff Cat greeted you, and apologised for interrupting them. You explained to Levi how you wanted to review for the test, and if it wasn’t an issue could he spare around 20 minutes?

Levi huffed and agreed and called you a normie, and was about to pick up his switch when your words finally set in.

You put down the book you were carrying and got out a pencil, and took a piece of paper out of the book. You began writing down all of the important stuff on the paper while Buff Cat watched over your shoulder.

When you were finished, he went into the book with you and showed you a couple things you’ve missed or had forgotten, and then got you to write it down three times each as to remember. He even wrote a few essay questions for you which you got.

Levi was impressed. Not only did Buff Cat seem to know the whole devildom history by heart, he knew the exact pages and lines, and even how to write.

He didn’t really care as long as Buff Cat beats the hard level for him. He just considers it to be cool.

Satan

Satan was impressed with your high grades. It must be hard for a human to suddenly learn about a whole new realm, right? So if you had Cs he would understand, but you were getting 97s and 94s.

He understood everything when he started to notice what kind of books Buff Cat had been reading in his room, recently.

You all were having a test on curses soon, and Buff Cat came by his room and began looking for books about curses, and similar ones to what you all had been learning about.

Satan ended up chuckling to himself and found it amusing. It was amazing how your cat even spent his free time coming to someone’s room, finding books for your tests, and reads them before going back to you to help you understand the content.

He likes to get coffee with Buff Cat and talk about the stuff you’re learning in classes, he never directly said it to you, but he helps Buff Cat find specific books when Buff Cat comes over.

Asmodeous

Lucifer decided to punish the house of lamentations by taking away all of their electronics after they did something stupid again. The only way to earn it back, was through getting an 80% or higher on their next test.

You and Asmo suffered because you would normally look up answer during your test, and Asmo had no social media or contact with any of his friends with benefits.

You two weren’t ashamed to beg Buff Cat for help to pass your next test. He was probably the smartest in the house. He goes to Satan’s room almost every day and purchased books when he goes out. Your cat even tutored you when you were in elementary school.

You and Asmo barely needed to convince Buff Cat, as he was ecstatic to help you again. He’d do anything to help you, and was even willing to help Asmo out as well.

Asmo thought that Buff Cat looked REALLY adorable in his teacher’s outfit. A suit, tie, glasses, and his claws were so shiny from their manicure earlier.

Buff cat even slicked his fur back to look like he gel’d his hair. He was a literal fashion icon. Asmo could do some sewing, but nothing to the degree Buff Cat did.

Buff Cat had so many outfits he made himself, and he even did them so quickly. They all turned out perfect. Oh right, this was about studying wasn’t it?

Asmo never really asked questions about why your cat could just be so smart, and more so focused on how cool your cat looked. Priorities.

Beelzebub

Beel and Buff Cat are gym buddies, so naturally they’d walk home together from the gym. Everything was fine until Buff Cat’s MC senses were tingling, and began to walk towards you, crouching down in a store trying to figure out which notebooks to buy.

Beel thought it was pretty cool Buff Cat knew where you were, like how he and Belphie were that close to each other.

Brel asked you what you were doing, and you explained that you wanted to get some new notebooks because your old one is messy and confusing. You just scribbled whatever you could down, and were having a bit of a hard time in class.

Buff Cat immediately perked up, and you two seemed to have a conversation. He meowed and you happily said “I’d love that!”

Apparently, Buff Cat had offered to tutor you. Beel wasn’t so sure how well your cat could teach, though, considering he still is a cat, and offered to help you as well, since he wouldn’t like to see you sad from overworking yourself.

He was scribbling notes alongside with you five minutes into your first session together. Buff Cat wrote such simple explanations, and even prepared notecards ahead of time, Beel forgot he was supposed to teach you.

He is pretty fine with Buff Cat teaching you both, and once again forgets that Buff Cat is a “normal”? cat and not some weird creature that knows the answer to life.

Belphegor

Is really fucking terrified of your buff cat. Like TERRIFIED. So when he sees your cat in a teacher’s outfit sitting at the dinning room table, teaching you math, he was frozen.

He came down to get a glass of milk but what is this. Do you- do you have to do it in the living room?

There is no other reaction than physical fear coursing through his body his adrenaline is at the highest and his fight or flight instincts kick in.

He’s already fought once and that caused Buff Cat to exist in constant Buff form around him, so you can bet he is running.

Probably has a group chat with Mammon and Luke. “Buff Cat Conspiracy”. They talk about how scary buff cat is.

Diavolo

Buff Cat told Diavolo he was the one who helped you study. They were having conversation (buff cat used a notebook) and the topic of your studies came up. He mentioned how he had been helping you study, and understand the terminology in the Devildom better.

He was happy to hear that you understood it, and that it wasn’t too complicated for either of you too.

He actually asks if he can watch your study sessions, to see if he needs to lighten your workload just in case you’re pushing yourself too much.

You two allow him to watch, and he’s giving soft claps and smiles as the two of you give it your best.

Is honestly very happy with how much you two get along, and how you say it’s very simple since Buff Cat explains(meows) it in a very efficient manner.

He already knew Buff Cat was smart, but haha. Maybe he should hire Buff Cat to be a teacher or support class teacher for RAD?

Barbatos

You had grown accustomed to the devildom these past few months, and with Buff Cat with you, you were allowed to freely explore it when you want.

Buff Cat also happens to have a spare key to open the castle when he wishes.

Exam/testing season was coming up, and you knew you couldn’t study at the house of lamentation.

It was very distracting, and so you decided to go to the castle. No one will be screaming there, or trying to convince you your cat is a weird entity trying to plot world domination.

Barbatos was sort of used to seeing Buff Cat come and go as he pleases, but why were you here? Before he could say anything, you told him that you were visiting to study! And that you hope he didn’t mind that Buff Cat was going to tutor you.

Alright, so you’re studying, but why at the castle? You had to explain that it was very distracting at the house of lamentations, and Mammon was trying to convince you to get rid of your cat 24/7.

Ah, he could see that. Your cat isn’t exactly normal, and Mammon does occasionally scream like a girl. I promise I love Mammon. But it’s not like he minded, so long as you two were quiet and actually studied.

He left to clean for a bit, and when he returned to the guest room he saw you wearing a headband, violently writing down and muttering definitions at an insane pace. Buff Cat was in a teacher’s outfit, and holding out flash cards.

He’s slightly taken aback, but doesn’t show it anywhere on his face. He has never seen you so serious before, and neither has he seen Buff Cat so focused on you, as well.

He’s quite proud of you two for your hard work and dedication. He doesn’t interrupt but instead pours you three cups of tea, Buff Cat thanks him, and watches over you two.

Solomon

Solomon invited you over for a study session. He may be a little shady, but he does care for you, as a fellow human.

He was ecstatic to see Buff Cat come with you, because he still wants to dissect your cat.

He was about to talk to you about letting him research you cat, but you made yourself comfortable on his bed, and Buff Cat began to put on glasses and take out a pointer.

He didn’t have anytime to talk beforehand, as you were highlighting certain areas of your book, your cat pointing to certain parts, and you patted the bed beside you for Solomon to join.

Solomon’s plans to dissect your cat are set back another day, but he takes great interest in the way he teaches. Your cat is very methodical about how to remember things, and explains(meows) it rather simply.

He swears that your cat is not a normal human cat, but why can he sense literally zero magic power from it? If only Buff Cat could teach him that.

Solomon also gets 100% on the next test by remembering everything the way Buff Cat had taught you two.

Simeon

Absolutely chaotic man, when he sees you and Buff Cat in a classroom when school was over, he approached you two, and said hello.

You greeted him, and so did Buff Cat. He asked what you were doing after school so late, and that it was dangerous for the two of you. Buff Cat not so much but could still be in danger.

You told him you were studying for the upcoming test, and that Buff Cat was helping you.

Simeon was like!!! 💖👉👈💖💖💖💖🥰🥰🥺🥺 could I join?? This sounds so fun!! Buff Cat is so smart!!

He does not question the fact he’s studying with a cat, learning from a cat, or just how nice your cat can write on paper, like perfect handwriting.

He has such chaotic energy that he’s just like you, what a cute cat!

Luke

no.

just no.

he’s fine with your cat but does your cat have to be in buff form when you’re being taught?

he is happy you are getting good grades but please get him away from buff form buff cat.

[thermaflute]

Hitoshi Shinsou x Reader

a/n: As promised, I finished that damn essay so here’s some smut. I whipped it up pretty quickly but yeah, need me this energy rn 😳.

Summary: It’s been a long time since you’ve two have had a proper night together. It’s starting to get on your nerves...

Warning: Angst (and comfort lol), cussing, 18+ activities, all characters are in their 20′s 

Word Count: 2.5

You eyed yourself in your mirror after applying lip gloss, it’s been about 30 minutes since he said he’d be here. You’ve been adjusting yourself in this tiny mirror for hours, feeling your heart fill and deflating with every car you think is his but isn’t. Your chest seemed to slouch uncomfortably in your outfit, you sighed and went fixing it so they appeared decent. You gave yourself one final smile and decided you didn’t want to wait outside anymore.

“Yes, I’m under Ms. L/N.” The host smiles at you and leads you across the restaurant. The restaurant was a comfortable cold, lit by warm lamps and blue lighting. Definitely felt too fancy but you wanted to give it a chance. Your host smiles again and places the menus down on the table. It was covered in a white cloth, multiple cutlery, and 4 different glasses. As someone who’s used to wobbly folding tables and the harsh scratched up wood in bars, this was very different for you. 

The sun was setting over the buildings and it just seemed so romantic. You made a mental note to take a photo together when Shinsou arrives.

Your waiter approaches the table with bread and some kind of oil before filling 2 of the 4 glasses with water. “Hello, is there anything we could start you off with this evening or are you waiting for a guest.”

You smile sheepishly at the waiter, “I’m waiting, but I would actually like to order some wine, I don’t know any brand names though so give me whatever you think tastes the best.” 

“Sure! I’ll be right back out with that.”

You pulled out your phone, hoping to get a text that he was on his way or approaching but it was still nothing. The waiter returned with the bottle and filled your glass, the other glass remained empty. You slowly watched lights flicker on, continuing off where the sun left off about an hour ago. 

You honestly should’ve left hours ago but you didn’t want to face the embarrassment of leaving alone, but at this point you think the waiter feels the embarrassment for you. You take another look at the city at night, deciding it was time to join everyone else in going to bed. The second your legs lifted up you feel a hand shove you down, you look up confused for your eyes to meet with two purple ones. Your look of confusion turns into a frown. “I’m kind of tired Toshi, I’d like to leave.” 

“I’m sorry kitten, there was a crime spree tonight and they really needed my help. It’s been terrible. But I know you’ve been waiting for long, please don’t go. He watches you struggle with your emotions before sighing and putting your bag back on the table. He takes his own seat and sits across from you. “I haven’t been at home lately-”

“You got that right.” You weren’t trying to be pissy, it was just weeks of getting put on the back burner that seemed to be pouring out of you now. “I’m sorry Hitoshi, I just, really wish you were around more. I know being a hero is important to you, so it’s important to me too. I just- I just want to see you more often, and on time, that’s all.”

He stays silent for a moment, trying to figure out what to say. He really hasn’t seen you as much as he’d like to, oftentimes he came home and you were already asleep. He wanted a warm meal with his baby, not leftovers in the fridge and your sleeping back to him. “I will take some days off, and we can do absolutely nothing for a few days, just the two of us.” 

He looks at your disgruntled face turn into a small smile, “Really? That sounds great, maybe we can have a picnic. We haven’t had one of those since High school?”

“Has it really been that long?”

“Well, depends on if you count that time we broke down and ate that sandwich outside as a picnic.” You both laugh at that, the air seemed to clear and you two ordered for real this time. 

Dinner was saved, and you had a great time, both of you seeming to forget that you were at a fancy restaurant and talking about nonsense until they closed. 

You got into his car and settled into the passenger seat, ready to get home and just cuddle with your boyfriend. A call rings down his cell and he answers it with urgency. “Yes? Oh.”

You look at him quizzatively, and he looks at you knowing fully that you’re about to get mad.

“Yes. I’ll be there soon.” 

“Hitoshi! Where are you going?!”

“I know I just apologized about this but, I have to go to work again. There’s a raid operation tonight and I’m the only person that can get it done.”

“Bullshit.”

“You can get upset about it as much as you want but It’s important for me to be there.”

He closed the door to his shared apartment quietly, he didn’t want to disturb your sleep. Two cats ran through his legs, they also missed seeing him around. “Ah, I’ve been neglecting everyone huh?” The two cats purred and chirped as he pet them, not knowing a thing about relationship problems.

_____

He opened the door to the bedroom slowly, he heard your earbuds blaring music. You were definitely awake and just being sad. He left you alone and showered, not wanting to track rubble and ash everywhere. 

“I don’t care man, just drop me off.” He rolled his eyes at your attitude and drove off into the night. The two of you pulled up to the apartment and you left without even saying goodbye, he saw the tears in your eyes as you walked into the building. He sat there momentarily, wondering if he should chase after you but he realized you wouldn’t listen and left it alone. 

You heard the shower turn off through your music and waited for your love to wrap his arms around you. The touch never came, instead you heard him exit the room entirely with his own set of blankets, cueing you to run out to him. “So you want to sleep alone?” You looked at him with pure exhaustion in your eyes, you were waiting for him to come home.

“No, I just didn’t know if you were still upset and wanted to give you some space.” 

“The last thing I want from you is some space. I just want you, but it feels like you don’t want me.”

He looks at you hurt that you’d even say that. “Hey you know that's not true, don’t tell me that.”

“Don’t tell me I’m lying when I know I’m not.”

“You don’t sound like you know anything right now.”

You looked infuriated, “Okay, cool. Keep the bed, I’m staying with a friend tonight.” 

“No you’re not Y/n,” he grabs your wrist and stares at you intensely. 

“Yes I fucking am, let me go.” You pull from his grasp.

“Are you done acting like a bitch?”

“Actually, I’m no-” You feel yourself slacken and stop. Your brain makes the motions to move but your limbs would not respond, he was definitely using his quirk on you. 

He grabs your arms firmly and stares at you, clearly pissed as well. “Good, now that you’re done being a brat. I love you, and I know I haven’t been around enough to say it but don’t just assume I don’t want you.” You said nothing of course, but god did you feel his deep voice. “Walk to the room.” 

You follow his command and walk in, he lets his control of you go and you look at him, a mixture of still anger and...something else in your eyes. “So being pissy is what it takes to use your quirk on me, okay.” He knew he shouldn’t have done that but he really would’ve hated himself if he let you leave. 

“Look, I-”

“Do it again.” The tense air fills with confusion, he doesn’t really think he heard you clearly.

“Wait did you say to do it again?” 

You nodded at him, “Yes, or do I have to complain again to get you riled up.” The empty feeling returned to your head as you felt yourself float away to blankness. 

“I never stopped being mad at you the first time. If I knew you were into this we could’ve done this a long time ago.” You said nothing, he smiled. “Take off your shirt.” 

You felt your fingertips graze your body as you completed an action that was simultaneously entirely and not entirely of your own volition. You felt yourself already reeling, it’s been about a month since you two have had sex and you didn’t realize how badly you missed the feeling until just then.

He hummed to himself and hovered above you, grabbing your chin as you stared off into nothing. “Look at me”. You comply, and he stares back at you, ravenous. “You’ve been very bitchy today, I can think of plenty of other uses for your smart mouth, can you?” You continue to stare at him, you wish you could just put your mouth on his dick already but the fact that you can’t move at all is what’s getting you going. He strokes his hand through your hand and settles on the back of your hair. His other hand makes quick work of his underwear and you feel your body tighten at the sight of his dick, god it was so pretty. 

He let it rest against your cheek, you still stared up at him, motionless. He could feel your breath against his length and he so badly wanted to shove himself down your throat. You made no movements that weren’t ordered, but he can tell through your eyes that you were desperate for this as well. But not tonight. 

He pulled your hair back so you’d fall backwards onto the bed, he easily pushed you further back and got on his knees. “Don’t move”. God he knows you’re a squirmer. You wish you could see him, but you had to settle on the feeling of him sliding your underwear off unbearably slow before returning to breathe inches away from your heat. You felt kisses up your thigh as he situated his large hands on the sides of your hips. At this rate you were going to cum instantly the second he touched you. You could feel him laugh against you. “I didn’t know you liked this that much”, he kisses your heat and begins to lavishly tend to the flame that’s been burning in you for weeks now. He kept to slow circular motions that turned a lot more passionate, he was eating you out like it was his last meal. It was the strangest sensation ever, you wanted to writhe so badly, wanted to push yourself up against him, wanted to grab his hair and scream but your body laid their limp as if you weren’t even there. Truly you weren’t, even your thoughts were fuzzy and fading, it’s as if you were viewing this from a foggy window. You could feel everything though, every flick, every slurp, every finger, everything. You tried concentrating on your incoming orgasm when he suddenly let’s his control of you go. Immediately you begin to cry out, not being too concerned that it was nearly 3 AM. Your hand immediately entwines with those gorgeous purple locks of his and you feel yourself teeter the edge of insanity. 

His fingers curl upwards and rubs the top of your walls at a sickening pace, the intensity on your clit is still as wild as it was before. You feel yourself bite down in an attempt to silence your orgasm but it came out anyway in harsh gasps and moans, it sounded like you were sobbing. 

He licks his fingers and you watch him with a desperate look in your eye, feeling your orgasm taper into lust again. 

“You ready for more,” he asks with a devilish smile on his face.

“Pleas-” You fade into the haze again, you can’t wait to have your hips broken in.

“Lay back kitty, I’ve treated you really nicely, but now I’m going to show you what happens to bitches that want to argue.” You move backward and he follows you further up your shared bed, the loving look in his eyes when he was between your legs was no longer present. He was going to use you, violently, as hard and as fast as he wanted to, and you were gonna watch. His hips quickly made contact with yours and he stopped, slowly dragging out of you so your walls could miss him. He smiled at you and caressed your cheeks before he slammed into you all the way once more, his purple eyes piercing through yours as you felt your walls throb on him. His pacing became frantic, his strong hands were gripping the life out of your hips, your ragdolled body doing nothing but taking everything he could give you.

“Raise your hips.” You did as you were told, the new angle making your thighs desperately want to buckle but his focus on you kept you sturdy. He was absolutely relentless, his own groans were loud and as rough as his movements. He felt your walls clenching around him and he gripped down hard on your thighs, deciding he wasn’t going to let you go this time. 

Your whole body ached and you felt like you were on the verge of either collapsing or going to heaven. The hazy cloud in your brain knocked any other thought but his dick out of your mind, in this moment the only thing that mattered was the orgasm you were about to get fucked into.

“God you’re still such a fucking slut for me. I haven’t seen you so lewd since we first moved in. I guess I should give you what you want. Come for me kitty.”

Just like that you came, hard. His own incoming orgasm ruined his focus on you and you began to repeat his name like a mantra as you saw the blistering whites of heaven. He buckles into you, violently gripping your shoulders as he unloads inside of you, he watches your eyes roll to the back of your head at the sensation of his cum filling you. You’re both happy in heaven, loving this moment of sincerity and closeness. Your ears continued to ring as you tapped his shoulder, he pulled out of you and moved up to hug you. 

“I’m sorry I haven’t been here, I really am Y/n, you’re the most important person to me and I don’t know where I’d be without you” he lets out between his still harsh breathing.

“I’m sorry I wouldn’t listen Toshi, I just really missed you and I was scared that you were tired of me.”

“That’s impossible” he laughs into the crook of your neck and you both feel ready to fall asleep but know that you have to clean up first.

“Toshi?”

“Yes?”

“Could you carry me to the shower, my legs hurt.” 

You can feel him chuckle against you before moving to pick you up, “of course kitten.” 

[captains-writing-desk]

Bothersome Pt. 2

Universe: Harry Potter

Character: Severus Snape

Type: F!Reader insert (You, yours)

Words: 2,649

Prompt: For my dear anon asking for part 2 of Bothersome! This be the fluffy and angsty part.

Note: Sorry it took me a while I went home to visit my parents for a while. Hope you like it!

Gimme feedback and requests guys!

Part 1

-

True to his word, Severus didn’t leave you anything, not even the script he seemed to have spent all day writing. No matter, you could do some really fun things and make the students love you far more than him, though in all honesty most students would already have placed you higher in the ranks of favourites before you even set foot in the room for the first time. What if he despised you for it though? Hang on, since when had that ever crossed your mind in your decisions? Never. You would do it.

Your lessons went down without a hitch and were received very well since you’d ask at the end of each lesson how the students found it. Most responses were along the lines of ‘Much nicer than Snape’s lessons’, Which you assumed would happen but was still good feedback nonetheless.

When fourth period came, Albus caught up with you after sitting on the last ten minutes of the lesson, taking in the students feedback before coming to see you.

“I see they’ve taken quite fondly to you. Not just because Severus isn’t here.” He chuckled softly and you mirrored.

“I hope so. I look forwards to rubbing it in his face. Not that he would care much but still, I’ll say they learned more.” Would that be suspicious to the headmaster? Would he catch on to what happened between the two of you.

“He is easy to tease, especially in the nature of your relationship. Perhaps you’ve outgrown being an assistant. ” He caught you off guard with that one and you stared incredulously at him for a moment.

“Our relationship?” You pressed but tried to remain casual.

“You’ve a relationship based on insults no?” He smirked and you knew then that you’d put your foot in it by merely questioning the word relationship. Forgetting it can be any sort of bond. Bollocks.

“Oh yes. We do I suppose.” You laughed nervously, “Though I suppose it’s more that I just irritate him relentlessly.” You added in an attempt to make the situation a little less awkward for yourself.

“I doubt that very much.” He chuckled and excused himself as the students for the last class of the day started filtering in. You mentally kicked yourself over the whole interaction then greeted the students.

It was a nice easy lesson to end on, some fifth years that required little supervision, just answers to some of their questions when they needed for their OWLs preparation essays which they were able to finish outside of the lesson anyway.

You found yourself staring at the pillar where everything began the night before and got yourself lost in your thoughts. You started overthinking and getting anxious about seeing the man again and you would have started panicking had a voice not pulled you back to the room you were in.

“Professor?” They had repeated this a few times as you tried to shake yourself out of your daze.

“Sorry..” You finally looked at the student, “I’m not your professor you know. Yet.” You smiled and some students chuckled.

“Soon. I hope.” The student joked then proceeded with their question.

Soon enough practically all of the students had gotten bored of writing and were starting to get distracted.

“Alright I can see you’re all very bored. You’ll have plenty of time to be bored in the examinations so you can do what you like with last ten minutes of the lesson.” In all honesty you were pretty tired yourself and your mind kept wandering in the silence, so some mindless noise would be helpful. The class were definitely happy with their free reign and gave their thanks before turning to make conversation in amongst eachother as you went and sat at the desk.

“Professor?” You had not expected any of the students to talk to you but it was another welcome distraction.

“Yes?” You leaned forward, resting your chin on your hand.

“How much longer will you be here? You seem far more advanced to be an assistant now.” Everyone today was out to surprise you with their questions that you barely knew the answers to. You had been an assistant for some time now and you really had caught up to Severus’ level now. What would happen now?

“You know what. I’m really not sure.” You answered after a moment of thought, thinking about it, what had Albus meant earlier about outgrowing being an assistant? Was it time for you to leave and find an actual professors position? “Not very long, I fear.” You added quite blankly and the students made their jokes about how they wished you would replace Severus. The last few minutes went by with you sat in silence, wondering what your future held.

-

You meandered to the great hall for dinner and slowly picked at your food.

“Are you alright?” Minerva interrupted your blank but racing thoughts, “You seem to be off in the clouds.” She added with a terse smile, seeming quite concerned.

“Yes. Yes, I’m alright.” You cleared your throat and leaned closer to her, “Though I think it’s dawned on me it’ll be time to move on soon to find a permanent position.” You whispered softly and she smiled endearingly at you.

“You’ve grown fond of things here haven’t you? Yes, I think it is high time you found something more suited to your level now. You can’t stay an assistant forever you know?” She reassured you and mentioned you should have a word with Albus later.

“I suppose I should. He did mention it briefly earlier but I didn’t really think..” You trailed off as your heart rose into your throat, watching Severus walking through the students and you quickly averted your eyes to meet the gaze of Minerva, and Albus behind her. Minerva furrowed her brows and Albus had a look of masked amusement.

“You don’t look so well.” Minerva reached for your shoulder and pressed her other hand to your flushed cheeks.

“I’m quite alright.” You reassured with a weak smile and fidgeted your hands. Everything suddenly felt like too much and your body was telling you to run or perhaps to die in a hole in the ground, or both. Minerva went to speak again but Albus appeared between the two of you with his arm held out to you.

“Come. Let’s get you some air. I insist.” He added as you started to protest, taking your hand and urging you to stand. You let him help you to your feet as you felt your legs might give way. Severus had now sat in the empty chair that was next to you, brushing against your arm ever so gently but you stayed focussed on Albus’ arm and trying to look as normal as you could.

“You’re not in trouble.” He nudged you playfully as you stepped down from the plinth of the table you’d been sat at. You let yourself laugh to calm your nerves and it helped you at least look well as not to draw too much attention. You let go of his arm as you walked through the rows of students but he put his palm between your shoulder blades to keep you steady, as if he was afraid you’d fall.

-

After walking half of the grounds in s somewhat comfortable silence, you felt you needed to bring peace to your thoughts finally.

“Professor?” You caught his attention as he strolled casually next to you.

“Yes?” Be turned his head curiously to meet your gaze.

“You mentioned earlier it was time I should move on from being an assistant. What am I moving on to? How soon?” He chuckled at how desperate your voice seemed to get at the end.

“It is entirely up to you what you choose to do. You are welcome to stay here a bit longer if you like, however I feel like you’re getting nothing from assisting Professor Snape any more.” He was right, you hadn’t learned anything new for god knows how long.

“Where can I go?” You whispered, unsure of what else to say.

“I believe the ministry has some options for you but nothing practical for you. I am able to write to other schools and ask if they have anything for you. However, should you choose you want to stay here, I have a small proposition for you.” He smiled expectantly and you stared back.

“What is it?” You finally asked.

“Well, I noticed how much the students enjoy your approach to teaching, not just because Severus wasn’t there. You have a way of engaging with them and a good balance in your teaching style which is refreshing I must say. Now, I’ve only seen you a few times in one day but the students are all very keen to see you teaching them and I would have to give you a few weeks as a trial to see how you’re doing.” He started to excite you but you pushed that feeling down just in case.

“Doing what?” You pressed.

“I’d like you to revive Alchemy. If I recall, you had a great passion in it once but it is not a well taught subject I must say but I think you could bring it back into light. What do you think?” You had come to a stop in your walk back to the castle and he turned to stand in front of you.

“I haven’t done Alchemy in a fair few years, I’d be a little rusty but I’m sure I could do it.” A grin started spreading across your face which you could barely contain.

“Take some time to think about it and let me know what you think.”

“I’ll do it!” You barely let him finish his sentence and he laughed.

“I thought you might. Though as you said, you’re going to be rusty, so come see me tomorrow morning and we will go over what you remember and go from there, alright?” He put his hand on your shoulder.

“Absolutely. I’ll be there.” You nodded your head vigorously making him laugh once more as he turned towards the castle.

“I’ll see you in the morning, you should let Severus know you won’t be with him tomorrow.” He bid you a goodnight and disappeared inside.

“Right. Yes. Severus.” You muttered as your grin faded and your stomach flipped. Why were you worrying so much, nothing ended badly, he even kissed you goodnight but you knew, this changed the nature of everything. You took a deep breath and went back inside, following the corridor to the dungeons and pausing outside your own room, staring further down at the door to Severus’ classroom where you saw a faint light and the door slightly ajar.

“Bollocks.” You whispered and let your back softly thud against your door with your head thrown back then a long sigh.

“Long day?” You jumped out of your skin and turned your head to see Severus stood directly next to you, leaning against the frame of the doorway.

“Merlin!” You held your chest to calm yourself but that would not happen around Severus. How the hell did he get out of his room and here so quickly and quietly.

“Are you alright?” He asked after a moment of silence.

“Well I’ll probably die of a heart attack now. So thank you.” Finally regaining some sort of composure.

“What happened to you earlier?” He pressed with his brows furrowed and you looked to the floor.

“Nothing really. I just needed some air.” You sighed and looked up at him finally, watching his pupils dilate.

“Hmm. A likely story. How did you find today?” He folded his arms and pressed his lips into a firm line.

“It went great. The students love me. I wish I could see their faces in the morning when they realise it’s you teaching and not me.” You felt yourself relaxing as he seemed to be the same Severus you had known, it felt natural.

“Will you not be there to see the sheer excitement?” He raised his brow and you laughed at his sarcastic remark.

“Actually I’m spending the day with the headmaster tomorrow.” You folded your arms to mirror him.

“And why would you do that?” He tilted his head slightly and you felt your last little worry leave your head, why had you even worried in the first place.

“I probably shouldn’t tell you. Very top secret and they haven’t written your letter of termination yet.” Your body had slowly turned so that your shoulder was against the door instead and you faced him.

“Surely it’s a letter of commendation for putting up with you this long.” His lips formed a small smirk and you had yet another evil idea. One that would perhaps even put your mind at rest a little more regarding your situation with him.

“You should come inside for a moment.” You said softly with a sigh and led him inside your quarters where you sat him next to you on a sofa.

“The Headmaster spoke to me today about my position here. I’ve outgrown being your assistant, he said I was far too accomplished to stay.” You had to add some sort of zinger of course but remained serious in your expression. He searched your eyes for a moment and settled for you being truthful.

“Where will you go?” He forced himself to speak.

“Well he said he has found a potential position for me which is why I’m going to see him tomorrow.” You weren’t exactly lying, just withholding certain bits of information. He was silent for a long time, thinking so hard you could see the cogs in his head turning.

“Severus?” You were actually rather concerned now as you put your hand on his knee. He stares at it for a moment for putting his own hand on top of yours.

“I could teach you more.” He said softly.

“I don’t think you can.” You whispered, feeling guilty for trying to invoke something in him, you’d tell him the truth now and stop joking. “Besides, if you remember something to teach me I’ll only be down the corridor.” You smiled quite flatly, still feeling bad about your joke.

“What do you mean?” He looked at you now with a frown.

“Well I’m going to be doing Alchemy. Potentially anyway. Right here. Albus is going to see how I do tomorrow, if it goes well he will give me some time to prepare, them give me trial a period in a classroom.” He narrowed his eyes at you and your smile grew sheepish.

“That was cruel.” His voice sounded somehow deeper than ever.

“I’m sorry. Poor judgement on my part.” You squeezed his knee and looked at him with sincerity. He realized now what you had been trying to do and he almost went to retaliate but Minerva had been right earlier when he asked her what happened after you left the hall.

‘She’s worried about leaving here, about leaving someone close.’ She had said to him and he had shook it off as her playing games as she did with joking about the two of you but she had been right on this occasion.

“I don’t know what I’d have done I’d you left before I even got to figure any of this out.” His hand twitched against yours as a gesture for ‘this’. It wasn’t a big statement but you didn’t want a big statement. In fact it was the perfect statement, because now you could both figure everything out as you are meant to. Nothing can fall into place just like that but this was a pretty good start.

[junova]

↬ 𝐛𝐞𝐚𝐮𝐭𝐢𝐟𝐮𝐥 𝐬𝐭𝐫𝐚𝐧𝐠𝐞𝐫 | 𝐬. 𝐫𝐨𝐠𝐞𝐫𝐬

pairing: au!steve x fem!reader 

summary: the one where you meet steve rogers. 

word count: 3.8K+ 

[author’s note]: hello my sunshines! welcome to the first installment of a short series i’ve been working on. hope you enjoy reading it as much as i loved writing it! lmk what you think <3 

warnings: angst, slight dose of baby fluff (if u blink), cursing 

*: ･ﾟ ✧*:  ･ﾟ✧ *: ･ﾟ ✧*:  ･ﾟ✧  *: ･ﾟ✧*:  ･ﾟ✧

THE FIRST TIME IT HAPPENED was a slight shift in priority and truly, it wasn’t a big deal. You understood the two of them worked together, and time had run over. Later in the evening when he returned home, he apologized to you. Forgetting the two of you had plans while he with another woman, but you didn’t let it get under your skin. Above everything else, you trusted him. 

Until the first time moved to the second one, than the third, until you couldn’t keep count of how many times he had ‘forgotten’ the dates the two of you had made. Still, you let it slide. This was your sweet, tender boy. You knew despite the growing tension he would never do anything to intentionally hurt you. Just like the past couple of months, you chalked it up to him just being too busy. 

It had to be it. 

—

Maybe more than anyone else, you understood. His step-father was pushing all his unrealistic expectations of their first and only child. Continuously pushing him to be the best of the best no matter the cost. Maybe in the past, he would have blamed his parents, specifically his father for pushing him so harshly to attend Winter University. 

He had become resentful towards his father after his first year. He was stressed more than he liked to admit and the pressure to please him was always at an all time high. Heading into his third semester, he wanted nothing more than to drop out. The high intensity of each course he took too much to bear along with the very high expectations everyone in his family had for him. Just waiting for him to either succeed with grace or fail with shame. 

As everyday passed, essay after essay, he regretted the life which was chosen for him. He feared of sounding like a spoiled brat who was gifted the riches of the elite and acted like it was a burden. It certainly was the reason why he never complained. He knew what it meant to have nothing. It didn’t cost a thing. Now with the world at his fingertips it felt it may cost him everything. 

— 

 Tony suggested he should join the soccer team this year, so he did. Just as he was asked. 

It’s not as if joining was ever completely out of question. Steve had played it in high school, but he never thought he would be good to make the team. As it turned out, he was. 

He joined the team and it turned to be a good outlet for him to escape to. When everything seemed too much to juggle, he something in his life to blow off some steam. His roommate, Bucky, even made tryouts himself. 

As the weeks droned by he found a nice balance with his assignments between practices. It certainly wasn’t easy at first, but he adjusted quickly. His body soon became acquainted with waking up for practices at the crack of dawn. Was it enjoyable? Hell no, but Steve was starting to feel like he truly belonged to something. He was part of team. He was part of a unit. He didn’t even knew he craved it until he had it. 

The team captain, Wilson, urged Steve to attend the house party after their first win of the season. He was more than reluctant to attend when Bucky basically all put pushed him out of the dorms. He really did want to go, but the idea of all the assignments he was neglecting while he was partying didn’t quite sit right with him. 

If it didn’t sit right with him, he’s sure it wouldn’t sit well with Tony. 

Before he could offer some half excuse to ditch the party, an ice cold beer was shoved into his hand. Urging him to join the celebration activities. 

So he did. 

He played one too many games of beer pong, indulged himself in a few more drinking games before he felt slightly buzzed. It was the only time he let himself let go and not worry about a damn thing. 

Then a few women came onto him, interested in something more than just platonic company. He took it as his cue to leave. Close to midnight, his muscles tight and restricting due to the game he had played, craving nothing more than to find the comfort his bed could offer. 

He let Bucky know he was leaving so he didn’t worry and started to make his way back. Making his way through the house just moments from stepping out the front door, when he heard a small cry. 

There was a small bar in the room adjacent to entrance Steve was hoping to make a beeline exit for, but then he saw you sitting there. On the countertop with tears in the most captivating eyes he had ever seen. You really didn’t seem to be looking at anyone in particular. Your eyes following the bodies that passed you almost as if you were in a haze. 

You still hadn’t connected the dots on how intently Steve was looking at you and he was more than appreciative. He really didn’t want to be perceived as a creep but you were alone and probably drunk. He just wanted to make sure no one would take advantage of you. 

As carefully as he could, he approached you with a peace offering at hand. He picked up a red velvet cupcake with frosted icing on his way out, planning on munching on the delicious treat on his way home. He sensed maybe you would need it more than he did. 

The moment he stepped forward, you were acutely aware of his presence. His broad shoulders with his muscular build did nothing to diminish the fear you held when he approached you. Not looking at you like you were something to be owned or possessed, but as a bystander just wanting to offer a helping hand. 

He was so much taller than you. Even as you sat on the counter of the bar, as soon as he close to you, his soft eyes connected with yours. Maybe it helped he didn’t lure over you at the moment, he just looked at you. 

Then as if it was the most mundane act in the world, he reach into his back pocket to pull out a silky, lavender handkerchief and handed it over to you. 

“Thank you.” You felt over the handkerchief, smoothing it out between your fingertips. More than hesitant to due so, it felt nice. Expensive, too much for you to be drying your wasteful tears with it. He was offering and you thought it might be rude not to, and you really didn’t trust your voice to say anything more than pleasantries. 

So, you wiped your tears with it and it felt heavenly. Much like the boy in front of you looked. A few minutes passed, and your cries had settled down. The presence of his body protecting you or maybe it’s just what it felt like. He still hadn’t said a word to you. 

Maybe an attempt to not scare you in the other direction. Naively, you thought he might be protecting you in some way shape or form. You knew you could take care of yourself if push came to shove, but the idea that maybe there was still some human decency out there was a nice thought. 

It could be possible not every man preyed on women when they were at their most vulnerable. Of course, this one was wrapped in pretty packaging, so maybe that put you at ease. 

“Do you have a safe way to get home?” Oh? He finally speaks. 

“I can manage just fine.” You chipped, quite shortly to him. Watching him carefully, as he took a step forward. He reached in the same pocket from before, pulling out a small index card, with a number printed on it in small red ink. 

“On the small chance you can’t, ask for Happy and he can take you home. No charge, no hassle.” He then places the cupcake he had been holding in his right hand before placing it where you sat comfortably along with the card, before leaving you alone. 

You watched as he walked out the door, not sparing you a second glance. 

— 

Maybe it was naive to let your mind drift back to the boy who had showed you kindness. Anytime another person spoke to you it was easy to assume they only wanted something from you. Searching for a reason to exploit the dean’s daughter. 

Just two weeks ago when you were caught in a compromising situation you had been set up in, your mom had paid them off before the vulgar photograph spread throughout campus. The way she scolded you still fresh in mind. 

The absolute disregard for your own feelings, but total care for her reputation was nothing short of surprise. Above all, her career had come first and you were just a simple pest threatening to ruin the life she had built. 

Never neglecting to remind you of it. 

You really wish you could just be the like her. Fiercely strong, not putting up with anybody’s shit but you were the complete opposite of her. Weak, fragile, more sensitive than you’d like to be. 

She never quite missed a beat to let you know even if it’s what you wished for. 

Her disappointment weighed heavily on your shoulders that night and Finnick abandoning you for the pretty blonde across the room did nothing to help your self-esteem either. 

So, you sat on the vacant bar and cried. Only because you thought everyone was too engrossed with their preferred vices and the burn of vodka numbing their senses to hear you. 

But a boy with silky, shining hair as golden as the sun sought you out like a moth to a flame. A large part of you waiting for crude, perverted comments to fly right out his mouth with no intention of catching them. 

Then he left as soon as he came, not even leaving his name with you. Not as if you cared, you would never see him again. 

Until you did, two weeks later to be exact. 

Now, you were beginning to think he only came into your life when you seemed like a damsel in distress. Not only did a thunderstorm decide to show up on your supposed date night, but Finnick had decided to be a world colossal dick. 

At this point it shouldn’t surprise you. He had shown you time after time it’s who he was and to think he would change was an idiots’ dream. Your dream, so to speak. This time he crossed the line, pushing you to your brink. 

“Please baby. I’m sorry. It honestly was just a slip up, an oversight. Truly. It won’t happen again.” You regret even picking up his call in the first place. Now more than ever, hearing his sorry excuses wash over once again filled your venom to the brim. 

“I don’t give a fuck what your excuse is, Fin. This is the forth fucking time this week alone. I’m done with your bullshit.” Your anger once again getting the best of you, but you were well within reason to be bitter about him forgetting a date the two of you had planned once again. 

“Can we just talk? I’m finished and I’m free for you.” His tone was small, minuscule, almost like he actually cared he had let you get your hopes up.  

“Go talk to someone who fucking cares, Finnick.” You hung up on him as he was mid-sentence, because dear god lord help you if it actually became any importance to you. 

Now, it no longer mattered to you. You had given him more chances than you could count, but he always fell short. Maybe you expected more than you should from him. On the other hand, you been with him for over a year. 

If you were you honest with yourself he acted the same as he did before. The only difference is the love had dissipated into dust, no longer letting you be blinded by him. His eyes didn’t glow with love but rather with an emptiness you couldn’t fill. Even if it’s all you wished for.

Now, on this shameful night, you stood outside waiting for a sign. Maybe a beacon of hope letting you know not everything was lost.

Hoping your four year relationship wasn’t tumbling down the drain.

Then you saw him, again.

Just like before you were struck by just how beautiful he is. Without a shadow of a doubt, he was the most attractive man you had ever encountered with.

His build made you recognize him instantly. The man who had given you the handkerchief to remedy the loss you felt that night. An act of kindness which hadn’t been reach out to you in so long.

Now, here you were crying in front of the handsome stranger again. Surely, he would think you were nothing more than a pathetic little girl. 

This time he wasn’t alone which only seemed to triple your embarrassment. Accompanied by a man who seemed to be twice his age, more than likely his father. He hadn’t noticed you yet, thankfully. Even if he had, you doubted he would realize who you were.

He surely could have been drunk or out of his mind on the night he found you. Part of you knew he was of sane mind, but the shameful part of you wished he wasn’t so there would be nothing familiar about you.

Simply, you be a single face in a sea of many.

Fate would not be on your side today, because he approached you. Loudly enough to make his presence known but not too loud to scare you off.

Is this what it felt like to die inside?

He was even more beautiful than last time. A pure vision and by the way he carried himself, he knew it, too. Although, the mysterious blonde wasn’t arrogant but held confidence so infatuating you could help but be intrigued. 

“Here.” He gestures softly, your big doe eyes meeting his own. He held the umbrella under the both of you, shielding you from the pelts of Zeus. “I can’t imagine you would want to get more drenched than you already are.”

Part of you wanted to dismiss him, but you had a feeling he wouldn’t let you even if you tried. Especially from the judgement from the man who was tucked safely by the front door.

Now, that he mentioned it, you hadn’t noticed you brought yourself out onto the curb from the restaurant allowing yourself to be coated in your shame.

The rain, too.

“Thank you. Again. Seems like I only know how to make myself appear as an emotional idiot in front of you.” Now, the two of you so close to one another the concept of breathing was hard for you to grasp.

It wasn’t lost on you the death glare the man he was just with looked at you like vermin. How you could anyone ever be associated with someone who looked as pitiful as you did?

Trust me, I was asking myself the same question.

“Take the handle.” The golden boy guided the umbrella towards you, all but shoving it into your hold. You thought he was going to walk away from you again but he took the moment of his gloved fingertips freed to remove the wool coat off of his muscled back. Carefully, placing the dry material on your shoulders.

He didn’t miss the quizzical frown upon your face, maybe if you weren’t crying you might have been the most stunning women he had ever seen.

Not even the rain could hide those puffy cheeks and under eyes from him. It wasn’t important to him now, not when you were shivering half to death. 

“You’re freezing. You need to warm up.” His fingertip fastened the buttons on the coat, wrapping you in what smelled like him. A musky scent so refreshing you let it consume your senses. Immediately two sleek, jet black town cars pulled up to the curb where you stood by the mysteriously chivalrous man.

“C’mon doll.” He grabbed the umbrella, holding it firm as he reached his free hand out for you ready to take. 

For an unknown reason, you latched on to him. Surprising even yourself.

The older man skipped in front of you opening the door, before hopping in with the man you still didn’t even know the name of.

In hindsight, probably wasn’t the wisest decision you’ve made but there was this underlying feeling. You trusted him. He had given you no reason not to, only providing his aid and care one both occasions.

Mindlessly offering him your address, now aware of how fucked you were if he wasn’t as kind as he seemed to be. Not only were you with one unidentified man, but two.

“Are you okay? Are you still cold?” He peered down at you, his eyes piercing through you with a soft warmth. In stark comparison to the man sitting across from you, his brown hues watching you for any sudden movement.

“I’m warmer now.” He nodded, accepting your affirmation for now. Itching to say more, wondering if you were as well.

The heater inside the vehicle seemed to leave him warmer than he would normally prefer, but kept it on even if it was making his body sweat profusely. Almost worried he might be making you uncomfortable, eyes following yours just to make sure you weren’t looking as he removed the blazer only know allowing his true physique to be exposed.

But god were you fucking looking. 

You knew he was jacked, but to this extent? You didn’t know it was possible to look this good.

As soon as his eyes found your own, shamelessly checking him out, he figured now would be a wonderful time to insert himself in.

“You know, sometimes it’s easier to tell strangers your problems than the people closest to you.” Lowering his voice, so the older gentleman couldn’t hear him. “I-I don’t know why you’d assume I have a problem.” You looked at him and you felt like an unopened book but he still managed to know every little thing about you.

“Just a feeling, maybe. That’s all.” He didn’t bother you again the rest of the ride home and it bugged you. He clearly wanted to say something but he bit his tongue instead. Keeping his hand in his lap, making sure he kept his distance from you.

“Smile snowflake, you’re not getting soaked anymore.” The older man finally addressed you. Focusing his fury gaze upon you, waiting to elicit a certain reaction from you.

Snowflake?

“Tony, leave her be.” He hissed at him. For a moment, you thought he was being protective. He doesn’t know you idiot, think straight for once.

“Why? You decided to bring a stray without my consent. I’m just having fun, Steve.” You didn’t miss the tension growing between the pair, ready to brawl right here in front of you.

Steve.

Why did his name sound familiar to you? Do you know him? Is that why he was being kind to you? Did he somehow know you?

“If you don’t drop this I swear to god, Stark.” Thankfully enough for Steve, Happy interrupted the two men.

“Sir, we’ve arrived at the designated location.” The car coming to a halt and you couldn’t wait to bust out of here. Desperate to dry yourself, hopefully you still had time and you wouldn’t catch a cold.

Just as you feared, it was still pouring down. Fantastic.

“Thank you for the ride, really. You didn’t have to.” Your small, angelic voice barely ascending to a volume loud enough for Steve to hear you. 

His eyes getting lost in you for a moment before looking through the window, the rain morphing itself into larger specs of hail.

“Jesus, it’s still fucking pouring. Let me walk you up.” He reaches towards the umbrella he had tossed into the empty seat.

“Steven. We need to go.” Tony had lowered his voice an octave lower, demanding Steve actually listen to him just this once.

“You can wait two minutes.” Rolling his eyes at him, before he intertwined his hand with your own. “C’mon.”

Held you right against his muscled chest as he pulled you out of the car and into him. Under the umbrella, tucked safely away from getting sick even further. He moved until you were under the protection for your patio. The rain once and for all shielded away.

“I’m sorry about, Tony. He means well but he’s a bit of an asshole.” Steve smiled down, looking like he had just won the lottery. “Really? I couldn’t tell.” Just like that, Steve let out a soft laugh. Showing off his perfectly aligned pearly whites, with a subtly you wished to possess.

“Oh shit! Here.” You begin to take off the coat he lended you, but his calloused hands stopped the gesture.

“Keep it. Please?” He questioned, almost like he was unsure of the words falling out of his mouth.

“Why?” You thought it was a simple question, but he must have stood there for a couple of minutes before actually responding you.

“It really just doesn’t fit me right, would hate for it to go to waste.” He mumbled it out, almost as if he was struggling with the concept of flirting with you.

“Okay, then. I’ll keep it.” You agreed with him, gripping it closer to you. Taking in his smell once again.

“Alright, then. You should get going. Wouldn’t want to keep Tony waiting.” He nodded, stepping away from you, battling a war with himself.

Just do it, dummy. This is your chance.

When you thought he was going to walk away, he took you in his arms. No longer caring about the damage your wet hair may cause to his suit. Not that Steve really cared to begin with.

“You don’t deserve whatever he’s giving you. Just know there’s always something better at the end of the tunnel, maybe even someone else willing to offer you more.” He breathed into your ear, before kissing you sweetly on the cheek.

“I’ll see you soon, angel.”

Leaving with more than enough to think about.

—

taglist: @tonystankschild 

[avis-writeshq]

Yamaguchi Tadashi x Reader: I’m Tired

Requested: No

Pairing: (3rd Year)Yamaguchi Tadashi x Fem!Reader

Summary: ‘I'm tired of being the “strong one” and the “friendly one” and the “happy one”.’ – c l a r i s s a //

Warnings: Angst, name calling/bullying, might be a trigger warning, fluff and trash writing

Other: Established relationship between Yamaguchi and Reader J istg yama’s character is all over the place I’m sorry ;-; have a comfort fic because my blog might be shadow banned who knows

Word count: 1.8k                                                                                            

 Things you probably wanna know, for all you ‘x reader’ illiterates:

(Y/N): Your Name

(H/C): Hair Colour / Color

(E/C): Eye Colour / Color

(N/N): Nickname

“(Y/N)-chan, do you mind doing the after school chores for me?” Etsudo asked sweetly, smiling at you with her big green eyes.

 You bit your lip as you thought about your answer. ‘Don’t, you have that assignment to do, remember? And what about picking up the groceries for tonight’s dinner? You even promised Yamaguchi that you’d walk home with him. Oh yeah, and how about when you promised Aneko that you’d help her out with that assignment she’s behind with? Say no, (Y/N), say no, say-’

 “Sure, no problem!” You plastered a fake smile onto your face. “Uh, is there a particular reason you can’t do it today?”

 “I just wanted to do other things, ya know?” She smirked, “Thank you, (Y/N)-chan!”

 With that final remark, she skipped out of the classroom, her curly blonde hair bounding tauntingly as she did. You let out a small groan, wiping your face with your hand. It’s fine. You can clean up pretty quickly so it should be fine.

 It wasn’t fine. Etsudo apparently hid all of the cleaning supplies so cleaning up took double the time than it should have making you late to meeting up with your boyfriend as well as picking up the groceries for tonight’s dinner. You bolted out of the class room as quick as you could so that you could meet Tadashi at a somewhat reasonable time. Finally spotting him at the school gates, you let out a breath of relief to see that he hasn’t left without you.

 “(Y/N)! I was wondering where you were. Did something happen?” Concern was on his features as he looked you up and down.

 Calming your breathing, you faked a smile. “Yeah, everything is okay. I was just put on unexpected cleaning duty. It’ no big deal. Sorry you had to wait for me.”

 “Ah, don’t worry about it, (Y/N)! I didn’t wait long, it’s okay! But you usually finish cleaning duty fairly quickly…?”

 “Oh… I had to get some more cleaning products. We ran out,” You lied, “Anyway, let’s go! Do you mind if we stop by the grocery store real quick? I need to pick up some vegetables.”

 “Of course! Are you cooking dinner again tonight?”

 You shrugged, lacing your hand together with his. “My parents are still out of the country and I’m too broke for take-out. Sorry, we don’t have to if you don’t want to.”

 “No, no, it’s fine! I was just concerned,” He scratched the back of his neck sheepishly, “if you want, you can stay over for dinner?”

 “I don’t want to be a bother… besides, I have an assignment to work on. Not to mention the fact that I have to help Aneko with her project-”

 Yamaguchi let out a soft sigh, squeezing your hand gently. “Don’t forget about yourself as well, alright?”

 A small smile graced your stressed features. “Thank you, Tadashi. Damn, I won in the boyfriend lottery, didn’t I?”

 The boy’s cheeks flushed red in embarrassment. “W-Well, then you’re the perfect girlfriend!”

 Your smile faltered for a second but you laughed it off. “Agree to disagree.”

 “(Y/N)!”

 ***

You come to school the next morning with bags under your eyes after pulling an all-nighter. Aneko had called you for a good three hours after dinner and you helped her with her assignment with only a small five minute break. By the time the call was over, it was almost 10 o’clock at night and you still needed to work on an essay for a Japanese history class. By the time you went to bed, it was already past 4 in the morning.

 Dragging your feet into the classroom, you rubbed your eyes tiredly as you slumped in your chair, beginning to take the books out of your bag. That was when you noticed the monstrosity that was drawn on your desk.

 ‘SLUT’

 ‘WHORE’

 ‘TRY-HARD’  

 Drawn out and scribbled messily all over your desk in permanent marker, you couldn’t help but feel tears trickle in the corners of your eyes. Letting out a breath and blinking them away, you forced a smile onto your face. It was at that moment the teacher entered the classroom, her eyes zeroing in on your marker stained desk. Walking over to your desk, her eyes were full of pity as she asked if you were alright.

 “I’m okay,” you lied, the smile still on your face. “Is it alright if I get some cleaning supplies to clean it up after school?”

 She eyed you with concern and disbelief on her face. “We’ll find whoever did this, alright?” She turned her attention to the class who were all staring at you. “This is not only destruction of school property, but this is rude and disrespectful. If you know who did this, please come forward.”

 Silence echoed in your ears and you quickly shook your head. “It’s alright, Sensei, it’s not a big deal. I’ll just clean it up later.”

 “(L/N)-san, this is serious-”

 “It’s okay, no harm done,” you reassured, the class still staring at you, “As long as we can clean it up, right?”

 “Alright… if you’re sure. This is still unacceptable behaviour.”

 With that, she moved to the front of the class and began her lesson. Your smile faltered before falling into a frown as you opened up your textbook and notebook, trying your best to concentrate on your note taking and not on the vile words on your desk.

 You’re fine, right? There wasn’t any truth to their words… right? You weren’t any of those things. You just had to stay strong. If you ignore them, they’ll leave you alone, won’t they? That’s what everyone says, isn’t it? If you ignore it, it’ll go away… right?

 The day continued and even though you were both mentally and physically drained, the day seemed to go on as if nothing happened. Yamaguchi wasn’t aware of anything happening – after all, you didn’t want to bother him, especially because he was busy with his own things including being the captain of the volleyball club. He already had enough on his place as it is. He didn’t need to be bothered or pestered by a situation you could handle yourself.

 Lunch rolled around and that was when the second incident happened. You had just left the classroom and you were going to the bathroom to ‘freshen up’, mostly because of the desk problem. The words were big and bold in front of your face and you knew you had to get rid of the words as soon as possible.

 Pushing the bathroom door open, you were instantly met with Etsudo’s smirking face.

 “I see you got my little note?”

 “I don’t understand why you’re so smug about it,” you responded, “when they find out who did it you’re going to get your consequences.”

 She scoffed, “it’s not a big deal. You said it yourself, didn’t you? You’ll just clean it up later.”

 You grit your teeth at her words. “Why are you targeting me anyway? I didn’t do anything to you!”

 “I don’t like your attitude.”

 A harsh slap resounded around the bathroom walls, and you clutched your cheek in pain. “What- What the heck was that for?!”

 “You’ve been acting all high and mighty and for what? Because you’re dating the captain of the volleyball team?”

 “What are you talking about?” You demanded, tears prickling in your eyes from both physical and emotional pain. “You’re the one targeting me for no damn reason! I don’t care if you’re jealous or if you’re insecure about yourself! This isn’t how you should treat other people!”

 “I’m not the one who pretends to be nice all the time. You’re two-faced, and a liar. If anything, you’re the bad guy.” Her smirk only grew as she watched your expression turn slack.

 “I put effort into being nice. Unlike you, I don’t want any unneeded drama,” you snapped.

 Etsudo rolled her eyes. “You really are naïve, aren’t you, (Y/N)-chan? Can’t you see? You’re a nobody trying to be a somebody. Just step aside and stop causing problems.”

 With another cold hearted glare, she pushed past you and out of the restroom, leaving you to your own devices and to your own feelings. You were frozen as her words and accusations washed over you and a new wave of tears threatened to spill from the corners of your eyes. This wasn’t fair… you weren’t any of those things! You weren’t looking for attention and you weren’t two-faced. You don’t even realise that your tears were already flowing down your cheeks until you felt them in your mouth. Furiously wiping them away, you locked yourself into a stall.

 ***

You skip the following class after lunch and returned to the lesson with an icepack on the cheek where Etsudo had slapped you. The teacher didn’t seem to care when you walked into the classroom and continued on with his lesson, droning on about the importance of the Muromachi Period in Japan.

 School ended with you staying over time to clear your desk. Reading the messages on the desk just made tears build up even more – all the emotions you were hiding and bottling inside of you were ready to burst.

 ‘SLUT’

 ‘WHORE’

 ‘TRY-HARD’

 Even though the words were blurred because of your constant scrubbing, they were burned into all corners of your mind. You sniffed, rubbing at your eyes with the back of your hand as the tears continued to spill.

 “Stop crying,” you muttered to yourself, “stop-”

 “(Y/N)? What’s wrong? Why are you crying?”

 The cloth in your hand fell to the table as you spun around, only to see a very concerned Yamaguchi Tadashi at your classroom door.

 “Dashi, I- I’m sorry, I didn’t…”

 “Hey, it’s okay, come here,” He said gently, opening his arms wide. “What’s wrong, baby?”

 As soon as he asked that question, you turned into a blubbering mess, tears running freely down your cheek and onto his shirt as you buried your face into his chest.

 “I- I’m so tired, Dashi…” You whimpered, “I’m tired of pretending I’m okay… I’m not-” you hiccupped, swallowing the lump in your throat, “I’m not the perfect girlfriend and – and – you deserve better!”

 “That’s not true,” He frowned at your words, “(Y/N), you’re the best girlfriend I could ever ask for! You’re kind, smart, selfless…”

 “Stop lying,” you whispered, “don’t lie to me, Tadashi…”

 “I’m not lying, my love, I would never, you know that,” His hands traced circles on your back. “We’ll talk to the teachers tomorrow, alright? Do you want to go home?”

 “I have to clean up that mess.”

 “I’ll help you then. The sooner we finish the sooner we can go home and cuddle.” He grinned at your, pressing a kiss to your forehead. “I’m in love with you, okay? Never forget that.”

This literally hurt to write aha if there’s something that I’m good at, it’s conveying feelings into writing hehe

 As usual, here’s the tag list and the copyright disclaimer!

 Copyright Disclaimer:

All characters except for the reader and my OC’s (listed below) are the work of Haruichi Furudate (古館春一). This is not part of the canon work by any means. I do not claim ownership over the characters or the Haikyuu storyline and plot. Without Furudate Sensei’s work, myself as well as many other writers are unable to create these stories.

 My OC’s:

Fukuhara Aneko (福原あねこ)

Emiko Etsudo (えつどうえみこ)

[yuta-nakamots]

Candle Light - l.hc ; Part 2 of 2 (End)

Pairing - College!Haechan x Ghost!Reader

Genre - Fluff but mostly angst at the end

Warnings - Character death, supernatural activity (you are literally a ghost)

Summary - As the resident ghost that haunts your old apartment, you take pride in scaring away those who dare move in, not wanting them to ruin your memories. Though your mission changes after a group of boys arrive. These are the four boys you allow into your space and your heart. One of them is the candle that supports you, and you are the fire that burns atop it, his beacon of light.

Word Count - 6.2k

A/N - as always, credit goes to @soleilhyuck​ for coming up with the idea for this fic. thank you for patiently waiting and giving lots of love to this series and please look forward to frat boy!yuta next month as well <3

Tag List - @sunflowerhae @eunsangelical @soleilhyuck @neoyoungho @carefreebubble @sly-merlin @jisungismymom @jimelonji @lyraaacle @peachy-yabbay @yomanitsgonnabehee​

January 2020

News about the new virus was quickly spreading, as was the disease itself, unironically. You sat next to Renjun as he watched the news on TV and played a game on his phone while Jeno was lying on the floor in front of the coffee table as he typed out an essay on his laptop.

You watched as the newscaster stood in front of a graph showing the number of cases spiking up as he said “all local colleges will be migrating to an online schooling system for the second half of this year” to which Jeno let out a loud groan at.

“How the fuck am I supposed to do all my labs then?” he muttered under his breath, angrily hitting the carpeted floor. You laughed at his childish action, Jeno’s head whipping around as he looked in your general direction with his pupils shaking as he tried to find a face to match the voice he had just heard.

“Hey y/n, I think Jeno can hear you,” Renjun said nonchalantly as he continued watching the news station on TV, “okay, Jeno wait I think you should pay attention to the screen.”

He informed the other boy just in time as the anchor said “certain schools have disclosed that some students may still be required to return to campus for activities such as labs or other assessment events.”

Jeno rolled onto his back, letting out another groan that was almost actually a growl. “I don’t know which is worse. Having to go to school during a pandemic, or having to learn from my computer 24/7.”

February 2020

As more plans for the second semester were announced, Jeno did end up having to still visit the campus for his labs so he was occasionally out along with Jaemin who was volunteering at a hospital nearby, the same one your body was taken to after the incident, not that you’d ever tell them that though.

Jaemin had convinced Renjun to come along saying “we need extra help and it’s not like you’re doing anything anyways now that class is online” as he quite literally dragged Renjun out the front door.

This left you with Haechan, who was only able to see you in certain instances because he was still not totally sure if you really existed or not. He still used the scented candles in his room, much to your distaste, since you found yourself having to put out the flame nearly every night due to his forgetfulness.

He’d spend almost every waking moment on his computer playing Overwatch and whatever other games he was into, only stopping when we had to attend his mandatory online lectures. Even then, he’d still have the game up on his screen, barely even caring about the lecture.

Eventually, this irritated you enough, having been quite a good student yourself, to the point where you just lost it when you saw him pull up his school account and you peered over his shoulder and realizing how bad his grades really were.

“You shouldn’t do that, you know.” You spoke to him, hovering behind him as you read through the contents of his student profile.

Haechan froze for a second, surprised by your voice though he didn’t make an effort to turn around. “Well, you shouldn’t just scare people like that.” He retorted at you.

“Then don’t take your college life for granted,” you remark, not missing the high amount of absences he had even though all his courses were online, “I would’ve loved to have completed mine, but that just didn’t seem to be in my life plan now, was it?” You asked rhetorically, your voice laced with sarcasm to match his.

“What are you gonna do about it, huh?” He spat out at you. “You can’t force me to study.”

You rolled your eyes at him even if he couldn’t see you as you scoffed, “yes I can.” Quite literally, you moved through his desk and unplugged his computer from its power socket. A satisfactory grin fell upon your face as you heard his monitor die out and you look at him. His mouth was slightly agape as he finally saw you up close, your previously translucent figure becoming clearer and clearer to him with every second that passed.

From then on, Haechan consciously made an effort to cut back on his gaming and dedicate more time to his schoolwork, as he hated not knowing when you’d decide to pop into his room again and he didn’t want to risk more damage to his precious computer.

Sometimes he’d spend so much time studying that he’d even fall asleep at his desk, to which you could only sigh at as you fanned out the flames of his stupid scented candles that he continued to use before grabbing his blanket from his bed and placing it atop his shoulders.

March 2020

You found that you actually quite enjoyed spending time with Haechan as he was more entertaining and witty than Renjun. Though on a particularly slow afternoon, you watched Haechan as he went about making a sandwich in the kitchen, making yourself known to him by a light tug on his shirt before he asked “so why exactly do you haunt this apartment?”

You were leaning against the kitchen island behind him, not even having bothered to materialize in your semi-human form since you let him pick and choose when he wanted to see you or not. “If I’m being honest, I really don’t know. All I’m sure about is that this unit is my unit. It always has been and it always will be.”

“Well, what are your ties to this place? What does it mean to you?” He pressed on as he grabbed a slice of bologna from the refrigerator.

After pausing for a second as you recall your past, you told him “this is where I grew up, my parents moved here when I started elementary school and I’ve lived here for almost twenty years until I died and ever since then, I’ve just been here.”

“I’m sorry,” he interjected, looking at you and making eye contact to let you know he was being sincere, “I really am. You had so much to live for, your whole life ahead of you.” He shook his head in pity as he unwrapped a piece of cheese.

“Things don’t always go according to your plan, as you can see,” you stated before continuing on with your story, “anyways, my family moved out shortly after my incident because my sister would always cry whenever she had to pass the spot I was last alive at and eventually my parents couldn’t take it anymore so they just up and left.”

Haechan was unscrewing the lid of the jar of mayonnaise when he asked “why didn’t you stop them? Or did you try but they just weren’t able to see you?”

“They couldn’t see or hear me. I tried calling out to them, telling them I was still here, I was still alive, but nothing worked...and so they left me behind.” Your voice trailing off at the end as you felt a familiar pain in your chest at the memory of your family.

Haechan hummed in acknowledgment, spreading pieces of lettuce over the top of his sandwich, going silent before speaking again. “I think you need closure. Do you know where your family went to? I’m pretty sure we could--”

“No, I’d rather not talk to them.” You interrupted, not wanting to witness your family in pain again after having to watch them mourn your death in this very apartment. To them, you were a thing of the past and you wished to stay that way.

“You can’t just be cursed to wander around this unit for the rest of your life, or lack thereof. That’s a bit…” he paused as he wracked his brain for a word, turning up blank, “sad, for lack of a better word.”

You watched as he placed a slice of bread on top and pressed it down before biting into his creation. “It’s not like it was my choice in the first place, you know,” you strongly articulated, “if you really wanted to help me then you’d leave this place and let me wander in peace now that you know my story.”

“We both know damn well that you’re not gonna be happy if we leave you on your own.” And the most surprising part of his statement was that he was right.

April 2020

After your previous conversation with Haechan, the two of you started avoiding each other and you ended up spending more time with Jeno when he eventually came around to being able to see you. He was more of an easygoing presence and he didn’t mind it when you stayed in his room, he just asked that you “don’t mess with my stuff like when you stacked all my books up and turned my clothes inside out” the memory of it still makes you laugh to yourself.

You felt bad for Jeno, seeing him come home already exhausted from his labs and lectures, letting out a loud sigh whenever he entered through the front door as he was finally able to take off his face mask and allow himself to take a deep breath of air.

You’d often find him dozing off at his desk, his face resting either on his arm or on whatever page he had been going over. Sometimes, if you knew the assignment was important or if the deadline was near, you’d try to keep him awake by doing this like clicking his book or dropping a book on the floor. But if he was really knocked out, all you could do was just plug in his electronics to let them charge before bookmarking his page and clearing his desk for him.

On the night of his 20th birthday, the boys decided to have their own mini-party, which you excused yourself from. You didn’t want to get in the way of their celebration since you didn’t know for sure where you stood with Haechan and that’s on top of the fact that Jaemin still didn’t believe in your existence.

You stayed in Jeno’s room, softly plucking at the strings of his guitar which he had kindly left out for you. He had previously voiced his worries about you getting bored from always staying in the unit, which you found quite cute of him.

He came back to his room around midnight and you watched as he drunkenly made his way to the bathroom, stumbling in and nearly tripping over his own feet. You heard him throwing up into the toilet but you stayed put, knowing that you wouldn’t be of much help anyway. You recognized the sound of Haechan’s voice as he entered from his own side and tried to clean Jeno up.

Moments later, Haechan came into the room carrying a near unconscious Jeno to the bed you were currently sitting on. All Haechan had to do was merely glance at you before you were already materializing in human form to put Jeno’s guitar back on its stand and help Haechan get the birthday boy into bed.

Once Jeno was tucked in and snoring, you looked up at Haechan and he nodded his head in the direction of his room, inviting you to come over with him, which you did without much hesitation. You sat on the edge of his bed as he started up his computer as he asked you “don’t you ever get tired of just staying in the apartment all the time?”

You watched as he typed in his login information as you responded, “kind of, I guess. It’s all I know so it’s not like I really have anywhere else to go.”

“Have you ever tried leaving the building, or this unit at all?” He inquired while pulling up a page on google.

You thought for a moment before answering him. “No, I’ve never really wanted to leave because I’m comfortable here.”

Haechan simply nodded and stated “fair enough” as he switched tabs before turning to you. “I found this article the other day and I think this is relevant to you.” He informed, beckoning you over to him. You moved closer and read it from over his shoulder.

Certain spirits roam the earth as ghosts due to their souls holding onto the regret they had while they were still living. It is common for these types of ghosts to stay in a place that they have special emotional ties to. They often try to scare away people who enter their sacred place as they are trying to preserve it as it is in their memory, resisting change. There have been successful cases of exorcism for these types of ghosts, though oftentimes, it serves to only anger them further, which is why exorcism is not recommended. Edit: It has been found that the spirits often pass on to the true afterlife once they let go of the regrets they are holding and free themselves from the baggage that is tying them to their sacred place.

“Haechan, I already told you, I’m not leaving.”

“But think about it, you can’t just continue existing with one foot in the afterlife, one foot in the during-life,” causing you to laugh at his wording, “aren’t there other dead people you’d like to meet? You know, like Michael Jackson or something?”

“Of course, but how would you know if there really is an afterlife where I could meet them?”

“I don’t, but aren’t you getting tired of just watching people come and go? Aren’t you curious about the existence of an afterlife? You’ve been here for what, two years?”

“Three years.” You corrected, though he was correct about your boredom and curiosity even if it really was just in the slightest form.

You weren’t looking forward to when the boys moved out as it meant you’d be left on your own again. You had grown used to the four of them since you had at least one of them home at nearly all times. You didn’t want them to leave and you had even though about asking them to stay, but you knew it would be unfair to them as they had previously talked about their future educational plans.

Renjun already was in the process of transferring to a school or arts to further hone his skills as he was nearing the completion of his traditional core credits. Jeno wanted to study abroad and experience different cultures while Jaemin simply would follow along, having promised both of their parents that he would look out for Jeno and make sure he didn’t overwork himself though oftentimes it was the other way around.

As finals came around again, you witnessed the boys and their ways of dealing with the stress of their exams. Renjun simply painted aggressively while Jeno started stretching and working out more often and Jaemin, who still wasn’t able to hear or see you, resorted to cooking. You couldn’t believe Haechan broke out those godforsaken candles yet again, even after you had voiced your hatred for them, having to put out their flames and clean up the dripping wax as to not cause a fire hazard.

One day, Jaemin was finally able to see a faint outline of your silhouette when you managed to catch the knife he had accidentally pushed off the counter while preparing dinner for the guys. He really didn’t believe them when they spoke of your existence, he simply thought it was some kind of odd prank they were all in on, but when he saw his knife floating mere centimeters above his foot, he realized they weren’t lying at all.

Ever since then, you’ve enjoyed hanging around with all four of the boys. They each introduced you to their hobbies and did their best at including you in as many activities as possible. Renjun was overjoyed when he saw you lift a brush from his case and when you asked if you could join him. He was painting a simple sunset and was more than happy to have your company. Renju let you paint any way you wished, only helping here and there to blend in your strokes and fix some of the color gradients.

After it dried, you stood back as he hung the canvas up in the living room with a broad smile on his face. He turned around and you watched as his expression morphed into one of confusion when he didn’t see you behind him and he called out your name. You felt a sense of anxiety creep up on you, reminiscent of the feeling of when your own family were not about to see you.

You knew Renjun had it easiest when it came to seeing and hearing you so why was he having a hard time now? “Oh, there you are.” He said, when you came into his view again, seemingly lightheartedly but it was hard for both of you to feel at ease after what just occurred.

It happened again when you were with Jeno as he was teaching you how to play a few chords on his guitar, something you had always wanted to do in your active lifetime. The two of you had been going at it for about an hour now and things were going pretty smoothly aside from Jeno having to help press the strings down when your own fingers weren’t enough.

You were able to learn a few simple chords separately but right before you were able to string them all together, the guitar suddenly fell through your hold into Jeno’s hands that were helping you apply pressure to the strings. He let out a noise of surprise as he too could no longer see your form.

He blinked rapidly, thinking it was his own eyes playing tricks on him until you saw him relax as both of you witnessed your own body flicker back into existence. This time, there was definitely no denying what just happened.

Later that night you went to Haechan and told him both accounts of what was going on and you broke down in tears, telling him how you didn’t want to leave them just yet. He rubbed your back as you clung on to his shirt, your tears would’ve been soaking it if you weren’t a ghost.

As much as you wanted to stay in his embrace, he told you that he had to study for an upcoming final so you instead settled for lying on his bed and staring up at the ceiling as you let your mind wander through all the what-ifs going through your head.

You’re not sure how much time passed before Haechan finally climbed into his bed, throwing an arm over your waist. No sooner than before he lifted his head to speak to you, his arm dropped through your body and fell onto his bed. The shock was evident on his face as he watched you fade out from his view.

Haechan frantically reached out, trying to grasp onto something, anything to tell him that you were still there as he called out your name. You did the same to him, but your cries fell on deaf ears until one of your hands managed to grab ahold of his and he found your eyes, the fear in his mirroring your own.

You laid with Haechan as he slept that night, scared that you’d cease to exist if he weren’t by your side to validate your presence every so often.

May 2, 2020

One night, as all of you were in the living room watching a show on Netflix, as per Renjun’s recommendation, you mentioned these repeated occurrences to them causing a thick silence to fall over everyone as they processed what this possibly meant for you.

Again, you sought out Haechan’s comfort that night and stayed by his side as he slept because being with him made you feel the slightest bit more real, even when his arm dropped from your waist again.

Now that finals week was over, the boys were home more often, though Jaemin still continued to work and volunteer at the hospital with Renjun, leaving you with Jeno and Haechan. Not much changed as you still continued to stick to Haechan like glue.

May 14, 2020

About two weeks after you had first brought up the topic of your frequency disappearances, you were lying next to Haechan in his bed as you both watched videos on his phone. He abruptly turned it off and turned to face you. “Have you ever been in a relationship before?”

You shook your head, “no, I was always too bust for one.”

“Did you want to be in one? Do you want to be in one?” You froze as you looked at him, not sure if he meant what you’re thinking he means. “On a scale from one to ten, how mad would you be right now if I told you I might have feelings for you?”

You thought for a moment before responding. “Depends on if you’re being serious or not.”

“I’m dead serious. Okay, maybe not dead, but you know what I mean.” He said, poking fun at his word choice.

“Do you really like me?” You asked, unsure if you were thinking clearly.

“Yes,” he paused, “but only if you like me back.”

“Is this just a spur of the moment thing or have you actually had feelings for me before this?” You could feel your cheeks heating up and you were suddenly grateful that he couldn’t see you as if you were a normal human.

“For a while now.” He stated, shrugging his shoulders as if it were nothing.

Your eyes grew wide in shock. “I...Haechan, as much as I’m flattered, we both know it’s not going to work out,” your voice getting caught in your throat, “you’re human, you’re still alive. There’s someone out there for you--”

“Okay and?”

“There’s someone who you can hold, someone you can kiss and make love to, someone you can have a family with--”

“And what if that someone is you?” He interrupted again. “What if you’re the someone I want to hold, to kiss, to spend time with?”

“Haechan...I don’t know…” Your voice coming out as more of a whisper.

His eyes searched yours as he spoke. “Just let me kiss you...please.”

You let out a small “okay” as your eyes fluttered shut and you felt his lips meet yours. He showed you the warmth you didn’t know you could even feel as you allowed yourself to melt into his kiss. Had it not been for your body disintegrating again and causing Haechan to fall forward, you probably would’ve stayed kissing him until he was begging for air.

“I guess that’s the universe telling me to give you a break for a bit.” He chuckled while he grabbed his phone and unpaused the video he was playing earlier as he waited for you to appear again. You didn’t have to look at him to know there was a smile plastered on his face as you wrapped your arms around him and nuzzled your face into his chest the very second you could.

If you were considered to be clingy with Haechan, now you were practically inseparable.

May 17, 2020

It was a rare occurrence for all four of them to be home together during the day so Jaemin took it as an opportunity to gather everyone for lunch. He didn’t even knock as he opened the door to Haechan’s room, sticking his head in to say “lunch is ready. I made kimchi stew. Oh, hey y/n, haven’t seen you in a while.”

You whined in embarrassment due to the fact that you were currently seated in Haechan’s lap as he practically held you like a baby, cooing at you and littering kisses across your face.

Once Jaemin was gone, Haechan pressed a kiss to your forehead. “You’re cute when you’re embarrassed. You know that?” He said, ruffling your hair out of affection.

May 19, 2020

You watch with great interest as Haechan lugs a box into his bedroom and cuts it open, revealing an electronic keyboard. He had told you previously that he wanted to get back into playing piano, having played it when he was younger. You didn’t think he was actually serious enough about it to buy a whole keyboard which, from the looks of it, seemed pretty expensive.

You sat in his gaming chair as you watched him assemble the stand, handing him scissors when he asked and holding things in place when his own two hands weren’t enough. You didn’t trust yourself to do much else in case you randomly disappeared again. Your lips curved upwards as he plugged the keyboard into the socket on the wall and played a few chords, his own smile matching yours.

May 20, 2020

Sighing, you floating your way into Haechan’s room as you notice his sleeping figure hunched over his desk, a little string of drool landing on the lined paper he was writing on. Given that school was already over, you figured it was song lyrics that he was writing.

Haechan, along with getting back into playing piano, had also picked up song composition and lyric writing as well though he refused to show you any of the lyrics he wrote and claimed he’d be embarrassed if you saw them to which you rolled your eyes at. Haechan? Embarrassed? Now that was a rarity given that he was one of the most confident people you’ve ever met, not even bothering to cover himself up the few times you accidentally came in while he was changing his clothes.

But as confident as he was, he had yet to channel that into his lyric writing as he kept falling asleep after hours of trying to get them perfect. You fan out the candle he had been using and run your finger across his lip, gathering his drool, in order to prevent his from further wetting his paper.

You tried to slowly pull the paper out from under his head, doing your best to not wake him up, though your efforts were in vain as his eyes shot open the second you tugged a little too hard. It took Haechan only a second or two to figure out what you were doing before he snatched the paper from you while whining “I told you not to read them” as he puts it in a folder filled with other papers which you assume are also lyrics.

“I was only moving it so you wouldn’t drool on it like a baby.” You scoffed at him.

Haechan imitated your scoff back at you, “don’t lie,” he quipped, “I know you were going to read it as soon as you got your hands on it.”

“You know, you better quit it or else you’re sleeping alone tonight.” You threatened, knowing that your boyfriend of sorts has gotten used to your presence in his bed while he slept.

“No!” He exclaimed, his eyes growing wide in panic before he dove for his bed and gave you puppy eyes, begging you not to leave him.

May 25, 2020

At this point, your disappearances had become more frequent and lasted for longer durations, leaving the boys constantly guessing as to where you were. You could barely muster up the force to show yourself in your human form and physically move objects so you were glad when you realized they could all see you in your regular blue-tinted ghost state.

You considered yourself lucky when they told you they could still feel the gusts of wind you created while moving around, even when you became invisible. It may look stupid to you when you were rapidly moving your arms back in forth to let them know where you are, but it’s not like you cared when you knew they couldn’t see you anyways.

On this day, you were watching a show on TV with Renjun, though he could only vaguely sense your presence. When you heard the sink in the kitchen turn on, you left your seat and floated through the wall to see if it was Jaemin cooking again. Much to your surprise, it was Haechan who was actually doing the dishes for once.

You moved around behind him, alerting him of your presence. “Hey babe, came to do the dishes with me?” You rolled your eyes and rapidly fanned his neck, something you knew he hated because he was ticklish in that area. “Okay, okay, I get it.” He giggled while scrunching his neck.

“Is y/n with you in the kitchen?” Renjun called out from the living room. Haechan shouted back a short ‘yes’ to which you heard Renjun respond back with a slight laugh in his voice, “I thought she was still with me so I was talking about the show but I guess I was just talking to myself this whole time.”

May 29, 2020

No matter how much energy you concentrated, you just couldn’t seem to show yourself in your human form at all. You weren’t completely invisible to the boys yet, just fading in and out of your normal ghost forme every so often, though if you really tried hard  enough, you could force yourself to become visible again, even if it were only for a few seconds. You saved your energy for more important moments like when Haechan shot up from his place next to you in bed, sweating from the nightmare he was having.

For the past half hour or so, you watched him as he writhed in his sleep and you felt your heart wrench knowing there was nothing you could do to rouse him from his sleep, unable to do your normal actions of slamming windows or dropping books so you felt a sense of relief when he jolted awake and looked over to where he knew you’d be, his eyes searching for the outline of your body to give him some comfort.

You forced yourself to show up, glowing faintly in the darkened room as Haechan was able to catch your silhouette before it disappeared again. His eyes bore straight into yours, even if you knew that to him, he was simply staring at a wall so you didn’t move, not wanting to leave his gaze as he spoke to you.

“Y/n, I hope you know that every moment I spend with you is precious to you. Whether I can see you or not, I know when you’re with me.” He confessed, his eyes starting to tear up. “I can only hope that I am making your last moments precious for you as well.”

You hoped so desperately to have enough strength to show yourself again to let him know that you heard him and felt the same way, but you were unable to. Your own wet eyes mirrored his as you reached out a hand to cup his face, a tear slipping out of your eyes as you watch your hand merely fall through his cheek.

June 2, 2020

You’ve come to terms with the fact that your time on earth is running out when you can only seem to manage to materialize once or twice a day, lasting for only about a second each time. You were upset that you didn’t get to say a true goodbye to the other three boys, wanting to thank them for taking such good care of you. Maybe you just so hoped that this regret would keep you with them longer, if only for a few more days.

June 4, 2020

When Haechan returns to his room after eating breakfast with the rest of the guys, you watch as he sits down in front of his keyboard before turning around to face his bed, where he’s guessing you were as he spoke. “Y/n, I wrote this song for you. I don’t know how much longer I have left with you so I rushed the ending of it, but I wanted to show you now before it’s too late.”

With that, he turned back around and began playing a melody you had heard from him before though it was different this time around now that he was singing the lyrics he wrote for you.

Like Monday, Tuesday, Wednesday, Thursday, Moments with you are always special. I’m thankful for all the days we spend together, At times like this I get shy, but it means I love you. When I see you brightly smiling and dazzling, My wish of us being together forever seems like it’ll come true. I know the future isn’t clear and the past might be sad, But don’t worry anymore. Just keep adding days like this. Monday, Tuesday, Wednesday, Thursday, I only have plans filled with you, I think it’s perfect. In my heart, my dreams were possible through you, I want to fulfill them all with you. I’m not alone, I’m with you, When I needed someone, you came to me. Even in the ordinary, I celebrate your preciousness, Please always stay by my side.

I want to give you gift-like days, you and me, me and you baby. Without leaving behind a single day, it’s only us. Like candlelight that never goes out, My wish of us being together forever seems like it’ll come true.

June 5, 2020

If you’re being completely honest with yourself, you’ve practically given up trying to make your whereabouts known to the boys, though they continued to speak to you as they estimated your location and if you were even present in the same room or not.

You wanted to tell Haechan how much you loved the song he wrote, but you were unable to. You wanted to do something for his birthday but you barely had enough strength to walk yourself from the balcony back into his room.

For the first time within the last four years of your existence, you felt tired. You had forgotten this feeling, what it was like to be tired and suddenly you remembered when all you wanted to do was lie down and sleep.

It was late already, the digital clock on Haechan’s desk reading 11:48pm as he stepped out from the bathroom, freshly showered. You eyed him, wanting to get up and kiss him all over, to give him the same love he gave to you, and you felt so helpless when you knew you wouldn’t be able to.

He lay down in his bed with his hair still slightly wet. “Can you believe it’s already been a whole year since we first moved in?” He turned his head, guessing at where your face was but returning his gaze to the ceiling to not make you feel bad before continuing on. “I never would’ve believed in ghosts if I hadn’t met you but now I’m always gonna think all ghosts are as sweet as you and that’s not good,” he said as he let out a laugh at the end, “I’m going to get myself killed if I try talking to a ghost that isn’t as kind and loving as you.”

Haechan went silent for a bit before continuing on. “But you would never let that happen right? You’ll be my angel watching down on me from above,” he paused as a sly smile appeared on his face, “or you’ll be my little demon waiting for me in hell.” He snicked to himself at his joke. “Ah, you’re probably trying to hit me right now. Don’t worry, I’ll do it myself.” And with that, he slapped his own cheek before telling you “I really love you and I hope you know that.”

June 6, 2020

As soon as the clock’s display changed to 12:00am, Haechan’s door burst open, revealing the other three boys with party hats atop their heads as they carried in a small cake with two candles on it, showing his new age of twenty. They began singing happy birthday and you even sang along with them, clapping your hands to the beat, even if they couldn’t hear you.

“Make a wish!” Renjun exclaimed once the song was over.

Haechan clasped his hands together as he closed his eyes for a few seconds. “Y/n, I know you’re still here. Before you go, please do this one last time for me.” He reopened his eyes and looked over at where he assumed you were and gestured towards the cake. You felt your heart swell with love as you took a final glance at him before using all your remaining energy to blow out the candle.

When the flame of the candle went out, so did your view of the world. Everything faded to black as your fire was extinguished, letting you rest in peace as Haechan’s candlelight.

A/N - as always, credit goes to @soleilhyuck​ for coming up with the idea for this fic. thank you for patiently waiting and giving lots of love to this series and please look forward to frat boy!yuta next month as well <3

[asteriismos]

Next Door Neighbor -- Bill Denbrough

Authors Note : y’all know I love bill ;)) he’s my fav and that won't change. this also randomly turned into kinda fluffy smut but oops

Warning(s) : eighteen! losers club, masturbation, fluffy smut, a little OOC for bill, yet another reason I'm going to hell

Request :

Ik you just wrote two Bill smuts, but imagine being neighbors and best friends with bill and your bedroom windows are right next to each other. and then he watches you masterbate and the next day he’s acting all weird bc he didn’t know you do things like that and he’s never thought of you in that way. and when you ask him why he’s acting so weird he just snaps and is like "you should really close your window" or something like that bc 🥵

“I’m just saying, she’s not that bad if you look at her from the side,” Richie Tozier said to Bill over the walkie talkie line. It was getting late, around 10 pm, and Richie had been on the walkie with Bill for an hour. Talking on walkie talkies was a little childish, but that was all of the losers favorite way of getting a hold of each other.

Bill laughed to himself, pulling out the chair to his desk and sitting down. “I’m going to pretend you’re not talking about Stan’s mom and politely ask you to change the subject.”

There was laughing on the other line, “Fine, Bill. Let’s see . . . Oh! How’s Y/N? She come back from her spring break trip yet?” 

Much to the losers dismay, you had gone on a spring break trip with your family all the way down to Florida. You were gone for the entire week and a half, not being able to even call them on the phone or the walkie. Apparently it was a ‘no technology’ vacation for your entire family, so none of your friends could even call you to see how you were doing.

It also sucked for Bill, because he didn’t have anyone to talk to when he was up late drawing or writing.

You had lived next to Bill for what felt like forever, your bedroom windows facing each other. Bill had put his desk to face that window so he could sit down as he spoke to you, who put your bed next to the window in your room to do the same. It was kinda depressing seeing you not there every day, your lights off and door open to your empty house. 

“I’m not sure, I haven’t checked to see if she came home yet,” Bill answered. He went to push back his curtains and open his window to see that your family was home. Your room was lit up and an open suitcase was laying on top of your bed, clothes strewn around the room. Your window was open wide just like his, but you weren't there to say hi. “Oh yeah, she’s home. But not in her room, she must’ve gone to take a shower or something.”

“Damn, you’re so lucky that you have a window that looks into a girls room,” Richie said. Bill scoffed, of course Richie would think that. 

“Actually, I don’t go looking into her room every second I get, so maybe she’s the lucky one. She could’ve gotten you as a neighbor,” Bill said, grabbing a pencil and reverting his attention to the paper that he was supposed to finish up over the break. He had left it to the last minute, like he was sure a majority of his class did as well. 

“You know I’m just joking . . .” Richie trailed off. “But you’re telling me you’ve never even peeked? Not once?”

Bill bit his lip. He really hadn’t. He respected your privacy, and didn’t want to get caught doing something like that and labeled as some kind of pervert by you. He didn’t want to make you feel creeped out or upset at him, so he just didn’t. Has he been interested before to just take one little peek? Yes, but he never acted upon it.

“Nope, not once Rich,” Bill answered. “Isn’t it time for you to have your late night talk with Eds anyways?” 

“Shit, you’re right. He’s going to think I just left him on his open line. Thanks Bill, and goodnight.” Bill muttered a small ‘mhm’ and left Richie’s line.

For the next ten minutes, Bill bullshitted his way through the closure of the essay, looking up once he heard a door open. His first instinct was to look at his own door, but it seemed to be coming from your door in your own room. You walked in, covered by only a towel. Your wet hair stuck to your shoulders, which had gotten considerably tan since he last saw you.

Bill was quick to do what he always did, shut his curtains so that you could have some privacy while changing in your room. He usually kept them closed for a good half an hour so he knew that you were finally done changing. And once his curtains were closed, he heard your towel drop to the floor.

The words Richie said to him were beginning to ring in his head. Especially the ones about just peeking.

No, that would be stupid. He couldn’t do that to you, especially considering the very definite possibility that you would catch him. You’d get so mad, and Bill didn’t want that.

Well . . . It wouldn’t hurt if he just looked for a split second, right? It would be fine, you were probably already done changing and he could then strike up a conversation with you and pretend that he didn’t just try to be a peeping tom. 

Channelling his inner ‘Richie’ or whatever you wanted to call it, Bill opened his curtain just a tiny bit, enough to see into your room with one eye. At first he didn’t see you, maybe you had gone downstairs.

But then he heard moaning.

Oh fuck.

Bill then saw you, real clear. You were laying on your bed, hand in between your thighs and moaning quietly. Your door was closed and you had surprisingly left your window open. Bill couldn’t believe what he was seeing and he was about to shut the curtain and forget this had happened completely, that was until he heard his name come from your lips. It was quiet, but it was definitely his name. You were imagining him. That his fingers were inside you and not your own.

To say that his pants tightened would be an understatement.

Bill couldn’t believe that you thought about him in that way. Sure, he had thought about that type of stuff before, and thought about the possibility of him having sex with you. But that was all just stupid stuff that his friends fed to him, that you liked him. That you would look at him with longing in the hallways at school and in the science class you had together. You always acted like you didn’t when you hung out with the entire group, but looking at the position you were in right now, it looked like that was all an act. 

Maybe he should do something about that.

~ the next morning ~

It was the last day of spring break before you went back to school for the remainder of your last high school year and you were looking forward to spending it with your best friends. You hadn’t seen them all break since you left to vacation in Florida, and you were dying to speak to them and hang out with them again.

You wanted to talk to Bill last night, but he seemed to have gone to bed early, since you called him on the walkie and he didn’t pick up. Which was strange, Bill was always the one to go to sleep in the early hours of the morning - especially during breaks from school.

Oh well, you’d see him today anyways. 

Your parents had gone out a few minutes ago for the day. They needed to get some things done on Main Street and also go shopping since you all cleaned out your fridge before going on vacation. That was fine with you, considering you didn’t plan on being home at all today. 

You walked outside of your house and looked around the street, breathing in the fresh air of Derry that you had surprisingly missed while you were away. Florida was pretty, but it didn't matter, Derry would always be in your heart. It was sad to think that soon enough you would be leaving this small town for college very soon, all of your friends would leave and go their separate ways. 

Your vision turned to Bill’s front porch where he sat, reading some kind of book. You chuckled to yourself. Typical Bill, head in a book unless you or one of the losers pulled him out of it. 

“Hey, Bill! Long time no see,” You yelled to him, making your way towards him and stopping at his steps onto the porch. He looked up and closed his book, shoulders obviously tensing up about something. He seemed to be thinking about something pretty important, especially since once he made eye contact with you his eyes widened. “Is something wrong?” You asked.

“No! I just didn't see you come up that’s all,” Bill replied, standing up to face you.

You laughed, “Okay, well, I actually was going to wait until I was with everyone, but Eds said that he needed a few extra minutes so I guess I can give you your gift now.”

Bill cleared his throat, “You got me a gift?”

“Yeah, don’t you remember asking for some shells? I swear you were the first one to ask.”

Bill breathed out, seemingly remembering that conversation he had with you after break. You squinted your eyes at him as he nodded his head. “Okay,” you said, a little weirded out by his behavior. Bill was never the one to forget, there must be something distracting him. “They’re in my room, c’mon.”

A few minutes later, Bill was standing in your room as you looked through your suitcase. You still had yet to finish unpacking, so everything was still all jumbled around in the rather large suitcase. You passed some shirts and threw some pants out, finally finding the bag that you had collected seashells in. You had spent an entire day looking for them for your friends, making sure that they were the coolest ones that you could find.

“Here,” You said, pulling out the bag and turning to face him. Bill was looking out your window, the same one that looked into his room. 

What the fuck was wrong with him? Why was he acting so goddamn weird?

“Bill, are you sure nothing’s wrong? Because your acting like I killed your cat,” You said, setting down the bag of seashells on your desk and putting your hands on your hips. “What is wrong with you today?”

“You should really close your window.”

It was a mumble, a whisper. You weren't even sure if you heard him correctly.

“What did you say?” You asked him.

“I said, Y/N, that you should really close your goddamn window.”

In a few short seconds, Bill walked over to you and put his hands on your cheeks, grabbing you and pulling you into a kiss. It shocked you, but you felt yourself melt into it. What did he mean about closing you window? You were sure that you had - oh shit.

You had forgotten to close your window last night. When you got out of the shower, when you were touching yourself.

He pushed you to walk towards your bed, falling on top of you when the back of your legs hit the bed and sent you flying backwards on top of it. Your hands lazily ran through his hair, earning a slight groan on his end. It was soft, way better than you imagined it to be. 

Because you’d imagined it more times than you were willing to admit. That hadn’t been the first time you touched yourself thinking about your next door neighbor Bill Denbrough. 

Your best friend, Bill Denbrough. 

“Wait, Bill wait,” you said, pulling away from his lips and moving your hands to cup his cheeks. “You’re my best friend. I mean, we practically grew up together.” His eyes looked straight into yours, his flushed cheeks tightening as he grinned, “Well, the other losers are your best friends as well. Do you masterbate thinking about them too? Do I need to be jealous of Eddie, or maybe Stan?” You rolled your eyes, laughing and hitting him playfully.

“No. Just you, stupid,” You answered, your own cheeks reddening at the fact that he caught you doing such a thing. You had been careless last night.

“Well then, maybe I can be more than a best friend then,” Bill stated, his lips attaching themselves to your neck, sucking lightly on the exposed skin. You gasped at the contact, your hands once again running through his hair and pulling at it. 

“What I’m trying to say, Bill, is that you’re my best friend and you don’t have to do anything,” You replied. “You don’t have to do anything just because I want to.”

“Y/N, let’s just say that you’re not the only one that’s touched themselves thinking about the person with the window next to theirs,” Bill said against your skin, his hands reaching under your shirt. His hands palmed at your breasts. “I want this just as badly as you do.”

And with that, you stopped talking and allowed him to pull off your shirt, exposing your tanned skin and white laced bra. He did the same with his shirt, pulling it off and once again allowing his hands to go to your chest.

Your lips went to his shoulder, peppering kisses along his skin, admiring the slight freckles that were there. His touches were soft, meticulously made, like he didn't want to hurt you for any reason. You internally swooned at the kindness he showed you, the love that you felt within his touch. Both of you had never seen each other in this context before, and it was a little confusing at first to think that the boy you grew up with was now in your bed. 

His left hand went from your chest and snaked down to the waistband of your pants and slipping past it when you tugged on his hair to continue. It wasn't long before he slipped a finger inside you, watching as your face twisted from admiration to lust, all from the pleasure that he was giving you. He took in every soft noise that you made, his lips coming and kissing yours once again as he slipped another finger in. His pace was beginning to pick up as well, and you couldn’t believe how much easier it felt to get to the brink of your climax when it was Bill’s hand instead of yours. 

The pit began to form in your stomach, the one that you always felt happen with yourself in over three minutes, but this time with Bill it had barely been two minutes and you already felt like you needed to release. 

Realizing this, he pulled his fingers out, licking them clean and then pulling his pants and boxers off, doing the same with your pants and underwear. 

“I want it to happen when I’m inside you, princess,” he whispered, sparing no time to push into you. You gasped at the sudden pain you felt, tears threatening to slip from your eyes and he wasn't even moving yet. Could you even take him? He wasn't all the way in yet, and you were already feeling pain like no other. 

After a few moments, the pain began to feel tolerable, it even felt a little good. 

“You can move,” you said to him, nodding and putting your hands on his shoulders. It felt as if your hands were made to be placed there, they fit so nicely on his body.

Bill began to move and it still hurt like a bitch, his hand went down and played with your clit, alleviating some of the pain and replacing it with pleasure. The shockwave of pleasure you were experiencing caused you to moan out, his own groans and noises starting to match yours. 

Your high was coming, fast. The more Bill played with your cit and the deeper he went made you spiral higher and higher.

“Fuck babe, you’re so tight. You feel so good,” Bill said, kissing you once again.

That’s when your orgasm hit, and you hit it hard. You moaned into his mouth, your hands squeezing his shoulders as you rode it out. You began to move your hips with his, causing him to go deeper than he had ever gone before. That’s when he came, moaning out your name.

He rolled off of you and laid there next to you, muttering words of praise while you both laid there. You grabbed his hand and squeezed it.

“Well, Denbrough, if that’s what is going to happen every time I keep my window open, then I may never just close it ever again.”

Tagging List :

@big-dick-denbrough

@cupidsloverr

[mistymark]

the one where you’re someone else. [jaemin] [part I]

na jaemin x reader // 2.9k words // high school!au // body switch!au

summary; in which you wake up in someone else’s body. more than once.

warnings: swearing, confusion, mention of male genitalia

requested; nope

BEEP. BEEP. BEEP. Groaning, you roll onto your side, searching blindly for the snooze button on your alarm, your head remaining on the pillow. Five more minutes. Please.

...

BEEP. BEEP. BEEP. This time you squint your eyes open, sitting up in bed and rubbing your head groggily. You wonder why you feel so tired, and the remnants of your dream drift slowly into your mind.

Scenes flash through your mind in the same frightening way you imagine one would see highlights of their life before they die. The hallway of a high school that is not your own, a bright-eyed boy grinning at you before he sprints away from you, a test that you had definitely not prepared for, a cute café and delicious treats, the strange feeling of not recognising yourself in the mirror...

“Y/n!” A voice calls for you from the kitchen, and you hastily slip on a pair of slippers and make your way through the house in search of breakfast. A small frown sits on your mother’s face as she finishes making her own breakfast, “Two days in a row you haven’t been awake on time. Are you sure you’re getting enough sleep? Maybe you should go to sleep early tonight.”

“I’m fine, Mum,” you roll your eyes as she presses the back of her hand against your forehead.

“This is so unusual for you,” she mumbles, almost to herself. When you push her hand away to reach for the juice, she goes back to her breakfast, momentarily forgetting about the newspaper she had just been reading sitting beside her. “Yesterday I was starting to wonder if you’d had some kind of mental breakdown.” She looks up at you then, and you furrow your eyebrows in confusion; you’d been exactly the same yesterday, only less tired.

“It’s… been an exhausting week,” you try to find an explanation. She seems satisfied with the answer. Looking at the time, you quickly stand up to rush to your room, “Shit. I need to get ready for school.”

You busy yourself with getting ready for school, only a little annoyed at yourself for not having packed your bag last night, the simple disruption to your morning routine adding a few minutes to your normal departure time. You were sure you’d packed it last night, but your belongings scattered around your room clearly disagreed. Quickly sliding your binders, books and laptop into your backpack, you rushed around your room. Luckily, you didn’t miss the bus.

“Y/n!” Your best friend, Nina, sees you shortly after you enter the front doors of your school. Her excitement to see you is shown in the way she smiles at you, though it shortly changes to a small frown as she looks you up and down. “How are you feeling?”

“Tired,” you answer honestly, shying away from her assessing gaze. Her eyes scan your face.

“Nina, would you quit it?” Seungmin laughs, giving her a slight push. You hadn’t even noticed him walking up to the two of you. She stumbles, her eyes moving from you to him, narrowing. “She’s fine,” he states, turning to you now.

“You were acting so weird yesterday,” she stresses to you, still looking at you tentatively as if she expected you to spontaneously combust any second.

“What?” You frown in confusion at them, wondering why they were being so dramatic. Maybe a bad test result made you cry yesterday, but that wasn’t exactly out of the ordinary for you. Opening your locker, you tear your gaze from your friends in favour of focusing on piling your books onto the shelf. From the corner of your eye, you can tell they’re still watching you wearily. “Alright, spill it. What’s up?”

“You…” Nina struggles to find the words.

“It was like you were a different person,” Seungmin finally says. “You kept forgetting who you were, where you were, what you were supposed to be doing. We thought you had amnesia or something.”

Furrowing your eyebrows, you look between them again, “You’re kidding, right?” You think back to yesterday – Tuesday – and can’t remember anything out of the ordinary.

“No, Y/n, we’re dead serious,” Nina responds, eyeing you again.

“I don’t know what’s going on with you guys but I have a class to get to. Mrs Kim has a paper for me,” you grab your history books and close your locker.

Nina looks at Seungmin confusedly, “Don’t you have history third period?” He nods. She turns to you again, “Y/n, history is third period. We have chemistry first.”

“We always have history first on a Wednesday,” you smile, rolling your eyes. “Come on, guys, you know I memorised my schedule on the first day.”

There’s silence, before Seungmin grabs his phone from his pocket, pressing the button so the screen lights up and dangles it in front of your face, “Yeah, well, it’s Thursday, so history is third.”

The bell rings before you can dispute this. Even though, of course, what could you say? It was Thursday – your own phone said so, so they couldn’t be messing with you. How could it be that a whole day had slipped from your memory?

You drift between classes in a confused daze, only loosely focusing on the words of your teachers and peers, slowly writing half-finished notes and barely registering when the teacher was giving you homework.

Your focus was primarily on Wednesday – yesterday – and why you couldn’t remember anything. There were plenty of memorable things that happened on Wednesdays – you had gym class, your usual ice cream date with Nina and Seungmin, work. Yet, you couldn’t remember any of them.

“Did I hit my head yesterday? I can’t remember anything at all,” you frown, whispering to Seungmin while Mrs Kim drones on about the cold war.

“Maybe,” he tries to suppress a giggle. “You sure were acting like you did.”

Yawning, you turn over the page of notes you were adding to, revealing a page of messily handwritten notes that definitely wasn’t done by you. The handwriting, for starters, was a messy scrawl that frequently sloped in a downwards direction and overstepped the neatly printed lines on the page. Completely done in black ink, without any highlighting or colour coding the rest of your notes had, you dismissed it as Seungmin writing in your book.

But Seungmin used blue ink almost religiously, and the handwriting didn’t match his. Why would Seungmin write ‘who am i?’ over and over in my book?

Your name was scrawled in the corners of the pages, as if you had forgotten it and needed the reminder.

“Y/n,” you were snapped out of your thoughts by Mrs Kim, who was handing out a worksheet. She smiles at you, “Ah, so you remember your name today?” Seungmin snickers beside you and you elbow him swiftly, effectively shutting him up. “Did you read my notes on your essay?”

You blush, embarrassed and guilty, “No, I’m sorry. I haven’t had the ti-“

Mrs Kim gives you a warm smile, “That’s okay. Let me know when you have.” She walks away, moving on to another student.

Seungmin leans closer to you, his eyes remaining on the teacher, “I’m surprised she didn’t mention the fact that you dodged her yesterday after class.”

“Huh?”

“She wanted to talk to you about the notes on your essay, and you completely ran out! Not as if you had any place to be; Mr Park was late to calculus again.”

“Oh. Oh, right,” you mutter, lowering your chin to the desk.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“Where the fuck is my essay?” You groan in frustration. Hyunjin, the poor soul whose locker is right beside yours, startles at your sudden outburst.

“Are you okay?” He shuts the door of his locker gently, leaning against it as he looks you up and down, concern on his face.

“Mrs Kim gave me an essay yesterday and I must’ve misplaced it.” Your locker isn’t exactly messy, so there are very few loose papers in there. A quick flick through the few documents stashed haphazardly in your locker proved it wasn’t in there.

“Don’t you have some intense filing system?” His eyes flicker down to the binder in your hand, dividers neatly sectioning off different parts. “Is it not in there?”

“If it were in here, I wouldn’t be searching my locker,” you mumble sadly. His eyes widen.

“Right... Seungmin has history with you, right?” Hyunjin’s attention shifts to something behind you, and he waves a hand, gesturing for someone to come over. “Hey, Seungmin!”

“Hey, dude,” Seungmin greets. “What’s up?”

“Y/n is missing a history essay,” Hyunjin helpfully explains. When Seungmin’s eyebrows furrow in thought, Hyunjin takes it as an opportunity to leave, and quickly departs down the hallway in search of his own friends.

“Didn’t you throw it away?”

“I don’t throw away my essays.”

“I’m pretty sure you did. After you walked out yesterday. I saw you put something in the bin,” his eyes flicker to yours. “I just assumed it was rubbish.”

You groan, pressing your forehead against Hyunjin’s locker, whining, “No.”

“I’m sure Mrs Kim would redo her notes if you asked her. You typed it, didn’t you? Just reprint it.”

“Yeah, I guess so,” you pout. He smiles warmly at you.

“You’ll be fine, Y/n,” Seungmin rests a hand on your shoulder, attempting to steer you away from the row of lockers and towards the cafeteria, closing your locker door with his foot. “But now, lunch.”

******************************************************************************************

The rest of the day flies by and, before you know it, you’re in Seungmin’s car as he drives you home. The town rushes past you in a flurry of houses and small grocery stores, drive thru restaurants and gas stations, and you struggle to stay awake.

“Hey, sleepy head, you’re home,” Seungmin tries to suppress his laughter, giving you a light nudge. “Get out of my car.”

Groaning, you slump away from the door, clumsily finding the door handle and almost falling out of the car, “Fine! I’ll see you tomorrow, assface.”

“Yeah,” he smiles warmly. “See you then.”

The hours of the evening are mostly taken up with homework, as you try and get as much done as possible before the weekend. As it steadily approaches midnight, you find youself getting more and more tired, eventually getting to the point where you can’t keep your eyes open anymore. And from there, darkness consumes you.

******************************************************************************************

RING! RING! RING! The alarm is loud and so annoying. You wonder why you chose to wake up to this, rather than your usual alarm, and turn to your side, fumbling around for the snooze button, your eyes still shut tight from exhaustion. Your eyes open when instead of hitting your bedside table or your alarm, your hand slams into a wall, eliciting a loud grunt from your mouth. For a second, you’re shocked at how deep your voice sounds, but your shock turns to fear when you realise you’re not in your bedroom.

You’re in a bedroom, but it’s certainly not your own. The walls are white, covered in posters and photos and a huge wall hanging that has plants growing out of small pots, leaves cascading down the wall. It’s homely, cute, but not where you expected to wake up – and due to that last fact, horrifying.

You clamber out of bed in search for your clothes, your shoes, your bag, anything that belongs to you. Unable to recall when or how you got here, you wonder if you’re hungover. But you didn’t go out last night - on a Thursday - you didn’t drink last night, and your head isn’t at all sore. Despite the lack of a headache, you still reach a hand up to your head, rubbing it. Your eyes widen at your hair – well, the lack of hair. It’s short, and you can feel the way it’s sticking up in all directions from sleep.

You rush to the mirror in the corner of the room, screaming when you realise you don’t look at all like how you normally look, and screaming louder when you realise your voice is so deep.

You’re a boy.

Ew, you think.

Wait, you look in the mirror. This is some crazy ass dream.

You take a look around the room, seeing the face in the mirror in the photographs, recognising the familiar brown hair and sparkling eyes. Reaching a hand up to touch your face, you push and pull the skin, watching it move in the mirror. You almost expected it to stay rigid, as if you were wearing a mask. This is so weird.

“Jaemin! Are you getting ready for school? Jeno’s going to be here in any minute!” A female voice calls from – presumably – downstairs, and you quickly look around the room. A uniform is hanging on the back of the door – one you don’t recognise – and you move to get changed, though something stops you.

You wait a second before responding, in case the voice was calling to someone in the house. When no one responds, you take a leap of faith, “Yeah! I’m getting dressed now!”

You look down briefly at the cold grey pyjama pants you’re – Jaemin’s – currently wearing, and take a deep breath, clenching your eyes shut as you pull the material down. I hate this. I hate this. I hate this.

You decide you have to open your eyes when you pull the school shorts on backwards (and you can feel that it’s backwards in ways you could never begin to explain as a girl) and try your hardest to think about anything else. You find the bathroom, which was thankfully located opposite the bedroom, and go about your normal routine as best you can.

The school bag slumped against the wall is empty, and you look around the desk for anything you might have to take with you, packing a few notebooks, a laptop, a pencil case (if you could call it that – it appeared to be a plastic bag with a few pens in it) and a water bottle.

“Hey, sweetie,” a beautiful woman greets you as you bound into the kitchen with a lot of energy. Why am I so hyper?

“Hey… Mum?” You cringe as the greeting comes out more like a question, hiding your face in the fridge.

Luckily, she just laughs. “I know, I know, I’m not normally in the kitchen.” She notices the way you scan the fridge, “Hey! Aren’t you and Jeno going to get food before school?”

You freeze, “Oh, um, yeah. We are. I’m just… browsing.”

“Okay, well, I’ll see you tonight, Jaem. Have a good day at school,” she kisses you on the top of the head, swiping her hand through your hair before leaving. You try your best to fix it, letting it flop down messily over your forehead.

Spotting an apple and a brown banana in a cracked dish on the counter, you slide the apple into your backpack and begin zipping it up when you hear a honk outside that almost makes you drop everything. You stop to listen, and two more honks follow. Confused, you wait. There’s the familiar sound of a car door slamming shut, and then you hear footprints on the front porch of the house. The doorbell rings.

The doorbell is monotonous, and you don’t wait for it to finish ringing before you pull the door open, instantly meeting the soft face of a boy your age, a confused look on his face. You’ve seen him somewhere, but you can’t place him. “Dude, I honked, like, three times. What’s going on?”

“Oh,” you say, dumbly. You surpise yourself by sounding even dumber with the question that follows, “Jeno?”

“Yeah?” His eyebrows draw nearer as he frowns at you. “Are you playing that ‘I don’t know who I am’ joke again?”

You force out a laugh, “No, I’m just messing with you.” You give him a light punch on the arm, trying to act like every douchebag guy you’ve seen in a high school movie. It’s tragic that you suddenly can’t recall how real boys act. “Let’s go,” you push past him, sighing in a way that makes it seem like he’s the one acting weird and not yourself.

His eyebrows raise in surprise, but then he shrugs and heads back to his car, waiting for you to finish locking the house (after much confusion over which key it is).

Once you’re in the car, you pull out the phone that had been sitting beside the bed you’d woken up in and thought thankfully that there was a finger-print unlock feature. Quickly scanning through a few messages, you learnt that Jeno was probably Jaemin’s best friend - and you were in a few group chats; ‘the Bros’, ‘chemistry lab group’, ‘mark’s birthday plans’, ‘Mum & Dad’, and a few others.

“So, I was thinking, Hyuck’s having a party at his place tonight, right?” Jeno begins talking, and once you realise you’re going to have to go to this party, too. “Hyunjin is coming, and he’s bringing a few girls from his school – you know, that guy we versed in lacrosse a few weeks ago? His parents know my parents and – whatever, it’s not important. He’s bringing a few girls and I’m hoping that girl from the game is- Hey! Are you even listening?” Jeno’s eyes flit between you and the road, and you turn to him.

“Yeah, yeah, sorry. Did you ask him?” You’re dying to know if he’s talking about the Hyunjin you know – the real you knows – but you’re too self-conscious to ask too many questions, wanting to just get through the day with as little confusion as possible.

“Nah, I don’t really know the guy. He’s friends with Hyuck, though, I think, so maybe he’ll know.”

“Can you ask Yuck today?”

Jeno laughs, “Are you bringing back his middle school nickname? He’s gonna hate you so much for that. But I will, yeah. We have PE together today.”

He pulls into the parking lot of the school, and you vaguely recognise the school, maybe from posters or newspaper adverts, but you’re glad Jeno drove you because at least now you have someone to follow. And, you were unsure whether you’d been able to get to school without him.

You trail after Jeno through the main doors, but he clearly sees someone he knows, because he takes one look back at you before he runs off to catch them, “Catch you later, yeah?”

And it’s right then that it clicks; you know exactly where you’d seen him before: in your dream. You’d been here before. You’d seen him before. You’d been Jaemin before.

Fuck.

[candlelight27]

Chapter 5: This Moment Lost in Time

Summary: Sylvain has been ignoring you since you met him. You had been in love with him since you met him. College is about to offer you a fresh start. New academic year, new life. You were ready to forget him. But fate seems to have other plans… (COLLEGE AU)

Series: Seeking Your Warmth If Only For A Day

Warnings: BLOOD, game spoilers and felony (don’t steal, kids)

Pairings: Sylvain Jose Gautier x Female Reader

Word Count: 5143

AO3: This Moment Lost in Time

A/N:  Thanks to @galamixx and their help!!! If you like this chapter, please consider commenting. My inbox is always open too, for suggestiong or just to chat! :)

You put a hesitant foot in Sylvain’s room, walking right behind him as he guided you. It was an ample space and it had a window that let the sunshine inside in the morning. The decoration was quite simple. The bed, placed under the window, was covered in white linen, and the walls were bare, without any pictures or posters. Its appearance broke your every expectation of what you had thought his room would be like.

You were surprised you couldn’t find anything that screamed ‘Sylvain lives here’, or any hint at all of his renowned affairs. You chastised yourself for thinking he’d have a box filled with panties he had stolen, or obscene magazines thrown around. He was now a close friend – perhaps something more, but your brain was trying to avoid that subject at the moment – so you’d have to stop assuming things about him. Especially regarding the high number of misconceptions you’ve had about him. Yet the truth was that you would have never suspected that he lived in such an austere manner. You began to understand how he got along with Dimitri so well.

Despite the absence of luxuries, there was something that caught your eye: the quantity of books he owned. His desk and shelves were crammed, and there were even a few piles over the floor. You identified in a glance some history titles, as well as fiction and philosophical essays. It was quite the collection for someone most people considered an airhead – a thought that made you slightly angry at those people.

“Sit wherever you want,” Sylvain commented. You sat on the bed, while he moved to take a seat on the chair in front of his desk. He carefully placed on the floor a board of chess, trying not to move any pieces. It was incomplete, with only a handful of blacks and whites. You wondered if Sylvain was trying to solve one of those problems that he used to do with Claude back in high school. Afterwards, Sylvain placed his hands behind his head and leant back. You looked around nervous, absentmindedly caressing the bed dressing with your fingertips, avoiding by all means ogling him.

“You have a nice room,” you said. This was awkward, and you didn’t know what to say. You felt once again you were invading his privacy by simply being there. And you were on his bed, where he slept. It felt very personal, and you were not sure if it was your place to be there.

“Not what you expected for someone like me, right?”, he hummed. You feared that he actually was able to read your mind after that line.

“How is Glenn?”, you changed the subject, hoping Sylvain wouldn’t notice.

“Oh, he’s fine! He’s conscious and recovering. Apparently, when he was going to work, a dog crossed the road and he crashed the car avoiding it.” Sylvain drew out a breath. “Honestly, I’m so relieved he’s alive.”

“That gives us time to proceed with our plan. But then again, Flayn is onto whatever is happening. It’s not just paranoia, there must be a clue somewhere,” you reflected.

You had a few days to come to terms with Sylvain’s crazy theories after that encounter with Flayn at the hospital. As if fate had been mocking you, you had even more visions of your classmates in times of war, which only reinforced Sylvain’s words. You started writing down the smallest details you could recall, hoping they’d be of help to clarify something. Anything. And you realised some names kept appearing time after time.

“I wanted to show you a few things,” Sylvain said. He turned around to look at the books opened on his desk. He moved a couple of volumes and used papers around until he chose one. The sound of papers being flipped frantically came from behind you. “Here it is!”

He stood up and gave it to you, waiting a minute for you to inspect it thoroughly.

“So?” He insisted. Sylvain was eager to know your opinion. “What do you think?”

“It’s…” you opened your mouth.

“Awfully familiar?”, he offered.

“Yes”, you nodded.

It was an ancient copy of Seiros’ precepts. There you could see a coloured engraving that displayed Saint Seiros, who had an eerie resemblance to Rhea, officially in charge of Garreg Mach High School and the cathedral annexed to it. Her light green hair, her bright and big eyes, her figure. Everything was exactly the same. She had a serene countenance, and she was surrounded by dragons. Once, you were taught that they represented the strength of Seiros and the four saints, but they had so many details, they looked real.

“And that’s not the only thing!” Sylvain added before you could finish examining it. He passed you another book. “This one is Linhardt’s, but he lent it to me indefinitely. He knows a lot about Saint Cethleann, he’s investigating her figure and plans to do a PhD.”

“What am I looking for?”, you asked, tracing the index with your finger.

“Look at the pictures first. There are a couple of engravings and drawings. Just look at any.”

You did as he told you. A chill ran down your spine. 

“This is Flayn,” you babbled, totally astonished. “But, like, it’s clearly Flayn.”

“Yes!” Sylvain was thrilled.

“They have the same face,” you repeated. You looked at the bottom of the page, where a footnote was written, and read it out loud. “‘Saint Cethleann was said to possess a kind heart and devoted her life to helping others in need. That’s why she developed an interest in medicine, and she is the patron saint of those who practice the art of healing. She healed countless wounded in her life, sparking the faith in those who met her.’ Is this real?” He nodded, an amused expression decorating his face. He seemed entertained by your reaction. “It looks like a set up.”

“It’s weird that all the pieces fit together as we go, right?”, Sylvain agreed.  

“If everything is so evident, why hasn’t anyone found out anything yet?”, you exclaimed exasperated.

“We’ve gone over that before,” he sat next to you on the bed. He crossed one of his legs and was careful not to touch you with any part of his body. After all, you were not the only one self-conscious about this meeting. He had been feeling vulnerable ever since he went all in with you – it was easy to recognise.

You wanted to tell him that it was okay to have physical contact and get close to you. And that you had similar feelings for him. But neither of you had said anything after his speech, and your conversations hadn’t got that way any other time. And now it seemed that you had lost your opportunity to give him an answer; it seemed forgotten and entombed.

“Yeah, yeah. Everyone has bigger problems. Except us, apparently”, you said ironically.

“I have plenty of problems”, he said with fake seriousness.

“Oh?”, you mocked him. “I’ve never noticed.”

“One of them is no one takes me seriously”, he smirked. You felt a pang of guilt on your stomach and averted your gaze towards the book. It was shameful to admit, but you had done it several times in the past. You didn’t know he resented it.

“I wanted to try something,” Sylvain said out loud, demanding your attention. He looked flushed, but you dismissed the thought.

That’s when you remembered his cryptic messages earlier.

Sylvain (13:25): I might have come up with a thing that can be useful 😊.

Sylvain (13:25): Come home whenever you want, I’ll be here.

He hadn’t texted you as regularly as he did during the previous days, thus when his icon popped up on the screen of your phone, your heart fluttered in your chest. Should you go right away? Should you wait? There were things unsaid between you, but you had been dying to spend time with your favourite redhead. You convinced yourself that curiosity was playing a big part in your decision, and not your own emotions, so immediately answered affirmatively to his proposition.

“Yes, you mentioned that before.” You looked at him in the eye. He was blushing, you had no doubts now. And it seemed that he was out of character, because who would have thought Sylvain would be ashamed at all flirting? “What’s wrong?”

“You might not like my methods,” he shrugged.

“Sylvain!” you sighed, annoyed. “We’re way past your mysterious phase! Just tell me!”

“No need to get mad, darling,” he laughed. Then, Sylvain coughed and recomposed himself. “I thought that maybe we could trigger memories so we can investigate them. Find a common pattern.”

“Okay.”

“What was the last thing you dreamt?” He inquired carefully. Sylvain knew that some dreams were… Unfavorable.

“That horrible nightmare where I bury an axe in your chest”, you said. It made you want to cry, just the mere mention of it. Such a brutal act, why would it have happened?

“Ah, yes. That one”, he made a disgusted gesture. “You could’ve picked a nicer one.”

“How are we going to trigger the memories?”, you questioned him.

“By touching,” Sylvain answered. You raised your eyebrows. “W-Wait, not in that way!”, he stuttered while waving his arms around, as if to clear the atmosphere. Hewas trying his best to correct his accidental innuendo. “We can hold our hands, or just bump our shoulders together? We don’t have to, of course, but–”

“Sylvain, relax. I don’t mind”, you took his hand in yours to downplay the issue. That warmth that had become familiar spread throughout your skin. “Besides, it’s a good idea. It’s worked before.”

“But it’s not working now,” Sylvain complained.

“What did you think that was going to happen? Fireworks and a narrated episode of the battle of Garreg Mach?” You mocked, while he simply smirked.

The situation made your heart fly. The light outside was fading, dying the room of orange and gold. Everything surrounding you belonged to Sylvain, and you were on his bed, holding his hand in yours. It was special. A great fluttery feeling was forming in your stomach, one that made you light in the head and giggly. You shifted your body around awkwardly, without changing your position, and his grip tightened.

You noticed the muscles in his arm flexing, and his palm becoming sweaty.

“It���s not working…”, Sylvain lamented again.

“Close your eyes. Let’s focus on that memory together,” you instructed, half hoping it would work, half hoping it would prevent him from releasing your hand.

You let your eyes close. Every sensation became sharper. His touch, his presence, his smell. Everything had a distinct scent, the detergent of his clothes, his cologne, his books. - ‘Put yourself together!’ you scolded yourself and tried to envision your memory instead of focusing on Sylvain.

The large field of Gronder; the confusion of bodies, some dead, some alive; the  fresh blood; Sylvain’s horrid expression.

And, as if it was magic, it worked. You could vividly see it. The world surrounding you disappeared, and you were immersed in that moment lost in time.

The heat was suffocating, and so was the odour of burnt bodies and death. The podium where the archers had been trying to knock down the wyverns and pegasi had suddenly burned when the infantry had reached it. Many had died from all three parties: Dimitri’s, Edelgard’s and Claude’s. The flames were consuming everything on your left. Your arms stung out of tiredness, for you couldn’t even remember how long you had been there, fighting enemies.

Suddenly, you saw Sylvain. His horse was nowhere to be seen, and it saddened you. It was probably dead, too. A bad omen. You thought of the times he had insisted you rode with him, and the few times you accepted. Or when he stayed overtime to take care of the mount. You shook your head: he was now your enemy, and you had to kill him. Tears filled your eyes, and you voiced all the curses you could think of. How had everything turned into this? Where did it go wrong?

Sylvain was not aware that you were there. You traced his direction with your eyes. Was he escaping the fire? You hoped he was fleeing, but you knew him like the back of your hand. He had sworn loyalty to Dimitri and he wouldn’t leave him behind. Never. You looked far beyond.

When the realisation hit you, you started running.

He was heading towards Claude, who wasn’t riding his wyvern. Instead, he was supporting the infantry on the right flank with a sword and his bow. It was being effective in providing a much needed morale boost, but it wasn’t his brightest move. Damn him for not knowing how to keep himself safe.

Your gaze fell upon Byleth, who in this world had long hair, cuter clothes and was Jeralt’s daughter instead of his son. She had advanced more, leading the knights fighting the Adrestian forces, so she wasn’t going to save Claude, as she always did. Not this time, when she was risking her neck. You panicked, thinking about what disaster would happen if the heir to the Alliance, the only nation fighting actively against the Adrestian invasion, fell in battle.

You were almost there, axe in hand.

“Claude!”, you shouted. The Golden Deer leader realised Sylvain was about to stab him in the back, but dodged the hit just in time. Claude rolled on his side, while Sylvain’s lance got stuck in the ground.

You took advantage of this chance, arriving just a few seconds later, and with a swing of your weapon you broke the handle of his weapon in two. Moving with the momentum, your propelled the edge of the axe to Sylvain’s body. You contained your breath, wishing he would move away, that he’d escape. That you’d see him alive in the next battle, even if it meant going through another hell. Maybe you’d both survive, overcome your differences. But he didn’t move away. He stayed in place.

A lost arrow pierced your thigh. Even if you didn’t feel it at all thanks to the adrenaline pumping through your blood, it made you face reality.

Sylvain, disarmed, was on the other side of your weapon. You let go of the handle. It had cracked his armour, and his hot blood was flowing down. Sylvain fell to his knees, his face completely white.

“I’m sorry, Sylvain...” you said, as you fell backwards, unable to use your right leg due to the deep wound. He smiled but stayed completely still. Life was slowly escaping his body. You threw up on your side.

“Ignatz! Cover me!”, you heard Claude shouting. It seemed distant, while in reality he was too close. He was shouting your name, too, but your gaze was fixed on Sylvain. You couldn’t speak or move. Claude lifted you and placed you in his arms, carrying you somewhere safe. Sylvain was still alive, yet immobile. You couldn’t help thinking about him. Why was no one helping him? Is he going to die alone on the battlefield? Claude’s voice, assuring you that you were going to be alright, started to fade and his face was getting blurry…

 “Are you okay!?” Sylvain was shaking your shoulder. You were laid down on his bed and he was above you.

“Yes”, you answered, eyes open wide. You got up, and you returned to the position you had been in before on Sylvain’s bed. “What happened?”

“You’ve been gone for 5 minutes. As in, eyes opened, not responding to anything. I was about to call an ambulance.” Sylvain inspected you closely, quite worried. You could sense his breath on your skin.

“I’m fine”, you whispered, still a bit disoriented and dizzy.

“Are you sure?”

You nodded.

“Sylvain,” you called his name, his hand still on your shoulder. “What happened after you killed me? Did you see that?” Why did you want to know?

“Ah, yes. Ferdinand killed me afterwards”, he groaned. “He was avenging your death…”

“Typical of him. I’ll make sure to thank him, though. It was very thoughtful,” you joked. “What about Claude? And Dimitri?”

“They were dead too. Fallen in combat,” he said with an unsure voice. “Edelgard was the one reigning after that, or so I’ve thought. It makes sense.”

“I recall professor Byleth there, behind me. He was fighting side by side with Edelgard. They must have won.” You agreed with a gesture. “What about when we married? Was Byleth there?”

“Yes. Next to Dimitri. I think they got married too. That time, the Holy Kingdom of Faerghus got the victory.” He crossed his arms, but his leg was touching yours. “What are you implying?”

“I killed you to protect Claude”, you started. The redhead knitted his brows.

“We already know that,” Sylvain commented, annoyed.

“Why are you so irritated?” You got confused why he was hasty upon mentioning Claude, until a certain thought crossed your mind. 

“No reason, just that the last thing I got to see was you in the arms of Claude.” He sighed. A smile found its way on your lips, an eyebrow raising.

“Are you jealous?” You teased him.

“Then, you got together with Claude after that. He commented something once about it,” Sylvain continued, ignoring your question. “Okay, keep going. What are you trying to say?”

“The war is between the three countries of the continent of Fódlan. And the respective leaders of each are, coincidentally, the leaders of each House at Garreg Mach – former monastery, currently a high school.” He nodded, prompting you to carry on. “When I killed you, Claude was the winner. The other countries fell and the Alliance took over. And Byleth was at his side. The same happened with Edelgard and Dimitri respectively, right? So that might indicate that Byleth is the deciding piece of the board. Depending on what side he-”, you remembered how Byleth had different appearances, “-He, she, or they pick, the events change and makes their side win the war and, ultimately, take control of Fódlan.”

“And how did that occur to you?”, he looked concerned. “It’s plausible. I’m not questioning you, but it’s quite twisted.”

“Because they are the only thing that actually changes in the war. Everything seems the same until Byleth arrives.”

“Well, you changed from Houses all the time,” Sylvain pointed out.

“Every time, to join Byleth’s class. Don’t you see it?” You tried to convince him.

“It seems logical to think that Byleth has something to do with it but we can’t be sure…”

“It’s a hunch, Sylvain,” you explained. “I’m sure we have to talk to Byleth. We will find something. This time, when I saw Byleth fighting, something clicked.”

Sylvain hugged you without a warning. He buried his head on the crook of your neck and enclosed you in his arms. Your hands rested against his chest, you trapped and unable to make a single move. The warmth surrounding you felt so warm, so comforting. Everything was going to be okay, Sylvain was there, and he won’t be gone this time.

“I’m scared that this will lead to a dead-end street. But… at last we’ve found a clue. I’ve been waiting for this forever…” He said with a strained tone. Sylvain’s voice was quiet. He didn’t want to let you go.

“It’s thanks to all your work, Sylvain. Everything you wrote was very useful…” You smiled, leaning into his embrace, almost melting. “You had noticed too Byleth was an important factor–”

“I’m just really happy you’re here with me. That you haven’t chosen Claude or Edelgard over me this time.” He chuckled, trying to shoo away the remainders of sadness. “Not gonna lie here, I’m extremely happy you didn’t choose Claude. That bastard.”

“Hey,” you reprimanded him. “Claude is nice. It’s not his fault we’re in this mess.”

“Well, he took you away from me once”, Sylvain said as he hugged you closer. “Have I told you that you married him?”

“What did you want me to do? You were dead!” You chuckled. It was weird to talk so lightly about it, but Sylvain became more comfortable the less relevant it felt. “This feels nice…”, you muttered, turning your face to kiss the top of his head. His red hair was soft, and it smelt of citrus. “So now we’re on hugging terms?”

“Yes”, Sylvain affirmed. “I might never let you go now that we crossed that line.”

“I wouldn’t mind…”

But a loud gasp resounded behind you. The tender moment that you wished would last forever was suddenly replaced with surprise.

“I’m so sorry Sylvain!” A voice shouted, someone that you identified as Dimitri. He closed the door with a slam.

Sylvain moved away, averting his eyes. His cheeks were blushing, and your own were warm too.

“I’m going to explain to Dimitri that we weren’t doing anything weird, okay?”, he scratched his head, again, and you recognised it as a gesture he made when he felt awkward. Little by little, you had been learning his non-verbal language. “I don’t want him traumatized for all his life.” You giggled.

“Does it make you nervous that Dimitri thinks we’re banging? He only saw us hugging,” You questioned daringly.

“Shut up”, he flashed his handsome smile. Flirting was an art he had mastered, and he felt confident with it. “And say that you’re staying for dinner, instead.”

“Not if you’re cooking instant noodles, Sylvain”, you narrowed your eyes. “That’s not a real dinner. You won’t trick me – I’ve seen all the packages in the cupboards.”

“First, we’re in college, and everything’s valid.” He stood up with a flourish. “Second, Dimitri had gone to the supermarket, so he’s the one cooking. It relaxes him.”

“Okay, he cooks real food. I’m staying then.”

“Perfect.” Sylvain winked, as he ran out of the room. His voice could be heard all over the apartment, and Dimitri was still stuttering. You smiled to yourself and took out your phone and opened the app to write an email.

[From: YOU - To: beisner@gmuniversity.fe]

Dear Professor Eisner,

I hope everything is fine.

Sylvain Jose Gautier and I are having a few questions regarding the bibliography of our project. We’d like to meet you next week to settle the matter and discuss some work.

Thank you very much.

“I’ve never skipped classes legally before”, commented Sylvain casually.

You two were navigating the corridors of the building where teachers had their offices. Everything was dull and generic, except for the occasional cabinets that displayed trophies and nameplates that students and professors had earned long ago.

“That’s why you were in detention all the time”, you reminded him.

“It was intentional. I wanted to strengthen my relationship with Seteth”, he said, laughing. You had to give in and laugh too, not only because he was actually funny, but because his humour was contagious. You couldn’t help but mirror it.

You eyed him from head to toe. Your companion was wearing a pair of black jeans and a white t-shirt. He had a dark-grey, almost black blazer with rolled up sleeves on due to the chilliness in the air. His attire rang a bell.

“Why are you dressing like we did in the Monastery?” You wondered out loud to him.

“Because I’m pretty hot in black and white”, Sylvain chuckled in delight with a deep and sexy tone. He was right. You could outline with a glance his body, which was pretty well built. Of course, you did everything you could to deny it, so you put on your best deadpan face. “Okay, okay. I think it might make Byleth nervous.”

“Now that’s a joke,” you remarked. “Byleth barely showed any emotion during a war. Do you think it takes so little to irk him?”

“You might be right,” he conceded.

“Here!” You grabbed Sylvain’s sleeve, bringing him back after he walked past the correct door.

“The nameplate says Dr. Gloucester. Do you need your eyes checked?” Sylvain emphasized.

“Dr. Gloucester retired, and they gave his office to Byleth. He told us the first day! What were you doing?”

“Okay, okay,” he rolled his light brown eyes. “You knock.”

“What are you? Five?” You said while hitting the door with your knuckles.

“Come in,” Byleth’s voice came from the interior of the office.

You opened the door to see your professor encircled by lots of papers. No one can escape bureaucracy.

You stopped in the middle of the room. Right then, you felt an extraordinary sense of existence. As if all the years that had passed before your adventures with Sylvain were but a mere dream and your consciousness had come back to you a few weeks ago. You were sure that Byleth’s presence was having its own influence on you, now that you had regained a good number of your forgotten memories. There was a strange energy in the atmosphere.

Now that you considered it, this was just like that sweet time you spent at Garreg Mach Monastery. Wandering around to avoid boredom with Sylvain and finding much more than just entertainment, following Byleth around to ask all kinds of questions, spending the big seasonal events with your friends… That was what happiness looked like to you.

“You can take a seat,” Byleth said.

“Ah, yes, thank you.” You muttered. Sylvain was next to you in those uncomfortable iron chairs your university loved buying.

“What can I help you with?” He asked, ever so willing to help, yet enigmatic.

“Ah, we have a basic bibliography for the Crescent Moon War, but we’re lacking a few good articles in Loog’s biography”, Sylvain started, replaying the topics you had agreed on. “We don’t know if the authors are reliable.”

“I can take a look at those names”, Byleth smiled. “And I have a few books you could use.”

“That’d be great!”, you cheered with a fake façade. You had to admit, it was quite fun to play spies.

“They’re on that bookcase”, your professor pointed at the one right on your side. You stood up and started looking around.

“I had a question on Klaus I, that king of Faerghus, as well. What was the role he played in…”, Sylvain asked, so serious and well versed in the matter.

You disconnected from the conversation, turning to read the titles on the wall. You took a thick, blue book filled with dust, pretending it caught your interest. Then another black volume, with leather covers and golden letters. You kept investigating, about the Almyran invasion; the formation of the Academy of Garreg Mach, the base of your own high school; history of the Adrestian Empire… Nothing past the year 1000. It was quite suspicious.

You turned around, and Byleth was drawing a diagram for a focused Sylvain, who was all nods and questions. They couldn’t see you anymore, or at least it seemed so. Out of the corner of your eye, on the closest end of the professor’s large mahogany desk, you saw a bunch of letters. Discreetly, you looked up the sender. Curly letters with the address of Rhea were written there, right from the Cathedral.

You made sure Byleth’s vision was blocked by a stack of folders. With decision and a steady hand, you took the most recent one and hid it under your clothes. Desperate situations call for desperate measures, right? Besides, it wasn’t exactly stealing, and you had already made an excuse. ‘It got misplaced when I took the books you lent me, professor,’ you heard yourself say in your head. 

“Is there anything else you need?” Byleth said, when his discussion with Sylvain was done. He clearly intended for you to leave, as it was getting late.

“No, we were going away now,” Sylvain confirmed, walking towards the door. You followed him. Yet you grew bold.

“Can I ask just one more thing?” You said to the professor right before exiting.

“Of course.” The man with the dark blue hair.

“I can’t seem to find how the Crescent Moon War influenced the later war of 1180,” you stated.

Byleth remained silent for a moment. His jaw tensed. Your heart pounded. Did you catch him?

“That’s because there wasn’t any war that year,” Byleth responded. His demeanour was calm and serious as ever. Had he been practicing?

“Oh, really?” You tried to sound candid, feigning surprise. “I’m really bad with dates! That must be it!”

“You might have confused a couple of battles with a war. The battle took place around that year, but there wasn’t any declaration of war made” Byleth declared with a tense smile.

“Sorry for the trouble!” You exclaimed at last, urging Sylvain to go out with your elbow.

You closed the door behind you, and walked fast to distance yourself from any of the offices.

“What was that?” Sylvain was shocked.

“Wait until we get out of here,” You begged.

 Once you were on the common grounds of the student buildings, you stopped Sylvain. There was nobody around, as they were still in class. The ginger plopped himself on a bench.

“That was a good shot, but you were right”, he shrugged. “Byleth’s cold blood won’t make it easy. You were right, he’s special, I could feel a kind of connection… But we got nothing out of this…”

“I might have something”, you looked at him intently.

“On the books he gave you?”, he tilted his head. “Because I have revised all the library and –”

You took the opened letter out of your blouse. The silver details shone under the light.

“What the hell!”, Sylvain shouted. You shushed him, making desperate gestures with your arms to keep him from attracting any attention. You were paranoid, even though you were alone. Instead of any logical reaction, he had a fit of laughter.

“What?” You asked, irked.

“I thought you were physically incapable of anything remotely wrong in a moral sense!” He kept laughing, despite your attempts to quiet him down. “Why did you take it? Another hunch?”

“If you don’t get caught, you don’t get punished”, you said in a sarcastic tone.

“I knew it! You’re just as bad as me!” Sylvain was delighted.

“I might be,” You admitted because, well, he was right. Stealing the mail was a serious crime. But you took a small comfort in the pride and surprise Sylvain made you feel. You were no longer your dull, old self, that went on with the flow of events. No, you had a goal – multiple goals, in fact – and you were going to be an active participant in your life.

In that moment you wanted to kiss Sylvain again. But you had other priorities.

 “Are we going to read this or not?” You dared him.

“Don’t ask me twice.”

[writethehousedown]

Got me losin' all my cool (Crygi) - Mar

A/N: First fic I’ve done in years! Any feedback is welcome.

The sun shone brightly through the window, directly into Crystal’s eyes. It fed the headache she could feel growing with every squeak of chalk on the blackboard, every droning word that left her teacher’s mouth. Ten a.m. and she was already done with school.

Crystal was holding a pen, but every time she thought she understood the lesson enough to reflect it on paper, the teacher moved on to a new concept and Crystal’s fragile understanding crumbled down. Three attempts later, Crystal gave up on the entire lesson and resigned herself to relying on someone else’s notes. She studied her classmates, trying to figure out who would be willing to help her out. She didn’t really have friends in the class, but maybe…

Crystal looked a few desks over to the girl sitting at the front of the class, hair gathered up neatly in a ponytail, face propped on her left fist. Her pen hadn’t stopped moving since class started.

Gigi Goode was not her friend. Up until the previous week, their relationship was limited to the moments when Crystal would feel brave enough to wave at her and Gigi would wave back, giving her a half-smile so pretty that Crystal had to look away every time. That was it. Crystal was pretty sure the girl didn’t even know her name.

But then.

Then, the class had got paired up for an essay, and God had decided to be funny.

“You’ll need to write fifteen hundred words, more or less, including the conclusion,” said the teacher. “Now, for the teams, uhh… left side of the class, write your names in pieces of paper, then put them in this jar, c’mon.” At that, he grabbed the chalk jar off his desk and emptied it, then handed it to the nearest student to pass around.

Crystal tried to be discreet, but she couldn’t stop sneaking glances at the front of the class, where Gigi Goode was ripping off a bit of paper from her notebook. Crystal knew better than to hope. There were twenty three people in her class, and she had twelve potential partners, which meant… eight percent? She had an eight-ish percent chance of getting paired with the girl she couldn’t stop looking at. It was a very low number.

Do I even want her as my partner?, she thought. At the time, Gigi was a nice distraction during a boring class, something to look forward to on Wednesday mornings. By spending time with her, by having their first real conversation, really, Crystal risked ruining a perfectly nice crush. What if Gigi was secretly mean? Although she didn’t seem like the type. Crystal had seen her happily chatting with Jan Mantione many times. Jan was too kind to befriend a mean girl.

God, what if she was boring? That would be depressing. If Gigi was the type to call everything a “meme”, or if she tried to show her a joke she found on Instagram that Crystal had seen on Twitter six months ago… Maybe they wouldn’t have anything to talk about, maybe Crystal would forget everything she knew about the subject and look stupid, maybe-

Her thoughts were interrupted by the kid behind her tapping her gently on the shoulder with the name jar. Crystal smiled her thanks and took the jar, and a folded strip of paper from it. It’s no big deal. It’s no big deal. She unfolded the name, and… oh.

Gigi had really pretty handwriting.

  Crystal noticed that her classmates were moving around and finding their partners, so she stood up and walked to the front of the class, where Gigi was looking around, waiting to be approached.

“Umm, Gigi?”

“Crystal, hey!” said Gigi. Okay, so she did know her name.

“I got you. Your name, I mean.” Smooth.

“Oh, good! I was hoping I’d get you.”

“Really?” asked Crystal, a little shocked.

“Really. You seem cool, and I know you have a high grade in this class. You’re my perfect partner,” she explained, again flashing her million watt smile.

What the fuck… what the fuck…

“Oh, uh, great, then! Great…” Crystal trailed off, but she thought she deserved a medal for even replying, at all. She looked at Gigi and noticed the girl was staring at her, expectantly.

“What?” she asked, dumbly.

Gigi smiled and leaned in.

“The essay?”

“Oh my God, right. So, how do you wanna tackle this? Library after school?”

“Let’s go to my place, instead. My mom can pick us up and you can stay for dinner, if we need more time.”

Gigi didn’t ask questions, she just laid out plans and expected the masses to follow. And they did.

“Oh, sure, that sounds good. I, um, should I give you my number?” Nice, Crystal.

“Yes! Here,” said Gigi, handing over her phone.

Crystal typed her number under the name “Crystal” and saved the contact. Then, she went back and added “(from school)”.

The bell rang and Gigi started gathering her things. “Meet me in the parking lot at the end of the day, okay?”

“See you then,” said Crystal. There was really no denying Gigi’s smile and directness, her unwavering confidence.

In her defence, the plan worked. Gigi’s mom was funny and loud, throwing quips back and forth with her daughter and making Crystal feel at ease the moment she got in the car. The Goode house was big enough that the girls could discuss their ideas loudly when they got excited (which happened often), and play music at top volume (Gigi had an actual CD player, and The Cranberries’ entire discography, to Crystal’s delight.)

They ended up working together for five hours, which gave Crystal plenty of opportunity to make a fool of herself, and she more than delivered. But Gigi just kept laughing at everything that came out of her mouth, and after a while, Crystal understood that she was being laughed with, not at. Gigi genuinely found her funny.

Crystal did end up staying for dinner, even though their work was finished. Crystal and Gigi set the table in perfect coordination, as if they did it every day, and Crystal felt warm at the notion and dumb at the feeling.

You talked today for the first time. Calm down, lesbian.

But the Goode family didn’t make it easy either, with their welcoming attitude and the way they teased Crystal like they’d known her forever. She felt comfortable there, and once her dad picked her up, all she could think about was that she wished the essay had taken longer.

A week later, they were back at square one, like nothing had happened. Gigi still waved in the hallways and Crystal maybe held eye contact for longer but that was just scratching the surface of what Crystal wanted. Namely, to be asked out. But she’d fucked up monumentally by not getting Gigi’s number when she had the chance, and Crystal’s suave move of putting her contact in Gigi’s phone had gone to waste, because Gigi had not texted her. Crystal was not about to talk to her in person about the weather or whatever people talked to their crushes about. High school sports. Locker decoration or something.

Asking for notes, however, was a logical and not at all suspicious reason to approach someone. The bell rang, people started leaving. This mission had a ticking clock. She could do it, she could talk to Gigi as long as she had a goal and an opening line thought out. She was doing this, she was getting out of her chair, she was walking to the front of the class and it was a bad idea Crystal turn back turn back turn-

And she was at Gigi’s desk.

Gigi noticed her and slammed her notebook shut with a pencil still inside.

“Hi, Crys!”

Any weirdness Crystal may have noticed on the girl was completely swept from Crystal’s mind by that nickname.

“Hey, Geeg.” That’s good, that’s casual. Crystal leaned against the empty desk next to Gigi’s. “So, I completely blanked the entire class. I wanted to ask if you’d lend me your notes?”

Gigi’s face fell a little. “Oh.”

“Only if you want, of course!” Crystal was quick to add, “You totally don’t have to, you probably need your notebook, and- forget I asked.”

“No, no, Crystal, it’s not that. It’s just, I- I also didn’t take any notes, so. Seems we’re on the same boat, ha ha.”

“Oh, sorry!” Hold on. “I saw you writing a lot, were you just fooling Mister Crawley?”

Gigi looked down to her pencils and whispered, “No, I was, uh, drawing.”

“You draw?” Crystal asked, suddenly excited. “I love drawing, I draw all the time!”

“I know that,” whispered Gigi.

“What?”

“I said, I don’t like this drawing, really, so I don’t wanna show it.”

“I feel like that all the time about my drawings. I like to think it’s because I’m improving, but who knows!”

“You get it,” said Gigi.

“Well, do you wanna go get someone else’s notes? Since we both missed the class.”

Gigi visibly perked up. “Sure! Let’s go.”

When Crystal turned to go get her things, she kicked Gigi’s desk and her pencils and notebook fell to the ground, open at the page where Gigi had left a pencil. The pencil rolled under the teacher’s desk, but Crystal didn’t notice because her eyes were fixed on the drawings on the page.

She recognized those lips. She recognized that nose, she recognized that hair.

She recognized herself.

Gigi dropped to the floor and scurried to close the notebook.

“I’m sorry,” she whispered, clutching her notebook to her chest and not looking up.

Crystal lowered herself to the floor and laid her hand in between their bodies.

“Can I see?”

Gigi’s head shot up and she stared at Crystal in shock.

“You weren’t meant to see that.”

“I mean, you don’t have to show me, but from what I could see, you made me really cute,” said Crystal, smiling wide.

Gigi seemed to pick up on Crystal’s good intentions and smiled back. “I just draw what I see,” she said, handing Crystal the open notebook.

“Cheeky.”

Crystal studied the drawing, running her finger through the lines. It really was good.

“You got my hair exactly right. Even the color.”

“You’re being weirdly chill about this. Most people would freak out, I assume.”

Crystal shrugged. “No need to freak out over this. I’m honestly flattered, I didn’t realize you spend so much time looking at me,” she teased.

Gigi laughed and took her notebook back. “Shut up! I don’t, you just have a memorable face.”

“I’ll take that as a compliment!”

“It is.”

The girls stared at each other for a moment, until Crystal broke the silence.

“Although, you missed my freckles, and the eyes are too big. You should look at me some more, maybe after school at the milkshake place down the block?”

Gigi blinked a few times.

“That was smooth as fuck. I was hoping you’d have the gall to ask me out sometime this year,” she teased.

“You know, I was nervous to do it before, but you really showed your hand today, so I figured it’s my turn to embarrass myself.”

“Fuck you,” said Gigi, with the biggest smile.

“Sure. Not in school, though. We’ll see how this date goes.”