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junkdrawerfics · 1 year

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Swan Sisters (Part 2)

Part 1

Jasper Whitlock x Reader + Bella Swan and Sister! Reader

Summary: An addition to the sister!reader series, where you are Bella's sister and a vampire, not that she knows. Yet. When the car accident happens, you find yourself lost in a mix of concern, lies, and familial arguments. Can you keep Bella quiet when Edward can't?

Word Count: 3645

Warnings: No? Hospitals? Sisters kind of arguing? My midnight editing attempts. Movie-based not book-based (though it hurts my soul)

Note: This one is a lot more Bella / sister!reader focused. Also, I'm realizing this will take many parts because there's so many bits I want to write from this point of view. There will likely be two more parts (at least).

@twilightlover2007 - here's part 2 <3

---

The second you hear about the car accident, everything stops.

Jasper watches you wearily from your bedroom window. He can feel the emotions pouring off of you. Concern. Dread. Fear. Each carrying the force of a violent tidal wave. But you don’t move an inch. You’re frozen in time, like a picturesque statue of pure marble. Despair captured in beauty.

“Is she okay?” You squeak as the shock slowly wears off.

“Yes…” Jasper hesitates, quietly adding, “Edward saved her.”

Edward? He saved her?

“Was he close to her when it happened?”

“...No.”

Alarm bells start ringing, flashing red lights and all. You search Jasper’s eyes, finding your panic reflected in their gold depths. No.

“So he-?”

“Yes.”

“And he-?”

A sharp nod.

Oh dear God.

“We need to go,” you declare, swiping your purse from your bed.

“I can’t.”

“Sure you can!” You flip back to him, but freeze at the stricken look on his face.

Shame simmers under his pained expression, his eyes clouded with so much self-doubt, you wish you could just take it all away. You didn’t mean to spark that, you didn’t think about what hospitals could mean. Wounded humans. Blood. It’s too dangerous for him to go, you should have known that.

Overwhelmed with tenderness for the blond, and a touch of guilt, you drop into the windowsill next to him.

“Sorry,” you murmur, voice soft.

You just feel so…so messy. Drawn so taut you could break. Concern filling every cell in your dead body. It wasn’t even like you said anything to hurt him, he knows that, you know that, but it still feels like you made him feel like that.

Jasper, so fully in sync with your emotions, your thoughts, gently brushes his fingers against yours before intertwining them. The gesture is so simple, so reassuring and firm, you can’t stop the shuddering breath from escaping you as you collapse into his side. His arm wraps around you tightly, as if he can hold together all your cracking pieces.

“Sorry,” you bleat again, “I just- I’m just worried, you know? We’ve finally started spending time together, and if she figures out what we are, or worse, something happens, we’ll have to leave. I’m…I’m not ready for that yet. I didn’t mean to speak carelessly.”

“It’s okay, darlin’, I understand.” Jasper’s lips brush against your forehead, his voice low and smooth, lulling your storm back to calm waters. You curl even further into his touch, humming softly. “Why don’t you go check on her, and I’ll find Alice? She might’ve seen somethin’ about all this.”

“Thanks, Jas.” Your voice is muffled by his sweater, but the blond still hears it, and you can feel a flush of love from him, his power.

“You’re welcome, darlin’. Always.”

It’s difficult to extract yourself from the embrace. Being around Jasper when he’s in a good mood is too addictive, since his emotions usually pour over onto you, even when he doesn’t mean to. His love is like warmth, the kind that starts in your chest and spreads to every inch of your body. It’s the closest you get to feeling alive again.

But you do manage to tear yourself away eventually. Jasper, sensing your reluctance, gives you one of those slanted, teasing grins, “Can’t get enough of me, can you, darlin’?”

“Oh shush.” You scrunch your nose at him, feeling much light as you swing your legs over the windowsill. “Don’t make me regret this whole ‘forever’ thing.”

His eyes practically sparkle with mirth. “I wouldn’t think of it, ma’am.”

You roll your eyes, “Go find Alice, you dummy. I need to go give Edward a serious scolding.”

“Don’t be too hard on him.”

“I know, I know.” You wave a hand dismissively. “I can’t be too mad at him. I just want to screw with him a bit, you know?”

“My mate,” Jasper hums, shaking his head amusedly.

“Count yourself lucky.”

You duck forward, pressing a brief kiss to his lips before pushing off from the window. It’s a rainy day, the clouds thick and dark like usual, the smell of wet bark and dirt swirling through the air. The familiarity of it all eases the last of your stubborn nerves. When you spin back around, Jasper is right behind you, catching you around the waist and pulling you in for another kiss.

“I count myself very lucky,” the vampire purrs, your noses brushing, “every day, darlin’.”

“Good, that makes the both of us.” Though you are definitely more lucky. You’ll never understand how you ended up with someone as amazing as Jasper. “Now, go talk to Alice.”

“Be careful at the hospital.”

“Will do, Major.”

You bite back a grin when Jasper shoots you a narrowed look. Before he can get another word out though, you give him a little wink and take off through the woods.

His low laughter echoes behind you, fading into the hum of the forest.

---

You definitely shouldn’t be here, you think to yourself as you step into the hospital. The smell of blood hits you like a bruising punch to the gut, so hard that you stumble, clutching at the nearest wall for support. You can hear the pulsing heartbeat of each person in the room, the sound of blood rushing through their veins. A siren song. Taunting. Tempting. Your lips part, the smell so thick you can practically taste the warmth on your tongue.

Would their blood taste different because they're sick?

The thought makes you pale. Disgusting. You’re disgusting. You clench your jaw, bones aching as you force yourself to be still, force your lungs to still.

“Are you okay, (Y/n)?”

Blink. Smile. Be human.

You turn to the nurse at the desk, a girl you recognize as one of your seniors from high school. Merissa? You think that’s her name. She’s looking at you with concern-steepled eyebrows, dark eyes wide.

“Hi! Yah, I’m fine,” you bite out through gritted teeth. “I’m here to see Bella? She got into a car accident.”

“Oh sure! She’s in our general treatment room, your dad just got here too.” She points to one of the sets of doors, “Right through there, I’m sure you’ll have no problem finding her.”

“Thanks!”

And thanks to her interruption, you have a little bit more control over your roving instincts, at least enough to make going into the back less intimidating. When you find your family (due to Charlie’s growling at the poor boy you can only assume was the driver in the accident), Carlisle is already taking a look at Bella.

Thank the heavens for Carlisle. The man is an absolute saint and you’ll never understand how he can spend the whole day here.

“How is she?” You appear at Charlie’s side, making both him and Bella jump.

“Where on Earth did you come from?” Charlie barks, a hand over his heart.

“Jasper told me what happened so I rushed over,” you explain quickly, turning to your sister, “He said it was a crazy accident. The truck just barely missed you? Are you okay?”

“I’m fine,” Bella groans. She’s probably said that a million times by now, but it’s good to hear it from her. It’s even better to see her with your own eyes. No bruises. No blood. She is fine. Lucky for you. “It could have been a lot worse if Edward wasn’t there.”

“Edward? Your boy?” Charlie glances at Carlisle.

The older vampire looks your way, lips pulling into a thin line. A slight nod of your head, almost imperceptible, tells him that you know what happened. Bella just barely catches it.

“It’s kind of amazing he got to me so fast,” she adds on, eyes narrowed, flicking between the two of you. “He was nowhere near me.”

She must already be suspicious. Which means you have to convince her she’s wrong. Which means you need to lie. Again.

“Did you hit your head, Bells?” You plop onto the bed next to her, feigning concern to the best of your abilities. You have to resist the urge to flinch when she glares at you.

“She did,” Carlisle inputs, and Bella shifts her glare to the doctor, though he remains unphased, “No concussion, thankfully, but this kind of incident can have repercussions on the mind, so you’ll want to keep an eye on her. Now, I’m sorry to run, but I have another patient to attend to.” He gives Charlie one of his award winning smiles and steps over to the other boy.

“I’m not a kid,” Bella all but snaps, her jaw clenching so hard you can practically hear her teeth grinding, “I’d appreciate it if everyone stopped treating me like one.”

“Hey, you’re still my kid,” Charlie retorts, “If Doctor Cullen says we need to be careful, then we will. No arguments.”

Bella just huffs, obviously not happy with the outcome of the discussion. You squeeze her shoulder, but she just shuffles off the bed, barely casting you a glance. Frowning softly, you follow them back towards the front of the hospital.

“Bells,” you start.

She doesn’t let you get far, “I know what I saw. You may not believe me, but I do.”

“It’s not that I don’t believe you-”

“Then why’d you brush me aside like that?” She flips back around to you, stopping dead in the middle of the hall. You do flinch this time. The look on her face, a mix between disappointment and frustration, buried beneath a fine layer of suspicion, sends another stab of guilt through you.

Charlie glances between the two of you, shuffling awkwardly off to the side. He looks seconds away from fleeing, and you cast him pleading glance, silently begging him to stay. Facing a cougar alone? Easy. Facing Bella’s fury on your own? Down right terrifying.

“I’m gonna go sign some paperwork,” he coughs, and you gape at him as he dashes down the hall.

Coward!

“I thought you were supposed to have my back?”

Don’t say that.

“I do, Bells, but you sounded crazy back there.” Each word feels like a burning coal in your mouth.

“Crazy?”

“I mean, yah.” You shrug meekly. “You make it sound like he teleported or something to get to you. It’s a bit far-fetched, you know?”

Bella purses her lips. For just a short moment, doubt clouds her expression. It gives you an inkling of hope, that maybe this can all end well. Maybe she’ll let it go and everything will just go back to normal and you can kick Edward’s butt for being so careless then thank him for saving her. Maybe-

But then her eyes fall on something, someone, behind you, and her brows set into that stubborn line all over again and your hope deflates.

“I’ll be right back. He can clear this all up.” You can't get a word in before she takes off down the hall behind you.

You spin, resisting the urge to groan when your eyes fall on Edward. He’s standing with Carlisle and Rosalie, the vampires murmuring tensely amongst themselves.

If only you’d had a few more minutes.

‘Angry human, incoming.’ You project your thoughts loud and clear.

Edward looks your ways, eyes blowing wide as he catches sight of Bella walking towards them. For a split millisecond, you can read the panic in his expression, just before the facade of composure comes crashing down. Carlisle and Rosalie seemingly disappear as Bella reaches him.

‘Good luck, Ed. You’ll need it.’

If people could sweatdrop, you’re sure you’d be seeing the emote on the vampire right now. Bella isn’t pissed, not yet at least, but one misstep and she could certainly be there. You can only imagine how Edward feels handling this. Probably like a fish out of water, since he can’t hear her thoughts. Serves him right for his impeccable timing.

You prop yourself against the wall, focusing in on their hushed conversation. You hate using your powers for this, to listen in on something that should be private, with your sister no less, but right here, right now, you just can’t afford to give her that. This involves all of you.

“How did you get over to me so fast?” Bella asks, voice much softer than when she was talking to you.

“I was standing right next to you, Bella,” Edward corrects with an easygoing smile.

That won’t work.

“You were standing next to your car, across the lot,” Bella argues.

“No, I wasn’t.”

“Yes. You were.”

You smile bemusedly. They’re already like an old, married couple.

Edward glares at you over Bella’s shoulder. You glance away, pretending to watch the nurses walking around.

“You hit your head, I think you’re confused.”

“I know what I saw.”

There’s no more uncertainty in her voice.

A heavy sensation settles in your chest.

“You’re not going to let it go, are you?”

“No.”

“Well, I hope you enjoy disappointment.”

---

“Is there anything else you need?” You flutter around the room, grabbing extra blankets, pillows, making sure everything is in reach. Since Charlie had to go back to the department, it up to you to get her settled in before going to find the Cullens.

“I’m fine, (Y/n),” Bella sighs, standing in the doorway with crossed arms. “I don’t understand why I couldn’t just go back to school but Edward could.”

“Perks of having your dad as the doctor,” you chirp with a wry smile.

Bella just rolls her eyes. Stubborn girl. Only she would have a near death experience and then insist on going back to school. Most kids would jump at the chance to have the day off! You know you would.

“Anyways, I got you some water, and aspirin for if your head starts hurting - tell me if it does okay? And I can whip you up some food if you want, or order in, whatever you-”

“(Y/n).”

You cringe, stopping in the middle of fluffing one of the many pillows you brought in. Slowly, the slowest you’ve moved in a long time, you turn to glance at her over your shoulder. And the sight makes your stomach churn, a fresh wave of guilt pouring over you.

Bella’s always been brave. No matter how hard you’ve tried to get her to open up, she’s always hidden her struggles from you. So, seeing her standing there, eyes gleaming with unshed tears, arms curled around herself as if she’s trying to hide from the world, it tears the ground out from under you.

“Do you really not believe me?” Her voice is meek, so different from her usual self.

“Oh, Bells,” you sigh, reaching for her.

But Bella steps away, avoids your touch completely, and that hurts. You clench your fingers, letting your hand fall to your side. You deserve that, you guess. You’ve done nothing but avoid her this whole time. Even now, you’re only here to try and convince her she saw it wrong.

You haven’t exactly been a good sister, have you?

“You don’t.”

“I-” Your jaw clenches. What can you say? You don’t want to lie, not again, not when you know it’ll just drive this wedge further. You can’t lose her, not yet. You’re not ready.

“Well?” Bella scowls, eyes burning holes through you.

You purse your lips, quietly breathing out, “It’s not so simple, Bella.”

“What do you mean?” She takes a step towards you, and you swear you see fire burning along the edges of her figure. You take a step back, wary. “You either believe me or you don’t. What’s so difficult about that?”

“There’s a lot you don’t know.”

You know you’re not helping. You know the answer should be simple. But so is your desire to love your sister, to keep her in your life, to not let go of one of the good things left of your human life.

“Obviously,” Bella scoffs, “Like why you’re always disappearing now? I feel like I see less of you than when I lived in Phoenix.”

“I can’t-” You cut yourself off, biting your tongue.

“Can’t what?

“I can’t talk about it,” you finish weakly.

“Why?”

“It’s not mine to talk about!”

“Why? You seem to be a part of it, whatever it is.”

“Because, Bells, it just isn’t! And you need to stop poking around it.”

“So you are hiding something.”

“Y- No!” You groan, collapsing onto the bed. “Just drop it Bella, please, for me.”

Bella just shakes her head, “I can’t.”

An abrupt silence fills the room, settling heavily over the two of you. You’re both heaving, tense with more to say but no fight left to do it. You can’t budge, and neither will she. A heavy sigh passes your lips as you drag a hand over your face.

What a mess.

The bed shifts as Bella sits next to you. You glance at her, eyes narrowed, tired, and she looks just as worn out. It’s been a long time since you’ve fought like this.

“...I’m sorry, Bells.” Your voice is quiet, pained. No response.

Seconds tick by like hours until she breaks the silence again to ask, “Can you just tell me one thing?”

You should say it depends. The less you reveal the better, considering you definitely just made this all worse. You’ve always had a sucky poker face. But you can’t bring yourself to say it, to keep this exhausting facade up, so you just offer a slow nod.

Bella hesitates, brows synching as she scans your face, “Do I…Do I need to be worried about you in all of this?”

Irony.

At its finest.

With a melancholic smile, you shake your head, “No Bells, I’m okay. I’m happy, actually. I’m just worried about you.”

“Okay.”

And just like that, the tension drips away, leaving the two of you in a comfortable moment of acceptance. You lean against her shoulder, relief flooding you when she doesn’t lean away. Her head even falls against your shoulder, just like when you were younger.

This is what you’ve missed.

And it’s only then, with your nose touching her hair, that you realize her scent doesn’t smell nearly as appealing to you. You hadn’t even noticed it this whole time. A tiny grin captures your lips as you shut your eyes. Finally.

“Can I ask you something?” You hum eventually.

“Depends.”

This time, you roll your eyes, “What do you think of Edward?”

Bella’s face immediately flushes a deep crimson, and that’s enough of an answer for you. Your grin turns teasing as you jostle her lightly.

“You like him, don’t you?”

She scoffs, “As if.”

But her eyes look everywhere but at you.

“You’re horrible at lying, Bells,” you giggle.

“No, I’m not.”

“Then why are you blushing?”

“Well, it’s just- that’s just totally insane. Edward? No, he’s like so…weird and bipolar.”

“And cute,” you chime, earning a glare from the younger Swan.

“Shut up.”

“You’re not denying it.”

“I don’t like Edward.”

“Okaaay~”

You hop to your feet and Bella barely catches herself on the bed, casting you a not too fierce glare.

“Seriously, (Y/n).”

“No, I totally believe you, Bella,” you sing as you glide to the door.

“I don’t like him.”

“Me neither.”

“(Y/n).”

You pause at the doorway, looking back at her with a wolfish grin.

“Bella.”

She’s somehow even more red, practically fuming.

“He doesn’t even like me! You saw how he acted today.” Her face falls at the memory, and you can’t help but shake your head.

To think, even after an argument, you can still have moments like this.

This is worth fighting for.

“Just give it time, Bella.” She looks up at you, and you can see in her eyes, the desperate wish for answers, answers you can’t share. Yet. “He was a jerk today, and trust me, he’ll get a whoopin’ for it, but I stand by what I said. Edward is a good guy. He just…well, he’s got a villain complex, let’s put it that way.”

The brunette snorts, a slight smile disrupting her usual cloudy expression. Good, you think proudly. Your pretty sister shouldn’t look so down, especially over a dumb vampire who doesn’t know how to handle girls, at all.

“Are you off to give him a ‘whoopin’?” Bella asks, putting the word in air quotes.

“Something like that,” you muse, slipping past the doorway. You stop just past it, thinking for just a moment before you flip back again, clinging to the frame as you lean in, “I know you’re not going to stop looking Bella, but will you please keep what happened quiet? Can you trust me on that at least?”

“I won’t tell anyone,” she reassures you, and that’s enough.

You nod, “Thanks Tinkerbell.”

“(Y/n), I swear-”

“Bye!”

You’re almost down the stairs, laughing like a maniac, by the time she comes chasing after you. Even before you were a vampire, she never could match up to you in a race.

“I’ll tell Edward you said hi!” You call as you reach the door.

“Don’t you dare!”

You slam it shut behind you, taking off towards your car. Bella flings it back open, but doesn’t break past the threshold, merely glaring at you from the house. You flash her a blinding grin as you pull out of the driveway, fingers wiggling in a little wave.

Your cheeks might split from how wide you’re grinning as you race down the roads of Forks to the Cullen’s house.

Who knew things could be like this again. You never hoped in your wildest dreams that you could have this back once you changed. And now that you know it’s there, it’s possible, you can’t just let it go. No matter the storms, no matter the arguments, this is worth protecting.

Hopefully you can convince the others of it as well.

---

I love writing the sister dynamic. I don't have sisters, so I don't know if it's accurate, but this is what I'd hope my sister and I would be like.

I hope I'm balancing it all well, and I hope you guys enjoyed this part!

Part 3

#reader insert #x reader #reader #jasper hale #jasper whitlock #jasper x reader #jasper whitlock x reader #jasper hale x reader #twilight saga #twilight #bella swan

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literallyjusttoa · 11 months

Note

Do you have any TOA fic recs?

Oooh ok let me think.

The classic, Were I That Burning Star by @californiannostalgia. Seriously this fic is incredible and I think anyone who’s been in the fandom since like 2020 would cite this as a formative part of their fandom experience. The original Apollogist fic lol.

Speaking of older fics, A Convergence of Apollos by Keyseeker (@flightfoot) has always been a favorite of mine. I cannot believe this fic is almost 4 years old, but I remember following it religiously when new chapters were coming out. All the characters have incredible interactions, and Keyseeker’s writing is just amazing in general. This is definitely one to check out! (p.s. I know Keyseeker has a fic rec of her own, so if you want more after my list, check out hers!)

Anything by @tsarinatorment, but especially her newest fic, Eclipse. I know a lot of work has gone into this fic (At least from what i’ve read in the ToA discord lol) and it’s absolutely paying off I am obsessed.

There are a couple of reading the books fanfics for ToA, but I have a soft spot for Secrets of the Sun by @sierice and @ukelele-boy. it hasn’t uploaded in a bit, but the fifteen chapters that are out are pure gold and I love them lots.

Speaking of reading the books fanfics (or watching them, in this case) I cannot leave out the God’s Eye View series by Keyseeker (still @flightfoot lol). Like I said earlier, her writing is stellar, and she does so much interesting character work with the gods. If you wish Olympus was focused on more in the Riordanverse, these fics are for you.

And another fanfic of this genre (Can you tell it’s a favorite of mine?) Hidden Oracle by Kaeyuh (I'm not sure if they have a tumblr sry!) is one I’ve recently been enjoying. The characters are super solid and I’m excited to see what directions it goes in, definitely a great fic to follow!

Both Cooler Than Me and The Tail of A Pollo by ceruleancats (@falconfrost) are so sweet and I love them, definitely check them out.

OH ALSO. Apollo and the Aftermath!!!! Which is apparently also by ceruleancats and I didn’t realize!!! Trust me this one is so good. I swear Apollo’s pov sounds like it’s straight out of the books it’s written so well.

(un)normal by m_arnie (@m-arnie-xx) was written for sunflower sibs september and it’s so good, literally so good pls read it. Honestly all the fics from sunflower sibs september were great, it’s a collection on ao3 (sunflower siblings september 2022) if you want to read them all

Speaking of that, we've had two years of ToApril and both of them have had a lot of incredible fics, so if you want a lot of ToA content I'd go there. I believe both are also collections on Ao3. This year was under ToApril 2023, and predictably, the year before is ToApril 2022. Lots of fics to enjoy!!

@firealder2005 has recently made a series called The Works of Apollo and I am obsessed??? Definitely a great read, they're so so good.

There’s so many more fics that have been written and are amazing, but I don’t want this post to go on for too long, so here are all the recs I have off the top of my head! Honestly, this fandom is blessed with some stellar fic writers.

#these links took forever to get right lmao #trials of apollo #sunny speaks #ask #long post #fic recs #I have read most of these fics at least 5 times #fic writers carry this fandom god bless

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untaemedqueen · 2 years

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The Deal

Drug Lord!Yoongi x Coffee Shop Owner!Reader

Genre: Strangers to Lovers!AU, Angst, Fluff, Smut

Chapter 21.

Series Warnings (Will Be Updated): Mentions of Drugs and Drug Deals, Blood, Smut, Emotional Damage, Love

Warnings For This Chapter: Leverage, Fluff

Silk sheets and your touch is the only way Min Yoongi can wake up in a good mood these days. He stakes his life on it.

But for once, he woke up before you. It's not a normal thing that happens but he equates it to excitement.

He is so fucking excited for today.

He's never once thought about a woman having his tiger and now that he has you -- he wants nothing more than to see it on your skin.

You wanting this tattoo, this bond, he feels like he's died and gone to heaven.

So he left the bed a little bit early to let you get your rest. Yoongi hasn't seen the sun rise for a very long time and more than that, he's never appreciated the colors that dance across the sky like a pretty watercolor painting.

He looks down at his lit cigarette, watching the way the cherry shines brighter with each passing of wind that flows through the forest.

He can remember how much you hated the smell when he first met you. That feeling probably hasn't gone away but you just care for him too much to say anything now.

Dropping the cigarette from between his fingers, he stomps it out. And with one incredibly smooth motion, he tosses the rest of his cigarette pack into the garbage beside the gazebo.

You'll get everything you want, whether you ask for it or not.

He continues his stroll through the lush backyard, minding some piles of dog shit that haven't been cleaned up yet.

It's calm back here, transcendent almost.

He can make out the other's houses in the distance and there's movement that catches his eye immediately.

His hand reaches for his gun and he narrows his eyes at the view before him. It's distant but so clear before his eyes that he presses his lips into a thin line. He continues to get closer as the seconds tick on.

Jeongguk and Hanna slowly sneak out of Jimin's house and Yoongi watches on with rapt fascination.

"You little shit bag," he quips, walking closer.

The drug lord watches them kiss. It's slow and then so blindingly passionate that he averts his eyes out of courtesy.

Jeongguk doesn't want Hanna to leave that much is clear, they way he's trying to pull her clothes off in the morning sunlight.

Your boyfriend raises his eyebrows when the small woman beats her fists to his chest out of embarrassment.

"I'm gonna miss you, baby," Jeongguk murmurs, biting his bottom lip.

"Not as much as I'll miss you." she quips, giving him one final kiss.

Yoongi smirks.

This is such pure, untouched gold... that he'll be able to hold over your brother forever.

When Hanna finally gets into her car and drives away, Yoongi whistles loudly.

The noise makes Guk jump and the second he sees his boss he becomes like a scared child.

"Oh God!" he gasps, gripping onto Jimin's front railing.

"So you're with Hanna," Yoongi muses, resting his head against the tree beside him.

"Hyung, please, please, please don't tell my sister! Please!" Jeongguk begs, descending the stairs quickly.

Yoongi looks down at his shoes, raising an eyebrow at the tone of your younger brother's voice.

"That's gonna cost you, Gukkie." Yoongi sings, crossing his arms.

Your brother falls to his knees, grabbing at the scarred man's shirt. With a grimace, your boyfriend pushes his hands away.

"Anything! I'll do anything! My sister can't know about it! She'll kill me! Hanna works for her, she'll murder me!" Guk cries out, letting his head loll back.

"Well you should have thought about it before you canoodled with the barista," Yoongi quips, carding his fingers through his hair.

"I'll do anything!" Jeongguk pleads, making a prayer-like symbol with his hands and rubbing them together.

"Anything?" Yoongi inquires.

Oh, yes. This is just perfect.

"Yoongi?!" you call out from the back of the kitchen.

Even better.

Your boyfriend smiles widely down at the younger man. "Yeah, baby! Over here!"

"Hyung!" Jeongguk croaks, standing back up.

They both watch as you start your walk over and Jeongguk whines nervously.

"Anything! I promise! I swear on the tiger!" Jeongguk begs, pulling at Yoongi's sleeve like a kid.

"Get… off! Jesus! Fine. I'll take your pleading as a sign that you really want to keep this a secret. So let me make this perfectly clear to you, today your sister is getting my tiger on her chest and I don't want to hear you bitching about it for a single second. You hear me, Jeon? You keep your sister and I's relationship out of your mouth or I'll tell her all about you and little Hanna hookin' it up over the espresso powder."

Guk drops his mouth in horror at the older man's statement.

"Your tiger?! Are you craz-" your brother looks over at you, how close you are to them and he has an internal struggle for a minute before he groans loudly.

"Fuck! Fine! Goddammit!" he seethes through his teeth, bunching his hands in his hair into fists.

"You promise?" Yoongi teases, looking back at you with a large smile.

"Yes! I promise!" Guk grinds out, squeezing his eyes shut.

"Good little rat," the scarred man coos.

Finally, you step beside the drug lord, smiling up at him when he wraps his arm around your waist.

"What's going on over here?" you quip, laying your head against your boyfriend's chest.

"Oh, nothing. I was just telling Guk how you're getting the tiger today and he's so excited about it. Isn't that right, Jeongguk?"

You quip an eyebrow, expecting an explosion from your brother.

The younger man stares at his boss, eyes hard and unwavering.

They continue their staring contest for ten seconds too long before your brother blinks first.

"Ye-Yes. I'm just so happy you're going to be chained to Yoongi until the day you die." your sibling says forcibly, giving you a small smile.

"Really?" you chirp, looking up at Yoongi.

He winks down at you, drifting his thumb over your cheek softly.

"Oh yes. I can't wait to see you become a real, true mob wife. I'm just so over the moon that you'll be his old lady." Guk murmurs, looking down at the grass beneath his feet.

"Wow. Good. Okay! I thought you were going to throw me in the trunk and send me off to live at a nunnery or something," you breathe happily.

"Don't tempt me," he chuckles, narrowing his eyes at your boyfriend.

"He would never dream of it, baby doll," Yoongi smiles, narrowing his eyes back.

"Oh great! Thank you Gukkie! I'm so glad you're being supportive!" you beam, jumping into his arms and hugging him.

He shakes his head, baring his teeth at his boss.

"I have your coffee ready for you," you tell your boyfriend.

His eyes widen happily at the news and he holds his hand out for yours with a wink.

You take it with a smile, lacing your fingers with his.

As you start to walk away, Yoongi trails behind only to slap your brother upside the head with a chuckle.

The slow pulsing of Yoongi's hand in yours as he clenches and unclenches his fingers makes your mind go completely blank.

Today is the equivalent to getting married in your boyfriend's world.

He said it himself.

And it might be dumb to some, it might be ridiculously naive to believe that your first boyfriend, your only boyfriend, will be the forever love of your life. But you're okay with that.

While you stroll hand in hand towards the glass mansion, you let all of your worries and qualms just float away.

You love this man.

You love this stubborn, strong, lonely man.

And you've probably loved him since the second he helped you off the floor of your coffee shop the first day you both met.

All this push and pull of emotions, the strong desire to take care of the scarred man, the need to heal him -- that's all love.

It's unyielding, it's resilient, it thrums through your veins like a goddamn drug.

And you love that you love this man.

You love that he's yours.

You love that he's not going anywhere.

But like always you'll follow Yoongi's lead.

When he's comfortable with expressing himself in such a way, you will too.

"What're you holding over my brother that you got him to behave like that?" you inquire, dragging your nails over his tan, bare arm.

Your boyfriend smiles coyly, running his tongue over his teeth knowing he's been caught. "You tell me, Sherlock."

"Well if it was about him and Hanna, he's a moron. I know they've liked each other for years now...And the storage room has cameras, I have hundreds of dollars worth of coffee beans in there that need protecting." you quip, opening up the kitchen door.

Yoongi laughs loudly.

You make his heart bleed in so many ways with so few words, it's always a joy.

Picking you up easily, he holds you until he can set you down above him on the island counter. Your legs spread to accommodate him and he pulls down the strap of your nightgown slowly.

His fingertips run over the bare ink-free skin over your chest and goosebumps coat your skin accordingly.

"Feel free to hold it over Guk for as long as you like… I like it when he leaves us alone." you murmur, closing your eyes.

"I'll take you up on that, sweetheart," the drug lord coos, drifting his lips over your shoulder.

His kisses are slow and sensual, the petals of his lips move in time with your heartbeat, coating every centimeter of your skin as his own.

His kisses cease above your heart but his lips stay glued to your skin. His eyes flutter shut and he just stays silent. He's listening to everything -- the birds singing, the wind whipping through the trees, the inhales and exhales from you.

"I'm the luckiest man in the universe." he breathes, letting his forehead replace his mouth on your chest.

Running your fingers over the dragon tattoos of his scalp, you tilt your head.

"You turned me from a monster, from a hard shelled prick, into a man of devotion, into a man with a growing heart. This is all yours, sweetheart. Everything. Anything. I want you to know that."

"I just want you," you sing, tilting his face up.

His eyes are alight with care and earnestness.

"All I need is you," you whisper, coasting your thumb over his scar.

"You got me." he breathes, wrapping his arms around you.

You're surprised to see the tattoo equipment just stacked up in the living room. You expected to be going to a dark, goth decorated tattoo parlor where the artists have so many piercings in their lips that they look like some sort of metallic man.

"This is special and private. They come to us." Yoongi announces, watching you drift your hands over the multitude of machines.

You've thought about getting tattoos several times, especially when Guk would come home every day with a new piece of ink.

Nothing has ever stood out to you though, not until now. You could never make up your mind about what you wanted on your body forever.

This new ink won't be just a regular old tattoo. This means something.

It means something so prolific and so wondrous that everything in the future might just fall short.

"Is it going to hurt?" you inquire, watching the tattoo artist enter the house without a word.

It wasn't long ago that Namjoon had taken the blindfold off this man. You know that Yoongi is private but to hide the sight of how to get to his house only makes it that much more obvious that you have so much to learn.

"It's the good kind of pain," your boyfriend promises.

His arms wrap around you as the tattoo artist begins to set up.

You watch on with rapt fascination, seeing how easy it is for the man to connect all the jumbled wires quickly with precision.

"You don't have to get this right now if you're unsure or nervous." the drug lord reminds you.

You can hear the sadness in his voice but you pick up on something else as well -- understanding.

Turning around to the man you adore, you wrap your arms around his neck.

"I want this. I want you. I've never been so sure about anything else except wanting a coffee shop." you avow.

Yoongi lets out a low whistle, pressing his forehead to yours. "You're a smooth talker. You can turn my insides to dust in a second if you keep talking like that."

Giggling, you stand on the tips of your toes.

"Boss?"

"Yeah, Ming?" Yoongi replies, hugging you tightly to him.

"The gold, please."

The drug lord hums in agreement. He pulls away to dig into his suit jacket. The bottle that he pulls out looks so incredibly expensive, it has diamonds along the entire base and smaller stones of rubies and sapphires.

He tosses the bottle with little caution and you jump nervously, widening your eyes.

Ming catches it easily, shaking the bottle with smooth motions.

"Looks expensive," you muse, turning back to Yoongi.

"It's real body safe gold. It goes for a pretty penny." he breathes, running his thumb over your cheek.

"Oh… I just assumed that the gold outline would just be a deep yellow or something."

"Not in our world." he quips, pulling away to grab a glass of liquor.

Our world.

Those two words have your stomach flipping intensely.

You're really his.

You're really doing this.

As your heart begins to feel lighter and lighter, almost to the point of you feeling like you can fly when the kitchen door bursts open.

"Yoongi," Jin hisses, dabbing the sweat on his sideburns.

Your boyfriend's head turns slowly, taking in the disheveled older man. He lets out a loud exhale, running his hands over his face as if he's becoming irritated.

"This is the most important day of my life, I told you I didn't want to be interrupted," the scarred man sighs, narrowing his eyes at Seokjin.

"Yeah… no… I know, I'm sorry but I need to talk to you," the oldest murmurs, looking over at you apologetically.

Your boyfriend shakes his head, gulping down the liquor with a quickness.

"Say what you gotta say," he urges, turning his attention to Ming who's almost done setting up. "Quickly."

Jin looks at you for a moment before humming uneasily.

"She's about to become my old lady. Anything you know, she will know. So just make this easy for me and hurry up," Yoongi breathes, pulling his gun out and putting it on the dining room table.

The drug lord sits down beside the chaise lounge and he motions for you to lay back for Ming.

You do as told, watching the oldest pick at skin around his nails nervously.

"I'm waiting," your boyfriend insists, spinning his gun on the table with his index finger.

Seokjin takes a deep breath, already cringing at the words that flow past his lips. "Someone stole half of our shipment of cocaine at the docks."

Your eyes immediately snap to Yoongi and his jaw tightens in an instant. His fingers flex and he grips the handle of his gun so tightly you're sure that he's going to crush it in his hands.

Without a word, you grab onto his hand. Your thumb strokes against his smooth skin and his eyes squeeze shut.

There's silence for a long time. Just the sounds of your boyfriend breathing heavily, the snap of latex gloves going onto hands and Jin nervously clearing his throat rings through the stagnant air.

"This is the equivalent of you spitting on my face on my wedding day. Do you realize that?" Yoongi seethes through his teeth.

"Yes, I know. But I needed to tell you. We just found out about it."

Your boyfriend gives a laugh, one devoid of any humor. "Do we know who?"

Jin looks down at his feet, dragging his hands over his sweaty face. "No… they killed all the cameras and took down all the guards."

Yoongi squeezes your hand so impossibly tight that you squeak at the sudden sharp pain.

He realizes his mistake immediately, checking on you in an instant. "I'm so sorry, sweetheart. I'm sorry," he coos, kissing you gently.

"I'm ready," Ming notifies the drug lord.

Disregarding Jin in the doorway, Yoongi looks at you. "You're sure you're ready for this?"

"Yes," you reply, squeezing his hand softly.

He smiles before turning his attention back to the oldest. "We'll deal with it later. This is more important."

Seokjin gives a strict nod, watching the tattoo artist pour out the gold ink into a small paper cup.

"Do you have a cigarette?" Jin inquires to the boss, patting down his own pockets.

Your boyfriend shakes his head, drifting his lips over the back of your hand. "Tryin' to quit."

Well that's news to you.

"A beautiful, headstrong, stubborn queen once told me she hated the smell," Yoongi quips, nodding to Ming to begin.

You find your neck and ears heating up at his words.

The thin transferable paper is pressed to your chest and when it's peeled away you exhale a breath you didn't even know you were holding.

"This means forever," your boyfriend whispers, holding up the mirror for you to see it.

Even in purple ink it's so much more beautiful than you could have imagined. It's larger than all the ones you've seen before and to your surprise you love that. It's the same exact fierce tiger that sits prettily on Yoongi's neck but the paws are more feminine and the tail is longer, ending just below your collarbone where it curls sweetly at the end.

It looks made for you.

"Forever," you promise.

The sound of the tattoo gun turning on sends shivers up your spine and you turn your head to look at your boyfriend for solace. His eyes are glassy, eyebrows knit together.

When the needle enters your skin, he lets out a shaky breath of relief.

You're so much more than perfection for him.

You're his family.

His life.

His home.

"Goddammit," he hisses, pressing his forehead to your knuckles.

When you whimper at the hot, dragging pain, he kisses over your hand to comfort you.

"My baby girl," he whispers fondly.

He's known it for a while now, even if he didn't want to admit it or rush into anything due to his prior failure at romance.

He's so in love with you that it takes up every cell in his entire body.

"My queen," he breathes, watching the tattoo come to life before his eyes.

You're such a huge part of this scarred man that there is no one else in the world that could make his heart bleed like this.

And he wouldn't change that for anything in the world.

Because this day, the day you got this new tiger tattoo, is the day your life changed forever.

This day was the day you were accepted into an empire that Yoongi had built for years.

And what comes next… Well, every queen gets a crown.

<------ Last Chapter Next Chapter ---->

The Deal taglist – @jeon-junggoop, @btsarmy9593, @slothykrueger, @jcsmae, @milesjeon11, @cloudyblisss, @borahae-reads, @secretlycrazyhummingbird, @rjsmochii, @sugas-bbygirl, @ggukkieland, @hyungieyoongi, @chxmachxps, @dvalitaes, @vintageroses10, @maerawrrr, @flowerblu00, @veronawrites, @seoqity, @wozwaid, @hisbutton-nose, @sweetempathprunetree, @jinsearthh, @codeinebelle, @serious-addiction, @bt21chim, @rosquilleta, @dunixxd, @rkchmestizangmaldita, @openup-yourmind, @shesaysweirdthings, @marslena, @deathkat657, @yoonlattesworld, @that-funny-alien-28, @clutterfied, @belladaises, @silentkei, @btsnina, @shydestinyyouth, @thefreddieman, @kkklaudiaaa17, @moonchild1

#the deal #btswritingcafe #thebtswritersclub #yoongi #min yoongi #yoongi x you #yoongi x reader #drug dealer!yoongi #drug lord!yoongi #yoongi smut #bts fic #bts fics

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sorcerous-caress · 4 months

Note

I’m glad you mentioned about Sean viewing Randgrid differently after his bad ending because I have definitely thought about how he’d be around his fellow Merry Men after his bad ending. Bad ending Sean would be very hateful towards anyone who doesn’t agree with him or anyone who even ever had a past of selfishness and greediness. He’d take low shots at people’s background “Zarek wasn’t your mother so consumed by greed they turned you into one of those statue actors on the street?” Stuff like that. Him hating Randgrid because she is the spawn of a dragon would also show how far he’s fallen because I always imagined him believing that there are no naturally evil races. “All goblins are evil? Nonsense those guys just suck.” He’d turn on the companions too even if they had their good ending, Astarion and Gale for being power hungry, Wyll just for having a noble background, hell maybe even Karlach for fighting for a devil and working with Gortash even if it was against her will. If Sol was a companion he’d probably turn on her for her dragon heritage.

But enough about that the last Merry Men kid is Alfred Nikolas a goblin Artificer nicknamed Fun-Sized Fred. He is based on Tiny Tim from A Christmas Carol. He was taken in by Lord Marion (genderbent Lady Marian) as more of a protégée than an adopted child given his parents are still alive and still on good terms unlike the rest of the kids. He became a well-known artificer using the money of his version of Scrooge after he gave all his money to Fred’s family when he passed. Fred uses modified crutches to get around but they double as his weapons. Really wish they had Goblins as a race in bg3 so I could make him in it. I’ll just have to make him in Hero Forge at some point.

Okay, wait, I'm obsessed with the potential for Sean and Sol interactions. Let's play barbies with our OCs for a hot second.

Let's say by some miracle the two of them end up kinda friends in act 3. Maybe a series of failed bullying attempts from Sol that just strengthened their bond instead.

Now bad endings! Sean gets hyper-vigilant and vindictive with his judgment. Everyone is put under the microscope and all their hearts are weighted on a scale against a feather just so they wouldn't end up on his list of enemies.

What if, Sol gets their bad ending too. But since Sean bothered to befriend them, they think "oh. Maybe he belongs to my hoard."

It's basically about 2-5 years of life before they die. Might as well make the most out of it yk? So eventually after amassing all the gold and gems they want, they think it's time to round up the people they care about.

Romanced Tav tied up in gold chains in their chambers? Check.

That one druid who was nice to them and restored their flower? Check.

That dog who didn't bite them too hard when they tried to pet it after he smelled dragon on them? Check.

Now, time to get the friends.

Ascended Astarion and God Gale would be too hard for Sol to manage with their short lifespan so they'd skip them. Sharran Shadowheart would hide too well for them to find and Lae'zel is on another plane of existence serving Vlaakith.

Halsin is there, free to grab. They pass by his village and don't look back. He can stay, he's not on the list.

Minthara IS on the list however. Although they have no idea where she is in the underdark or how to get to her. Did she get killed? They'll pay some drows to search for news about her and wait.

Now Sean, he would be fun because Sol is on the list of his enemies. He would seek them out himself. Afterall it is his fault for being kind to them to the past, now they see him as a part of their hoard.

And oh they'd be so delighted, he spared them the trouble of hunting him down, how kind of him, now off to the cage.

But he just keeps escaping, it's driving them crazy how time after time he comes trying to steal from them or kill them, and they throw him in a pure gold cell and the next day he's gone.

Do they have to pin him down with magic? Curse him with a tracker? How does he keep managing it? They follow him in their dragon form and take back their gold, pick him up with their claws and return him to the hoard.

It's a constant cycle of playing tag, except it is murder and steal tag.

If it's their good ending they'd just be confused, there is as much dragon in them as there are wings in a fish, even their scales fell of buddy. They're fully human.

If he brings up their past, it would anger them. After all, they sacrificed? After all the effort they've put in to change? Now he brings it up? Sol would call him a hypocrite for befriending their awful self before and coming to hold them accountable now.

I doubt it would work or convince him but honestly words is all Sol has at that point. They're a low level human fighter who lost all their powerful magic, not even a family left to hide behind. They're weak and defenceless and an experienced rogue could easily take them down.

So they'd keep attempting to use their high charisma to convince him or at least distract him from their trail. They might be able to overpower him with strength, but he'd be too tricky and slippery.

Him coming after them even after their half-frienship would hurt them but they'd never show it. It wouldn't anger them.

But him going after his own family? That'd infuriate them so much because he definitely talked the whole camp's ears off before about his family and moms and how much he loves them. They'd take more offence to that than him betraying them

At least Sol knows themselves, they were shitty and deserved it, but his family weren't shitty to him. Especially if he brings up Sol's greedy family after condemning his own. They'll dig at him for being just as rotten and greedy as the rest of them.

But also, that is all hypothetical bc I'm not even sure if Sol would bother kidnapping anyone but romanced Tav, yk? Like platonic Tav wouldn't interest them and they'll just increase their security against Sean instead of putting him in their hoard.

Man Jaheira has her work cut out for her, first Ascended Astarion neighbour, then vigilante Sean lurking the streets and now a dragon-human mutant flying over the city and stealing everything.

Not mentioning corrupted Arch-Duke Wyll and the Shar cult just below the city with Justicier Shadowheart.

Anyway goblin guy let's goo!! When I read fun-sized-Fred, I thought of scooby doo Fred ngl. And omfg modfied crutches that actually shoot bullets? It's like that one meme with "call the hospital call the hospital...but not for me" and Fred lifts his crutches and starts firing and it's glorious.

The only one on good terms with his parents, if he is adopted I wonder if he ever thinks about his bio parents. Sol would probably encourage him to, because they feel a special connection to their kin, be it another draconic being or their actual family and would think that Alfred needs to experience it too.

#♡Sol #♡OthersOCs #♡myocs #♡anonstavs #♡Sean #♡Alfred

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stargazer-sims · 1 year

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what was your inspiration to create your main oc? (pass the question on)

Oops… I forgot I still had Anon asks turned on. No one’s abused it this time, so I guess I’ll leave it for a while. 😉

Buckle up for this one, Anon, because it’s gonna be long and rambling 😅

Also, I will pass this question on, but not anonymously.

———

Victor & Yuri

Victor and Yuri came about as a result of a conversation I had with someone about real people in everyday life who, through pure chance, share their name with a fictional character or somebody famous, or who look strikingly similar to someone famous.

There'd been a news story in our local media about an 85-year-old man whose name happened to be Harry James Potter. The news story was not actually about the books/movies, but somehow a comment about the man's name being the same as the titular character from that series found its way into the article. My colleague and I were talking about the news story, and it led to me saying that it wasn't the first time I'd encountered that phenomenon in real life. I've met Tony Stark (his real name; I saw his passport) and multiple individuals called Mohammed Ali through my work. In my work, I've also met people legitimately called Yoda, Anakin and Charmander, and someone who honest-to-god named their child Naruto.

My colleague said they had met someone called Charlie Brown, and they'd also met someone whose family name is Disney. A neighbour of theirs, they said, looked like Keanu Reeves. I once had a dentist who looked just like Anthony Edwards (the guy who played Dr. Mark Greene on ER) and I always called him Dr. Greene, much to his confusion.

ANYWAY... Anyone who knows me, knows that character creation/ character development is one of my passions. I love creating characters who come to life in my imagination and, hopefully, through my writing as well. I could not stop thinking about that conversation with my colleague, and decided that I was going to make characters who either resembled or shared names with another character or a famous person.

At the time, I was absolutely obsessed with Yuri On Ice (okay... who am I kidding? I'm still obsessed with it). I decided to make characters who looked like Victor Nikiforov and Yuri Katsuki, and becuase it was never my intention for them to be YOI fan fiction characters, I decided that they'd only share the first names with the anime characters. From the start, I wanted them to be uniquely mine, and to have their resemblance to the "original" Yuri and Victor be a point of character development for my own original characters, rather than to be any sort of attempt at borrowing well-established characters created by someone else.

Enter Victor Nelson & Yuri Okamoto.

In the beginning of their story, Victor does make reference to the fact that his new friends in Japan have pointed out this unusual coincidence to him. He's never seen the anime and has no idea what they're talking about, really. Yuri does, but doesn't find the comparison particularly amusing. Victor says that any resemblance that he and Yuri may have to anyone else is purely coincidental.

Although their first names and and general physical appearance is not really a coincidence from the point of view of me, their creator, Victor is correct about everything else. He says that he and Yuri are both unique individuals, and I think they are. If you're at all familiar with the "original" Victor & Yuri (i.e. Nikiforov & Katsuki) then I think you'll agree the resemblance is only superficial. That was always my goal for them, and hopefully I've succeeded.

________

If you read all that, you deserve all the gold stars!

...and also gratuitous pic spam of my lovely boys

#sapphire answers #oc asks #anon asks #victor nelson #yuri okamoto #stargazersims

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late-to-the-magnus-archives · 6 months

Text

Iteration - a Malevolent fic, chapter one

John has been poisoned. Who did it? Unknown. How can he be saved? If not for Arthur, he wouldn't.

The ripples from this event hit far distant shores, and no one will come out of it unchanged.

Part 100 of the Surrogate series.

AO3 - chapter one

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

“Poison!”

Rumbling power, magic like warm blood replacing whatever flowed in his veins. Roaring, smashing, crushing sounds, cursing in a language he knew, but—

“Bring them all to me!”

“Dad!”

A goat bleating. A goat… bleating?

Shaking, room trembling, everything burning hot.

So. Much. Shouting.

“I will see the suffering of those who—“

Who what?

Why did everything burn?

Who…

Who am I?

He opened his eyes.

A moment of nothingness, of pure blank slate, of submissive receptivity. But only for a moment. Magic flowed through his veins, familiar and pleasant, and he received it as his due.

He lay on a bed in a palace. A glorious palace, beautiful, ornate, rich in gold and black (and that was important because of… something). There were doorways and incredible art. It felt like home, fit like a glove, filled some part of himself that maybe had been bled out and used as paint and inspiration.

And oh—the palace wasn’t just beautiful; there were mirrors, and that gave him a magnificent if puzzling view. He wasn’t reflected there; he knew that, knew it like he knew this place was his. Instead of him, there was a human man.

A scarred man. A skinny man. A man with weariness in his face and gray in his temples, with bright golden eyes and surprisingly lovely lips. A man who, he knew, absolutely one hundred percent belonged to him.

He wanted to touch, to take, to hold. But there was a problem. He could not fucking move.

(Memory of burning, but barely there, vanishing like smoke)

“John?” said the man in the mirrors, and the man’s eyes moved where he wanted them to, giving him that reflection, but there was no sensation of speaking, no rush of air, no delicate brush of his tongue, which meant…

Oh. Oh. Fuck.

A little girl came into view, blocking the mirror, bending over him. He had no idea who she was, and did not particularly care. She looked like she’d been crying. “John?” she repeated.

There was a pause. Who the fuck is John? he said, and the little girl’s eyes went huge.

“Oh, no,” said the man’s voice again, emotion shaking it, taking it from a truly lovely baritone into something soft and vulnerable.

He spoke, but the lips still did not move. What is happening?

“John,” said the man. “You’re John.” His voice broke. “You… you’re John. You don’t remember?”

“I’ll get dad,” said the little girl with wide eyes, and raced out with surprising grace for a human juvenile.

The man (his) was breathing too fast. “John?”

Who the fuck is John? he said again, and then had a better question. Where the fuck am I? The eyes. The eyes obeyed him. I’m… in your fucking eyes?

“Oh, gods,” said the man, and covered his face with his hands.

No, that would not do. He couldn’t see his person. No. Lower your hands, he said, using a tone he knew would be effective, smooth and rich and deep.

The man did. Good! He knew to obey!

“John… fuck.” The man sounded on the edge of tears. “You’re John. You’re John! You can’t have forgotten…”

No, no, he wasn’t allowed to be sad. My name is John to you? he said, honestly doubting it, not really feeling like a “John” would be in charge of a palace like this.

“Yes. That’s your name.” The cracked baritone echoed over the smooth marble, wept its way past the dark windows, vanished into the nightl.

Oh, the man was crying. His man. There, there, he said, and suddenly discovered he did have another part of this body: the left hand. He raised it, wiping tears from his human’s face. It’s going to be all right. It seems we’ve had some sort of accident, but you’re going to be fine now.

The look on the man’s face went long. Shocked. Then sort of… pissed off? “You’ve got to be fucking kidding me! Why do you do that?”

Do what? Not-John purred, aiming to make his voice resonate through this man’s whole body.

It worked; his person shivered. Then scowled.

And then a god arrived.

Not-John hated him at once. Huge. Beefy. Overtly muscular and male. Absolutely graceless, and he smelled of fish.

“Huh,” said the god, leaning over. “Both awake now?”

Ugh. He even drawled like some kind of hick.

“I feel like shit,” said the man, his man.

There, there, Not-John said again.

“He doesn’t know who he is,” said the man so quietly, almost brokenly.

"Told you that might happen," drawled the god.

This man’s distress… tugged at him, pulled, tormented something deep inside. He couldn’t handle it. Does calling me John mean that much to you? he rumbled as smoothly as he could, trying not to make it too condescending.

The fish-god looked… pitying. Oh, Not-John hated him.

“Yes,” whispered the man.

The fish-god sighed. “Hastur’s still dealing with shit. You got this?”

“Uh,” said the human. “I… I don’t…”

“Even tell him your name yet?”

“No, because I haven’t forgotten mine!” cried the man.

“Right, well.” Fish-god didn’t seem too fussed about any of this. “We still gotcha. All’s safe.”

“But they didn’t find them yet,” snarled not-John’s human with a sudden and startling venom, like he was a completely different person.

Ooh. Not-John liked that. Ooh.

“He will,” said fish-god, and just fucking left. Was that the little girl’s dad? It seemed unlikely.

The man (his) sniffled some more, but there was anger in his face now as he wiped his tears.

Oh, this man was interesting. Not-John was glad he was his. You may call me John. You’re very special to me, aren’t you? Yes, you are. We both know that you are.

“You don’t even know who you are,” the man hitched. “I’m not special to you.”

Oh, aren’t you? said Not-John, and touched the mark.

Of course he felt it there. Could strum it, like a harp. Could follow his fingerprints all through this man’s soul.

The man gasped and went very, very still, staring at nothing.

What is your name?

“Arthur,” he whispered.

Arthur. Oh, that mark was perfect. Deep. You’re mine. You know that, don’t you?

“Yes,” whispered Arthur, but his brow knit, as though something were bothering him.

That couldn’t be. Not-John didn’t want his man upset, so it couldn’t be. He pressed harder. You want to call me John?

“It’s your name,” said Arthur. “You named yourself.”

Well, that was clearly nonsense.

He could feel this place was his. This man was his. He was god here. John? What kind of a fucking name was John? Did I?

“Yes, after… after the coma.” Arthur’s brow was still knit, but he couldn’t resist the power of the mark, and was physically relaxing, losing all that nasty tension.

Coma? Okay, that sounded serious. What coma?

“Mine, though I guess it was both of ours,” said Arthur, which told Not-John two unpleasant things.

One: his human had clearly been through it. Humans were fragile. This was unacceptable.

Two: he had already been in the human’s body when the coma was happening.

Where was his own body? He couldn’t be trapped in mortal flesh. How would he even stay alive without his godly power to—

Wait. Something was wrong.

Sleep, he commanded his marked, commanded his own, and then focused on the place of their connection. Okay, first off, this was a mess. They were entangled. That was awful, because extracting himself would be impossible without harming his human, and he didn’t want to do that. Second off, the mark was… what the hell?

What the hell?

WHO ELSE MARKED YOU? he roared, startling Arthur out of the sleep he’d just put him in.

“The fuck, John!” Arthur cried instead of answering, which he… really shouldn’t have been able to do.

John settled in, gripping the mark tighter. Who. Else. Marked. You.

“Fuck. Hastur did. You know that, damn it,” said Arthur, who wasn’t behaving nearly as swayed as he should.

John narrowed Arthur’s eyes. Hastur?

“How can you not remember anything?”

Oh. Arthur was crying again.

No, that would not do. No. Calm. Be calm. You’re mine, Arthur. Nothing changes that.

“I… what the fuck are you talking about? Your name is John. You’ve been in me… we’ve been together for ten years. You can’t… you really don’t remember anything?”

Ten years! Ten years!

John needed a moment.

That was a long time to be without his body. There could only be a few reasons why he hadn’t returned to it, and he suddenly wondered if that entanglement might just be keeping him from going to the Dark World.

…back to the Dark World.

Back… to?

He didn’t remember. He didn’t remember, but the fear of it rose in him like icy water, cutting off his breath.

Arthur wiped his face again. “I’m not going to give up on you,” he suddenly vowed. “However long this takes. I’m not ever leaving you.”

Of course, Arthur, soothed Not-John, trying to hide his growing horror at his circumstances. His body… Where is my body, Arthur?

“You don’t have one,” said Arthur, snappish, which he shouldn’t have been able to do, either.

Not-John gripped the mark tighter, penetrating, palpating. Relax. Where is my body, Arthur?

Arthur made one small sound, a perfect, memorable sound of pleasure. And then he went impossibly stiff, improbably scowling, and sat up, which was very much the opposite of relax. “Fuck this. I can’t lie here.”

How the hell had he… Lie down.

“No.”

Not-John was so shocked that he said nothing as Arthur looked for clothes. (And yes, his naked body was quite distracting, but there were bigger issues at hand.)

Arthur winced. Leaned against the wall, pale.

You aren’t well. Not-John raised his hand and touched Arthur’s lips.

“I’ve been throwing up for three days,” said Arthur.

We’re sick? Not-John was offended.

“No. Hastur can explain. He’s busy ripping up the kingdom trying to figure out what happened.”

And what happened, Arthur?

Arthur seemed to decide he lacked the energy to go wandering, after all. “I… don’t want to get into it yet.”

So he wasn’t sick? You mentioned Hastur again.

“The King in Yellow. You were a part of him once.”

A part of—

Oh, that name! That was it, that was everything! So I am the King in Yellow! he trumpeted, bold with recognition.

“Not this again,” Arthur muttered.

I am the King in Yellow, said Not-John, because it felt so damn good to say, and he swelled with it, and stretched with it, and flexed as this knowledge settled into him like wheels into well-worn grooves, and—

Arthur passed out. Just fell, eyes rolled back, like his electrical plug had been pulled.

Not-John managed to catch him, left arm swinging around in time to keep that fragile human head from cracking like an egg. What had just happened? What the fuck had just happened?

Oh. That’s what happened. Not-John came perilously close to taking over this body and shoving Arthur out.

He could do it. Gods, it would be so fucking easy.

He was like a crab that had outgrown his shell. He barely fit in here; the entanglement—binding them both—was the only fucking reason they were both still in this body at all.

So why the hell hadn’t he?

Could right now. Just do it. Take the body, get up, get the fuck out of palace, away from the fish-god and poison and whatever else was going on. Figure out the process to recovering his original body, or ascension, or something. But the thought of losing Arthur…

Thrusting that human soul away so it went to the Dark World alone, without him…

Something… it didn’t…

It didn’t sit right, and Not-John couldn’t bring himself to do it.

“Dad!” screamed the little girl (but hadn’t she gone to get her father?), and used a fairly competent levitation spell to get Arthur off the floor and onto the bed. Then she was on it with him, fussing, breath hitching, feeling his cheeks and checking his pulse and generally freaking out.

Her tears were hot. There was some reason he didn’t like her. Whatever it was, she was in the way. He shoved.

And with strength he did not expect, she gripped his arm and pushed it down against his chest, keeping it there with her whole weight. “What did you do?” she snapped.

Get. Off. Me. He wouldn’t warn her twice.

Her eyes narrowed. “Dad is going to tell you off so hard when he returns.”

I thought you called Arthur dad, said Not-John, smug. Or was it the fish-god?

She stared at him. “Arthur is dad. Hastur is dad. Dagon is uncle. You’re… I don’t know what you are right now, but you’re not helping. Did you hurt him?”

Geez, what a mouthy kid. Though come to think of it, the set of her lips, her little furrowed brow… huh. Yeah, this was Arthur’s offspring, all right. You will get off me. Right now. You will leave this room, and tell no one of my actions.

She narrowed her eyes. “You’re being an ass,” she said.

He growled a warning. Do not make me curse you.

“You’re welcome to try,” she said with an oddly calm air that spoke of knowledge, not hubris, and it gave him pause. “Besides,” she added. “If you do magic without Arthur’s agreement, you’ll knock him out again. That’s probably what you did this time.”

How dare you—-

“You almost killed him twice. Don’t you dare, sir.”

Oh, he was going to punish her when he got his body back. Get off.

She swallowed and did, her eyes wet again. “Fine. Go on. Try whatever. Arthur’ll be so mad at you.” And she ran back out, wiping her eyes.

Whatever. John settled the mark, swaying Arthur to ensure he would stay the fuck asleep, and then carefully took over. Filling, sliding neatly into the cracks and crevices of this mortal form, and it felt so good, like uncurling after being stuffed into a box. With a satisfied moan, he sat up—

And almost lost Arthur’s soul completely.

They were entangled, and that’s what saved him—gripping Arthur, pulling him back, straining to keep them both in that body as it fell limply back onto the bed.

Fuck. Fuck! He could take the body so easily, but not with that cost! It took John a hard, bad moment to settle them both in, to calm Arthur’s soul down, to tie it down. To grip the moorings—so small, so pitiful, because Arthur’s soul was human.

To compress himself.

It wasn’t… comfortable… in here with him. Not at all. He had to be so still, had to make himself so small. Like if he took a deep breath, that would be it. Ugh. It was horrible. It hurt. It was—

Arthur woke up.

John startled badly. So badly he froze, gaping stupidly in the mirrors. He clearly felt that mark, that connection, working just fine, except…

Except Arthur fucking ignored it and woke up. “Ugh,” he said. “What did… did… you just sway me?” He sounded shocked.

So did John. How the fuck are you awake?

The look of betrayal on Arthur’s face was like a knife in their shared heart. “Fuck,” Arthur whispered, and got out of bed. “Don’t do that again!.”

How—

“Don’t you fucking sway me again! I don’t care if you don’t remember anything.”

He bristled. How dare—

The snarl was back, that deliciously insane gravel, and Arthur must have known John could see him in the mirrors because when he bared his teeth, it was aimed. “I don’t. Like. To be pushed! I don’t like him or you doing that. Don’t you dare do it again!”

Wasn’t this man his?

Yes.

Then what was… where did he get off… Or you’ll what?

All previous stubborn looks paled in comparison to this one. “I’ll never fucking talk to you again.”

Bullshit! Preposterous! Horrifying! You have to talk to me!

“Want to bet?” threatened this impossible man.

Not-John’s left hand clenched. He wanted to throttle him. He wanted to touch him. He wanted to force him to the ground and choke the life out of him or do something else utterly distracting until he was fucking pliant, and—

You’re mine, though, he said, and was horrified to hear himself whine.

Arthur relented. “Nothing’s changing that.” He sighed and flopped back down on the bed, facing the mirror overhead. “I know you don’t remember. I… fuck. I forgive you. You’re gonna be sick when you do remember. I know. Just don’t do it again.”

What… was this? Tenderness? No. There was still anger underneath, like a double-boiler. But this was…

Choice. Not-John got it in a weird moment of instinct. This was choice. Arthur was talking about their future. Choosing some kind of life together.

Okay. He could work with that. Of course, you’re right, he agreed in honey-warm tones. If that’s what you want.

“And now we’re back to this,” Arthur muttered.

I’ve misjudged the situation, Not-John continued, smooth as refined oil. And I’ve misjudged you. You’re a tender soul, Arthur. I won’t try to make you do anything like that again.

Oh, what a raucous look. “You couldn’t, anyway. Fuck off.”

Ugh! Punishment! There would be punishment!

Maybe.

Honestly, this defiance was kind of hot. Maybe it would be non-traditional punishment. When he got his body back. Speaking of which… Arthur, he said, low, even seductive. Please tell me where my body is.

Arthur’s face really said everything, no matter how stubborn the little asshole was. And right now, it was saying…not-good things. “John, you don’t have a body.”

More smooth. More warm. More bass, just barely brushing the mark so Arthur would tell him the truth. Of course I have a body, Arthur. I’d be dead if I didn’t.

And Arthur’s next expression… hurt. It was naked. Compassionate. “John, I’m not… we should wait until Hastur’s here.”

Brush. No need to wait for anyone, Arthur. It’s you and me. We’ve always been enough for each other, haven’t we? And oh, the way his eyes fluttered, his face relaxed—You can tell me. I may not remember much, but I know I can trust you. He reached across, just resting his fingertips on Arthur’s hand. Tell me. And at the same time, again, he brushed the mark.

Arthur’s eyes fluttered nearly shut, responding to that dual touch. “You don’t have a body,” he murmured. “You were torn from Hastur when he tried to take a portal and it closed on him. You were dead for I don’t know how long—you were never sure. You were in the Dark World, John, and there was… you ended up pulled from there and put into a book. When I opened the book, you ended up in me. You don’t have a body.”

Not-John was silent. Staring. So… that fear was… real. He had been in the Dark World, after all. He could feel the truth in it.

It was such a… it felt so…

Not-John didn’t have words for this. For the enormity of the feeling, the expanse of emotions. It wasn’t anything he could understand, or name, or control. Fear, anger, horror, shame, helplessness… there were no suitable words for any of it. He was crying, and didn’t even fully know why.

Because he’d died. That’s why. The Dark World had already had him.

And now, Arthur was holding his hand. “I’ve got you, John,” Arthur said softly.

A shudder gripped him and would not let go, and his tears were the ones sliding down Arthur’s face, and he rattled inside that frail, human form, and Arthur’s entangled soul was what kept not-John from shaking right to bits.

“I’ve got you,” said his Arthur again, holding his hand tightly. “You’re safe. You’re all right. We’re going to fix this.” And then he said the weirdest thing: “It won’t be like before. I won’t fuck this up. I swear it.”

Fuck… fuck what up?

And of course, he wouldn’t answer that. “Come on, Hastur,” he murmured. “Where in fuck are you?”

Answer me.

Arthur would not. He lay back on the bed, holding Not-John’s hand, and drifted to sleep.

What am I going to do? Not-John whispered to himself, but there was no reply.

(chapter two)

#malevolent #malevolent au #malevolent fic #malevolent podcast #surrogate series #arthur lester #john doe malevolent #hastur malevolent #faroe malevolent #parker yang #sunny | yellow

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ala-baguette · 2 years

Note

So, I have finally started to read KWTL. I was a bit unsure about whether I'll like it or not, considering it is written from outsider's POV.. But OH MY GOD! One chapter in and all my doubts flew away!

This fic is seriously the best, primarily because watching Gawain trying to understand Harry is written so well, and secondly having Mary McDonald as his wife makes stuff doubly interesting.. The angst is so nicely done ughh.. I am currently on chapter 7 but I have allowed myself a few sneak peeks from later chapters 😂, and I am convinced that it would be a heart-breaking but spectacular ride.

It's a shame that the end is near because honestly, I want this fic to go on forever..

Oh yeah, a mention to the amazing 'Hermione Granger' fic from 'Left behind' series, that was pure gold.. 😍

Love your work! 💝

(Just out of curiosity that will there be any follow-ups or related oneshots ? Also, will we get some Harry or Ginny POVs ?🙃It's fine if you don't wanna ans these questions )

Hi and welcome! So happy for you to join us.

I’m so chuffed whenever I hear I have a converter to the ways of the outsider point of view. I know a lot of people are doubtful of the POV of Knowing Where to Look, but it’s so lovely when I hear from people who were willing to step outside their comfort zone to give it a try. So thank you!

To answer your question, I have no plans at present for a sequel/ follow-up. I think when we reach the ending, you’ll see that Gawain’s story wraps up quite nicely where we’ll leave it. But it’s funny that you should ask about related oneshots…. Depending on how far along you’ve gotten, you may have noticed that several of my “Left Behind” stories are actually inspired by scenes in KWTL. Specifically the Hermione, Sirius, and Kreacher fics. But I’m excited to say, I do have one small side piece, separate from Left Behind, that is in the works! This oneshot will stand along side with KWTL, and I’ll be posting it at the same time as the chapter where it fits chronologically. This is one of the only stories you’ll see me writing from Harry’s point of view (what can I say, I like writing the side characters everyone forgets about). It’s not big, and it’s mostly just a bit of fluff that Gawain would never dare let himself be in the room to see. But I’m excited to share it when the time comes!

Oh, and BTW. Thanks for the shout out to Hermione Granger! You reminded me that I never actually posted that one on Tumblr, so I think I might just do so now for funsies.

#harry potter fanfiction #hp fanfic #outsider pov #canon compliant

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chanfictions · 2 years

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Sex with Kisame/fem! reader hehehe. Sex in its normal form and when fused with Samehada, his monstroform. Two extending inhuman penises!

I completely blame (and thank) @mytanuki-kun for this episode's content 👾 🦈. Also, uh, this ask. Yeah. It's part of Count now. I know it wasn't supposed to be buuuuuut I do what I want. I don't know if this should have been a special episode, but meh -- it is what it is. I've been teasing about this episode's special guest... and welp, here he is! For my Kakuzu x !masochistReader x Hidan fans/shippers, don't worry -- just read through until the end.

More credit to Tanuki for this headcanon of Kisame (seriously, go read her Baby series because oh gods is that pure fucking gold). Our DMs are either cursed or magical. You decide which 🙈 I'm gonna just drop this and run. Enjoy!

Count - Pt. 6

Kisame x Reader, Kakuzu x Reader

18+ Content! Minors, DNI!

Warnings: bondage, D/s dynamics, masochism, pain play, fingering, brat taming, monster dicks, knotting, size kink, bulges, overstimulation-ish, some mentions of blood, alcohol, creative use of Samehada, smut, smut, smut.

Part 1 - Bonus Scene - Part 2 - Special Episode: Red - Part 3 - Part 4 - Part 5 - Special Episode: Nightmares - Part 6 - Part 7 - Special Episode: Sick Day - Part 8 - Special Episode: Nightmares Pt. 2

Sitting at the table in the base's shared kitchen, you drummed your fingertips absentmindedly next to where your cheek was squished flat upon its surface. The day had drifted at a slow crawl in a strange, dreamy haze, and you were bored out of your mind. Bored, intolerably antsy, and hellishly pent up to be exact. Your feet fidgeted beneath you with minds of their own, tangling themselves around the legs of your chair as you watched Kisame's silhouette move about the kitchen as he rummaged for something to eat with Samehada still slung across his back. Though, it would be more accurate to say you were staring. Your mind was going to dubious places as your hungry eyes fixated upon the rippling, steel cables of muscle that strained his skin with every movement of his beefy arms, imagining how hard they might be able to swing a strap of leather. An airy sigh breezed past your lips as you remained so focused on him and entrenched in your dream world that you hardly noticed the movement occurring around you.

Kisame turned, eyebrow cocked upon hearing that wispy little sound, curiously eyeing your melted form that was ogling him like a starving dog. "You good?" The depth of his raspy voice didn't help with your little problem, leaving you shifting in place with a huff and a growl, coaxing the straw of your drink into your mouth with your tongue, lazily maneuvering it to avoid lifting your head.

"She's just sulking." Kakuzu's gruff, mocking tone hummed from behind you.

"Am not," you muttered around the straw between your teeth.

"And apparently so desperate for a beating since Hidan's been away that she's sizing you up," Kakuzu snickered to Kisame from behind his mask, now standing beside him with arms crossed over his chest in full view of your face as it twisted in annoyance. "Can't even go two weeks without it now."

"Shut up, Kakuzu," you snapped.

"Desperate, needy little masochist," he sneered tauntingly.

"Says the horny old yarn ball who plants whiskey traps to find any excuse to fuck my lights out," you retorted sharply.

Kisame barked with laughter, turning completely to face the spot where you were definitely not pouting. "Oh, someone's mouthy today," he teased with a crooked smirk.

"Bite me," you snarled defensively, eyes narrowing into a smoldering glare as you contemplated playing with fire.

The amused, mocking laughter continued to hum between the two men, rolling into a low warning that was delivered upon a wicked, toothy smile from Kisame as the sentient sword chittered softly on his back. "Careful, darlin'."

With a cheeky snort, you shifted up onto an elbow, sliding your drink in front of you as you chewed on the straw. "Or what?"

"You might get what you wish for," Kisame grinned.

"She'd like that," Kakuzu grunted. "Maybe I should let you teach her some manners."

A twisted smirk pulled at your lips as you tongued your teeth and eyed the pair leaning against the counter with lecherous thoughts cranking the gears in your head. With a bubble of deviance swelling in your chest as you twirled your straw with your tongue, you decided to poke the bear. "What, can't handle me without Hidan now, old man? Gotta call in the cavalry?"

Kakuzu's eyes darkened, boiling over with the same vicious haze that always overtook them when you got into one of these saucy moods as he stepped toward you, casting an ominous shadow over your face as he loomed down from above. "I think it's time to try something different with you," he gruffed in a low, gravelly sneer.

"I think you're all out of ideas," you stared up at him challengingly, that haughty smile still playing at your lips. "And you're so desperate that you think the threat of involving Kisame is going to make me come undone."

"You have quite the little monster on your hands, Kakuzu," Kisame rumbled with amusement.

Eyes aglow with a bratty mean streak, you took another long sip of your drink, still locked in your staring contest with Kakuzu. "You're going senile if you think Kisame can hit me hard enough to make me crack after the bloody mess I made with Hidan last time."

Raspy laughter rolled from Kisame's chest. "Are you out of your mind? I'd snap you like a twig."

You just giggled, never breaking eye contact with Kakuzu. "Sounds like fun." You were definitely playing with fire. Now, you just needed to figure out which buttons of Kisame's you needed to push to rile him up.

With a fresh hunger blazing in his eyes, a deep hum rumbled in Kisame's throat as he barked an order. "Come here."

"Make me."

With a gruff snarl, Kakuzu snatched you by the throat, fingers digging harshly into your skin as he dragged you out of your chair onto your feet. "You need to be reminded that you aren't as difficult to break as you pretend to be, girl. You seem to have forgotten that you came crawling to my bed after the last time because you had nightmares," he growled a cruel taunt in your ear, a smirk pulling at his stitched mouth as he made brief eye contact with Kisame.

Your cheeks burned with a mix of lust and embarrassment as Kakuzu's grip on your throat tightened. A needy heat throbbed between your legs that was swiftly becoming difficult to ignore. With your eyes now following Kisame's movements, a twisted smile crossed your lips as you tongued your teeth again, gaze flicking between the pair. "Try me."

"Oh?" Kisame hummed curiously, casually approaching where Kakuzu stood with you pinned with your back to his chest.

Eyeing Kisame up and down like a slab of meat at a supermarket, a heat burned and coiled in your core, rolling a low, hungry hum from your chest and causing you to fidget in Kakuzu's grasp, wagging your ass against him teasingly as you gasped around the constriction at your throat. Pinned between the two towering men, your heart beat with a wild excitement as you locked eyes with the subject of your new game. Tingling pulses of heat ripped through your body. The anticipation was already driving you mad, as you were fully aware of just how strong Kisame was. He wasn't known as the "Tailed Beast Without A Tail" for nothing -- and that impending danger just filled you with an insatiable need to figure out what all of his buttons were and push them. Repeatedly.

Kisame leered at you curiously as you taunted him with your stare, glancing at Kakuzu briefly before returning his attention to you. This should be interesting. "You want me to break you, that it?" Tilting your face up with a hand gripping you by the cheeks, he leaned down until he was eye level with you with a wicked, toothy grin stretched across his face.

That bubble of delicious defiance swelled in your chest as Kisame loomed over you while you were still pinned to Kakuzu by your throat, your pulse thrumming rapidly beneath his rough fingertips. Licking your lips and wearing your most mischievous expression, you locked eyes with him and issued your challenge. "Like I said… try me."

"You're going to have to do better than that," he hummed teasingly, squishing your cheeks in the grip of his hand. "What's the magic word, princess?"

With a devious smirk and a gasping giggle, you wrenched your face out of his grip and rasped out the taunt that you knew was about to get you into a world of trouble. "Bite me, fish-boy."

The swordsman roared in your face with laughter, finding your foolish boldness to be almost endearing as took you from Kakuzu's grip and hauled you over his shoulder with a playful smack to the back of your thighs, resulting in you erupting into giddy cackles that deafened you to the pair's conversation as to how exactly they were going to deal with you as they walked down the hall toward Kakuzu's room with you slung over Kisame's shoulder like a carnival prize.

The mood shifted markedly once you were behind Kakuzu's closed door, though, and the lengths of rope came out. Your heart hammered its way into your mouth as you stood pinned between the hungry pair beneath the hook in the ceiling that was the epicenter of most of your shenanigans. Heat twisted and knotted in your core as something predatory washed over Kisame's unusual features and his impressively large hand gripped your chin. A dark fire smoldered in those monstrous eyes as he studied you while Kakuzu strung you up like a piñata for him. The hands moving over your body had you shuddering with need and left a mouthful of taunts rolling impatiently upon your tongue as they peeled off your clothes. A content sigh breezed through your teeth when the rope tightened around your wrists, drawing your bare feet up away from the ground with the new height you were being granted. "Well, big guy? Gonna show me if those teeth are just for show, or what?"

"You're playing a dangerous game," he growled in your face, baring those pointed teeth, not having to lean down much now that you were swinging idly from the ceiling. "Even if you are a masochist, you have a breaking point," Kisame hummed as his hot breath fanned your neck.

"Mm… good luck with that. Hidan always gives in before I do," you purred back, snapping your teeth next to Kisame's ear as you curled your legs around his waist to pull yourself closer to him, undoubtedly stoking the flames of arousal as you felt him twitch hard beneath the fabric of his pants against your naked cunt.

Kisame's massive hands roughly groped your ass as those pointed teeth scraped across the skin just below your jawline leaving neat red lines in their wake as you gasped and moaned in response. His raspy voice buzzed in a low, dangerous growl into your ear. "Hate to break it to you, darlin', but I'm a hell of a lot stronger than Hidan is."

Eyes blazing with an untamed lust, you just giggled at him, dropping your head back to taunt the ceiling with your quiet laughter as you untangled your legs from him and poked his solid abs with your foot to send yourself into a slow spin. "Prove it."

"I told you the little brat loves this shit," Kakuzu grunted as he moved from his spot to rifle through his cabinet to pour himself a glass of whiskey, settling himself onto the couch to watch with a twisted smirk hidden under his mask. Lips curled into a snarl, Kisame eyed Kakuzu before stepping away from your mocking pirouette to snatch a thick leather strap from Kakuzu's collection of items that had been set out for the occasion.

"Oooh, I like that one," you grinned giddily, tonguing your teeth as you eyed the leather swinging from the end of his muscular arm. "Come on, big boy. Hit me." The thunderous crack made by that strap as Kisame swung it with an inhuman amount of strength almost caught you off guard and left your eyes watering and rolling back into your head in delight as the heavy impact that followed ripped a dark, raised welt across your ass. The pain was delicious, and you needed more. A content groan hissed through your teeth that was tailed by a happy giggle as the motion turned you to face Kisame with that taunting smile still playing at your lips until you feigned a pout. "Come on, Kisame… hit me like you mean it."

Heat simmered under your skin as Kisame eyed you intensely with Samehada chirping and chittering excitedly on his back. "Oh, so that's the game we're playing," he murmured to himself.

"Ki-sa-meee--" you sang as you spun until the next heavy crack that followed knocked the wind out of you as the leather strap wrapped around your ribs, snaking a bruise around your torso that left you rasping psychotic laughter into the sky, drunk on the wicked ache that tore through your body.

"That what you wanted?" Kisame snarled back as he struck you again in a slow, heavy rhythm that was so different from the chaotic fury you were accustomed to, yet so, so delicious in its own way. Kisame, meanwhile, was quietly impressed that you were still begging for more.

You found your voice again between the strikes that sent you swaying like windchimes in a storm and painted you with stripes of white-hot bruises, choking out your next taunt as the leather that wound around your inner thigh left you shuddering and teetering on the edge of madness. "Harder." Sweat began prickling and glistening upon your skin as the inferno building in your core swelled and raged. You were soaked. Slick glistened and coated the insides of your thighs as you goaded Kisame into another set of strikes.

Kakuzu hummed with dark rolls of laughter in the background as he removed his mask to enjoy a sip of burning liquid amber from the glass in his hand. Not being the subject of your little game and watching from the sidelines was entertaining to say the least, but he couldn't just observe for long -- not when you were succeeding in twisting Kisame into giving you exactly what you wanted with your bratty antics. "I told you, pain just makes the little slut wet." Setting his glass aside, Kakuzu rose from his comfortable perch and strode over to where you swung, eyes smoldering as he approached.

Heart pounding in your ears, you gasped excitedly as a familiar set of strong hands groped your throbbing bruises before arms snaked around your body from behind. One rough hand curled around your neck and the other teased your needy pussy for a moment with a low growl rumbling through your entire being. You swallowed hard in an effort to maintain your little mask of defiance, arching into the rough hand teasing your clit and moaning when he abruptly sunk two thick fingers into your throbbing heat. "I mean… I think we've established that I'm a ma--haaah-sochist."

"That's just a side effect of your little party trick, though, isn't it?" Kisame cooed, his expression now seeming more sinister as he spoke with a frighteningly knowing tone.

"Pa--haaah--rty t-trick?" You faltered as you fought to maintain your resolve, distracted by the delicious sensation of Kakuzu's fingers curling against your silky walls before they suddenly left you achingly empty. "You're going to call the blood trait that has kept your partner alive all this time a party trick?"

Kisame chuckled as he flashed you a wicked, toothy grin and he reached over his shoulder to grip Samehada's handle to still the wriggling sword. "No, that isn't. But the seemingly inhuman pain tolerance you gain from that chakra in your blood is. Did you really think I wouldn't notice?"

Time abruptly stopped as your eyes darted to meet Kisame's, the bratty air of confidence rapidly draining from your body as your heart fluttered into your mouth. "W-what?"

"I can sense all of that, and so can Samehada," Kisame rumbled as he gripped your flaming face, now seeming much more serious. His grin only widened at the heat blazing under his fingertips. "Kakuzu knows all about the heat that your people put off when they heal, but he isn't aware of what else you can do with that chakra of yours, at least if you get the balance just right. That's your real party trick," he murmured wickedly in your ear. "I wonder, how does it feel when that chakra is taken away from you?"

Oh, fuck. This was decidedly not part of your game plan and twisted your insides into anxious knots.

"Oh, did Kisame strike a nerve?" Kakuzu goaded as his calloused palm slid roughly over your stomach as your body stiffened. "No snide little comebacks this time?"

Your face said it all, as both men hummed around you with amusement. Kakuzu's hand around your throat tightened and held you firmly against his thick chest as Kisame stared directly at you with an animalistic glint in his eye, releasing your face as he drew a very restless Samehada from his back. A nervous whine rattled in your throat as you wriggled in Kakuzu's grasp, eyes widening as the sword chittered and lunged at you.

"Hold still, darlin'," Kisame cooed. "I don't want to completely cut you to ribbons just yet."

"K-kakuzu--" you stammered pleadingly to whom you hoped would be the more reasonable of the two. Your heart pounded wildly and you were rapidly losing your grip on your breathing as you twisted in his grasp as fear bubbled and knotted in your chest.

"Don't. Move," Kakuzu ordered in a low growl. While he knew you had mixed feelings about knifeplay to begin with and had to be in the right frame of mind for it, Samehada hardly counted as a knife, and he reminded you of that quietly. "It isn't really a blade."

Kisame chuckled darkly as he closed the gap, stepping toward you and cupping your face soothingly with a large palm while angling the sword away from you for a moment. "She's cute when she's scared," he hummed with a cruel smile, taking in the sight of your coming undone as the sentient thing crawled over his shoulder and nuzzled itself into your torso like a needy dog. Spines emerging from the bandages reached out and tasted your flesh, drinking your chakra and drawing gashes in their wake. "Calm down, Samehada just wants a little taste," he crooned when you twisted fearfully, brushing his thumb across your trembling cheek, locking on to your wide, frightened eyes. "Be a good girl and stay still for me so it doesn't get too excited and rip you to shreds."

Your thoughts began to hum and swirl with hazy fog. The fight was slowly draining from your limbs, leaving you feeling heavy, weak, and unsettlingly cold as your body heat seemed to be vanishing along with your chakra. Your skin throbbed with a new, foreign ache clinging to your fresh bruises and gashes that your spinning brain couldn't quite fathom. Dizzy, confused, and now sinking with a growing sense of impending danger, you whimpered nervously and tried to shift in your bindings, only for the sentient blade to hiss and nestle itself more tightly into you.

"Relax," Kakuzu rumbled in your ear as the world around you stopped making sense. His presence and firm hold on your body were the only things keeping you grounded enough to not completely panic with that thing tearing into your skin. "That's enough, Kisame. She's going to pass out if you take any more."

Kisame's pupils were blown as he tightened his grip on the sword's handle and peeled it away from your trembling body despite its chittering protests, admiring the deep red lines and trails of trickling blood that now painted your skin. Intoxicated by the rush of your strange chakra and swept up in the bloodlust that came with handling that sword, thick arousal washed over his senses.

"Feel… everything," you mumbled, your face falling into Kisame's hand as your body hung limply from the ropes around your wrists.

"That's different, isn't it?" He mused with a predatory glint returning to his eye, noticing the shift in your reactions to pain when he dug his fingers into a particularly dark bruise.

You grimaced and mumbled an unintelligible confirmation with a weak nod.

"You aren't so mouthy without that chakra to rely on," Kisame grinned, turning your head and grazing your neck with sharp teeth, eliciting a sharp gasp from you. "I don't know if she can handle another strike from that strap like this. What do you think, Kakuzu?"

"I think she'll tap out after two," Kakuzu growled the challenge in your ear, running a rough palm up your side. He was surprised when you shook your head, breathing heavily as your weakened body shuddered when his hand passed over the welts Kisame made.

"Can't," you mumbled, struggling to string your thoughts together.

"Aw, poor thing," Kisame cooed, thumbing your cheek. "Maybe we should be nice and take you down from that rope."

"I like her all tied up with nowhere to run," Kakuzu gruffed with a wicked smirk. "You had fun the last time Hidan and I fucked you like this," he growled in your ear, running his palms over your thighs.

With a whimpering whine, you eyed the equally impressive bulge straining Kisame's pants and recalled a playful threat Kakuzu made the last time you were in his bed. "Won't fit."

Kisame rumbled with raspy laughter. "We'll go easy on you this time," he teased, brushing his thumb over your lip, relishing the blissed out look that washed over your face as Kakuzu slipped two fingers into your aching core again, sending your eyes rolling back into your head.

You were rapidly losing your tenuous grip on reality as the arms around you shifted confusingly and you lost track of whose hands were where. Deep rasps and low, gravelly voices swirled around your head, offering a confounding combination of taunts and praises as thick fingers stretched and filled your needy little pussy while others pressed and kneaded your throbbing bruises. Sharp teeth flashed across your neck. The heat of their bodies pressing against yours consumed you. You heard yourself moan and whimper into whichever shoulder was currently in front of you, as you no longer had the strength to hold your head up. Lust knotted and twisted in your belly, leaving your walls fluttering and you begging for release. The combination of newly painful bruises and near orgasmic bliss was making it impossible to find words.

"So close already?" Kisame hummed as he gripped your chin in one hand to see the pathetic look on your face as you bit back a moan.

"Please, fuck me," you mewled between gasps, not sure who to beg as they both seemed to play an equal part in tormenting you.

The thick need swirling in your tone was intoxicating and only further stirred the animalistic instincts screaming in his head. "I'm really going to end up hurting her if we don't take her down for this," Kisame hissed through gritted teeth as his pants grew uncomfortably tight.

With a knowing sound of agreement, Kakuzu slipped his fingers from your core, leaving you whimpering and fluttering around nothing as Kisame picked you up by the backs of your thighs to take a bit of weight off of your numb hands so Kakuzu had the slack needed to unclip them from the ring above your head. "Are you going to be a good girl for Kisame?" He growled lowly, his voice rumbling through his chest and into your back.

"Yes, sir," you breathed. Those two little words made Kakuzu's arousal twitch against your ass as he freed your hands and draped your tingling arms around his partner's shoulders.

A low, raspy groan hummed in Kisame's chest as your cunt brushed against his clothed bulge. "I should warn you, men from my clan are a little… different," Kisame grunted as his hot breath fanned your neck. He struggled to resist the urge to sink his teeth into your flesh again when another little whimper crackled in your throat as his fingers dug into the welts on your thighs.

"She's not going to care about that, trust me," Kakuzu gruffed as he pressed your head down against Kisame's shoulder before stepping away and grabbing a large towel, which he threw down over his bed to avoid smearing your blood all over his sheets.

Your head was spinning as you melted against Kisame's warmth. "Don't care," you echoed in a soft mumble. The needy throb that pulsed through your core left you using what bit of energy you had left to roll your hips against Kisame's tenuously contained package, eliciting a warning growl that breezed past your ear on his hot breath. "Ki-sa-me." His name left your lips in slow, airy syllables as you nuzzled your face into his neck.

Hearing those three little sounds only made urgent matters more pressing. Kisame groaned low and deep as he set you down on your back on the towel Kakuzu laid out, caging you in under his looming form and admiring the absolute wreck he had made of you. A large palm smoothed over your bruised, broken skin, leaving sticky smears of blood in its wake from wounds that hadn't closed. The sight of you was intoxicating enough, let alone the smell. The rich scent of blood mixed with your unusual chakra left Kisame bristling with a hunger that could only be satisfied by completely possessing you. That raspy voice rumbled through your head as he tapped your cheek to get your attention. "You good?"

With soft, rattling moan escaping your parted lips as his hand played over your bruises, you nodded and hooked your fingers into the waistband of his pants with a great deal of effort to move your arm that far, giving it a needy tug as your lidded gaze shifted up to meet his. "Please--"

"Fuck," Kisame groaned, slipping the subjects of his warnings free of their confines as he discarded his pants.

Your eyes widened with confused excitement as not one, but two meaty cocks sprang free from their cloth prison and fell heavily against your belly, smearing hot beads of precum against your skin. "How…"

"Told you, we're different," Kisame growled, unable to contain himself now, fisting the first meaty length and sinking it slowly into your fluttering core as it flooded you with hot gobs of cum.

You yelped, your breath catching in your throat as you squirmed under him, eyes rolling back as the strange sensations began warping your already confused perceptions of pain and pleasure. The ache tearing through your body left by Samehada's love bites began pulsing in the most delicious way -- the lingering pain morphing into something completely mind-meltingly different. "Kisa--" You clawed at his chest, your back rolling into a wicked arch as the substance filled your tight cunt and sent the rest of your senses haywire.

"I know," he murmured, your breathy panting and the pulsing grip of your tight little hole making it difficult to concentrate as he rutted his first cock into you, pressing a heavy palm against your stomach to keep you on the bed.

A throaty moan rolled from your chest as you heaved and panted, the mounting sensations bordering on madness. The ache in your bones had entirely melted and given way to an undefinable, needy arousal that made you want to crawl into a nest made of Kisame and disappear. "Kisame--" you mewled and stammered more urgently, struggling to overcome the fatigue of your chakra-drained limbs to coil yourself around him like a python. "Need it, both -- need both--"

Kakuzu's low laughter rumbled from the other side of the room, amused at the state you had been reduced to as he retrieved his glass of whiskey and found himself a good seat to enjoy the view, palming himself through his pants after settling into his spot. "Told you she'd like it."

"Shoulda taken you up on this sooner," Kisame grunted, pressing the second engorged head against the girth of the first, straining to keep control of himself as it slowly made room, parting your walls further and completely stuffing your tight cunt.

"Fuu--haaa--huull, so good -- Kisame--," you squeaked, drunk on the confusing sensations smoldering under your skin and clawing at his arms desperately as his second cock sunk further into you. "T-too--"

"Shh," he rumbled, settling between your trembling legs and petting your sweaty hair out of your face in an effort to ground you as you whimpered and gasped beneath him in your struggle to adjust to the overwhelming feeling of fullness that was now the center of your existence. Suppressing the urge to pin your legs to your chest and rail you into the next life was growing incredibly difficult as the grip of your fluttering walls on his meaty cocks was driving him insane. "Look at me, darlin'."

The rasp of his voice struck you differently now, as your entire being was flooded and overtaken by the essence that was plugged into you by those thick cocks. The world melted into a strange, dreamy haze, making you forget where you even were. A large palm cradling your face directed your attention to the source of the sound, but the only response you could offer was a lusty moan that vaguely resembled the word 'please' and a roll of your hips that sent shockwaves of pleasure tearing through your body.

"Good girl," he murmured, finally feeling you relax enough to be able to move. With a low growl when you clenched around him, he closed one massive hand around your throat, digging his fingers into the soft flesh of your neck as he roughly rutted both cocks into your strained little pussy, relishing every gasp and cry that struggled to make its way past your lips.

"Kisa--fuck, s-so--" You stuttered and hiccupped, twisting in his grip and crying out at the ceiling as the tight knot of heat in your core swelled and finally burst. Stars erupted across your vision as the wave of pleasure ripping through your body stole the air from your lungs. Your heels dug weakly against the bed as you fumbled for anything to hang on to as your walls tightened and pulsed around the impossible girth filling you.

Instinct began overriding reason as the sight and sound of you drove Kisame to the brink. A clattering chirp briefly caught his attention between the loud, wet slaps of skin as he now noticed Samehada had skittered its way over to him as he fucked the sense out of you, swelling and gnashing its scales excitedly as the thick cloud of your chakra consumed them both. "It wants another taste," he gruffed into your neck with another snap of his hips.

The presence went unnoticed to you until Kisame's voice filled your head. Struggling to make sense of what he was saying, you shook your head, biting your lip and whining as each thrust drove you deeper into blissful outer space. "Can't--"

"Not like before," he growled lowly, raking his teeth against your neck to draw another loud moan from you as a distraction. "Trust me?"

Not even thinking, you just cried his name again, consumed by the delightful pang left behind from his teeth piercing your flesh as another blinding orgasm washed over you and took with it any ability to reason. "Y-yes!" Without another word, Kisame released your throat and grasped Samehada's handle. You yelped, as the transformation that began was immediately apparent.

His size. All of his size.

The bed shifted and groaned under his increasing weight as he began taking on a more predatory appearance. Teeth sharpened and eyes gained a more vicious glare as fins erupted from his back. His large hands morphed into claws and the already monstrous cocks nestled in your tight cunt swelled and grew just the same, leaving you a gasping, pleading mess under him as another orgasm ripped through your body from the stretch alone as he fucked you through the growth. Thanks to the dizzying substance he flooded you with at the start, his cartoonishly massive size wasn't painful, but the sensation was so overpowering that you couldn't think straight as the creature you knew as Kisame loomed above you, taking a heavy, clawed hand and pressing against the now prominent bulge in your belly with a toothy grin stretched across its face. The intoxicating aura that engulfed you sent the rest of the room fizzling away as those massive, meaty cocks were repeatedly thrust into your wrecked pussy. Your skin pulsed and throbbed with every motion. A strange warmth had replaced your perception of pain, sending you flying off into a new realm of reality, far out of your head. The orgasms crushed you in increasingly intense waves that now left you sobbing into the monster's nearest shoulder with each release.

Kisame grunted, pinning your knees to your chest to reach a new depth to satisfy the raging instinct to completely fill you, mumbling a low apology as the knot at the base of his cocks began swelling inside your already stuffed little hole. He slowed the deep ruts of his hips, feeling the rapid approach of his own release.

"Kisa--aaaaah--me," you cried, trying to squirm away from him as the feeling became more than you could tolerate. So full and hot, your brain completely malfunctioned.

"Fuck," he grunted through his teeth, unable to cease the motion as he finally unleashed a low, rumbling snarl that shook your entire being as your ruined pussy milked him dry.

Filled to the brim with heat and unable to shift the intensity of the absolute fullness of your stretched and overstuffed cunt, you sobbed with a mix of relief and fatigue, your body trembling as Kisame slowly untangled your legs. "C-can't, Kisame -- s'too much," you choked out through raspy sobs.

"Shh. I'm sorry, darlin'," he crooned, cradling your face carefully in a massive, webbed hand, heart still pounding as he kept you pinned to the bed despite your weak struggling. "I know. Just give it a minute."

Your head spun under the influence of a drained chakra reserve and the intoxicating pheromones that must have been the source of the shift in your perceptions, leaving you struggling to piece things together as the creature on top of you cooed gentle praises next to your head. The monster's massive arms curled around your trembling body, eventually rolling over and bringing you onto his chest. Words played and swirled in your head, as you wanted to speak but your mouth just wouldn't get with the program and only produced a soft groan.

A heavy, familiar hand came to rest on your back, slowly drumming the soothing rhythm that left you drifting between somewhere and nowhere at all.

...where am I again?

A warm, heavy hand on your shoulder jarred you so thoroughly that your perception cracked, momentarily layering two realities on top of one another. You shrieked, jolting out of your chair so clumsily that you tumbled onto the floor, launching your drink into the wall with a flail of your arms. Blinking, sweating, and breathing heavily, your head snapped around the room as you struggled to catch up.

Kakuzu would never… what the fuck?

"Darlin', you good?"

"What?" You groaned, your voice husky from sleep as you blinked up at the source of the sound. Staring down at you with amusement staining his features was none other than the subject of what you now hoped was your rather vivid dream -- Kisame. Your face immediately flashed with a roiling heat, burning your ears and cheeks so thoroughly that you felt your head might actually burst.

"You were talking in your sleep," Kisame gruffed with a knowing smirk.

Oh, fuck. In that instant, you felt your soul leave your body.

Flashing you a wicked, toothy grin, he loomed down from above and feigned a menacing stare as he crouched down to where you landed, casually resting his elbows on his legs. "So, what's this about me having two monster dicks?"

#naruto x reader #naruto smut #kisame x reader #kisame smut #kakuzu x reader #kakuzu smut #naruto imagines #akatsuki x reader #akatsuki smut #monster boyfriend #chanfictions #chanswers

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bffsoobin · 3 years

Text

amortentia

↳year six potions class was never particularly exciting to you- as a Slytherin with much more interest in Transfiguration- but alas, it’s required to graduate. You thought the class couldn’t be any more of an inconvenience, but upon being paired with infamous Gryffindor Beomgyu, you find yourself proven wrong.

➤ gryffindor!beomgyu xslytherin!reader, harry potter!au, enemies to lovers, a little slow burn, fluff

Word Count: ~11k

Requested?: kinda? anon requested a Beomgyu oneshot with no specifics and I spit this out of some depraved, Harry Potter obsessed corner of my mind.

Warnings: mentions of drinking, usual e2l arguments, swearing, usual Gryffindor-Slytherin insults and tension

A/N: I hope the anon who asked for a Beomgyu oneshot is happy with this!! I finally felt like I had enough time to write a proper hogwarts au so here it is! Also I purposely avoided using any professor names that are clearly linked with the actual Harry Potter series purely because of timeline continuity! Bonus points if you can guess who Georgiana is related to before I point it out :) ALSO this is so long and I feel so rusty so I hope it’s okay lmao

•:•.•:•.•:•:•:•:•:•:•:•☾☼☽•:•.•:•.•:•:•:•:•:•:•:••:•.•

The sound of your quill scratching against parchment filled your quiet corner of the common room, allowing you a feeling of solidarity and peace you’d been craving since you arrived back to the castle a few days ago. Of course you’d been excited to be back, sharing the meal in the Great Hall with all of your friends happily as you watched the wide-eyed first years get sorted into their houses. It was hard to believe that 6 years ago that had been you waiting to find your place within the walls of Hogwarts.

As always, the buzz of the beginning of a new year wore on your nerves. Despite your love for your friends, their energy was- in your opinion- completely draining. You much preferred the moments of quiet serenity that the stone laden dungeon common room afforded you. The last few embers of a fire lit hours before winked at you from across the room, tempting you to raise your wand and reignite them. After a moment you decided against the movement, as you were presumably the only one awake at this hour and the light of the cedar scented candle you’d brought down with you from your suitcase provided enough light for you anyway.

The scratch of your quill stilled as you flipped to the next page, careful not to accidentally bend the corners of the book you’d just purchased. Several detailed diagrams detailed the process of transfiguring plants to inanimate objects to animals then back to plants and you felt your heart swell with excitement. Transfiguration was hands down your favorite subject, and you’d been craving to learn this process in particular since it had been mentioned offhandedly in class last year. You scrambled to pick up your quill, happy that you’d splurged for the instantly refilling model as ink flowed flawlessly against the parchment.

A sudden crash from the entrance of the common room popped your comfortable bubble of silence harshly as you clambered for your wand.

“Who’s there?” You yelled, annoyance and surprise mixing to raise your voice considerably. For a moment you heard nothing as you advanced closer to the door, keeping the three wide stone steps between you and who- or what- ever was behind the door. The door shook a few times before finally flying open, revealing three very normal looking boys stumbling through the threshold. They were all hanging on one another, stumbling over their feet as they pushed into the common room. You recognized the one in the middle instantly as Choi Yeonjun, fellow Slytherin and current Head Boy of the house. He was a year older than you but you knew him well for his infectious laughter and notoriously good grades despite never studying. His cheeks were flushed and his feet unsteady, but he held a charming grin through it all. The identity of whoever was supporting him on the left was a mystery to you, but the boy supporting him from the right sent alarm bells off in your head.

“Beomgyu?” Your voice left you before you could rein yourself in, and you would have cringed had it not been for the hatred brewing under your skin. Here he was, the one person you tried to forget existed every single summer. And he had been part of the ruckus that pulled you from your reading. He didn’t say anything as the three boys stumbled past you, dumping Yeonjun onto one of the soft black leather sofas.

“Hello?” You felt like you were in some kind of time warp, somehow totally invisible to the three of them as they sorted themselves out; Beomgyu and the other boy straightening out their clothing and Yeonjun lolling his head back on the cushions with a content sigh.

“Oh, hey Y/N.” Beomgyu finally drawled, sticking his hands in the front pockets of his trousers. He was still wearing his robes, layered over a sensible gray wool sweater and black uniform slacks. His striped red and gold tie hung off of his neck slightly, obviously having been loosened at some point in the night. He donned the same Head Boy pin Yeonjun did, but in the same colorway as his robes and tie. Loud, obnoxious, attention seeking red and gold.

“Hey? How about instead of “hey” you tell me why the hell you’re barging into my common room at some ungodly hour of the night! Don’t you have somewhere else to be, Head Boy?” The unidentified boy behind him froze as his eyes widened, apparently feeling the sting of your icy words much more than Beomgyu. He just lifted a lazy eyebrow, guiding his annoyingly confident gaze over your body. Fucking Gryffindors and their confidence. It was suffocating.

“Well you see, Y/N. Yeonjun here can’t handle his fire whiskey for shit, and we were all just having a little start of the year party in the Room of Requirement. So me and my friend here,” he motioned vaguely to the cowering boy behind him- who you now noticed looked like he had just entered his fourth year- “decided to be so kind as to bring him back.”

You said nothing for a moment; simply simmering in your hatred for him until he spoke again.

“By the way, what are you even doing up so late? You’re not a prefect...so shouldn’t you be up in bed like the rest of your little friends? What’s so secretive that you have to be up in the middle of the night for it? Are you doing something...evil?” He leaned forward, closing the gap between the two of you and bringing his mouth level with your ear. You cringed at the closeness, clenching your hands into fists until the crescents of your nails indented your skin. His voice had lowered like he was telling a secret, as if Gryffindors even had the capacity for maintaining privacy. “Are you being naughty?”

You huffed indignantly, finally finding the strength to shove his shoulder away harshly. The skin of your cheeks was certainly flamed, but you hoped he would chalk it up to annoyance and not the intoxicating scent of his woody cologne.

“If you must know, I was up studying Transfiguration. I was trying to enjoy some piece and quiet until you came busting in.”

Beomgyu stepped around you and made his way for the table you’d previously been sitting at. To your delight he refrained from touching anything, but he stared at the set up for so excruciatingly long that the mystery boy awkwardly slipped out of the dungeon without a word.

“We start classes in about 5 hours,” he suddenly remarked. His voice made you jump a bit, since you’d become used to the regained quiet. “Why the hell are you already studying? And a subject we’ve all already taken? Any other Transfiguration courses would just be electives, and with how much you care for your class standing I would have assumed you’d be learning ahead on Potions.”

“Well first of all, I’m not exactly studying. I’m just reading. I bought the book myself because I-” you stopped and heaved a sigh at the scrunch of his eyebrows. He clearly wasn’t understanding the concept of reading just for the fun of it. “I’m not studying for Potions because I despite it. Plus, how much is there to study? The book literally spells out every ingredient and procedure. There’s no thinking to be done, and hardly any magic.” Beomgyu’s eyebrows shot up into his hairline comically.

“Hardly any magic? My god, maybe I was right to peg you as the pessimistic type. Must be hard to feel anything akin to hope down here in your-” he glanced around your common room again, eyes catching on the darkened green and black decorations, the window offering a view of the sparkling Black Lake shrouded with pine trees. “In your dungeon.”

His use of the word bothered you greatly. Even though you knew it was geographically true and had even used it yourself; something about him coming in unannounced and uninvited to insult your home inspired fresh anger in your stomach.

“Get out,” you spat, ignoring the way a half-dozed Yeonjun jumped at your voice. With all your might you pushed at Beomgyu’s broad shoulders, willing him out of your sight for at least a few more hours.

“Oof, must have hit a nerve there, huh?” He continued to speak casually as you pushed him, walking backwards up the steps with an annoyingly perfect accuracy. Once he was finally stood in the threshold of the heavy door you heaved a sigh of relief as you swing it closed.

“Bye bye! Don’t ever fucking come back!”

——

You only managed about two hours of sleep after the Beomgyu drama, but luckily for you the three other sixth year girls you were rooming with had been smart enough to buy and stash away some caffeine potions. They had none of the enjoyable taste of coffee but three times the effect, and soon you felt back in top shape to head to class.

Pushing through the masses of clambering students with a practice eased, you caught up to the familiar frame of Georgiana, one of your oldest friends. She was a Ravenclaw, but you’d ridden together on your very first trip on the Hogwarts Express and stayed close friends since then. She greeted you easily, giving you an award winning smile as she pulled you by the arm of the robes to sit on one of the surprisingly empty stone benches lining the halls.

“Let me see your schedule!” She had to yell just to be heard over the mumbling of the crowd, but you heard her well enough to produce a folded piece of parchment that you carried despite having memorized it. Georgiana’s eyes flitted over it carefully, comparing it to her own schedule which laid open on her lap.

“We’ve got...Herbology 3,” she ran her finger down the parchments a few more inches, “Transfiguration of Aquatics...and NEWT prep together!” You groaned loudly, a feeling of anxiety weighing down your bones as you rubbed your fingertips into your temples.

“What’s up with you? Over me already?” She giggled, leaning back against the wall and handing you back your schedule.

“No, it’s just...if you’re the second class for Herb 3, Aquatics and NEWT prep, that means I have to pray that the second house in Potions isn’t Gryffindor.” You leaned back against the cool wall next to her, pouting in self pity until you saw the grim look on her face.

“What?” You sat up straight again as if a fire had been lit under your ass. Georgiana looked as if she was holding in a laugh and a grimace at the same time while you begged her to give up whatever information she was holding back from you. Her hand hovered over her mouth in an attempt to hide the wavering smirk running across her lips.

“Okay, don’t freak out.” She began, placing a hand on your knee.

“Well now I’m definitely going to since you lead with don’t freak out! Should I freak out? What about?”

“I already compared schedules with Soobin,” she said gently.

“Okay, and?” You knew of the sweet Hufflepuff, had sat next to him in a few classes and seen him hanging out with Yeonjun on occasion, but still had no idea why she was bringing him up now.

“And him and I have Potions together.” In the split second it took for the words to process you saw her flinch, clutching at the fabric of her robes over her chest in anticipation for your angry outburst.

“Of course! Of course I have to get stuck with them for Potions class, out of all the other houses. Merlin really has it out for lately you know, I didn’t sleep very much last night, had to pay Melinda 10 galleons for one of her caffeine potions-“

“I can tell,” Georgiana supplied. You grimaced at her and immediately shut your mouth, sensing your rapid talking was quickly becoming over the top.

“Georgie, if I have Potions with him-“ you didn’t even have to specify who you were speaking of before she was rolling her green eyes into her head.

“If you have Potions with Beomgyu, you just need to ignore him. He loves to push your buttons, Y/N. When will you realize that? And you push his back and you both get a good cat-and-mouse feeling that every teenager wants. Maybe if you stop entertaining it, he’ll take it easy on you. Need I remind you of the time you were actually friends with him? Didn’t swear he was the spawn of Satan after every conversation? I even remember in second year when you had a crush on him and made me-“

“Okay!” You replied curtly, gathering your books and parchment back into your arms. “I’m going now! Class starts in,” you pulled back your robe sleeve to look at a watch that clearly was not there, “10 minutes, and I like to be early!” Easily, you slipped into the throngs of students, leaving Georgiana behind with a sly grin on her face.

——

You arrived to the Potions room before any other student, forcing you to idle awkwardly in the small space between the door and the first brewing station. A few of the cauldrons bubbled idly, breaking up the silence of the room with the low hum of white noise. The arched ceilings only amplified the absence of noise- even the never ending buzz of students passing through the hallways was somehow muffled to silence inside the walls.

“Ah!” The professor bellowed, waving at you from the opposite end of the room where he had been straightening out some piles of parchment that you could only assume were homework papers. “Hello there, you must be quite eager to start the day!” You could feel the skin of the back of your neck heating up as the rotund man approached you gleefully.

“Oh, um, yes sir. You could say that...” you mumbled, clutching your stack of books to your chest protectively. The man smiled at you kindly but you could still feel the heavy weight of awkwardness seeping into your bones. He opened his mouth again- making another attempt at small talk to which you cringed. As much as you respected the professor on the basis of his knowledge, your ability for any small talk, especially Potions related, was extremely lacking.

“You must’ve done quite well on your OWLS to be here, yes? Only those with the highest scores can be registered. The class can be quite challenging, but if you’ve got your affairs in order I reckon you’ll fine.” He paused, likely sensing the blankness behind your stare as you nodded politely. “Ah, all things you already know I’m sure. Are you excited to get started with the class?”

You frowned, holding back your natural instinct for brutal honesty. How on earth could you let this gentle old man down gently?

“Of course she’s excited! Aren’t we all?” Beomgyu was in the room now, apparently, approaching you from behind and slinging an arm around your shoulders. The loose fabric of his sleeve collided with the side of your face, blinding you for a second. You stumbled on your feet from the jostle, trying to shrug away from the warmth and overwhelming scent of his cologne. Beomgyu never was aware of his own strength as he held you steadily against his side as if he was trying to fuse your bodies together.

“Oh my! So nice to see such great friends between different houses! Back in my day, as I’m sure you know, there was so much hatred between Gryffindors and Slytherins...never would have seen a pair of friends like the two of you!” The professor seemed genuinely delighted, oblivious to the way you tried to wiggle out of Beomgyu’s hold. You offered the professor a plastic smile as more students filed in. As soon as the portly man was otherwise occupied, you stomped the heel of your sneaker into Beomgyu’s foot with all the might you could gather.

“Merlin, ouch!” He recoiled immediately, withdrawing his arm from around your frame to clutch at the foot you’d hopefully bruised. “I’ve got Quidditch practice after lunch today! How dare you!”

“Guess it’s a good thing you don’t need your feet for Quidditch, Choi. Serves you right for violating my personal space. Next time it’ll be worse than your fucking toes.” You hissed the words lowly, just enough that he would be able to hear them but without alerting your nearby classmates.

“You two, there!” The professor suddenly exclaimed, making you jump out of your stupor to see he was pointed an aged finger at you and Beomgyu. “Since you were first in and seem to get along, I’ll have you be partners on Station 1.” A few confused whispers passed through the classmates behind you and your face fell at the implication. Potions partners with Beomgyu? For the whole year?

He seemed similarly stalled, not moving a single inch away from the front of the room until the professor cleared his throat pointedly.

“Right, sir, of course,” Beomgyu nodded, rushing over to the furthest of the high-top tables; unsuccessfully trying to hide the pain of his newfound limp. With a satisfied feeling in your chest you followed closely behind, finally unloading the weight of the books in your arms onto the table.

——

“How much worse could it get?” You groaned, laying your head in your arms at the dining table.

“Well, you could be sick, or failing a class, or not have any friends, or have lost your books. Hell, let’s not forget what it must have been like to go to school here at the same time as Harry Potter. I mean, no final exams for a few years, but at what cost? Grandpa Ron always tells me about-”

“Oh, good Merlin, Georgie, that’s not what I meant.” You picked your head up from the table and scanned the bustling hall. A large plate of sandwiches laid in front of you but your appetite was diminished in the presence of your stress. “I mean, how fucked is it that I have to spend every first period for the rest of the year brewing Potions alongside Choi? It’s bad enough that I hate Potions already, and now I’ll have to deal with his stupid, righteous, Slytherin-slandering ass!” You slammed your hand into the wooden table, shaking the plates and glasses near you under the force.

“Careful there,” Georgiana scolded around a mouthful of bread. “Just keep your head down, don’t react to him like you always do,” she paused to gulp down a sip of pumpkin juice, “he’ll give up eventually.” You heaved a heavy sigh, propping your chin onto the palm of your hand and scanning the Great Hall. Masses of students bustled around, sharing meals and laughing or gathering over homework problems. You weren’t quite sure who or what you were looking for, but all you found was a rowdy group of forth year boys sitting atop one of the tables, casting small hexes at one another and their lunches. You rolled your eyes at their antics before resigning to picking at the few fries on your plate.

“And if he doesn’t?” You mumbled, casting a pointed glare at a seemingly distracted Georgiana. It took her a second to shift her gaze back to your face, clearing her throat as she narrowed her eyes towards you.

“Sorry?” She asked, pulling a section of crust off of the third sandwich she’d picked up off of the platter.

“If he doesn’t give up? What am I supposed to do then?” The thought of living out the next two school years with Choi Beomgyu as a constant annoyance settled a pit of rage in your stomach. Georgiana was quiet for a moment, flicking a few locks of curled, fiery hair over her shoulder.

“Then you get back at him.” She shrugged. “You know you get a discount at the joke shop. Just go down there and pick up some puking pastilles or something.” She looked up again suddenly, eyes shimmering and focused intently on something behind you. Out of curiosity you turned on the spot, wondering if there was something of interest outside of the window, only to be met with the sight of Soobin standing mere feet away, hand stalled mid-wave. It didn’t take a genius to notice that the Hufflepuff was staring intently at your best friend, and she was happily returning the sentiment with a goofy grin on her face. You whipped back around to face her, leaning across the table as if the action would provide any secrecy with him so close.

“Are you and Soobin...” you wiggled your eyebrows at her and she swatted at your shoulder. Her cheeks blushed rosy as she whispered back, “He asked me if I’d want to hang out when we go to Hogsmeade this weekend.” Her voice shook as she spoke but you frowned instantly. Of course you were happy that he had finally manned up and the two of them were on the way to something akin to a date, but...

“First weekend Hogsmeade is our tradition!” You shouted, abandoning any secrecy you might have thought you’d maintained from Soobin.

“Y/N, please!” Georgiana hissed, glancing up at Soobin with an apologetic smile. “Just once. You can still come along, maybe you can bring someone too?” She offered, trying to placate your irritation. Her eyes continued sliding between you and Soobin as she waited for your response. You sank back onto the bench quietly, arms crossed over your chest.

“Fine.” You sighed. “I guess I can try to think of someone.” Georgiana’s face lit up as she stood from her seat and gathered her books back under her arm. She rounded the end of the table quickly, meeting up with Soobin just behind you. “Don’t think I’m not still irritated, Weasley!” You yelled after her even though she had turned her back to you. She stalled in her lockstep next to Soobin just long enough to turn her head and throw you a middle finger.

——

The day of your Hogsmeade visit came quicker than you anticipated, and of course you’d failed to find someone to fill the empty spot that would prevent you from third wheeling. Everyone you asked had either been otherwise busy, sick, or already going into Hogsmeade with other friends.

Georgiana, being the wonderful friend she was, made sure that you hadn’t felt left out on the walk into the village. Soobin was surprisingly good at keeping conversation despite his shy appearance, and the three of you had managed to share lunch and a few Butterbeers at The Three Broomsticks before Georgiana began giving you pointed glances. It took you an embarrassingly long time to recognize what her hand signals and mouthed words were conveying, but once you did you had excused yourself to wander the shops alone in a bid to give the lovebirds some privacy.

The weather was surprisingly pleasant, and as such the streets were lined with witches and wizards of all ages. Large throngs of students and families passed you by, and you couldn’t help but feel a bit like a fish swimming upstream as everyone pushed by. When you’d first stepped out you felt odd walking the cobbled street alone, considering you’d never made a solo trip to Hogsmeade for as long as you’d lived. Something about it was quite relaxing, though, as you realized you could enter any store and stay for any amount of time.

Once you’d wrestled your way through another group of oncoming students, you spotted an endearing baby blue storefront with deserts on display in the window. Many of them appeared to be muggle creations, and your mouth watered as you caught sight of a tray of fudgy brownies with a thick layer of chocolate icing. Your eyes had always been bigger than your stomach; so despite the fact that you’d just had lunch you find yourself stepping into the sweet smelling shop. An expansion charm helped stretch the store far beyond its dainty storefront, and you were met with the sight of even more display cases and tiered plates full of sweets.

A few other wizards mulled around the store, debating which treats to pick up and pack into the little green pastry boxes which were stacked at the entrance in a never ending supply. You balanced one of your own between your hands as you gathered up treats, sure to grab three of the very brownies that had brought you in to begin with. You packed in a few cookies that you found on a shelf near the back of the store and began to weigh your options between purchasing what appeared to be a type of muggle cake with specs of color floating about the white batter or a more familiar looking pumpkin pastry dusted with powdered sugar. You contemplated the two deserts for an amount of time that would have been embarrassing if you were in the presence of company.

“Wrackspurts on the brain?” A rush of hot breath inches away from the shell of your ear had you reeling, clutching your box of precious deserts to your chest. Of course you’d immediately identified the voice; you were just hoping that you were wrong as you shot daggers into the boy who’d spooked you. Beomgyu looked beyond pleased with himself: a hand cocked on his hip, fake glasses perched at the very end of his nose to perfectly top off the outfit he’d chosen. His robes hung open, one shoulder almost devoid of the fabric as it drooped onto his back. The maroon turtleneck he wore struck a perfect contrast with the golden undertones of his skin and matched impressively well to the emblem on his robes. He had tucked the turtleneck into the waistband of a pair of light wash jeans that made it hard not to marvel at the shape of his waist. The scent of his cologne was faint, overpowered by the sweetness of the shop, but you were picking up overwhelming scents of-

“Hello? Earth to Y/N?” He scrunched his nose as he studied you, waving gingerly like you would have at a child.

“Oh! Uh, I’m here, I’m here. What the hell do you want anyway?” You turned your attention back to the two pastries you’d been considering before his sneak attack in an attempt to keep yourself from looking back at his form.

“What’re you doing here alone? Out of friends? Did ya bore them all to death?” He had rounded to the opposite side of the table, forcing you to look at him straight on.

“I walked into Hogsmeade with Georgiana and Soobin, if you must know. They wanted some time alone so here I am.” You glanced up again to see him leaning casually against the table with one arm bracing his weight.

“I just have to point out that you’re also alone, Beomgyu. So I’m not quite sure why so keen on bashing me.” Your eyes skate over the deserts one final time before you decisively package up a slice of the muggle cake. The urge to celebrate the small victory was squashed by Beomgyu’s scoff.

“I’m here alone because I chose to be, not because my best friend is on a date and didn’t want a chaperone. Don’t you find that a little embarrassing?”

To be honest, you hadn’t considered it that way. You knew that finding a person to keep you from third wheeling had been your responsibility. But maybe he had a point. Although he was a constant nagging force, Beomgyu was insightful and intelligent. He’d helped you in class many times back when you were friends. Nervously, you nibbled at your bottom lip and considered his words carefully. Did Georgiana find your presence today embarrassing? She was surely too nice to tell you so, and there was no denying the tension in her face while she waited for you to leave The Three Broomsticks earlier. Your normally stoic face must have betrayed you, conveying that you were starting to feel hurt at the words that suddenly seemed to make so much sense.

“I was joking,” Beomgyu spoke up suddenly, rounding the table to once again be next to you. “Don’t take everything I say so seriously, Y/N. I’m beginning to worry for your sense of humor.” He picked up a couple of cookies with careful dexterity and settled them into the palm of his hand.

“Of course,” you concluded bitterly, taking a step back in a bid to get to the counter and buy your treats. “Must be my broken sense of humor and not just the fact that you’re an ass.” His face twisted unpleasantly as you stepped further away. He opened his mouth as if to say something, but you were already pivoting on the balls of your feet to make your way toward the front of the shop.

——

The evidence of the first frost of the season crunched underneath your feet as you hurried to class. As someone who prided themselves on showing up on time for classes every day, you were particularly embarrassed to have woken up with just twenty minutes to spare before the beginning of potions. There was no excuse, either. You had simply stayed up too late studying for the NEWT practice exam and forgot to set your alarm before lying down.

To make matters worse you’d greatly underdressed yourself, underestimating the absolute chill of the morning when you had peeled out from the window. Only now, as you found yourself feet away from the classroom did you feel the icy temperature begin to bite into your exposed skin. Your cheeks were numb with cold, and your hands shook as you pushed them under your arms for some amount of warmth. Luckily the classroom was warmer when you finally got to it. Guiltily, you grinned at your professor as he notably marked your attendance onto the scroll of parchment.

“Rough night?” Beomgyu asked under his breath as the professor launched into the lesson for the day. You kept your back turned to the boy in favor of writing down the list of ingredients that was being provided to you. A firm poke in the middle of your back had you turning on your stool, already silently fuming as you came face to face with Beomgyu.

“What?” You mouthed, trying your best not to alert your professor that neither of you were paying attention to him.

“You look awful,” he mouthed back, pulling the most exaggerated gagging expression you’d ever seen in your life. Your fingers twitched, resisting the urge to grab him by his necktie and slap him across his annoyingly perfect face. Instead you threw up your middle finger boldly, practicing a muggle tradition that wizards had become quite fond of. Beomgyu feigned shock, laying a hand over his heart and pretending to faint right there at his stool.

“-so you’ll be using this combination of potions for the group project, due in one weeks time.” Your professor concluded. Wide eyed, you spun back around on your stool only to see the words previously written on the board disappear with a flick of his wand. A group project? Potions, plural? You’d only taken notes on one mixture, and you were sure that Beomgyu hadn’t taken any notes at all. Although maybe the group project wasn’t among your table mate? Your heart fluttered as you prayed for that to be the reality, scanning your classmates to see if anyone got up to switch seats or combine tables.

Not a single soul moved.

“Guess it’s just us.” Beomgyu drawled from behind you.

“Did you take any notes?” You asked, fear running through your veins. If both of you were clueless, you’d have to ask the professor to explain everything to you again, which would only implicate the two of you for not paying attention to begin with.

Beomgyu shook his head and shrugged much too casually for a student who was in the dark about an entire project.

“I’ll just ask someone. Hey, Art-”

“No!” You scrambled for a rolled piece of parchment to hit him on the arm with before he could finish his shout across the classroom. “Please, do not scream across the room that we don’t know what we’re doing.” Your cheeks were flaming, anxiety and exhaustion building to a dangerous level in your bloodstream.

“Awe, are you ashamed to admit you were too busy talking to me to pay attention?” Beomgyu cooed, cradling his chin in his palms.

“No. I’m embarrassed that we’re the only ones not starting the work,” you glanced pointedly to all of the other tables where your classmates were hard at work on...something. Every table housed a slowly bubbling cauldron producing a steady stream of light grey smoke. The cauldron resting on the table between the two of you was alarmingly quiet, your stores of provided potion ingredients remaining untouched.

“Alright, Y/N. How about right now we work on the one you wrote down,” he points a finger at the parchment containing the list of notes you managed to take, “and I’ll talk to someone about the rest. Since you’re too proud to ask for help.” Without waiting for you to process the words he gripped the parchment between his fingers and pulled it toward the middle of the table. He mumbled a simple aguamenti under his breath and the cauldron filled with the perfect level of water. He then scrutinized the words for just a moment before he began to collect ingredients with a practiced ease, barely even glancing at the labels of the hefty glass containers. You’d never seen him quite as focused in a class as he was at the moment, his nimble fingers uncapping lids and measuring precise amounts of lacewing flies with a delicacy you never would have expected to come from the hands of Gryffindor’s star Beater.

One after the other, ingredients fell into the wrought iron cauldron, changing the color of the mixture from clear to an odd, murky green. You scrunched your nose in distaste but Beomgyu was nodding to himself in satisfaction, his fluffy hair bouncing back off of his forehead.

“Stop staring and start taking notes, Y/N.” His voice was casual but his lips were twisted in a smirk as you scrambled for both an excuse and a fresh roll of parchment.

“I wasn’t,” you defended as you begin to scribble out notes against the parchment, refusing to meet his eyes as the shame of being caught red-handed crawled up the back of your throat and stung behind your eyes. He simply hummed in acknowledgment and tossed in a few leaves of a plant you didn’t have time to identify into the bubbling mixture.

——

Impatiently, you tapped your foot against the stone floor. It echoed a sound that would have been satisfying in its consistency if it weren’t for the annoyance running through your veins. Beomgyu had promised to meet you in the west corner of the library today, at a prompt 7pm, in order to finish synthesizing your plan for the Potions project. You checked the clock on the wall again just in case you had somehow misread the hands only to find them confirming your suspicions. Beomgyu was blowing you off. He had suggested the time and place himself, and yet he couldn’t even have the decency to show up.

Anger blossomed in your chest as you stood to gather the things you’d brought along. Your chair scraped on the floor and attracted the stares of a few other students put you paid them no mind as you swore under your breath.

Of course Beomgyu had stood you up in the face of an important project. He was probably laughing away to his friends in the common room, boasting about how he’d left you sitting in the library like a fool. Once again he had proven himself to be an utterly useless and annoying human being that you wished you had never even met. Your teeth sunk into the supple flesh of your bottom lip so hard that blood pooled on your tongue, the bitter tang snapping you into action. The route to the Gryffindor common room was a familiar one, and the hatred brimming inside of you made your legs move even faster than usual, swearing under your breath as you finally came face to face with the portrait keeping you from entering the room.

“I don’t have time for any password- please just let me in. I’m looking for someone.” Your words came rushed, obviously annoyed as you crossed your arms over your chest.

“Now, you know that isn’t how this works, dear,” the painting asserted, crossing their arms to mimic your own stubborn pose. “I can’t let just anyone into the room. I’ve got,” the portraited stopped dead in its tracks and began counting on its fingers silently. “I’ve got 30 students inside right now, and it’s my job to protect them.” Your fists clenched at your sides over the stubborn portrait, fingers itching to grab your wand and level a badgering curse against the damned painting. It must have read the anger on your face as you fiddled with the fabric of your robes, as it’s booming voice came again;

“Tell me who you’re seeking, and I can tell you if I’ve seen them!” With your fingers still curled around your wand, it took a fair deal of restraint to leave it in your robe pocket. After a deep, steadying breath, you looked back up at the portrait. A beat of silence passed before you slathered on a sweet smile, clearing your throat to quell any remnants of your frustrated growl.

“I’m looking for Choi Beomgyu.”

The portrait took a moment to contemplate your words, squeezing its eyes tightly and tapping its fingers as you assumed it searched the students inside the Gryffindor common room and dorms.

“He’s not here.” It finally concluded, snapping its eyes back open to peer down at you again. Frustration flamed your skin red all the way to your hairline. Hogwarts and it’s grounds were extensive, and searching for him would surely take up your entire night.

“I did happen to see out Quidditch players heading down to the pitch around 5 o’clock, though.” Not needing any further ceremony, you turned on your heels and made your way toward the exit of the castle. The corridors were fairly empty, and the few students still milling around were quick to step out of your way as you hurried through them, robes flowing out behind you. Silently you thanked your lucky stars that no professors had been around to inquire about why you were rushing out of the castle in such a haste.

As soon as you set foot outside, you regretted not stopping by your dorm first to grab your coat and scarf. It had been three days since you woke up to the first frost, and the temperature had only continued to drop into frigid numbers. Even in the limited light provided by the setting sun you could see your breath fogging ahead of you. Cold air curled around your body, seeming to seep underneath your skin with a harsh ferocity. For now you simply tucked your hands deeper into the fabric of your robes, hoping that the heat of them in conjunction with your brisk pace would keep your body warm enough.

The walk to the Quidditch pitch was deceptively far when you traveled alone. Normally you were so distracted by conversation with your friends and the last minute bets between houses that you didn’t have time to mull over how many steps it took you to arrive at the stands; but today you were nothing short of pissed at how far away the compound had been built. Every step you took sent a shock of cold through your feet, your toes completely numb no matter how much you wiggled them inside your sneakers. The trees shuddered with you as you passed them, leaves spiraling to the ground as they finally give in to the pressure of the cold and resign themselves.

Finally you passed through the solid wood of the viewing stands, coming face to face with the expanse of the pitch in front of you. Totally empty. Not a single soul was to be found warming up on the grass or running practice games in the air. Upon listening, you couldn’t even hear any distant chatter that would indicate the team being huddled into the locker room.

“Shit!” A new wave of frustration crashed through your mind. Had you passed them on the way over? It was plausible that they had taken a different route back to the castle and your whole trip had been in vain. Exhausted, you leaned against the wall and listened to the whip of the banners against their metal poles, the clinking of their bindings matching with the steady, loud beat of your pulse. Just as you were about to turn and head back for the castle in your freezing shame, you heard another sound. This one was different, less uniform, almost like a grunt of exhaustion followed by a heavy thud. Your freezing feet moved almost without you to follow the noise. A vicious wind whipped your hair, mussing it up so badly that you had to stop in your tracks to gather it all back into place. You hazarded every step you took, unsure exactly where the source of the noise was coming from other than somewhere behind the stands. On your next step you heard the noise again, much closer this time, and the excitement of being close to solving this mystery had your footsteps speeding up.

Just as you rounded the curving stands, you spotted the culprit, still a little hard to make out due to the distance you had yet to cover, but the colors and shape of a Gryffindor Quidditch uniform were clear. Upon further inspection, it became obvious that the heavy thud you’d been hearing was a the heavy iron Bludger cracking against the magically reinforced bat. There were only two Beaters on the team, and one of them was the very man who’d forced you to walk into the frigid night. You continued your steady approach to the figure, morbidly curious over who it was that was out here pushing themselves to practice alone in the freezing cold.

“Hey!” You yelled as you edged closer, hoping to give whoever it may be a fair warning that you were approaching. Within three feet of the body, there was no mistaking it to be Beomgyu.

“Choi!” You raged, yelling much louder than required for him to hear you. The Bludger was sailing far away from the two of you with a strong hit as you closed the distance almost all the way. “I know you can hear me, asshat.” Beomgyu kept his eyes on the iron ball, effectively ignoring your words. In disbelief you glanced back and forth between his face-seeing the way his eyes narrowed in concentration as the Bludger came closer by the second.

“Is this where you’ve been all night? Playing Quidditch while you were supposed to meet me in the library?” A strong gust of wind knocked the air out of you, shivers running down your spine as you waited for any response from the boy. The Bludger came whistling back toward the two of you, and in the split second you had the foresight to step back he had tensed his shoulders, gripped the end of his bat and took another strong and precise hit against the Bludger, sending it even further away than the last one.

“Lost track of time.” He supplied absentmindedly, turning his head to regard you with lazy eyes.

“What?” You seethed, stepping forward again, placing yourself in front of his frame in hopes of appearing somewhat intimidating. “You lost track of time? Let’s talk about the fact that out project is due in four fucking days, and all we have to show is a single god damn Potion. This was your responsibility,” you pushed your pointed finger into the front of his uniform, the fabric giving way to allow you to feel the firmness of his chest underneath. “I trusted you with the single task of making sure that we could figure out the rest of this project, and you fucked up!” Tears of frustration rimmed your eyes as the worry of failure overwhelmed you. As much as you hated Potions, you’d be damned if Choi Beomgyu became the reason you do poorly.

“Listen, I seriously did just forget,” he pushed at your shoulders forcefully, to which you planted your feet into the ground harder. “Seriously, Y/N, I forgot! Now move!”

“No! You are not,” you grabbed at his forearm and pulled it off of your shoulder, “going to blow me off again! We are going to work on this project right now, even if its the last thing I do!”

“It’s about to be if you don’t fucking move!” He yelled, finally managing to uproot your feet and push you off to the side with so much force that you landed flat on your ass, the cold hardness of the ground knocking the breath out of your lungs. From the ground, you watched helplessly while Beomgyu scrambled to grab his bat in time to hit the whirring Bludger. He was a quick enough thinker to see that there was no way he’d make the move in time, so he simply did the next best thing- turning his back to the ball and ducking his head into his chest, covering the back of his neck with his arms.

With a sickening crack, the Bludger made foul contact with Beomgyu’s back, striking just below his left shoulder blade. The force knocked him forward, his hands barely catching himself as he met the ground harshly. He cried out in pain, the sound bouncing around the stands and piercing your veins. In a hurry, you crawled toward his heaving body and urged him to sit up with the guidance of your hands.

“Are you okay?” The words rushed out of you in a hurry, panic crawling up the back of your throat at the shine of tears streaming down his reddened cheeks.

“Wh-what the hell do you think?” He groaned, body shaking as he struggled to even take a breath.

“Okay, right. Dumb question. Let’s get you to the infirmary, yeah?” His legs shook as he got them under him, something akin to a baby deer taking its first few steps. Instinctively you shot out an arm to steady him, looping your arm behind his back as effectively as you could given the height difference and placement of his injury.

“Merlin, I think I broke my shoulder blade,” he groaned, stumbling across the uneven ground with trepidation.

“You didn’t, I watched. It actually hit right below your shoulder blade, so if anything it’s just bruised, and you probably won’t even need a bone-healing spell, so recovery should be little more than some Devil’s Claw for the pain and-”

“Did someone cast a babbling curse on you? Merlin’s beard. It’s bad enough that you got me hit to begin with, and now I have to listen to you run your mouth!’ His voice was still pinched with pain, an octave lower than normal as he gritted his teeth. The two of you finally reached the threshold of the castle, encapsulated by the warmth of the torches littered all inside.

“I’m trying to help! Did you ever consider the fact that if you had showed up to our scheduled meeting time, you could have avoided being hit. I could have avoided freezing all of my extremities off, and I wouldn’t have to be helping your ass to the infirmary.”

The noise of your bickering outside of the infirmary wing attracted the nurse to the hallway, who furrowed her eyebrow in silent question over the two of you.

“He got hit by a Bludger, ma’am,” you supply as soon as you see her. Her eyes widen instantly as she rushed forward, helping you guide Beomgyu into an empty cot. She shooed you aside as she fretted over him, asking questions about the incident in a low, steady tone before nodding seriously. Without any kind of warning, Beomgyu was pulling the fabric of his uniform over his head, leaving his top half bared to you. Your cheeks burned, and you cleared your throat nervously. The nurse was too busy prodding at the blossoming bruise to have heard your stutter, but Beomgyu was nothing if not aware.

His dark eyes found your form standing just a few paces away, staring unabashedly at the faint hint of his abs that had become visible.

“Somethin’ you like?” He drawled playfully, snapping you out of your reverie.

“Merlin, no.” You sneered, hoping to cover the thickness of your tone as you swallowed hard. “Just trying to decide if I should tell the Quidditch team to get their backup trained for the game tomorrow night.” Beomgyu’s face fell at the implication of your words and a sting of regret struck your heart.

“There will be no need for a backup, dear,” the nurse cooed, shuffling her feet as she gathered up a few healing supplies. She offered a bottle of innocent looking clear liquid to Beomgyu and he drank it instantly, grimacing at what you assumed to be a foul taste. “Now, dear, if you don’t fancy seeing your boyfriend in more pain as I heal him-”

“Please. He is not my boyfriend. I just helped him get here. I’ll be going now, anyway. See you tomorrow?” You asked pointedly, hoping he would understand your incessant need to finish the Potions project. He nodded slightly, and you scanned Beomgyu’s form one more time before excusing yourself to the nurse and scurrying back to your dorm.

——

“I better hear a thank you.” Beomgyu asserted as soon as he slumped in the seat across from you. He had been so quiet in his approach to the table that you hadn’t heard him until now, rocketing your gaze up towards him from the pages of your Transfiguration book.

“Beomgyu,” you breathed, relieved to see that he had been healed and able to return to classes just the morning after the Bludger hit. You schooled your features into cool indifference as soon as you saw his mouth twitch up at the sound of his name. “For what am I thanking you? Withholding information about the project?”

“No,” he shook his head, springing a few carefully parted hairs loose from their spot. “For- number one-” he paused dramatically, drumming his bony fingers against the edge of the high-topped table, “providing you all the information for finishing this project.” Out of seemingly nowhere he produced a thick roll of parchment that unrolled to reveal a step by step explanation. Pages of carefully written instructions went into great detail on every step of the potions that needed to be made. A sense of relief and happiness washed through you, enough to make your hands curl into excited fists as you beamed.

“Turns out our Seeker is good at more than catching a Snitch. She got the highest marks in this class last year, and agreed to share the notes with me.”

“Thank you, Beomgyu. Seriously. I was beginning to worry.”

“I know, I know. It feels good to be your savior, Y/N. Oh, which reminds me of reason number two; the fact that I spared you a Bludger hit last night.”

“I thought we’d already covered this. Most of that encounter was your fault. Plus, your little shove left me with a bruise of my own on my ass.” Pouting, you shifted your weight in an attempt to alleviate the pain against said bruise.

“Just admit it, Y/N,” he leaned forward, his face mere inches from your own so as not to be heard by anyone around. “You’re indebted to me. Two times over.” He was cocky, but you had to admit he had a point. As much grief as he had caused you, he had saved you from both a failing grade and an injury in just under 24 hours.

“You’ve got a point.” Beomgyu shrunk back into his seat, cocking his head to the side as if he hadn’t heard you correctly. It seemed like he was waiting for a witty remark or some kind of argument to his words, but you kept a sure, steady gaze on him instead. Either your eyes were playing tricks on you or there was a slowly building flush of red blooming from under the collar of his cable-knit sweater onto his cheeks. Against your will, your mind reproduced the image of his bared chest from last night.

“What do I owe you?” The question rolled off of your tongue like butter as you took the chance to lean forward to him, balancing carefully on your stool with your elbows planted onto the table.

“I-I just,” Beomgyu frowned at his stutter, apparently upset by his own lack of confidence. His mouth opened and closed again in quick succession and you grinned wider. Another teasing lilt was right at the tip of your tongue, but the booming voice of your professor cracked the tension wide open and had you sitting back on your stool.

——

Two days later, you stand behind your stool in Potions class, wringing your hands together nervously. Your portly professor had spent all morning swirling around the class, leaning over the cauldrons and vials present at every table. He muttered a few things to every pair of students, nodding along as they explained their approach to him. It seemed as if he were grading on the spot, since you caught a glimpse of a quill gliding over a small strip of parchment.

Finally the elder approached your table, bushy eyebrows pinched into one another as he had already begun to scrutinize the potions laid out for him. He said nothing as he approached, quietly appraising your work. One by one, he picked up the vials one by one, peering through the clear bottom and giving them an experimental swirl. He hummed happily to himself and your heart soared. Across the table you noticed Beomgyu looking equally pleased. The professor set down the vials one by one before leveling his gaze onto you.

“How do you think you did?” He questioned, producing the same thin strip of parchment you’d seen him use at other tables. Palms sweating, you stole a glance at Beomgyu who gave you an encouraging wave of his hand.

“I think we did quite well, professor. It took us a bit to get the whole project together, but I feel confident in our end results here.” Nervously, your eyes skated down to his quill, tapping against the parchment rhythmically.

“Well, I think you did quite well, the two of you. These potions are near perfect. Couldn’t make them any better myself.” It felt as if the air had been sucked from your lungs, shocking you beyond belief. Never once in your life did you think you’d be receiving such high marks in Potions- especially with Beomgyu as your partner. Your professor marked a delicate “A+” on the small strip of parchment.

Beomgyu threw a triumphant fist in the air, wiggling in his spot with pure excitement. Your professor let out a belly laugh, spinning around to address the entire class.

“I didn’t want to advertise this since I wanted you all to put in your best, pure efforts to the project. But, now that I’ve reviewed everyone’s work and determined the best,” you swapped a look of confusion with Beomgyu, both assuming that he was referring to you. “I am offering an award to our friends at Station 1!” He motioned to the two of you wildly, robes flailing as you ushered to the front of the room. Your peers glared at the two of you, but you were too far onto cloud nine to care.

“Good thing I got those notes, huh?” Beomgyu muttered to you. Your eyes rolled to the back of your head.

“Good thing I spent all last night making sure we actually had the potions to present.” Keeping your voice low and level to keep him from sensing just how grateful you were for his efforts. The class murmured lowly, surely trading snide remarks about the two of you until the professor cleared his throat pointedly.

From the pocket of his robes, the professor pulled out two small, clear vials. One was pressed into each of your palms, and you stared up at him with confusion. Maybe this was a sign you should have paid more attention to the types of potions around you.

“Luck potions, please use them carefully” he supplied helpfully, swirling back around to face the entire class. “Now, who’s willing to take a photo of me and our winners?” The professor bellowed, producing an old film camera from somewhere and brandishing until someone shuffled off of their stool.

——

Fresh, fluffy snow floated down in gentle waves outside the window. It was the thick of winter now, and despite your best efforts to bundle up you were still huddling into yourself for warmth as students shuffled into Potions around you. Everyone seemed especially lethargic, yearning for the break from classes that Christmas promised. You laid your head onto your folded arms, feeling just as exhausted as the atmosphere suggested.

Sleep had been evading you lately, annoyingly deceptive as you would lay down in bed tired only to be kept awake by your racing mind for several hours. Somehow settling into your arms in this classroom was the most content you’d felt in days. And then you felt a firm push at the back of your head. There was no mistaking who the perpetrator was, especially as you heard the scrape of a stool directly across from you.

“Good morning to you too, Beomgyu.” He was perched perfectly on his stool, eyes wide and bright. For as long as you’d known him, he had thrived in the cold and the snow. “You are obnoxiously cheerful. God damn Gryffindors.”

“Not my fault you’re such a grouch. But I guess it is true that snakes don’t like the cold.”

“Do you ever let up? Or do you get pleasure out of ruining my mood every single morning?”

A grin cracked his lips as a short laugh bubbled through. “Thinking about my pleasure, are you? Concerned I’m not getting enough? I can assure you that-”

“Okay, gross. Stop. Enough. You know that isn’t what I meant.” Quite honestly, you had no time to endure his usual teasing so you simply turned your body away from him, idly watching the professor gather his things at the desk.

“Right, let’s get going! We need all the time we can manage today!” He seemed more jubilant than usual as he centered his own cauldron onto the middle of his desk. “Today we’ll be making love potions. Amortentia, you may know. If you’ll open to page 104, you can find the procedure. It is important to note that this potion cannot make anyone truly fall in love, but it does create a strong attraction to whomever you make with it in mind. Of course, the full effect doesn’t apply unless it is consumed. Today we will simply be brewing it for practice. If done correctly, the potion will emulate-”

“The scent of what you find most attractive,” you muttered absent mindedly, reading directly off of the page you had open in your lap.

“Exactly, miss Y/N. Your potion today will smell like what you find most appealing.” He nodded proudly. A feeling of anxiety rose in your chest as he rattled on. No matter how hard you tried you couldn’t think of the type of scents that would come from the potion. You were quite fond of some scents in candle form, but you wouldn’t classify them as...attractive. Even more worrying was the idea that no matter how hard you tried, you would have to reveal this concoction in front of Beomgyu, who took every chance presented to torment you. Your professor clapped his hands together, marking the beginning of your working period.

The instructions were simple enough, so you took extra care to be sure that the measurements were as perfect as you could get them. The room was shrouded in a hushed silence that indicated everyone was working hard on this. After all, this was the most exciting potion that’d been offered to you all year.

“Can’t wait to see which poor dude you have a crush on,” Beomgyu chuckled as he stirred his pot exactly three times counter-clockwise.

“Could say the same for you! I seriously petty whichever girl you’ve been fancying. Imagine being at the receiving end of your...ick. You’d better tell me who it is so I can send them a warning.” You stirred your pot the same way he had, watching the mixture turn to a stereotypical bright pink. The instructions lead you to allow the mixture to culminate for exactly two minutes before any results could be sought.

The students who happened to work faster than you were already taking a sniff at their potions and recording the scents on their parchment, some pairs gossiping amongst one another about what they smelled. A clank of metal had you whipping your head upwards, locking eyes with Beomgyu as adjusted his small cauldron to bend over his potion. Since it wasn’t your own, there was no scent for you to distinguish, but you watched the way his eyes widened in shock for a second.

Unfortunately you had no time to process his expressions before you had to examine the contents of your own cauldron. Before you could even take a deliberate sniff, your senses were rushed with a mix of sweetened musk, a wood that seemed somewhere between cedar and mahogany, and an addicting citrusy undertone that you eventually recognized as bergamot. You placed it immediately.

“Merlin, Beomgyu. Could you refrain from spraying your cologne right now? Why are you even carrying it with you in the middle of-” The words died in your throat as you realized how incriminating your words had become, seeing as Beomgyu had nothing but his quill in his hands. A feeling of sickness rose in the back of your throat as he let out a hearty laugh.

“My cologne, huh? I actually didn’t even have time to put any on today,” he peered over at your parchment, his height allowing him to easily read the fragrance notes you had scribbled before complaining. “But those are the exact notes of what I wear.”

Your cheeks flamed, the heat radiating so fully through your system that you felt yourself begin to sweat despite how cold you’d been before. There was no worse fate than this, you decided. Amortentia had betrayed you, putting you under the mercy of Beomgyu’s knowing stare. Fuck, did he really have to find out now that the smell of his cologne secretly drove you crazy? That as much as you hated the way he teased and antagonized you, somewhere deep down you’d never quite lost the crush you developed in second year?

“I was beginning to think you might’ve had a crush on me, Y/N. Isn’t that so sweet! The stony little Slytherin finally realizing that she’s attracted to me...this is quite the revelation!” Beomgyu lamented, obviously overjoyed at the new ammo he could load into his teasing.

As much as you searched, you could find no words to defend yourself, as the proof was truly in the potion. A bit defeated, you sunk back into your stool, content to bury your face into your hands until your next class began; but at your new level you could see Beomgyu’s own piece of parchment scrawled with what he had smelled. Reading them upside down was a bit of a challenge, but he was too busy complimenting himself to recognize your analytical stare. Written in a neat list were the scents: sage, some type of berry (juniper?), eucalyptus, something woody (cedar?).

Your heart stuttered, a bitter laugh threatening to spill out and give yourself away. Skillfully you held it back, cursing to any god or deity who might be listening. The notes matched up exactly with the perfume you wore every single day.

——

“You asked him why he sprayed his cologne?” Georgiana gaped at you across the table in the Great Hall. The two of you had joined up for lunch just hours after your Potions class disaster.

“Yes, but that’s not all! Just before I melted into a puddle of my own dispair, I saw his list, and I swear to Merlin it’s the exact notes of my perfume! Look,” you produced the travel-sized bottle from your pocket, flipping it to the back label and listing off the exact ingedients.

“Wow,” Georgiana nodded, sinking her teeth into a piece of pizza. “That’s quite remarkable.”

“Why are you not giving me more of a reaction?” You whined, stomping your foot against the floor petulantly. She raised an eyebrow high, taking a few more chews at her food.

“You want me to be honest? Or nice?” She asked, weighing the invisible options on her hands in front of you.

“Honest, I guess.”

“Oh, I was hoping you’d pick that one. You see, my sweet Y/N, the two of you have been dancing around this for years. Even though you renounced him all those years ago, I still talk to him on occasion. Not to mention he’s friends with Soobin, so I’ve been provided with some...insider information. To be honest, Soobin and I have both been waiting for the day the two of you finally stopped bickering and like...made out.”

Your face twisted unpleasantly, shocked at her words. “Insider information?” You croaked, creases forming in your forehead. Georgiana smiled devilishly and you swore you could see red horns rising from her fiery hair.

“Beomgyu talks about you all the time. Apparently, back when he was dating Klara, he would often talk to Soobin about how she never bantered with him like you did. They broke up because he kept comparing her to you. Told Soobin that he’s had a crush on you just as long as you have, but he thought you thoroughly hated him.”

“He has a crush on me?” You sputtered, stomach twisting into knots somewhere between disbelief and excitement. Georgiana full on laughed upon seeing your face, the cackle permeating through the air and turning heads.

“Well, I’m not gonna be the one to bring it up. If he’s got a crush on me, he can bring it up.” You suddenly decide, finally indulging in the pizza that had been waiting for you since you sat down.

“That’s my girl, stubborn to the very end.” Georgiana grinned and offered her hand for a high five that you eagerly returned.

——

The weekend brought you a much needed break from both schoolwork and all things Beomgyu related. Christmas break was fast approaching, and all of your professors had surprisingly laid off on assignments. It seemed as if they were just as tired of grading as you were of doing the work.

Unsurprisingly you found yourself in the library, sitting underneath the twinkling of the fairy lights set up especially for the holidays. Most other students were out socializing, so the room was pleasantly vacant. As a result you were able to settle into one of the plush velvet couches that were usually occupied.

After roaming the aisles you’d found an anthology of wizard poetry that piqued your interest. Settling beteeen the cushions of the couch with a book made you feel the most at home you ever had, cracking open the delicate binding and balancing the book in your stomach as you began to read.

There was no way to tell how long you’d been reading, but by your estimations it was only about 20 minutes before someone was looming above you. Startled, you lifted your gaze over the book to see none other than Beomgyu standing before you. He was decked out in a sage green sweater paired with slightly oversized beige slacks. He had forgone his robes, but his Head Boy pin still shined on the breast of his shirt. Typical.

“Can I help you?” You asked, finally sitting up to regard him.

“I thought you’d be here.” He said simply, shuffling on his feet awkwardly. You blinked.

“That doesn’t answer my question,” you poked, slipping your book shut dramatically. “Did you want to ask me something?” Beomgyu licked at his lips before rubbing his fingers against his forehead.

“Merlin, why do you make everything so hard?” He groaned and seemingly became so exhausted that he collapsed onto the ornate rug under his feet. Seeing that you’d riled him up so much by doing practically nothing sent excitement through your veins. As much as the bickering annoyed you, there was no denying the thrill you felt when giving him back a taste of his medicine.

“What exactly am I making so hard? I don’t even know what you’re here for. To be honest I’m shocked you managed to find me in the library. I figured you would start to burn at the door and have to find a different way in.”

Beomgyu rolled his eyes, a hint of a smirk playing at his pillowy lips.

“Don’t act like you don’t know why I’m here.” He finally began to reveal the award winning smile you’d come to know whenever he teased you. “I know what Georgiana told you.” His voice was low, so quiet that if there had been any other souls in the library you’d have missed it.

Your eyes flew open and he flushed instantly. “You two aren’t exactly quiet at the Great Hall, and I’ve got more than a few friends.” It was your turn to flush red, wondering just how many conversations between you and Georgiana had been overheard by other people.

“So you know that I said...”

“Why do you think I’m here? All it took was me knowing you also...you know,” he picked at the nonexistent loose threads in the carpet. Honestly, you were shocked at how reserved he had become in the face of this confrontation. All traces of his usual confidence seemed to have vanished in the moment.

“I do like you, Beomgyu. I had a massive crush on you in second year, but then we got into that fight and-”

“I wouldn’t call it a fight,” he countered animatedly. “You just never understood my humor. All this time, I was hoping that you would catch the hints.”

“Hints?” It felt like your eyes were going to fall out of your head with how wide you held them. “You call those hints? I’d call those lackluster clues, at best.”

He was quiet for a moment, examining the smirk on your lips carefully. In a moment of impulse you slid off of the couch to sit opposite him on the floor, knees touching. Your heart hammered against your ribs.

“I’m sorry,” he muttered, gripping at his thighs nervously. “Didn’t know how else to go about it.”

“That’s okay, me either, obviously.” A rueful laugh escaped your lips, and he returned one just as easily. Up this close, the planes of his face were defined by the delicate light provided from the fairy lights. Shyly you shared glances, neither of you knowing quite how to deal with the charged anticipation in the air.

“Will you...come to the last Quidditch game tomorrow?” He finally spoke, snapping your attention back to him.

“Only if I don’t have to wear one of your ugly jerseies.” Feeling bold, you leaned forward just a few inches, beginning to close the gap between you gradually.

“Fine,” he acquised, leaning forward just the same as you had, his breath fanning hot over your face. “In exchange for not wearing a jersey, how about you...” he tapped at his lips cheekily. A surge of excitement tumbled through you.

“That’s a shit way of asking me to kiss you for the first time, Choi.” Nevertheless you leaned forward further, bumping your nose against his own before you finally pecked him firmly on the lips. You felt ridiculously shy, like you were having your first kiss all over again, but Beomgyu smiled reassuringly, pulling your hands into his own and linking them together. The touch encouraged you both, and your lips collided with more assurance than before.

The faint scent of pumpkin juice lingered on his lips, and you wondered how many bottles he’d drank before finally deciding to come find you. Finally you both sought a new breath, taking a moment to close your eyes and collect yourself. When they fluttered back open you saw Beomgyu staring back at you intently, pupils reflecting the strands of lights strung above you.

He mumbled something so quietly that you couldn’t even hear it at your close distance.

“What was that?” You asked, wondering if you’d caught the end of a charmingly romantic thought.

“I said you’re in need of practice.” He smirked, leaning back of his hands cockily.

“Fuck you, man,” you slapped at his shoulder with a firm clap. He gasped, a hand covering his heart as if he were being sworn into a committee.

“Already? I didn’t take you for such an impure heart!” Another hearty laugh bounced around the library and you ducked your head into your hands, resigning to the fact that you were stuck with him.

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lale-txt · 2 years

Note

Hello there! Would you have any recommendations for one piece writing blogs to follow? I love your writing and thought anyone you follow must be really good too!

thank you, dear! there are so many talented writers out there, i don't think i can name them all. but i can give you an incomplete list of "lovely people i interacted with that also happen to be amazing writers like wtf you're really blessing my eyes and soul for FREE with your thoughts? i'm kissing your eyes for that and hold you gently in my big yaoi hands" yeah

i always considered writing something very lonely but these people changed my mind on that. buckle up friends because i'm now gonna hold you all up lion king style to the world in alphabetical order

☽ @cherryblossom-chopper liv is so good at what she does. i love reading the match-ups she's doing atm because you can tell that she gives them lots of thought and passion. will also never forget that she requested Robin once from me which made me super happy

☽ @coraterve VEN. ven made me throw my phone away while reading several times because it was just so. good. SO GOOD. i still come back to that one headcanons with Rayleigh from last month because... because. (opens new tab)

☽ @cyborg-franky franky is a cyborg for real because how else can you write so much per day? with endless creativity? and still hold so much kindness in you? turned me into a Thatch simp, but careful, might aggressively adopt you on the spot.

☽ @dxvilmanlev i come running into lev's ask box everytime they announce a new event; and the events are always so cool and creative. loved especially poetry one! and ofc i love coming up with headcanons together, always pure joy.

☽ @flameboyace everytime rim posts new headcanons i'm up in my seat, ready to smash the like button, even if it's for characters i usually don't enjoy much (mingo, sorry). also a pleasure to talk to, hehe.

☽ @fire-fist-ann an angel! really pours their heart into writing, you can tell. i also enjoy coming up with headcanons together. also has the highest caffeine intake of everyone i know, might just be able to kill gods.

☽ @kaizokuwritings meli is a sweetheart & so good at everything she does, i live for her "the weekly thirst" series and her mini scenarios, how can you write a tiny paragraph that is still so powerful? amazing. also gave me feelings for momonga somehow?

☽ @log-p0se seeing po on my dashboard always make me super happy because i know that it will once again be amazing writing, she never disappoints. i admire the way she writes dialogue, it feels very natural. also the spicy headcanons? i have to lie down everytime after.

☽ @mimi-ya i always grab popcorn and get into a relaxing position whenever mimi shares new stuff, everything she throws out there is so amazing! which reminds me that i still have to fill out the form to request a birthday fic from her for me next month, hehe.

☽ @misao-writes i live for their headcanons, still make me holler as if i read them for the first time. will also show you their drawing of a chonky birb if you ask nicely.

☽ @missallsundaes the sheer excitement when they announced their return to writing aaahhhh!! a lovely and soft soul, radiates pure comfort. also their smut scenarios kill me everytime. would love to get a hug for them.

☽ @pure-kirarin kirarin completely turned my view on Sabo upside down. the slow & steady fic? gold. pure gold. i'm often struggling with focusing on long fics but this truly captured me!

☽ @secretsnailor whenever i feel proud for finishing a 1k word scenario, bee comes around and hits me with her 4k+ word fics that are all pure masterpieces. as mentioned, i struggle to focus on long fics but not with bee's, i just devour them whole.

☽ @simp4ace the sweetest! i am so happy that she started sharing her writing here more often because they make me laugh everytime! also a pleasure to talk to, i hope we can one day share a meal together, hehe.

☽ @strawhat-bast just love everything she puts out there. i giggled a lot over her Thatch headcanons about not expecting a confession from their crush. one of the people that make me so happy to be part of the writing community here.

☽ @sugxrslushy i just love the way maxx writes and how kind they treat every request and ask! has also super cool and creative events often which i admire. the match ups are always on point, you can tell they write them with love.

☽ @tsunderedoctor purple was also one of the first people i interacted with, a very good and kind noodle! amazing writer, everything is just *chef's kiss*, i always come running when i see her posting something new with my favs.

☽ @ztarvokwrites highly recommended if you have feelings for a certain candleman? also super excited for their 12 days under the mistletoe event, i came running as soon as i saw that requests were open.

#one piece writing #it got long oops #wanted to use the opportunity to show my affection because i feel like i don't do that enough #also HOLLA IF I FORGOT U IT WAS NOT MY INTENTION

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thoughtfullyrainynightmare · 2 years

Text

Money and Loyalty

Black Clover mafia!AU

I was hit hard by brainrot today because of fanart I saw and I... had to.... So. Have this. I might turn it into a series, but for now I just need to put this somewhere. I’m also trying a bit of something new with this piece.

Also, if you want Yami mafia!AU @bowandcurtsey has a wonderful series with Yami x reader in a mafia!AU

Warnings: It is mafia!AU so everything one might expect with it. Mentions of blood, swearing, implies violence, talk about death, implied depression and suicidal thoughts, suggestive content (maybe smut later on, but this part is purely suggestive), mentions of weapons and fighting. *Proceed with caution.*

Reader: Intended female reader at 1st person point of view

Length: ~2.2k

It’s humid. And cold. Though nothing more could be expected from a damp, abandoned warehouse at the docks.

At least I think it’s the docks. The air is… far too humid for it to be in the city. And besides, what kind of a warehouse of this size would sit abandoned in the middle of the city? Though… it’s not like it’s actually abandoned. Just my luck huh? Well… not exactly. Luck has nothing to do with it, I suppose. I just had to-, had to! Try and be quick about it. You’d think that all these years of being a part of the Purple Orca’s, you’d learn a thing or two.

Actually, I can’t say that I hadn’t. Gueldre don taught that all that matters is money. Because loyalty can be bought, with money or blood. Currency is flexible like that. It’s not necessarily all about the green, the gold, or the plastic.

A small smile curled onto my lips as I thought about it, the amusing way of how Gueldre talked about bank cards as plastic. He was right, it wasn’t about that. To be fair, I didn’t know what it was about. Maybe it was just about being tired.

Maybe I was just so… so god damn tired of this shit. The mafia. This city. The city of Clover was beyond saving. But there was no reason to think it’d be any better anywhere else. Diamond City was just as bad, maybe worse. There it was just the city council being infiltrated by the big players in town, which then turned the city into their personal playground. There were a few, smaller, other gangs, but they all died down, or migrated, little by little.

Spade City… there was hardly any organized crime. It sounds nice when you say it like that, but the good thing about ‘organized crime’ is that it’s ‘organized’. In Spade it’s just all the little players trying to climb on top. The city is in chaos, the last I heard. And I have no interest in confirming the rumours myself.

Heart City… Nothing comes out of Heart City. If one manages to enter in the first place. So, what goes in Heart City, what happens in Heart City, stays in Heart City. It just sounds like one big gamble. Even if they say that the top dog there is a donna, not a don.

Who knows what she had to do to get there… And women… are savage. I should know.

I smiled again at the thought, still keeping my head low.

My hands were tied behind the chair on which I sat. Or barely sat. Slumped forward was the right way to put it. The rope, it was so rough, coarse, and it kept digging into my skin every time I as much as tried moving my hands.

These guys, they were no first timers. There was no wriggling away from these, not even with these wrists of mine. Plus… they took all my weapons.

Or.. well. With one exception, but there is no way of getting to it as long as I’m bound anyhow.

The only strange thing is with my legs. They’re bound too, but they’re bound together, and that package is tied to one leg of the chair. My knees are at a slant, and tied to the opposite side of the chair from my ankles. This weird ass knot, as if they’d be forcing my legs to be ‘lady like’.

The thought was almost enough to make me laugh. ‘Cause there are no ladies in this city.

…Yeah. There’s no ladies in this city.

Then again… maybe I should laugh. Maybe this would be over quicker, if I laughed.

Maybe… then I wouldn’t be so… so tired anymore.

“You seem to think that you can just sneak in, and spy on our operations,” the voice was low, commanding. Like taffeta. Velvet. A silken heavy fabric.

It was almost unreal. Maybe it was unreal. Maybe this was all a dream, from which I’d wake up to a nightmare. And that soft, heavy, voice of authority was just a dream; something I wanted to hear.

“And you seem amused by the fact that you got this far,” the voice continued; almost as if an afterthought. But this time there was a harshness to it, as if insulted.

As I lift my head, I see a broad back. I see a glimpse of light auburn hair, though given the rather poor lighting of the room, it must’ve been more like fire than auburn. The flames of a campfire, late at night. Like those treasured nights of childhood when I went camping with my father, just to see stars. A strange memory. Or, rather, a wonderful, good memory, at a strange time.

I know who it is. God damn it. Of course I know who it is. I just… didn’t expect this to be so big. This was supposed to be a side operation for them. Something I could handle. Because, though it doesn’t add up to much, I am one of the best middle rank soldata in all of Purple Orcas. Or maybe one of the lowest in the pecking order, out of the top rank. It depends who you ask really. Gueldre never says those things. Not to those who don’t matter anyhow.

And it just had to-, it had to be the Vermillion don’s operation I crashed.

There’s enough stories on the streets to make a lot of the lesser ranking gangs stay clear from the Crimson Lion Kings. The regular foot soldiers are tough to beat as they are, but the Don? They say that he has made a pact with fire itself. That his eyes are like brimstones, and his discipline as hard and relentless as granite. It does not waver, does not budge. They say that so many people have tried to kill him, but all have failed. And all that tried, died by his hand. Personally.

One guy got close once. The don of Golden Dawn. But there’s barely been sightings of him ever since then. Some say that he’s really dead, and that he paid for the attempt with his life, like the rest. The top dog of the most feared gang, was outmatched.

And that’s just the don. The donna. Don Fuegoleon Vermillion’s sister was even more fearsome. Though some suspected that it was more of a fable than anything else. Those people most often went to say that the donna was a fable to begin with, because Crimson Lion Kings barely had women in their ranks. So, for someone to have reached top tier, would have been nearly impossible. ‘A proper demon from hell’, they said.

But the man in front of me, of whom I could only catch a glimpse, was very real.

“Maybe because it is,” I replied, finally straightening my posture, somehow finding the strength to do so. “Quite frankly I didn’t think that it’d be so easy to get this close.” I didn’t really know why I said that, eye’s half lidded, mouth agape just a tiny bit. My head still felt dizzy, and my lips felt swollen. And my hair must’ve been a mess.

There was a pause as his eyes burned into me. It seemed like he was trying to peer right down to my soul. But his eyes weren’t brimstones. They were… I’m not what they were… A shade of purple? Or black? It was so difficult to tell in the lack of light.

“Arrogant of you to say that,” he commented, while again turning his back to me; his hand beginning to undo the buttons of his shirt. And as he did, one by one, the lower the white fabric glided over his well tone, muscular, back.

God… in some other reality I would have loved to run my fingers over his skin, over those muscles, light as a feather. Just my fingertips dancing over him as I whisper sweet nothings to his ear. His breathing would be low, and steady, peaceful.

But that reality wasn’t this one. This reality was right here and now, and I’m going to die. Though I’ll first suffer, and then I’ll get to die.

“No…” I spoke with a hushed tone, which came out more tantalizing than I anticipated. Maybe it was just being light headed. “Just realistic.”

“Realistic?” He asked with a quirked eyebrow, now turning around to face me without a shirt. But I can’t really blame him. It’s difficult to get blood off of white fabric. Comes with the job really.

“Mhm,” I nodded, barely succeeding. “There is no reason why a single person should get this close. Other than being careless y’know. Though, you did do a pretty good job at downplaying the operation, which is why the whole… solo mission. But it doesn’t excuse the fact that I am here.” It was cocky of me to say that. It really was. But it was also true. There was no reason for me being here, right now.

“You have a loose tongue, it seems,” he commented with that sultry tone of his, now standing in front of me.

“Not really,” I commented. “Me telling you what you did wrong, is just saying out loud something you already know. It’s not really giving you new information.”

He paused. The men at the side shifted their weight, almost as if they wanted to say something, do something. But. They didn’t dare. Not while their Boss was there.

“Then maybe you’d tell me what your boss did wrong,” he suggested. But I know that it’s not a suggestion. It’s a command, dressed as a suggestion.

“I’m afraid I can’t do that.”

“Why is that?”

I could see movement from the corner of my eye. Not clearly enough to know what was going to happen, but a part of me didn’t even want to know. All I wanted to focus on was the man in front of me; asking a question to which I really didn’t have an answer to.

Because why, why indeed did I not want to sell out on my boss? He’d do it for me, if there was enough to gain from it. Because money is the only thing that mattered. He would sell me out like a cheap kazoo.

“It’s not about him,” I replied. Though I wasn’t sure if it was the truth or a lie.

“Then who is it about?”

There was a clang behind me. Metallic sound that bounced off of the warehouse walls, and it made me swallow. Whatever courage there was left, was imaginary; a figmentation I so desperately wanted to believe in.

I couldn’t help but think how quick it’d be.

“Me,” I replied against better judgement. Sometimes I had to be dumb like that.

“What about you?”

“What does it matter?”

“Why is this not about your boss?”

“Because it isn’t!” I protested. My head. I’m not sure if it’s lighter or heavier than it was before.

“Tell me!” He raised his voice. The first time he really raised his voice.

“Because!” I began, tossing and turning the words, the syllables in my mouth with my tongue. “I don’t… want to be like him…” I admitted.

Fuck it. This is when I start being honest with myself after joining the mafia? As I’m about to die?

Though… then again. If I’m ever going to start being honest with myself, this is about as good of a time as any.

“To him everything can be bought. Absolutely everything. Everyone, everything, has a price. The only thin I can do, to not assign a price, is to refuse to sell. Loyalty… is the only thing I have,” I spoke with a whisper, a hushed tone. There’s a good chance that only he heard. Not that it mattered.

There was a moment of silence. It was so long I had to wonder if in that moment they actually had put a bullet to my head, because I was damaged goods, and I didn’t feel a thing. “You’re loyal to the wrong person,” he finally stated, with syllables that were… I’m not sure how they were. There wasn’t… exactly pity in there, but there was an undertone of something soft… That taffeta or velvet I had heard before.

“That’s not your decision,” I retaliated.

“It’s not,” he agreed. “It’s yours,” he continued while kneeling down in front of me, just to meet my gaze as my head had lowered back down.

And his eyes… they were purple. They are purple. I don’t know about the shade still.

“But it doesn’t mean that I’m wrong,” he continued.

This time… in that tone… There was something-, something I hadn’t heard before. Despite having heard so many different versions of scorn, mock, jealousy, malice, even guilt and pity… There was none in that tone. It was like being back in those careless summer nights of youth when I could just look at the stars.

It was a tone I didn’t know.

#fuegoleon x reader #black clover fanfiction

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mandoalorian · 3 years

Text

I Believe In Love [Maxwell Lord x F!Reader] — Eleven: Love - SMUT

Summary: When you find your calling to leave Themyscira, you venture out to the World of Man with intentions of helping and healing a very specific person’s relationship with his son. You’ve heard his voice before, but only in dreams. You’ve felt his pain and anguish and you’ve never been able to relate to anything more. But things don’t come easy for you, and they certainly don’t come easy for him either. [This series contains spoilers for WW84 and is my interpretation of what happens after the movie ends].

Warnings: 18+ smut, unprotected p in v, cunningless, tit play, breeding kink, mentions of pregnancy, cursing, food and drink mention, emotional because we’re nearing the end, a family being brought together and our favourite soft, sad dad loving his son and, well… you.

Word count: 4300>

REBLOGS APPRECIATED.

Masterlist

Previous - Chapter Eleven - Next

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Just entering Black Gold Cooperative again, when you thought the previous night would be your last, drew tears to your eyes. This extensive size office was the place you’d first journeyed too upon venturing to the world of man. The building meant more to you than you had first realised, and it held so many amazing memories of self discovery. Your eyes flicked between the velvet sofa where you had once slept on, and the plants that peppered each corner of the lobby. They were vibrant and filled with life, symbolic of new beginnings. Now, the only magic in the air was love. You could feel it, Maxwell could feel it, and from the way Alistair perked up as you sneaked up behind him, he could feel it too. Love truly was the most powerful thing.

Seeing the way Alistair ran into his father’s arms, and the way he squeezed Max so tight -- like he was afraid to let him go, was enough to make your heart melt into your chest. “Daddy! You’re back!” he exclaimed excitedly. “Did you win?” He asked, his dark brown eyes glittering with hope. Alistair tugged on Max’s dark blonde shaggy hair as he waited for a reply.

“Yeah buddy, I won,” Max chuckled breathlessly. With those two words of affirmation, Alistair burst into tears. You took a step back as you watched the interaction, sensing how high the emotion was. You knew that Max had waited for this day to come for a long time. “No no, don’t cry. You should be happy.” Max cooed apologetically, his eyes widening as he tried his hardest to comfort his son. You were no longer a Goddess, and you had been stripped of your powers, but you could still feel the compassion between them both. And it was beautiful.

“I am happy,” Alistair choked out in between sobs, pulling back to look at his father. Max wiped away Alistair’s tears and offered him a weak smile. “This is all I’ve ever wanted.” Alistair confessed, nuzzling his face into his father’s chest.

Max sniffed and pressed a kiss to his son’s forehead. “I’m going to redeem myself for everything, Ali. I know… I know I’ve done terrible things and made big mistakes, and I really am a pretty messed up loser but--”

“No,” Alistair cut him off, his tone chaste. “Daddy, you’re a winner. Thank you for fighting for me.”

“Always,” Maxwell hummed, picking up Alistair and cradling him in his arms. “Let’s go home.”

***

Maxwell drove, and Alistair insisted that you sit in the back of the car with him. You obliged, unable to ever refuse the bright eyed little boy. Alistair’s small, clammy hands squeezed yours and he watched intently as you gazed out the window, entranced by all the things you passed. There was still a lot you had to get used to, but it brought you comfort knowing that now, at least you had the time. There was no pressure to return back to Themyscira. D.C. was your home. Wherever Alistair and Max was, you were home.

Alistair nuzzled his head into you and closed his eyes, feeling completely content with your company. “I like your new outfit.” he hummed, his fingers tracing your glimmering gold belt.

“You do?” you asked curiously, and felt Alistair nod against you. “You know Ali, I sorta prefer the normal clothes.” you shrugged, and caught Maxwell smiling in the reflection of the rear view mirror.

“I like this,” Alistair admitted. “You look like a superhero. Like… from my comic books.”

“You don’t need a fancy costume to be a hero, Alistair,” you said, tapping his chin so he looked up at you. “Your dad is proof of that.”

***

Maxwell dropped his keys on the side table by the front door when the three of you returned home. “Are you guys hungry?” he questioned, scratching the back of his head. After a day in court, he’d worked up quite the appetite, he must admit.

Alistair grinned and nodded his head. “Starving! Can we get pizza? Please daddy, oh please can we get pizza?”

“Hmph,” Maxwell grumbled, displaying a faux annoyance before bursting into an adorable grin. “I suppose so. Since it’s a day to celebrate.”

“Yay!” Alistair cheered, running into the living room and jumping on the sofa. By the sounds of it, he’d found the remote control for the television and turned on one of his favourite kiddie TV shows.

Walking over to the telephone, Maxwell caught a glimpse of his reflection in one of the many mirrors in the hallway and frowned. He was happy, but Gods did he still look a mess. The blonde in his hair was rapidly fading out and he was in desperate need of a trim. He’d been neglecting his biotin supplements and forgetting to moisturize, and oh, his tired eyes. You caught him hyper analyzing his appearance and approached him from behind. Pressing a kiss into his shoulder and wrapping an arm around his waist, you sighed.

“What are you thinking about?” you wondered out loud.

Maxwell swallowed. “I just… I’m not the man I once was,” he ran his fingers through his hair and gestured down to the power suit that he’d worn to court. “I’m not Max Lord anymore. Not this… big oil tycoon businessman. Not on TV anymore. This whole thing is a facade. It’s not me. And everytime I look at myself… I’m reminded of all the mistakes that I made,” he admitted quietly before taking a shaky exhale. “It’s fine,” he quickly backtracked. “Guess I’ll just have to suck it up.”

“The worst part is over, Max. And you’re a survivor,” you told him, taking his hand. “The world can forgive you, but it means nothing if you can’t forgive yourself. You need to learn to love yourself.”

“Will you help me?” Maxwell asked quietly, a nervous tone prominent in his voice.

You offered him a warm smile. “That’s why I’m here,” you reminded him sweetly. “To help.”

Maxwell turned around to face you fully and placed a hand on your cheek. You swore, in that moment and under his touch, that you had forgotten how to breathe. Max might not have been able to see it, but he truly was so beautiful. The gold in his former life may have been gilded, but the gold in his heart was pure and authentic. And now, it was all yours.

Maxwell pulled his tie off his neck and shuffled out of his suit jacket. “I think it might be time for me to hang up this tie for good.” Maxwell sighed sadly, running the patterned silk material between his fingers.

“Do you want to?”

Maxwell paused for a moment. “No, I don’t think so. I’ve worked so hard to get here… I just can’t give Black Gold up.”

“Then don’t.” you whispered, shuffling your body into his. He snaked an arm around you and sighed even louder.

“It’s not that easy, darling. I don’t have the money to keep it going.”

“I won’t let you give up on your lifelong dream, so… we’ll figure something out. Maybe you’ll have to downsize. If oil isn’t making you any money then maybe… you might have to specialise in something else. If the past week has proved anything it’s that all our problems can be figured out through the power of love. And you have that. Right here,” you maneuvered his hand and placed it on your heart before pointing your free hand into the living room at Alistair. The door stood slightly ajar. “And right there.”

Maxwell smiled. “There’s a thing, here. In the world of man…” you could tell he was about to start rambling about Goodness know what. He looked up slightly, avoiding your eye contact as he talked. “Where two people… love each other, a lot. And so they make a promise to dedicate themselves to one another. Asking you to be my girlfriend sounds a little childish,” Maxwell chuckled softly and your eyes widened when you realised where he was going with this. “But I guess… if you wanted…”

“I do!” You said quickly, cutting him off before he could even finish.

“You do?” Maxwell asked, truly stunned that you had agreed so fast. He couldn’t believe someone as magnificent as you would love him back, let alone want to be with him. He never thought he was deserving of love, especially after everything that had happened. If Maxwell had never met you, he would’ve been certain that he’d grow old, cold and alone.

“I do.” you confirmed, grinning and pressing your lips into his.

The genuine smile that was on his face when he pulled away was the most beautiful thing you had ever seen. More beautiful than the sands and oceans on Themyscira. More beautiful than the landmarks and caves in Athens. It differed to his television smile. This was one hundred percent authentic. This was Maxwell Lorenzano. “I’m going to change into my pajamas,” you announced. “And I’ll bring Ali upstairs with me and have him get ready for bed.”

“Okay,” Max acknowledged, still grinning. “I’ll set the dining room table for the pizza.”

You guided Alistair upstairs and followed him into his bedroom. You sat down on his bed, and pulled him down to sit next to you. “I told you I had a gift for you, from Athens.” you smiled and watched as Alistair’s eyes lit up with excitement.

“Yes!” Alistair cried out, bouncing up and down.

You detached the lasso of Hestia from your tunic and placed the rope gently in his hands. “This is my lasso of truth. Remember that one night when I met Julianna and Theodore, and I came to visit you? And I showed you how it worked? Do you remember?”

Alistair nodded slowly. “Yes. You told me the lasso wasn’t powered by you. It was powered by the truth.”

“That’s right,” you confirmed, your heart swelling at how Alistair had retained that piece of information. “The lasso is important to me because it was a gift from my mother. And now, I’m passing it down to you. I didn’t get this in Athens, but it is from Athens originally. I hope my lasso will be a constant reminder for you to always tell the truth, and always see the good in people.”

Alistair’s jaw was agape and he was struck with awe as his fingers traced the magical rope. “I love it…” he whispered.

“I’m glad,” you smiled. “It’s very powerful Ali. Who knows, one day you might be able to use it.”

“And I can be a superhero just like you…” Alistair grinned before biting his lip. “And just like my daddy.”

“Exactly. Just like your daddy. C’mon now, I want you to go brush your teeth and get ready for bed. Then we can go order our pizza, okay?”

Before you left his bedroom, Alistair called your name. You sensed hesitancy in his voice, almost like he was nervous. “Can I… can I try out the lasso... on you? Maybe?”

You wanted to ask him why the child might possibly want to do that, but then you realised, he was probably just curious. So, you obliged, and held out your wrist. Remembering how you’d shown him before, Alistair wrapped the rope around your arm and took a deep breath.

“Do you love my daddy?” Alistair asked, after taking a deep breath.

“Yes.”

“Will you promise not to leave him, ever?”

“I promise.”

“Would you mind if… if… I called you mommy?”

You felt warm tears prick the corners of his eyes. A mother. It’s everything you had always wanted to be. You were the goddess of home and hearth. The urge to one day have a family was in your nature.

“I’d love that, Ali.” you admitted.

Alistair pulled the rope from your wrist and enveloped you into a tight hug. “Okay. Because I love you mommy.”

“I love you too.”

***

“What do you want?” Maxwell asked his son, pen in hand. He’d been scribbling down the order, the businessman in him wanting to have everything planned out before he made the phone call.

“Pineapple pizza! The biggest one!” Alistair exclaimed gleefully, stretching out his arms. You couldn’t help but laugh.

“Ali, you won’t eat it all,” Maxwell frowned. You nudged him, as if to say, ‘let him have this’. “Okay,” Max sighed. “The biggest pineapple pizza. And what do you want?” he asked, turning to you this time. You furrowed your eyebrows together, taking another look at the menu that had been passed around the dining room table.

“How do I know what’s good?”

“Well, not pineapple.” Maxwell grumbled.

Alistair gasped, unable to believe the words that had just left his father’s lips. “Don’t listen to him,” Alistair said, grabbing your hand. “Daddy is wrong. Pineapple pizza is so delicious. Will you try some of mine?”

You squeezed the little boy’s hand. “Sure,” you agreed. Maxwell swore his heart melted everytime he witnessed interaction between you and his son. It was so pure, it was like you and Alistair had known each other forever. Granted, you’d known the little boy longer than you knew Maxwell. The day you woke up in the park felt like yesterday. “What do you like, Max?” you quizzed, eventually giving up on the menu.

“Pepperoni, I guess. I don’t eat pizza much.” He admitted sheepishly. Before you could reply, Alistair’s voice made you jump up in shock.

“Boring!” He called out. Max shot him a playful glare and you rolled your eyes.

“Don’t be rude!” Maxwell chastised, wiggling his index finger, and you couldn’t hide the smile on your face.

“He’s like you,” you pointed out. “Always has something to say.”

“My son.” Maxwell declared proudly, pulling Alistair into his lap and ruffling his dark hair.

Just like Max had anticipated, Alistair couldn’t eat the large pineapple pizza. In fact, he’d fallen asleep on the sofa after only two slices, a Star Wars blanket draped over him and a stuffed toy curled tight into his chest.

“Alistair asked me if it would be alright if he called me mommy,” you admitted quietly as Maxwell gathered the plates and empty glasses. His head snapped to face you the second the words left your lips. “I told him yes. But I figured… maybe you should have some say in it? I don’t know.”

“It means a lot to me that Ali can put his faith in you, and that he sees you as his mother. But this is a big deal. Family is for life and I don’t… he’s already lost one mother. I don’t want him to lose you too. So of course, it’s fine by me. As long as you promise to always be a mother to him, no matter what.”

“Always,” you whispered in reassurance, cupping Maxwell’s cheek and gazing into his dark eyes. “I promise.”

“I believe you,” Maxwell replied, kissing you on the forehead. “I should take him to bed.”

“Let me handle it,” you replied, stretching before leaning down to pick up the sleeping boy and cradling him in your arms. Clearly, somewhere down the line, you had forgotten you had been stripped of your powers and you were now a mortal. You let out a yelp. Once able to carry Alistair easily, you were now struggling. You wobbled slightly and Max hurried to your side to hold you and help you keep your balance.

“You okay?” Max asked, quirking an eyebrow. “He’s heavier than he looks.” you gasped, already a little breathless.

“Wanna trade?” he quizzed, raising a plate.

You mumbled a ‘yes’ and passed Alistair over to his father. “I’ll do the dishes and meet you upstairs.”

***

Max was still with Alistair by the time you had finished up the dishes and headed to the bedroom. You sat by the dressing table, brushing out your hair, and looked at the pile of discarded armour sat in the corner of the room. Maybe one day it would come of use, but for now, this was it. This was the start of a new life where you didn’t need no Amazonian armour. With Maxwell and Alistair, you had all the protection you could ever need.

“Hi,” Maxwell whispered, padding into the bedroom. You turned to face him and smiled. “I’m glad to be home… now… with you. Glad this is all over.”

He placed his hands on your shoulders and began to rub them affectionately. “Me too.” you replied warmly, leaning into his touch and nuzzling your head into his chest. You closed your eyes in contentment. Every second you spent with Max, you spent wishing it would last forever. Although you knew better than to make a wish.

“Are you tired?” Max pondered, smoothing out your hair and admiring your face.

Pushing back your hair and admiring your beauty was up there with one of his most favourite things to do. Your eyes looked like home, your lips tasted like home. You were home.

“Mm, no, not really…” you confessed, staring at the image of both you and Max in the reflection of the dressing table mirror. But Max’s gaze was fixated only on you. “Actually. I had an idea, since you know, we’re celebrating and all,” you confessed after a brief moment of comfortable silence. Maxwell raised a curious eyebrow and waited for you to continue. “Remember our first night back in Athens when we…” you trailed off and glanced over towards the bed.

“Yeah.” Max answered, already breathless from the thought.

“I liked it a lot.” You admitted bashfully as you reminisced on your first time with Maxwell.

“Me too.” he agreed.

“So do you want to do it again…?”

Max didn’t reply with words, but instead he pulled you up from the stool that you were sitting on and twirled you around so you were facing him. He crashed his lips onto yours and let his large hands freely roam your back, desperate to feel every inch of your body. He’d been waiting to do this again.

Without breaking away from the kiss, you pushed him towards his bed and climbed on top of him. You straddled his hips and began to run your hands over his chest, leaning over and kissing along his jaw and down his neck. Feeling his cock already hot and heavy, he cursed under his breath, dipping his hand under the hem of your silk nightgown and smirking upon finding that you weren’t wearing any underwear. He slowly slid his thick fingers between your folds, causing you to gasp at the sudden bolt of pleasure that ran through you. His thumb began to circle your clit and you dug your fingers into his shoulders as he worked at your bundle of nerves.

He loved to look at you and watch as your face twisted in pleasure. He liked to know you were feeling good. His fingers were like magic, and he truly had a golden touch.

“Want you to cum on my fingers, okay?” Max asked, increasing the speed. You tried to push out a word but just came out as a mangled moan. You nodded your head, feeling your cunt desperately clench around nothing and your thighs tighten as you neared orgasm.

When you came undone, Max’s dark eyes gleamed with desire and pride. He pulled his fingers from under your nightgown and placed them on his tongue, sucking your arousal from his own digits.

“You taste amazing baby,” He praised, unable to contain his smile. “I love you.”

“I love you too.” You replied back with a smile.

Both you and Max made your way over to the bed, stripping yourself out of your clothes and intertwining your bodies together.

“I don’t ever want this moment to end.” you confessed with a shaky exhale as Maxwell squeezed your breasts, peppering kisses down the valley of your chest.

“It doesn’t have to, princess, we have the rest of our lives to spend together.”

There it was again. The dumb nickname he’d called you from the day you first met. You’d insist that you weren’t a princess, and by no means royalty, but to Maxwell, you were. You were his princess. A rose stuck amongst a bush of thorns. You were the epitome of hope, beauty and love. And you were all his.

So the nickname grew on you, and you’d come to like it.

You felt the tip of Maxwell’s cock tease against your entrance as he swiftly rubbed his length up and down, between your glistening wet folds. By the time he pushed himself inside of you, just the scrunched up look on his face was enough to make your stomach erupt into butterflies. The crinkle in between his eyebrows and the way his perfect lips parted into an ‘o’ shape as your walls clamped around him.

“Fuck, you-you’re so tight,” He gasped, the Adams apple in his neck prevailing as he tried to swallow away his desire. “Always so tight. So per-perfect. Good girl. Such a go-good girl.” he praised, a small strand of dark blonde hair falling out of place and crossing his forehead.

You shuddered at his words.

“Look at me,” you begged, and he obliged, his chocolate coloured eyes snapping open. Despite the glaze of lust that seemed to cloud his vision, he was able to fixate on you, spending a few moments adoring your face -- the face he fell in love with -- as he remained seated deep inside you. He was stretching you open and Gods, it felt delicious, but you needed more. You desperately needed more. “Move, please.” you whimpered, bringing your hands up to cup his face.

Maxwell began to rock his hips into yours, his cock hitting that sweet spot inside of you with every thrust. He leaned over you and pressed his forehead against yours as he picked up his speed. “Don’t be too loud,” he warned quietly, his warm breath fanning over your ear.

It wasn’t long before he felt his cock twitch inside of you. “Shit,” he moaned, squeezing your shoulder to signify that he was close. “Neither of us are protected-- fuck, I need, I need to pull out.”

“Mm, no, no Max. Keep going. Don’t stop.” You begged, your fingers tugging on the hair at the nape of his neck.

“You could get pregnant.” he rasped out, suddenly remembering you were now a mortal.

“Would it really be so bad?” you asked, and your question alone was enough to throw Maxwell over the edge.

Would it really be so bad?

You had a point. Max had never imagined having any more kids. Hell, he’d never really planned on having Alistair. But times had changed, and he was so in love with you. He figured -- maybe kids were something he could give another go at. Little mini you’s running around the house would simply be so adorable. And who better to have children with, than the goddess of home and hearth? Having a family was written in your destiny. It was always meant to be. Given the time and the place, the prospect of having kids, getting you pregnant… it just felt right.

The start of a new life… both figuratively and literally.

Of course he was certain that this was what you wanted, and evidently, you wanted it to. But the idea of seeing you swole and round, carrying his children… well that was a whole different thing.

“Fuck princess, you’re gonna look so good carrying my baby.” Maxwell grounded, nuzzling his head into the crook of your neck.

You felt your orgasm wash over you, and your walls clamp around his cock. That was enough to push him over the edge.

Maxwell came inside of you, and he made sure to cum deep, too. Once he’d regained his breath, he grabbed two pillows from his side of the bed and propped them under your butt so the lower half of your body was higher than your upper half.

“What are you doing?” you giggled.

“Making sure not a drop of it goes to waste,” Maxwell replied as he pressed sloppy kisses along your inner thighs.

And when he caught a glimpse of his seed beginning to spill out of you, he plunged his index finger and pushed it back in.

“I love you so much.” You whispered as Maxwell smoothed out your hair and kissed your lips.

“I love you too, darling. And I can’t wait to embark on this new life together.”

You pondered for a moment, relishing in the comfortable silence before you brought your index finger and pointed it towards Maxwell. “Life is good, but it can be better.”

Maxwell was trying his damn hardest to fight the grin that was edging to cross his lips. How could one person be so adorable?

“It can always be better.” he whispered, bringing his hand down to your stomach and kissing you again.

———————————————

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