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hyunxjinnie · 5 months

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Astronomy (Han Jisung)

(Partially inspired by Tek it by Cafuné and Astronomy by Conan Gray)

(You can listen to either one of the songs while reading!))

Pairing: Han Jisung x Female reader

Genre: Angst

Warnings: Mentions of alcoholic parents, reader talks about getting high, mentions of drugs, break ups, Rock star Jisung, rock star Skz!

Characters: Y/n, Han Jisung, Seo Changbin, Kim Seungmin, Shin Ryujin, Lee Minho,+ possible mentions of other Skz members or idols

Enjoy!

Backround

You and Jisung were two peas in a pod, as your mothers liked to say.

You were similar in many ways, but also fairly different.

The two of you grew up together. Your mothers were neighbors and both alcoholics and drug addicts. Jisung and his mother would come over to your house everyday. Your moms would send you both outside or to the corner store while they took drugs and drank.

At the time, you and Jisung were just children, both about five or six years old, but you were never afraid to walk around in the dark streets of the neighborhood, as long as Jisung was with you it was fine.

So that's how it went.

Most of your days were spent with Jisung, you both went to the same school and lived across from each other, so it was perfect.

Every summer was spent playing at the run down neighborhood park, or the woods behind your house, or the corner store with the nice old lady that gave you both free popsicles.

The summer before sixth grade, you and Jisung met a girl name Shin Ryujin, she was the granddaughter of the old lady at the corner store. Ryujin was a spunky little girl, and rather strange too. She had jet black hair that reached her mid back, and she was skinny with bruises and scrapes all over her body from playing in her grandmothers yard all the time. The three of you became good friends.

For a while, it was just the three of you: You, Jisung, and Ryujin.

Often, you'd find yourself being jealous when Jisung and Ryujin did something without you, and during seventh grade, you started disliking Ryujin.

You wanted to make Jisung jealous, and therefore you started hanging out with a shy boy in your class, Kim Seungmin. Seungmin was tall and scrawny and wore glasses, and his hair hung on his head like a mop.

You introduced him to Jisung and Ryujin, and Ryujin welcomed him with open arms, but Jisung on the other hand was bitter. But eventually the two became close, considering they were the only two guys in the group.

When freshman year of high school came for the four of you, the group was actually doing very well. You had realized that Ryujin wasn't trying to steal Jisung from you, and you and Ryujin had developed a sister relationship, and the guys were doing just fine as well.

The day before the first day of high school was spent at Ryujin's house, giving yourselves makeovers.

Ryujin had cut her hair and got blonde streaks, as well as a nose piecing.

You dyed your hair red and got two piercings on both your ears.

The first day of school, Ryujin's father drove you both. You remember Jisung blowing up your phone, asking you where you were and why you weren't waiting outside his door door to walk to school together, and saying he was leaving without you.

When you arrived to school you saw Jisung standing at the entrance, leaning against one of the pillars with one hand in his pocket, and the other holding his phone close with a pout on his face.

As soon as you and Ryujin stepped out of the car you called his name and ran up to him.

"Holy shit.." He'd said as you both approached him.

"You like it?" You asked him.

"Uhh, Of course I like it! But now I look boring compared to you guys." He frowned.

Ryujin giggled, "You still have Seungmin, he hasn't changed a bit!"

And she was right, because when Seungmin pulled up in his family's SUV, he stepped out looking the exact same, mop hair, glasses, skinny bones and all.

His mother rolled down her window, shouting "I love you's" and "have a great day" as he rolled his eyes in embarrassment and walked up to you guys.

"Tell you mom you love her!" Ryujin crossed her arms.

Seungmin shook his head, "She's so embarrassing.." He frowned.

"Hey, at least she likes you." You shrugged, thinking about how your mother stopped paying attention to you as soon as you had became a pre teen a few years ago.

Unlike the rest of you, Seungmin's family was rich. His father was a Ceo and his mother was a doctor. Though, his parents were divorced, his father still sent money every month for Seungmin and his mom, and was involved in Seungmin's life.

Your father on the other hand left as soon as you were born, and Jisung's father had left when Jisung was only four years old.

Your lives were truly messed up.

But it was okay.

Because you had each other.. Right?

...

Your senior year of high school was definitely eventful.

Your mother had THREE pregnancy scares, but she didn't actually end up pregnant. She had gotten a new boyfriend, you didn't even know his name, you didn't care.

She often went to his house, leaving you home by yourself, but at some point he'd started hanging out at your place, and before you knew it he was moving right in.

Obviously you didn't like this, and most of your time was spent at Ryujin's house, and some times you'd sleep over at Jisung's or Seungmin's.

You're senior year was when you actually started being interested in guys. You were never one to fawn over guys, you didn't understand it.

Maybe it was because you never had anyone to obsessed over, you never talked to any guys other than Jisung and Seungmin, and they were your friends, you didn't like them.

Well, that's what you thought.

Jisung had started focusing on his looks more, he grew out his hair and had started caring about his outfits instead of just throwing the closest fabric to him on his body.

He was just, different.

He was still your goofy Jisung, your best friend, but he'd matured, and you weren't the only one to notice. Girls at your school started crushing on him, and sending him confession letters.

Somehow, Jisung rejected each and everyone of them, turning them down politely

You'd asked him why which led to a goofy, awkward confession, which led to the both of you getting into a relationship.

And you two couldn't have been happier.

...

To this day you and Jisung were still, "two peas in a pod".

The two of you never argued or got into fights, and you intended to keep it that way.

But unfortunately, it did not work out that way.

"You're leaving?!?!" Jisung sprung up from the swing he'd been sitting on.

You sighed and looked at the ground.

High school had ended a month ago, and you and Jisung had no idea what to do with your lives.

Ryujin was going to go to the local University to study in the medical field, and Seungmin wanted to start training to be a professional baseball player.

But you had been contemplating what you wanted to do with your life, you and Jisung had always talked about starting a band together, but as you got older you realized you needed to have a back up plan, which is why you'd secretly applied to a University, but the problem was...it was all the way in America.

You honestly didn't think you would get in, and you totally forgot about it, until an email popped up on your phone, revealing that you had gotten in. And you didn't mention it to Jisung, not until now.

"Han, I'm sorry..I really am." You said, knowing he couldn't stay mad at you when you addressed him that way.

He scoffed, pushing his hair back in frustration.

"It's for our future Sung, it's for the best! I don't want to be stuck here forever, I do not want to end up like my mother, I refuse to end up like that." You were holding back tears now.

"I really don't know what to think Y/n.." Jisung sighed.

The both of you sat in silence for a while, until Jisung looked up at you, hands shaking, eyes teary, a painful smile on his lips.

"I think we should break up."

...

That Summer was the best and the worst one of your life.

Jisung, Seungmin, Ryujin, and you hung out every single day. You'd decided to make the most of your time with your friends, since it would be the last Summer with them for a while.

Things with Jisung weren't as bad as you thought they'd be, the two of you went back to being just best friends, and pretended like nothing ever happened. You both came to the conclusion that it'd be easier and less painful to say goodbye that way.

When the Summer was over and it was finally time to say goodbye, many tears were shed.

You honestly don't think you've ever cried that hard in your entire life. Leaving behind your best friends was heartbreaking. You were worried that overtime, they'd forget all about you.

"You're going on to do better things, I'm proud of you." Seungmin had told you.

Ryujin had made you promise to call her every night, even with the time difference.

Saying goodbye to Jisung was definitely the hardest thing.

You'd both spent practically your entire lives together, you'd never been apart for more than a few hours

The two of you had been together the night before, you had a sleepover with him, Seungmin, and Ryujin, but when the other two fell asleep, you and Jisung snuck out and revisited all your favorite childhood spots.

"We should get high, just once since I'm leaving." You'd suggested that night. So you did, and then you ended up falling asleep in each others arms, crying like babies.

Before you left Jisung had held you so tightly, crying into the crook of your neck, you doing the same. Neither of you wanted to let go, and you almost missed your flight.

When you finally reached LA, you were worn out.

You had ubered to the college campus and crashed as soon as you got to your dorm, you didn't even meet your roommate until the next day.

Your roommate, Sana, was a bubbly girl from Japan, you two had a bit of a struggle communicating, but you managed.

For the first few months, you kept your word and facetimed the group every day, but over time you all became too busy, and the face times turned into regular calls, and calls turned into group texts, and soon no one was available at the same time.

Those times were hard.

...

Four years.

Four years had passed.

You finally graduated college with a a degree in film, and you couldn't be happier.

You still kept in contact with everyone, mostly Ryujin.

Ryujin dropped out of college last year, she had gotten pregnant and now had a one year old baby boy named Jiyoung.

Seungmin hadn't become a famous baseball player, but he ended up coaching for a few teams, and he seemed pretty happy, you talked to him a good bit.

Jisung on the other hand...

Jisung had followed his dreams.

He was in a band, Stray Kids, along with 6 other guys, and sometimes Seungmin tagged along as a guest vocalist in some songs when he was free.

Stray Kids were doing great.

They were super popular in Korea, and internationally too. They'd gone on a few tours throughout Asia, and there were rumors spreading about a world tour soon.

You were proud.

You hadn't texted Jisung in a few months, the both of you were always busy.

When the two of you did talk, it was mostly a simple, "Hello, how are you," and nothing more. Your friendship had crashed and burned.

You still loved Jisung, and you knew he loved you, after all, you'd been friends for years and that doesn't just go away.

After thinking long and hard, you decided to go back to Korea.. You missed all of your friends, and you wanted to check up on your mother. So you packed your bags and left to Korea a week after Summer started.

When you arrived, the first place you headed was Ryujin's house.

You knocked and patiently waited for a minute, and she flung open the door.

"Y/n WHAT THE HELL?!?!"

She pulled you into a tight hug, sniffling a bit, indicating she had started to cry.

You were starting to tear up as well, it had been way to long since you'd last seen her and your other friends.

"When did you get here? Why didn't you tell me!" She asked, pulling away.

"I wanted it to be a surprise, duh! Now move over and let me in!" You play fully moved her to the side and walked into the house with your bags.

Ryujin helped you bring them in. It was obvious you'd be staying with her, you hadn't spoke to your mother in a long time, and even if you had, you wouldn't want too stay with her.

"Where's my nephew?" You asked, referring to Jiyoung.

"He's taking a nap right now, and dad and grandma are out of town. Speaking of that, how long will you be staying? You've got a lot of bags."

You sighed. "I don't want to go back to LA.. I missed you guys too much, I think I'm gonna stay..."

Her eyes widened. "Really?!?! That's great! You can stay here with me, dad, and grandma! It'll be so nice!"

"You'd let me live here?" You raised your eyebrows.

Ryujin nodded and smiled.

The two of you hung out until Jiyoung woke up, and then you both headed out with the baby to go and surprise Seungmin.

"Min lives in a different neighborhood now, its a private one. He shares a house with his cousin, its huge." Ryujin filled you in on Seungmin's living situation as you both pulled up to some gates.

She pressed a button and scanned a card and the gate opened.

The neighborhood was beautiful, tons of huge mansions stood side by side, you observed the homes you passed by until Ryujin pulled into the driveway of what was Seungmin's home.

It wasn't as big as the others, but it definitely was big. It was a cross between modern and traditional, it had to be worth at least two million.

You and Ryujin got out of the car. You stared in amazement at the house while Ryujin took Jiyoung out of his car seat.

You guys walked to the front door and Ryujin pulled out a key from her purse. You weren't surprised she had a key to Seungmin's house. When you were all younger he'd lose his keys several times, so each one of you had a copy in case of an emergency.

"Welcome to Seungmin's humble home." Ryujin joked as she opened the door.

The inside was petty simple and minimalistic, it was nice, but still very big.

"KIM SEUNGMIN!" Ryujin shouted.

A few seconds later you heard someone coming down the stairs. "Ryujin? What's up?"

Seungmin came down the spiral staircase, adjusting his glasses. He stopped when he saw you.

"What the actual... Y/n?"

"Hi!" You giggled.

He ran down the stairs and picked you up and spun you. You let out a laugh.

You weren't at all surprised by his reaction, the two of you were very close before you left, after all, he was your friend before he met Ryujin and Jisung, given that you had introduced them.

"I can't believe you're actually here!" He shook his head in disbelief.

"Yep, I'm here to stay." You grinned, making Seungmin smile even more.

A loud voice yelled Seungmin's name, interrupting your reunion.

"Seungmin! Is Ryujin here?" You looked up and saw a short, muscular guy coming down the stairs.

"Oh whose this?" He said, looking at you.

You on the other hand, were stunned. This was Changbin, a member of Stray Kids, he knew Jisung, and he was very famous.

"Oh! This is Y/n, you know my friend. Y/n, this is Changbin." Seungmin introduced you.

"Seungmin, what is a member of Stray Kids doing in your house!?"

Seungmin let out a laugh. "Changbin's my cousin! He came here after you left and he's good friends with Jisung, he's the one who helped him start Stray Kids." He explained.

Changbin gave you a small wave. "Hi! I've heard a lot about you, its good to meet you in person!"

"You too!" You said, still in shock.

"Does Jisung know your here?" Seungmin asked.

You nervously bit your lip. "I, uh..no. I don't even know if I'm going to see him."

Seungmin cocked and eyebrow. "Why not? Last time I checked you two were on good terms. You guys literally grew up together, why wouldn't you want to see him?"

You shrugged. "We haven't talked in a while, he's always busy, It would be awkward."

"You sure? From what I know he loves you a lot, he talks about you quite a bit. When we were discussing our world tour the other day he was thinking about visiting you in LA." Changbin spoke up.

"He was?" You were surprised by Changbin's statement.

He nodded. "He still considers you his best friend, trust me."

...

After Changbin told you that Jisung still considered you his best friend, you were considering going to see him.

You hung out with Ryujin, Seungmin, and Changbin for a few hours, and after a while you and Ryujin finally left, leaving Jiyoung at the house because Changbin wanted to watch him.

"I think you should go see Jisung." Ryujin suggested.

"Yeah, you're right." You sighed, throwing your head onto the back of your seat.

The two of you drove in silence, while you tried to collect your thoughts.

Before you knew it, you were in your old neighborhood, almost to Jisung's home.

"He still lives here?" You asked.

"Him and the rest of the guys all have a house together on the other side of town, AND an apartment in Seoul, but he stays at his mom's most of the time, Mrs. Han isn't in the best condition right now, so he stays with her." Ryujin explains as you pull up to his house.

"I'm gonna take a drive around the neighborhood, you have fun. Good luck." She says as you exit the car.

You take in your surroundings as you walk up to the house. The memories hitting you like a truck. You don't turn around, not wanting to see your house just across from Jisung's, if you do you might start crying.

You take a deep breath and knock on the door.

The door opens, and instead of Jisung, another guy opens the door. His hair is a dark purple color. His cat like eyes look you up and down, confused.

You recognize him as Minho, another member of Stray Kids. You know that him and Jisung were very close.

Minho seems to have an idea of who you are, but he doesn't say that.

"Yes?"

You fidget nervously with the bottom of your sweater. "Is uhm, is Jisung here?"

Minho nods and before he can call for Jisung, a voice comes from inside.

"Minho? Whose at the-"

Jisung stands behind Minho, eyes wide, mouth open in shock.

"Y/n?"

"Hi Sung." You smile.

He walks past Minho and gives you a hug.

"When did you get here?" His voice is quiet, muffled in your neck, but you can tell he's crying.

"Earlier this morning. Surprise!" You chuckle.

Jisung pulls away from you, and turns to Minho, they don't say anything, but Minho seems to know what Jisung means because he nods, gives the both of you a wave, and shuts the door.

"C'mon, we've got a lot to talk about.." Jisung grabs your hand and you both start walking.

The two of you end up at the park you always went to as kids. You both sit on the swing set.

"I'm proud of you Han." You speak.

He tilts his head. "For what?"

"You achieved your dreams! Your a star for crying out loud!"

He lets of a small laugh, but it comes out as more of a huff. "I guess you could say that."

"Don't be so humble." You playfully poke his side.

The two of you talk and laugh, just like old times.

"I see your close with Minho." You say.

"Oh, yeah, I guess you could say that." He shrugs, face heating up.

"Since when?" You ask him.

Jisung sighs, he couldn't lie to you. "A year after you left. I met him and you know, I didn't think I was, uhm..interested in guys, you know? But Minho is..he's something else."

You smiled. You were happy for him, but deep down there was a feeling of hurt, of pain. Jisung had moved on, and you still hadn't. You still had feelings for him.

"As long as you happy I'm good. You two are cute." You reassured him.

Jisung's face flushed and he looked at the ground.

"You're still important to me Y/n. Nothing will change that, you know." He looked up at you.

"Yeah, I know."

...

That night you went out with your friends. It was just like nothing had ever changed, like you had never left.

You and Ryujin wanted the guys to come over, but Jisung had to check on his mom, and Seungmin had a game to coach for the next day, so you and Ryujin said you goodbyes to them and went home.

As soon as you got back to Ryujin's house, you bursted into tears.

"Hey, hey, what's wrong?" Ryujin led you to the couch.

"I-Ryu, he doesn't-He doesn't love me anymore." You sobbed.

She wiped your tears and pulled your head to her chest. "It'll be ok."

You loved Jisung, and everything had been fine before you left, it was all your fault, you ruined everything.

If you hadn't left, you and Jisung would still be together, he would still love you.

But now, it would never work out.

Now all you could do was watch everything play out, him and Minho's relationship, his success, everything.

Now he was doing amazing, and you were just a chapter he'd closed, even though he told you that you still meant a lot to him, and that you'd always be best friends, he didn't need you anymore.

You'd both came from the same worlds, two kids with no father and drug head mothers, but now you were two worlds apart. Jisung was happy and successful, and though you had your whole life ahead of you, you were stuck in the past, in something that would never happen again.

You'd have to watch as things happened in front of you, you'd have to come to terms with the fact that even though Jisung owned your heart, you no longer owned his.

You had to move on.

...

______________________________________________________________

This didn't turn out quite how I wanted it to, but I hope you guys like it!

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daddycassie · 2 months

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Can you write me a fanfic where barb looks after me bc I'm infected with the flu

Alot of cuddles and TOOTH CRUMBLING FLUFF

🩷

Let Me Take Care of You Sweety

Pairing: Barb Azure x Fem! Reader, 516 words

Warnings: Sickfic, tooth-crumbling fluff <3

———————————

The second you show a single symptom of being even just possibly sick, Barb Azure is at your side, feeling all over your face for heat.

“Baby, you’ve got a fever” She’d say, looking at you with a soft expression.

She’d order you to rest. If you try to get up she won’t hesitate to force you back down on the bed — she’s actually pretty strong despite how she looks.

Lil bit of tough love.

“You ain’t gettin’ up from this bed sick, long as I live.” You think she’s sweet, but also VERY dramatic.

The rest of the covey is worried about you because Barb acts like the world is going to end as she scrapes together what she can to make you some soup.

Lucy Gray comes into your room a couple times a day for as long as your sick and either sings you a song or talks to you a bit, but if she notices you look tired she’ll leave you alone to sleep.

Maude Ivory brings you things. Toys, treats, trinkets, she thinks it’ll heal your ailment. She’d also try to cuddle you but Barb Azure put a stop to that real fast

“You’re not gettin’ sick too. Scoot!”

Tam Amber mysteriously, somehow, gets and brings you medicine. You’d stare at him in shock while he walks out.

Cc brings you flowers to your bedside. It’s sweet and all, but it definitely makes you feel like he’s treating the flu like you’re about to die.

Barb Azure spoon feeds you soup, it’s very starchy with some carrot in it. You’d offer her a smile.

“You got salt for me?”

She’d blush and shrug sheepishly.

“I thought it was only fair that your food has a bit of flavor. Ya don’t feel good sweety.”

You thank her, and eat the soup — the warmth is soothing.

When you find yourself aching Barb rubs your back, giving you a gentle, soothing massage. She’s clearly concerned, mumbling.

“My poor baby.” “I’m sorry honey.” “That’s it, you’re okay.”

You fall asleep peacefully… to a very odd dream.

Something about a mouse, the games, and somebody named Ida? You had no idea who that was.

You wake up in a cold sweat, forgetting where you are.

You shiver, swearing. Barb Azure and her sixth sense — she rushes in and holds you, assuring you it was a dream.

You cling to her while she tries to help you feel warm. It was an odd feeling for you — shivering in spring.

If you get a headache, you’ll notice the whole house becomes very, VERY quiet, it’s actually really unnerving.

Barb Azure claims she most certainly had nothing to do with it be she absolutely did and you both know it.

Overall — Barb Azure can be a bit overbearing, but she’s a very loving partner and she’ll always do her best to take care of you no matter what.

———————————

Note: This is my first time writing a fic for Barb, I like how it turned out even if it’s not the longest thing I’ve ever written — I adore Barb Azure and I want her to take care of me like this too tbh 💛

Anyway I hope you guys enjoyed 😚 I’m going to open requests again after this one!

#tbosas #wlw #gay girls #sapphic #lucy gray baird #Clerk Carmine #Tam Amber #Barb Azure #barb azure baird #Barb Azure Baird x Reader #Barb Azure Baird x Fem! Reader #lesbian #sickfic #Maude Ivory Baird #Request

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joekeerysguitar · 1 year

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drunk with kisses

authors note: hi guys! sorry this took so long, i have been super busy with life lately! enjoy this longer ff which gets spicy towards the end! please let me know if you want any special requests or have any suggestions for the future! - nina :)

overview: you’re invited to steve’s pool party full of laughing, food, and of course alcohol. a few drinks later everyone is pretty wasted and you guys decide to play a few games… ones that can change your life forever.

use of y/n, fem reader, steve harrington x reader, fluff, a bit of angst, mutual feelings, gets a bit spicy, mentions of implied sex, makeout, fem reader first time, steve is a sweetheart, nervousness

TW: alcohol

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* 　　 *:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧

Accepting an invite to Steve Harringtons party probably wasn’t the best idea. Considering the fact that he is known for his legendary parties, endless amounts of alcohol, and mostly absent parents it wasn’t the best move for your “little miss perfect” self. But, yet again they always say, “Take risks.” So yeah, you took a risk. A huge risk.

It was a small party, just the normal hangout group consisting of Steve, Robin, Nancy, Jonathan, Eddie, and yourself. You knew the drill, just have fun with your friends… but this was the first time ever going over Steve’s house. Usually, Nancy hosted the get togethers and they weren’t very risky since she had strict rules. You didn’t really know what to expect.

Pulling into the large driveway, you took your first glimpse at the giant gray house. Plastered with windows and beautiful decorations, looked like a celebrity lived there. Jesus Christ he sure is rich.

Parking the car and grabbing your belongings along with your snacks you brought you slowly walk to the front door. A sense of nervousness creeps up inside filling your core as you approach the front door. Reaching the doorbell you inhale and scrunch your face nervously as you press the cool button. In response, you can hear the alarming chime of the doorbell and scurrying footsteps.

“Coming!” an unknown murmured voice calls out from behind the door as the footsteps continue getting louder and closer.

You exhale and shake your hands trying to shake off any excess nervousness and jitters. Listening to the rattling of the door and someone struggling to unlock it, you just patiently wait in awkwardness. The door opens to…

the one and the only

Steve Harrington

He stands there smiling in a dark teal-ish green crew neck and jeans. His hair is a bit disheveled but he reaches his hand up and fixes it as he exhales. You watch as his runs his hands through his hair. You cannot stop to smile as suddenly all your worries disappear.

You didn’t know Steve for long.. you only made inferences based off the rumors. You didn’t even know if the rumors were true. He seemed to defy all of them at these few get togethers. You moved to Hawkins’s few months ago, first meeting Robin. Then ever since you’ve been the sixth edition to the friend group. You’ve barely gotten to know anyone so it was very hard to judge.

But there was something with Steve..

Something that made you instantly happy at the sight, made you smile every single time, something that made you feel nervous, maybe giddy.. the feeling was indescribable…

Maybe it was his thick beautiful hair? or his sparking eyes? or his gentle demeanor?

He just looks the the average teenage heartthrob out of movies that everyone swoons over. And you were swooning alright.

Oh fuck it..

You had a crush..

On the one person everyone at school says to “stay away from!”

But you don’t listen. And you don’t even regret it!

Whenever you see him he’s just been the kindest of kind to you.

Fuck stereotypes and rumors.

“Pfft, there’s nothing to worry about. We’re friends and it’s just a normal hangout.” You thought to yourself as he moves out of the way and gestures you inside.

“How are you?” He asks closing the door behind you and you hand him your snacks. He gives you his usual welcoming and kind glare. The type of glare that makes you wanna melt into a puddle.

“I’m good, how are you?” You reply as he leads you to the kitchen. Looking around the house you observe how tidy and clean it is. You were surprised considering the fact that Steve practically lives here alone and teenage boys are dirty. The house was huge, fully furnished with expensive decorations. The kitchen was extremely nice. Dark brown cabinets adorned with a white countertop and tiled backdrop. On the counter, Steve had a whole smorgasbord of food.

“Are we feeding an army?” You laugh looking at all the food. You look over to Steve who is smiling and shaking his head.

“Robins fault, always trying to overfeed us.” He says placing your snacks down. “Drinks are in the fridge, the rest of them are outside.” You follow behind him as he guides you outside to the backyard. It was quite a expansive backyard. A concrete patio leading to an in-ground pool with a diving board. The pool was lined with reclining chairs and tables clearly occupied by the group.

“Guess who’s here!” Steve calls out happily as everyone looks back.

“Y/N!!” They all say collectively smiling.

“Hey guys!” You wave and smile to them all as you reach them. Robin was crisscross-applesauce on the ground in front of Nancy and Jonathan who were laying in a reclined chair while Eddie was sitting by them reclining his feet on the nearby table.

You sit next to Robin who drapes her arm around your shoulders pulling you in for a side hug.

“Hey Y/N, how are you?” She asks letting go and looking at you.

“Pretty good, you?” You reply smiling. Steve pulls over a chair and sits with the group.

“Never better.” She says taking a sip of her drink.

“Do you want one?” Eddie says gesturing to the can of beer in his hand.

“Uhhh… sure.” You reply nervously as he throws you a can from the cooler.

Alcohol, the one thing you’ve wanted to stay away from.

You open the can and place the cool metal on your lips taking a slight sip of the beer. It was definitely not great, hints of barley and spices. But you’re a teenager and tonight was a night of fun. So you dealt with it.

As the alcohol warmed you up from the moderately brisk evening you engaged in some fun conversations with the group. Everyone was getting slightly tipsy enjoying their beers…well beside you. You stopped drinking after half the can was empty. You hated the taste, couldn’t bear it.

Every once in a while you’d notice Steve look over at you. You weren’t sure if he was just looking at you or checking up on you but he had this concerned glare. Every-time you met his eyes he would look away, afraid he’d get caught. You didn’t think much about it as you were suddenly pulled back into the conversation.

A few minutes later you excused yourself to the bathroom.

“Hey Steve, where’s the bathroom?” You ask as he looks over to you.

“Down the hallway to your left.” He replies as you give him a thankful smile. Getting up with your beer which you planned on pouring out you navigated your way to the bathroom. You didn’t really have to pee, you just wanted a break. It was hard being a teenager. You didn’t enjoy alcohol or huge parties like everyone else did. You thought if you slipped away for a bit no one would notice. Well, someone did notice.

Pouring the beer down the drain and chasing it with water you just looked at yourself in the mirror. Taking a deep breathe to reassure yourself you smiled at your reflection which smiled back. As you unlocked the bathroom door and walked out, Steve was leaning against the wall waiting.

“Jesus Christ, what the hell are you doing?” You exclaim with your soul jumping halfway out of your body.

“Oh I’m sorry.” Steve apologizes running his hands through his hair. “I just wanted to check up on you. You were gone for a while, you looked a little nervous when you left.”

Steve is the expert at reading expressions. He knows how to read people like a book, especially the people he admires.

“I’m fine.” You lied brushing past him and walking down the hallway to the kitchen. He turned around chasing after you. He was nervous now. Did he do something wrong? Once he caught up to you he placed a hand on your left shoulder spinning you around.

“Wait Y/N, I know you’re not okay.” He says once he got your attention. He has this nervous and concerned look now. Yet whenever he looked at you his eyes remained gentle.

You sigh, “I’m not a huge party or alcohol person. I know this isn’t a huge party or anything but sometimes I need a break. I always wanted to fit in here in Hawkins and I thought maybe partying and drinking would help that. My mom always wonders why I don’t “act like a normal” teenager but you know maybe Im not normal. It’s complicated.” Steve just listens to your entire rant and feels empathy towards you. He completely understands what you mean. Without saying a word he envelopes you in a hug. Wrapping his arms around your torso he rests his head on your shoulder. You hug him back craning your neck to rest on his shoulder. This embrace was full of understanding and mutual feelings. You instantly felt better.

He mumbles into your ear, “A lot has changed for me too. I’m not who I used to be. I don’t drink very much alcohol anymore, I don’t go to parties, I don’t act stupid. It’s completely okay to feel this way and I want you to feel comfortable. Is there anything I can do?” You let go of the tight embrace as you wipe hair away from your face. You shake your head now as you smile thankfully.

“Thank you, Steve. This means so much.” You say looking directly into his still gaze and sparking eyes.

“I’m here whenever.” He says smiling and leading you back outside to the rest of the group.

•••

As the night progressed, Eddie had this “miraculous” idea of swimming in the pool. Everyone was down, well beside you but you went with it. No one was even remotely prepared, no swimsuits, no change of clothes.

Everyone abandoned their seat as the six of you lined up on the edge of the pool.

“You’re going first.” Nancy said to Eddie. “It was your idea.” He agreed before jumping into the pool causing a splash that got on everyone. You staggered back as the cool water touched your skin.

“That’s cold.” You say to Steve who is standing next to you. He looks at you and nods smiling.

Robin follows Eddie and then Nancy and then Jonathan. That leaves just Steve and you standing on the waters edge.

“Last to get in is a rotten egg.” Robin yells splashing water from the pool onto the both of you. You two step backwards getting out of Robins reach.

You look up to Steve who’s eyes are sparking from the waters reflection. His eyes caught you and sucked you in. They were just so beautiful, he was just so beautiful.

“You go first.” You say pushing against his upper arm. He laughs and shakes his head no.

“No ladies first.” He says gesturing to the pool as Nancy, Jonathan, Eddie, and Robin stare at you two, exchanging questionable glares.

“Oh stop being polite.” You retort back with a joking tone still looking at him in the eyes. His eyes must of found yours too as you feel a blush under his gaze.

“Okay then how about we go together.” He says suddenly wrapping his arms around your waist from behind and lifting you off the ground as he runs and jumps straight into the pool. You were pressed back into his chest and you can feel it rise and fall sharply with every laugh he gave out before jumping in. This action made you feel every single feeling at once. It was such a spur of the moment thing that you couldn’t even process what happened.

No one has ever done that before. Let alone the person you had a crush on. It was something that you’d see in movies or read in books.

As you made contact with the water he let go and you felt a sense of sadness as you were no longer in his grasp. The water was cold as your clothes suddenly clung to your body like a wetsuit. As you came up from underwater both of you were laughing. Steve was laughing the hardest as everyone else around you giggled. You just laughed and blushed.

You just experienced something romantic. Or at least you think romantic. Your exposure to that world was very slim. Nonetheless, you felt giddy and bashful.

The six of you fooled around in the pool playing endless games and competitions. Your favorite being Chicken. You were hoisted on Steve’s shoulders as you battled with Nancy who was on Jonathan’s shoulders. You constantly kept falling backwards or tipping over sending the both if you underwater. You never laughed harder in your life. You forgot every worry and was just having fun.

By the way everyone was acting you can definitely tell that everyone was borderline drunk well besides Steve and yourself. You found yourself to be the mom of the group constantly telling Eddie to not backflip into the shallow end or telling Robin to stop yelling and to keep her voice down.

After about 45 minutes you all got out of the pool with blue lips and teeth chattering. Steve ran inside and got everyone a towel. After everyone was dried off you all huddled in his living room near the fire place trying to stay warm.

“That was so much fun!” Robin says laughing over nothing.

“I agree.” You reply smiling. The rest of the group agrees as well.

“Wait..” Robin says pondering for a minute. Everyone looks at her and waits for a follow-up response. “We should play truth or dare.” She says excitedly. Everyone besides you and Steve cheer and agree. You just give each-other questionable and nervous looks.

Truth or Dare + drunk Robin does not mix.

Soon you find yourselves all in a circle in the living room. Jonathan just finished his turn. He was dared to shove a whole cupcake in his mouth. He just sat there laughing with cupcake frosting lining his mouth as he struggled to chew and swallow. It was your turn next, Robin was asking you truth or dare.

“Y/N, truth or dare?” She asks as everyone listens attentively.

Being rebellious you reply, “Dare.” She thinks for a moment before a lightbulb goes off in her head.

“I dare you to do 7 Minutes of Heaven with Steve.” She blurts out giggling as the rest of the group collectively “Ooh”’s.

You cannot believe your freaking ears. Your face instantly turns red as a knot forms in your stomach. You look over to Steve who has a shocked look on his reddened face.

“Robin, I don’t think that’s-“ You reply back nervously.

“A dare is a dare. Do it.” She interrupts you speaking a bit more demanding now. You have no other choice, arguing with Robin is already tough enough to win but with her drunk is a whole other game.

She stands up and drags the both of you up and away to his small walk in pantry. She pushes you both inside and slams the door. Yelling from the outside she goes “Im starting a timer, and standing near the door so you can’t escape. Have fun!” You hear the cranking of a kitchen timer as she places it on the counter and returns to talking with the rest of them. You just look at Steve nervously who still looks shocked. You guys are squished up against each other due to the tight space of the pantry.

“Hi!” You say in an awkward breathless tone. You smile.

“Hi!” He replies smiling back a bit.

“Well this is weird.” You say looking at the shelf away from his eyes. He nods his head.

“Robin is something else.” He says awkwardly giggling a bit.

A few awkward seconds go by.

“How are you?” He asks looking at you gently referring to earlier.

“I’m better now.” You say with a slight smile.

“I’m glad.” He replies exhaling.

You two just look eachother in the eyes for many long moments. You admire his soft complexion. His brown eyes, his freckles, his relaxed eyebrows, his pink lips. He is just so beautiful, so freaking pretty.

You feel embarrassed by this situation and Steve can definitely read it. He looks at you puzzled as he gently grabs your attention by pulling a stray piece of hair behind your ear. Looking up at him with your sparking eyes set a small blush to his cheeks.

“Hey Y/N, are you okay?” He asks gently still lingering his hand by your face.

You shake your head no as you look away. His heart sinks a bit at the reaction. To bring back your attention he gently cups your face slowly guiding it back to face him.

“Tell me what’s wrong.” He coos gently rubbing your cheek with his thumb.

“I’ve.. never been in this situation before, let alone kiss anyone.” You shakily reply before darting your eyes away.

How could a beautiful girl like her never been kissed? It was unbelievable, truly unbelievable. She was just so pretty and sincere. He couldn’t believe his ears.

“Hey, look at me.” He says gently bringing your attention back. This time uncontrollably he blurts out, “Do you want me to show you?”

Your stomach explodes in butterflies as you look at him dumbfounded. Unable to utter a word you shake your head yes. Steve takes this opportunity to go slow and steady, he doesn’t want to make you any more nervous. Still cupping your face he slowly moves towards your face stopping once your foreheads are touching.

“You okay?” He whispers as he watches your eyes dart from his eyes to his lips. You slightly nod and shut your eyes. Steve closes the gap between you pressing his lips against yours in a gentle loving kiss. Your breath hitches at the impact. Quickly, he pulls away to try to read a reaction. Your eyes open wide as a blush forms at your cheeks. Your head is whirring with a million thoughts but yet it felt like nothing at all. Your entire world just got flipped upside down over one small kiss. It felt like heaven, pure bliss. Your lips fit perfectly together like a puzzle waiting to be put together.

You slightly smile as you wrap your arms around his neck bringing you two both effortlessly closer. Your heads lean closer together as you watch his lips. Building the courage, you close the gap once again. His hand found your lower back gently pulling your closer against his chest. Your hands gently played with his hair warning small grunts and groans from him. Neither one of you refused to come up for air as the kiss grew more hot and heavy. Steve bit down on your lower lip earning a gasp from you. He took this opportunity to slip his tongue inside your mouth. The kiss was deeper and more passionate now, you two were both breathing heavy never wanting to let go. You ran your hands up and down his back as he held the back of your neck to deepen the kiss by tilting your head gently. Steve let you both take a break by moving to your neck. Your lips were puffy and red but oh were you in heaven. You couldn’t even form a coherent thought let alone a sentence. As Steve asked permission to move all you gave him was a slight nod. He peppered your neck and collarbone with endless kisses and frequent sweet little nothing statements.

All Steve wanted was for you to feel special, to feel loved. He wanted your first ever kiss to be received by him. He just loved you so much and wanted the best for you. Making you feel good made him feel good and that is all that matters. He wanted the absolute best for his sweet girl.

Quickly, the small showering pecks turned into suckles and biting as he left many hickeys that would be there for days to come. Each one received either a whimper or small moan out of your mouth which kept him going. He absolutely loved the sounds you were making. He absolutely loved you.

As he moved back to your swollen lips you both heard the sound you never wanted to ever hear…

…the timer

The seven minutes was up, yet it felt like 7 years. Those were 7 minutes of pure bliss, 7 minutes of hidden emotions poured out, 7 minutes of heaven.

Both of you left that pantry with foggy minds and endless needs of wanting your lips on each others again.

And those needs were met later, just the two of you without a timer.

I guess a little bit of alcohol isn’t so bad after all.

#steve harrington stranger things #steve harrington x y/n #steve harrington angst #steve harrington fluff #steve harrington x reader #steve harrington #joe keery stranger things #joe keery #fanfic #stranger things #friends to lovers #spicy stuff

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troutfur · 1 year

Note

I bring Asterkit, a long-legged, sleek-furred, light gray-and-white tabby tom with yellow-green eyes. He has an angular face and large bat-like ears.

Featherstorm ponders the kit as he turns away from his chart. "The sands foretell a good life for him, but it seems..." He turns to his chart, and quickly examines it, to see if maybe there is a last moment change to be made. When he finds none he turns back to the parents. "...he won't be pleased by all of it."

---

Featherstorm's chart would look a little bit like this!

[Image ID: Under the header “What will Asterkit’s life be like? (02/19/2023)” 16 rows of tally marks crossed out two by two until there is only 1 or 2 left uncrossed. To the left, a shield chart at the top with the following geomantic figures: Laetitia as the first mother, Tristitia as the second mother, Cauda Draconis as the third mother, Acquisitio as the fourth mother, Amissio as the first daughter, Fortuna Maior as the second daughter, Albus as the third daughter, Acquisitio as the fourth daughter, Carcer as the first niece, Puella as the second niece, Carcer as the third niece, Caput Draconis as the fourth niece, Albus as the right witness, Cauda Draconis as the left witness, Fortuna Minor as the judge, and Rubeus as the sentence. Below the shield chart, an astrological house chart with the first twelve geomantic figures above mentioned assigned to houses 1 to 12 in the order mentioned above. /end ID]

This is another chart where I'm kind of baffled immediately by the positive figure generating a sentence of Rubeus, but I can work with this. On the outset doesn't seem as weird as Cactustail's so I'm sure I can make something out of this.

Interpretations under the cut:

Our judge here is Fortuna Minor, dependent or short lived success. So overall, a happy life, even if reliant on others. As the sentence though we have Rubeus, anger and uncontrolled aggression. That's... quite the unexpected reaction to success, but ok. Our right witness, Albus, tells us that the situation the judge predicts will come about from using wisdom to comfront an ending, as represented by the left witness, Cauda Draconis. This is overall a bizarre narrative for the court figures, so let's see if the house chart clarifies this.

Occupying the first house we have Laetitia, joy, further suggesting an overall good life that makes one wonder why the sentence came out as Rubeus.

In the second house we have Tristitia, sorrow. In the house of material posessions, what this suggests to me is perhaps living through a harsh season. I feel like that's been an idea I've brought before for some other interpretations, a period in recent SandClan history marked by famine.

In the third house we find Cauda Draconis, endings and foregone conclusions. Second time in a row. Seems the chart is fixated on the idea of a character abandoned by their closest platonic bonds. This time though, doesn't seem like death factors into it as we can see...

Acquisitio, gain, in the fourth house. This suggests to me a close bond with a mentor that is very gainful for both of them. A mentor-apprentice pair that just clicks and brings out each other's best qualities.

Amissio, loss, in the fifth house. Ah well, there go his kittens and/or apprentice. I want to tie this to the idea of the harsh season and perhaps his anger. Could it be, perhaps, that although he was instrumental in keeping the Clan's head cool through the end of the famine, his success was ephemeral and ultimately got him angry that he couldn't act faster to save his kit?

In the sixth house Fortuna Maior, lasting and independent successs. Excellent health and physical condition, leading to a long life. I can see him chilling with the elders for a long time.

In the seventh house Albus. This is interesting in the house of relationships, as it implies that what he brings to the table into the dating world is this old soul calm. Very interesting cat to bring into a relationship dynamic, for sure! Other than that, no conflict or much in the way story here.

In the eight house, Acquisitio, which considering this passes from the fourth house into here I'm thinking refers to taking the eventual death of a mentor or parent in stride. Their time had come and he had accepted that. Even in their last moments he had been close to them. Overall a sweet ending.

In the ninth house, Carcer, bindings. Now here comes the drama. So his journey is a binding of some sort. I'm thinking if we relate this to the idea of the famine we can say perhaps his "journey" could be about calming everyone down out of a sense of obligation to the Clan, while hiding under the surface just how much he would rather leave and take his family with him.

The tenth house has Puella, service to others. This reinforces my thoughts on the previous house, this idea that as he wrangles the clan and keeps their heads cool he ultimately gains authority by virtue of how he tends to the Clan.

In the eleventh house we have Carcer again. Bindings in the house of allies and supporters suggests to me this position of duty is being forced on him by all sides, even family and friends. If this ends with him keeping the Clan together at the cost of not having been able to bail himself or do something to help no wonder his reaction was anger.

And finally in the twelfth house we have Caput Draconis, new beginnings and endless potential. Interesting note to end on. Seems like his story is not fully written, that he has potential for making enemies if he lets his bitterness show.

So, putting it all together!

Growing up, Asterkit had a fairly happy and normal kithood. Growing up with a mentor that he really clicked with and ultimately turning to a very mature and well put-together cat that he turned to an asset in the dating arena. He was able to part with his aging mentor in a good manner and his life seemed rosy. That is until a famine hit the Clan and tensions rose. In the middle of pulling them through it, he was the voice of reason arguing against doing anything rash. Though he desperately wanted to bail, his clan loyalty kept him anchored. The Clan was slow to act thanks to his influence, as he rose into a figure of authority, and that ultimately cost him his children. Though the Clan was able to pull through and thanks to him prevail, he turned very angry with himself at his unwillingness to act. His bitterness and anger carries over and threatens to make him enemies if he ever shows it too blatantly...

Asterfrost is a nice name, methinks.

#warrior cats #wc #warrior cats oc #wc oc #fanclan #sandclan

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thatsassyhufflepuff · 3 years

Note

Y/n is having a bad day so she’s avoiding Draco because she doesnt want him to see her cry

Don’t Look At Me

Summary: Y/N and Draco have only been dating for a few months. No way is she letting him see her cry. Unfortunately for her, Draco is very observant.

Pairing: Draco Malfoy x Y/N

Year: 7th

House: Any

Word count: 751

Warnings: fluff!

A/N: Hope you like this! ❤️

Avoiding Draco Malfoy was no easy task.

True, they’d only been dating for about four months, but they had been friends for years before they finally realized their feelings for each other went beyond friendship.

There was also the fact that, being Draco’s girlfriend, pretty much everyone knew who Y/N L/N was. As was normally the case when one was, willingly or not, in the spotlight, word traveled fast. Y/N had half a mind to hex the sixth year Ravenclaw who saw her crying in the bathroom and blabbed about it to her friends. Soon, nearly everyone in the school seemed to know that she had been crying, including Draco.

It was no big deal, really. Y/N was just beginning to feel the pressure that came with studying for her N.E.W.Ts. She really wanted to do well.

She’d been avoiding him ever since lunch, but she was running out of places to hide. Y/N groaned when she heard a knock at her bedroom door.

“Could you answer that?” She asked her roommate, who’d looked up from her Potions homework.

“Sure, Y/N.” Her roommate chuckled when Y/N dove under the covers and hid. “Hullo, Malfoy.”

Great.

“Is Y/N in here?” She heard Draco ask in lieu of a hello.

“No, she’s not,” Y/N called from under her blankets. “Go away!”

“For Merlin’s sake, witch!” She heard Draco moving further into the room, felt him sit on the edge of her bed.

“Why are you hiding from me?” The Slytherin pulled back the covers to look at her face. Y/N glared and immediately threw her arms over her face to hide it.

“I said go away, Draco.”

“Not until you tell me what’s going on.”

“Nothing’s going on. There, now you can leave.”

“Don’t insult my intelligence,” Draco snorted. “Now uncover your face and talk to me, love.”

Slowly, Y/N lifted her arms off of her face and was met with her boyfriend’s crooked grin.

“There you are,” he murmured, scooting closer and running a knuckle softly down her cheek. “Talk to me, darling.”

She bit her lip. “Fine, but don’t look at me.”

Draco arched an eyebrow at that but said nothing as Y/N stood to make room for him on her bed. As soon as he was settled, Y/N crawled between his legs and laid her head on his chest.

“I’ve just had the worst day ever,” she mumbled into his shirt. “Snape was absolutely brutal to me in Potions, I haven’t slept in days because I’ve been studying for my N.E.W.Ts...I just...I’m so tired, Draco.”

Y/N buried her face into his chest when she started crying. Draco rubbed his hands soothingly up and down her back, kissing her hair.

“Look at me.” He commanded, lifting her chin. Y/N turned her tearstained face away. “Love,” he laughed when she turned her head every time he tried to look into her eyes.

“Don’t look at me,” she sniffled. “I’m an ugly crier.”

Draco wrapped a hand around the back of her head, the other holding her chin still. He pressed his forehead to hers.

“Don’t be ridiculous,” he said. “You’re still bloody gorgeous, sweetheart.” He pressed a sweet kiss to her lips before fishing a handkerchief out of his pocket and handing it to her.

Y/N glared at him but took the offered handkerchief, wiping at her eyes. “My eyes are puffy and my lips are, too. I’m hardly gorgeous.”

Draco kissed her eyelids. “Gorgeous.” He whispered, his gray eyes traveling down to her lips, expression darkening with a hint of desire. “And if I showed you how gorgeous those lips of yours are, you won’t be getting any studying done.”

Her heart fluttered at his husky voice, feeling her cheeks flush pink.

“You’re such a sap,” Y/N teased as she lifted her head to look at him.

“Only for you,” Draco winked, gently guiding her head back down to rest against his chest. “Take a nap, darling. When you wake up we can work on our assignments together, yeah?”

Y/N yawned, snuggling further into his chest. “I guess that’ll work.”

The Slytherin held back a laugh; she was asleep within minutes. He tightened his arms around her, breathing in the scent of her hair.

“I love you,” he whispered; it was the first time he’d said so out loud. Y/N smiled in her sleep.

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makeste · 3 years

Text

BnHA Chapter 305: Worst Intervention Ever

Previously on BnHA: Shinomori, whose name took me an entire week to memorize, was all, “nice to meet you Deku, I’m ten feet tall, do you want to know how I died?” and without waiting for an answer explained that he kicked it from old age at forty thanks to good ol’ OFA. Deku was all “wait a minute, then how come All Might, who’s fifty-five and is definitely dyeing his gray hair, is still alive?” First and Shino were all, “we really have no fucking clue but we think it’s cuz he’s quirkless, JUST LIKE YOU!” So basically, since quirkless people don’t exactly grow on trees these days, Deku is probably going to be the last user of OFA. The chapter ended with Nana being all, “psst, Deku, about my grandson. Uh, can you kill him?” which is sure to lead to a very interesting conversation this week.

Today on BnHA: Nana And The Gang are all “so, Deku, how can we put this delicately. The thing is, we’re pretty sure that AFO really fucked my grandson up, so on the off chance you can’t save him, how would you feel about, you know... [throat slitting gesture].” Deku is all “idk you guys, I kinda feel like he’s really just a traumatized child at heart and he’s in a lot of pain and stuff and so I should try to help him.” The Vestiges are all “BUT WHAT IF YOU CAN’T” and Deku is all “BUT I WANT TO TRY, DAMMIT” and the Vestiges are all “well when you put it that way, we, uh, were just testing you, so congrats, you passed!” The chapter ends with First being all, “ANYWAY SO WHY DON’T YOU TWO SHY BOYS STANDING OVER THERE IN THE SHADOWS COME SAY HELLO” before we CUT AWAY FOR ANOTHER WEEK, goddammit.

seriously, Nana

just... have you met Deku?? look, if you really want Tomura dead, just sic him on the U.A. first years and tell Shouto and Honenuki that it’s a training exercise

oh my god lmao

we’re too far away to see Nana’s face here so I will just assume that she turned and is staring DIRECTLY INTO THE CAMERA for this one line lmao. “I just wanted to clarify in case anyone felt inclined to take my dialogue out of context and spend an entire week complaining about it”

oh my god?! are you all purposely trying to make me sad??

someone stop me before I launch into an impromptu rant about all my Tomura feels. WHY IS NOBODY STOPPING ME. oh my god but yes, exactly. he’s just in pain all the time. this is exactly why I think Tomura has such high redemption potential even though so far he seems to lack so many of the redemption arc essentials such as feeling remorse, wanting to change, and taking responsibility for his actions. the reason why I’m willing to overlook all that in his case is because Tomura has essentially had zero agency his entire life. AFO molded him into a killer by making sure he was in constant mental agony, and making it so that the only thing that even slightly relieved that agony was killing peeps. like, please don’t think I’m making excuses for him or anything, but if you take a child and manipulate their existence to make it virtually impossible for that child to grow up as anything other than a killer, and basically never give him the chance to be anything else, then no shit he’s gonna be a killer?? he’s basically never had the choice not to be. it’s never been an option for him. anyways I feel like I am EXPLAINING MYSELF SO BADLY but nonetheless I am prepared to die on this hill

anyway so now Nana is all “that’s a rhetorical question btw because Our Hearts And Minds Are One so we can feel everything you feel bro.” so yeah, that’s interesting

now Banjou is getting started on the “let’s try and talk Deku out of wanting to save Tomura because it’s insane” part of their OFA Mystical Space Void Reunion agenda

look, Banjou, I feel you, I really do. you guys don’t think it’s realistic that Deku can defeat Tomura without killing him. so if it’s a choice between killing Tomura vs letting Deku and everyone else in the entire world die, then duh, you think Deku should kill him. I get it! and if this were a real life mass murderer I’d totally agree with you. but the problem is that this isn’t real life, this is a sympathetic shounen villain with a tragic past who might as well have FUTURE REDEMPTION ARC RECEIPIENT stamped on his forehead at this point

so First is all “look, there’s absolutely no doubt my brother has fucked this kid up good and proper by now”, which, again, fair

though, that’s kind of exactly my point though. everything that Tomura is, everything he’s done, he’s done because of AFO. AFO has so effectively shaped his personality and his worldview by this point that it’s all but impossible to penetrate that. he’s AFO’s puppet. but the problem is that rather than treating him like a victim, you all are treating him like a casualty. like he’s already a lost cause. but good luck trying to convince Deku of that

WHOA WHAT, RANDOM SUPER-IMPORTANT AND BIZARRELY UNRELATED EXPOSITION DROPPED IN JUST LIKE THAT??

way to still not reveal Sixth’s name, btw. THE PEOPLE WANT TO KNOW, DAMMIT. but also so this confirms something we basically already knew already, which is that not even AFO can steal OFA. it literally can’t be taken away by anyone unless the owner wills it. SO SUCK ON THAT AFO YOU EGG

(ETA: so I have no idea why this was omitted from this translation, but apparently the Sixth’s name was revealed as “En”, which is obviously not his full name but at least it’s something. also he most likely has a fire or smoke-related quirk based on the kanji used, 煙.)

so Banjou is saying that Deku’s “lack of an iron will” could be a disadvantage against AFO. hahaha what?? Midoriya “I’ll break all of my bones without blinking an eye just to protect someone” Izuku lacks an iron will? do tell

he says this is going to be a test of Deku’s determination. well yeah, no shit. but just not in the way you guys think

OH HELLO AGAIN

darker hair again here! but I don’t trust the contrast in these scans at all after last week. his coveralls are way darker than they looked before too, and you can clearly see he’s standing in the shadows now

(ETA: yep, once again the raw shows that his hair is considerably lighter than what’s shown in these scans here. although there’s no mistaking now that his hair is consistently being colored in this slightly darker shade, and it’s not just the lighting.)

anyways lol First was saying something about how AFO can’t steal OFA, and they’ve spent all this time cultivating it as the ultimate weapon against AFO, and blah blah blah. go on then, keep lecturing

NANA GODDAMMIT NONE OF THIS IS YOUR FAULT

girl what?? you did everything in your power to protect your family, and AFO, fucked up man that he is, targeted them anyway. there is one person and one person only to blame for what’s happened to Tomura, and that potato-faced asshole needs a good kick in the balls

NANA GODDAMMIT DON’T MAKE ME COME OVER THERE

SO HELP ME GOD!! I WILL GIVE YOU THE BIGGEST HUG YOU’VE EVER HAD!! THAT IS A THREAT

so now Nana is all “I’m just going to call my grandson a Thing to ensure that fandom has only the freshest, grass-fed no-hormones-added discourse this week”

I don’t even need to drop into the tags to know exactly which specific people are going to respond to this, and what kind of posts they are going to write lmao. everyone’s all caught up in the “that thing”, and meanwhile I’m over here completely hung up on this “nay” that’s appeared out of NOWHERE you guys. look at that. she really said “NAY”

Nana, my love, my dearest, I feel you girl I really do. but he’s not an unforgivable manifestation of pure evil, Deku is exactly right actually, he’s a boy in pain. you guys need to stop questioning Deku’s shounen protagonist instincts here and just let him work his sparkly magic. “let’s try and convince Midoriya Fucking Izuku that he can’t save someone” is a plan that is NEVER going to turn out well you guys

“DEKU GODDAMMIT WHAT IF WE CAN’T SAVE HIM” lmao it’s like an intervention

“DAMMIT DEKU JUST ADMIT YOU HAVE A SAVING PEOPLE PROBLEM!”

RED ALERT IT’S ANOTHER CLOSE-UP OF THE BACK OF MISTER TWO BON CLAY’S HEAD OMG

(ETA: I was too distracted with freaking out about Two and Three to really appreciate how ridiculously handsome First looks in this panel. but on my second readthrough it stood out so much that I had to go back and add an extra bullet point just to talk about how hot he is. look at him. wtf.)

THAT IS DEFINITELY AN UNDERCUT. THE PLOT THICKENSSSS. also those are fucking exhaust vents on Mister Three’s neck. MISTER THREE COULD YOU POSSIBLY BE RELATED TO THE IIDAS, PLEASE TELL ME YOUR SECRETS I’M DYING OVER HERE

so now Deku is launching into what will undoubtedly be a “saving people problems require SAVING PEOPLE SOLUTIONS” heroic counter-speech!

I mean, they can already feel the “lol nah I’m gonna try and save him” feelings running through him lol. ~OuR hEaRtS aNd MiNdS aRe CoNnEcTeD~ and all that. this is just a formality, but that doesn’t mean I don’t love a good shounen protag speech

oh wait hold up, do you mean to tell me that the whole “hearts and minds are connected” thing I was just mocking just a paragraph ago actually allowed Deku to feel what Tomura was feeling?? like literally feel it??

YET AGAIN these Tomura feels are pounding on my front door you guys?? they just will not quit?? people my house is already full of feels, does it look like I need you to sell me any more of them?? -- what do you mean, they’re free??

AW YISS THAT’S IT DEKU. THAT’S SOME GOOD SPEECH RIGHT THERE

I appreciate the contrast here between the Douchebag Triumvirate of Overhaul, Muscular, and Stain versus the Misguided Twosome of Gentle and La Brava. never let it be said that Deku doesn’t know the difference between a redeemable villain and an unredeemable one

OH NO -- OH MY GOD

someone please help me I need directions to the OFA Spooky Galactic Nebula Realm in this fictional Japanese manga land. it’s not on google maps. I need to give these two babies a big hug and wrap them up in a blanket and treat them to some McDonalds Happy Meals please help

other things: (1) ENDEAVOR CHILLING OUT IN DEKU’S “PEOPLE I HOLD DEAR” PANEL LMAO NEON DISCOURSE EXTRAVAGANZA, (2) “ONE FOR ALL IS A POWER TO SAVE, NOT TO KILL” I’M ABOUT TO CRY DEKU I LOVE YOU SO MUCH HOW IS IT EVEN POSSIBLE TO FEEL ALL THIS LOVE, (3) [SLAMS HANDS ON TABLE] THERE’S YOUR MOTHERFUCKING IRON WILL!!!!!!!! -- I’m sorry, please don’t call security, I’ll be good

I just randomly remembered that Deku is still saying all of this in his muffled “FMMPHHMMPHMM” voice and I’m somehow cracking up lol. so actually it’s a very good thing Their Hearts And Minds Are Connected, otherwise they’d no doubt be all, “...what?”

(ETA: so I completely missed this on account of it literally not being visible in the scan at all, but in the raw you can clearly see Baby Kacchan and Baby Shouto fanboying over All Might in two of these panels, and excuse me, ma’am??

thank you very much Deku for including them in your montage, particularly since you’ve never seen Baby Shouto before lol. amazingly accurate image you managed to conjure up, all things considered.)

SDKFJLSKHG -- AS IF ON CUE???

HE’S SO ADORABLE HELP?? Trippy Space All Might looks like he’s about to cry, and First is all “don’t crack a smile... you have to be Firm and Serious here... dammit, don’t smile” omg

anyways! YOU GO DEKU. “MY QUIRK MY RULES, BITCHES” damn, son

KLJLKKHLG TRIPPY SPACE ALL MIGHT LITERALLY ACTUALLY IS CRYING ALL MIGHT HOW COULD YOU DO THIS TO ME

“I JUST... [CLENCHES FIST] REALLY LOVE SAVING PEOPLE” FUCKING HELL LMAO THIS IS THE WORST INTERVENTION OF ALL TIME

Deku is literally all “sure, maybe I’ll have to kill him, but have you guys also considered, MAYBE NOT??” it’s no use Nana he’s too powerful

LMAO FIRST

“like I’ve been saying this whole time, you should definitely try saving Shigaraki Tomura.” “but, uh... First, didn’t you just -- ” “shut up”

(ETA: clearly it’s not just his brother who inherited those smooth-talking genes.)

so now Deku has turned back into a sixteen year old and his clothes have gone missing again. just OFA things

dskljdlsklgk

yes... sure... “testing” you...

HEY

FIRST OF ALL, DAMN YOU HORIKOSHI YOU MADE NANA CRY. even if I’m pretty sure they’re actually tears of happiness/relief. and SECOND OF ALL, “TELL MY BOYFRIEND I SAID HI” DJSKDLKJJL ANYWAY MAYBE GRAN, NANA, AND MR. SHIMURA WERE IN A THROUPLE

[SCREAMS]

WHY WOULD YOU END IT THERE?? WHY WOULD YOU END IT THERE!!!!!

(ETA: and two-to-one odds that we cut away to some other scene once they finally start to turn around next week. I’M CALLING IT NOW. giving myself a week to brace myself for the rage.)

fucking hell. well if anyone needs me I will be adding Horikoshi fucking Kouhei to the list of irredeemable villains, peace

#bnha 305 #midoriya izuku #shigaraki tomura #shimura tenko #shimura nana #ofa the first #banjou daigorou #bnha #boku no hero academia #bnha spoilers #mha spoilers #bnha manga spoilers #makeste reads bnha #'deku. sweetheart. your other vestiges and I just want what's best for you'#'have you tried... *not* saving people?'#only to backpedal SPECTACULARLY when he was all 'WHAT DO YOU MEAN NOT SAVING THEM'#yeah okay guys #you're not fooling anyone #but it's okay I still love you

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tennessoui · 3 years

Note

would you be willing to go more indepth on the TA au first kiss scene?

i'd be willing to apparently really really really fucking in-depth with the TA au first kiss scene it turns out.

(3.1k, no porn but a lil raunchy there at the end)

This is not the first time Obi-Wan has been over to Anakin’s house. At the start of the semester, back in August, Professor Skywalker had invited all of his TAs to dinner, to introduce himself to them outside of the classroom.

This is different, though. Obi-Wan’s alone as he dismounts from his bicycle and stands it up against the garage door. No one else will join them tonight. Anakin had only asked him over.

If Obi-Wan thinks about that too much, he’s not going to be able to ring the doorbell.

He’s already late as it is, having changed multiple times since Anakin had texted him. What does one wear to the house of one’s professor who one desperately wants to fuck?

Lingerie, obviously. Check.

But on top of that?

He’d gone with a navy blue sweater over a simple t-shirt and jeans. Even still, when Anakin opens the door, he feels immediately overdressed. Anakin’s only wearing a black tank top and dark gray sweatpants that cinch at the ankle.

Alright. It’s official. Obi-Wan doesn’t think he’s going to survive the night.

“Obi, great!” Professor Skywalker exclaims, ushering him in and out of the cold November air. “I was worried you’d slipped on ice riding over here. It really is starting to get dangerous to bike in this sort of weather.” His tone becomes disapproving, something that absolutely doesn’t make Obi-Wan’s cock twitch in his pants. “I’ve seen your tires, they’re not up to the way it gets icy up here.”

Obi-Wan could say that he knows the weather better than Professor Skywalker, seeing as how he’s been a student at the same school for going on five years now, and Professor Skywalker still has partially-unpacked moving boxes sitting around his living room.

But what he says instead is, “Yes, Professor,” which makes Anakin freeze for a second before he hurries into motion again.

It’s interesting, is all.

“I told you to call me Anakin, Obi-Wan,” Anakin says sharply, turning away. Alright, yes. Obi-Wan’s body does react to that tone.

“Sorry, Professor,” Obi-Wan murmurs with a half-smile when he sees the way Anakin’s back stiffens for a second.

“You must think I have the patience of a saint,” Anakin mutters to himself. Louder, he says, “Shoes off and do you want some tea?”

Obi-Wan bends down to start untying his shoes, perking up at the mention of tea. “You have tea? I’ve never seen you drink tea on campus.”

“I have rooibos and earl grey,” Anakin shouts from the kitchen. Obi-Wan stands, shoeless, to follow him curiously, looking around the house as he goes. The entrance hallway opens up into the living room, which is sunken into the floor. There’s a dining room table a few feet from the couch, positioned next to a window looking into the kitchen.

There are still moving boxes scattered around, even though it’s already mid-November.

“Earl grey, thank you,” Obi-Wan says absently, still taking in Anakin’s home. Gently he lays his messenger bag on the table next to Anakin’s laptop and retrieves the papers he’s been invited over here to grade. When the kettle goes off, he peers through the window to watch Anakin assemble his cup. “Oh, that’s my favorite brand,” he says happily. Anakin flushes and busies himself putting away the apparently incriminating boxes of tea.

“What a coincidence,” Anakin replies, handing the cup to him through the window. Obi-Wan wraps his cold hands around the mug and allows the warmth to travel through his body. He’d forgotten his gloves, an idiotic move that can only be blamed on his nerves for the night.

But now that he’s here, he suddenly doesn’t feel quite so nervous anymore. It feels natural to sit with Anakin like this at his dining room table and grade their students’ work.

It feels right and scarily easy.

They get to work with little more chatter, as these papers are supposed to be handed back the next section class.

After one high score and two middling ones, Obi-Wan sets down his pen. “You still haven’t unpacked everything?” He says this observation like a question.

Anakin looks up at him from the paper in front of him and adjusts his glasses as he processes the words. “No, not really,” he agrees. “I never usually do, not until I find something that makes me want to stay in one place for a while.”

Obi-Wan’s hands tighten around his mug of tea. His voice comes out more strangled than he’d like. “You’re thinking of leaving?”

“It’s a temporary position, Obi,” Anakin says slowly, taking off his glasses and setting them down on the essay. “I’m renting this place from the school, but even then the lease is up in February.”

Obi-Wan doesn’t know what his heart is doing, but he doesn’t think he’s ever been in so much pain. Not to be dramatic or anything, but the thought of Anakin leaving as quickly as he’s blown into Obi-Wan’s life feels as if it can kill him.

“Oh,” is all he says. “Do you have a bathroom I can use?”

Minutes later, Obi-Wan is staring at himself in the mirror, hands gripping the sink. He’s still reeling from the very real possibility that Anakin will leave in a few short months. That he’ll go to some other college in some other city and make everyone fall in love with him there as well, and Obi-Wan will never find out what it feels like to kiss him because he’d been too scared of breaking the rules or being rejected to try.

Resolve forms in his mind. If Anakin is looking for a reason to stay, Obi-Wan will give him one.

But Obi-Wan’s never really set about seducing a professor before, is the problem. He doesn’t know what Anakin likes in his partners, and he doesn’t know if he even really likes Obi-Wan at all. There are hints sometimes, certainly, the way he’ll stare at him in class, the casual way he’ll touch his lower back when they’re walking somewhere, all of his behavior that night at the bar near Halloween.

But there’s a difference between feeling arousal and acting on it. And there’s an even bigger difference between wanting someone once in your bed for the night and wanting someone enough to stick around town for a few years while they finish school.

So it’s not even seducing Anakin that is real problem here. It’s keeping him interested afterwards. And Obi-Wan needs to start now, before the semester ends. If he waits until January, he won’t have enough time before Anakin’s lease is up. Hell, he doesn’t even have enough time now, not really. He’d probably need four months alone just to get Anakin to look at him with more than dark, considering eyes.

Alright. Alright.

He’ll start with coffee tomorrow morning. He’ll go out there and finish grading papers with Anakin, and then tomorrow before class begins, he’ll bring Anakin a cup of coffee. It’s a start.

Anakin’s made a fair amount of progress by the time Obi-Wan exits the bathroom-cum-war council room. “Alright?” The professor looks up with a small furrow between his eyebrows.

He’s so gorgeous Obi-Wan almost gives up right then and there, but he’s never been a quitter.

“Alright,” he agrees, picking up his mug and carrying it to the kitchen. He’ll just add some more water and a little bit more milk and get started on the rest of the papers. The sooner he finishes, the sooner he can go home and start planning. The thought makes him excited and nervous all at once.

He glances up through the kitchen window just in time to see Anakin lean back in his chair and stretch his arms so far up that his tank top rides up enough that his tummy--or, well, defined abdominal muscles as it were--flashes into view.

Which, of course, makes Obi-Wan’s life flash before his eyes. He trips and then promptly curses when he rights himself but half the tea spills out over his sweater.

“Obi-Wan?” Anakin’s there immediately, as if he’s teleported from the table to the kitchen instead of gone around the normal way. “Are you alright? Are you burned?”

“No, no, I’m fine,” Obi-Wan mutters, blushing furiously. His seduction of Anakin is never going to work if he keeps behaving like a clumsy idiot in front of the older man. “Just got on my sweater, it’s fine.”

Anakin’s hands grab at the hem of Obi-Wan’s sweater, and when he doesn’t protest, slowly drags it up and over his head, careful to keep the wet stain from his hair.

Obi-Wan’s breath catches in his throat at the look of intense concentration Anakin’s wearing, how dark his eyes are. It’s almost exactly what he wants, but it’s not enough because Anakin backs away quickly, sweater clutched in his hands. “I’ll get you one of mine,” he says gruffly, turning to leave the kitchen, but Obi-Wan stops him with a hand on his arm.

“It’s really fine, Anakin, I’m not cold.”

“You’re covered in goosebumps,” Anakin points out, laying his hand on Obi-Wan’s own arm.

Obi-Wan swallows and bites at his lip. “I’m not cold,” he promises. A part of him wants Anakin to hear what he’s not saying. A part of him is afraid he will.

But Anakin only nods jerkily once before exiting the kitchen and returning to his seat at the table. “You’ll tell me as soon as you feel so much as a slight chill,” he insists, picking up his glasses and resettling them on his face.

“Yes, Professor,” Obi-Wan murmurs as he sits down, just to watch Anakin’s jaw clench tightly for a second before relaxing.

They resume grading in silence, but this silence is tense. A different beast than the previous one.

Halfway through his sixth paper of the night, he furrows his eyebrows at a student’s paragraph. “Professor,” he says, standing and moving to lean over Anakin’s shoulder to show him the error. He places one of his hands delicately on Anakin’s skin, because he is a weak, weak man. “They’ve gotten this bit extremely wrong, but the paragraph after this one is basically the same thing but with the correct information. What, do you think it’s just an editing error?”

Anakin looks at the paper without saying anything.

Obi-Wan adjusts his position so he’s more leaning over next to him instead of behind him and points out the relevant sections. “Would you dock points, do you think?”

Anakin’s jaw bunches as his nostrils flare for several long seconds, before he seems to snap out of whatever had taken his mind away. “Take a few off, but for formatting not for content,” the professor decides.

Nodding in agreement, Obi-Wan stays where he is and makes a note in the margins. He looks up at Anakin when he feels his eyes rest heavily on him. “What?” he asks. “Do I have pen on my face?”

“Just haven’t seen you this dressed down before,” Anakin’s voice is incredibly low and the timbre of it makes a shiver run down Obi-Wan’s spine. “You’re always so buttoned-up in class.”

Obi-Wan wets his lips. Somehow the words that come out of his mouth are not ones he’s approved of saying. “That’s not true,” he says so quietly it’s almost a whisper. “I wouldn’t say I was buttoned-up at the bar.”

Anakin inhales sharply and he leans towards him with dark, dark eyes. “You were all dressed up then, weren’t you?” he murmurs. Obi-Wan can’t stop himself from swaying in Anakin’s direction, even if he wanted to.

Slowly, he nods, paper forgotten under his professor’s burning gaze.

“Do you still have it?” Anakin asks hoarsely. “I’ve been wondering what you did with that little dress for weeks now.”

“Didn’t keep it,” Obi-Wan replies honestly. His mouth dries incredibly fast when Anakin’s hand falls to his arm.

“You’ve got goosebumps again,” Anakin observes, rubbing a thumb over his skin. “Are you cold?”

“Not cold,” he whispers, moving closer than he’s ever dared. He’s terrified that if he speaks louder than he is now, the moment will be ruined. They’ll snap out of this, whatever this is, go back to grading papers, and then Obi-Wan will leave and tomorrow morning he’ll buy Anakin coffee and try to make himself come across as the perfect life partner for his professor.

But he wants this so much. He thinks they’re standing on the edge of something that could very well be amazing.

Anakin’s opening his mouth to say something, but Obi-Wan cuts him off. He wouldn’t be able to hear it over his pounding heart anyway. “I kept the lingerie though,” he says. “Do you want to see them, Professor?”

For a second, those words and all they imply hang in the scant few inches between them.

Then, “Jesus fucking Christ, baby,” Anakin groans, sounding torn to shreds. He pushes his chair back so fast that Obi-Wan stumbles.

Anakin’s hands are there to catch him and pull him into his arms, mouth descending onto his.

Obi-Wan moans into the kiss immediately, wrapping his arms around Anakin’s neck and tugging their bodies as close together as he can get them, making helpless little noises he’s never made before in his life. Anakin’s not quiet either, not as his hands roam down from Obi-Wan’s waist to trace the outline of his ass before he grabs it and rocks them together. The pleasure skyrockets when their bulges grind against each other, and Obi-Wan has to break the kiss just to gasp for air.

Feeling brave and desired and hot, Obi-Wan grabs one of Anakin’s hands and slips it down the waistline of his pants, just far enough that he can feel the spread of lace over his skin.

“Baby,” Anakin groans again, rubbing his thumb over the cheap silk of the Halloween costume’s panties. “Baby, fuck.”

Obi-Wan pushes back into the hand, trying to convey how much Anakin really can fuck him, should he want. Obi-Wan wants.

Before he can say anything though, Anakin’s lips claim his again and his tongue fucks aggressively into his mouth. It feels so good, especially when Anakin scratches up the skin of his back gently with one hand. The touch has Obi-Wan turning pliant and weak in the knees, something Anakin must realize because he edges Obi-Wan closer and closer to the table before sweeping the contents off with one hand and lifting him up with the other.

He spreads his legs automatically and for a second everything is perfect when Anakin comes to stand between them, mouth biting searing kisses into his neck while Obi-Wan tries to keep rubbing their pelvises together. He throws his head back and to the side with a high moan, mouth falling open as he stares uncomprehendingly at the ceiling.

Does this mean he doesn’t have to buy Anakin coffee before class tomorrow?

The thought of school is like a bucket of ice water poured directly over his head. Almost frantically, he pushes at Anakin’s chest, trying to get space between them.

Anakin detaches himself from Obi-Wan’s skin with the utmost reluctance. His lips are red and wet.

But Obi-Wan needs to be responsible, and he’s currently sitting on his professor’s table, papers scattered on the floor around them. “Fuck, half of these weren’t stabled together,” he cries, hopping down and starting to pick up the students’ papers. “Shit, Professor--”

“You were just sucking on my tongue like a professional slut, Obi-Wan, I think you can call me Anakin,” Anakin bites out, working his jaw furiously as he watches him crawl around on all fours from above. The nerve of the man for causing the mess and not helping at all to clean it up!

Obi-Wan feels just petty enough that he pauses at one of the papers and arches his back, pushing his ass out and looking over his shoulder. “I thought you liked it when I called you professor, Professor,” he responds in what he hopes comes out sounding mostly sultry.

It seems to work if Anakin’s reaction is anything to go by. “Fucking hell, Obi-Wan,” the man snarls, but his sweatpants make the twitch of his cock impossible to miss.

“What a pair we make,” Obi-Wan says, just for the fun of torturing Anakin. “You’re not wearing any underwear and I’m wearing lingerie.”

He finishes with the papers and stands to stack them on the table.

“I think you should go,” Anakin grits out, watching Obi-Wan intently.

Obi-Wan’s heart stops for a second and he’s suddenly terrified he pushed too far, too fast, that Anakin hadn’t enjoyed the kiss, that he remembered he was too annoying to keep around, that--

“If you don’t go now, you’ll be spending the night in my bed, and I think we need to talk first,” his professor finishes gently, reaching out to rub his thumb over Obi-Wan’s lip.

Obi-Wan licks it immediately, and when no protest is made, brings it further into his mouth.

“Obi-Wan,” Anakin sounds extremely pained.

Slowly, he drops his thumb from between his lips. There’s hardly a foot of space between them. It’s too far. It’s too close.

Anakin’s right. They do need to talk. And it shouldn’t happen tonight.

“Can I borrow a sweatshirt for the bike ride back?” he asks quietly, crossing his arms over his chest. “Only it’s cold outside and--”

And you smell really nice, he finishes in his head. Out loud, he says, “And I think I’d look good wearing something of yours, don’t you think, Professor?”

Anakin’s eyes narrow and his hands clench tightly into fists at his side. “I didn’t have you pegged as a brat.”

“You haven’t had me pegged at all yet,” Obi-Wan points out with a grin. As if magnetized, Anakin’s thumb comes up and digs into one of his dimples.

“I’ve wanted to lick these since the first time I saw you smile,” his professor whispers like they’re in a confessional.

It’s incredibly easy to reach out and trace one of the lines of Anakin’s octopus tattoo down his arm in return. “I’ve wanted to do the same with your tattoos for months now,” he admits. “Will you let me? After we talk? Will you let me put my mouth on you?”

His fingers dance across the front of Anakin’s sweats, before veering back up to more friendly territory.

Anakin’s eyes are dark with promise when he nods in response. “I’ll do more than let you, baby,” he growls. “I’ll put your mouth on me myself.”

Obi-Wan shivers.

No, he probably doesn’t need to buy Anakin coffee tomorrow before class.

But he probably will anyway. Just because the way Anakin’s looking at him makes him think the other man isn’t going to get much sleep tonight either, and it’s the least he can do.

#asks #ta au #obikin #i feel like obi-wan constantly getting and losing his confidence is really sexy of him actually #i mean jk i just wanted to write a lil minx obi-wan lol #enjoy <3

113 notes · View notes

adorerdraco · 4 years

Text

Healing Heart ✧ Draco x Reader Mini-Series PART 2

PART 1

Summary: PART 2 ! of Draco falling in love with reader during his sixth year (HBP) and dealing with the consequences of opening his heart to someone.

Warnings: angst !!! but just a little fluff as always, BLOOD, violence, more crying, very detailed sectumsempra scene, mentions of death

Words: 4.9K

A/N: omg i can’t believe so many people liked the first one and to everyone who left me a comment, I appreciate you so much you have no idea plsss you guys are so beautiful. but here is part 2 and I hope you guys like it as much as the first oneee !!!!!!!! this one got dramatic. I’m thinking of doing a part 3, but I’m not sure and i also want to make it be mostly fluff so PLS let me knowww <3 i do not own gif.

It was an awful feeling; the feeling of needing a specific someone to bring him a peace he so very much lacked in his life. It was a feeling of not being able to feel joy unless he had you by his side. He felt stupid and pathetic knowing he had made an even bigger mess of himself and regrettably of you. He felt more weak too, wondering to himself why he couldn’t stop crying and do what he needs to do without several potions or you with him to get him through the day.

He didn’t want to need anyone. He didn’t want to need help. He didn’t want to need advice.

“Why can’t I just do this?” he cried to himself one night in the room of requirement, kicking something by his foot across the floor in frustration. He stared at the dead bird in hopelessness, not wanting to move it from its spot in the vanishing cabinet. He had managed to send inanimate objects, but not living things and that was only a discovery he was able to make when you were still in his life.

It had been weeks, since he left you under the tree, broken and in tears. He regressed back into to his old ways of lacking proper self care, of sleeping and eating, his studies being the last thing on his mind, him distancing himself from his Slytherin friends again. It was right back to square one, maybe even below that this time.

In Potions, he didn’t dare look at you, ever. He moved to a seat in the very back of the class where he would be hidden from you and could sulk to himself in peace.

“Mr. Malfoy, forgive me as it is none of my business, but why are you no longer working with Miss Y/L/N?” Slughorn asked him one day as he came by to grade his potion.

“It is nothing of concern, Professor,” Draco answered bitterly, holding back the scowl that wanted to show but deciding against being any more rude to authority. “I just rather work by myself.”

“It’s a shame, Mr. Malfoy, you both were my star pupils,” Slughorn mixes the potion around, eyeing it with a frown. “Now the both of you are falling behind. This potion is not passing, you forgot to mix in the dried periwinkle leaves.”

Draco never noticed how you would glance at him throughout Potions class. Of course, he was ignoring you and you felt that nasty realization every time your eyes landed on the platinum blond.

You felt numb, to say the least. You cried for days and days on end. If you weren’t in class, you were in your dorm, wrapped underneath the covers wondering why someone you shared so much love and time with had dropped you with no explanation. You tried endlessly to get him to talk to you, cornering him in the corridors, going up to him in class, but he would ignore you until you went away. He never once met your eyes, and your heart broke more every time you saw the coldness in his icy gray’s that made you feel like you didn’t even exist to him.

Your roommates and friends had gotten involved, forcing you to take better care of yourself. Staying up and hugging you while you cried. Bringing you meals from the Great Hall into the dorm. Brushing your hair when it started to become matted. Encouraging you to divulge yourself in studies rather than your sadness.

“Y/N, you are so much more than what you’re feeling,” your closest friend whispered to you one night as you cried in her embrace. “You can’t keep going like this. It’s okay to cry and be sad, but this is eating you up. Remember how strong you are. Remember the healer you are trying to be. You’ve helped so many people, inside and out, let your friends help you now.”

You nodded sadly, and finally accepted the help your friends had been trying so desperately to give you. You allowed them to take you out into the Great Hall again for meals. To Hogsmead for a fun day out. To the courtyard where you guys would sit and just talk. It was nice, feeling your old and normal life coming to light again even if it was just for a couple hours. But when you couldn’t sleep at night and your mind wandered off to Draco, you felt that same empty feeling of a gaping hole in your heart sting at you.

There was nothing you could do or say anymore. The cornering him was getting desperate and made you feel weak. The ignoring was never going to stop. You didn’t cry anymore, forcing yourself to bottle up your feelings for him deep down into your mind, body and spirit to the point where you just tried your best to recognize him as a dream.

Your brain didn’t know any better, right?

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*

Draco sat on the floor of his dorm, head resting against the side of his bed as he twiddled with the letter from his mother between his fingertips. His owl, Aquila, sat beside him and enjoyed the loving pets he was giving her with his other hand. It was rare she let him do this, but he figured it was because she felt that he might have possibly needed this. She nibbled on a crumb of a biscuit he gave her that she had brought with her on her journey from home. Draco sighed and opened the letter again, his eyes scanning over the perfect cursive of his mother’s handwriting once more.

My Dearest Draco,

How are you, my love? I feel as though we have gone too long without writing to each other. I must say, the Manor feels lonely without you and your father here, but the house elves have been keeping me company. They are quite entertaining, some of them. I do hope you enjoy the small pastries I sent with Aquila that the elves also send on their behalf.

I know the pain you are feeling, my son. I know it wears at you and I am deeply sorry that I cannot change it or help you. Please do entrust in Professor Snape, as he is the only one who can help you and understands your circumstances. You cannot get through this alone.

Please also remember that you are just a boy. In these times of turmoil, it is easy to lose yourself in your own despair. You are young, Draco, only 16 years of life and it has already failed you. Please find it in your heart to locate the little several joys in life that keep you going. Despite your situation, It is okay to be that 16 year old boy and revel in those joys for as long as you can before it is too late and they are no longer there. Do not succumb, it is what he wants.

I will always love you, and I hope to see you soon.

All my love,

Mother

He felt tears sting at his eyes, clutching the letter to his chest as if his mother had charmed it with the feeling of a hug. It wasn’t, but he swore he could feel it. He felt sad, knowing she was all alone in that house, but suddenly remembered that his aunt was seeking refuge with her at the Malfoy Manor and his mother left it out for the sake of keeping Bellatrix’s location secret. Seeing as she was a maddened Ex/Present Death Eater and escaped prisoner on the run. The thought of Bellatrix left a bitter and foul taste in his mouth, making him feel even worse that his mother was stuck at home with that beast who was nearly as bad as the Dark Lord himself. He didn’t care that that was her sister, his aunt, she had no empathy for anything, especially not for him. He recalls her telling him right before he went to school, that he should be grateful and honored for being entrusted with a task so important.

As much as Draco wanted nothing to do with his tasks, he didn’t ignore them. He begrudgingly let Bellatrix teach him Occlumency, something he desperately needed to learn and was now a little good at. He had even tried convincing himself that he needed to do this. It was all up to him. He was chosen for this. He hated it, but he was chosen nonetheless. And he would try with everything to save his family and to make them proud, even if it killed him.

He ignored the thoughts of his aunt and his dreadful life options, refocusing on the words his mother wrote to him. They echoed in his mind, imagining her saying them to him.

“It is okay to be that 16 year old boy and revel in those joys for as long as you can before it is too late and they are no longer there.”

His mind wandered to you, knowing full and well you were are the one and only joy in his life he so deeply desires. His mother’s words hit him hard, to the point where he almost ran out of his room to go look for you. Almost.

But he was stubborn and still couldn’t pull himself out of the mindset he had boxed himself in where he thought being with you would be worse in the end for you than not being with you.

So he went over to his desk, Aquila following him before flying up to the wooden surface where she perched herself in front of him as he sat down and pulled out a parchment and quill to begin his responding letter for his mother. He thanked her for the pastries, told her he would try his best in confiding in Snape, loosely promised he would fulfill her wishes of him finding some happiness, and gave her his love. He gave the letter to Aquila, smoothing the feathers on the top of her head one last time before she chirped and flew to the window and then out of his room and into the open dark starry sky.

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*

More weeks had gone by. And then a month. You were seeing less and less of Draco and for a healing heart, it was the best thing for you, but also the worst. He had even began skipping class as much as he could, not that anyone ever noticed, except you and Slughorn of course.

“Miss Y/L/N, may I have a word?” Slughorn came up to you while you were working on a potion with your friend. The same friend who had given up her seat to Draco who she now despised and regretted ever doing in the first place. She gave you and the professor a look before getting up and heading to the front of the class where she began to pick up vials and jars to store the potion.

“Of course, Professor,” you answer with a polite smile.

“I spoke to Mr. Malfoy about a month ago, he seemed rather distraught,” he began, placing a finger over his chin in thought. “I’m beginning to grow worried of the boy! Is there a reason he’s no longer showing up to class?”

You swallowed thickly before responding, “your guess is as good as mine, Professor.”

“Ah, well, one mustn’t pry too much,” he says. “Also, I’m pleased to see your marks improving in the last couple weeks. Keep up the good work, Miss Y/L/N.”

And with that the professor turned around and left to go check on other students, your friend returning.

“What’d he want?” She asked, setting the supplies down on the table.

“Wanted to know about, Mr. Malfoy,” you mocked quietly, your voice turning bitter when the name left your lips.

You knew Draco’s disappearance was your fault and you felt that twang of hurt beat against your chest thinking about it. That whole conversation with the Professor killed your entire mood. It wasn’t great to begin with, but the feeling of nothing had turned into hurt.

You were roughly stirring the cauldron, preparing to put the nearly finished potion into the two large jars so it could sit overnight. They were right beside your arm and you felt your elbow collide with the glasses, cringing internally when you heard them crash onto the ground and shatter. Luckily there was nothing in them, but you had still made a mess of glass. In your heat of embarrassment and with the people are you now staring at you, you forgot you could easily clean up your mess with magic so like a klutz, you instead bent down to pick up the shards of glass that scattered the floor with your bare hands.

A loud gasp left your mouth as you began to pick them up, feeling the largest piece of glass in your palm deeply slash the skin of your hand. You dropped it, feeling the blood begin to drip down your arms and onto the floor.

“Oh no, Y/N,” your friend sighed from above you, gripping onto your other arm and lifting you up. “Are you okay?”

The question was meant for your hand, but you felt it hit your soul just as it did whenever someone asked you that question when you were so overwhelmingly not okay. You shook your head no, the pain from your hand and your heart taking over you completely as tears began to trickle down your face.

Slughorn came up to the table, waving his wand over the mess of the floor and fixed the damage done to the vases and making the small puddle of blood disappear.

“Class is dismissed, students, you are free to go to the Great Hall for lunch,” Slughorn announced and everyone quickly packed up their things and hurried out except for you and your friend. The full-bellied Professor watched you with concern and you turned to your friend where she took your hand in hers and placed it palm up for you.

You shuddered, bringing up your wand to the cut and simply thought your healing spell before watching it completely fade into a faint light pink scar.

“I’m going to explain to Slughorn what happened and put away our stuff,” she says to you, a sad glint in her eyes. “Go clean yourself up and I’ll meet you at our table for lunch with everyone when you’re done.”

You could only pathetically nod before you slung your bag over your shoulder and trudged off into the direction of a bathroom. You decided to go up to Moaning Myrtle’s bathroom, wanting to be alone from everyone so you could clean yourself up in peace and also have a meltdown. You didn’t know why you wanted to torture yourself with the ghosted memories you shared with Draco in that bathroom, but you still went.

You took your time getting there and you were only down the hall when you saw the entrance. It was then when you heard a familiar ghastly screaming and wailing. It was horribly loud.

“MURDER! MURDER IN THE BATHROOM! MURDER!”

Moaning Myrtle floated from the large wooden double doors, screaming so loud it ricocheted off all the walls of the now deathly silent castle. You felt all the blood drain from your face as an awful and sickening feeling had bubbled in your stomach.

“It better not be Draco,” you said to yourself, your legs taking longer strides towards the bathroom. “Please, don’t let it be Draco.”

By now, you were sprinting towards the end of the corridor, throwing your bag to the floor as soon as you reached the doors and flung yourself through and into the destroyed bathroom, stepping into a pool of water that had streaks of crimson red. Your eyes followed the trail of blood, stopping suddenly when you found the source.

A blood-curdling scream twice as loud and stronger than Myrtle’s, left your throat as you tripped over your own feet to reach him. You saw Harry Potter, standing a little ways by the door, a panicked and pained look in his eyes as he tried to understand what he had just done.

Once you reached Draco’s nearly lifeless body covered in angry red gashes, you fell next to him, his eyes finally meeting yours for the first time in ages. He was breathing raggedly in choked grunts, clutching at his mauled chest as he struggled to breath. The stormy eyes you loved so much were clouded in fear. Nothing but fear.

You shoved your hand into your pocket, searching for your wand and pulled it out hastily. You shakily waved it over his cuts, thinking and saying any spell you knew that came to your mind in the matter of 5 seconds. This was what you did. This was all you did. Why couldn’t you heal him? None of your spells worked.

“I, I can’t heal you,” you sobbed, resorting to putting your hands over his chest at a failing attempt to stop the bleeding. “I’m sorry, I’m so sorry.”

“n...o,” Draco said weakly and quietly. He mustered up all his remaining strength and placed a bloodied hand over yours, you grabbed it tightly and leaned over him when you realized he was trying to speak. “S-sorry. lo...ve. y...ou.”

It felt like there was a knife in your chest being repeatedly stabbed into your heart and twisted. His eyes closed and you cried harder, knowing you were going to lose him. Everything was happening so fast. You had only been in the bathroom a solid 10 seconds, everything around you moving in a slow blur but so quickly.

It was as if Merlin had answered your pleas, the sound of the door slammed open and a maddened looking Snape rushed inside, pushing Harry roughly to the side and looking down at Draco and then you only momentarily before dropping to his knees beside him and opposite of you.

“Vulnera sanentur,” he began running his wand over the cuts on Draco’s chest and you watched with wide teary eyes as the blood pooling around you began to retreat back into the wounds. He said it again, and once the blood was back in, the cuts began to close. He chanted it one last time, and the cuts had healed into thick and reddened scars. “Miss Y/L/N, please help Draco over to the hospital wing for some dittany, and quickly please. We might be able to help with the scarring, perhaps avoid it completely. I need to deal with, Potter.”

Draco was half conscious, a dazed and confused look in the gray of his eyes as they fluttered open and closed. You noticed the scar beginning to form on his paled face and you bit back a sob. You knew if that scar stayed there, it would only drive him into a deeper hatred for himself.

You quickly got up, Snape picking up Draco and throwing his arm over your shoulders so that you would be able to help him over to the hospital wing which luckily happened to be a hall away from the bathroom. The adrenaline and sheer love for the boy was pumping through your body which had made you feel stronger in basically carrying Draco through the halls. He was dragging his feet, mumbling incoherently and you couldn’t stop crying.

You saw the doors to the hospital wing open, Madam Pomfrey staring at the scene heading towards her in horror.

“DITTANY!” you called to her. She threw open the doors wider, nodding before she ran back inside in a hurry. A passing seventh year Hufflepuff had dropped all of his books and his bag and linked arms with Draco’s free side, helping you take him inside with much more ease. Madam Pomfrey yelled to rest Draco on the nearest bed and she quickly returned with the dittany, shooing the both of you away from him.

“I’m afraid the two of you are going to have to leave, immediately,” she demands, her hand reaching up to grab the privacy curtain before shielding her and the love of your life from you and the prying eyes of shocked students gathered at the doorway to see what had happened. The Hufflepuff that had helped was already out the door, but you couldn’t bring your legs to move.

“Away from the door!” McGonagall suddenly appeared from behind the crowd of students, a disgruntled look etched into her aged skin. “Return to your house’s common rooms! That goes for you too, Miss Y/L/N.”

She gently placed both her hands on either of your shoulders, guiding you outside the door and out of the hospital wing. She gave you an empathetic glance before grabbing the handles of the doors and shutting them with a loud clang.

The lingering students stared at you in discomfort and grimaces. You looked around, still in a daze and then looked down at your body. You were drenched in blood and water, looking straight out of a horror movie and closely resembling the clothing of the Bloody Baron, Slytherin’s house ghost.

Everything still felt quiet and slow. You didn’t even notice your friends rushing towards you in hysterics, throwing you in hugs as you only stood there, unable to react. You let them pull you away, leading you to your house’s common room, tripping every now and then. You caught a glimpse of Moaning Myrtle in the distance, her cries still very loud and apparent. She had gone around the entirety of Hogwarts wailing the same news that had broken you, only this time you heard the new choice words she had added along the way.

“MURDER! MURDER IN THE BATHROOM! MURDER! HARRY POTTER HAS MURDERED DRACO MALFOY!”

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*

You sat immobile on the edge of your seat besides Draco’s hospital bed. Much to your surprise, Madam Pomfrey had allowed you to stay overnight with the fallen Slytherin Prince. You recognized it might be her way of paying you back from all your countless volunteering and because of that, she trusted you in knowing exactly what to do when it came to the medical field of the wizarding world.

It was around three in the morning, the incident having happened well past twelve hours ago. You were showered now and in a fresh pair of robes, your pajamas holding in your warmth as a cold draft flowed throughout the dark dimly lit room. The hospital wing was tall and large, it felt like a castle in itself, and it only made you feel more feeble. You scooted your chair closer to the bed, placing a hand onto the mattress right next to Draco’s paled slender hand.

Fingertips ghosted over his knuckles, your body shivering at the closeness of the near contact. You didn’t know how he was going to react when he woke up. It was all a waiting game, and your heart squeezed with anxiety as you awaited his regained consciousness. You didn’t forget the words he said to you right before he slipped away. They rang and rattled in your head like a pinball game on loop.

He had told you he loved you.

The thought of him dying and you never being able to tell him you felt the same haunted you. You thanked Merlin that Snape got there when he did. You also made a mental note to hex Harry into the oblivion the next time you got a chance.

You sighed deeply, your voice quavering as your ran a hand through your tangled hair. His face glistened under the orange lamp on the bedside table, his skin tinged with a grayish undertone and his eye bags deep and dark. The scar you had seen on his face earlier was gone, the skin now just holding a skinny reddened line going across his features as if he was just hit with something. You smiled slightly, knowing it would be gone in the morning and feeling grateful for him that he wouldn’t be scarred with it.

His body was covered in a hospital gown and bandages infused with dittany, but seeing how bad his cuts were before they healed, you knew those would leave something behind no matter what. In your studying towards becoming a Healer, you read about the effects of dark magic and the marks it left behind on its victims. You didn’t know what spell had done what it did to Draco, but it was violent and radiated with darkness.

The softness of his his skin was met under yours, your hand finally allowing itself to fall over his and you let out a sharp exhale at the touch. It wasn’t like earlier when you were holding onto him for dear life, rough and filled with fear and pain, this time it felt familiar. It felt warm despite the coldness of your skin and his. You shook quietly, another set of tears rippling through your body as you tried your best to not wake him. You sat up and slowly leaned over him, looking down at him to observe his peaceful features. He slept soundly and peacefully, his breathing even and quiet. Even though he almost died earlier today, he looked as though he was having the best sleep of his life. The sleep he gravely needed but seemed to never be able to get.

Your free hand softly rested on his cheek now and you carefully moved your lips towards his forehead where you placed a long kiss. A stray tear had fallen onto his skin as you pulled away and you frowned, wiping it away with your sleeve before moving your hand up towards his hair. You smoothed it back, the soft blond strands feeling like silk between your fingers. He was a dream, an angel to you. You stood by what you had told him that unfortunate day under the tree, he was good, and you would tell him again and again until he believed it himself.

Just as you pulled back from him, a sharp gasp erupted and he shot up in bed, grabbing and tearing at his gown as breathless quick pants fell from his lips.

“Hey, Draco, I’m here, you’re okay, relax,” you coo gently, grabbing his hands and holding them tightly in yours so he wouldn’t tear his bandages. Your heart battered against your chest, the waterworks in your eyes beginning all over again. He stared at you, searching your eyes and he began to cry too. The same broken and deep sobbing from months ago you had grown accustomed to hearing.

He threw himself onto you, crying even harder as his arms wrapped around you, his hand on the back of your head pressing you into his chest. You climbed into the bed in deep shaky breaths so that you were now sitting on your knees between his legs. It was overwhelming, to put it lightly, both of you crying into each other as you remembered the fall out, the lonely days and nights, the wasted opportunities, the endless missing of one another’s presence in their lives.

“I’m sorry,” Draco chokes out. “I never meant to hurt you. I thought that by pushing you away, you would be safer, but I can’t do it anymore. I need you, I love you, Y/N.”

You cradled him in your arms, rocking the two of you back and forth, and you shook your head reverently.

“I forgave you the second I thought I was going to lose you,” you respond quickly. “Merlin, Draco, you scared me to death. I thought you were gone.”

The same words from his mother echoed in his head again and he finally understood what they meant.

“It is okay to be that 16 year old boy and revel in those joys for as long as you can before it is too late and they are no longer there.”

Darkness was going to arrive one way or another, it was going to steal the rest of whatever life he had left in him one day. It was out of his hands, out of his control. The time to live his life was now. Because he didn’t know when he would ever have this opportunity of love again, of safety, of light. Everything was undefined and unknown and he felt the anguishing regret of all his decisions when he had seen you in the bathroom hovering over him with a hopeless look in your eyes. He promised himself, to Merlin and to the sun, the moon and all the stars that in the 1% chance that he survived that close call with death, he would never abandon you again. His heart pained at the memory of him trying to sputter out his final ‘I love you,’ not knowing whether or not you heard it or if you understood how genuinely he had meant it.

The room was only filled with sniffles and shaky breathing, both of you still in the same rocking position, afraid that if you let each other go, the other is going to disappear.

“Draco,” you say, lifting his head up from the crook of your neck so that he could look you in the eyes. “I love you, too. More than you’ll ever know. Please don’t ever, ever leave again.”

“Not in a million years, darling.”

PART 3

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booksarelife-stuff · 3 years

Text

Dancin’ is a Dangerous Thing

James Potter/Lily Evans Potter (jily)

The moments in which James Potter and Lily Evans danced with each other. Pure fluff.

Word Count: 2,556

Read on AO3

The first time Lily Evans danced with James Potter, it was a complete accident.

It was fifth year, Gryffindors had not only won the Quidditch Cup, but the House Cup as well. The music is loud and blaring some wizarding band that Lily thinks is trying way too hard to be Queen.

She’s tipsy, but not drunk. Her fingertips are tingling and she knows her face is flushed. She just finished her second firewhiskey of the night before Mary pulled her to the part of the common room where most of the other Gryffindors were dancing.

She’s passed from partner to partner. She remembers Sirius at one point, watching him trying to teach Peter how to swing his hips. She laughed hysterically before Marlene pulled her back in.

She was sweaty when she spun right into James’s chest, almost knocking him over. He grabbed on to her to save himself from falling, his hands on her back, Lily’s face in his chest.

“Oof,” Lily said.

“A bit drunk there, Evans?” James asked as Lily pulled away. She was so close he could hear him over the music.

“Nope,” she said, stumbling. He snorted just as a new song started. This time it was Killer Queen.

“I love this song!” she yelled. Lily would deny that she was the one to grab James’s hand and pull him in to dance, but all she could remember was the warmth of his hand in hers and how she laughed when he twirled her.

The second time started with a question.

“Do wizards even have their own dances?” Mary asked, scrunching her nose. All the sixth year Gryffindor’s had snagged a table in the common room and were quietly doing their work until Sirius asked a question about Muggle traditions for his Muggle studies class.

“Nah,” James said from beside Peter. His feet were kicked up on the table as he leaned back in his chair. Alice had been doodling on his shoes, which Lily was sure James knew, but didn’t tell her to stop.

“I mean, we have the same,” Sirius said with a shrug, “Just use them in different places.”

“These pureblood boys had to take dancing lessons,” Marlene said, smugly. Sirius scoffed.

“Yeah, so we could dance with whatever cousin Mummy and Daddy picked out for us,” he said.

Lily blanched at that.

“Mum made me do it to get out my energy,” James said. “Never worked. I would just waltz around until I broke something.”

The table laughed.

“Lily, don’t you know how to waltz?” Mary asked. Lily sighed and nodded.

“We learned in primary school for some reason,” Lily said. “Like anyone one of us in Cokesworth was going to need that knowledge.”

“Show me,” James said, his bright hazel eyes meeting hers. Lily raised an eyebrow at him.

“What?” she asked, feeling the heat of a challenge from him. He smirked at her, a hand reaching up to his hair to mess it up.

“You said no one from Cokesworth was going to need that knowledge,” he said. “So I’m asking you to show me.”

She knew what James was doing. It was plain as day. It was either a challenge or an excuse to dance with her, but frankly, she really didn’t care which it was, based on the way the butterflies erupted in her stomach.

“I need a partner,” she said, sticking her hand out towards him.

“You’re on,” he said, closing his book and dropping his feet to the ground.

The warmth of his hand made her whole body tingle and she hoped her face wasn’t bright red as she felt his other hand appear on the small of her back, the starting position. Lily wondered when he got so tall, as she would have to crane her neck up to look at him. She decided to stare at the knot of his tie that was peeking out from his gray jumper.

Marlene started humming, and they started off clumsily, but it was fine.

“So, um, bad time to tell you Evans,” James started, glancing down at their first. “I’m bloody rubbish at dancing.”

He stepped on her foot and punched him in the arm.

~~~

The third time they danced, Lily realized she was in bloody love with the bloke.

Seventh year had brought a lot of surprises to Lily, including James as the head boy. It seemed since he walked into the prefect compartment on the very first day on the train, he was all she could think about.

But they were just friends, she reminded herself every time he would playfully knock her shoulder during patrols, or stay up past midnight talking.

When Petunia’s wedding invitation arrived at breakfast, Lily didn’t want to go, but an accompanying letter from her mother confirmed that Lily had no choice in the matter, but she could bring a date.

When she asked James to go, her palms were sweating and her heart was jumping in her throat, but he had said yes, like it wasn’t a big deal.

Petunia's wedding was on New Year’s eve, going into the new year. Lily had been in a bad mood as a result of her family bossing her around to get the wedding all ready.

But when James arrived, everything seemed to change for Lily. He was dressed in nice muggle clothes and Lily could tell that he had tried to manage his hair. She hugged him tightly.

He charmed her whole family in minutes, besides Petunia. Whether because he was a freak like Lily or because he had brown skin, Petunia glared at him constantly, her mouth pinched in a sour expression.

Lily wanted to apologise for even bringing him into the situation but he wouldn’t hear of it. She instead, grabbing his hand, lacing her fingers with his, and didn’t let go of it once.

During the ceremony, Lily could only focus on James’s hand in hers. He had always been fidgety, normally bouncing his leg, up and down, but he instead used Lily’s hand. Either drawing circles on the back of her hand with his thumb or just playing with her fingers. Lily didn’t mind it one bit and she realized that she let him do it forever.

At the reception, Petunia and Vernon cut the cake before quickly going to their first dance. James leaned over from his spot next to her.

“I thought Muggles smashed the cake into each other’s faces,” he whispered. Lily nodded.

“Yeah, sometimes, but I highly doubt Petunia would go for that. Especially with how much her dress cost,” Lily replied. James pouted a little.

“I came to see cake smashing,” he said. “I was going to write a whole paper on it for Muggle Studies.”

Lily laughed, causing a few people to give her some nastly looks because Petunia and Vernon were still doing their dance.

“I’ll gladly smash some cake in your face,” she said. James squeezed her hand.

“Save it for the wedding, Lils,” he whispered.

If Lily’s heart could have leaped out of her chest, it would have in that moment.

When James pulled out to the dance floor, she knew that she was in trouble, especially when a slow dance came on. She couldn’t help herself as she got closer to him, their bodies touching.

“I don’t want to step on your feet,” he said, his hazel eyes sparkling as he looked down at her.

“I don’t care, James,” she replied. “I wore closed toe shoes for a reason.”

He chuckled, Lily feeling his chest move.

“Sorry I’m a horrid dancer,” he replied. “I practiced with Mum yesterday and I about broke her toes.”

“You practiced with your Mum?” Lily asked, feeling like the whole world stopped.

“Yeah,” he replied. “I didn’t want to make you look like a bloody fool out here.”

She loved him, every doubt leaving her body. She stopped their lazy swaying and pulled away to look up at him, smiling like a fool. James, who had no idea what Lily was thinking, smiled a little confused.

“Evans?” he asked. “Everything alright?”

“I bloody love you,” she replied. His eyes widened for a second, but they quickly closed as Lily pulled him into the best kiss of both of their lives.

~~~

James’s hands were sweating profusely the next time they danced.

Their small little cottage in the village of Godric’s Hollow was slowly becoming more like home to them, despite the random boxes that still linger two weeks after they moved in together.

It had been a learning experience for both of them, despite the fact that they practically stayed with each other every night since they graduated Hogwarts some six months ago.

Lily was a bit messy, rivaling James’s need for clear space. Lily walked through the house on light feet, but James seemed to make as much noise as possible, despite his efforts to be quieter. But all in all, they were happy and adjusting to each other.

James did a once over of their house again, making sure things were in place. He used his mirror to talk to Sirius and Remus, basically nervously rambling until Remus looked James in the eye and told him he needed to calm down.

But when the fireplace turned bright green, James quickly stuffed the mirror under the couch cushions and waited for Lily to emerge.

He smiled widely at her when she stepped through. Her robes were covered in stains and she had a smear of something on her face. She immediately sat her bag down and started taking off her robes.

“You would not believe what happened today!” she said, barely looking at James, who was smiling like a fool.

“Was it that Cormic fellow?” James asked. Lily gave him a look, expressing her exasperation.

“I have no idea how he even got this internship!” she said, her robes finding the ground. “He tried to put mercury in a pepper up potion. Literal poison James!”

Lily stepped forward, hugging James tightly. He squeezed her.

“And when I put a gram of extra valerian root to increase the time of a pain relief potion, I have to write a whole report to justify it so I don’t get fired. I’m sick of it!”

“It’s absolutely not fair love,” James replied as Lily buried her face into his chest. He ran a hand through her hair. “Why don’t you go unwind in a bath, and I’ll take care of dinner, yeah?”

Lily nodded against his chest. Once she was up the stairs, it was go time.

James quickly went to the kitchen, and lifted the spells that were keeping the smell contained. He knew if Lily smelled his Mum’s special curry when she first got home, she would be suspicious. The treacle tarts, Lily’s favorite, were kept warm in the oven.

James quietly transformed their living room, dimming the lighting and starting their fireplace instead. He turned their coffee table into a dining room table, and shrunk the couch, placing it on the mantle for it to return to its normal size later.

Lily was never long for baths, as she hated getting pruney, but he was adjusting the candles on the table when Lily descended down the stairs.

“James?” she asked, causing him to jump. Lily was standing on the bottom step, nothing but her dressing gown on, which was tied tightly around her waist.

James felt a lump in his throat as he took her in. She was so gorgeous and even though James had explored every part of her body, he still felt giddy.

“I thought a romantic evening would be nice,” he said, gesturing around. Lily smiled.

James went to the stairs and offered her his arm.

“What is on the menu tonight?” Lily asked, leaning her head on his shoulder for a moment.

“Euphemia’s special curry and rice, along with a treacle tart dessert,” James said.

Lily beamed at him as he pulled out her chair.

It wasn’t until the plates were empty and her dad’s old record player was playing an Elton John record.

Just as Your Song by Elton John started, James finally mustered up the courage to start speaking.

“It’s weird how we’ve been together for less than a year,” James said. Lily hummed in question.

“Why?” she asked, snuggling up to his chest as they swayed back and forth.

“It feels like we’ve been together forever,” he said. Lily thought quietly for a second.

“Yeah, I feel that way too,” she said. “It’s weird. How we went from barely standing each other to missing you every second we’re apart.”

“Still can’t believe we thought we could live apart,” he said. Lily laughed again.

“Won’t happen ever again, that I’m sure of,” she said. James' heart fluttered happily and the weight of the ring in his pocket seemed a thousand times lighter.

“Living together forever, then?” he asked softly.

“I plan on it,” she said, confidently.

James released her. She looked up with questions in her eyes, but they quickly got the answers as James got on one knee.

“I plan on forever too,” he said, looking at Lily who’s eyes were filled with tears. “We’re not even 19 yet, but Merlin Lily, I can’t wait. I can’t wait to start the rest of our lives together. I just know that you are the only person for me.”

He pulled the ring out of his pocket. It was a family one, but one that his mother had brought from her own family in India. Euphemia had insisted that this was the right for Lily. It was a simple opal ring, with an intricate band.

“Will you marry me?” he asked.

Lily nodded, words failing her. She practically tackled him to the ground with kisses.

~~~

Lily’s eyes opened up. She couldn’t identify the source of what woke her up, but as she turned over on her other side, there was no James besides her. It took a second before she heard the creak in the floorboard, coming from Harry’s room.

She got up, knowing that Harry normally slept through the night with no problem at his age of a year and a half. The last time he woke up in the middle of the night, he was sick. Lily slipped on her slippers and walked down the hallway.

Standing in front of the window was James’s silhouette, swaying back and forth. She could see Harry on his hip.

“You just wanted someone to cuddle, did you Harry?” she heard James whisper. Lily smiled widely.

James started humming as he rocked Harry back and forth. He pressed kisses to the top of Harry’s head.

Lily stepped forward, the wood creaking beneath her. James turned around.

“Did we wake you?” James whispered to her as she crossed the room to him.

“Probably,” she whispered, a smile on her lips. “But it’s fine.”

She wrapped her arms around the side of James that wasn’t holding Harry. She rested her head against his chest, coming face to face with wide green eyes. She joined in on their swaying.

“Hi Harry,” she whispered, taking the hand that wasn’t wrapped around James to pat Harry’s back. His eyes started to flutter close.

“He really just wanted to snuggle, huh?” she asked.

She felt James chuckled.

“And dance with us,” he said.

#James Potter/Lily Evans #James Potter #Lily Evans Potter #Lily Evans #Harry Potter #Marauders #marauders era #dancing #fluff #no voldemort because I said so #inspired by taylor swift like always #jily

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steve-rogers-ruined-men-for-me · 3 years

Text

Teach Me

Summary: Bucky’s worried about you overworking yourself at your teaching job.

Warnings: some swearing, cute couple shit

Words: 2014k

A/N: this is my first full fic! I’ve really missed writing just for fun and I have a few more fic ideas and hc ideas in the works! please please please comment and let me know what you think!

No matter what, you always came to bed when Bucky did. Sometimes you stayed up on your phone or reading but you always at least sat on the bed with him. He knew that you had a big week coming up, with your principal coming to observe you, midterms drawing closer, and your students struggling with the new curriculum the district was imposing.

You were a high school English teacher and Bucky had met you when your school had put on an assembly about the history of the Avengers. He had noticed you in the back of the auditorium, wearing a soft blue dress and encouraging your students to ask him questions about his prosthetic. He shyly asked Tony to see if he could contact the school later and get your number. He had rolled his eyes at him and had walked up to you and asked in plain English, “The Manchurian Candidate over there wants to take you to dinner. If I set up the reservation and promise to make him show up, will you go?” Your jaw had dropped and you had numbly agreed. James Buchanan Barnes wanted to go on a date with you? Despite your doubts regarding the reality of the situation, you showed up outside the quiet Italian restaurant and the rest was history.

Bucky smiled at the memory of you dressed in a red silk jumpsuit with your hair braided back. You looked like a modern version of the girls he flirted with during the forties. Only, back then, he had been wondering how to get up their skirts but now he was more concerned with taking his time getting the jumpsuit off your gorgeous body. He felt a twitch between his legs and, smirking, shook the feeling off. He padded down to the kitchen, thinking you had gotten hungry. When that search yielded no you, he wandered through the rest of the downstairs. He noted that your car hadn’t left the driveway and checked the calendar on the fridge to see if he had the opening shift at the mechanic’s tomorrow (he mercifully did not). But he took note of how small your writing was on your to-do list for Monday.

Feeling a pang in his chest, he remembered how he had begged you to let him have your full attention on Friday and Saturday. While you’d reveled in your domestic bliss, by noon on Sunday, you had been buried in your office with your laptop, surrounded by books, papers, and highlighters. Smiling to himself, he realized where you were. He headed up to the attic loft, converted into your office. The walls were a soft gray and the couch the two of you had bought for your tiny first apartment was squeezed against one wall.

Bucky’s heart tightened as he saw you sprawled on the couch, wrapped in one of his massive flannels. Your desk light was on and the desk was messier than he’d ever seen it. Your blinking phone alerted him to the fact that you’d set an alarm for midnight, but had been so tired you’d slept through it, a given considering you were working yourself to the bone and it was two a.m. Afraid to ruin your organizational system on your desk, he returned the pens and highlighters to the little decorative cups you kept them in, saved every file you had open on your laptop before closing it, and pushed the papers in imminent danger of falling onto the floor farther back on the desk.

Content that he had lessened the burden of cleaning you’d have to do tomorrow, he crouched next to the couch. Gently smoothing a stray hair out of your face, he whispered, “baby...come on, get up, let’s go to bed.” You opened your eyes slowly and then jerked upright, sending your phone flying and Bucky scrambling backwards.

“What time is it!” you cried, frantic. You ran towards your desk, frantically pinging your phone from your Apple Watch. Your clock on your desk blinked back 2:05 a.m. at you. Bucky picked up your incessantly beeping phone and handed it to you as you slumped in your desk chair, head in your hands.

“I just wanted to get this stupid assessment plan done,” you whispered. You hugged his flannel tight around you as tears started to fall. Bucky turned your swivel chair so you were facing him as he knelt in between your legs. You dropped your upper body and rested your forehead on his shoulder as you sobbed. The weight of turning in grades, making assignments, checking in with your students to make sure they were doing okay, it was weighing on you. Bucky had noticed you sleeping less and drinking more coffee but hadn’t truly realized the toll it was taking on you. Kicking himself for making you spend time with him instead of alleviating your burdens at work, he pulled you out of the chair to sit between his legs, curling you into him and rocking gently. After a few minutes, you tilted your chin up and scooched back. Sitting criss cross between his legs, you cupped your chin and closed your eyes.

“I don’t know what to do, Buck,” you said sadly. You tugged on a loose button on your sleeve, looking like a lost puppy. Bucky knew how much you adored teaching and how much you loved your students. You were always baking treats for them when they did well on exams, buying bagels so that they could eat breakfast, and extending deadlines for the kids who worked. He knew that the American school system had changed since the 1940s and when you had shown him what you had to teach in a week and just how much time and energy went into lesson planning, he almost formed his own teachers union to advocate for you.

When he found out your dismal salary, he had to take a walk. He spent an hour with Tony railing against your pay and the administrators who punished you for the test scores of students that you had no control over. Tony sat him down after an hour of not being able to get a word in edgewise and finally pledged to harass the local school boards (and the Board of Education if they would call him back) about raising teacher salaries. Bucky had walked home to you pouring over birthday cards your sixth period juniors had given you because they’d gotten a tip that it was your birthday. (Peter helped Bucky hack your Google Classroom). He felt a wave of pride come over him as he looked at you, his selfless girl, thrilled that she was having an impact on the kids she loved the most. You getting so down on yourself broke his heart.

“What’s wrong with your assessment plan?” he asked, intertwining your hands with his. You looked up angrily. “What ISN’T wrong with it is a better question!” you cried. “The district made the test up and it’s on a fucking scantron because what fucking isn’t these days and it’s not taking into account the fact that school is not the main focus for so many of these kids that have to fucking work and help support their siblings and all they are is numbers on a fucking piece of paper that tells you nothing about the effectiveness of my teaching or the district’s ability to educate them as a whole!” Bucky blinked rapidly as you huffed. You didn’t get angry very often, but when you did and you started to monologue, he understood why you received a distinction with your English degree.

“Baby,” he started gently, “can I ask you something you may not like?” He knew that you were a planner and that the odds were you were beating yourself up about a task that had taken your coworkers thirty minutes to do. You always wanted to do right by your kids but if you didn’t start sleeping and taking care of yourself, you were useless to everyone, including yourself. You looked up at Bucky through teary eyes.

“Are you going to ask me if the plan’s done and I’m just being picky?” you asked in a small voice. Bucky stood up, taking you with him. He pressed your frame against him, putting your arms over his shoulders and resting his hands on your waist. He stayed to sway slightly, trying to lull you back to sleep and to try to help quiet your mind. “I wouldn’t say picky I just...look. I’m being selfish. I want you to come to bed with me. I want you to play with my hair and whisper that you love me when you think I’m out cold asleep,” he gushed, noting the slight blush that crept up your cheeks. “You are incredible. Your admin are literally fucking stupid, doll. Nothing you do will change that. You are trying your best and if you think that your kids won’t benefit from the 12 different plans you’ve cooked up, then you’re crazy. Your kids don’t need a version 13, baby. They need you whole, in one piece, and ready to fight for them if they need.” He kissed your forehead, trying to ease your creased brow. Giving in to his ministrations, you sighed. You thought about how this plan should’ve probably only taken an hour. But then you rewrote the plan for the week based off of if your kids took a lot of time on the test, a little time, got anxious during it, caught on fire during it, committed larceny during the test and you had to contact the police. You knew it was overkill but you also knew that budget cuts were coming, contracts were up at the end of this year, and you and Bucky were saving to buy a house instead of living in a condo forever.

“Buck?” you whispered. He lifted his chin off your head and looked down.

“Yeah, doll?”

You felt the exhaustion settle into you all at once. “Can we go to bed?”

Picking you up and putting you in a fireman’s carry, Bucky held you the whole way down to your bedroom. He pulled out a shirt of his for you to sleep in while you brushed your teeth and rinsed off in the shower. He walked in right as you were towelling off and he slipped it over your head with ease. He offered to blow dry your hair but you declined, favoring slipping into a warm sleep with him. He cuddled you close, forgoing asking you to play with his hair in favor of trying to hug all the pride he felt about you into your body via osmosis. Your head was resting soft on his chest, one arm curled protectively around his torso. His metal arm was tucked up and around your shoulders, keeping you comfortable. His flesh hand caressed your arm around him to remind you that he would always be there for you. He loved you more than anything. As your breathing evened and his hand on your side rose in gentle time with your breath, he decided that he was going to call Tony tomorrow. He knew a few people who owed him from his time as the Winter Soldier and if they didn’t want their dirty laundry exposed, dammit he was going to make someone in the district fix the stupid test until it worked how you wanted it to work. He hugged you closer to him, giving you one final squeeze before he started drifting off to sleep. He slipped into a dream where he was a professor and you a naughty schoolgirl and he had just convinced you to bend over to pick something up behind his desk when...a loud snore from you jolted him back to the reality of his exhausted teacher girlfriend wearing his baggy shirt, with hair going every which way. There was no plaid skirt here. Only love and admiration. Bucky kissed your temple and willed sleep to come again.

#buckybarnes #bucky barnes headcanons #bucky x reader #buckybarnes x reader #bucky barnes fluff

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whack-ed · 4 years

Text

It’s a lie (draco malfoy x reader)

Synopsis: Y/N had a bad reputation, everyone knew that. And apparently, Draco didn't care about it, he even managed to get some fun. Little did he know how it was going to end.

Warnings: Suggestive talks; kissing; teasing; sex tension; fluffy.

Reader: Female

Word count: 1.8k

A/N: Well, a fic based on “it’s a lie - the vamps ft. tini” cause i’m a cureless cliche teenager, thank you.

Just to remember: Y/N= Your Name; Y/L/N= Your Last Name; Y/H/C= Your Hair Color; Y/E/C= Your Eyes Color; Y/H= Your House; italic it’s for past & bold it’s for the fic theme.

Everyone knew Y/N's reputation. Everyone knew that she was not good company for any boy. None of the boys who got involved with her kept their heart intact. The list was varied, from Ernest McMillan to Michael Corner, Dean Thomas was unable to escape and some would say that she was the only one who had managed to win Blaise Zabini. And none of them had achieved the opposite effect, Y/N always seemed a step ahead of any of them. Well, until now.

At the beginning of his sixth year at Hogwarts, Draco had a million things on his mind. His father had made his life hell for the past few months, all he felt was anger. A lot of anger. He did not knew where to discount all these accumulated feelings.

"Draco, you're floating again" Pansy's voice woke the boy from his daydreams. The selection ceremony was over, but Draco hadn't paid any attention.

"Whatever" He replied with little concern.

"You are unbearable, you know? Since we got on the train you're like this. What do you have?" Blaise asked without patience to the blonde beside him.

"Why don't you mind your own business, Zabini?" Draco replied rudely.

"For merlin's sake you really need a girl, this can only be sexual stress" Blaise replied short and dry. Pansy did not like the answer.

Draco ignored the comment. Or at least he thought he had ignored it. Blaise's words, no matter how insignificant they were, stayed with Draco for the rest of the day. Classes were going on and the boy started paying attention to the girls who passed by the corridors. He never worried too much about girls, but maybe this was the right time to do that, it was a good distraction from the living hell at home. He had never noticed how many beautiful girls there were at school. Until then he did only notice Pansy, but he found she slightly irritating to try anything.

During the last class of the day, with Professor Flitwick, they shared class with Y/H. The class itself was particularly tedious, so once again Draco started to notice the female faces of the place where he was. It didn't even last 3 minutes, one face in particular caught his eye. Y/N Y/L/N. Ah that name he knew well. Like everyone at Hogwarts, Draco knew the girl's reputation. He knew that with Blaise's thing it was a lie, because well, he was close enough to know that Blaise didn't like what Y/N had to offer, if you know what I mean. And without noticing he got lost in the girl's face, he watched every detail closely, he had never seen a girl as beautiful as she was.

"Of all the girls at Hogwarts, you are interested in Y/N?" Blaise asked raising an eyebrow "Do you have a death wish or something?"

"I know who Y/N is" Draco replied without taking his eyes off the girl.

"If you knew, you would have this idea out of your head right now, Draco" Blaise said turning his attention to the parchment to write down what the professor was saying.

"Is that kind of a challenge?" Draco said with his usual tone of superiority.

"OK, now you're sounding like yourself. But I still think it's stupid, she will break you into pieces, Draco."

"Not if I prepare myself. And Blaise, no one break me into pieces."

And so it was. Since that day whenever Draco wanted to distract himself from something related to "family matters" he stared at the beautiful Y/E/C eyes of a certain Y/H. The first contact he had made with her was at dinner, the same day he had challenged Blaise. He saw the girl enter the main hall with her friends and went to her with the best smile he could.

"Hey, Y/N, right?"

"Hummm" The girl looked him up and down "Not for you" And went to sit with her friends.

Draco didn't understand anything. Was she playing hard? Or was she just not interested? No. It couldn't be. All the girls at Hogwarts were at least a little bit curious about what it was like to be with Draco Malfoy. Y/N couldn't be different, could she?

Now more than ever Draco was focused on getting Y/N interested in him. It was no longer just a challenge between two friends. Now it was a matter of honor.

So whenever he could, Draco used his best charm on Y/N.

"Leave it, I'll pay for you" He said in Hogsmade.

"You play really well, Y/N, it almost made me lose focus" He would say after a Quidditch game.

"You are almost an alchemist, you know?" He said in potions classes.

And Y/N couldn't deny that she was enjoying the attention. At first she was cold because she knew how Draco was not interested in any girl in school, and thought it could only be a bet between him and some classmate. But when she noticed that the flirting went on for another two weeks, for another month, she thought that no one could go that far with a bet. She knew he was an idiot with most people, but there was no denying it, he was the most beautiful boy of his year. Sometimes the girl thought he could be asexual, and how wrong she was.

Despite wanting to, Y/N was not going to give her arm to cheer. She wanted to see how far the boy was going. So she did, for a whole month, until the girl showed some interest. It was on a trip to Hogsmade that she finally gave some sign of an answer.

"I didn't know it was possible for you to get sweeter, but it looks like it is" Draco said as the girl took three boxes of chocolate frogs.

"It's to compensate" Y/N replied with a smile that Draco had never seen, he liked what was going on.

"Compensate for what?"

"Everything you steal from me, you really take away all my sweetness sometimes, you know"

Draco laughed sarcastically and looked at the girl with a malicious smile.

"Y/N, saying you don't want me, it's a lie, and you know it" He said approaching the girl.

Y/N now could see that Draco had a little blue in his gray eyes, he was so close. It had a very pleasant smell, a woody smell that weirdly reminded her of home. He noticed how interested the girl in front of his face was.

"Saw? A huge lie" He said getting closer.

Now it was so close that Y/N could feel the boy's breath on her face. Draco ran his hand over Y/N's face and stopped on the cheek to caress it. People around could say that Y/N was hypnotized, because the girl was completely unresponsive, she didn't take her eyes off Draco's eyes for even a minute. The boy gave another laugh, patted his cheek, walked away, and winked at Y/N and left the store. There was no denying it anymore, she wanted him.

To be honest, Draco was the only boy Y/N had really wanted since her fourth year, but as all the boys always said he was not good company and he never got involved with anyone, so she never tried anything. She drowned hers desires in other lips, that's why she ended up breaking so many hearts. But when Draco finally paid attention to her, the girl was already so into the character, that she didn't miss the chance to finally play with the famous Malfoy, right on her fingers.

The next few months went on as expected, Y/N and Draco "having fun" up and down. They kept it secret for a while, so as not to attract more attention than necessary, and of course, that little by little people started to notice. Draco was great at hiding family secrets, but he wasn't very good at hiding a girl he was fulling around with. The looks between the two during meals and classes were far from discreet. The sexual tension always exposed between the two was always explicit. Sometimes a student caught them going out from a empty classroom together. And a young ravenclaw swear he saw the two of them holding hands by the lake.

With the end of the year approaching, close to October, the students' traditional secret Halloween party in the come and go room was being prepared with the smallest details by some slytherin and gryffindor students. The party had become a tradition 4 years ago, but only sixth and seventh graders could participate. As it was in the come and go room, they didn't care about the noise, just what to bring. The organizing students always took things from the kitchen, among them, a lot of firewhisky.

"Are you going to Halloween party, Y/N?" Draco asked the girl who was fixing her shirt inside a broom closet. The two of them stopped going to empty classrooms when they we’re almost caught by Professor Snape.

"Of course, the first year we can really get in, how can we miss it?" She said smiling with the shirt already in place, although some buttons were missing.

Draco was silent. He wanted to invite Y/N to go with him, but he didn't know if they were on that level or not. How he hated not being in control of things.

"Draco?" Y/N caught his attention after the boy's face became serious and closed, something that rarely happened when he was with her. "Do you want to go?"

He never was going to deny going to a party - without teachers - where Y/N was.

"Of course, I will" He replied fixing his hair.

"We need to prepare our fantasies than, you know."

"Excuse me" Draco cleared his throat "OUR fantasies?"

Y/N laughed.

"What? Shouldn't I consider that we would be going together?"

A sense of relief washed over Draco's body as soon as the girl's words left his mouth.

"I had thought of something like, Mr. and Mrs. Dracula, I always thought you were pale as a vampire" Y/N laughed and put her arms around Draco's neck.

"We are in England, Y/N, we are all pale as vampires - The boy replied placing his hands on the girl's waist. "And by the way, who said I want to go with you?" Joked, the boy.

Their faces were very close. Smiling face to face. Dangerously close.

"Draco, saying you don't want me, it’s a lie."

Draco laughed and didn't wait another minute before kissing the girl in front of him. He had managed to win over the girl that everyone thought was unconquerable. But the truth is, he was so blinded by love as she, and of course, neither of them was going to admit that anytime soon. But honestly, It didn't even need to say anything, they both knew it had gone too far, and the both couldn't be happier that they let it happen.

#draco malfoy #draco malfoy imagine #draco malfoy smut #draco malfoy fic #draco malfoy x reader #Harry Potter #harry potter imagine #harry potter fiction #harry potter fanfiction #fanfiction #imagine #malfoy #slytherin #x reader #smut #teasing #fluffy

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unfortunatelysirius · 4 years

Text

Wicked Charm, What’s Your Patronus? | Remus Lupin, Marauders Era

「 ❁ 」PROMPT 「 ❁ 」

One day in Defense, Professor Boomstick offers whoever can produce a corporeal Patronus an Outstanding on the next essay as well as an out on a test. When Y/N shockingly produces a wolf Patronus, well… you can assume the rest.

「 ❁ 」AUTHOR’S NOTE 「 ❁ 」

Why did I name a guy Boomstick? Because that word is fucking hilarious to me THAT’S WHY (also this sucks ass but tbh I'm just going with the flow nowadays whatever comes out comes the f out whether it’s shit or not) and for anyone who wants to get technical, believe me i already know what u will say

DEFENSE WAS Y/N L/N’S last class of every Friday and as of late, the only class she fervently dreaded. It was a mix of students from different Houses but dominated by Gryffindors. Three of the infamous sixth-year Gryffindor circle, James Potter, Sirius Black, and Remus Lupin, were in there, each of the blokes gifted with a wand. Y/N didn’t pay them much mind at the start of the year but after a few months of mingling and getting to know her classmates, she had developed somewhat of an acquaintanceship with the boys, perhaps even a friendship. She was one of the other few Gryffindors in the room and after she particularly chewed out one of the Ravenclaws feet from the classroom for ruining her perfect attendance record (allegedly, the clumsy arse caused her a three-day sentence in the Hospital Wing) James and Sirius decided she had enough style and substance (“Marauder flair,” they called it) to invite her into their gang.

It was as unenticing on the inside as it was from a feet-on-the-ground outsider’s perspective. Y/N wasn’t very adventurous. She was miles away from Lily’s singlehanded definition of “studious”, but still a pretty mellow person, preferring to keep to predetermined routes and undetected on radars. She was an extrovert with introverted tendencies, mostly appearing at times with people who differed in lifestyle. Like James and Sirius, two peas in a pod.

Remus Lupin was much less of a firecracker inches from popping, his voice tampered and quiet, his disposition ripe with premature wisdom. Y/N found him likeable. Almost too likable—a noticeable kind of fancy that only prats would fail to see. Then that fancy became more; she didn’t remember how.

This was open to judgment from the gods, who could choose to interfere or leave Y/N’s recent change of heart alone.

Unfortunately for her with this newfound friendship and growing fancy, James and Sirius had enough arrogance to fit the Greek gods from ancient myth…

Zeus and Poseidon, at least. Maybe even Aphrodite, the bloody matchmakers.

Professor Boomstick, a stout, ashen man who oftentimes went into tangents about how the Muggle Army was a lousy old group of incompetent twats, liked challenges. He liked challenges for his students, specifically. He also liked favoritism and had yet to liken any students to his old pub buddies. Today Y/N and the Marauders all went to class expecting a test, but Professor Boomstick was already there waiting—and the room was empty of desks. Y/N stopped in her tracks, feeling Remus’s tall, lean frame smack into her backside. He apologized but she ignored him, sweeping her gaze across the floor. A group of students who found themselves there before her were huddling in a corner, nervous as sheep waiting to be sheered.

Y/N’s steps held an edge... She couldn’t deny she herself was nervous.

“Damn the test,” Professor Boomstick barked suddenly, catching Y/N’s bewildered eyes and holding them hostage. She swallowed hard. Surprises were not fun to her; she hated them with a passion. This old fart was just an arse to be incorporating one in place of a test on the history of Patronuses and Animagi she spent eons studying for. “We’ll see what you’re made of today without wasting parchment, can’t read your writin’ anyhow.”

“What exactly are we doing?” a long-faced, petite-nosed girl asked.

Professor Boomstick raised his wand and closed the door behind Y/N and the Marauders, throwing them further into the room. Y/N felt Remus’s arm brush her side and heat enveloped her from head to stomach. Glaring at Professor Boomstick, they all walked to stand with the other students, keeping a close eye on the crazy man they all called their teacher. Thank Merlin Defense professors never lasted.

“For any of you kids that can produce me a corporeal Patronus, I won’t just give ye bonus,” Professor Boomstick said, smirking at the huddle of students. “Ya got an essay due two weeks time on endangered species of the Wizarding World and that test we had scheduled today’s rescheduled for Monday. I’ll give any of ya who give me what I want a freebie on the quiz—and an automatic Outstanding on the essay. Still gotta turn three pages in though.”

The huddle of students struck up an excited exchange of whispers before going abruptly silent. Patronuses? That was hard-level shit and sparingly learned outside of class lessons due to its difficulty. Disappointment shuttered down the spines of each student, one at a time, as they all came to the same conclusion: this was a waste of time.

“What? None of ya have even tried?” Professor Boomstick demanded, bushy white eyebrows furrowing in the middle of his forehead. “May be a charm, but it could save yer life someday. All it takes is one loose Dementor and BOOM! Your soul’s been sucked right outta ya.”

Everyone flinched, some horrified at the sheer mention of Dementors. Professor Boomstick was right. No one really knew Patronuses and their uses. Advanced magic like that was too extensive, too dueling of a task.

Professor Boomstick was getting frustrated and impatient, glaring at each student individually. Crazy old man.

Y/N L/N nervously glanced at her classmates, mostly the marauding group of boys she befriended, before she stepped out of the huddle. All eyes automatically went to her.

James and Sirius were (in their opinion, rightfully) shocked she had this information under her belt the entire time—sitting on it, dwelling on it, never admitting to it where her friends were concerned. The two of them didn’t have any concept of privacy, both too invasive to be capable of secrets; Remus was nowhere near similar. Secrets were a part of his nature, only for the benefit of others and never his. If anyone could understand Y/N’s need to keep something like this close to her chest, it was Remus. Though, this wasn’t much of a secret. They all knew Y/N’s history and domestic life.

Remus glanced at her, an unreadable expression on his face, but her back was turned to him. She could feel everyone looking at her and picking out a single pair of eyes was too strenuous a task.

“Get on with it, L/N,” Professor Boomstick demanded.

“Okay, sir,” Y/N said. She would have never dared do this, but she was drowning in coursework from her other classes—any further work and she’d lose sleep, her grades suffering for it. Her mouth opened, inhaling a deep breath she braced.

Patronus charms were a complicated, beautiful species of magic. Arduous and dogging, it took someone particularly skilled to produce one—and you had to conjure one of your best memories, one of pure joy and exhilaration. Not just happiness, as one of Y/N’s old mentors incorrectly told her once upon a time. Y/N came from a family always preparing for the worst and through the years as the likelihood of a war reached its peak, her parents grew increasingly paranoid and enrolled her in a summer mentorship program as a precaution. She learned the Patronus charm from an eccentric man named Ellis Hawking.

Y/N’s happiest memory, the one that gave her pure, unadulterated joy, was when she was twelve and got to see her new baby sister.

“Expecto Patronum,” Y/N said when an incandescent smile reached her lips. All concentration went into her wand when she pointed. Her wand felt like it thrummed under her fingertips and she targeted the air just north of herself, where no one was in her line of sight.

Everyone behind her gasped when a shot of pure light emitted from her wand’s end, something growing larger as it left. Tendrils of silver and white swept the floor, coiling to become a translucent shape. The shape growled noiselessly, galloping on the ground like a wolf. It was a wolf. Majestic and sleek, making a turn to come running back at the caster herself—polarizing white eyes staring right into hers. Ears pinned back and slivers of silver hair standing on edge. All until it disappeared into the same device that made it. Creation and destruction, two separate words that meant the same: an inevitable, unavoidable cycle.

Y/N’s Patronus was last a dolphin when she first learned how to cast, not a wolf.

Her Patronus had changed.

“Bravo, bloody Hell—bravo, girl!” Professor Boomstick clapped enthusiastically. “For sure you’re gettin’ in my good graces rest of this here year. You’ve gotta be one hell of a witch casting a corporeal Patronus at sixteen! Bloody—”

Y/N stared down at her wand, completely bewildered.

Why did it change?

James glanced over at Sirius while Y/N was distracted, a grin breaking his shocked composure. Neither he, Sirius, or Remus expected that; while Remus was busy frozen and possibly panicking himself into early gray hairs, James was bursting on the inside from excitement. Sirius shared a similar expression.

“Looks like little Y/N’s in love with Moony,” he hissed under his breath, failing to lose his grin. “That’s gotta be it. I’ve read on this before.”

Sirius nodded, a faux solemnness combatting the electric shock darting around like butterflies on his face. “After General Prat’s done,” he said, and the two nodded like soldiers heading to war.

When no one other than Y/N could even produce an incorporeal Patronus, Professor Boomstick disappointedly released them—promising a nervous Y/N not to worry about the test or upcoming essay. James and Sirius automatically attacked at the last nameless student’s retreat, Remus trailing his two mates like a left-behind dog.

Sirius’s eyes zeroed in on Y/N’s wrist, where a charm bracelet dangled. It was covered in expensive-looking charms, one of engraved letters, a wand, a little wolf.

Whoa, cauldron’s bearings. There was a bloody wolf charm! What were the odds?

“Wicked charm,” Sirius said through a wink. Y/N’s eyes flickered between the two blokes then at her charm bracelet, not at all soothed in their presence. Still struggling to understand why her Patronus would be different, the two twats harassing her wasn’t desirable—especially since they looked like they did while meddling. Pranking. Causing mischief. Y/N made it clear ages ago she wouldn’t react kindly if they decided to fuck around with her the way they did with the rest of the Hogwarts student body. She liked her comfort bubble how it was, unperforated by buffoons best left six feet away. “Wolves. Did you get it to match your Patronus?”

Y/N bit her lip. “Well, actually—"

“Ah, Padfoot, obviously that wouldn’t be the case,” James said, slinging an arm around his mate’s shoulder. “She got it because it makes her think of a certain someone.”

“Who would I even think of? You guys are such prats,” Y/N said indignantly, narrowing her eyes now. Seriously, what were they getting at? They didn’t know anything, just perfectly well how drive anyone and everyone up the bloody wall. They’d drive a sane man mad!

“James, Sirius, don’t,” Remus said softly, appearing from behind. His eyes were wide with alarm, meeting Y/N’s at her sharp twist. He gulped at the annoyance in hers; James and Sirius had already done their damage. Idiots, they were.

“See, Y/N, I don’t think your Patronus has always been a wolf,” Sirius went on, pretending like neither Y/N nor Remus spoke in the first place. “Am I wrong?”

Y/N warily said, “No…”

“Did you know Patronuses can change to be complementary of their lovers’?” Sirius grinned obnoxiously. He shrugged his shoulders and nudged Y/N with one of his hands. “Just a thought. Maybe you fancy somebody, love ‘em.”

Y/N’s eyes widened and involuntarily, they looked at where Remus was standing. Remus froze again.

“We’ll leave you to it,” James said hastily, still grinning.

The bespectacled boy quickly lassoed Sirius around the neck and guided him to the door, calling to Remus that they’d be back in their dorm by the time he finished.

Remus awkwardly glanced over at Professor Boomstick. The man was just standing by his desk, drinking out of a flask, presumably waiting for his next class. Y/N sighed and unconsciously laced her fingers into Remus’s, dragging him away from their crazy-ass professor.

Once outside, Y/N faced Remus. “Is your Patronus a wolf?” she asked quietly, hurriedly. She didn’t want anyone to overhear, though the only likely soul left in distance was Peeves.

Remus looked at the ground. “Yes,” he reluctantly told her. He and the Marauders had yet to let her in on his furry little secret.

“Oh,” Y/N said and went silent. It’s not that she didn’t want to be in love with Remus, she just didn’t understand why she could have been so stupid to cast her Patronus in front of the entire class without contemplating her feelings for Remus first. Especially with prior knowledge that a wolf Patronus implied the chance of the charm caster being a werewolf. Students from the class would be beside themselves with rumors of Y/N being a werewolf herself.

As long as it wasn’t Remus being investigated.

“I’m sorry,” he said quietly, peeking up at her.

Y/N rolled her eyes. “Remus, why are you apologizing? Because of what animal the charm was? I’m not a bloody idiot. I know. Good thing I’m the caster, no one else, right?”

“Why would you like me, let alone love me?” Remus asked. “I don’t understand. I’m—”

“No, don’t even say it,” Y/N said, meeting his gaze. She reached forward and held his shoulders. “You’re handsome, funny, and intelligent. The least mad of any bloke I’ve seen. That’s all that matters to me.”

The heels of her feet lifted off the ground so she could peck his cheek. Remus flushed red and flinched back, not having expected any sort of affection—but Y/N deliberately ignored his confusion. She snorted and turned to leave.

Remus stood processing the unlikely events.

Y/N didn’t hear corresponding footsteps and stopped walking herself. “I hope you at least somewhat like me,” she said over her shoulder. “Else, that’d be one bloody embarrassing confession.”

Oh.

Remus’s shoes squeaked when he jogged to catch up. With his cheeks still aflame, Y/N hoped that meant he did, in fact, reciprocate.

I might need to do something about everyone seeing my Patronus, Y/N thought. Stupid Hogwarts and its plethora of assholes waiting for worthy gossip.

She was sure James and Sirius wouldn’t mind Obliviating the entire school for her and Remus. The idiots did supposedly do anything for their friends.

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cedricslover · 3 years

Text

Troubled

Pairing: Cedric x fem! reader

Pt.1 Pt.2 Pt.3 Pt.4 Pt.5 Pt.6 (Final)

Series summary: A very unfortunate situation happened and it resulted in very unfortunate events. You had everything, a good boyfriend that everyone dreamed of, best friends that you got in a twin pack, and a loving school. It was a calm before a storm and in your sixth year the storm came. You faced the consequences your deceased parents run from, you were only left with your only family, your little brother. What would you do in order to save him? The answer is, everything, even if it means joining a terrorist group of wizards, joining THE DEATH EATERS...

Chapter summary: School already started, the triwizard tournament and everything. Your boyfriend Cedric Diggory was the champion of your school, you didn’t want to be a burden for him therefore you never told him what was bothering you. The damn dark mark.

Note: there is no specific house so enjoy:))) i can make requests if y’all have one Warnings: SMUT, sad, frustration, idrk sorry... oh but there is fluff, i guess

Word count: 2.3k

“Hey” someone called you from the back, but before you can even take a sight of who it was, a warm kiss was planted on your cheek while an arm wrapped around your waist. You chuckled and grabbed his face for a nice short kiss.

“Ced, what do you think?” You asked while smiling and turned to him who was now sitting beside you and continued your homework. Your brows furrowed and your lips became a straight line. You grabbed the parchment and looked at him.

“I thought we agreed on not doing each other’s personal work unless they asked for help?” You said, disappointment and anger was heard from your voice. “I know- I know, but love, the thing is-” you interrupted Cedric and stood up. “You told me that you don’t want me to help you before because you can handle it. I told you I don’t want other’s help unless I asked, because I will think of it as a way of you looking down on me. Ced, this is just an alchemy homework, do you think I’m dumb to even answer this?” you’re trying your best to not shout since you two are at the library.

“Love, of course not. But, I heard the professors, Snape and McGonagall. They said that it’s almost a matter of time before you fail your classes and-” you interrupted Cedric again “Then let me fail” you declared and removed Cedric’s hand that was holding your arm and walked away.

You headed straight to your common room with that annoying disappointed feeling. You hated this feeling every time, you just had enough of it.

You stood in front of the mirror in your dorm and observed every single inch of yourself. Except for your arm. You slowly removed your tie, emptied your robes, and changed into your casual clothes. You were about to go out when you looked at what you were wearing, it didn’t cover your arms that made your heart drop. You bite your lip and sighed, trying the best not to let out a tear.

Once again, you were so desperate, you got an eraser and started rubbing it in your forearm, you felt the heat from the friction but you never cared, you aggressively rubbed it, again and again until that part of your forearm turned red but the thing that you wanted to be gone was still there. Your breathing was heavy and you looked at yourself in the mirror once again. You were unconsciously crying, it was out of frustration. You tried everything, even the thing that your muggle-born friend gave you, they call it concealer, still nothing. You searched every spell and even managed to sneak in the restricted section, but it was still nothing.

You can’t make that damn dark mark disappear.

“Good morning lady” two voices filled your ears. “Morning, twins” You greeted the Weasley twins back with a gloomy voice, not the sarcastic or energetic one that they got used to. They were your bestfriends since your first year, you knew them through and through and they also knew you through and through or so they thought.

“Is something wrong?” George asked and blocked your way, you looked at him and just shook your head. “Are you sure?” Fred was now the one asking you, two of them blocking and towering you. You closed your eyes for a moment, took a deep breath, and opened them again. You raised one of your eyebrows and said sarcastically “Oh no, I’m not bloody fine, I should tell my bestfriends right away” you acted very devastated that made the twins look at each other. “If I’m not fine I should've told the both of you right away” you answered like it was very obvious. “Gits” you muttered under your breath that made the twins’ faces light up, you managed to convince them that everything was fine, that you are fine.

“How about we go to honeydukes on weekend? What do' ya think?” Fred asked the both of you while you were headed to your class. “Everything's on you?” I asked, that made him laugh. “No, of course not. I did not have a twin for nothing. Right Georgie?” he looked at George who was beside you, he chuckled and raised both of his hands acting like he was surrendering. “All right, fine, everything's on us. Besides, we got plenty from selling our products, eh Freddie?” George answered and both of them high fived each other while you just laughed while shaking your head.

You missed this feeling, a very carefree moment with the twins. After everything that has happened, Sirius Black and the dementors, it was seriously a mess.

You and Cedric haven’t talked yet, after what happened yesterday. The truth is it's not because you never wanted his help, you wanted it very much because right now, you needed him more than ever. But with the whole triwizard tournament clouding his head, you don’t want to be a burden for him, he was already too much for you to deserve yet he was still there.

“Y/n” a manly voice called your name from behind as you walk towards your next class. You didn’t have to turn around to find out who it is, you already know. A warm hand has touched your wrist and slowly walked in front of you.

“Can we please talk?” Cedric asked, you looked at his face and noticed the dark circles under his eyes and his hair was now messy, very different from his very clean hairstyle. He was a hot mess. You said nothing, you can’t word out how you felt, you were so guilty, you started blaming yourself because these past few days the two of you didn’t talk much, a supposed to be a nice talk will just turn into an argument. You shook your thoughts away and started walking, you were now dragging Cedric by the hand.

“Pine fresh” you said the password for the prefects’ bathroom, it opened up and you dragged Cedric to the further corner that even the portrait of the siren mermaid won’t notice the both of you. “What is it that you can keep after giving it to someone else?” You read the riddle in the door, after a few seconds of thinking you answered “Your word” and the door opened.

You still held Cedric’s hand tightly as you roamed your eyes, it was just a small room. No one ever knew this room hidden in the prefects’ bathroom, it has no definite password, just like the Ravenclaw’s common room you have to answer a riddle before you can enter. There’s not much in that room, only a four seater sofa, small table, a hanging cabinet and a fireplace. All the things here were vintage and the first time you discovered this was when you saw Cedric enter here in the Marauders map.

You sat in the sofa while Cedric leaned in the table, he knew you wanted space while talking to each other.

"I-" "Look-" You both started talking the same time that made you two look at each other.

Stared. You both just stared at each other for a minute until Cedric opened his manly arms, inviting you to a hug, you smiled, stood up and walked up to him.

You heard his heartbeat while leaning to his chest, it was in sync with yours. "Ced, I'm really sorry. I just really didn't want to be burden for you. With all these triwizard thing I just don't want to add to your plate" you said and tightened your wrap on his waist.

"You will never be a burden to me love, never" he answered that made you look up to his face, those gray eyes that can melt your soul.

"Of course, I'm an angel, why would I be a burden? That's so silly of me to think I'm a burden for a guy that literally asked me out" you teased that made the both of you laugh.

You just looked at each other's eyes, deeply, deeply, and the next thing you knew your arms were wrapped in his neck, you were tiptoeing while he crouched to reach your face. His hands were sliding back and forth from your waist to your hips while you were pressing your body to his.

Your kisses went deeper and deeper. He picked you up from your waist and made you sat in that simple wooden table he was leaning to earlier. You felt that raging hotness and craving for him and he was too. He was also wanting you.

Without breaking your kiss you wrapped your arms and legs to him, he walked to the sofa and laid you there.

He kissed your neck, slowly, while his hand roamed your thighs, you felt his soft but also rough hand due to the callouses.

"Shit" you let out a breathy moan as he hit that spot in your nape. He smirked and continued exploring your body. You started kissing again, it was aggressive this time, your tongues swirled each others', you can't get enough of this sensation even from the first time.

Your hands traced his back while you two continued to press each others lips, his soft lips you loved. You were too turned on that you bit his lip. He chuckled between your kisses as his hands started massaging your breasts.

"Do you want to?" He whispered in your ear as you kissed his neck.

You pulled away and nodded. He was about to kiss you again when you stood up.

"How about we do it with our uniforms on?" You asked teasingly as you sat on his lap. "Someone wants to try something huh?" He answered you and tucked your hair to the back of your ear. You nodded despite the different reason.

You don't want him to see it.

"All right then, your wish is my command" he replied and you grabbed his hufflepuff tie to seal a kiss. You were messing his hair while he was just there, opening a few buttons of your shirt for him to have access to your breast.

"Oh my, Ced" you moaned as he sucked your nipple while his one hand was caressing the other nipple. You started rubbing in, you can feel your underwear getting wet, but you can also feel his cock hardening. You rode, back and forth, rubbing your pussy to his cock while he sucked your boobs, and honestly, you would never get tired of this, of him.

You two were pressing each others lips again when you suddenly felt a hand was rubbing your clitoris,

"Your moan is something I can listen to everyday" he whispered again to your ears that made you more horny, his breath made you shiver, his hand in your clitoris was really giving it all.

"Put. It." You ordered when you can't take it anymore, you wanted him inside you. Now. "Calm down baby" he said as he slowly kissed your lips and just right after he licked his middle finger that he used to play with your clit. He loves seeing you wanting him so bad, he wants you too, so so bad.

"Bloody fuck!" You shouted as he entered you from behind, "I'm sorry!" Cedric panicked and was about to remove his dick from your inside but you said "Continue please…" with a breathy moan.

It was your idea, you didn't want to sit anymore, you wanted him to fuck you while you faced the wall.

The sound of your butt hitting his body made you feel something more, you wanted more. That sound of clapping did it, you were so turned on, so horny.

Cedric's hand was supporting you by holding your waist, while your hands were at the wall.

"Fuck! fuck!" Cedric moaned breathily while thrusting inside you. You can feel him inside you, it was like a fuel to a torch.

"I'm coming love!" You shouted when his thrust went rougher, "Me too, I'm taking it out alright?" He answered while squeezing your butt cheek, you nodded and you felt he let it out.

You expected dripping heat to your legs but what surprised you was Cedric's tongue swirling around your opening.

"Y/n…" he moaned as he explored your pussy, licking all that orgasm that made your eyes roll upward and after that you just looked down to be greeted by his gaze, enjoying your turned on face on your uniform.

"Make it quick Ced, my legs are losing its energy" you said while feeling your legs weakening from earlier round. Right after you said that, Cedric inserted his middle finger inside you, up and down it goes, and minutes later another orgasm was down to Cedric's throat.

Both of you never realized how long you made love inside that secret room with your uniforms on, but it was hella good.

"I love you, so much" Cedric whispered during your kiss, but this time it was pure, innocent, and full of love. "I love you more" you replied as you two ended the kiss.

You both leaned your forehead to each other while you closed your eyes. Both of you were panting.

“Dragons, that’s the first task” you said and sat beside Cedric at charms class. He looked around trying to be cautious if someone heard you. “What do you mean?” he asked you while you arranged your books.

You tucked some of your hair that was in your face behind your ear and stated “Ron told me earlier, it seems like everyone knows it already. I mean Harry, Fleur, and Viktor.” and you saw his confused face.

“Are you serious?” he wanted to make sure, dragons are not a joke, but also this triwizard tournament too. “Deadly” you declared and took a deep breath, now you have many things occupying your mind and it felt so overwhelming.

You felt Cedric’s hand wrapped yours beneath the table. “Everything’s going to be fine, don’t worry” he whispered and smiled sweetly to you. He must have noticed your troubled face.

And you wished, you wished that everything’s going to be fine but deep down you knew, it won't be.

You wanted to tell him everything, every single thought, but you can’t and you chose not to, even with the urge telling him all you just smiled at him and replied “I hope so”.

#cedric diggory x reader #cedric diggory smut #cedric diggory series #death eaters #cedric diggory #triwizard champions #triwizard tournament

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soranihimawari · 3 years

Text

Bella Donnas & Love

This is the final installment of the Hanahaki Disease AU featuring the Seijoh Four. This is a Mattsukawa Issei x Yin (YN/Reader) story.

Word Count: 4.3 K

Warnings: mentions of depression, suicidal attempts, mentions of burn out, and intrusive thoughts

Recommended Audience: 17+ (minors recommended to not read because of the warnings attached)

Pairing: Mattsukawa Issei x reader// MIA->MIF [Mattsukawa Issei angst to Mattsukawa Isei fluff]

Mattsukawa Issei is a simple man. He sees the world in copious amounts of black, white, and gray; it isn’t because he is colorblind either. It is because he knows his worth. Truthfully, his parental figures were always a bit worried about their son especially given the profession he has chosen to pursue. Being in the business of burning and or burying the dead, Mattsukawa Issei is a fan of the loneliest times in a lifetime: they say when we are brought into the world, we are alone, and when we pass on, we too exit the world alone. There is nothing wrong with finding a job in the business of death, but even angels have demons. And for Mattsukawa, you are an exquisite example of the dichotomy between his dark side and your eventual akin to the brighter side.

It is a known fact in Japan, the pressure to be perfect or to fit into the mold of society has been a fatal flaw throughout the years. This is the main reason why at exactly two fifty-five in the morning, Mattsukawa Issei notices a young person, hanging out on the edge of the skyscraper across his workplace. There was a late night arrival to the city morgue; he just needed to be there to sign the paperwork to turn over the embalming processes to his mentors. It was the deceased wishes to be buried in the mausoleum in the home town of their forefathers: the mountain side of Nagasaki.

You were having a rough day: you were told you by your employers that you’ve been slacking for too long getting numbers for the statistics presentation coming up with business partners across the South China Sea. Then your grandparent were strictly feeding toxic lies to your parent(s) about how you would never find a suitable partner to marry you. Quite frankly, because you put your career and studies first, you had no issues putting your family in their place. The intrusive thoughts, snide comments about your appearance, was enough for you to glance at the sleeping pills that were prescribed to you to assist in a normal pattern, to invade your subconscious. The events which led you to climb the fire escape up to the rooftop garden in your kitten heels made for a daring flirtation with death. There have been nights the last couple of months where your heart is heavy in your chest, your lungs are intoxicating you with the poisonous belladonna petals.

“What a time to find out I’m going to die a lot sooner than I thought,” you sighed into your palm. Your eyes scour the hazy city in the afterglow; after a tizzy of a day you had, you chose that perhaps this might be a sign of the universe you were better off dead. Either that or your soulmate would be in extreme pain and you didn’t want to disappoint their perception of your love. Then again, you wouldn’t know what love, honest, and kind would feel like even when you’re about to let it all go.

You are devoid of emotion as you bring yourself to your feet. A hand of yours drags across your face. The drop is high enough to entice little to severe damage like broken legs, or severe head trauma, but to be truly free, you wish to be put out of your misery as quickly as possible.

Mattsukawa sees the figure clad in a lighter powder blue and his eyes are wide with fear. The morgue worker and delivery driver had already gone off into the night to complete the rest of the deliveries of bodies to the funeral homes. As soon as he finished locking up and registering the corpses, Mattsukawa was determined to see your hair wind blowing on the rooftops. The blurred vision he sees makes the twenty-seven year old shiver. Even in his line of work, this was the second instance he wanted to save someone. He knew of you: the business woman who was suffering from a similar ailment to him. The belladonna hues from your rebellious highlights enticed him to notice how you seemed a bit off at the coffee house you frequent by the funeral parlour he had been working at.

“Excuse me,” you said, holding on to your mug. Your knuckles were white with tension, so Mattsukawa did something unexpected of himself: he gave you way, but instead of sitting on the opposite side of the restaurant cafe, he sat directly across from you. The crowd was getting to be a bit noisy, but you and him sat there staring off center, hyper fixating on the number of people sign in either direction.

“Why do you smell like belladonna?” You asked. You had a glance meet you with a harsh smile.

“It’s part of my line of work. I use it to bury the dead at the request for all nameless suiciders that wind up on my table,” Mattsukawa explains. The oils from his embalming course was enough to mimic actual belladonna, but has he noticed from her, it wasn’t coming from just his hands: it was coming from her hair. He asked a question about why you seemed so strung up lately and like a fool, you told him everything which was bothering you. If anything, this man was a silent confession box. He seemed like the genuine article, so when you check for the time, you realize it was time to leave and head back to the office to grab the final jump drive for the presentation. Things at work seemed to have gotten better since the next time you’d see your precious Mattsukawa would be in the next life. You never truly disclosed your name to him, so he made a note call you Bella or Donna (whichever you preferred really). His smile is flirtatiously coy and you felt your cheeks grow a bit warm from the moment he told you his name.

For whatever reason, perhaps Mattsukawa was feeling a bit lucky, he asked you to dinner the day before yesterday. He wanted to know you, truth and all, bruised and damaged as you were, the meds your doctor prescribed were starting to cushion the intrusive thoughts. However that changed the moment you give him a nod, he grabs your hand as you’re about to leave the cafe; gently he squeezes your fingers for reassurance.

“You’ll do great Miss. I believe in you,” Mattsukawa whispers in the last part. The cafe begins to echo again, so you couldn’t hear the last part, but you were sure it was an encouraging word. Mattsukawa was the first person in a long while to give you something so few in your battlefield mind would want (or need): hope.

“Goodbye Mattsukawa.”

With that said, you were gone from the cafe and headed back into the office where a different manager made your life hell because their normal assistant was very organized, but the constant comparison was enough to make your head explode.

Presently, you stand on the ledge, glancing down like a superhero vigilante, but just as you were about to take a dive, you feel a pair of strong arms wrap themselves around your waist. The hands are interlocked under your empire waist line and if it wasn’t for the fact your hair was probably in a ponytail prior to this predicament, you’re sure your band was lost to gravity and the wind. You thrashed about in your captor’s arms, not realizing this person was about to save you from an awful mistake.

You see, Mattsukawa Issei is a funeral employee; he dresses sharply like an agent of the Grim Reaper. He is suave and debonair; he loves watching the life cycles of the various flower arrangements in his mentors stores go throughout the seasons. His heart and soul is full of vibrancy you have yet to comprehend; Mattsukawa was always a strong individual and you could ask anyone of his friends in school what kind of person he was. So, what made you so different? Sure you were stressed out, anybody could see that, but Mattsukawa picked up on the depressive aura you emanated. Did he really want to sit in front of you that afternoon? Sure; it was mainly because he couldn’t shake this feeling ever since you were ahead of him in line to order that he was supposed to meet you here (even if you were at your lowest post appointments at the business office downtown).

You struggle to let go, but the owner of these hands does not wish to loosen their grip on you; you ask twice kindly to be left alone and the soft ortund tone of the stranger’s voice from the cafe stops you from thrashing about further.

He tumbles back and lands on his arse with you sitting on his lap, pressed against his broad chest. His sleeves from the black oxford shirt he wears is rolled up to his elbows, and his hands still are in an interlocked position. Mattsukawa has seen some pretty fucked up causes of death recently, yet this time, he wanted to save you, not bury you. He wants to see you tomorrow night at dinner in the diner close to his loft; he wants you to understand maybe death isn’t all that grand and if you struggle with your mind everyday, he wishes to someday be of importance to you. You’re in charge of your own autonomous decisions, yet Mattsukawa wants you to give him a chance to prove to you that love, hope, and for the very fortunate, miracles exist (even if you weren’t shown any).

“You’re sick,” he closes his eyes. Apparently, you pick up on the frown in his voice and somehow, you’re sixth sense of empathy decides not to fight his tonality, but rather when you subconsciously agree and call your mental state one of a landmine, he doesn’t make a fuss. It was a short exam and you realize may be life is worth living for a nano-second. You could have an entire relationship with this man from the cafe in a span of two hours, if that. The fates must have had a wicked sense of humor when pairing either of you to the other: one who works with and around death, the other has an affinity to try and cross into the next life every moment things in the sea turn too rough.

You slowly stop trying to fight him the moment you hear his voice toss in the wind. Instead, you move your hands to hover limply on his, leaning back and letting his breathing calm you. The smell of belladonna from your hair oil wafts through the air. “Suicide is not how I want your story to end.”

“You have no idea what you’re talking about or-o-or,” you stammer on. “Perhaps I don’t want to be alive anymore because people keep interfering.”

This causes Mattsukawa’s heart to gain a solid crack. You toss your head back and land harshly against his sternum, causing him to grunt and inhale sharply.

It rips seamlessly to his soul. In the past six to eight years since he entered his chosen profession, he has seen corpses from all ages, the youngest being eight who suffered from a myriad of health issues including Hanahaki because the playground friend in their preschool years was going to be theirs when the time properly came. Mattsukawa, the night he was on duty for the wake, anonymously donated the flowers that would have made the child laugh on wishes. Sure, life does have it’s moments when it tests us, yet he couldn’t wrap his head around the burn out business person from earlier this week, who was now in his arms, safe.

Unintentionally landing on his back with you on top of his chest was not how he had pictured becoming a hero. Just for one night, Mattsukawa Issei, the stern and most silent of the volleyball players in high school, was a hero worthy of saving a life.

“Argh,” he groans.

He coughs quietly away from your face when his hands loosen their hold. You chose to not chastise him about not wearing a sweater in the middle of autumn. After all, this man was the only one who would be daft enough to try and stop you. You curl into him, hiding your face in the satin finish of his dress shirt; you promise to buy him a new one as long as you let him hide your eyes and you break down. You’re crying over the smallest inconvenience and on top of feeling like a burden to the man, you consistently apologize by saying it’s no one’s fault especially his when you catch yourself in your darkest moment.

Mattsukawa listens to your request: with one hand, he covers your left side of your face, the right is patting your hair down, reassuring you that he will console you until the sobs stop and the sniffles remain.

“You’re lucky I live and work not too far from here doll,” he whispers into your hair. You’re calming down as you hiccup the last couple of bubbles of air. You nod in understanding the words he was saying, but you still have your eyes closed to shield himself (and keep your pride intact) when he would peer into your bloodshot ones.

“Don’t worry about me tryin’ anything either. You’ve been through enough tonight. Just let me take care of you for the rest, ok?”

“Mmhm,” you agree. He sits up half way and you rise with him, your eyes ever looking westward until you see one of his handkerchiefs from his back pants pocket dangle in your line of sight. You stifle a laugh, utter a thanks, and begin to dry your face. Mattsukawa, when you were done, doesn’t hold your face anymore, even if it pains him to do so. Your free hand decides for both of you: your left reaches for his and you bring the calloused hand, opened palm, to your cheek. Your skin is soft and sticky from the tears, but if anyone were to ask Mattsukawa what it felt like to save a life, he would humbly point you out in a crowd and say ‘Ask ‘em yourself.’

“I lost sight of the things that brought me joy,” you say quietly. You’re breathing in his cologne and it smells like whiskey sours. The scent grounds you, as you recall your therapist giving you stress-relieving tricks such as naming five to ten things your senses pick up on. Your cheeks feel soft like mochi ice against Mattsukawa’s open palm; you see the neon lights hazily glow in the city below you; and finally, you hear his shirt ruffle against the shell of your ear when you finally calm down.

“Everyone does,” Mattsukawa agrees. “Can you do something for me?”

“Mattsukawa-san,” you said his name and he chuckles in surprise. You remembered his name? This was even better than before. He finds himself falling gently in like with you. The love between long lost friends is what keeps him afloat. Unwillingly, you find yourself amusedly smiling at his tanned skin glowing with a soft hues under his eyes. Was this man blushing?

“Call me Issei or Mattsun,” his voice says when his other hand loops around your waist. He buried his head on your right shoulder.

Tonight you learn that even strong and by your standards of “fine men” do in fact cry. You blink a couple more times and he just cries a mixture of tears he has no control over.

“Mattsun,” you say, voice soft like the breeze sending a boat to sail. “I’m sorry about all this.”

“You could have said you weren’t feeling well if you didn’t want to go out with me,” Mattsukawa jokes, turning his head to the side so you wouldn’t see his tear stricken face to the side. He asks you, if you felt comfortable enough, to just stay still for a moment.

The rooftop rendezvous was not what you had in mind when you came home from clocking out, but considering you were heavily contemplating ending your existence earlier, this one request was not too hard to fulfill. The belladonna in your bronchioles seemed to dislodge itself into your lungs. You stay as still as your companion had asked and you breathe in time together. His curls are soft to the touch and when he relaxes his shoulders when you run a hand through his hair, you feel him grin on the right of your shoulder blades.

Was this what it felt like to be you every hour before you both met at the cafe? This profound sadness doesn’t leave his heart nor does he quite shake the feeling of the leaves of the belladonna flowers taking root in his lungs. The flowers bloomed slowly since his twenty-third birthday were the same ones you dyed your hair for. You’ve been suffering with the hanahaki disease for quite some time, you confess back to him.

“Is that why you were here? Trying to jump?” Mattsukawa asks an innocent inquiry. He seemed like he was about to be scolded for the first time in seven years, yet you thought it was kind of adorable. And so you do something you haven’t done in a very long time: you scoff (although you were sure it was closer to a giggle.

“No,” you reply. “I was contemplating jumping because all my triggers hit at once, so I’ve been in a depressive episode for quite some time before we met.”

“Oh,” Mattsukawa acknowledges. “Do you want to stay the night?”

“…that’s awfully forward of you,” you say. Your pragmatic inner voice says to decline, but there is a mischievous side of his mannerisms, nonetheless you are curious. It is late into the evening already, so perhaps the offer is a better one. After all, you think the change of scenery would do you some good, so you humbly agree.

Roughly an hour later, you find yourself in Mattsukawa’s living room area. Offering his shower to you, you ask if there is something he can lend you. It is an old shirt with his high school cactus logo on it, but the shorts he tosses to you has a VBC and his old number stitched on the back pocket. Mattsukawa hands you a spare towel and tells you how to work the shower in his bathroom. Twenty minutes later, you sit close to the kotatsu even if it’s not too cold outside at the moment, you tend to sleep better underneath one.

Prior to your shower, Mattsukawa-san graciously gave you a small tour of his loft when you arrived. The walk wasn’t too far from the rooftop building and so you two walk side by side until the loft complex came into view. Mattsukawa says hi to the doorman who makes a joke or two about how he had almost pulled another overnight at the funeral home.

“Be careful with that one miss, he’d work himself to death! Ha! Work himself to death,” the doorman says, wiping a faux tear from his eye. You snickered covering your smile with the back of your hand. When you put it to the side of your body, Mattsukawa notices how dazzling your smile is. How would someone who smiles this much at a pun, hold so much carnage of self-doubt and depressive thoughts in their heart? Is that why your flowers and your scent are wrapped in poisonous belladonna? Mattsukawa shakes this thought to the furthest parts of his mind. You’re here now, in the next room, safe under the same roof.

The master bedroom door is opened just a crack once Mattsukawa is half-dressed in his pajama pants, parading around shirtless fetching a glass of water from the kitchen. You were already seated on the barstool peering out the sliding glass door of the patio outside. Jumping was not the way to die for you, you think. Perhaps if you died with love, perhaps you’d have a better chance of reincarnation than you thought. The ambient sounds of the refrigerator and the water spout being used brought you back to hold the gaze of your host for the evening. You made a conscientious decision to cash in on your PTO at your work location for the next two weeks via e-mail. You explain to the HR representative you were feeling burn out and your therapist was working with you to battle the depressive episodes you were going through. The automotive message came back saying someone from the office of internal affairs would look into the chain of command in your division. However, you could care less about work at the moment, since you were enjoying the company of the person who helped kept you tied to this world.

“You like what you see?” Mattsukawa says smoothly. The water glass is placed on the counter in front of you. After graduation from Aoba Josai, running and other kinesthetic stretches were included in his workout regiment. You froze, placing your phone face down to the extreme left of the counter space. The granite glowed in the soft lamp from behind you, casting shadows in the grooves of his muscular features.

“I don’t know how to answer that,” you tease. “But I do like the person who saved me from making a huge mistake.”

Mattsukawa nods as he leans forward to rest his chin in his hand.

“I’ll always come running to you Yin,” he gives you a nickname close to the currency your country uses. This causes you to roll your eyes, yet you reassure him it was filled with endearment.

“You sound like you’re going to love me until the day I properly die Mattsun.”

He wasn’t expecting you to climb halfway across the granite counter, stretching your back further parallel to the floor (your feet are balancing your lower half on the chair).

His hand finds its way to the small of your back and he says a quick, “pardon me.” The onyx eyes he owns close and crinkle upward like small crescent moons before you feel his pursed lips press against your forehead.

“You’re safe here,” you hear him say. His warmth is a welcomed blanket of comfort for you; his words are kinder than your own thoughts.

“Will you kiss me properly?” You ask.

“In the morning, first thing,” he answers. “But first, sleep.”

Mattsukawa walks around his counter to keep you from hanging in the balance thus lowering the risk of you falling knees first on the floor.

“Remember how you fell on top of me?” Mattsukawa’s voice is low. You swallow nervously; you affirm that you do. “Good. Now hold on to me sweetheart.”

He leans back against your left side of your suspended body and he wraps an arm around your mid-section and you push off with your elbows. The next thing you are aware of, you are being carried like a drowsy child to the living room where you sit on Mattsukawa’s lap like before. You raise a hand to his smooth face, your fingers tracing the highest points of his features; his eyes flutter close to the sensational spell you are casting; he is about to fall in the in-between of sleep and lucidity when he feels your lips press firmly against his. When you back down, he stops you with one word: “More. One more time.”

You turn your head at an angle the moment you feel his hands turn you around to straddle him more comfortably.

“Better,” you confirm. Your nose teases his own and he languidly looks at you before he pushes your back playfully and your lips meet his again.

You sigh against his lips when your knees come into contact with his cushion; his arms move away from your hips to your ribs. The callouses he earned over the years of playing volleyball in high school memorizes the map of your skin. Together, the aroma of belladonna almost dissipates the pain in your lungs the longer you are breathing in everything the young man in front of you is giving.

This was as brave as you wanted to be right now. You’d be more adventurous months into your new found relationship with your restaurant-cafe rendezvous man. Your hands trace his collar bones before they found their purchase on the sides of his neck.

“I like that,” you say when you are given a chance to catch your breath. Mattsukawa’s hands rest on your love handles again and he pushes you into a loose embrace. Your hair tickles his shoulder when you rest your head against his pectoral.

“I like this too,” he says, running his fingers lightly up and down your spine. “Close your eyes and rest for a while Yin. We can talk about this in the morning, ok?”

You stifle a yawn, agreeing.

A few minutes later, after you are truly asleep, Mattsukawa supports you in his arms and he carries you like a child, careful to support your neck as your legs rest limply above his hips, to his room. He lays you down first and then proceeds to tuck you in; staying above the duvet, he watches over you breathing in and out steadily, the last small petals escaping your lips when you cough softly in your sleep. Mattsukawa stares at the last shriveled one on the corner of your lips and swats it away.

“Pretty angel, don’t scare me like that. I don’t want to lose you,” Mattsukawa reaches over to hold your hand; fingers intertwining around your own and you squeeze his back. “You’ll be alright and I will help you keep nightmares away.”

“Why?” Your voice is laced with sleep. “Why do you want to love me?”

“Because our story is just beginning my love.”

Mattsukawa rubs his thumb over your knuckles and when he lies down further on his bed next to you, he rests a protective arm over your shoulders.

#sora scribbles #sora after hours #🌻— flying around collecting pollen—queue #🌻 txt #haikyuu x reader #cw: intrusive thoughts #cw: depressive episode for yn #cw: unsuccessful suicide attempt #cw: burn out form work and life in general #mattsukawa x you

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