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smoooothoperator · 3 months

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untouchable

09: Adore You

Lando Norris x OC (Violet Sinclair)

same group friend, unrequited love, acquittances to lovers, ski trip, love triangle

Words: 4.1k

Warnings: fluff, smut (+18), period

a/n: cute things happening and more things to come!

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Being with them was easy. I feel like a completely different person when I'm with them. I don't have to walk around eggshells, hiding my own person and doing whatever they tell me to do. With them it's easy to talk, to be myself.

Pietra is someone I can trust, someone that wants to listen to whatever I talk about and is always there when I need her. Max is someone that makes me laugh and smile, that will always tease me to prove me I can do things on my own. And Landon… Lando is starting to be my favorite person in this world.

He's the first thing I see when I wake up the last few days, the one that smiles when I walk inside a room and the first one to stand up whenever I ask for help.

The week in the snow was ending, and the last day we wanted to spend it with the four of us in the house, making a fire on the balcony just to burn marshmallows.

During the last few days, Lando and I got closer. Really close. And instead of worrying me, I just let it be. We kissed when we were alone, cuddled and slept in the same bed at night. I let him hold me when we were out having fun in the snow. And everything was magical.

But as days were passing, my anxiety started to grow even more. Deep inside me there was a voice that reminded me that I had to go back to reality, as well as Lando. We have responsibilities and work to do. We have our families and even if I started to get used to having him beside me every minute of the day, I knew that it was only because we were here.

“What are you guys going to do once we arrive home?” I dared to ask, watching how the white marshmallow started to get toasted.

“Well, we have to film things for Quadrant” Lando nodded next to me.

“Oh, right” Max nodded. “We have to go to Sweden and then go back to London”

“Yeah, five busy days of filming” Lando smiled proudly. “It will be exciting”

“And you?” Pietra asked, leaning on her boyfriend and looking at me.

“I guess I'll study and work” I smiled, shrugging my shoulders.

“And your parents?” Lando frowned.

“Yeah, they are still on that cruise trip” I sighed.

I heard Lando sigh, rubbing my back softly making me smile weakly at him. I didn't want to talk about it, about how my parents decided to not be with me during my time off of school, about how they forgot my birthday and about them making me stay alone at home during holidays.

When the marshmallows ended we decided to go back inside, getting ready to go to bed. But I didn't want to, not now. I just want to stay a little longer.

“You'll get cold, Violet” I heard Lando, coming back to the balcony. Seconds later I saw him standing next to me with a blanket in his hands.

“I don't want to leave” I sighed, patting the seat next to mine, asking him silently to sit next to me. “I don't want to go back home, to be alone”

“Why don't you come with me, hm?” he whispered, wrapping his arm around me and pulling me closer. “It will be fun”

“But you have to work, Lando” I sighed, and stayed quiet for a few seconds. “I just… I'm scared of going back home and realizing that everything that happened here was just to have fun”

“No, hey” he frowned. “None of this was for fun. You and I, us. It wasn't for fun. I want to be able to call you mine, okay? I want you to come with me to races and walk next to you”

“I guess I'm scared of going back to reality, Lando” I sighed, holding his hand. “Of going back home, back to the classes, of going back to my normal life as a student. I guess it terrifies me thinking about not having you next to me, because I got so comfortable with you during this whole week, and knowing that you will be away makes me feel lonely”

“Oh, come here” he sighed, pulling me closer and kissing my head. “You know you can call me whenever you need to, right? You survived four years without me, you can survive five days”

“But in those four years I didn't spend my time kissing you and hugging you” I sighed looking at him. “I didn't think about you as more than a friend, Lando. You were there and we texted just for important things”

“And we can keep doing it” he said. “We can keep texting, calling. I'll go back to you once I finish this work. I'll go back to you, we will talk about what the future has for us and then I won't leave you until you get tired of me, okay?”

“Never” I smile looking at him. “I think I'll never get tired of you”

“That's good” he chuckled. “Now, please… please let's go back inside because I'm freezing and I can't feel my ears right now”

I chuckled and nodded, standing up and looking at him, hugging him. The last few days he made me fall for him, he made me fall in love with who he is. And I don't want to regret that. I want to cherish all the seconds I can have next to him until something bigger than us makes us part our ways.

“Let's go to bed” I smile, standing on my tiptoes and kissing his lips softly. “You are cold”

“Because certain missy wanted to stay out a little more” he whispered against my lips, making me chuckle softly.

We went inside the house and walked upstairs towards the bedrooms, giggling when he picked me up and opened the door of my bedroom. I smiled looking at him, peppering soft kisses on his cheek before he let me stand on my feet in the middle of the room, placing his hands on my waist and slowly wrapping his arms around me, pulling me closer.

Lando is someone that waits for the other person to feel comfortable. Before kissing me, he always stands closer and looks at me waiting for an answer. When he wants to hug me, he waits for me to start it. He lets me choose if I want affection even if he's dying to touch me and hold me. And that, waiting for an approval, is something that made me fall for him.

“Promise me one thing” I whispered against the skin of his neck.

“Of course, what is it?”

“You will call me and text me whenever you need it too” I said, looking at him. “Don't hold back this time. Not again. If you see something that reminds me of you, just say it. If you miss me, call me”

“I promise” he smiled, kissing the tip of my nose.

I took a deep breath and smiled looking at him, cupping his cheek and pressing my lips on his. He sighed against my lips, holding me tighter and pressing my body on his, deepening the kiss.

Something changed in that kiss. It was more passionate, deeper, with desire and lust. And still, I returned the same feelings, making me moan the moment I felt his tongue against my lips asking for access to my mouth, wanting to explore and melt his lips with mine, our tongues starting a fight that will only end once both of us are satisfied.

“I don't want to force you” he panties, pulling away to catch his breath.

“You are not, you know it” I argued, kissing him again, and again, and again…

My skin started to burn asking for his touch, desperate to feel his hands over my body. The ache between my legs was increasing, making me rub my thighs trying to find a release. Between our bodies, his length started to get harder, I could feel it.

I know what will happen next. I know that it will mean something. I know that once we do it there won't be a way back. And thinking about it makes me want him even more.

I saw him half naked before, spending summers together. It was normal seeing him in a bath suit. But now, having him completely naked in front of me, it made me reaffirm that he is indeed attractive.

“Are you sure about this?” he whispered breathless, watching me kiss his chest. “Violet…”

“Shut up” I whisper looking up at him, kneeling and wrapping my hand around him, watching how he closed his eyes and hissed.

It only made me bite my lip before licking his tip, teasing him before taking him in my mouth. I was still dressed, and it was bad because I could feel myself getting more wet only by sucking him.

“Keep going” he moaned, holding my hair out of my face, pushing my head a little closer to him. “I'm close”

I felt it, I felt him getting closer, and even if he tried to pull out I just kept going until I felt the salty release in my throat. He gasped looking down at me, watching how I let him go and swallowed, licking my lips after that.

“Fuck, that was so hot” he sighed, helping me stand up, pressing his lips on mine.

I moaned, not only because I just realized that I gave him head and I turned him even more, but because I was feeling so wet because I needed him. The ache between my legs was begging me to let him touch me.

He started to undress me slowly, taking off my hoodie and shirt and my joggers. His lips traveled over my body, pressing wet kisses that made me want him even more.

“I need you” I whisper, tilting my neck to the side when I felt his lips on my neck, leaving a trail of kisses until he reaches my lips.

He nodded and his hand traveled down my stomach, caressing my skin slowly until his fingers touched the elastic of my panties. He never stopped kissing me, not even when his fingers touched my clitoris and I moaned on his lips, not even when he traced my folds with his fingers.

“You are so wet” he whispered. “So wet…”

“Yeah” I nodded, spreading more my legs for him.

I closed my eyes when I felt how he started rubbing my clit, hearing the obscene sounds and being turned even more when he caught between his lips my hard nipple, making me moan quietly. His tongue started to draw circles on it… until he stopped.

“Violet” he whispered, making me hum and frown my eyebrows.

His fingers were no longer touching me, his lips were no longer on my breast.

“What? What's wrong?” I asked, breathless, frustrated because he stopped touching me.

“I mean, I don't mind, but…” he sighed looking at me with a weak smile. “You are bleeding”

“What?!” I screamed, sitting straight and looking at his hand, then at the bed sheets.

Red. Fucking red.

“Fucking hell!” I gasped, grabbing the first clothing I found and covering my body with it, standing up in the middle of the room.

My period. My fucking period decided to come right now when I was going to have sex with him. What type of fucking joke is this?

“Violet, it's okay, really” he said, trying to reach for my hand.

“This is so fucking embarrassing” I gasped looking at his fingers.

“No, it's not. It's normal” he sighed, standing up and taking a step closer to me, but I just pushed him away. “I don't mind, really”

I ran to the bathroom and locked the door before he could follow me. This can't be happening. There's no way this happened now.

I heard the door of Max and Pietra's room opening and I closed my eyes, feeling tears in my eyes and how my breathing started to get heavier.

God, I want to die! They heard us. They heard me.

“What happened?” Max frowned, coming out of the room and looking at the bathroom door and then at Violet's room.

“She… eh…” I sighed, swallowing thickly, wrapping myself with the blanket.

“Oh” Pietra smiled weakly when she saw the blood. “I’ll talk with her”

I swallow thickly and look at the bed sheets, then at Max. What am I supposed to do?

“I fucked up” I sighed, taking the sheets off and changing them, cleaning my hand with them and throwing them to the floor. “I fucking embarrassed her”

“Mate, it's okay” he smiled weakly.

“No Max” I frown. “I just… God! Maybe it was a sign. A sign that we are going too fast. That…”

“Hey, hey, stop” he frowned. “Look, none of that is true. Look, whatever you two were doing or were going to do, wasn't a mistake”

“But I just told her the most stupid thing ever!” I exclaimed. “I told her that it was okay and that I didn't mind. God, how can I be that disgusting?”

“You are not, you just wanted to make her feel okay, that's all” he sighed, patting my back. “Come on, let's change the sheets, yeah? I think Pietra is taking care of her”

I sigh and change the bed sheets with his help, waiting for Violet once we finish making the bed. What should I do? I didn't want to make her feel that bad, I just…

I shook my head and sighed, going to the kitchen and making her a hot chocolate, as an apology.

“Hey” I heard her sigh, walking inside the kitchen.

“Hey” I smiled. “I'm sorry. So sorry for what happened there. I just…”

“I get it” she sighed. “You wanted to return the favor. But I just didn't notice that today was supposed to come my period and I thought that the wetness was because I was horny and not because of the… well, blood”

“I didn't want to make you uncomfortable, Violet. Please understand that” I said looking at her, opening my arms for her.

“It's okay, Lando” she sighed, hugging me.

“Maybe it wasn't our time to go the way” I whisper, rubbing her back softly. “And it was better to stop it before we regret that…”

“I wouldn't have regretted having sex with you, Lando” she said, looking up at me.

“I didn't bring condoms” I said, blushing and looking away. “And of course I wasn't going to ask Max for some”

“Oh, I get it” she chuckled softly, kissing my cheek. “We'll wait. And now, please, give me that hot chocolate”

I nodded and sigh, picking her up and making her sit on the counter, standing between her legs while she drank the hot chocolate. I rubbed her sides, her thighs. I just want to give her some release of her pain, of whatever she feels right now.

I saw her leave the cup on the counter and I smiled weakly at her. She cupped my cheeks and kissed me softly, making me sigh.

“Do you need something? Pads? Tampons? I'll go to the village” I asked against her lips.

“It's okay, Pietra gave me what I needed” she said, wrapping her arms around my shoulders.

“I changed the sheets” I whispered.

“Mhm, I saw”

I sigh, breaking the kiss and looking at her. There's still that feeling of guilt in my chest, of starting something the moment I started that kiss in her bedroom.

“Lando, it's okay” she sighed. “We can try once you are back from work”

“I just don't want it to be staged, Violet” I sighed. “I don't want to put a day for the first time I have sex with you. I want it to go natural, to happen because both of us wanted to..”

“Oh, believe me. The moment you'll press the doorbell of my apartment I'll want you naked in my bedroom” she joked, making me chuckle softly.

“Silly” I laughed softly, kissing her lips.

“I just want our first time together to be something we will remember” she sighed, playing with my hair. “I don't want it to be dumb and clumsy because our friends are sleeping in the room next door. Maybe it was a good signal, okay?”

I nodded and sigh, kissing her forehead softly and rubbing her thighs softly. She drank the chocolate until she finished it, hugging me again.

“And the way you acted… thank you for that” I heard her whisper.

“Why?” I frown looking at her.

“It's just… how you acted” she smiled. “You weren't disgusted about it. Believe me, it made me feel a little better when I calmed down and realized what happened”

“Why would I be disgusted?” I frown, squeezing her hips softly.

“Oh, believe me. The guys I used to date literally avoided me like the plague whenever I told them I had my period” she smiled weakly, making me roll my eyes.

“Then let me tell you that you dated assholes, my dear” I laugh softly.

“I know” she smiled weakly, and I just kissed her lips softly.

“Let's go to bed, yeah? We can cuddle” I smiled.

“Yes, please”

The warmth of his hand on my low abdomen made me sleep, and I felt so grateful for that.

The next morning I felt better, but knowing that we are leaving in a few hours made my heart break a little. I know what will happen once we step in the airport. Pietra and I will go back home, and Lando and Max will go to Sweden.

“How are you feeling?” I heard him whisper behind me, making me turn around slowly and hide my face on his chest.

“Like shit, basically” I sighed. “But it's okay”.

“Does it hurt?” he whispered, rubbing my lower back. “Do you need something? A painkiller?”

“It's okay, Lando” I whisper. “I'll take a painkiller with breakfast and I'll be okay, don't worry”

“I do worry, you are in pain and I can't do anything about it” he sighed, making me chuckle softly.

“Ah, stop it! You are going to make me fall harder for you” I laughed softly.

“Then I won't stop” he joked, kissing my forehead.

We cuddled a little more, not wanting to leave the bed, but both of us knew that we had a plane to take and things to do. And I hate to admit it, but leaving him made me feel bad.

“Thank you for this week” I whisper. “Really, thank you”

“No, Violet” he smiled, brushing my hair out of my face. “Thank you, for giving me a chance during this week. If I told the Lando of two weeks ago that I kissed you and you kissed me back, he wouldn't believe it”

“Oh, silly” I laughed, hitting his chest softly.

We got up after a while, trying to stay in bed as long as possible. Our suitcases were ready, we only needed to put the sleeping clothes inside of them and get dressed.

It was a quiet breakfast, Max and Pietra were quiet too. My mind was full of questions of “what if…”. What if when I return home Eloise is no longer my friend? What if Harry hurt her? What if Harry managed to make that threat come true? His phone didn't have those pictures he mentioned, but maybe those were on his laptop. What if he sent them to the tabloids? What if…

“Hey” Lando smiled, holding my hand and squeezing it softly. “It will be okay, don't worry”

I smiled weakly and nodded, finishing my breakfast and heading back to the bedroom to grab all my things. I looked for one last time to the bedroom, to the trees covered in snow in front of the window. This place saw me fall for Lando, and I wish those stay with me and come with me to London. I don't want to regret who I am right now.

“Ready?” I heard Lando behind me, making me turn around and walk towards him, pressing my lips on his for a few seconds. “Let's go”

He helped me with the suitcase and then he put it in the back of the car with the other ones. He held my hand and rubbed his thumb on it softly, kissing my forehead and going back inside to take other things.

“I'll miss this place” I heard Pietra sigh next to me. “It was nice, I liked it”

“Yeah well, let's hope we come back someday, and this time without arguments during the stay, right?” I smiled weakly, remembering that day when Harry went mad.

“Are you okay?” she smiled weakly.

“I guess I'll have to deal with it” I said. “I sent Eloise a text the other day, just telling her how I felt and what happened. I don't know if she replied or not”

“That's good” she nodded.

“Yeah, well… I wanted to do the same with Harry, but I guess I didn't want to risk it and go back to his lies” I smiled weakly. “Maybe I'll do it someday, but at the moment I want to stay away from him”

She nodded and smiled, hugging me and getting inside the car, waiting for Lando and Max to come out of the house. I sighed, sitting in the front and looking at my phone. No texts from Eloise, nothing from her. Maybe she didn't read what I sent her, or she ignored it.

The way to the airport was fast, time passed really fast and all I wanted was to stay here longer. I held Lando's all the time during the check in, while waiting for the plane.

“It will be okay” he smiled, hugging me and kissing my temple. “It's only a few days, okay? I'll be there soon”

“I know” I sighed. “Text me whenever you want, okay?”

“Of course” he smiled. “And you will text me once you land”

I sighed and nodded, kissing his lips softly.

I don't care what others might think. Five days? Time passes fast! But when you discover who you are when you are with someone and you feel comfortable with them, you don't want them to leave. The Violet from a week ago would think that I look pathetic, doing something I promised myself I wouldn't do: act like an innocent girl in love that all she wants is to be with her lover.

“Come on, they are calling us” Pietra smiled weakly.

I nodded and laughed sadly, waving goodbye to Max and Lando and going with her towards our gate.

“I looked ridiculous, right?” I sighed, sitting next to her.

“You looked in love, that's all” she smiled. “It was cute. I'm sure Lando will miss you too”

“Yeah…” I smiled. “I didn't tell him yet. That, well… that I love him”

“You do?” she gasped while holding my hand.

“I think I do” I nodded. “After what he did last night… He made me realize that I never had someone that treated the way he does. And it makes me feel so good and loved”

“That's wonderful, Violet” she smiled. “Bieber me when I say that this whole week you grew up so much. You changed and I love this new Violet more than the previous one”

“I do, too”

The flight was short, and since we had to go different ways, we said goodbye once we walked out of the airport.

The moment I got inside the underground, realization hit me hard knowing that I had to go back to the routine, that I was alone and that my home is nothing compared to that beautiful house in the snow. That my neighbors are noisy and that my room has views of the crowded streets and traffic lights.

I took a deep breath the moment I opened the door of the building, smiling at the receptionist.

“Oh, Violet. You have some packages for you”

I frown and smile, grabbing the boxes and carrying them alongside my suitcase and backpack. Once I was inside my apartment I grabbed my phone, smiling and texting him.

Violet: you didn't have to send me more gifts, Lando. Really, now that I know it's you, you just can hand it to me once you are back 🧡

Lando🧡: what? I didn't send you anything, at least not yet

Violet: what?

taglist

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focusontheheart · 8 months

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Meet the Team Lead - DinoKieran

Give a warm welcome to the passionate Lead for the Seyka route, it's DinoKieran! You can find them on AO3 as DinoKieran!

Hi! The name’s Kieran (you can call me Dino) , long time nerd and longer time Fanfiction writer. I played Zero Dawn for the first time a few weeks before Frozen Wilds came out, and I’ve been enamored ever since. Before playing Burning Shores, I was a solitary fan just keeping to myself, but I finally decided to take a step out into the wider community and now look where I am! I’m knee-deep in Horizon Fanfiction WIPs, 3D printed Machine miniatures and the beginnings of cosplay, not to mention this huge project. I’ve never been a part of something so collaborative in a fandom before, and I can’t wait to share what I’ve made!

Q&A with Dino under the cut!

What is a favorite piece of work you've done (completed/ working on/ in-concept)?

Because I’m still such a newcomer to the Horizon fanfic world, almost all of the works that I’m most excited about are all works in progress (keep an eye out though, I’ve got a lot on the way! I love a good rare pair ship and it shows!), so instead I would like to draw your attention to a fic that connected me to an unexpected ship: "Snowburn" by OutOfRetirement. Ask anyone in my social circle and they’ll tell you just how obsessed I am with that fic!

What are some of your favorite tropes (to write/ draw/ read)?

Give me a slow burn, honestly. Getting the opportunity to detail the long and complex construction of a relationship from first meeting to falling in love speaks to my soul! It’s a perfect opportunity to carry out in-depth character studies. A good Modern AU wouldn’t go amiss either. I enjoy being able to take characters out of their world and creating a less chaotic, simpler world. Gives me a break from writing drama, I guess you could say lol.

What is an unexpected thing or fun fact about you?

Outside of writing, I have what I like to call my ‘roledex of hobbies’. These hobbies are a mix, from whittling and embroidery to wildlife photography and houseplant collecting, I know I never have to worry about being bored!

What has been your favorite thing about working on this project so far?

Honestly? Just getting to be a part of it! I’ve been a fanfiction writer for over a decade, but have never had the chance to work on anything collaborative outside of a singular joint fic I wrote a few years ago. Over the years I found myself watching other writers getting to be part of projects like Zines and believed that was something out of my reach, but now I’m here, surrounded by a wonderful community, and part of a project I never saw coming. Words cannot describe how thankful I am for this opportunity!

#focus on the heart #foth #foth dating sim fangame #foth visual novel fangame #meet the team: leads #team lead (seyka): DinoKieran

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assassinationclassroom-studyblr · 8 months

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STUDY/EXAM FOCUSED Assassination Classroom Episodes (Season 1)

TEST TIME (Season 1, Episode 6)

Mid-terms! Of second semester!

Remember your second blades!

"Those who can't wield a second blade, aren't qualified to be assassins!" (Korosensei

Set big goals for yourself! And work for those goals! but don't be disheartened if you don't reach all your goals.

"You gave us everything you had, and at the moment of truth it mattered." (Karma Akabane)

and always remember to overprepare! If you want to ace your tests and exams, you have to know everything there shouldn't be a single blank space

If you don't do well on one test, guess what? You'll get your revenge twofold, on the next test. Keep doing your best!

Definitely an episode to watch if you've just done poorly on a test or exam ( the second half) or are struggling to find a motivation to study for an upcoming evaluation (the second blade speech always gets me)

END OF TERM TIME (Season 1, Episode 15)

this one is filled with studying!

While you won't get the ability to blow up a tentacle, find someway to motivate yourself to do your best (my motivation is buying myself something, like manga)

get people who know a subject (your peers specifically) to help you understand; they can help dumb it down for you and you can speak with them more informally in a comfortable way! I always find that there's less pressure when you ask your classmates instead of a teacher

find a hot smartass to explain shit to you (Gakushu explaining always gets me)

study groups! study groups! study groups! (actually study, don't play around, have your earbuds in but use each other)

more motivation might includes spite studying; whether it's being spiteful towards your parents who say you can't do it, or students with high grades who are assholes (i hate the fact that terrible people get higher grades than me, it's great motivation)

DON'T BE KARMA

"Apply yourself for heavens sake! You can get the best overall score!" (Korosensei to Karma)

"We can both afford to relax!" (Karma) YEAH SURE ONCE YOU HAVE STUDIED (but ofc remember to relax as well, don't burn yourself out)

Korosensei's message on the board: In-Depth Reading for Finals, Slay 'em! (Special Enhanced Lesson)

Get help from your teachers!

Do your best to not underestimate yourself!

CLOSING TIME; FIRST SEMESTER (Season 1, Episode 16)

"Tests are splendid. The knowledge soaked up by those eager minds in preparation may be forgotten once the dust has settled. But c'est la vie. The character building thrill of competition, the privilege of honing ones mind to a fine point, the ecstasy of giving it your all. That's the treasure."

There's a lot of reasons to hate testing and exams; especially for those of us who don't really preform that great with complete memory based stuff but Korosensei's speech about tests always move me. It's a challenge to overcome not a terrible hurtle that shouldn't be involved in education. It makes me appreciate the value of tests a lot more.

the reason Class E did well was because they overstudied, way more than the A Class jerks so remember! Learn as much as you can!

"Akabane's a member of E Class, isn't he? He placed second on the midterms, right below me. Quite an accomplishment for a slacker." (Gakushu Asano)

You can be naturally smart but remember the people who work hard usually win above those who slack (in the end, the slacking catches up to people AHEM AHEM)

"Commendable but not intimidating. You see, I am anything but a slacker." (Gakushu Asano, continued aND proved his point with the results)

"The key to true victory, is learning how not take the game so... seriously." (Karma Akabane before he dropped like 10 spots) NOW he is right in some aspects like you don't have to take everything in your life extremely seriously but your grades and education matter! So do your best! Try hard!

"It doesn't matter how hard your opponent works if you're better than them." (Karma dumbass Akabane) AGAIN! Don't think like this! These are all examples of how not to think! Don't be one of those cocky smart assholes that you use as motivation to be better!

Ok I'd also like to add that the soundtrack behind this scene is so great, which one is it for the life of me I can't find it

The entire Korosensei lecture and speech man I can't type it all up but just all of that plus the Karma/Gakushu comparisons beautiful, chefs kiss, great motivations especially for previously 'gifted' students

be proud of your wins! (as proud as Terasaka and the gang for their home economics win)

ENJOY YOUR SUMMERS!!! You worked hard all semester or throughout the entire year (depends on your schools system) you deserve the rest! Enjoy your hobbies, go out, take breaks, spend time with your family, work on yourself, and study! Don't put it on the backburner just because you're not at school. Polish that second blade!

"Let the assassination classroom summer vacation begin! Time for a little R & R, a little supplemental study, and a lot of killing!"

#assassination classroom #assassinationclassroom.studyblr #karma akabane #studyblr #korosensei #nagisa shiota #ass class

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sleepymarmot · 8 months

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Bright Young Things (2003) / Vile Bodies (1930)

Yes, yes, of course I watched this for young gay Michael Sheen.

For real, the main entertainment factor of this film is embodying the Leo pointing meme every time a familiar face shows up on screen. At some point a certain someone appeared in an incidental role for a few seconds in a close-up next to Tennant and I completely fucking lost it. The UK can’t possibly have so few actors!

I’ve never even heard of the book this was based on, or was aware this was an adaptation before being informed in the opening titles, but it’s very noticeable. The script frantically jumps from plot point to plot point just like in any other feature film that tries to cram a novel in less than two hours of runtime. A bigger problem is that it’s not very clear to the viewer whether they should even try to make out a plot out of this string of scenes, or it’s a narrative that operates on vibes only. (I had to quickly leaf through previous scenes because I’d put a name to a wrong face, all while wondering if correcting myself was even worth it.) The film has a boisterous beginning, then slows down for a long time, then is given a shot of energy when James McAvoy’s character does a certain big thing halfway through (I cheered. Then I went “Oh man :/”). The plot does get a bit more coherent after that.

The ending caught me by surprise: I didn’t realize it was that late in the thirties. The radio announcement was a real “Guess he’ll die” moment, and it was immediately followed by a scene where the main character and his love interest seemed to poetically die on the same day… And then both of these were swiftly undone. The final scene was so conspicuously set during an air raid in a room filled with burning candles that I kept expecting the final frame to be a bomb hitting the building, or someone knocking over one of the candles — either way, with the pair being set ablaze just like the rediscovered manuscript. But no, it was just… a happy/bittersweet melodramatic ending? Instead of a neat destructive one? But I had already given up on the emotionally involved melodramatic mode of viewing because I’d written off the characters as unlikeable empty shells whom you study like a bug instead of rooting for! The girl didn’t even seem to like the boy and the boy sold her, what kind of emotion was their reunion supposed to evoke? And what happened to Agatha and Miles during/after the war? According to the summary on Wikipedia, the original novel’s ending is entirely different in content and tone, and much more in tune with the detached cynicism of the story up to the war, which makes me wonder even more about the adaptation’s intent.

It was nice to look at all these pretty people in fashionable clothes, and get a glimpse of a foreign historical setting. “Watching a random mildly obscure production because you’ve heard about it online and/or some star was in it” is a familiar, semi-forgotten experience, and that felt pleasantly nostalgic.

---

Of course, I couldn’t resist immediately reading the original book to compare, encouraged by a review saying that it’s actually not that long. I found a public domain version somewhere and read the bare original text without commentary, even though I’m sure it’s a terrible way to consume century-old satire.

I was surprised to discover that the book is from 1930 — and still ends with a great war (fictional, I assume). No wonder the adaptation moved the setting a decade forward!

My impression that the characters and their stories were supposed evoke curiosity and contempt rather than compassion was confirmed. I now find the shoehorned sappy ending even stranger. The film version turned out to be very faithful otherwise: the unimportant events and characters are condensed well, and the weird pacing and disjointedness that I perceived as a trait of sloppy adaptation were actually true to the source material.

The last chapters of the book feel different not because of the sudden bleakness, but because the scope is rapidly narrowed to the few main characters, and most of the secondary subplots are dropped. The book, unlike the adaptation, puts a definite end to Agatha’s story (and her life), and there’s an entire subplot about a fictional film that didn’t make it to the real film, but what about the Prime Minister and his unsuccessful courtship of a Japanese noblewoman, or Miles’ brother and his rejected proposal? I thought these were going somewhere.

What a shame that the misunderstanding about “shooting” didn’t make it to the adaptation — it’s one of the few passages in the novel I found genuinely funny. Speaking of dialogue, I thought the “parties” monologue in the film was very unnatural and theatrical, and sure, in the novel it’s not said aloud but belongs to the narrator.

The minor character who hosted the fateful party was in the novel actually, uhh, a major character from the writer’s previous novel who made money via human trafficking?? That would have been very confusing for the movie’s audience, so I think it was pretty clever to throw all that out and make her Miles’ mother instead. Too bad a more serious take on Miles warranted a new surname: “Miles Malpractice” is a great name.

Miles’ role was expanded a lot for the film, which I think we all agree was a good choice. Most of his lines in the movie, including the tearful goodbye, aren’t in the book at all! So that’s another thing that was made more dramatic for the film. You win some (Miles), you lose some (the ending). The moral of the story is… Stephen Fry is better at writing a gay character than a straight romance? No wonder; the question is why he even bothered with the latter.

#i have a disease called ''if i watch an adaptation i have to read the book''#bright young things #literature #liveblogs and reviews #blah blah blah #btw tumblr doesn't have a tag for the novel. straight up redirects to a search #the only explanation i see is that this combination of words is considered obscene and censored #which is very funny considering the inciting incident of the story

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ferociouslycreativemystery · 1 year

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Thanks for the tag @timespacegirls !! :D

Get to know someone better tag game

1. Three ships

Ineffable husbands have chopped out and replaced a disturbing proportion of my brain. They're all I never knew I wanted and I will never need anything more in life no food no water no air no-

Then there's thasmin, of course! Love me some thasmin, and then... ohh I'm not sure? I usually go in for canon more than shipping, thoughIf I do fall in, I'm in hook line and sinker lol. Let's say destiel (or nandermo) for completeness sake—they're amazing too :)

2. Last song

Domino - Jessie J. The pre-chorous just popped into my head today for no reason (did I even know English well enough to understand it last time I heard it?) so it's been on repeat all day while I studied. Hope the neighbours appreciated my ugly-sing-along 😇

3. Last movie

Oh god this is gonna sound so pretentious, but Citizen Kane 🙈 Mum's on a "classics binge" and I suggested it, so since my brother's dragged dad into gaming and they'd occupied the living room with Fallout, we cozied up on their bed upstairs instead. It's been a very nice evening, and it is a very good movie!

4. Currently reading

THE LIGHT FANTASTIC. I'M 💕LOVING💕 ITTTT!!! Literally just put it down to write this and it's AMAZING! Twoflower as a blorbo is on par with Aziraphale and the Doctor imo, and I'm burning trough the discworld novels at a speed I didn't think I was capable of anymore (I guess there's also the fact I'm procrastinating uni work by reading to consider, but hush let's not dwell on that). I'm one-and-a-bit week(s) in and already on the second book, HIGHLY recommend to anyone who sees this and hasn't read them yet!! Can't wait to find out what other stories and characters await in the series 🤩

5. Currently watching

Ummm... nothing I think? I'm veeerryyy slowly making my way through A League of Their Own, but since I started reading I'm taking a bit of a break from getting into new series atm. Just finished Wednesday a few days back though, and thought it was quite good! 🙂

6. Currently consuming

Nothing 😂 had kalops (a like in Amanda, o like in Oliver. amazingly nonsense-name for a dish, sounds like a horse galopping lol) for dinner. Apparently it's just a swedish/finnish thing, but it's a meat stew with carrots, allspice and bay leaf. It's very nice!

7. Currently craving

Not much actually, which is quite nice. Sure, I'm always open to stuffing my face with some Fazer chocolate, but rn it would feel a bit 'meh'. It's nice not having sugar cravings 24/7 since I limited myself to one day of sweets a week. Otherwise just for exams to be over. And sleep!! 😵

God that's a lot of text, I'm incapable of restraint in writing 😂 tagging @aracloptia , @sevenmilliongoldfish & @sp-aace if you'd like to share! (no pressure though!!) 😊 Anyone else who wants to, feel free to join as well!

#maddie debrief

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lgcjaekyung · 1 year

Photo

DEBUT CAMP PART 2 ♥ SELF STUDY SOLO

“just keep grinding~ just keep grinding~”

jaekyung sat down with a deep sigh, lungs burning not from dance practice but the aching pressure on her chest that came with how real everything suddenly had become. she’d practiced her lines with having to rest her ankle for a bit and while she wanted to keep pushing, keep going just to see how long it’d take for her ligaments to snap, she knew that she had to be responsible for not herself but the others. especially areum was reliant on her making it into this season and doing well- potentially even debuting by her side.

being the pillar who was usually everyone else’s pillar was a blessing and a burden but right now jae wanted nothing but to run away, straight to vna’s dorms, bang on the door and beg keeho to take her back. for obvious reasons she couldn’t do that. so instead she banged the back of her head against the wall, eyes closing as she exhaled a husky sigh, voice rough from the practice.

the voice of a coach snapped her out of her thoughts, making her sit straighter, automatic smile curling over her lips as her walls snapped back into place. “oppa! fancy seeing you here! is it time for the interrogation already?” her voice is jesting as she tries to hide her whole form in her oversized sweater, fabric stretching out as her legs disappear beneath it, fully attempting to hide the bandage around the fragile skin of her bruised ankle.

“well young lady, I’m here to help, you know?” she giggles quietly into her knees, looking up sheepishly at the coach as he exhales a long sigh, clearly done with her antics. “so what do you think you’ve improved on the most?”

“my vocals,” she states without hesitation, not really able to be dancing much currently with the injury if she didn’t wanna completely out herself from the camp. a week could feel so very long- thank god they learned the lines before the dances. “when I joined future dreams and the camp, I never realized how good of a singer I seemed to be compared to everyone? I always only saw myself as maybe a notch up. never quite main vocal material to be honest,” she murmurs with a shrug. “but I’ve gotten so many challenging songs and lines that I really focused myself on executing them all well. I still enjoy rapping but I guess this is the calling bestowed upon me,” she questions with a cackle as the coach rolls his eyes at her.

“so is rap the one thing you feel like you wanna improve in more?”

“nah. I’ve given up on that for now. maybe when I... you know... if I do get into the next season and debut... maybe I’ll like work on it during schedule breaks. for now I want to work more on my performance and dancing. I think I could do better. I’ve been neglecting that a bit,” she continues, rubbing at the bandage carefully.

“so that’s what you think you’re lacking for debut?”

in lieu of an answer the girl just nods, humming in thought. this really felt all too real for her to wrap her head around still.

#lgc:debutbootcamp001 #solo: sequence;

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ashes-0f-phoenix · 2 years

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Year in review

Tfw

Be in a happy poly relationship with your long term partner and your best friend with benefits

Be schizophrenic with ptsd

Not at a stable place in recovery at all

Long term partner really loves the same fictional character as my past abuser who tried to rape and then stab me

Be triggered af by partner's love for the character but my love for my partner is stronger than my mental illness, right?

No it's not

Particularly bad ptsd episode, triggering topic of said character comes up, attack partner, beat him up, slam his head into the heater causing burns, then cry in his lap for several hours as he comforts me

Scared That I'll Eventually Fucking Kill Him .jpg

Hate myself, start distancing myself from him and eventually decide its best if I straight up ghost him

Still love him but block all of his concerned attempts to reach out to me, completely convinced that it's in our best interest

Stay close with other member of the relationship, get even closer, friends with benefits become romantic

Our ex partner is ostracized from our friend group (later find out he was so depressed he didn't leave the house for five months after I left him)

My new relationship is going great, we work together and travel a lot, distracted from past

New hopes and dreams, get further in recovery

Get engaged, plan to move abroad together, I replan my studies accordingly

Open relationship, she acquires a friend with benefits, we hang out together, it's nice, having the time of our lives

A homophobic bitch in our social circle we offended by idk what (being happy i guess) starts spreading rumour that my fiance is abusing me

What The Fuck .pdf

Am schizophrenic with ptsd so nobody believes me when I deny it

Relationship becomes tense as we can't stop our social circle from ostracizing my fiance on account of baseless claims, I get increasingly paranoid while hanging out with friends

Drug fueled panic attack on a night out, travel two hours, show up in my ex's doorway unannounced in the middle of the night as my brain somehow located that as a place of safety instead of literally dozens of options that were closer

He is not overjoyed to say the least

Makes me sit down and watch cartoons till I calm down and fall asleep

Lowkey reconcile or at least stop outright hating eachother after that, sometimes meet at events and friendly chats

Still miss him but I'm happy now and he's happy by himself and wouldn't want to get back together

School exam season, stop going out with my fiance and friends for a month, she's fine with it, she's busy with a new job anyway

By the time I get back, find the rumour campaign went far enough to turn entire social circle against me, my fiance ghosted me, and nobody is willing to tell me why I'm supposedly suddenly a horrible person

Find out second hand that my now ex fiance moved in with her friend with benefits and refuses to talk to me, wtf, heartbroken

Replan studies, can't move abroad alone, replan whole life basically

Ex partner tells me that my ex fiance tried to reconcile with him and claimed that I ruined their relationship and they should become close again now that they finally ditched me. He denies offer because wtf, he's not gonna be friends with someone just so they can hate me together

God bless him for having common sense and respect

We agree that we both miss each other terribly but even though I am now very well in my recovery he says he wouldn't be able to trust me again and he is still so scarred from the way I acted towards him and the way I left him that he doubts his ability to ever have a romantic relationship with anyone again, which is like... fair

Crushing Guilt .webp

Ex who I abused physically and verbally is now one of my three remaining friends

Am single for the first time since I was 15

War in neighboring country, crumbling local economy, dreams seem more distant by the day

All this happened over the course of one year

Fuck My Life, but gotta keep going

#personal rambles

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random-mha-thoughts · 2 years

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Burn (Bakugou x Reader)

Pairing: Bakugou x Reader

Genre: Angst, hurt/comfort

Summary: You've been going through a personal situation with someone, Bakugou makes a suggestion to help you feel better about it.

Word Count: 1978

Warnings: Broken relationships, burning things, DON'T TRY THIS AT HOME WITHOUT PROPER SAFETY PRECAUTIONS

Tags: @theyenvymarleyyy @yamichxn @liviitehe

A/N: So... I'm back with another story... I've been going through some stuff since winter and this was the best way I could vent some of my feelings out, so just let me have this please. I wrote it in like January and stepped away from it for months so I could edit it without being in that same emotional mindset, so I hope you guys enjoy it still!

"Babe, what are you doing?"

I hear his shuffling footsteps behind me as I'm rolling a small lump of dough in my hands. For a moment, I wince because I already know I'm going to get a lecture and Bakugo likes to get his full 9 hours of sleep like a responsible person. But I don't look at him, instead choosing to concentrate on getting just the right amount of dough into my hands. "I'm baking cookies," I answer simply.

He groans. "It's 4 in the morning, why the HELL are you baking cookies?"

I hesitate placing the balled dough on my kitchen scale for a beat before returning to my rhythm. There are so many ways to answer that question, many of them would worry him. Hell, they worry me. So many answers that would require an unraveling of complex emotions that I'd rather not think about, nor would I prefer to visit right now because I don't feel like crying in the middle of the kitchen at this time of night. But at the same time, the fact that I am making cookies at a nocturnal time is cause for worry.

It means it's getting bad. Again.

I sigh, plopping the neatly rolled up ball onto the baking sheet next to me. "Because I've lost control of my life." That's not a bad way to start, I guess.

Bakugou groans again - I can already see his head thrown back exasperatedly even with my back to him - and he approaches my workstation. His annoyed gaze darts between the bowl of cookie dough, the parchment paper lined kitchen scale, and the baking sheet. He studies me, crimson eyes narrowed in light disappointment. I don't even laugh nervously as I usually would. He sighs and turns to wash his hands. I continue portioning the dough out carefully, Bakugou taking his place next to me and helping me.

We work in silence. I know he's less than enthused about being woken up in the middle of his beauty sleep to do something like baking, but I'm pleased that he doesn't ask questions (yet).

Once the cookies are in the oven baking, we set the timer and Bakugou slides them in the oven before turning to me arms crossed. "So, you wanna tell me what's going on?"

Standing across from him, I needed to hold onto the cool countertop for support. I've been wondering how to tell him for a while. This argument I had with someone else had nothing to do with him, but he's the closest person to me. He deserves to know at least what's going on, I just didn't know how much I should tell him. There was a chance he'd think differently of me, knowing I have some ugly thoughts.

"Come on." His tone softens. "For the past few weeks, you've been more quiet, less talkative, you're spacing out more, you're doing some weird new things," he motions to the dirty dishes on the counter, "And Sundays are your designated going-out days but you've been skipping them. What's going on?"

I look down at the floor. "I've... just had a lot on my mind lately." It's not a complete lie.

"Obviously, it's something you're not telling me. I know you're not being totally honest. Spit it out."

The line about being honest triggers a wave of memories, sending a wave of melancholy chaos so brutal I slide down to the cold floor to stabilize myself, curling up into a ball. A fresh wave of sobs threatens to come out as I cover my mouth.

"W-Oh sh- Babe, I didn't mean to-"

"No, it's fine," I manage out shakily, my voice already higher and cracking. "I needed to tell you sometime and I've been neglecting you, I'm sorry." I motion for him to sit next to me, swallowing the rock in my throat.

I tell him everything. Every detail of my slow burn argument that lasted almost a whole week, starting from inciting events weeks ago to the climactic end last week. All my regrets, my mistakes, my anger, my insults, my self-doubt, my regrets, all the unspoken words I've kept to myself. Everything rushed out of me to the point where I was sobbing and shaking, Bakugou cradling me in his arms. I thought I would've been able to handle it, pushing it down for me to handle and process later, but later never came because I was trying to delay facing them. My fear of showing him the innermost darkest and broken parts of me that I thought would push him away. I realize I'm more of a mess than I thought I was; I let it build up by myself until I became a sobbing mess on the kitchen floor.

Katsuki stays silent, running his warm hands up and down my back and listening to everything I had to say, even if they weren't exactly coherent from the sobs.

"I knew something was wrong when you suddenly stopped going out and never told me anything." He pauses thoughtfully. "It must be hard to deal with mean thoughts since you're the nicest person I've met, but having them every once in a while doesn't suddenly make you a villain or something. They just come from feeling something, it's just human nature." He pulls back to look at me and wipe the tear trails off my face. "I still love you. I'm here for you, I won't leave just because you want to insult someone who hurt you. I think it's pretty hot, actually."

I manage a giggle, another tear falling. "Of course you would think that."

He wipes it away with the pad of his finger and smiles at me. "You're my superhero. I'm sorry you're feeling this way. I'll do anything I can to help you through this, if you'll let me. I know how hard it was to tell me."

I huddle against his chest, sitting between his legs to catch as much warmth as I can by hugging his arm over me. "You know, I didn't want to think about my feelings for so long. I wanted to ignore them as much as I could because I thought they were bad. I thought ignoring them meant being able to move on. I ran away from them until I was baking cookies at 4 am just to distract myself. I just... want to face them and be done with them."

"So burn 'em."

I stop tracing the back of his hand. "What?"

"Burn them. Y'know, like how spies burn important documents that they don't want other people finding."

I stare at him blankly. "What are you trying to say?"

Katsuki sighs. "You're the kind of person who needs to get things off your chest or it'll eat you alive. I know you still have a lot to say that you can't tell me, so just write what you feel. No sugarcoating. Exactly how you want to say them. And then, once it's out of your system," he snaps his fingers and creates a mini explosion for effect, "Burn it. No one else has to know."

The idea sounds perfect. I can be completely honest to myself, no matter how childish or insulting I will probably sound. And maybe some of my anger will be quelled by some form of destruction, I guess.

"You're doing the burning though, since you're so used to it."

A week later, Katsuki and I stood outside in our concrete backyard in the dark night. There was no wind to bother the fire or make a sound. I huddle close to him, looking at the inked looseleaf in my hand.

The night I wrote these words, I was angry and vulnerable. Hesitant to start at first, I could stop myself after the first sentence. My thoughts barely echoed in my mind as they were reproduced on paper. The experience was in a limbo between autopilot robotic reproduction and furious out-of-body possession. The only thing I vaguely remember is how rhythmic the words flowed out of me and the red-tinted vision of me screaming them out into an abyss without consequence. I couldn't even recall anything I'd written, despite the same insults dangling behind my tongue for days. I felt lighter, freed, but afraid of what I might've said. I tucked the paper away without reading it for days.

It wasn't until a few hours earlier that I decided to revisit them. The person's voice was furious, almost like they were never allowed to speak before, but now they had free reign. This person was a prisoner standing on their field to be executed and desperate to have their last words heard before they croaked. Honestly, I would've been repulsed, only pitying them for their terrible decisions and upbringing that led them here. But these were mine. I'm the villain who had to take accountability.

I wish I could say I didn't mean them, but I wrote them, my intent is obvious. At least I can say I'm not proud of them. I said what I needed to say, now no one needs to see them. I'm going to let that side of me go.

Katsuki takes the paper from my hand. "Not gonna lie, this would be the first time I've intentionally set fire to something."

I raise an eyebrow. "You're telling me you've never tried to set fire to something before?"

He opens his mouth to object, but then closes it. "Okay, stupid drunk things don't count, I was under the influence." He takes a breath. "You ready?"

I nod, bracing myself.

The bottom of the paper erupts into a single brilliant flame, sending my heart into a frenzy at my instant danger reflex. My body tenses being this close to fire, but I relax as I focus on the bigger, beautiful picture. A weak halo surrounding us and illuminating the pavement, the spotless paper being consumed quickly, the flames ascending up and leaving charr in its place, the gradient of a blue base bleeding into blinding yellow and white outlined by an orange border. I watch as my messily scrawled words disappear like a dark curtain sweeping across it, rendering it useless as only the smell of smoke and ash take its place.

I embrace his free arm. Words wouldn't be enough to describe how grateful I am for him standing by me this entire time, supporting me, being available for me to open up to him, being my safe space, witnessing this with me.

The timeless moment bitterly ends as the last of the paper chars to black, the flame fizzling out into blue until only dark grey smoke remains in the darkness. I follow the trail up into the night sky as if hoping to catch a glimpse of my words flying away.

"You okay babe?" Katsuki whispers, not wanting to disturb the stillness.

I let my body relax. My chest feels strangely lighter but filled with a newfound relief. Is this what spiritual cleansing feels like? The darkness around me is almost dreamlike. "Yeah," I breathe, allowing myself a moment to come back down. "I feel much better."

"And now you understand the joy of setting things on fire." I can hear his smirk.

The punch I want to land on his face turns into a light tap on his arm as I snuggle closer to him. "Thank you for this."

Katsuki plants a kiss on top of my forehead and his arm engulfs around me. "It's the least I can do to help."

As we finally drag ourselves inside, I imagine the paper that's just burned in front of me, the inked words on it already forgotten. I'm satisfied with letting them go, knowing they can't hurt anyone else and I wasn't attached to them enough to be sad.

Whatever I wrote will be a secret even I don't know and what I set free.

#bakugou x reader #my hero academia #boku no hero academia #bakugou katsuki #bakugou angst #hurt/comfort #gender neutral reader #bakugou imagine #bakugou scenario #mha bakugou #bnha bakugou #mha fanfiction #bnha fanfiction #mha x reader #bnha x reader

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imtooscaredforthis · 3 years

Text

Unknown Caller

Ghostface x Reader Smut

Summary: Late at night, you start getting texts from the serial killer and your stalker, Ghostface.

Mentions of: Threats, Death, Stabbing, Sexting, Phone sex, Knife play, Oral Sex, Voyeurism, Recording w/out Consent and Danny being super horny

Word Count: 2.4K

With an exhausted groan, you collapsed back onto your bed, letting the mattress suck you in. It had been yet another long, shitty work day, leaving you mentally drained and wanting to sleep.

The only thing that kept you from sleeping was how gross, sticky, and sweaty you felt from walking around in that shitty waitress uniform. It was a summer day in Florida, after all. Of course you would be burning your ass off. And somehow, the urge to take a shower overpowered your fatigue.

So after an extra moment or two of laying down, you got up, grabbing your phone and a towel, heading into the bathroom and locking the door behind you, just in case any unwelcome visitors came in. You knew exactly who that visitor was.

You tried to shake the thought of the masked murderer, not even daring to think his name. The last thing you needed tonight was having him come around. Maybe he would just give you a break for once and leave you alone. Maybe…

Sighing, you tapped at your phone, playing some music and stripping down. Stepping into the shower, you turned the heat all the way up, letting the hot water pour down onto your skin until it turned red. You washed off all the stress and trouble from the day, finally being able to relax.

Once you got out of the shower, you slipped on a black lacy bra with matching panties, using a robe to cover it up. You had grown used to spending the nights alone, with no one to take home, no friends to speak with.

You lost them all, since they all thought you were being crazy and paranoid about being stalked by Ghostface. Even after one of your dear friends died, (the only one who believed you) they still thought you were crazy. In fact, they thought you killed him. And the cops were no help either, thinking all the threats were just some prankster or copycat.

So now, here you sat on your bed, scrolling through social media, when you got a text.

Unknown: Evening, gorgeous

You stared at the message blankly, feeling your heart drop in your stomach. It was him.

You cast a protective glance over at your bedroom window, which had the curtains drawn and the blinds shut, as an attempt of giving yourself some sort of privacy from the stalker. Was he out there? Waiting outside the window to peek, or behind your door to jump out at you. Even though he’s been doing this for a while, you’d still never get used to it.

Swallowing the lump in your throat, you began to type up a message to respond to him. You learned the hard way to answer his texts and calls.

(Y/N): What do you want to torture me with now?

Even though you were still quite afraid of the killer, there were times where you found him a complete nuisance, and got the guts to told him. This was one of those times.

Unknown: C’mon, don’t be like that. I have fun with the games we play. But I want to try something different tonight.

(Y/N): Like what?

Unknown: Like how I can see what you’re wearing and can’t help but wonder if you put all of that on just for me

You felt your face go a bright red, looking around and grabbing the hem over your robe, moving it over, attempting to cover up your body.

Unknown: There’s no use in covering it up now, I’ve already seen everything and it’s gotten me so hard

Looking at the text, you blinked a few times, making sure this was real. Maybe it was just some weird sex dream. You pinched yourself. Nope. This was real. The feared serial killer of Roseville was sexting you.

Unknown: You look so cute like that, all surprised and scared, it makes me want to cut you up and fuck you until you can’t walk.

Unknown: You’d like that, wouldn’t you?

Your mouth went dry as you tried to think of something to text him back with, your body running hot with arousal. You can’t believe this is turning you on. It really shouldn’t be.

Unknown: There’s no need to be so shy, (y/n). You know we can be honest with each other.

(Y/N): Yes I would

Unknown: Good girl

Unknown: My cock is just throbbing thinking about how nice and tight you would be, how good you would squeeze me, how I’d love to fill you up with my cum. And you’d love every second of it, wouldn’t you, baby?

(Y/N): Fuck yes

You rubbed your thighs together, feeling how drenched you were getting, a silent moan leaving your lips, not even realizing he was paying attention to every little detail.

Unknown: Shit, that was so hot. I’m really turning you on, aren’t I?

Unknown: You want to touch yourself don’t you? Want to get off on the dirty things I’m telling you? Well you can’t. Not unless you beg for it like a good girl.

You would object, but you knew you were too far in to stop yourself. It had been quite a long time since you had done something like this, and a part of you felt desperate. So, you did it. You begged.

(Y/N): Please, Ghostface. Please let me touch myself.

Unknown: Good. Go ahead, but take off that robe. You won’t be needing it.

Moving your arm out, you shrugged the robe off your shoulders, spreading your legs ever so slightly. Might as well give him a show.

You ran your hand down your stomach, moving it down to your hips, and then your thigh, while your other hand stayed high on your chest, running your finger over your clothed nipple. After a moment or two, you dipped your finger under the fabric, running it up and down your drenched slit. You played with your clit, leaning back and moaning softly.

Unknown: Fuck, I just want to run my knife all over the curves of your body

Unknown: Put two fingers in

You did as told, pushing two fingers into your opening, thrusting them in slowly. You didn’t even notice the distant flash of a camera recording you peeking out from behind your window.

You shut your eyes, biting your lip and arching your back, as you began to pick up the pace. The sound of your phone chiming managed to make you open your eyes, and snap out of your little fantasy, looking down at your phone.

Unknown: You look so fucking hot right now, I want to come in there and ruin you

(Y/N): Why don’t you?

Unknown: It’s tempting, but I need to do one thing first.

Unknown Number is calling…

You picked up, slowing your fingers. “Why’d you- why’d you stop?” He questioned between groans, his voice strained. So he was touching himself too.

“I didn’t know if you wanted me to-”

“Keep on going. Don’t stop. Add a finger.” He instructed.

An image of Ghostface stroking himself popped into your mind, making you pick up the pace. A string of mewls and whimpers left your mouth as you went even faster, feeling yourself grow close.

“You sound- shit, so nice babe. Makes me want to- even more-”

“Fuck, I’m g-going to- ah” Your body froze up, feeling yourself clench around your fingers.

It seemed like he was close too, considering how much he was panting, low groans and grunts. There was a brief silence on the other line, and you wondered if he hung up on you. But then, he spoke. “I’m coming in.”

He ended the call and you felt your heart leap in excitement, calming down from your high, and preparing for him to come in. You looked from the window to the door, wondering where he’d be entering.

A few minutes went by, and he still hadn’t shown up. A part of you wondered if this was some sort of sick game to humiliate you. If he was just going to leave you all alone.

“Miss me?” A familiar voice whispered into your ear, making you jump.

“Jesus don’t scare me like that.” You muttered, turning to face him.

“Why so grumpy? Is it because I kept you waiting? So impatient, so needy. I love it.” He grasped your chin, tilting your head and making you look up at him. He ran a gloved finger over your lips, tracing your cupid’s bow.

You felt your body grow hot at the contact, your thighs clenching together. He noticed, moving his hand away to finally give you what you so desperately craved. Grabbing your shoulders, he pushed you down on the bed, straddling you.

Slowly, he ran his knife over your skin, tracing it from your throat, down to your collar bones, and to your chest. It seemed he was being merciful tonight, because you could barely feel the blade against your skin, only a light tickle.

Moving his weapon to the middle of your chest, Ghostface sliced open your brassiere, splitting it in half and revealing your breasts. Well, there went your good underwear.

He ran his finger over your nipple, watching it harden under his touch, pinching it softly. The killer studied your expressions closely, taking in every single detail. The way your lips parted slightly, the way your cheeks heated up, and the way your eyebrows knitted together. God, you were so adorable.

Ghostface shifted his attention to your panties, cutting them off on the side, and pulling them down to your ankles slowly. He moved his hand back up to your opening, running his finger up your wet slit, feeling how soaked it was.

“So wet, all for me? I must’ve really left you waiting. Guess I better get to it then, huh?” His voice was smug, low, and full of mischief. You knew he was playing with you.

He rutted against his hips against you, making you whimper slightly. You knew he wouldn’t do anything, until you said it. “Please, fuck me, Ghostface.”

“Danny.”

You felt your eyes widen at his words. “What?”

“Call me Danny.” In all the time that you had known him, you never got a name out of him. But he was telling you it now. Why? Why was he doing this?

You were too busy processing what just happened to notice the sound of his buckle clicking, and his knife dropping onto the floor, while he was now holding his phone instead. The flash of a camera burned into your eyes, making you look up at him and snap out of your thoughts.

“What’re you doing?” You asked, squinting at the light and covering your eyes with one hand trying to hide the glare.

“Makin a little movie.” He grabbed your hands with his free one, moving them from your face and pinning them above your head. “And you’re the star. Aren’t you excited?”

“I- shit-” Before you could even respond to what he was saying, you felt his cock press up against your soaked folds.

He moved his camera down to your breasts, watching your chest heave, before moving it back up to your face. “Now what’s the magic word? C’mon, you know what to say. You’ve been saying it all night.”

“Please, Danny.” You begged, bucking your hips up against his hardened member. “Please what?”

“Please just fuck me.” You rolled your head against the pillow. He was driving you crazy at this point with how much he was teasing you and making you beg.

Finally, he gave you what you had grown desperate for, entering you with a rough thrust. It was painful at first, the killer not showing any mercy, but you forced yourself to grow used to it.

You moaned out, the feeling of fulfillment overcoming your already sensitive hole. You arched your back, grabbing onto his forearm, digging your nails into his muscle under his robe.

Tears began to stream down your face as you babbled, incoherent words slipping from your lips. It was too good, and you couldn’t think of something, anything, to say to describe it. He was fucking you stupid.

He zoomed in on your tears, watching as your eyes rolled to the back of your head. “Damn, baby. Is it really that good? Do you love getting fucked by my cock that much?”

You didn’t speak, not even sure if you could. He pinched your nipple, making you yelp. “Y-yes! Its- it’s so g-good.”

Danny moved his free hand to your clit, thrusting even deeper, until he hit just at the right spot. You cried out, clenching around him. Moaning out for him to please never stop, to keep going.

“Oh baby, you think I could stop? Not with the way you’re clenching around and calling out my name, begging for- shit.” He grunted, feeling your walls begin to massage him, you were getting close. And so was he.

He nestled his head into the crook of your neck and shoulder, pulling his mask up his face, and biting down, breaking your skin and drawing your blood, his movements growing even harsher. While you dug your nails into his back, reaching your orgasm, Danny not too far behind.

The half-masked killer wiped the blood from his lips, grinning down at you. “There, I marked you as mine. You’re my little slut, got it? Say it.”

You nodded, eyes still shut, your mouth open with only moans and gasps escaping. You forced yourself to speak, voice all hoarse and raw. “I’m your slut, Ghostface- Danny- whatever, I’m all yours.”

“That’s it. Such a good girl. Fuck-” His thrusts grew sloppy, and he rubbed at your clit even harder, making you climax once again with him. He pulled out, releasing on your stomach, and ending the video.

He pressed a rough kiss to your lips, before readjusting his mask, cleaning himself off, and fixing his clothes up. All the while you laid there, nude, panting, and coming down from the intense high you just had. You felt another flash blind your eyes, and the sound of a camera clicking, knowing he just took another picture.

Moving aside your curtains and blinds, Ghostface unlocked your window, pulling it up and stepping through. “This was fun. Let’s do it again sometime. See you soon.”

#dbd #dead by deadlight #dbd x reader #dbd killer #ghostface dbd #dbd ghostface #ghostface #ghostface x reader #dbd jed olsen #jed olsen #danny johnson dbd #dbd danny #danny johnson #smut tag

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luveline · 3 years

Text

summer shower [Fred Weasley x reader]

Summary: Fred makes your asthma play up.

Tags: reader-insert, fluff, friends-to-lovers, pining, mutual pining

word count: 1.3k

When you were just turning 21 years old, you met a boy. He was in his third year to your second of university, funny as could be, and beautiful.

Fred Weasley was a man of many secrets, which you'd come to accept the longer you'd known him. You had no idea where he was from, where his parents lived, or even if he had any family. You didn't know where he'd gone to school before this. You certainly didn't know why he liked pumpkin pie so much!

There were many things you did know.

His eyes turned from brown to almost black in the sun, superheated and lovely. He squinted one eye against the sun when you lounged in the courtyards in an endearing attempt to always keep an eye on your face. He never crushed flowers when he walked and he always trapped spiders in a cup with a piece of card instead of killing them, seeming endlessly bemused at the small creatures.

It was a warm summers day. You were trying your hardest not to smile as he lay in the grass. Your friends had all departed, claiming headaches and essays that needed to be submitted, though you thought these were all just white lies to allow you some alone time.

It didn't matter. No amount of free time would finish the game between the two of you. Well, you hoped it was a game: Fred pretended he didn't fancy you and you pretended you didn't fancy him.

You shared a tenderness with him that was unlike any relationship in your life.

He was smirking up at you.

"What?" You asked, pouting playfully.

"You look like you're trying to solve world hunger," he said through a grin.

You shook your head, fixing your gaze back down on the book in your lap.

"Maybe one day," you said without looking up.

Fred laughed. It was a perfect laugh, infectious and happy. You smiled despite your best efforts not to.

The pages were thin between your fingers, almost a thousand condensed into a 3 inch textbook for your course. The tip of your pencil rested against the page, though sometimes it felt appropriate to bring it to your mouth, contemplative. Fred watched silently as you underlined and questioned the subject, only quirkiness an eyebrow as your frustration became obvious.

"I don't understand," you admitted finally, "how that is relevant to anything. Look at this!"

You poked your pencil angrily at the figure in question. Fred's eyebrows creased as he tried to make sense of what he was seeing.

"Doll, you know I don't understand a lick of it."

You sighed, closing the textbook mournfully. It didn't surprise you that Fred couldn't understand, you couldn't understand and you were actually taking the course for the last two and a half years. He was doing a completely different subject.

You threw yourself down flat, much too close to where Fred himself lay on the grass, knocking the air out of your lungs. You tried not to get too wound up, worried any agitation would cause a flare up.

You'd had a very bad asthma attack only a few days ago and had spent a day or two feeling very fragile and sorry for yourself. You didn't want a repeat.

The grass was cold and a little damp from the early morning dew.

You nibbled at your lip, searching the sky for something it couldn't give.

Fred was watching you.

"Oh my god! What do you want, you hooligan?"

Fred rolled his eyes. "You looked at me."

"You were looking at me!"

"Doesn't sound true. Falsehoods of such a nature are unkindly and uncouth."

"You're uncouth!"

"Yeah?" Fred asked, eyes hot.

Your mouth dried up. He was especially tempting like this, looking all homegrown and hand spun. His hair was lightened by the sun cover, strawberry blonde against his tanned and freckled face. Tanned now only after months of suffering sun burn miserably.

"I know what you're thinking." He said. You paid close attention to his mouth.

"Which is?"

"How did I get to be so devilishly handsome? Honestly, it's a question I ask myself often."

You withheld the urge to turn your face into the earth and scream.

He wasn't entirely wrong. You had been thinking about his good looks.

"How did you know?" You asked. You'd tried for bravado, for sarcasm, but it came out wrong. A little too sincere. You cleared your throat.

Fred pushed up onto an elbow so that he was looking down into your face. He studied the slope of your nose and the laugh lines you'd slowly gathered since meeting him. He reached forward, too slowly, to place the pads of his fingers gently on your cheek. You could pinpoint the exact moment he rested his palm on your skin.

He smiled gently. You beamed.

"Can I ask you something?"

You tried to read his face, preemptively guess the question.

"When do you ask my permission?"

"It's the kind of thing that requires two consenting parties."

Your mouth quirked into a waiting grin. Fred's ears grew red.

"Not that."

"Fred Weasley, embarassed. Somebody call the news."

He didn't answer, pushing the hair out of your face in a repetitive motion that sent tingles down your spine and a hot flush to your tummy.

You tried not to read into it, closing your eyes against the waves of excitement and happiness roiling through you. You didn't permit yourself to think of what it meant, because what else could it mean? Friends don't do the things you both did. Friends didn't gaze down into your face with unspoken feelings.

You lay there for some time, the excitement slowly turning to bone deep contentment, feeling yourself drift into an almost sleep. The breeze was soft and sweet, the ground beneath you cushioned by grass, and the handsome man hovering above you only sweetened the deal.

"Y/N?"

"Hmm," you said, tilting your chin to prompt him to continue.

"Will you look at me a second?

You opened your eyes obligingly.

"I wanted to ask you, do you -"

He cut himself off, peering up into the sky. You frowned, only to feel the unwelcome spatter of heavy sudden rain drops on your face.

You gasped, rushing to collect all of your things into your bag. Your textbook was already dampening by the time you'd fit it all. Fred pulled you up and began to run. You followed, laughing and struggling to be heard over the summer shower.

By the time you reached his dorm building, both of you were breathing hard. Fred said something through a laugh. You struggled to answer, hands on your knees.

"Y/N?"

Despite having asthma all your life and suffering many attacks, each time felt just as urgent and scary as the first.

Your eyes filled with tears.

"You're okay! You're okay. Where's your pump, huh? In your bag?"

He didn't wait for an answer, reaching into your bag as you gasped, though insistent on leaving one arm on your arm. The pressure was reassuring.

You tried to manage your breathing as you always did, gasping and gasping and gasping.

"Here, princess. Open up," Fred said.

You covered the hand he held your inhaler with your own, clamping down on his hand so hard you could feel the fine bones under his skin.

It took a while for you to settle down, thought this attack wasn't anywhere as bad as the one you'd had days ago.

"My hero," you coughed out, lungs aching.

Fred grimaced. "I'll always rescue you, my femme fatale."

"Misogynist."

"You have paper lungs, my love."

"That I do, Freddie. That I do."

Fred rubbed your back, insisting on carrying you up the steps to his dorm room. If you acted much more frail than you felt, it was nobodies business but yours and Fred's.

#fred weasley x reader #fred weasley imagine #fred weasley fanfic #fred weasley #fred #x reader #reader insert #friends to lovers #mutual pining #harry potter imagine

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russiandoll-from-brooklyn · 3 years

Text

Just Once - Part 2

Title: Just Once - Part 2

Some of y'all were asking for Part 2 of Just Once so here ya go! This picks up right after the first story.

Pairing: Tony Stark x fem!reader

Summary: Grief and loneliness got the best of you last night. Your friendship with Tony was too precious to risk, and now all you want to do is move on. But what happens when the other party doesn't want to forget?

Warnings: smut, language, (technically) cheating, friends to lovers, mentions of past canon trauma, oral (f receiving), protected sex

Word Count: 5.1k

[Starts out sweet and all about tony x reader friendship, then turns into steamy Tony smut. Table sex, included. 😳]

---

Thump, thump, thump.

Your feet hit the pavement rhythmically as you jog your normal morning route. It’s a misty Seattle morning, and the world is still quiet. The sun is rising sleepily, beginning to bathe the world in gold. All is well.

Except. It isn’t.

You turn the block corner, and your apartment comes into sight. You take a glance down at your watch.

42 minutes.

That’s how long ago you had quietly slipped out of your apartment for your morning run. That’s how long it had been since your eyes shot open and you remembered the events of last night, rushing into your mind, all at once like a tsunami. You had turned your head to find Tony still asleep beside you in the bed. One leg sticking out of the messy sheets and his face buried in the pillow. Your pillow.

You had stared at him in disbelief, half-expecting him to disintegrate into a fleeting figment of your imagination. You had rubbed your eyes, trying to clear the haze.

Nope. Still there.

You silently curse yourself and your stupidity (see: weakness in the face of sexual temptation) for the 50th time this morning as you approach the brick building. Perhaps, when you reenter your apartment, Tony will be gone, and this will all have just been a bad trip — or something of the like.

Before you even open the door, the smell of frying bacon reaches your nose. You step inside and are greeted by a peculiar sight.

Tony Stark, clad in nothing but a pair of dark jeans, is buzzing about your small kitchenette. Simultaneously, there are eggs being flipped over-easy on the stovetop, orange juice being procured from the open fridge, bacon sizzling happily in a pan, and toast being buttered. You stand in amazement for a few seconds, processing the scene before you. The wonderful aroma of the all-American breakfast makes you mouth water.

“Y/N! Hey!” Tony exclaims when he sees you.

You slide onto a stool at the bar top, overlooking the controlled chaos unfolding in the kitchen area. Tony truly has remarkable skill when it comes to multitasking. You guess, all that time in the suit, operating about twenty computing systems at once, was good practice.

“Wow. Breakfast?” you remark, raising an eyebrow. “Since when do you cook?”

He scoffs, shooting you a brief smile before turning away to rapidly crack some black pepper onto the eggs.

“Cooking is easy. People think it’s a skill, but really it’s just planning, timing it out. It’s like assembling anything else. You just do the parts in order, trying not to break any yolks.”

You roll your eyes sarcastically at the classic “Tony” response.

Suddenly, all the components come crashing together, and Tony is setting down two perfectly assembled breakfast plates on the bar top — complete with a glass of orange juice for each of you. It looks delicious; it’s been way too long since you had a proper breakfast. Meaning, a breakfast that wasn’t cereal, a protein bar, or a bowl of sad, pale, scrambled eggs. You thank Tony as he pulls up the other stool to sit across from you.

“Dig in,” he says cheerfully, raising his fork. “Good run this morning?”

You nod, taking a big gulp of orange juice.

“Yeah, I heard you leaving,” Tony continues mindlessly. “Kind of weird waking up to an empty bed after a night like that. I finally know what it feels like to be on the other side, I guess.”

You nearly spit out your bite of toast. And just like that, reality comes crashing back down to earth. For a brief moment, it had felt like things could possibly come out normal on the other side. You and Tony could go back to being perfectly normal best friends.

How ignorant.

“What?” you remark incredulously.

You’re on the verge of laughter, partially out of amusement but mostly out of bewildered embarrassment.

Tony gives you his award-winning “I’m innocent!” raised-eyebrow expression. You suddenly become acutely aware of the situation. Tony Stark is sitting in your kitchen, shirtless, serving you breakfast. After you spent a far-from-platonic night rolling around your sheets together. You want to slap yourself.

“I’m talking about the incredible sex we had last night. And then, you leaving me alone before sunrise,” Tony explains casually, pushing your buttons further. “That's usually my play.”

He looks up at you, expecting a playful quip in return. Instead, you just slowly set down the fork you had been gripping.

“Tony,” you begin, seriously and calmly. “Let’s not talk about it. It was one night, and it won’t happen again. It was just once. We gave into the moment, but we shouldn’t-“

“The moment?” Tony suddenly blurts out, interrupting you. You purse your lips, surprised by the new and unexpected edge of anger in his voice. “God. Y/N. The moment, huh? You’re really just going to shrink it down to that. Just a moment.”

You stare at him, confused. Tony’s big brown eyes hold yours with an intensity. It's amazing how fast his sarcastic, playful tone can morph into ferocity. You want to look away, break his gaze, but you can’t. This whole thing was a mistake.

“It was fun,” you finally say. “But it was just a fuck. We were lonely.”

“You know, Y/N. You’re so damn smart,” Tony replies, leaning back a bit in his seat. “So, why do you always try and kid yourself? It bothers me. I know -- that you know -- that this wasn’t just a fuck.”

Your mind races through a million different responses.

Then, what was it?

What do you mean?

Why are you acting like this?

I'm not kidding myself.

But something tells you, deep down, that there's nothing you can say that won't lead to something you don't want to hear.

So, instead, you angrily snatch up your glass of orange juice, rising from your seat at the bar. You grit your teeth at Tony one more time before turning your back and striding toward to your study. You feel your cheeks burning hot.

The study is a second living room-sized space where you keep all your projects. Early sunlight is now streaming in through the large windows, falsely giving the impression of a peaceful Saturday morning. The large wooden table tops are littered with wires, microchips, and other electronic parts. When you first met the Avengers year ago, you and Tony butted heads over your shared expertise in technology and robotics. After much bickering and trying to outdo each other, you eventually accepted one another's intelligence and bonded over your shared field.

You look to the floor of your large study to see the air mattress you had set up there prior to Tony's arrival yesterday, obviously still pristine. You squeeze your eyes shut. Your apartment is absolutely dripping with reminders of last night's events. The empty whiskey glasses, still sitting on the side table in the living room. The couch pillows crumpled from the weight of your bodies, hungrily crashing together above them. You don't even want to think about your bedroom, where you're sure Tony's missing shirt is strewn on the ground.

You push the thoughts out of your your mind, pulling up a seat at your work table. You start to fiddle with a new lightweight shoulder pauldron you're currently designing. You can feel yourself going into 'shut-out' mode, trying your hardest to focus all your attention on the metal in your hands. This was all too much. This was all wrong.

When you hear footsteps behind you, entering the study, you ignore it. Tony quietly traverses the floor, coming to pull up a chair on the other side of the work table. He silently watches you working the wires into place. You don't look up. You don't have to see his expression to know the contemplative expression undoubtably painted on his face. You also don't have to look at him to know he's pondering more than just your work.

"You know, aluminum-titantium alloy won't hold up after a few heavy hits," Tony comments, nodding to the armor piece.

"I'm gonna chromatize it," you reply dryly, not looking up from your hands.

"I wouldn't bother. You can't just give everything a shiny coat to hold it together. If the problem is underneath, that is."

Fuck Tony and his fucking metaphors.

You growl angrily, throwing the pauldron down in frustration. You sit back in your seat and cross your arms, finally meeting your friend's eyes.

"Ok, fine," you say matter-of-factly. "Let's talk about it. It was good. It was really fucking good. And we both needed it. But that's it. I'm willing to leave it at that and forget about it if you are."

Tony rubs his beard in his palm, seemingly mulling over your words. His brown eyes don't leave yours. The warm sunlight coming in through the window behind him paints yellow patches on his bare shoulders, bathing him in gold. You take a mental picture of him, sitting there in his thoughts. A brief, intrusive thought passes through your mind, threatening that this could be the last time you see him. You immediately banish the notion. This friendship means too much to you. Not even a fuck-up as big as this one could make you want to toss it away. You hope Tony agrees.

"Help me understand where your head's at, Y/N," Tony finally replies. "What is your biggest concern right now? Wait, listen, I know there's a lot of reasons why last night was bad. But I want to know what you're thinking."

You sigh, uncrossing your arms. As much as Tony's 'list-and-analyze' reaction to crisis could be annoying, in some ways, it comforted you. Tony is impulsive, yes, but those who know him best also know his calculative nature: the mental risk assessments, the contingency plans labelled through Z. Always searching for the route that will hurt everyone the least. Always.

You consider his question carefully. Again, there's a million answers: the risk of ruining your friendship, the potential awkwardness, Pepper -- oh, god, Pepper --, the pain and grief you've both been through in the past few years. You close your eyes and pick one.

"You're one of the only people left that I trust. One of my only friends. Complexity doesn't often end well."

"You're right," Tony admits. "But aren't you the one who asked, 'is it wrong to not want to be alone'?"

You scoff loudly, angered by his using your words against you. However, that bitterness melts away into nothing when you see the heart-wrenching expression on Tony's face. His lips are pursed, and his eyes are searching yours desperately. Tony rarely shows outward weakness, but right now, the man before you isn't Iron Man. The man before you is broken. Someone who has tried everything to hold it -- his sanity, his relationship, his life -- together, to save the people he loves, to be strong. Someone who failed at that. Someone who truly felt alone.

You rest your chin in your palms and sigh, the weight falling over you as well.

Finally, you speak.

"Isn't it awful -- and strange -- how it can feel like a lifetime ago and just yesterday at the exact same time?"

Tony nods sadly at your observation. Of course, you were talking about the snap. About Thanos.

"You're right. About everything," he remarks. "Sometimes, it just gets too much. The...”

Loneliness. You finish his sentence in your head.

“Me too.”

“You should know though,” Tony continues. “I would never stop being your friend. No matter how complex things are. This — what we’ve been through — could never change, Y/N.”

There it is.

Some situations feel like you're running in circles; you're spiraling downwards and everything you say only makes matters worse and worse. It feels like sinking in quicksand with no way out. In every one of those situations, there's a key -- that one sentence, that one idea, that effortlessly clears the fog. This was it. Tony is going to be here, always. Everything is going to be alright.

You straighten up a bit in your seat. You let out a long sigh and give Tony a small smile.

"I know," you assure your friend. "Sometimes I forget everything that's happened. How complicated it's been before. How we made it out."

Tony laughs, and you're relived.

"How could you forget? It's been a wild ride."

The two of you grin at each other. You take a sip of your orange juice, which you had forgotten about and was now lukewarm.

"OK, happy?" you inquire with a playful tone. "Base material fixed. No need for shiny coats of anything. We're solid now."

Tony lets out a hearty chuckle at the stupid analogy. Suddenly, he stands, circling the work table until he's right in front of you. You suck in a breath of oxygen. From your seated position, your head only comes up to his abs. Bare abs, that is. You tilt your face upwards to meet his eyes.

"Y/N," he says gently. “Stand up.”

Confused, you rise to your feet. Before you can open your mouth to say anything else, Tony’s lean and muscular arms are wrapped around you. He pulls you into his chest, embracing you in his warmth. His grip is firm, as if he’s afraid you might run away. You soften into the hug, wrapping your arms around his back. You feel safe.

After a few moments, Tony releases you. However, he doesn’t move away, and the two of you are still nearly chest-to-chest. You peer up at him, and your friend’s warm toffee eyes meet yours.

“Wow, a Tony Stark hug?” you remark sarcastically. “I should play the lotto today.”

Tony chuckles under his breath. Despite your joking, it was true that Tony rarely gives hugs. He just isn’t the touchy-feely type — according to himself. Somehow this gesture, right now, meant everything. A hug was the most intimate thing Tony could have given you. It was a seal, a mark saying ‘I meant every word I just said.’

Tony is still standing directly in front of you, so close there’s only a magazine’s width between you. He’s so near that you can feel the warmth of his steady breathing, and the slight radiating heat from the arc reactor in his chest. Suddenly, you feel that familiar tug in your stomach. A rush of blood downwards...

“Tony-“

“Do you want me?” Tony cuts you off. His voice is low, gentle.

You suck in a breath of air at his words. Despite his directness, there's a detectable edge of nervousness in his tone. You smile internally at knowing you have this effect on Mr. Playboy. The slight uncertainty in Tony's voice also tells you that it's true: this is different. Last night was not just a mindless fuck. This is an understanding, wrapped around a mutual care that runs so deep that it burns.

You don’t even try to convince yourself that you don’t want Tony. Every ounce of your being is screaming to close the gap between you. You can still hear the scientist-logic-brain in you resisting, but your heart feels at ease. You and Tony. A concept that felt like the forbidden fruit itself just ten minutes ago now looked more like an oasis. And oasis that was maybe alright to take a drink from every once in a while.

You snake one hand upward to hold his cheek. Tony pushes gently into your palm.

It's you who leans in first. When your lips collide, it's soft. He presses himself into you, a delicate sigh escaping. You pull back just enough to whisper a breathy "I want you."

And oh, god do you want him.

“Then, have me,” Tony whispers back, gently.

You nearly visibly shiver. Any trace of hesitation is gone from his voice now. His words are demanding, but his tone is more of a plea.

“Do you want to go the bedroom?”

“No,” Tony replies immediately. He’s breathless. “Right here.”

You immediately feel wetness drop into your panties. Tony’s eyes have grow darker, as they bear down at you. The intensity makes your legs feel weak. You need him. He needs you.

In a moment of boldness, you bring your hands down to the hemline of your shirt. You lift the garment up and over your head, placing it on the work table beside you. Tony’s eyes wander to your red sports bra and your now-stiffened nipples showing through the sleek fabric.

In the next breath, Tony is suddenly kissing you again, his lips against yours in a desperate hunger. He brings his large, roughly calloused hands to your waist. He firmly grips your body, making you feel tiny in his hold. You let a small moan escape your lips.

Still holding you in his grasp, Tony starts to walk you backwards until your backside is pressed against the edge of your large work table. Tony’s hips press forward into you, making you gasp with excitement. You fingertips tangle in his hair, just wanting more and more and more...

In an effortless movement, Tony lifts your sports bra over your head. He throws the red fabric to the side, neither of you caring where it lands. Tony breaks away from your lips, starting to kiss down your cheek, jaw, and then finally giving attention to the delicate skin on your neck. Again, he’s careful not to nip or suck too hard to leave marks. The light scratching of his facial hair contrasts with the soft wetness of Tony’s lips, making you throw your head back in pleasure.

He continues to attend to your neck and jaw as one of his jean-clad thighs moves to fall between your legs. You let out a deep groan as Tony begins to rub and and roll his knee forward, stimulating your clothed core. His movements are like a wave, every forward crest bringing you a tiny bit of that friction your body wants so, so much. You’re in awe of the control Tony has over his movements and the effortless pleasure he’s capable of giving. You can’t help but find his experience and expertise sexy.

“Y/N,” Tony breathes against your neck. “Say it again. Please. Say you want me.”

It occurs to you that, aside from last night, Tony hasn’t felt wanted in a long time. Like, truly wanted. A pang of sadness fills your heart.

“Tony. I want you,” you declare, making sure the conviction in your voice shines through. You don’t have to try. You desire him more than anything right now. “I want you. I want this.”

With your words, Tony moans deeply into your jawline and begins to move his leg between yours more vigorously. Your fingertips trace over his bare back muscles. You trail your hands upward, into the nape of his neck, massaging his scalp. Everything about his beautiful form fits perfectly in your hands.

Tony continues moving downwards, soon finding your right nipple in his mouth. You arch your back, letting a loud moan escape your lips. He works your nipple expertly, rolling it and playing at it with his tongue. He alternates to your other nipple, his thumb replacing where his mouth just left. He lightly strokes the hard, spit-slick bud, and the combination of coolness and friction is heaven.

Tony stands back up, and a second later, his hands are at the elastic band of your running shorts. His eyes meet yours for a moment, silently asking for your permission. You nod a bit too eagerly, and Tony cracks a small, teasing smile. You scoff and lightly slap his shoulder, returning the smile.

Tony pulls your shorts down in one swift motion, leaving you in just your underwear. Next thing you know, Tony’s arms are around your waist. You let out a soft, surprised squeal as he lifts you effortlessly to sit on the edge of the work table behind you. Slightly elevated now, you come to about the same height as Tony.

“Hey,” you protest playfully. “Be careful. There’s important stuff here.”

Tony reaches behind you to clear the area, moving your half-finished projects and parts to the side.

“My apologies, Ms. Y/L/N,” he replies with a huge grin. “Got a bit carried away.”

You pull him into another deep kiss. He growls with pleasure when you nip at his bottom lip. Tony is now standing between your knees, his torso pressing gently into your panty-covered pussy. You can feel his erection through his jeans, straining against his clothes. After seeing Tony’s length for the first time last night, the mental image of his cock — just a few millimeters away from your core — is enough to make you drool. You wrap your legs around him, pulling him in harder against you. He moans into your mouth, and you feel the vibrations as your tongues tangle together.

You feel Tony’s body leaning forward, slowly coaxing you to lay down on the table. Now fully on your back, Tony’s above you, taking in the sight of your body.

“Has anyone ever told you that you’re the most magnificent creature on Earth?”

“No,” you reply with a smirk. “But now, knowing how many other planets are out there in the galaxy, just being Miss Earth doesn’t seem like a huge deal.”

Tony laughs, smiling with his teeth. You find the crinkles that form on the outer corners of his eyes utterly endearing.

“Well, you’re still one out of four-and-three-quarters billion,” he jests back. “Not too shabby. It’s all about the little victories.”

You giggle. The pleasant thought passes through your mind that despite the current situation, everything does feel strangely normal. Tony is still Tony; you’re still you. The banter between you and your friend is still comfortable and easy. Your relationship, although maybe morphing into something more nuanced, remains unmoved.

You’re so caught up in your inner thoughts, that you don’t register Tony kneeling to the ground between your legs. You gasp when you feel his warm mouth over your still-clothed pussy. The combined wetness of his mouth and your core easily soaks through the fabric of your panties, making it cling to your skin. Tony runs his tongue over your folds, through the saturated cloth. You groan with pleasure, the small of your back arching off of the table. You grip Tony’s dark hair, needing something to hold onto.

The sensation of Tony’s lips and tongue through your thin panties is completely unique, and fuck, does it drive you wild.

After a few minutes, Tony’s hands reach up to hook in the waist of your panties. He removes your final garment, leaving you fully bare. His mouth immediately returns to your pussy. His tongue circles your clit, before running downwards through your lips, and then back up again. He alternates this pattern with gentle sucks on your clit.

“Oh, Tony. Shit,” you manage to call out. “That feels so good.”

He hums hungrily into you, pleasuring you to a level that no previous lovers have ever come close to. Tony’s large, rough hands wander upwards. One palm gentle grips your breast, while the other comes under your waist to hold the small of your back.

You raise your head slightly to glance down at Tony. The sight is pornographic. His face is buried in your cunt, head bobbing. The shape of his shoulder muscles, and his strong back. His tan skin, all bathed in golden sunlight.

Pleasuring you. On his knees.

It’s like a painting. Beautiful and erotic.

“Tony. I need you,” you gasp out, suddenly overcome with neediness. “Inside me. Fuck, I want you.”

Those magic words, again. I want you. The effect they have on Tony is instantaneous. Without hesitation, Tony is on his feet. He swiftly unbuttons his jeans and pulls down the zipper. His pants fall down to his ankles where he kicks them off. To your surprise his naked cock springs free. A glistening pearl of precum is formed at the tip.

“Wow, commando, huh?” you tease, gently biting at your bottom lip. “You were so confident you were going to get lucky again today?”

“Of course not. I just like to let it breath sometimes,” Tony remarks. “You wouldn’t get it. It’s a man thing.”

You scoff and roll your eyes sarcastically. Lovable idiot.

“Top drawer?” Tony asks, referring to the location of the condoms.

“On the left.”

Tony hurries out of the room and returns a second later with a condom from your bedroom. Stepping closer between your knees, he gives his cock a few pumps in his fist. You can feel your heart quickening with anticipation. Your pussy is nearly pulsing, needing to be stretched and filled.

Tony rips open the shiny wrapper and rolls the condom down onto his length. You scoot slightly closer to the edge of the table as his hands travel to grip your thighs. You moan deeply as Tony rubs the head of his cock over your slit, spreading your moisture.

“Are you ready?” Tony asks, eyes dark with desire.

“Mmhmm,” you hum. “Make me feel good.”

With that, Tony starts slowly pushing into your dripping pussy. You groan as your walls accommodate to his girth. It’s amazing that you took him just last night, and he’s already capable of stretching you like this again. Tony throws his head back, hissing in pleasure as he bottoms out, his pubic mound flush against yours.

He starts pumping gently. The way Tony’s hips roll forward in fluid motions makes you want to scream with pleasure. His hands are gripping your thighs tightly, fingertips digging into the soft flesh.

Tony’s pace quickens, and soon the room is filled with sounds of wetness, skin slipping on skin, and the moans leaving both your throats. One of Tony’s hands moves to your pussy. His thumb rubs tight circles on your clit making you see stars behind your eyes. The extra stimulation almost immediately starts tightening the orgasmic coil in your stomach. Tony seems to know the exact speed to move his cock and thumb to turn you into a whimpering mess beneath him.

“Oh, more,” you groan, your pleasure growing. “Tony Stark. Yes, oh, please.”

“Come for me, Y/N,” Tony growls almost primally. “Wanna feel you squeezing around my cock.”

Tony’s filthy demands go straight to your pussy. You love the feeling of being under him, sprawled out on the table, completely naked for him to fuck. And the dirty talk is the cherry on top.

The pleasure in your abdomen continues to rise until you’re on the edge of ecstasy. With one last thrust, your orgasm washes over you. You scream Tony’s name into the room, not caring who hears. Pulses of pleasure rip through your entire body, even making your feet tingle. When you come down, the convulsions slowing, your head feels fuzzy and bubbly.

Not even a moment later, you feel Tony lifting your legs higher. Still inside you, he straightens them, bringing your ankles to rest on his shoulders. The new sensation is instantly nirvana. He starts pumping into you, and the head of his cock rubs your G-spot on every thrust. Penetrative sex had never felt this good for you.

“You feel so fucking amazing, Y/N,” Tony manages to says between moans. “I’m not gonna last much longer.”

The feeling of your pussy being pounded in this angle has your eyes rolling back into your skull. All your thoughts seem to leave your head. The only thing you can focus on is the immense pleasure. The sound of Tony’s balls slapping against you wetly with every stroke combined with his desperate moans fill your ears.

Tony’s thrusts start to become more jagged, needy. His moans slowly transform more into whimpers as he continues to fuck into you. Suddenly, Tony comes with a series of loud groans, his eyes shut tight. You feel his dick pulsating inside you as he orgasms. He thrusts a few more times, riding out the last waves.

He gently slides out of you, his hands coming down the tabletop next to your waist to steady himself. Both of you are breathing heavily, your bodies radiating with the afterglow of pleasure.

Silently, Tony helps you to stand before sweeping you up easily in his arms. You lean into his chest as he carries you to the bedroom. Tony lays you down carefully on the cool mattress before hurrying to the bathroom. He returns a moment later with a warm washcloth.

After cleaning yourselves up, Tony crawls into the refreshing sheets beside you. He slips one arm under your neck, and you cuddle in closer to his body. The warmth and smoothness of his skin is so, so welcoming. In the strangest way, it feels natural.

“I didn’t think it was possible to top last night,” you finally say, chuckling.

“Me neither,” Tony replies. “I guess we just have good chemistry.”

“Who would’ve thought?” You laugh and drape an arm over his chest. “Hey, question.”

“Ask away.”

“Why did you cook all that stuff earlier? Like the eggs, toast, the whole nine yards. It was sort of...”

“Out of character?” Tony finishes your sentence.

You nod. Tony takes a deep breath, exhaling loudly.

“Honestly, when I woke up, and you were gone, I was freaking out a little bit. I wanted to talk about last night, but you weren’t there, and I just didn’t know what you were thinking. If you were having serious regrets, or if you were angry, or upset with me. Or if you were thinking our whole friendship was burned to the ground.

“I just needed to do something. Anything. Busy my hands, distract my mind. Sorry that I kind of raided your kitchen.”

You turn to peer up at him, letting out a soft laugh. His chocolate eyes meet yours, and you give him a kind smile, endeared by his typical, hyper ramblings.

“I’m sorry I left,” you start. “I was freaking out a little, too. I guess that’s always been a difference between us. I always try to run from the unknown, while you just want to plow straight through it.”

Tony smiles warmly and blinks his gorgeous, thick black eyelashes at you.

“It’s why we make a good pair. Balance. Yin and yang. Ya’ know.”

You both chuckle, content in one another’s arms. You open your mouth to reply, but you’re cut off by a loud growl from your stomach. Tony bursts into laughter.

“Your fault for barely touching breakfast,” Tony remarks playfully. “Which — not to toot my own horn — was quite artfully made.”

“I guess I could settle for a bowl of lowly cereal as punishment,” you reply with mock sadness.

Tony chuckles and shakes his head. He starts to rise from the bed, then offers his hand for you to follow.

“C’mon, I’ll make you some more eggs.”

#tony x reader #tony x fem!reader #avengers imagines #avengers fic #avengers smut #tony stark #smut #tony stark smut #marvel fics #iron man #iron man smut #iron man fic #dom!tony #soft!tony #friends to lovers #tony stark fluff #fanfic

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soulwillower · 3 years

Text

housesitting • richie tozier

(richie tozier x reader)

requested: no

had this in my drafts and figured i’d finish it and post it, sorry for being away, but idk if i’ll keep writing! hope you enjoy, i’ll prob still come back and update/post fics on this account on occasion. love u guys lots and i hope you’re all doing okay <3333

warnings: drinking, unprotected sex, oral (fem and male receiving), light deepthroating/face fucking, praise kink, degradation, use of the words slut, whore, etc, suuuper unedited

(losers + reader are 21+.)

4.7k words

♡

the moment you stepped back into your flat, dropping your bag heavily on the ground with a sigh, you finally felt like you could breathe.

today and yesterday had been a nightmare - you and your roommate bill had gone home, planning to stay for a week with family and friends back home.

you'd spent the first night out with old friends at the bar enjoying yourselves and you'd even gone home with a handsome boy you'd had a crush on in high school. but just as he was about to go down on you, after you'd gone down on him despite how terrible his b.o. was, he said he wouldn’t because it was 'gross.'

you hate to admit but you were slightly tipsy and horny, so you still stayed for ten minutes of awful, boring missionary before he fell asleep. then when you'd left in the uber, a voice message from your boss threatened to fire you if you didn't come in and finish a project - so you had to scramble for a flight home, leaving bill back with your friends in maine for a few days, and now you're just ready for a shower, a nicely packed bowl, and a large dinner.

because good god, that was an awful trip.

"hello?" you call, rubbing your eyes as you walk towards your kitchen, wondering if your roommate's best friend was still here - he was supposed to stay and take care of the apartment while you were away.

but instead, your eyes landed on a complete mess in the kitchen; solo cups everywhere, trash, empty chip bags, furniture moved and counters sticky from spilt beer.

"what the fuck?" you project, eyes landing on the figure who walks into the kitchen, towel hanging low on his hips as water drips from wet, shaggy curls of hair. you meet the bright eyes of richie tozier, your roommate’s best friend.

he looks like a deer in headlights, his glasses slightly fogged as he blinks his eyes owlishly and you swear his eye lashes tangle together as he blinks. "oh, hey y/n, why are you here?"

and honestly, richie has always made your fingers tingle and your abdomen clench when he so much as looks at you, despite bill’s groaning and glaring when you refer to him as ‘hot friend number one.’ (he had a lot of hot friends).

but you’re wound up, stressed, frustrated, and exhausted so all you can do is look from the boy to the mess and then back, stunned, "this is my apartment."

he chuckles, wiping a drip of water off of his chest. you have to fight to look away, feeling burning from irritation and also something else as your chest heaves. you're just so tired, and this boy who you don't know very well has trashed your place and maybe even had a party and you just want to smoke and go to bed and-

"say, what are you doing back so soon, toots? thought i had the place to myself for the next five days." he says too casually, grinning like he's catching up with an old friend. his hand runs through his wet hair, droplets rolling down his bare skin and causing you to fight the urge to keep your eyes on his face.

you shake your head. "richie, why does my kitchen look like a scene from dexter?" you say, trying to keep yourself calm.

he tilts his head in an irksome, handsome way that makes you want to scream, "pretty sure dexter was....murdering murderers, not slamming smirnoff at three am." "clean it up! what gives you the nerve to have a party in someone else's fucking apartment? while they're gone?!" you yell, throwing your hands in the air. richie shrugs uncomfortably and you're briefly in shock at how much faith richie is putting in the small tuck he's made with the towel, barely keeping up on in his waist. he laughs somewhat nervously, "sheesh, doll, it would've been cleaned by sunday, you just surprised me and almost gave me a heart attack while i was in the shower. bill told me we could throw at your place as long as we were responsible." he sounds pretty genuine, but you're just so tightly wound and frustrated.

"well this," you gesture to your place, "is not responsible." you glare, "i'm going to shower. i've had a long fucking day, and when i get out the place better be fucking spotless and you better be gone. i'm not asking." you snap.

he grins as you push past him, turning to watch you storm towards the bathroom with an apologetic grimace on his face.

you took as long as you could in the shower, savoring every warm drop until you stepped out of your bathroom, expecting to see an empty apartment.

"what are you staring at?" the boy with the curls mutters as he fixes the wine glass he'd placed on the counter. you're pretty speechless as you look around, wondering how richie had managed to get your place more clean and inviting than how you'd left it. dishes are all clean, put away, the counters spotless; the oven is set with a timer for two hours, and the smell of lasagna invites your nose with a rumble of your stomach. two glasses of wine are poured, sitting at the counter as richie chews on his lip anxiously, hair glinting in the dark mood lighting from the lamp near the window.

"i felt bad. you seem like you had a long day and i didn't mean to make it worse." he admits.

you step forward, suddenly feeling hot as you watch him, his jaw clenched slightly and sharper than you remember it. he's actually really fucking beautiful, you realize.

"you didn't have to do all this." you say, biting your lip as you take the wine glass from his hand.

"i know." he says with a cocky smirk. your face feels hot as you watch him slide out the stools by your breakfast bar, sitting down and sipping on his own wine.

with a smile, you sit next to him. he was always the friend of bills that made you the most flustered - he's a tall, loud, garish bartender who spends most his time doing stand up at the clubs on the weekends even though he studied applied mathematics in school. he's the kind of boy that everybody has a crush on, because he's got that dorky yet beautiful sculpt; dark, curly locks, pale skin with a splattering of bright freckles. his eyes pierce yours whenever you're in the same room and his grin makes your stomach flip on it's head.

"so, why'd you come back early?" richie asks as he takes a sip, eyes staring at you brightly from behind the rim of the glass. you huff a small bitter laugh, "my boss told me i had to come back because we're understaffed. told me the extra hours are 'building charater' or something. but i was having a shitty trip anyways, so i may as well just volunteer my time."

he laughs, muttering, "good girl. doin' the lords work." you almost laugh but his words have heat sent straight between your legs and you can't tind words, suddenly in a state of shock. oh, god, this wine is getting to you.

richie's always been so hot, you're not surprised that one casual phrase had you so frantic like this. you blink, richie muttering, "y/n?" gently.

you shake your head, snapping to look at him, "y-yeah? sorry, i just- what did you say?" you're embarrassed. you're embarrassed because richie didn't even mean it like that and you didn't expect to like being called that by him and you're embarrassed because he knows now, god look at his smirk, you're done for.

"i asked why your trip was shit." he says simply, smirk on his face causing your face to heat up even more. you sigh, eyeing him, "i tried to enjoy myself and then i have the worst hookup experience of my life. then i came back to a messy apartment." you admit, shaking your head as richie pours you both another glass of wine, "the worst? that's a shame. what'd he do, throw up on you?"

you laugh, "no, nothing like that. he was a minute man, and he refused to..." you shake your head, wondering why you're admitting this to a guy you barely know. you've never hung out one-on-one before with him. "-he made me do all the work. and then he fell asleep. the worst part is, i've liked him since high school." you admit, dropping your face into your hands as richie lets out a chuckle.

richie's shaking his head, "see, those types are the ones who just shouldn't be allowed in the gene pool. lazy. missin' out on all the fun, especially with a gal like you." he says with a wink. you laugh, face feeling hot. "i'm no fun." you say bashfully.

richie raises his brows with a grin, his smile making you melt, heat pooling in between your legs from the way he runs his fingers across the rim of his glass. "i highly doubt that, doll."

his eyes dip down in a not-so-subtle way as he takes in your body, biting his lip and making you clear your throat with a heated face. "sorry you had to put up with a guy who couldn't fuck you the right way. and that your boss also fucked you. and that i ruined your night."

you shake your head, "i just had so much pent up stress from the last few days." he's eyeing you, and you wonder if he wants to fuck you as bad as you want to be fucked right now. would bill kill you? yeah, he would, but richie is so damn fine and you were left so high and dry last night that you’re just about ready to jump onto his lap.

as if reading your mind, richie hums, "bill's still in maine, yeah?" he asks casually, eyes fluttering to the timer on the oven that ready an hour.

you nod, "yeah, he's actually hanging out with the guy i hooked up with tonight." you say with a light huff. richie groans a laugh, "no fuckin' way. i promise, not all of bill's friends are bad at sex." richie says with a grin, and you laugh. "you sure about that?"

he hums, eyeing you but not responding.

“guess i’ll just have to find out.” you say boldly, butterflies fluttering in your chest when richie shoots you a deep look, slicking his lips through a smile. he hums, "so i don't get it, what was so bad about it?"

you sigh, "he wouldn't go down on me. said he was 'too tired' and ‘too much work’ then he wanted to lay down so i rode him for, like, five minutes and then he fell asleep."

richie's laughing, and you swat his arm as your face burns, "it's not funny! it's humiliating, richie."

he snorts, standing up to place your empty glasses in the sink, recycling the empty bottle. "sorry, doll. that's just shit. he should've at least had the decency to make you cum."

you almost choke on your spit at his bluntness, face blossoming and thighs tingling. "y-yeah."

"anyways, i can get going, if you'd like. guess i’m done being the house sitter. the lasagna will be done in an hour or so." he says with a nod, eyes staring at yours fiercely. you hum, standing up as richie walks closer. "or you could stay." you say, looking up at him from where he stands in front of you.

"you lonely or somethin', doll?" he rumbles lowly, lifting a brow. biting your lip, you swallow, "something like that." you say, lifting a challenging brow.

“so if it was stan here, or mike...” he starts, walking towards you until he’s close enough that you’re afraid he can hear your heart thump, “you’d want them to stay?”

you swallow dryly, “if bill lived with someone else, would you want to stay?” his smirk makes you clench your thighs. his long fingers raise and curl around your jaw, tilting your head back before tucking hair behind your ear. you swallow roughly, his hands are so big. his rings that he wears are thick and ice cold and feel so good against your warm face.

your heart pounds as he smirks, eyes challenging you. the waiting is killing you.

"you've got a pretty mouth." he whispers, sending shocks all around your body. "y-you've got a pretty everything." you stutter out, feeling extremely flustered and suddenly shy. "thanks, honey." he says with a laugh, making you feel even more bashful.

"y'know..." he drawls, hand settled on your neck, caressing your jaw, "i've wanted you since i first saw you."

you can't help the whimper as it falls from your lips. it's a small, shy noise of need and it makes richie beam a beautiful, sexy grin that has your knees weak. "please..." you whimper, eyes staring at his, the suspense making you anxious with need.

"please what?" he asks quietly, clearly loving the tense air. you almost roll your eyes, "kiss me." you say, rushed.

he pulls away slightly, giving you a stern look. “please.” he says, smirk creeping onto his face. you burn in slight humiliation because he knows what he’s doing.

“please kiss me, richie.” you finally say, swallowing.

"good girl." he says with a smirk and you feel like you're burning up under his gaze. but then he’s leaning in and his lips are on yours and wow, richie is a good kisser. he’s pulling you towards him tightly, hungrily; his teeth bite gently at your lower lip as his tongue swipes your own, pulling you into him. he was needy in the way he kissed you, a dominance in him that you're not surprised to find. you craved it, you craved him; and then he's pushing you back, up onto the stool as he moves between your legs.

his mouth is then marking your neck, claiming you, and you love it, the feeling of his teeth against your warm skin, the sweetness of his smile against you.

his hands brush up your thighs and past the hem of your shorts, legs spread so he’s pressed flush against you, his bulge so close to where you want him. "richie," you let out a mangled whimper, hair knotting in his soft curls. he laughs, lips finding your ear, "always wondered how you'd sound when i had you like this," he says quietly, "can't wait to hear what pretty noises you make when i'm inside you."

his fingers find the damp seat of your panties, dancing across it and making your legs shake with anticipation and neediness. you’re already a soaked, mewling mess as you grasp for him, hungry and needy and you want him closer, closer.

he pulls you off the stool, then, and you both stare at each other for a moment. he almost dies at the state of you; already fucked-out, hair mussed up and still wet, your eyes lidded and your lips kiss-swollen.

you can’t believe your eyes, richie’s curly hair fluffy from being freshly washed, the taste of wine on his lips, the freckles, the collarbone peeking from his collar, the smirk that could melt black ice. he looks like he could tear you apart. you hope he will.

“you’re hot.” you blurt.

he rushes at you again, melding your lips together with a searing hot kiss as he shoves you backwards towards the bedrooms.

"bill told me to stay away from you," richie says as he walks you down the hall, your feet nearly stumbling and shaky as you walk backwards, lips seeking his every moment, "he said i'd ruin you." he adds.

you lift a brow, too flustered to say anything as you stare up at richie, inhaling sharply as his hand trails down to cup your ass lightly, still walking backwards. "he knows how pretty i think you are. how hot, how... perfect." he whispers into the skin of your neck, raising goosebumps. "but i want to fuck you so well you forget your name. i don't care about what bill wants."

you look at him, desperate and needy. "i don't give a fuck what bill says. i want you, please." you say, pawing richie and kissing him needily. richie’s leaving dark love bites on the column of your neck and you know it's wrong, and you shouldn't, but you let him kick open the door into bill's room, guiding you to bill’s bed instead of yours. “please, wan’ you so bad,” you pant, the needy throbbing getting unbearable, desperate for some release.

“how bad, pretty girl?” he asks, smoothing down your hair. biting your lip, you sit on the bed, eyes level with the zipper of his pants. the sight of you staring up at him from below his hard, clothed cock makes his pants feel even tighter and he hums, "you sure?"

you nod enthusiastically, "wanna make you feel good, please." he lets out a soft noise as your hands go to pull down his fly, “filthy girl." he says lowly, making heat drip from your core. you shift, trying to relieve some pressure. you feel hot when you realize you want him to degrade you, that you love it. “god, say that again.” you moan, mouthing around his bulge. his hands come to caress your face, watching you,

"you like being my little whore, huh? so good just for me. bet you’ve thought of my cock in your mouth before, haven’t you?"

you nod, biting your lip. he grins and you’re moving to pull him out of his pants, trying to conceal your shocked face as you take in his size. your cheeks heat up, hand grazing his length and meeting his own hand as he pumps himself a few times, lining his tip up to your lips.

“open.” he says simply and you comply willingly, laying your tongue out. he’s teasing his cock on your tongue and you’re whining, desperate to feel him in your mouth, to make him feel good.

“just wait until i say so, baby.” he says, slapping your tongue lightly with his cock and making you shift on your legs, dripping wet.

he groans, one hand coming to hold your head softly, making you tingle. you watch as he stares at you, lips parted and eyes blown wide. his cock is glistening with precum as it lays on your tongue. “suck my cock pretty girl.” he mutters, caressing your cheek. so you close your lips, slowly sucking on his tip before taking a bit more, moving your head slowly.

you lick a stripe up the base of his cock and up to his tip, swirling your tongue. he groans in relief and pleasure as you take as much of him into your mouth as possible slowly, bobbing your head and taking as much in as you can. he’s bigger than anyone you’ve been with before, and the need to feel him inside you and to make him fall apart has you taking him as deep as you can.

you take him deeper, your eyes clouding with tears as you try not to gag and he hums, hands pulling your hair from your eyes - you can tell he’s straining not to buck his hips as you bob up and down on him.

“god, you feel so good, y/n.” he groans. you pull back, sucking on his tip as you swirl your tongue, catching your breath. his hands fall to your head and he gently, slowly thrusts his hips slightly. you gag, mouth wet as he pulls out of your mouth and wipes the trails of spit from your lips. “do it again, please.” you gasp, and he grins. “such a slut.”

he guides your face back to him, “tap me three times if it’s too much.” you take him in again, holding as long as you can and loving the way he’s thrusting into your mouth. he groans, both hands on your head, his chest rising and falling shakily.

"god, that’s so perfect. my good little toy.” he rumbles and your chest flutters. you feel him twitch and you sense he may be close, so you start to bob your head again.

he stops you, "no, pretty girl. i'm going to cum inside of you, okay?" you swallow, mouth dry, "okay." please.

he sinks to his knees, gently pushing you so you're laying down on the bed again, pulling your legs so they hang off the side of the mattress. he's pulling your shorts off, your underwear following as he spreads your legs wider, kissing your thighs. “look at that pretty pussy. soaked, all for me.”

you're breathing shakily as one finger rises to gently rub your slit, making you moan softly. his touch is feathery-light, teasing you and making you whine, moving your hips. "shhh." he says softly, bringing his tongue to lick up your slit. you moan out, relieved to have some sort of satisfaction. richie's hand moves up to push up your top, thumbing your nipples as he starts to suck your clit. he pins your hips down, "be a good slut and stay still for me." he says, burying his face as your toes start to curl in pleasure, the burning sensation of pleasure increasing.

he rubs circles into your hips with one hand as he slides two fingers into your heat, making you whimper, his fingers start to pick up pace as he continues to circle your clit with his tongue. his long fingers curl up inside of you, still pushing into you fast and rough, hitting your g-spot. you moan, “richie, harder, please.”

he hums, lifting his head as you gasp for breath, "since you asked so nicely, doin' everything i say." his fingers are moving again, faster than before. his tongue runs over your clit, practically moaning into your heat, fingers moving faster. you moan unabashedly, feeling yourself clench and knowing you're about to cum. your legs wrap around his shoulders as your hips move slightly,

“cum on my tongue like a good little slut, okay baby?” he says gently. you moan, eyes shutting as you see stars. you're hitting your high and then richie's watching you, praising you as you fall apart, letting out soft whimpers.

then you're sitting up as he rises from his knees, licking his lips. pulling him into a searing kiss, he crawls on top of you, rutting into you a few times before pulling back.

he's pulling himself out of his pants and you swallow around your words, resisting the shocked face that threatens to creep on to you when you see how big he is. you moan as you watch him pump himself, pulling off his shirt as you pull off your own.

he grins as he looks at you, "so good for me, my little slut. you want me to fuck you now?" he asks and you eagerly pull yourself up to your elbows, "yes, please, rich, fuck me."

he hums, pushing his cock against your slit, the tip rubbing your sensitive clit and making you moan sharply. he continues to tease you, one hand on his cock and the other holding your waist. "use me, please." you whisper in his ear, hand holding him to you from the back of his neck.

he lets out a sharp breath, hand snaking to your neck and pushing you back onto the mattress. "you want me to use you?" he asks, thrusting against you slowly, teasing your slit. "like my little plaything?"

"yes, god, richie, please-" but then he's sliding into you all at once, his large cock stretching you as he moves his hips, sheathing into you. you feel so full that all you can do is gasp, richie kissing your forehead as his hand rests on your throat. "gonna fuck you on bill's bed, okay? and you're gonna be good for me, right? my good little cockslut."

you nod yes, "so good for you." you say, and he smiles. he starts to pull out, easing back in and starting a shallow rhythm, getting you used to his size. you're euphoric as he starts to languidly pump into you, one hand on your neck and the other on your chest, palming your tit.

he starts thrusting into you, picking up speed - rough and fast. his hips buck up against you, pulling back fully before filling you up. his thumb gently grazes your sensitive clit and you grip his bare back, raking your nails down in pleasure. "do you walk around thinking of how it'd feel to get fucked by me, baby?" he whispers in your ear as he pounds you into the mattress. you moan, "yes, r-rich, i've wanted you for s-so long," you trail off into a moan. "feels so good." you mutter, panting, words babbling from your mouth incoherently.

you barely have a warning before you cum a second time, clenching so hard that richie's hips sstutter, his moan ringing with your own. he looks down at you, thumb trailing into your open mouth, you eagerly sucking on it like a lollipop. "god, you're so tight, doll. such a good little whore for me. i bet you'd let me do anything to you, anywhere."

your legs are shaking as he keeps thrusting you through your orgasm, feeling sensitive and euphoric. he smirks, "yeah? bet you'd let me fuck you anywhere, just my little fuck toy. so perfect for me."

you nod, kissing him needily, tears from oversensitivity pricking your eyes. "want you filling me up richie, feels so good."

"anywhere?" he asks, eyebrows knit in pleasure as he fucks into you. he's so possesive, it makes your face warm. you nod, "anywhere."

he's smirking, and you know he's thinking about how shocked bill would be if he found out. it makes it that much hotter as you turn and see the picture of bill and richie on the wall near the door.

then richie pulls out of you and you're being flipped onto your knees, richie's large hand pushing your face towards the soft sheets. you can't help the moans that escape you as he spits onto your dripping cunt, fingers playing with your used pussy as you moan, sensitive and still desperate. "pretty baby, all fucked out. can you take one more?" he asks, hands roaming your ass. you nod, yelping gently when a hand smacks down on your ass.

"can you take one more?" he asks. "yes!" you moan into the mattress with need. he mutters, "good girl." as he pushes into you, the new angle making you moan loudly. with every thrust, he pushes you down on the mattress, making you grip against the edge of it with pleasure. one of his hands drops down to rub your clit, and you buck needily against his touch. after only a few minutes, the combination of the snap of his hips, the few slaps on your ass, and his hands on your clit push you over the edge, clenching around his cock as you whimper. your legs barely stay up after you cum, and his arm wraps around you to hold you as he pounds into you, chasing his own high.

"yes, my pretty girl, so good." he praises again, hips speeding up. you think he's close because his breathing is faster, hands gripping your hips hard as he kisses down your spine, "take it." he whispers onto your back as he finally cums, pulling out and finishing on your ass and lower back, moaning lightly.

you can't believe what just happened as richie disappears, returning at the speed of light with a damp washcloth to clean you off. you blush at how sweet the gesture is before he falls next to you on the bed, sighing. "i'll be honest, i didn't expect that."

you laugh, "neither did i. i thought i was coming home to an empty apartment and some microwave ramen."

he's staring at you, a smirk on his face, “i'd apologize again but holy fuck, you look so pretty when you cum.” you don't know what to say, feeling hot as you roll your eyes with a grin. he laughs and kisses you, “you’re cute, you know.”

"says you." you mutter against his lips. you thank god bill won't be back soon as you watch his best friend rise, naked, from beside you and grab a spare hoodie and gym shorts from bill's closet, throwing them on before handing you his own shirt to wear.

"so, lasagna?" he asks, glasses askew slightly. you laugh as you stand on shaky legs, "it's the least you could do." you joke.

tag list: @gabiatthedisco @blisshemmings @stenbrozier @sft-core @clownsloveyou @moon-shine-baby @daughter-of-the-stars11 @trashedfortozier @oceandog13 @chl0bee @kait16xo @upamongthestarss @fiantomartell @beverlyparkerr @beauregard-s @diorbubs @leighjaenikhowell @groovybimbo @deepestofwaters @unfortu-nate-ly @sassy-uris @loverloserrr @hauntingkaspbrak @soph-ec @hockslutter @babytortie @decafcoffeew @etaerealboy

#richie tozier x reader #richie tozier smut #losers club smut #losers x reader

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shurisneakers · 3 years

Text

harmless (xiii)

Summary: Bucky volunteers to go stop a small time villain, but nothing can prepare him for what exactly he has to deal with. (Bucky x villain!reader)

Warnings: cursing, frustrated bucky, dramatic reader, smidge of angst, guns, little bit of violence, obnoxious flirting, and kidnapping lol

Word count: 6.2k

A/N: welcome to chaos week >:) this is the first of three updates coming out this week (if i can finish the last one in time). big thank you to my love @no-shit-sherl0ck for the kidnaped!reader idea, and that one anon who suggested the inator that’s used here. i know you wanted to see it in a zoo but i couldn’t really figure out a way to use that so i referenced it a bunch in previous chapters. oh and also @ginevranights for this specific imagery

Previous Part || Series Masterlist

Who the fuck kidnaps a villain in this day and age?

Saturday started normally enough.

Nat kicked Bucky’s ass in training, evening the score to 120 and 120. He blames it on the lack of sleep. She tells him that it’s his fault he stayed up late to binge watch 911 Lone Star.

He still thinks it was worth it.

The team’s sunshines and rainbows that morning. Someone had cooked up a batch of pancakes and fresh orange juice. Someone else burnt the bacon but left to feed his dog before anyone could complain.

Nat opened up the newspaper. Different sections went to different people until Bucky got stuck with the entertainment section. Fun, considering that he doesn’t even recognise half the names. He’d have to pretend to be interested until the next rotation.

He watches the orange juice levitate in front of him from the corner of his eye and just assumes that Wanda’s getting a refill even though she could have just asked him to pass it. He smells the next batch of bacon burning and figures that Clint is back.

Sam’s beside him, annoying him about how long it takes for him to read about which new celebrity relationship just ended and Bucky retaliates by reading even slower. Fuck you.

He’s on his second stack of pancakes absolutely drenched in maple syrup when the doors to the elevator open and Marie steps out, laptop in her hand.

An instant chorus of hello’s and invitations to have some charred bacon resound through the table. She politely declines them with a small smile, instead opening her laptop and placing it in front of Bucky without further ado.

He looks at her questioningly, slowly swallowing whatever was in his mouth.

“An email for you.” She tuts her head towards it. “It has a video attachment of your friend.”

Bucky has plans to not watch the video in front of everyone, given that the content could range anywhere from you reading out fanfiction about him to a deep-fake of him singing a Whitney Houston song.

Both of which you have done before and would do again, without any hesitation.

“Aren’t you gonna watch it?” Wanda asks from across the table.

He slowly shakes his head no, cutting his stack into smaller pieces.

“If what’s in it is real, it’s important,” Marie stresses.

“What’s in it?” he inquires instead, hoping that the team would stop staring at him. If Marie was implying strongly that he needed to watch then something was wrong.

“Just watch it, man.” Sam’s statement has everyone agreeing with him. Bucky can’t refuse now, and if the team makes fun of him for the next month about how he looks good belting Greatest Love of All, he’s going to personally assassinate you.

He clicks on the email, noticing it came from a throwaway address. Probably untraceable, if the cards are played right.

The video opens to grainy footage, which is stupid considering modern technological advancements. If this is one more of your stupid LARPing sessions, it could definitely wait till after lunch.

But, he instantly recognises your silhouette strapped to a chair and suddenly the room feels very cold around him. His hand automatically clutches onto a bead from the bracelet you gave him that still remained tied to his left arm more often than not.

“Speak,” someone commands off camera.

“About what?” You sound annoyed, exasperated even.

“Why you’re here.”

“I’m here because you have unaddressed feelings of childhood insecurity.”

“I warned you to take this seriously.”

Bucky’s eyes widen slightly but his body relaxes the minute he reads the situation.

The team’s crowded around him, he can feel it. His attention remains on the screen in front of him.

“Who even are you sending this to?” You don’t sound the least bit threatened. “My roommate’s not at home but my cat is and I don’t think she’d care.”

”You’ve made a complete joke out of villains everywhere. Fraternising with the enemies, the Avengers,” he spits the name with so much vitriol. “You’ve erased what it’s like to be truly evil. Turned us into a laughing stock.”

“If it takes one person to undermine your whole movement then maybe it wasn’t strong enough to begin with.” You look at someone outside the lens, face scrunching in distaste. “Also your costume’s ugly.”

“F.R.I.D.A.Y., can you trace this voice?” Bucky asks, receiving an immediate confirmation. “Figure out who it is.”

“On it.”

“Tell them. Tell them we are a serious threat and are to be feared.”

"No,” you say resolutely. “You’re an overgrown manchild. Go watch Teletubbies or something.”

“She does not give a shit,” Clint marvels at the situation, a piece of half eaten burnt toast between his fingers.

You didn’t. And if he knew you in the slightest, which he prided himself on at this point, you already had six different ways of getting out of there.

“She knows she’s going to be fine,” Bucky murmurs, returning back to take a bite of his pancakes. “She’s probably still there just to irritate him.”

He zeroes in on your wrist to see if the teleportation watch was still there but no, your wrists are bare. Guess you forgot.

“You have to.”

“Why?��

“Because that’s how a real villain does it.”

“A real villain- what are you, gatekeeping the villain community?” You scoff. “You sound like a fuckin’ incel.”

“Just send them a message,” the guy bellows, hitting a table.

“She’s going to frustrate them to death.” An accurate observation, Sam.

“Okay, jeez, fine.”

Bucky just knows that you rolled your eyes at that moment.

He had faith in you, or in your abilities at the very least. While every wisecrack could possibly inch you closer towards harm, you probably wouldn’t be making them unless you felt completely secure in your situation.

“Help, I’m totally kidnapped and in danger. Save me because I can’t do it myself. This man is too powerful and strong and sooo scary.”

“Do you think she has a strategy?”

“Definitely.”

“You’re not worried, James?” Wanda asks curiously. “I thought she was your friend.”

“She is my friend.” He reaches over to take the jug of orange from across the table. “That’s why I’m not worried.”

“Are you going to fight the Avengers?” you interrupt his endless tirade. “Because that’s a stupid plan. You get how that’s a stupid plan, right?”

“Let them come. I’m prepared.”

“With what? A stick you found outside? A Nerf gun? Man, you’ve tied my hands with fuckin’ zip ties, you can’t be serious-”

“Shut up,” he roared and the stand shakes slightly from where he stamps his feet. “Our army is enough.”

“Wow,” you exhale. “I wish I had your confidence, I really do. I want to study you under a microscope.”

“I have reinforcements.” It sounds like he turns to the camera to address it directly. “This is a warning. Your friends have an hour to find you or things are gonna turn ugly. This is what real evil looks like.”

“Evil dresses in a dollar store Speedo, apparently.” The man pays you no heed, instead picking up the camera. “Hey, sarge, if you’re watching this, don’t bother. I’m fine, it’s not even the real me-”

The camera cuts to black.

“When was this video sent?” Nat looks at Marie, eyebrows drawn together.

“About ten minutes ago.”

Bucky clicks out of the email, determined to get at least half his breakfast in him before he left to see what’s up with your situation. A notification pops up immediately.

[email protected] just sent you an email.

A video attachment.

“We got another one,” Bucky informs the team, drawing their attention back to the screen from the informal conversation that had erupted between them about what they could do.

This time, there’s a subject line included.

Attack on the Clone.

"Ain’t that a Star Wars movie?" he asks, craning his neck to look at Clint.

"That's Attack of the Clones," Sam corrects. "Probably autocorrect."

Bucky narrowed his eyes in suspicion at him, jaw sliding outward before falling back into place. Enough times had Sam called him Fucky in the group chat and gotten away with it for him not to be wary.

“Or a code,” Wanda suggests, too many crime thrillers read and podcasts listened in her spare time. She occasionally brought them over to Self Care Saturday, introducing him to the world of true crime as a bit of light content while they snacked on chocolate chip cookies he baked. “Like the Zodiac.”

“For what?” Bucky peers over at her.

“All I remember from that movie is them rolling around a field together,” Clint mutters. “Maybe that’s how you’re supposed to save her.”

“I’m not saving anyone. Look at her, she’s fine.” Is he the only one who saw it?

When he’s met with skeptical looks and no other useful suggestions, he presses play on the video.

This time it's clearer footage. It hardly takes him a second to ascertain where it was.

"That's her lair." It showed the pathway leading up to the flat concrete building, exactly where the intercom should be.

There was a black Sedan parked haphazardly outside, engine still on judging by the sound of the radio blasting an AC/DC song.

Within a few seconds, someone drags you from the entrance of the lair to the car, despite your very clear protests and opposition, shoving you inside before it takes off in full speed, tires screeching.

"F.R.I.D.A.Y., track the car from that video. Check all the CCTV and surveillance footage from around the area that you can find," Bucky commands, taking a sip of orange juice.

"Why would they send us that?" Clint pipes up. "They make their email untraceable but send us a video of the fuckin' abduction itself?"

"I don't know." Bucky shakes his head, setting his glass down. "She probably convinced them to."

It was an unusual scenario, he realised that. But his eyebrows lower in contemplation, his lip caged between his lip before a thought suddenly occurs to him. A laugh in disbelief almost escapes his throat ad he pushes it down with some freshly cut strawberries.

"And they listened?"

"I don't think you realise how annoying she can be." He knows, though. He knows. "Bet they regret it, though. I should tell them to keep her for a little longer."

"Voice recognition registers voice to someone named Chad, better known by his alias Soul Crusher. Surveillance footage places the car about thirty minutes away. Exact location sent to your phone GPS."

Soul Crusher. That was worse than Dr. Strange.

"I can make that fifteen." Bucky shrugs, setting down his fork and knife. If his hunch is right, the team didn’t really have to get involved. “See you guys later.”

“Do you want any of us coming with you?” Wanda gestures to the crowd at hand.

“I got it.” He pushes away from the table, depositing his plate in the sink, dropping an extra piece of bacon on the ground for Clint’s dog. “She’ll be alright.”

They watch him trail out of the room briskly, heading up to his room to change.

“Is it just me or is he too casual about this?” Clint continues staring long after he leaves.

“Both of them are weirdos.” Nat pulls open the newspaper again, going back to the sport’s section. “Who knows what goes in their heads.”

“Can confirm that not a lot goes on in his.”

Without Bucky to retaliate or grumble, a Steve walking into the room, sweaty and shiny after training becomes the new subject of jokes that morning.

For the first time in months, he’s had to bring a weapon or two along with him. Two revolvers and a couple of knives kept out of plain view. He wouldn’t need more than that anyway.

True to his word, it takes only fifteen minutes to get there, thirteen if he didn’t stop for the chain of ducks that crossed the street.

He’s also dressed in a little more leather than he usually reserves for your meetings. A jacket that brings to act as a windbreaker and tightly laced up combat boots make him look like he either stepped off a runway, or more menacing than usual depending on who was looking.

The GPS points him to an old warehouse near a more subdued part of the city. It was abandoned by the looks of it, and had been for a while judging by the lack of upkeep. Prime real estate.

He pulls off his helmet, hanging it on the handlebar along with his backpack before kicking the stand into place. The bike’s a few metres away just in case they decide to blow something up.

Bucky looks up at the warehouse, assessing the most damage he could do to it if at all it was needed. That thing could barely stand on its own, a grenade would absolutely decimate it. That wasn’t good news for you.

He sighs once before putting on his death glare, straightening out his shoulders into a stature that screams stone-cold, and pushes the door open, gun raised.

A mini-army of people ranging from their early twenties to late thirties stood guard at the entrance, all with rifles pointed at him. He counts fifteen, maybe eighteen.

“Oh, hell no,” a voice erupts from the back, followed by the sound of his gun being thrown to the ground. “No one told me that he was coming.”

Bucky raises an eyebrow, his death glare not shifting and Glock not lowering.

“I’m out.” The same guy raises his hands up to show he meant no harm, slowly brushing past Bucky as he squeezed out of the building.

“You got five seconds to leave before I shut this door,” Bucky gives the rest of them an ultimatum. Not like there was a point anyway. SHIELD was sending down some people to account for the one day rise in new morons.

They all looked at each other, swallowing thickly before raising their weapons.

“I hope he’s giving you good insurance.” The second he finishes his sentence they all cry out in what sounds like a fucking war chant, launching themselves at him.

______

“They’re here.” Someone presses his ear to the door as if the gunshots and screaming weren’t enough.

“Brilliant. We’re ready.” Chad picks up the knife, running his finger along the sharp end. You try to see if you can use your Twitter-ordained powers of manifestation for a paper cut.

“How much are you asking them for?” You put forth a query instead, when it disappointingly doesn’t work.

“Asking who for what?” Chad stops his dumb intimidation tactic for a second.

“You know,” you insist like it was obvious, “my ransom. How much did you ask them to pay?”

“We didn’t-” He looks around at the other people in the room for confirmation. “-we didn’t ask for any.”

“Because I’m invaluable?” Your head droops to the side in mock flattery. “Aw, you guys.”

“We didn’t think of it,” someone from the corner behind you speaks up, coming to the aid of their boss.

“Now that’s just rude.” You tut, shifting maybe an inch or two in your bounds to try and get more comfortable. “Leaving aside your lack of preparation, let’s just assume he bursts in here, desperate and ready to bargain. How much would you ask for?”

“Three million,” Chad says confidently, gathering a nod and sounds of agreement from everyone else.

“Are you serious?” Your jaw drops, a scoff escaping you. “That’s all?”

His self-assurance falters a little bit, you can see it under his 5 Minutes Craft mask.

“Three mill-” You stop mid-sentence. “With this wiring? Ridiculous. Make it ten, I demand it.”

“We’ll ask for fifteen mil,” Chad proposes, his teammates agreeing again, a little more delighted than last time.

“Ask for thirty, you coward,” you argued. “Thirty million and a jet.”

“You’re not worth that much.” The dipshit diagonal to you pipes up with his unwanted and, frankly, useless opinion.

“And you are?” You whip around the best you can. “Henchman number four?”

“Megedagik,” he informs, standing up a little taller now that he was given some importance. “It means ‘killer of many’.”

“Did you just say your name was Mega Dick?”

“Megedagik,” he corrects.

You stare at him hard before turning away. “Alright, other than Mega Dick here, does anyo-”

A knife lands right next to your feet, driven at least an inch into the ground. You look up at the guy you managed to piss off within four sentences, his face now a beet red.

“These are brand new, asshole,” you barked, shaking your shoes around. “You’re gonna pay if there’s even a scratch on it.”

“Permission to kill her?” Meg growls, casting a side eye at Chad.

The boss man looks at you thoughtfully, assessing the repercussions of what might happen. You raise an eyebrow.

“Slow and painful,” he settles.

A small smirk makes its way onto your face.

“Title of your sex tape,” you quip as the man in the corner storms towards you.

_____

It’s all a flurry, really. A bunch of inexperienced newcomers versus one of the most skilled assassins the world had ever seen? Ten minutes tops.

Bucky doesn’t do any serious damage. A couple of broken bones but only out of necessity, a lot of concussions, and maybe a bullet wound, or three, here and there.

Most of the time he spends thinking about things that have absolutely nothing to do with what was going on. He forgot to take his laundry out of the machine. There was a biscotti recipe he had been procrastinating on trying. His succulents needed watering but he could do that once he was back. Was he wearing his good combat pants or was it the pair that had a hole in the pocket?

His left hand thrust outwards to shove someone away while he stuck his right hand into his pocket to check if it had frayed away. The person he pushed slams into a wall with a loud groan and no, his pants didn’t have a hole in them.

He stops to take a breather, assess what was going on. There are bodies scattered all around, mostly writhing in pain from minor injuries. Someone very bravely stands up, hands posed in front of him in a regular fighting stance.

“You sure about this?” Bucky asks, reaching for one of the concealed knives he hadn’t had a chance of using yet. It twirls rather nimbly between his fingers for something so dangerous, the hilt finally landing in his palm for a sturdy grip.

The man takes one look at the knife before sitting right back down on the ground.

“Good choice,” his voice drops to an octave lower than his self-esteem. He’s tired of this old routine but it works like a neat little party trick, often getting him the result he wanted. “Where?”

A few fingers point down the hall to the only room whose door was closed.

He makes sure to step over everyone who was lying along the way, ears tuned in to even the smallest of noises just in case one of them decided to attack him from the back. It doesn’t come.

He doesn’t bother creeping down the hallway. With all the ruckus that just went on outside, he’s pretty sure it’s obvious that they had an intruder.

Bucky kicks in the large steel door with ease, given that it was barely hanging on its hinges. His gun’s raised, muscles tight, and senses on high alert for any immediate threats.

It lands with a large thud, reverberating through the room. He’s reminded of your first meeting with him.

There’s a chair in the middle of the room with a person tied to it by a mixture of rope and tape. Others found themselves slithering around on the floor in a similar fashion, trying to get out of their bondages.

“Hey, James,” you call out, drawing his attention to you. You were sitting atop a table, legs swinging back and forth without a care in the world, a blade in your hand.

“You okay?” He tucks the gun into his waistband when he realises that none of the henchmen are going to be going anywhere soon.

“All good.” You hop off the table with a little spring in your step. “Did you bring your bike? I need a ride back to the lair. I think I left the TV on when I was, you know, getting kidnapped.”

“You coulda teleported back home before all of this even happened.” Bucky does a quick assessment of your body to make sure there weren’t any bruises or anything of the sort. “Avoided the whole thing.”

“Don’t have the watch with me.” Odd, since he knows you consider it one of your essentials but it just fuels his theory further. “Besides, if I just quit before we started, they’d keep messing with me over and over again.”

“Do you want me to punch someone’s face in?” He glances around the room at the ones wiggling about on the floor like fucking worms. “I’d be happy to.”

“Nah, I got a few in myself.” You rotate your wrist, other hand still holding onto the knife. “You know what, maybe I’ll have another go.”

He simply makes a noise in acknowledgement before he places a hand on the hem of your shirt, gently reeling you back. “I think you fixed ‘em up real good. That’s enough for today.”

“Fine but only ‘cause you said so.” You huff, looking past him and at the weirdos on the ground. “You hear that? This man just saved your life. Say ‘thank you’.”

A muffled chorus of what sounded like appreciation echoed through the room. Bucky awkwardly looks around.

“Damn right.” You walk over to the guy in charge of the whole event, bending down to his level. “If you ever try to fuck with us again...”

You stare straight into his eyes, unblinking. You hold up the knife to his Adam’s apple. Chad doesn’t dare to move other than the thick swallow.

You raise your finger and flick him in the forehead. “Get a better costume.”

The corner of Bucky’s lip quirks upward.

“Let’s go, sarge,” you announce, standing upright again and making a motion to follow you. “D’you have an extra helmet I could use?”

“Yeah.” He had brought one along in his bag, assuming that you’d need one once he noticed the watch was missing in the footage.

“Yay.”

The only storage space on his bike was under his seat and it’s just enough for an extra revolver. Clint asked him if it was his way of flirting with someone, give ‘em a quick spin around the city and then show them his gun. If looks could kill, Clint would be 7 feet under.

“You sure you wanna ride it, though?” He cringes immediately when he realises what it sounds like, waiting for you to smack the innuendo in his face. “We could wait for SHIELD.”

“Don’t really have another choice, Bucky,” you say absentmindedly, strolling out the room as you tossed the knife behind you.

He frowns at your indifference but turns around for a second to look at Chad. The man in question looks back viciously, his grandeur from that morning basically deflated and left to die along with his reputation.

“Might wanna reconsider the name,” Bucky remarks, doing a quick sweep of the area once more. “Soul Crusher.”

He waits until both of you are outside the cell and the door is shut on the ringleader and his circus clowns, handlebar twisted out of place so that they don’t escape for the time being.

“One second,” he calls, touch gently lingering on your forearm to stop you without even thinking twice about it. A famously uncharacteristic move for him.

"Hm?” You don’t even look like you notice his action.

“You sure you’re good?” he asks seriously, actual concern slipping through the question. “Do you need medical assistance?”

“They couldn’t hurt me anyway.” There’s something strange about the way you say it, almost assuredly. “I’m good.”

“Okay,” he concedes, his hand darting back when he realises it was still on your arm. His eyebrows furrow when he realises how instinctively he had reached out in the first place. He didn’t touch anyone, ever.

“What are we gonna do about them?” you inquire, stepping over someone on the floor to get to the exit.

“Marie told Agent Hill. They’re sending someone over.”

“They’re sending SHIELD for these wannabes?” Someone groans in protest from somewhere and you elect to ignore them. “Ew.”

“Just to make sure confidential information isn’t compromised in any way.” There’s a large bang that comes from the room they just left. Maybe one of them shot their teammate by accident. They were more than capable of doing it.

“I would never,” you exacted a little more solemnly, pushing the door open with your elbow to let the sunlight flood in.

“I know.” He doesn’t realise how dark it was in the warehouse until he steps out into the noon sun. “I’m pretty sure this is more about the fact that you were abducted.”

“For me?” The smile doesn’t quite reach your eyes the way he kinda likes. Something definitely felt off. “I love being class favourite.”

He doesn’t reply, a small grunt as he twists the handle of the warehouse door upwards, effectively jamming it.

“Can I drive?” You bat your eyelashes at him innocently, disregarding the loud screaming that came from inside as those less injured probably regrouped for a last ditch attempt.

“No,” he doesn’t hesitate in replying, handing you a helmet and buckling his own securely.

“But I just got kidnapped,” you complained, watching him swing a leg over the bike and straddle it. Okay then.

“All the more reason for you not to drive right now.” He mentions for you to get on, squinting at the warehouse a few feet away.

“Fine, but next time I’m driving,” you grumble, climbing on the back.

“Do you even know how to?” His head is tilted to look at you from the corner of his eye, voice heavier on account of the obstruction on his face.

The door starts shaking violently and he knows for a fact that it won’t hold up for much longer. Some of those who he had knocked out probably had been shaken awake again for manpower.

“I can learn.” You take a pause, mischief seeping into your next words. “You can teach me.”

“No.” He didn’t exactly practice what was considered safe, law abiding driving. He just got from one point to another and that’s all he cared about.

“Then I’ll do it myself.” You sound determined. “I’m going to leave a note for us in the lair.”

“You do that.” He revs the engine when something solid hits the metal door. As guessed, their usage of props to push it down faster was coming into play. “Now, can you hold on to something? We need to go.”

If only those idiots just realised that the windows covered by newspapers were right there, ready to be broken.

“Only if you promise to let me drive next time,” you say defiantly, drawing this whole ordeal out.

“Whatever,” he urges. “I promise. Now can we go?”

“Wait for it...” There’s a devilish smile on your face. “One.”

There’s a loud creak as the door finally gives way.

“Two.” The same people you left tied up in the room burst out, almost stumbling over each other in the process.

“Three,” he completes it on his own, not waiting for you to finish because God knows how long you’d stretch it out just for the drama.

Your excited screech of laughter as he narrowly misses a rod that gets thrown at him like a fucking javelin temporarily distracts him from the brain freeze he gets when your arms wind around his waist to hold yourself in place.

There’s angry screaming and bullets that whiz past in an attempt to get him to stop but a swift turn around a corner, pulling the both of you out of their sight is enough to get rid of them.

“We should get a few weapons and go back,” you yell over the wind rushing by, barely audible.

“You do that in your own free time,” he shouts in response, yanking you through narrower lanes and less popular streets.

“Maybe I will, you bore.”

Still, you shut up for the rest of the ride, only grumbling when he stops the bike to tell you that no, you cannot let go just because you want to throw your hands in the air like in the movies.

You hop off when he finally pulls up on the street outside your lair, adrenaline still pumping through your veins. He waits patiently as you unbuckle the helmet, switching off the engine.

“You gonna drop me off at my door too, now?” You snicker, fingers pulling off the helmet.

He looks at you for a second before dropping the kickstand into place and dismounting from the motorcycle.

“I was kidding.” You laugh, handing him your headgear that he shoves into his backpack.

“You’re pretty capable of gettin’ abducted along the way.” An absurd notion, considering it’s a short path from the road to the door.

“Oh, how chivalrous.” You let him tag along anyway, for his peace of mind.

“My ma didn’t expect any less.” A couple of sharp lessons from Winifred Barnes and Bucky was nothing short of a damn angel.

You knock on the door three times, crossing your arms over your chest as you waited.

“Aren’t you the one with the key?” Bucky questions, one hand on his waist.

The door swung open in the middle of his sentence revealing... you.

Another you.

“Nah, she has it.” Ex-Kidnapped-You raises your head in acknowledgement at Doorway-You.

“Ah.” He fucking knew it. An unnatural sense of smugness blossoms in his chest.

“Hey,” the both of you said at the same time.

Doorway-You looked way more relaxed, a little less grimy and dishevelled but exactly the same.

“Buck, I see you met my other half,” the you from the doorway greets him. “Or other whole, actually.”

“Sure did.” He sends a glance at Ex-Kidnapped-You.

“You can go on in. Big first day, huh?” Doorway-You refers to the you beside him.

“You wouldn’t believe,” Ex-Kidnaped-You mutters, pushing past the entrance and disappearing inside.

“She gonna be okay?” His gaze trails after your clone.

“Oh yeah, just needs to recharge.” You turn around to make sure she’s fine. “She’s made of some pretty strong carbon, technically almost indestructible.”

No wonder ‘you’ said they couldn’t hurt you.

“Heya, sarge.” You draw his attention back to you. “Always good to see you.”

“Can’t really say the same about you.”

“Ever the emotional repressor, Mr Barnes. I like this little leather show you got going, did ya wear it just for me?”

He shifts his balance to his other foot, feet slightly wide apart. “Take it that the clone machine finally worked?”

“I was in the middle of celebrating.” You sigh, recalling the events of that morning. “Teleported home for a second to get some champagne and when I came back she was gone.”

“Irresponsible.” He tsks, head shaking in disappointment.

“Sorry I didn’t take amateur kidnappers into account for my risk factor analysis, Bucky,” you shoot back, pressing on his name for added annoyance. “Anyway, I did the responsible thing. I sent all the evidence I had to you guys.”

“Real clever.” Bucky looks at you in dry amusement. “Attack on the clone? Really?”

“Hey, always make time for a good pun.” You finger gun, lopsided grin on your face. “Did the team like it?”

“They thought it was a typo.” Or a code. He really had Wanda to thank for his big revelation. “Your video didn’t help either.”

“Don’t tell me they couldn’t make out it was me.” You laugh, crossing your arms over your chest.

He doesn’t reply, pursing his lip inwards in sympathy, but more so to conceal a smile.

The happiness drops from your face slowly, horror taking its place. “Don’t tell me they couldn’t make out it was me.”

“Good job, your machine worked,” he adds helpfully.

“C’mon, there were so many differences,” you whine, the success of your endeavour the last thing on your mind.

“That is your literal clone,” he points out, only to see you- clone you- walk into the giant box in the corner of the room, bright green light emanating from it like a xerox machine.

“How could they not tell the original apart from a copy?” You look genuinely offended. Insane. “Not even Sam?”

“Guess you’re not unique enough.” A rise and fall of his shoulders signify his attitude towards this whole thing. “Think I like your copy better, too, actually.”

“You’re so mean.” You puff in disbelief. “I’m a 100% original. How many mad scientist teachers do you know?”

“Two.”

“I don’t mean now, that’s not even the-” You poke at his rock hard chest. “You are so much more annoying than when I first met you.”

He thinks it’s good relationship development.

“I have to deal with you every weekend.” He watches your finger drop from his chest. “Picked it up along the way.”

“Boo hoo, talking like you don’t have deep, deep feelings for me.” You roll your eyes. “I see right through you, Bucky Barnes.”

“Can you see the part that couldn’t give less of a shit?” He gestures to himself. “It’s all of it.”

“You think you’re such a comedian, huh?” You narrow your eyebrows. “How did you know she was a fake then, huh?”

Busted.

“Probably ‘cause you didn’t talk as much today,” he dodges. “Actually had some peace of mind for a change.”

“You knew before you got there, you liar.” You push past his fabrications. “You figured it out before everyone else.”

“You literally put it in the title.”

“Yeah, but the rest of the team saw it too.”

“Rest of the team didn’t know you were building a goddamn clone machine for months.”

“You remembered that?” You pulled away, palm over your heart. “Oh, sarge, you paid attention to me.”

His nose twitches.

“You said it, like, eight hundred times.” He could use both his hands to count the number of references you had offhandedly made in the last three weeks alone.

“Why'd you go save me when you knew it wasn't real?” you continue to challenge relentlessly, knowing fully well that he was fibbing.

“Because you fuckin’ peer pressured me. Had the whole team around me when you sent your little video during breakfast.”

“Just admit it,” you coo, ignoring all his justifications. “You noticed it was fake me right away but showed up anyway because you’re wildly in love with me.”

“No,” he says stiffly.

“No as in you won’t admit it you have a crush on me, or no as in you didn’t know it was fake me?”

There was no winning this.

“Good day to you.” He pulls the motorcycle helmet on to hide the expression that plain as day screamed the former of your two options.

“Also,” you bring up indignantly, “she even got to ride the fucking bike and I’ve been asking to drive it for months now!”

“We-” he chooses his words carefully. “-compromised.”

“Oh, you did?” Your voice lowers at the newfound information, interest piqued. “I’m gonna hold you to that then, whatever it is.”

“Doesn’t count.”

“Absolutely does,” you huff. “A promise is legally binding. Blue’s Clues taught me that.”

“Bye, Y/N.”

“You’re my knight in leathery armour,” you swoon, switching sides immediately, “Kinda.”

“See you next week,” he says in farewell, determined to leave before you made it worse. “Try not to get killed by then.”

“Why, so you can do it yourself? Protective much?” You pull him back when he starts walking away, laughing slightly. “Wait a second, you weirdo.”

He sighs, staying put anyway, arms crossed impatiently over his chest.

You pull out the pen tucked behind your ear and slowly tap him twice on each shoulder in a makeshift knighting ceremony. “For your sacrifice.”

He rolls his eyes at the ludicrousness, tongue clicking against the roof of his mouth.

You ignore his lack of enthusiasm, pressing your fingertips to your lips in a small kiss and then to his nose, given that it was the only part of his face you had access to.

“That was for your bravery.” You grin brightly at him and he sure as hell is glad he’s wearing the stupid helmet because he can feel his cheeks light up a bright crimson.

“Thanks.” His voice sounds gruffer than a second ago. He clears his throat.

“Now you’re my knight in leathery armour,” you fawn, nearly falling over yourself dramatically. “Let’s ride into the sunset together. I love you.”

“You’re ridiculous,” he calls out over his shoulder, turning away to return to his bike. “I despise you.”

“But you don’t.”

He really didn’t.

also i managed to fuck my phone up really bad so all proceeds from my ko-fi go towards getting it fixed

Next part

#bucky x reader #bucky barnes x reader #mcu fic #bucky fic #bucky barnes fic #bucky fluff #bucky barnes fluff #bucky angst #bucky barnes angst #harmless fic #winter soldier x reader #Winter Soldier #bucky barnes #bucky

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bffsoobin · 3 years

Text

amortentia

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

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

Word Count: ~11k

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

——

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

——

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

——

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

——

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

——

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

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

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

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

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

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

Not a single soul moved.

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

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

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

“I’ll just ask someone. Hey, Art-”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

——

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

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

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

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

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

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

“I’m looking for Choi Beomgyu.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

——

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

——

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

——

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

——

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

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

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

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

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

“Honest, I guess.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

——

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

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

After roaming the aisles you’d found an anthology of wizard poetry that piqued your interest. Settling beteeen the cushions of the couch with a book made you feel the most at home you ever had, cracking open the delicate binding and balancing the book in your stomach as you began to read.

There was no way to tell how long you’d been reading, but by your estimations it was only about 20 minutes before someone was looming above you. Startled, you lifted your gaze over the book to see none other than Beomgyu standing before you. He was decked out in a sage green sweater paired with slightly oversized beige slacks. He had forgone his robes, but his Head Boy pin still shined on the breast of his shirt. Typical.

“Can I help you?” You asked, finally sitting up to regard him.

“I thought you’d be here.” He said simply, shuffling on his feet awkwardly. You blinked.

“That doesn’t answer my question,” you poked, slipping your book shut dramatically. “Did you want to ask me something?” Beomgyu licked at his lips before rubbing his fingers against his forehead.

“Merlin, why do you make everything so hard?” He groaned and seemingly became so exhausted that he collapsed onto the ornate rug under his feet. Seeing that you’d riled him up so much by doing practically nothing sent excitement through your veins. As much as the bickering annoyed you, there was no denying the thrill you felt when giving him back a taste of his medicine.

“What exactly am I making so hard? I don’t even know what you’re here for. To be honest I’m shocked you managed to find me in the library. I figured you would start to burn at the door and have to find a different way in.”

Beomgyu rolled his eyes, a hint of a smirk playing at his pillowy lips.

“Don’t act like you don’t know why I’m here.” He finally began to reveal the award winning smile you’d come to know whenever he teased you. “I know what Georgiana told you.” His voice was low, so quiet that if there had been any other souls in the library you’d have missed it.

Your eyes flew open and he flushed instantly. “You two aren’t exactly quiet at the Great Hall, and I’ve got more than a few friends.” It was your turn to flush red, wondering just how many conversations between you and Georgiana had been overheard by other people.

“So you know that I said...”

“Why do you think I’m here? All it took was me knowing you also...you know,” he picked at the nonexistent loose threads in the carpet. Honestly, you were shocked at how reserved he had become in the face of this confrontation. All traces of his usual confidence seemed to have vanished in the moment.

“I do like you, Beomgyu. I had a massive crush on you in second year, but then we got into that fight and-”

“I wouldn’t call it a fight,” he countered animatedly. “You just never understood my humor. All this time, I was hoping that you would catch the hints.”

“Hints?” It felt like your eyes were going to fall out of your head with how wide you held them. “You call those hints? I’d call those lackluster clues, at best.”

He was quiet for a moment, examining the smirk on your lips carefully. In a moment of impulse you slid off of the couch to sit opposite him on the floor, knees touching. Your heart hammered against your ribs.

“I’m sorry,” he muttered, gripping at his thighs nervously. “Didn’t know how else to go about it.”

“That’s okay, me either, obviously.” A rueful laugh escaped your lips, and he returned one just as easily. Up this close, the planes of his face were defined by the delicate light provided from the fairy lights. Shyly you shared glances, neither of you knowing quite how to deal with the charged anticipation in the air.

“Will you...come to the last Quidditch game tomorrow?” He finally spoke, snapping your attention back to him.

“Only if I don’t have to wear one of your ugly jerseies.” Feeling bold, you leaned forward just a few inches, beginning to close the gap between you gradually.

“Fine,” he acquised, leaning forward just the same as you had, his breath fanning hot over your face. “In exchange for not wearing a jersey, how about you...” he tapped at his lips cheekily. A surge of excitement tumbled through you.

“That’s a shit way of asking me to kiss you for the first time, Choi.” Nevertheless you leaned forward further, bumping your nose against his own before you finally pecked him firmly on the lips. You felt ridiculously shy, like you were having your first kiss all over again, but Beomgyu smiled reassuringly, pulling your hands into his own and linking them together. The touch encouraged you both, and your lips collided with more assurance than before.

The faint scent of pumpkin juice lingered on his lips, and you wondered how many bottles he’d drank before finally deciding to come find you. Finally you both sought a new breath, taking a moment to close your eyes and collect yourself. When they fluttered back open you saw Beomgyu staring back at you intently, pupils reflecting the strands of lights strung above you.

He mumbled something so quietly that you couldn’t even hear it at your close distance.

“What was that?” You asked, wondering if you’d caught the end of a charmingly romantic thought.

“I said you’re in need of practice.” He smirked, leaning back of his hands cockily.

“Fuck you, man,” you slapped at his shoulder with a firm clap. He gasped, a hand covering his heart as if he were being sworn into a committee.

“Already? I didn’t take you for such an impure heart!” Another hearty laugh bounced around the library and you ducked your head into your hands, resigning to the fact that you were stuck with him.

1K notes · View notes

dadbodosamu · 3 years

Text

chemistry

Miya Osamu x Cis!Fem Reader x Miya Atsumu

WARNINGS: mutual masturbation, degradation, bullying, college au, they go to princeton but that’s not important, manhandling, Osamu has a jacob’s ladder bc i couldn’t resist, one (1) instance of daddy, squirting

3.3k words

You nearly groaned out loud as you saw Osamu and Atsumu making their way towards you. Could you not have one day without them making your life a living hell? You went to turn around, maybe to run, but a long, strong arm slung across your shoulders.

“Ah, ah, ah, where do ya think yer goin’, princess?” Atsumu asked.

“Yeah, don’t ya wanna see yer only friends?” Osamu asked, pinching your cheek a little too hard to be considered friendly.

“We’re not friends,” you mumbled, hugging your laptop to your chest. “Please leave me alone, I just want to study.”

“Study?” Atsumu asked. He laughed.

“We all know yer too dumb to pass anyway,” Osamu said.

“Why study if yer gonna fail anyway?” Atsumu asked.

Your face burned from embarrassment. You were currently failing one class, and no matter how hard you tried, you couldn’t get the hang of it. It sucked when your bullies were right.

“Maybe we should cut her some slack, Tsumu,” Osamu said. “If she fails, she’ll lose her scholarship and then who would we taunt?”

“Yer right, Samu,” Atsumu said. He turned you around back towards the library, your original destination. “Don’t worry, princess, Samu ‘nd I’ll help ya.”

“It’ll be hard gettin’ the information through yer thick head,” Osamu said, knocking his knuckle against your head painfully. “But we’ll do it.”

“Yer failin’ chemistry, right?” Atsumu asked. He opened the door to a private study room and shoved you in. You stumbled, catching yourself on the table and nearly dropping your laptop.

“Please, just leave me alone,” you said, standing up. “I can study by myself.”

“Aw, where’s the fun in that, sweetheart?” Osamu asked, pulling out a chair. He pushed you down into it and sat next to you.

“Don’t worry, we’ll set up a rewards system,” Atsumu said, sliding into the chair on your other side.

“For every question ya get right, Tsumu and I’ll take somethin’ off,” Osamu said.

“What? Why would I want that?” You asked, scoffing.

“Because, if ya get us naked,” Atsumu said. He looked at Osamu with a smirk. “We’ll let ya watch us get off.”

“Again, why would I want that?” You asked. Your stomach tightened at the thought of watching the twins jerk themselves off. The sounds they’d make. You bit your lip.

“Of course, there’s gotta be somethin’ in it for us,” Osamu said.

“Every question ya get wrong, ya gotta strip,” Atsumu said. He tugged at your jacket. “Hope ya got a lot of layers on.”

“No, no way,” you said.

“It’s cute ya think ya have a choice,” Osamu said. “Get yer work out.”

You opened your laptop, pulling up your chemistry homework.

“Question one,” Atsumu said. “What group of elements are all diatomic?”

You reached down to grab your textbook, only to have Osamu snatch it out of your hands.

“Ah, no cheating, sweetheart,” he said, smirking at you. “Answer the question.”

“Um, group eighteen, noble gases,” you guessed. Osamu tutted and pulled your jacket off your shoulders.

“Such a dumbass,” Atsumu said, leaning back and crossing his arms. “That’s high school chemistry.”

“Try again,” Osamu said, tossing your jacket across the table.

“Come on, ya should know this one,” Osamu said. So far, you’d lost your jacket, both of your shoes, and your shirt. The twins had lost their shoes and Osamu had lost his sweater while Atsumu was currently shirtless.

“Um, bromine has seven valence electrons,” you said.

Osamu grinned and pulled his t-shirt off as Atsumu unzipped his pants.

“Good girl,” Atsumu said, pushing his jeans down. You pointedly ignored the way his cock strained against his briefs, instead reading the next question.

“What is the oxidation state of chlorine, barium, potassium, and phosphorus?” Osamu asked.

“Uh, chlorine is negative one, barium is positive two, potassium is positive one, and phosphorus is… positive three?” You said.

Atsumu hissed. “So close, princess.”

“Phosphorus is negative three,” Osamu said. Atsumu reached behind you and smoothly undid your bra.

You instinctively crossed your arms as he pulled your bra off.

“Uh-uh,” Osamu said, tugging your arms away from your chest. Your breasts bounced heavily as the twins eyed you.

“Cute,” Atsumu said, pinching your nipple. You bit your lip to keep from moaning as Osamu groped your other breast.

“These tits almost make ya worth somethin’,” Osamu said.

“Maybe we should let her fail,” Atsumu said, rolling your nipple between his thumb and forefinger. “We can just keep her around for her tits.”

Osamu leaned down and sucked your nipple into his mouth. You couldn’t stop the moan that left your mouth.

“O-Osamu,” you moaned, tangling your fingers in his hair and pulling him closer.

“Next question,” Atsumu said, still squeezing your breast. “What group of elements is almost completely nonreactive?”

You struggled to think as Osamu’s tongue flicked against your nipple.

“No- fuck, Osamu- Noble gases,” you moaned. “Group eighteen.”

Osamu pulled back with a pop.

“Maybe yer not as dumb as we thought,” he said. He unzipped his jeans, momentarily pausing to palm his cock.

“I dunno, Samu,” Atsumu said, running his fingers under the elastic of his briefs. “Still think this head is empty.”

Atsumu pushed his briefs down. You swallowed thickly as his cock sprung out, bobbing heavily before resting against his toned stomach. His cock was longer than any you’d seen in person and thick enough that you knew just from looking at it that your fingers wouldn’t meet if you wrapped your hand around it. Your mouth watered as he wrapped his hand around the thick shaft and gave it a slow stroke. He moaned breathlessly.

“Next question,” Osamu asked. You tore your eyes away from Atsumu, licking your lips as Osamu asked the next question.

“Um, helium, neon, argon, krypton, xenon, and radon,” you said, glancing back at Atsumu. He was still slowly stroking his cock, head thrown back and the smallest moans leaving his lips.

Osamu snapped and raised an eyebrow. “That all?”

“Damn it, uh, fluorine?” You guessed.

“Lose the skirt,” Osamu said. You hesitantly stood up. You bit your lip as you ran your thumb along the hem of your skirt. You almost regretted wearing your lacy panties, but that had been the only clean pair of underwear you had. Anyway, at least you hadn’t worn your period panties. The last thing you needed was Osamu and Atsumu seeing you in your blood stained granny panties.

Atsumu let out a low whistle as your skirt fell around your ankles, revealing the white lace thong you were wearing.

“Were ya expectin’ to be a slut today?” Atsumu asked.

“Who would want to see ya in those, anyway?” Osamu asked, eyeing you as you sat back down.

You almost responded that they obviously wanted to see you in them, but you bit your tongue.

“What’s the next question?” You asked.

“What groups make up the periodic table?” Atsumu asked.

You opened your mouth to answer when Osamu’s hand landed on your bare thigh.

“The alkali metals,” you started. Osamu’s large hand moved, and his fingers fiddled with the hem of your panties. “Alkaline earth metals, transition metals are groups three through twelve, triels…”

Osamu’s hand slid under your panties.

“She’s soaked, Tsumu,” Osamu said, spreading your folds with his fingers.

“Shut up ‘nd let her answer the damn question,” Atsumu said. He pumped his cock, still at the same slow pace he had before.

“Tetrels,” you said. You shivered as Osamu pressed two fingers against your clit. “The pnictogens, chalcogens…” Osamu’s fingers moved slowly around over your clit, following the same pace as Atsumu. You moaned and spread your legs wider.

“Look at her, spreadin’ her legs like a slut,” Osamu said.

“Keep goin’,” Atsumu said. You didn’t know who he was talking to, but you continued.

“Halogens and noble gases,” you finished. You nearly whined as Osamu pulled his hand away.

“Good girl,” he said, pushing his boxers down. You greedily eyed him as he released his cock. Just as long as Atsumu’s and visibly thicker with a slight curve to the left and five piercings running along the underside. You licked your lips as he wrapped his hand around it, thumbing the slit.

“What are the families of the periodic table?” Osamu read. He moaned as he gently squeezed his cock, a bead of precum forming at the tip. You swallowed. “Want a taste, sweetheart?”

You couldn’t stop yourself from nodding. Osamu scooped the precum up with his thumb and pushed it between your lips. You reached up to grab his wrist as you licked the bitter liquid away. You moaned as he shoved his thumb deeper in your mouth.

“Answer the question,” Atsumu said. “Come on, it’s the last one, princess.”

You went to pull away from Osamu, but he grabbed the back of your neck and jerked you back, gagging you on his thumb.

“I didn’t say stop,” Osamu said. “Now, answer the question.”

Your voice was muffled by Osamu’s thumb.

“What was that? I can’t understand ya,” Atsumu said. “Speak clearly.”

You whined around Osamu’s thumb.

“Don’t know the answer?” Osamu asked, thrusting his thumb in your mouth. He smirked as you gagged again.

“Guess ya lose yer underwear,” Atsumu said. Osamu pulled his hand away from your mouth.

“I know the answer!” You cried.

“G’head, sweetheart,” Osamu said. He gently rolled his balls in his hand.

“The lithium family, beryllium family, the transition metals don’t have a family name, boron family, carbon family, nitrogen family, oxygen family, fluorine family, and helium/neon family,” you said. You smiled as the twins both leaned back, pumping their cocks at different paces. Atsumu was still stroking himself slowly while Osamu pumped himself off faster.

“Still think ya should lose yer panties,” Osamu said. He slowed down, squeezing his cock as precum leaked from the tip. “I wanna see that cute, lil cunt o’ yers.”

“I got the question right,” you said. You watched as he reached over to you, popping the elastic of your panties against your skin.

“Come on, let us see that needy pussy,” Atsumu said. “Yer already makin’ a mess of ‘em anyway.”

You bit your lip as you pushed your hips up, wrapping your thumbs around the sides of your panties and pulling them down. Osamu snatched them from you.

“Now, get up on the table and spread yer legs,” Osamu said. “Wanna see how ya touch yerself.”

You pushed your laptop out over the way, hopping up on the table and bracing your feet on a knee from each twin.

“Didn’t even argue,” Atsumu said. “Maybe she’s startin’ to get it.”

You ignored him as you reached down, rubbing a circle over your clit. You let out a soft moan.

“Fuck, she’s already leakin’ all over the table,” Osamu said. His hand moved faster. “Finger yerself fer us.”

“Fuck,” you hissed as you slipped two fingers in your tight hole. Atsumu threw his head back before lazily looking back at you.

“Feel good?” Atsumu asked. You nodded and moaned desperately.

“Imagine how much better it’d feel if it were my fingers in ya,” Osamu said. He squeezed around the base of his cock and groaned. You thrusted your fingers deeper as he fisted his cock.

“Please,” you whimpered. “Want you to touch me.”

“Hear that, Tsumu?” Osamu asked. “Lil slut wants me t’ touch her cunt.”

“Fuck you,” Atsumu growled. “I’d get her off faster and better than ya any day o’ the week.”

“Oh, yeah?” Osamu asked. “I’d have her cummin’ on my cock ‘fore I could even bottom out.”

“Fuck off,” Atsumu said, moaning as his cock twitched.

“Gonna cum already?” Osamu asked. “Like ya’d even last long enough t’ fuck her.”

You moaned loudly as your fingers scissored your walls open. Both twins snapped to face you as you threw your head back.

“Come on, sweetheart,” Osamu cooed. Your walls clenched around your fingers. “Gonna cum fer us?”

“Mm-hmm,” you hummed as your free hand squeezed your breast. You rolled your nipple between your thumb and forefinger.

“Rub yer clit,” Atsumu said. You pulled your fingers out of your cunt and rubbed them over your clit furiously.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck,” you cried. Your toes curled and the knot in your stomach tightened. Osamu groaned, pumping his cock at the same pace as your fingers.

“Wanna see ya cum,” Osamu said. “Cum fer me.”

You cried out as your vision went spotty and your eyes rolled back into your head. Your walls clenched around nothing as your juices gushed out, running down your skin into a puddle on the table.

“Fuck, come ‘ere,” Atsumu said. You stood up from the table, legs wobbling beneath you. “On yer knees.”

Atsumu stood up as you sank to your knees in front of him.

“Gonna cum all over that face o’ yers,” Atsumu grunted, jerking his cock quickly. You opened your mouth and let your tongue hang out, waiting patiently for him to cum. “That’s a good girl.”

Atsumu moaned as the first spurt of cum hit your tongue. He slowly pumped his cock as he covered your face with his cum. He breathed heavily as the last spurt of cum landed on your cheek.

You swallowed the cum on your tongue, licking your lips as Atsumu pulled his phone out.

“Hang yer tongue out again,” he ordered, pointing his phone’s camera towards you. “Now, that’s a sight. That’s lock screen material.”

You stuck your tongue out, looking up at Atsumu. He grabbed your tongue, pulling it out further. He let go, shoving three, long fingers down your throat. You gagged, grabbing his wrist.

“Next time, I’ll gag ya on my cock,” he said. “Wouldn’t ya like that, princess?”

You nodded as your eyes watered. He pulled his fingers out and lightly slapped your face twice.

“That’s my cockwhore,” he said, endearingly.

“My turn,” Osamu said. He grabbed your arm and yanked you towards him. You yelped as your knees slid painfully over the rough carpet.

Osamu was still seated, stroking his thick cock with your underwear around his hand.

“Come ‘ere,” Osamu said, pulling you up. He pulled you into his lap. He spread your legs over his and grabbed your hips as his cock slotted between you folds. You moaned as the tip of his cock hit your clit with every thrust he made.

“Fuck me,” you moaned, grabbing onto his forearms.

“Ya want my cock?” He asked, slowly grinding it against your wet folds. You nodded. “Just the tip.”

Osamu reached down and lined his cock up with your entrance. The fat, mushroomed head popped past the tight ring of muscles, resting just inside your walls. You moaned and ground against him, wanting him deeper.

“Ah, ah, I said just the tip,” Osamu said. He squeezed your hips painfully as he guided you along the tip of his cock. You whined as the tip went in and out of you.

“More, more,” you begged. Osamu shook his head and reached around you, rubbing your clit.

“‘M gonna make ya cum on my cock, okay, sweetheart?” Osamu asked. You nodded desperately.

Atsumu snapped another picture of your fucked out face as you leaned your head back on Osamu’s shoulder.

“Get a picture of her cunt,” Osamu said. Atsumu held the camera down in front of your cunt, snapping pictures as the head of Osamu’s cock teased you. Atsumu flashed the pictures to you and Osamu.

“Now that’s lock screen worthy,” Osamu said. “Send that to me.”

The picture was lewd. Osamu’s fingers spreading you out, revealing your swollen clit and the head of his cock halfway in you. You moaned.

“Gonna cum?” Osamu asked. You nodded, digging your nails into his forearms. Your legs shook as Atsumu pushed them further apart.

You cried out as Osamu slapped his cock against your clit. He shoved the head back in your walls before they clamped down on him. You came hard, juices squirting out of you, making a mess on Osamu’s thighs. He groaned as your cum leaked down his cock, covering his balls.

He ground against you as cum shot out of his cock, part of it filling you up before he pulled out, letting the rest of it land on your used pussy.

“That’s a picture worth taking,” Atsumu said, snapping a photo of your cum covered cunt as your chest heaved.

Osamu moved your legs together, reaching down and tugging your panties up. He stood you up on wobbly legs and pulled your panties into place over your cunt.

“I wanna see my cum still on ya later when ya touch yerself,” Osamu said. You nodded. “Now, what do ya say since we so graciously helped ya with yer chemistry? And we even rewarded ya so nicely.”

“Thank you,” you said, looking down at your feet.

“Thank you, what?” Atsumu asked. You looked up at him.

“Thank you, sir,” you mumbled. Atsumu smiled.

“What about Samu?” He asked.

“Thank you…” You paused and your face heated up at your thought. You’d almost called him daddy. He’d never let you live it down if you did.

“G’head, sweetheart, say it,” Osamu said, smirking.

“Thank you, daddy,” you said, quietly.

“Good girl,” he said, patting your head like a dog. “Now get dressed, I don’t wanna see yer slutty body anymore.”

Osamu pushed you down to your knees before turning away from you and dressing himself. You glared at him as you stood back up, pulling on your skirt. You wiped your face clean on your jacket after putting on your bra and shirt, and shoved it in your bag.

Osamu shoved his sweater into your arms.

“I don’t want our cumdump catching a cold,” he said. “Who else is gonna take our loads like a good girl?”

Any girl on the campus given half the chance, you thought. You stayed silent as you tugged the oversized sweater over your head. You slung your bag over your shoulder, grabbing your laptop and textbook.

Atsumu opened the door, pushing you out of it before the twins followed you out of the library.

“Yer knees are bleedin’,” Atsumu sneered as you stepped out of the library. You glanced down. Your knees were red from scraping against the carpet and they were indeed bleeding a little bit.

“Everyone’s gonna know ya were on yer knees for us,” Osamu said. He and Atsumu laughed as you dug in your bag for something to wipe the blood away with. Atsumu pushed you onto a bench before kneeling down in front of you, holding a napkin and a bottle of water in his hands. You didn’t say anything as he cleaned your knees off. You just stared at the wind ruffling his blond hair. Osamu silently handed him two bandages. Atsumu carefully placed the bandages on your knees before Osamu grabbed your hand and jerked you up. You stumbled into him. He pushed you away, never dropping your hand.

“Come on, let’s get ya to yer dorm before ya hurt somethin’ else,” Osamu said, glaring down at you. He held your hand tighter as you tried to pull it away.

“I don’t need you to walk me to my dorm,” you said, glaring at them as Osamu pulled you along.

“Stop fuckin’ yappin’,” Atsumu said. You flipped him off.

“Fuck you,” you snapped. He flipped your skirt up, flashing the people behind you your bare ass. “Atsumu!”

“What a slut, wearin’ those panties with such a short skirt,” Osamu said. He looked back, glaring at the guy behind you. “Bet ya like havin’ guys look at ya.”

“Let me go!” You exclaimed, pulling your hand away from him. “Fuck you!”

You hugged your laptop and textbook to your chest as you stormed away from the twins.

“Hey, if ya pass yer chemistry quiz, we’ll fuck ya next time!” Osamu called, smirking.

You flipped them off before running towards your dorm.

#samu thoughts #tsumu thoughts #miya thoughts #miya osamu x reader x miya atsumu #atsumu miya smut #atsumu miya x reader #miya osamu imagines #miya osamu x reader #miya osamu smut #osamu miya x reader #osamu miya smut #miya atsumu smut #miya atsumu x reader #miya atsumu #miya osamu #haikyuu smut #tw:bullying #tw:degradation

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