#probably I could have done more with the colors but I wanted to keep it simple on my first attempt
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I really like ur fics with Leon as a dad 🤍 can I request one where it’s angst at the start but happy at the end? I think with Leon’s job he’s probably alway moving to new places and his wife is kinda at the point where she just can’t take it and worried for their kid?
My Baby Here On Earth Showed Me What My Heart Was Worth
Husband!RE:Damnation!Leon x F!Reader
“The kids are sleeping now,” you quietly tell your husband as you get into bed with him.
He hums a response, setting aside a copy of William Faulkner’s The Sound and the Fury as he gets up. To go look at the kids one more time for the night, he says as he walks around the foot of the bed and towards the door. You wait until Leon noiselessly closes the door, his footsteps growing fainter as he grows more distanced from you, to sigh deeply, sitting up to lean against the cold headboard as you bury your face in your hands for a moment. You love Leon and you know that he loves you and your kids too but he’s grown increasingly distant with each passing day after coming home from deployment to the Eastern Slav Republic. You’ve done your best to show that you’re there for him, initiating conversations and even giving him simple compliments but the most he’s done is look in your direction and nod. A hum and a forced smile, if you’re lucky and he’s feeling less bad about himself. He still took care of the kids, driving them to school and playing with them in the afternoons but it’s clear that his mind is far from home. Even the kids could sense just how weary their father is, doing their best to cheer him up by giving him colorful drawings and letters. “Don’t be sad, daddy! Me, Ollie, and mama are here for yuo!” one of them reads, the word ‘you’ misspelled but Leon loved it nonetheless. For a quick moment he genuinely smiled whenever he read the letters and saw the drawings again before the frown took its place in his face again as he put the artwork in a folder and placed it back in the drawer cabinet.
You lifted your head from your hands when Leon walked back in, silent as always as he headed back to his side of the bed. You stared at him, urging him to say something–anything, just to dissolve the wall that he put up around himself but to no one’s surprise, he doesn’t speak. He checks the time on his phone and decides that it’s far too late to continue reading his book and sinks down beneath the covers, muttering a nearly inaudible ‘goodnight’ to you before he closes his eyes and drifts to sleep. Hurt, you scoff at how distant he feels. Physically, he’s home and with you but you know that emotionally and mentally, he’s still on the other side of the world and dealing with Tyrants, Lickers, and corrupt leaders. Turning the lamp off, you sink into the sheets as well and turn to face the wall. You have so much to say, so much to express to him but you’re afraid that this will only push him further from you even more. Worst case scenario, he packs his bags and sleeps in a hotel for a week before coming home plastered. He’s never done that before but you don’t want this rift to widen to the point he even considers doing that, maybe even leave behind the family he has with you for the enigmatic woman in red. Inhaling deeply, you shut your eyes before you speak to him. You don’t even think deeply about what you’re doing before your fears get to you and force you to shut up again.
“I can’t keep doing this, Leon.” You shakily begin. “We can’t keep doing this. I’m here for you, so are the kids, but you’re pushing us all away.”
“I need space.” He responds. Short and curt, straight to the point but you wish he said more.
“What does ‘space’ mean to you, Leon?” you gently ask as you sit up and face him who is still curled up on his side, his face hidden away like a secret. “I just want to know what I can do to support you while also giving you some time alone.”
“Leave me alone. There. That’s the kind of space I want,” he grumbles as he sits up, facing you. You stay silent for a moment, your sympathetic gaze on him but his eyes are elsewhere as he runs a hand through his dark hair, not wanting to see the look on your face.
“Okay. But let’s still talk, okay? Let’s voice out how we feel and communicate, I want to be able to provide you with what you need–”
“Why are you doing this?” Leon interrupts, not out of irritation but rather out of wonder. Your eyes widen for a quick moment before you inch a little near him, hesitant to reach out and place your hand on his hand.
“Because I care for you, Leon, and I don’t want to see you suffer alone. I want to be here for you and share the weight of the world on your shoulders too. You don’t have to keep it all to yourself, I can see it eating away at you.”
He doesn’t stop you when you take his hand, feeling the scars and calluses on them. He quite misses your touch, actually, but he felt like he was throwing himself a pity party whenever he thought about asking you for a hug or a kiss.
“I don’t want to bring home anything from work,” he explains. “I don’t plan on mixing it– work and home life… and I didn’t expect for it to get to this. That I’m pushing you and the kids away. I don’t… I don’t want my family to even think about how the monsters I’ve killed looked like or how I killed them. Something as precious as you three don’t deserve that. Our little ones, most of all.”
Pulling him in for the first hug in nearly two weeks, after two weeks of Leon trying to avoid your physical display of affection, he gives in. He leans his forehead on your shoulder but doesn’t wrap his arms around you and instead, lies limply on his side.
“Oh Leon,” you delicately whisper. Sushing and humming the same tune you used to hum when your toddlers were still tiny babies, you tenderly sway Leon from side to side in order to ease all the anguish he bottled up and refused to share. It doesn’t take long for his tears to wet your shoulder, his large frame shaken with stifled sobs. He went by “Condor One”, “Agent Kennedy”, and many other aliases required by his job but at the end of the day, he is your Leon Scott Kennedy. “Daddy”, as his dear children would call him.
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Leon slept in your arms, his head buried in your side with an arm slung around your stomach, for the first time in the longest time. He still shook and spoke in his sleep, flinching at times, but his sleep appeared to be much more restful. It was your turn to be unable to fall asleep now, a hand gently patting Leon’s shoulder blade with a watchful eye observing him. You were tired from the entire day and the crying you did with him hours ago but you couldn’t find it in you to doze off; you thought about your kids’ future and raising them, along with considering the fact that Leon was rarely home for a long time and was always moving to new places for indefinite periods. Each mission brought the fear that this would be the last time you’d see Leon alive, to be talking to you in person and that what would come home to you are two agents holding a folded flag, an urn, and what remained of his gear instead. It would be cruel for Leon, who proudly proclaims that his life has only begun when he met you. Leon, who knew what it meant to truly live when he found out that you were pregnant with his children. You knew that it also hurt Leon to leave at ungodly hours of the night when he was going to be deployed for a mission and to think that his kids would wonder where their daddy is and why he’s always gone. You’re used to Leon’s constant absence but it doesn’t hurt any less each time he has to go. His job is bad for your heart, constantly putting it in a state of worry and fear. It always stung whenever your kids asked if they could go with Leon when he had to leave on an “adventure” because they wanted to spend more time with him. You hated breaking the news to Leon that he’d have to miss out on another one of their school events, having to phone Chris or Patrick to attend in his place; he sounded so pained whenever he asked about the details of the event, his dreams of walking up the stage and being active in his childrens’ schooling playing in his head every time he closed his eyes for a quick nap before being back on his feet and killing monsters. Ultimately, you decided to give the kids a day trip with Leon since their only trip with Leon was when they were still babies. Sighing once more before giving sleep another try, you start to mentally compile all the things needed for tomorrow’s road trip.
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“She’s already got a stain on his shirt and the ice cream hasn’t even melted yet,” Leon says with an amused grin as he tries to wipe the chocolate off of Euphemia’s pink shirt with a wet wipe. You’re preoccupied with watching over the other twin Ollie, who’s trying to call a stray cat and give the kitty a lick of his vanilla ice cream. You look back at Leon, who’s giving his daughter kisses as he got the stain to look a lot less dark than it was earlier.
“Pheme still tends to get ice cream everywhere,” you softly tell him as you offer another set of wipes, to which he declines since the stain isn’t obvious and the wipes could be used for later. Leon smiles when he notices you use the nickname he gave to Euphemia; he’s managed to get you to use this one instead of his other loving nickname for Oliver, “Rolliver Polliver”, derived from when Ollie almost ate a roly poly bug.
All of you finish eating ice cream without getting any more stains or a cat being fed something it shouldn’t be fed and get back to the car, hitting the road once more. Queen, Hall & Oates, Elton John, and The Flamingos have been traded for nursery rhymes and songs to induce sleep in toddlers in order to get them to nap a little bit. Instead of Leon sitting in the passenger seat with you, he decided to sit at the back in between the kids in order to spend some time being near them on the road trip. The twins seemed to have gotten their habit of sleeping with their head leaned back and mouth slightly ajar while softly snoring from Leon, who is also asleep with his hands on their child car seat. Caught in a red light, you quietly observe this tender moment in the front and snap a few pictures of them with your digital camera from 1989 that still surprisingly works well. You giggle at the sight behind you, heart melting at seeing your husband and children look so adorable. His jacket is on your lap when you told him that you were feeling a little chilly, insisting that he’s fine in the back without one. Just earlier, he was making funny faces and holding a serious, one-sided conversation with his little ones, making them laugh and giggle at his every word and now they’re all asleep together. If it means having more moments like this, you’re ready to fight the D.S.O. for keeping your husband occupied on the other side of the world. You guess that it’s also moments like these that Leon continues to fight bioterrorism so that other families can safely enjoy moments like this one without worrying about monsters coming to harm their loved ones. Since the red light is still going and you seem to have been caught in a moderate traffic, you take out your video cam and film the soft scene behind you. “Papa and the kiddos are sleeping together, their snoring isn’t in sync so there’s no moment of silence for me but I don’t mind. I love you all so much and momma is very happy right now.”
After nearly four hours of driving, you four finally get to the cliff overlooking the great wide sea. Parking your car to a safe place, you take out the picnic basket and start preparing your spot. You two chose a spot underneath the shade of a thick tuliptree, a cover from the hot sun. The kids have been asking so much about finally being able to play soccer and ‘helicopter’, a game where Pheme and Ollie hang from Leon’s arms as he spins around (the twins have promised to never, ever play ‘helicopter’ again because they got dizzy but they seem to have ‘forgotten’ it this time) and you explained that they can play an hour after having the picnic and when the sun isn’t so hot anymore. Leon agrees and although the twins don’t seem too happy, they don’t appear to mind it that much since they’re eager to help Leon in unloading the car (he gave them the lighter tasks). As soon as the food is set and most of the bugs have been successfully warded off, the twins gather to sit beside you but before everyone can take a bite of the sandwiches, Leon gets up and takes the digital camera and snaps a couple of pictures, even attempting a selfie at one point. Soon, everyone digs into their sandwiches and stuffs their faces full of the snacks you and Leon prepared together in the morning.
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After what felt like the nth picture Leon has taken of you and the twins, he finally puts the camera down and puts it back in its case but picks up the video cam instead. The twins groan, urging their dad for more playtime even if they’re drenched in sweat with dirty knees.
“5 minutes,” Leon says as he starts recording. “Papa’s back hurts. Why don’t you ask mama?”
“Mama already played! She can’t carry us and she says she’s also tired! She’s reading now!” Pheme exclaims.
He points the camera towards you, reading a pocketbook in the picnic basket while dabbing your forehead and neck with a towel. He laughs and calls you, causing you to look up from the book you were engrossed with and blow him a kiss. He laughs one more time, ‘catching’ the kiss and placing it inside his shorts pocket which gets a giggle out of you.
“My beautiful wife is uhh sitting there, she’s reading.” He narrates as he zooms in. “Very beautiful, the sunlight is hitting her just right. Gosh, she makes me nervous and she doesn’t even know. Love her very much.”
He zooms out and zooms into his children, who decide to take interest in the rocks and starts flinging them towards the cliff with the intention to try to fling it to the ocean, which is quite far from where they are.
“Hey kiddos,” he says as he walks up to them and pats them with his free hand. “What’re you doin’?”
“We’re trying to throw rocks into the ocean!” Ollie and Pheme cheerfully explain, showing their rocks to the lens before flinging it with all their tiny might.
“Ooh, that’s quite far honey,” Leon comments. “Want me to try?”
The twins cheer and he takes that as an opportunity to throw one, the recording being temporarily shaky.
“Woah! You threw it far, papa!” The twins say and clap, determined to throw it as far as he did. He helps the twins throw it, focused on teaching them how to aim and the force they need to exert to fling it a little farther.
After several minutes of flinging rocks and random conversations with your husband and your kids, you call them over to look at the pictures Leon has taken. Everyone gathers around you as you look at each one, oohing and aahing at Leon’s photography skills. Leon focuses the cam on the pictures popping up in the digital camera, chipping in with his thoughts.
“Mommy looks amazing there,” he breathily says. “Divine. What’d you think, Pheme?”
“So pretty!” She beams before giving you a big kiss on the cheek. Ollie giggles and snuggles closer to you, occasionally pointing to the pictures.
Like you guessed, most of the pictures are of you, the kids, or both. Observant like their dad, they picked up on this as well.
“Pa, you’re not in a lot of the photos! It’s always us or mama!”
Leon chuckled, ruffling his kids’ heads. He extends a pointer finger to a shadow in the image before you switch to another one, pointing to the tall shadow once again.
“That’s me,” Leon explains. “I’m the shadow.”
His twins seem confused, falling into silence along with you, who is also intrigued by Leon’s words.
“When you look at these pictures when you’re bigger, I want you all to know that I’m always here. These are proofs that I’m with you because I’m the shadow and I’ll always look out for all three of you,” he explains
The twins say ‘aww’ at the same time and tackle his legs, hugging him tight. While you set the camera down and look at Leon with a small pout and slightly glossy eyes. Leon chuckles softly and places a free hand on your face, his thumb gently stroking your cheek before you join your twins in giving him a big bear hug as you wrap your arms around his neck.
“I love you, Leon.” You softly tell him, warm breath fanning against his neck.
“Me too, sweetheart. I love you more.” He tenderly responds as he hugs you and the kids back.
He’s thankful that this tender moment is caught on camera so he can rewatch it several more times before he goes to bed.
NOTE - I hope you liked this fic anon!!! At first, I wasn't super confident about writing this or how it'll turn out but I think it turned out nicely ngl :) YALL. I finally got my driver's license. I can drive. Do I know how to? I know the theoretical aspects of it but driving itself? Running a motor vehicle? I have yet to learn (it's on June 20-21 and my dad will teach me until I get better)... I also scarfed down a big spicy bowl of ramen coz I didn't have breakfast this morning <3 Also, It's not rlly embarrassing for me to be writing fics while my parents r sitting at the back (I'm at my living room) but making the border??? Looking for pics of Leon??? It's embarassing for me 😭😭 My dad said that my Chris capcorom looks like a Bánh bò and ngl I kinda see it 😭😭 There's a Japanese mall where I live and I'll be going there tomorrow so hopefully yk there's a copy of any RE book or manga (PLEASEPLEASEPLE) Anyways, that's it and thank you for readings my fics!!!!!! I <33333 UUUUUUUUUU!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
The wavy divider was made by @kaitsawamura , the images are made by me (sourced from Pinterest).
#leon kennedy#resident evil#leon kennedy x y/n#fluff#leon kennedy x reader#leon scott kennedy#leon kennedy fluff#leon s kennedy#leon s kennedy fluff#biohazard#resident evil damnation#resident evil x reader#leon kennedy x you#resident evil x you#leon s kennedy x reader#dad leon kennedy#dad leon s kennedy#leon kennedy dad#husband leon kennedy#leon kennedy angst#leon kennedy x fem reader
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LOVE YOUR WRITINGS, COULD YOU DO SCENE QUEEN X JOOST HEADCANNONS?? SFW AND NSFW IF YOU WANT :3
SCENE QUEEN🎀๋࣭ ⭑
|Summary:Headcannons of joost dating a major scene queen, so RAD, YAH!
|Content Warning⚠️:Nsfw
SFW ⭑:
Loves helping you pick between your tutus and miniskirts, the craziest patterns and the most puffy tutus he could find in your closet, sometimes will even put them on just to get a laugh from you
Adores playing with your hair no matter how fried and burnt it is, it's your hair, and he loves the way you've styled it to match how you dress
KANDI! On boring days where you choose to make kandi bracelets of your favorite scene bands and emo musicians, he'll be there to help you, and also rage if he ends up dropping a bracelet or breaking it.
Will he wear the kandi bracelets you make? Heck yeah he will! And he'll stack em up on his arm and drawers if you really make A LOT.
Hell always ask you to let him play with your hair, straighten it, help you trim it, tease it? You name it aslong as he can get his hands on your hair!
He loves how crazy it looks, and if it dosent look poofy and big enough, he'll be there to help you out, you'll both struggle as you try to get that scene queen look. It's not easy after all
Hot topic, if your on travel with him somewhere that has hot topic, expect yourself to leave with handful of bags, despite the fact that hot topic isn't the same anymore, atleast you'll get your hands on all those brendon urie funko pops they keep in there, and he'll pay for all of it if it makes you happy
Always suggesting new makeup looks, and if he could imagine any that he knows would fit you he'll help, (ryan ross makeup look....) ദ്ദി(˵ •̀ ᴗ - ˵ )
If your done clubbing/partying and your back home and he's coherent enough, he'll help you take out those accessories on your hair and slipping off your knee high tall converse/heels. Cleaning off your makeup and helping you slip into something comfortable
You wanna try teasing his hair? No problem, but it's probably not gonna work huh...
If you have those brass nuckle bracelets he loves playing with them, goofing around and pretending like he's wearing them
Hell help you dye your hair any day any time, maybe even picking out the colors he knows you'd like and combing them with others. You love plotting what to do with your hair together
NSFW⭑:
Loves pulling at your hair, enough to not hurt you too much but he loves the way your hair goes from looking poofy to completely messy, it fits you and he loves it
Cumming in your colorful panties and helping you slip them on so you can feel the warmth of his cum on your cunt if you both are too lazy to fuck properly
Fucking you in your room against anything that reflects your face so you can see the way your makeup runs down your face and your hair gripped and ruined as he nudges further against your sweet spot.
Head while your still wearing your scene queen fit, those pretty accessories on your hair and your eyes all damp and red from taking his cock into your warm mouth
Loves the way your tight clothes fit around your body, you just always manage to look pretty and gorgeous.
Loves watching all those necklaces you have on moving up and down with each sharp breath you take when he's fucking you, his cock is ruining you so much and the necklaces just make him pay more attention to the way he's ruining you.
Loves watching you try to keep your tiara on your head with each harsh thrust. But it always is the same outcome of it falling once he cums inside of you and your too much of a mess to focus on anything but the way your cunt is being filled up by joost
Sorry if this was not it....the sfw outweighed the nsfw as much as I wanted to keep it 50/50 hope this was worth it tho! Scene queens, come back the kids miss your tiaras (˶ᵔ ᵕ ᵔ˶)
#smut#free joost#joost klein#joost klein smut#joostice#reader insert#smoking#x fem!reader#joost x reader#reading#feminism#scenecore#scene#2000s emo#emo scene#panic! at the disco#scene queen#scene kid#scene king#x reader#headcanon#red hair
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I Told You It Would Happen
This can be a standalone or part three to something’s missing.
Art Donaldson x Reader
Summary: you are art finally got the news you had been waiting for.
It had been another month or two since you last took a test. You and Art decided to keep trying but try not to get too excited yet because it could take a while. However, you started having some symptoms you couldn’t ignore. The biggest being a missed period. When you noticed you wanted to jump up and down and tell Art, but then you thought about how disappointed he’d be if it was another negative. So you decided that you would just take the test alone while he was training.
As you sat in the bathroom waiting for the results of the test you felt guilty. Art had been right by your side every other time. Would he feel left out? Would he want to be here? You knew he’s want to be here weather it was positive or negative, you suddenly decided to cover up the test with a towel and wait for him to get home. You forced yourself to do everything in your power not to look at the test. “It’s probably negative” you kept telling yourself. You went for a long walk to try and distract yourself from what could be the best thing that’s ever happened to you (besides Art). You saw the time and knew Art would be home soon so you rushed back to the house. As you got to your house Art pulled into the drive way meeting him at the door. He looked surprised to see you out for a walk, it was kind of out of the ordinary for you.
“Whatcha doing babe?” Your husband asked wrapping his arms around you giving you a quick kiss.
“Just uh enjoying our beautiful neighborhood, why?” You answered clearly hiding something, you were a terrible liar and Art knew it.
“Yeah? What’s going on y/n/n?” Art asked you suspiciously neither of you opening the door yet
“I - um - I… I thought maybe I was pregnant because I missed my period so I was gonna take a test and not tell you unless it was positive because I didn’t want you to be disappointed but then I felt so guilty because I knew you would still want to be there no matter what the test said so I covered the test before I could see the results so that I could wait for you so we could both look and I’ve been trying so hard not to look and I’m kind of freaking out” you blurred out somehow all in one breath. Art waited a minute making sure you were done, you noticed a small smile growing on his face
“What? Are you mad?” You asked
“You think you’re pregnant?” He whispered sweetly
“Well I don’t know maybe” you replied still in panic mode
“What are we waiting for let’s go see if we’re parents!” Art happily replied pulling you in the door, you followed him to the master bathroom.
“You look. I can’t.” You ordered him gesturing to the towel the test was under.
“Are you sure?” He asked
“Yes now do it!” You barked desperate to know what it said. You watched him slowly lift the towel up looking at the test so only he could see it. His face was blank and you were sure it was negative
“What? What does it say?!” You suddenly we’re mad that you told Art just for it to be negative. His face still not showing anything. He looked down and you saw a smile form on his face. He looked at you
“We’re gonna be parents” he said quietly with tears in his eyes.
“What!? Lemme see!” You ripped the test from him.
“Oh my god!” You yelled grabbing arts face with the test still in your hand now you were both crying Art more than you
“You’re pregnant” Art cried pulling you in for the tightest hug ever
“I’m pregnant!” You cried back, Art dropped to his knees hugging your abdomen
“I told you it would happen” he said kissing you stomach. Your heart felt like it was glowing.
The rest on the night you practically stayed in the same position. You layer in bed and art layer by your stomach with his arms hugging your non existent baby bump. The night was filled with tears of joy, cuddles, and talk of nursery colors, names, what the baby would look like. Art even talked about giving them siblings but you reminded him that you guys should just focus on this one for now.
Art was right, it did happen.
#art donaldson#art donaldson x reader#art donaldson x you#challengers fic#patrick zweig#art#tashi duncan#challangers#art donaldson fluff
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old man yells at cloud about constant sequels
#i wantttttt to like the beetlejuice sequel (just saw the trailer) and i don't want to be a hater. however#i dont knowwwww i mean theres a lot of callbacks to the original. which is good. its just#maybe its seeing some of these same effects done in cgi. or something#like it just looks like every other modern movie except w some of that beetlejuice imagery#im assuming the sandworms are cgi. bring back the claymationnnn bring back practical effectssss#idk im just really getting to hate the way movies nowadays look that are likely shot digitally and are just so subdued color wise#is any of this making sense.#like thinking of the original beetlejuice like whoa the colors were popping! greens reds purples!#and theyre so important and tied to the look of the movie and how it sticks in your mind#(im sorry. beetlejuice has always been one of my favorite movies. but anyway)#and now the sequel just looks ehhhh. you know#also we still should have had beetlejuice goes hawaiian instead. if we had to have a sequel#plus the story of the sequel seems so dependent on the story of the first movie like is there going to be anything original?#what made the first movie so good was not only was it a fun different storyline of these ghosts and everything#but it was also a good satire of the yuppies of that era as well as the idea of the afterlife and ghosts and all that. which was different!#im probably not making all of my points clearly and this doesnt really matter anyway but anyway#i need movies to be standalone movies. i dont want everything to be part of a series#i dont want beetlejuice to be called beetlejuice 1#bc then ill be saying 'back in my day we had only one beetlejuice'#LIKE. yes some movies are really good and you could watch a whole tv show more with the characters in that movie#but it doesnt actually have to be made. thats for you to imagine in your mind#like wow i love those characters in beetlejuice. i wonder what it would be like going forward for these people to live with ghosts#but thats for you and your imagination!!!! ugh i dont know is any of this making sense i ask again. i keep trying to wrap up this post#but im very passionate about films and as i think about my own main movie idea/screenplay#i love my characters and i could put them in dozens of scenarios that would be very funny for them to deal with#but i dont think they need a five film series. the one movie is enough for the main storyline#ok im going to eat something. enough bitching from me about the current state of film
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a sort of kinship with the wolf
#em draws stuff#frontier wolf#slightly belated summer of sutcliff#time for a hilarion! or at least an attempt at one#recently I acquired a very nice reference book so I no longer feel utterly lost when it comes to the right outfits for the location and time#it was fun trying to cobble together different stuff and try to make something that seemed right for the image in my head as well#probably I could have done more with the colors but I wanted to keep it simple on my first attempt#and note that it Is a first attempt and this is decidedly not my era of expertise#so the inaccuracies that I'm sure are there are utterly accidental and thoroughly guilted over as it is#I did a full rendered background for this but then it looked terrible so I scrapped it and did some more of my favorite swishy shapes#which is why I had the swords book out at midnight in the first place...
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somebody i follow for fandom reasons was talking about having bought an adult tricycle, and it got me wondering abt pros and cons and why adult tricycles aren't more of a Thing, so i did some reading and got halfway thru a very talky post laying them out and then abruptly realized: none of u care, lol. like dgmw i'm sure a number of u would very nicely click the lil heart like the collection of good eggs u are but like. what would i be achieving by writing that up. this is not a bicycle interest community.
(short version is that a bicycle behaves more like it's part of yr body in a variety of ways, and so as long as yr body works well—big 'if' obviously!—that often makes for a smoother and more intuitive ride: balance around corners is the really big thing here, but also tricycles apparently require you to (1) compensate for road camber with yr steering; (2) keep three different wheel trajectories clear of surface hazards instead of just one; and (3) remember that the vehicle you're maneuvering is wider than your body and requires more clearance. that said, if you have trouble balancing on two wheels, and/or srs bzns Cargo to carry, then a trike may be the bike for you!)
(ok obviously i lied abt not making that post but i guess i really wanted to make it so. there u are. click the lil heart like a good 🥚.)
#a trike is definitely not the bike for me bc i would not do a good job of keeping track of my back wheels#also i'm imagining trying to get around on one in NYC and like. no thank u lol#but probably in a chill wide country setting you could do a full grocery run on a trike instead of just a couple bags max#on the other hand frequent small grocery trips are my jam bc i hate preplanning#so like. Depends on Yr Parameters and Objectives as with. most things really#ok also if we're being VERY honest a tricycle would not be gender-affirming 4 me personally#like. my gender associations around bicycles are FULLY redacted here bc they are NOT revolutionary in the slightest#and none of u need that shit#but. 4 me personally... i want a sporty boy bike. even when i wore dresses ever i wanted a sporty boy bike. it's dumb but there you have it.#(briefly i had my ideal bike which was obnoxious acid green and then it got stolen from outside sloan kettering)#(which like. truly a bad day. yr mother is dying AND yr bike gets stolen. one problem clearly bigger than the other but neither one fun!)#(the one i have now is‚ like‚ sparkly unicorn white bc that's the color that was on sale but what can you do)#(i was half-tempted to get myself a new fancy one as a gradumatation present—which i still haven't done anything to recognize‚ lol—#but i really haven't had this one long enough for that to be reasonable. it's fine i'm just like. living a very vanyel life lmao)#in conclusion writing all this has made me realize i GOTTA bicycle more. i've atrophied into SUCH a limp noodle and i miss it awfully#it's just like. i'm always tired. :(#right ok this uh. this sure has been a post. thx for spending this time with me!
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hehehe
#the bin#choosing to stop putting much care or effort into my art looking good. i mean. i keep trying to do this. most of what i post is stuff like#that which is why i rarely post. frequently its stuff i actually did intend to do more with but just didnt have the energy and gave up#well i finally did some digital art again. doodle of eternity larva. havent finished it. i think ill probably go back to it eventually but#right now its just a sketchy doodle and im ok with it staying that way. gonna try being ok with my digital art being just that#a lot of the sketchy stuff ive posted is actually stuff i consider wips but like. i put stuff down bc im bored with it and pick it back up#way later after. many months between. recent thing i posted didnt actually take that long in time spent drawing it but it was done over the#2 years. i only actual spent a few days working on it and only a short period on those days but still. im happy with the drawing tho so its#fine. therss no time limit to wips. i could color my art from 6 years ago if i wanted. who care.#well. im prob gonna be doing sketch dumps at some point once ive fixed my dumb brain. and ill probably do better versions if a lot of them#way later. most will probably stay silly sketches though.
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DESIRE (M) — PART ONE
he wants you. you want jeno. desire is a jealous little thing, isn't it y/n?
PAIRING. slytherin!haechan x hufflepuff!reader ft. gryffindor!jeno
WC. 12.1k
GENRE. harry potter au!, smut
WARNINGS. cursing, drinking, depictions of breaking a bone, solo male smut, haechan is sort of a perv in one (1) scene, oral male receiving, just really sloppy head <3, haechan does fuck someone in detail and he's mean abt it, but it's not y/n (oops spoiler of sorts), blonde!haechan, he's not a good person, so don't expect him to be. he's a big ole meanie with a longtime crush on reader.
A.N. this has been in the drafts for like three years. i want it out, so i'm splitting it into two parts :)
The Mirror of Erised - The mirror shows the most desperate desire of a person's heart, a vision that has been known to drive men mad.
He loves you.
But he fucking hates it.
First year he was holding hands with you, sitting next to your huddled body on the train, and later sharing a meal in the great hall. Second year he saw you clinging onto him as he flew you over the quidditch field. Third year he watched the both of you sneak out to explore the restricted section in the library and run around the castle late at night. Fourth year he saw you in a beautiful dress as he took you to the yule ball. Fifth year he was kissing you on the astronomy tower. Sixth year you went down on him, and all he could do was watch and pretend that his hand was your mouth.
Now it’s seventh year.
Though the actions changed, it was always you he saw in the mirror, and he fucking hated it. Ever since first year, when all he knew was that you were cute and funny, there you were, taunting and teasing him in that godforsaken mirror.
And yet, he always comes back to sit and watch.
Just like tonight.
The train only arrived an hour ago, but instead of filing into the great hall to see which house the first years would be sorted into, he’s sitting on the floor in the room of requirement, back against a dusty chest of drawers, and eyes narrowed down to slits as he watches the scene unfold in the mirror before him.
It always starts with you appearing out of thin air. You’re wearing your house colors – a small grey skirt, barely covering the swell of your ass and a yellow button up. You’re rid of the required tie, but only for a second, only until Haechan shows up to stand behind you in the mirror with it stretched between his fists.
He shifts in his place on the ground. It wasn’t real, but lord have mercy, he wished it were.
In the mirror he watches himself loop the tie around your wrists, which were set behind your back. You were so beautiful, smiling up at him with those luminous eyes, and your lips parted in a sinful smile.
Under his robes, his hand inches across the flat of his stomach, towards the growing bulge in his pants. It was becoming hotter in the room, almost stifling, but if someone were to come in, he couldn’t be caught half naked. He’d have to get by fully clothed.
God, he despised the way you made him feel; so desperate for any sort of friction, anything to help relieve himself of the aching lust he felt in the pit of his stomach.
When his reflection is done tying your wrists together, a desk appears. He recognizes it as the one from potions class. His mouth drops open in an O as he watches himself back you up, so you were sandwiched between the desk and his broad chest.
His hand disappears under your skirt, and he could only imagine what his reflection was doing. Could only imagine how good you probably felt clenching around his fingers, gasping at his touch. Feeling pleasure because of him.
Your body arches against his, head dropping down to rest on his shoulder. He watches his lips move against your ear, but he couldn’t hear what he was saying.
Biggest fucking curse of the century.
Stupid mirror should come with speakers, he thinks.
It was becoming increasingly more difficult to keep his composure, skin slick with sweat, and hands buzzing with the temptation to touch himself.
Fuck you, y/l/n
He watches as his mirror persona spins you around and pushes you flat against the desk, yanking your skirt up around your waist to bare your glistening pussy.
It’s never been this explicit, and he can’t help himself. Tentative fingers wrap around his cock. He throws his head back and hisses between his teeth; it felt too fucking good. His eyes snap open. There was no way he was going to miss the rest of the show, not when it was just getting good.
In the mirror, his cock replaces his fingers. He watches himself inch his way into you slowly. Watches your mouth loll open, eyes glazed over. You were already fucked out and he had barely started.
Haechans hands stroke himself under his robes as he watches the scene in front of him. He was having a hard time keeping his hips still, bucking up into his fist. He softly groans to himself when he sees his reflection grab your tied hands and pull back, fucking himself into you faster.
It was so unfair, so embarrassing, that he had to resort to getting off in front of a mirror displaying his deepest fantasy. It was so unfair that it was always you.
So Haechan sits there, watching the mirrored version of himself completely ruin you, while trying to pretend that his hand is your dripping cunt. He sits there thinking of all the things he would do to you if you would give him the time of day.
Fuck you y/n.
The first years had already been sorted by the time he arrived. In fact, dinner was almost over.
He makes his way to the Slytherin table where his friends were loudly joking. Renjun was the first to notice when he sat down and slides him a half-eaten piece of pie.
“Where were you?”
Through a mouthful of blueberry pie, Haechan acknowledges him, “I had to take care of some things.”
He shuts the discussion down quick. No need for them to know he shoved in a dusty room with his cock in his fist, and his mind full of you.
Speaking of which...
His eyes scan the great hall till he sees you sitting with your roommates, Jihyo and Mina. He almost chokes on the next bite when he realizes you were wearing the same outfit you had on in the mirror.
“Fucking hell man, don’t die,” Chenle slides him a glass of water, “We thought we were gonna have to sneak you some food back to the dorms.”
He gulps down the water and taps the glass with his ring clad pointer finger, automatically refilling it. The silver metal makes a tink sound against the glass. “Well, like I said, I had some things to take care of.”
Why the fuck did his friends have to be so damn nosy. A guy couldn't disappear for an hour?
���And was Y/N one of those things?” Chenle snorts.
The rest of the table bursts into laughter, louder than the entire great hall combined, and it makes you peek your head in their direction. Haechan drops his gaze away from you, grabs a stray spoon and chucks it at Chenle, hitting him square in the chest, “Shut up.”
“Dude, we all know you've been sweet on her since, what, first year?” Renjun snickers.
Chenle wipes the gunk that splattered off the spoon from his robes, ‘Yeah, we’re not blind man. I mean, she might be, but not us.”
"Sweet on her? What the fuck is this Renjun, the nineteen-fifties?" Haechan doesn't do anything but scowl. He hates how his friends knew. Hell, pretty much all Slytherins that knew him, knew.
His eyes flick up and catch yours. A soft smile forms on your lips, and he returns it. He hand twitched up for a wave, but Jeno, the infamous Gryffindor Seeker, sits beside you and steals your attention away.
“Ah look, now you’re too late.”
“Could’ve had a chance dude.”
Haechan turns to his friends and gives them a death stare, “Next word out of you guys and I’m gonna stuff the rest of this pie down your fucking throats.”
With a roll of their eyes, they turn their heads and start to talk amongst themselves about the new school year. Haechan can’t immerse himself in such conversation. His attention is pointed solely on you and the kiss ass that was Lee Jeno.
One of his arms sat slung around your shoulders, his face dangerously close to yours, but for some reason, you weren’t pushing him away, you were laughing.
Why weren’t you pushing him away?
Something in Haechan snaps when he watches Jeno lean his forehead against yours, both of you sharing wide smiles. It’s as if his heart was set on fire, the heat threading itself through his body and taking home in his hands. Oh, how he wanted to go punch that smile right off of Jeno’s lips. Smash his fist in his face and leave a nice mark, bloody broken gums bleeding.
Bet he wouldn’t smile at you then.
Haechan knows it’s insane. He does, but he quite honestly doesn’t give a single broom-flying fuck.
With determination, Haechan stood, pushing his chair back, and ignoring the calls from his friends. Everybody he walks past is enjoying their first-day-back meals, but Haechan has something else on his mind.
He walks by your table, hearing the pretty lilt of your voice chatting away with your friends as Jeno hangs off your side. Haechan’s tongue pokes his cheek in jealousy, but he walks right past without a word, no matter how much his brain is screaming at him to just hit Jeno.
Making it to the doors that seal off the great hall from the main corridor, he draws his wand out from his robes and flicks his wrist.
“Aguamenti”
A jet of clear water shoots out from the tip of his wand and smacks the side of Jenos head, effectively drenching him from head to toe.
Haechan stays for a split second, just to watch you and your friends erupt in a fit of giggles while Jeno picks at his wet robes.
He smiles triumphantly before slipping out into the hallway and sprinting to the Slytherin dormitory.
Haechan 1, Jeno 0
The first night back at Hogwarts; The first night back home.
You and your dormmates lounge in the common room and stare into the fire whilst making small talk. It had been a while since seeing them, but you had kept in touch out in the muggle world.
Jihyo hung her head over the arm of the couch, the rest of her body sprawled out and cozily covered with a blanket, attempting to toss popcorn in the air and catch it in her mouth. Her success rate, however, left the floor scattered with smashed pieces and kernels.
Mina sat on the end of the couch with Jihyo's feet in her lap, occasionally contributing to the conversation but mostly engrossed in her textbooks. It wasn't even the first day of actual classes, yet here she was, staying ahead. If you didn't know her kind nature, you'd think she belonged in Ravenclaw.
You were slung in the other chair opposite of them, fiddling with your wand. The end was slightly cracked from where you had accidentally stepped on it one day and it was worrying you. The last thing you needed right now was another trip to Olivanders.
“I’m just saying Y/N, I think Jeno really does like you!” Jihyo insisted, throwing another piece of popcorn in the air only to get hit in the face with it seconds later.
Mina snorts without looking up and Jihyo makes a face at her that she doesn’t see but leaves you giggling. You twist your wand around your fingers, something you learned back in second year, “Well if he does, he hasn’t said anything.”
Mina hums in agreement but Jihyo thinks differently, “He wouldn’t have offered to take you broom flying after hours if he didn’t like you.”
Shrugging your shoulders you turn to the fire, the burning warmth spreading over your chest. “Maybe he just wants some pussy.”
“Well, you better take the chance before I do. He can show me his broomstick anytime.” She winks in your direction sending you into a giggle fit. Mina rolls her eyes but continues reading her textbook. The both of you were used to Jihyos sexual jokes, but they never failed to make you laugh and Mina cringe.
A brief silence passed before you spoke, “Okay, but you have to agree, whoever splashed him at dinner tonight has it coming.”
“What do you mean whoever it was?” Mina piped up, giving you an inquisitive look.
“I didn’t see who it was, did y’all?” you asked, mildly confused. The water had seemingly come out of nowhere, and everyone around Jeno had denied responsibility. With everyone denying it, you suspected it might have been one of the lingering spirits.
“Are you kidding me, Y/N? He couldn’t have been any more obvious,” Jihyo said incredulously, sitting up to look straight at you, abandoning her bag of popcorn.
Were you supposed to have known who the culprit was? You were too busy watching Jeno splutter and gasp to have paid much attention to your surroundings. One thing she said caught your attention, “He?”
“Haechan? Lee Donghyuck?” Mina says slowly.
Jihyo chimed in, “He was walking toward our table all angry, and then when he made it to the doors, he turned around and used the Aguamenti spell.” Your mouth dropped open with every word she said, “Don’t tell me you didn’t notice?!”
“I didn’t!” you argue defensively.
“Oh, and before that, he was staring at you.” Mina added, closing her textbook and standing up, dumping Jihyo's feet on the ground.
“I knew he was staring.” You say, chewing on your bottom lip, “Are you guys for sure he was the one?”
“I’m telling you,” Jihyo starts, “We both saw him.”
Emotions bubble in your chest. You were pissed off for sure. Who did Haechan think he was getting in your business like that, especially given the history, or lack thereof.
Ever since you met the Slytherin boy, he had despised you. There was something about you that completely irritated him, and no matter how hard you tried, he just wouldn’t be your friend. He wouldn’t even talk to you, only stare and mess with your relationships. Every time you were getting close with a boy, he would get in the way, first with Mark and now Jeno? This was becoming an issue, and one that you needed to correct soon.
“I’m heading to bed.” Mina says, waving goodbye and heading off to her room.
You and Jihyo are left to stare at each other. She narrows her eyes down to slits, “Don’t get any ideas.”
“I’m not,” you spun the wand faster around your fingers, twisting and spinning it until it dropped into your palm, “I’m just going to remind him who the hell I am.”
“That’s not very Hufflepuff of you.” she giggles, reaching for more popcorn and shoving it in her mouth.
Your grip your wand tightly, “Hufflepuff or not, Lee Donghyuck needs to learn who he’s fucking with.”
As you pondered your next move, Jihyo leaned back and said, "You know, a well-placed hex might jog his memory."
"No. Not a hex. He get's one warning. His only warning."
Haechan knew you were after him.
The past couple days consisted of him dodging your every attempt at waving him down. After classes dismissed, he was up and out the door in the blink of an eye, he never showed his face at the great hall, and when you caught sight of him during his quidditch practice, he disappeared while everyone else headed to the locker rooms.
Three days after the water incident, you catch him.
The professor asked him to stay back after class, supposedly to discuss his recent test scores. So, when the bell rang, you lingered outside the classroom door. A couple of minutes later, Haechan emerged, his blonde hair paired with a scowl etched onto his face. He made a beeline in the opposite direction, but you had other plans.
“Lee Donghyuck!” you shout, attracting stares from the other students milling about the corridor. You scurry over to him and tug his arm, his eyes shooting down to where you made contact “We need to talk.”
He glanced around, ensuring no one was watching, and cleared his throat. "To what do I owe the pleasure?"
The threats you had rehearsed - the biting warnings you promised Jihyo you'd give him...they all catch in the back of your throat when you look up and make eye contact. It was almost condescending the way he looked down at you, without even saying anything, he made you feel small.
"I—um, I want you to leave me and Jeno alone," you managed to say, attempting confidence but knowing there was little force behind the words.
He knew it too.
His eyebrows shoot up, “I’m sorry darling, I’m not quite sure what you mean.”
Oh, how good he was at feigning innocence.
Too bad you knew he was a big fat fucking liar, “The whole Aguamenti spell you did the other night in the great hall? Yeah, I know it was you.”
His jaw clenches and he reaches for his wand to twirl around his finger – something he did when he was nervous. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
“Bullshit Haechan. Me and my friends saw you do it.”
As more people stared at the confrontation in the middle of the hallway, you considered finding a more private place, but you knew he wouldn't follow.
“What do you want me to say? I’m telling you I didn’t do it.” his voice is a low growl, his demeanor darkening and body slightly leaning towards your own. You wouldn’t be surprised if the next words out of his mouth were, ‘now get lost you little freak’.
Deciding to stand your ground, you stared up at him defiantly. However, instead of backing down, he laughed straight in your face, deflating any hope of setting him straight.
“Good one, Hufflepuff.” With a roll of his eyes, he palms his wand in thought. How could a girl like you go for a guy like Jeno? Didn’t you know he was an asshole?
Speak of the devil, he thinks.
A heavy arm wrapped around your shoulders, accompanied by a sweet and cheery voice. "Y/N! Just the girl I needed to see." Jeno's crescent eyes and beaming smile were inches from yours.
Haechan rolls his eyes and crosses his arms over his chest. He needs to leave; He should leave, but his feet don’t move when he tries. It felt like he was under a spell.
Yeah, if jealousy was a fucking spell, the thought bitterly.
“I hope you don’t mind me talking to your girl.” Jeno acknowledges Haechan and playfully punches him in the shoulder. The older boy just sneers.
“Oh, I’m not his girl” you declared adamantly.
A derisive scoff rumbles in the depths of Haechan's throat, and a fit of coughing seizes him, forcing him to double over.
“Careful there buddy.” Jeno smirks, harshly slapping Haechan’s back as way to help him catch his breath.
When the older boy straightens up, a look of pure hatred crosses his eyes and you giggle, “I’m fine, buddy.”
Jeno looks from left to right confused at Haechan’s hostility, but shakes it off and turns to you instead, “I wanted to invite you to the Quidditch game tomorrow night.” A ‘no’ forms on your lips but Jeno is quick to shut it down, “Look… I’ll play better if you’re there. You can be my good luck charm!”
A fake gag sounds from the back of Haechans throat and you stare daggers into him until he throws two hands up and takes a step back.
You turned to Jeno with the intention of declining, citing the need for studying, but his trademark smile was plastered on his lips. Wasn't the point of this conversation with Haechan to be something with Jeno someday?
“I’ll go.” You smile, and Jeno's face lights up like a kid on Christmas.
One second, you were on the ground, and the next, you were in Jeno's strong arms, spinning around. "Yes! You won't regret this, Y/N! You can even wear my jersey if you want!"
He slows down and sets you back on your feet, your head slightly spinning, “Jeno… you do realize you’ll need your jersey on the field.”
“Oh right.” He scratches the back of his neck sheepishly. “Didn’t think of that.”
Haechan makes an unamused snort, and you notice his hands are balled into fists at his side.
How could Jeno do that right in front of his face?
“I guess it’s the thought that counts.” Haechan spits, and turns on his heel, robes flying behind him as he hurriedly walks away.
“Wait! We still have to talk!” you shout after him, but he doesn’t acknowledge it, just keeps walking until he rounds a corner and disappears.
Why did he have something against Jeno? He hated you anyways. Was his job to make you miserable your entire Hogwarts life? Why was he always in your business?
Jeno startles you out of your thoughts, “Come on, I’ll walk you to class.”
A smile formed on your lips, and you murmured an 'okay' as Jeno looped your arm in his. Unfortunately, Haechan was long gone, along with any hope of setting him straight.
Hopefully he got the message, you think.
It’s the last thought of him before Jeno is tugging on your arm and walking you to class, the smell of cinnamon on his robes and his jovial tone taking home in your head and root in your heart.
He can’t stomach the sight of her face, but that doesn’t stop him from fucking her.
Who was she? He didn’t know, and he didn’t care. She was wet enough and that was all that mattered. Thrusting into her sopping cunt was what she was here for, nothing more, nothing less.
His mind drifts while he pounds into her, the image of Jeno dragging you away, his arm slung over your shoulders driving Haechan to fuck harder. The girl hollers in pain but doesn’t tell him to stop, just grits her face and bears it, and he doesn’t check to see if she’s okay.
She said she wanted him to fuck her, so that’s what he was doing.
“Hy-hyuck.” She whimpers, fingers digging into his dark green sheets.
A harsh smack lands on her ass, “What, can’t take it Y/ -”
He stops himself before finishing your name. How stupid could he be. This wasn’t you; this could never be you.
Whoever the girl was, she doesn’t notice, too rung up on his cock pushing into her over and over again to understand that he didn’t give a single fuck about her.
Poor girl.
Her legs start to shake, an overwhelming orgasm washing over her right before Haechan pulls out and rolls off the bed, hastily putting on his pants. She’s left to catch her breath on his bed, peering at him from between parted fingers, “You didn’t finish.”
“Don’t need to.” He throws his sweater over his head and starts to fix his tie, “Here.” He picks her yellow robes off the floor and tosses them onto the bed next to her.
“Let me suck you off or something.”
His response is instantaneoous, “I’m good.”
Her voice is soft when she speaks up again, “It’s because of that girl isn’t it… the one in my house, Y/N?”
Was it obvious to everyone else but you? This random fucking girl knew, but you couldn’t catch on? Fucking ridiculous.
His eyes narrow down to slits, “I got to get to class. You better be gone when I get back.”
The door slams behind him, the echo being the only indication he was there in the first place.
Robes askew and papers flying out of your hands, you rush into potions class at the last possible second.
Jeno is already seated at your shared table, something that’s become normal these last few weeks. Out of the corner of your eye, you take note of Hyuck slumped over a piece of paper, furiously scribbling—probably homework.
Thankfully, the professor nods you off without issuing you a detention slip.
Slamming your books on the flat black table, you hop onto your stool.
“Thought you weren’t gonna show y/l/n” Jeno’s smile stretches from ear to ear, his fingers twirling a quill between them.
“I may not be a Ravenclaw, but I’d never miss a class.”
“Couldn’t bear to miss me?” His flirtatious comments always make your heart skip a beat. Your pulse becomes increasingly erratic, face flushed. A snort sounds from behind you, and when you swivel around, you see Haechan’s face adorned with a sneer. He doesn’t deserve a response from you, no matter how much you want to flip him off.
You turn back around, “I guess I couldn’t…” The blush on Jeno’s face is unmistakable and it warms your heart.
From the front of the room, the professor claps his hands, “Alright class, today we will be doing something I’m sure you’ve done before.”
“Please don’t say truth potion.” You mutter under your breath.
“Not quite, Ms. y/l/n. Today we’ll be brewing amortentia potions! All your ingredients should be in the back of the classroom, gather them and begin brewing! The instructions are on page 287 of your textbook! The first group to accurately brew their potion gets five points on the chapter quiz this week.”
The professor calling you out would be enough to send you into an embarrassed state of tucking your chin against your chest and keeping your head down for the rest of the class, but the mention of extra points on the quiz has you leaping up off the stool and waltzing to the back of the classroom.
Jeno doesn’t even have time to say anything. You’ve never done this potion before, but you know the ingredients by heart, just waiting for the day you get to brew it.
You make it to the ingredients table first, followed by Haechan, who’s furiously flipping through his textbook, trying to find the ingredient list. When he notices your empty hands, he narrows his eyes, “Don’t you need to know what to put in the potion?”
Grabbing various vials and jars of dried leaves, you snort, “Don’t need to. Jealous I know it by heart?”
His eyes slide to yours while he follows your lead and picks up a jar of blue rose petals, “Me? Jealous? Yeah right. That’ll be you when me and Chenle win the extra points.”
“Don’t count on it Hyuck.”
The nickname has him tensing, knuckles going white when he accidentally grips a vial of milky substance too hard. He puts it under his arm and reaches for another vial. Coincidentally, you were reaching for the same one, both of your hands brushing against each other's. Neither of you is hasty in withdrawing.
His Adam's apple bobs in his throat, nervousness flitting across his brow. Before you can make note, he clamps down, and his expression goes stoic again.
Heat pools in your stomach. A sickeningly sweet feeling that leaves you confused when Haechan plucks the vial away and whips around, his robes fluttering out behind his body.
Other students begin crowding the table, so you grab a different vial, the interaction leaving you all too confused.
When you get back to the table, Jeno has already begun heating the cauldron.
The ingredients spill from your hands.
“Have you ever done this before?” Jeno asks, “You didn’t even need the textbook.”
Your voice comes out mumbled, “No. I just know it by heart.”
His own textbook is splayed out in front of him, one finger rubbing down the page to read the ingredients list. Why don’t his hands make you feel like that? Sure, it makes you feel all cozy inside, but it isn’t… hot like that. There;s no heat when Jeno walks hand-in-hand with you in the hallway. Why?
“… petals.”
His voice peeks through your thoughts that were flitting around your skull at a million miles an hour.
“Huh?”
“Why did you grab blue rose petals? It doesn’t say we need them in the book.” He teeters on the edge of his seat as if he wanted to take them back to the ingredients table at the back of the room.
A smirk plays on the edge of your lips, “Haechan was copying what I was grabbing, so to trip him up, I grabbed those. Hopefully, he doesn’t pay close attention to the textbook like you…”
Jeno laughs, “Never would have struck you as the type Y/N.”
“What, too much of a Slytherin thing?” You bite back.
“No…No, I like it. It makes you… I don’t know… hot?”
Your eyes go wide, a laugh sticking in your throat. You cough it up and turn to the spread of ingredients in front of you, “Let's, uh… let’s start so we can get those extra credit points.”
Jeno turns around and so do you.
What you don’t notice is Haechan, who had become immensely interested in your conversation after hearing the word Slytherin leave your lips. The jealousy flickering through his nerves is hotter than the boiling substance in front of him. Oh, how he wishes this was Defense Against the Dark Arts.
He’d love to put Jeno flat on his ass.
You and Jeno effortlessly master the brewing of amortentia in just twelve minutes, a symphony of perfectly blended scents swirling in your cauldron.
Chenle and Haechan shoot you annoyed glances as their potion turns into a goopy, blue disaster, nowhere close to the enchanting pink hue of yours.
The professor strides over, congratulating the two of you with a smile. He hands each of you golden slips of paper, designating you as the undisputed masters of amortentia potion-making.
Haechan stands with arms crossed, bitterness etched across his face as he joins the students gathered around your table. His jaw clenches when he witnesses Jeno pulling you into a snug side hug.
“Alright! As the first pair to get the potion right, you get the pleasure of telling us what you smell.
Fuck.
His jaw unclenches and instead is replaced by a shit-eating grin.
“W-What?”
Other students nervously chuckle, eager to see if Jeno, the star of Gryffindors quidditch team, would possibly smell their scent.
“I’ll go first y/n. Don’t sweat it.”
Carefully, Jeno leans over the cauldron and lets the steam waft up into his face. He takes a sniff. Another one. Another one. And finally a deep inhale.
“It’s smells like cherries… um, vanilla, I think… and, sweets? Like baked sweets?”
The professor applauds, “Good! Sounds like someone's after a Hufflepuff!”
All eyes turn to you. It's true, the Hufflepuff dormitory is adjacent to the kitchens, but why must everyone assume? Why must it be you?
The professor continues, “You next Y/N!”
Haechans doe eyes follow your figure closely, drinking in the way you lean over the cauldon, the top button on your blouse having come undone, breasts peaking through the top. He feels like a pervert, but he can’t help the stiffness rising in his slacks.
He should’ve had that girl suck him off.
You sniff one, twice, and a third time. Haechan watches as the blood drains from your face.
Why couldn’t it be cinnamon and firewood? Why not something to complement Jeno? It had to be that.
“I smell apples… and, and, um, caramel, and qu-quidditch gear.”
You don’t even have time to assess Jeno or Haechans faces. Jeno knew it was Haechan’s scent. Haechan knew it was his scent. Everyone knew. How could they not? Slytherins best asshole was known for smelling like caramel apples.
Fuck.
Your eyes are downcast, contemplating whether or not to do that chin tuck.
“Alright! Who’s next?”
“It’s not like it’s our house that’s playing.”
Slumped on the common room couch and stuffing your face with leftover popcorn (thanks Jihyo), your argument doesn’t come across as very convincing – to yourself, or Mina, who stands in front of you with her hands on her hips. “And anyways,” you raise a skeptical eyebrow, “Don’t you have to study or something. You’re not one for quidditch games.”
She reaches for you, snatching the snack bowl out of your hand and plopping it down on the coffee table. “I’m two weeks ahead in every single class. I can afford to skip a day of studying.”
For a moment, you shoot her a glare, sensing there's more to it. “Jihyo put you up to this, didn’t she?”
“Why do you say that.”
“Because I know her.”
“Okay, yes.” She sits down next to you, grabbing your hands. “But come on! Jeno invited you to watch the game and then go to the afterparty. You know how hard it is to get invited to those parties!” She drags out the last syllable, pretending to beg, “And Jihyo said she’d kill me if you bailed.”
You sigh. Jeno did invite you, and he had that killer smile on his lips when he did it. The reminder sends butterflies in your stomach fluttering about. The only reason you were planning to skip out was because you were nervous. And what happened in class yesterday. But that didn’t matter! Gryffindors seeker asking you to come watch him play, and then walking you to class? That made you more than friends, right? You didn’t know how to navigate that without being awkward… and you’d hate to disappoint him.
“Fine, I’ll go.”
Mina squeals next to you and pulls you into a hug. “You won’t regret this! But hurry up, I wanna see if I can spot Renjun before the game.” She smiles to herself, a light blush dusting her cheeks that she tries to conceal.
“Renjun… Isn’t that the boy you’re tutoring in potions?”
She hums in response, a dreamy expression so evident on her face you could almost make out hearts in her eyes. It's like a real-life cartoon.
“You have a crush on him!” you tease, giggling when she holds her arms out defensively and tries to deny it. “That’s why you’re going to the game today! Not because you don’t need to study, but because you wanna see Renjunnnnn.” You draw out his name like you used to do when you were first years.
“Don’t tell Jihyo.” She groans. “She’ll give me hell for it, and I want this to progress naturally on its own.”
“I won’t, I’m just shocked our Mina has a crush!”
You feel happy for your friend. Happy that she’s found somebody who could actually drag her away from being holed up on a Saturday afternoon – it's real progress.
“Enough about me! Go get ready!”
She throws a pillow at you when you leap off the couch, and it hits you square in the chest, both of you thrown into another fit of giggles.
The stands were so jam packed with students, you thought there was absolutely no way you were going to grab a seat.
That was until you spotted Jihyos yellow Hufflepuff cap sticking out in a sea of Gryffindor gear. It was against house rules to wear anything outside of your house colors, so while you wanted to wear red to support Jeno, the best you could do was the red handheld flags they were passing out at the gate to the field.
A first year Slytherin tried to hand you a green flag, but you upturn your nose and brush him aside. You didn’t hate all Slytherins, but you’d be damned if Haechan caught sight of you supporting his team, especially since it was him pitted against Jeno. It saddened you that he was a seeker like the boy you were there to support; he didn’t deserve the position.
Mina grabs your hand and drags you into the thick of the crowd where elbows jostled you every few seconds and your cheeks were being whipped with waving flags. You duck your head down and try not to trip, a sigh of relief rushing past your lips when you make it to where Jihyo is sitting front row, batting away a couple who were trying to sit in the seats she was keeping for the two of you.
“See!” She yells, gesturing wildly to the two of you walking up, “My friends are here, and these seats are now occupied!” She grabs your wrists and tugs you to sit down.
The couple rolls their eyes and move on to find another seat.
“Bitches.” Jihyo curses under her breath.
“Thanks for saving the seat.” You breathlessly laugh, adjusting your jacket so that you were bundled up. Hogwart winters weren’t for the faint of heart.
Jihyo smirks, “Had to fight off about half the Gryffindor population for this good of a view, but it was worth it.”
On the other side of Jihyo, Mina laughed and clapped her hands at the commotion on the field, right before every other student erupted in cheers, hoots, and hollers.
From your midfield position, you saw the Slytherin team filtering out on the green, brooms in hand.
“WELCOME ALL FACULTY AND STUDENTS TO THE FIRST HOME GAME OF THE SEASON!! PLEASE WELCOME OUR SLYTHERIN TEAM!” The announcer's voice boomed, rattling through the entire stadium.
As much as you resisted cheering, Mina was there to support Renjun, so you gave a few half-hearted claps on her behalf, earning dirty looks from the surrounding Gryffindors. You were in the wrong section if you wanted to support the snakes.
You weren’t looking for him, but Haechan’s blonde hair immediately grabs your attention. He’s smiling, all sharp and smug, and you can make out green face paint dotting the side of his neck. It irked you that he was soaking in the cheering – you bet he got off to on the attention. What? With him being the infamous Slytherin seeker? It went straight to his head, and you knew it.
The team hopped on their brooms and flew around the students, tossing Slytherin gear into the stands as they weaved in and out of the sections. When Haechan passed, he blew you a kiss and winked, infuriating you to the point your face flushed hot.
“Ignore him.” Jihyo rolls her eyes and gives your hand a squeeze, “He’s trying to get you mad. Jeno will put him in his place.”
The thought of Jeno putting him in his place warms your heart. Oh, how good that’ll feel.
Once the Slytherins stopped showing off, the crowd went relatively quiet, waiting for the real star of the show to come out. A thrumming chant started somewhere opposite your section, and soon enough, the entire student body was collectively roaring for Gryffindor.
“WE WANT BETTER, WE WANT MORE, SHOW US GRYFFINDOR!!”
A rumble goes through the crowd right before cold air whips your face and a sea of red jerseys flies over your head. It makes you laugh giddily, and your eyes desperately search for number seven – Jeno.
It takes a second, but soon enough your eyes are locked on his lean figure which presses forward on the thin broom stick. He looked good.
Jihyo goes fucking wild beside you, “There’s your man!” she screeches, and you let out a belly laugh. You both watch as he makes his rounds around the towers filled with cheering students – each and every one until he gets to yours.
“You look beautiful” he shouts, and a dozen girls around you squeal in adoration. He was talking to you though, and you knew it. His eyes sparkle when he gives you a wink. “Wish me luck.” he mouths.
“Omg how cute are you two!?” Jihyo swoons.
You pressed a kiss to your palm and then blew it to him – a signal of your affection. With a wide eye-smile, he grabbed it out of the air and pressed it to his lips.
It was then and there that you decided you were going to kiss him after the match. All too quickly, he flew away, and you watched as he went.
Not two seconds later, a new Gryffindor player was in front of you, balancing on the tail end of his stick. Johnny, you remembered his name.
His jersey was tucked between his teeth, his abs on full display, which sent the hoards of girls around you into a screaming fit. You caught a quick glimpse before he spat the hem out of his mouth.
“Y/N, you want us to win?” He asks, his voice a deep timbre.
You were shocked that he was talking to you – let alone that he knew your name.
Gingerly, you nod your head.
“I bet. You coming to the party after?”
This interaction was so bizarre, and all Jihyo and Mina did to help was stare at the six-foot, built, fine specimen lingering only three feet in front of you.
“Jeno invited me.” For some reason, a blush settles on your face, and you fight the urge to cover it.
“Bet you’re gonna have a fun time with him after.” A dazzling smirk plastered itself on Johnny’s face. “You should ask him if he’ll let you ride his broomstick. I heard he’s a good teacher. It should be fun.” He flew around so quickly it left you blinking in his wake. Over his shoulder, you heard him call out, “See you after, prize girl.”
The entire twenty-second conversation left you reeling, and you tucked a mental note away to ask Jeno about it later.
From across the field, a certain Slytherin seeker was seething. Both his hands grabbed the broom so tightly his knuckles turned white. If he applied any more pressure, it would have broken.
The fuck was Johnny talking to you about? Did it have to do with Jeno? What did you see in him anyways? What did Jeno have that he didn’t? Did he have to prove himself? Yes, he thinks. That’s what he’ll do. He’ll win this match to prove to you that he’s better than Jeno. Maybe then you’ll truly see him – and give him a chance.
Game on.
Two minutes were left in the last quarter, and it was neck and neck.
Green and red jerseys fly around each other.
The stadium echoed with the thunderous cheers as the Quaffle exchanged hands between the opposing teams. The bludgers were like rogue comets, threatening to disrupt the fluid dance of the players. Jeno and Haechan had their eyes fixed on the glittering snitch.
A collective gasp filled the arena as Haechan executed a daring spiral dive, narrowly avoiding a bludger. Simultaneously, Jeno executed a swift roll, evading a clever attempt by the opposing team to intercept him.
The golden snitch continued to flit teasingly ahead, leading the seekers on a merry chase.
You grip onto Jihyo and Mina as the game comes to a crescendo.
It happens so quick you almost miss it, but in three seconds everything changes.
Three.
Jeno becomes unbalanced, teetering sideways on his broom that keeps flying straight. His eyes are locked on yours when a wave of pure panic engulfs his sweaty features.
Haechan flies past him, one hand outstretched towards the golden snitch that loomed just mere inches from his fingertips.
Two.
He flips over the side of his broom, hands reaching out to try and catch himself. One by one his fingers tap the stick, not able to gain any purchase, and then he’s falling.
The other seeker presses ahead, dodging his teammates who don’t have time to get out of his way with how fast he’s flying.
One.
Jeno’s body slams into the grass field beneath the players, his broomstick landing next to his broken figure. He doesn’t get up, doesn’t scream in pain, doesn’t move.
Haechan's hand closed around the golden snitch, a victorious shout echoing from him and his teammates. He turned, searching for you in the crowd, but your gaze was fixed on Jeno.
Zero.
Shouts and cries erupt from the crowd, half in victory and half in shock. Someone screams Jeno’s name and you’re not sure if it’s your own shout, or if that person was just really close by.
With wide eyes, you watch as a bunch of medical staff rush towards him on the field and surround his body. Your body becomes ice cold and you can feel your heartbeat in your throat.
Please let him be okay; he has to be okay.
The Slytherin team flies around the field, visiting their supporters in the stands while everyone else’s eyes are on Jeno.
Jihyo grabs your shoulders and gasps when a white medical cot is lifted onto the shoulders of a few Gryffindor players.
“He’s okay. He’s okay.” Mina repeats, taking hold of your hand between hers and you almost sob in relief when you see him wiggling around in the cot, moans of pain falling from his lips too low for your ears to pick up.
Haechan watches from a distance, eyes wide in shock when he takes notice of Jeno’s condition and when he looks up, he sees your dormmates consoling you. He wanted to fly over to you and ask if you’re okay, but he knew you wouldn’t want to hear it, not when Jeno was hurt.
Once Jeno and the medical staff made it off the field, the stands began to clear out, but you feel like you can’t move.
“Come on.” Jihyo murmurs, pulling you up and wrapping an arm around you. It was silly that they had to take care of you like this when you weren’t even the one who was hurt.
When you made it to the bottom of the stand, you huddle together in a group.
Jihyo, with her arm still wrapped around you, gave you a side hug. “I’m sure he’s fine.” Mina nodded in agreement, but you started biting your nails – not that there was much to bite, lord knows they were almost stubs as it was.
Another person slides into your tight group, and you don’t notice until you hear his voice, “The scorekeepers say there was no evidence of foul play.”
When you looked up, you were surprised to see who you thought was Renjun. When he noticed your gaze, he gave a soft smile.
“That’s bullshit,” Jihyo declares, “We all know who did it, and he’s on your fucking team.”
Renjun just shrugs and slides an arm around Mina, and despite the timing and circumstance, you raise an eyebrow at her. She waves you off and slides her attention to Renjun, “Everyone knows it was Haechan.”
“Well, the scorekeepers say otherwise.”
You felt like screaming and crying and running away all at once, but you just stood there, biting your nails.
“I know I probably shouldn’t be asking right now,” Renjun's eyes flickered to you before looking away quickly, “But, I wanted to invite you guys to the after-party. I don’t need an answer, just show up if you want to, and I’ll have Chenle watching for you guys at the door. It starts in half an hour.” He started to pull away from the group but turned back at the last second. “By the way, Y/N, I’m sorry about Jeno. Just because I’m on the opposite team doesn’t mean I don’t feel bad.”
A hum falls from your lips and then he’s off.
“Well, if I need anything right now, it’s a fucking drink,” Jihyo joked, but one look at you, and her laughter died.
Mina is more concerned with you, “We won’t go if you need us.”
“No,” you blurted, dropping your hands from your face. “I –” A particularly loud shout jarred your attention away, and when you looked around to find the culprit, you saw the entire Slytherin team gathering to your right. Haechan stood in the center only long enough for you to make out it was him, then he was being hoisted onto his teammates' shoulders. His eyes met yours, and he smirked, lifting a hand to wave at you. It took everything in you to not storm over there and punch the absolute shit out of him. He wished he was your fucking priority, but that wasn’t the case.
“You sure?” Mina asks, snapping you out of your murderous thoughts.
“I gotta go check on Jeno.” You give a small smile, “Save me a drink?”
Jihyo and Mina both nodded, and before you walked off, you threw a middle finger at Haechan, who caught sight and clasped his chest like he was dying.
It pissed you off, but you had bigger priorities right now.
Haechan would have his turn.
As the cheering fades, the screams take over.
Deep, guttural screams of someone in agonizing pain echo through the empty castle halls leading right to the medical wing. They come in bursts; long strings of curses, grunts, and broken yells, and it makes you inwardly cringe because you knew who they belonged too.
“Jeno…” you whisper, after hearing a particularly jarring shriek.
After rounding the corner, the tall double oak doors loom in front of you, inviting you to join Jeno in his agony, or at least be there to comfort him. Pushing them open, you reveal a large, brightly lit room sectioned off by blue plastic curtains and medical cots. On the left side of the room, you see a nurse tending to who must be Jeno, but you can’t see his face.
You can hear him though.
His voice is amplified ten-fold now that you were in the same room, and instinctively you raise your hands to plug your ears but shake it off. Tentatively you walk over.
“Goddamn Slytherin.” You hear him groan, legs twisting in discomfort when the nurse applies pressure to his arm. It’s evident he’s never been in this much pain before.
“Jeno?” You whisper, startling the nurse who accidentally puts too much pressure on his arm, causing him to jerk away from her, a yelp passing his thin lined lips.
Her hands pepper over his body in apology, not turning her head to look at you, “You shouldn’t be in here.”
“I know.” You whisper, and she doesn’t press any further on why you’re there or ask you to leave, so you stay.
Jeno doesn’t even seem to notice you, but that doesn’t matter. You shift around the bed slightly and catch sight of his face. Both his eyes are shut, one ringed in purple and his bottom lip split in two separate places. His nose seemed to get busted in the fall as it was surrounded by dark red, almost black, dried blood. A few droplets splattered on his shirt, accompanying the grass and dirt he had slammed into after falling thirty feet from the sky,
As bad as it may sound, you’re glad Jeno only broke his arm. A fall from that height could have meant paralysis or worse, death. He truly got lucky.
You stand quietly, watching as she shifts Jeno’s arm into a sling, securing it with a couple items you don’t know the name for and then popping a few muggle meds in his mouth. Lifting a glass of water to his lips, he groans, knocking back the pills.
It never sat right with you how the nurses used muggle methods of healing when there were more than a fair share of spells that could work much quicker. It was as if they wanted you to stew in your own misery.
Wasn’t the point of magic to make things easier?
Your thoughts are cut off by the nurse brushing past you, arms full of medical supplies. “Visiting hours are over in twenty minutes. Make it quick.” She warns, before walking away.
“Why are you here.” Jeno groans when she leaves the room, eyes still sticking shut.
“I –”A dull ache lands on your heart and the words catch in the back of your throat, a sudden cough clearing them away.
His lip curls into a sneer, “Spit it out y/l/n,”
The aggression radiating off of him makes you stumble back but you don’t let it scare you. You knew Jeno and he wasn’t scary… or so you thought.
“I just wanted to make sure you were okay.” You speak quietly, like any word above a murmur would startle him and hurt him worse.
“Obviously, I’m not fucking okay.” His voice is nasally, mocking you, “But you don’t care, do you? Bet you’re just here to make sure I don’t snitch on your little boyfriend.”
“He’s not my boyfriend.” Your eyes narrow down to slits. It angered you that Jeno thought you would give any time of day to the little prick who kept messing with you.
“You should tell him that.”
His eyes snap open and home in on you, glaring from his spot on the bed. Uncomfortable in his position, he squirms a bit, trying to right himself, but he grunts and falls back down, the pain too much for him.
‘You should tell him that.’
The words bounce around the inside of your skull. Did Haechan think you were together? Think he had some kind of weird ass claim over you?
"Jeno –”
“You know I can’t even play quidditch now that my arm is broken. My fucking arm Y/N.” Tears form in the corner of his eyes, whether from the pain or the prospect that he was out for the season, you weren’t sure, “He knocked me off my broom. That’s like… that’s like attempted murder!” he splutters, a crazed expression overtaking his face.
As much as you disliked the guy, there was no way he was capable of murder. No, this was due to his unrelenting jealousy, and someone needed to set him straight.
“Oh, come on, it’s not attempted –”
Jeno’s free hand is shoved in your face, one finger pointing at you patronizingly, “Yes, it is. You and I both know he’s a crazy son of a bitch, and he obviously has something for you so stay the fuck away from me.”
“Really, can we just talk?”
He shakes his head, “No. Get the fuck away from me and keep your little boyfriend in check.”
“For the last time, he’s not –”
“I don’t care what he is! The both of you need to leave me the fuck alone.”
Your heart breaks.
It wasn’t because you liked him. No, that wasn’t it. You just thought this could have been the start of something new since your love life had been wrecked for years thanks to the one and only Lee Donghyuck.
You can’t believe he had the audacity to wreck it again.
“I’m sorry.” Your voice comes out in a whisper, way too low for him to hear, but he waves you off anyway, “I’ll go.”
He doesn’t say anything; doesn’t even watch as you turn your back and walk away, past the blue plastic curtains and out the heavy double doors. The more steps you take, the heavier your heart feels in your chest. Tears burn in your eyes and anger clouds your head with each passing second like poison.
Haechan wasn’t getting away with this, you were going to make sure.
You see fucking red.
Storming through the halls of Hogwarts was a rare occurrence for you, but today was different. People gasped as you briskly brushed past them, your head so hot it felt like smoke might billow from your ears. Annoyed shouts of 'hey' or 'watch it' barely registered as you descended the stairs leading to the ominous 'Slytherin Dungeon.' The air grew colder with each step, mirroring the iciness in your gaze. Thoughts of pounding Haechan's face swirled in your mind, and you couldn't shake the fiery anger fueling your every move.
You knew if Jihyo was here she would make fun of your anger, claiming that you didn’t belong in Hufflepuff with your temper.
Too bad she wasn’t.
Maybe she could have calmed you down, slowed your racing heart and spoken some sense into your hard head, but alas, she wasn’t, and you were only growing more furious by the second.
Reaching the bottom of the staircase, you rounded a corner and collided with a Slytherin you recognized as Chenle, thanks to Renjun's heads up. His light green hair parted down the middle, coupled with the trademark Slytherin resting bitch face, transformed into a smirk upon seeing you.
“Y/N! Glad you could make it!” His voice is deeper than you would have thought, and he was much taller when you walked up to him.
"Yeah, yeah, let me in." Impatiently tapping your foot, you watched as he opened the door, revealing the booming bass of the music inside.
"Say hey to him for me." Chenle grinned, extending an arm to welcome you.
You pushed past him, retorting over your shoulder, "You can tell Renjun yourself." Confusion flashed over his face, but the door slammed shut before further words could be exchanged, sealing you inside.
The ambiance in Slytherin territory starkly contrasted with your dorm. Damp darkness replaced the natural sunlight, and the air carried the scent of spicy cologne rather than the comforting aroma of food.
Thank God I wasn’t placed in Slytherin, you think.
Music reverberates off the walls and lands loudly on your eardrums, a soft green glow emitting from the end of the hallway. Conversation and laughter can be heard just slightly above the music, and you follow it till you’re at the end of the corridor and in the den of the snakes.
Green.
There’s green everywhere.
But your dormmates were nowhere to be found. In fact, all you saw in every direction were green robes with the occasional pop of yellow and blue.
No Gryffindors, interesting.
A hand lands on your arm and you jump back at least ten feet.
"Woah, it's just me." Renjun's eyes crinkled with a smile as he extended a drink towards you. You accepted it with a silent 'thank you.'
"Your friends are in the bathroom, I think, but I can wait with you if you like." Renjun's politeness caught you off guard. This has got to be the nicest Slytherin boy you’ve ever met.
As you took a sip of the bitter liquid, you mused, "No need to wait with me... I came to see someone real quick, and then I'll be on my way."
"I know he deserves it, but go easy on him, okay?" Renjun's words hung in the air, causing you to stare at him with disbelief. Sensing your anger, he quickly stepped back, raising a hand. "You know what, forget I said anything."
Cocking your head, you smiled, "Know where I can find him?"
Renjun simply pointed behind you.
Turning around, you spotted the boy in question, lounging on a couch stripped of his robes. Clad in a white button-up shirt and black slacks, Haechan exuded an air of arrogant nonchalance. Two girls clung to either side of him, and a few friends surrounded him, exchanging laughs and banter.
"Thanks, Renjun." You mutter, not bothered to look behind you and see that he wasn’t standing there anymore.
You down the rest of your drink in one gulp and leave the plastic solo cup on a random side table as you stalk over to where the blonde headed boy was lounging. When you push past his friends, his eyes snap to you.
“Glad you could make it.” He beams, eyes washing over your body. You were in that damn skirt, and it drove him fucking wild.
Ignoring him, you placed your hands on your hips. "Get up."
He chuckled, patting his thigh. "Why don't you sit down and enjoy the party?" Laughter erupted from his friends, and the girls hanging off his arms glared at you.
“Get. Up.” You seethe.
“Feisty aren’t you.” He murmurs, shrugging off the girls at his side and standing up.
“Lead the way to your room.”
A few hoots and hollers followed you as he guided you away from the party and into the hallway. "Can't wait to get your hands on me?"
Ignoring him, you followed, your gaze trailing from the back of his neck to his shoulder blades visible through the sheer fabric of his shirt. The muscles rippled as he opened the heavy door of his bedroom, and you had to tear your eyes away before saying something stupid.
The room was as expected, draped in dark green bedding and scattered quidditch gear. The scent of him surrounded you, reminiscent of that damned amortentia brewing session.
While he walks further into the room, you slam the door shut and spin around, “Where the hell do you get off – ”
“Right there.”
“What?” You blink.
“I get off right there.” He jabs a thumb over his shoulder in the direction of his bed, “Almost every night, unless I have a match the next day. You know, gotta keep the tension building so I do my best…”
You groan, “You’re unbelievable.” He chuckles a bit and steps closer to you, igniting the nerves that were already high strung, on fire, but you push the thought away, “Why do you feel the need to fuck around with the guys I like.”
“I was trying to win the game. Trust me, you and your relationship was nowhere on my mind.” What a fucking lie, he thinks. “I’m flattered you were thinking about me though.”
“Are you always this full of yourself?” You bite.
He flashes a beaming smile, pearly white teeth on display and you wished you didn’t stare too long at his canines. He had such a pretty smile and you wished you didn’t have to notice it. “When you look like I do, it’s kind of hard not to be.”
“Slytherin suits you, huh?” you sneer.
“Exactly.” He reaches an arm overtop of you and semi cages you against the door and his body, “So now that’s cleared up, can I go back out there and celebrate my win?”
He was so close to you, his lips only inches from your own, and his cologne was wafting up in your face sending you into a daze. God he was so cute, no not cute – hot. He was hot. You wonder what it would feel like to stretch your neck and kiss him. Did he taste how he smelled?
The fucking drink.
Whatever Renjun had given you was reaching your bloodstream way faster than muggle alcohol. You make a mental note to rip his head off later, but for now you turn your attention back to Haechan’s insanely close face.
“You need to realize –”
He cuts you off again, “Look, I’m all for being in here with you, but if you insist on keeping that pretty mouth running, I suggest you put it to good use instead of chastising me.” His eyes flicker from your own to your lips, almost like he was thinking about kissing you just as much as you were thinking about kissing him.
Do it, just kiss me, you think, but different words are said, “You wish.”
“Yeah, I do.” He quips.
“Can’t you be serious for one fucking second you asshole.” A drawn-out groan escapes you as you press your hand against him, hoping to coax him into backing off. Regrettably, he remains a solid wall of muscle and strength, unmoved by your attempts.
“Sorry, it’s just hot when you insult me. Do it again” He wiggles his eyebrows at you and leans in, one hand reaching out to caress the underside of your jaw.
He doesn't know where the newfound confidence was coming from. You were supposed to hate him, yet he had you in his bedroom. The same bedroom where he thought about fucking you. Where he got off to the memories of that goddamn mirror. Where he fantasized about you slotting your thighs on either side of his head, and sitting down on his waiting lips.
You swat his hand away, “Do you have any idea how stupid you are?”
“Not as stupid as you would look with a cock in your mouth.”
Wishful thinking, he muses.
You roll your eyes at his remark, but nonetheless a heat surges between your legs. You would look stupid – but Haechan’s cock in your mouth sounds all too great. “Are you done?”
“Done with what?”
You roll your eyes. Again. “Being an idiot.”
“Would an idiot make you flush so easily like this?” He strokes a stray hair behind your ear, his fingertips burning against your skin, “See? I make you flustered. You want me. Badly.”
Again, wishful thinking.
“You think I want you badly?” You scoff, a hand coming in contact with his crotch, “You’re the one hard. Do you get off on hurting people?”
“Yes.” He stares into your eyes, a mischievous glint shining in them, “I do.”
“God you’re fucking pathetic.”
He groans and pushes his hips into your hand. “Say it again.”
A loud and drawn-out gasp leaves your lips, “No fucking way you’re getting off on this too.” His dick twitches in his pants at your accusation.
“You talk too much. Just suck my dick already.”
Third times a charm.
Seeing him like that, pliant underneath your hand… it makes your heartbeat erratic and your face flush. You could tell he wanted it, and he wanted it bad, so why didn’t you give in to it? Give in to him? The air around you shifts and whatever it was, it has you lowering yourself down onto the floor so that you were kneeling below him, hands clawing at his belt buckle.
His eyes widen when he realizes what you’re doing. “I was kidd –”
“Is this what you want?” you coo, “Want me on my knees like this?” You slip his belt through the loops slowly and muster up the most innocent smile you could.
“You should stop, I was kidding.” He grunts, forearms tightening when you get his belt off and start on his pants button.
“I think you should shut up.”
He complies and doesn’t say a word while you pull both his pants and boxers down till they pooled around his ankle and he kicked them off.
Lee Donghyuck had a right to be cocky.
His cock sprung up against his abdomen standing tall and hard, clear, sticky precum droplets collecting on his tip. He fidgets under your gaze, but you were in awe at how big he was.
“Are you just gonna look at it?” He whines, one of his hands wrapping around your head and fisting tightly in your hair, “At least kiss it or something.”
You watched him twitch slightly as the cold air met his length, and again when your hand wandered past his thigh to grip him in your palm, squeezing him tightly at the base. He shivers into your touch, “You have a pretty dick.”
“So, I’ve been told.” He all but moans and tries to bring your head forward.
His neediness draws you closer, and you take him in your mouth. He was heavy and sweet, so fucking right for you that you don’t think straight and take him all the way in till he hits the back of your throat.
“Fuck.” He groans, holding your head down till you were choking and batting his thighs.
When he lets up, you gasp for air though you don’t find yourself mad, instead, you feel the fire in your stomach growing hotter and the wetness in your panties pooling.
“Ke-Keep going.” He stutters, the intent was strong, but his words broke in the moment.
You turn you head and lick from the base of his cock to his tip, relishing the way he bucks his hips into your fist. A rosy blush covers his neck and cheeks when you look up at him. When you meet his doe eyes, they were hooded with lust. For a split second he watches you lick all over him, giving a few small kisses on his tip, before he rolls his head back and closes his eyes.
Messily, you spit on his tip, using your hands to spread it down his length and he groans into the stilled air. “You’re so fucking hot.”
“So, I’ve been told.” You mock his earlier words, and his hold on your hair tightens as a warning.
Rolling your eyes, you take him in your mouth again, leaving your hand to pump his base while you harshly suck at his hot skin. He tries to push into the back of your throat again but knowing that you couldn’t take him again without choking, you dig your nails into his thighs, leaving him to shamelessly whimper out.
“Your mouth feels so fucking good baby.” He grunts, losing himself in the way your warm mouth glides down his length, and the right amount of pressure you’re squeezing around his base. If he closed his eyes, he could almost pretend it was your cunt he was pounding into.
You hum around his cock at the praise and repeat your movements, slightly taken aback by his pet name. In the back corner of your mind, you hope it was just a slip of the tongue.
The alcohol had too much of a hold on you to think about anything else other taking his cock down your throat, and loving every second.
His chest begins to heave, and his legs start to shake bit as you draw him deeper down your throat, and when you look up, you notice his curious eyes watching you. He thinks about unbuttoning his shirt but pushes the thought aside when you erratically rub the underside of his length with your tongue.
“Bet you love the taste of my cock.” He whispers and you moan around a mouthful of him, the vibrations sending him into a euphoric head high.
He wasn’t wrong. You loved this, loved the feeling of having him slightly submissive under you with his dominant nature peeking through a bit.
It felt like a fucking dream.
“Can I cum down your throat?”
You’re shocked that he’s close already, but with the palpable tension beforehand acting like foreplay, you shouldn’t be. You try and nod to the best of your ability and you guess he gets the message because he’s fisting your hair again and drawing you close, a string of curses falling from his lips.
Uncontrollable gasps and grunts leave him as he fucks your throat, leaving you to helplessly take it – take all of him, and before you know it, hot white cum is shooting down your throat, his head thrown back as he snaps his hips against your face.
You felt like a rag doll in his grip but that didn’t matter right now, all that mattered was swallowing his arousal, a bit of it landing on your tongue and while you thought it was going to taste salty, you’re mildly surprised to find its sweet.
“My god, I can’t believe you actually did that.” He pants, moving to put his slacks back on while you stand up and wipe your mouth with the back of your hand, “I – Thank you.”
A darker blush flushes on his face and he turns to you now fully dressed. He wasn’t sure what to say now, and that was a first for him.
“Are you happy?” You spit, a bout of spite coming out of nowhere, “Did you get what you wanted? Will you leave me and Jeno alone now?”
He stumbles back like your words had a physical effect on him, “What are you talking about? You dragged me in here?”
Where did the sudden flip of emotion come from? One minute you had his cock in your mouth and the next you’re yelling at him again. The both of you can’t come up with an answer, but somewhere in your brain you knew it was your way of trying to convince yourself the rising feelings you were having towards him weren’t a thing; would never be a thing.
“Just leave me and Jeno alone now. Okay?”
You straighten your blouse and fix your hair before opening the door behind you and storming out. He tries to follow you, half stumbling through the hall till he was out in the party again where his friends clap him on the back, congratulating him on ‘hitting that yellow tail’, but he can’t find it in himself to smile and jeer back. All he does is watch you storm away, his friend Renjun reaching out for you. Your dormmates try and stop you but you blow past them and round the corner where the door to the stairs were.
Should he let you go?
Or should he follow?
"Fuck this."
TAGLIST. @txpxwxk @sunshinedhyuck @honeym4rk2 @saenora @peachjaem00 @grassbutneo @capri-cuntz @seajae @kenmathegreat @aliceinwhateverland @fraechan @monyuno @meowniee @ggukkyu @quarter-life-crisis2 @nominsgirl @dewydew @httpxelysian11 @rainyjeno
#nct dream smut#nct smut#haechan smut#haechan x reader#nct dream x reader#nct hogwarts au#nct hp au#lee haechan smut#lee haechan x reader#nct dream haechan smut#nct 127 smut#nct haechan smut#nct haechan x reader
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❝ DOUBLE PENETRATED ❞ - Choso Kamo, Suguru Geto
— YOUR OLD HIGH-SCHOOL CLASSMATES DO YOUR NIPPLE PIERCINGS.
₊˚༊*·˚ warnings. nsfw(18+), piercer! choso/suguru, threesome, throat-fucking, resolved sexual tension, choso has a tongue piercing, suguru lip piercing, oral sex, orgasm denial, spitting, face slapping, dp (v/anal), creampies, cum eating, taking polaroids while fucking, filth, MENTIONS OF PIERCING PROCEDURES!
₊˚༊*·˚ notes. I fear that I may have gone crazy with the fucking. choso turned out to be the one with the tongue piercing, but dw.. sug has a lip piercing. cause I wanted to focus on suguru more, after some of you loved my previous piece about him! this is a repost, I experienced a few formatting issues. ty for 900! <3 s/o to my dear rya for coming up with this amazing title 😭
4,562 words (15m read)
Finally, it had come after all; the day you were to get your nipples pierced. Standing in front of the studio, you take a deep breath— half of you wanting to back out, but the other just screaming 'fuck it.'
As soon as you enter, a chime goes off above your head, the man behind the counter hauling his eyelids up to see who it was.
He seems familiar, you thought. Long, raven colored hair; and those piercings... "..Suguru?"
His head cocks forward; like some meerkat, "Is that.. who I think it is?" Suguru hops off the stool, stepping away from the counter. Bringing you in for a big warm hug, he pulls away; taking a good look at you as he does. A silver glint catching your eye; it seems that he had gotten a lip piercing done, a metal ring hugging the flesh.
"Damn, you look good. I haven't seen you since what, high school grad'?" he warmly smiles, his forearm still resting on your back. Both you and Suguru had left high school on a good note; he had tend to hang out with the more, known people in school— although he was someone you could tolerate.
Flustered, you divert your gaze; Suguru walking back around before you could speak. "..Yeah, I never knew that you worked here," moving closer towards the countertop, you rested against your two hands, leaning slightly.
"Mhm, you probably remember Choso? He works here too. I mean, he owns this place." Suguru's eyes busy scanning the bookings, you blink frantically, trying to remember who 'Choso' was. Choso Kamo, perhaps? He adds on, "..You coming in for an appointment? For what?"
"..Choso? That's not really ringing a bell. And uh, I'm here to get my.. nips done..." your voice trails off slightly, embarrassed that your old high school classmate sees you after years; but here, in the middle of getting your tits pierced.
He smiles slightly, alarm bells ringing at those two exact words coming out of your mouth. "Ah.. Choso's gonna be heartbroken for sure if he finds out that you've completely forgotten him." He marks your name off the list of bookings, standing up straight. "Being that you were so quiet back in high school, I never expected you to get your tits done."
Warmth rushing through your body, you nervously let out a laugh, "..People change, I guess.." You purse your lips, mentally slapping yourself at how awkward the conversation has turned.
"Well said, how 'bout you come along with me. Choso's gonna be helping you out today." He steps out of the counter once again, gesturing you to follow behind him.
You both walk through some curtains leading to the back of the studio, Suguru bringing you into a room with dark interior; a leather piercing bed taking up space in the middle of the room.
Another man was sitting on a wheeled stool beside a counter, his back turned to you. Seems like he's busy sterilising some equipment..
"Cho," Suguru calls out, the man glances behind his shoulder, fully spinning the stool around in surprise. "Look who I've got with me!"
Choso's eyes widen, mouth gaped after having not see you for a few years. He looks, so different. Too different. His hair a bit longer, but he decided to keep it down. It was no longer tied up in two pigtails like back in high school; both him and Suguru have turned into.. Good looking men; real men..
"..Choso?" you quietly call out , a type of tension lingering throughout the air— a room with two guys and one girl about to get her tits pierced by her old high school classmates, ones that she last expected to see.
Suguru slouches onto the sofa in the corner, hands holding a polaroid camera. "Our old classmate here has come today to get her tits done," He sticks one eye into the viewfinder, snapping a quick photo of his surroundings. "Also- If you don't mind, we tend to take polaroids of our customers after the finished piercing. Your face won't be caught in it, don't worry."
"Uh yeah, that's fine." You flashed a smile, before placing your coat and bag on the armrest beside Suguru, behind you could hear Choso finally speaking.
"..If you wanna just take a seat right here, and make yourself comfortable." He pats on the leather bed beside him, Choso stealing a quick stare down your body, noticing what has changed about you over these past few years. Pretty face like always, a fatter ass.. and..
"..Kay," hestitant, you scoot yourself onto the bed, leaning your head against the soft cushion. You breathe deeply, nervous about the fact that they were literally about to see your tits. But hey, it's their job, right? ..Why is Suguru still here though?
Choso takes note of your anxious demeanor, adjusting the lamp above you. He goes and slips on a pair of black latex gloves, before spinning back around; stumbling with his choice of words. You dart your eyes to the Choso making an array of strange noises, until he finally knows what to say.
"I'm gonna need you to uh, take that off." He points a finger at your shirt, his hand withdrawing immediately. You quickly understood what he meant, sitting yourself up on the bed.
"Right, yeah.." Your hands like frost from feeling timid, they graze against your skin as you took off your shirt; you had chosen not to wear a bra today, as it felt like it made sense. Your nipples instantly go erect from the cold touch of your fingers.
...And a nice pair of tits. That's the last thing Choso was meant to say. He swallows some spit, offering to take your shirt to keep it safely to the side, Suguru looking at you with the corner of his eye, grinning.
You lay back on the bed, the cold leather causing you to shiver all over again. Choso wheels the stool closer to you, his hand holding an antibacterial wipe. "..Alright, I think we'll go with a straight barbell. It's one of the safest options." Nodding in response, he goes on with the procedure.
He gives the surface of your tits a quick wipe, making them jiggle slightly— Choso tries his best to not let his mind trail off somewhere else. He's pierced multiple before but, something about you just had him whipped.. Especially after not seeing you for ages.
He looks at you for a moment before leaning in, trying not to smile at you all nervous underneath him; feeling your body tense under his touch as he firmly grabs your tits to leave markings with the pen.
"..Just relax yourself for me," he says, lowly, your feet stopping their kicking down the end of the bed. You study his face closely as he focuses on leaving perfect marks over your nipples to indicate where the piercing will go, his hot breath slightly fanning over your skin. You could hear Suguru in the background humming to the music on the radio, tapping away on his phone, and the same polaroid resting on his lap.
Choso pulls away allowing you to take a look at where he had drawn the markings. It took him a lot of strength to keep himself from latching his mouth onto your breasts then and there. "Approved?" He clicks the cap of the marker back on, tossing it to the side.
"..Approved," You give him a small, affirming smile as he gets the other tools ready. A clamp in his one hand, and a needle in the other, he holds them out.
"It's gonna hurt like a bitch for a few seconds, but it will be over before you know it." Reassuring you, you could only nod once more; licking your dried lips as you had ran out of words to say.
You try not to shut your eyes as you feel the cold clamp clutch onto your nipple, thinking that it would be bad etiquette if you did. Instead, you turn your head to the side, seeing Suguru still relaxed on the couch. He grins, but before you know it; the stinging of the needle hits you, a mewl coming out of your mouth.
"Good girl, just breathe," he coos, "I'm almost done with the other one." You bite down on your lip, certain that you had left a bruise behind. What felt like more than minutes, the stinging comes to a halt; numbing taking its place. You could feel Choso lay his gloved hands on your bare stomach, letting you know he had finished. "All done, you took that like a champ."
Turning your head back to it's original position, your eyes travel down to your chest, seeing the metal barbels inserted into both nipples. You smile, Suguru coming close to the bed with the polaroid.
"Oh, they look good." Suguru puts out, "I'm jealous of whoever gets to see these." His lips curl into a smirk as his eye goes near the viewfinder. You disregard his comment, busy looking at your freshly pierced tits.
"You happy with them?" Choso asks, wiping away at some equipment.
"I love them, thanks, Choso." You say, itching to poke at them but both men attempt to grab your wrist, causing you to look up; your eyes alternating between the two.
"Don't be touching them all the time," Suguru says sternly, meanwhile Choso on the other hand says something completely different.
"If.. you know, someone wants to, latch onto them- don't allow it," Choso continues, his blood curdling at the thought of someone else taking his own work for their pleasure. "..It needs to fully heal."
Cautiously, you nod, retracting your hand to lay it down on your side. Suguru switches up the topic, excited with the camera in his hand. "Ready to take a few pics? I'd say smile, but you aren't in them anyway."
"Of course," you sit up on the bed, perking your tits out as Suguru focused the lens on them. Choso bunches your hair up in his fist, bringing the strands behind your back so that the camera could get a clearer view of your chest. His grip delicate, but your stomach churns at how his long, slender fingers scratch off your nape.
You blink at the bright flash going off, the film peeking out of the slit at the top. Suguru takes it, flopping it around in the air for the picture to come through. He sets it down on the table nearby, with an intention to take more.
"Could you move yourself a little bit to the left?" Suguru's eye still stuck in the viewfinder, he orders you around with a gesture; his only sight of you being through the lens.
"..Like this?" you respond, after scooting slightly to the side; your hair still in Choso's grip, which accidentally feels like a harsh tug as soon as you move away— immediately, he lets go.
Choso mutters quietly under his breath, "Ah..- sorry."
Suguru brings the camera away from his face, his free hand suddenly grabbing onto the side of your waist; positioning you like a delicate doll. Your breath hitches, taken aback by his sudden movements.
He puts the viewfinder up to his eye again, snapping another valuable photo of you. The film comes out of the slit again, Suguru carrying out the same routine he had done with the previous picture.
Exhausted, you lay back down on the bed; though Suguru sees this as a perfect opportunity for another pic. "Hmm... Just- stay like that, yeah?" He says, the bright flash filling your vision with white.
You giggle, feeling as if you were a model taking boudoir, fully naked. You arch your back against the leather playfully, your chest protruding and extremely close to the lens, Suguru smiling and continuing to take more photos.
Choso remains silent as he slips the gloves off, a painful strain forming against his pants as he watched you pose so lewdly in front of him, you weren't the same girl as the one he knew back in high school.
Multiple photos scatter the table; Suguru having to go and fetch more film from the drawers.
Both of you had moved to the sofa in the corner, multiple pictures of you kneeling, biting your finger with your tits perked out to the camera; all pieces of film had covered parts of the floor. You were having a bit too much fun.
Choso, his tongue pokes the inside of his cheek. Refusing to be provoked, he stands up from the stool; making his way over to the sofa to take a seat beside you.
Suguru praises you, picking up a few of the photos that had finished processing. He remains anchored between your legs, towering over your body that was kneeled on the sofa. "They came out great, don't you think?" He holds one closely for you to see, your head tilting to take a peek.
"That one looks good," you point, Suguru approvingly nodding in response; although Choso makes a sudden comment, one that caught you by surprise.
Toying with the ends of your hair, Choso twirls them around his finger. The slight touch from his fingertips sending chills down your spine. "..So, who's gonna be lucky enough to see them?" he says, calmly; his voice not showing one bit of repentance. He was certain with his choice of words.
Confused, you turn to him, suppressing a titter. "..No one, I just really wanted this for myself.." you say, Choso nodding slowly; feeling slight relief at your answer.
“Probably can’t wait to show them off, huh?” Choso’s words sharp, digging into you like daggers; “..Just walking around, tits poking through your shirt, so everyone could see..”
All of a sudden, he yanks your hair back, and you let out a wail; your eyes meeting with Suguru’s above you. Seeing him grinning at you all helpless from the top, his hand reaches down to rest on your face; thumb caressing your cheekbone.
Looking at Choso— your eye moving to the side, his expression blank; but clearly, he was enjoying every bit of this.
“..I’d say we put her in her place,” Suguru says, his voice growing low; observing how easily you succumb to their touch. You could feel Choso’s grip let loose in your hair, and instead, his lips find their way to your neck; a hum crawling from his throat.
You whimper, Choso leaving a trail of wet kisses down the soft skin of your neck, softly gasping as he managed to move you around, laying you down against the edge of the sofa.
“W-wait, Choso..” you whispered, his lips moving from your chest down to your stomach, being careful to not meddle with your freshly done nipples, his hands roaming all over the gummy flesh on your waist.
You watch as he goes down on you, until a sudden grab at your chin lures you away, “Up here baby,” he purrs, your eyes misty— Suguru’s lips lock onto yours, tongues intertwining with each other as he groans into the kiss. You manage to swipe at his metal lip ring in the midst of it; the kiss so filthy and disgusting, nothing but neediness controlling it.
Choso on the other end pulling at your pants, allowing you to shimmy them off; leaving you in your underwear. Cock harder than ever, he licks against the material, the metal orb on his tongue poking through— he had a tongue piercing? He just couldn't wait to have you. A wet stain remains on the cotton, as he nibbles at the fabric before tearing it apart fully.
You let out a breathy moan into the kiss with Suguru, the ball on Choso’s tongue prodding at your clit, he alternates between licking and sucking. Occasionally, he plants kisses on the inside of your thighs; excessively groaning as he takes in all of you.
His large hands wrap around the plump of your legs, bringing you closer to his face; his grunts tickling you each time he slurped, eating you out as if you were his last meal.
Everything going on felt sinful; two men playing with you at the same time, but oh—did you want more.
Suguru pulls away, the camera placed on the ground; a long string of saliva connecting you two. Hands trembling as he reaches down for the buckle on his belt, undoing it swiftly— not fully pulling his pants down but instead grabbing for his cock; letting it hang freely from his boxers.
Your eyes frantically blinking at the size, so girthy, and long; you grab onto and tug at Choso’s strands as you felt him fuck into you with the tip of his tongue, your mouth gaping— Suguru seeing this as an advantage to stuff your mouth full of his cock.
A guttural sound crawling out of his throat, the warmth that your mouth enclosed over his cock doing his head in. His hips move back and forth, head falling back as he dug his fingers into your scalp, bobbing your head up and down his length. “Fuck.. just like that,” he groans, looking down at you taking him whole. “Good girl, how about we train this throat of yours..”
Suguru pushes into your throat as deep as he can go, your eyes brimming with tears; the tip of your nose tickled by his pubes— “Just breathe baby, breathe..” He says so easily with a devilish grin, enjoying the pure panic on your face.
He stills in your throat for a few seconds before completely pulling your mouth off his cock— spit running down your chin, his entire length glistening with it.
You let out a cry, your head crashing back into the sofa as you feel Choso stick two digits into you, his tongue relentlessly gliding over your clit as he does so, enjoying every single one of your desperate mewls.
Suguru rewards you with a slap on your cheek, a stinging mark stays behind. Lightly tapping on the side of your face, he compels you to open your mouth; dropping an orb of spit into the hole. “Swallow it,” and you obey, sticking out your tongue to prove it. “So obedient..”
You could feel yourself getting wetter and wetter by the second, before Choso hauls his head up from between your legs. Suguru’s hands clawed in your scalp; allowing him to move you around like a ragdoll— his strength making you stand up from the sofa.
Your head tilts to one side, Suguru leaning closely to your ear; “Go and give Cho' a ride, he’ll be upset if you leave him out.”
Trying to peer your eyes down to take a look at what Choso was up to, you see him struggling to undo the buttons on his pants, so eager to spend yet another minute with you.
As soon as he gets them off, he takes his thick cock in his grasp; giving it a small jerk, spitting into his hand before rubbing the slobber all over.
“..Go on, make him feel good,” Suguru whispers, pushing you closer towards Choso— you land in his lap, mind-fucked; you immediately grab his face, leaning in for yet another sloppy kiss, Choso melting into your touch.
His hands trying to position his tip at your entrance, he pulls away from the kiss for a moment; “Come on.. Sit on it,” his eyes look up into yours, almost as if he were begging.
You glance behind you, sinking down onto his cock without thinking twice. You clutch onto the fabric of his shirt, wrinkling it all together. Choso places a few kisses on your jaw, his eyes squeezing shut at the feeling of your tight walls closing in on him.
“Doing so good for me,” he whispers against your skin, “Start to move when you can, just be mindful of your piercings.”
You nod, furrowing your brows and lips parting, foreheads leaning against each other as you start to bounce up and down, his entire length filling you up and stretching your hole out, you endlessly chant his name like a prayer.
Choso’s cold hands running through your hair, trying moving loose strands away from your face. A snap goes off behind you, a familiar white flash blinding your sights— Suguru taking a photo of this pornographic moment, he takes the film and tosses it onto the ground before bringing his attention back to you.
A hand snakes onto your shoulder from behind, possibly Suguru. A pair of hands belonging to Choso resting on your hips as you moved up and down his cock, his head falling heavy into the sofa’s cushion in pure gratification.
The hand on your shoulder rushes to your mouth, covering it as you felt another cock enter your ass; a string of muffled moans trapped against the palm of Suguru’s hand.
Two cocks fucking into you at the same time, your eyes roll to the back of your head; feeling both tips in your guts, Suguru’s cock pounding into you harder than Choso’s.
You were just full of dick, and you loved it, Choso fighting the urge to hold onto your tits bouncing in his face; knowing it would be a bad idea to. He didn’t want to risk it, possibly infecting anything.
Your ass rippling against Suguru’s pelvis, you let out a long, laboured moan, your toes curling at the sensation. Suguru’s hand reaches under your chin, his voice almost mokcing you. The tips of his fingers tap against your jaw again, “You love being stuffed with our cocks, don’t you?”
You could only nod, your eyes closing as you indulged in the pleasure; mind completely blank— fear arousing in you from how feral Suguru has become; but it turns you on even more.
“Use your words, tell me you love it. Tell me.” Suguru firmly grips onto your face, moving it in all sorts of directions.
You hiccup, tears stained with hot tears. “I-I love your cocks so much, I.. I need more,” managing to choke out, he somewhat seems satisfied enough with your answer.
He peels away from you, and so does his cock, your asshole completely stretched out; your holes aching. You try to stamp your legs, squirming from all the different things coming at you .
Choso slides out of you too, his heavy cock slapping onto his abdomen. He didn't allow himself to cum. Nor did he let you. “You hear that Suguru? The slut said she wants more.” Fucked like a whore, you felt empty and lost without any cock inside of you.
Choso pushes you aside on the sofa, getting up and making his way towards the end— Suguru swapping positions with him; this time he aligned his tip with your hole, taking over as he fucked you from behind.
Suguru’s hand presses down on your back, forcing you into a more defined arch, his hips thrusting into you mercilessly, practically fucking you into the sofa. You cry into the cushions, pleading him to slow down; your hand reaching back. Suguru snapping a quick photo of his cock moving in and out of you— getting a perfect shot of you bent over in front of him.
The crisp sound of the film leaving the slit rings through your ears, before you could hear the photo falling onto the ground.
Choso guides your head back up, bringing you to eye level with his cock, forcing your mouth back down his length. He was on the verge of losing his mind too— did he want to keep you to himself forever, so he could fuck you every hour, day, week.
You were being stuffed both ends; gagging noises emitting from your throat as Choso fucked into your front like a flesh-light, Suguru on the other end drilling into you like a mad man. His leg props up onto the sofa for leverage, allowing himself to rut into you deeper than before.
You whimper all over Choso’s cock, buckets of spit spilling down his shaft, then to the ground as he used your mouth as he desired, your holes at both end not being shown any remorse.
A cacophony of moans and skin slapping echoes throughout the room, along with the faint melody coming from the radio.
“I-I’m gonna cum in this pussy,” Suguru whines, his nails digging into the skin on your hips, clutching onto the flesh trying to fucking you back onto his cock as he chased his orgasm.
A creamy ring forms at his shaft, his hands reaching down to your clit to lazily rub circles, urging you to cum as well. “Let it out baby, m-make a mess all over me.”
You grip onto the sofa’s arm rests, letting out a long groan over Choso’s cock again, your body spasming as your orgasms washed over you. Your legs shake and jitter, both feet kicking in overstimulation.
Choso pulls you by the hair off his cock, red tip slapping against your lips as he jerked himself off to his high, forcing his length back into your mouth— ropes of warm cum coated every inch of your throat.
He slides himself out for a second, the remaining spurts of his load decorating your face. “Pretty..” He breathes out, chest heaving. Choso leans in, nastily kissing you on the lips, getting a taste of his own cum off your tongue as he does.
The sight so lewd, both your saliva and remnants of his load trickling down your mouth. You try and swallow the rest, Choso smiling, so proud.
Suguru ends up bottoming into you, his hips rocking deeply in rhythm with each time his balls tighten; your brains fucked to the point that you could only think about cock.
He spills his own load into your womb, completely filling you up with his thick cum that was bound to leak out of you as soon as he pulls out; in fact, you were stuffed with cum on both ends.
Suguru strikes a spank on your ass, tenderly massaging the flesh afterwards, spreading your cheeks as he slowly slides out; cock heavily hanging as his eyes watched his cum drip out of your stretched hole.
He reaches for the camera, taking one last snapshot of your fucked up holes as a sentimental memory, grabbing the film and tossing the camera to the side.
Suguru bends down towards your pussy, licking up a bit of his cum out of you before mixing it with some saliva, spitting the ball back into your pussy, rubbing it everywhere with the help of his fingers.
Choso walks around, slouching back into the sofa; Suguru gently seating you down beside him, being mindful of your trembling legs.
All three of you remain seated, focused on trying to calm you down; the studio was littered with film everywhere, the room stinking of pure, filthy sex— bodies warm, sticky, and covered with sweat. Everyone trying to recollect themselves; faces blushed with red.
You could feel Choso’s hands run through your hair, remembering how hard they were both tugging on your scalp earlier. Suguru also rubbing your thigh up and down, soothing your nerves. Your body ached, completely fucked out of your skin.
“..I think we should have you in for a weekly dick appointment instead.”
⊹ ࣪ ˖ ⤳ © luvwestwood ‘24. all works are owned by me, and originally come from my own head. please do not re-post on a third party platform without my permission!
⊹ ࣪ ˖ ⤳ as always, thank you for the love on each and every one of my posts. 🎀🩷
[luvwestwood masterlist]
#jjk smut#suguru geto smut#geto suguru#geto smut#choso kamo#choso smut#choso kamo smut#jjk x reader#choso kamo x reader#choso kamo x you#choso kamo x female reader#suguru geto#geto suguru x reader#geto suguru x you#suguru geto x reader#suguru geto x you#jujustu kaisen#jujutsu geto#jujutsu choso
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Neon Sticky Notes
prompt: ( requested ) reminding your boyfriend you love him one sticky note at a time.
pairing: Carmen 'Carmy' Berzatto x female!reader
pairing: Carmy x Peach
fandom masterlist: FX's The Bear
word count: 2.4k+
note: baby gets what baby wants! God, do i hope this is what you want, my baby...
warnings: probably cursing, Carmy needs a nap, men being simps, this is short and sweet! it's FINALLY edited!!!
You knew he was struggling.
Worn-out, beaten down, exhausted, run ragged, amuck, and into the ground.
It was evident in the way he carried himself; the prominent bags under his eyes, the way he tossed and turned in bed before being found on the living room couch in the morning. His hair seemed greasier then usual, his skin turning gaunt and grey, and you knew he wasn't making time to eat.
By comparison, you had a simple job, something corporate and in an office. Something that made decent money; something you were good at, something you could find pride in doing.
However, Carmy's job as a chef was different; being more than stressful, and while coupled together for years now, it was still a work-in-progress each time Carmen started on a new venture. Owning, running, and converting The Beef into something "better" should've been no different, only it was - it was totally different. Carmy was frazzled, looking deranged some evenings, as if operating on adrenaline, and you were at a loss on how to help.
So, you resorted to a natural instinct - communicating.
Carmy needed reassurance, he needed support, he needed to be loved for who he is, exactly how he was, in order to keep his head on straight. You never did mind the challenge that was Carmen Berzatto, finding him akin to a puzzle. So, on your way home from work one evening, you stopped at a CVS to grab a pack of neon, multi-colored sticky notes and a brand new Sharpie marker.
You had an idea.
When you got back to your shared apartment, you unloaded the groceries you needed onto the counters before calling Carmy. "Hey, Peaches," he answered on the third ring, usual kitchen clatter in the background, "everything okay?"
"Yeah, all good."
"Sure? Sound outta breath."
"The elevator's broken, I got groceries," you groaned, "and have been skipping the gym for a couple weeks."
He chuckled, "Never skip leg day, baby, you know it's our house motto."
"Yeah, yeah, yeah, whatever - hush. I'm just wondering if you had an ETA for tonight? I have an early morning meeting, so I want to go to sleep early."
"Uh," he trailed, a muffled ruffling sounding over the line before a small clatter that made him sigh, "yeah, um, you know what? I really don't know, baby, I'm sorry. You do your thing and I'll be quiet when I get in, just leave my stuff on the couch."
"No, come to bed," you whined slightly, "I miss you."
"Awh, yeah, miss you, too, Peach. I'll be there," he promised.
You finished putting all groceries away; the dishes following, then you got started on prepping dinner. Look, you were no cook - that was all Carmy. But you weren't totally useless in a kitchen, so, you didn't mind taking over most meals now that Carmy was waist-deep in The Beef's bullshit. You played music as you cooked, poured a glass of wine, danced around, and tried to think of a list of encouraging things to remind Carmy. You ate dinner alone, and when done with clean-up, faced off with your sticky notes and Sharpie.
The first note was scribbled and stuck on the covered plate in the fridge: Bone Apple Teeth, Chef!
Then you wrote a note to leave at the door where Carm was sure to drop his keys: make sure you eat the plate I left you!
Humming, you pondered a moment before smirking and writing a third note to be left on the TV remote: I know you too well. come to bed.
Lastly, you wrote a fourth and final note to be left in the bathroom: great job today, Chef! you're killing it!
You were fast asleep when he got home. He found the note in the key bowl, smirking at your kindness and thoughtfulness. Carmy saw the messily-drawn heart and pocketed the note, toeing off his shoes and entering the kitchen. He reheated the plate you left, pocketed the second note after a silent grin of amusement, and when ready, took his hot food to the couch.
Carmy laughed when he found your third note. He left it on the table as he ate, half-watching the news segment he flipped on. When he was full and his plate clear, Carmy turned the TB off, pocketed your note, set everything in the dishwasher, started it, and then went into the bathroom. Another soft chuckle emitted as he pulled the final note in his hand - and you already know he saved it.
When he got in your shared room, he made sure to leave the notes in a random shoe box, stashing it in his closet, changed for the night, and crawled into bed with you.
This was a regular occurrence now: Carmy came home late to a barrage of sticky notes, saved them all, then crashed in bed with you. You missed each other, but understood scheduling just didn't line up right now. It wasn't like you two never saw one another, you still did - but it wasn't like it was. Time together now felt fleeting, as if you had to savor everything, so you made the most of your situation.
Was it overcompensation? Possibly. But Carmy adored your notes.
Sometimes, you'll be sat in the living room, reading a book, working on your laptop, or scrolling Instagram on your phone, while he cooks and he finds a note left on the milk carton that reads: I am UDDERLY in love with you!
Get it? 'Cause cows have udders? You were pretty proud of that pun.
Other times, he'll be up at an unGodly hour, getting a steamy hot shower, and you'll come in to pee. He doesn't think anything of anything until he gets out of the stall only to see a neon orange sticky note on the counter, saying: i love your butt! lemme pinch it!
Carmy feels himself looking forward to your little surprises. Some were funny and a little vulgar, like the note found on the eggs: fertilize MY eggs!
Some notes were more innocent, like the one he found in his shoe one morning, reading: I'm so proud of you. have a great day today!
Some just said: be home for dinner @ 8! making your fav!
Others were found, saying: you're so fucking handsome. I'm one lucky ducky!
You even tried to draw a little duck.
Some notes were motivational: you're doing a GREAT job, baby!
Some notes reminded: you have a dentist appt @ 10!
Some notes were sweet: call me during your break, cutie, i miss your voice!
And others found on the bathroom mirror were playful: you look too good today, go change!
A second note added: don't need anyone looking at your fine ass!
A third: i'm the only one allowed to look #respectfully
Each and every note had a drawn heart, being saved to a hidden shoebox. He found notes in his usual coffee mug, reminding him you loved him. He found notes on his toothpaste tube, telling him he was doing a great job. Cereal boxes now promised Carmy they were proud of him, pastas told him to have a great day, and the light switches assured reminded him how special he was.
The microwave told him you felt blessed to be his and in his jacket pocket, he was told how lucky you are to love him. Some notes swore to him he was one of a kind, others explicitly detailed what parts of him you wanted in parts of you, and a few reminded him of important dates, appointments, deadlines, anniversaries, birthdays, etc..
Sometimes, he found little treats with these sticky notes. Like when you had to make brownies for your little sister's bake sale, you left him a Tupperware full with a hot pink note, labeled: for the love of my life!
And then... One morning, when you got up for work, Carmy was already gone for his day. You went through your normal routine, entering the kitchen with the intention of making a to-go cup of coffee, only to pause and grin when a neon green sticky note greeted you from the stovetop. Written in messy, fresh, black Sharpie was: got you on my mind. love you, be home @ 6 tonight!
Carmy drew own heart and you beamed at the reciprocation. You didn't mind the distance for now, knowing he was busy and it wouldn't last forever; but the fact that he could reassure you as much as you could him warmed your heart. You felt like the Grinch when his heart grew in size, just without the painful grunting. If anything, you felt euphoric from his little note - thinking it was reassuring to still communicate even when your schedules differed.
The day passed sluggishly - only because you were actually excited to go home. Ironically, your last client of the day didn't leave until a little later than scheduled, so, when you FINALLY got off work and made it home, Carmy had beaten you. When you got through the door, you were met with a heavenly aroma; using Gandalf's advice and following your nose to enter the kitchen.
You sighed dreamily when you came to a halt in the doorway, bottom lip trapped between your teeth to attempt and restrain your ecstatic grin. Carmy was shirtless at the stove, stirring a pasta dish to coat it in the sauce of his choice. "Hi, pretty peach," he beamed at you.
"Oh, I've missed this sight," you squealed, rushing to his side to throw your arms around his neck. "Hi, baby, hi, baby, hi, baby," you chanted between chaste kisses to his cheek.
"Someone missed me," he laughed, cheeks blooming a bright red - but not from the kitchen heat.
"I feel like I haven't seen you in forever, and you know I don't do well alone, I need attention," you teased with a pout, his arm slithering around your waist - but a crinkle noise caught your attention. "Woah, hey. Did you get a new tattoo?" You pondered, looking down at his arm that was protectively bandaged.
He smirked and held his arm out, "Wanna take the plastic off for me?"
"What'd you get?"
"Find out," he whispered, staring at you with his intense baby blue eyes; waiting as you calculated your next move. Slowly, you reached out and unwrapped the protective cling wrap, getting to the gauze, then slowly peeling that from his skin.
"Ohhh, my fucking God," you whispered.
"Like it?"
"Are these... My hearts?"
He nodded, "I got 6 of them from your notes tattooed. 'Cause we've been together six years. Figured, each year, I could add one - but you gotta draw it."
"You're ridiculous," you laughed, in minor disbelief. "What made you do this?"
He eased, "You. I've never felt so confident in my life before, and I know you're a huge part of that. It feels right, being with you feels right and I wanted to show you that I see and appreciate all you do." His tone softened, "I wouldn't be me without you, Peach."
"You'd still be Carmy."
"A totally different Carmy, though," he chuckled. "I actually like who I am with you, baby. But look here, I know it's been real hectic lately, sweet girl, with the restaurant, but it's not gonna be like this forever. We're makin' progress, we're gonna get this settled."
"I know," you assured, "'cause if anyone's gonna get this done, it's you. Just don't forget to breathe every now and then - you're drowning in this stress and I need you to stay afloat, Carm."
"I'm good, Peaches, got you on my team so I can't lose," he eased, tucking you into his chest for an embrace. After a minute and a tight squeeze, he sighed, pecked the crown of your head, then mumbled, "Why don't you go wash up? Dinner's almost ready."
You agreed, stealing one last (prolonged) kiss before scampering off to the bedroom. When you got there, you almost tripped when you came to a halt; laughing loudly as the entire bed was covered in an array of neon colored sticky notes. Until you got closer and realized each note detailed a different reason Carmy loved you; from the way you search for him in your sleep to how you resembled a Gremlin if not fed within certain hours. From how you weren't afraid to dress up for the Renaissance Festival to how you throw blankets in the dryer for 15 minutes before movie nights. In fact, "movie night" was on a single note, being a fond yet routine date. You read each note carefully, tears wanting to build but you refused to let them, yet it was difficult when this was the sweetest gesture you've ever known.
Even things you were insecure about, like dimples or weight or hair color, was highlighted as a reason Carmy loved you. He listed your authenticity, generosity, thoughtfulness, charisma, incredible brain but even bigger heart. He praised your wit, your humor; adored your sneezes, and looked forward to coming home every night because he knew he was coming home to you.
You've never felt so loved before, wondering if this was what Carmy felt each time he found one of your notes.
Movement caught your peripheral, and when you looked up, Carmy was leaning in the doorway of the bedroom; arms crossed and lips pulled in a small smirk. He didn't speak, he just stared at you. You were at a loss for words, opening and closing your mouth twice; holding most of the sticky notes in your hands, but then, you settled on telling him simply, "I love you so fucking much, Carmy."
Dinner might've allegedly burned that night, but so did your love and passion for one another. Even the smallest of gestures can go farther than we anticipate, and showing someone you care could be as simple as leaving them notes around the apartment you cohabitate in, on neon colored Post It's.
Wanna know the cool thing about adult relationships? You get to love your partner out loud; being unapologetic in how you emote, and in return, you're loved by them. Each person deserves to be loved in the way they want to be loved - but you know how fucking great it is when two lovers respond to the same language? What I mean is, it could be considered rare that you, who liked to leave notes, would meet and fall in love with someone who liked to collect and read those notes. Your love language was the same as Carmy's, part of the reason you both worked so well together - but also why one day, he'd add plenty more hand drawn hearts to the collection on his forearm.
requesting rules and masterlist
The Bear masterlist
#carmy berzatto#carmy#carmy the bear#carmy x reader#carmy berzatto x reader#carmy berzatto imagine#carmen carmy berzatto#carmy berzatto x female!reader#carmy berzatto x you#carmen berzatto x reader#carmen berzatto x you#carmen berzatto fanfiction#carmen berzatto fic#carmen berzatto#carmen berzatto fluff#carmy fluff#carmy berzatto fluff#the bear#the bear fx#the bear hulu#hulu the bear#fx the bear#the bear fanfiction#the bear x reader#the bear x you#the bear x y/n#carmy berzatto x fem!reader#carmy berzatto x f!reader#the bear carmy
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First of all I love how kind you’ve been to non English speaking anon because as someone who had to learn English, it’s not easy!
Second of all I feel like we don’t see enough fics of jjk men rescuing us from danger! Like imagine gojo saving us from a curse and being like “you know there are better ways to get my attention?” IDUNNO I FELT THE NEED TO SHARE THIS ISDEA 😭
one more — gojo satoru x f!reader
a/n: it’s nothing <3 a lot of us, including myself, were in there place before so it should be the normal to be patient with them <3
you’re done for, completely and utterly done for.
you’re going to die today and it won’t be because of being stabbed by someone or something normal. no. you were going to get eat by, possibly, the most disgusting and slimy creature you’ve ever seen.
you don’t falter and still fight though, thrashing around in its hold, “let me go you two-toed slimy sewer looking rat!”
the curse seems to have taken great offense to your words cause it frowns then starts swinging you around. It would probably sue you if it could but it settles for preparing to eat you. you start screaming and letting your colorful vocabulary of curses at it.
your cursed technique long forgotten since lo and behold that curse was your natural enemy. so you have nothing to do except to curse it out till it starts crying or something.
just before you’re dropped in its mouth, a figure swiftly catches you and teleports you somewhere safe, a little far away from said curse. you look up and are met with a grinning gojo, “y’know…there are better ways to get my attention than this.”
he leans down and presses a kiss to your forehead, “you don’t need to be in danger for me to notice you, sweets.”
you snap out of your daze, “I wasn’t trying to get your attention!” you huff as you try to get down but his hold on you doesn’t falter, “oh great, I am released from the shackles of a curse only to be trapped in yours.”
he pouts, pulling you closer and nuzzling your noses together, “aw come on now; I deserve a kiss for this, wifey.”
you shake your head and he sulks, turning to walk away from the scene. you look at the curse then up at him like he has grown two heads, “satoru, what’re you doing?”
“I am not fighting until you give me a kiss.”
you gasp and turn to look at the curse once again. it is contained and won’t harm anyone but you can’t just leave it like that so you look back at your crazy attention-loving husband, “you can’t be serious.”
“I am one hundred percent serious,” he announces but he stops, smirking at you, “so?”
he should be smacked for his smugness but that will be saved for later especially when he continues talking, “I was the brave and strong husband who just saved you, after all.”
so you take a hold of his collar and pull him down, smashing your lips against his. he kisses you back instantly and you guys keep at it a for a while until you smack his shoulder, remembering that there is a curse roaming around.
“that wasn’t so hard now, was it?” he says after pulling back, grinning from ear to ear.
you pat his cheek softly and roll your eyes, “haha, very funny,” you point at the audacious curse, “now go deal with it!”
he puts you down then salutes, “yes ma’am!”
satoru then turns around to walk towards it but he suddenly stops in his track. you, who sat on the ground with your favorite drink that satoru got, groan, “what is it now?”
tilting his head so he can meet your eyes, he smiles, “what about one more kiss?”
you are about to reprimand him yet again but then he interrupts you, “on the cheek! so you don’t have to worry about it getting anywhere—at least not now!“
“I should put tape on your mouth so you shut up for a bit,” you stand up and walk towards him, “satoru, you make me think that I spoil you too much,” you hum, straightening his collar.
he puffs his chest with a pout, “is it bad that I want affection from my wife?”
you shake your head as you signal for him for him to bend down and he does so gladly, “no, but you need to get your priorities straight.”
he hums a thank you when you give him the anticipated kiss before he replies, “this is my priorities being straight.”
you roll your eyes with a chuckle, “then I have to explain to you how to prioritize correctly.”
he leans close, lips mere centimeters apart from your own, “a private lesson, huh? I don’t mind—“
you push him away with your index finger, “but later! you have a curse to deal with mister.”
reluctantly, he walks towards it, steps heavy. he looks back at you with a pout, trying to convince you once again, but you don’t falter. you’re already used to his antics and can resist them—to an extent.
giving up, satoru looks at the curse, “you ready to get beaten?”
the curses shakes its head quickly and satoru shrugs, “well, you will anyway,” the curse cries but satoru continues, “and in a heartbeat cause I have a pretty wife to get back to.”
the curses attempts to run away but satoru quickly blasts it and it’s nowhere to be found anymore.
a smile is plastered on his face and there is a spring in his step as he walks—or rather runs back to you, “date time, y/n!”
you don’t know why, but you run away, “but I wanna sleep!”
perhaps instinct.
there is no time to think about it, though, since satoru gasps offended before quickly responding, “we can just cuddle then,” he teleports right in front do you and you bump into his chest.
you grumble and he laughs while holding you up, “so what do you say? some cuddling will be pretty nice.”
“yeah, whatever,” you mumble as your arms wrap around him and you nuzzle into his chest. he presses a loud smooch to your head, ready for at least an hour of cuddling.
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do not copy or plagiarize or you will be reported
#gojo satoru x reader#gojo imagine#gojou satoru x reader#jjk x reader#jjk x you#jjk imagines#gojo x reader#gojo fluff#gojo x y/n#gojo x you#jjk gojo x you#jjk gojo x reader#gojo satoru x y/n#gojo satoru headcanons#gojo satoru one shot#gojo satoru fluff#gojo satoru x you#gojo satoru imagine#jjk x y/n
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Softly: Azriel x Reader
Warnings: Smuttttt, 18+. This is just a short, smutty fic for my az babies out there <3
***
You hadn’t been around many Illyrians before. You remember the first time you saw Azriel, how wide your eyes had gotten at the sight of the large wings behind him. You had never seen anything like that, anything so dangerously beautiful.
You had been shelving books in your little shop when he had come in. You had turned with a wide smile to greet your new customer, faltering as you took him in. Everything about him was big. You had trailed your eyes over his body before remembering your role here. You cleared your throat and put the smile back on, asking “How can I help you today?” He seemed to have not noticed your reaction to him, or was pretending he didn’t notice.
“I’m looking for a specific book, I was told you may have it here?” Azriel had responded, pulling out a piece of paper with a title and author. You had nodded and disappeared to find it for him. When you brought it back, he had given you a thankful smile and left rather quickly after.
You wanted to see him again.
Much to your pleasant surprise, Azriel began frequenting your little bookstore. You didn’t have too much traffic and sometimes he’d stay for hours talking to you. You started to consider him one of your dearest friends, looking forward to seeing his shadows enter your business.
As time went on your feelings grew for the Shadowsinger. You felt called to him. You started to need to see him, getting anxious whenever it had been a few days since his last visit. You only hoped Azriel hadn’t noticed your change towards him. You knew he would never feel the same way.
Years had gone by since your first meeting, and Az still visited you at least once a week, often more. He had started coming closer to close, helping you lock up and walk you home. You would invite him in occasionally, the two of you staying up late talking and drinking. Those were your favorite nights.
It was a night much like that when everything changed.
You admit you had a bit too much wine to drink that night, but it had been a particularly stressful week with your shop. A sudden increase in clientele had been excellent for your business in theory, yet in practice you weren’t prepared for all the new customers. You had struggled to keep stock, having to turn away many disappointed and angry faeries. Tonight you just wanted to drink and forget about all those problems.
You laughed as Azriel told you a story about his brother Cassian, tipping back more wine. You were probably sitting a bit too close to him on the sofa, but he didn’t seem to mind. You watched the way his eyes lit up as he spoke of his brothers, the way color tinted his cheeks when he revealed something embarrassing. You saw the way his shadows would swirl excitedly when he talked about something dangerous, and you loved the way his wings fluttered with them.
Oh, those wings.
They were one of your favorite parts of Azriel. You loved the way they would catch the sun, brown and red light shining through. You loved the way they reacted to his emotions, how you could tell what he was feeling that day depending on his wings. You loved how they hung strong on his back, giving him that deadly appearance.
You wanted to lick them.
You didn’t think as you reached a hand out and lightly stroked the edge of the wing closest to you. You didn’t even realize what you had done until you noticed Azriel go rigid, his story ending abruptly. You straightened up immediately, your cheeks going red. “Oh, Az I-i’m so sorry. I don’t know why I did that without even asking. Did I hurt you?” You asked, embarrassed at your actions. He shook his head, refusing to look at you. “I don’t know anything about Illyrians. Was that rude? Oh I am so sorry!” You rushed out, feeling hot tears of humiliation fill your eyes.
Azriel quickly looked at you when he heard the break in your voice, spotting your tears as they spilled out of your eyes. “Hey, no, it’s okay. I just wasn’t expecting it, that’s all.” He said comfortingly, reaching over to brush your tears away. You ducked your head, focusing on your glass of wine.
“They’re just beautiful.” You whispered. “I wanted to know what they felt like.” You slowly looked up to him, asking; “Can I touch them again?” Azriels eyes widened and his mouth opened and closed a few times. Finally he nodded, saying; “Softly.” You broke into a giddy smile and set your wine glass down on the table. You carefully reached your hand out, stroking the wing in the same spot. You let your fingers brush over their softness, wanting to feel every inch of them.
You were so caught up in memorizing the feel of Azriels wings against your fingers that you didn’t notice the way his hand gripped the armrest of your sofa. You rubbed down a particularly sensitive spot on his wings, stilling your motions as you heard him let out a heated groan. You looked into his eyes, shocked to see them blown wide with lust. “Az?” You asked curiously, confused as to what was happening.
“Do you know what touching an Illyrians wings feels like for us?” He asked, voice deep. You shook your head as you removed your fingers from him, wondering if you had hurt him in some way. He turned to you, leaning close. Your body was caged under Azriels, your heart going a million beats a minute. “It feels like this.” He spoke lowly, running his fingers over your neck. You gasped at his touch, heat flowing through your body. He seemed to enjoy your reaction, a small smile coming onto his face.
You had imagined a situation like this so many times before, so many nights with your hand between your thighs. Nothing compared to having Azriels hands on you, and all he had done was touch your neck. You were fucked.
You felt like he could read your mind as his smile widened and he leaned down to press a light kiss to the place his fingers had just moved from. You arched into him, wanting more, needing more. “I’ve wanted to touch you for years now.” He whispered over your skin, one hand falling to press your hip down into the couch. You gave a soft moan at his words, desire ripping through your body. You didn’t think twice before you reached up and ran your fingers over his wings again.
“I’ve been wanting to do that for years.” You breathed out, his hand tightening on your hip. Azriel wrapped his other hand around your throat, forcing your eyes to look into his.
“Do it again.” He ground out, a low moan ripping through him as you ran your fingers down the ridges again. “You have no idea what you do to me.” He said before sliding his lips over yours.
The kiss was passionate, needy, searing. It was everything you wanted and more. You wrapped one hand around the back of his neck, the other running down his wings again and again. You gasped when he ground down into you, his tongue sliding into your mouth.
You. Were. Fucked.
The hand on your hip slid under your waistband, finding you over your underwear. He chuckled darkly against your mouth when he felt the wetness seeping through. “All for me?” He asked, kissing you harder. Azriel slipped his fingers under the delicate lace, running them up and down, teasing you.
“Az,” you moaned out, pushing your hips into his touch. He pulled away and smiled down at you, enjoying the lust all over your face.
“What do you say, my needy girl?” His voice was hot, dangerous. You were going to explode if he didn’t touch you.
“Please, Az,” You breathed, his fingers toying with you. “Please touch me.”
At those words his fingers plunged into you, your back arching off the couch as you threw your head back. Fuck. The hand on your throat angled your head back to look at him, a smirk on his face. “Now now, I want to look at those pretty eyes when I make you cum.”
Oh gods. Oh gods. You were done for. You were done for. Azriel moved the palm of his hand so it was rubbing against you, heightened the pleasure you were feeling. You couldn’t help as moan after moan spilled from your lips, the coil tightening in your stomach. You were so close, so close.
Azriel flicked his fingers inside of you once more and you came with a scream, shaking under him. “That’s it, that’s my good girl.” He murmured, kissing your neck, your ears, your face as his fingers helped you through your high. He stopped once you let out a cry of overstimulation, pulling his fingers out of you before popping them in his mouth.
Fucking. Hell.
“Az, if you don’t fuck me right this second i’m going to lose my mind.” You said, your words dripping with desire. His eyes darkened as he leaned over you, the hand on your throat tightening.
“I don’t believe you give out the commands here,” was all he said before attacking your lips with his again. Your hands were all over him, on his chest, on his wings, desperately undoing his pants. You slid him out once you got the ties undone, groaning at the thick length in your hand.
“Az,” you moaned again, pressing your hips into his. “Please.”
“Please what?” He teased, dragging his tip through your folds. You grabbed his head and pulled him down to you, kissing him with as much desire as you could muster.
“Fuck me.” You whispered against his lips, a cry coming from you a second later as he began to push in. Gods, he was so big.
“That’s it, that’s it. You’re taking me so well. Such a good girl for me, aren’t you?” He moaned as he sunk down into you, inch by inch. Once he bottomed out he took a moment for both of you to catch your breath.
You raised your hand, running a finger down his wings again. “Please move, Azriel.” You gasped out, feeling his body push into yours at your touch.
“As you wish.” He answered, pulling out before thrusting all the way back in. You couldn’t help the scream that tore from you. You dug your nails into his back, your other hand still playing with his wing. He began biting and sucking on your neck, relishing the moans you were giving him. “I won’t last much longer if you keep doing that.” He ground out as you ran your fingers down his wings again.
“Good. I want you to cum in me.” You breathed against his skin, a particularly strong bite settling on your neck as he took in your words. Az picked up speed, hand sliding between your legs to circle you. You began moaning his name like a prayer, unable to think anything else. He brought your eyes down to look at his again, fucking you through another orgasm. You scratched your nails on his wing and he came a second after you, spilling into you with a roar.
You both laid there for a few minutes, breathing heavily and processing what you just did. You began to worry that he was going to regret it, that it was a drunken mistake, that he was never going to want to see you again. Azriel pulled out of you slowly, watching as his cum dripped from you.
“I don’t know if I can go without seeing this everyday for the rest of my life.” He said, voice deadly serious. Your eyes widened at his words, your heart soaring. You rose to your knees, pressing your hands to his chest as you lightly kissed him.
“Then make me yours, Shadowsinger.” You said against his lips, a smile breaking out on his face. He wrapped his arms around you and pulled you back down on the couch, kissing all over your face.
“You’re already mine.”
***
This was just a short little thing to breakup the angsty ones i’ve been writing! I needed something a little easy haha. Please give me all your feedback! My requests are open as well if theres anything you guys want specifically <3
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yoongi fucking his girlfriend raw for the first time and her telling him to cum inside because she wants his babies
First time
a/n: as the request did not have many specifications I went straight to the point, hope you don't mind 😣.
warnings: Breeding kink, a little bit soft, in fact there are not many warnings, it is quite soft.
wc: 1.1k
taglist: @thunderg @minjianhyung @queenv1997 @yoongtism @lizzymizzy-blogg @zent9 @superbbananananana
"Shit" you moaned, squirming on your sheets as you felt Yoongi's fingers touch the exact spot that made the knot in your belly get tighter and tighter, although, come to think of it, it could also be due to Yoongi's tongue teasing your clit.
"I haven't done this in a long time" he whispered, straightening up as he pulled his fingers from inside you and licked them. During all that time he didn't take his eyes off you and your body. "Do you think you're lubed up enough to get my cock in?".
"Yes" you sighed, resting a hand on your chest in an attempt to calm your heartbeat. It wasn't very helpful, but at least you tried. You turned your head toward your nightstand, reaching your shaking arm toward the drawer to pull out a condom. You frowned as you felt Yoongi's hand stop you quickly, "What's wrong?" you turned to look at him, returning your arm to its place.
"It's just..." he scratched the back of his neck, grimacing with his mouth. His cheeks were barely tinged with a pastel pink color you'd seen once or twice when he felt too embarrassed, "could we, you know, do it without a condom? Only if you want to" he hastened to clarify, avoiding looking you in the eye.
"It's okay" you cupped his cheeks, caressing them gently, "we've been together for years, and I doubt that with one time anything will happen" you smiled at him as reassuringly as you could, hoping you could convey that feeling to him.
"God, I love you so much," he settled between your legs, moving down until he was face to face with you, "I don't think you can imagine how much I do," he kissed your jaw, leaving a trail of kisses running all the way from where he started to your bra.
"Then show me how much you love me" you whispered in his ear, hugging his neck and pulling him even closer to you. You shivered slightly as you felt his breath collide against your chest.
"Oh believe me, I will" he laughed softly, gently pushing the tip of his cock inside you. You both moaned before the skin to skin contact. It was your first time doing this, and although it felt strange, it was a sensation you definitely wouldn't regret feeling. "How is it possible that after all these years you're still so tight?" he growled over your collarbones, leaving a mark right in the center.
"Don't ask, just enjoy it" You tried to laugh, but were quickly interrupted by a lunge from Yoongi.
If there was one thing that characterized Yoongi in sex, it was that he would never start soft and gentle. He liked to go straight to his climax point, feel as much as possible in the shortest time and repeat it over and over again until he was satisfied. That was your Yoongi.
"Feels good" he murmured against your skin, pounding your pussy hard. A shit-eating grin appeared on his face as he heard you moan loudly the moment the tip of his cock hit your G-spot. He loved how you reacted every time he found that sensitive spot.
"Fuck" you brought your hands to his hair, pulling on it to keep yourself grounded. You let your head fall back, giving Yoongi the opportunity to lick, bite and mark your neck as he pleased.
Yoongi moaned as he felt your walls clench around him tightly, clinging to your hips as if his life depended on it. It would probably leave marks, but he didn't care right now, neither you nor him.
"I love the feel of you squeezing my cock," he said as he closed his eyes and concentrated on increasing the speed of your onslaught. His hand gently caressed the marks he had left on your neck, causing a soft sigh to escape your lips.
"More" you moaned, moving your hands down from his hair to his shoulders, burying your deep red nails into his skin.
"More?" he teased back, taking one of your legs and pulling it up his shoulder. You moaned loudly as you felt his cock go even deeper than it was before. "Shit, Y/N, you're so sensitive" he laughed, moving his hand down to your womanhood to take your clit between his fingers and play with it as he pleased.
You hunched your back to him, closing your eyes tightly. The knot in your stomach was becoming more and more unbearable and you weren't sure how much longer you could continue. "Yoonie" you whimpered between moans, looking up at him with misty eyes and dilated pupils.
"It's okay, it's okay, I've got you" he bent down a little, just enough to kiss your cheek, "do it as soon as you're ready."
You nodded awkwardly, starting to move your hips against his so you could get your long desired release. The moment you came your whole body trembled from the spasms, and you almost melted as you felt Yoongi embrace you as carefully as possible with the intention of regulating your body's movement.
"That's it, fuck, you're squeezing me so good" Yoongi closed his eyes, concentrating on how good your tight, wet pussy felt. He was so immersed in the sensation that he almost forgot he wasn't wearing a condom. "Shit" he whispered, trying to get out of your pussy as quickly as possible. He moaned in surprise as he felt you imprison his hips with your legs. You still looked a little tired from your recent orgasm, but apparently you were determined not to let it out. "Honey, I'm going to come soon, I need-".
"Cum inside" you whispered, moving your hips against his, "I want you to come inside, I want to have your baby."
And that broke Yoongi for a few seconds. Only for a few seconds, because almost instantly he reacted and brought his mouth to yours in search of a desperate kiss. You gasped as you felt Yoongi's thrusts get deeper and stronger, and only moments later, you felt his cum spill inside you as you swallowed your boyfriend's moans with the kiss.
You both fell silent after finishing. You kept your eyes closed and your hand in his hair, he, for his part, had his head resting on your chest, caressing your waist with his fingertips. "Y/N?"
"Yes?" you whispered, giving a yawn. Fucking Yoongi always wore you out, even though he was the one doing most of it.
"We're going to need a lot more cum if you want a baby, you know that?" he chuckled above your ear, moving his hand down to your center, caressing your sensitive area.
You whimpered as you felt his intentions bump against your inner thigh, "We just finished."
"The night is still long" he nodded, kissing you passionately as he straightened back up on top of you.
He definitely wasn't going to let you sleep tonight.
Materlist.
#bts x reader#bts x you#bts imagine#bts fanfic#bts x y/n#bts x fem!reader#fanfic#bts x oc#fiction#yoongi x y/n#yoongi x reader#yoongi x you#yoongi x oc#suga x you#suga x reader#suga x y/n#min yoongi x reader#min yoongi x y/n#min yoongi x you#min yoongi x oc#yoongi smut#yoongi fic
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Twst/DDV AU? [OB!Characters]
Has anyone ever done a Twisted Wonderland/Disney Dreamlight Valley AU? A reader that comes from DDV, who knows and even grew up with all of the seven (I know not all of them are in the game, but they surely can be added with time), and the reader just keeps on talking about them as if they were friends. The scandal!
Riddle would collar you as soon as you dared to speak so casually of the Queen of Hearts, but once you showed him some pictures of you and the Queen going on tea parties, he would be so sorry for it. He would be fascinated with you because if the Queen was that close of a friend with you, surely it was for a good reason!
Leona would be somewhat impressed. I mean, Scar isn't one to be friendly with anyone, so you getting along with Scar would make him want to find out how interesting you truly are.
As soon as Azul hears that you are friends with Ursula, you are getting promotional coupons for Monstro Lounge. You want something that isn't on the menu? He's got you covered! Someone is annoying you? They will be taken care of! Of course, all of it comes at a cost. Azul wants to know everything about his greatest idol, Ursula!
Kalim would be fascinated to learn that you know any of the seven. He would want you to spend the day at Scarabia just so you could share all your childhood tales with them. Kalim might even host a party so that everyone could come together and listen to your stories. In the middle of all those tales, you notice that whenever you bring up Jafar, Jamil seems to be somewhat more interested in the topic.
By the Seven! Vil wants—no, he needs to know all the details. Is she as beautiful as they state in the stories? Just like Kalim, you spend most of the time telling everything to Vil like some gossip. He will be doing your makeup while you talk. Rook joins to ask you about Snow White, and you swear that you had never seen Vil roll his eyes so badly at someone.
Idia wouldn't be very interested in the subject. Or would he? He can't deny that it is kind of impressive you knowing the Seven and even being friends with all of them. He'd probably overhear some of your stories through some cameras, and soon Ortho would catch him being so enthralled in them that he would invite you over to meet his brother in person. Much to Idia's dismay.
This literally means you know Malleus's grandmother, you totally have her blessing for the two of you to get married. He would be so surprised! And when you go into full detail with various stories, he can't stop but hear them, almost as if he is looking at some gargoyles.
When you return to Dreamlight Valley and meet up with the Seven, you talk about all the boys you have met that oddly resemble each of them. Slowly, this seems to turn into a betting game between the Seven to see which one of the boys you will end up with. Each one of them will hold your attention for as long as possible to talk about their favorite, and they will sabotage everyone's ideas.
You will be having a tea party with Riddle, the two of you laughing at some silly stories you were telling him. The Queen of Hearts is so giddy and happy, and then it starts raining heavily, ruining the tea date. Maleficia grins at The Queen of Hearts for ruining her plans.
One day, you are napping with Leona in the botanical garden, enjoying such a peaceful moment. He is reaching for you, trying to take you in a hug when suddenly a bucket of water is dropped on top of him! Oops! You look at the student in question, and for a second, feel that their eyes had a weird tone of color to them but didn't question it as you watched Leona run after them. There you have Jafar mocking Scar's lazy tactics.
Eating lunch with Azul, the two of you talk about school-related stuff, his hand getting slowly closer to yours on top of the table. But before he can hold it, he starts coughing, needing to excuse himself to the bathroom. The Evil Queen laughs, having tampered with Azul's food, and Ursula can only watch as she plans her revenge.
Jamil and you are cooking; he is teaching you some of the dishes from Scalding Sands. You watch as he places his hand on top of yours, trying to demonstrate how to correctly cut the vegetables, and then a fire starts! Jamil apologizes millions of times, for this had never happened before. And Jafar rolls his eyes as he hears Hades's laugh behind him.
Helping you pick out some clothes, Vil decides that the best option would be making custom clothes for you. He takes your measurements, touching your soft skin with the excuse of getting the right fit. The intimate moment gets interrupted when a thunderbolt sounds outside, and you watch as Vil's face pales, he had nicked himself with the needle, piercing his perfect skin. He leaves you there alone for the next few moments, as The Evil Queen takes notes on how to ruin Maleficia's day.
Malleus and you are walking around the school campus at night on your typical stroll. There is a small lake next to the two of you, your hands touching from time to time as he slowly gains the courage to fully take hold of your hand. However, a fish literally spits water on him, ruining the moment. Maleficia needs to hold her own magical powers before she fries Ursula.
I didn't write about Scar and The Queen of Hearts sabotaging the dates because, to be honest, I don't know what they could do. I believe Scar would heavily focus on talking about how Leona is perfect for you in every aspect, flaunting his wealth and good looks. The Queen of Hearts would also have a similar approach, she would invite you to have some tea with her while speaking of Riddle's charm and his composed gentleman ways.
──── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ────
If you liked this post check out @twisted-wonderland-but-gayer they have a whole collection of stories with the seven and they are all amazing!
#twst#disney twst#twisted wonderland#twst wonderland#twisted wonderland x reader#twst reader#disney twisted wonderland#twst x reader#x reader#riddle rosehearts#riddle rosehearts x reader#riddle x reader#twst riddle#leona kingsholar x reader#leona x reader#leona kingscholar#twst leona#azul x reader#azul ashengrotto#twst azul#azul ashengrotto x reader#jamil viper x reader#jamil viper#twst jamil#kalim al asim#twst kalim#vil#vil shoenheit x reader#twst vil#vil schoenheit
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When Steve wakes up, he is very confused. His room looks very different and unfamiliar- but he knows it's his. It still has the plaid wallpaper his mom had picked out for him (he hadn't liked it, but there was a lot of lines and pretty colors).
The toy car his babysitter, Sarah, had gotten him for his fifth birthday isn't on his dresser anymore. He knows that she'd left it there for him last night, playfully insisting that he couldn't play with it until his actual birthday.
He'd been so excited to play with it. He wants to cry, and wail. He wants to run to his parents and scream until they give it back.
But they aren't home. That's why his babysitter had been over the previous night. They have a very important business trip that they aren't allowed to miss, not even for Steve's birthday.
The pictures in the hall look different too. Sarah had put up some cool pictures for him. She'd done the same for his fourth birthday. They had to take them down at the end of the day, but it had been nice to have family pictures up. Even if it was just for a day.
Sarah isn't downstairs.
He almost does scream this time. She'd promised that she'd stay the night, sleeping on the sofa, so he could have pancakes for breakfast. It's one of the many things that he can't, or isn't allowed, to make on his own.
His cake isn't in the fridge either. He even pulls a chair over so he can climb on it, to see if she'd hidden it on one of the higher shelves.
He sits on one of the dining chairs, watching the clock, and waiting.
After two hours pass, he gives up any hope he has.
Sarah, just like his parents, is probably too busy for him. He reasons that she probably just forgot to tell him. His mom had done that one time- it had stung, but he couldn't blame her. He forgot lots of stuff, even if it is important.
The only cereal in the pantry is some plain, corn brand that he doesn't recognise. It tastes just as bad as it looks, but there isn't a lot of food anymore.
At least, not a lot that he can make.
He has a second bowl, putting a few spoons of sugar in. It's not much better, but he doesn't feel so hungry anymore.
The TV looks different too. There's weird and new things playing. It's fun, interesting, and distracts him well enough that he's able to keep himself from worrying about how long he'll have to be alone again.
The next day goes the same.
The third day, he risks cooking. It ends up a little burnt, but it's better than cereal all the time.
The fourth day, he can't eat the food he tries to cook. It smells too nasty. He has to have cereal again. The sugar helps.
The fifth day, he doesn't risk cooking. His parents have never left him alone, without a babysitter, for more than a week, so he'll have a nice meal soon.
The sixth day, he checks their voicemail. There's a few odd messages from grown up sounding people, asking about how he's feeling, but he doesn't recognise any of their voices. He doesn't know what numbers he should try calling. He hopes they try calling again.
The seventh day, he sits at the bottom of the stairs. He stares at the front door, ready to jump up and give his mom and dad a warm welcome home.
The eighth day, he's starting to worry. Surely his parents will remember to call a different babysitter?
The ninth day, there's a key in the door. He almost misses it, sat in the kitchen, glaring at his cereal.
"Steve!" Someone calls. It sounds like one of the nice, unfamiliar grown ups who left a voicemail message. "Stevie! You here? How are- oh my god."
"Hi," Steve greets. He waves, tries giving his most polite smile. He almost forgets to keep his lips shut- his dad told him that his teeth don't look nice enough for a grin that big yet. "You're one of the nice people who left me a message, right?"
She stares at him for a long moment, mouth hanging open. "Steve?"
"That's me! What's your name?"
"Robin."
He sticks a hand out to her. "I's nice to meet you Miss Robin!"
"Yeah," she replies, voice high and thin. Her hand is trembling when she gently shakes his hand. "I'm... gonna need to use your phone. Real quick, ok?"
"Um... ok. But you can't make long distance calls, mommy will be very mad at me." He bites his thumb nail, following her into the hall. "Are you a babysitter? Is Sarah sick?"
"Sarah?" Robin echoes, questioningly. She's only half paying attention though, pushing in a phone number.
"My babysitter. She was supposed to be here for my birthday."
"It's your birthday?" She chokes out, spinning around so fast she stumbles. She looks heartbroken.
"Not anymore! It's ok, you don't need to be sad. She gave me my present early too, so it was good."
"Wait. How long have you been... what have you been eating?"
"Um. Cereal, mostly. All the food is different. It's weird."
"That's not- oh, hi," she turns away slightly, talking to whoever is on the phone. "Yeah, I'm at Steve's right now. Gather, like, everyone. We have a major emergency."
"No!" Steve quickly says. He tugs at the bottom of her top. "Not an emergency! You can't say that, you'll get me in trouble!"
"You don't understand, this is-"
"No, please," he pleads. He can only hope he won't get in trouble for talking back to her. "I'm sorry."
"Ok, ok, alright," she agrees. She pauses for a second, listening. "No, that was Steve. Yeah, exactly, that's why-"
"Tell them it isn't an emergency. Please. If dad hears, I'll be in big trouble."
"Ok, big guy. It's not an emergency. Just... yeah, do that. Yeah. Alright. No, I'll be fine. I can deal with it. Ok, see you soon."
She hangs up with a sigh, turning to look at him. She still looks sad.
"Are you ok, Miss Robin?"
Her laugh sounds strained, but she laughs. "I'm alright. How are you?"
"I'm ok. Do you know when mommy and daddy will be back?"
"I don't. I'm sorry, Stevie."
"It's ok. It's only, like... I can't really, uh, cook."
"I can make you something. What's your fave? It was your birthday, you said? Let's get you something special! How old are you?"
He stumbles a little, trying to keep up with her fast talking as well as he long strides. "I'm five. Sarah was going to make me pancakes."
"We can do pancakes." She searches the cupboards and fridge, frowning. "Where is anything?"
"I dunno. I looked but everything is all gone or weird."
"Well... we'll just have to have pancakes later. Special pancakes, for the special birthday boy."
"I guess."
She steps close, putting her hands on her hips as she looks him over. "Are you sure you're five? Did you hit your growth spurt early? You're getting real big."
"I dunno. Mommy says I'm gonna be tall and be a real ladies man, or something."
"Do you even know what that means?"
"Not really. Mommy thinks it's cool though."
"Hm. Are you too big to pick up?"
"Oh, you're not supposed to. Daddy says I'm a big boy now. Big boys don't get picked up."
"Your dad's an asshole."
Steve giggles, quickly covering his mouth with both hands. "You're not supposed to say that! It's a naughty word!"
"Supposed to do this, supposed to do that," she tutts. She leans down, scooping him up into her arms, resting him on her hip. "Your five, stop being so boring!"
Her hand feels so big on his back, like there's no way he could fall with her holding him. She doesn't even seem to mind his hand automatically grabbing the collar of her shirt.
"Daddy doesn't like it when people pick me up."
"What do you like? Hm? Do you want me to put you down?"
"... No."
"Then I'm not putting you down. Daddy isn't here to tell us off, is he? And what he doesn't know, can't hurt him."
She bounces him a few times, making him giggle. Judging by her satisfied grin, that was her aim.
It confuses him, a little. Mostly because she keeps doing that- little things, little comments, trying to make him laugh. Trying to make him smile. Even just listening to him talk about things. Little things. Silly things. Like she isn't annoyed when he goes on, and on, and on.
By the time another person comes in, he's decided that she's the best person in the whole wide world. If she puts him down or tries to leave, he's going to throw a tantrum.
He knows it's bad, but he doesn't want her to leave too. She's cool.
"Oh, God. Robin, please tell me that the baby isn't Steve."
"He's five," Robin corrects. "And yes, it's Steve. I checked, it's him."
"What the hell happened to him?"
"I don't know, I called you!"
"Is something wrong with me?" Steve asks, voice quiet and timid.
"No!" Robin quickly tries to say, at the same time the man says, "yes, obviously."
"Dustin!" Robin scolds.
"What? Lying to him won't help!"
"Neither will being a dick about it!" She tutts at him, adjusting Steve in her arms when she looks to him. "It's nothing, like, bad. It's just kinda weird. See, when we saw you, a week ago... you were a little bit older than me. And now you're five."
Steve stares at her for a moment. She looks too serious, too honest.
"Weird," he says.
"Exactly," she agrees. "From what you've said, though, it's not that bad. You're still you, and you're healthy. You're just... not so big."
"Maybe El can fix him," Dustin mutters, squinting at Steve. He leans close. "When did this happen?"
"He's been like this for a week," Robin tells him. Her voice is quiet, almost scared- it doesn't help that Dustin looks horrified too. "At least."
"Who's been taking care of him?"
"No one."
"What the hell," Dustin turns his frown on Steve. "Why didn't you call anyone?"
"Not supposed to unless it's a real emergency," Steve says. "Mommy says she has a repo... rep... rep-yuh-tay-shun. It's a big thing."
Dustin looks heartbroken, turning to Robin, who shrugs back at him. He groans after a pause, frowning at Robin. "Shit. You can't drive."
"Oh, shit."
"I'll call Eddie," Dustin sighs, already heading to the hall.
"Who's Eddie?" Steve asks.
"Eddie's a friend. He looks a little scary, but don't worry. He's a big softie, an absolute teddy bear." She leans close, whispering loudly with a grin. "Don't tell him I told you, though. He likes to pretend that he's all tough and mean."
"And he's... not mean?"
"Not a cruel bone in his body."
"Ok," he bites at his thumb, frowning when Robin gently pulls his hand out his mouth. "You won't leave though, right?"
"I'm not going anywhere."
"You gotta promise, though! Pinky Promise!" He lifts a hand, sticking his pinky up- Robin almost immediately wraps her own around his.
"I promise I won't leave you. Who knows what could happen if I leave you alone with the gremlins." She pretends to shudder. "Oh, the horrors.."
"He'll be here in five minutes," Dustin announces.
"That's... quick."
"Yeah. I barely got out 'Steve is in trouble' before he hung up."
"Maybe don't start like that next time," Robin rolls her eyes. She adjusts Steve again, trying to sit him higher on her hip. "He's probably breaking at least, like, five speeding laws or something."
"I don't think that's how it works."
"Whatever." She huffs. "Jesus. Steve, bud, I might need to put you down for a sec."
"Oh... um... do you have to?"
"My arms are really starting to hurt, bud," she says. She looks as upset at the idea as he feels. "Maybe we could sit down together. Would that be a good compromise?"
"Yeah!" He grins. "What's a comp- compa-"
"Com-pruh-mise." She says it slowly, careful to sound it out, as she sits down on the sofa. She pulls Steve around so he's sat on her knees, facing her. She keeps one hand on his back, supporting him.
"Com-pa-mise," Steve repeats.
"Oh, that was great!" Robin encourages, laughing at how big and excited Steves responding grin is. "Well, compromise is when..."
Robin is so patient with him, taking her time with him, making sure he understands what she's saying- before easily jumping onto whatever tangent he brings up.
It feels like only a few minutes have passed by the time the doorbell rings. Dustin stands to answer- Steve had completely forgotten he was there the whole time, too caught up in his conversation with Robin.
He doesn't come back for a moment. Steve can hear muttering, straining to hear what they're saying, but the living room doors shut.
A man follows him inside. He's tall, with long hair and dark clothes. He looks different to anyone Steve has ever seen before. He looks scary.
"Oh god," he mumbles, frowning at Steve. "You're not joking."
Steve tugs at Robins sleeve, leaning close to her, whispering, "who's that?"
"Oh, right!" Robin groans when she stands, lifting Steve with her. "Steve, this is Eddie. Eddie, this is Steve."
"This is Steve," Eddie repeats. "Jesus Christ."
"Why do you look so scary?" Steve blurts out. He slaps a hand over his mouth, horrified.
But Eddie just laughs. "Damn, Stevie, tell me what you really think."
"You do!" Steve snaps, face warming. "All the black and chains and stuff."
"Robin is wearing 'black and chains and stuff'."
"Yeah, but Robins cool."
"You wound me," Eddie gasps, slapping a hand to his chest. "I'm totally cooler than Robin."
"Nope," Robin quickly cuts in. "Steve said I'm cool, not you. It's been said, declared- no, decreed! Facts are facts, Eds, suck on it!"
"Ew," Steve and Eddie say in sync, grimacing.
"Alright," Dustin interrupts, hands on his hips. "You're introduced, now can we go? Now?"
Part two
#stranger things#steve harrington#eddie munson#robin buckley#ficlet#stevecentric#I've been trying to remember where I wanted to go with this but failing miserably so I'm just posting it#it's not great but I like it so 🤷♂️
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I Laugh Like Me Again... She Laughs Like You - Part 4
Pairing: Azriel x Reader
Description: Azriel would give anything to hold you one more time.
Warnings: Angst (not that bad)
Word Count: 6680
Notes: This chapter was actually trying to fight me. I'm still not sure how I feel about it. Hope you enjoy!
Part 3 ○ Part 5
The days were blurring together the longer you stayed in this room. You've long since memorized the golden stripes and swirls beautifully decorating the navy walls, counted the teardrop-like glittering stones hanging from the small chandelier. You've gone through every closet and box in this room as well. Unsurprisingly, the room was almost empty, but you weren't looking through it to find any information anyway, you'd really done it out of boredom, and admittedly some curiosity.
You knew you couldn't complain about your treatment in this house, you'd never heard of a prisoner being treated to home cooked meals and expensive clothes. The House had even brought you books and journals in case you wanted to read or write, and Azriel brought you little treats from the bakeries in town - things you suspect he already knew you liked. He also kept you company every chance he got, even if it meant simply sitting together in silence. You didn't go a day without seeing him. But it was hard to focus on romance novels, chocolate cupcakes or even the captivating hazel eyed male when your entire reality was shattering around you.
The day after you met the High Lord and Lady, Azriel had found you snooping through the few clothes left behind by Feyre, and that same night he dropped off what he called some of your old belongings - some clothes and jewelry so you didn't have to borrow anything else from the High Lady. Everything was neatly folded and carefully arranged, it seems Azriel was extremely meticulous about how to store his late wife's belongings. He told you he's barely allowed himself to touch them in fear of ruining anything.
The clothes had since lost your scent, even if put away in a closed box it would be impossible for it to linger after a century. Still, you knew these were your things, somehow you could feel it deep inside you. You hadn't told Azriel about this, scared of getting his hopes up.
There was nothing personal in the box, Azriel was probably reluctant in letting you see them in case it overwhelmed you and triggered any more painful reactions, but there was enough for you to get a sense of who you were before.
It was clear she lived a happier and much more fulfilled life than yours. The clothes were all beautiful, if a little outdated. They came in all sorts of colors and fabrics, but even if you still liked them now, you know you'd never buy something like this for yourself.
Working at the guild, you had to prioritize functionality. You didn't have many personal belongings, you traveled a lot for missions and had to keep hidden, never staying in the same place for longer than a couple of months at a time. Your clothes reflected this, you prefered to wear pants or even your armor since you never knew when you'd be called for a mission or attacked.
You always had to be ready to drop everything at any moment so there was no use getting attached to anything or anyone. Even your favorite dagger was simply the model you've found works best for you, and you can get it anytime from different blacksmiths. The small hoops currently in your ears are the only jewelry you actually own and it's more of a way to keep the holes open for when you have to do undercover missions in which you might need to dress up.
There was no time or place for getting pretty clothes that made you feel good or buying a nice pair of earrings for the sake of it. Even less for making friends. You were living an empty life, something you always had a hard time coming to terms with, but that seems impossible to accept now that you know what you could have had, what you used to have and was taken from you.
Not being able to even trust your own memories affected you more than you'd ever admit, knowing things you considered unquestionable facts before that night were all made up. You've had to rely on what Azriel tells you and your own intuition to try and fill in the gaps. Your body seemed to be giving you clues, nudging you in the right directions but it only left you beyond frustrated that you could feel like all the answers were on the tip of your tongue but not being able to put your finger on it.
From what you've gathered, the night you disappeared from the Night Court corresponds with the mission in which you almost died, meaning someone in the guild - your handler, if your suspicions are correct - must have found you and brought you in. It's safe to say that, aside from a few lies and omissions here and there, your memories since that night can be trusted. But everything before that was all a lie, over a century of your life was nothing more than a made up story.
A burning feeling behind your eyelids has you forcefully shaking out your thoughts. You can't let yourself get consumed before you even find out what exactly happened, before you can get your revenge. And you refuse to cry in this room where anyone, especially Azriel, could walk in at any moment and see you in such a state. If you had to pick one helpful thing the guild taught you, it was how to handle your emotions.
You knew the High Lord was making good on his promise, knew that Azriel was working to help you as well. He'd only ever left your side to look into any information you could give him about the guild, though your knowledge was limited. You weren't a high ranking member and they were more than careful. You didn't know anything about the other members, as much as they didn't know anything about you.
Still, you weren't used to waiting around while everyone else did all the work and it took them over a week to schedule a new meeting with you, where you hopefully will learn more about this whole situation and what they intend to do with you. It feels like they're keeping you in the dark, something you knew you'd also do in their place, but that has left you feeling nothing but frustrated and worthless.
That meeting was happening in less than an hour and anticipation was eating away at you. Azriel promised he was going to take you to the office, letting you use him as a safety line as you've done so often these days.
Aside from the welcome information and decisions you hope would be talked through, you were also just excited to leave this room for a few hours at least. Only being able to feel the wind through an open window was getting old, and the city below this house felt like it was almost calling to you at this point, but you were too scared of seeming too interested since you didn't know if they'd find it suspicious. Just because the High Lord left the room on a friendlier note doesn't mean he'll trust you completely after what you've done.
You were technically allowed out of the room, free to walk around the House, with Azriel's supervision of course, but after your first attempt you decided it wasn't worth the trouble.
It had been mostly a miscalculation on your part. You were so consumed with your problems and with finding some sort of distraction that you almost forgot Azriel wasn't the only one you knew before, didn't stop to think what reaction they all would have to you.
Azriel asked you to join him for breakfast downstairs as he usually did, trying to get you to move around and talk with the other residents of the House. You accepted, tired of being in the stuffy room and curious to meet the General and his mate, who you've sometimes felt around the House and heard so much about from Azriel.
The atmosphere turned painfully awkward as soon as you entered the dining room with the shadowsinger at your side, making the other residents of the house look up to meet your eyes, surprised you had left the room. It wasn't long before Cassian stormed out, barely making an excuse on his way out after getting a good look at you, his mate following right behind him.
You ended up eating breakfast alone with Azriel, the same way you would have if you'd stayed in your room like you always did instead. Except now you couldn't take the general's haunted expression out of your mind. It truly had looked like he'd seen a ghost. Maybe he did.
Azriel apologized to you on his behalf, even though it wasn't his or Cassian's fault, and you're almost positive there was some sort of fight between them, though you hope not too severe. You'd hate for Azriel to get into arguments with his family over you. He didn't invite you downstairs again after that, simply joining you in your room whenever he could. The reminder of how caring the shadowsinger has been with you almost brings a smile to your lips.
“I'll make you fall for me again.”
Those words haven't left your mind since that night. You've never had anyone look at you with so much love in their eyes, and tell you something so bold with such conviction.
You're not sure you deserve it, and you're terrified you'll never remember him because you know this version of you can't ever be compared to the one in his memories. Even if you end up regaining your memories, it's impossible for things to truly go back to how they were. It's been too long and you've changed too much. The both of you know this.
You haven't actually talked about his or your feelings since that night, but it's clear that he still loves you, well he loves the female he once knew anyway, you're not so sure you're even that similar to her aside from your appearance. It doesn't feel fair to let him dote on you, knowing he's in love with a version of you that will never come back, knowing that, even with the fluttering of your heart, your feelings for him don't come close to his.
It makes you feel like you're taking advantage of him, how he's so dedicated to taking care of you and to restoring your memories, even trying to find the people who hurt you, while to you he's a stranger. Even if an extremely handsome stranger whose company you enjoy a lot, who makes you smile and even laugh despite the precarious circumstances you've found yourself in, who makes you believe you can get through this.
You can't deny you have a reaction to him either, every soft touch feels like lightning running through your veins, and every whisper of your name has goosebumps spreading all over your skin. Your body obviously still remembers how it feels to love him and to be loved by him in return, but the butterflies in your stomach don't even come close to the depth of his feelings for you. It's glaringly obvious that Azriel would do anything for you, even going as far as letting you stab him the very first night you met and brushing it off when you tried to apologize during this week.
Truthfully, falling for Azriel sounds like the easiest thing in the world, but you don't think you'd ever feel like you deserve him.
The shadows in the room start shifting ever so slightly as if reading your thoughts - something Azriel has assured you they can't do - a sign that their singer is approaching.
You put down the book you never even started and hop down from the window sill you had been sitting on for most of the afternoon, waiting for him to knock softly at the door like he always did, letting you prepare for his arrival or deny his company if you so wished. Anticipation was buzzing at your skin the longer you waited so you opened the door for him as soon as his knuckles met the dark wood, catching him off guard with his hand raised.
You can't help but smile at his wide eyes. Surprising the feared Spymaster of the Night Court has to be a hard feat to accomplish and the fact that you just did it so effortlessly makes you revel in his expression for a moment. He offers you a small smile of his own but you can immediately tell something is holding him back.
He hasn't really given you any information about their research or the guild, simply letting you know that they were working as hard as they could on it. You knew the High Lord still had his reservations about your presence in his court so it only made sense for them to keep their cards close to their chest until they knew more about the situation. You suppose he also wanted to see if any of the leads you gave Azriel on the guild actually turned out to be helpful, a last test to see if you were being truthful.
So you wouldn't be surprised that the Inner Circle had a meeting among themselves before bringing you in, one it seems like Azriel just came from, but his expression is making your anticipation steadily turn into nerves.
“Are you ready?”
Even with the lump that has lodged itself in your throat, you nod and try to give him a pleasant smile. You've been waiting for answers and you're finally going to get them, even if it feels like your heart is threatening to give out.
You quickly turn back into the room to slip on your shoes, before looping your arm around the one he offers, ever the gentlemale. He guides you through the painting covered hallways, most of which you haven't walked through before.
As you approach the room your nerves get the best of you. There are a lot more people in the office than you thought there'd be, you can hear their mismatched heartbeats from here, feel their suffocating presences. One you can distinctively recognize is the General's, it reminds you of his reaction in the dining room, how it seemed to hurt him just looking at you.
You didn't think the entire Inner Circle would be in attendance, figured that it would only be the ancient one, the High Lord and Lady aside from you and Azriel. You'll likely have to reveal more about yourself than you'd be comfortable with in any other situation, including things you're not proud of, things you know they'll judge you for, they'll judge the female they once knew for.
Azriel noticed your body tensing, your steps getting slower and the apprehension rolling off you in waves as your thoughts soured. He stopped in his tracks and looked over his shoulder, meeting your unfocused eyes.
Seeing the worried look on his face makes you take a deeper breath, willing your mind to focus on what's important right now and let your fears stay locked inside you. Thinking of it as another mission the guild sent you on, you've put your life on the line numerous times, you can get through a simple meeting.
You feel a familiar mask of indifference fall onto your face, the mask of a killer the guild made sure you wore almost every day of your life, but before you can rid your mind of emotion, Azriel grabs onto your hand, intertwining your fingers together, and bringing it up to his lips. He leaves a soft kiss on your skin, one that sends chills down your spine, though it's the look in his eyes that makes you stop.
You're not alone. For the first time in your life, at least in the life you remember, you're not alone. He's going to be next to you for every step of the way. You don't need to resort to assassin tactics. The blank mask was something you didn't have a choice but to use, to protect yourself from the things you'd seen, from the things you feel. But here you're allowed to delve into your emotions, to stay true to them.
Azriel gives you a small smile and lowers your hand away from his lips, proud of whatever determination showed on your face. He lets go of you, making you feel the absence of his warmth immediately, fingers twitching as if trying to reach out to his comfort on their own.
As soon as you walk into the room all eyes turn to you. You had been right to assume everyone was here. You let your eyes wander around the room briefly, noting the familiar and new faces, before settling back on Rhysand's, the reminder of the excruciating pain you've felt the last time you saw him an obvious weight on your mind.
You'd seen them all before except for the blonde sitting on the sofa by the window, her brown eyes were wide, as if she couldn't believe what she was seeing. You know that was Morrigan, the High Lord's cousin, and from what Azriel has told you, one of your once closest friends. Apparently she'd tried to come talk to you but it so happened to be on the day after you went down for breakfast and you denied it without a second thought when Azriel brough the option up. You wonder if that had been too harsh but you weren't sure you could handle a repeat of the Cassian situation.
Feyre and Morrigan are the only ones who attempt to throw a greeting smile your way but you can't bring yourself to respond, acutely aware of the tension in the air, eyes never straying from the High Lord's. Choosing to focus on the elephant in the room.
“I trust your stay has been enjoyable,” Rhysand muses as he points to the chair across from his desk, urging you to sit as if this were a simple business meeting. As ridiculous as the idea sounds, it does something to loosen your muscles and the snort that escapes Cassian lifts some of the tension.
“Yes, the House has been making sure of it,” you sit on the chair across from his desk, not daring to look away from him and the High Lady. He releases a simple hum at the answer, but you're too anxious for small talk. “Have you found a way to get my memories back?”
“In a way,” he offers, leaving you with more questions.
Thankfully, Amren fills up the silence in his place. “The spell suppressing your memories is the work of witches. Daemati can enter anyone's mind and make them forget certain memories but if someone had simply rewritten your memories then Rhys would have been able to fix them.”
“Witches?” The thought was enough to send shivers down your spine.
“Witches use tools to strengthen their powers, to access magic they aren't privy to,” she continues, “It seems someone used a witch's tool to feign daemati powers and rewrite your memories, effectively warding them as well.”
“That's why you had such a strong reaction when I entered your mind.”
You were positive this had to be the work of a daemati. It had never crossed your mind that there could be something else at play.
“You can't undo the spell,” you conclude for them.
Witches have a completely different approach to magic than faeries. While your kind was gifted their magic by the Mother, witches have to resort to the kind of tools Amren mentioned. The resulting magic isn't organic and as such it comes with rules and drawbacks you don't experience as fae.
“We'll need to find the person responsible for it. They're the only one who can tell us exactly how to undo it,” Feyre says.
You bite your lip, your mind reeling with the information. You only have one suspect and the thought of not only finding him but also making him talk sounds beyond ridiculous. He also hasn't shown any hint that he could use witch magic. As far as you know he's as much high fae as you are, but you can never be too certain when it comes to one the best assassins in the world.
“Azriel says you can only identify one member of the guild,” the High Lord continues, barely giving you any time to process.
You nod. “I had direct contact with a few other assassins when I was called for backup but never knew their names or even what some of them look like without disguises.”
“Our only option is finding your handler, but Azriel hasn't been able to find any tracks even with the information you've given him,” Feyre stands closer to the desk now, her hand leaning on the dark wood.
“I'm not surprised. Norris is one of the most prominent members of the guild, I'm not sure how old he is exactly but I suspect he's been working there for close to a millenia.”
“Azriel is extremely good at his job,” Rhysand tilts his head slightly, as if offended for his Spymaster.
“I know.” From the briefings he's given you, he has spies all over the world aside from his shadows, who can listen and see things fae could never begin to imagine. Even with your hints, he's come closer to the guild in a week than entire countries have in decades, perhaps even centuries. “But we've been trained to kill and hide from people like him, like you. And Norris has been doing that successfully for a very long time.”
“We…” He taps his nails on the table, the sound echoing across the room. “So you're an assassin then,” the distaste clear on the High Lord's face.
You hadn't said the words out loud but everyone had probably guessed it the moment you walked back into their lives. The guild has made a name for themselves, and as much as some of your work consisted of spying or retrieving objects, most people came to the guild for mercenary jobs.
“Yes,” you confirm, forcing yourself to keep up the eye contact.
“An interesting career choice,” he muses, as if you had the pleasure of just choosing to become this monster.
The several pairs of eyes watching you intently were making you feel defensive, your temper rising up with it. It's easy to judge someone looking in from the outside. You'd been an assassin or training to become one ever since you could remember, which in reality wasn't your whole life like you thought before. Still, whether it was because you'd been taken in by the guild as a child or had your memories rewritten, you were thrown into it against your will and had since been stuck with no chance of an escape. Everyone has done things they're not proud of and you know fae in such important positions as these and as old as they are can definitely relate to this sentiment.
You weren't proud of it, far from it, but you didn't have a choice. And it's not your fault the female they knew before wouldn't do these things. It's not your fault that innocence and chance at being better she had were ripped away from you.
“Not everyone has the luxury of getting a court handed to them,” the venom drips out of your tongue, every word meant as a weapon.
You know this is a low blow, being aware of the circumstances in which Rhysand became High Lord, how he lost his whole family in one night. But if he wants cruelty, the assassin he keeps judging, you can certainly give it to them. Your bravado lessens when you feel the sharp intake of breaths around the room, most notably from the Illyrian by your side, where he still stands despite how tense his posture has become.
Rhysand's wings tighten against his body and his eyes narrow, finally letting go of the faux relaxed look he's presented you with. He takes a moment to answer you, likely leveling his temper or receiving soothing words from his mate.
“There was a time you wouldn't even dare to hurt an innocent.” This statement lacks the same bite as before, it gives way to disappointment, and it feels like a bucket of ice poured over molting lava. It cuts deeper than any amount of judgment he could have presented you with.
You straighten yourself in the chair, trying to not let it show how much this whole conversation is affecting you. “Well,” you lick your lip, now realizing how dry your mouth felt, “The only thing left from before is my body.”
His violet gaze finally becomes too much for you to bear, allowing yourself the respite of looking down at your hands. There are too many emotions swirling in his alluring eyes, even more felt around the room, the tension has become so thick you could barely breathe, couldn't even risk a look at Azriel in fear of what you'd find written on his face, terrified that the same disappointment lingered there as well.
“It's not,” the change in tone has you looking back up at him, meeting his gaze once more to find understanding reflected on it. And I can only imagine how you've been surviving through it all.
His echoing words make you pause, not being able to look away from him. It's only when wetness gathers in your eyes that you look back down, praying the room of perceptive fae don't notice how close you are to tears. You don't even remember the last time you cried, the last time someone extended you the kindness Rhysand just did, even after all the judgment.
Shadows start crawling up your legs, tentatively moving towards you as if asking permission to comfort you. You bite back a smile, keeping your tears at bay as you wonder if they moved of their own accord or if Azriel sent them to you. You relax your body, allowing them to twist and turn over your legs, mildly surprised that you can actually feel a ghost of a touch. You didn't think you could feel shadows.
You risk a glance at the shadowsinger in question, almost regretting it as you see the fondness reflected in his beautiful eyes as he watches his own shadows move across your skin. This must have been a regular occurrence before. You look away as soon as your gazes meet, not being able to bear the intensity in them in this room full of onlookers.
Unfortunately, your escape brings you back to facing the High Lord and Lady, who seem more than amused at your interaction with Azriel. The change in atmosphere from just a few moments ago almost gives you whiplash.
“You haven't told me what you plan on doing about the guild,” you try to keep your tone leveled, but looking at their reactions you're failing miserably.
“Finding your handler seems to be our best bet,” the smile on Feyre's face only falters a bit, the tension from before has almost dissipated. “Since he's the one who sent you here he might know who hired the guild and their motives for wanting the book.”
“You said he was the one who introduced you into the guild.” You nod at Rhysand. “It's possible he's the one responsible for your… accident.”
“I think so too,” you agreed, your hand moving up to touch the scar on your neck, “I've always been told this scar was the result of a failed mission, and that Norris had been the one to find me and take me to a healer.”
“We found the attackers not long after your death,” the general finally speaks up, cringing softly at the choice of word. His mate was quick to narrow her eyes at him, as if reprimanding him for mentioning it.
“He might not have actually cut my throat,” you shrug, trying not to linger in unpleasant thoughts. “He likely saw me after the attack and decided I'd make a good addition to the guild if I survived. I'm basically a ghost, that's perfect for an agent. I wouldn't be surprised if they'd done similar things before.”
“Either way, we need to find him.”
“Even if we do, I'm not sure he'll actually tell you anything.” Norris was one of the most respected members of the guild. His abilities far surpassed yours, he'd been the one to teach you most things after all. You've never been able to even sneak up on him so finding and capturing him alive already seemed hard enough, but making him cooperate and answer any of your questions was next to impossible. The Mother only knows how many fae have tried it and failed.
“He will,” Azriel stated. When you look into his eyes you can only see pure fury and determination written in them, leaving no space for any doubts. He stares into your eyes before adding, promising, “l'll make sure of it.”
Some of that confidence rubs off on you it seems, because your hesitation starts evaporating the longer you stare into his eyes. You've always been on your own, and as such you've only ever considered how you'd fare against your handler without backup. Between the famed Shadowsinger, the strongest High Lord in history, the Made Sisters, and everyone else in this room, your chances were exponentially higher. Escaping the guild doesn't feel like a pipe dream anymore.
“How do you want to find him?”
The High Lord rewards your determination with a smirk. “The only way to find someone like him is by making him search for us instead.”
“You want to use me as bait,”
“You can refuse,” Azriel assured. This explains his sour mood. You didn't think he'd agreed with this solution with the way he's been treating you so carefully, almost as if you're made of glass. You can't exactly fault him for it either, but the truth is you can't refuse. You don't know if you could ever find Norris with traditional tactics, or if the guild wouldn't send more assassins to the city, if they hadn't already.
“And keep living like this? Hiding without even knowing who I am?”
He searches your eyes, fear and vulnerability swimming in the hazel, but nods all the same. He told you he's dreamed of getting you back for a century, and thought it was something that would never come true, so it makes sense that he'd be hesitant on letting you put yourself in such a risky position. You know he understands why you need this though.
The meeting runs for a while longer, and by the time Rhysand was calling it a day the sun was already setting on the horizon, making way for the night to take over in all its glory, one that could only be fully appreciated in the Night Court.
As much as everyone seems to be warming up to you, letting go of the conflicted feelings towards having you back in these circumstances, you were extremely overwhelmed by the end. Talking to someone who knows you so intimately even though you don't have any recollection of it is a confusing experience. You could almost hear your mind screaming at you, begging for some peace and quiet.
The contrast between the Inner Circle and Azriel becomes clear in your mind. Your relationships were very different before but it's interesting to see that even when you don't have your memories, you feel so much calmer with him. That nagging feeling of being faced with something you've lost keeps rising up when they speak to you, but it doesn't come anywhere close to the myriad of emotions Azriel evokes simply by looking at you. And even if those emotions are more intense, you have a much bigger tolerance for them, as if your body would gladly accept any turmoil as long as you stayed in his company.
Just as you were about to leave the room, Rhysand invites you to join them for dinner. Everyone turns to you with expectant eyes before the words fully leave his mouth. They clearly planned it out together. This habit they have of speaking through each other's minds is one it might take a while getting used to.
You bite your lip, as you think of what to say. Cassian and Morrigan look particularly keen on the idea, it makes you feel a little relieved that the general isn't looking at you like a nightmare came true anymore, but you really don't think you can handle any more questions today, or to have them reminisce about your former relationships. You're not used to spending time with a lot of people in general, you'd go months without any sort of fae contact sometimes. You just want to go somewhere quiet, and you can only think of one person whose company would allow you to relax.
Making up your mind, you decline the invitation politely, trying to ignore the disappointment in their eyes as they bid you goodnight. This still feels like a huge improvement from where you stood with them just at the beginning of the meeting, that they'd want to keep you company when it felt like they were avoiding you this whole week. You might have gained some of their trust, and, to your immense shock, you trust them as well. It feels like a breath of fresh air after a century of not even trusting your shadow.
Maybe it's that feeling, or the immediate quiet that settles over you as soon as you walk into the empty hallway, maybe even the fact that you finally got some answers and even a plan, a chance at leaving the guild, something you never even dared to dream about, but it has you feeling a little indulgent. Your steps are noticeably lighter, and all the tension from before is now only a faint ache in your muscles.
“Azriel?” You look up at him with a smile, feeling it widen when he looks at you in answer. “Since I'm out of the room, can we go somewhere to watch the stars?”
The smile that takes over his face is blinding, it feels like it could rival the moon. It's fascinating how his beauty can still catch you off guard like this, even if you've been spending most of your time with him for an entire week.
“Of course,” he moves closer to you and takes your hand, pulling you into him, his eyes never straying from yours. It takes you longer than it should have to realize he was covering you both in shadows, too lost in his eyes to pay attention to your surroundings, how they've turned to black. He told you before that's how he winnows, though it can't be called that since he moves through shadows instead.
The light almost blinds you as his shadows disperse, giving way to a view you can't believe is real. The sky wasn't completely dark yet, stuck in the brief moments of twilight where you could still see the last rays of the sun illuminating the dark blue sky. And yet the stars were already twinkling in the sky, surrounding the full moon.
You can't help but gasp, forgetting about Azriel and moving to the edge of the roof, admiring the unforgettable view. Your eyes don't stray from it as you lean against the railing, long enough that the sun completely sets, and the streets become illuminated by faelights.
You had thought there was some sort of celebration when you first came here, but have since learned that every night is enjoyed to its fullest in the city of dreamers.
As some of your awe settles, you turn to look at Azriel as he too admires the city. His shadows had left him uncovered, choosing to scatter around what you now recognize as a training ground. You almost regret staring up at the sky for so long when you could have been reveling in his beauty this whole time.
His tan skin was glowing with the pale moonlight, eyes as bright as the stars when he looks down at you. You move closer to him almost unconsciously, as if you've been bewitched.
“Thank you for bringing me here,” you sound breathless even to your ears. “The view is a lot more beautiful from up here.” Your bedroom window could never do this justice. If you looked up, it almost felt like you were walking on air, among the stars.
He turns to you fully, ignoring the captivating sight in favor of watching you. His face relaxes further as he takes you in, the smile on his lips growing and the air around you changing. He raises his scarred palm up to cup your face, whispering softly, “It can't ever compare to you.”
“That's cheesy,” you stutter, clearly taken aback by the sudden flirtatious tone.
He grins down at you, a mischievous look in his eyes, rubbing his thumb over the increasingly warmer skin of your cheek. “You're blushing.”
Azriel has been open with his feelings for you all week, making it clear that they haven't changed over the years, even with your absence from his life, but he has never been this brazen. None of the interactions you've had can be considered anything else than platonic, and even with sweet compliments and bashful admissions, he has never looked at you like this, like he truly believed just one second of looking at you was worth more than this unbelievable view.
“You know,” you start hesitantly, “We haven't actually tried everything.”
He furrowed his eyebrows, trying to catch up to your train of thought. You can feel when he does because he tenses against you, and would have let go of your face if you hadn't placed your hand around his wrist, keeping him there.
“I think I've read it in a story before,” you lick your lips, feeling like lava is pumping through your veins when his eyes follow the movement, “Sometimes a kiss can be stronger than any magic spell.”
He leans closer to you slowly, looking into your eyes to search for any sign of discomfort. You can't be entirely sure what he finds in them, you can't feel much else but desire in this moment, but it has him clearing the rest of the way, both of your eyes closing as his lips finally touch yours softly.
A sigh escapes him when you press into him harder, needing to find out what he tastes like, what he feels like. His other hand comes up to cup your other cheek, holding you against him. You can feel him losing his restraint bit by bit, hands moving from your face to hold your neck, your waist, grip getting tighter with every stroke of his tongue against yours, a century of longing and raw passion melting into the kiss. Your own arms find their way around his neck, pulling him down, finally feeling the softness of his hair around your fingers. His chest is pressed against yours, close enough that you can feel his heart beating.
When you finally pull away from each other, you're both breathless. He leans his forehead against yours, eyes closed. You wonder how many times he's dreamed of this moment, of being able to taste you again after so long.
“Any memories resurfacing?” His voice is rough, deeper than you've ever heard it. It almost makes you hold back a moan.
“No,” you lick your lips, reveling in his taste, “but we can give it another try.”
His lips find yours as soon as the last words leave your mouth, more than happy to deliver. You might chastise yourself for giving in to temptation tomorrow, but in this moment nothing else matters. Not the guild, not your lost memories, not your mistakes. Right now there's only him, you and the stars as your witnesses.
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#azriel x reader#azriel x y/n#azriel x you#azriel angst#azriel fic#azriel shadowsinger#azriel acotar#azriel fanfiction#acotar#acotar fanfiction#acotar x reader#acotar x you#divider by saradika
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