#finally going back in to fix 2 things i was meaning to get to...

[gyunify]

baby saja.ᐟ ── oneshot. › edge of breaking❞

ONESHOT: baby saja x fem!reader

WARNINGS: angst, cold treatment, emotional withdrawal, fear of abandonment, slow burn ── read responsibly.

You didn’t mean to go to sleep without fixing it.

But he didn’t follow you into the room.

And you couldn’t bring yourself to beg.

So now it’s 2:47 AM, and you’re lying in the dark, staring at the ceiling, one side of the bed cold.

His side.

You hear the creak of the couch. The faint hum of a power ward flickering near the front door.

He's still out there.

Still choosing silence.

Still punishing you in the way only he can — not through anger, not through raised voices, but through this unbearable absence.

Because Baby Saja doesn’t yell.

He withdraws.

He folds in on himself.

He lets the quiet answer for him, and right now it’s answering louder than any scream.

Earlier, you’d said something stupid.

Too sharp. Too real.

“Maybe if you let someone help you for once, you wouldn’t carry the whole damn world like it’s your penance.”

He flinched.

But he didn’t argue.

He just stared at you like you were a stranger.

And walked away.

Now, your pillow’s wet with tears that came out quiet.

The kind you didn't sob. The kind that sat in your chest until they had no choice but to spill over.

You almost whisper his name.

But you don’t.

Because you know if he wanted to come to you, he would’ve.

He always does — except tonight.

And it’s not until just before sunrise, when your eyes are burning and sleep still won’t come, that the bedroom door finally creaks open.

You stay still.

He pauses in the doorway.

Then—

The sound of his jacket hitting the chair.

The low exhale, the soft rub of palms across his tired face.

The demon mark on his skin faintly crackling as he forces it to dim.

And finally, the mattress dips behind you.

His body doesn’t touch yours.

But you feel his presence. Barely. A breath away.

Then you hear it. So soft you almost don’t believe it’s real:

“I hate this.”

Your breath catches.

He knows, no. He feels that you’re awake.

“I hate fighting with you,” he says again, voice hoarse. “Because I already hate everything else. The demons. The crowds. The pretending. But not you. Never you.”

You turn toward him slowly, throat tight. His face is half-shadowed. His jaw is clenched. He won’t look at you.

But his hand is gripping the edge of the blanket like if he lets go, he might fall into something he can’t climb back out of.

“I’m scared I’m too much,” he says. “That you’ll get tired of carrying me.”

You can’t breathe.

“Baby,” you whisper.

But he shakes his head, voice cracking now.

“Because I don’t know how to love in halves. I don’t know how to not cling to you. You make everything quiet in my head. When I’m with you, I don’t hear him. And when you’re mad at me, it’s like the noise comes back tenfold.”

He finally looks at you. Eyes shining. Red-rimmed.

Broken open in a way you’ve never seen him before.

“You’re the only thing that makes me feel human.”

You reach for his hand — and this time, he lets you take it.

But he still doesn’t move closer.

He lies there, inches away, like someone afraid of cracking glass. And maybe you are.

Maybe you both are.

And maybe tomorrow, he’ll wrap his arms around you again.

But tonight, you sleep with the space between you heavy and sacred, carrying all the things you couldn’t say.

» written by; gyu.ᐟ ✦

[manicandobsessive]

Icarian | L.H.

Interlude: Damage Gets Done

Read the series!

>Icarian masterlist

A/N: Hi! This is just a brief little drabble about the time you and Logan spent in between Ch. 1 & 2. Heard the song at work and totally was inspired. I can’t wait to get back into this story! Ch. 3 coming soon!

Warnings: None. Fluff and more fluff. Swearing, ish. Not proofread literally just wrote this.

You and Logan had been around each other significantly more than you had been with anyone else. Your simple admiration and respect for each other visible to even the blindest person. You both had felt this invisible tether to one another. A string connecting your soul to his, on the deepest of levels.

You felt like a kid around him. And for Logan- well he felt younger than 206 for once in this life. His bones didn’t ache, his head didn’t throb with the dull cries of his past, his heart wasn’t in pieces guarded by brick walls. He felt at peace. Like he could be himself without apologizing.

He didn’t have walls up around you, it didn’t feel like an option. It felt like the easy- and only answer- was to let you in. As much as a man like him could. That’s how you opened up to him as well. Within a week, you knew every quirk about one another. Simply based off the fact that you gravitated towards each other like nothing else.

Logan used to think Jean was the one person who understood him.

Oh how wrong he was.

He could finally distinguish the difference between infatuation and real true feelings. He didn’t exactly know what those feelings were, but the bottom line is that they were real.

Something this real, this rare. Something as precious as you, there was not a shot in hell he was letting that go.

And a man as thoughtful and mature as Logan, you weren’t letting go of that either.

“Nice outfit.” You snorted, the quick once over being more than enough to perceive the outfit Logan sports almost every day.

No way he doesn’t have scheduled outfits for days of the week at this rate.

“Alright fashion police, you wanna go for a ride or not?” He leans back, looking over you in the same way. Except, maybe with more of a hunger in his eyes. One you chose to carefully ignore.

You smiled regardless, maybe the teasing was a little much for two people who’d known each other for two weeks. But in yours and Logan’s eyes it had felt like years.

You trailed behind him, a newfound pep in your step, to say the least. Logan had brought a new purpose to your everyday routine. An exciting adventure everyday, whether it be talking in the gardens or watching him fix up his motorcycle.

Which inevitably led to the moment you were currently in. Watching as he mounts his bike and looks at you with an expectant smirk.

You stand with your arms crossed. “Stubborn as ever.” He remarks, which only makes you scoff.

“No helmet?” You ask, tilting your head. He leans over the other side of the bike, tossing it at you.

“Was gettin’ there.” He replies with a teasing smile. To which you roll your eyes.

“Bullshit.” You murmur, looking over the helmet. And- quite literally- blowing dust off of it.

“Seriously? When’s the last time you used this thing?” You ask, a hint of concern in your voice that doesn’t go unnoticed by him.

He shrugs, “Don’t need it,”

You huff, shaking your head but sparing him the ‘just because you have a healing factor doesn’t mean you should be reckless’ speech in an effort to be less like his mom and more his… friend.

Or something.

“Gonna mess up my hair.” You huff under your breath, irritated. The low rumble of Logan’s chuckle doesn’t pass by you, only making you glance up at him from where you're standing.

“Darlin’, ya couldn’t look bad if ya tried your damndest.” He says in earnest, making your stomach do that little flip it only seems to do when he’s around.

You only huff again and roll your eyes, putting on the helmet and mounting the bike behind him.

Unsure of where to put your arms you sit with them by your side. That is until of course he turns around and laughs again. Which only makes you furrow your eyebrows in confusion.

“You’re gonna have to hold on somehow, sweetheart.” He says, his tone gentle but teasing nonetheless. He could hear the pickup of your heartbeat, assuming you were nervous about his driving and being on a bike for the first time.

He had no idea it was also because of the intoxicating proximity of his presence.

You slowly snake your arms around his solid waist. Feeling his muscles tense under your touch. The heat of his body against yours made you feel at home and also in a completely new place, simultaneously.

You anxiously awaited for him to press the gas pedal and go, but it seemed as time went on he was simply messing with you. Trying to scare you.

Fed up, you spoke out.

“Logan, if you don’t fucking-“

And there it was. He left that garage as maximum speed. Weaving through cars, running yellow lights, going 70 over the speed limit as often as possible. How you were still alive was beyond your comprehension.

It was not a shock at all seeing that Logan drove like a madman.

When you made it to your destination, he turned to you with a wide smile. You took the helmet off as quick as you could.

“What the fuck was that?” You almost yell, shoving the helmet into his hands.

You wanted to slap that shit eating grin off his face, but he wouldn’t stop.

“‘S called livin’ sweetheart, get used to it.” He retorts, making you scoff and walk away. Him following behind you like a puppy despite his incessant teasing.

“C’mon, it wasn’t that bad.”

You shoot him a glare as you open the door to the diner you’d stopped by.

As you sat down, you finally had cooled off. The humor of the situation hitting. You glance at Logan who’s already looking at you. Way more serious than before.

He reaches out, brushing his hand over your knuckles. The graze of his fingertips igniting a fire in you.

“Was bein’ more careful, havin’ you with me and everything.” He admits softly, making you raise an eyebrow.

You laugh a little, smiling as you shake your head.

“You and I have very different definitions of careful then.” You reply lightheartedly, easing the weight in his chest.

He can handle seeing you mad at someone, he secretly thinks it’s one of the hottest things you could do. But he can’t handle you being upset at him. Even for a little bit. A silent promise he made to himself when you’d given him some insight into your former life. He’d never hurt you intentionally.

Post dinner, that you made him pay for. (Which he would’ve done regardless). You head back to the bike. Making him promise to try to go under 100 MPH on the way home. He grumbles but eventually complies.

Mounting the bike again, he makes sure you’re ready- helmet on and holding tight before he roars it to life.

Except there’s no roar.

The bike had run out of gas, his worst nightmare come to life.

He freezes, unwilling to tell you. You remove the helmet and lean over. Your chin now resting on his shoulder. Something to consider later on.

However, he had bigger matters to attend to.

“Uh- darlin’. We’re out of gas.”

He admits, almost flushing red with embarrassment.

But then, you laugh. A sweet sound he’ll cherish for the rest of his days. A real, hearty, good laugh. He swore he’d never seen something so angelic.

“What?” He asks, regaining his voice.

“You- just-.” You breathe out. “You mean to tell me we only had enough to get here?”

“Well.. yeah.” He replies, making you bury your face in his shoulder as you laugh again.

“Lo,” You shake your head.

He tenses, a nickname?

He’s only allowed to do that for you. He never thought it was a two way street. But somehow he doesn’t mind it at all.

“I’ll call Scott.”

He groans and rolls his eyes but doesn’t say anything. After all, he’s the one who fucked up anyways. He deserves the humiliation.

~

Little things like that is what had gotten you both so close in the short period of time you’d spent together thus far.

Close enough for you to be caught wearing his clothes, close enough to watch movies and fall asleep on each other. Close enough that the people surrounding you silently accepted that this was the way it was.

You think back on your days as a teenager, as a child, even more recently. All you needed was someone. One person, to make you feel cared for.

One person to see you were more than what you could give. What they could gain from you.

You finally found them, that one.

After all, you never did get to have a reckless era of your life. Having to always be careful and cautious. Always thinking ten steps ahead.

Logan took that weight off your shoulders and placed it upon his own without question.

Needless to say you had an unwavering devotion to him. One that would be your downfall if you didn’t confront it soon enough.

[lucabyte]

im so goddamn sorry to the 2 people who cared abt my ocs prior to recently lol. telling me ive been neglectful for this long is so rude.......

[sevsgiirl]

Omg okay I can't stop thinking about needy lovesick Sevika with a younger femme partner (you can totally do a continuation of the fic you wrote) so what if, she's a little needy&insecure for their age gap? That her girl gets bored/annoyed with her? (She doesn't have this type of thoughts all the time, but the seeds of doubts grows when she hears other people talk, not directly about her and reader, but in general but it does linger when others points out how different they are) or in her own way, she start craving more compliments, affections from her but dunno how to do it and at the same time she's trying to gauce if her girl still likes her (she does!!) yet just the thoughts/doubts hurts Sevika like so bad, because she would do anything for her darling, what she has to do to make her girl still love her and not leave her?

— sevika with a younger partner and feeling insecure

synopsis: sevika doesn’t have a type. whether they’re older or younger, just as long as they could keep up with her that’s all mattered. but ever since you two started dating, she starts to wonder if she’s the one who could keep up with you and how deep down, it scares her that you might find a problem with it eventually.

note: I just had to post this before going to sleep because the idea is too good. I love the way your brain works and again, thank you for sending in the req <3 love you and I hope you like this.

you were a beacon of light in the cesspool of chaos that is sevika’s life.

to this day, she still doesn’t understand how you and her got into a relationship but here you are now, going strong for almost a year and you wouldn’t have it any other way.

you two rarely get into arguments, when you did she never hesitates to reach out and fix the situation right away because she can’t stand being on bad terms with you for long.

you two are on the same mental wavelength, which sevika appreciates given how you’re a lot younger than her. she’s in her 40s and you were in 20s, but sometimes she forgets because conversations always run smoothly between you two.

but just because she forgets that doesn’t mean other people fail to bring it up.

when you started dating, it was a bit difficult given how it wasn’t received well by a lot of her peers. not that they judged her for it because they could never unless they wanted to have their face busted in. but it was the occasional remarks that had a hint of judgement in them that made sevika uncomfortable.

things such as “she’s a bit young, isn’t she? you better keep an eye on her especially because you’re always at work. it’s hard being in a relationship with someone who’s at a different stage in life as you.”

both of you had jobs but her work compared to yours was hectic. you work as a waitress at jericho’s meanwhile sevika is paid to get her hands dirty for silco. the job was tedious and draining and sometimes she comes home, tired to the bone that she could barely catch up with you. which she feels immensely guilty for.

you’ve reassured her that it isn’t a big deal and that you understand her status in zaun is far more important than yours. you’ve always acknowledged sevika’s role in the under city and why she was feared by many, that’s what attracted you to her in the first place. she was loyal, devoted and her endurance was insane.

but still, despite how sevika’s job is her number one priority, it still doesn’t slip her mind that she may accidentally neglect you and your needs without her knowing.

and she knows it takes a toll on you too, you just don’t want to bring it up because you respect her too much. and she was right because when she came home early one night you weren’t there, and it was almost midnight when you finally returned and you were shocked to see sevika sitting on your couch waiting for you. usually she’d be back around 2-3am.

“hey, you didn’t tell me silco would let you off the hook early,” you said but your words became background noise because she was too focused on your appearance. you were dressed up and from where she sat she could tell you’ve had a lot to drink.

it’s not that it upset sevika you went out, you could do whatever you want but it saddens her that you didn’t even go out of your way to tell her about it assuming she’d be coming home late. is this what you do when she’s not here? go out with your friends and have fun? it’s not that she expects you to wait for her in your apartment all day while she’s away for work.

still, the thought bothers her as she wonders what you must’ve been up to while she was gone. she tries to set the thought aside, not wanting to think bad of you because she knows you’d never go against her back. but certain thoughts crept up at the back of her mind. did you meet someone while you were out? were you offered drinks? did someone invite you out to dance?

“sev, baby, you there?” she didn’t even realize she zoned out until she felt you cupping her cheek “are you tired? you shouldn’t have stayed up for me.”

she shook her head “it’s alright. but yeah, silco let me off early and I wanted to surprise you.”

your shoulders sagged “I’m sorry. I assumed you’d come home late again so I decided to just go out with friends. had I known I would’ve waited so we can stay in and cuddle.”

despite your flattery words, the only thing that stuck to sevika was you implying she’d be late again. you didn’t mean it maliciously, there was no bitterness in your tone but instead there was just… acceptance. which frustrated her because people were right.

perhaps being at different stages in life does this. you needed a partner who you can home to and have fun with but instead you got her who’s always late, is already asleep when you probably want to stay up and have sex at night. she would force herself to push through just for you but she isn’t getting any younger and it shows.

maybe it’s because others have planted it in her head that you two are just far too different that’s why she’s overthinking like this, but it’s becoming more and more evident that they were right and if she doesn’t find a way to fix this, god knows before you start seeing the cracks and the dents as well.

and so in the following day she asked silco if she could cut off her usual hours at work to get back home early. at least for a few weeks and silco was shocked for a second because if there was anyone who’s extremely dedicated to their job, it’s her.

but it’s because of that he deliberates on the request “very well,” he answered “but if the matters are urgent I expect you to come in either way,”

well, it’s better than nothing, sevika thought. what matters is she’ll try to find some time to spend the following weeks with you and to hopefully regain the spark in your relationship.

not that she’s saying it’s lost but she’s scared it will. because if her days don’t consist of work, she’s either at the bar playing cards to blow off some steam, which isn’t exactly a productive way of spending one’s time.

unlike you, you have tons of friends who you go out with at clubs and sevika just doesn’t want to think about all the people you meet there, who are probably the same age as you, and have wanted to ask you out but you turned them down because of her.

meanwhile, she’s here and she can’t even keep you happy like how you deserve.

it eats her up alive that’s why as soon as she comes back from work a lot earlier than usual, she immediately engulfs you in a back hug when she sees you cooking in the kitchen.

you gasped, not expecting her “sev, you’re home.” you were surprised as you turned around “did something happen?”

she shook her head, smiling “no sweetheart, silco just let me off early again. plus I’ve been meaning to spend more time with my girl…”

you still weren’t used to the disruption of the routine, because she’s normally away at these hours, but you weren’t complaining.

and with that, you spent most of the evening cooking and catching up with each other. you didn’t miss the way sevika followed you around the house like a lost puppy when you started cleaning up to get ready for bed.

you raised an eyebrow when she wrapped her arms around your waist while you were washing the dishes, noticing how she’s awfully more needy than usual.

“baby, go rest. you just got back home from work.” you giggled and she just shook her head.

“I just want to spend more time with you. I feel like I haven’t been the best partner.”

that halted you in your tracks and you angled your head so you can face her “baby, what makes you think that?” your eyebrows were furrowed and she just held you tighter.

she lets out a breath, tired and awfully nervous about vocalizing her doubts. what if once she points it out you start seeing the red flags too? and then these affectionate gestures just won’t be enough? what then?

“I know with my job and the responsibilities I have, I haven’t been able to fulfill your needs. you have so much ahead of you and I’m always at work and I just don’t want to make it seem like I’m wasting your time.” she said and you just stood there, letting her words sink in.

“you’re young and you could be with someone whose head isn’t always stuck in a bunch of paperwork or is running around the lanes doing silco’s dirty work.” her jaw clenched and she starts to wonder if admitting to all of this was a good idea.

“I’m sorry, princess. I just don’t want to bore you by leaving you here at home all by yourself…”

you immediately swiveled around in her arms and took her face in your hands.

“sev, look at me.” you said, your voice stern “I could give less than two fucks about people my age. you think when I got into a relationship with you I didn’t know what I was signing myself up for? of course I did and I don’t regret any of it. I know you have responsibilities and I accepted all of your duties the moment you became mine.”

“I could never be bored of you, baby.” you told her, thumb caressing her cheek “you don’t treat me any differently because of my age so why should I? I love it that you’re so hard at work and that you provide for me. the fact my salary at jericho’s isn’t even enough to pay half of our rent but you don’t mind because you provide for us both, why would I find that boring? that’s fucking sexy.”

she couldn’t help but let out a snort ���oh, so what you’re saying is that you’re staying with me because I’m basically your sugar mommy?”

you grinned “amongst other things,” you said before capturing her lips with your own.

the kiss was hot, heavy and slow as sevika gripped your hips and pulled you against her. pushing her knee up and sliding it across your thighs and she started rubbing against your clothed cunt, making you whimper.

“so you’re not bored of me? or mad?” she asked as she pulled away to look at you.

you rolled your eyes “you could be 23 or 75 for all I care and I still wouldn’t get bored of you.”

your finger drew circles around her chest as you fluttered your eyes up at her “plus you fuck me like you’re 23 anyway, so I don’t see why I would look for someone my age.”

she couldn’t help but laugh, swooping you up in her arms and you circled your legs around her waist as she walked you to your bedroom “god, you’re such a handful.” she said.

you smirked “but you love it.”

[maskedbyghost]

part 1 part 2

You don’t hear from him for two days. Not a text. Not a call. Not a single word. So you finally text him something short—coming by later to grab the rest of my stuff. You didn’t want to leave it like this, but you're not gonna be the one to chase him anymore. You gave him more chances than you should’ve, waited too long for a guy who couldn’t even tell you he wanted you to stay.

He doesn’t reply, but the front door’s unlocked when you get there.

You push it open, step inside, and the second you do, he’s there—leaning in the doorway between the kitchen and the hall, like he’s been waiting, like he knew you’d come at exactly that time. You pause, feeling weird about the way he's just standing there watching you, but you keep your eyes ahead and walk toward the bedroom.

And then the lock clicks, and you freeze.

“Did you just lock the door?”

Simon doesn’t even flinch. Just walks toward you slowly, like this is normal. “Yeah.”

“Why?”

“Because you’re not leaving.”

You blink at him, trying to figure out if he’s joking or if he’s actually lost it. “What the hell are you talking about?”

“You’re not leaving me.”

“Simon—”

“No,” he says, firmer this time, standing in front of you now. “I’m not letting you go. I fucked up. I know I did. I should’ve said something. I should’ve grabbed you when you were walking out. Should’ve told you how much it was killing me to watch you leave. But I didn’t. And I regret it. And I’m not gonna let you pack up your shit and pretend like we don’t mean anything.”

You roll your eyes, trying not to let your voice shake. “I’m just here to get my stuff.”

“No, you’re not,” he says, following you as you walk into the bedroom and grab the bag off the floor. “You’re here because you’re hoping I’ll say something to make you stay.”

You start throwing your things into the bag without looking at him. “Don’t flatter yourself.”

He walks over and calmly pulls your sweatshirt out of the bag and folds it before putting it right back in the drawer.

You stare at him. “What are you doing?”

“Putting it back.”

“Simon, I swear to god—”

He pulls out another shirt, smooths it, puts it back in the closet.

“Stop it!” you snap, trying to push past him to grab it again.

But he steps in front of you, puts his arms around you and holds you against his chest. “No. You’re not going anywhere. I can’t let you. I haven’t slept, haven’t eaten anything that wasn’t complete shit, and I’ve been sitting in this house trying to figure out how I let the one person who gave a fuck about me walk out. I know I ruined it. I know you don’t trust me anymore. But I’ll earn it back. I’ll do whatever you want. I’ll fix it. I swear.”

You struggle against him, not hard, but enough to make it clear you’re not just giving in. “Let go of me.”

He tightens his arms around you instead and presses a kiss to your cheek. Then another, and another, soft little ones, all over your face—your nose, your jaw, your forehead—mumbling between them like he’s afraid if he stops talking you’ll slip away again.

“I love you. I know I didn’t say it before but I do, and I’ve loved you for so fucking long and I didn’t know how to show it right, but I’ll learn. Just don’t go. Please. Ask anything from me, and I’ll do it. I’ll take time off, I’ll go to therapy, I’ll talk more, I’ll do the dishes without you asking. Just stay. I’ll give you everything. Just give me one more shot. Please, love. Please.”

You’re still half trapped in his arms, his voice right by your ear, and you try to stay mad, you really do. But the longer he holds you, the more ridiculous this whole scene feels, and the more you remember how badly you wanted him to fight for you, just once.

“Anything?” you ask, just to test it.

“Yeah. Anything. Just name it.”

You pull your head back a little, looking up at him. “You’ll let me get a cat?”

He blinks. “A cat?”

“You said no every time I brought it up.”

He groans a little but then lets out this small, helpless laugh and buries his face in your neck. “Fuckin’ hell. Yeah. Fine. Get a cat. Get two. I’ll buy it a bed nicer than mine, yeah?”

You try to hide your smile, but it slips through. “Even if it scratches your favorite chair?”

He looks up at you with a look of pure defeat. “Love, I’d let it scratch my face at this point. Just—don’t go, alright?”

You sigh, and it comes out more like a laugh, and he takes it as a win, because he pulls you in even tighter and doesn’t let go.

And this time, you don’t push him away.

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

can you forgive me now?

@daydreamerwoah @kylies-love-letter @ghostslollipop @kittygonap @alfiestreacle @identity2212 @farylfordaryl @rafaelacallinybbay @akkahelenaa @lovelovelovelovelove987654321 @wraith-bravo6 @tachiara @marispunk @gluttonybiscuits

[cashmoneyyysstuff]

midoriya being reader's and bakugou's biggest cheerleader, rooting for them since day one!?!?!?! 😭💖 he literally watched his 2 friends grow up and fall in love...he's so happy for them 🥹💗 like imagine the waterworks when they tell him they're (finally) in a relationship...if anyone believes in their love, it's midoriya!!!! 💓

the way things go !

synopsis : izuku knows, he always has, but he'll let you both figure it out.

an. this is literally so cute i love this !! tysm for the ask, this is pretty late tho so super sorries about this if youre still sticking around anon :(( but i hope you (and all yall) enjoy!!

cw. fluffy fluff ! childhood friends YAAAAAAH—middle school katsuki lol, childhood to like second year of ua timeskip, lmk if there's anything else !

if he thinks hard enough, izuku midoriya can remember the exact moment he realised his best friend had fallen in love with you.

you'd gone from being a new addition to their little friend group to you guys being so tight knit that people automatically associated you all together, if one was around—the other two were always expected nearby, a little trio.

sure, izuku never wanted anybody to feel left out, but you and kacchan were his best friends forever. you all had sleep overs at katsuki's house and went out for ice cream, visit for birthdays and stay up late to watch tv and tell scary stories under the covers. katsuki always pulled mean little pranks afterwards which would always scare the pants off of izuku, you always reassured him though, saying katsuki was being stupid. he thought that it was really cool how you never seemed to get scared until he noticed how you'd jump sometimes, but he found you even cooler.

you were best friends forever, shown by the cool woven bracelets you'd gotten for your friends when you came back from a beach vacation with your family. kacchan had complained the entire time you were gone, calling everything boring without you, but he never said a word about it when you got back and smacked izuku on the arm hard when he'd tried to tell you how much they'd both missed you.

izuku had managed to rip his gaze off his bracelet, woven with green and shades of blue that matched the sea to look up at his friend to ask how he felt about his gift. katsuki's had hints of orange, reds and vibrant pinks and he didn't complain about it even though he always said it was a girl colour. red eyes like his bracelet fixed onto his arm.

"look and yours kinda looks like it has flames on it, see ? like your explosions !" you explained excitedly, and izuku couldn't help getting excited too. your humour was always contagious. "oh yeah, i see it !" he agreed and you look over at him to nod in approval, obviously proud of your choice. and izuku realised then that the blonde still hadn't said one word.

you didn't seem to mind though, still too excited from your trip and izuku's reaction to his gift. you stuck your arm against katsuki's and grabbed izuku's so he could stick it to his, all your multicoloured bracelets coming together to form a mess of jumbled up colours "see, now we all match !" you exclaimed.

katsuki's cheeks were pink, stained and blotchy even through the worn out little bandaid stuck to his cheek. and all he could manage then was a nod, katsuki who you'd always call a big mouth was speechless and just nodded. izuku thought that was really weird

"i like it." he mumbled out quietly, obviously realising that you were now both awaiting an answer from him "we match," he repeated "but mines cooler." he finished off, crossing his arms and huffing to the sky proudly. and you burst out laughing, little giggles spill out and you break out into a laugh as you lean onto izuku. he can't help himself from laughing either. katsuki tries, really does, but he ends up laughing a bit too, nudging at your leg with his foot when you call him a big mouth.

and for the entire rest of the day, kacchan had found some excuse or other to drag you around and hold your hand, saying something about how you'd get lost since you were gone for so long, izuku thought that was weird too since you were only gone too weeks, but he quickly forgot about it. it was still hot when you got back, so you went for ice cream with money miss mitsuki had given you all to celebrate your return, and had gone to your (not so) secret spot by the river bank to laze around after your bellies were full.

the wind breezed through his clothes as izuku remembered the taste of his two scoops on his tongue, sighing and feeling himself getting sleepy. he hears you and kacchan talking.

he's talking about how your bracelet looks more like his, so you two match more. "that means you gotta stay with me forever so . . don't leave again." he mumbles, izuku hears the tugging and pulling of grass roots "was boring without you here." before he quickly catches himself with an "that's what izuku said." and the green haired boy answered with a sleepy "uhuh . . " that makes you giggle.

"i can ask my mom if you and izuku can come next time !" you chirp excitedly and you've always been contagious, so izuku responds again with a sleepy "yaaay . ." that makes you laugh.

when school started back up, katsuki had been quick to rip off his jacket and show off his bracelet to your friends, shown off by the short sleeved t-shirt he was wearing. always proud to answer the question of where'd gotten his cool new bracelet with a loud "yn got it for me from when she went on her trip, i bet she didn't get you anything !"

always proud and showing off was a kacchan that izuku knew all too well. but it was always about himself, never about others. and yet here he was showing off your gift to anybody who would listen because you were best friends. izuku thinks he truly realised, not then, but during lunch break when kacchan had pushed a boy to the ground because he'd made fun of his bracelet and called it girly.

"not true !" he'd yelled "you're just mad 'cus yn didn't get you nothin' and she likes me more then you. i bet you're just jealous 'cus she hates you, she told me you stink !"

and that's when he knew. because all three of you were always together and izuku had never ever heard you say that. but it seemed that to katsuki, being hated by you was the worst thing imaginable.

and that's when he knew.

and to him it was only natural for katsuki, one of the coolest people he knew, to have a crush on the other coolest person he knew. but when he'd asked kacchan about it after school, he'd punched him in the shoulder and told him "n-no ! shut up, quit talking stupid !" even as his cheeks turned beet red and he trudged off to go grab his backpack.

there was no doubt about it, you had a crush on each other.

izuku knows it, he knows you both know it. so why don't you do anything about it ?! it's sorta been driving him crazy.

he sees it all. sure, him and kacchan don't actually hang out anymore, but you and izuku still hang out and he sees them. the looks, the almost touches and the teasing and the shoulder nudges and—seriously, does nobody else see this ?!

but he'll keep quiet, he won't force you to do anything, he'll let you both take your time. but it seems the blond has been getting more and more impatient with himself.

"hey, nerd." izuku jumps despite himself at the rough voice from above him, looking up and quickly hiding his notebook from his ex-childhood friend.

"k-kacchan, hey ! didn't expect to see you here, heh . ." he trails off, eyes darting to the side. and izuku really hadn't expected to see him, kacchan wasn't the type to stay after class, always ready to walk you home when school was out. he feels his hands shaking and clenches onto his uniform pants. katsuki ignores the boy's attempt at friendly conversation, scoffing.

"what's your deal, huh ?" uh oh, izuku panics—what had he done ? he doesn't remember doing anything to anger him.

"i don't know what you're talking about, ka—"

a hand slams against his desk, startling the green haired boy and he almost jumps out of his skin.

"don't fuck with me ! y'know good and goddamn well what i'm talking about."

"but i—"

and then your name gets brought up "ya keep fuckin' staring at her all the time. what, you like her or something ?"

wait, what.

"huh ?"

"don't huh me," katsuki copies with a nasally voice "s'bad enough she wants to hang with you all the time, now you want more ?!"

oh, wait.

"just so you know, she doesn't like the nerdy type so you can go ahead and—" katsuki cuts himself off when he sees izuku smile, a smile he in his mind can only imagine as a smug one, so he scowls " quit makin' that creepy fuckin' face at me, weirdo ! i'll tell you right now—you haven't won and i damn sure won't lose ! never to a nerd like you, you got that ?!" he declared, before stomping out of the classroom.

izuku despite the obvious declaration of war he has no want to be part in, can't help but smile. "you've got nothing to worry about." he mutters to himself.

it'll be fine, he'll let you take your time—he has a feeling it won't be for much longer anyway.

"good morning, yn."

"hi, izuku."

you insist on not looking him in the eye when you speak, and izuku who's known you for years by now, immediately knew something was up.

you're here early, the common room is empty beside you and him right now "how'd you sleep ?" you ask, sipping on some juice. izuku hums, fixing his tie for class, you beckon him over and lean over to fix it for him which he thanks you for with an added shy chuckle.

and it's quiet.

izuku takes a spot next to you, "you know, you can talk to me about anything right ? i don't wanna assume but you look a bit bothered by something." your best friend smiles warmly at you when you make eye contact "i'm here if you need anything."

you squirm in your seat and then finally you spit your next sentence out at super speed "katsuki and i have liked each other for a while now and he asked me out and i said yes !"

"I KNEW IT!" the green haired's exclamation knocks you back and he flies up from his seat, he smiles down at you victoriously like he'd just defeated a villain.

"i knew you guys had been acting different, it was just too obvious ! always looking at each other for long periods of time—and sneaking off and standing so close to each other, it all makes sense !" and you're struck absolutely silent, he rambled and rambled on like he was taking notes for his hero notebook—seriously, how much did he know ?!

"w-wait but—you knew that we liked each other ?" you ask. izuku sits back down, even clears his throat after his little outburst, and smiles at you.

"oh yeah, i've known that for a while now !"

". . how long is a while ?"

". . a couple years."

"oh." you conclude. "i'm sorry i never told you, zuku . .s'just that i know that you and katsu's relationship was . . more than a bit strained so . ."

izuku immediately frown in shock "what, no it's not—you shouldn't have to apologise ! that was between kacchan and i so—" and he stops in his tracks "is that why it took you guys so long to . ."

now you're cutting him off "no, no that's not it ! i just never really had the courage to say anything !" you shyly rub at your glass "and honestly, i had no idea he even liked me like that . ."

surely you had to be messing with him. izuku sweatdrops at you without a word.

"well anyway, i'm glad you too are happy, truly." he utters sincerely. you smile back at him with a giggle and your humour's always been contagious, so he laughs along with you.

and when he sees you and kacchan walking to class holding hands he can't help but throw up a victorious fist up, leaving his friends a little bit confused.

(afterwards during training with katsuki, he wishes him a playful congratulations on winning, the blonde proceeding to punch his arm hard and izuku couldn't help but laugh. until katsuki chucked his water bottle at him.)

taglist ! :

@napbatata @andysdrafts @queenpiranhadon @jastoo46 @cecelia77

@katszumi @m-inluv @monchurie @the-hangry-otter @starlostlaiba

@moonshuul @erenstitanweave @katsus-mistress @dondeh-zedonutqueen @liluvtojineteyam

@aspiringwriter1111 @sugurusmoon @redvelvetstan1

@niktwazny303 @nemisimp @kit-katsukii @alphasage @milktea-academia

[krems-chair]

I'm always interested in analyses that portray a romanced Solas as a predatory hee hee trickster god manipulating a young and impressionable Lavellan into falling for him and if that's your world state go ahead and live your truth b/c it's frankly none of my business, but I sincerely think there are those who forget that for a lot of people, a romanced Lavellan is (with all due respect to my own Solasmancing Inquisitor Rielle Lavelllan) batshit crazy. Having her boyfriend turn out to be a wolf god is honestly the least of her problems but oh boy is she unafraid to become one to fix this mess.

This is a woman who woke up in a dungeon with a glowing hand, figured out she could fix the world, and thought "fuck it, it's not like I'll have anything else better to do if Corypheus sticks around. Also. Everyone here kind of looks like they want to kill me, so maybe I'll stick with the protective powers that be for a minute." And then all of five seconds later she gets her hand snatched by a sketchy elven apostate who knows exactly what to do with her shiny new powers and cannot stop himself from having a Mr. Darcy level hand-flex after he lets it go (in my heart and soul this happens just out of the camera's gaze) and goes "hmm maybe there's something to be said for this world saving thing."

This is a woman who brought an entire fucking avalanche down on herself and three of her closest friends (and I do mean closest as in physical proximity, she doesn't know these people who are looking at her like she's Thedas' Next Top Idol) because even if it killed her it was the proper middle finger to send to the wannabe god bringing his army tap-dancing down the mountain pass towards her on the one night she had scheduled off to celebrate finally taking a W.

This is a woman going Take 2 Electric Boogaloo on waking up with no idea where she is and learning she was successful in spite-dragging herself up a different fucking mountain in a blizzard. Except now everyone is fighting wait nope now they're Kumbaya-ing a song Andraste's Herald should really probably be familiar with whoops, oh thank God, time for a side convo with the same apostate who's been trying to turn her entire life into a history class only for her to dive in headfirst (much to his initial abject horror) and get that good good discourse she needs since she can't go around arguing with everyone else like she wants to. "The orb is ours." You know what? Of course it is. But if they need the world saved from an elven oopsie, who better to right things than an elf? Fuck it, we ball.

This is a woman who misses being close to nature and goes positively feral at Skyhold, yeeting herself over balconies and banisters and turning the ancient fortress into her personal parkour playground because she's got energy to work off and shit to do, and if the path of least resistance to hunt down everyone she needs to talk to is coincidentally the same path that will absolutely wreck her knees by the time she's sixty, that's just how it has to be.

This is a woman who finds herself back at Haven with a man she's found it possible to be unfetteringly unabashedly herself with and thinks, "hey, maybe there could be more than the flirations we've exchanged over heated discussions and philosophical deep-dives, maybe I can have just one smooch as a treat." And when she feels her slowly unfurling passion reciprocated only to be shut down? She resolves herself to fight for this fledgling love and all the fade tongue that comes with it. This is a woman who gets the tiniest glimpse of what a retirement plan might look like after this whole saving the mortal world thing and buys all the way in.

This is a woman who has Grey Wardens to save from themselves, an empire trying to self-cannibalize, and still finds the time to go rescue a spirit because she, as a fellow comrade caught up in this mess, knows damn well that no innocent deserves to suffer if she can help it while she's got this insane amount of power she never asked for. And if that happens to lead to the man she feels safe enough to nap on the library couches with confessing at last the feelings she knows he's been smothering beneath his all-too-collected surface? Yeah, she'll take that W.

This is a woman who gets absolutely blasted head-over-ass into the fade and goes "honestly things were going a little TOO well." This is a woman who sneaks a peak at the closest fears of the companions she's come to know and love and goes "not on my fucking watch." This is a woman who sees that the man she forces herself to learn the old language for, her vhenan, fears being alone more than anything in the entire knowing world and resolves herself to ensuring it never comes to pass.

This is a woman who gets the opportunity to shape the government of a straight up country and runs around collecting wooden fucking halla in a palace full of elven servants with no time to dwell on that particularly cruel irony because out here it's scheme or be schemed. This a woman who collapses against a balcony railing after putting out some of the sickest literal and metaphorical dance moves The Game has ever seen, resigned to bear her ever-increasing burdens alone, only to find her heart and his horrible horrible hat extending a hand, promising her that if he is not alone, then neither is she.

Like, do you feel me here?

And then he dares to think something as sudden and damning as the truth is enough to keep her away? The queen of tough conversations and tougher choices? No, no, dear readers who have made it this far into my descent into madness.

Inquisitor Lavellan is a master-class in encouraging the odds against her to fuck around and find out. She is a rift-mending false-god-bashing politcally savvy terror upon all of Thedas. Solas (and all of the living breathing world) is lucky she took time out of her busy schedule to notice the way his smile softens when talking about spirits or appreciate the fluidity of his form when they're obliterating venatori out in the field. This man cradled her cheeks in his shaking hands, looked into weary and wide eyes and called her beautiful, and had the audacity to steal her heart before trying to peace out and take it with him.

If she's got to track down a real god this time and frog march him into the fade to reclaim both her heart and the future she fought for because all he wants to do is launch himself like a meteor towards achieving his greatest fear, if she has to spend hours lecturing him on the sheer audacity of his ass while spirits float by and realize they're grateful they never had the chance to take on a body and subject themselves to a verbal lashing this brutal, if she has to do cartwheels around him while dropping all sorts of sweet nothings in the language she is now quite proficient in until he gets it through his luminous gleaming skull that when she said "var lath vir suledin" my girl meant it? Then that's what she's going to do.

"I wish it could, vhenan."

Oh it's going to, buddy. Buckle up to get wrecked, to get absolutely loved and cherished you fool, because Inquisitor Lavellan is not the Dread Wolf's prey, she's his hunter.

[untoldstar]

yandere! merman x reader part 2

part 1

Tag list:

@springkuinn

@scorpiosaintt

You wake up in a coughing fit, quickly moving your sore body to the side as water comes out of your mouth. Your chests heaves and your eyes slowly adjust to see you palms braces against wet dark stone. You look up to find Caspian by your side with his webbed hand on your back rubbing soothing circles on your back “You’re finally awake..I was so worried, You weren’t moving for so long.” You scoff “Worried? You dragged me into the water!” He flinches and shrinks into himself “I’m sorry! I thought humans could go longer than that underwater and I went as fast as I could! When I saw that you were falling asleep I went to the closest place I could spot.” Falling asleep? Did he mean fainting?

“I even hit your chest like other humans do at the beach but you wouldn’t wake up!” Your heart clenches at his words. Even with the shadows cast on his face making him look terrifying he sounds so innocent “I even kissed you so you could breath but it didn’t help..” His words trail off “I’m sorry what?” He huffs “I’ve seen people do it! And it always works, maybe I didn’t do it right?” Oh lord..

You sigh and rub your temples to try and sooth your headache that’s forming “Caspian why am I here? Why did you drag me into the water?” He relaxes and fixes you with a stare “Well you accepted my mating offer, It’s only right that you see my home just as I’ve seen yours.” You gape at him “What mating offer?!” His eyes squint slightly “The pearl. You accepted it. I saw you. And you accepted all of my present while I was courting you.” You slowly shake your head “And now we’re mates. What’s so hard to understand?” He moves closer to you until his face is inches away from yours, and both his arms at your side. His eyes rake over your face, studying your expression “I didn’t know you were courting me! Maybe give a warning next time?!” He frowns “There will be no next time we’re already mates. Don’t humans also do the same when they love someone?” “They do but they make it clear by telling the person that they’re courting them.” You explain like you would to a little child. He nods slowly and you let out a sigh of relief “I see..Well, to be clear when I gave you all those gifts I was courting you.” You bite back a groan “Now with that out of the way.” He scoops your hands up in his bigger ones rubbing small circles with his thumbs “Are you hungry? Do you want to eat something? I’m sure there are things humans can eat down here.” You’re not sure there’s much that’s safe to eat here “Or maybe you’d like to rest?” He stutters.You try to pull your hands out of his grasp but his grip only tightens “I want to go home..” His shoulders slump and his grip loosens for a second before he regains his composure. “You will..but I want you to see my home and friends first just as I’ve seen where you live.” You hesitate “I don’t know..” You glance around you. You’re stuck in a cave that you almost died getting to there’s no way you can swim the entire distance back. You don’t really have a choice but to go with him. You hide your frustrations with a smile “Okay. Let’s go to your home.” His body relaxes and he leans in to plant a soft kiss on your forehead “It’s not far.” He gently tugs your arms and leads you both into the water. True to his words it wasn’t far and the fact he was basically swimming for the both of you helped focus on holding your breath.Coral reefs filled your vision. Tall and dark almost blending in with its surroundings going unnoticed unless you look closely. He leads you through a small opening and you feel like a new world opened up to you. Unlike the bleak appearance the outside had the inside is a whole world of glowing colors. Different merpeople swim about around you some not sparing you glance and other throwing nasty stares which isn’t surprising judging by what Caspian told you.

He turns to you “You can breathe here.” You frown and slowly try to take a deep breath. It feels heavier and thicker. Like the air has a heavier weight in your chest but it’s not too imposing on your comfort you could get used to it with time “This place is so beautiful Caspian..how can I breath here?” He glances at you and smiles, pleased you want to know more about his world “We weren’t always hostile towards humans. We used to be very close and humans would visit us. This entire place has been enchanted for a long time so that humans could breathe and function normally. Even when the relationship became strained we never removed the enchantment.” You nod along looking around and admiring all the beautiful glowing colors “Why not? If you hate human so much wouldn’t you want them out?” You ask “It didn’t seem fair at the time. Of course humans have long since forgotten about us so it doesn’t make a difference really.” He trails off before his eyes light up “There are humans here sometimes though. Really it’s only when other merpeople bring them here, as mates. Like us now.” He smiles and squeezes your hand. You return a tight smile. You’re not sure how you feel yet and you don’t want to get his hopes up too high “So this is normal here?” He shakes his head “Not normal but also it’s not completely rare. One of the reasons we never removed the enchantment.” He sneaks a protective arm around your waist when he notices a mermaid glaring at the both of you “Wait when did this whole thing go down?” He sighs “Centuries ago. Long before I was born.”

The noise around you dies down as you swim into a more secluded area between tall seaweeds. An old run down statue of a mermaid sunken deep into the sand. He sits at the base of the stone his tail swaying slightly and gestures for you to sit beside him, when you do his hands are immediately on you“There are so many places I want to show you. You’ll love it.” He leans in kisses you, smiling into the kiss “My beautiful mate.” His hands trail down to your waist and pull you closer until your bodies are flush against each other. He trails kisses down to your neck “Uh- Caspian.” He continues “Mhm?” You’re tense in this new environment and you feel awkward being this affectionate with him when you weren’t even aware any of your interactions were romantic to begin with “..I’m really hungry.” He straighten up immediately “Oh- of course.” He places one last kiss on your lips before taking your hand in his.

Caspian’s home in a much quieter area but not completely secluded. It was big and somehow even in the cold water it was cozy, filled with little trinkets and items he collected and had placed around the house. A wrists watch that doesn’t work anymore. You’re not sure if he knows it’s not supposed to be like that and it’s pretty much useless like that. A lot of jewelry. Diamond earrings, engagement rings, gold bracelets. You can’t begin to imagine the amount of money it’s all worth.

You also found toys that no doubt children lost while swimming and ended up in Caspian’s possession. You much on the last bite of your food. Something Caspian had his friend who also had a human mate prepare ahead of time. You weren’t completely sure what it was made of you were just glad to finally fill your stomach with food.

Caspian was sitting beside you watching you eat the entire time looking like a love sick puppy “Are you still hungry? There’s more.” You shake your head. “You have a lot of human stuff here.” He nods “I love the things humans make. I don’t understand what most of it is for but I’d like to.” He looks at you with hopeful eyes and you can’t help but smile “I’d love to teach you Caspian.” His eyes twinkle “My sweet little mate.” He gently kisses you and moves you to lay down “You need rest. Close your eyes. I’ll be here.” He lays down behind you, his arms wrapping themselves around you. You feel exhaustion slowly take over your body barely acknowledging the kisses Caspian is littering on the side of your neck “I love you.” He whispers and nuzzles into your neck and you finally drift off into sleep.

Caspian when you try to explain that he needs to communicate before he kidnaps someone underwater:

part 3

[suliigwp]

Hi Suli! I just read your My Woman and it was amazing! I loved it! It was really beautifully written. I devoured all three versions!

Would you be able to write an Oscar version?

If not then that's perfectly fine, no pressure :)

Have a great day!!

MY WOMAN

Oscar Piastri x Reader

Other Versions: Charles Leclerc , Carlos Sainz, Lando Norris, Max Verstappen, Lewis Hamilton

SULI: Hii!! Oh thank you so much for the support I saw you reposted all of them and that means so much! I'm so glad you enjoyed them! Yes, of course I'll give you an Oscar one I'm obsessed with that man - The "My woman" series has been receiving so much love and I'm so thankful for every one of you!

Also! I didn't notice but this ended up being like the same universe of this fic! That I had written earlier because mean!reader x Oscar is the only thing I'll accept- hope you enjoy!

Warnings: men.

It was the kind of silence that crept in around the edges of a conversation. The kind that stretched too long between glances. The kind that said something happened—but no one was saying what.

Y/n noticed it the second Oscar walked into her flat that night. He was on time. He kissed her cheek. He even brought her favorite drink from that coffee place two blocks down.

But his shoulders were stiff. His eyes didn’t linger the way they usually did.

She didn’t ask right away. She didn’t need to.

They had dinner like normal. He asked about her new project; she asked about his next sim session. But every answer was two degrees too distant. Measured. Careful.

And finally, when she caught him staring off toward the window instead of at her, she set her fork down and leaned back.

“Okay,” she said. “What did they say?”

Oscar blinked. “What?”

“Whoever it was. What did they say about me?”

His jaw tensed.

“You’re imagining it,” he said after a pause. “It’s nothing.”

That was when she knew it wasn’t nothing.

“Oscar.”

He stood up slowly, walking to the kitchen, his back to her. “It’s not worth repeating.”

She stood too, something sharp pressing into her ribs. “Tell me.”

He didn’t move for a second. Then finally, carefully:

“One of the senior sponsors pulled me aside today. Said you were bad for my image. That being around someone ‘like you’—someone with a reputation—wasn’t smart. Said it made people nervous.”

She laughed once. Cold. “Of course they did.”

Oscar turned then, eyes unreadable. “They said you’re manipulative. That you’re only with me for the attention.”

Her lips parted slightly. She didn’t move.

“And what did you say?” she asked, voice flat.

“I didn’t say anything,” he answered softly.

A long, aching pause.

Y/n took a step back, arms folding. “Wow.”

“I didn’t say anything—” he repeated, “—because I told him to leave. Immediately after.”

She blinked.

“I didn’t argue. I didn’t explain you. I didn’t give him a list of reasons why he was wrong.”

Oscar’s voice was low now. Focused. “Because you’re not a public relations problem. You���re not some PR line I have to fix.”

He stepped closer, slowly.

“I didn’t defend you because there was nothing to defend. You didn’t do anything wrong.”

She swallowed.

“And then,” he added, “I told him if he ever speaks about you again, he can go find another driver to sponsor.”

Her eyes widened. “You didn’t.”

“I did.”

“Are you insane? Do you know what that could do?”

“I do.”

“Oscar—”

“Let them be uncomfortable,” he said, firmer now. “Let them be nervous.”

“Why?”

“Because you’re my woman.”

She froze.

He never said things like that.

But he did now.

“I know what people say about you,” he continued. “I know what they think. That you’re too much. Too cold. Too clever. That you get what you want and don’t care how.”

She stared at him.

“I also know you stay up till 2 a.m. to help your friends with job applications. I know you carry three glosses if anyone needs any. I know you push people away before they can leave. But you don’t push me.”

His voice softened again.

“They can say what they want. They don’t see what I see.”

She blinked hard. Bit her lip.

He stepped forward again. Took her hands.

“You don’t need me to fight your battles,” he whispered. “But I will. Every time. Whether you want me to or not.”

For a long time, she didn’t say anything. Her throat was tight. Her fingers curled into his shirt.

And finally, quietly:

“Next time, you tell me first.”

Oscar smiled—barely, gently.

“Next time, you’ll be too busy burning them down yourself.”

[winxanity-ii]

FIRST [1/?]

ship: virgin!telemachus x fem!virgin!brothel worker!reader warnings: explicit ( oral f. receiving only / mutual virginity / heavy fanservice / soft dominance ) word count: 6.3k (strap up, babes, this is a long one~) a/n: y'all i don't know why but i've been SO embarrassed about this lil fic just sitting in my docs 😭😭 like i fully forgot i'm grown (20) and can post what i want??? even then i guess it's just the lil-nerd in me who just giggles/squirms when faced with my own smut 💀💀 but yeah this is a oneshot that started as a silly thought (aka virgin!telemachus with virgin!reader and then turned into a whole thing and now i'm in love with telemachus and maybe crying a little?? anyway. pls enjoy this soft, heated, reverent mess of a fic. (also someone come get Peisistratus for being a menace) 💀🩷✨✨ idk might do part 2 if i can get over this block 😭😭

★·.·´🇪‌🇵‌🇮‌🇨‌: 🇹‌🇭‌🇪‌ 🇲‌🇺‌🇸‌🇮‌🇨‌🇦‌🇱‌ 🇲‌🇦‌🇸‌🇹‌🇪‌🇷‌🇱‌🇮‌🇸‌🇹‌`·.·★

The tavern was too loud for a place still mourning.

Laughter clanged like armor. Mugs slammed against wood. Someone was playing a lyre too fast, too off-key, but the crowd didn't care—they were drunk on peace, drunk on wine, drunk on finally.

And maybe Telemachus should've been, too.

He sat at the far end of the long table, boots planted, tunic a little looser than usual. There was still a sword at his hip—habit, not threat—but he hadn't had to reach for it in weeks. The suitors were gone. His father had returned. His mother no longer cried into candlelight. Ithaca breathed again.

So why couldn't he?

"Drink," said Peisistratus, pushing a cup toward him. "If you're going to stare like that, at least look mysterious while doing it."

Telemachus blinked. "I wasn't—"

"Yes, you were," his friend grinned. "Whole brooding prince thing? Very effective. That barmaid's been eyeing you since we walked in."

Telemachus turned, just in time to see her saunter off after dropping another round of drinks. She had smiled at him, he thought. Maybe lingered. He hadn't noticed.

He glanced back at Peisistratus, sheepish. "She was just being polite."

"She was being polite with her chest, my guy."

Telemachus sputtered into his wine.

Peisistratus leaned back with the smugness only the youngest son of a king could afford. "Gods, you're hopeless. What do they do in Ithaca, anyway? Stitch tapestries? Pray? Practice self-restraint until you die untouched?"

"We defend our homes," Telemachus said, wiping his mouth. "We hold our families together. I didn't exactly have time to entertain women while men ate my mother's food and planned to take her bed."

Peisistratus groaned. "Still reciting war monologues, huh? Your house is intact, your mom's safe, your dad's alive, and you—you've still never—"

"Don't." Telemachus glanced around, lowering his voice. "You don't have to announce it."

"Then deny it."

He said nothing.

Peisistratus stared. "Telemachus."

Still silence.

The prince of Pylos let out the most exaggerated gasp Telemachus had ever heard. "You are—!"

"I never had time, okay?" Telemachus snapped, heat rushing to his cheeks. "And it's not like I—like anyone—I mean, I could have, maybe, once or twice, but—"

"Spare me." Peisistratus slammed the mug down. "You've been home for weeks. Women all over the castle smiling like doves in heat. And you've done nothing?"

Telemachus opened his mouth. Closed it.

"...You're impossible."

"I'm cautious," he rebuttled.

"You're cursed."

Telemachus rolled his eyes. "You said we were celebrating your last night in Ithaca, not my alleged virginity."

"And we are." Peisistratus stood up suddenly. "Which is why we're fixing that."

Telemachus tensed. "What are you doing?"

"Getting you out of your own head." The younger prince grabbed his wrist. "Come on."

"Wait—"

"I know a place."

"Peisistratus—"

"You trust me, don't you?"

"I—That's not the point—!"

"It is exactly the point." Peisistratus grinned, half-dragging him through the tavern door, past the lyre, past the wine, into the soft night where stars bloomed and scandal lurked.

Telemachus' stomach dropped. He wasn't sure if it was the alcohol, the nerves, or the fact that for the first time in years... he didn't know what came next.

☆

☆

The wash water stung your hands. Not from heat, but from the way your fingers had cracked again—tiny splits in your skin from scrubbing too long, too often, with too little rest between. But you didn't stop. You couldn't stop. If you could just finish this last basin, you could dry your hands by the fire and maybe—

"Hey." You flinched.

One of the older girls leaned into the doorway, silk slipping off her shoulder, perfume following behind her like smoke. She was smiling—but not in that fake, flirty way they did for customers. This was different. Kind. Almost... pitying.

"You're up."

"...Up?" you echoed, straightening too fast.

"First client. Just got called in. He's a special one, too. Big spender."

Your mouth went dry. "I—I thought—"

"I know. You've been doing laundry for weeks. Earning your keep. But tonight's different."

She crossed the room, gently took the basin from your hands, and set it down. The water sloshed over the sides. You stared at it like it might pull you under.

"I'm not ready."

"No one ever is," she said softly. "Come on. We'll help you."

Moments later, you sat like a doll in a chair that wasn't yours, surrounded by girls whose hands moved too fast for you to follow.

One was curling your hair with a hot iron pin, another was dabbing rose oil on your wrists. Someone else adjusted the straps on a dress that dipped too low, hugged too tight. You barely recognized yourself in the mirror. Cheeks smooth in oil. Lips bitten raw. Cleavage you'd never seen before.

"You're shaking," said one girl, brushing powder across your collarbone.

"I-I'm fine," you lied.

"She's nervous," another grinned. "That's cute."

"She's lucky," said the girl with the perfume. "First time, and she gets him."

You finally gain the courage to speak. "...Who?"

The girls exchanged a look.

"I heard he's a prince," someone whispered. "Or close to it. Tall. Polite. Kind eyes. Might not even make you do anything."

You swallowed hard.

"Just remember," said the first girl, crouching in front of you, voice low. "Pretend you've done this before. That you're in charge. Even if you're not. Men like that."

Her hand touched yours. Warm. Grounding.

"You'll be okay."

.☆.      .✩.           .☆.

You followed the madam up the stairs like you were walking to your own execution.

Each step felt louder than it should've. Your heartbeat was pounding in your throat. She stopped in front of a thick wooden door, glanced over her shoulder, and whispered, "He's already inside."

Then she was gone.

Just like that.

You stood there for a second, alone in the silence, hands slick with sweat, chest so tight it hurt. You almost turned and ran. Almost knocked on the madam's office and begged to go back to your linens, to the hot sting of soapwater, to the safety of anonymity. Almost.

But you didn't.

You opened the door.

He stood near the window, back turned, silhouetted by moonlight.

His posture was perfect—hands clasped behind his back, chin slightly tilted, like he was measuring the stars. His cloak was folded neatly on the chair beside him. His boots, still dusty from the road. He didn't turn at the sound of the door closing.

Your fingers clenched at your sides. You tried to remember what the girls said.

Pretend I've done this before. That I'm in charge.

You took one step. Then another.

Your voice came out soft—too soft. "You can sit down... if you'd like."

He turned.

And you forgot how to breathe.

Not just because he was handsome—though gods, he was. Soft brown curls that caught the light. Broad shoulders. Eyes like calm earth after rain. But what stunned you wasn't his looks.

It was the way he looked at you.

Like you were real.

Like he hadn't expected someone nervous, someone trembling in silk like she was being sacrificed.

Like... he saw it.

He stepped forward, slower than you expected.

You reached up—mechanically—like you'd practiced. Fingers brushing his jaw. His skin was warm. Clean-shaven. You smiled, or tried to, coy and low-lidded like the others had shown you.

But when he raised a hand—slowly, carefully, like he was asking permission—and touched your cheek...

You flinched.

Your whole body jolted. Just slightly. But enough.

He froze. His palm still hovered, but he didn't push.

You dropped your gaze. "I'm sorry. Forgive me. I just—I've never—" The words got caught. Your throat burned.

He stepped back. Not in shame. Just to give you space.

"...Me neither," he said quietly.

There was a silence after he spoke. Not an awkward one. Not really. More like a stillness—a moment suspended in the air between two strangers who had no idea what to do now that the truth had been said aloud.

You weren't sure who sat down first. Maybe you did. Maybe he followed. But somehow you both ended up on the edge of the bed, not touching, facing slightly different directions like you were afraid of spooking each other.

You stared at your hands in your lap. "I didn't think... you'd be nervous."

He gave a soft huff, not quite a laugh. "Why not?"

"Because when I walked in here, you turned around like... like you weren't afraid of anything."

That made him pause.

He looked at you—just looked—eyes dark and unreadable, like he was weighing whether to say the truth or something easier.

Then, slowly, his mouth curved into a faint, crooked smile. "Looks can be deceiving." He held out his hand. "I'm Telemachus."

You blinked.

The name struck something deep in your chest. You're not sure why, but it sounded really familiar. Still, you reached out, slipping your fingers into his before the silence stretched too long. "I'm ____."

He held your hand a second longer than he had to.

" ____." he said softly, like he was tasting it. "That's... a beautiful name."

He repeated it again, slower this time. More careful. Like he was folding it into memory.

You looked away first. But only for a second. When you turned back, he was already watching you—shoulders drawn in a little, face unreadable.

He blinked, startled at being caught, and looked away quickly, reaching up to scratch the back of his neck. His ears were flushed.

"Sorry," he muttered. "I'm not... I didn't come here planning to do anything like this. My friend—he pushed. I didn't even mean to follow him in, but I—I don't know."

He sighed through a breath he hadn't realized he was holding, shoulders rising and falling under the weight of his own honesty.

"I've fought men twice my size. Led ships through storms. Stared down men who wanted to kill me in my own hall," he said. Then turned his head to you, eyes meeting yours. "None of that was as terrifying as opening that door."

You blinked at him. "...Why?"

He looked away again, and you could tell he was choosing his words.

"...Because if I went through with this," he said slowly, "I'd never be able to go back."

That confused you. "Back?"

"To the boy who never did," he murmured. "To the version of me who still hadn't. I spent so long carrying him around, pretending he didn't matter. But I think he does. And if I let him go—" he paused, "—I want it to be for something real."

You swallowed.

Telemachus glanced at you, half-smiling. "Sorry. That was a bit heavy."

"No, it wasn't," you said, surprising yourself. "I... understand."

He tilted his head. "Do you?"

You nodded. "I gave my first kiss to a coin."

He blinked.

You flushed. "I mean—! I didn't—I meant—" You exhaled, collecting yourself. "I gave it to the idea of a coin. A better life. A trade. I thought I could handle it. That if I said yes to this place, I could keep my soul out of it."

He was quiet.

You laughed, bitter. "But I think it got in anyway."

When you looked up, his expression had changed. Something had softened in him—not out of pity. Not out of guilt. But recognition. He knew that feeling. That ache behind your voice.

"I was scared," you whispered. "I still am."

Telemachus leaned forward, elbows on his knees, gaze steady. "What are you scared of?"

"That it'll hurt," you said. "That it'll be awful. That I'll do something wrong."

"It's not something you can do wrong," he said quietly. "Not when you mean it."

"...Do you?"

His breath caught. You didn't mean to ask it like that. Like it was a challenge. But it hung there.

He nodded. "I... I think I do. Now."

Another long pause. But something shifted in it—something warmer.

You both smiled, small and unsure.

He turned slightly toward you. "Would it be alright if... if I... kissed you?"

You nodded.

The kiss wasn't perfect. It wasn't practiced or smooth or clever. It was a little too hesitant. A little too careful. His lips were warm but tentative, like he didn't want to overwhelm you. Your fingers curled in his tunic, clutching the fabric, not pulling—just holding. His hand touched your cheek again, and this time, you didn't flinch.

It deepened. Slowly. You tilted your head. He let out a breath.

When you finally parted, you were both smiling now, a little dazed.

"I don't want to do anything that scares you," he murmured.

"That's the thing," you said softly. "It still scares me. But... not as much."

He leaned back slightly, just enough to see your face. "Do you want to stop?"

You hesitated, and then, with the tiniest breath, you said, "No."

You moved first this time—your hand trembling slightly, brushing the inside of his knee and then higher, testing the waters. He inhaled sharply, but didn't stop you—his gaze locked on yours like he was waiting to see what you'd do next.

He didn't move.

Didn't push.

Didn't take.

He just watched you, like you were a storm rolling in, and he was the only man foolish enough to stand beneath the thunder. But then you moved again. Just a shift, just closer. And something in you said: Try it. So you did.

You leaned in and kissed him.

The moment your lips touched his, Telemachus melted into it—no hesitation, no second-guessing. His hand cupped the back of your neck like it was instinct, holding you steady, and then—

His mouth opened, his tongue slid against yours, and you gasped.

A startled, breathy sound that you couldn't bite back. It caught in your throat like a held-back whimper, made your lashes flutter. You weren't expecting that—how warm he was, how eager. He kissed like someone starved. Like someone who'd read about it, dreamed about it, but never had permission to try.

And gods, once he had it... he took it.

His arms wrapped around you without thought, strong and sure. In one smooth motion, he pulled you forward, shifting until you were straddling his lap, your knees against the bed, your body pressed flush to his. His hands didn't just rest at your back—they curled, palms dragging up your spine like he was learning the shape of you by feel alone.

Your mind raced.

He's strong. He's so strong. This is going so fast—but I don't want it to stop.

You barely remembered to breathe.

His hands spread wide against your ribs, holding you in place like he was afraid you'd vanish. His tongue moved against yours again, this time slower—more deliberate. Testing. Teasing. Tasting.

You whimpered, and his grip tightened.

Some small, silly part of your brain sparked to life, voice hushed but not gone:

If this is what all the customers are like... maybe working at the brothel won't be so bad.

But the thought barely had time to settle before memory returned, sharper now—the voices of the girls who'd painted your lips and whispered in your ear before the door opened.

"Touch his chest. Men love that."

"Use your hips—grind just a little, then stop."

"Fake moan. Even if you don't mean it. They eat that up."

The words came in flashes.

You tried to recall what you were supposed to do next. How you were supposed to arch your back or roll your hips or do that breathy little laugh one girl had demonstrated by the mirror.

But none of it came naturally.

Not when his hands felt so real. Not when his lips were shaking slightly against yours. Not when he kissed you like you were something he didn't think he'd ever get again.

You clutched his shoulders instead.

Not because someone told you to, but because you didn't know how else to keep yourself from falling apart.

Your lips finally broke from his, breath catching as you pulled back just enough to see him.

And gods—Telemachus looked wrecked.

His cheeks were flushed pink, almost feverish. A single curl clung to his forehead, damp with sweat, while the rest of his hair had fallen wildly out of place, soft spirals tousled from where your fingers had tugged them. His mouth hung open slightly, lips swollen and red, wet where he'd kissed you too long and too hard and too much—not that you'd wanted him to stop.

His eyes, though...they were the worst part.

Wide. Glassy. A little dazed.

And so hungry.

Not like a man ready to devour—but like a boy starved of softness, blinking up at you like you'd just fed him something he never knew he needed.

You sat on his lap still, panting softly, your chest rising against his.

Your hand moved before you could think. Fingers brushing his jaw, then up along his cheek. You cupped his face, thumb tracing just beneath his eye like you were trying to remember every line of him.

He's handsome, you thought, breathless.Too handsome to be here. Too gentle to want someone like me.

Telemachus leaned into your touch like it was instinct. Like it was safe.

You stared at him.

And then... you moved.

Slowly, you slid from his lap, your knees hitting the floor one after the other. Your hands rested on his thighs, steadying yourself. You leaned forward, eyes cast down, heartbeat loud in your ears.

This was what the other girls said men wanted.

This was what they told you would happen eventually.

Maybe if you did it well, he'd want to come back. Maybe he'd ask for you again. Maybe—

But your fingers had barely reached for the tie of his tunic before—

He stopped you.

Gently.

Firmly.

Telemachus' hands curled around your waist again—not desperate, not panicked, but certain. Like he'd been waiting to stop you from this.

You didn't even get to ask why before he was lifting you. Effortless.

He picked you up like it was nothing, like you weighed less than the breath in his lungs. Before you could protest, he'd turned and settled you back on the bed—this time seated lower, your legs tucked beside you. You stared up at him, startled, breath still ragged.

His hands didn't leave your hips. But they didn't move either. Just stayed there. Warm. Steady. Present.

You swallowed. "Why...?"

He crouched slightly, bringing himself to eye level, voice soft.

"I'm not here to take from you," he murmured. "I... I don't want that to be your first memory."

You blinked. Tried to read his face. His voice hadn't changed. There was no judgment in it. No shame. Just... truth.

He touched your knee—light, barely a brush.

"But... I want to give you something... If you'll let me."

It didn't take long for the truth of it to click into place.

Your breath caught in your throat, your heart lurching as it settled in.

He was telling you—right now, in this quiet moment with your hands still trembling in your lap—he wanted to give, and he wanted nothing in return.

The realization made your stomach twist in a way you didn't have a name for.

Before you could find your voice—before you could tell him, you don't have to, I didn't mean for this—

Telemachus moved.

He dropped to one knee—not with dramatics, not like some chivalrous knight, but like something in him had simply given way. Like his body understood before his mind did that this was where he belonged.

Not beneath you. But before you.

His shoulders bowed, his head dipping slightly as his gaze stayed locked on yours. His hands hovered over your thighs—not touching, just there. Waiting. Asking without words.

He didn't blink. Didn't flinch.

"You don't have to do anything," he whispered. His voice was so low it felt like a secret passed between breaths. "Just let me take care of you."

Your lips parted, but you didn't speak.

He continued—voice steady, but laced with something softer. Something closer to awe.

"I've thought about this moment," he admitted. "Not like this, not here—but... about what it would feel like. To be trusted with someone. By someone."

His fingers finally moved—just enough to ghost over your knees. Then higher. Sliding along your thighs, slow and warm and so careful.

He didn't press them apart.

He didn't ask for more.

He just waited.

And the way he looked at you—gods, it was unbearable. His eyes didn't flick down to your chest. Didn't scan your body like a thing bought and paid for. They were locked on yours. Unblinking. Steady. Patient.

You didn't think you'd ever been looked at like that.

Like your nervousness was sacred. Like your silence was allowed. Like you were the sky and he'd found a place in it.

Your hands curled into the sheets.

And then—

You nodded.

And everything stilled.

Not the air. Not the quiet creak of the floorboards beneath the bed. But him. Telemachus didn't surge forward. Didn't pounce. He waited one heartbeat—two—just to be sure. Just to give you the chance to change your mind. And when you didn't, he moved.

The first press of his lips to your inner knee was enough to break you. You inhaled sharply, your thighs twitching from how careful he was being. As if he thought you might shatter. As if he'd fall apart too, if he touched you wrong.

His hands were warm against your calves, large and steady, sliding beneath your legs to part them—not forcing. Guiding. Creating space. Creating breath.

You couldn't look at him. Could only stare at the ceiling as the fabric of your dress shifted—bunched higher and higher as his hands pushed it past your knees, your thighs, up over your hips. Each inch of exposure made your skin burn. Not from embarrassment. From realization.

From how huge his hands felt.

The way his palms wrapped around you so easily. How his thumbs brushed along the softest parts of your inner thighs. How your skin tingled wherever he touched—like his fingertips were ink, and you were being written on.

His lips followed.

He kissed higher.

Slowly.

Carefully.

Like each inch of skin was a vow.

He paused between each kiss like he needed permission from your skin to keep going. And when he reached the place right at the intersection of your thighs—he paused again, and the heat of his breath made you jerk.

Your voice came out soft. Fragile. "Telemachus..."

His head tilted up.

You expected hunger. Or urgency.

But his eyes..

Gods, his eyes.

They were soft. Dazed. Like he was seeing something divine.

You could feel his breath there—there—hot and reverent, like prayer pressed to skin. It burned in the most delicate way. A kiss without contact.

And then—

His mouth covered you.

You jerked.

A small, startled squeak caught in your throat as your hips lifted off the bed, back arching on instinct. The heat of his mouth was searing—not rough, not greedy, just everywhere. Warm and wet and real.

"T-Telemachus—!" you gasped, the sound breaking halfway through as his tongue moved. You clutched at his hair—those soft brown curls that caught your eye the moment you saw him—and whimpered as the pressure began to build.

It was clumsy at first. Careful. Testing. But gods, he was trying—tongue flicking and tasting and exploring in slow, cautious strokes that grew bolder every time you whimpered.

Every sound you made pulled something new from him.

You couldn't see his face, but you felt him—his hands gripping your thighs tighter, holding you open, his mouth pressing against you like he was trying to learn you by muscle memory. Like he didn't want to miss a single reaction.

You weren't trying to say his name, not really, but it kept falling from your lips like a prayer—"Telemachus, Telemachus, Telemachus—" and every time you said it, his grip on your thighs tightened, his tongue slowed, focused, like the sound fed him.

He moaned into you once—just once—and the vibration made you cry out, thighs twitching around his head. Your fingers tangled in the sheets. You couldn't stop moving, couldn't stop trembling. Every time you cried out—every little "ah," every breathless "oh gods"—he shook with need.

"Please," you whispered, not even knowing what you were asking for.

His hands slid further beneath you, thumbs hooking under your thighs as he lifted your legs—gently, reverently—and pulled them over his shoulders, like this was where he'd wanted to be all night.

He didn't stop.

He couldn't stop.

His fingers pressed into your hips, holding you still when you started to squirm, when your legs tried to close. You didn't want to push him away—you just didn't know what to do with all of it.

The pressure. The heat. The way he was everywhere.

And when you came—

Gods, when it hit—

You didn't scream. You didn't cry.

You breathed—one long, shaking exhale as your whole body went tense, then soft. Your thighs locked around his head, your back bowed, and your fingers slipped from his hair to your own lips, muffling the sound that rose from deep inside your chest.

And he didn't stop.

Not right away.

Telemachus kissed you through it—tongue gentle again now, coaxing you down with slow, soft laps that made your thighs tremble and your lungs shudder. Like he couldn't bear to let you go yet. Like he wanted to catch every last wave of your pleasure and hold it in his mouth.

Only when your hips twitched from the overstimulation and you sagged against the pillows like a storm passing, then—and only then—did he lift his head.

He looked... wrecked.

His face was flushed. Lips wet. Hair mussed from where your fingers had accidentally tangled in it. He looked like a boy who'd just touched divinity and barely survived.

For a while, neither of you moved.

Your legs had gone loose. Your chest rose and fell like it had been emptied of every secret you'd ever tried to carry. And him—Telemachus just stayed there. Sitting on the floor beside the bed, head resting against the mattress, eyes closed like he was memorizing the sound of your breathing.

He hadn't touched you since. Not in that way. Not even to kiss you again. He just sat there, reverent and flushed and so very still, as if breaking the silence might ruin it.

Eventually, you found your voice.

"Should I... should I... help you?"

He let out a breathless laugh. "No. I'm... I'm alright."

You looked at him, eyes flicking downward.

He was obviously not alright.

But he only smiled—softer this time, a little crooked.

"That was enough," he said. "More than enough." Now it's his turn to question you. "Was it... Was that—?" he started, then cut himself off, unsure.

Your hand reached for him, thumb brushing the corner of his mouth, catching the last trace of yourself there.

"That was..." you couldn't even finish. Your voice cracked, but you smiled. And that was enough.

His breath hitched, just for a second. Then, gently, he asked, "Can... Can I lie beside you?"

You nodded.

He stood and climbed onto the bed with a quiet grace that didn't match how tightly his body must've been wound. He slid in behind you—not too close. Not assuming. But when you shifted—just a little—and your back brushed his chest, he went still.

You felt his arm ghost toward your waist. Waiting. Always waiting.

You let him.

He exhaled as he wrapped around you, chest pressed against your spine, his breath steady against your hair.

And gods... it felt like safety.

Not heat. Not hunger. Just warmth.

You'd never been touched like that before.

Never felt like that before.

And the craziest part?

Neither had he.

You whispered, "...You're still hard."

You felt him laugh, muffled against the back of your neck. "I know."

"I can—"

"No," he said softly. "Not tonight."

You turned your head just enough to glimpse him over your shoulder. "Then... what do we do now?"

He smiled. Sleepy. Adoring. Infatuated in a way that made your heart ache.

"Now?" he murmured. "Now we stay."

And so you did.

With his arm draped over your waist, his nose tucked behind your ear, and your breath starting to slow to match his, you let yourself fall asleep.

Just this once, in someone else's arms.

Just this once, without fear.

☆

☆

You woke to the smell of lavender soap and old wood.

For a moment, your eyes stayed closed. You didn't want to risk opening them—afraid that the night before had been a dream spun from nerves and exhaustion. Afraid that if you looked beside you, he'd be gone. Or worse... that he'd still be there, and it wouldn't mean anything.

But you didn't need to open your eyes to know he was still behind you.

You could feel him.

Telemachus' chest was warm against your spine, one arm draped lazily over your waist. His fingers twitched in his sleep, like he was still holding on to something. His breath was slow. Even. Peaceful.

You tried not to move. Tried to hold still like maybe if you stayed quiet enough, time would pause. But it didn't. You felt the moment start to shift—the softness fraying at the edges, reality creeping in.

You turned your head slightly. Just enough to whisper, "Are you awake?"

His breath caught. And then, softly. "Yeah."

You rolled onto your back, eyes meeting his.

He looked ruined. Hair tousled. Eyes a little puffy. Lips still flushed from where you'd kissed him. But gods, if he didn't look at you like you were something he was scared to blink at.

"Hi," you whispered.

He smiled. "Hi."

Neither of you moved.

You weren't sure what to say. Should you say anything? Ask if he'd be back? If it meant something? If he'd still want you when the sun was high and the world was loud again?

But then he reached up, fingertips barely brushing your cheek, and said, "I've got to leave soon."

Your stomach dropped. You nodded, trying not to let it show.

"But," he added quickly, "that doesn't mean this... have to end."

You looked at him.

He smiled—soft, boyish, crooked. "I don't think I could forget you if I tried."

You didn't believe him. Not really. But part of you wanted to. And maybe that was enough for now.

You sat up, pulled the sheet around you. "I should get dressed before everyone wakes and the girls start talking."

"They'll talk anyway," he muttered.

You looked over your shoulder. "Oh?"

He smirked faintly. "They were whispering when I came in last night. Half the brothel knew where I was going."

That made your cheeks burn.

You stood, tried to tame your hair, tried to smooth the wrinkles out of the dress you'd been poured into. You felt his eyes on you the whole time. Not leering. Just... watching.

Like he still couldn't believe you were real.

"I'll send for you," he said suddenly.

You turned. "What?"

"I mean—" he sat up, voice softer now, more careful. "If... If you want your actual first time to be... different... I could find a way."

Your throat tightened. "You don't have to—"

"I want to."

You blinked.

He stood. Stepped close. Tucked a piece of your hair behind your ear and whispered, "If last night was your first... then I want the second to be mine, too."

And then he was gone.

.☆.      .✩.          .☆.

You were back in the laundry room before the others, sleeves rolled to your elbows, sleeves that still smelled faintly like him. You kept your head down, folding quietly, avoiding the curious glances and the not-so-subtle giggles from the other girls.

"Did he kiss you?"

"Did you touch him?"

"How big was his dick?"

You ignored them.

The madam approached mid-morning. You braced yourself for orders—new clients, more linen, someone drunk puking on the rugs again. But she only said. "You're off the floor."

You blinked. "What?"

"No clients. No touch work. From today on, you stay with the laundry."

Your lips parted. "Why?"

She didn't answer at first, just tucked a folded piece of parchment into your palm. A receipt. A payment.

"He bought it. Your virginity." she said simply. "The prince. Paid enough to take you off rotation."

Your mouth dropped. "Prince??"

She snorted—an unladylike sound for a woman who wore perfume and lace—and kept walking, her heels clacking across the wooden floor as she called out something about clean towels to the other girls.

You scrambled after her, nearly tripping on the hem of your skirt. "Wait—wait! What do you mean a prince?! Why would a prince buy me? When would he—does he come back? Will he come back tonight?!"

The brothel was already alive with its usual morning rhythm—cleaning cloths flapping out windows, perfume bottles clinking onto vanities, girls slipping between one another to straighten bedding and fluff pillows. A few early clients sat in the lounge area downstairs, their voices low and lazy, nursing watered-down wine while waiting for their favorites to appear from behind silk curtains.

You chased the madam past them all, dodging a tray of breakfast figs and a girl giggling down the hall with her corset still half-undone. You reached the hallway leading back toward the laundry room when she suddenly spun around to face you—and you stumbled to a stop with a squeak.

She didn't speak at first.

Just looked at you. Looked through you.

Then—tap.

Two fingers to the center of your forehead.

"Honestly," she sighed. "And here I thought you were one of the smart ones."

You blinked, wide-eyed. "I—I am!"

She gave you a flat look. "You keep the ledgers balanced. You talk back to the bookkeeper without blinking. You know which clients are late on payment before they sit down. Hell, you taught Clio how to read last week—and you fixed the squeaky back door with an oil rag and string."

Your face flushed. "Then why—"

"Because, darling," she said, tone sharp but not cruel, "you're acting like a little airhead this morning, and it's beneath you."

You shrank in on yourself slightly. "I just... I don't understand."

She sighed again and pinched the bridge of her nose. "The man you were with last night—"

"Telemachus," you said quickly, almost breathless. Just hearing his name made your chest pull tight.

The madam's lips pursed.

Tap.

She poked your forehead again, this time more pointed.

"That's Prince Telemachus," she corrected. "Don't forget who you're talking about."

You blinked. "But I thought—he never told me—"

She raised a brow. "Of course he didn't. Nobles never do. Not when they want to see how you treat them before the title gets in the way. That's why you listen to the whispers that goes through here. I'm positive someone let it loose."

Your mouth opened, but no words came out.

She continued walking, and you had to trot after her again.

"Anywho, the prince of Pylos—Peisistratus, the youngest of King Menelaus' sons—he came in just after dusk last night. Said he needed someone untouched. Said it was a gift, of sorts, for the prince of Ithaca. And the moment I thought of someone who might actually look him in the eye and not fall apart..." She gave you a sideways glance. "So I sent for you."

You gawked. "But I—I flinched. I almost cried!"

"Yes, precisely why I chose you," she said dryly, "and yet he bought your virginity the moment he left. Paid triple what we charge."

You stopped walking.

The hallway around you blurred—sunlight spilling through stained glass, footsteps echoing above, voices below, the brothel alive in every direction.

You stood frozen in the middle of it.

Prince Telemachus bought my virginity.

You touched your lips.

They still tingled.

Even then, all you could be stuck on was the fact that Telemachus was a prince.

And suddenly—everything clicked. Like someone had thrown a torch into the back of your mind and lit up the whole kingdom map.

You recalled the whispers in town. The parade of ships. The late-night feasts held at the palace people like you weren't invited to. The rising hum of change in every corner of Ithaca.

The return of King Odysseus.

And that boy—the one who kissed you like the world was ending—

"Prince Telemachus?!" you squawked again, way too loud this time.

But the madam was already halfway down the hall, waving a rag at the kitchen girl and calling for someone to bring fresh honey-water to room six.

You stood frozen, still clutching the folded parchment like it might burn you.

You looked down at it again.

The ink hadn't changed. His name was still there. The number. The seal.

All real.

And your chest—your whole body—went still.

"...So I'm free?!?" you shouted down the hall after her.

The madam didn't stop walking.

She just gave a half-smile, scoffing like you'd just asked if pigs could read.

"No one's free here, girl," she called over her shoulder. "But you're his now."

And with that, she disappeared into the steam of the bath corridor, barking something about soap and firewood.

You looked back down at the parchment.

Your fingers were shaking a little, but only because they felt lighter somehow. Like for the first time in weeks, you were holding something that might mean more than just survival.

And then—just barely—you smiled.

Because he didn't take you.

He chose you.

And maybe, just maybe...

He'd choose you again.

[innohurrytoshout]

i hope you're miserable ᥫ᭡ r. mattheo

when a misunderstanding with Filch leads to detention after school, you’re stuck babysitting Slytherin’s bad boy

who: mattheo riddle x ravenclaw!reader genre: fluff wc: 3,6k content warning: [this fic is the first part of a set, part 2 can be found at the very bottom] reader–riddle tension–matty has a crush ;) and he's a bit of a creep lol a/n: grrr this was perfect for the day i had, it was so sunny...enjoy!!

Birds cawed, and the air was growing slightly warmer–as you kicked your feet back and forth over the bridge at the edge of Hogwarts’ courtyard over the pond, your two friends were studying for the potions exam they had later today.

Your fifth year had seemed to fly past you. You meant to write to your parents about the upcoming break, but you were still deciding if you should go home or not.

“What’s that look for?” One of your friends spared you a glance.

You blew a lock of hair out of your face and shrugged, “Are you guys going home for the upcoming holiday?”

“Well, yeah.”

“My parents and I have a tradition, you know this,” your other friend butted in. She rolled her eyes, “My brother is being a pain, though.”

“Yeah, but…” a smile pressed to your lips, as easy as the light in the sky. “Don’t you just want to do something else for once? I mean, we’re always on a schedule.”

They frowned at each other, “That’s kind of expected of us, you know? You weren’t complaining when you beat Hermione last semester.” She pointed out, her blonde hair curling around her as if it were something come to life.

Your eyes rolled, and you leaned back on your hands, “That’s different. I don’t mean give up on school work completely.”

They shook their head and laughed, “Okay, sure.”

You opened your mouth to say something more, but they had already gone back to studying.

A few minutes later, the bell rang, and they had to get their things together, “wish us luck.”

You wave a hand, “Yeah, good luck…like you guys even need it.”

“Says the one with a free period.”

You snorted a laugh, “I’ll see you after school in the common room?”

“Yep! See you.” 

“Bye,” they murmured at the same time.

You watched them speed back toward campus. It was pretty warm out today, glancing around, you shrugged. Why not? You moved your bag to sit on the stony pathway and lowered your head onto the shoulder of the bridge, fixing your skirt when you were finally flat against the stone.

This is nice, you found yourself prying deep into thought. You weren’t sleeping, that would be too dangerous–but you were lost, reflecting on the world around you. It was as if time had stopped–as if questions about the universe seemed more significant than your DA quiz on Monday. But–the sun was hitting your face just right, it was shaded slightly?–wait–that wasn’t right–

You peeled an eye open, jerking back when you came face to face with Filch. “Ditching class now, are we?”

What? “No, I–”

He clicked his tongue and shook his head, “I expected better from you, Ravenclaws.”

“But I–”

“Don’t even try it. Get your things,” he motioned toward your bag beside his feet. 

You scrambled to pick yourself up, “wait–that’s not, I have–”

“You fifth years–” he scoffed, “what you’re going to say ‘I have a free period’?”

“But I do!”

“Right, only 6th and 7th years have free periods.”

“I know that,” you were starting to get a bit irritated, “but the Headmaster gave me a special cause. He gave it to a few other students this year.”

Filch halted, and you almost crashed into his back. You stepped away, making a face at his smelly robes. “You expect me to believe that?”

“...Yes.” 

“I’m not as gullible as I look, am I?”

It was useless, you would have to get Dumbledore involved. you were one of the few students who were offered a free period this year. You knew Hermione Granger had been one of the students, but it was clear by the way she seemed to rush back and forth and the way she was always studying that she had declined.

The other students were a mystery, well, you knew Draco Malfoy had one because you’d caught him in the library once. He was alone, looking solemn–to be honest, you hadn’t known he was that great of a student. You never really checked the scoreboards because you always knew you’d place high enough for your parents to get off your back.

“Listen to me!” You shouted after him as he began his marching again. He marched back to the castle while ignoring your pleas.

The next time you got a word out of him, it wasn’t directed at you– “Hey!” He’d shouted, jabbing a finger toward something.

“Stop right there!” He began chasing…something? You huffed, wondering if you’d have to follow him around for the rest of the day because he was on some silly goose chase.

“Aehehehe,” you heard his creepy laugh as you rounded the courtyard.

Filch gripped the back of someone's shirt in the open, stone hall–you snorted.

Both glanced at you when the sound echoed through the hall. Your shoes clicked as you moved closer to the scene. There in front of you was Slytherin’s esteemed prince, Mattheo Riddle, caught in the clutches of Filch. His annoyed expression said it all. He looked like a mouse caught in a cat's trap.

“What I would do for a photo of this,” you were grinning until Filch turned his attention back to you.

“You think this is funny? Well, you can join him.”

“I didn’t even do anything!” You crossed your arms.

“Skipping classes is not allowed.”

You felt your eyes rolling toward the back of your skull, “I already told you. I have a–”

“You already have one detention, you want another one?”

“But–”

“Ah-ah–”

“But!–”

“A second detention it is–”

A snort. You glared at Riddle. His cool, brown eyes met yours, a cheeky smile showing a single dimple. “Oh, you think that’s funny? You can join her!”

Filch let him go just as a groan escaped him, “I had plans later, Filchy–”

“You call me that again, it’ll be a third one for you, Riddle.”

Heh. You were smart enough to keep your amusement in your head this time.

“Come on then,” Filch cast a spell. You knew it, but you didn’t know it well–your body froze as. You could see Riddle in the corner of your peripheral vision, he was frozen, too. A second later, your body relaxed and you stumbled forward, catching yourself right before you fell.

You glanced toward Riddle, expecting him to laugh–he didn’t, but his mouth quivered, making you think he wanted to. You stuck out your tongue and spun around, readying more explanations of how this wasn’t fair–but Filch was already heading off, saying, “I’ll see you two after school.”

A hand shot out to stop him, but your words caught in your throat. Riddle began walking, and soon, he was behind you, leaning over your shoulder. " Just let him go. You won’t be able to convince him otherwise.”

“Have a lot of experience with him, do you?”

He opened his mouth, but instead of words, amusement took the form of a smile.

You started walking toward the Ravenclaw dorms, you would need to leave a note with information for your friends explaining exactly why you wouldn’t be hanging out with them this afternoon. It irked you–Filch had never given you any issues in the previous years, and he hadn’t been around much this year either.

“See you after school, Ravenclaw!” You held in the urge to shoot a curse at him as you stomped away.

She took his interest the moment he saw her. She was laughing, her head was thrown back, and she had a hand up as if she wanted to cover her smile. He didn’t want her to–Theo and the rest of his friends had paused.

He knew they had been watching him, trying to figure out what had made him stop so abruptly. They’d been walking through the second-floor halls, just coming from class with those idiotic Gryffindors, she must have just come from class as well, but she was sitting on one of the couches on the first floor, and as he’d just happened to glance over the railing, she’d caught his attention.

Her image had hit him so suddenly–at first he’d thought it was because she was pretty, but there were plenty of pretty girls in his year, so he knew that couldn’t be it. Then what?

Mattheo ignored the bubbling questions–his friends wouldn’t shut up the rest of the day, and whenever they passed her in the halls, they’d all glance at him. She never seemed to notice, though, which made him question–why?

Ravenclaws weren’t Gryffindors, they weren’t his arch nemesis–in fact, his father had mentioned something about how Ravenclaws were more similar to Slytherins than they liked to admit.

He found himself following her; he knew it was wrong and creepy, but again, neither her nor anyone ever seemed to notice–if they had, they hadn’t said anything–if they had said something, Mattheo would have heard and shut it down by now.

A huff escaped him, the sun was out–it felt nice on his face. He hadn’t planned to get caught by Filch–he hadn’t planned to follow her and her friends out there, though okay–it might not seem that way.

Draco had wanted to get some fresh air, “and by the looks of it, you could use some sun.” Lorenzo had joked, earning a back of the head smack from Pansy. Blaise had chuckled, and Mattheo had felt himself smile slightly, shaking his head–that was until Theo pointed out her and her friends.

“Isn’t that your little Ravenclaw?” 

“Don’t call her that,” Mattheo had rolled his eyes, but they landed on her–and that was–in fact–her, surrounded by her friends, but she’d looked different. Her smile wasn’t as bright–she’d looked almost…solemn.

He’d felt a pit in his stomach, he didn’t know much about Ravenclaws, he stayed very much to his home turf, but over two years, he could gather well enough to know that there was always immense pressure on them, not unlike what him and his friends had to endure from their own parents.

They’d followed them slightly, but as the Ravenclaws headed for the Hogwarts Bridge, Mattheo and his friends steered toward the forest. They had a small hideout their, they called it the Clubhouse–picked up from some muggle children’s book.

But soon, the bell had rung and they were heading back toward the school. Mattheo meant to track his friends, but then he noted the two Ravenclaws without their third member–and it occurred to him to wonder over to the bridge, just to make sure, he’d told himself.

It wasn’t just to make sure, he knew almost without doubt she would be there. He just wanted to see her–maybe this was his chance to talk to her, who would think it odd? Just two students who happened to be alone in the same place–that’s what his brain had convinced him of anyway.

Her face was calm, a complacent smile brightened by the sun hiding somewhere behind the trees that shaded her body halfway. He hadn’t realized it, but his heart began to slow. Watching her was relaxing, as he had come to know. 

Damn now he really did sound like a freak. He shook himself out of his stupor, okay, he was there, he was going to do it. He was going to talk to her–any second now–but he hadn’t moved then, and he hadn’t moved a second later, and soon it would be too late because Filch and his mangy cat appeared from seemingly nowhere and were now towering over her. 

It turned into something from a horror film. He’d watched them, laughing at her trying to explain why she wasn’t in class. He knew why, Dumbledore had offered a few fifth year students the opportunity typically only reserved for 6th years and up.

Mattheo found his amusement dying when Filch had began moving in his direction. He ran back to the castle, careful to not alert his fry-head of a cat– but it had been useless becasue Filch had seen him anyway.

He didn’t want her to know, he was afraid of what she’d think of him–afraid that she’d know just by looking that he’d been watching her. “Nervous?” He murmured, just now figuring out what it was he had been feeling. He scoffed, “No way…” but he couldn’t shake the thought, the way.

The bell for the last class rang and he sighed, sitting up. He was somewhere deep in the castle, to be hoenst, even he didn’t know how he’d found this place–it was in the attick of the castle, but Howarts had many atticks, he didn’t know which this one was, he only knew it was near Ravenclaw Tower, and no, he hadn’t planned it.

It had just been a happy coincidence, he’d found it in his second year–when Draco had finally begun to stop, “Potter this,” and, “Potter that,”–Blaise and Lorenzo called it his Pottymouth Year. A memory of them making fun of their friend lightened his heart–it made having detention two days in a row a bit easier, even though today was Friday and tomorrow was supposed to be a rest day.

Though, he’d only had detention a handful of times, he’d never been this elated, and perhaps a little Ravenclaw had something to do with it…he shook his head, wondering why his mouth was full of smiles today.

You drug your feet across Hogwarts, yawning as you made your way down the hall. The spell Filch had cast gave your subconscious the exact directions to where he wanted you to meet him after school. You had sat in the common room until the last bell rang, as soon as it rang, your body stood and began heading toward wherever Filch must have been.

Students were milling about, chattering everywhere you turned, and it lit a fire under your butt. This could have been you–it should have been you–it was going to be you–but because that dinglemutt didn’t have a clue as to his master's new proclamation, you were being unfairly punished.

You headed out toward the quad and rounded the castle, were you were going to the Quidditch field? Great–what could you possibly be doing? Cleaning gear? You whimpered just thinking about how smelly those locker rooms must be.

“Ah, she arrives.” You fisted your hands and set your mouth, but kept quiet.

“Where’s Riddle?” Your eyes floated around the grassy space, searching for the Slytherin.

“Don’t worry about him–he’ll be here.” Filch checked the time on his wand, “Now follow me.”

Mattheo was grinning. He couldn’t be grinning when he headed into the lockerooms. They were on the Slytherin/Ravenclaw side, so thankfully, he wouldn’t be cleaning some snot-nosed Gryffindor’s uniform. Mattheo shuddered at the thought–Filch couldn’t be that cruel…could he?

Best to not find out. Someone–definitely Filch–cleared his throat and stepped outside, eyeing him expectantly, “Well, go on. She can’t clean them alone, can she?”

Mattheo resisted the urge to roll his eyes and stuffed his hands in his pockets before walking in. 

She had her hair pulled back with a clip–Mattheo had never seen her like this...well, okay, he’d seen her with her hair pinned up–but she was all sweaty and her sleeves were rolled back, his eyebrows scrunched together–why was it so hot?

He clicked his tongue and shook his head, “Are you trying to off yourself before the OWLs?”

You glared, watching him pull out his wand. You bit your cheek when he cast a silent spell. You were still working on those–it peeved you and your nails dug into your palms, just another reason to hate him, you supposed.

“Why are you looking at me like that?” He cooed, beginning to unbutton his sleeves and roll them up. It seemed he’d had the same idea you had. He only wore his white uniform button-up. It was weird, seeing him without his regular attire; he looked different, though you couldn’t be sure if that was a good thing or a bad thing.

Wind hit your face, and your sweat began cooling. You paused, dropping the scrub on the space near the sink.

“It’s nice, right?” He saddled up beside you, and you stumbled back, surprised. “I don’t bite,” he frowned, looking…annoyed?

He was aware of who he was, right? Nevertheless, he didn’t…he wasn’t–you shook your head, “I’m not afraid of you, you just startled me is all.”

“Oh, really now?” He raised a brow.

“Really.” Your jaw locked. He watched as you stepped forward, standing your ground–it was cute. His frown turned into a lopsided grin, which only made you huff.

“Why aren’t you using magic?” He glanced around the room, “It’d be much easier.”

“He disabled my magic,” you frowned, looking at your wand in the side pocket of your skirt dissappointedly. Riddle craned his neck to follow your gaze, he leaned over you slightly and your heart began to pick up pace.

He smelled good, like mahogany teakwood and morning dew. You didn’t know why those two specific smells came to you–it didn’t seem right for the Dark Lord's son to smell like something as innocent as morning dew, and yet here he was.

“What?” His head turned slightly, and he was glancing down at you, his body slightly over yours. You swallowed and shoved him away, averting your gaze back onto the uniform, “are you going to stand there and help or what?”

Mattheo paused as a thought came to him. “Whose uniform is that?”

“I don’t know, why does it matter?” You picked the sponge back up, but he snatched the top from the sink before you could, “hey, you’re going to get water everywhere.” 

He waved his wand in front of your face, and you frowned. Apparently, Filch had favorites.

He glanced at the number, his shoulders relaxed a bit, and he handed it back to you. “Someone you know?” You snorted, taking back the uniform.

“You could say that.” He threw you a cheeky smile before spinning around and using his magic to clean the rest of the uniforms.

“So not fair,” you murmured, shaking your head.

“Hey, it’s not my fault you were caught skipping classes.”

“I wasn’t skipping classes!” You shouted, “I. Had. A. Free. Period.”

Riddle shrugged, “You heard what Filch said.”

“You are really starting to get on my nerves.”

He held his hands up, pressing both lips together to suppress another smile.

You ground your teeth and, without thinking, threw the sponge at him. He blinked as he bounced off his cheek. A gasp escaped you and your hands shot to cover the laughter that threatened to trickle out, “I am–” you snorted, “–shaho–” another snort, “sorry?”

Riddle’s mouth dropped open slightly, and his tongue circled the inside of it. His eyes landed on yours again, and he watched you watch him wipe the soap off his cheek. “Are you asking for a war, ?” he called you by your surname.

Your heart studded…you don’t remember ever giving him your name. “You know me?”

His amusement died instantly. “What are you talking about? I don’t.”

You raised a brow and crossed your arms, frowning, “Did you not just call me by my name?”

“I–” he stepped backward as you walked toward him, cornering him into a wall.

“You knew my name.”

“So, I know lots of people's names.”

“That a shit exuse, Riddle.”

As you got closer, you noticed something…something on his face, it was a shade redder…was he blushing? You couldn’t believe your eyes–your footsteps halted. You weren’t dumb, you could connect the dots easily enough, “Mattheo Riddle, do you have a crush on me?”

His eyes jumped out of their sockets when his head jerked up to face you again, “what–no–I”

“Mmmhmmm,” it was odd–this was a side you were certain no one had ever seen from him–he was a Riddle for Merlin’s sake–a Slytehirn–but right now he didn’t look like any of the things either of those titles were known for.

He looked different from your everyday point of view of him, he looked like…any other boy in your year, you stepped closer and, without thinking, leaned over and poked his cheek. He watched you do it, and he didn’t move. A cheesy grin spread across your face, “Mattheo Riddle, were you stalking me?”

He stayed silent, but his face darkened in color even though the locker rooms were pretty chilly now. Noise startled him out of his trance, you watched his cool facade slide over his boyish embarrassment. But it was too late, you had seen everything you’d needed to.

“Mattheo?” You recognized that voice.

“Hey, you’re here already?”

“Yep, Coach wanted us in early–we sent Draco's owl to find you–what are you doing here?”

Soon, the locker room was filled, and eyes were all on you–your lips pursed and, though you didn’t know why, you glanced at Riddle as if he were supposed to give you orders on what to do next.

Nott’s eyes widened when they found yours–soon they jumped back to Riddle’s and he jerked his body around, laughing into his elbow. You ignored Malfoy’s curious gaze and every other interested one.

“Right, you should get going now, the uniforms are cleaned so…”

“But, I,” you turned back toward the uniform you had been cleaning.

“That one’s plenty cleaned,” he walked passed you, unbuttoned the front of his shirt, and you glanced away, embarrassment clinging to your every being. You felt his friend’s eyes on you, but you kept your eyes on the ground.

“You can look now, ,” he murmured your surname. Your head jerked toward Riddle, glaring as his snort sounded throughout the room.

“That one was yours?”

He glanced down, “Isn’t it obvious?”

You scoffed and shook your head, wagging a finger at him, “Next time I see you, Riddle.” You spun around expectantly, “Well? Make some room, I can’t push through the lot of you, can I?”

As you moved through the gap created for you, Riddle called out, “See you tomorrow, Ravenclaw!”

“Screw you Slytherin!”

a/n: let me know what you think!!

vol ll kissing cherries in the rain

[dokyumms]

seventeen's reaction to you being overwhelmed !

pairings: ot13 x reader

genre: fluff, angst possibly?

word count: 1.5k

cw: bad relationship w/ parents (mingyu)

a/n: a request done for mina ( @lavoilee ) !! I FINALLY GOT IT DONE. also i decided to make this a longer one, enjoy my kings bc idk how i feel abt this. dividers by @animatedglittergraphics-n-more

seungcheol - you're so tired. you've been working nonstop, whether it be studying, working, applying for better jobs, completing projects and assignments back to back, and you can't even get a break because you have an exam coming up for your worst subject.

it feels like the world is going too fast and you're the only one who's behind. i mean, people do this all the time. why can't you keep up?you hold your head in your hands, contemplating on where to start when seungcheol walks in.

his hair is damp from showering and damn, he looks hot as hell, but you're not really paying attention to that right now.

"hey baby, did you want me to- hey, what's wrong?" he drops everything when he sees you on the couch, obviously distressed. (like literally, he dropped the towel he was using to dry his hair)

he kneels in front of you, lifting your head up so he can see your face. and ugh you just start crying. he doesn't ask you anymore after that, just joining you on the couch so he can cradle you in his arms. "it's okay baby, you're going to get through this," he whispers into your hair.

jeonghan - you just feel like going to sleep- for a really long time. you can't seem to catch a break. why did you decide to sign up for so many courses? you don't remember now.

it's been 5 hours, you haven't gotten up from your desk since you sat down, it's sunday, it's sunday NIGHT.

you groan, somehow you still have to get up at 6 in the morning tomorrow to catch the bus on time, but you can't even go to bed yet.

you're too busy caught up in your work when you feel jeonghan come up behind you. "y/n, it's late. let's go to bed," he offers gently, kissing you a kiss on the temple.

"han, i really would... i really want to..." you say, almost giving in.

"don't worry baby, just let me take care of this." he offers, and you decide an hour of rest wouldn't hurt. that hour of rest turned into 7, but it's okay! jeonghan somehow sent your professor an email for an extension?? and it worked???

joshua - he can tell just by your face that you're burnt out. he's heard you ranting to your friend about it all week, not wanting to intrude though, he's just been silently helping. but now he can see you starting to crack.

you're on the floor, project laid out, but it's not really a project. it's a large white piece of paper that's completely blank. next to it, however, there's about 7 pieces of balled up paper- your previous attempts at mapping out this floor plan for some stupid architecture thing.

you have about 2 days to plan and present it, and to make matters worse, your partners are no help, leaving you to do it alone. but you just can't.

finally, joshua sits down in front of you, putting his hands on your shoulders. "overwhelmed?" you nod and he pulls you into a hug, "it's okay, let me help you. you don't have to do this alone, love." his reassurance makes you sigh in relief, feeling some weight being lifted off your shoulders.

jun - you slam your phone on the counter, making jun and you flinch at the sudden noise. he looks at you with wide eyes, coffee cup threatening to be dropped from his hand. muttering an apology, you retire to your room.

your friend was driving you nuts about planning her wedding. at first, you accepted the challenge with open arms, but she was just so picky about everything and you didn't have a high budget. you'd just had an argument on the phone about literal napkins.

absolutely done, you flop onto your bed, trying to figure out how you're going to fix this . it's been about 10 minutes or so when you hear your door creak open. you pop your head up to see jun, poking his head through the door before his hand pops out as well with a cup of tea.

honestly it's so cute that you let him in with no question.

"minghao said this might help," he explains, putting the cup on your nightstand. he's about to walk away, but you grab his wrist, "stay for a little, please?" he seems genuinely shocked, frozen in place, so you have to drag him onto the bed. "sorry, you just looked really mad," he apologizes sheepishly.

hoshi - you're so lost. you're at practice with your dance team and you can't keep up with any of the choreography since you were sick the day before.

you can tell the other members are getting frustrated, but they can't really get mad, so they just sigh and give you some pointers.

by the time practice ends, everyone is tired, but it's mainly because of how many times you had to redo the parts you missed. you feel terrible about it, so you decide to make it up by staying to practice.

but lord, you just don't get it and the impending doom of the upcoming performance starts to dawn on you. sweaty and tired, you sink down against the mirror until you're sitting down. you don't know how you're going to catch up at this rate, but then the door opens.

hoshi strides in, "y/nnnn i'm here to pick you up, let's go home," but when he sees you in your position he kneels down in front of you.

"it's your choreo, isn't it?" he asks, as if he's read your mind. you nod sadly, and he hums like he's trying to figure out what to do. all of the sudden, he gets up, pulling you with him. "well you don't have an idol as your boyfriend for no reason, right? don't worry, i'll help you,"

wonwoo - wonwoo's full of worry when he comes near your door to hear your quiet sobs. he knocks on the door, "y/n? are you okay?" and doesn't really give you time to respond before entering.

you're on the ground, knees held up to your chest, head down with a laptop opened in front of you.

"babe? what's going on?" he asks, giving you a hug before turning your computer towards him so he can try to detective his way into finding out the answer, frowning when he reads the screen.

oh- you'd just lost your job. he doesn't ask any further questions, shutting the laptop and giving you a hug. you'd already gone through enough in the past month, it wasn't fair.

"you can break up with me, you know," you whisper, having the sudden feeling that he deserves better.

"y/n, what are you saying? i'm not going to leave you, not like this."

and he doesn't, holding you in his arms like you're the most valuable thing in the world.

woozi - when your teacher emails you about how you're missing another assignment, you just lose it.

yes, of course you're missing another assignment when your teacher has spent the entire week just absolutely spamming you with assignments and projects like they don't take at least an hour to complete.

you slam your head on your desk, a little too hard for your liking, making you wince. jihoon hears the noise, walking over to your room to find your head still planted on the table.

sighing, he walks over and grabs a pillow off your bed. "up." he says, making you raise your head from the desk in confusion. he puts the pillow under you.

"you're going to hurt yourself by doing that," he explains, making you roll your eyes, but you place your head on the pillow anyway. suddenly, he gives you a peck on the cheek before walking away without saying anything. you forget about your assignment, confused and cheeks flushing.

dk - babysitting is not for the weak. your friend asked you to watch her kids while she attends a wedding, it seemed easy enough at the time, but now you're stuck in the living room with 3 demons running around.

to be honest, you've never been good around kids, and today was no exception. all your patience has ran out the window by now and you're just praying for your friend to go home.

you don't even know what to do with them- they're loud and active, practically jumping all over the place. your head is starting to hurt when seokmin enters the house.

at first, he laughs at your condition, but then gives you an empathetic look.

"don't worry baby, i got this," he tells you reassuringly before giving you a kiss on the forehead and taking over as the kids' favorite uncle.

mingyu - after you and your parents argue back and forth on the phone for an hour, they finally hang up, calling you a disappointment right before, of course. you're so tired, it's like you can't please them with anything at this point.

you walk out of your room to get some water, trying to calm down. mingyu's in the kitchen, looking up at you when you walk in.

he stops chopping vegetables to give you a hug.

"doing okay? i heard you in the room, babe," he asks into your shoulder.

"yeah, just my parents," you sigh, letting him sway you two back and forth. the more you think about it, the more you feel like crying, lifting your head and blinking aggressively to stop the tears.

"no, don't do that," he says, holding your face, "it's okay, don't hold it, y/n." he urges, touching your forehead with his.

the8 - minghao frowns when he sees you looking blankly at your laptop and on the verge of tears. he comes up behind you to see that you have like 100 tabs open, all on various assignments.

simply closing your laptop, he gives you a back hug, "we're going,"

you turn to him, looking miserable but he doesn't budge.

"it'll make you feel better, trust me," he pushes. reluctantly, you let him drag you off the couch.

he takes you to a gazebo, it's a short walk from your apartment, but you never noticed it till now. you admire the scenery, there's lights strung around it and there's virtually no one there, giving you and him some privacy.

taking your hand in his, he looks at you, "it's pretty, right?" you nod in response, giving him a small smile. it's really just what you needed, being just with him surrounded by warm lights.

seungkwan - he’s just like “nope, we’re not doing that” when he sees you on the ground next to some papers and a giant binder, but more importantly, with blood shot eyes.

but what else are you supposed to do? you have 3 days to finish 2 different projects and you’re close to spiraling at this point.

“hey, babe, look at me,” he kneels in front of you.

“it’s going to be okay,” he reassures you, despite having no idea why you’re on the ground in the first place. hugging you tightly, he vows to destroy your professors, because who else would be causing you this much trouble?

vernon - you should be asleep by now, but you’ve spent the last 2 hours in bed, wide awake. staring at the ceiling, you contemplate your life. you’ve got family matters, stupid friend drama, and work issues to deal with.

vernon’s asleep beside you, breathing softly. man, he’s so perfect, and honestly your relationship is the only thing keeping you afloat right now.

you shuffle around a bit more, fighting invisible demons when you feel vernon pulling you close to him.

“what’re you doing awake?” he mumbles, yawning.

“just the usual, regretting my life decisions,”

“it’s too late for that, babe. you should sleep on it and we can talk about it tomorrow,” he mutters sleepily. he probably didn’t even process anything you were saying, but his calm demeanor is reassuring, luring you to sleep.

dino - “y/n~ it’s okay~ don’t be sad~” chan sings while back hugging you, obviously panicked when he walks in to find you crashing out at the counter.

your manager has just yelled at you for the dumbest thing ever right after your mom lectured you for something that wasn’t your fault, and you hate when people yell at you. so naturally, you start crying.

honestly, he’s got no idea what’s going on, and his only goal is to make you feel better. he keeps singing comically, but when he realizes it isn’t doing anything, he guides you toward the couch.

spooning you, he apologizes for no reason out of sheer panic, “okay, babe i’m really sorry, i know i’m not the best singer, just tell me what’s wrong?”

[tossawary]

Cracky SVSSS Canon Divergence AU: Shang Qinghua (Airplane Bro) gets it into his head to try and "fix" Qijiu's relationship in order to 1) make his own work life easier and also 2) hopefully avert the ruthless destruction of Cang Qiong Mountain Sect by distracting Shen Qingqiu away from being a real piece of shit whenever the protagonist finally shows up. (Luo Binghe isn't here yet.)

Unfortunately, he gets this idea because he accidentally slept with Yue Qingyuan. It was during a late budgetary meeting. They'd both been slightly drunk. Yue Qingyuan had been sad and Shang Qinghua had been sad AND horny. It was a "bro helping another bro out" kind of thing! Shang Qinghua still can't really believe it happened. But it can't happen again! Bad idea!

Shang Qinghua encounters Shen Qingqiu in a brothel with half a plan on how to start unraveling that much damage, only... uh... Well, Shen Qingqiu got the wrong idea about what Shang Qinghua wanted from him, and Shang Qinghua's favorite type unfortunately happens to be "scary and mean and very pretty". Fuck! He accidentally slept with Shen Qingqiu too!

So, okay, back to Yue Qingyuan, who will definitely be the more reasonable person to talk to, because he hides all of his massive trauma like a polite person! Oh, shit, Yue Qingyuan is pretty hot, isn't he? And is coming on to Shang Qinghua again for a casual fuck... and whoops, the bad idea happened again! Fuck! When Shang Qinghua tries to have a productive conversation afterwards, Yue Qingyuan even confides in him a little. Yeah, bro, it IS super obvious that you're totally hung up on Shen Qingqiu, and oh, shit, you are NEVER going to make the first move, are you?

Okay, maybe "fixing" these guys is just not possible. Mistakes! He has made them! Shang Qinghua is just going to stay out of things moving forward. He's going to avoid them now! Oh, shit, Shen Qingqiu wants to know why Shang Qinghua was staring at him in that meeting and is slamming against a wall and- uh. Oh, wow. That's hot.

"Both of them?" Mobei-Jun says later, too bemused to be jealous. (Moshang aren't a thing yet. Maybe not ever a thing like that in this AU. Demons also have different societal conventions even so.)

"BOTH OF THEM!" Shang Qinghua wails, lying facedown on the floor of his house. He doesn't know why he's actually venting to Mobei-Jun, but he has NO ONE ELSE. He's getting SO well laid, sure, but the constant nagging feeling that he's going to get maimed this way is really putting a damper on the sex. Qijiu really, truly, honestly do NOT know that he's sleeping with both of them. "What is wrong with these people?! Why is their taste so bad? I made everything so much worse..."

"Stop fucking them then," Mobei-Jun suggests, as helpful as ever, which is not helpful at all. Mobei-Jun has never been helpful to anyone in his life. When he's not mildly annoyed by it, he thinks this shit is hysterically funny.

[wwaheoh]

“Falling Asleep on The Job” - Victoria Housekeeping x gnReader (Platonic)

Alexandrina Sebastiane, Corin Wickes, Ellen Joe, Von Lycaon

a/n: writing this at 2 am but unlike the reader, i dont have a ghost milf to be there when i wake up...

As the newest member of Victoria Housekeeping, it had been a bit of a shaky transition. Still in high school, you’ve had to juggle your studies, hobbies, and your part time job all at once, it was a lot to hold on to- not even mentioning any extracurriculars or social life you might have.

So, all in all, pretty stressful. Especially now, coming back from your break, it seemed like the teachers were all trying to one-up each other on how many pages of homework they’d give. It had all begun to affect your wellbeing, always trying your best to give it your all, hours of studying began to dig into your sleep time.

An hour or two into the night began to become going to sleep at 4 AM or even just not sleeping at all and staying up through energy drinks.

After a particularly hard week- where you hadn’t slept at all last night and barely slept the day before that, you finally broke.

Shadows under your eyes, sweaty arms, twitchy hands, legs that felt like lead, and a light pressure on your forehead. You had been put on shift to help clean up a house, the usual stuff, thankfully nothing with any underlying “help” required.

As you were sweeping dust off a windowsill, you began to feel the familiar wave of tiredness wash over you. Muscles felt exhausted, a yawn threatening to escape you. Deciding to sit on a nearby chair to rest a little, you began to be lulled into a deep slumber. Head bobbing, eyelids drooping down- a desperate but ultimately futile attempt at staying awake.

And then you conked out.

Slowly you woke up, blur in your eyes that you had to blink away a few times before your vision cleared. You were turned horizontally- actually you weren’t where you had accidentally fallen asleep in the first place!

Immediately you rushed to get up, “Oh shi-!” before a mature, warm voice softly hushed you, a gloved hand slowly drifted you back down and set your head down on something soft.

Looking up, you saw Ms. Sebastiane looking down on you, a soft smile on her face as she pet your hair. From the lighting of the room, it was clear some time had passed. Meaning that you’d fallen asleep on the job.

“I-I’m so sorry Miss!” You let out, mortified at having fallen asleep- especially with how often housekeeping wasn’t the only thing Victoria Housekeeping did. Something terrible could have happened- and while there were other members of the company here, you would have been a liability.

“It’s okay dear,” She started with her usual caring tone, “You’ve been pretty out of it recently, Ms. Ellen told us of how your shared academics might be affecting your quality of life.” Her hands brushed softly against your hair, a spell of sleep beginning to overtake you once more. “It’s not wrong to ask for some time off, your health matters most.”

“Go back to sleep, I shall awake you once it is time for us to head back.”

You relaxed, her lap being used as a pillow as she let you sleep until it was time to go back home.

Something soft underneath the side of your head, you were lying down now- different to how you slept. Oh! You fell asleep! Quickly rushing to get up with a few expletives, a timid voice called out to you, “Uhm! You don’t need to get up!”

Looking at the source of the voice, you realized that you had fallen asleep on the job, leaving your coworker, Corin, all by her lonesome. Or at least on this side of the premises.

“Ah, I’m so sorry Corin!” You quickly tried to fix the couch you had been moved to, arranging the pillows and patting the cushions to make it seem as if no one had been sleeping on it.

“N-no! It’s fine!” You turned to her, confused but hopeful that she wasn’t just saying that to calm you down. “Uhm, I heard about how school’s been pretty tough, Ellen- I mean no one told us how it might be affecting you. You can rest for now! I’ll uhm, wake you up when I need help!”

You were thankful for her, worried that she’d be angry that you basically ditched her for sleep. Of course she probably wouldn't be that angry- she never got mad at Ellen whenever she slept on the job, but it was still a thought in the back of your head. Nodding, you sat back onto the couch as the feeling of drowsiness began to take hold again.

“Sweet uhm, dreams!” Corin whispered, worried that it wasn’t the right thing to say or not in the right context.

Slowly waking, you were still vertically sleeping, however where you had fallen asleep had changed. Quickly you got up, looking around for an indication of the time or Ellen, your coworker- and classmate, who you were partnered with for this part of the premises. It didn’t seem like she was around, but that begged the question of who moved you…

“Oi,”, You nearly yelped as you quickly turned to the person you hadn’t noticed, “Don’t move so fast… you woke me up.”

It.. seemed Ellen had the same problem you did, it made sense, the both of you did share multiple classes.

“Uhm-” “If you’re worried about waking up before the client gets here, don’ worry, I’ll wake you up.” “Oh! Uh, thank you.” “Mm…”

She promptly fell right back to sleep, with you following shortly after.

Slowly your eyes blinked open. You felt as if you just had the best sleep of your life. A soft pillow under your head, a warm blanket covering you, a homey scent of a candle nearby. Oh my gods you fell asleep at work and were acting like you were at home- hell even better than home.

You began to scramble out of this makeshift bed before a gloved hand firmly set itself on your shoulder. Turning to the owner, your heart stopped as you came face to face with your boss.

Quickly tears began to form at the edge of your eyes, mortification at having fallen asleep on the job and waking up in front of your boss. A therian that prided themselves on keeping a professional atmosphere and providing top-notch service to their “Master”s.

“I- I’m so-”

“Shh.. it’s of no trouble.”

God, was he going to fire you after this?

“No, I will not. Please, I’ve been informed of your recent academics and how they might be affecting your work-life balance.” He interrupted any other thoughts you might have had, as if he were reading your mind. “While I prefer you not to fall asleep while we are keeping the home of our Masters, I won’t be upset for minor inconvenience.” His voice was warm, deep, with a voice that seemed to lull you back to sleep.

“Now rest, I will awake you once the Master is due to arrive.”

[liahaslosthermind]

𝐀𝐛𝐨𝐮𝐭 𝐃𝐚𝐦𝐧 𝐓𝐢𝐦𝐞!

Azriel x Historiographer!reader Summary: Azriel and his mate tried to tell his family about their mating bond. Unfortunately, arsonist nephews, tired (and frankly, scared) generals with a single eyebrow, and stressed out parents made the task seemingly impossible. Warnings: Inner Circle is obtuse, Nyx is vengeful, Rhys is kinda an asshole A/N: Reader’s job has little to nothing to do with the story, I just hate using “y/n” so I come up with loopholes to address the reader without using it. 

It had been 3 months since the Spy Master of the Night Court and Velaris’ Head Historiographer had stopped dancing around their feelings, 2 months since the mating bond had snapped between the two, and approximately 1 hour since they decided to tell their family. 

“They will be excited for us, my love.” She cooed, trying to fix the perpetual frown that adorned her mate’s face. “They will be annoying of course, they always are,” she grumbled, “but they will be happy. And they will finally stop worrying about whether or not you are going to die alone.” She teased, combing through Azriel’s hair as she tried to push it back, a style he hated but she absolutely loved. 

“I don’t see why we have to make it a thing.” Azriel replied, fixing his hair the second her hands left his head.

“A thing? You mean our mating bond? The one you prayed for every single day of your 500 year long life? You don’t want to make telling the most important people in your life into a thing?” 

“I just thought… maybe a surprise mating ceremony would be better.”

“Azriel, how do you think that will play out? ‘Surprise, we are mates and this is our mating ceremony! But don’t make it a big deal, we don’t want it turning into a thing!’” 

“Well, at the end of the ceremony we will disappear and go on vacation before they can say anything. That way they have time to cool down and we get to have a nice relaxing time together without their antics.” Azrel justified, or at least tried to.

The small smile that adored his lips while thinking about said vacation instantly dropped when she started laughing at him. 

“And what do you think will happen when we get back? If they don’t manage to crash our honeymoon just to get answers, then there will certainly be hell to pay when we come home. And I promise, it will end up being a much bigger thing than if we just told them tonight at dinner.” 

Azriel grumbled in response. She was right, of course, but it didn’t mean he looked forward to telling their family. He wasn’t ashamed of her, nor of the bond between them, how could he be? But Azriel never liked attention, it’s why his work was so perfect for him. But his family… they were nosy. They would make it a big deal and while, quite frankly, it was a big deal, Azriel wasn’t looking forward to the show. 

Fortunately for him, the Inner Circle was also far too obtuse at times, though this time it wasn’t really their fault.

Feyre and Rhysand had recently discovered that Nyx could Winnow. This happened about a month prior when Feyre went to wake her son up from his nap and found his cradle to be empty. After 45 minutes of panicked searching alongside Rhys, Mor, Elain, Lucien, Cassian, Nesta, Azriel, and a few of the priestesses, Feyre found her son in the arms of Amren, who had discovered him in front of her apartment door an hour prior. 

Baby Nyx loved his aunt Amren more than anyone else, much to the chagrin of his parents and the rest of their family. 

In the past month, various wards had been implemented to stop the High Lord and Lady’s child from disappearing again, but they have also had to deal with the various other abilities that seemingly manifested since. 

When Azriel and his mate finally made it to dinner, Cassian had one eyebrow and an already healing burn, Mor was missing a couple inches of hair that had seemingly been singed off, both Feyre and Rhys had eyebags like never before, and a very content Nyx was sat on the lap of a gloating Amren. 

“I hope we didn’t miss all the fun!” the historiographer joked, hoping to lighten the tense mood in the dining room. 

“Oh, you missed the show, but I’d be more than happy to recount the details for you.” Nesta spoke up, cackling when she looked at her one-eyebrowed mate who hadn’t stopped pouting since the incident. 

As the two late comers sat down and started to eat, the tension in the room didn’t cease. In fact, it seemed to get worse every time Nesta broke out into giggles when looking at Mor and Cassian. 

After far too many seconds of painful silence, Azriel received a kick on the leg from his mate. Looking at her, she hissed what he assumed to be a few “encouraging” words about him growing a pair. 

After taking a deep breath, Azriel cleared his throat, gaining the attention of the entire table. 

“We have been meaning to talk to you all about something. Now, I know things around here have been… rather tense. But hopefully this good news will-”

“One second-” The High Lord interrupted as a note appeared before him. Upon reading the missive, he groaned before passing it to Feyre, the letter eliciting the same reaction from her as well. “Madja got us in touch with a healer who specializes in High Fae child development. He says that this thing with Nyx is normal at this stage, especially with powerful parents, and that the powers displayed might not even stay. It's like the Mother is testing which abilities Nyx will have, and we haven’t even gotten to the worst of it yet.” Rhysand grumbled, his hand going through his uncharacteristically unruly hair. 

“Well when the two most powerful fae in Prythian love each other very much…” Mor started. 

“They curse the rest of their family by creating the most vengeful baby the world has ever seen.” Cassian hissed. After a kick on the shin from Feyre, and a smack on the chest from Nesta, he quickly added, “Not that we don’t love you Nyx. You are the light of all our lives and blah blah blah.” After an additional glare from Rhys, Cassian yelled: “He can’t even understand me! It's not like he knows what I am-” the general abruptly stopped talking when his salad caught on fire, causing the baby on Amren’s lap to start laughing. 

After the Shadows made quick work out of putting out the fire, Azriel spoke up once more, “As I said, I know you all have a lot going on right now-”

“No kidding.” Nesta interrupted. “I keep having to fight the camp lords to allow my Valkyrie to compete in the Blood Rite and I swear every time I bring it up they find new ways to make our life harder.” 

“I am sorry to hear that Nesta, but like Azriel said I think this news will-”

“The Illyrians are a backwards group that won’t respond to being asked to change their ways. I keep telling Rhysand he needs to be harder on them.” Azriel interrupted his mate. She would have been more upset had she not known how sore of a subject Illyrians and their beliefs were for her mate. 

“Azriel, we have discussed this before. You are letting your hatred of them get in the way of logical thinking. They won’t respond to abrupt changes either, you need to let me do my job.” Rhysand argued. 

Before Azriel could argue back, he felt a supportive squeeze on his hand from the female beside him, gently guiding him back on track. “Look, I am not here to discuss Illyria. If you all could just stay silent for a moment then-” 

Fire seized Cassian’s shoulder, most likely in response to the lighthearted glares he had been sending his nephew. While the leathers protected his skin from the heat, a chunk of his long brown locks had not been as fortunate. 

“Alright, clearly this isn’t working out for Nyx. It’s past his bedtime anyway, maybe we should call it quits.” Feyre spoke up, sending an apologetic look to Cassian. 

“If you all would give me just a moment-” Azriel started.

“Look, it's been stressful around here for us, Az. I promise I will listen to whatever shit you need to complain or argue about another day.” Rhysand interrupted. While the silence that followed would have given Az the opportunity to correct his brother’s, rather rude, assumption, his mate stopped him before he could speak up. 

“You know what, you’re right, tonight isn’t the night for any family discussions. We wouldn’t want to bother you all with our lives. Have a good night.” In the many years Rhysand had known the Head Historiographer of his court, and the many years since they had become friends- almost family, he had never heard her speak in such a tone. But before anyone else could get a word in, her and Azriel had disappeared into the shadows. 

Back at her apartment, Azriel watched as his mate, seething in anger, paced in front of the fireplace. 

“I cannot believe he really insinuated all you were trying to do was argue or complain when you specifically said it was good news! What a childish, egotistical, brat!” 

“My love, he is going through a lot with Nyx right now-”

“That does NOT give him the right to talk to you like that! If he were to speak to Cassian that way, Nesta would have bitten his head off. I mean how many times had he lost it when Nesta and Feyre fought? Gods, I should have really laid it on him. It is totally unacceptable that he-” Her impassioned rant was suddenly cut off by an equally as passionate kiss. 

Suddenly, she couldn’t have cared less about what the High Lord had to say. All that existed in that moment was her and her mate. 

When the two separated, all negative emotions had been depleted, the only care being the golden string that attached one soul to the other.  

“How about this,” Azriel spoke, still breathless from the kiss the two had shared, “We can make a game out of it. We tried telling them, how about now we just make it as obvious as possible without explicitly stating anything, and see how long it takes them to figure it out.” He suggested.

“And if they are truly too obtuse to catch on?” She asked.

“We can give them the time it takes to plan a proper mating ceremony. If by then they still haven’t figured it out, then we can go with my original plan. That way they can’t be upset because it would be their fault for not catching on, and we get to have fun.” 

“A part of me kind of hopes they don’t catch on now.” She giggled. 

“Oh, trust me, unless we spell it out for them, they won’t know a thing.” Azriel replied. 

A/N: I have ideas for part two, but I also have 1,000 other ideas and projects half written, so let me know if you would like a sequel!

Edit: Read Part 2 here!

[soobnny]

dating him | bang chan

❝ have i told you how beautiful you look this morning? ❞

CHAN | lee know | changbin | hyunjin | han | felix | seungmin | jeongin

chan as ur bf wow congratulations

it’s giving strangers to lovers if i’m being fr

u just meet on a random tuesday like nothing out of the ordinary

conversation is made and for SOME reason, chan always feels the cogs in his head stop turning when he’s talking to u

like it feels like he’s constantly on the run all the time so how come with u it’s so different

what did u do to him

well wtvr long story short, he FELL

fell hard

now he’s ur bf

ok hear me out

perk #1: unlimited supply of his hoodies

he’d love it too .. when u wear his hoodie

doesn’t even try to act upset or bothered that u’re stealing his clothes

sometimes he’s the one to even put it on ur bed so u can wear it after u shower

or when u’re coming home from the dorm and when u open ur bag .. oh! his hoodie!

“ah, i must’ve misplaced it 😅😅😅”

yeaaaaaaaaah sure

sure u misplace the hoodie in ur very pink bag instead of his black bag

u’re not very slick christopher bang

u don’t mind tho

his hoodies are always xxxxl in size and it smells like him

perk #2: u have ur own man wife

that man knows how to do everything

he can fix ur sink, build u a table, put oil on ur doorknobs so they don’t harden, can clean, like what can’t he do

have u seen hometown cha cha cha? he’s giving very Chief Hong in his skills

(minho does too but we’ll talk about him in his post)

oh, did i mention he can cook too

one of his favorite little mini dates is when u just go thru cookbooks together

and then … cook

i’m sorry this man is a sucker for domestic things like this

and cooking together means u also grocery shop together

a fun challenge he made up is where u pick up random ingredients and try to make something decent out of it

maaaaaan he’s just giving husband

anyways back to cooking

imagine him in the kitchen right

and he’s tasting something new he made

ofc u’re curious too cos wow whatever the hell he’s making smells and looks good

when you try to ask him if you can taste it, he’d KISS you

“how do you like it? 😏😏😏”

😳😳😳😳

he’s getting bold

he does strike me as shy at first in relationships

and then when u’re together for long, u’re like damn this man kinda freaky

perk #3: his dog

berry loves u

like sometimes even more than chan

(it’s bc u give her extra treats when u can)

u walk his dog together early in the morning

it’s kind of become routine

u’d just get out of bed with messy hair and still in ur pajamas while chan is perfectly ready bc he loves waking up early when he can

u don’t even care that u look like a mess

bc chan always reminds u how beautiful u are every morning

so … messy hair and pajamas … putting the leash on berry and walking outside

it’d just be quiet mostly on the walk

there’s no need for conversation with chan sometimes

chan would say he finally knows what peace means after meeting u

his favorite scene ever is coming home and finding u asleep on the couch with berry

he has a million pictures of that on ur phone

like different days, same scene

sets it as his lockscreen even

on nights u can spend together, u enjoy watching cringy christmas movies w him

cue recreating the scenes

except it’s a massive failure bc both of u just can’t stop laughing

u especially love those christmas movies one

“I DONT HAVE A TWIN WE CANT RECREATE THE PRINCESS SWITCH”

u end up just falling asleep together

ofc not without cuddling and intimate kisses

chan finds he sleeps easier bc of u

he used to always find it so difficult to fall asleep before

so how come it’s as easy as closing his eyes now

btw u two most probably have promise rings

and he most probably wears it as a necklace

and he loves hugging u from behind

chan loves being able to nuzzle his cheek on ur back and hold u

he’d probably do that thing where u’re unaware and then BAM a pair of arms around ur waist

his chin on ur shoulder

oh Wow….. wow i just made myself crazy thinking about that

he’d lean in to kiss ur neck or ur chin bc it’s closest access

and he’d just look at whatever the hell u’re doing

chan loves looking at u

does that sound creepy

he just loves observing u ok !!!!!!

esp when u’re doing something u love

his heart goes 💗💞💕💕💝💘💖💞💓💓

bc that’s his baby

he just adores u tbh

u could just be standing there and chan’s looking at u with heart eyes

anyways whatever CONGRATULATIONS

u guys will probably last forever bc he’s whipped and so in love

he’s giving me the More In Love vibe

like when he falls, he FALLS

happy 4 u

note. credits to user @.luvknow for the layout of this post! let me know what you think! please discuss these with me i’m crazy