#...also conveniently the side she was injured on... | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

jayflrt · 1 year ago

Text

the misfortunes and misconceptions of lee heeseung

❝ i'll let you in on a little secret: wanting nothing to do with y/n starts with actually wanting nothing to do with her. ❞

PAIRING ▸ slytherin!heeseung x hufflepuff!fem!reader

GENRES ▸ fluff, crack, hogwarts au, idiots to lovers au

WARNINGS ▸ profanity, the classic amortentia trope because what screams valentine's day like love potions, heeseung is down horrendous, sunghoon missing half an eyebrow, jake is babygirl, lots of catastrophizing, minor bending of canon for plot convenience, and a kiss scene of course

SUMMARY ▸ by no means does lee heeseung hold any romantic feelings toward you. the mere possibility is jarring, considering his luck seems to take a turn for the worst whenever he’s around you. from getting hit with a bludger during quidditch to getting into trouble with filch for setting off dungbombs in his office, heeseung starts to think you’re some sort of bad omen. he’s prepared for disaster when you two become partners in potions, but why does the amortentia smell like you?

WORD COUNT ▸ 13,497 words

PLAYLIST ▸ lavender kiss by the licks

AUTHOR’S NOTE ▸ this is jayflrt's valentine for you ♡

LEE HEESEUNG WAS CERTAIN YOU MUST HAVE HAD AN AFFINITY FOR NEARLY KILLING HIM REGULARLY.

When he, Slytherin’s prized Seeker, got knocked off his broom by a bludger, there was only one potential suspect he could narrow the crime down to in his head.

In your hand was the very bat that sent the bludger in his way, hitting his miserable self square in the gut.

This seemed to be a pattern between the two of you, where it was mostly Heeseung experiencing great misfortune because of the Hufflepuff’s mere existence. His best friend, Park Jongseong, told him that he had probably wronged you in a past life for him to suffer this much around you. While Heeseung initially brushed it off as a joke, he couldn’t help but start to question if it was actually true.

Back in his first year, Heeseung met you during the Sorting Hat ceremony, where you accidentally tripped him right before he walked up to get sorted. Everyone in the Grand Hall laughed at him, which was not his idea of a welcoming initiation into Slytherin, so he glared holes into the back of your head for the rest of the year.

In his third year, you ran into him at King’s Cross station, causing all of his trunks to go flying. While you were helping him repack everything, you two realized that the Hogwarts Express was long gone, and neither of you could even access the magical entryway to Platform Nine and Three-Quarters. Heeseung cried into his hands at the train station until a professor Apparated to pick them both up, and then you teased him about his tears for what felt like forever.

In a similar sense, Heeseung had somehow always managed to get into trouble when he was around you. Now, he had naturally grown out of disliking you for causing him so much suffering (mostly because he was far more popular now and everyone had forgotten about how you sent him flying during a duel, unfortunately revealing his strawberry-patterned boxers to an entire room of second and third years), but Heeseung was still wary about the adversity that seemed to follow you.

Were you a friend? Heeseung couldn’t tell for sure. You two spent an awfully long amount of time together, but you both also had your separate friend groups that hardly intermingled. Heeseung supposed you were more of a thorn in his side that hurt more when he tried to yank it out.

Now, there was nothing left for him to do now but clutch his stomach in pain and pray that he didn’t need to spend another night in the infirmary because of you. (Madam Pomfrey started to keep a tally; “Oh, Miss L/N didn’t injure you again, did she? Have a toffee, sweetheart,” was what he was expecting to hear from the school nurse.)

“Heeseung! Are you okay?” you asked, running up to him with your other hand clutching your broom. Thankfully, Heeseung had managed to grip his broom with one hand on the way down until he had safely landed, so there were no damages to his Moontrimmer. “Who did this to you?!”

“I know you’re holding the bat behind your back, Y/N,” he got out through gritted teeth.

He watched as you let your arm fall defeatedly to your side, revealing the Beater’s bat that violated practically every safety protocol.

“Oh, how embarrassing,” Kim Minjeong, the Chaser for the Slytherin team, said with a giggle from behind her palm. She was still floating a few feet from the ground, witnessing the damage done from her broom. Heeseung glared up at her. “Not a good look for you, Captain.”

Normally, he would shut Minjeong up with his usual threat that went something along the lines of putting a curse on her bloodline. This time, however, Heeseung was in far too much pain and humiliation to come up with a witty comeback.

Madam Hooch came running across the field to see what happened to her star Quidditch player. On the bright side, Heeseung knew that you wouldn’t get in trouble because game was game; you were just doing what you needed to ensure your victory, even though Slytherin still had a huge lead on Hufflepuff. After momentary deliberation, however, Heeseung realized that the bright side should have been the fact that he was still alive. Why was he thinking about you, anyway? He would pay galleons to see you get in trouble—but not too much trouble (and Merlin’s beard, he was far too soft).

“He needs to be taken to the infirmary,” Madam Hooch said. She spared you a glance before making a shooing motion with her gloved hand. By this time, his friends (Park Sunghoon, a sixth year who Heeseung ‘adopted’ in his second year, and Yang Jungwon, a broody fourth year with a penchant for rule-breaking) had come running down the stands and across the field. “You can visit him after you finish the match, Y/N. Madam Pomfrey can handle this.”

“Yes, of course,” you murmured, turning to Heeseung again and muttering a pathetic apology, to which he cracked a grin at. Maybe he shouldn’t have been grinning since you nearly cracked his skull open, or maybe he had really lost it this time.

“It’s only been a week since you’ve managed to nearly get me killed.” Heeseung shuddered at the memory of you accidentally setting his cloak on fire last week with a Blasting Charm. “Don’t worry. I knew something was gonna happen sooner or later.”

Words of affirmation weren’t exactly his strong suit.

But upon seeing the awkward grin on your face, like a blast of light that hit him all at once, Heeseung was suddenly painfully aware of everything—the awfully pleasant scent of lavender wafting from you, the searing ache from his injury, the way your hair framed your face, and the cool metal balled in his fist.

Wait—metal?

Before he was about to be carried out in a not-so-dignified manner, Heeseung raised his arm to open his palm, revealing the Golden Snitch that sat obediently, fanning its wings out once before closing again. A gasp rose from the crowd, and then the shocked looks from both teams followed. Minjeong nearly fell off her broom. The Slytherin house all but exploded in cheers after Madam Hooch gaped at the sight, fumbled for her whistle, blew it loudly, and then announced Slytherin’s victory over Hufflepuff.

Heeseung sighed in relief and fully collapsed onto the ground, looking up at the clear sky with contentment lifting the anguish from his brows. And now that he knew the verdict of the match, the pain finally hit him all at once, and he hoped Madam Pomfrey could fix him up before his house started celebrating their triumph.

“Heeseung! That was an incredible play!” Nishimura Riki, a fourth year Gryffindor, cried as he came running from the stands. If by incredible, he was referring to Heeseung getting bludgeoned to the ground, then sure, incredible—outstanding, even. The flash of Riki’s camera went off, capturing a pathetic-looking Heeseung lying limp on the springy turf. “This’ll definitely make the front page!”

Ever since the Nishimura kid got an internship at the Daily Prophet, the Slytherin team had been worried about appearing on the news unprompted—most likely in unflattering angles, too. It had even gotten to the point of Song Eunseok pinning up a poster of Riki to a corkboard in the locker room, as if he was a wanted criminal at large.

“Er, could we retake—”

“You grab his legs,” a voice from behind him ordered. It was Sunghoon, who had come running with Jungwon to carry him out of the field. “I’ll take his arms.”

Heeseung balked. “Guys, wait!”

But it was no use. He was already in the air, and Jungwon and Sunghoon were both ignoring his protests.

As if he was a rather sad sack of potatoes, Heeseung was carried out, body dangling and his eyes screwed shut as he heard more flashes of Riki’s camera going off. Most of all, he wondered if you caught sight of how pitiful he was. Surely, you found it hilarious, didn’t you? He was certain he would get teased endlessly in Charms next week.

“Nice game, champ,” Jungwon commented oh-so-casually, and Heeseung’s blood started boiling.

“Can you put me down already?! We have magic for a reason!” he blurted out, but his two friends ignored him all the same.

“I saw Sunoo being carried out like this the other day outside of the Dueling Club meeting room,” Sunghoon mused, and Heeseung imagined the poor Slytherin also being hauled to the infirmary like a ragdoll. “I heard he got hit with a nasty Disarming Charm. Someone nearly blasted the poor guy right into the Clock Tower’s pendulum.”

“I know. He’s better at dodging than I thought,” Jungwon replied unsympathetically. “What a shame. I’ll get him next time.”

Heeseung blanched. Poor Kim Sunoo.

But then he remembered his current state and thought Sunoo was better off than him. At least Sunoo wasn’t carried out in front of the entire school.

Really, the reason why Heeseung was so agitated was because being Slytherin’s Seeker meant that he had an important role. It was a responsibility that clearly set him apart, and it surely had to look impressive to others—for example, you—but here he was, being carried out of the Quidditch pitch like an idiot. It put all of his hard work and countless hours of practice to shame.

Thankfully, although his failing jock status might have damaged his ego to the point of no return, Madam Pomfrey didn’t seem to think his injuries were too severe this time. After a few healing charms, which made him feel back to normal in no time, Heeseung was ready to leave the infirmary.

Sunghoon and Jungwon ended up leaving right after dropping him off, claiming that they had to go celebrate their win in the Slytherin common room. Heeseung found it completely disrespectful to ditch the very person who brought them to victory.

To his surprise, you were waiting outside the door, twiddling your thumbs and doing that annoyingly cute habit of yours where you chewed on the inside of your cheek whenever you were in trouble (which, frankly, happened a lot of the time). He made a great deal of effort to adjust his cape before walking over to you with raised eyebrows, wondering if an apology was coming his way.

“I just wanted to say,” you started, voice uncharacteristically small and wavering, but then you followed up with an incomprehensible mumble that Heeseung could hardly decipher.

“What?”

“Uh,” you raised your voice this time, keeping it steadier with extra effort, “on the way here—funny story, really—I was telling Jake about how you set off a Dungbomb in Filch’s office the other week. Honest to God, I didn’t even see Mrs. Norris!”

Although you didn’t provide a solid conclusion, he was able to connect the dots and figure out what you were getting at. He almost wished he stayed oblivious because how was this happening to him twice in a day?

Heeseung’s face fell. “You’ve got to be joking.”

“Filch is looking for you,” you finished with a guilty look drawn across your face.

It happened to be your second guilty look of the day, actually. Two too many for Heeseung to handle.

There was one thing Lee Heeseung was quite sure of, and it was that he wanted absolutely nothing to do with you from now on.

The aftermath of his scolding from Filch resulted in him receiving evening detentions for the rest of the week. All you brought him was terrible luck wherever he went, and despite how nice you smelled and how shiny your hair was, he didn’t need your misfortune clinging to him like it would be the last breath he’d take.

Honestly, any longer around you and he was pretty sure he would be taking his last breath soon.

But it was honestly ridiculous how hard Heeseung had to restrain himself from going near you. He would pass by your unbothered self in the Courtyard, hoping to get some verbal recognition from you that would change his mind about his whole ignoring thing, but you simply just paid more attention to stupid Jake Sim from Hufflepuff.

Who cared about Jake Sim, anyway? Surely not the several girls in his year that threw themselves at him. There was nothing redeeming about him, not even with his perfect smile and perfect grades and perfect robes. Honestly, where did he get those robes? Heeseung bought his at Madam Malkin’s, like virtually every other student, but they weren’t as perfectly trimmed and fitted as Jake Sim’s perfect robes.

“I’ll let you in on a little secret,” Park Jongseong, a sixth year Ravenclaw, sneered once he saw the glower across Heeseung’s face. “Wanting nothing to do with Y/N starts with actually wanting nothing to do with her.”

“Who said I didn’t not want anything to do with her?” Heeseung fired back, but even he was confused about his response, taking a few extra seconds to process what nonsense had just spewed out of his mouth. “Okay, look, just pretend I said the funniest thing you’ve ever heard when she walks by us.”

“Actually, that was the funniest thing I’ve ever heard.”

Heeseung gave him an exasperated look. “Are you serious?”

“Yeah, I mean, you’re not that funny to begin with. Kind of hilarious that you think you’d be able to tell me the funniest thing I’ve ever heard.”

“You literally just told me I said the funniest thing ever.”

“Funny because it was such a pathetic thing to say. There’s a difference.”

“You’re a stupid git, you know that?”

“Am I now?”

“The stupidest of stupid gits.”

In truth, Jake was the stupid git. Jongseong could tease Heeseung all he wanted, but Jake Sim was the one grinning down at you with a stupid sparkle in his eyes, taunting the Slytherin with those evil, perfect corners of his lips. Didn’t he have better things to do? Like not taking up the oxygen in a place where he was clearly unwanted?

Also, to set the record straight, Heeseung needed to make it perfectly clear (to himself, too, because this was clearly confusing for him and everybody around him) that he was not into you.

Probably.

Sure, he felt a smidge of fondness because you two had gotten into life-threatening situations before (all your fault, by the way), so there was probably some semblance of friendship that was only due to the fact that shared trauma often brought people together. But that was all it was. Heeseung’s feelings did not extend into anything remotely romantic; he even shuddered at the very thought.

That was right. He was your friend, and that was all he wanted to be. Heeseung most definitely did not think about anything like holding your hand, or plucking flowers to braid into your hair, or kissing you in hidden corners of the castle. That would be ridiculous and completely unlike him.

And then you really did walk past him and Jongseong, so Heeseung took it upon himself to punch his friend’s shoulder hard and burst into forced laughter. He tried extremely hard to convince himself that this was a very normal thing to do, but soon after the act, he wanted to lay on the floor of the Owlery until the owls collectively decided to fly his body out somewhere far away—hopefully another country.

“Idiot, I’m the one who’s supposed to laugh,” Jongseong reminded him once you were out of sight. (You did not pay attention to his charade, Heeseung was sad to note.) With a scoff, he added, “You should probably hit the books ‘cause acting’s clearly not up your alley.”

Heeseung let out a retired sigh and stood up from the stone bench they had been sitting on. “I’m going to Potions.”

“Oh, you attend class now? Shocking.”

“I prefer not spending my evenings in detention.”

“Alright. I’ll update you later on the Jake-and-Y/N show.”

“You do that, and I’ll show you how good I’ve gotten at the hair loss curse,” he spat. “I’d start investing in some hats.”

“Is that why Sunghoon’s missing half an eyebrow?”

Heeseung didn’t answer. Honestly, Sunghoon’s predicament had nothing to do with him, but he left it up to Jongseong’s imagination for the sake of intimidation.

As he stormed away (well, more of a brisk walk; Heeseung wasn’t one to storm), he realized that his friends had all sorts of misconceptions about him. He couldn’t wrap his head around why Jongseong would possibly think he was concerned about you and Jake Sim. Sure, he spent a good portion of the morning glaring daggers at Jake Sim, but there was no way that meant Heeseung was that concerned about the Hufflepuff.

What was there to be concerned about, anyway? Heeseung was the Seeker of the Slytherin Quidditch team, scored five O.W.L.s last year, and he was the top duelist at Hogwarts. Jake Sim was just another pretty boy who Heeseung could crush under the sole of his shoe if he wanted to.

His mind wandered to thoughts of you and Jake Sim walking back to the Hufflepuff common room together. Your melodic laugh echoing through the halls because of a joke he told; your fingers entwined with his as he carried your books for you; and your eyes practically glowing with admiration as you watched him intently.

The thought made Heeseung sick to his stomach. Not because he liked you or anything disgusting like that, but because Jake Sim didn’t deserve to receive that much attention—not even in a hypothetical scenario that played out in Heeseung’s wild, almost sadistic imagination.

One thought comforted him, though: You had Potions with Heeseung, meaning you had to pry yourself from Jake’s side to attend Slughorn’s class.

As he was about to approach the classroom door, Heeseung realized he had forgotten his Potions textbook. He debated whether to go in without it or run to his dormitory to fetch it, and he eventually went with the latter to avoid being clueless if today required brewing a potion. This resulted in him being about ten minutes late to class, which he decided was your fault somehow.

Immediately upon entering the room, the pungent scent of lavender filled his nostrils, and it was all he could smell. He later recognized that there were a few other smells mixed in—the smell of butterbeer and the smell of fresh ink. The lavender, however, was so intense that it overwhelmed his senses.

It smelled like you.

Before Heeseung was about to blurt out and ask why you doused the entire classroom in your perfume, Professor Slughorn turned to look at him with brows raised in pleasant surprise.

“Ah, Mr. Lee,” he greeted. “You’re early today.”

He was ten minutes late.

“Uh, just forgot my textbook,” he said, holding up the Potions textbook he walked several, brutal flights of stairs to retrieve.

“If you’re ready to join us, I was just going over Amortentia.”

If Heeseung’s memory served him correctly, that was either the potion that boosted one’s memory or the potion that induced laughter. He hadn’t exactly been doing his reading over the summer, which was probably not an intelligent decision on his part considering he was in N.E.W.T. level Potions.

Either way, he was a little too preoccupied mentally replaying how his eyes met yours briefly. Heeseung walked over to stand next to you—for research purposes, of course—because he needed to know if you had really drenched yourself in lavender perfume, or if he had just gone crazy.

He nudged you with his elbow and muttered, “You reek.”

Okay, that was definitely not a chivalrous way of putting it.

“Excuse me?” Your unnaturally high-pitched voice was hardly a whisper, but Heeseung could detect… panic?

“No, I mean your perfume,” he corrected quickly. “It’s everywhere.”

“Is it that strong?” You lifted your sleeve to sniff at it.

“Yeah? It’s—”

“—the most powerful love potion known to wizardkind,” Heeseung heard Slughorn say as he redirected his focus to the actual lecture. “Amortentia’s said to smell different to each person, according to what attracts them.”

So it turned out that his memory didn’t serve him correctly at all.

Heeseung had his fair share of near-death experiences—probably a few more than the average Hogwarts student.

Never had he wanted so badly to combust into flames on the spot like a phoenix. Except he didn’t want to rise from the ashes; he was perfectly content with staying dead and buried without ever having to relive the last couple minutes of his life, which he was sure would scar him forever.

Immediately, Heeseung stopped focusing on Slughorn’s lecture to conjure up some lame excuse in his head. Maybe he could tell everyone that his Muggle-born father owned a lavender farm back in the day, thus his love for lavender scents bloomed. But, Merlin’s beard, that didn’t even make sense! Just because he loved the smell of lavender didn’t mean he was in love with it. The smell was always attached to the person—the very object of his desires.

And, of course, it all pointed back to you.

Heeseung should not have had the realization that he was in love with you in the middle of Potions, of all classes. Astronomy? Sure. He thought it would be romantic to come to terms with his feelings whilst observing the celestial bodies in the sky. Divination? Even better. Gazing into a crystal ball for answers made complete sense.

But Potions? Seriously? This was probably the least romantic place in Hogwarts aside from the haunted bathroom in the South Wing.

No, on second thought, Heeseung saw some potential in the haunted bathroom. Something about the complete isolation of the facility made it all the more exciting.

Potions, on the other hand, was simply downright dreadful.

“Amortentia, as you all know, is extremely dangerous. I only have it out here for educational purposes, so do not even think about touching that cauldron,” Slughorn warned. “Instead, for today’s lesson, I want you all to partner up and brew something… more lighthearted—say, Elixir for Inducing Euphoria. You can find it in your Potions books in chapter eight.”

After his lecture, Slughorn made everyone write down what Amortentia smelled like for them, warning his class about the dangers of the love potion being slipped into someone’s food or drink. Heeseung hastily wrote his down on a scrap of parchment before pocketing it where he would surely forget it existed.

He had been hoping Potion-making was going to be individual work today. He despised partner work, especially when that meant Heeseung would potentially be working with you, which didn’t prove too successful for his heart or his grades.

More importantly, Heeseung did not, by any means, want to work alongside you after accidentally admitting that the Amortentia smelled like lavender to him.

Not to mention you were atrocious when it came to Potions. Heeseung needed more than two hands to count all the times your cauldron blew up in your face this year. Even when Heeseung took the reins and stirred the ingredients himself, you would somehow manage to expertly worsen the situation.

Thankfully, Kim Sunoo also took Potions, so as soon as Heeseung spotted the Slytherin, he grabbed his robes by the nape.

“You’re working with me.”

It came off more as an order than a request, but Heeseung needed to be firm to emphasize the gravity of the situation he was in. What if he died working with you? Did Sunoo want him dead?

“No way,” Sunoo refused. “I already told Sohee I’d work with him. Plus, you never bring the right ingredients.”

Well, that was that; Sunoo hated Heeseung and wanted him dead.

“Are you serious? Sohee?” Heeseung asked, acting as if Sohee wasn’t one of the top students in Potions. “You’re turning your best friend down?”

“No, I’m turning you down.”

“Okay, ouch.”

“Sunoo, d’you have any Sopophorous beans on you?” Lee Sohee asked as he approached the two, reading off his Potions book. “I have Worm—oh, hey, Heeseung!”

With little enthusiasm, he greeted, “Hi, Sohee.”

“Heeseung needs a partner,” Sunoo explained.

“Oh, really?” Before Heeseung could stop him, Sohee turned his head and cupped his hands around his mouth, yelling, “Y/N! Heeseung needs a partner, too!”

“Sohee!” Heeseung hissed, suddenly wishing Sohee’s head was a Quaffle he could launch into oblivion. He lowered his voice to mutter, “Have you considered that maybe I’m asking Sunoo because I don’t wanna partner with Y/N?”

He shrugged in response. “How was I supposed to know that?”

Oh, this was horrible. Not only did Sunoo hate Heeseung and want him dead, but Sohee had joined in on the cause, too. They were both clearly plotting something wicked against him.

But now he had no other choice. It wasn’t like he could turn you down after Sohee had blatantly lied about Heeseung’s intentions. This was the worst outcome yet; he was probably going to fail Potions because of you, and then he would have to write a make-up paper on the stupid elixir they were supposed to brew.

“No one wants to partner with me!” you complained, shoulders sagging and lips forming a pout when you walked over to the Slytherin. “I can always count on you, though, Hee.”

Heeseung couldn’t believe what he was hearing.

No one wanted to partner with you? What had the wizarding world come to? Where was the comradery?

He was almost infuriated by how spineless the rest of his classmates were. Sure, Heeseung was complaining about working with you seconds prior, but you said it yourself: you could always count on him. At the end of the day, failing today’s class and writing a make-up paper was nothing in the grand scheme of things. Heeseung would always extend a helpful hand to those who needed it, or someone he was potentially crushing on.

Get a grip, Heeseung, he scolded himself. You do not have a crush on her. She’s just a good friend, that’s all. A perfectly normal, platonic friend of yours who gets on your nerves sometimes… and smells rather nice… and sort of looks extremely pretty when she has her hair tied up… and—

Okay, this was getting ridiculous.

“Yeah,” he got out in an embarrassingly choked voice. “You were my first choice, anyway—well, after Sunoo turned me down.”

There often came a time when a man had to put himself through tough situations to overcome adversity. As Heeseung approached their table, his shiny cauldron gleaming under the lamp light, he knew exactly what he needed to do.

Make sure you didn’t lay a finger on his bloody cauldron.

Sunoo and Sohee were working at the same table, standing at the bench across from them. Heeseung quickly sifted through his bag, and, as Sunoo predicted, he didn’t bring any of the ingredients necessary for the elixir. What the hell was he going to do with Fluxweed and rose oil?

“I have porcupine quills,” you said, pulling a glass jar out of your bag.

“Uh, okay, so I need you to get a Shrivelfig and Wormwood from Slughorn’s closet,” he instructed you, giving you a thumbs-up once you nodded. “I’m gonna beg Sunoo for his Sopophorous beans.”

After you walked off, Heeseung leaned over the table and muttered, “Sunoo, please give me some of your beans.”

“No,” the prick replied.

“Please,” Heeseung begged. “Eunseok’s table took the last of them from Slughorn’s closet.”

“Maybe, but I want something in return.”

“What do you want?”

A sly grin spread across Kim Sunoo’s face. “Tell me what the Amortentia smelled like for you.”

Honestly, Heeseung was perfectly content with writing another twenty inches to make up for a failed potion. He would even take detention, if needed. Anything to get himself out of this sick and twisted situation.

In his head, he imagined Sunoo getting what he deserved, and that was his ass getting properly kicked during Dueling Club. He envisioned Jungwon flourishing his wand and blasting Sunoo square in the gut, knocking him straight into the fountain in the middle of the courtyard.

He gave his friend a reproachful look. “I wish Jungwon’s spell hit you.”

Sunoo chuckled darkly and held up his jar of Sopophorous beans, waving them teasingly in the air. This was almost too much for Heeseung, but he committed to working with you, so he couldn’t let you down while you were off getting the rest of the ingredients.

“Lavender,” he admitted through gritted teeth. “The Amortentia smelled like lavender.”

His eyebrows raised in mock surprise. “Hear that, Sohee? Heeseung smelled lavender. You know who else usually smells like lavender?”

At that moment, you returned with the rest of the ingredients. You showed Heeseung the jars and bottles you brought over, but he was too distracted to properly examine them. His gaze remained fixed on Sunoo, eyes burning with resentment. He prayed to Salazar that Sunoo wouldn’t slip up in front of you.

Sohee, who clearly had no idea who Sunoo was referring to, blinked slowly. “Uh, Professor Longbottom? He probably smells like it—you know, with all the time he spends in the Greenhouse.”

“Yes, Sohee, I’m in love with Professor Longbottom,” Heeseung deadpanned. “Thank you for your wonderful insight.”

You made a face. “You’re in love with who?”

“No one,” Heeseung replied quickly once Sunoo finally handed him his desired ingredients. He lit the fire under the cauldron, dropping a sprig of peppermint inside to counterbalance the possible side-effects. “Just peel the Shrivelfig and chop the porcupine quills while I stir.”

The potion-making seemed to be going smoothly for the first few steps. However, when you were chopping the porcupine quills, Heeseung’s chest leaped when he heard an ouch come from you. He forgot about his cauldron immediately and looked over to see your finger bleeding.

“What happened?” He grabbed hold of your hand, inspecting the blood oozing from your cut. “Did you slice your finger?”

“M-my hand just slipped.”

This was bad. If Heeseung didn’t disinfect and bandage the wound, then it could possibly get infected and you’d die. (Merlin’s Beard, Heeseung, it’s hardly a flesh wound, his thoughts annoyingly cut in.) He needed to get you to Madam Pomfrey before—

“Heeseung!” Sunoo yelled from over the table.

He whirled around to see that elixir had turned a deep purple hue, bubbling up to the rim. That was strange; it was supposed to be a bright yellow color by now. Considering he was handling the cauldron the entire time, nothing should have gone badly wrong. Time seemed to slow down as Heeseung speculated what in Salazar’s name he managed to screw up.

That was when he noticed the green bottle next to the cauldron—the Infusion of Wormwood he poured in earlier. Except it wasn’t Wormwood; the brown tag hanging from the neck of the bottle read Flobberworm Mucus.

Before he could curse himself for not reading the label properly beforehand, the failed elixir rose all the way to the top and shot out of the cauldron, spewing purple liquid all over their table and burning a hole through the wood. Slughorn’s head turned sharply in their direction, and he crossed the classroom to see what mess you and Heeseung had caused.

“Evanesco!” the Potions teacher shouted, making the substance vanish in an instant. Slughorn looked mostly unsurprised as he turned to face you and Heeseung, letting a retired sigh slip. “Five points from Slytherin and Hufflepuff—and twenty inches on the properties of Amortentia by next class.”

“Twenty?” you cried, nearly gasping from the shock. “But, Sir, we have so much work from our other N.E.W.T. classes already!”

“And we have the Hogsmede trip after class,” Heeseung chimed in.

And, bless his heart, Slughorn was far too kind of a soul to be too strict with either of you. He typically had high expectations for those he taught, especially the ones he sought out for his reputable ‘Slug Club,’ but he had a soft spot for his N.E.W.T. students.

“Alright then, well… you and Mr. Lee can write twenty inches together and bring it to me,” he decided in his bumbling voice.

When he walked away, Heeseung let his shoulders sag. He couldn’t believe he had to write a paper over this—and with you, no less. He should’ve known that he was cursed to stumble upon misfortune again, but, at the same time, he just couldn’t find a way to blame you. Sure, you were the one who took the wrong bottle from the Potions cabinet, but Heeseung really should’ve double-checked the label before he poured it into the cauldron.

“Oh, well,” Sunoo simpered, wearing a proud smirk, “writing about Amortentia shouldn’t be hard for you, huh?”

Heeseung demonstrated his hair loss curse on Sunoo after class.

“I might get a D on my N.E.W.T. for Potions, Hee,” you complained to him later when you both had snuck away to the lakefront to work on your remedial paper. There was a nice patch of grass that Heeseung liked to sit on and contemplate his miserable life, so he figured that he’d share the location with you. “Or maybe even a T—oh, Godric’s Heart.”

“Hey, failing with distinction would be much more impressive than just downright failing,” he tried.

“Not helping.”

“Sorry.”

Heeseung had a total of four words written on his parchment so far, which happened to be both of your first and last names. He wasn’t sure how he would get to twenty inches without delving into the smells of Amortentia, which he already figured he would need to use a personal anecdote for. He was trying his best to avoid that since it would lead to a rather awkward conversation.

However, everyone was leaving for Hogsmede shortly, so Heeseung was hoping that you would decide to set aside the rest of the paper for later.

As if the universe was rubbing Heeseung’s misery in his face, Jake Sim came strutting over in his stupid, perfect robes. (Except it was quite a normal walk; no strutting whatsoever, actually.)

“Just got out of Arithmancy?” you asked him with a gut-wrenching, brilliant smile on your face.

“Yeah, Seunghan and I were heading to Hogsmede with everyone else,” Jake answered before his gaze drifted to Heeseung. Something seemed to light up in his eyes and he started reaching into his robes. “Hey, nice game yesterday! Did you see that, uh… where did I put it…” After some rummaging through his pockets, Jake pulled out a piece of parchment which seemed to be a clipping from the school newspaper. “You made the front page!”

Heeseung peered to see a moving picture of himself laying on the Quidditch pitch, half-conscious as the Golden Snitch rested in the palm of his hand. Next to him, Sunghoon and Jungwon gave the camera a thumbs-up and feigned shock at the sight of the Seeker on the ground.

He was definitely going to be sending Riki a Howler.

“Lovely,” he replied half-heartedly, fighting down a scowl when he realized that Jake wanted him to keep the clipping. “I’ll hang it up with the rest of my collection.”

Jake laughed, even though Heeseung was dead serious. He had an archive of mortifying photographs of him that Riki had taken ever since he stepped onto Hogwarts grounds. Collecting them was intentional, of course; Heeseung needed evidence for the Wizangamot if he planned to sue Nishimura Riki for defamation one day. If Heeseung had known how much of a nuisance the Gryffindor would be, he would’ve plotted for the kid to be sent back home right after his Sorting Ceremony.

“We have a remedial paper to write,” you told Jake glumly, “so I don’t think we’ll be going to Hogsmede today.”

Jake shrugged. “I’ll see you in the common room later, then.”

“Bye-bye.”

Once Jake walked off to find his friend, Heeseung shot you a dark look. There might have been something warm and soupy in his chest whenever he even looked in your general direction, but he wouldn’t let this slide.

“I’m not skipping the Hogsmede trip.”

“But we have to finish—”

“But Hogsmede,” he whined. “Can’t we meet in the library after and work on it?”

“I have a Transfiguration quiz I need to study for.” You sounded distressed for a moment, but you quickly brightened up. “Who are you meeting in Hogsmede?”

“Uh, well, no one in particular. Just wanted to check out some stores.”

“Then how about we go together?” you suggested. “We can work on our paper in The Three Broomsticks.”

“Oh.” Heat suddenly rose to Heeseung’s cheeks, and although he desperately tried to convince himself that your proposal did not sound like a date, he couldn’t shake how excited he was to spend some one-on-one time with you. “That works for me.”

On Salazar’s name, Heeseung was going to murder Sunghoon and Jungwon in cold blood.

While you and Heeseung had gotten cozy in an empty booth, brushing shoulders as you two looked over the first paragraph you started, his two dear friends decided to show up where they were clearly unwelcome. Apparently, mouthing get the fuck out of here wasn’t sending the message across.

Sunghoon was on some long tangent about how he barely scraped by on his O.W.L.s, but Slughorn finally gave him the green light to take Alchemy. For some odd reason, Alchemy was only available as a N.E.W.T. class, so Sunghoon had been anxious the whole summer over whether his O.W.L. results would be enough.

“Didn’t you get five O.W.L.s?” Jungwon asked, bored.

“Six—A in Herbology,” Sunghoon corrected. “I hate plants.”

“Longbottom let you in with an Acceptable?” Heeseung raised his brows with mild interest, but he quickly steeled his expression. He was not entertaining their company, no. He started practicing the fine art of Legilimency to send a message to Sunghoon: go away, go away, go away, go away.

“He said he was especially impressed that I got into his N.E.W.T. class.”

“Oh, yeah,” you spoke up, pointing at Sunghoon. “Yizhuo told me she had no idea you were in her class until you showed up for exams.”

“I also didn’t realize she was in my class until you mentioned that.”

“How’d you even pass?” Heeseung asked.

“No clue,” Sunghoon replied honestly. “The exam was fine, but I thought the practical would be the end for me. Turns out I’m a natural. They even clapped after I ripped the leaves off a Venomous Tentacula. Like, big deal, it’s a plant.”

Everyone at the table froze. Heeseung practically jumped seconds later, hitting his leg against the underside of the table. He had long abandoned his goal of kicking Sunghoon and Jungwon out of The Three Broomsticks. You choked on your butterbeer, wiping some of the foam off your chin. Jungwon’s eyebrows raised in disbelief. Heeseung’s knee hit the underside of the table, suppressing a groan. There was a shuffle below.

Out of the corner of his eye, he noticed you ducking under the table for a moment. However, he was too astounded by Sunghoon’s story to divert the topic.

Heeseung set his butterbeer down and asked, “You just walked over and used your bare hands?”

“I suppose not showing up to class has its upsides,” Jungwon said. “Ignorance is bliss.”

“Sunghoon, do you even know what a Venomous Tentacula does?” you asked.

“What? Photosynthesis?”

“Well, other than the snapping jaws that can either stun or kill you, and the vines reaching out to strangle you when you’re least expecting it,” Jungwon started (which didn't sound like a very pleasant start, to be honest), “there's also the venom that shoots out from its sprouts—oh, and the thorns that can kill you if you prick your finger.”

Sunghoon looked disturbed before muttering to Heeseung, “And they call Hogwarts the safest school on Earth. What a joke.”

You excused yourself shortly after the conversation came to an end, claiming that you spotted a friend a few tables over. Heeseung pretended to listen to Sunghoon and Jungwon trying to guess how old Professor Binns was, but really he was keeping an eye on you. Minjeong was whispering something to you, paused when you wrapped your arms around her, and then turned her neck to say something with sudden enthusiasm.

Heeseung wondered how it would feel if he was sitting in that seat instead of Kim Minjeong, if your arms were draped around his shoulders like that. He thought of your hair falling into his face, how he’d brush it away and turn his head to kiss you—

Dangerous waters, he warned himself. Do not go there.

“Every time I ask him—and, mind you, it was only a couple of times—he falls asleep before he can even give me an answer!” Sunghoon complained, bringing Heeseung’s attention back to the topic of the ancient History of Magic professor. “Heeseung, has he ever told your class how old he is?”

“Couple hundred years probably,” he answered. “Can you guys leave now?”

They gawked at him, offended.

Now Heeseung had realized he had driven himself into a corner. He couldn’t tell them the real reason why he wanted them to leave. If his friends found out that he wanted to spend time with you alone, then they would misconstrue the situation into something involving feelings—something which Lee Heeseung might have had but refused to admit out loud or to himself.

“You two have been distracting us from finishing our paper,” he said instead, pointing at their unfinished essay. “Twenty inches! And we hardly have two.”

Jungwon, who saw right through him, asked, “You just wanna spend time with Y/N, don’t you?”

Heeseung coughed loudly, as if that would cover up whatever the Slytherin just said. “What?”

“It’s so obvious,” Sunghoon said. “Would we really be your best friends if we couldn’t pick up on who you’re into?”

“I am not into—” Heeseung paused to weigh his words. His recent revelation brought him to the point of no return; he couldn’t just lie about how he felt now. He threw an anxious look over his shoulder to make sure you were still preoccupied with Minjeong. “We have a paper to write.”

Sunghoon threw his head back to laugh. “See? You can’t even deny it.”

“It doesn’t even matter; she’s into Jake.”

They went silent. Glanced at each other out of the corner of their eyes.

“Jake Sim?” Jungwon asked. “And Y/N?”

“Yes.”

“Jake Sim… and Y/N.”

“Yes,” Heeseung repeated with impatience seeping past his teeth.

“What makes you think she’s into Jake?”

“Uh…” Heeseung was now irritated that he was being put on the spot because nothing was coming to mind. He just thought of you and Jake laughing together in the courtyard and jealousy wrapped tight around his heart. “I saw them together.”

“I saw you in Filch’s office the other day,” Sunghoon said. “Are you two a thing?”

Heeseung scowled at him, but before he could fire back at his friend, Jungwon said, “Just tell us you want us to leave so you can spend time with Y/N, and we’ll go.” A sly grin spread across his face, and he scarily resembled Kim Sunoo at that very moment. “You should probably make up your mind before she gets back.”

Struggling for a way out of this situation, Heeseung gave them both dirty looks. He had no choice but to give Jungwon and Sunghoon what they wanted. You were going to wrap your conversation up with Minjeong any minute now, so he had to act now before his friends terrorized him for the rest of their Hogsmede trip.

“Fine,” he said sharply. “I wanna spend time with Y/N alone, so leave.”

Right on command, the two boys made a big scene about having to leave, throwing their hands up in exasperation and getting to their feet slowly. Sunghoon shook his head, rubbing the back of his neck as if it was a pain for them to be ordered around. Heeseung sank back into his seat in embarrassment.

“Alright, alright, we’ll go,” Sunghoon drawled, “but you better tell us all the details after.”

Heeseung gave them his word, even though he was sure the update would simply be finishing their essay. Once Jungwon and Sunghoon strode out of the pub, he turned his gaze back to Minjeong’s table. For a moment, he just watched how your hair shone under the warm lighting. Heeseung had to avert his eyes when you turned around again to walk back to his table. There was a strange look on your face, like you were trying to work through a puzzle in your head.

“Where’d the others go?”

For the entirety of their Hogsmede excursion, Heeseung had been trying his hardest not to look at you when you were so close to him. Now, though, with his friends gone, it was just you and him sitting almost shoulder-to-shoulder.

He realized he was staring at your lips instead of answering your question. He licked his lips involuntarily and looked away.

“Uh, went to check out some stores, I think,” he lied. “Should we get back to work?”

Slightly distracted, you replied, “Yes, let’s.”

The remedial paper was finally at an impressive twenty inches by the time you and Heeseung thought it would be best to start walking back to the school.

There weren’t many students around anymore as most people didn’t want to miss dinner in the Great Hall. Heeseung felt like something was off. You were focused on the paper the entire time, hardly engaging in any side conversation or recalling some fun memory. When you two ran out of things to write about Amortentia and stumbled upon the topic of describing its scent, Heeseung managed to steer away from writing about how the potion smelled for him. Instead, you two went for a more informational route with zero personal anecdotes.

The walk back to the castle was long, but Heeseung really hadn’t expected you to bring up the topic of Amortentia again. He thought hours of writing a paper on the potion would put you off of it for a long period of time.

“So, you remember Slughorn showing us the love potion in class, right?” you started timidly while the two of you were crossing a bridge in Hogsmede. You didn’t even let Heeseung get to the trail to Hogwarts before you started your interrogation. “What’d it smell like for you?”

Fuck.

Why was everyone so interested in what the Amortentia smelled like for him? It wasn’t supposed to be some groundbreaking piece of information, and it wasn’t a big deal that it smelled like your signature scent! There were far more interesting things to converse about, like how nicely the leaves were arranged on the trees, or how interesting of a shade the sky was.

But there was no way for him to avoid this question—not when you were staring at him so adamantly—so he resorted to lying. A white lie never hurt anyone, after all. Or, well, anyone important.

“Like… books,” he answered, trying to keep his voice as level as possible.

“Maybe you and the librarian are meant to be,” you teased.

“I guess sneaking into the restricted section makes the heart grow fond.”

You laughed, and, Merlin’s beard, what a melody. Heeseung could listen to your voice all day. Preferably on a warm day while he was stretched out on some grass with your head on his lap, or maybe he’d like to be laying on your lap. Either way, he would be perfectly content just listening to you talk his ear off until—

“Y’know, that’s funny ‘cause… well, you wrote lavender here,” you said, chewing on the inside of your cheek and holding the very scrap of parchment that was supposed to be tucked away in Heeseung’s pocket.

Suddenly, he felt the urge to shut himself in the Slytherin common room and never hear you speak to him again.

In the couple of seconds he was malfunctioning for, many thoughts raced through Heeseung’s head.

First, he wondered if there was still time left to request a Ministry-issued Time-Turner under the guise that he would use it for his classes. Instead, its intended purpose would be to reverse time until Heeseung had somehow gotten himself out of this situation or destroyed that stupid piece of parchment.

The second revelation that struck him was that he must have dropped the paper in The Three Broomsticks. It must have fallen out of his pocket when he hit his knee under the table. There was a moment when he noticed you picking something up from the floor, but he hadn’t dwelled on it, expecting it to have just been a napkin.

Lastly, he had gone extremely still—to the point of halting in his tracks and staring at you, wide-eyed. His body had completely seized up to the point where he almost thought he was shaking. Shaking—but he was shaking. He was shaking all over. Or maybe he wasn’t. He couldn’t tell. Heeseung clenched a fist to make sure he had control over his body.

“Heeseung?”

You stopped walking, too, looking at him curiously. For a moment, it looked like you were going to apologize for reading what he wrote down, but you looked down at it again.

“Did the love potion smell like lavender?” you asked in a soft voice. Looking visibly flustered, you said in a rush, “I’m just asking because Minjeong said I always, uh… smell like lavender, and I just thought…”

He needed to run. He needed to get out of here. He needed to disappear.

Heeseung felt like his blood was rushing through his ears, pumping so loud that he couldn’t hear anything but his heartbeat for a moment. You were saying something, but he couldn’t even make out the words your lips framed. The world had slowed down, and Heeseung wasn’t quite sure if his feet were planted firmly on the ground.

He would have rather been anywhere else—maybe at Sunghoon’s house where his mother’s baked goods wafted from her kitchen window. He could envision the meadow right behind their house and how he spent the summer in the grass, practicing Quidditch with Sunghoon and his little sister. Jongseong would arrive days later to complain about his O.W.L.s for three hours straight until Sunghoon and Heeseung felt the life oozing out of their bodies.

But here, with your eyes sparkling with determination, Heeseung felt like he was about to melt into a puddle. He was consumed with the ungodly urge to grab ahold of you and kiss you until his blood felt like electricity in his veins. Yes, he needed to be anywhere but here—anywhere where his feelings weren’t worn on his sleeve for the world to see.

You started again, “Heeseung—”

Before you could get anything else out, Heeseung, who was overcome with the will to escape, felt something pulling him from behind. In a flash, he was whisked out of thin air with a tug behind his navel, leaving you gobsmacked and stranded in Hogsmede.

He felt like he was being pushed through a thin vortex, squeezed by the fabric of reality tearing and reshaping itself around him. It took him some gasping breaths to get lungfuls of air into his body, but once he could breathe right again, he realized he was definitely not in Hogsmede.

“Excuse me?” Heeseung asked a nearby townsperson who was walking past him. He must have looked ridiculous in his Hogwarts robes, body awkwardly sprawled over two bales of hay. “Where am I?”

“Feldcroft,” the wizard answered.

He Apparated to Sunghoon’s hometown.

Not only did Heeseung spend thirty minutes trying to Apparate back to Hogsmede, but he was late for dinner. You were long gone, of course, but it seemed like you hadn’t exactly abandoned Heeseung. When he arrived on school grounds, Slughorn and McGonagall were waiting for him at the gate. This was definitely going to earn him a detention or two.

Apparently, you ran back to school to tell McGonagall about what happened. The headmistress also noted that you were sobbing because you were convinced that it was your fault somehow. You happened to be under the belief that Heeseung wouldn’t know how to get back, which he couldn’t argue with because he considered himself lucky to Apparate back without splinching himself.

After receiving a lecture from both professors about the dangers of Apparating unsupervised, Heeseung received two punishments: one week of detention and he wasn’t allowed to go on the next Hogsmede trip. However, he also received a pat on the back from Slughorn and a congratulations from McGonagall for a successful Apparition.

When he recounted the story to Sunghoon, Jungwon, and Sunoo in the common room the following morning, they were howling with laughter. He had to pause approximately four times for them to catch their breaths.

“It’s not that funny,” Heeseung deadpanned.

Sunoo, who was wiping tears from the corners of his eyes, replied, “It’s kinda funny.”

Sunoo was also missing several patches of hair, which Heeseung generously didn’t point out.

“Did my mom give you anything to bring back?” Sunghoon inquired. “I’ve been craving her tarts.”

“I didn’t exactly have time to drop by your mom’s and pick up some tarts! I was trying to Apparate back to Hogsmede, if that wasn’t already clear!”

“On the bright side,” Jungwon said, “you’ll probably pass your Apparition exam now. Sunghoon lost half an eyebrow while he was practicing yesterday.”

Sunghoon, with one and a half eyebrows, grimaced.

“So, you left Y/N hanging and she had to walk back alone?” Sunoo asked, tutting lightly as he shook his head. “Now you stand no chance of asking her out.”

Heeseung tried to cover up how taken aback he was by coughing into his arm, expertly hiding his reddening cheeks from his friends. “It’s not like that.”

“Uh-huh,” Jungwon said. “So, you’d be perfectly fine with Y/N going out with Jake?”

Heeseung’s face turned sour as he turned to look at the Slytherin. “She’s going out with who?”

“It’s a hypothetical question.”

“Well… who she goes out with is none of my business.”

Sunghoon barked out a laugh. “Then why’d you get so worked up?”

“I’m not getting worked up,” Heeseung replied firmly, huffing as he got to his feet. “I simply don’t think she and Jake Sim are compatible, but my opinion’s got nothing to do with her.”

“Yeah?” A ghost of a smirk was plastered across Sunoo’s face. “Why don’t you think they’re compatible?”

There was a fire in the center of Heeseung’s chest, blazing and scorching his heart. He felt as if he would pass out from the immense pressure in his chest, but then his body felt so hot that everything seemed to slip away. He thought of you and Jake again, thinking about how you smiled up at him in a way Heeseung had never seen you smile at him.

The fire in his chest raged.

“Because I exist,” he answered loudly. “Now, if you’ll excuse me, I have a Defense Against the Dark Arts class to attend.”

Whether they were awestruck or dumbfounded, Heeseung’s friends watched him leave the common room with crooked grins on their faces. He was extremely satisfied that he managed to get his two cents in without his voice cracking or wavering.

After Sunghoon was left in the common room with Sunoo and Jungwon, he slumped back in his seat and asked, “Since when did he go to class?”

Defense Against the Dark Arts was Heeseung’s favorite class. Not because he particularly enjoyed dueling or any violence of the sort, but because Professor Weasley was the only teacher who didn’t assign papers every other day. He preferred a more hands-on teaching method, which usually involved partnering up and practicing spells on fellow classmates.

Plus, when Heeseung was in moods like these—moods where he felt like he was going to burst into flames much like a phoenix would—he looked forward to blasting someone across the room. Someone preferably like Jung Sungchan, who didn’t take it personally when he conjured columns of fire in rapid succession.

Because he was so hot with unexplained anger and unrestrained emotion, Heeseung had to set the record straight (evidently for himself, too) that he most definitely harbored romantic feelings for you.

Admittedly, this was clear after he smelled the Amortentia, but Heseung refused to allow Potions to be the class that made him aware that he was in love. He could almost envision Slughorn taking credit for his future wedding, and the very thought made him shudder.

The fire in Heeseung’s chest grew into more of a wildfire tearing through his body once he saw Jake Sim in Defense Against the Dark Arts.

He completely forgot that Jake took this class, too. The cherry on top was that Jake and Seunghan decided to sit at the desk right behind Heeseung and Sungchan, so he could hardly focus on Sungchan rattling on about Trelawny giving him detention when he was trying his hardest to eavesdrop on Jake’s conversation.

Right when Heeseung heard Jake talking about something potentially dark and dangerous (buying a Pygmy Puff), Professor Weasley raised his wand to signal that he was starting class.

He started discussing familial curses, which Heeseung found especially interesting because he had almost considered a career path as a Curse-Breaker. It was a dangerous line of work, according to Professor Weasley, who used to be one himself before the second wizarding war, but Heeseung thought it was an honorable job to help remove dangerous curses.

Professor Weasley decided to stray from his usual ‘partner up with the person next to you’ and instead asked everyone to practice the Shield Charm with another student who was sitting around them. This, in turn, made Heeseung’s heart drop to his stomach.

If Sungchan wasn’t an option, then Heeseung was hoping he could partner with Seunghan. He quite liked the Hufflepuff, despite him being friends with the public enemy named Jake Sim. Seunghan had always been fun to talk to, and they became closer in fifth year when they were both sent to the infirmary and had beds next to each other. Madam Pomfrey was eventually tired of the two boys practicing jinxes on each other.

Sungchan and Seunghan partnered up almost immediately, and then the girl sitting in front of Heeseung had run off to her friend as soon as the words slipped from Professor Weasley’s mouth. There was no one else for him to turn to—no one but Jake.

“Do you have a partner yet?” Jake asked shyly, and Heeseung had to fight down a bitter retort; obviously he didn’t have a partner, or he would’ve gotten up by now. “We can practice together, if you want.”

Heeseung reluctantly got to his feet. “Sure.”

They were an odd pairing, for sure. Heeseung couldn’t help but feel awkward around Jake, and it seemed as if Jake felt the same way, even though he did his best to be overly-friendly.

Jake decided to be the one defending himself first, so Heeseung was graced with the opportunity to cast offensive spells at him all he wanted. He was having far too much fun casting Expelliarmus and Stupefy at Jake and watching the Hufflepuff draw his wand up just in time to shield himself.

“You’re really good at this!” Jake said, eyes wide with what Heeseung assumed was fear. “Do you duel often?”

“Not really,” he answered. “I just have good aim.”

“Quidditch.” He made the connection quickly with a far too happy look on his face. “I’ve seen you fly. You’re really good.”

Quit playing nice! Heeseung was yelling at him in his head. It was proving quite difficult to viciously attack the Hufflepuff while receiving compliments in return.

“Yeah?” Heeseung gritted his teeth. “Do you watch Y/N—Stupefy!—play?”

“Y/N?” Jake looked confused for a moment, but his smile never faltered. “Yeah, of course! I always support Hufflepuff.”

Oh, right. They were in the same house. Logically, this was where Heeseung should’ve backed off, but jealousy seized him by the throat and made his head go funny.

He sent another streak of orange light flying in Jake’s direction, aiming right for his perfect hair. Jake deflected it.

“Anyway,” Jake continued as he started to get the hang of performing wandless magic, “you guys are playing against Gryffindor next, right? I really think Slytherin’s gonna win. I mean, you guys have such a strong team, and…”

As he kept droning on about how great the Slytherin Quidditch team was, Heeseung couldn't help but feel a bit confused. He was here to intimidate the Hufflepuff, but now he felt like he was at some sort of meet and greet. Why was Jake so bent on praising the Slytherin team? Heeseung assumed that the whole incentive for Quidditch games was for house pride, but Jake seemed to be taking it way too seriously.

Come to think of it, Heeseung did find it strange that Jake had that defamatory newspaper clipping of Heeseung injured on the ground. Why would he specifically go looking for an article of the Slytherin team’s victory?

Heeseung lowered his wand when he heard a yelp to his right. Hong Seunghan had his wand raised over his head, a nearly-invisible shield circling his body that Heeseung could vaguely make out under the lamp light.

“Watch it! This isn’t target practice, Heeseung!” Seunghan cried, looking absolutely distressed as he hastily adjusted his yellow-trimmed robes.

Heeseung’s Stunning Spell would’ve hit Seunghan if he hadn’t reacted in time. On one hand, he felt bad; on the other hand, he really thought Seunghan should’ve been patting himself on the back for his quick reaction time instead.

“My bad,” Heeseung mumbled. So much for his so-called good aim.

“And you,” Seunghan said—to Jake, this time, “stop distracting him with all your Quidditch talk!”

Yeah, you tell him, Seunghan, thought Heeseung, who actually quite enjoyed talking about Quidditch.

To his surprise, Jake’s face started to flush pink. “I-I’m not trying to distract him or anything… I was just making conversation.”

Seunghan threw him a lazy smirk before turning back to Heeseung and rolling his eyes playfully. “Put him out of his misery and set him up with your friend, will you?”

“What?” Heeseung couldn’t stop himself from fuming at Seunghan’s words. The fire in his chest ignited once more, blazing with the heat of a thousand suns.

Sungchan, who had been waiting patiently to attack Seunghan, rubbed the back of his neck. “Er—can we get back to—”

“Seunghan, drop it already,” Jake pleaded, his voice growing smaller and smaller. “It’s not happening.”

Seunghan shrugged and returned to blocking Sungchan’s attacks. The two of them seemed to be having fun with the exercise, at least. Heeseung and Jake were a disaster; Heeseung was far too vexed to think straight, and Jake was as bashful as a first year.

“You can ask her yourself, you know,” Heeseung said coldly, shooting a jet of red light in Jake’s direction. Jake barely managed to cast his shield in time to deflect Heeseung’s spell.

“I can’t,” Jake replied, all meek and timid again, which made Heeseung’s blood boil.

He saw how comfortable Jake was around you, so why was he acting like this now? He was comfortable enough to walk up to you while you were with another guy; he was comfortable enough to keep eye contact while you smiled so radiantly at him; and he was comfortable enough to ask you to go to Hogsmede with him, so why was this such a big deal?

Heeseung felt sick to his stomach. He wanted this class to be over so that he could go to his dormitory and wallow in his miserable state.

Jake sighed wistfully. “She probably has no idea I even exist.”

Heeseung blanked.

He tossed around Jake’s words in his head a couple of times, trying to make sense of what he was saying. Heeseung perfectly understood being shy around a crush, but wasn’t this a bit much? From what he had observed, you most definitely knew of Jake’s existence.

Still confused, Heeseung replied, “I’m pretty sure she does.”

“Really?” Jake’s voice was louder, more hopeful. “She does? I mean, I guess she has to know I exist since we’re in the same class and all, but has she… has she ever mentioned me?”

Heeseung wondered if he should just stun Jake and leave class early.

Deciding against it for the sake of not receiving another week of detention, he answered, “Well, yeah, a couple of times.”

“Really? What did she say?”

“Uh…” Heeseung scratched his head as he tried to remember. “Something about telling you how I set off Dungbombs in Filch’s office.”

It was Jake’s turn to look confused.

“That was Y/N,” he said.

“Yeah, I know.”

“Wait, did you think I was talking about Y/N this whole time?”

Heeseung had to duck this time when his spell rebounded off of Jake’s shield and went flying in his direction. He stood up straight again, this time with his eyebrows furrowed and his ears bright red from realizing that he was about to embarrass himself yet again.

“You’re not?” he asked.

“No!”

“Then who are you talking about?”

“M-Minjeong,” Jake stammered out. “Kim Minjeong.”

Heeseung stared at him. For a moment, he wasn’t even sure if this was reality; this could have all been some hyper-realistic dream—one of those absurd ones that hardly made sense but left him gasping for air when he woke up.

But Heeseung’s feet were planted firmly on the ground and he had all ten of his fingers, so this couldn’t be a dream. Yet, when he drew in a shuddering breath, he couldn’t shake off the feeling that something was very wrong about this whole thing. Had he really been wrong about Jake Sim this entire time?

Also Minjeong? When he was friends with you? Heeseung wasn’t one to judge people’s tastes, but he’d swim oceans for you yet hardly cross a puddle for Minjeong. (Perhaps that was just because he resented the Slytherin girl for always making fun of his Quidditch screw-ups.)

So that was why Jake had been overly-invested in the Slytherin team. He wasn’t a Quidditch-fanatic whose house pride flew out the window; he was just harboring a crush this whole time! Heeseung was so relieved that the inferno in his chest had quelled.

In fact, he was so relieved that he let out a shaky laugh without having half the mind to hold it in. Jake must have thought Heeseung was making fun of his crush, but Heeseung couldn’t help but laugh and laugh about how pathetic he had been this whole time. He had lost sleep over Jake Sim, only for him to like someone completely different.

How ridiculous.

Heeseung crossed the distance between them and patted him firmly on the back, taking the Hufflepuff by surprise. “Minjeong, huh? I’ll introduce you.”

Jake’s eyes shone. “You will?”

“Of course I will. Now, tell me,” Heeseung started, his voice taking on a serious edge as he slung an arm around Jake’s shoulders, “where did you get your robes?”

It was such a lovely day outside; the grass was greener, the skies were bluer, and there wasn’t a single cloud in sight—perfect weather to fly. Heeseung could even hear the birds singing as he strode down the hallway, trying very, very hard to keep himself from skipping.

He wasn’t even trying to eavesdrop, but he picked up on the conversation a couple of fifth years were having nearby.

"—heard they both had to go to the infirmary!” one of them whispered to the other. “It was that bad!”

“Over a silly game?” The other girl, who Heeseung named Girl Two in his head, scoffed. “I’ll never understand Quidditch.”

Girl One shook her head. “Not over the game. It was over Lee Heeseung.”

Heeseung, who was slowly realizing that he was the Lee Heeseung they were gossiping about, suddenly felt very engaged in this conversation that he wasn’t part of. His guilty pleasure happened to be listening in on all of the scandalous happenings at Hogwarts. For him to be indirectly involved was even more exciting.

“Lee Heeseung?” Girl Two frowned. “Why would Y/N pick a fight over Lee Heeseung?”

He nearly tripped over his own feet. Heeseung had to scurry behind a pillar before anyone saw him blushing like a madman, but now he was worried about how strange it looked for him to be spying on a couple of fifth years from behind a pillar.

Yet, he couldn’t bring himself to pull away. You fought someone? And you were in the infirmary? His sick happiness was quickly replaced with dreadful worry.

(But he also wasn’t too worried; you could clearly handle your own.)

“No clue,” Girl One said. “I suppose they’re dating.”

Heeseung couldn’t stop the giggle from escaping his lips. He clamped a hand over his mouth as soon as it slipped out, and Girl One and Girl Two looked around suspiciously.

“Who was that?” Girl Two asked sharply.

“Must be that Ravenclaw girl,” Girl One replied bitterly, taking her wand out of her robes.

Heeseung had no idea who ‘that Ravenclaw girl’ was referring to, but he knew that he was no longer safe in their vicinity. After casting a Disillusionment Charm on himself, he fled the scene immediately, only removing the charm once he was safely down the hall.

He hadn’t even realized his heart was racing faster than it ever had in his life until he found himself sprinting in the direction of the infirmary.

“Mr. Lee, no running in the halls!” Professor Longbottom cried over his shoulder, gripping the pot of a Mandrake tightly. “That’ll be five points from—oh, forget it.”

Madam Pomfrey looked unsurprised to see Heeseung walking in, all sweaty and panting. She simply pointed in the direction of where your bed was and walked off to tend to some second year who, judging by the twigs in his hair, decided to test his luck with the Whomping Willow.

You were sulking in bed, turned on your side so that your back was facing Heeseung. It looked like you were mostly unscathed, but when Heeseung rounded the corner of your bed, all he could see was red when he noticed the cut on your lip and gash on your cheek.

“Heeseung!” you gasped, sitting up straight so that you could swing your legs off the bed. “How’d you know—”

“Who did this?” he asked angrily, drawing out his wand and looking around the infirmary. He remembered Girl One saying that both parties were sent to the infirmary, so they must have still been around. “Who hurt you?”

“It’s not that bad, I just—”

“Not that bad?” he repeated louder. “You’re hurt!”

“It’s not that bad,” you said again, quieter. You held onto Heeseung’s bicep with gentle hands, which happened to immediately calm him down. “Sit.”

Heeseung sighed and sat down on the edge of your bed. He had felt remarkably happier after finding out that Jake did not, in fact, have a thing for you, but now he was riled up again. He wondered what you thought about Jake, but then Heeseung wondered why you were picking fights over him.

“It was the Seeker from the Gryffindor team,” you told him in an oddly calm voice, although he couldn’t help but notice how you were fiddling with your fingers too much. “She was talking down on you during class, so I picked an argument with her after class. That’s how I got these.” You pointed at the cuts on your lower lip and cheek.

“But you don’t need to worry about her; she’s worse off than I am. I got her with a knee-reversal hex,” you said with a sheepish grin. “Let’s see how she flies after this.”

Heeseung stared at you. “You’re insane.”

“I believe the words you’re looking for are thank—”

“I love you.”

He believed he said it very, very softly, but his words echoed in his head so loudly that Heeseung couldn’t be completely sure that he hadn’t yelled it for the infirmary to hear. If it weren’t for the second year complaining loudly about how unsafe it was to have a murderous tree on school grounds, then Heeseung was sure the room would have been dead silent following his confession.

You didn’t move. The worst was happening right now; Heeseung had boldly blurted out his feelings just for you to not answer him and soon hate him for the rest of your life. It was fine. You two would graduate soon. He would no longer have to see you again, even though the smell of lavender would be a constant reminder of his first love and first heartbreak. He would die alone now. Oh, and he’d have to tell his parents with deep regret that they would not have grandchildren.

“Heeseung,” you whispered, and your lips started framing soundless words that you couldn’t get out.

The cat was out of the bag, so all Heeseung could do was stand up and own up to his words.

“You were right,” he said. “My Amortentia did smell like lavender—like you.”

He grabbed the rag on the table next to your bed, soaking it in water and wringing it out. Normally, Heeseung would have been shaking like a leaf, but he was oddly calm as he delicately held your chin, tilting your head to the side enough to get a good look at you.

“I must’ve fallen in love with you years ago—maybe even from the first time you tripped me at the Sorting Hat Ceremony,” he said softly as he dabbed at your fresh cut, and although your eyes were wide and glossy, you hardly even flinched. Heeseung was pretty sure he had never even admitted what he said out loud to himself. When he was done and set the rag aside, he said, “So… glad I got that out before I kept it to myself for the rest of my life. I’ll get going now and hopefully not kill myself on the way.”

He hurried past Madam Pomfrey, making eye contact with no one except the Gryffindor Seeker, whose knees were bent at an awkward angle. She leered at him, to which Heeseung paid no attention because he had far bigger things to worry about, like the fact that his life was over.

Before he got all the way down the hall, though, he heard footsteps getting louder and louder. When he turned to see you speeding after him, Heeseung panicked and started running himself.

“Why are you running?!” you cried.

“Why are you chasing me?!” he yelled back.

“Stop running! Get over here, Lee Heeseung!”

“No!” He was very embarrassed to note that his voice did indeed crack. “I’m scared!”

“Colloshoo!”

It was like he had rammed right into a wall. Heeseung felt like his shoes were glued to the floor, and, with a grunt, he ended up falling forward and landing on his face when they wouldn’t budge. If only you had waited to hex him after he reached the grassy outdoors instead of the hard, stone flooring of the breezeway.

“You hexed me!” He turned to look at you, exasperated. “How could you hex me after hexing someone for me?!”

“Now stay there.”

“No.” Stubborn, Heeseung started walking ahead—right down to the Great Lake so that he could wallow in embarrassment in that particularly nice patch of grass. He abandoned his shoes and trudged ahead in his socks. “And don’t follow me!”

“Heeseung,” you warned.

He groaned and turned on you just before he was looking forward to sitting down on the grass, pointing an accusatory finger at you. “You—you’re terrible luck, you know that? Sheer bad luck. You know I’ve lived eleven years of my life perfectly fine until you showed up? Suddenly, everything goes wrong when I’m around you! And it’s not just missing the Hogwarts Express or blowing up a potion, it’s everything else!”

You calmly listened to him as he continued in his wild craze, “I can hardly breathe when I’m around you! I can’t even look at you for too long, or else I’ll probably combust. You make it so impossible for me to stay away from you, even though the very thing I need for the sake of my sanity is to stay away from you!”

“Are you done now?” you asked calmly, not quite breathing as hard as he was, but your chest was still rising and falling as if you were winded from running.

“Yes,” he said, “so I’ll go drown myself in the—”

Before he could finish the rest of his sentence, you grabbed Heeseung by the front of his robes and pulled him down to kiss him senseless. He thought he had been hit with a Stunning Spell from how still he was, but when he realized that this was real life and you were indeed kissing him, his hand made its way to cradle your jaw as he kissed you back with searing passion.

He was ashamed to say that he had dreamt about this scenario many times, charted all of his next moves in great detail, and fantasized about doing much more than he’d like to admit. Heeseung felt like his heart was going to burst out of his chest, but he kept his lips pressed to yours like it was the only thing keeping him tethered to reality.

This was everything and more than he ever expected. He was certain he could never grow tired of the taste of your lips, and he was honestly scolding himself for not having done this sooner.

Your arms naturally found their way around his neck, and Heeseung took that as his cue to drop his to your waist. Still locked in a tight embrace, you pulled away to catch your breath, leaving Heeseung to chase after your lips.

“—Great Lake,” he finished his sentence in a breath, “and hopefully get eaten by the Giant Squid—”

“Oh, shut up,” you cut him off to kiss him again.

Heeseung had no further objections. He supposed this meant that he had the shiny new title of being your boyfriend, which he considered a higher honor than Quidditch Captain. This was saying a lot because Quidditch Captains got to use the really nice bathrooms.

Your kiss was slower this time, as if you both realized you had all the time in the world. And when you both finally broke apart, Heeseung let his fingers trace the outline of your lips to commit its shape to memory.

This time when you smiled, it was far brighter than any Patronus Charm he had ever seen.

“I love you, too,” you told him with a shy grin. “Always have.”

“Seriously?”

“Since our first year. Tripping you was by accident, of course. I just thought you were cute.”

Heeseung was pretty sure the average wizard's heart couldn’t handle this overload of emotions. In a few seconds, he was sure he would need to be admitted to the infirmary himself.

Then, you punched his shoulder. Hard.

“If you didn’t Disapparate on the spot back in Hogsmede, then maybe I could've told you sooner!”

“It’s not like I wanted to Apparate away, but… but you put me on the spot!” he exclaimed. Heeseung let his shoulders sag. “Either way, I thought you liked Jake.”

“Jake?” You looked confused before you burst into laughter. “What made you think I liked Jake? He’s so clearly into Minjeong!”

It seemed to be that everyone thought the notion of Jake and you liking each other was absolutely ridiculous. If it wasn’t too late, Heeseung was up for pitching himself in the depths of the Great Lake.

Girl One and Girl Two would surely get a kick out of this.

“Okay, I get it. I’m stupid,” he said, but you wouldn't stop laughing. Heeseung sighed heavily as you wiped tears from the corners of your eyes. “Alright, that’s it, you’re so getting it.”

This time, he grabbed hold of your face (gently, of course, because he didn't want to add pressure to your gash), and he peppered kisses all over your face. You scrunched up your nose, giggling as Heeseung kissed your forehead, your nose, your cheeks, and then finally your lips.

And this—this moment he had been anticipating for seven years—was loads better than letting the Giant Squid eat him.

AUTHOR'S NOTE ▸ the next morning, heeseung wakes up and basks in the afterglow of finally confessing to the girl of his dreams!! jay hands him the paper during breakfast and a picture of his shoes glued to the floor is on the front cover. anyways i hope you liked this fic!! so fun to write because i'm deep in a harry potter phase (how did this happen??) but happy valentine's day & thank you for reading <3

FIC TAG LIST ▸ @jakeslvt @520studio @jlheon @enha-stars @leep0ems @velvtcherie @woninluv @jaeyunluvr @hotsforikeu @skzenhalove @baevsxii @alyssajavenss @lovialy @loljaeyunz

PERMANENT TAG LIST ▸ @mmsriza @changmin-wrlds @13isacoolnumber @from-xero @acciomylove @nyujjan @goldenhypen @bbanggami @notmangojuice @cb97curls @ily-cuz-i @jakeyuni @soobisms @rikibae @soobin-chois @sjyuniverse @outrologist @nabinthegardnn @viagumi @qolaroidlove @kpoplover718 @duolingofanaccount @jjongsha @teawithbucky @baekhyunstruly @mykalon @heelariously @ja4hyvn @candidupped @shmooooo @pr0dbeomgyu @heeyunkist @sunshine-skz @baekhyuns-lipchain @y4wnjunz

#enhypen imagines #heeseung imagines #heeseung fluff #enhypen fluff #heeseung x reader #enhypen soft hours #heeseung soft hours #enhypen blurbs #heeseung blurbs #enhypen oneshots #enhypen drabbles #heeseung oneshots #heeseung drabbles #enhypen scenarios #heeseung scenarios #enhypen reactions #heeseung reactions #lee heeseung #lee heeseung x reader

2K notes · View notes

martialartslover7 · 1 month ago

Text

Happy Birthday, Sakura. You deserve better.

You know me and Sakura have a troubled history together, but I will say, just for today, I really want to make peace with all this. Because, the more time passed, the more I realized, I was a dumbass for hating her this much to begin with. Since I neglected to remind myself of this shot of her, right here:

It may not seem like much, but remember the full context behind Sakura's tears here. Naruto is down in the dumps, but for her, it's not a mere obsession with Sasuke that makes her react this way, that's oversimplifying it in the worst way possible. And I say this, because let us not forget:

She feels responsible for this entire mess to begin with.

This is why she is crying. Put yourself in her shoes for a second, leaving all your personal disdain for her character side, imagine:

The love of your life left, for reasons, far beyond your control, making you feel like, not even your feelings for him could make him stay

The entire retrieval mission that you have insinuated, because you want him to see reason, and it ending in failure

Even worse than that, all the shinobi sent to bring him back, return crippled, like, being in the worst state imagineable, and you feel responsible, because they nearly died for a guy, you always believed in

She trained her ass off for three whole years, she became this strong, hoping to no longer be a liability

But what happens? It worked against one Akatsuki, but against the boy she loves, she couldn't do anything, he was way too strong

And let us not forget, before even getting there, your friend nearly injured you, losing complete control over his own emotions, feeling like a failure for not being able to bring your love, who is also his bro, back home, and the promise puts so much pressure on him

And then, they fail AGAIN

All this circus, all this hard work, just HOPING to do something, only for it to end in failure.

Again.

And again.

AND AGAIN.

Now tell me, would you still be able to keep your tears from falling by that point? And questioning your sanity, and your abilities and self-worth? Because those had always been major weaknesses of Sakura. So, losing THIS badly again, must have broken her spirit in ways, that is tough to comprehend. As always, she feels useless, despite having become stronger and better as a person and shinobi, and yet, her best is just not good enough.

Also, I want you to put this in perspective, on all the reasons why you may hate her:

She loves Sasuke? Simp.

She never returns Naruto's feelings, despite him fighting so hard for her, despite her clearly not being interested? Thot.

She literally healed thousands of shinobi in her lifetime, especially during the war, saving Naruto's and countless other lives in the process? Still useless.

And every time someone tries to speak positively of her, all you do is consistently undermine her, even if she is right, or she does something cool and realistic, ALL. THE. TIME.

You consistently bring up "she treats Naruto badly", as if Naruto has ALWAYS been the innocent angel, considering how pushy he can be about his feelings towards her (she talked shit about Naruto as an orphan, ohhh, but let's conveniently forget that Naruto used the Transformation Jutsu to impersonate Sasuke, hoping to get a kiss from her, that's definitely not creepy at all!) and just, in general, being a complete asswipe at times, without even realizing it.

Please, give her another chance, and try to be lenient with her, even if not everything is put into pages or words about her character, considering how badly she has been fighting with feelings of inadequacy, never bringing the desired results, and yet still receiving hate from everyone in the fandom:

Think, before you start hating.

Happy Birthday, Sakura.

Someone like you is entirely wasted on the author and fandom you are stuck with.

PEACE.

#happy birthday sakura #sakura #sakura haruno #haruno sakura #pro sakura haruno #pro sasusaku #sasusaku #naruto #naruto manga #naruto shippuden #anti naruto fandom #naruto uzumaki #uzumaki naruto #birthday post

124 notes · View notes

wingedshadowfan · 5 months ago

Text

tw: the scene where caitlyn and maddie are in bed together

a friend is rewatching arcane s2 rn and pointed out that even though it's very dark and kind of hard to tell, the room caitlyn and maddie are in in that scene doesn't look like caitlyn's room!!

now this might be a false alarm but if it isn't, here's what that implies:

caitlyn didn't let maddie into her actual bed (we all cheered!). now i very seriously doubt they're in maddie's house for reasons of wealth and convenience, which means there are like three possible ways things could've gone down w/ caitlyn and maddie sleeping together.

1) most likely caitlyn (and maddie, individually) took a guest bedroom somewhere in the council building, which means she's been so busy with the zaun invasion in pursuit of jinx, she literally hasn't been home and sleeping in her own bed (which is just sad because it implies overworking herself and disconnecting with her home and family, even the memory of the mother she's trying to avenge)

2) if this is just another room in caitlyn's house (which would be crazy, just imagine caitlyn's dad meeting maddie), has caitlyn been sleeping in her own bed when she's by herself and only going to this guest bedroom when maddie is with her?? that must've been so inconvenient and awkward to establish between them lol

3) if this is just another room in caitlyn's house and she hasn't been using it only when she's with maddie, that would imply she had the opportunity to sleep in her own bed (even without maddie) and she chose not to. could it be that after her fight with vi, caitlyn hasn't been sleeping in her own room in general because of the memories they shared there together?

i think 1) is the most likely, followed by 3) and then 2).

and lastly, let's remember that after the explosion that injures vi, caitlyn is sick with worry for her. jinx just surrenders and caitlyn can't even decide what to do with her - she's too worried abt vi recovering and likely wants it to be her decision too, having seen their family bond and truly understood now.

caitlyn most likely takes vi to a hospital/doctor and then takes her to her house, so she can ensure her safety. caitlyn who's been so busy she hasn't been sleeping in her own bed, is calling the enforcers out of zaun, and is preparing for war lets an injured vi sleep in her bed immediately, even before they've talked things out between them (which means a lot, esp if she never let maddie into her bed, or if she had right until now).

moreover, in the scene where vi wakes up and we see loris has been taking care of her too, we also see a bunch of throw pillows on the other side of the bed next to vi. they're obviously not for him. caitlyn has been sitting (not sleeping) there, taking care of vi even with everything else going on. waiting for her to wake up so she can make the call for what happens to jinx. true fucking love or whatever.

symbolically, caitlyn either returns to her house, to herself and her family (after seeing the love in vi's), to what matters, in order to take care of vi and because she's not commander anymore, at least not in the original intended way once jinx is captured and she calls off the zaun invasion, or she's still in a council bedroom because there's yet much work to do but has been finding time to come home and take care of vi despite that.

i also want to point out another thing. when vi wakes up and comes to confront caitlyn abt imprisoning jinx (which, honestly, is better than letting a random enforcer kill her or have her cause more damage which is what could've happened if she'd let her go, which caitlyn eludes to), maddie is already there in the room with caitlyn but we only see one chair. maddie isn't meant to be there in caitlyn's house. she isn't meant to sit down and make herself comfortable. (and yes, we see two chairs when ambessa comes to talk to caitlyn but it's also intentional what gets shown when). when caitlyn tells her, "check on my father?" and dismisses her before she has the chance to interact with vi, she means this is all her relationship w/ maddie is to her. and in the very end of the show when we see vi humming her mother's song to herself, she's in the same room. there are two chairs there now.

i'm so fucked but this is all speculation.

299 notes · View notes

skippingstonez · 3 months ago

Note

in The Minish Cap at the beginning during the festival if you interact with a specific woman she says 'they say the Minish bring happiness...I wonder when they will bring me mine'

Inspired by that, can I request that you write something about Four comforting Reader or lifting their spirits?

So I uhh, think I may have gone a bit hard on this one cause oof the beginning...it's rough. That being said Four is very comforting so just know it gets better! (Also, I'm apologizing to Wars now for making him the 'bad guy')

Unexpected Happiness

(Four x Reader) Chapter 1 / Next Warnings: Depressive thoughts, suicidal ideation (? I think that's the right term, correct me if I'm wrong)

There was a crack, then a cry as the ground gave way from underneath you.

A moment of weightlessness before you collided into dirt and stone. Skidding down the walls of the dark tunnel before coming to an agonizingly sudden halt. The world spun around you, a high pitched ringing in your ears that pounded at the pressure in your head. You laid there, with what you could only hope was mud, seeping into the back of your tunic. Rocks and broken pieces of wood digging into your skin, adding to the overall discomfort that was your existence.

The worst part was how unsurprised you were.

Even as your muscles ached, bruises forming deep beneath your skin and a warm liquid trickled down your leg. None of it compared to the numb void filling your being.

Nothing had been going your way.

From countless, sleepless nights that left you tired and unfocused. Regularly losing petty bets to Legend. Misplacing your bag of potions and fairies conveniently before getting attacked and injured by a lizalfos. Getting lost while exploring, falling ill, saying the wrong things or simply messing up in almost every way imaginable.

It seemed to all lead up to yesterday. When getting separated from the group led to an intense scolding by Wars, in front of everyone. It hadn't even been your fault. It's not like you controlled where the portals spat you or anyone else out. A fact you had kept to yourself in the onslaught of being told how irresponsible and foolish you were.

Day after day, after day you waited for things to turn around. Sure, some days were better than others but after so long you came to the simple conclusion that you must have done something. Something so awful that it put you straight on Hylia’s personal shit list.

You took shallow breaths, slowly assessing yourself beginning with your toes and moving upward to your knees. Then your fingers all the way up to your shoulders. Moving each joint and limb to determine its current functionality. By some miracle, nothing seemed broken. Though the intense stabbing around your hip suggested that something had lodged straight through your layers of clothes and made itself at home in your skin.

There was something, some noise beyond the ringing in your ears that your brain couldn't quite make out. It felt familiar, made you want to reach out to it.

You rolled onto your side instead, groaning in pain as you curled into yourself. You peeled open your eyes long enough to see the broken remains of the floorboards scattered around you. Each piece doubling, or tripling in numbers that all swirled around, making your brain hurt even more from the dizzying sensation.

You shut your eyes, holding your head as if it would break into similar pieces. Coherent thoughts struggled to break through the thick fog that surrounded your brain. Survival instincts begged you to move, to reach for your bag, call out for help, something.

A warm wetness slid down the slope of your nose. It's small droplets disappearing onto the ground of mud and rocks.

A noise. A shout, you realized, rang out. Louder than before but still much too far away to make out what was being said.

Or maybe it was you who was too far gone. Your brain, perhaps now too damaged to comprehend simple sounds and words. Just another thing that had gone wrong. You ignored the sound, sniffling at the tears tickling the tip of your nose. Surely if you couldn't understand you wouldn't be able to respond so what was the point in trying?

Because you need help!

True. With the amount of pain you were in, you would need help if you wanted to get out of here.

But,

Did you want out?

What was even waiting for you out there? More portals and monsters? More mistakes and misfortune that put you and those around you in jeopardy? More pain?

Your friends! Your friends are out there and there looking for you!

Were they? Wasn't it your ‘friend’ that had gotten angry at you? Everyone else had just stood there, listening to him tear into you. Was it because they agreed? Had they all realized how truly useless you were? This was their chance. An opportunity to be rid of you. To continue the journey without the constant worry of your mistakes.

They wouldn't! They-

“(Y/N)!!!”

The shouting from before continued, getting louder and clearer with each cry. It sounded so familiar, like you knew the voice yet couldn't recall who it belonged to.

“(Y/N) Please! Are you down there!?”

The voice echoed through the area. Concern dripping off every word as it continued to call out to you.

“Guys they're not answering! (Y/N)!?”

Your mouth opened, a small part of you wanting to reach out and answer. You laid there, unable, or maybe just unwilling to do so as your mouth snapped shut.

“Uugghhh it's too dark, I can't see anything! I'm gonna go down further, see if I can find them!”

You knew you should be thrilled at the prospect of help, but you couldn't bring yourself to care anymore.

Getting rescued or simply being left stranded down here, it all felt the same to you. You were simply done trying. Content that whatever would happen was simply the way things were going to be.

You curled further into yourself, letting the numb fog continue to spread through you. Everything felt too tight, like your skin was constricting in on itself. A lump forming in your throat that suffocated even the quiet sound of your still too shallow breathing.

A small thud, followed by the sound of boots squishing in mud as a yellowish hue poked at your eyelids.

“(Y/N)! Guys I found them!”

Hands gently grabbed your shoulders, pulling you to lay on your back. Calloused fingers dancing over your face. Whoever it was took in a sharp breath. Maybe you were worse off than you initially thought if the person was recoiling at the sight of you.

“(Y/n) are you okay? Can you hear me?”

A face appeared in your mind at the sound of his voice beside you. Was that..that was Four, or at least you were fairly sure. Why did he sound so worried?

Oh right, you fell through the floor.

“(Y/n)? Shit…okay focus Link…uhhh okay, breathing…thats gonna be a problem but…atleast everythings intact?” You could only listen as he rambled to himself. Checking you over for any obvious injuries.

“Come on,” He pleaded, “why aren't you waking up? Wake up! Please wake up!” He chanted, repeatedly tapping the side of your face.

You were awake. You were painfully awake despite every part of your body wishing that you weren't. You just wanted it to all stop. To be left alone to whatever hell Hylia wanted to inflict on you.

“Damn it, where's that fairy? I swore I had one!” The hands left, likely looking through his bag for something to help you.

It felt selfish to let him waste a fairy on someone who wasn’t even trying to save themself. Getting yourself to speak up however would be a battle within itself.

For Fours sake, you repeated to yourself as you pried your mouth. If you couldn't do it for yourself you could still try and do it for him. The lump in your throat felt like solid stone, letting only the faintest whisper escape.

“fo..four?”

“(Y/N)! Oh thank Hylia! Are you okay!?”

Damn that felt like such a loaded question right now.

Using all of your strength you cracked open your eyes. Four's face hovered above you, illuminated by the small lantern by his side. His eyes focused on yours, green and violet specks waiting for a reply.

The sight made your throat burn. Vision blurring as tears built up in the corners of your eyes. Four's hand found your face, thumb wiping away the few that slid out.

“Hey, it's gonna be alright. I'm right here okay? I’m gonna get ya out of here.”

“why…”

Four tilted his head, “Cause I'm pretty sure you don't wanna spend the rest of your life in a cave?”

Lips beginning to quiver, tears poured down your face. “It doesn't matter what I want…”

“Woah,” he said gently “(y/n) what do you mean? Of course it matters”

You shook your head, the motion only aggravating the pain. “no, it doesn't. Everything I do just…I just make things worse!”

The lump in your throat cracked as words began pouring from your mouth. “Just go…I'm better off down here where I can't mess everything up. I mean, what's the point of trying if I can't even walk across a floor without messing it up somehow!?”

It was like your whole body shattered. The pain, the struggle, all of it came rushing out of you in a waterfall of tears. Your hands flew to your face, trying to pretend that you could still hide it all away. Pretend that Four wasn't here to witness yet another one of your failures.

“Wars was right…” you choked. “I'm just a screw up..”

Hands tugged at your wrists, pulling them away from your face. They pulled further, slowly helping you sit up until you rested against Four’s chest. His arms wrapped around you to hold you close as you cried. He put your head on his shoulder, letting your face fall into the dip of his neck.

“(Y/n) I'm so sorry. I should have said something yesterday because nothing he said was true. None of it was your fault and he knows it. We ALL know that.”

There was a bite to his voice as sharp as his hold on you. His eyes were a shimmering mix of blue and green that reminded you of the ocean.

“The Captain is an ass and just let his worry get the best of him. You are NOT a screw up and ohhh when I get back up there the Captain better-” Four trailed off, mumbling off rather colorful words he would be having with Wars.

He inhales sharply, slowly releasing his breath as you cried into his shoulder.

“That aside, You're in pretty rough shape.” He whispered, “Can you tell me what hurts?”

“Everything”

“Oookay not the best question” He huffed lightly. “The board in your hip doesn't seem too deep but we need to take care of it before it gets infected. Is there anywhere else that hurts more?”

“H-head…”

“Mmmm…it might be a concussion if you hit your head hard enough which, given how far you fell is more than likely. A potion should still be able to help though along with anything else.”

You whined as your face was pulled from his neck, tears still flowing freely as you were laid back down. There was no real warning before Four pulled out the plank, leaving you shouting out in pain. Something smooth and cold pressed to your bottom lip, urging you to open your mouth. You loosely grabbed at the bottle, taking a few sips of the bitter liquid. Four pulled it away once satisfied you had drunk enough, then helped you sit back up to let you continue to rest against him.

The pain dulled soon enough, leaving only the numb discomfort in its wake. Four held you close to him, his hand running up and down your arm soothingly. Your injuries may have healed but you were bone tired and still had no desire to move from where you still sat on the cold ground. The only warmth coming from the small lantern and Four's form wrapped around you.

“Have I ever told you about the Minish?”

You knew he was just trying to distract you but you went along with it. Giving a small shrug as your tears soaked into his tunic.

“The r-really tiny…mice like people?”

“Eehhh close enough. Anyway, they are really well known in my era. They actually played a big part in my first quest.”

You peeled your face away just enough to look up. His eyes shining a brilliant redish-purple as he continued on.

“Because they're so small though, most people haven't actually seen them. But they're known for bringing luck and happiness to everyone they do meet.”

“Is that true?” You asked quietly, wiping your sleeve over your face. “That they bring happiness?”

Four nodded, a hand coming up to run through your hair. “In a way. The Minish thrive off of bringing joy to those around them but they can be quite sneaky about it.”

You hid your face into his shoulder. Hopefully hiding the new swell of tears in your eyes.

“Oh…I, I dont think they exist in my era..”

“What makes you say that?”

You shrugged, trying to play off the tightening in your chest. “Cause if they do, why do I feel so miserable?”

Arms tightened around you with a deep sigh, letting his head rest on top of yours. “Do you wanna know what I think?”

You nodded.

“I think it's bullshit.”

Your head shot up, staring at him in confusion. “But you just said-”

“I know what I said but hear me out.” He grabbed onto your hands, holding them in his lap.

“What I said is true, the Minish love to help and bring joy to people when they can. But they don't magically just make you happy. Happiness is something you have to find for yourself. The Minish more or less guide you to it.”

Four paused, his eyes swirling between a mix of green and red as he bit his lip. Something he only does when he can't quite make up his mind.

“I..I think they led me to you.”

The admission took you by surprise. The concept that you could be someone's happiness felt so…bizarre. Regardless, the grief on your heart loosened. It was still there, laying heavy on your mind but you felt like you could finally breathe again. It was a small step, but it was a start.

“I know things have been hard on you lately but…by the Three (Y/n) you make me so inexplicably happy just by being you.”

His lips pressed against your forehead. It's warmth spreading across your face and up to the tips of your ears

You wincing slightly at the way your head spun and you didn't know if it was from the adrenaline or the concussion.

“We should probably get you out of here.” Four got to his feet, offering you his hand. “You ready?”

Part of you still said no. Not wanting to face the others and a potentially ‘worried’ Wars again. You took his hand anyway and slowly got to your feet, letting yourself finally look around at your surroundings for the first time since your crash landing.

From what you could see, the cave wasn't very big but it had been a much longer fall than you realized. The fact that you were even standing was a tender mercy. The small speck of light coming from above only noticeable from where it stood out against the dark, mossy covered walls.

“Shit…I think I hit my head harder than I even realized.” You chortled, swaying on your feet as Four helped steady you. “How did you even get down here?”

“Rancher’s hookshot” He said, casually showing off the borrowed item. He slipped it into his hand, raising it upwards before it shot up, latching onto whatever was awaiting at the top.

—------

Getting back up turned into its own ordeal. With your strength still gone, Four had carefully situated you on his back. His power bracelet activated to keep a firm grip on you just in case.

He took it slow, reeling the two of you up carefully. Every shake and stutter of the chain made him tighten his grip on you. Pausing for a moment before continuing the descent up. Once close enough, Time reached through the opening and pulled you up the rest of the way, Twilight doing the same for Four.

He waved off Twilight and Wind’s concerns, insisting that he was fine. Time and Wild crowded around you, taking it upon themselves to check and make sure you were alright while the others tried, and failed, to give you space.

Four didn't take his eyes off of Wars

He didn’t miss the way you kept eyeing the scarfed hero, as though awaiting yet another stern scolding. It took everything he had to keep Blue from tearing the man apart right there and then. The memory of your sobs and broken voice, agreeing to all the offhanded insults he had thrown at you only adding fuel to the fire that Green and Red were desperately trying to reason with.

The Captain did eventually step towards you and Four got straight to his feet, a hand planted firmly on Wars chest to keep him from getting any closer. To his credit, Wars didnt look angry. He genuinely looked concerned but Four wasn't about to take any chances with any of them saying the wrong thing. Not with how fragile he knew you really were at the moment.

“A word. Captain.”

Wars cocked his head curiously but followed after Four silently until they were out of earshot.

“What do you need, Smithy?”

Four took a deep breath, hands clenched into fists at his sides. “The only thing you are going to say to them, is a fucking apology.” He spat, “And then you are going to leave them the hell alone for a bit.”

Wars eyebrows shot up to his hairline. “Four what-”

“You weren't down there, Wars.” His own voice shook, holding back the own stinging at his eyes. “You didn't have to hear the way they cried or how they wanted to just be fucking left down there because of something you said!”

Wars was still for a while, taking in what Four had just told him. His gaze solely on the ground beneath his feet as he tried to compose the right words. “I'm sorry. You're right I shouldn't have yelled at them yesterday. I…I didn't think they would take it so..”

“I know you didn't mean it.” Four heaves deeply, trying to put a reign on his own feelings. “And it's not all your fault, it just was sort of a final straw for them with all the shit they've been getting lately.”

Four took a few steps back, peeking around the corner where he could see Time still helping you get cleaned up.

“Just…you need to apologize to them. Not right now but…perhaps later tonight when this whole thing has calmed down a bit.”

Wars nodded, leaving Four to walk back to the group alone. He found a spot next to you, sitting down close enough to be within reach but not overwhelm you.

“Doing okay?”

You nodded, a faint smile as you looked at him to mouth a small “thank you”.

He scooted a bit closer, ignoring the glances of the younger heroes as you laid your head back onto his shoulder.

“Anytime. I’ll always be here for you.”

______

You are loved! So please take care of yourselves and reach out if you need help <3 If anything, know this author is rooting for you!

#giggle requests #link x reader #lu four #four x reader #lu four x reader #hurt/comfort #dont write during a breakdown kids #Blue is trying to give Wars a piece of his mind #Wars being an accidental villain

114 notes · View notes

vigilante24ish · 6 months ago

Text

🌙 Moon Phases 🌙

Agatha Harkness X Fem!Reader

Chapter 1. - Chapter 2. - Chapter 3

Chapter 4. - Chapter 5. - Chapter 6

Chapter 7. - Chapter 8. - Chapter 9

Chapter 10. - Chapter 11. - Chapter 12

Chapter 13. - Chapter 14. - Chapter 15

Chapter 16. - Chapter 17.

Word Count: 1521

Chapter 17:

The lyrics left Agatha's lips smoothly, her good voice once again echoing across the room.

I have learned the lesson

Of all that's foul and fair

Our love was forged in Fire

Water, Earth, and Air

The spell is cast how long it lasts

I can not divine...

While other times you would let her voice enchant and put you in some sort of trance, this time you fought it.

Your fingers moved across the strings on their own, though more than once you dared to glance at them to ensure you were focusing on the right notes.

Who knew what would happen if you played a note wrong.

As the song continued and Agatha sang louder, you all joined her; once again backing her up like the first time you summoned the Road.

Yet despite the singing, everyone was on edge. Not only were they trying to see if they could spot this curse but also because of the raging fire that seemed to have started out of nowhere.

It spread almost all around and it was threatening to break your concentration, only for Agatha to snap and remind everyone to keep playing; the fire a clear sign that the curse was being harmed.

Close to the end, as Alice was getting carried away by the music; she dared to look up.

"The curse. I see it. I can see it." She exclaimed, and then something clicked in her mind. "I can kill it."

Your head snapped her way. "Then do it!" You barked at her, trying to be heard above the sound of music as the song was slowly coming to an end.

Wherever it may bend

I'll see you at the end

The last few lyrics came louder and louder, passion and need guiding the invincible magic emitted from all of you.

The loudest of all was Alice, now more determined than ever to defeat this curse for good; take revenge for her mother and every woman in her family that suffered because of it.

By the last lyric, Alice had spread her hands as flames seemed to erupt on and even behind her; giving quite a spectacle to all of you.

Once done, everyone exchanged looks; wondering if this was it or there was something more.

You did not feel the dark energy of the curse in the room, and something was telling you that you had been successful with this trial as well.

Your confirmation came as the metronome stopped ticking and he piano lid opened on its own, showing everyone a ladder and your way out.

"We did it!" Alice exclaimed, feeling lighter and stronger now that she had defeated the curse.

A smile formed on your lips and you looked at Agatha, who tried to hide her smile; though the relief was evident in her blue ones.

You had done it, you had finished one more trial and you were one step closer in reaching the end.

However, the good mood did not remain for something unexpected happened.

In the very next seconds, Teen collapsed on the ground; shocking everyone as you all rushed to check on him, worrying for the worst.

"Teen!" Alice exclaimed. "What happened?"

Agatha did not hide her worry this time. "What's wrong with him?"

Jen dared to move his coat to the side and her eyes doubled at the sight of a glass piece sticking into his flesh, blood slowlu coming out of it.

"He's bleeding."

You stared at the wound, feeling like an idiot for not spotting it right away. You should have, and yet you didn't, leaving the kid to loyaly play the guitar with you while fighting his injury.

"We've got to get him out of here." You ordered, and everyone nodded.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Working together, you all helpd carry the unconscious and injured boy out; before laying him on a big flat stone that had been conveniently appeared for you.

You were back in the woods, your clothes changed to normal but that was the least of your worries.

Your priority was to save Teen, though almost no one knew what to do. Jen made the mistake of pulling the glass piece out, only for the wound to get worse.

"There's so much blood." Agatha exclaimed, passing her hands through her thick hair while trying not to panic

Jen tried to put pressure on the wound, do her best to help stop the bleeding. "I got it." She snapped back.

It was not enough for Agatha. "What else can we do? What else can we do?"

Lilia looked at the boy and then at her. "He's young. He's strong..."

"Don't!" Agatha exclaimed, pointing a finger at the older woman. However, her expression did not remain cold for long as worry took over. "Don't." Her voice cracked.

You had never seen her that way, so vulnerable and open... it brought pain to your heart but also made you wonder what was the true connection between her and the boy.

To react such way... you felt there was more behind it, or you fear she was reacting due to her past trauma with her son; Nicholas.

The wound kept bleeding, and not even Jen could help, not without her magic. Fearing for the worst, Agatha turned to you.

"Please" she begged, using a tone you swore you would never hear before. "Please, save him" she continued, fully aware you could do something; he coven's last chance in saving him.

"Agatha -" You tried to stop her, for she seemed to have forgotten how you did not directly interfere with such things.

She did not let you continue as she moved to grab both your hands into hers. She looked deep into your eyes, doing her best to remain in control.

"I trust you. You can do this. Please... save him..." she begged once again, making it impossible for you to argue.

A lump formed at the back of your throat, and in the end, you nodded. "Okay," you sighed, and she let you go before taking a few steps back.

You turned to the other witches and walked closer to the flat stone, eyeing the bleeding wound and the unconscious boy. His skin was paler than before, and you swore he did not have much time to live unless you did something.

Ignoring the stares of the other women, you losesned your tie. In the process, your three phased moon necklace was drawn from its hidden place beneath your swirt; earning a silent gasp from Lilia, who noticed it first.

Next, your sleeves were pulled up all the way to your elbow; making visible a faint birth mark on the inside of your wrist; the same symbol of your necklace, forever imprinted on your skin.

You took a few deep breaths as you concentrated, feeling the faint moonlight coming from above. It passed through thick dark branches, forming beams of white light that fell on the small clearing and on you.

Your eyes closed, and you turned your palms to be parallel to the ground and to one another. Your fingers curled faintly as suddenly white magic started to form and gather at the space between your palms.

Jen and Alice gasped faintly when your white magic started to extend, creating thin branches of magical energy that passed next to them; illuminating faintly the dark atmosphere around you all.

Alice even dared to extend a finger, impulsively thinking of touching it, only for Jen to slap her wrist and pull it down; giving her a look.

Your eyes were half open, preventing the others from noticing your white irises as your magic rushed through your veins and your body. Slowly, you brought your hands towards the wound before flipping the palms so both were facing the injury.

You gently touched the wound, feeling the warm sensation of blood tickling your skin but you focused as your magic started to enter the boy's body; cleansing and cleaning his wounds.

Some white branches of it spread around the boy's body, giving him an ethereal look. One single strand reached his face before gently entering his nose.

The very next second, Teen took a deep breath; his chest rising and falling with it. Yet his head fell back in exhaustion and trauma, but he was alive.

You withdrew your bloody hands, allowing everyone to see that the wound was gone; a faint scar was the only reminder that it was once there.

"He should be fine. Just let him rest for a while" you explained as you looked at them, your eyes back to normal as your magic had disappeared; leaving the plain old you standing there.

"Thank you," Agatha muttered in a faint whisper, barely audible to the others.

You offered her a gentle small smile, all you could master at the moment. Seeing hope back in her blue eyes was the reward you did not need but also the reassurance that you had done right; acting and saving the kid.

Chapter 18

#agatha all along #i know jen healed Teen #but I wanted to give Reader sme credits #You have no idea how long I waited to publish this chapter #agatha spoilers #agatha harkness #agatha fanfic #agatha x reader #agatha harkness x reader #moon phases fanfic #marvel #kathryn hahn

149 notes · View notes

alostlovergirl · 11 months ago

Text

Marriage of Convenience

(Not my gif)

Loki Laufeyson x Reader

Summary: He really needs a wife.

Tags: arranged marriage, some of Loki questioning his feelings (?), reader questioning her feelings (?)

Note: This is going to have a few parts… so let’s see how much I can pump out of this story.

Part 2: The Marriage Pt3: The Sex

It started out as a simple suggestion. “If you want to be around her so much, why not marry her?”, more as an unfunny joke from his father rather than a suggestion and it earned an eyeroll from the teenage prince of mischief with a huff. He didn’t think about it, simply feeling seen and comfortable with his childhood best friend, spending all the time he was supposed to be training with her. She was a just a random villager that he met as a young child when she snuck into his room during a party his father threw. They have been inseparable since, building a nice friendship that would last for lifetimes as his mother would put it. This friendship also gained her family royal protection, keeping Loki’s friend safe from all harm that would be sent Asgard’s way. Now, since he was being forced into an arranged marriage to a woman he barely knew, he was starting to consider asking her to marry him.

He makes his way to the city, thinking about how he was about to ask her. Should he be direct about it? Or should he try to sugarcoat this as much as possible so that his friend wouldn’t think he was weird? It was a dire situation for him because he didn’t want to marry at all, he wanted to be free to do as he please, not have a wife or husband nagging him 24/7 about his kingly duties. He wanted a throne, but not like this. Thor gave up the throne, in pursuit of being a warrior that protects Asgard instead of a king, leaving the crown to the second and youngest son. This marriage came about for him to accept the crown, with a wife by his side or he could forget about even inheriting the throne. He walks past the townspeople, going towards a small stone house in the middle of the city, a smile gathering on his face. He was always excited, like a little puppy, to see his best friend cause its his little chance to be happy for a few hours a day. He made for his favorite woman no matter what he was doing, even if he was injured from a battle, he would limp his way to her to come lay on her couch, listening to her worry about his wellbeing.

He loved her… well being her friend. The two of them were perfect for each other, in more ways than Loki is ready to admit right now. He knocks on the door, standing back from her oak door, looking over the tidy little home she has made for herself. As soon as she opened the door, he is greeted by his smiling friend with a laundry basket being held into her hip by her forearm. “My prince.”

He snorts a reply. “You know I don’t like you calling me that...” That just made her laugh a bit, immediately letting the god into her home, closing the door and trapping in the warm air in her home. He liked being in her home. It was so much more comforting than his chaotic life of royalty. It was a nice place for him to relax, especially when she gives him an empty, golden mug and fills it with his favorite wine. “You owe me 90 coins for that expensive ass wine, mister.” She teases him, smiling before going back to her little area in the middle of her carpet, scrubbing at her clothes. Loki followed her into the laundry room and sits in a stool in the corner, resting the mug in between his leather cladded thighs, watching her wash her clothes vigorously.

“So, what brings you to my home, friend?” she asked, peering up at him as she scrubbed up and down with the soapy brush, hands already rough from the number of times she has scrapped herself. Her question fogged his mind because he never really thought about how he should ask her to marry him. He has never shown no type of interest towards her, considering he never let himself feel those types of feelings, making this more difficult to imagine her having a positive reaction to his proposal, but unless he marries the spoiled brat of a princess that he is going to be promised to soon, he better just come out with it. He takes a deep breath, picking up his mug and chugging it before putting it down on the floor. The God kneels in front of his friend, grabbing her hands from the warm water and squeezing them tightly. “I need your help... and this is not like me to ask for help as you know, but I am about to be promised to a woman that I simply cannot marry...”

Her eyebrow raised, confusion filling her face as soon as he grabbed her hands with such a tenderness that she had never seen. Loki, being a trickster, every time he has seen her, he has scared the living shit out of her. Now, here he was, unexpectedly popping up at her door and looking at her with such desperation in his eyes. Just how bad was this woman that he was being betrothed too? She relaxes her shoulders and looks at him, a nervous smile appearing on her face as she wonders how much trouble she is going to be in for the idea he is about to suggest. She was already on Odin’s trouble list. Nothing could have possibly prepared her for what he was about to ask her to do.

“I am going to invite you to dinner tonight... and I am going to propose to you in front of my father, mother, brother and my betrothed. It will pull me out the engagement with her and it will put me in an engagement with you.” He said it so casually, as if he wasn’t asking her to accept a marriage proposal to him and possibly uproot her peaceful life to being in the public eye 24/7. She went quiet, not sure how to respond and not making eye contact with him as she thought about the suggestion. “You are basically asking me to enter a fake marriage with you? Would we get married, Loki?”

He sighs, looking down a bit, losing a bit of his confidence. This is not like him at all. “I could try to hold it off as much as possible, but we would have to get married. See, my father has told me that I would have to inherit his throne to retire him and my mother. Thor would have been the perfect choice. Already married and the first son... but he gave up the throne, leaving me with the burden of finding a wife.” Her stomach was swirling with nausea and butterflies, thinking about how the hell she was supposed to handle the responsibility of being the Queen of Asgard. She has seen Frigga’s workload, and it is not nothing that she doesn’t ever want to inherit. Seeing her hesitance, he started to plead. “Please. It is a selfish request I ask of you, my dear friend… but I cannot marry that woman.” He held her hands, tighter. “She is annoying...”

She laughed, snorting a bit and breaking the tension in the room. “She is that annoying that you ask your friend to marry you?” she jokes, pushing her hands upwards and holding his forearms, leaning a bit closer to him. “If I do this for you, promise that it won’t get weird?”

He nods immediately, pulling her into a tight hug, grateful for her acceptance. “I promise, friend.”

When the night came along, the nerves were starting to set in. She was friends with Loki, but she had never been inside his private room and here she was, sitting there in a silk gown that was cold against her skin. She played drums on her thighs as she waited for Loki to get dressed for tonight’s dinner. She was about to proposed to… for the sake of her friend. She didn’t know why she was so incredibly nervous, enough to feel like she was about to throw up. “How do you sleep in here?!” she called out to her friend, who was with a servant in his giant closet. She was trying to break the mood with a little joke. “It seems so uncomfortable in here... I don’t think I would get a wink of sleep in here.”

It made Loki chuckle from the closet, a rustle of leather against leather being heard. “It’s comfortable... warm and the bed helps. I sleep like a brick most nights...” She giggles, running a hand through her hair. Even his voice seemed to calm her, making her smile more times than she wanted to admit. He finally steps out, dressed in his normal outfit, without the cape and hair slicked back with gel. His heavy horned crown sat upon his hair, framing him out perfectly. He gives her a little spin, fishing for some compliments. “How’d I look?”

“Like my Loki...” she hums, standing up, still a bit wobbly in the heels he had chosen to wear. He said it would impress his father if she stood a bit taller, almost the same height as Loki. She walked over to him, adjusting his crown and making it crooked on his head, earning a signature grin from him. Loki, since he has grown from the young boy that she befriended, has grown into a handsome young man. It made her feel something in the pit of her stomach that she ignored completely. “Seriously, you do look good. How do I look?” She gave him a little smile before pulling back from him, letting him see her outfit. He just smiles, eyes raking over her body in a, what he hoped, friendly way.

“Amazing.” He simply says.

He takes her warm hand into his cold ones, leaving the room with her. He enjoyed the little jokes she could make even before meeting his father, making him feel like something that he couldn’t ignore. The feeling made him feel nauseated and excited at the same time, leading her down the hall to the dining room. She looked absolutely ravishing in her dress, not helping the feeling. He straightened his posture as he could hear his father and the father of his betrothed laughing, heartily. The smell of meat and sweets filled his senses as he opened the door, leading his friend to her seat before taking his seat next to her.

The dinner went as expected, introducing herself to the king and queen in a respectful way. Saying hello to Thor and greeting the lady, who was giving her some death glares from across the table. She keeps her demeanor poised, something that she and Loki would laugh about later. When the proposal comes along, it comes after dessert and a little nod of approval towards his son from Odin. She could hear an audible breath from Loki as he stood up from his chair and moved it. He takes her hand, gently and lifts her up from her seat, pulling her almost too close to him, feeling his breath encase her face, making her shiver a bit. “Just act surprised... afterwards... I am going to kiss you to really sell it.” He whispered, looking into her eyes and making sure she understood her assignment. She nods, slightly and backs away from the prince, watching in fake surprise as he drops to one knee, spewing out some fake sympathy words. Hell, he even earned some fake tears from her as he opened the ring box. The story he was really trying to sell here was that two of them had been in a relationship for quite awhile before now and gods, was she selling it especially. A little squeal and an excited nod when he asked for her hand in marriage really made his betrothed, who they had totally forgotten about, angry enough to leave the room. The relief she felt radiating off his body was enough to relax her as he slid the ring on her finger.

She had totally forgotten about the kiss… she almost bit his lip when he did kiss her, pulling her in closer by her hips and her hands on his board chest. The kiss felt electric, feeling a wetness gather between her legs that she never felt for her friend. He pulls back, saliva connecting their lips and a weird look on her face that she had never seen before from Loki. It was like a hungry look… like that kiss had awoken something in him and it would have only gotten weirder if he wasn’t snapped back to the reality that he was standing in front of his parents and brother by them clapping.

She was now engaged to her best friend... Oh god, where does she go from here?

#marvel #new writer #x reader #loki laufeyson #loki god of mischief #loki of asgard #loki x reader #loki x you #loki odinson #arranged marriage #friends to lovers #new post

126 notes · View notes

keyboardsmashess · 2 months ago

Text

The Siren, or The Heart of the Matter

Chapter Twenty Three: The Appointment, or Therapy is One Hell of a Drug

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x OFC

Warnings: language, eventual smut, fluff, angst, canon-typical violence, implied abuse MINORS DNI. A/N: Hiiiii I stayed up way too late last night outlining the remainder of this fic and I am so excited for where we're going! CW for implied abuse and therapy chats. P.S. I made Cleo's playlist for bonus content (also posted separately) - listener beware, these jams are explicit

Summary: Bucky and Cleo try to learn how to be better at feelings. They have mixed results.

Chapter Directory

“So, are we going to talk about the haircut?”

Bucky shrugs noncommittally, studiously avoiding his therapist’s intense gaze.

Dr. Raynor sighs. “Let me rephrase that - talk to me about the haircut, James.”

Bucky folds his arms across his chest and slouches back in his seat. “Well, doc, sometimes people take these things called scissors and they -”

She cuts him off with a stern look. “James. You hate change, you hate strangers, and you hate people in your space. That makes this a pretty big deal, and I’d like to hear about it.”

Bucky rolls his eyes and pinches the bridge of his nose. “There was… an incident. Someone called me… that name.”

“Do you seek to protect her, Zimniy Soldat?” The Philosopher’s words jolted through Bucky as if he’d been shocked by a current of the man’s red electricity. He hadn’t heard that name - The Winter Soldier - since coming to live at the Avengers Tower. At least, he hadn’t heard it outside of his nightmares.

“Before you ask, I was completely fine. It was just surprising to hear, that’s all.”

Alone in his bathroom, Bucky braced himself with a hand on either side of the sink. Slowly, an inch at a time, he raised his gaze to the mirror. When he met the eyes of his reflection, he didn’t even hear the crack of porcelain as his metal hand squeezed tighter.

He shrugs. “I just realized, y’know, it was time for a change.”

On autopilot, Bucky stalked into the kitchen, opening drawers and cabinets at random. Whatever got in his way was tossed to the floor without another thought - cutlery and tupperware and takeout menus all forming a haphazard pile in the center of the kitchen. Finally, he spotted them. Right there at the kitchen sink, he made the first cut. Bucky didn’t need to look in a mirror - didn’t need to see the Soldier staring back at him - he just needed to fix this. Now.

“One of the Avengers knows how to cut hair, so I asked if she’d do me a quick favor. Not that I would’ve minded getting a stranger to do it - this was just more convenient.”

Bucky stared down at the pile of hair on his kitchen counter, feeling the uneven lengths with his right hand. He wiped at his face, realizing as wet pieces of hair came away on his fingers that he’d been crying. He dropped the scissors, not registering the clattering sound as they fell to the ground alongside all the other odds and ends he’d thrown to the floor.

He wiped at his face again, this time getting a bit of hair in his eye, and he screamed in frustration. It sounded like an injured animal, and he was grateful to Stark for having the good sense to soundproof these apartments. Bucky stalked back into the bathroom with half-closed eyes, banging into walls and furniture on the way, and rinsed his face at the sink. When he straightened and saw his reflection, a strangled sob escaped from the back of his throat.

“God, what am I doing?” he choked out, but his reflection gave him nothing in response. Knees buckling, he sank to the tiled floor of the bathroom and clutched his head in his hands. “JARVIS,” he called out. “Call Steve. Please, I need Steve.”

Dr. Raynor gives Bucky an appraising look that lets him know she doesn’t believe a speck of what he’s just said. “Okay, sure. We’ll pretend that’s how it happened. How did it feel letting this woman -”

“Cleo,” Bucky interjects before he can stop himself, and he hates the glimmer that appears in his therapist’s eye at the correction.

“Okay, how did it feel letting Cleo get close to you like that?”

“It was… fine.”

Bucky shivered as Cleo ran her delicate fingers through his hair - it had been so, so long since someone had touched him with this kind of gentleness, and he was almost angry with confusion at the unfamiliar sensation.

“Sorry if that tickles,” she said.

“It’s fine,” he responded, knowing he couldn’t tell her what was really going through his head. It’s perfect. It’s horrible. It’s ecstasy. It’s torture.

She cut his hair the way she moved through the world - quickly, confidently, and yet surprisingly gently.

“Fine?”

“Yep. Fine.”

Bucky hated how Cleo saw right through him - how she innately understood what set him off. He didn’t mean to hurt her, but when she asked him to talk about that name, he couldn’t help it - he lashed out, landing on the one thing he knew she wanted to talk about as little as he wanted to talk about the Soldier. And goddammit, she talked about it anyway.

He knew Cleo was holding things back when she talked about her stepfather - he knew it the way he recognized another soldier out in the world. He saw the haunted look in her eyes. He saw it, because he had it, too. Bucky wanted to push her - wanted to demand she tell him every detail so that he’d have a plethora of deeds to choose from when he tracked the man down and made him pay for whatever he’d done to give Cleo the countenance of someone who’d survived a war.

He wanted to push her, but when she stood firm, he found himself spilling his own guts instead.

“What did it feel like to trust another person to be that close to you?”

Bucky shrugs again - he shrugs a lot in Dr. Raynor’s office, mainly because he can tell it drives her nuts.

She sighs deeply. “James, you’re going to have to give me something here.”

He leans forward, resting his elbows on his knees. Maybe he’ll ask her, if only to get her off his back for the rest of the session… Yeah - he plans to ask Steve anyway, eventually. There’s no harm in one little question, right?

“Doc, how do I… Is there a way for me… Dammit, I don’t know how to say this.”

Dr. Raynor gives him a rare, patient smile. “Take your time, James. I’m not going anywhere.”

“D’you think, after everything I’ve done, I could, y’know… have someone? Does it make me horrible for wanting that, when everyone I- I’ve hurt doesn’t get to have it?”

She considers this for a moment, and Bucky appreciates that she doesn’t act smug about him cracking a little bit. “Do you think punishing yourself will bring anyone back, James?”

He shakes his head somberly. “Nothing will.”

Dr. Raynor nods. “Right. So, aside from making your amends.” She gestures at the book in Bucky’s lap. “There isn’t anything you can do to change the past.”

He scratches the back of his neck, unsure if he’s going to like where she’s going with this. “Right, so…”

“So why would you allow the past to ruin your future? Why keep making the same mistakes when you have an opportunity to do things differently?”

Bucky shakes his head and fiddles with the pages of his little notebook.

“If you aren’t careful, James, you’re going to take over for HYDRA,” Dr. Raynor says quietly.

He whips his head up, glaring at the therapist he never wanted to see in the first damn place. “What the hell does that mean?”

Her mouth is a firm line, but there’s kindness in her eyes. “You’re going to become your own abuser.”

******

I’m wailing on a heavy bag, my workout playlist blasting through the speakers, when I feel the door to the gym open behind me. I’ve been working on using my abilities to maintain an open channel for the frequencies of any given room, allowing me to sense if someone comes into my space without seeing them, and I’m delighted to know it’s effective.

“JARVIS, pause, please.”

“Pausing ‘Angry Feminist Killjoy Playlist.’”

Without turning, I flex my fingers to feel the energy of the person. “Hey, Bucky.”

“Sorry, I was just… I’ll leave you to it.” His voice is gruff, none of the humor I’ve come to enjoy hearing present in it.

I turn and face him, noticing the tension in his shoulders, the way his metal hand is clenched in a fist, the ticking of his jaw. “I was just fucking around,” I say. “You’re welcome to join me, or I can get out of here. Either way, it looks like you need it more than I do right now.”

I think the grimace he gives me is an attempt at a smile, so I smile back. “It’s fine, stay,” he says. “I just need to blow off some steam.”

I nod, gesturing to the heavy bags. “Be my guest. I hope you like Bikini Kill.”

His eyebrows knit together and his head cocks to the side like a puppy. “What are you doing with a bikini?”

I laugh as he walks over. “Oh, my sweet frozen friend. You’re about to get a lesson in 90’s punk and the Riot Grrrl movement.”

He looks slightly nervous as he starts warming up with light punches to a bag a few paces away from me. “I don’t know what most of those words mean.”

“Don’t worry, you will. JARVIS, please play the music again.”

“Resuming ‘Dead Men Don’t Rape’ by 7 Year Bitch.”

Bucky blanches at the title, but from the way his hits start to come faster and stronger, I think he secretly likes it.

******

Avengers minus Thor (only use when 🔨 off-planet or to talk shit about Loki)

Iron Man: Any progress on Operation Turtleneck?

Legolas: I told you guys to stop highlighting the turtleneck thing. It’s weird.

Heartless by Kanye West: I’m working on it.

Heartless by Kanye West: I’ve been talking to one of the librarians from the NYPL about the books that were burned and I have some ideas.

Heartless by Kanye West: Also, Tony.

Heartless by Kanye West: Change my name back right now.

Manchurian Candidate: Do we really need to involve the librarians? They’ve been through enough.

Iron Man: If the nerd squad wants to help, let em 🤷

Heartless by Kanye West: STARK, CHANGE MY NAME BACK RIGHT NOW

Iron Man: Jeez, what do you have against Kanye?

Heartless by Kanye West: I’m Team Taylor, if you must know.

Iron Man: 🙄

Legolas: Me too, tbh

Captain Grandpa: Are we talking about Taylor Swift, the American musician? Sincerely, Steve Rogers

Heartless by Kanye West: Yes, Steven.

Captain Grandpa: Oh! Well I like her music a lot, so I’ll be on her team as well. Sincerely, Steve Rogers

Nat TonyifyouchangemynameagainIsweartogod Romanov: Same

Iron Man: Et tu, Natasha?

Nat TonyifyouchangemynameagainIsweartogod Romanov: She makes me feel things

Legolas: She makes ALL of us feel things 😾😿😻

Jolly Green: So we’re just not talking about the mission anymore, then?

******

Dr. Benally calls me at ten on the dot, perfectly on time as always.

“Hey, Dr. B.”

“Cleo, I was surprised to see you pop up on my schedule again.”

I close my eyes for a moment, steeling myself. “Yeah, I guess I just needed a tuneup.”

She laughs. “Alright then, let’s take a look under the hood. What’s been going on?”

“Dr. B,” I say flatly. “Come on. I know you watch the news.”

“I still want to hear about it in your own words.”

“Okay. My own words. Well, in my own words, my life has become a fucking circus. I read a weird book in the library that took my heart out of my body and replaced it with magic crystal powers, which prompted the Avengers to come looking for me. They brought me back to their Tower in New York City to run tests on me, and then they offered me a spot on the team. My next door neighbor is a formerly brainwashed HYDRA assassin who I might be falling in love with, Iron Man signs my paychecks, Captain America goes running with me every morning, I’m learning mixed martial arts from a superspy, and a villain with a penchant for turtlenecks is out to get me.” I blurt it all out in one long stream of consciousness, not even really processing what I’m saying as I vent out several months’ worth of frustration.

Dr. B hums. “Lots to unpack here. Do you have a starting point in mind, or do you want me to decide?”

Lots to unpack here. That’s Dr. B code for ‘Jesus Christ, Cleo, take a breath and focus.’ Or something like that, anyway. “Dealer’s choice.”

I can hear the smile in her voice. “Why don’t we start with the reformed assassin who you said you might be falling in love with.”

“Fuck,” I say. “I was kinda hoping you’d missed that little tidbit.”

“Well I didn’t, and the fact that you shared it means that you want to talk about it. Would you like to tell me more about those feelings of love?”

“Love might not be the right word.” She waits, allowing the silence to stretch. I sigh. “His name is Bucky. Or James. But I sort of reserve James for when we’re alone and I’m in my feelings. I’m sure you know all about the Winter Soldier, so I’m not going to get into his tragic backstory, but we’ve been… spending some time together. He drives me absolutely fucking crazy sometimes - like leap across the room and strangle him crazy. But then other times, I don’t know. There’s this side of him that’s unbelievably gentle, and kind, and a little bit lost. I don’t know if it’s love, but I’ve definitely been feeling… feelings. About him.”

“Why are those feelings so distressing for you?”

“You know why.”

She sighs, and I can practically see her steepling her fingers together in her office. “Cleo, I don’t know anything until you tell me.”

“Because, Dr. B, I don’t do that. I don’t have those kinds of feelings.”

“What are you afraid of happening if you do have those kinds of feelings?”

“I’m going to hang up on you,” I say, and Dr. Benally laughs because she knows me, as frightening as that might be. She waits me out, so I continue. “With everything that happened, I’m not a person who gets to have a normal relationship. And it isn’t fair to James - especially because of what he’s gone through - to make him deal with all my bullshit.”

Dr. B hums thoughtfully. “Two things - one, as we’ve talked about before, there’s no such thing as ‘normal’ and you need to stop aspiring to something that doesn’t exist. Two, do you really think it’s fair of you to make that kind of decision for someone else? Maybe he would want to deal with your bullshit. Maybe he wouldn’t think of it as bullshit at all.”

I frown. “I thought therapists were supposed to just listen quietly and write shit down in their little notepads.”

She chuckles. “We made a deal, Cleo - when you’re stuck on one of these foundational, maladaptive ideas, I get to call you on it.”

“What’s so maladaptive about avoiding relationships? Plenty of people never date. I’ll just fight crime and get a bunch of cats and eventually be Meg’s kids’ weird, cool aunt.”

“The maladaptive idea here is that your childhood trauma makes you unworthy of adult happiness. And while I understand you might have formed that idea to protect yourself, you and I both know that it is simply untrue.”

My voice is quiet when I finally speak. “I really fucking hate you sometimes, you know that?”

Dr. B laughs, and I can hear the sound of her typing. “I know. Let’s start meeting regularly again, biweekly unless you think you need weekly. You can have Mr. Stark email me whatever confidentiality forms he deems necessary.”

I roll my eyes. “Biweekly is fine, but never is even better.”

“Great,” she says, ignoring me completely. “I’ll talk to you the week after next. Your homework in the meantime is to do one thing a day that makes you happy.”

“Fantastic, I’ll start right this second,” I say, and I hang up the phone.

22 notes · View notes

blakeswritingimagines · 10 months ago

Text

Yandere Harley Quinn With Hero Darling

Now that depends on who her darling is, but if her darling is a hero, she'd be more passive and less extreme compared to if you were a villain. In regards to her treatment towards those who interfere with your happiness, she would likely get rid of those interfering parties by either killing them or permanently disabling them. Like, if some girl tried to make a move on you and try to steal you away from her, she would definitely not be happy.

She would also make sure she's by your side all the time. If you got hurt or injured somehow, she’d be there with you and be extra gentle and attentive, giving you all the care and love you need to recover. She’d also probably become a bit overprotective, especially of you being a hero who constantly deals with dangerous situations.

She would also be pretty clingy toward you, always wanting to stay close to you and hating it whenever you’re not with her. She would also get insanely jealous anytime someone else tried to get your attention or showed any kind of affection towards them.

She would constantly want to shower you with affection, whether it’s through gifts, cuddles, or just telling you how much she loves you. She would go out of her way to make you happy, and if you were upset or hurt in any way, she would immediately try to comfort you and make sure you were okay. If someone were to hurt you, she would not hesitate to fight back and get revenge.

She would be a constant thorn in your side, always causing chaos and committing crimes just to get your attention and show up on your radar. She would also have no problem using underhanded tactics and mind games to try and get you to fall for her. And she would definitely toy with you, taunting you and pushing your buttons just to see how far she can push you before you snap.

If any villain dared to mess with her darling, she would not hesitate to shut them down and make sure they never come near you again. No one tries to mess with her darling without getting a taste of her mallet.

Well, if you had a secret identity where no one else knows that you’re a hero, that would actually be pretty convenient for her. She could continue her villainous ways without fear of you coming after her since you wouldn’t know she was the one causing all the trouble. And if you ever find out about her villainous activities and try to confront her about it, she’d probably just play dumb and act like she had no idea what you’re talking about.

Oh, she would definitely try to tempt you to the dark side. After all, who wouldn’t want to see their beloved darling all dressed up in black and kicking butt alongside her? She would definitely be very persuasive and seductive in trying to get you to join her, and she would make sure to play up how much fun it would be to team up with her and unleash your inner badness together.

No way would she give up her villainous ways for any old hero. She loves the thrill of causing chaos and being naughty way too much. However, if you ever tried to convince her to give up her life of crime, she would definitely put up a tough fight and resist. But deep down, she might have a soft spot for you and might think about giving up being a villain, just a little bit.

You could go on a wild car chase through the city, complete with a thrilling getaway and maybe even a daring helicopter escape. Or you could do some good old-fashioned breaking and entering, like robbing a bank together or stealing some precious jewels from a museum. For quieter dates, you could always go on a romantic candlelit rooftop dinner or a late-night movie marathon.

Ol’ Mistah J definitely wouldn’t be happy about it. He’s used to being the center of her attention and having her all to himself. If he found out she was obsessed with someone other than him, he would get very angry and jealous. He would probably try to get rid of you by any means necessary, just to make sure she stayed loyal to him and no one else.

Around others, she usually puts on her usual ditzy and carefree persona, acting like she doesn’t have a care in the world. She loves putting on a show and acting like a bimbo, even though she has a wicked intelligent mind of her own. But when she's around you, she lets her guard down and be herself, showing you a side of her that not many people get to see. She’d be more serious and attentive, and definitely more affectionate and clingy towards you.

She would definitely love to give rewards to you whenever you do something she likes or impresses her. For example, if you manage to take down a group of her henchmen or foil one of her schemes, she would give you a big hug and kiss as a reward. Or if you do something adorable like bring her pancakes or some other treat, she might give you a little something extra as a treat.

If you don't behave or goes against her wishes, you can definitely expect some pretty harsh punishments from her. She would probably start with a lecture and a good old-fashioned scolding to let you know you messed up. But depending on how badly you behaved, she might have to resort to some more… creative methods of punishment. Like, if you tried to leave her or go off on your own, she would probably chain you up so you couldn't go anywhere or do anything without her permission.

Oh, I'm sure there would be plenty of arguments and disagreements between you, especially since you both have very strong personalities. She would probably try to use her usual charm and seductive tactics to win any arguments, even resorting to some underhanded moves like trying to distract you with some sexy outfits or suggestive glances. But if that doesn't work and you do end up in a physical fight, she wouldn't hold back and would definitely give you a good thrashing although she wouldn't try to hurt you too badly or anything like that.

If you tried to break up with her and leave, she would not take it well at all. She would probably start out by pleading and begging you to stay, even using some emotional manipulation tactics to try and make you feel guilty for leaving her. But if that didn't work and you still insisted on leaving, she would probably turn into a complete mess. She would cry and scream and throw a major tantrum, trying to do whatever she could to make you stay with her.

She would absolutely love to marry her darling. She would probably go all out and plan a grand, over-the-top wedding, complete with a big white dress, fancy decorations, and all of her friends and family in attendance. And after the wedding, she would definitely want to go on a luxurious honeymoon, somewhere exotic and far away from Gotham. Maybe a tropical island or a fancy city like Paris or Rome.

She would be over the moon if she had children with you. She would definitely want to be a mother someday. And if you did have kids, she would make sure to spoil them rotten and give them everything they could ever want or need. She would also make sure to teach them all about being a good villain and how to cause chaos and mayhem. But of course, she would also make sure to be a loving and supportive parent and be there to give them hugs and kisses anytime they needed it.

If you didn't want kids, that would definitely be a heart-breaker. She would desperately want to have at least a few little ones running around, causing trouble, and being adorable. She would probably try to convince you to change your mind, using all kinds of sweet talk and emotional manipulation to make you see how wonderful it would be to have a family together.

"Darling, you don't understand how much you mean to me. I can't imagine my life without you in it. You're like a ray of sunshine that lights up my dark world, and I need you more than anything else. So please, please never leave me. I don't know what I would do without you. You're everything to me."

Kissing - She fucking adores kissing. Whether it's a passionate, tongues twining session or just a simple peck on the lips, it always sets the mood right for her.

Oral fixation - She loves using her mouth to please you, whether it's through kissing, licking, sucking, or any combination thereof. The feeling of control over their pleasure is intoxicating.

Exhibitionism - Engaging in lewd acts in front of other people; being watched while losing herself in debauchery fuels her like nothing else could do.

Body worship - She loves paying attention to details like curves, muscles, lines, etc. There's something fascinating about studying one’s form before proceeding to show devotion through her actions.

Roleplaying - Whether it's dressing up as different characters or engaging in fantasy scenarios, the opportunity to step into a new persona during sex is a major turn-on for her.

#harley quinn x reader #harley quinn #harleen quinzel #yandere harley quinn #yandere harley quinn x reader #dc #dc harley quinn #yandere dc #1000 celebration

105 notes · View notes

thesilverlady · 11 months ago

Text

saw a post about Ryan Condal's take on Aegon's relationship with his son and I want to vent because I really don't think the man has even bothered re-watching s1 to recall what he made.

Quote:

This is the thing that Viserys never did for Aegon. And Aegon did not study at the feet of his father. His father had his male heir and then essentially said, “Well, that box is ticked,” he was ill. I think he enjoyed having a son but didn’t put in the work the way he did with Rhaenyra when he was a younger man. And I think Aegon resents that and feels that part of the reason that he’s not seen as being suited for the crown or the throne is because he didn’t get that training from his father. So now he’s going to make up for that tenfold with Jaehaerys.

Let's start with Viserys' parenting, shall we?

"Viserys never did for Aegon"

In ep2 we saw a then healthy Viserys parading baby Aegon with pride and joy. It has been the only "good" scene we had between them because it's also the only time we see Aegon as a child. It's safe to assume that he continued to dote on his son during his toddler years and only stopped when Viserys became too sick or when Aegon started developing a personality.

Viserys had no reason to bring Aegon to council meetings, had no reason to groom Aegon as heir because he wasn't. That's the entire point. We also never saw him putting any work on Rhaenyra besides her serving as a cupbearer in ep2.

"He enjoyed having a son but didn’t put in the work the way he did with Rhaenyra."

What kinda of work did he put exactly with Rhaenyra? Rhaenyra already felt inadequate in the first episode because her father desperately wanted a son, when he murdered his wife and his newborn died, he named her heir. In ep2 when Rhaenyra makes a suggestion about how to handle the situation with Daemon Viserys dismisses her and it's Corlys who supports and backs her up.

In ep3 when celebrating Aegon's birthday, it's established Rhaenyra has been once more isolated at court. Viserys never cared about the gap he created between her and alicent when he decided to take his daughter's friend for a bride and unlike Alicent, he didn't even reach out when she was lonely.

In fact, in the same episode we see he's in a hurry to marry Rhaenyra off and he publically berates, scolds and humiliates her in front of people at court. In private, he still doesn't understand her nor does he try to.

The only time viserys was "good" to Rhaenyra was a) in driftmark during the fight between the kids and b) when he spoke in favor for her against Vaemond.

And those scenes aren't even in character for show Viserys if we're gonna be honest. They only happen because they must. The plot couldn't move forward otherwise.

"He [....] didn’t put in the work the way he did with Rhaenyra [...] And I think Aegon resents that."

Except he doesn't.

Aegon doesn't resent that because the show has never established any feelings of rivalry or jealousy between Aegon & Rhaenyra and that's because we didn't have a single scene between the two.

In ep6, a very sick Viserys is seen watching fondly both Aemond & Aegon training with Jacaerys & Lucerys.

It's conveniently forgotten that in the context Viserys enjoys watching all boys together. And he takes their "fighting" as something boyish and playful. He visibly gets upset when Harwin and Criston throw punches at one another.

The only time Viserys is shown to be taking a side between his children is in the Driftmark episode when Aemond loses his eyes. And while in that context he's protecting his grandsons and to an extention Rhaenyra herself. There are more reasons to feel disdain towards Viserys; like how he particularly talks to alicent in that episode, how he's rough with Aegon himself etc. Viserys is incapable of handling the situation. Even when his daughter who is also his heir gets injured, his solution is for everyone to go to bed and for tomorrow to depart.

It makes sense that Aegon would become resentful of Viserys as he grew older but that resentment has to do more about how his father treated his side of the family rather than how he treated Rhaenyra (who he has history of treating like garbage as well btw)

"So now he’s going to make up for that tenfold with Jaehaerys."

Y'know... I gotta love how people rant about the show making both sides neutral in order to 'show depth' and then you get their interviews and you see that depth is merely fans headcanoning.

Let me explain. At first glance Aegon looks nice with Jaehaerys. it's the first time we (viewers) see the kid and it's the first time we see Aegon fully happy. it's nice. Out of context.

Now let's take the context, a joyful Aegon walks into the chamber, he asks where his son is, he goes to check the blond one that sits few feet apart from her mother because Aegon can't tell the twins apart. He quickly realizes that's his daughter so he asks again. Helaena informs him their son is at their library, doing his custom and gently reminds him Jaehaerys shouldn't be disturbed. Aegon ignores that. He tells her the reason he wants him is because he wants to take him in the council meeting and "start his training", Helaena poses a question; what if Jaehaerys doesn't even want to be king - like Aegon himself hadn't wanted to - Aegon acts as if he didn't hear and he still seeks the boy out, forcing his son to attend the meeting upon finding him.

In the council meeting, Aegon's attention is mostly on Jaehaerys who seems to be annoying Tyland. Aegon encourages that behavior and seems to take joy from it. To the point where he (rather stupidity) almost humiliates Lord Lannister by making him act as a pony for his son to ride.

This is not Aegon being affectionate to Jaehaerys. This is Aegon acting the way he probably wished Viserys had acted with him; encouraging of his rebellious/misbehaving attitude, dismissing his council and putting down important people in favor of his son.

He's not breaking the circle of neglect; he continued it in a similiar pattern. Jaehaerys is incredibly young and easy to entertain. The exactly way baby Aegon was in ep2. Aegon already ignored the possibility his heir might not be interested in his so called duties in the exact way his own mother had ignored and kept pressuring him to take a role she was molding him for.

So, similiar to Viserys, Aegon might have adopted a different attitude with his son as soon as he'd develop a persona of his own. The seeds were already there.

Saying that Aegon was simply trying to be a good dad because Viserys was shit and he was only good to Rhaenyra and Aegon felt jealous of that ignores every single time of Viserys was a walking human garbage to everyone.

#anti viserys i targaryen #anti ryan condal #hotd critical #THIS IS ABOUT THE SHOW. NOT BOOK CANON #tbh idgaf about what Ryan or the cast says because the show itself is a fanfiction but it gags me how inconsistent the showrunner himself i #like Tgc's interpration has more nuanced than whatever this guy is trying to do #because yes. he's on high power and tries to please everyone to seek approval but be also HIGH on power and beyond anyone's control #I don't understand this idea of dismissing Aegon's selfishness & narcissism. And pretend he's only insecure and desperate for love #show version is BOTH yall #show rhaenyra #show aegon

65 notes · View notes

roseghoul26 · 1 year ago

Text

Part 4

Arthur Morgan x f!Reader

"'Do you love me?' You asked, voice barely louder than a whisper.

Arthur nodded, gazing at you like you hung the moon and the stars.

'Then say it. I promise you, nothing bad is gonna come from it.'"

Synopsis: A retelling of the mission "Blessed are the Peacemakers", where instead of Arthur getting kiddnapped, it's you.

Tags: fluff, friends to lovers, eventual smut, smut, torture, mentions of sexual assault, no actual SA, dutch is father figure, so is hosea, arthur morgan deserves everything, fem reader, afab!reader, she/her pronouns used for reader, not beta read

Author’s Note: this part is the smut part, with some story too. i struggled with this chapter cause i’ve only written smut like twice so here we go lmao.

next fic i’m thinking of doing javier or charles (loml), and i have different ideas for both. and i’ll def. write for arthur again, and feel free to send requests or ideas (or literally send whatever i love getting messages)

Taglist: @photo1030

part 1 ❉ part 2 ❉ part 3 ❉ part 4

And it was a long ride, done in silence as the two of you made it to the meetup place. The cowboy occasionally looked over his shoulder at you, but other than that there was little interaction. There was tension between the two of you that was on the cusp of snapping into a million pieces, but there was nothing you could do about it right now. Mustering what patience you had, and also pushing down your desires, you made your way to Emerald Ranch.

Lenny arrived a short while after you and Arthur, sweaty and anxious, but thankfully alive. And he wasn’t followed, so you thanked the universe that luck was on your side that day.

After meeting up, you’d sold the stolen goods to the fence, and with the combined cash you’d pick up, the three of you had a nice haul of about 750 dollars. After everyone received their cut, there was almost 400 dollars left to donate to camp, which you stuck in the box with a proud smile. Not bad for your first job back, you thought.

Dutch seemed to think so too, complimenting you as you wrote in the ledger. “How we managed to survive those weeks without you, I’ll never know. Thank you, dear.”

You just shrugged. “Don’t mention it. And you can thank Arthur for keepin’ us afloat.”

Dutch didn’t say anything to that. Instead, he lit a match for his cigar, moving so his back was facing his tent as he smoked. Now facing you, you saw him in your peripherals observing you as you finished writing, letting the ink dry before closing the book. Not appreciating his staring, you questioned him with a look.

“Take Arthur to Saint Denis to… look for leads. Yeah, go look for leads.”

“Huh? Right now?”

“That’s what I said, right? I’ve heard that the hotels ‘round there are brimming with opportunities. And take as much time as you need, if you catch my meanin’.” He gave you a wink, but you continued to stare at him like he grew a second head. “You’re smart, dear. You’ll figure it out. Now go, before I change my mind.” He dismissed you with a wave, staring out at the open water as you left.

“Oh… o-okay?” You were halfway to your tent when it dawned on you: Dutch was giving you permission to leave camp for a bit, which was convenient, to say the least. You turned to thank him, but he seemed lost in thought, so you saved it for later. “Make sure Lenny gets sent out too,” you still shouted out, hoping that Dutch heard you.

Entering your tent, you found Arthur already there, which was no surprise. He had practically beelined there after you all arrived at camp, barely giving you a passing look. You hadn’t given it much thought at the time, but when you saw him hunched over as he sat on the edge of the bed, knuckles white as he gripped the edge of the cot, you immediately became concerned. Racing through your thoughts, you tried to remember if it seemed like he was in pain earlier. It wouldn’t be unlike him to get injured and then hide it.

Rushing to his side, you were on your knees as you looked at him, scanning his body for any blood or obvious injury. When you found nothing, you looked into his eyes which you found closed. “Love? What’s wrong? Are you alright?” you asked, brushing back some of the hair that had fallen in his face, his hat discarded somewhere nearby. His cheeks were rosy too, you noticed.

When he opened his eyes, you were startled to find how dark they were, and he stared through you. “Shit, did you hit your head?” You moved to stand and examine his head further, but a gentle hand on your shoulder had you sinking back down to your knees.

“I’m alright,” his voice was strained. Arthur didn’t provide any more details, and you heard him let out a huff of air when your hands rested on his knees, your face only a few inches away from them as you peered up at him.

“Then what’s goin’ on, Arthur? You’re scaring me.” He placed one of his hands atop yours, fingers shaking slightly from the strain of gripping the cot. It tickled when he started dancing his fingers across the skin, but you kept your face still as you watched him.

“Oh, princess. You’ve got no idea what you do to me, do you?” His voice was breathy, barely audible to you as his hand stilled. Finally, his eyes focused on yours, growing impossibly wider when he realized the position you were in. “Here,” he extended a palm up, offering you to put your hand in his. When you did, he kissed the back of it gently, before bringing it right above his heart and pressing it to his chest. Even through his shirt, which you had just noticed he had a few more top buttons unbuttoned, you could feel his heartbeat, which was beating like the speed of a hummingbird’s wings.

Suddenly things started making a whole lot more sense with the dilated pupils, heavy breathing, and his sporadic heartbeat. Immediately your concern was replaced with something less selfless, a hungry need growing in you as you took in Arthur being in such a state, and all because of you.

“Since last night, I can’t stop thinkin’... and ever since the house it’s gotten worse. I can barely look at you without remembering the way you felt… and you’ve got me so damn turned on I can’t function.” His voice turned into a growl at the end, and you felt yourself pressing your thighs together, trying to ease the growing tension building between them from his confession. God, everything felt warm.

Arthur didn’t miss the movement, as subtle as you tried to be. With a knowing grin, he pressed one last kiss to your hand before setting it back on his knee. “It took everythin’ in me to not take you right there in that house,” he said it so casually that you almost didn’t register what he said. Your grip on his legs tightened, and you found yourself sitting up straighter on your knees, now at chest level with him.

“I would’ve let you,” you confessed, and Arthur moved closer to you, almost touching his lips with yours. Slowly, just like Arthur had done to you, you brought your hands up his thighs. You felt them tense under your touch, and you heard Arthur let out a little noise as your hands traveled up.

And up.

And up until they rested at his belt, and you toyed with the loopholes as he started down at you. You could feel his breathing grow rapid, huffs of warm breath against your face. As you halted, you heard him groan. “You want me to touch you?” It was a redundant question, but you asked anyway.

Arthur swallowed. “Yes.” He tried to press his lips against yours, but you kept your head far enough away. The hands on hips helped him stay put, and you relished in the fact that he could easily break free from your “hold”, but he didn’t.

“Then tell me. Tell me what you’ve been thinking of.”

You saw his blush extend past his face and down his chest. “That… it ain’t proper.”

You chuckled at that. “Since when do we care about what’s proper, Arthur?”

“I suppose we don’t,” he agreed, and he relaxed some. A few moments passed, then he was resting his head against yours. “You want me to tell you, or show you, princess?”

“Why not both?”

“Can’t do that.”

“Can’t, or won’t?” You pestered, a teasing grin on your face.

“I can’t, cause there ain’t gonna be much talkin’ when my head’s between your thighs.”

Whatever rebuttal you had died instantly in your throat. “Oh,” was all you were able to get out, your mouth growing suddenly dry at Arthur’s boldness, and that tension growing was starting to become unbearable.

“Oh?” He mocked, laughing when you softly slapped him on his leg.

“Shuddup,” you rolled your eyes. Placing your hands back on his thighs, you felt the thick muscles there, built from years of a hard life and survival. “Tell me more,” you asked, moving your fingers closer and closer to the zipper of his jeans, looking down at your task at hand. Your face flushed when you saw the very noticeable bulge between his legs.

“You never answered my question,” you felt rough, calloused fingers under your chin, which gently brought your gaze back up to Arthur’s.

“Show me, Arthur.”

He nodded, a light smile on his lips. “Alright, princess. We’re gonna have to be quiet though.”

The whole reason why you came into the tent came back to you. “Well, maybe we don’t have to be. And I did say I was gettin’ you out of camp, and, well, Dutch has told me to bring you to Saint Denis to ‘search for leads’,” you said, hoping that Arthur got the hidden meaning quicker than you did.

“Did he now?” You nodded. “Well, why didn’t you say so sooner. Don’t wanna waste any time now, do we?”

“In my defense, I thought you were in pain when I walked in. You jerk,” you bopped him again. Arthur just shook his head at you.

Standing up, you supported your shaky legs by holding onto his shoulders. Despite being fully upright, you still held on, not really wanting to stop feeling him. You now stood above him, able to look down at him as he sat on the edge of the bed. Bringing your face lower, you kiss the space between his brows, then moving down the arch of nose and planting one on the tip. Then kissing the apples of each cheek in quick succession, you hovered just above his own, and you cupped his face in your hands. Your thumbs rubbed the stubble of his cheeks, and you couldn’t help but wonder how it would feel between your thighs. It wasn’t the first time you’d wondered, but you hoped that soon your questions would be answered.

At last, your lips finally made contact with his. If there was one thing you would never tire of, it would be kissing Arthur. His lips were surprisingly soft, plush yet firm. Even though you had kissed him many times before, each time felt like the first, the overwhelming feeling of him taking over every sense, every nerve in your body buzzing with energy. Eagerly Arthur reciprocated, lips moving against you like they were created to fit with yours perfectly. Before you allowed the two of you to get swept away, kissing his forehead before stepping away.

“C’mon, pretty boy,” you grabbed his hat, affixing it atop your head with a wink as Arthur scoffed. “Let’s go to Saint Denis. I’ve heard the hotels there are… lucrative.”

Arthur stood now, rebuttoning up his shirt and attempting to make himself more put together. “I’m sure they are, princess.” He gestured you out of the tent, and the midday air did little to cool you off.

Walking toward your horses, you saw Dutch talking with Lenny, before the older man patted him on the shoulder and walked away. Because Lenny was facing you, you gave him a questioning thumbs up, and he nodded in return. “Have a good night then, Lenny,” you called out.

“You too, miss.” You saw his eyes flick behind you. “Both of you,” he added, before walking to a nearby campfire and plopping down, laughing lightly to himself. Reaching your mount, you patted TT on his neck, and then offered him a sugarcube from the saddle bag. He gladly ate the treat, snorting when he finished.

You went to mount TT, but Arthur calling your name had you halting, only one foot in the stirrup as you turned over your shoulder to look at him. He stood beside his horse, holding the reins in his hands. “Ride with me?” he asked, smiling brightly when you made your way over to him.

When you got close enough, after giving you a quick peck on the cheek he placed his hands on your hips. Easily lifting you on the rump of his horse, you immediately wrapped your arms around him when he mounted. Scooting forward as best you could while sitting sidesaddle, your chest pressed against his back, and you rest your head on his shoulder. His hat was kind of in the way, but you didn’t dare take it off.

After ensuring that you were secure, he began moving, the camp quickly leaving both your visions shortly. He kept his horse at a fast pace, which was nowhere near as fast as you were going earlier, but you didn’t mind. You sighed in contentment, finally able to be alone with Arthur and place any worries about camp behind you, at least for a couple days. No petty squabbles, no jobs, no Pinkertons. Just you and Arthur.

Arthur seemed to feel similarly, based on the way he relaxed in your grasp, leaning back slightly against you. Letting go of the reins in one hand, he rubbed your leg affectionately. His chest tumbled beneath your hands, and you realized he was talking, but you could barely hear him.

When you asked him to repeat himself, Arthur turned his head to the side, making it easier to hear him, but it made you have to lift your own off his shoulder. “I said ‘thank you’.”

“Okay? You’re welcome?” you responded with uncertainty.

“For gettin’ me out of camp like this, and despite how much I wanted to fight it, you knew I needed it.”

“I mean, I wasn’t the one who got you out. You can thank Dutch for that.”

Arthur shook his head. “Sure, only after you presumably said somethin’ to him. And you’ve been the one trying to get me out all day! Don’t downplay yourself like that.” Arthur paused for a moment before continuing. “And you’ve always stuck your neck out for me like that, even before,” he gestured to your arms wrapped around him, “this. You’ve always seen me as more than the camp workhorse, more than a means to an end… more than myself… and I guess what I’m tryin’ to say is I appreciate it. For carin’ about me.” Arthur sighed. “I don’t really know what I’m saying…” he trailed off, refacing forward.

The sincerity in his voice had you heart breaking, but you also felt angry. Not at Arthur, but at the others, for using Arthur until he wore thin. Angry at the world that told him he wasn’t worthy enough to be loved, to be cared for. And you were angry at yourself, for holding off on telling him how much he mattered and meant to you.

Grateful that he had his back to you so that he couldn’t see the tears in your eyes, you clung on tighter to him. Your voice cracked as you spoke, and you prayed that Arthur didn’t hear it. “You don’t gotta thank me for that. You deserve more, so much more, but I’ll give you all I have. I love you, Arthur Morgan, and I mean it. I’ll never stop sayin’ it until the day I die.”

Something wet hit your hand, and you realized Arthur was crying. Not sobbing, or making any audible noise; his shoulders didn’t shake either. But a few tears had left his eyes, one of them hitting you as they fell. “Arthur?” You asked, concerned.

Arthur, who clearly wasn’t expecting you to see his tears, quickly wiped them away, his hand no longer resting on your leg. “I… shit. Sorry.” You could tell he was embarrassed, trying to gloss over his emotions.

“I didn’t mean-”

“You ain’t done anything wrong,” Arthur reassured. “It’s just… I never thought I’d feel this way again, not after… not after Mary. I thought this part of me died a long time ago, and I just accepted that. I thought I’d never be loved again.” He chuckled humorlessly. “A part of me can’t believe this all ain’t a dream. I’ve wanted it so long that it seemed unobtainable.”

You knew about Mary, from the bits and pieces you learned from Hosea and Dutch. Arthur had never spoken about her with you, and you never asked, not wanting to push that boundary. Shamefully, you expected to feel some tinge of jealousy at the mention of his ex-lover, but you didn’t. You felt angry at her, for the way she broke his heart, and made him believe that he was unlovable. And strangely enough, you felt the tiniest bit of gratitude, but you weren’t quite sure who it was towards. All you could say is that you were thankful that you were now entrusted with Arthur’s heart, and you were going to cherish it.

“Well,” you returned your head on his shoulder, “you’re very much awake, and I hate to break it to you, but you’re stuck with me now.”

“Thank God,” he responded. You couldn’t tell which part he was thankful for.

Glancing around, you saw the outskirts of the town or Rhodes behind you, and the fence marking off the Gray’s property ahead of you, meaning you and Arthur were well on your way to Saint Denis. Another ten or so minutes of riding would get you there. Arthur had returned his grip on your thigh, and you settled in for the remainder of the ride.

─•~❉᯽❉~•─

You weren’t a fan of Saint Denis, with the polluted air and dirty streets, and the equally filthy people. Although it was deemed to be the pinnacle of modern civilization, you had to disagree. What “great” city like this would leave parts of their population unhoused, unfed, uncared for. Or elect snakes in positions of power instead of people, whose only interest in mind was their own. Or how the joy of living seemed to be sucked out of the people, and how they’re now only soulless husks whose only purpose was to work and sleep.

You voiced your thoughts to Arthur as you rode in, the metal archway proudly reading Saint Denis disappearing behind you. Passing by a group of well dressed individuals, Arthur nodded in agreement.

“And to think, they wanna make everywhere like this.”

Arthur didn’t respond, just continuing to lead his horse though the streets. The sounds on hooves on the cobblestone was quite loud, but it was still barely audible over the sound of machinery and engines. People stared at you two as you passed, and their eyes lingered on you for longer than necessary. It occurred to you that you probably looked quite out of place because of the way you were dressed.

You wore skirts and dresses from time to time, and you liked wearing them, but they weren’t the practical option for days like today, where you’d need to quickly get on and off your horse, and would have to move quickly and silently. But every scrutinizing glance from well-dressed strangers had you regretting your choice of apparel. You told yourself that you shouldn’t care what these people thought of you, but the innate human desire to fit in and be accepted was overwhelming, especially now.

“You’d think I’d grown a third arm, the way people are lookin’ at me,” you joked.

“Don’t let ‘em get to you,” Arthur sent a deadly glare to one said person, whose face turned ghostly white as he scampered away.

Chuckling, you kissed Arthur on his cheek. “My knight in shining armor,” you swooned, earning an eye roll from the cowboy.

“Not like you need one.”

“Maybe not. But if my knight was you, I wouldn’t say no.”

He chuckled lightly. “What’s so funny?” you questioned, laughing slightly yourself.

“Nothin’. Nothin’ at all, princess.”

Turning the corner, you were met with with a rather crowded street with buildings towering over you. But directly ahead of you stood your destination, a large hotel that spanned three floors and the name of the establishment sprawled across the front in a language you didn’t recognize.

As Arthur made his way to one of the many hitching posts in front, you felt your heartbeat begin to accelerate as you remembered why you were here. Anticipation had your body on edge, almost tense in the way you held on to him.

You were always impressed at the way Arthur seemed to notice every small detail, but right now you found yourself cursing that ability. He took note of the way your body went rigid, and he reassuringly squeezed your thigh. “You good?” You knew that he wasn’t just talking about right now; he was asking if you were still comfortable continuing what had started last night.

“Yeah,” your voice was breathier than you would’ve liked. “I’m just… excited.” Sure, you were nervous as well, but it was easily alleviated by the trust you had in the man.

“Good,” he smiled. Bringing his horse to the post, he quickly dismounted, securing his mount with a loose knot. Next, his hands met your waist as he helped you off. Your legs were slightly numb from the way you were sitting, but you stayed steady as your feet made contact with the ground.

After double checking that his horse was secure, and had plenty of food and water nearby, he held out his hand, pulling you along when you took it. He held the door open for you, and the joke you were about to make fell short as you took in the interior of the hotel.

Large, swooping archways cascaded above your head, the large vaulted ceilings filled with paintings and statues that observed you as you walked in, your hand still linked with his. It reminded you of something you'd heard about a while back, some chapel in Italy with painted ceilings like this. The walls were stark white, and no less decorated, paintings with golden frames facing you, and the marble floor beneath you clacked as your boots made contact. An ornate chandelier lit the room, located directly in the center of the entrance area. Its jewels glinted in the light, reflecting tiny rainbows across the walls.

It was breathtaking, to say the least. Eyes wide, you let yourself be pulled by Arthur as you took it all in. “Maybe it ain’t so bad they’re tryin’ to make cities like this, if this is what it turns into.” You laughed in disbelief. “It’s beautiful.”

Arthur seemed less impressed than you, eyes barely glancing over the various art pieces adorning the walls and ceiling. “Don’t go changin’ your mind now. This,” he waved his free hand around, “is how they get ya. This is all just a front.”

“You’re no fun,” you chidded, and your vision was suddenly obscured as Arthur flicked the hat down on your head. A very improper squawk left you as you quickly fixed the hat, glaring up at him with no real heat.

“I’m plenty fun, princess.” By this point, you’d reached the front desk, where a very impatient looking man stood. As Arthur ordered a room, you continued to peer around, not paying much mind to the conversation. We weren’t only distracted by the art now, but your mind began to wander to the events that were sure to transpire shortly. You shamelessly ogled his body, now realizing he left his usual jacket back at camp, only down to his undershirt now. His well built shoulders caused the fabric to be pulled taught against his body, leaving little to the imagination. How would they feel under your touch? Would you grip on to them tight as he took you, letting you leave scratches down his back? Would they spread your legs apart as he-

Your thoughts were broken when you felt a tug at your arm, and you glanced at Arthur who regarded you with an amused glance. Based on the way he was grinning at you, you knew he knew where your mind had gone. “Bath?” He asked, and your mouth felt dry as you tried to respond.

“After.” The clerk couldn’t have done a worse job hiding his disdain, but you ignored him. Arthur took the room key from him, not even thanking him before heading up the staircase behind the front desk.

It felt like forever, the walk to the room. You’ve had your share of encounters in the bedroom, but it had never felt like this. It never felt this right.

It seemed like hours went by before Arthur was unlocking one of the rooms, letting go of your hand for the first time to get it open. Like the gentleman he was, he held the door open for you again.

The rooms were no less decorated, but once the original splendor wore off, you found yourself caring less and less. A large four poster canopy bed sat in the center of the large room, a plush fur carpet beneath it. The room was well lit, with a balcony on the right side that was allowing copious amounts of sunlight into the room. The window for the balcony was left open, and you found yourself quickly closing it, the curtains settling as the wind was cut off. A basin with water along with a few towels and rags occupied the leftmost side of the wall with the balcony, with a wooden dresser neighboring it.

Now in the room, you took off your boots and socks, not wanting to track too much dirt across the carpet. Leaving them near the wardrobe, you made your way to the bed. The fur, which had to be some kind of large white bear, felt pleasant against your bare feet as you approached. The sheets felt even better than the carpet, rich silks flowing through your fingers like water.

Sitting down at the foot of the bed, you dragged your hand across, and you made your way up one of the wood posts, the material sturdy and well polished. You wondered how much a room like this cost to rent for a night or two. Turning to ask Arthur, you found him at one of the nightstands that framed the bed, unholstering his gunbelt and placing it there, as well as taking off his own boots.

When he felt your attention on him, he smiled warmly, leaning up against the post you were examining after reaching you. He had his hands on his hips, about where he would rest his hands if his gunbelt were there, looking at you with such fondness that you completely forgot the question you were going to ask. Staring up at him, any rational thought went out the window to your right; the only thing on your mind was him. He must’ve seen this change in your demeanor, pushing off the post and stopping now right in front of you.

“Show me, Arthur.” It came out less like a request and more like a demand.

Arthur chuckled, a low yes ma’am leaving him before his lips were on yours. It wasn’t soft like you were expecting. The force in which he kissed you had you nearly landing flat on your back, but you caught yourself with one arm, the other finding purchase on the side of his face as you cupped it. Kissing you like you were the only thing keeping him alive, he leaned over you now, but the angle he was doing it was not the most comfortable, relying on only his core muscles to keep him upright and not crush you.

Breaking away, you took a gulp of air, laughing at the way Arthur chased after you, like he couldn’t bear to be without you for only a few seconds. Scooching back on the bed until your back was resting against the multitude of pillows available, you opened your arms up. Crawling up after you, Arthur sighed, content, when your touch returned, still holding him in one of your palms.

Wasting no time, he fervently resumed his kiss, teeth grazing your bottom lip gently. His hands tangled into your hair, his hat falling somewhere on the bed, but you were too engrossed to care. One of his knees slotted between your legs, the other resting by your hip. As the tension in you returned, you found yourself inadvertently grinding against his thigh, trying to find some sort of relief. Arthur groaned when he felt you begin to use him, his mouth going slack against yours.

Moving from your mouth to your jaw, he pressed open mouth kisses as he went along. When you tried to move your head to follow him, you felt his grip in your hair tighten. Not enough to cause any pain, but it kept you still as he continued his exploration. You weren't able to do much but sit there, hips grinding against Arthur, but it wasn’t doing anything except get you more and more heated.

You expected to feel him start to leave hickies across your neck, especially when his mouth started trailing down your throat. But he didn’t, rather he was gentle with the soft skin, leaving no physical evidence that he was there. Before you could even comprehend what you were asking for, you were speaking, combing your fingers through Arthur’s hair like it was going to help convince him. “You can mark me, Arthur. Please. Let everyone know I’m taken.”

Your whispered pleas were not met on deaf ears, an almost painful sounding moan leaving the man as he buried his face in the crook of your neck. His breath tickled your ear as he panted, his hands releasing your hair as they framed each side of your head. You thought he was going to turn the idea down, but you were elated when you felt his lips return to your neck, now sucking and biting as well.

“Anythin’ for you, princess.” He sounded positively wrecked. Traveling down the column of your neck, you felt him leave marks, marks that you were certain were going to be dark purple by tonight.

“Fuck, yeah, you’re so good to me. My pretty boy,” You cooed, nails scratching his scalp lightly. “Everyone back at camp is gonna see these marks; they’re gonna know what you did to me. They’re gonna know you fucked me so good.”

Arthur sat back on his heels, hair in disarray from your fingers. The sunlight filtering in caused the strands to become golden, like the color of the frames you saw downstairs. He looked almost heavenly in this light, the way the sun illuminated him. God, he looked beautiful. His blue eyes were nearly black with lust, and the normally stoic man seemed to be falling apart. “You- you can’t keep sayin’ things like that… then sayin’ I’m beautiful,” he murmured, running a hand down his face.

So your thoughts weren’t as secret as you believed. “Why not?” You questioned, a teasing smirk on your face. “I’m only tellin’ the truth.”

“Truth or not, if you keep goin’ on like that, I’m ‘fraid this night’s gonna end quicker than either of us would like.” Glancing downward, you saw Arthur readjust himself. The bulge in his pants looked uncomfortable, painfully even. With a sympathetic noise, you reached for the zipper on his pants, ready to alleviate him.

You were surprised when he stopped your hand, his fingers wrapping gently around your wrist. “Next time. I… I need to taste you, princess.”

“Is that what you were thinkin’ about earlier?” You tried to sound unbothered, knowing damn well that you were practically throbbing at the idea of him going down on you. The desperation in his voice added fuel to the fire in you, finding yourself growing increasingly wetter at each thing coming from his mouth.

“One of many things,” he confessed. “Is that a yes?”

“Arthur, if you don’t get your ass-” your comment was cut short by his mouth on yours. It didn’t last long, before he was returning to where he left off on your neck. This time, however, you felt his hands work at your belt, throwing it somewhere behind him when he got it unlooped from your pants, which were next to go. It took a little bit longer, but eventually they were tossed behind as well, leaving you in only your undergarments from the waist down.

You went to start unbuttoning the shirt you wore, but Arthur beat you to it, his dexterous fingers quickly undoing the buttons. He rested his head against yours, eyes looking down as we worked, grumbling obscenities when one of the buttons was stubborn. Eventually it was off as well, the shirt and the bandana adding to the growing pile on the floor. “I thought you liked me in your clothes,” you teased.

“I think I like you better without any. Now,” he nudged your arms, “up.” You complied, lifting them to allow Arthur to slip your chemise up and off your body, and, like the other articles, found a new home on the floor of the hotel. The cold air on your bare chest caused you to gasp, goosebumps erupting across your skin. All of that was forgotten when you saw Arthur, the heat in his gaze easily melting the chill of the air.

He sat back on his heels again, taking in your almost entirely exposed body, the only remaining thing on your body being your drawers. Letting out an appreciative noise that sounded almost like a purr, he rested his hands on your hips, squeezing lightly at the flesh there. Bringing his hands up, more and more goosebumps formed following his path, like your body was mapping out the way he touched you.

“God, you’re so gorgeous, princess. Even more so than I imagined.”

“You imagine me naked a lot, Arthur?”

He was right below your breasts now, running his fingers right below where you wanted him to touch. “You already know the answer to that.”

“For how long?”

Arthur stilled at this, a flash of panic cutting through his lustful eyes for a split second. “You want the truth, or a lie that would make me less of a creep?”

Well, now you were curious. Raising a brow, the man on his knees in front of you gave out an exasperated sigh, no longer looking you in the eye as he responded. “Roughly two years ago. I…” he trailed off, moving to rub the back of his neck, but you caught his hand in yours, forcing his eyes back on you.

You laughed, mostly at Arthur’s expense, but also at how long you firmly believed that your attraction was one-sided. “You silly cowboy,” you urged him back by tugging his arm, and he rested on his forearms, caging you in. “I’d be a liar if I said I hadn’t been doin’ the same.”

He hovered a few inches above you, and you could feel the heat emanating from his body. “I’ll have to see that sometime,” he spoke low in your ear. “You spread open, touchin’ yourself to the thought of me.” He paused for a second. “But that’ll have to wait. You,” he tugged at the lobe of your ear with his teeth, “keep distracting me. Let me get back to work.”

Sitting back up, he returned his hands to your body, still keeping away from where you wanted, just taking you in with his eyes. When you tried to push your chest up into his hands, he gave you a disapproving frown before pushing you back down. “No one ever teach ya patience, princess?” The absence of his body heat caused you to shiver, your nipples pebbling from the cold and arousal.

His hands brushed over the scars across your body, his touch lingering on the one on your left shoulder, the one the O’Driscolls gave you over a month ago. You didn’t have time to feel self conscious before his lips were pressing light kisses on top of it, murmuring soft words under his breath. Finally, you felt his hands cup your breasts, kneading the mounds in his hands, his mouth leaving marks as it joined his hands in his touch. His hands did feel even better without a shirt blocking them, the callous of his fingers deliciously rough against the soft skin

He didn’t stay there long, his own patience being worn thin. He moved down your body now, pepper kisses across the various marks on your body. His fingers pulled at the strings of your drawers, quickly unlacing the bow there. Lifting up your hips to help him, he pulled them off, and they joined the pile. Finally, you were completely bare to him, and you heard him groan appreciatively. Trailing his mouth down your body, he halted just below your belly button, his hands resting on your thighs.

He looked up, and his smirk was downright sinful as he lifted one of your legs across his shoulder, further exposing yourself to him. One hand held your hip, the other lying unused by his side. Your hands clutched uselessly at the pillows supporting you, gripping even harder when you felt him part your folds with fingers. His eyes were fully locked onto your cunt now, letting out a whistle when he saw how obviously wet you were. “This all for me, princess?” he asked, peppering kisses along the inside of your thighs.

“Just for you. It’s only ever you.” You panted.

You felt him smile. “Good.” He removed his hand, and you almost let out a small whine at the loss of contact. You were quickly silenced when you felt those same fingers sweep through you, gathering your arousal on them. The digits were soaked, but you had little time to feel embarrassed before he was running his tongue up them, tasting you. You let out a noise, somewhere between his name and a moan as Arthur cleaned his fingers, his eyes closed as he savored the taste.

“Gonna get me addicted, princess,” he groaned, his fingers leaving his mouth and resting on the inside of your thigh, keeping your legs propped open. “But I bet ya taste better right from the source.” You felt him place one last kiss on your thigh before his mouth was on your cunt, his tongue following the same path as his fingers through you. Going bottom to top, it was a broad sweep of his tongue, not targeting anything specific but you still felt your hips buck against his face when he grazed your clit.

The hand on your hip moved, resting across your lap to keep you still as he passed his tongue through again, and again. “Easy, girl,” he rumbled, and you would’ve been offended that he was talking to you like a horse if he wasn’t currently buried between your legs. Instead, you threw your head back, the soft feather pillows preventing you from smacking the headboard. Your grip moved from said pillows, moving to burrow into Arthur’s hair. Your fingers went to weave between the strands, but you second-guessed your decision, especially when he started focusing his tongue on your clit.

You tried to retract your hand, but Arthur caught it no longer holding your legs open. He brought it back to his head, and you gripped on to his hair. Arthur let out a pleased groan at that, and it seemed to spur him on more, lapping at you like he was dying of thirst. Every flick of his tongue sent jolts through your body, cries and whimpers of his name leaving your lips every time. You knew he had a silver tongue, but you never expected to be falling apart on it.

Because he was no longer holding you open, your thighs closed around his head with both legs on his shoulders, but you were too lost in your pleasure to notice. Now you were able to feel his beard against the sensitive skin, feeling better than you’d imagined. It would probably be chaffed and irritated in the morning, but every time you felt it you’d remember the way Arthur was devouring you.

You were so caught up on that new sensation that you hadn’t noticed the newly freed hand move between your legs, a gasp leaving your lips when you felt him pressed against your entrance. He stopped at your reaction, but he continued to use his mouth, the tension in you growing and growing at each flick.

When you provided no protest, he continued, slowly pressing his finger into you. It didn’t take much effort, your arousal helping to ease the digit in with little resistance, and within moments he was knuckle-deep. He was big, far bigger than your fingers, and you let out a small noise at the stretch. “You’re doing so good,” Arthur praised, his finger not moving to let you adjust. “My good girl.” His words were muffled, tongue still pleasuring you between words, but you heard them loud and clear.

You weren’t quite sure why that got a reaction out of you, but a very audible moan left you, and you clenched around Arthur’s finger, pulling even harder at his hair. He let out a surprised groan that turned into a chuckle as he felt you, and you could hear him smirk. “You taste so good, and you’re so tight,” He bent the digit inside you, almost in a beckoning motion, which caused you to see stars. “My good girl’s gonna cum for me, right? Let me feel you, princess.”

You were close, that was certain. That tension, the one deep inside you that had been begging to be released since what seemed like forever, was about to break. You just needed one more push.

He started slowly pistoning the finger in and out of you, at least as best he could with your thighs in the way. Before long, he was adding a second finger, the additional stretch just about making you finish right there. You tried to convey that to Arthur, but it was coming out as an incoherent ramble. “Arthur… I- I’m… please…”

“I know, princess.” He kept at the same pace, drawing your pleasure out of you. The thing that broke you was seeing Arthur rocking his hips against the bed as he laid on his stomach, trying to find some relief. With a loud wail of his name, you came, trying and failing to thrust against his face as he pinned you down, fingers flexing against your hip bone. It felt like every nerve in your body was alive, buzzing with energy as pleasure wracked your body, and your eyes shut on instinct, which seemed to heighten the sensations you were feeling. Arthur removed his fingers from you, but he kept his tongue moving, obscene noises leaving him as he worked you through your orgasm.

Boneless, your thighs went lax against his head, hands slumping to the sides of the bed, releasing the man from your death grip. But he either didn’t notice or didn’t care, still drinking you in. But you were starting to feel overstimulated, and you let out a small noise of complaint, which got Arthur to stop. He tried to hide a proud smile as he came back up, but you saw the corners of his mouth were raised slightly as he lay on his side next to you, letting you take a moment to recuperate.

You took a few moments to just breathe, regaining control over your body and heart rate. Turning your head to face him, you slowly opened your eyes, and you nearly immediately shut them when you saw your arousal absolutely soaking his face. “I-,” if you weren’t flushed before, you sure were now.

Now Arthur was grinning, realizing what you were looking at. He wiped his mouth like he just finished a delicious meal. “I could do that all day.” He brushed his fingers across your body, not demanding anything, but just feeling you. “You doin’ alright?”

You scoffed. “You’re askin’ me that? I nearly killed you with my thighs!”

“I told you I don’t mind if it hurts. And it’d’ve been a hell of a way to die,” he joked, and you slapped him lightly on the chest, which, much to your disappointment, was still covered with a shirt. You noticed, as your gaze went south, that he was still fully clothed, and you found yourself frowning at that.

“What’s wrong?” Arthur asked, confusion and worry now etched on his face, and he began to retract his hand slowly.

“You’re wearin’ too many clothes,” you whined, tugging at Arthur’s shirt.

He sighed in relief. “Whatever my good girl wants,” he chuckled, even more so when your breathing hitched. He got up, standing right next to the side of the bed. He slowly began unbuttoning his shirt, and you sat on your heels in front of him, waiting.

When you deemed that he was taking too long, you started untucking his shirt, working the buttons at the bottom. “Impatient?”

“I’ve waited two fuckin’ years, Arthur.” You hadn’t meant to sound angry, but your patience was truly wearing thin. You didn’t feel too bad when he started unbuttoning faster, the article off before you realized, joining the pile beside him. His pants were off shortly thereafter, the belt still in them hitting the ground with a clang, and he kicked them off his feet.

You moved back to let Arthur get back in the bed, and he sat where you were minutes prior, back against the pillows and headboard. Straddling his waist, your hands immediately started roaming the newly exposed skin, his muscles twitching under your touch. He truly was beautiful, almost aggravatingly so. He was well built, strong muscles protected by a healthy layer of fat that made him even bigger.

Various scars and marks littered his body, all proof of surviving a hard life; you kissed each one you saw. Your fingers ran across his abs, the muscles tensing as you went along. You were surprised to find that his entire body was covered in hair, not just his arms and legs, but you definitely weren’t complaining, the pure masculinity from it all the more attractive.

Speaking of masculinity, an experimental roll of your hips against Arthur’s had the man groaning, head rolling back slightly. But it also let you know that he wasn’t just well built, but well endowed. Quite endowed, if you were being honest.

After giving him a quick kiss, you moved back until you were more on his knees, and you tugged at the waistband of his undergarments. Like you, he lifted his hips up, and you quickly discarded it behind you.

One look and you knew you were in for a long night. He was long, yes, but thick as well, able to stretch you out in all the right places. You tried to wrap your hand around the base of him, your fingers nowhere close to reaching each other. Slowly, you began to pump him, and he let out a strangled moan. His tip was red and leaking, and you wanted nothing more than to lean forward and lick it. And you tried to, at least, but he redirected you with his fingers around your jaw, bringing his lips crashing against yours.

The kiss was filthy, his tongue sweeping into your mouth like he owned it. The fingers on your jaw kept your mouth open, a moan leaving you when you tasted yourself on him. He pulled back, eyes shutting when you continued to move your hand up and down his length. He stilled you by grabbing your wrist, pulling you back up so that you were straddling his waist again.

“Y’feel amazin’, princess, I just wanna last.” He let go of you, settling his hands on your waist instead. “You ready?”

“Please, Arthur.” One hand gripped his bicep, the other on his shoulder. “I need you.”

“And you’ll have me. Just don’t wanna see you hurt.” You felt his hand creep up your front, hovering just in front of your face, and his pointer and middle fingers brushed your bottom lip. “Suck,” he instructed, digits pressing gently against the seam of your lips. You parted your lips, enthusiastically taking them into your mouth, running your tongue alongside the bottom of them. Your eyes never left his, and you felt him twitch beneath you as you bobbed your head up and down. “Atta girl,” he praised, “get ‘em nice and wet for me.”

You’re sure you were soaking his lap at this point, but you didn’t care. Working your tongue along the knuckles, his hand quickly became covered in your drool. With a pop, his fingers left your mouth, leaving you panting around nothing. You watched, transfixed, as Arthur brought his hand to his cock, slowly stroking himself as he coated his length. He let out a soft gasp, eyes rolling to the back of his head, and the delicious noise had you clenching around nothing.

After a few passes, he stilled at the base, holding himself upright. Urging you to get up on your knees, you scooted until you were just hovering above him. His tip nudged your entrance, and you both let out similar moans as you slowly sunk down on his length. Your fingers dug into the muscles of his bicep, most likely leaving crescent-shaped marks in their wake.

“That’s it. Nice and slow now…” he spoke, voice strained and clipped. The hand on your waist was vice-like, Arthur using every ounce of restraint in his body to not just sink you down on to him.

Even though Arthur had done some prep with his fingers, and your mixed arousal and spit helped to ease things along, the stretch still burned. You rocked up and down, slowly taking more and more of him in you. Small noises left your lips as you worked yourself down, feeling every ridge of him in you, and your face buried into his neck. “Relax,” Arthur murmured, the hand on your hip rubbing reassuringly on your back. “We’ve got all the time in the world.”

“Arthur…” you moaned, your legs beginning to shake at the exertion.

“I know, princess. You’re doin’ so well. Just a lil’ bit more.” He kissed the top of your head, which would’ve been more wholesome outside the current circumstance.

It took a little bit of you moving up and down him, working yourself open until you were able to take him completely. Eventually, your hips were flush with his, and your head rolling back as you finally felt him fully sheathed in you. You’d never felt so full before, his cock reaching places you’d hadn’t realized existed.

When you leaned back, it puffed your chest in his face, and his mouth was on you in seconds, lapping and sucking and kneading at the soft flesh there. “Oh, Arthur.” Your hands were in his hair, keeping him close as he lavished your breasts. “You feel so good.”

Not stopping for a second, you heard him something, and the tone was almost proud, but it was hard to tell over the blood rushing in your ears. As you let yourself get used to him, rocking up and down him slowly, you moved your head to the side to let him bring his mouth up your neck, and you saw something brown out of the corner of your eyes. Turning even further, you saw Arthur’s hat a few feet behind you, and a wicked idea crossed your mind.

It took a bit of reaching to get the hat, causing you to pull yourself away from Arthur’s mouth. He let out a noise of complaint, hands trying to bring you back until he realized what you were reaching for. “Princess…” his usually gravelly voice was even more so, the word barely audible through his clenched teeth.

“What?” You flashed him an innocent smile. Clutching his hat in your hand, you slowly rode him, sinking up and down his cock. You tried to seem unaffected, but you couldn’t stop the whimper that you let out.

You secured it on your head, clenching around him when you heard the almost predatory growl that left him. He was losing the battle with his restraint, and you wanted nothing more than to see him succumb to his desire. Running your fingers though the hair on his pecs, you brought your lips close to his, only a hair’s width away from connecting. “Princess.” It was more of a warning than anything, and you felt him let out a huff of air.

“What’s the matter?” You teased.

“Nothin’,” you watched his eyes flick down to your entrance, watching his cock disappear into you. You would’ve believed that he was content with you just using him for your pleasure, enjoying the feeling of your walls fluttering around him, but you’d seen the look in his eye when you put his hat on, and felt the way his fingers tightened on you as he fought to not to just take you as he pleased.

You wanted to see him lose the control he fought so hard to maintain.

“Really? Cause you seem tense, cowboy. Like you’re holdin’ back.” You smiled gently, rubbing his chest reassuringly.

“Dunno what you mean,” he tried to play dumb, looking away from you as he spoke.

You brought his gaze back to yours, caressing the side of his face as you did so. “I don’t want you to.”

It took a few moments for Arthur to respond, eyes not leaving yours as you continued to ride him. “Are you sure, princess? I…” he exhaled shakily, “It might hurt-”

“I know what I want, Arthur. You’re not the only one who likes it a little rough.” You brushed your lips over his, and you could tell he was still fighting himself. “I wanna feel you for days after this, Arthur. I wanna be able to feel you whenever I walk, every ache I feel remindin’ me of when you absolutely ruined me. I need you to ruin me, Arthur. Please, fuck me-”

Your rambling was cut short when he smashed his lips against yours, muffling your noises as he effortlessly lifted you off his cock before slamming you back down. He set a brutal pace, hips snapping up as he fucked up into you. The kiss didn’t last long, your head rolling back again, hat barely staying on your head as he took you as he pleased.

The sound of your collective moans filled the air, the sound of skin-on-skin muffled by your voice. “Yes, Arthur!” you cried out, and you felt yourself working up to another climax, already worked up from riding him previously. You tried to praise him some more, but you words came out garbled and incoherent, too overwhelmed with what he was doing to be able to develop a sentence.

“What’s that, princess?” you could hear him smirk.

You tried to respond, but all you could let out was a loud moan. You were just happy you weren’t back at camp, or else you’d never be able to look anyone in the eye ever again.

You heard him moan out your name. “You feel so good, you know that?” He panted. “Like you were made for me to ruin.”

You let out another cry of his name, growing closer and closer to your release. “That’s right, let everyone know who’s fucking this pretty cunt so well.”

In the back of your mind, you knew that Arthur was going to be embarrassed as hell afterwards, saying stuff like this. But the filthy words coming from his lips had you gasping, a jolt of arousal shooting through your body. You said his name like a mantra, spurring him on even more. “Arthur, I’m- I’m so close,” you moaned.

“Fuck, me too, princess,” he didn’t slow down his pace, and you felt him bring his fingers to your clit, caressing the bundle of nerves. “C’mon then, cum for me.”

The added stimulation from his fingers, plus the sharp drag of his cock across your walls was enough to make you cum, his hat finally falling off as your head was thrown back in pleasure. This one was much more intense than the the last one, and you swore you blacked out for a second.

You probably did blackout, because you hadn’t realized you were on your back until a few moments later, Arthur’s hips snapping into you as he chased his own release. He pulled out suddenly, and you felt yourself pulse around nothing, feeling empty at the lack of him. Arthur was on his knees above you, pumping himself quickly as he came all over your chest, hot ropes of cum hitting your stomach and breasts.

He sagged forward once he finished, hands on either side of your body as he laid there catching his breath, being mindful to not crush you. You ran your nails along his scalp, the man shuddering under your touch. A few moments passed, both of you just basking in the afterglow of your release. The room wasn’t cold anymore, the heat generated from the both of you causing a sheen of sweat to cover your bodies. A bath definitely sounded good right now, but you didn’t want to get up, body pleasantly sore and exhausted.

You felt Arthur sit back up, getting off the bed entirely. You watched him grab one of the rags from the water basin, pouring a bit of water on it before returning to you. You let out a small hiss as the cold water made contact with your skin, Arthur apologizing as he cleaned you up. His touch was light, reverent, his eyes filled with an emotion you weren’t able to place as he wiped down your body. As Arthur walked away, wiping down himself as well, you situated yourself under the covers, the silk feeling wonderful against your skin as you nuzzled into the pillows.

Arthur joined you shortly, the bed shifting under his weight as he joined you under the covers. You watched him open his arms for you, and you gladly let yourself be wrapped up in them, your chests pressed together, and you felt him press a gentle kiss to the top of your head. “You alright?”

Smiling, you looked up at him. “I’m amazin’,” your voice was scratchy. “Just sore. And don’t you dare apologize,” you glared at him when he opened his mouth to do just that.

“We can get you a bath later, if you’d like.”

“As long as you join me.”

You felt Arthur chuckle, his chest rumbling against yours, kissing you now on the forehead. “Whatever you want.”

Sighing contentedly, you stared at Arthur, who had now closed his eyes, his tiredness now making itself known. You were too busy scanning his features that you hadn’t noticed him cracking an eye open, raising a brow quizzically at you. “What?”

“You’re very beautiful, Arthur.”

You watched him stammer for a second, the bright red flush returning to his face from minutes prior. “It’d be pointless to disagree with you, wouldn’t it, princess?”

“Yup,” you giggled. The two of you sat in comfortable silence after that, until a question you’d been meaning for a while came back to you at that moment. “Why’d you call me that?”

“Call ya what?”

“Princess. I thought we already established that I ain’t one.”

“You want me to stop?”

You shook your head. “You better not. I like it. I’m just curious why you use it.”

“To be completely honest, I ain’t quite sure why either,” he chuckled. “It started as a bit of a joke, before we became serious. But I liked the way you reacted to it, so I kept callin’ you it just to see your reaction. I kept sayin’ it after because you deserve to be called somethin’ unique, somethin’ that’s special to us.”

“Earlier, you said I was something’ better than a princess. What’s that?”

“It’s cheesy,” he tried to avoid the question, but you gave him a pointed look. Sighing, he relented. “You’re, well, you. You’re an outlaw, a gunslinger, a survivor. You’re a confidant, a friend, a leader. You’re my girl, my angel, the best thing that has ever happened to me. All things that are infinitely better than some royal title.” He shrugged. “And sure, maybe you ain’t a princess, but you deserve to be treated like one. I guess callin’ you that, it’s a constant reminder for me to treat you like the incredible person you are, and to not take your love for granted.”

You held back the tears that threatened to spill from your eyes. “You’re oddly poetic at times.”

“I told ya it was cheesy,” he grumbled, the bashful smile on his face dropping when he saw the tears in your eyes. “Shit, it wasn’t that bad, was it?”

Despite the single tear rolling down your face, you laughed. “I love you so much, Arthur Morgan.”

He said your name slowly, wiping away the tear with the pad of his thumb. “I love you too.” You tried to smile at him, but a yawn overtook you, causing Arthur to laugh lightly. “Let’s get some rest. I’ll be right here.”

“You promise?”

“I promise.”

#arthur morgan #arthur morgan rdr2 #arthur morgan x reader #rdr2 #red dead redemption 2

115 notes · View notes