#I would rather have banter with my friends than draw for people that don’t care

[peapod20001]

Bro I’m </3 thinking too hard </3

[strawberrystepmom]

yami x f!noble reader. nsfw, ageless blogs and minors get blocked on sight. banter, some feelings for flavor. | wc 714, divider by @cafekitsune

you can read more about these two here

“Y’know, you’re a surprisingly decent good luck charm.” Yami sucks his teeth while tying off the heavy bag of coin he managed to accrue throughout the night downstairs, “I think people have a hard time lyin’ to that face.”

He cups your cheeks and you giggle, shaking your head. Your eyes dart from him to the bag of coins next to him, raising a brow with a wry smile. “Except for you?”

One of his thumbs rubs a small pattern on your chin, just below your lower lip, savoring the feel of soft skin beneath the rough pad. He scoffs and mirrors your raised brow with one of his own, gazing down at you with a smirk. 

“You’re about the only person I haven’t lied to tonight,” he mutters, quickly moving onto his self-defensive next statement. “Besides, it isn’t lying, it’s gambling. They’re different.”

Now you raise both brows and turn your back to him, the laces of your dress revealed to him. Wordlessly he goes to work, used to this old song and dance by this point, the noise of the tavern downstairs only barely muffled by the floor and the walls of the room you’re in. He unties each lace with far more care than he would have in the past, chin resting on your shoulder, no longer needing to look down to check his work. 

He’s too used to this, perhaps, or maybe that’s just a thought for another night. 

“I know you don’t gamble because of the whole serious and perfect thing.” You scoff, turning your head to show your offense at his statement. He kisses your cheek and you back down immediately, shoulders rolling into him. “So what do you do for fun?”

This draws a true laugh from you, open mouthed and shoulders shaking. Your dress loosens and Yami slips the sleeves down, slowly peeling the rest of it down until it’s around your hips, leaving your chest exposed. Your breasts bounce with each laugh and he kisses your shoulder, cupping them gently from beneath. 

“Well, for an obvious instance, I come to see you.”

Chuckling appreciatively, he kisses your shoulder a second time. What was once cupping has now become kneading and you feel compelled to let him continue rather than fuss at him to stop, leaning back against his broad body. 

“When you are occupied, I tend to enjoy spending time at the tea parlor and before you judge me, know that it is a wonderful place to learn more than you thought possible about everyone around you.” He hums and you continue, hissing when he runs a thumb over each of your now hardened nipples. “I also learn a great deal from the children I tend to. Not merely my siblings but their friends and the young women I teach as well. Children are so much more open than their parents.”

Another kiss on your shoulder, followed by one trailing up the juncture where shoulder and neck meet, a third against the side of your neck and the last just below your ear, his voice rumbling against rose scented skin.

“So you’re a gossip?”

Now it’s your turn to laugh appreciatively, reaching over your shoulder to run your fingers through his hair and tug at it gently. A little throaty groan leaves him and you continue your ministrations, massaging his scalp and playing with the strands wrapped around your fingers. 

“If that’s what you’d like to call it, so be it. I say it’s no different from your game of lying.”

Another hum. He nips at your earlobe, distracting himself with your flesh to keep from saying what’s really on his mind. 

“Sometimes I think we’re more alike than you realize, kid.”

Maybe it’s time to revisit that whole too comfortable conversation after all, his mouth running before he can stop himself. You tug at his hair once again, your face warming beneath his praise.

“Now c’mon, my face is gettin’ cold and I know just what will warm it up.”

Yami pats your ass playfully while finally standing to tower over you, turning while removing his shirt. 

“Incorrigible man.” You roll your eyes, unable to bite back your smile while stepping out of your loose dress, kicking the fabric aside while following behind him.

[luveline]

you know, I'm coming right back [Fred Weasley x Reader]

summary: you're a lonely artist and Fred is your adoring model

word count: 2.4k

tags: reader insert, lonely reader, artist reader, seventh year, kids in love, first kiss, getting together, pining, fluff, friends-to-lovers

It was easy for you, usually, to act fine. To feel fine. Any loneliness that clouded your life was pushed firmly into the depths of your thoughts. You tried to focus on the things that mattered, essays and charms and your art.

You loved to draw. You had sketchbooks filled to the brim with sketches, some half finished, others coloured and lined. You drew everything, though you struggled to bring anything from your memory. Everything you drew had to be done right there, right then, with unsuspecting models. You sketched students eating their dinner, scribbled side profiles when you managed a spare minute in class. But you're most impressive artwork was done in the library, where nothing moved. Everyone was silent. You had pages and pages of bored, tired looking students. When exams approached, you hurriedly copied down the expressions of people on the edge of depression and panic.

You had friends, ish. You knew people. You'd had intense friendships that somehow always ended in awkward drifting aparts. Well, you thought. There must be something wrong with me. They liked me before they didn't, so the fault must've been mine.

You huffed out a sigh, pressing your face deep into the textured page of your sketch book, breathing in the smell of charcoal. You were sketching the illusive Fred Weasley, who you'd never truly drawn before. Maybe you had scraps from your second or third year when you'd still attempted to draw moving objects before getting comfortable and accepting that still life was your forte.

He was maddeningly good lucking when his eyebrows puckered in concentration. He seemed to actually be studying for once, sat at a table with his brother, George, and housemates Angelina Johnson and Alicia Spinnet.

You were sat by yourself, and couldn't help listening to his lilting voice as he bantered with his friends. They were talking about Umbridge (the current victim of the Hogwarts' student body hate train), and quidditch, and their recent ban from quidditch. You'd never played.

"Watch out, dolly fell asleep," said one of the girls.

You bit your lip. You'd been nicknamed dolly by the girls in your dorm because of your porcelain doll you'd had since childhood. Even though this year was your last, you still hadn't felt the need to hide her away. She made you feel much less anxious and alone.

The whole school knew, naturally.

"Don't get any funny ideas," said Angelina,  to the twins.

"Come on Angie, you think so little of us?" said George.

"Yesterday I watched you trick a group of forth years into taking puking pastilles." Angelina said.

"It was hardly a trick. We told them they were multi-faceted," said George.

You could hear your heartbeat if you focused. It was in your ears. It bump, bump, bumped.

Bump bump. You flinched, a hand settled on your shoulder quickly moved.

"Wake up, dolly. Library's closing."

You squinted up into Fred's face, head halo'd by candlelight. Lifting your head from the wooden table, you stretched your neck to the left. It clicked.

"Uh..."

"Hmm?" You prompted him, smoothing your hair behind your ears.

"You have - dirt. On your face. Here-" He said, reaching forward. You closed your eyes as he gently wiped the skin above your eyebrow.

"It's charcoal."

"What?"

"It's not dirt," you said, peaking at him through your eyelashes. "It's charcoal."

He looked mildly surprised. You shifted, hoping to cover your sketch before he caught sight of it.

It didn't matter.

"It's me. My gorgeous dolly, you've created quite the masterpiece right there, haven't you? I look vexingly handsome, of course. Thought if that's a consequence of your skill or my handsomeness is anyones guess."

You were lost for words. "Uh, quite."

"Yes, yes, quite. Say, could I keep it?"

"... You want the drawing?"

"I'd love it, if that's okay."

"I," you quickly dug your thumbnail into the paper, tearing carefully at the centre. The paper came away a little ragged and smudged. "Of course. It's yours."

He handled it with care.

The librarian jingled her little bell again.

"Thank you. So, see you?"

"Yep," you agreed.

He nodded his head and bowed out with his friends. You tried not to feel paranoid at their laughter.

-

You were curled up in a hidden alcove, though it was hardly hidden. Most students knew where to seek privacy in the castle. You just so happened to get there first that evening.

You were trying to sketch Fred again. It felt weird to be missing a page from your book, and weirder still that you couldn't remember his face when he wasn't right in front of you. You tried, but it kept going wrong.

When you finally managed one you liked well enough, you had accidentally ruined it with a heavy hand and the wrong shade of brown.

He looked much too brunette.

You carefully rolled your coloured pencils back up, securing the leather ties tightly so as to keep every pencil confined.

Sighing morosely, you flipped to a new page. Things got so complicated sometimes, it made you agitated. You doodled a little sad face in the corner of your page. When the one thing that you enjoyed in life started to go wrong, it set off your whole mood.

Your birthday was coming up. It had been on your mind a lot lately. You'd spend it alone. That's what you figured. Nobody would know it was your birthday, or if they did, you weren't friends now, so...

You began with an arching circle, bisecting the lines appropriately. Feeling out the familiar lines of your own face came easy, the slight upper tilt of your brows, your hair and your pursed mouth. You always looked sad in the mirror, and it showed, dotted here and there when the only thing to draw was your own face.

The rudimentary outline of a birthday cake took form. The candles were unlit.

In a fit of unhappiness, you scratched out your mouth. It was never smiling.

"What did that piece of paper ever do to you?" said a voice.

You jumped. Fred was peering down at you curiously, wringing his hands. You put your pencil between the soft cover and smashed it flat, closed.

"Hi, dolly."

"Weasley."

"Oh, not even a first name?"

"You neglected mine first," you reasoned, rolling the words. He smiled at your joking tone.

"How rude of me. Hi, Y/N," he corrected himself.

"Hi, Weasley."

He smirked.

"Anymore of me in that blessed vessel?"

"Nah. You never stand still."

"If I pose for it?" He asked. You patted the ground in front of you.

He was a lovely model. He stayed infinitely still, more still than you imagined possible for him. He sat at a 3/4ths angle, chin up but not too far, mouth tilted and eyes open.

His eyes were the one thing he couldn't keep still. You tried not to flame in the cheeks everything you'd catch his gaze on you.

You sketched fast, choosing to hatch rather than render, big swooping lines to give the illusion of a depth that wasn't really there. You would've loved to do a full render, maybe even a colour portrait, but he was beginning to look a little antsy.

You set the book on the floor to face him and pushed it into his eyesight softlt. He turned. He looked nice like that, face bent, hair falling into his eyes.

After a moment, he began scrounging through his robe pockets. He set down a box, a lighter, a pair of gloves.

Finally, he set a galleon onto the floor close to your crossed legs.

"For you," he said, smiling at your inquisitive look. "For the drawing."

"Oh, I can't accept that. And I'd like to keep this one, if it's alright."

Fred thought for a moment. "Alright, you keep it. And the galleon, too, for the one you gave me the other day."

You bit back a smile. "I can't take your money, Fred."

"I can't keep having you draw me for free. It's as valuable a service as anything else. Plus, I'm not sure if you know, but I run a lucrative business these days."

You picked up the coin, rubbing your thumb against the engravings thoughtfully. "It's hardly a service."

"A talent, then. A skill. You're very good."

You're neck almost snapped as you looked into his face, wanting to assess his expression for genuineness. He looked earnest, and kind. You blinked away the gathering heat behind your eyes.

"Thank you."

He waved a hand at you. "Think nothing of it."

"Really-" you cleared your throat, "-you're doing me a favour. I'm not good at drawing things that move."

"I'm sure you're better than you think," he said.

You shook your head, smiling smiling smiling.

"What's in the box?"

"Oh, this old thing?" Fred weighed the box in his hands. It was soft at the corners, like a simple jewelry box that you had in your trunk. He offered it to you. You opened it carefully, the lid sliding free with a shhhhh sound. Inside was an evil looking fruit pastille, a match stick and a dried up flower petal.

It felt like a very private thing to see, suddenly. Such an eclectic collection of items couldn't be random.

"The first puking pastille George and I made. Or rather, the second - the first was forcibly fed to Lee Jordan in our third year. The match stick is from my Uncle's matchbox. I never met him. And the flower was from Ginny, when she was 9." He sounded nervous.

"It's a memory box."

"I- yes. It is. Things are sometimes so miserable now, with Umbridge and you-know-who. Scary, even. I look at them when I feel like it won't ever end."

You took them in for a little while longer and then placed the lid onto the box with nimble fingers. You scratched the lid with a fingernail.

"It's nice. You're right. Things are so awful right now, it's good to have reminders of why we keep going."

"Exaclty. Dolly, can I interest you in a fruit pastille?"

"Not on your life."

"They're perfectly edible!"

"Sure, Fred."

-

The honest conversation you'd shared with Fred was a catalyst between you. He often came to find you, each time whining and nagging you to just sit in the library like most people do.

"What, so your housemates can throw paper balls at me?"

"They thought you were sleeping!"

A likely story, you thought. He sometimes asked you to draw him, posing with the elegance of a natural born model. It was great for you personally, you felt that you were really getting a feel for his face. Eventually, you were able to draw his face from memory, the details of his nose coming to your fingers as easily as a first year spell.

It became about capturing emotion. You could capture his likeness now without a second thought, but his emotions were much more complicated. How would you show his veiled frustration the day Umbridge kicked him off the quidditch team? Through the clenching of his jaw? The shy veins in his forehead? How did you showcase the fear when he'd come back to Hogwarts after Christmas break, through his eyes, downturned and squinting just a little?

Today, it was poorly hidden elation. "How come you're so happy?" You asked, pencil between your teeth. He grinned. You measured his face with your thumb in the air, forming an L.

"Is it a prank?"

"You're thinking too small."

"A new product?"

"Still need to go bigger!"

"Hmmm," you hummed. Measure twice, cut once. Or in your case, sketch once.

"George and I, we're gonna open a shop."

"A section at Zonko's isn't enough for you?" You asked, casually, though you were very very happy for him.

"It's going to be amazing. We're going to run it, just the two of us, and you won't catch me in these scrappy long sleeves anymore. The next time you see me, I'll be in a full suit and tie."

"The next time? Is that not tomorrow?"

Fred closed his mouth, realising his mistake. He had revealed something he hadn't intended to. "We're leaving," he confessed. "We were going to wait for our NEWTs but... Well, we won't need them. This is going to work."

"So. You're leaving today?" You asked, crestfallen.

"Hey," Fred said, rubbing a placating hand over the curve of your shoulder. "Tomorrow. During the DADA OWL. We have a plan."

"This is goodbye?"

"No! No. Not if you don't want it to be. Actually, I've been meaning to ask you something, and maybe now isn't the best time, I had this whole letter planned and I didn't want to distract you from your exams and-"

"What do you want to ask me?"

Fred straightened. "I wanted to ask - will you go out with me? Not, you don't have to be my girlfriend if it's too soon, I'd love to take you for food someplace, I was going to ask you to Hogsmeade, but when the shop officially became ours, the plans changed so fast and I didn't know if you'd still want-" you cut off his rambling.

"I'll be your girlfriend," you said.

"You will?"

"Sure, if you'll be my boyfriend," you murmured.

Fred moved the arm that had been on your shoulder to the nape of your neck. "That's a dealbreaker," he said, leaning in.

He kissed you chastely on the lips first and then pulled back to look into your face. You chased him, a moment of bravery, and opened your mouth to taste him. He was sweet, like sugar. Your sketch pad crinkled beneath you both as he pressed forward. Your chests touched, heaving.

"You're not gonna be my boyfriend?" You asked against his mouth, breathing hard.

"I'm gonna be much more than that, dolly," he said heatedly.

Your mouth was tingling. "Kiss me again?"

You gasped at the force of him, laughing. He laughed too against your lips, and the sound tickled. He gave you a multitude of short and sweet kisses before pulling away again.

He wiped the wetness from your lip with his pinky finger. "Godric, you're cute. Look how flushed you are! You're insane."

Something churned in your stomach. The butterflies had acquired a trampoline. You felt happier than you had in a very long time. "You're not half-bad yourself, Weasley."

[mochegato]

Even the Losers

Chapter 1

“You can do this Marinette,” Adrien whispered encouragingly, echoing the mantra she’d been whispering to herself for the past two days.  She could do this.  She could manage.  This was for Max.  She could handle it.  He couldn’t be here but she could.  She could be strong for him.  She gave Adrien a shaky smile and nodded.  “We just have to find him and we can leave,” he reminded her.

Marinette took a breath and let it out slowly. She’d dealt with far, far worse than a few judgmental, heartless asses who had no real interest in her.  But seas of artificial smiles had always unsettled her and currently she was surrounded with so much artificial sweetness she felt like she was walking through a kid’s cereal aisle.  That added onto her already existing anxiety had her ready to bolt at the slightest provocation.

She ran her hand over the skirt of her dress, letting the feeling of the fabric and the knowledge of all that had gone into it soothe her.  She was especially proud of her dress and the work that had gone into it.  It was a black so dark it almost appeared to draw in the light around it.  A mesh with strategically placed blood red decorations overlaid the dress, hugging her bodice until it reached her hips then dropped into a flowing skirt that ended just before it could pool on the ground.

She fought the urge to fiddle with the belt in her nervousness.  She couldn’t show weakness like that, not here.  She looked up at Adrien again in search of an anchor to reality.  She took in his expression and had to stifle the laugh that resulted.  He had his own artificially sweet smile on but his eyes quite clearly begged for a quick death.  He glanced down to her and nudged her discreetly, his artificial smile becoming wide and real.  “Shhhh,” he hushed her under his breath.  “We’re trying not to attract attention to ourselves, remember?  We’re ghosts.”  He looked around to make sure nobody was looking at them.

Marinette immediately quieted, her face becoming somber. She did remember.  In and out.  That was the goal.  Her goal. Knock the man on his ass with Max’s accomplishments, then never see him, or anyone else in this room, other than Adrien of course, ever again.  They were supposed to be like ghosts.  There but not.  Her eyes scanned the room looking for their target.

Adrien’s eyes immediately softened and filled with regret.  “Shit, Mari. I’m sorry.  I didn’t mean to…”

“No,” she looked up at him with an artificial smile of her own.  “I know. It’s fine.  It’s not your fault.”  She scanned the crowd again, cursing her height, as she had many times in her life.  Even with the six inch, death defying heels, she still barely reached Adrien’s eyes, let alone give her any kind of advantage to see the crowd.  She needed some kind of vantage point but unfortunately, the only high point in the ballroom was the stage, which she couldn’t utilize if she was going to follow her Ghost policy.  “We might have more success if we split up.  Let me know if you find him.”

Adrien squeezed her arm quickly before nodding. “Good luck.”

Marinette shot him a genuine smile.  “You too.  May the Luck be with you.”

Adrien laughed and shook his head.  “I never should have forced you to watch that movie.”

Marinette grinned back.  “You never should have forced me to watch the prequels.  The original ones were just fine.”  Adrien narrowed his eyes at her but let it drop in favor of disappearing in the crowd to find their target.

Marinette followed him with her eyes until she couldn’t see him anymore then took a deep breath to brace herself.  Her eyes immediately started darting around and her fingers started dancing.  She needed something to occupy them or she was going to start attracting unwanted attention.

She noted a bar close by and made a beeline for it. She waited politely for the bartender to notice her, her fingers tapping anxiously against the bar while she waited. She froze when she heard a gruff voice next to her.  “Did you sneak in here?”

She turned to the voice and blinked a few times. “Excuse me?”

“You’re anxious and jittery.  Afraid you’re going to get kicked out?” the man elaborated.

Marinette studied him for a moment trying to figure out why he looked so familiar.  “No,” she started slowly, trying to give her brain a chance to answer the puzzle. “Just not a fan of events like this.”

The man scoffed and nodded in understanding. “Cheers.”  He raised his glass for her to clink his but she held out her hands with a sheepish look, showing she didn’t have a drink yet.  “Well, that’s a crime.  Nobody should have to endure one of these without a drink.”  He motioned to the bartender and got an immediate response. “Another for me and a…” he motioned to Marinette to give her order.

“Oh, champagne, please,” she finished with a smile for the bartender.  That’s what was socially acceptable at events like this, right?  Champagne.

The bartender looked to the man for confirmation. The man nodded.  “And a champagne for the woman.”  Marinette scowled at the bartender causing the man to laugh. “He’s just worried that you’re underage. You look awfully young.  You’re not, right?”

Marinette’s glare softened in realization.  “Oh, that makes sense.  No, I’m not.  I forgot the legal age here is higher than in France.”

He nodded and looked at her critically for a moment before offering his hand.  “Jason.”

Marinette immediately reached out for his hand and answered with her name before her brain registered the name he’d given. Jason.  Jason Todd.  Bruce Wayne’s son.  She pulled her hand back quickly as the realization hit her and focused on leveling her breathing.  She grabbed the champagne glass more violently than necessary when the bartender set it down in front of her and immediately downed the entire glass, only coughing a bit as the bubbles tickled her throat.  Overall, champagne was not the best drink to chug.  “Another, please,” she croaked out.

“You know, there are better drinks for that, if that’s what you want to do,” Jason grinned, laughing at her.

“Wasn’t the plan until it was and then that’s all I had,” she croaked out, her voice still hoarse from the bubbles.  She kept her eyes focused on her empty glass as she spoke, almost afraid to make eye contact with him as if just seeing her eyes would be enough to blow her cover.

Jason chuckled and nodded in understanding. “Don’t suppose you’d care to dance?”

Marinette whipped her head to him and stared incredulously, forgetting her previous reservations.  She only moved again when the bartender set the new drink down in front of her.  “Um… no… thank you.  That doesn’t seem… I don’t think my date would be comfortable with that.  Good luck getting drunk enough to handle tonight though.”  She gave him a weak smile and raised her glass to him before moving into the fray again, now armed with a socially acceptable fidget toy.

It took five minutes of avoiding wandering hands and leering looks but with a little luck and some prodding from the goddess hiding in the folds of her skirt, she was finally able to stumble on M. Lucius Fox, Director of Research and Development for Wayne Enterprises.  He was in a conversation he was not remotely interested in with some vapid business exec who was just as interested in M. Fox.  Not that M. Fox’s disinterest was clear.  He was very polite and good at covering his boredom, much more so than his conversation partner, but she’d been at enough stuffy, snobby parties with Adrien, Felix, and Chloe to know the signs.

She took another breath and squared her shoulders, going into Ladybug Mode; calm and confident, completely assured of herself. She was on a mission.  She had a goal and a plan to accomplish it, and once she had a plan, she had a direction and purpose, and with those, her insecurities fell away.  With M. Fox in her sights, she could see the pieces and the way they fit together. There were no more doubts.  She set her glass on a passing waiter’s tray and made her way over to M. Fox.

“The elusive M. Fox.  It is a pleasure to meet you,” Marinette purred, coming up next to him with a charming, real smile.

“I didn’t realize I was hiding,” Lucius responded with a polite smile of his own.

“Must just come naturally.  Foxes are known to be crafty.”  Marinette looked around them and motioned toward the dancefloor. “Would you care to dance, M. Fox?”

He shook his head deferentially.  “Are you sure there aren’t other people here you’d rather dance with?”

Marinette smiled conspiratorially and leaned closer to him, making sure to keep a respectable distance.  She did NOT want to have her banter confused with flirting. That was not the strategy she had devised.  “That would defeat the purpose of coming here.  I came here specifically to speak with you.”

Lucius looked down at her analytically, trying to figure out what her angle was, but took her hand and followed her onto the dancefloor.  “And what did you want to speak about, Ms…?”

“Dupain Cheng.  Marinette Dupain Cheng.  It’s nice to meet you M. Fox.  I wanted to speak to you to sell my friend Max Kante.”

Lucius’ eyes widened almost imperceptibly as the music changed.  After a beat, he chuckled.  “I’m not in the market to buy anyone, but thank you.”  He settled his hands on her mid-back and hand for their dance.

Marinette chuckled good naturedly along with him. “Sell his talents, would be a better way to say it.”

“And where is Mr. Kante?” Lucius raised an eyebrow at her, curious why the young man didn’t bother to come himself.  “Why are you presenting his talents instead of him?”

“Finals.  Had the incredibly bad luck to have a Friday at noon final.  I mean at least it wasn’t at 19h, right?  Can you believe they have those?”  She scrunched up her nose in playful disgust.  “But still means he’s taking it right now.  And for his last final of his career.  I mean… probably.  Knowing him, he might get another PhD at some point.  My finals and presentation ended last week.  M. Wa…” she took a steadying breath and looked back up with a strained smile hoping he wouldn’t notice the stutter.  “M. Wayne even visited for it.  That’s when the idea for this came to me.  So while Max studied, I plotted.”

“So why me then and not Mr. Wayne?” Lucius asked with a curious interest.

Marinette froze for just a second.  Hardly enough for anyone to notice.  Her mind raced to calculate the appropriate response to that question, a satisfactorily casual yet intelligent response.  “M. Wayne isn’t in charge of research.  You are.  Not to mention, I highly doubt the CEO would be involved enough in the research and development projects to know what was going on.  You I take as a man who knows what is going on with all your ongoing projects.”

He nodded.  She wasn’t wrong, or normally wouldn’t be.  Mr. Wayne usually was not involved in any projects and with the exception of one particular project they were having issues with, he wouldn’t know the particulars.  “A very dangerous and elaborate plan.  Why didn’t you make an appointment with me?  Or just stop me on the street?” he prodded, hoping for her thought process.

Marinette laughed lightly.  “I don’t imagine I would have had a chance in Hell of making an appointment with you in your office.  I have no standing, no name, no significance that would have attracted any PA worth their salt’s attention.  I would have been pawned off onto a low ranking employee to handle, if I was handled at all.  And something like this needed to be taken to you.  

“As for running into you on the street, I can’t imagine you would have responded positively to getting accosted on the street. You seem more than capable of handling yourself with grace in the face of a pest.  I doubt I would have gotten more than a few words in.  At a gala however,” she grinned conspiratorially at him. “Societal convention.  Almost absolute certainty of at least one dance where I would have you one-on-one for a few minutes.  Hostage audience.  Figured I could use it to my advantage for once.”

Lucius smiled back at her ingenuity.  “There’s an application process he could have gone through,” he noted.  

Mari nodded and looked out to the crowd, scanning it.  “Right, applying to M. Fedor Rabler,” she said distractedly.  “He did that.”

Lucius nodded in understanding.  Their application process was tough.  Lots of amazing candidates didn’t get through. He had to respect her devotion to her friend, to risk coming here and potentially making an enemy of Wayne Enterprises if he’d been that sort of man.  His eyes turned sympathetic.  “I’m sorry he was passed over.”

“You know, I’ve noticed Elspeth Cole puts forth a lot of inventions and extremely varied ones at that,” she continued as though she hadn’t heard his consolation.  “Most inventors, you can see their process, you can see how they got from one invention to the next, but hers… they’re so varied.  It’s almost like they’re coming from completely different people.”  Lucius watched her carefully, waiting to see where she was going with this.  “That’s them, isn’t it?  Dancing together.  Awfully close for purely colleagues.”

Lucius followed her sight line to Ms. Cole and Mr. Rabler dancing extremely closely.  Not obscenely, but perhaps a bit closer than was normally acceptable at a society event such as this one.  “It’s hardly incriminating that two people with expertise in electrical engineering would get together,” he said slowly.

“Max is amazing.  Brilliant,” Marinette said, seemingly not noticing her non-sequitur. “He created an AI that helped the Parisian superheroes locate and defeat our supervillain at only 14.”  Lucius’ brow rose.  That was certainly promising.  He wondered what would have caused them not to take such an applicant.  Surely there was some sort of embellishment there, but as he studied her, she seemed entirely genuine.  

“He’s being scouted by several high profile companies including Lexcorp and Palmer Technologies.”  She turned her attention back to Lucius, a curious pout on her lips. “But not Wayne Enterprises.”  She looked away with clearly forced casualness. “Lexcorp and Palmer, they’re offering pretty impressive packages.  Not as good as he deserves in my opinion, but I may be a bit biased.  Wayne Enterprises however… nothing.  Not even an offer.

“Now, I don’t really have a dog in the fight… other than wanting my friend to be safe and treated with the respect he deserves. But Palmer Technologies gets blown up by a villain or its inventors kidnapped far too frequently for me to be comfortable with my friend working there.  And Lexcorp…”  She looked down as if in thought before looking back at him again with a determined look in her eye.

“You know, I get a feeling sometimes.  I can’t really explain it, just get a feeling about people or things.  I’ve found it’s best for me and the people around me if I listen to that feeling and that feeling tells me Lex Luthor is the last person who should be trusted with a brain as brilliant as Max’s.”  She looked back over to Mr. Rabler and Ms. Cole.  “That same feeling told me Max shouldn’t trust the application process for Wayne Enterprises.”  

She looked back at Lucius with an apologetic smile. “No offense.  So, I convinced Max to make a small part of his submission just a little off.  Just a bit. Enough that even an expert could miss it, but if it’s wrong the project could never work.  It took a lot of convincing to get him to do it.  He refused to believe he had anything to worry about in Wayne Enterprises with its stellar reputation.”  She scrunched up her face in annoyance.  “But that feeling, you know?  I couldn’t get over it.  After a lot of work, I convinced him there was no harm.  After all, if he was hired he could fix it.  If he wasn’t… well, you shouldn’t be using what he presented anyway, right? No harm, no foul as you Americans say.”

“No,” Lucius agreed.  “That would be theft and completely against WE policy and standards.  In fact, we should not be asking applicants to submit anything like that in the first place.”

Marinette smiled and nodded approvingly.  “I’ve heard rumblings, or rather Max has, of WE getting into transmutation of materials.  Just can’t get that algorithm right though, can you?  Algorithms are hard.  Just a little off and nothing works.”

He stared at her.  That was a secret project.  Other departments in Wayne Enterprises didn’t even know about it.  “I can’t comment on ongoing projects.”  

“I never did show you what Max is capable of, did I?”  She gave him a bright smile and reached down to press a disguised button on her belt. Lucius tensed and cursed himself for exposing himself to whatever she was about to do.  A wave of emerald green washed over the front of her bodice as the blood red decorated mesh overlay turned into a brilliant emerald green that reflected the lights now rather than absorbing it.

Lucius’ eyes widened in surprise, a feat very few had been able to draw out of him.  “He designed the fabric?” he whispered out.  He reached out tentatively to touch the fabric at her shoulder.

Marinette grinned brilliantly at his reaction.  It was no less than Max deserved.  He’d worked incredibly hard on it.  “He did,” she nodded in confirmation, “and the software that controls it.  The whole dress can change but we’re kind of surrounded here and I didn’t want to attract too much attention.”  She let him touch it for a moment before pushing the button again to turn it back into the black, then allowing him to feel the mesh to confirm it was the same fabric.  “He has ideas for changing the texture as well, but limited resources you know? Something I’d hope wouldn’t be an issue at WE.”

“How does it work?”  His eyes were still focused on the fabric at her shoulder. He took a quick look at the rest of the bodice, but quickly snapped his eyes back to her shoulder.  The neckline was conservative, but it was still rather unbecoming to stare at the young woman’s chest.

Marinette laughed.  “You’ll have to ask Max that.  I just designed the dress.  I don’t really understand the mechanics behind it, but he does.  I doubt Ms. Cole can say the same.”

Lucius stared in awe at her shoulder before looking back up to her eyes and nodding in understanding.  “Interesting.  I’ll take that under advisement.  Maybe we should be scouting you as well.”

Mari laughed.  “No, thank you.  I’m not an inventor.  I’m a designer.  But I appreciate the interest.”

Lucius nodded and led her off the dancefloor with the end of the song.  “Inventor or not, we can always use someone with intuition, intelligence, and ingenuity like you’ve demonstrated.”  

Marinette gave him a brilliant, somewhat familiar smile. “That’s very flattering.  Thank you, M. Fox.  But tonight is about Max.  I have my own, separate plans for my future.”

Lucius nodded in understanding.  “Our loss,” he answered sincerely.  “If you ever need any help or advice, please feel free to call me.  I’m sure Mr. Kante will have it soon enough and can pass it onto you.”  He looked back down to her shoulder again.  “If I may…”  He motioned toward her shoulder.  

Marinette laughed.  “Of course.  I understand how truly impressive it is.  It’s been incredibly inspirational, thinking of the options.”

“And what did your intuition tell you about tonight?” He looked up to meet her eyes, curious about her answer.

Marinette’s face went slack for a moment before she pasted on a bittersweet smile.  “That it would be costly but worth it.”

Lucius quirked his head to the side.  “In what way?”

Marinette shook her head absently and took a sudden interest in M. Fox’s tie.  “I’m not sure yet.”

Mr. Fox’s eyes softened.  “Would he be available to meet on Monday?”

Marinette grin and snapped her eyes up to him. Mission success!  Max was going to get his interview!  “He can be.”

“I’d actually like to speak with both of you, if you don’t mind.  In my office at 10 Monday?” he offered.  

Marinette faltered.  “In Wayne Enterprises?”

Lucius chuckled.  “Naturally.”

Marinette swallowed heavily.  “Why don’t we meet somewhere else?  Early morning coffee perhaps?” she offered instead with an artificial smile.  “Here’s my card.  Have someone give me a call or text and I can arrange it.  He’s scheduled to fly in tomorrow morning.  He was supposed to meet with Lexcorp Monday morning, but he’ll be at coffee to meet you instead.”

Lucius smiled back at her as he slipped her card into his pocket.  “I greatly appreciate your candor and support Ms. Dupain Cheng.”  He took her hand in both of his to shake it.  “I cannot tell you how good it was to meet you.  And if you ever get one of those feelings about me or Wayne Enterprises, let me know, okay?”

“Lucius.”

Lucius froze at the cold voice, not accustomed to that tone of voice directed at him.  He looked over curiously and missed Marinette freezing before pushing another button on her belt.

Chapter 2

Tags:

@maribat-bdbwm

[mae-gi-writes]

Yūgen | Sunwoo (The Boyz)

Yugen (n.) a profound, mysterious sense of the beauty of the universe that triggers a deep, emotional response. 

Requested by anon! In which Sunwoo, the ace of the volleyball team, is curious about what you’re drawing all the time. Until one day, he stumbles upon a drawing of himself made from yours truly. 

Genre: fluff, volleyball player! Sunwoo and art student reader, shy love, softness, and inspired by haikyuu because I have been obssessed with the anime lately TT__TT  A/N: It feels like it’s been ages since I’ve posted here! Slowly but surely, I’m going through my inbox and replying to your requests. Thank you for your patience, stay safe loves, ily all xx 

-----

Sunwoo wasn't artistically inclined.

But that never stopped him from admiring those that were. He was always so curious as to how just a flick of fingers managed to create a shadow, or how just one glance at a subject made it through onto paper without so much as an effort to remember the details. It was like it was automatically recorded into one's brain, hands already registered to mimic the curves and the folds and the shadows that turned into nothing short of a miraculous piece. So when he caught sight of someone drawing, it always piqued his interest. He stumbled upon you one late afternoon after his volleyball practice, with sweat dotting his forehead and his training bag slung casually over his shoulder. He was about to direct his way to the parking lot upon exiting the gymnasium, only to spot a lone figure huddled upon the bleachers and curled into a ball that caused Sunwoo to frown. Slowly sidling up to the stranger in question and peeking over the railing to catch a glimpse of your face, his eyes are instantly driven to the sketchpad in your hands.

You didn't notice him though, so absorbed in your own world with earphones blocking out reality that a tsunami could've gone unnoticed. So Sunwoo took advantage to climb over onto the opposite bleacher and, after ensuring that your back wouldn't turn to greet him, leaned over the separation to catch sight of a lone figure cartwheeling freely over the page. Woah. You were talented alright. There was nothing else to describe the fluidity of movement you caught with your pencil. It made Sunwoo's breath catch in his throat. He had the sudden urge to know exactly what kind of face hid behind the visual mastery manifesting before his very eyes. After all, there must be other things for them to see rather than the boring literal reality that most people settled for. What kind of imageries were they creating in their heads? What beautiful stories were they crafting? Worlds they got lost in? You moved then, causing Sunwoo to jolt back and scurry away with his heart beating out of his chest, deciding that it was enough spying for the day. After that day, he made sure to seek you out every time after practice although he noticed you never strayed too long in the same place, always moving about like a shadow lingering in the corner, invisible yet omniscient. Sometimes you would find a quiet spot in a patch of sunlight by the tennis courts. Sometimes you'd be found on the bleachers, alert eyes observing every pass, every move, every twist of a body like  camera taking everything in. Sunwoo never approached you. Not that he didn't want to, but he found it awkward to just come up to you and present himself as the guy who'd been stalking your drawings. So he admired you from afar instead, relished in the passion of your dark coffee coloured eyes and in the attentive focus dipping your eyebrows in a soft frown, lips paeted slightly in concentration. "Do you know her?" He'd asked one of his friends from the volleyball team once, during their lunch break as he saw you line up at the cafeteria. Changmin took a peek at your face before he shook his head, "she might be in one of my electives." "Which one?" "I think it's art." Sunwoo forced his face to remain in a mask of calmness as he grabbed a steak sandwich, no fries, "do you know her name?" "Nah. I don't think she's ever spoken in class," Changmin's eyebrows quirk up then, "why'd you ask?" "No reason." Changmin's pointed look defined anything but that.  Although he did have the decency to drop the subject as soon as the rest of the volleyball team joined the table. Sunwoo got his answer a few days later when he practically toppled over you and your drawing crayons. It was his mistake. He'd been leaning too far out from the top of the basketball bleachers, struggling to get even the smidgest glimpse of what amazing piece of art hiding under your jacket sleeve, only for his foot to slip. Down he went with a curse, crashing straight into your body and quickly scrabbling to wrap his arms around your head, a pathetic attempt to cushion your fall as you fell into a heap in front of the bleachers. "You--you okay?" He huffed out, breathless and heart beating like a time bomb. Pulling his arms away slowly, gently, he finally met your gaze straight on and --oh my, your eyes were not coffee coloured at all.  But more of a honey-brown, wide open and framed by soft lashes. Currently dilated in panic. "I'm fine! What--What about you? Oh gosh, I'm so sorry--" "No it was my fault," he made a grab for your sketchbook and scattered pens only for his orbs to register the face messily etched onto the paper. His breath caught. For a minute, he could do nothing but stare at the replica of his face made in charcoal. Those were his eyes, his slightly crooked nose. The scowl he wore during his soccer matches. That was him. The resemblance was akin to that of perfection. That was before your hands snatched away the sketchbook before you quickly slammed it closed, cheeks blazing red, "that's-- I swear I"m not a creep, I-- I just do that for practice--" "It's amazing." Your head-- which had been bowed this entire time for fear that anger would be his response -- shot up in surprise, "what?" "It's amazing," Sunwoo repeated. He wouldn't mind repeating it forever, he realized, if that meant he got to see that aforable blush of yours. He reached out with his hand, "can I look at it again?" So you allowed him after some slight hesitation, and if he noticed, he didn't comment. Fingers brushing against yours slightly, he handled the sketchbook with utmost care as he flipped through the pages with child-like awe. He'd seen your drawings, sure, but mere glimpses here and there, a sneak peek, always accompanied with the fear of being found. But now, he could take his time and actually relish in the soft tracings of your crayon, admire the gentle shadings that made up the tip of his nose. You had managed to capture that frown -- the one he used whenever he concentrated -- to perfection and for a minute he swore he'd fallen in love with himself. "You're really good," he murmured, though that definitely banalized the array of praises popping through his head, "you should keep doing them. I mean it." "So, you're not--" you paused, "mad?" "Well I think you'd have more reason to be mad if you knew I was stalking you from before." "What?" Oh Sunwoo, you idiot. Your eyes had tripled their size and you were looking at him like he'd just grown a second head. He lifted his hands as defence, "that sounded so much better in my head. I swear I'm not that creepy, or a stalker, I just--well you're always drawing and I got curious but I can't really come over and tell you to show me so I had to hide and peek and--" You burst out laughing in his face and despite the fact that he was the cause, he couldn't help joining in with a small chuckle, a grin spreading across his features at how alive you looked at this very moment. "You can ask me next time," your grin settled into a soft smile, "I don't bite." "Your words, not mine," he said, tone lighter and teasing. He helped you gather your belongings and as the pair of you started towards the school gates, he asked for your name. "Y/N," you answered, "and you?" "Sunwoo," he noticed the sky was darkening into purple, a sign that twilight was approaching. Usually, he'd be in a hurry to catch the last bus of the evening to avoid the pain of traffic after six. But it was like his body was slowing down on its own to join your pace, as if he was automatically tuning in to the rhythm of your steps. He found he didn't mind. "So why athletes? Any special reason why you like drawing them?" He asked as you reached the gates. "I just like watching the way they move. It's ...graceful," a hand went to rub the back of your neck, "and they come in handy for figure practice." "I mean, we're not that graceful when you're on the pitch ready to get blown away," he chuckled, "but thanks. At least we know we don't play like animals." "Oh god no. The volleyball team's pretty good. The rugby team on the other hand..." you sigh before you shake your head, "that team is nearly impossible to draw." His shoulders shook as he laughed, "well I don't think they aim for graceful. They look like a pack of wild dogs. Even I don't understand how they play." You had reached the said bus stop by then before you spotted your mother's car along the sidewalk, "oh, my mom's here," you turn to him, "where do you live? Maybe we can drop you--" Meeting your mom? On the first day of meeting you? Sunwoo's hands flew up, shaking them wildly in response, "oh no no, that's not necessary. I'll see you tomorrow!" Thank god for the bus that pulled up at the right time so that he didn't have to linger longer than he needed to. But he didn't miss the small wave of your hand as you watched him go, the smile on your face warming his heart even when it was one of the coldest winter days of the year. From that day onwards, Sunwoo made it a must to make his presence known whenever you were deep in your sketches, always observing, sometimes silently keeping you company and sometimes getting so wrapped up in conversation that your pens would lay forgotten by your bag as you bantered back and forth about subjects that would've made people throw you looks of concern. It became routine to have Sunwoo's head pop up from behind the bleachers or to see him walk up the path to your special hiding spot, right where your gaze would meet the tennis court. You sketched him more and more, folding your drawings into your bag so that he wouldn't see although the urge to catch his face on paper was a growing addiction you couldn't ignore. Even your friends had noticed his lingering presence, proceeding to prod you with questions reflecting their curiosity. "He's from the vòlleyball team isn't he?" Yeji asked one time during lunch, upon noticing the way the said young man's stare lingered over the back of your head before turning away just as quickly, "do you know him?" "We've spoken once or twice." "How do you know him?" Your other friend, Saeron, nudged you with a wriggle of her brows. You brushed her teasing away, "we bumped into each other and then he saw my drawings." "Oh right, you do sketch athletes," Yeji leaned forward, mouth full of bread, "did you sketch him?" "I did, actually." "Oh awkward," Saeron giggled, "he's handsome though, can't deny that. You gotta introduce us sometime." You mumbled out an agreement even though you sat with them just for the sake of having people around. It wasn't that you didn't appreciate them. You did. But they seemed to speak a language you couldn't quite grasp. You would rather sit in your own silence, enjoy your own company if that made sense. Maybe that was why it was so surprising, that you allowed Sunwoo to linger as long as he wanted to. There was something authentic about the way he reacted to your words, an unguarded expression that made you comfortable enough to speak up without fear of judgment. Spending time with Sunwoo was listening to water trickle down the river. Smooth and free. Peaceful. But Sunwoo seldom knew of your high regards, was not aware of the tiny sketch of his figure in mid-spike that was hidden in the pocket of your school skirt so that you could take a peek whenever you felt out of place or nervous. It calmed you down to admire his composure, even if his expression was a mere mimic that could not replace reality. "Do you have any material in particular that you like to use?" Sunwoo asked one cloudy afternoon, breaking the silence while huddling a little closer to peek at your newest sketch of Lee Juyeon; a basketball star player known for his quick reflexes and adept playing style. Not only was his skill on par with that of a Nationals team, but his looks had garnered him quite a fanbase from the get-go. Sunwoo would've liked to say that he wasn't jealous of the way your thumb gently applied shade to Juyeon's lower lip. But the spike in the middle of his chest proved him otherwise. "I like charcoal the most, it's the easiest to work with," pausing to admire your work, your eyes glanced over at him, "do you draw?" He scoffed, "like a five year old." "Wanna try?" "No way. I'll ruin it. I'm okay with admiring it from afar." You hummed an unknown tune as you pulled back your sketchbook, "how is practice?" "Alright. Could be better. We won a practice match last week so we're kind of taking it easy." "That's good though isn't it?" Your gaze met his. His eyes were various gradients of warm maroon and you wished-- at this very moment -- to paint his features into memory. That was when you realized how close you were. You shuffled slightly back and didn't notice the frown Sunwoo threw you in response, "it is. And I'm happy we get to rest. The team deserves it." "You're pursuing it in College?" Your eyes tried not to linger too much over his lips, "volleyball, I mean." "Depends," he smiled, though it didn't reach his eyes, "if we make it to the Nationals." "You will." "Someone's confident," he chuckled. "Well I'm no pro but even I can tell you're talented, Sunwoo," you peeked at him from behind your fringe, glad that you could blame the cold for your red cheeks when just the intensity and closeness of his entity made you want to squirm, "so if there's anyone who can do it, it's you." It was impossible to keep eye contact after such a confession. You lowered your gaze, glad for your sketchbook that acted as a distraction. It was at that very moment that the paper tucked so neatly in your pocket slipped out, causing Sunwoo to quickly make a grab for it. You made a noise of protest before trying to snatch it back, but the boy only chuckled before unfolding the creased page so that there he was, depicted in all his glory. "Is that--" his voice was hoarse and you took this as your chance to steal it from his grasp, reddened cheeks burning and fingers shaking as you folded it back to its tiny square shape, "is that me?" "Y--yes." "You--you keep that with you?" "I--I do," you lifted your chin up defiantly, though you felt your limbs trembling. His eyes, they pierced your own, piecing together a coherence that caused your stomach to fill with butterflies. When he spoke next, his words were a mere murmur. "Why?" "I--I don't know," eyes darting towards the ground, you mumbled, "I just like watching you...play." A pause. Then, Sunwoo shifted a little bit closer. "You like watching me play? Or do you like," he cocked his head, "watching me?" If you were red before then you were probably the colour of a fire engine truck by now. Averting your eyes and turning your head away were instinctive responses due to the blood rushing through your face. "Stop flirting with me," came your mumble. Laughing softly in response, he scooted himself a little closer, so close that his shoulder brushed your back. He leaned over, head tilted to catch your expression. "Cute," his lips broke out in a crooked grin and you swore you felt your heart explode. Flustered, you shoved him away out of instinct but he wasn't having any of that. His hand grabbed your wrists and with a yelp, you were dragged even closer to his chest. "You like looking at me that much huh?" His tone was teasing while his eyes glimmered with playful mischief, "why is that,Y/N?" "You ask as if you don't know," you mumbled out through jumbled words and you were glad he actually understood you. But instead of laughing some more, his features softened into a smile instead as he proceeded to gaze down at you with an expression you couldn't quite place. It was in your normal behaviour to admire people. Not the other way around. And at this very moment, you felt way out of your comfort zone. "I don't know." Your orbs flew up to his in surprise and what you found in those coffee-coloured pupils made your breath stutter, heat coiling through your abdomen. "It...it calms me down," your whisper was barely louder than a breath but by the way Sunwoo's smile widens to reach his eyes, you could tell he heard you just fine. "I like watching you too," he replied. A strand of your hair caught in the wind and he raised his hand to curl it around the back of your ear, his touch ghosting with sparks wherever flesh bumped into flesh. You felt warm. He didn't pull away. Didn't bother hiding the slight dust of pink in his cheeks either, as he slowly allowed his palm to cradle the side of your face. Gently. As if he feared you might run away, recoil back. But you didn't. Even with your breaths going staccato, even if your heart felt like a wild animal. You calmed yourself down with the knowledge that he seemed just as nervous as you were and suddenly, out of a stroke of boldness, your hand went up to hold on to his, pressing it close to your cheek. His breath hitched. You shivered. The wind blew against your figures, a gentle reminder that the day was coming to an end. You weren't exactly sure what changed that day. There were no verbal agreements, nothing that suggested your relationship had changed. Yet, the subtle touches of his hand against your back, your shoulders, moving your hair from one shoulder to another, complemented by his gentle doe-eyed stare that made your toes curl, these changes were small, but significant. And you couldn't find it in your heart to say that you disliked it. What are we? The words lingered at the tip of your tongue, as bitter as the aftertaste of coffee as you stole small glances in his direction. You were sitting comfortably under a tree that overlooked the tennis court where Sunwoo had decided to join you. He'd fallen asleep halfway through your beginning sketch and was now leaning against the tree trunk, face relaxed and body leaned towards yours, close enough that you could admire his face. Countless hours you had spent tracing Sunwoo's features on paper. Countless times you had imagined tracing his lips with your thumb, wondered whether they were as soft as they looked. Maybe it was just curiosity or maybe you had let him walk into your heart so easily that you hadn't realized it yourself. But if there was one thing you could swear your heart upon it would be that you could no longer imagine every day without Sunwoo's presence at your side. As if on instinct, your fingers took a life of their own as they reached up to push a few strands away from his face. They gently carved a path down his cheek, landing at the corner of his jaw. Dangerously close to his open mouth. There was no denying it. Sunwoo was beautiful. Handsome. Had those features on par to that of a model's. You were so focused on edging your way to touch his lower lip that you didn't realize you had been staring, until you glanced up to see his brown orbs fixated on yours. You froze. Shit. "Like what you see?" He murmured. Then, before you could scramble back and probably run with your tail between your legs, his own hand grasped your own and he pushed himself off the trunk before his head angled towards yours, finding your lips. Soft. Sunwoo's lips were soft. You panicked. Not used to the closeness. The fire that sparked between your lids. But his other hand went to clasp your jaw, holding you close as he kissed your next protest away and unconsciously brushing his thumb against your cheek. Shivering in his touch, there was no running away from the way his mouth molded against yours so snugly, and you didn’t want to. You found yourself addicted to the sweet pressure of his upper lip meeting your lower ones and soon enough -- without realizing -- you melted into his touch. 

Sunwoo made a noise that sounded like a soft grunt, his other hand lacing around your waist to pull you closer so that you tumbled halfway into his lap. With embarrassment suddenly flooding through you, you let out a squeak that he answered with a chuckle of his own before distracting you once more with a series of kisses that left you gasping.

Your hands, initially balled into fists in your lap, went to rest against his chest and you didn’t realize that you were gripping onto his school shirt until you parted for air. Only were you aware of your compromising position, of the hard ridges of the young man’s thighs, of the firmness of his chest against your palms, of the way he seemed to be so much bigger than you even though he was a lean athlete, meant to be light and as speedy as the wind. 

Breaths coming out ragged, you tried to slow the beating of your heart. Though it seemed to be quite the challenge, given how lovingly, how intense, Sunwoo seemed to be in making love to your neck, nibbling on your pulse point and causing a soft whimper to fall from your lips. 

A whistle blew in the distance.

The soccer team. They’d be crawling up the hill any minute now.

“Sunwoo,” you breathed out, eyes hazy with mixed feelings of desire and embarrassment. You feebly tried pushing against his chest, to no avail. He merely groaned, head tilting upwards to catch your mouth into another kiss. 

“Sunwoo,” you groaned against his lips. But he held on for dear life, one hand clasping the back of your neck, tangled into your locks. The other around your waist, pressing you as close as he could possibly get you to be. 

“Just one more,” he mumbled in-between kisses, hooded eyes fluttering closed and head slanting to kiss you a little deeper, a little harder.

Your body was on fire. You weren’t used to this intimacy, nor all of the affection he was raining down upon you. 

But it felt good. It felt amazing. Eye-opening.

He finally relented after what seemed like an eternity and you quickly made a move to scramble out of his lap. Though he wasn’t having any of that, grip made of iron as he held on. You looked up to snap at him to let go before everyone saw but was faced with his pout instead, which was enough to bring down your defences. 

“Please,” his pout deepened and your heart practically vaulted through your chest. Cute. Cute. Cute. Stop. Burying his face into your neck, he whispered, “I just wanna hold you.” 

So he did. And thank god the team had decided to take a different route so that you would avoid their imploring, questioning gazes. Though Sunwoo admitted that he’d already known they would go up from the other side of the gymnasium, considering they did that every other week to train their stamina in the process. 

That earned him a light smack on the side of his head, making him whine, “What did I do to deserve this Y/N?” 

“You knew!” You wanted to throw him a glare, but it was impossible when you were busy fighting the grin spreading across your face. 

He grinned back at you, that crooked smile that always resulted in a burst of butterflies roaring through your abdomen. Just like now. 

“So, since you have a drawing of me that you keep staring at every day--” his words died into laughter when you tried smacking his arm, proceeding to cage your wrist with his hand before kissing your knuckles. You squirmed as he continued, “does that mean I can get a picture of you?”

You let out a noise of protest, “that depends,” you mumbled, unconsciously finding refuge in his neck.

Chuckling, Sunwoo grasped your chin lightly to pull you back so that his brown orbs gazed right into yours with a gentleness that had you weak at the knees, “on what?” 

“On what I get in return.” 

“What if I say I’ll take you on a date?” he said wickedly. 

You couldn’t help your smile. 

“I guess that could work.” 

[somerpmemes]

The Owl House Starters

Change as needed

“No! My only weakness! Dying!”

“That doesn’t count, right?”

“Do you have any friends? Real ones?”

“Tiny trash thief!”

“Oops, that happens sometimes.”

“I’m a squirmy little fella.”

“I like food, I like love, just let me write about it!”

“Oh, he gets so cute when he’s thirsty for power.”

“I’ve never actually broken any of your stupid laws… in front of you.”

“I hate everything you’re saying right now.”

“We’d be the strongest power couple ever.”

“Self-doubt is a prison you can never escape from.”

“Anyways, let’s bounce before any more monsters fall in love with me.”

“I am not your cutie pie!”

“No one wants an un-oiled snake.”

“Remember, never befriend a man in sandals and always measure twice, cut once.”

“Be back by nightfall or risk mortal peril!”

“I know I’ve had enough delight for one day.”

“Sorry to break it to you, ___, but no one here is that well-dressed.”

“This has been a rough day.”

“Big houses always belong to big whack jobs.”

“Today just got good.”

“Wizards are just old people with glitter in their pockets.”

“Anyways, your food is gone and we are too.”

“Never trust a man in casual drapery.”

“All that mean-spirited laughter made me sleepy.”

“I don’t like this. I really don’t like this.”

“All your food was so tiny and cute.”

“If you can think of a better plan I’d love to hear it.”

“Betrayed by my own cool accessories.”

“I didn’t have to be part of this!”

“I… don’t like this.”

“I think I’ll head home and look at pictures of animals that are still… alive.”

“Wow, you’re so unnoticeable I almost rolled into you.”

“It’s okay, the thorns only went through a few layers of skin.”

“Alright, into the darkness you go.”

“Oh my god, I haven’t eaten real food in so long please give me some.”

“You can’t just cut open a human, can you?”

“Keeping junk in my pocket saved my life!”

“Ahh, baby’s first wanted poster.”

“Even demons have inner demons.”

“This is my paying attention face.”

“Look, now we’re boo boo buddies.”

“It’s like a rainbow, but looking at it turns you inside out.”

“I respect your cunning but I also hate you for it.”

“Oh, gross. Can I keep that?”

“This is terrifying, so why do you look so happy?”

“Oh no, a twist!”

“I’m kind of over that nickname, but okay.”

“Oh, what lovely thing do we have here? It’s just so dang shiny, oh my.”

“And look, I drew flip book.”

“I will literally do anything to stop this.”

“If I’m seen, I could go to jail… again.”

“Alright, let’s see this mess.”

“That’s probably fine.”

“Time to prepare for bloodshed.”

“Welcome down to my level!”

“I know I should be repulsed but that look is fierce.”

“I’m gonna steal everything that’s not nailed down!”

“I was up all night poison tasting and, for some reason, I don’t feel great.”

“I need an extra pair of eyes looking out for pickpockets. And an extra pair of hands in case I want to pickpocket.”

“I got leaves in my pants. And I like it.”

“I was a strange child.”

“You think this can stop me? I can still bite your ankles.”

“If you’re gonna eat me, just do it now!”

“___, you’re getting all swoony again.”

“Rivals are meant to be annihilated, not befriended.”

“Witches eating babies is so 1693.”

“Ugh, you.”

“I thought we were as cool as cucumbers but we’re as sour as pickles.”

“Whoa, I almost passed out.”

“It’s been hours, how can it keep screaming!?”

“Say that again and I steal your tongue.”

“Keep going, this is fun to watch.”

“Isn’t that taking it a bit too far?”

“Just go away before things somehow get worse!”

“This never happened.”

“And who doesn’t like their name in lights?”

“That’s the incorrect reaction!”

“I smell an easy mark.”

“Well, I hate her.”

“It’s like demonic possession with the ones you love.”

“This is just like my favorite early 2000’s movie!”

“I’m so old… and pointy.”

“I’ve got some very confusing emotions right now.”

“My life’s not a joke! But yours is!”

“Novelty costumes are where I draw the line.”

“I am not above disrespecting my elders.”

“This vacation just took an alarming, back-alley turn.”

“Geez, I thought I’d like being babied. But I feel small and helpless, like some sort of baby.”

“Hey, take this, society!”

“I didn’t like her telling me what to do before, but now I love it!”

“Let’s go let out some teen angst!”

“This is how the cool kids ride. Super backwards, on purpose.”

“Your life is pretty terrible. But, hey, it’ll probably be over soon.”

“This is some of my best work, really captures the shame.”

“That’s sweet, kid. Now let’s never speak of this again.”

“Show, don’t tell, man.”

“Oh, look what you did. I’m gonna go rub it in.”

“That seems like a potential problem to me.”

“You being the razzle, I’ll bring the dazzle.”

“Do you always have confetti on you or—?”

“You’re just gonna be unhelpful, huh?”

“Okay, time to run for no particular reason!”

“Oof, I’ve had this nightmare before.”

“Like I’d actually apologize.”

“I want power, and I want drama.”

“Are you ready to give up?”

“I was afraid, I acted stupid.”

“I just wish you told me the truth.”

“You know, it didn’t taste as bad as I thought I would.”

“Impressive, still alive.”

“This is a throne worthy of a tyrant!”

“No, no, keep those sticky hands away.”

“No one wants to see that.”

“Since when are you into sports?”

“Gross, sympathy.”

“Don’t spend all night plotting revenge.”

“Oh, this is an interesting development.”

“I’ll take that weird grumble as a yes.”

“I’m feeling confident about this plan.”

“Trust must be earned.”

“If you run, you’ll just make it harder for yourself!”

“Your pride has destroyed you.”

“So tiny, so angry.”

“I don’t think I’ll ever be clean again.”

“If you ever want to search for the truth, I’ll help you.”

“Aww, that’s a horrible lie.”

“Partake of my free snack samples!”

“Why isn’t anyone paying attention to me?”

“A, eww. B, I’m bored. C, I feel like pickpocketing some dork while they browse.”

“I know my good angle.”

“Ugh, what are the basement dwellers doing out in natural sunlight?’

“Hey, there’s more to life than shipping.”

“___, I know you’re trying to help, but I think you’re crossing a line.”

“Ooh, I love punching.”

“You’re ominous, and I like it.”

“And of course you would be here just to be a nuisance.”

“I wanted to compare sunglasses.”

“Fame can really box you in, you know?”

“Besides, if anyone’s putting you down it’s gonna be me.”

“If it’s disappointing in any way I’ll spend the rest of my life trashing it.”

“He scammed us. Can you believe he scammed us?”

“Good entrance. But that outfit? Hah!”

“I’ve got a new crush and her name is education!”

“Ahh, fresh garbage.”

“I have never seen such an extravagant earring.”

“Wow, a surprisingly peaceful domestic moment. When will it be ruined?”

“Weaponizing my pride, well played.”

“Sorry, whoever’s over there!”

“Well, go on. Eat the snow.”

“Huh, it’s no fun if they don’t tremble.”

“Oh, okay, alright. Yup, an idea’s happening.”

“Shh! I don’t need your validation!”

“Get back here before that thing bites you!”

“No, we’re gonna die.”

“Cool. I didn’t actually think you could do it.”

“It’s not a secret.”

“Alright, your adorable banter is literally making me sick.”

“Believe it or not, I’ve seen worse.”

“Aww. I won’t be doing that, but thanks.”

“Quitting: it’s like trying, but easier.”

“You humans are filled with liquids, right?”

“I guess I have always liked pouring things into other things.”

“Time to scrounge through the trash.”

“I ain’t no desk jockey.”

“You don’t know diddly dang about squiddly squat!”

“I love secret rooms!”

“You have an aura of lies.”

“Also, you can eat trash.”

“Do the right thing, you dingus!”

“It just goes on like this for an hour.”

“Carnivals bring crowds and crowds bring suckers.”

“We’ve got scams to run.”

“I know poison when I see it.”

“You can’t scam a scammer.”

“You should really put a lock on your closet.”

“I love crimes!”

“Now this is my kind of weird.”

“That’s way safer than becoming blood brothers.”

“Beat up the man and steal his things for me.”

“This mama is ready for trauma.”

“All right. Approval!”

“Curse these stubby legs!”

“Sketchy carnival rides are not to blame this time.”

“___, you’re lucky I can’t be mad at your adorable antics.”

“Just when I thought I couldn’t respect the law any less…”

“Aww, what a supportive sign.”

“Yep, I just counted to one million.”

“Looks like we ruined his life for a second time.”

“I’ve always wanted to own a jagged piece of cheap metal.”

“Yes! Bread puns, bread puns forever!”

“Now I know what friendship tastes like.”

“I think today is a talons day.”

“It’s fun because it’s stupid.”

“I’ll admit, I was adorable.”

“Be careful with my brain.”

“Wouldn’t you rather talk about it?”

“That’s my motto after all, ‘Out of sight, out of mind.’”

“No schemes, no plots, no ruses. None.”

“I can’t believe I made him cry.”

“Are you solving a crime or about to commit one?”

“Sadly this is one problem crime can’t solve.”

“I’m supposed to choose someone interesting, accomplished, and noteworthy. People aren’t meant to be all those things!”

“Yup, her brain’s burned up real good.”

“Be still my fantasy-loving heart.”

“I’m pretty good at getting stuck inside people’s heads.”

“Hey, I found something magical.”

“I’ma put my face in it.”

“It’s like a little doghouse for angels.”

“If you’re handing out attention, I deserve it.”

“Eww, I mean, aww.”

“I really messed things up.”

“It’s eggs, it’s full of eggs.”

“No one turns down an interview with someone this pretty.”

“Me? Avoid? What? No. But let’s skip it.”

“There’s levels to me, kid. Levels I say!”

“Oh, right, I put people in there.”

“I’m gonna hug you so hard you’ll never forget me again!”

“I regret teaching you about the internet.”

“Ah, a severed hand. Perfect response.”

“Hmm, the demon at my shoulder makes a good point.”

“Always trust a shoulder demon.”

“The more I look at him, the more uncomfortable I get.”

“Man, you’ve got some quick grabbers.”

“I can’t wait to get overdressed, take awkward photos, push all the buttons!”

“We’re gonna turn this bloodbath into a fun bath.”

“Do you think I could pull off red eyeshadow?”

“Girl, you could pull off anything.”

“We’re style geniuses!”

“Ominous footsteps, creepy woods, this is no problem.”

“Dang, I look great.”

“___, you always go overboard and I end up bailing you out.”

“Now, what’s the fun in watching a kid get eaten by a monster if it’s my kid?”

“___, I don’t think you’re ready but we’re literally out of time.”

“Why so twitchy, witchy?”

“Teenagers are brutal. They’ll boo anyone and that kind of public humiliation will stick with you for life.”

“You look nice. Strange, but nice.”

“Honestly, I’m kind of amazed with how fearless you are.”

“You’ve done things I could never do.”

“Thing is, you’re sitting in my personal chitchat zone, which means you gotta talk.”

“I am a little weirdo.”

“You gotta pander.”

“Cheating a isn’t anything to brag about.”

“Well, can’t reason with crazy!”

“I’ve been talking for too long.”

“Feeling sentimental?”

“I love water.”

“I don’t know much about sports but I do know about sports movies.”

“What happens in the montage stays in the montage.”

“Not everything can be solved with a good attitude and a dope movie soundtrack.”

“Sorry, I just really love backstories.”

“You just destroyed your social life.”

“That’s such a stupid rule!”

“You’re not gonna show this to anyone, right?”

“I haven’t forgotten what you promised me.”

“Ahh, you’re a thorn in my side but you always dig your way into my heart.”

“Jeez, you’re morbid.”

“Ahh, it’s a fate much worse than death if you think about it.”

“Please don’t make me regret taking you here.”

“Love me a properly ventilated castle.”

“I spy with my little eye something coming this way!”

“I’m going away and I don’t know if I can come back this time.”

“And  ___, thank you, for being in my life.”

“I want her back as much as you do.”

“Don’t look at me like that, this is for your own good.”

“Ah farts, I got caught.”

“You understand, don’t you?”

“Please tell me that’s not as bad as it sounds.”

“To be great, you have to make sacrifices.”

“Ahh, ___, you chose the wrong side.”

“I like your spirit, but try that again and things won’t end well for you.”

“Go on, then. Go be a hero.”

“I may have lost but so have you.”

“I can teach you what I know, and what we don’t know we can learn together.”

[mellowshipsu]

Hellooo, could you ship me as well? ☺️ I’m an introverted afab girl. I’m really shy even though I seem kind of like an extrovert when you first meet me. I’m friendly and bubbly and if I’m really close to someone I like being childish with them and vice versa, I also like mothering my friends. I don’t do well with big crowds. I like drawing, reading, listening to history geeks ramble on about history and going for walks in places with as little people as possible. I also love it if I make someone laugh, although sometimes I tend to get a little too sarcastic. As a last thing, I’m the type of person who, after roasting a friend in friendly banter, I start apologizing without even giving them a chance to reply, my anxious mind can’t take the thought of possibly having hurt their feelings 😅. Thank you in advance for the match-up!!!

Oh shy maiden, you remind him of a princess from long ago.

The beautiful maiden was cursed in her sleep by a fae, or supposedly that's how the story goes.

You remind him a bit of himself also, caring for others.

He takes care of a prince and two little ones who act like brothers.

In large crowds that you hate he will always find ya.

He'll whisk you away in his arms, your match is---

Lilia!

(Image by: twisted-rubbish-bin)

He first noticed you eating alone in the cafeteria. Sebek mentioned that you were curious about their fae history and listened intently to Sebek. Oh? Who is better with fae history than this old man? Curious he teleported above you and noticed you were sketching a rather handsome man. He called out to you, surprising you of course before you noticed he was hovering behind you upside down. He mentioned he liked your drawing and asked who it was.

"Oh. Sebek told me about some fae history and he mentioned the Great Fairy Devil - Vanrouge."

Lilia's eyes widened and his heart began to beat faster. Oh! That was him! Of course he was more handsome than the drawing, but he thought you did a pretty good job! He offers to teach you more about fae history, after all who would know more than him? And afterwards your friendship bloomed.

He likes surprising you with gifts of more sketchbooks, pencils, paints, even the rarest mummy brown paint! When you want to walk around, he will accompany you. When he's mischievous he'll move side to side to confuse you, sometimes he'll steal a kiss on the cheek and then chuckle at your blushing face. Lilia enjoys having you to himself, but it's important for you to get along with his son Silver as well! But after he sees how motherly you are towards Silver, Sebek, even Master Malleus, his worries melts away. He's in love with you and maybe one day you two can marry? It's a foolish dream he admits. He's over 500 years old and you are a mortal but... You made him believe he was human and you made him experience his first love.

He at least wants to try. "♬♫♪I know you, I walked with you once upon a dream~!♪♫♬ A princess from long ago sang that song. Perfect for a wedding, don't you think?"

[paintalyx]

got a couple of extra headcanon asks on my zombie-mode art instagram from my irls. i'm rather happy with them, so i'll repost some here for the sake of archiving and an illusion of consistency. genshin impact round, here we go!

kaeya:

kaeya has dimples when he smiles. this is a hc that my brain came up with at like 4a.m. one night and i haven't been the same ever since. ugh.

self-proclaimed best emergency babysitter ever. he's only mildly better with younger kids (think klee's age) than teens. they think he's cool because of the whole pirate vibe he has going on and because he lets them do stuff other adults don't. he probably didn't get to goof off a lot as a kid, so he's just as excited to try out all the stupid and crazy ideas.

because his brother is diluc ragnvindr, who couldn't tell a lie if his life depended on it when he was a kid, kaeya honed the skill of crafting cover-up stories to perfection. my hc is that growing up, he was the more mature, responsible and cautious sibling, to contrast with diluc, who was kind of naive and reckless, prone to accidentally getting into trouble

he's never been on a proper date nor in a committed relationship (we relate to stan a king with commitment issues). rumours say that he's bedded at least half of mond and he's yet to disprove or confirm them. he tends to joke that it would be a crime to unfairly deprive people of *gestures* "all of this"

he and sister rosaria have a... very complicated relationship. on first glance, one would be forgiven to think that they are good friends. they drink together, talk about philosophy and conspiracies in-between ships of wine, and it seems like they have some sort of an unspoken understanding between them. and that's the thing! takes one to know another! they both have certain suspicions regarding each other, and as much as they find amusement in easy banter that goes on between them, both know that getting close would be nothing but danger

diluc:

jean and diluc had an unspoken *something* going on before diluc left the knights. was it just a crush? was it more? maybe less? they are on good terms even after crepus' death and they clearly still care about each other, but this *something* is always hanging above their heads when they interact

he has freckles!!! they were more obvious when he was a kid because he used to be out in the sun a lot, but you can still see some faint spots over his nose and cheeks (and arms, if he rolls up his sleeves while working)

though he's quick to deny it, he has a soft spot for venti after everything that happened with dvalin. he knows that the bard is sneaking into the winery to steal grapes, apples and wine, but every time he gets caught, diluc's threats sound more like an obligation. there is a lot of banter between, but it's clear that they enjoy each other's company. on rare, special nights, when either of them is feeling like it, they talk about the past.

going off from the previous hc, diluc knows a lot about mondstadt's history and culture. he probably had to learn about it when he was younger, but i like think that he's always been passionate about it. heck, he and jean were probably nerding out about it all the time when they were kids. when he became friends (???) with venti, he got to listen firsthand retellings of so many stories he read about and his love for them only grew

you know bennett, fischl and razor? benny's new (unofficial) adventure team?? well, yeah, they are diluc's emotional support children now because you can't be knockoff batman without knockoff batfam. fischl is his goth theatre daughter. razor is always free to crash at the winery if the weather is too bad for camping. diluc himself has no idea how's it come to this, but, frankly, he should've known what he was singing up for when he didn't correct bennett for slipping up and calling him "dad" the first time

bennett:

drawing your faves with freckles is good for the soul and i have no-self control. bennett is outside all the time, so they are kind of prominent. it adds to his charm!!! (though people keep mistaking him for being younger than he actually is, partially because of them)

he has good luck only in card and board games. but, like... ridiculously good luck. he is practically banned from playing ludo because he has all four figures out before some players can even roll their first six

he will inevitably start calling every older male that sticks around him "dad" sooner or later. he accidentally slips up in front of diluc once and that's so embarrassing, he wants to die— diluc is caught off guard and confused for a grand total of five seconds before he internally goes: "well. guess i'm a father now". almost everyone is surprised when it sticks

he's a surprisingly good writer! he never thought of it as something that he wanted to pursue, but venti's poem class was the kick he needed. early on, he's mostly writing poems and short stories on scrap pieces of paper when he's bored. it isn't until razor offhandedly tells fischl about the hobby and she insists that they need to get him a proper notebook that he starts taking it more seriously. maybe he'll write the next adventurer handbook one day?

he is the kind of guy who can get a crush on anyone who's remotely nice to him (someone tell this boy that standards are a thing). then he never does anything about it. ever. nope. taking it to the grave. he would be extra dense when it comes to romantic advances to boot, so who knows when he'll settle down?

(gotta love my irls. smooches for them. also here's venti headcanon batch in case anyone wants to see it)

[mister-supernova]

Trust In Me

Part 1 - Part 2 - Part 3 - Part 4 - Part 5

Pairing: Hope Mikaelson x Reader

“You’re joking. You’re telling me, ME,--your oh so dearest best friend in this universe--that you’re not going to help us play against the Timberwolves even though you’re a freaking tribrid? You have all the powerups you can get and you’re choosing not to use them! What kind of madness is that, Marshall?”

“Professor Saltzman doesn’t let any of you use your abilities anyways, so there’s no real point in me helping the team, is there?”

You feel your eyes roll so far back you're surprised they didn’t fall out, “Come on! Do you have any idea what kind of badass duo we’d be out there?”

“Nope and I don’t intend on finding-”

“We’d be unstoppable! Those asshat Timberwolves won’t know what hit them on that field! You have to play at least one game while you’re at school here! Please!”

Hope responds to your argument with silence and a look on her face that you clearly read as, I’m not playing no matter how much you beg.

You knew there wasn’t any way of getting through to her thick skin, so you accepted your defeat. “Okay, fine,” you huff, taking a seat right next to Hope at the edge of your bed, “You’re still going to cheer me on though, right? I mean, it’s the least you could do.”

She takes an agonizingly long time thinking of her answer while looking at the hopeful ‘puppy dog’ look in your eyes. The longer she took, the bigger you made your eyes which eventually broke Hope into giving you a heartwarming smile, “Yes, I’ll be silently cheering you on.”

You smile back, “That’s all I need, Marshall.”

The alarm tone from your phone jolts you awake from another one of your vivid dreams. After meeting Hope outside the Grill the other night, your dreams have become more realistic than ever before.

They’re almost beginning to feel too real. Maybe the clarification of you knowing Hope is real influenced your brain into putting her into more lifelike dream scenarios.

It didn’t surprise you that the topic of conversation in the dream was about the annual Stallions versus Timberwolves game since it’s happening today. Even though your team has been notorious for losing on purpose every single year, you still liked the not-so-friendly competition between the rival schools.

At this morning's assembly, you were happy to hear your new headmaster’s announcement about banning the ‘throw the game’ rule. Josie seemed to be the only teammate who was hesitant about the sudden change, but everyone else was ecstatic.

The thing that threw you off the most during the assembly was Vardamus assigning Landon as the quarterback. See, you loved the guy and he’s one of your good friends here at the school, but you know damn well that his athletic ability is as good as a decapitated zombie--on either half--and even that was saying much.

You weren’t just saying this to bash on your friend because he was proving your analysis of him correct on the field as the team was warming up. You and Josie were helplessly trying to help him catch the ball after a snap.

Thankfully she has more patience with Landon than you because at this rate it didn’t look like you guys were winning this game either.

“Sorry. Foster care didn’t have a football team.” Landon grumbles after having the ball bounce off his chest.

“At least you didn’t let it hit you in the face this time,” you shrug, earning a searing glare from Josie, “I’ll go warm up over here now.”

You quickly excused yourself and ended up jogging over to Lizzie who was sitting on the bench with a stack of books by her side. First, Landon is your quarterback for the day and now you see Lizzie reading right now instead of warming up.

“What’s going on here? I thought you’d be pissed at Vardamus for giving Landon your QB spot.”

“I’m on a different kind of mission today, Y/n,” she says as you watch her flip through a book of monsters and that gives you the information you needed to know what this was about.

Coincidentally enough, Lizzie also met a new and mysterious stranger the same day you met Hope. The two of you bonded for the past few days over your slightly similar situations which you felt was very weird but also kind of cool.

“There’s no way Sebastian is like us and I’m determined to figure out just what he is.”

“And you couldn’t do this--hm, I don’t know--after the game today?” You ask in urgency for her to play today, “I mean, seriously Lizzie, this could be huge for us.”

“What’s wrong with Landon being your QB?”

Your eyes widen in shock, “Are you kidding? Just look at him!”

The both of you direct your attention to Landon on the field as Josie hands him the football. You prepare yourself for disaster as he winds his arm back, but then you find yourself proven wrong as you watch the distance the ball was being thrown. It seemed to soar through the sky for what felt like hours before bouncing off of a window from the Timberwolves’ bus.

“Looks like he has the magic touch now,” Lizzie says knowingly before returning to her book while you continue to stare at the bus in shock.

Right before you decided it was the best time to look away, a familiar someone seems to catch your eye instead. Walking down the steps of your rival school’s bus was none other than Hope Marshall.

“No way,” you muttered to yourself, unsure if you should be happy to see her again or concerned that she’s on the team you’re playing against.

Absentmindedly, you slowly started drifting away from your spot by Lizzie and felt yourself being pulled in Hope’s direction. You had to get closer to clarify that she was who you were seeing and not some sick mirage you’ve created in your brain.

“L/n!” Dorian jumps in front of you, breaking your trance and blocking your path towards the opposing team, “Save any trash talk for the game. I don’t need you picking a fight with the other players before we even start.”

You had built yourself a reputation for these annual games and were known for getting kicked out due to foul plays off the field, “But Mr. Williams I was just-”

“That’s Coach Williams today, L/n. Back to your side. Go on!” He rushes you away and though you are strong enough to push past him, you’d rather play then be a benchwarmer for the rest of the day.

An annoyed growl rumbles in the back of your throat as you try to catch one more glimpse of Hope, but you were blocked by Dorian’s clipboard.

Josie can clearly see the longing anticipation in your eyes as you join your team’s side of the field. You looked like a lost kid in a mall looking for their parents, “Everything okay, Y/n?”

“Do you remember those drawings from my sketchbook this summer? The ones of that girl, but all you can really see are her eyes and hair?” You ask her in a hushed voice.

She nods, “Yeah, the one you said you’ve been seeing in your dreams.”

“Okay, well I met her the night of our first day back at school. She’s real and she’s here with the Timberwolves,” Josie furrows her eyebrows at you.

“So you met her before your dreams?”

“No. That’s the thing, I’ve never seen her in town before the other night and after all my dreams. I know for damn sure that I’d remember her being on our rival school’s football team given how many times I’ve tried kicking their asses every year.”

“Maybe she’s a new student this year? You very well could’ve seen her at the Grill this summer without even realizing it. Our brains only need to see a face once for them to show up in our dreams.”

“Josie, I swear on everything in my life that it’s-”

The referee’s whistle rings your ears as he calls for everyone’s attention, “Stallions! Timberwolves! Both teams meet in the middle for the coin toss!”

You and Josie sigh knowing that you’d have to put a pin in this conversation, “You ready?” She asks.

You nod, doing a few quick stretches since you didn’t get a lot of warm up time and to prepare yourself for seeing Hope again, “Yeah. Let’s do this.”

A wave of excitement filled your chest as you walked with Josie towards the middle of the field. The bashful smile on your face was hard to contain once your eyes landed back on Hope who you could clarify was very much real and very much here in front of you once more.

“Oh, wow,” Josie mutters with surprise from beside you.

“I told you I liked my chances, Marshall,” you smirk, gaining a small tight lipped smile from Hope in return.

“I guess today was your lucky day, then. Not for long, though,” she challenged, playfully squinting her eyes at you.

You lean your body slightly forward with a confident grin, “We’ll see about that.”

Your teammates share a confused look at the interaction they were witnessing between you two. “I see you’re... familiar with each other,” Hope’s teammate chimes in.

With a shrug you say, “We’re practically married. Isn’t that right, Marshall?”

Hope shakes her head at you, biting her lip to keep her mouth shut long enough for Vardamus to stand between your two teams and break your friendly banter.

With a little sprinkle of magic from Josie, your team won the coin toss with ease so the Stallions would be receiving the ball at the start.

“Okay, what was that?” Josie asks as the two of you walk back to your side of the field.

“What? Did you want me to call heads instead?”

“No! Not that. You and that girl.”

“I told you we met the other night,” you shrug, “and her name is Hope for your information.”

“That was not an interaction from two people who’ve only had one conversation, Y/n. Not to mention she really does look like the girl from your drawings. Are you sure you haven’t met before?”

“That’s what I was telling you and yes, I’m positive that I’ve never interacted with her prior to the other night. You think that if I hadn’t seen or met her at the Grill during the summer that we wouldn’t be best friends by now?”

“Well, you could’ve fooled me! I know you’re labeled as the social butterfly and all, but that must’ve been some long conversation if that’s how you’re acting around each other.”

You pause to think about it for a moment, “Actually it was only about ten minutes.”

“WHAT?!”

The conversation was cut short by the sound of the ref’s whistle signaling you all to line up for kickoff. You jog away to your position before Josie can interrogate you any longer and wait for the game to begin.

Stallions were able to use magic to their advantage and gain points within the first play which was something you never thought you’d see during your time here. As everyone repositions into defense, you notice that Hope is the quarterback for the Timberwolves.

“Okay, Y/n. I’m about to suggest something you may or may not like,” Josie says from next to you.

“Don’t worry, I got the QB,” you grin, gaining Hope’s attention. She notices the mischievous look in your eyes and almost looks as if she knows what you’re up to, making her a little nervous.

“Like it is, I guess,” Jo huffs.

Once the football reached Hope’s hands, you made a b-line towards her, quick to avoid any other players who were blocking your way. Careful not to crush her during the fall, you took Hope by the waist and spun the both of you to the ground.

Your tackle didn’t do much good given that she was still able to pass the ball. Whether it got to her teammate or not you weren’t too sure of at the moment because Hope’s body was literally tangled with yours.

With her one hand against your chest and the other keeping her propped up on the grass, Hope’s face was almost an inch away from you. Feeling her breathing heavily on your face, you oddly felt like you’ve been in this exact position before.

“Bet you enjoyed doing that, huh?” Hope speaks up, getting you to huff out a chuckle.

“Well it wasn’t the preferred way I wanted to take you out, per say, but a little bit, yeah,” you smile, getting her to laugh in return.

Being in this position with someone you’ve talked to so briefly should feel awkward, but for whatever reason it just felt right. If it weren’t for the fact that you were playing in a football match, you’d probably want to stay like this for a while longer.

Suddenly, Hope’s eyes widen as she quickly rolls off you and begins wincing in pain while grabbing at her ankle.

“Are you okay?” You ask while sitting up.

“Ah, I don’t know. I-I think it’s sprained,” she lightly groans, scrunching up her face.

“Shit, Marshall. I’m sorry. I didn’t realize that I-” you shake your head, pushing yourself to your feet before reaching out to help Hope up, “here, I can help take you to the nurse if you want.”

“It’s okay. I can find it,” she shakes her head and she takes note of the worried look in your eye knowing that you had hurt her, “Hey, seriously Y/n, it’s fine. I’ll be okay.” Hope squeezes your arm and gives you a reassuring look before limping off the field.

You watched as she walked away, furrowing your eyebrows in confusion. You were sure that you were careful while pulling her to the ground. Hope didn’t seem to be in any sort of pain for the first few seconds after tackling her.

“You know she faked her injury right?” Josie pops in out of nowhere, making your heart nearly burst out of your chest.

“Jesus, Jo,” you take a deep breath before taking in her inquisition, “And you think so?”

“Yeah and I don’t know why, but maybe you should keep an eye on her.”

“Why? Do you think she’ll steal some snacks from the kitchen?” You jokingly ask.

“Well, you started having dreams of her after Malivore was destroyed and now she seems to be oddly gravitated to this town and our school. I’m just saying that you should be a little more careful about trusting her so fast.”

Though you haven’t felt anything off-putting about Hope, Josie had an annoyingly excellent point. “I guess I’m on watch duty, then. Find a sub for me.”

It was shocking to see that Hope had gotten so far ahead of you that you weren’t even in running distance from her. Oddly fishy for someone who just sprained their ankle. Even as you walked into the school, there was no sign of her in the halls or the nurse’s office.

There was one thing that stuck out--a familiar scent that you had smelled in that vacant dorm room this summer. Only this time it was a lot stronger than when you first caught it.

Out of curiosity, you followed the smell just to see if it would lead you anywhere. Crazily enough, it didn’t take you to the vacant room like you thought it would, but to Landon and Raf’s dorm room instead.

Your eyes widen to the size of saucers when you see Hope sitting cross-legged in front of a map that she was currently dripping her own blood onto.

“Hope?”

She quickly turns around and stands, startled by the sound of your voice, “Y/n! Uh, I um, this isn’t what it--”

“Isn’t what it looks like? Right. Well, it looks like you faked an injury to sneak into the school. It looks like you forgot to mention you were a witch the other night. It also looks like you’re doing a locator spell in my missing friend’s room.”

Hope remains silent for a couple of seconds, almost taken back by the passive way you were speaking to her, “Okay, maybe it’s exactly what it looks like.”

You huff out a sigh in disbelief, letting Josie’s suspicions about Hope sink into your head now.

“I’m not here to hurt you or anyone else here, Y/n. I promise, I’m trying to help. Dr. Saltzman asked me to do a locator spell on Rafael so that I can help him return to his human form.”

You give her a questioning look, “We’ve been looking for a way to turn him back for months now. What makes you think you can?”

“Because I know more about the Crescent Wolf Clan than anyone else here.”

You raise a brow, “That wolf pack in New Orleans? If you know so much about it, wouldn’t that make you a…” then the realization sets in.

Hope sees that you’re still skeptical, “Look, I can’t explain everything right now, but I really need you to trust me, Y/n.”

Most of the context clues told you that trusting someone you’ve only known for less than a day was a terrible, terrible idea, but your heart wouldn’t let you believe that.

As much as you shouldn’t, you trusted Hope more than anything.

You exhale, “Okay, Marshall. I’m trusting you. Is there anything you need me to do?”

Hope gives you a grateful smile, “Keep an eye on Landon. There’s a werewolf-eating monster out in the woods and I have no idea if it will be after him, too,” she says, walking past you and into the hallway.

Again, you’re confused with even more new information, “Wait, there’s a what in the woods? And how do you know the monster would be after Landon?” Hope ignores your questions, continuing to speed walk in front of you, “Marshall!”

A lot of events took place within the next couple of hours. You did as Hope asked and watched Landon back at the game which seemed pretty boring at first.

Josie took you by surprise as you witnessed her break another player’s arm with a spell mid-play, but to be fair it didn’t look like she realized what she was doing until the damage was done.

If that wasn't physically violent enough, there was a huge mosh fight between both schools after the game was over. You tried getting out of the crossfire because the last thing you needed was detention for being involved in something you didn’t mean to be a part of.

That didn’t go as planned seeing as one of the Timberwolves was able to punch a mean hook on your right cheek before you could scramble out of there. Most of the redness faded by the end of the night, but it was still a little sore whenever you poked at it.

Hope was able to return Raf back to his human form just like she said she would. He explained how this “mysterious girl” saved his life then you and your friends gave him a warm welcome back to humanity.

After cleaning yourself up, you snuck out of the school’s building to find Hope sitting out at one of the piers where she told you to meet her before parting ways earlier.

You could tell she had cleaned up as well judging by the change of clothes and seeing that her hair was no longer tied up in braids, but now flowing down over her shoulders.

“Well, today was eventful, huh?” You speak up, groaning as you take a seat next to her.

“Oh, my God. Y/n, your face!” Hope exclaims.

“You know you can just call me ugly, Marshall. There’s no need for you to act all aghast about it.” You tease.

“No, I mean the gash on your cheek.” She reaches for your face to observe your wound more clearly.

You let her lightly trace along the edge of the bump, almost unfazed by the contact, “Oh right, that.”

“What kind of altercation did you get yourself into?”

You scoff, looking more hurt by the question rather than the punch to your face, “Bold of you to assume it was me who initiated the altercation, Marshall.”

“Well, you just seem like the type is all.” She looks at you with a teasing look in her eyes.

“What a kind and accurate assumption you have of me there, but for the record I wasn’t the one who started the fight. Everyone just started going at each other after the game and I got caught in the crossfire.”

There’s a very noticeable shift in Hope’s mood and you can tell that she was genuinely worried about you getting hurt. All she could think about was the last time you were caught in the crossfire and how it nearly cost you your life. You didn’t know that, of course, but you felt the need to reassure her.

“You’re cute when you’re worried, Marshall, but I’m fine. I promise, a punch to the face is like a slap on the wrist. You should know the healing process is quite fast for a werewolf.” You give her a knowing look.

Hope’s eyes widen in realization, making her finally pull her hand away from your face. “You caught onto that, huh?”

“I figured it out once you mentioned the Crescent Wolves. Raf only confirmed it when he explained how this mysterious werewitch saved his life,” Hope looks down at her lap looking like a kid who got caught in a lie, “Thank you, by the way. For bringing my friend back.”

She meets your gaze again, giving you a tight lipped smile, “You’re welcome.”

“You know it’s too bad you didn’t have me helping you out there. Given that we’ve got a pretty good thing going on here, we could’ve made a badass team.”

“You got punched in the face by a human. How do you think you would’ve stood against a monster that actively wanted to kill you?”

“That’s the whole point of being a team. One runs around failing miserably while the other pulls the weight.”

Hope scrunches her eyebrows together, “That’s literally not what being a team is supposed to be like at all.”

“Seriously?” You ask cluelessly, “Damn, well I guess I’ve been doing it wrong all this time.”

She laughs and for the first time you notice the way her eyes squint together when she really lets herself smile. It sparked a feeling in you that you hadn’t felt before.

“You’re just full of surprises today, aren’t you, Marshall?” You speak up in a playful tone, lightly bumping her shoulder, “Has our 24-hour friendship meant nothing to you? I mean, seriously, how could you not tell me you were a hybrid?”

Hope gives you an appalled scoff, “You didn’t tell me you were a werewolf. Looks like we both hid something from each other last night.”

You stare at her for a second, squinting your eyes as you analyze her, “Hmm. Touche, Marshall.”

She lets out another laugh and this time you swear you can feel your heart begin to grow.

Gosh, she’s really beautiful.

You wished you could say the words aloud. Part of you was surprised that you couldn’t given how bold you’ve been with Hope regardless of the little amount of time you’ve known her.

As much as you wanted to make some sort of move now, you felt you had to draw the line somewhere.

“Y/n, you’re staring.” Hope tells you in a voice that was just above a whisper.

You blink yourself back to reality, “Sorry,” you say with your voice just as hushed, “It’s just that… I think…” For the first time in your life you have no idea what to say. No witty comment or dumb remark.

You searched her deep blue eyes for an answer you couldn’t find. If anything you felt even more lost the longer you looked into them.

I really want to kiss you right now. Your mouth was open, but no words were willing to come out.

For a second you swore you saw Hope begin to lean forward, but the moment ended rather abruptly thanks to your cell phone ringer.

“Jesus,” you flinch yourself back into reality once again before picking up the phone, “Hello?”

“Y/n, where the hell are you? Vardamus has done a room check twice now and says you haven’t been answering your door.” Lizzie frantically asks you.

“I’ll be there in a second. Just cover for me if he’s still lurking in the halls and tell him I’m knocked out from today’s game.”

“Fine, just hurry your ass up!” She whisper-shouts before hanging up.

You let out a deep and exaggerated sigh, “Well, fun’s over, Marshall,” you grin sadly, “It’s pumpkin time.”

She returns a soft smile back at you, “I guess this is goodbye.”

“I’ll only say goodbye if it means we’re gonna say hello again,” you tell her as you rise to your feet.

“Well, then let's not say goodbye,” she says while you help her up, “Maybe if we just say goodnight instead, that's gotta mean we'll see each other again.”

You look down at her with a smirk, “That's all I need, Marshall.”

Hope rolls her eyes with a smile she couldn't contain. Just when you thought she’d walk away, she takes you by surprise as she presses a small kiss on your wounded cheek, “Goodnight, Y/n.”

You bite the sides of your cheeks to keep your smirk from turning into the goofiest looking smile you could possibly imagine, “Goodnight, Hope,” you say, finally turning back to make your way towards the school.

At this point, you couldn’t tell if the heat in your face was from the kiss or the punch.

~

taglist: @chicken-wang09 @trikruismybitch @sodangtired @idek-5

heyooo i know it's been a minute, but i hope you enjoyed this slightly longer chapter... again, i can't say how long it'll be until part 7 but i'll get to working on it as soon as possible! thanks for all your love and support for this series everyone, it really means a lot to me <3

[forzalando]

The Perfect Arrangement | George Weasley | Pt. 1

Pairing: George Weasley x F!Reader AU: Bridgerton!AU Word Count: 2.1k Warnings: Bridgerton spoilers, mentions of alcohol

Summary: As a woman in the early 19th century, you’ve been told all your life that marriage should be your ultimate goal, however, you do not share that sentiment. When the insufferable George Weasley devises a plan that may solve your problems, how can you say no?

A/N: hi friends! this will be a multipart (probably 3-4 parts) George fic inspired by Bridgerton. i’m so excited for it and i hope you all are too :) thank you for reading!

The start of the social season had been, as you had expected, the topic of conversation around the ton for the past few weeks. It was impossible to go anywhere without hearing whispers of who would snag an engagement in the next few months.

Particularly, people had been interested in who the Queen would declare the “diamond of the season”. Your mother was positively convinced it would be you, but you had other plans in mind for your life other than parties and dresses and loveless marriage. However, when the Queen took one look upon your face, she quickly declared you incomparable, as she had done the same for Daphne Bridgerton, now the Duchess, a few years prior, and your fate was sealed.

As a member of the distinguished and esteemed Y/L/N family, and as the eldest daughter, you had a trivial, yet necessary and important role to play, even if you longed to free yourself from it. Your mother and father, as wonderful as they might be, had high expectations for you, and you would not and could not let them down.

Your mother fluffed your hair and primped your dress in preparation of the Danbury Ball, admiring you fondly and gushing about how beautiful you looked.

“Maybe your luck will be as wonderful as the Duchess, her love match was indeed unprecedented but oh so joyous. Do you think your fortune might align with hers, dear?”

“Mama,” you sighed. “I have no interest in a life like the Duchess’s. All the parties, teas, and properness. Besides, there isn’t another Duke for me to marry.”

“I did not mean that you would have to marry a Duke to share her fate; only that you may marry for love.”

You huffed as you turned away from the mirror. In truth, you had no interest in marrying for love, or marrying at all for that matter, but the duty of an eldest daughter was set in stone.

All too soon, you arrived at the Lady Danbury’s spectacular first ball of the season; the sea of gowns and tailored coats causing a queasy feeling to settle in your stomach, and you wished with all your might that anything at all would ruin the festivities.

A glass of champagne was placed in your grasp and you let your eyes wander around the room; Lady Eloise Bridgerton, a close friend of yours, donned a similar look on her face though her mother enthusiastically tried to get her to waltz across the dance floor.

Glancing to your left, you noticed Lord Farley, a rather grotesque older man, eyeing you up and down; his beady eyes causing the queasy feeling to return and for your feet to take off in what could almost be considered a sprint.

When he was no longer in your line of sight, you began to slow down your gait, but a shoulder roughly bumped into yours and an unattractive yelp escaped your lips.

The unmistakable chuckle that followed your outburst made you groan due to your detestation of the man you knew you had bumped into.

Lord George Weasley; a man, nay, a boy, with hair of fire and a wit to match. You had known him for years as you were the same age and his sister Ginevra was the best of friends with your younger sister.

“I want to believe, Miss Y/L/N, that you would not take such drastic measures to capture my attention, but I must say I am flattered nonetheless,” George teased, his hand reaching out to steady you as you recovered from the collision.

“Mr. Weasley, I believe you to know me better than that,” you spoke with gritted teeth as you swatted his hand away. “Besides, there are plenty of young women here that would kiss the ground you walk on. Might you bother them instead?”

“Ah, but where is the fun in that? I’ve noticed that you still have room on your dance card?”

“I always have room left on my dance card.”

You tried to step around George and escape his company, but his impossible height made it so easy for him to evade your attempts.

“Is that by choice or because you’re just so pleasant to spend time with?” he inquired with a smirk.

“Suppose a bit of both. Now, if you would be so kind, I’m quite parched and would love another glass of champagne.”

“Perfect, I shall accompany you.”

George Weasley, you surmised very early on, was nothing but a flirt. You wouldn’t go so far as to call him a rake, because as far as you knew he was an honorable man, but he was also most intolerable with his boyish charm, sense of humor, beautiful eyes…

Yes, you were quite sure that he was entirely intolerable.

“Have you told your mother you have no interest in procuring a husband, yet?” he mused, breaking you out of your trance as he carefully handed you a glass of champagne.

“Don’t call it procuring as if it’s a transaction. And no, I haven’t. Do you think I’d be standing here alive if I had?”

“Good point,” George hummed as his eyes surveyed the room, no doubt searching for the next woman so unlucky enough to be graced with his presence.

“How is your family?” you asked as you sipped on your flute of bubbling liquid.

“They’re doing well, thank you for asking. Work has been a bit hard on Dad but – ”

Before George could finish, a man approached you and bowed; taking the hand not holding the champagne flute and pressing a kiss to your knuckles.

“Miss Y/L/N, would you like to join me for a dance?”

You noticed George looking on angrily at the sight before him, probably because his ego couldn’t take the interruption.

“I’m flattered, Lord Rainier? I believe?” When you received no objections, you continued. “As I was saying, I’m flattered by your offer but I simply must decline. I am feeling a bit ill and all that spinning might make me sick.”

“Yes, yes, of course, Miss Y/L/N. Perhaps another time?”

You gave him a small, soft smile and let out a sigh of relief when he walked away. Turning back to George, you urged him to continue. While you held him in contempt, or so you told yourself, you did enjoy his family as they were all simply lovely.

“You were saying, George?”

“Right, work has been a bit hard on Dad, after his accident a few months ago. He’s been doing better but Charlie had to take a break from his travels to come home and help out since he’s the eldest. Fred and Angelina are expecting again, if you haven’t heard. They’re hoping for a girl this time.”

“Maybe if you were more like your brother you’d be married and having children by now,” you teased.

He gasped and clutched his hand over his heart, drawing the attention of anyone near.

“You wound me, Y/N.”

Much to your dismay, you laughed at his actions, devastated that you gave him the satisfaction of knowing he was entertaining you. However, the moment was short lived as another man interrupted your conversation.

“Miss Y/N, I must say you are looking exquisite this evening. It would be a shame for your dress not to take a twirl on the dance floor. Might I accompany you?”

You tried not to groan when you noticed a line forming behind the man currently asking for a dance.

“Actually, Lord Beverly, I’m feeling a bit warm. I was just about to go outside for some fresh air.”

“I shall accompany you, then.”

“Without a chaperone? Goodness, no, please find another young lady to dance with. There are certainly many that would be delighted at the chance.”

You looked around Lord Beverly to see at least four other men waiting for their chance to ask you for a dance, and the thought of making up more excuses made your head spin. You graciously bid Lord Beverly a good evening, and turned on your heel towards the nearest exit.

In your haste, you did not notice George following you into the gardens.

“Well, you sure like to let them down easy,” he joked.

“George!” you cried. “We can’t be seen alone, are you daft? Trying to ruin me and my family?”

“Calm yourself, my Mother is just right there.”

You looked a bit to George’s left and saw his wonderful mother keeping a careful eye on the two of you, graciously leaving the attention of her husband to ensure that none would suspect foolery between you and George.

“As I was saying, it’s awfully obvious that you do not want any man to court you. Your mother will realize well and soon enough of your…aversion to marriage.”

“The only reason you know that is because you eavesdropped on a conversation I had with Eloise. But yes, I have no desire to marry, and I’m quite certain I never will. I’ll have to fight off suitors and think of a million excuses until I’m considered a spinster and men no longer want me.”

Silence enveloped you both as a tear slid down your cheek. You hastily wiped it away, hoping that George hadn’t seen, but of course, you were not so lucky.

“Is the idea of marriage really that upsetting to you, Y/N?”

“All those men, all they want is a woman to wear on their arm and to give them children. That’s what a woman’s life is in marriage. A husband doesn’t care about his wife’s passions, desires, intellect, among other things, and I can’t bring myself to entertain the idea of a life that has no room for my happiness.”

George was quiet; pondering your response and your feelings, when he was suddenly struck with the most brilliant of ideas.

You see, Mr. George Weasley was in love with Miss Y/N Y/L/N, has been for several years in fact. He couldn’t tell you exactly when or why, but he knew that the fluttering in his chest and the way his whole world became brighter when she entered a room meant that Y/N was more than just someone to engage in friendly banter with.

“I’ve thought of an idea,” George muttered, piquing your interest.

“Whatever might it be, Mr. Weasley?”

“Your…situation, can only go away if men were to believe you were taken, correct?”

“Yes, I suppose, only I can’t fool them into thinking that. It would become quite suspicious when I’m seen alone everywhere. And, there’s no way I could ever fool my parents.”

“Except you wouldn’t be alone, you’d have me!”

“I don’t believe I’m following your idea, George.”

“Marry me.”

You choked and sputtered on your own spit, unable to take a breath through your coughs and gasps. George’s hands flew to your shoulders to steady you, helping you to breathe easier and calm yourself down.

“George, you must be joking,” you said quietly.

“I am as deadly serious as I could ever be. Not a real marriage, of course. Real in every sense of the word in terms of legality, but not real as in, well, us together. I’ll spend this social season courting you, and at the end of the season I’ll propose. We’ll get married in a few months’ time, and then we can travel the world, doing whatever our hearts desire.”

“Why on earth would you want to marry me?”

“It’s quite simple. You need to get the eligible bachelors of the ton to leave you alone and you never want to marry because your husband would restrict your freedoms. I, as your husband, wouldn’t dare. You’re not entirely awful, I suppose there are far worse people to spend my life with, even if you utterly despise me, and marriage, real marriage, isn’t something I want either.”

You looked at him quizzically, searching for signs that he’d had far too much champagne or had gone completely mad in the head, but he looked right as rain, and your mind was spinning.

“I find it hard to believe you do not want to marry, after all the times you’ve said you cannot wait to marry the woman you love.”

“Honestly, the woman I love is….unattainable, I’ll put it that way. I won’t ever love anyone but her. I’m also waiting for an answer, it’s not every day you have to have a discussion after a proposal.”

“You’re sure this will work, Mr. Weasley?”

“How hard can it be to pretend to be in love with a woman as beautiful as you?”

“I always knew you were a flirt, but God, do you lay it on thick.”

George looked at you expectantly, almost a glimmer of hope is his eye, but as quickly as you thought you’d noticed it, he looked away.

“My answer is yes, George. Let’s fool the ton, our families, court, get married, and then travel the world platonically.”

“That sounds like the perfect arrangement, darling.”

@theweasleyslut @vivacesole @weasleyclaw @nuttytani-reblogs @theweasleysredhair @hufflepuffbaby9 @theboywhocriedlupin @swellwriting @fortisfiliae @thoseofgreatambition @woakiees @wildfire-whizbangs @gcdric

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[carebearbliss]

Seventeen’s ideal type

A/N: This is just my personal estimation of what kind of person I think would be complementary to them. I tried to neutralize it by explicitly not referring to a him or her, which is why I used them/they instead. Hope y’all have a nice day! :]

S.Coups 

Someone that knows how to take care of themselves well, whether it be something practical like cooking or taking a day off to focus on your mental wellbeing

I think someone who is comfortable in their own skin and confident would compliment Seungcheol well

Has to be supportive of his ambitions! With his busy schedule he’d really appreciate someone who understands what he’s doing it for and it’d mean the world if his future S/O could stand by that fully

Would love someone who can match his energy and return his enthusiasm, someone to bounce off of so to speak

Doesn’t necessarily have to be an extrovert, though he would definitely appreciate someone who’s willing to initiate things in the relationship, like dates, conversations, calls etc.

Someone who’s warm and affectionate, he’d want to feel loved and appreciated (hugs and compliments!!!)

Let’s him take care of them once in a while and doesn’t mind how protective he can be at times

A person who knows how to enjoy their life and live in the now would be perfect for him! Seungcheol has said before he likes someone who can eat well ;]

Jeonghan

Someone who hypes him up (lowkey shamelessly)

Especially by promoting Seventeen’s music to everyone they know

A person who’s unapologetically themselves (kinda like Jeonghan when he’s caught cheating for the 99th time) and owns it like a boss

He’d prefer his future S/O to be someone who’s more on the feminine side, maybe also someone who is naturally cute

Someone who is sensible and attentive toward their environment, a person who knows how to adapt to different situations depending on what is suitable/needed -- kind of a go with the flow type of person

A person who’s able to think for themselves, someone who’s not afraid of going against the mainstream opinion / someone who’s not swayed by others opinions easily

I’d definitely see Jeonghan with someone who’s more on the chill side, someone he can hang out with at home and order take-out with

Someone who can give him space when he needs it (instead of someone with a controlling character)

I think Jeonghan would also like someone who knows how to dress well, like someone who knows what suits them best and is interested in fashion

Joshua

Somebody who is as well-mannered and polite as him!!!

Has to have a kind heart, so not just someone who shows kindness but really someone who’s just kind through and through (y’know what I mean??)

Joshua would love someone who is quite open-minded and accepting

Someone who respects others opinions and treats people like equals

Would really want to be able to understand and connect well with the other person (and the other way around!),

Someone who’s non-judgmental and a good listener

A person he can have all kinds of conversations with (even about kind of weird/random topics)

Would definitely appreciate someone with a quirky side/personality to them, he’d find it intriguing (and honestly, Joshua can be a bit quirky at times too hehe)

I think he’d also like someone who’s down-to-earth and humble, like someone who’s just drama-free

Someone trustworthy and reliable, someone who is mature and knows better than to talk behind people’s backs or share secrets that weren’t theirs to share

Jun

If you can return his flirtatious remarks with playful banter I guarantee you this guy is gonna fall head over heels for you 

A person who matches him in terms of playfulness

Jun would like someone who can keep him on his toes and surprise him

Someone who is more on the spontaneous side / someone who has a multifaceted personality

He’d appreciate someone he could be weird and childish with together, like a person that he can do all kinds of fun stuff with

Would definitely be attracted to someone who can be both cute as well as sexy, someone who knows how to dress well would also catch his attention

A person he can dote on (and a person that dotes on him in return)!!!

I think Jun has a highkey weak spot for someone who is kinda 4D, a person that is more than what they appear to be (i.e. someone who is actually really quirky and humorous despite looking very innocent and quiet, y’know what I mean??)

Someone who is a bit on the mature side, who knows when to be serious and is also capable of taking care of others around her when needed

Hoshi

I think Hoshi would also find it important to be with someone who can match his enthusiasm, this doesn’t mean that you gotta be as hyped or enthusiastic as he can be sometimes, but more so that he’d need to feel actively stimulated (in short, someone who meets him halfway)

Bonus points if you’re naturally optimistic and bubbly!

Would really appreciate someone who is easygoing and fun to be around, someone who really enjoys what they are doing

Someone he can be comfortable around, even if neither of you say anything

A person who is openly supportive and affectionate toward him, and not afraid to initiate dates or surprise him every once in a while

I’d say Hoshi is also the type of guy who would feel attracted to someone that gets along well with his friends and family

Someone who’s a bit more on the cute side in terms of personality (and looks, for that matter)

A people’s person, someone that’s more extroverted than introverted / someone who’s comfortable and feels energized being around people, also someone who’s rather charming and eloquent/persuasive!

Wonwoo

Wonwoo’s ideal type would lowkey be the female lead of a historic kdrama ngl

Definitely someone who is elegant/graceful! A person that’s gentle and takes good care of her friends/family but also her possessions

Someone who comes off a bit more mature (no matter their age)

I think he’d suit a person who shares the same kinds of interests, someone he can talk with about what you thought of that book you both read and stuff like that

Wonwoo would definitely value someone who is intelligent, a (deep) thinker of some sorts with whom he can have meaningful conversations with

Someone who is quite self-sufficient and not dependent on others, a person who is reliable and trustworthy

Maybe also someone who gives off lowkey mom-friend vibes

A person that appreciates the little things and cherishes those little moments they can have with him

I don’t think he’d mind if the person were introverted, I actually think he’d appreciate someone who’s more on the quiet/reserved side

Now that I mentioned that, somebody who doesn’t mind comfortable silences!

A person he can be alone with together (like studying or reading together)

Woozi

Someone who balances him out, in other words: someone who accepts his calmness and seriousness

A person who’s more talkative and social than he is would match him well, someone that’s kind and friendly

Someone who understands him (his behavior, decisions, etc.) well!

Mutual respect toward each other’s careers and ambitions!!! Someone he can look up to and admire for who they are and what they do

Someone he can learn from during the relationship

Definitely someone that makes people feel at ease, someone who gives off warm/welcoming vibes

A person that makes him want to talk more

Someone that’s non-judgmental, but rather open-minded

I think trust would be very important to him, to be able to trust his future S/O, but also to have someone fully trust him as well

Someone who’s not afraid of confrontation (doesn’t mean that they’re overly assertive or aggressive!), a good communicator and listener!

Perhaps also someone who gets him out of his comfort zone from time to time

Someone thoughtful and considerate toward the people around them!

DK

Someone kind and friendly, someone without any facades whatsoever (lowkey ‘what you see is what you get’)

Definitely someone who is very energetic as well, or a person who gets excited very easily

Dokyeom would probably value someone who is (almost) always in high spirits

I think he’d definitely like someone who is really good at what they’re doing, whether it be singing, drawing or teaching, he’d definitely admire your talents a lot

Lowkey cannot resist someone with an infectious laugh and/or eyesmile

Speaking of which, someone who laughs a lot!!! Somebody who easily breaks into smiles & laughter would be perfect for DK ngl

A person who is not afraid to be goofy and crack up jokes (even if 5/10 doesn’t land well)

Would very much like it if their future S/O is somewhat of a moodmaker, someone who livens up the mood with their lightheartedness or humor

Someone truthful, just a person who doesn’t lie and would rather speak the truth

Mingyu

Someone who, regardless of their age, gives off noona vibes in how dependable and caring they are towards their friends/family

A person that’s rather confident would match him well, just someone that knows what they are worth and what they deserve (would definitely be a turn on ngl) 

Definitely a person that’s chill, no drama whatsoever, just someone who easily adapts to different environments and gets along well with various kinds of people

Mingyu would definitely appreciate someone who makes the effort to get to know him better, past all the superficialties and small talk

Someone he can let down his guard with, someone he can come to when he’s in need of an energizer or a shoulder to lean on

Lowkey would melt for someone who’s a good hugger and/or a really good friend to their friends

I think he’d be interested in someone who knows what they’re talking about, someone who’s got a bit of life experience / wisdom

A person that sends him little reminders from time to time, like that he shouldn’t forget to take some time for himself, or to eat well and stuff

The8

I think Minghao would really be impressed by someone who has an eye for fashion, someone who really understands fashion trends and the like

Someone that respects his needs and decisions, someone who sees him as their equal

Especially someone that fully stands beside whatever decisions he makes, a person that’s always there for him in the end

Somebody that’s sincere! Just a person that’s kind-natured (i.e. not someone who would gossip behind people’s backs)

A person that is always ready to help people out, like a person that regularly does volunteer work or donates to good causes often

Someone honest, that goes for all the members of course but I think Minghao in particular would really hate it when people lie

A person that owns up to their shit and takes responsibility when they make mistakes 

The8 would definitely suit someone who is naturally cute, aegyo just comes naturally to them

Overall, someone that has their back and is kind toward (almost) everyone would be his ideal type

Seungkwan

Someone that appreciates his humor and who he is as a person, especially how lively he is

I think Seungkwan is a person that needs a lot of nurturing and appreciation in his love life, with that I mean: someone who is affectionate and someone who compliments them a lot!

Basically, someone who hypes him up would be perfect for him ngl

Someone that’s proud to have him as their boyfriend!!!

A person that’s nice company, just someone he knows he can count on for whatever it is he needs to talk about in particular 

Definitely someone who’s like a best friend to him!

Someone compassionate and empathetic, someone that understands his sensitivity and what is meaningful to him (and respects that)

Seungkwan would probably feel attracted toward someone that tends to take care of others around them

Also, someone who’d get along well with the people in his life, especially his family!

Vernon

Someone that gives off lowkey homegirl vibes, someone who’s laidback and goes with the flow

Someone he can frequently hang out with, whether that’s playing video games or just chilling at home and watching movies

A person with good taste, he’d really like someone who has a nice music taste for that matter

Wouldn’t mind someone who is a bit different / who fully embraces their quirkiness!

I think Vernon would also like someone that’s genuinely interested in him, in his opinions and views for instance

Someone forgiving and understanding of others, not someone who tends to keep things inside all the time

A person that lives in the now, really someone that doesn’t worry much about past, present nor future, but rather lives in the now

Someone he can share his random thoughts with and who reciprocates the randomness in turn

Definitely someone that just rocks their differences, someone who’s unapologetically themselves

Dino

Someone confident, who knows what they are doing would most probably attract Dino

A person who tends to be cute, someone who has a lot of aegyo and isn’t afraid to show it every once in a while

Someone who’s more on the talkative and bubbly side perhaps

Someone that lets him take care of them once in a while

Chan would suit a person that shares a similar mindset, like someone who values the same things in (approaching) life

Someone that’s good at their job! 

I think Chan would find someone who’s serious and hardworking about their career particularly attractive

A person that’s ambitious/passionate and goes after what they want in life

Someone who knows how to look out for themselves

Mutual respect and appreciation for the other and what they do!

A person he can learn from in the relationship and be inspired by

[blu-archer]

Disaster Day

There are probably going to be grammar mistakes, because I can’t proof read to save my life... But hopefully it’s not hectic

Anyway, this was requested.. I kind of got carried away a bit, but I hope it’s close to what you may have wanted!! 

Word count: 6691

SNZ - Allergies

‘Sickie’: Jungkook

Caretaker: VHope

like [mild] inducing I guess... it’s meant to be cute and like, familiar..?

Hybrid Universe

*Awkward Peace Signs* 

uhh yeah, thank you for support and please enjoy it..<3

****

Jungkook was exhausted.

To be fair, his day had been jam-packed full of lectures and dance activities, so it shouldn’t have been that much of a surprise – if only that was the initial cause of his problems. No, despite his day of hard work his fatigue plagued him less due to the events of his schedule and more specifically to the day. His annual disaster day.

It had started when Park Areum had pranced up to one of his best friends in the food court that morning. Giving a shy smile before unloading a gift bag of chocolates and whipping a small bouquet of various bright flowers out from behind her back as she whispered a soft ‘happy valentines’. Jungkook had to force the urge to groan, not wanting to appear rude while Jaehyun politely accepted the gifts, shooting an apologetic glance towards the hybrid. And from there it had only gotten worse.

It was rather unfair. Jungkook loved flowers, they were beautiful, and they smelt sweet and pretty, but the love was clearly  not mutual. It hadn’t taken him long before the incessant itch clung to his sinuses, making paying attention to his classes increasingly difficult. All around him students traded cards and flowers with mirth, and he wanted to go home. Yugyeom had given him some of his own allergy medication, upping the dosage, but it was never truly effective for Jungkook. His hybrid genes just burnt off anything in his system before any real progress could be made. So, he was left to suffer.

It was hard to believe his day had taken such a turn for the worst, it had started off so well too. 6am he had been nudged awake by soft prodding and strokes along his sides. This had caused him to twist and muffle his giggles into Taehyung’s bare chest - only to realise that he had trapped himself in the infamous ‘iron cuddle grip’ and had left himself vulnerable to the hands rousing him from sleep. Hoseok hadn’t hesitated to continue, letting Jungkook’s whines and squirms be responsible for waking up Taehyung, and even if the witch had pouted and been grumpy for the first half an hour, it had quickly dissolved into teasing and discussion about whatever usual whacked dream Tae had had during the night. They had eaten breakfast together and shared kisses in the shower and had even gone as far to drop him off at school together to give him final kisses and promises for the day ahead.

Yet now he sat miserably in his drawing class, catching a sharp flurry of sneezes into his palm, and trying his best to sink into the shadows and away from everyone’s lingering gazes.

It wasn’t like he could help it. The frequency of the attacks were becoming more apparent with each passing moment and being in an enclosed theatre wasn’t helping. The girl next to him offered a sympathetic look before digging out some tissues for him, gesturing to a smudge of charcoal on his face as well.

Jungkook didn’t even care how desperate he appeared when he excused himself to the bathrooms to blow his nose. His head was beginning the ache and no amount of sniffling could help his running nose. There was a lengthy moment in the bathrooms just dedicated to splashing water on his face before staring blurrily at his reflection in the mirror. His eyes were tinged red and his nose had taken on such a bright hue that if he walked home someone would probably grab him to shoot a cold commercial. Looking closely – and this very well may have been his imagination, but he could have sworn that he could see a fine layer pollen sticking to his black ears. It was probably there. With how tight his chest was feeling, there had to have been something on him.

He coughed and blew his nose once more, contemplating if it would help if he just blocked his nostrils with the tissues from the rest of the session. He would look like a fool, but it could help… then again, with how sensitive his nose was currently it would probably just make it worse.

 A big part of him wondered what Tae and Hobi were doing, they weren’t allergic to flowers like he was so they were often able to still enjoy the day without having to worry too much about how they were going to feel at the end of it.

Hoseok had probably been spoiled by his classes and other staff members. Even before they’d started dating, Jungkook could see how much he appreciated the small little love notes or being gifted with a flower or a surprise date, or just being able to flaunt a relationship and be emerged in a bubble of emotions that left people staring longingly. He was able to do and get all of those things now, perhaps not all from Jungkook, but he got everything he deserved. Valentine’s day was always a big day from Hobi, probably because he never really cared about it before – especially back when he had still not to come out. And Jungkook was glad that he got spoilt now, he loved that people loved his boyfriend, and he especially loved how after being showered in complements and affection all day, the dancer came home and reached out in preference to his boyfriends.

With regards to his witch, the events shouldn’t be that much different. Taehyung was probably hiding behind some shelves, going through spell books. Or playfully flirting with Namjoon and Yoongi again. Or knocking off the love attempts of his small following of ‘fans’ that often came to the shop to swoon over him – much to Yoongi’s annoyance. Jungkook could never actually tell how Tae’s day would go. It seemed that every day was a day that someone expressed their ‘love’ for him, that hadn’t changed from when they had been teenagers.

Sinking to the tiled floor, he brought out his phone, frowning at the new crack in the screen from when he’d dropped it early that day. His ears drooped low, almost hiding his face as he stared down at their group chat.

Tae had posted an image about an hour ago of him fanning away faux tears while holding up three red roses dramatically, claiming that someone had -Unsurprisingly - confessed their undying love to him. He could see Yoongi over his boyfriends plaid shoulder entirely unamused at his apprentices actions. No doubt Tae had been lectured or had been subjected to a mouthful of tired, witty complaints after taking the photo.

Jungkook smiled at the quick replies beneath it.

From: ~♥Sunshine☼~

“Hope they have life insurance.”

 From: ~♥Tae♥~

“Hobi... You can’t kill them….”

 From: ~♥Sunshine☼~

“Don’t need to. Poor heart must have given out in defeat after you told them about your two super protective boyfriends.”

 From: ~♥Tae♥~

“Two super protective, lovable and sinfully attractive boyfriends. And yes. I think a part of it did, and again when Yoongi interrupted them after they propositioned for a number swap…. but on an upside. I got to boast about you both again!! Highlight of my working hours.”

 After some more mild threats, Hobi mentioned some other points of his day – mostly speaking about the dare Jimin had been put up too, crashing into the staff room that morning wearing a bright pink and white cupid outfit with wings and a halo, throwing around confetti and giving him sunflowers, and then all of the cute cupids throughout the separate grades coming to hand out things or sing to designated students.

There were some time gaps in the conversations after that, between the sections where either of them were too busy too answer, but they seemed to be having fun as they switched to teasing each other. Both had left prompts or questions for Jungkook more than once, always willing to drag the youngest into their banter. Although his absence wasn’t uncharacteristic, his eyes still lingered on the softly toned question that Tae had slid out barely fifteen minutes before, asking whether Jungkook was busy and what he had been up too…

 Not feeling up to making excuses, Jungkook tapped into his camera and took a quick, slightly blurry selca – not even bothering to double check it before he sent it through the chat. He looked terrible, and he would still look terrible if he checked it anyway.  He breathed heavily from his mouth as he wiped his nose, only to increase the sensitive tingles that pulsed through him. Jungkook could feel his eyes burn with irritated tears and they itched. God he wanted to rub at them, and his ears, they always got this way when he was around flowers for too long, but he knew it was a bad idea. University was not the place to let his allergies and instincts completely control his actions.

He lifted his phone lazily to see new messages had come through.

 From: ~♥Sunshine☼~

“Oh Bun…”

 From: ~♥Tae♥~

“Are you okay?”

“Allergies?”

“Is it bad there?”

“Can you breathe fine? Should I come fetch you?”

 From: ~♥Sunshine☼~

“I think you should leave early… Tae, ask Yoongi to borrow his car..”

“and maybe bring something menthol.”

 ..

“I’m fine mostly… Just really sneezy. And my chest is a little tight but it’s not that bad, probably frojnm” –

Jungkook sneezed openly into his lap, blinking in a daze before realising he had accidentally sent the message.

“from exposure.”***

..

From: ~♥Tae♥~

“I’m going to leave now, should I come fetch you from a specific building? Or wait outside?”

..

There was a small part of Jungkook that felt bad for being an inconvenience, but mostly he was satisfied that he was going to go  home. Even if that meant that Tae missed out on some of the usual adoring customers being even more adoring towards him, Jungkook will get to shower and nap and just exist in peace for a bit. And that sounded great.

“outside. I’ll leave now.”

..

From: ~♥Sunshine☼~

“love you Jungkook. I’ll be home as soon as I can!”

 From: ~♥Tae♥~

“I’ll be there in ten minutes, maximum.”

   He didn’t waste any more time. Discarding his used tissues, Jungkook shuffled back to his classroom. He coughed into his fist as soon as the door to the theatre had closed behind him, locking him inside with his demons. Thankfully he didn’t have to explain much to his lecturer. They had taken one look at him and just waved him away sympathetically, telling him to feel better and to try get some work done later if possible. Given the all clear, he had practically sprinted out of the room after grabbing his supplies.  

 The sun beamed down on him, almost brutally. His black wardrobe wasn’t helping much in that regard, but he walked hastily through the bustling courtyard to find the shading parking area just outside the security gates. A campus guard gave him a brief wave as he passed, eyes softening a little at the state of the shy, yet charismatic hybrid that he had come to know. Jungkook held his wrist to his nose as he ventured further away from the small crowds of people. He found an old bench that was situated under one of the many large Korean oak trees, that’s shadows were cast over his skin mimicking that of a cool breeze. It wasn’t the most comfortable seat, but it served his purpose. After getting as comfortable as he could on the frail wood, he tried once more to clear his nose. It was a hopeless attempt of trying to rid himself of symptoms, one that had obviously failed and had left him sinking back into the old harsh wood of the bench with closed eyes. He couldn’t smell the usually musky, earthy scent that clung to this area and he wasn’t willing to send himself into a fit by looking up at the dappled light shining through the leaves over head – although he could probably recall each and every possible shade that it could be right then. He’d tried to paint the various lighting on the leaves many times, year-round. The view was usually one he’d never want to miss, but the day had taken every last bit of energy he had and trying to appreciate it right this second just wasn’t going to be possible.

 “Kook?”

Jungkook opened his eyes to see Taehyung peering out of the driver window of Yoongi’s much loved Jeep. Had ten minutes passed already? It hadn’t seemed like it… Jungkook blinked slowly at the vehicle a few steps in front of him, reached to rub subconsciously at his eyes. Taehyung looked just has beautiful as he had that morning, his pinched brows more prominent by the red bandana that exposed his forehead. He had parked the car at a slant so that he could pull off easily, not caring about the irked glances security was sending his way for taking up more than one parking.

Realising a bit belatedly that this was his lift,  Jungkook sniffed and grabbed his things, shuffling tiredly to the passenger door. He vaguely heard Tae say something else as he hopped into the seat and tossed his things to the back, but he wasn’t really paying attention. A warm hand brushed through his hair, down his arm and then settled on his own fist. Jungkook closed his eyes once more and rested his head against the glass as Tae started driving, his hand being intertwined into a tight grasp that lay between the both of them as he drifted languidly to the sound of tires on tarmac and Tae’s gentle humming.

    **

“How is he?” Hoseok asked as Taehyung grabbed two of the three grocery bags the elder had been carrying inside, both moving too quickly put them onto the kitchen counter before starting to pack things away.

Hoseok had wanted to come home straight after work but had opted to going shopping in order to at least make something up for later if Jungkook was up for it – he was able to grab a few things for his boyfriends as well. They usually didn’t get things for each other when it came to these types of holidays, but he couldn’t help himself.

Taehyung shrugged. “He was really tired, so I had to wake him up a few times before he could shower, then he just kind of went to bed. I barely got a full sentence out of him.”

Hoseok sighed heavily. It wasn’t as worrying as the first few times he’d seen Jungkook get allergy attacks, he’d learnt that the hybrid tended to get stuck in his head and what he was feeling. Most of the time Jungkook didn’t even realise that he was going quiet, but Hoseok wished that he would at least let them help more.

“He probably just needs some time for the worst of it to calm down, I bought some scented lotions for later. If he wants it. Some dark chocolate too.”

“Should we make a soup or something?” Tae pondered. They usually stuck to warm foods when it came to allergies and colds, especially with Jungkook who was prone to rhinitis.  

“I was thinking about making a curry, or ordering one in if Jungkook needed us, but if he’s still asleep we can start making it now. The spices would help a bit.” Hoseok pursed his lips as he looked over what was yet to be packed away, his hands resting on his hips.

He startled a bit when he felt Taehyung wrap his arms around him from behind, resting his head into the crook of Hoseok’s neck as he engulfed the dancer into a fierce yet tender hug. Taehyung laid a kiss just below Hobi’s ear, smiling against the elders skin before sighing happily and relaxing onto his boyfriends sturdy frame.

“Why don’t you go shower so long? You’ve also had a long day… I’ll start cutting everything for you, I’ve gotten better - you’ve taught me well.” Tae said softly, his chest warming as Hoseok leant back as fluidly as he had leant on the dancer. “Then we can set up for a nice night in. Kookie didn’t even bother to set up a nest earlier, so I think it would be nice if we tried to do something like that for him. Then he can be comfortable enough to decide if he wants help or not…”

Hobi chuckled. “A little eager?”

“What can I say? He’s adorable… and I wasn’t the one that bought scented lotions and chocolate.”

“Touché.” Hoseok stepped out from the embrace with a grin, not wanting to inform the witch that he’d gotten those specifically because he knew the other two enjoyed it. He didn’t typically get the same reactions from it as they did, but he loved the care involved. Thinking about what the night entailed got his body buzzed with warm sparks as the expensive gift bag that he’d smuggled inside using his duffle bag came to mind. He couldn’t wait to for his boyfriends to see what he’d gotten them. “I’ll go shower, hopefully Kook is feeling better later… Be careful with that knife!”

 It wasn’t long before both Taehyung and Hoseok had finished with their preparations. Their meal was simmering away, filling the apartment with rich spicy aroma’s, and they had transformed their lounge into what they hoped was an appropriate nest of sorts. Carrying a mattress from one of their guest rooms had been a little difficult to do quietly, but Tae had peeked in on Jungkook to see that he was still uncovered, lying diagonally across their bed, smothering his snores into a pillow. After that, collecting a variety of blankets, pillows, plushies and majority of the soft scarves and sweaters that they had, had been a piece of cake. Hobi had made sure to dedicate a small table to the lotions and tissues, while another stayed mostly bare for their food and drinks later, the only thing adorning it was the chocolates Hobi had bought alongside a small herbal arrangement that Tae had gone and grabbed from Hoseok’s little garden on the ground floor, adding a few roses that he had easily twined up from wire.

Overall, it looked cute. It had even been fun to make.

They curled up on their soft creation while Taehyung set up a line-up of movies, listening to Hobi’s suggestions intently – not caring that half of his ideas were going to leave them crying if they watched them.

If its what Hobi wanted, it’s what he was going to get.

 It was just before six when Jungkook stumbled into the room. His nose was still red and a bit swollen, and his fist rubbed at his one ear with annoyance. The bunny hybrid had paused, his brows pitched into a tight frown as he took in the set up before him, then sniffled and collapsed onto Taehyung where he sat amongst the blankets.

He had woken up feeling a bit more refreshed, that tightness in his chest had disappeared, but he was still bothered by that  itchy feeling in his sinuses and congestion.

“How’re you feeling, Bun?” Hoseok asked as he joined them from the kitchen. His hand tangling up into Jungkook’s hair before scratching slowly at the base of his ear.

The hybrid blinked as a buzzed sensation did a lap through his body, leaving him rubbing a finger under his nose harshly. He could feel Taehyung pulling him back so that he’d be resting against the witches chest, Tae’s large hands rubbed ticklish circles into his sides that left him twitching in the elders lap.

..

..

“Bun?”

“’m fine..” Jungkook answered, focusing his slitted gaze on Hoseok’s face hovering before him. “Just…meh.”

Hobi hummed lowly. He dragged his nail along the length of Jungkook’s ear, sending shivers to course through his body. Hoseok did it again – slower – grinning as he watched as Tae flushed lightly and bit at his lip while Jungkook squirmed harder against the witches lap.

“What’s bothering you Kook? Should we help?” Hoseok asked softly.

“We made some food for us, too.” Taehyung added, a smidge deeper than usual. “We were going to wake you, but then we wouldn’t have been able to surprise you…”

Jungkook smothered a yawn into his fist, resting his head back onto Tae’s shoulder as he glanced around. The smile that spread across his lips wouldn’t stop growing as he caught sight of everything that they’d put into their attempt at nesting. They’d actually done well, almost an exact copy of what he would have done. His gaze landed on a set of lotions and the itch in his nose only seemed to increase at the thought of opening one of them.

“Food sounds great.” He said, scrunching up his nose. “I didn’t really feel like eating earlier.”

Without a moments’ pause Hoseok was heading back to the kitchen, followed closely by Tae who had gently nudged Jungkook to curl into the blankets beside him rather than on him so that he could help. They had dished up hastily, putting a hefty amount of the curry and rice mixture on the hybrids plate before carrying it out. Tae had made sure to grab a few bottles of flavoured milk before he returned to the room, where Hoseok and Jungkook were lighting up two of his large, sturdy scentless candles. With a soft smile he flicked his wrist towards the switch on the wall as he sat beside Jungkook, letting the room fall to darkness before the candles flame settled into a stable glow. They moved the candles up on either side of the tv screen and away from any possible accident range.

The meal had been a simple setting of silence, the trio all paying attention to either their food or the film that was playing just loud enough to not disturb the neighbours. Jungkook had sat through half the meal with tissues grasped in his hand, wiping at his nose every few minutes as the spices and heat opened up his sinuses. The itch had still not left, but had taken a bit of a backseat momentarily, which Jungkook didn’t know if he was thankful or annoyed about.

This definitely wasn’t exactly how he had planned for this day to go, it never was, but his boyfriends had somehow found an alternative to still have a good time. A part of him knew, the part that kept glancing back to those meticulously arranged lotions, that it would feel good to sneeze now, unlike earlier when the rest of his symptoms were problematic. Yet he didn’t want to ruin the soft mood that had been created. Not to mention asking them to help him with his nose was probably not very high on the romance list. Just one normal Valentines. That’s his aim. Just one. Surely it was possible…

So, he bit down on his lip and tried his best to ignore that lingering tickle, sipping on some milk, and letting the chocolate melt over his tongue.

They had just started the second film -another cute romcom that Hoseok had been hung up about- when Jungkook felt that tickle become apparent once more. Consuming him so far that he hadn’t realised that he had audibly hitched until he felt Tae’s soft, concerned strokes along his back. Defeated, Jungkook raised his hands to hover in front of his face, letting his breath shake and build – only to rapidly blink in confusion as the urge left him disappointed and sniffling. He frowned, then shrugged sheepishly at his boyfriends who had both turned to watch him. Hesitantly, they returned their focus to the movie, Hoseok had shuffled a bit closer to hug into Jungkook’s side while he watched so that he could hide his smile into the hybrids shirt each time something cute or embarrassing happened on the screen. Which Jungkook usually encouraged, but now Hoseok would give him a quick sideways glance each time he felt the youngers breath stutter – and he was almost certain that Taehyung had been aware of it as well after he moved the open box of tissues closer. After the fifth empty promise Jungkook didn’t care that it was blatantly obvious what he needed, he just wanted to be able to sneeze.

He sat up straight, causing Hobi to be pushed off of him, and rubbed at his nose as he glanced up to the ceiling. His breathing built shakily but once again, nothing happened. He let out a frustrated moan and pressed both hands to the base of his ears, rubbing hard to try and force some sort of result out of him.

“Jungkook?” Hoseok prodded, pulling one of the hybrids hands away from his ears. “What’s wrong?”

“I ne-h’hih-ed to sne-ehh..hh’heh…”

And then he saw through teary eyes, the soft tissue held before him.

“Let us help then, yeah?” Tae said deeply. It wasn’t like Jungkook was going to decline that offer.

Taehyung wrapped an arm over Jungkook’s shoulders to get more comfortable and then gently placed his tissue-armoured hand over the hybrid’s twitching red nose. Jungkook stiffened as his breathing faltered further by just having the enclosed warmth from Tae’s palm, both arms falling to his lap. An urgent whine crept from his throat as he felt the pressure of the witches fingers on the sinuses either side of his nose. His mouth had fallen open with  soft, panting breaths and he could feel Tae’s arm tightening around him as he gently massaged in silence.

A tight ball of heat had settled in Jungkook’s stomach, gradually working its way into his chest as he was left a physical mess and Taehyung pulled away to switch to a new tissue, deciding that the old one had become useless. Jungkook had been about to complain when he felt a long cooling breath directly hit his nose from the left. His eyes had snapped shut and he had pitched forward so quickly that Taehyung had barely made it time to catch the wet fit of sneezes that had allergic tears trickling down Jungkook’s cheeks.

 Huhe’TSHhh!! ..Hehh’ETCHhew! Eh’TSHhiew!...... …  Heh’ehhhshheww … Heh’eehhhTCHsheww!!

 Instinctively Jungkook had reached up to cover, trapping Tae’s hand in place as he snapped forward with another triple – half stifled as he squished into the steady palm.

“Bless.” Hoseok pressed a hand to the nape of Jungkook’s neck. “Better?”

Jungkook sniffled as Taehyung pulled away, only to have Hoseok press another tissue to his nose.

“Blow for me.”

A flush spread across Jungkook’s cheeks at the request but he did as was asked, taking a deep breath before blowing out with wet muffled burst. Hoseok didn’t flinch away and wiped at the hybrids nose once he’d finished.

Jungkook glanced away to see Taehyung slip a piece of chocolate into his mouth, then the witch met his gaze through dark, heavy lashes.

“Better?” He repeated Hobi’s question.

 Mostly. The itch wasn’t completely gone, but it wasn’t as bad as before. Yet he couldn’t bring himself to brush it aside anymore.

His mouth fell open to begin his explanation only to be met with chocolate flavoured lips. For the first time since that morning Jungkook was able to fully catch the witches scent. A wave of familiarity doused him, urging him into further contentment. He sniffed and leant closer as Tae had gone to move away, pressing his lips to the column of his neck as he breathed in the woodsy scent once more. A rumble vibrated through Taehyung’s throat as he laughed, pulling Jungkook into him as he rolled back into the nest playfully.

“You seem better.” Hoseok murmured with amusement.

“I-“ Jungkook looked up to see Hobi also reaching for the chocolate. “Thank you…It still… its fuzzy.”

“You want us to keep helping you, Kookie?”

Slowly, Jungkook nodded. A heat spread up his neck as Taehyung grinned at him, almost like he’d been waiting for Jungkook to ask all night.

“Can you lean back into me Bun?”

The question was practically rhetorical, Jungkook wasn’t going to be going against anything they asked of him at this point. He glanced over Tae’s shoulder and the elder’s grin slid into a lazy smirk.

“Tilt up.”

Their movie played on in the background, barely being heard over the pounding in Jungkook’s ears paired with his heavy breaths. Hobi held him gently and rubbed his cheek against the tender part of Jungkook’s neck, only increasing his pants a light trickle of pleasure bled through him. Taehyung took his time, dabbing a small section of his wrist with one of the bottles Jungkook had so keenly peered at before twisting a tissue up, ready to get to work. The hybrids nose twitched as he caught the sweet, fruity scent – at first only becoming slightly irritated until Taehyung moved closer. The candlelight hit the elder like a heavenly glow, an angel descending towards him with expression of something fallen rather than graced. He wondered what Hoseok would look like next to him – he wondered what Taehyung saw when he looked at them. From the depth of his gaze, Jungkook could only assume that it was something just as mesmerising as his view…

His senses burned.

Jungkook gasped and felt his eyes flutter shut as Taehyung moved to sit on his lap, his legs overlapping Hobi’s on either side of Jungkook. The witch reached up and pulled lightly at one of his ears and Jungkook moaned as he sniffed deeply, earning himself a lungful of the intoxicatingly sweet scent that had him pitch forward with a sharp ‘H’ehh’nngxch’. A finger settled below his chin and he met Taehyung’s burning eyes and tilted his head back obediently, his breath hitching against the scented wrist of the witch as he carefully inserted the tissue. The tickle that had permanently settled at the back of his nose reared into a dominant existence as Taehyung moved the ‘tool’ around in a calculated manner, while Hoseok took to laying soft kisses along his neck and ears.

Hoseok murmured soft words as he rubbed his thumbs into Jungkook’s lower back, asking how he was or if he wanted more. The bunny couldn’t even formulate a full sentence without his breath stuttering off. God, if he knew this was how his day would have ended he probably wouldn’t have been so annoyed about it in the beginning.  

Tae angled the tissue to reach slightly further in, biting his lip as Jungkook slackened beneath him, but still resulted in nothing more than desperate hitching.

“Angel…” Tae whispered deeply as he pushed the bottle of lotion that he’d opened towards Hobi. “Maybe we should work together on this…”

Hoseok kissed Jungkook’s neck a final time before he emptied some of the oil onto his palm behind the hybrids back. Taehyung returned his attention to Jungkook, dragging the tip of his forefinger lightly around the rims of the hybrids nose before returning the tissue to the next nostril.

Nghh hh hih… … huh.huh ..huh hhh… mmghhm..

Jungkook was going to die of frustration. Truly and entirely. Taehyung was teasing him now. The witch could very easily help him alone. He knew exactly what to do and where to go, and yet he wished to tempt and torture it out of Jungkook. Which wasn’t necessarily a bad thing, but damnit… now?

Jungkook gasped as heat scorched his blood. Taehyung had to rest a hand on his shoulder to steady him from slipped forward as Hoseok slipped his hands beneath the bunnies shirt. The dancers fingers glided over his skin like a sculptor, fluidly glazing his skin with the cold lotion. His nose quivered and his chest heaved. Immediately he was crumbling into a sniffling mess, Taehyung had even taken a moment to stop his tempting – although that may have been a new type of torture, letting Jungkook’s breath build. Somewhat desperate, Jungkook reached up to paw at the bridge of his nose only to have Hoseok grab a hold of his wrist, pulling it to join his own trailing the hybrids clenched stomach.

“Poor Kookie.” Taehyung brushed his hand through the youngers hair, tugging it lightly before petting down the length of Jungkook’s ear. “Why can’t you sneeze… hmm?”

“T-hih- teassahh ..snf snf..ah huh hh...”

Almost pitying, Taehyung settled his hand on Jungkook’s cheek, and the hybrids nostrils flared. A single finger ran down the bridge of Jungkook’s nose and his chest burst with an aching heat.

Huh iih eh ehh ehH’HESHI’uh! HEH’ITDZshhh! …Huh.. hh..nmmnmm snf. SNf. … eh ehh’hh ..h he heH…. heh’NGGXTshhheww! H’NGCHh’shuh… snnf

Jungkook panted and sniffled thickly, refusing to open his eyes to see the mess he’d probably made on Taehyung’s arm that had yet to move. One of Hoseok’s hand found its way up Jungkook’s spine, steadily sending chills through his body until the dancer slipped out and massaged at Jungkook’s ears. The bunny snapped forward into another bout of desperate breathy sneezes as his fur became slicked back and oiled as well.

“There you go..” Taehyung murmured lowly as he brought a tissue to the hybrids nose, catching the wet expulsions with a gently grasp – giving soft, prodding massages whenever the younger stuttered off shakily.

Between Taehyung’s pestering and Hoseok’s support and wayward gestures, Jungkook was pretty fucking blissed.

 ..

“You good?” Taehyung asked, pulling the younger into his embrace once Hoseok had excused himself to the bathroom.

“Mmmm. Stuffy… but good.” Jungkook ran his wrist under his nose, only to prompt a congested sneeze into his lap twice more.

Even after the lengthy shower that they’d had, Jungkook still couldn’t breathe out of his nose but it wasn’t exactly surprising. Taehyung had continued his teasing for almost an hour before deciding he’d done a decent job of satisfying what Jungkook needed. It had been great, Jungkook couldn’t remember the last time Taehyung had played this way, the last couple times that he’d asked for help had been simple and somewhat time restrained. And having both his boyfriends at his disposal had been the topping of it all.  

He closed his eyes and lent his head back onto Tae’s chest while the elder started to hum a soft tune that had a gradually serenity flooding into Jungkook’s body, almost encouraging the bunny to slip into sleep. He had been teetering on the edge of darkness when he heard the sound of Hoseok’s light footsteps re-enter the room.

  “Oh… is he asleep?”

“No,” Taehyung answered just as softly as Hobi had asked. “Not yet anyway..”

“Okay… Okay, I have to do something.” Hoseok said, oddly serious.

 Jungkook forced his eyes open again to see the usually spriteful dancer shuffling awkwardly in the dim candlelight, his thick jacket grasped tightly in his hands. Jungkook tried to swallow his yawn, failing to a second one, before clearing his throat with a light cough.  

  “You’re … leaving?” Jungkook frowned, his ears drooping low at the mere thought of not having both of his boyfriends near him.

“No!” Hoseok moved to his knees directly in front of the pair. His jacket falling to the ground with a thud. “I need to do something with you two.. or say something rather… and I hope you.. I don’t know.. like it? I guess?”

“Okay then..” Taehyung set his chin lazily on top of Jungkook’s head, giving Hobi a small reassuring smile. “I’m pretty sure we agreed no gifts, but if you need too…”

“I do.” Hoseok licked his lips, taking a shaky breath. For a moment the only sound in the room was Jungkook’s soft sniffles that he tried to muffle into his sleeve. Another breath, deeper and steadier this time. “I love you… both of you, so much I can’t even comprehend it. How did I end up at this point? The closeted human kid ending up in a relationship as comfortable and loving as this with not one, but two heart throbbingly precious men whose souls are probably the most kind and fearless and open that I will ever meet… I got so lucky.. I can’t imagine not seeing you every day, or not waking up to a full bed, or not watching you two bicker over food, or kissing you after a long day, or hearing your completely bizarre daily adventures – especially you Tae, I want to know every time you accidentally set something on fire or make potions combust in their jars –“

“it was two times!”

“My point being,” Hoseok laughed. “That I want to be in your lives for the rest of mine. I know I probably could have planned this better, but I suppose everything about us was a bit spontaneous…” he reached into the inner pockets of his jacket and retrieved two velvet boxes in each fist. “I know you both would do this differently, given the obvious differences, but I felt like this was the right time for me… we don’t need to like do anything straight away or anything I just-“

Jungkook reached out to touch Hoseok’s leg, halting the mans speech. “You’re rambling Sunshine.”

Hoseok bit at his bottom lip as he saw the faint confusion tinted in the bunnies furrowed brows and pursed lips, yet Taehyung was beaming with glistening eyes, his gaze never leaving Hoseok’s face.

“I- uh… here.” He handed the emerald box to Taehyung, who seemed to be trying not to shed any surprised tears, then pushed the crimson box into Jungkook’s palm. The hybrid’s confused expression rapidly turning into one of awe. “It’s not a unique sigil, or a mating mark, but this is the only way I can make a physical bond. I’ve thought about this for so long and I just…..I… yeah.. ..m-marry me?”

“Ma-Marry?” Jungkook blinked widely, while Taehyung squeezed the hybrid tightly with a huge boxy grin.

“As if we’d ever say no to you?” Taehyung giggled, the candlelight doing a good job at hiding the flush that had crept to his cheeks.

“Marry?” Jungkook repeated, almost hollowly.

Hoseok swallowed hard at the what could be about to happen. God, had this been a mistake? “You don’t need to say yes Bun, I just.. this is something I needed to ask. I just wanted us.. I just want to be bound to you more than just words. I want people to see that you’re mine, but it’s okay if you don’t want to.”

Taehyung peered down at the bunny questionably then opened his box. The ring was a thick simple band of white, laced with gold intricate designs of engraved roses and small rose quartz embedded in a circle throughout the centre. He didn’t stop the tears from falling then. Just nodded while biting down on his lip. Jungkook turned to see the ring, then looked down at his own box with his mouth agape.

“You.. You want to marry me?” Jungkook spoke softly. “I just spent the last hour and a half sneezing myself into the next plain of reality, and you choose now to ask this?” The hybrid gave a choked laugh, opening his box to see a black ring that was identical to Tae’s in design. Simple and yet so beautiful.  “Oh my god Jung Hoseok. You have the worst timing. I love you so much.”

Hoseok sucked in a tight breath and shifted to sit beside the pair. “Is that a yes?”

Jungkook started laughing again, sniffling back his tears. “Are you going to put these on us?”

Hobi grinned so widely it hurt. His blood danced and his heart screamed as both of his boyfriends leant into him, letting him slide their rings on.

“Ohhh  this is going to start a riot at work.” Taehyung teased happily. The giddiness in his voice only increasing as time passed.

“Good those girls can finally leave you alone.” Hobi kissed Tae’s shoulder as he intertwined his fingers with Jungkook’s. the ring pleasantly cool against his skin.

“To think I wasn’t looking forward to this day.” Jungkook mumbled, leaning back into both of his boyfriends arms.. “Best Disaster Day of my life

[pathological-peoplepleaser-alert]

Hospital Playlist : Season 1

So, I recently re-watched season 1 of Hospital Playlist in preparation of season 2 that’s going to be released on the 17th of June, and I have a couple of thoughts that I want to share. Warning: It’s going to be filled with spoilers, so for those looking to avoid that, please don’t read more. Also, this is a looooonnnnggg one :)

“Hospital Playlist” is a Korean Drama that follows five doctors in their 40s who have been best friends since adolescence as they form a band together. While the log-line appears simple, the depth in the script and acting will enchant any audience. The narrative is free-spirited and quirky, reverberating friendships forged by love and time in a heart-warming style.

This slice of life drama realistically tackles what occurs within the white walls of the hospital. From ungrateful patients to the long wait for donors, it has it all. This drama covered plenty of cases, each of them as sad as the next. I recall when Yang Seok Hyeong, an assistant professor of obstetrics and gynaecology, had a patient who delivered a baby with anencephaly. He was considerate enough to not allow the mother to hear the baby’s cries by playing loud music in the delivery room and quickly escorting the baby away from the mother. I teared up during that scene, and I still tear up just thinking about that. I watched it as a case in a K-Drama, but it is many people’s gruesome reality, and all I can offer are my sympathies.

Despite zoning out during the technical aspects and elucidation of medical terminologies, I could feel the gravity of an operation and the burden of Atlas resting on the doctors when they held the scalpel. I liked the fact that there wasn’t any hospital politics. Rather, the show focused on the doctors, as they tried their best to save their patients. I mourned during the losses of life and celebrated with the characters after a successful surgery.

The ensemble cast for “Hospital Playlist” was flawless. The sincerity of the actors and the efforts they had put into studying and understanding their roles were clear as day. The chemistry between them was organic and the banters, natural. While they didn’t verbalise every emotion, the viewers could feel their familiarity, like they were real-life friends on screen. I was on an emotional rollercoaster as I watched this, rooting for them through hardships and cheering whenever they laughed.

“I wondered why my life was getting so difficult. It was really tough. But all of a sudden, one day, I realised how much time I was wasting. Wasting my life away like this because of what she did to me was doing a disservice to myself.”

Jo Jung-Suk did a flawless job portraying Lee Ik-Jun. This was my second time witnessing a drama with Jo Jung Suk, and while I wouldn’t applaud his performance in “Oh, My Ghostess!” (But in his defence, I found that script to be problematic) I absolutely loved him in “Hospital Playlist”. Lee Ik-Jun is an assistant professor of general surgery. He’s funny, sociable, laid-back, charming, and a dotting, single father to his son, Woo Joo.

The first time I, as the viewer, was introduced to him was gold. Naughty little Woo Joo had managed to put a blotch of super glue to a Darth Vader helmet, which was later worn by his father. During an emergency at the hospital, Ik Jun showed up decked in Darth Vader gear and bravely holding a light saber, demanding that the helmet was unglued from his head. He got his wish, but only after performing surgery while wearing the helmet.

Watching Ik-Jun and his son together is heartwarming, to say the least. You can tell how much he loves his son, as seen by the way he prepared meatballs from scratch, including the ketchup, excitedly for his son, only for the latter to claim he wanted meatballs, causing the former to trip on his way to the kitchen. I also adore how most of the bonding scenes we see between them happens over sandwiches. I find that very precious.

Ik Jun is also very friendly to everyone. He warmly welcomes the medical students, greets his colleagues with a smile, and most notably, plays as a matchmaker between Jeong-won and Jang Gyeo-wool, even if it is so the latter could assist him on more surgeries. His relationship with his sister is also beautiful. I love how authentic they are, from their bickering and the hidden ways they care for each other.

Ik Jun provides comic relief plenty of times— I nearly fell off my chair laughing when he mimicked a train, and also upon seeing how adamant he was to eavesdrop on a private phone conversation of Kim Jun-wan.

“I don’t deserve to be a doctor. I can’t control my emotions. I empathise too easily.”

I must admit, Ahn Jeong Won has a soft spot in my heart and is my favourite from the group of friends. An assistant professor of pediatric surgery, Jeong Won gets overly attached to patients and takes every loss personally. Due to his sensitive nature, he’s detailed in everything he does, earning the teasing nickname of “Buddha” from his colleagues.

Hardworking but overemotional, there have been many instances when Jeong Won swears to quit being a doctor after a patient has unfortunately succumbed, and it’s only through the insistence of his oldest brother does he continue his job. He’s immensely religious and has a close relationship with God, and considered being a priest until the season finale.

His interactions with his young patients tug on all my heartstrings. From the gentle way he gets the permission of small children to check their vitals, to the dedication with which he treats his patients and dissolves their fears.

One of my favourite quotes of this drama was said by him, “Do you know why doctors only give vague answers such as ‘We can’t be sure yet,’ ‘We don’t know yet,’ and ‘We need to observe a bit more?’ Doctors must take responsibility for their words, so we must be careful. There’s only one thing we, as doctors, can tell our patients with certainty. ‘We will do our best.’”

Despite being born from a wealthy family, Jeong Won is nearly broke, spending all his fortune anonymously covering the hospital fees of poor patients.

Chae Song Hwa summarised Jeong Won’s personality neatly in episode 12 when she said, “Lastly, there’s you (Jeong Won). Seeing others enjoy good food makes you happier than when you are eating it yourself.”

“If the doctor gives up on the patient, he isn’t a doctor anymore.”

At first glance, Kim Jun Wan appears cold and scary, but there are so many dimensions to his character. He’s blunt, assertive and has a reputation for telling his patients what they need to hear, not that they want to hear.

However, he’s possibly the most caring person, having allowed Jeong Won to, in his own words, “mooch” of him for years now. He was also always nagging and hovering over his friends, keeping a stash of chocolates for them. He stepped up as the Chief of the cardiothoracic surgery department multiple times, whether it was to act as a shield to his mentee or to reprimand his juniors about the importance of (a patient’s) life and how every single decision taken by a doctor has to be thoughtful and absolute because there’s no way to reverse such things.

A great example of his outer versus inner personality is when he’s questioned by a medical student on why he chose to be a cardiothoracic surgeon. While he claimed that he became a surgeon after asking his professor which job would allow him to get the most money, with a glimpse of a flashback scene, it was revealed that when back as a student, Jun Wan was given the opportunity to witness a surgery and then, to touch a beating human heart, and felt life, that solidified his decision to choose cardiology as his field. Recalling that scene gives me goosebumps even now. That was magical.

Jun Wan is also a huge foodie, his only competition being Song-Hwa.

“What have you done for yourself lately?”

Chae Song Hwa is an associate professor of neurosurgery. Discerning without being too critical, she is intelligent and is often the mother hen of the group. Respected by her juniors, she has also been fondly dubbed the ‘ghost’ due to her busy schedule that has left several of her colleagues wondering whether she has time to eat or sleep. She was everywhere and knew everything, which allowed her to quietly look after the residents of the hospital and the patients.

Despite being buried under piles of work, she still made the time to grade her juniors papers, and I’m reminded of one of the first instances the viewers were given of her, which was when she comforted a patient in the elevators of a hospital. The only female professor in neurosurgery, she is kind to her patients.

I adore how decisive she is, being extremely clear about what she wants, drawing boundaries while still being friendly and radiating professionalism to those around her, despite the hardships she might be going through. She routinely goes camping during the weekend and is the embodiment of positive self-love.

Some of my favourite moments in this drama was literally just Song Hwa and Jun Wan aggressively eating like they’ve been hungry since the dawn of time. Song Hwa might have claimed that the reason she ate so rapidly, so full of zeal was because of growing up with older brothers, but Ik Jun was quick to shoot her down and note that they all looked boney.

“My time is too precious for that. I want to live doing the things I like. And the things I want to do right now.”

Probably the most under-appreciated character, Yang Seok Hyeong is a treasure. My first opinion of him was ‘mama’s boy’ and while I was correct, wow, I had not expected the reason why. In his youth, Seok Hyeong was not close to his mother at all, and we could even see him ignoring her phone calls. But after everything that happened with his dad, he grew closer to his mother, developed a new sense of protectiveness and appreciation for her, and I adore that.

He was also the reason the band reunited in the first place, making that his condition for working at the Yulje Medical Center. Despite seeming aloof, he was an open book to his friends. He didn’t like to bother or intrude on people and usually kept to himself, gaining a reputation for being a loner whenever he was not around his four friends.

Throughout the season, he was trapped in a whirlwind of turmoil, from the news of his unexpected brother to his father’s death and his surprise succession to the company he wants no ties with. He maintains a calm exterior and braces through the troubles.

Seok Hyeong lives up to the sensitivity his job demands from him, softly informing expecting mothers about the risks of their pregnancies while encouraging and empathising with them when things get hard.

He prefers to stay in the shadows and allow people the opportunity to sort their messes out themselves, after reminding them that he’s only a call away if they need him. He’s an excellent confident booster and appreciates those who are responsible.

These characters stayed not only in my mind but also in my heart. Each of them has such vivid personalities I can’t entirely capture in words. Their insecurities, struggles, and feelings were so real and incredibly relatable and easy to empathise with.

As conveyed by the title, music plays an important part in this T.V. serial, by allowing the characters to reminisce their college days and also allowing them a breather from their stressful life. There are thousands of words in the English language, and yet, I can’t string together enough of them to express how I felt when Jo Jung Seok sang Aloha.

The doctors use music not only as an outlet to release their frustrations, but also to express their thoughts and feelings. To heal. Listening to the songs and the covers made by the band lightened my heart. The labour they put into practising the songs made the moments more precious.

Through the music sessions in this T.V. serial, I found my affection for each character increasing. I found myself surprised to recognise some of the songs considering they are quite old, but I hummed along and felt the air around me thrum with glee as they sang.

I also found it rather ironic that Chae Song Hwa is considered to be a bad singer (her pre-routine of gulping down raw eggs fascinated me on an odd level) although the actress who plays her, Jeon Mi Do is a talented singer.

Therapeutic and well-written, I marvel at the writer’s ability to weave together arrays of mundane subplots into endearing bliss, leaving lingering positivity after every episode along with a yearning to watch more.

I’m a huge fan of writer Lee Woo-Jung’s Reply series and was hesitant to start this drama, afraid that it would fall short of expectations. But having watched it, I can safely say that those concerns were unnecessary, and whatever expectations I had were only exceeded. I couldn’t recognise any leading plotline of this drama. To me, it simply showcased the daily life of five doctors.

As it is character-driven, there is a slow progression of the drama, which needs some time getting adapted to. It was also a little hard trying to keep track of the multiple characters initially introduced, but within three episodes, I was able to get a hang of things. The dialogues were witty, impactful and sharp, capturing my attention from the beginning to the end. However, despite containing a plethora of humorous moments throughout this serial, there was a subdued layer that focused more on the community than the plot.

I must admit, however, that I found the first episode to be subtly chaotic and slow-paced. I couldn’t grasp the concepts or connect with the characters until the second episode, after which I had no qualms.

I loved the character arcs in this story. It was a pleasure to observe their journeys and diligence as various storylines diverged or amalgamated, how they grew as individuals while maintaining their core values. The flashback scenes were fascinating to watch and compare how they are now to how they used to be.

The cinematography was stunning. I was in awe at how different shades and tones of light could impact not only the setting of the scene but also the mood of the viewers.

I recommend “Hospital Playlist” to anyone who likes to watch T.V. serials possessing the perfect amount of drama, laughter, angst, warmth and love. This serial is a truly rare gem in a basket of rocks where the storylines are solid without being too predictable.

[themadauthorshatter]

If you're up to date with my posts, then you know what's about to happen.

I've read the books, WE'VE ALL READ THE BOOKS, but this is a somewhat fun switch-a-roo.

Expect a BUNCH of changes that I'll try justifying, especially painful ones, so bear with me🙏

OTP SWAP PART 1: THE CRUEL PRINCE!!!!

I'm starting with the first book for obvious reasons

Like before, we start in the mortal world with Ashley Duarte(yes, human!Cardan's last name is Duarte, but like I said, bear with me) making tacos in the kitchen while one of the MANY dogs and other animals wait for her to drop some food. Baby boy Cardan and his older half-sister Rhyia are watching some human stuff, maybe Looney Tunes or old Mickey Mouse cartoons, when the door is knocked on, which alerts the animals and wakes a half asleep Cardan; Rhyia does not wake up.

Cardan answers it and finds a cloaked Madoc at the door. Rather than ask who he is or call for his mother, he stares at this man, who kneels and asks as evenly as possible if his mother is home.

Cardan slams the door in his face, which prompts Ashley to ask why he did so.

Madoc BANGS on the door and shouts, "Asha!" and Ashley pales as she realizes who is at the door.

She demands Cardan to go upstairs as Madoc kicks the door open and walks inside, giving the same speech as the original, that Balekin told him she'd ran away with his daughter, that she killed a woman who was just as pregnant as her, that she ran away and married some lowly farm hand and blacksmith. He thought it was a lie, but nope. Here she stands.

Asha(which is her real name) is deeply ashamed at his words, and tries to pull Cardan away; an angry Madoc is an unstable Madoc.

Like before, Justin rushes in to save his family, but ends up getting kebabbed with his wife.

Rhyia does wake up to see both and Madoc spills the tea that she's his and needs to pack her bags because they're leaving, and Cardan's coming with.

Cardan, despite being seven, is outraged and tries to kick Madoc into oblivion with no avail. Rhyia, however, swears that she'll never love a monster like Madoc, who simply scoffs and tells her to wrangle the human and gather her things in half an hour, because they're leaving for Faerie.

Reluctantly, they do and they never see the mortal world again for a very long time.

Jump to the present day as Cardan, a now seventeen year old human heart throb, is getting prim and proper for a revel. His hair is getting styled nice, he's in a nice suit, he's wearing a cool belt that makes him look like he has a tail, and has ear cuffs that make his ears look pointed like a faerie.

He also has rowan berries on his wrist, because he doesn't want the necklace to be easy to see as a lot of his shirts show his chest.

He's dolled up and meets Locke, his brother that came around when Madoc married Oriana and had Oak. The two did not get along, at first, but they began to tolerate each ither as they realized they were the only humans in Faerie that were gentry kids.

Locke is more of a bard or a poet, always seen with a little book, and doesn't wear the same stuff Cardan does, so no pointed ear cuffs for him. He's also more accustomed to Faerie, being good with half truths and minor deception. He's on good terms with both Madoc and Oriana.

Cardan, however, is not on good terms with either of them, as he has tried multiple times to leave Faerie, with and without Rhyia with him, and every time ended with Madoc outside scowling at him and leading him back to his room. Still has that 'no kill' rule, but he's better with sneaking and a sword, having been able to lighten his steps so he could sneak past Madoc and his guards whenever he tried to leave. He's not bad with a sword, but he still has a lot to learn, being 17 and all. When he doesn't have a sword in his hands, he has an animal in them, i.e. a foal, a dog, or, at one point, a skunk that was calm enough to not spray him. Yeah, animal lover that can hold his own.

The two exchange banter and Locke shows show rare excitement for this revel, saying the two will have the time of their lives. Locke, who isn't as close with her, wonders where Rhyia is, but Cardan reveals she's not attending, instead going to visit some friends in the mortal world.

Her funeral as the boys saddle up with Oriana amd Madic and go to the revel.

Similar events occur, like Oriana telling the boys to be careful, Madoc talking to Dain and Balekin, and Locke leading Cardan through the revel so they can have a good time.

IT GOES DOWNHILL WHEN THE GREENBRIAR TWINS AND THEIR FRIENDS ARRIVE. Jude, her older sister Taryn, and their friends, Edir, a bard that can sing and play anyone under the table, Valerian, who's a sadist, and Nicasia, the princess of the Undersea.

Jude and Taryn may have the same face and body, but don't be fooled, Jude has horns, always wears a sword, and will slap you in a dress and then set it on fire without a second’s hesitation. Taryn, however, always has a bunch of flowers in her hair, always wears a dress, and uses words as her weapon. Did you know that she broke on of the most boisterous men in Faerie qith nothing but her words? True story. Edir is the guy that keeps them both in check, an order of Balekin's, which we'll learn later. He is also more of Jude's friend and Taryn's bed buddy, in SFW terms. Nicasia is Jude's friend, like FRIEND, and Valerian is the same, really, just more of an ass now that he has more even targets.

Everyone bows to these guys, even Cardan and a smirking Locke. That smirk vanishes when Taryn winks at Cardan, who Jude GLARES AT.

Locke feels the same way, cinfused and angry, but no time to think in it because Valerian storms toward a confused Cardan and grabs him by the collar, snarling that he can play dress up and make believe all he wants because it won't hide his plain hair or round ears or barn dog smell, so he shouldn't even bother.

Valerian throws him back and Locke rounds on Cardan, asking him what the hell that was between him and Taryn. Cardan brushes him off, as it was just a wink, not a lap dance. Before they can REALLY go at it, crying draws their attention and see that Jude just pincushioned someone who didn't bow, said someone nkw having a hole in their stomach and a slash across their torso. Taryn is annoyed, Nicasia and Valerian are trying not to laugh, and Edir, who's embarassed, is scolding Jude for losing it at a revel.

Jump to after the revel and the day of school. The boys do indeed get dirt kicked on their food, but instead of 'make me,' Cardan snaps, 'TRY me,' because Nicasia asks if he's as filthy as other human boys. Locke talks him down, but Valerian, kicking more dirt and even throwing some IN Cardan's face, asks if the two qould like them for friends.

Locke apologizes for Cardan, but Jude commands he prove it by dropping out of the tournament, it'll be less embarrassing than getting his ass beaten in front of everyone.

Nicasia spots one of the ear cuffs and pulls it off, asking if he stole it. Big mistake because the cuff burns her hand, as it is iron and iron hurts Faeries.

Cardan smirks and the group leaves, Locke scolding him for being stupid.

Later, at dinnner, after talk of Dain's coronation, Cardan, despite some minor objection from Rhyia, asks Madoc a question: May he please have a green sash for the tournament? Why? He would like to be a knight, please and thank you. Madoc chikes on his wine, Locke coughs to hide a laugh, Rhyia winces, and Oriana os shicked into silence.

Madoc gives it to him straight: he's not bad with a sword, he's good on his feet,and he's the best damned rider that anyone's ever seen, but no. He cannot compete for knighthood, on the count of being the furthest thing from a killer imaginable and just being in over his head.

Cardan protests that he can do just fine, but Madoc warns him to stop before he gets himself thrown in a dungeon instead if his room until the coronation of prince Dain.

Cardan relinquishes and we get the salt prank like before, except Locke is pissed beyond all reason at his foster brother. Cardan doesn't mind until he's grabbed by Edir and Valerian, Locke being pulled by the hair by Jude and both are thrown in the river, which has Nixies in it.

Thier supplies get yeeted, Locke gets pulled out by Valerian and is made to kiss Jude on the lips and both her horns, but, when asked, Cardan does not give up, vowing that he will never give up, which makes Jude laugh and the group leave.

Locke and Cardan walk home, get some baths, and go to bed, except they go to the mortal world with Rhyia and meet her friends Vivienne and Heather at the mall. Vivienne apologizes for Jude's behavior, and we learn that Rhyia is planning to leave Faerie, and is probably going alone.

The boys return and endure a lesson, but Jude pushes Locke's buttons, so Cardan pushes her into a tree. Challenge accepted.

TOURNAMENT TIME!! Cardan fairs wellin that Valerian is lazy, Edir is out of shape, and Jude got cocky, so he wins.

Jude fumes at him, later grabbing him by the tail on his belt amd demanding he beg for her forgiveness. He does... NOT! And spits in her face that she may push him down, but he'll pull her down with him, and it will hurt her like hell.

Taryn approaches him and expresses interest in him, saying that she once took both Edir and Nicasia from Jude because people just like a sensitive girl.

She leaves and the tournament eventually ends, which leads Cardan to return hime and meet Dain, who requested one of Madoc's people to tell Cardan one of Eldred's children had come for a visit.

Dain and Cardan get talking and Dain offers him something that isn't knighthood: spying. Plus one wish.

Cardan knows what he wants: to not be controled.

Granted, but Dain can still control him and the fruits of Faerie will still effect him.

Screwy, but deal, he's a spy now

STAY TUNED FOR PART 2!!!!!

[kiwi-bitchez]

You Can Bet On It

Summary: Your roommate drags you out to the club where she beets a tall, blonde, handsome brit. You hand back at the bar and happen to meet his roommate. 

Tom Holland x Reader

Warnings: smutttt, a little rough, spanking and light choking, use of vibrator, alcohol consumption

Word Count: 8k (got a little carried away with this one...)

Oh god, what is that horrible squeaking sound?

You are ripped from your trance to realize that the irritating noise was coming from you. Your bad habit of scratching off beer labels when you are nervous was starting to show, as your nail had worn completely through the thin paper, and had been obnoxiously rubbing into the glass.

You had zoned out, letting your eyes land on the ground and drift out of focus, clearing your head for a moment or five. Bars weren’t your favorite place. Scratch that, this kind of bar wasn’t your favorite place. Watered down liquor, slurred speech, thumping music, and people who were drunk enough not to care that they were practically having sex in public.

One of those people being your roommate Madison. You loved her, but god you couldn’t be more different. She is wild, sparkly, loud, fun. You’re…not. Your squeaking had pulled your focus back up to the dancefloor of the club where she was swaying her body back and forth with some tall blonde stranger.

You had to give it to her, she had a way with men at bars. Barely even setting her stuff down before someone buys her a drink, uses a line, offers to dance. This was Madison’s cup of tea, or tequila rather. She loves getting dressed up and going out to the busiest clubs, finding some handsome stranger to whisk her away for a night.

You didn’t judge her, not at all. You actually found yourself jealous of her, wishing you had that kind of confidence. She had tried to help you on many occasions, being your self-proclaimed wing-woman and trying to help you pick up guys at bars, but you could never quite get the hang of the awkward small talk and rushed physical intimacy.

You did, on occasions like this, let her drag you out with her. It kept her off your back about being “antisocial” and a “hermit,” and you liked keeping an eye out for her, making sure no one was trying to take advantage. Not that she couldn’t take care of herself, Madison would snap if anyone tried to pull anything, but a more sober pair of eyes never hurts.

You had managed to grab a seat at the bar, facing outward to observe the bustling crowd. People-watching could sometimes prove to be an interesting way to pass the time, and truthfully you’d rather observe than interact most of the time. A few people had started conversations with you at the bar, and you weren’t a bitch or anything, you just clearly gave off the vibe that you weren’t interested in being bought some fruity cocktail and wooed onto the dancefloor.

Madison had her back pressed against the guy she was dancing with, his hands on her hips. The song was ending, and she made eye contact with you, nodding her head not-so-subtly towards the bathroom, signaling to you that she wanted to talk. Laughing to yourself at how un-smooth, yet totally smooth she managed to be at the same time.

“What’s up girl,” you ask as she pulls you into one of the single stall bathrooms.

“Y/N,” she grabs your shoulders, “he’s BRITISH.”

“Who?” you ask before registering that she was probably talking about that boy she had been grinding on.

“His name is Harrison, and he’s BRITISH, got the accent and everything,” she pressed her back up to the wall, pretending to fan herself off.

“Damn, going international now?” you joke, twiddling with the bottle in your hand.

“So, I need you to check him out, get a vibe, and let me know what you think,” she locks eyes with you, trying to be serious, unable to keep a few giggles from slipping out.

“I saw you two dancing, he’s definitely really good looking,” you tell her. She would always do this, try to make you feel involved, ask your opinion about the guy she was flirting with. She said she always wants your truthful opinion, but she always got the hottest guy at the place no matter where she was, so there wasn’t much for you to tell.

“Ugh, I’m totally gonna fuck him. Should I? I’m going to. I HAVE to. He’s British, and I can’t pass up an opportunity like that,” she was definitely talking to herself at this point.

You turn her towards the mirror, help her fluff her hair, straighten her dress, and give her some words of encouragement.

“You are hot. You are amazing. And you are going to have amazing hot sex with British Harrison,” you chant to her in the mirror, encouraging her to say it back to herself. Not that she needed the encouragement, but these little rituals you had in club bathrooms were always funny and sweet, it was one of the reasons you didn’t mind going out with her. You appreciated that she liked having your opinion, having someone she trusted around.

“Go get ‘em tiger,” you give her butt a tap as she exits the bathroom and shuffles back out onto the dancefloor, finding her man right where she had left him.

Your seat at the bar had been stolen, but you spotted an empty area over by a wall, somewhere you could comfortably stand and wait until Madison left with her suitor. Deciding to order another drink, something a little stronger than the beer you had been nursing, you make your way over to the bar.

Forearms leaning against the hard surface, you poke your head forward trying to get the bartender’s attention. She walks over, but immediately starts chatting up the guy standing next to you. Typical. If she pushed her boobs up a little bit he would probably leave a fat tip, so you couldn’t blame her.

You shift your eyes over to get a look at the guy next to you as he orders his gin and tonic, all you could see were his toned forearms and a glimpse of his profile. Not bad. You understood why the bartender was so eager to ignore you. She eventually stops fake laughing at his order, because what the fuck is funny about a gin and tonic, and looks your way.

“I’ll just have the same,” you say quickly, wanting to get out of there quickly and claim your spot by the wall.

“Are you copying me, love?” the stranger asks, leaning his bodyweight against the bar in the same position as you, “is that your move? Order the same drink to chat me up?”

“What’s your move, love” you quickly quip back, “being a dick to girls at the bar and hoping they’re into that?”

“You just didn’t strike me as a G and T type of girl, that’s all,” he puts his hands up defensively.

“Hmmm I see, be a dick and then tell me what kind of girl I seem like.”

You finally turn to him, allowing yourself to make eye contact. You hoped that he wasn’t taking your banter the wrong way, you weren’t trying to be nasty, you just found yourself in a particular mood.

He opened his mouth to say something back to you, but you cut him off before he could. In the two seconds you had made eye contact, you had realized that the stranger you were having your little back and forth with had an accent. A British accent.

“Are you here with that guy?” you gesture over to Madison on the dancefloor, “tall, blonde, striking blue eyes. English.”

“Harrison? Yeah, he’s my mate. If you’re interested in him you should probably have made your move a while ago, because he seems a bit occupied,” he chuckles.

“Yeah, occupied with my roommate,” you laugh back.

“Ah, I see,” he takes the two drinks from the bartender, handing you yours.

“Is he a good guy?” you ask, not sure why this man would tell you otherwise, “he’s not going to like, tie her up and murder her or anything like that?”

“Harrison? Nah, good guy, decent guy. He might tie her up, but he definitely won’t murder her.”

“Ha ha,” you sarcastically respond, “just looking out for my friend.”

“Why do you ask? You think they’ll go home together?” he asks.

“Oh, most definitely,” you tell him, “she dragged me into the bathroom a minute ago to gush about how she’s about to fuck a British guy.”

“Haz is a bit of a slag, so that won’t be too hard on her part.”

“Yeah, I see they are already well acquainted,” you turn to see Madison’s tongue down his throat. This night may be ending quicker than you had anticipated.

“I’m Tom,” he pulls your attention away from the public displays of affection and back to where he was seated at the bar, an empty seat opening up next to him.

“Y/N,” you stick out the hand that wasn’t holding your drink.

“It’s weird that you shake hands,” he says as he takes your clammy hand into his, his grip tighter than you had expected.

You shrug and take a gulp of your drink, abandoning hope of claiming the spot by the wall and deciding to camp out here with this strange British boy until Madison goes on her merry way.

“So how do you know him,” you nod back to where Harrison and Madison are.

“Oh, Haz is my best mate, we go way, way back,” he leans on his arm again, giving you a good view of his biceps against his black t-shirt, “we live in South London, but we’re here in the States for the summer. Work stuff.”

“Oh, so you two live together?” he nods at your question while sipping his drink, “so we can be sad and lonely at the bar while our hot roommates get it on.”

“Wow, I’ve never been told I’m lousy company before,” his humor met yours, “and I even paid for your drink you copycat.”

“You didn’t,” you give him a stern look but he shrugs back, a mischievous grin creeping across his face.

“Is this your ploy,” you smack the side of his arm, “the two of you find girls at the bar to lure back to your fancy apartment to have a freaky foursome with or something like that?”

“Now who’s being a dick and assuming things,” he says through broken laughs.

“Although,” you draw out your words, “your friend is pretty hot, maybe I’ll just go home with them.”

“Haz most certainly would not be opposed to that,” he jokes back.

You gesture to the bartender to make two more, and to put them on your tab. Tom gives you a look, but you give him one right back.

“Now I don’t owe you anything,” you explain.

“Hey, I’m not like that,” he gets defensive again, “I’m not quite as sleazy as my friend over there.”

“I’m just trying to help you out,” you narrow your eyes, “you’re the one who’s going to have to put up with the two of them all night.” You gesture over towards Madison and Haz.

“Pardon,” he coughs as he downs the rest of his drink, getting ready for the next.

“Oh, you thought they would be going back to our apartment?” you laugh sarcastically, “no, no, absolutely not.”

“Are you being serious? Or are you fucking with me? Cuz I honestly can’t tell.”

“Oh, you’re going to wish I was fucking with you. By the way she’s looking at him, I’m gonna give them, I don’t know, three, four solid rounds,” you try to make an empathetic face but can’t help the grin that creeps onto your face, “and Madison’s a screamer.”

“Too much information, thank you,” Tom covers his ears.

“Hey, I’m just trying to give you a heads up,” you cackle.

“Who’s to say he can’t convince them to go back to yours. I bet it’s closer.”

“She’s good at getting what she wants, and she “doesn’t shit where she eats”,” you make air quotes around the phrase, “in whatever twisted way that means she doesn’t like to bring guys back to our apartment. Weird personal rule, but I don’t question it cuz I always get to sleep peacefully.”

“You wanna bet?” Tom suggests, clearly not having thought this through, “My boy Haz is a smooth talker, and it seems like she really likes him. I say you’re the unfortunate roommate who’s going to have to put up with all that.”

“You’re on,” you set your drink down, extending your hand to him for the second time that night, “what do I get when they go back to your place?”

“If they go back to mine, I’ll cover your tab and leave you alone. And when they go back to yours, you’ll agree to let me take you out sometime,” he shakes your hand with a cocky grin on his face.

“Doesn’t seem like much of a bet, either way you’re buying me a drink.” He was growing on you, the accent, the floppy brown hair, the dimples. You were still wary of meeting strangers at bars, but something about him seemed genuine.

The two of you flipped around in your bar stools and faced the dancefloor. You liked that he never asked you to dance. Most girls would be dying to dance with a guy like Tom, but you liked just sitting at the bar, shooting the shit and sipping your drinks.

“Okay, okay, here they come,” you whisper and jab your elbow into his side.

Madison and Harrison stumble off the dancefloor and make their way to your place at the bar.

“Hey mate,” Harrison slings an arm around Tom’s shoulder.

You tune out their conversation as you notice Madison making a ridiculous face at you, eyes practically bugging out of her head.

“THAT’S his roommate?” she mouths to you, gesturing to Tom. You nod, trying to signal to her to be more subtle.

“Y/n, what the fuck?” she continues to mouth words silently to you.

“What???” you mouth back, trying to not let Tom and Harrison notice this awkward side conversation you were having. Luckily, they were occupied by their own.

“He’s fucking HOT,” She starts to whisper, you scrunch up your face, trying to tell her to stop making a scene about it. She gets the hint, but proceeds to point to you, point to Tom, and then do the finger going in and out of the hole gesture.

You slap her hand down as she starts to laugh, “Jesus Madison, cut it out,” you whisper, “you two are going back to his?” you change the subject.

“Yeah, obviously,” she says a little louder, “sooo, perfect opportunity for you…”

“Chill out, please,” you bring your hand to your temple, knowing she was being anything but subtle and Tom had probably noticed by this point.

“I owe you big time,” Harrison says to Tom as he starts to back away, taking Madison under his arm, “I’m serious bro.”

“Yeah, yeah, be safe you two,” Tom swats the air towards Harrison and turns back towards the bar, burying his head into his hands.

“Ha ha,” you poke his side, “told you that was a bad bet to make.”

“Know any cheap hotels around here?” Tom asks, looking exasperated.

“You’ve got to be kidding me,” you look at him seriously, “he kicked you out for the whole night?”

“I offered,” Tom sighs, “he would do the same for me.”

“Damn, you’re a good friend. Certainly a better roommate than me,” you turn to him, trying to be sympathetic, “but honestly, you probably didn’t want to be present for any of that anyways.”

Tom gestures towards the bartender with his card, telling her to charge for both your bar tabs.

“You really didn’t have to do that,” you say.

“Hey, a bet is a bet, and now I’ll leave you alone if that’s what you want.”

You grab his arm as he starts to get up. Something inside of you told you to help him out, to not let him leave.

“It’s no Four Seasons, but I may know a place where you could kill a few hours,” you tell him, his eyes wide with excitement that you wanted to spend more time with him.

“You sure? It’s really no trouble…”

“Yeah, I’m sure, it’s only a few blocks from here.”

The two of you exit the loud club, only a few minutes behind Harrison and Madison. The stark contrast of the freezing outside air from the sweaty atmosphere of the club hits you. You take a few steps out onto the city sidewalk. Suddenly your feet buckle out underneath you and you are slipping backwards rapidly.

Tom quickly grabs you, one hand catching your shoulders and the other grabbing your hand, helping steady you. You gasp from the fall, but are grateful that you never hit the pavement.

“Hey, watch out for that patch of ice,” he jokes.

“Thank you,” you were a little flustered, both from falling and from being in his arms.

The two of you continue down the street, his hand still tightly gripping yours. You look at him questioningly, raising an eyebrow.

“Just making sure you don’t slip again, love,” he squeezes your hand a little tighter. You roll your eyes at him but don’t let go.

Typically, you would hate the pet names, “love,” “darling.” That stuff usually made your skin crawl. But there was something about his demeanor, maybe it was the accent, that made you not mind it at all. You actually kind of liked it.

“So where are you taking me?” he asks.

“Secret.”

It actually wasn’t anything worth keeping a secret. You worked at a small bar a few blocks away from the club you had been at. It was very different however. It was small, and never crowded other than a few regulars who would take the same booths and order the same drinks every night. It was down a side street, relatively difficult to find, hence the lack of business.

What you weren’t planning on telling Tom was that this was also the building you lived in. Your apartment was a few floors up. You picked up night and weekend shifts at the small bar to help cover rent, plus it wasn’t a bad place to spend your extra time. You never had to work too hard, and you could read or do homework behind the bar when not tending to customers. Plus, you got the pick the music.

You stomped your feet against the doormat, scraping all the collected snow off your shoes. Tom didn’t seem to be bothered that you had brought him to another bar, he seemed happy even. You watched his face intently as his cheeks grew rosy from the warmth of the indoors. You liked how the tips of his ears turned pink.

“Voila,” you gesture to the generally empty room, “the Four Seasons.”

He smiles at you and offers to take your coat. He makes his way over to the bar, choosing one of many empty seats. His eyebrows knit together as you continue walking away from him, hopping behind the bar.

“I’m not sure you’re allowed…” he starts.

“Hey Ernie,” you yell into the back office. Your boss replies with something muffled that Tom can’t quite make out, “no, not working tonight, just here with a friend,” you respond to him.

“Ah, so we’re friends now?” Tom asks as you start to make two drinks.

“Oh sorry,” you respond sarcastically, “I’m just here with the roommate of the guy who’s fucking my roommate, my bad.”

“No, no,” he brings his hands up, “we can be friends.”

He takes a sip of the drink you’ve handed him, asking you what it is.

“Moscow mule, fresh ginger, extra lime.”

“This is great, I’ve never had one of these.”

“What can I say, I’m kind of a pro,” you lean on the bar across from him, folding your arms on the countertop.

He liked your sense of humor, how you always had a comeback or something snarky to say. He also really liked your casual attitude, how you seemed unphased by everything. Little did he know you were constantly screaming inside, completely unsure of everything you said and did. Completely unsure as to how you ended up making a cocktail for one of the most attractive boys you’ve ever met. You tried to keep your cool though, and so far, it had been working.

You faced one another, sipping your drinks. At first an awkward moment of silence settled around you, exposing that the two of you truly had just met and knew virtually nothing about one another. You quickly slipped into easy conversation. You didn’t talk about the typical important things like where you worked, where you go to school, how you ended up in the city. You didn’t ask him why he was in the states, or any details about his personal life.

The stuff you talked about was far more personal than that. You exchanged theories about the ending of Lost, debated what Ben and Jerry’s flavor is best, shared the local vernacular and slang you used. These are the things that are important. You didn’t care what he did for work. But you did care what his favorite sitcom was.

“Does this place serve food at all?” he asked when your conversation had turned to what shape of pasta goes best with what sauces.

“Nah,” you gesture to the bar, “this is everything, no kitchen.”

“Damn, I could go for something to eat. Any good places around here?”

“Unfortunately, no. Everything near us either closed at midnight or will for sure give you food poisoning.”

He ate the lime out of his drink, sucking on the pulp until nothing but the skin was left.

“Really that hungry huh?” you joke, taking his lime wedge and tossing it in the garbage, “cuz I can cut up as many of those as you’d like, maybe even find you some maraschino cherries.”

“Don’t bother, maybe I’ll just drink myself into an oblivion.”

“Hey, don’t do that,” you were going against your better judgment when you said this, but it just slipped out, “I can get you some food, follow me.”

You walked around from behind the bar and instructed him to follow you. You slipped through a back door into a spiraling staircase. The air was cold and musty, and the stairs were slightly rickety under your feet. This was the fastest way to get up to your apartment, and you realized now it was too late to turn back, he had joined you in the stairwell and you started making your way up.

“You were worried about your roommate getting murdered by Haz, but now I’m starting to think I should be the one worried,” his tone was joking, but you wondered if he actually thought you were crazy.

“Very funny,” you dismissed it as a joke, “I live in this building, smarty pants.”

You raced him up a few flights of stairs until you arrived at your floor. You started down the hall, not looking back to see if he was following. Your breath grew a little shaky as you searched for your key, realizing you were letting this stranger, this hot stranger into your apartment.

You were just going to make him some food, you remind yourself. Maybe if he’s lucky you’ll let him crash on your couch, who knows. You kept telling yourself you had no reason to be this nervous. He’s just a person.

A person with big brown eyes and strong arms. A person who held your hand and laughed at your jokes. A person who willingly followed you to your apartment door from the sketchy bar you brought him to. Oh god, maybe you did have a reason to be nervous.

“It’s a little messy, hope you don’t mind,” you open the door for him, taking off your shoes at the door.

Your apartment was small, but cozy. You and Madison had been living there for almost two years now, and the apartment was well lived in. Funny pictures donned the walls, fuzzy blankets were strewn around the couches, leftovers filled the fridge.

“What’s on the menu?” he asks, reminding you that he’s here for food.

“Hmmm,” you open the pantry, “we have supplies for stir fry, and… stir fry.”

“I think I’ll have the stir fry,” he laughs, comfortably taking a seat at your small kitchen table.

You quickly started gathering ingredients on the counter, preheating the pan.

“Any preferences?” you yell into the next room.

“I’m not picky,” he responds, “thanks again.”

You start chopping up everything in your fridge and toss it into a pan with some leftover rice. It doesn’t take you long to whip up a decent meal, as stir fry was a recurring meal in your life. You glide into the living room, two bowls in hand. He had found your speaker system and taken it upon himself to put on some music, not that you minded.

“Fuck,” he mumbles after a few mouthfuls, “either I’m starving, or you make a mean fried rice.”

“One of my many specialties,” you were glad that he liked it, glad that he seemed so relaxed despite being in a stranger’s home.

“You’re pretty cool, do you know that?” he took you by surprise

“Umm,” you weren’t sure how to respond to the compliment.

“I just haven’t really met anyone nice since moving here. Haz is really the only other person I know,” he says through bites of food, “and meeting random girls at bars isn’t really a decent way to get to know people, not really know them anyways.”

You were flattered that he was being so honest, but part of you wondered if he was buttering you up to try and get into your pants. You had let him pay for your drinks, taken him to a secondary location, and then cooked him dinner at 2 am, he really would have no reason not to believe you wanted to sleep with him. And you did, oh god did you want to sleep with him, but you were still trying to get a read, was he a flirt like this with everyone? Were you just the girl who happened to be in the right seat at the bar at the right time?

This was why you could never follow through with casual bar hookups. Your  mind ran circles around the other person, who they were, where their motivations were coming from. You could never just focus on the fact that you thought he was hot, and you wanted his dick in your mouth.

“Thanks, I guess, you’re kind of cool too,” you avoided eye contact, “but you realize that I am a random girl you met at a bar, right?”

He laughed at your response, finishing his food and taking both of your empty plates into the kitchen. You tried to stop him, but he insisted that you had done the cooking so he would do the dishes, you chose not to argue.

“Yeah but most girls at the bar don’t make me dinner,” he retorts. He had a point, this was kind of an unusual situation you found yourself in. Would this have been easier if you had met him a different way? Rubbed up on him like Madison and Harrison and scurried off to the closest bed? Probably. They were probably already at least two rounds in by now.

“I’ve never taken someone home from the bar before,” oh god, why did you just say that. Why were you being vulnerable and honest, tell him you’re a pro, that you do this all the time.

“Really? I’m surprised,” his tone was nonchalant, so maybe your awkward outburst of truth hadn’t shaken him like you thought it would, “why not?”

“Why not?” you repeat his question to yourself, “I’m just not really good at this kind of stuff, not like you.”

“Are you kidding me?” He turns from the sink to see you leaning against the counter across from him, “You were the one who wined and dined me.”

“I hardly consider stir fry and a vodka mixer to be wining and dining,” you tried to cover up your embarrassment.

“Jeez, then I’d like to experience whatever you consider to be wining and dining, cuz I’m having a great time.”

“What’s your last name?” you ask quickly, suddenly changing the subject

“Holland,” he tells you, “why?”

“I just figured I should know your full name, Tom Holland, if I’m gonna let you sleep in my apartment. You know, in case I have to report you to the police cuz you’ve robbed me or murdered my cat or something.”

“No offense but it doesn’t really look like you have anything worth stealing, and I’m pretty sure you don’t have a cat,” he laughs

“Both true,” you were laughing too. Still in the kitchen, you weren’t sure how to migrate somewhere else.

“You’re sure though? I don’t want to impose. I really can just go find a cheap motel, or go back to my place and crash the orgy that’s probably happening,” he didn’t want to stay if you weren’t comfortable.

“No worries,” you start moving to the living room, “you can make it up to me some other time. I promise you don’t want to be going back to whatever noises are happening in your apartment right now.”

You truly would have been content with him sleeping on the couch, slipping out the next morning, and never speaking again. Well, no. That wasn’t true. You wouldn’t be content, but you’d live with it. You didn’t want to assume anything, didn’t want to make a fool of yourself.

“So,” you start, obviously about to make a fool of yourself, “I can get you some blankets, and you can sleep out here. Or, if you want, we can share my bed. It’s up to you and I won’t be offended either way, I swear.”

Why did you always say things that made you feel so stupid. You winced at your own statement, not wanting to see his reaction. He took a few steps towards you, standing close, but not as close as you would have liked. You continue to look away, waiting for him to say something.

Eyes down on the carpet, you feel his hand grab your chin softly, angling your head up to meet his.

“And when we share your bed,” the breath of his words hitting your face, “are we just going to sleep, or are we...” Although his voice was cool and confident, he was genuinely asking. He had a hard time reading you, and wasn’t sure if you wanted him as badly as he wanted you, or if you were just being nice.

“The second one, definitely the second one,” you reply a little too quickly before he pulls your face to his, lips finally meeting.

His face was warm, and he smiled into the kiss, loving the way your round lips felt on his. He let his hands move to the sides of your face, cradling your jaw as his mouth moved against you. You pulled him closer to you by the grip you had on his t-shirt, the white fabric balled up in your nervous grip. You pulled him backwards with you, navigating your way down the hall.

Taking an intermission on the minute walk down to your bedroom, he presses you up against the wall of the hallway, shoulders angled above yours and mouth still hot against you. You reach your hands towards his, wanting to show him that he had control, that you wanted him to take control of you.

Getting your message, he takes your wrists together in one hand and pins them against the wall above you. His hips jut forward into yours as his wet kisses trail from the corner of your mouth down to your neck.

“Fuck, I-” you moan breathily as he sucks a spot below your ear, your hips rolling forward to meet his. All the while his grip remained tight on your wrists, keeping them steadily pinned above your head. You liked the feeling of letting go, having someone else control the situation. You were generally uptight and liked to take control in other aspects of your life, but this is one that you wanted to submit to.

“You what?” he responds with a steady voice, brown eyes burning holes into you. You knew your face was probably flushed red, hair a complete mess, and neck littered with splotches.

“I want you to fuck me,” you whisper shakily, “Please.”

Letting go of your arms and lifting you up by your thighs in one swift motion, he takes you by surprise as your face falls into his neck.

“This one yours?” he starts walking down to the end of the hall.

“Mhmm,” you mumble as you start to return the favor, licking up and down the base of his neck until you found his sweet spot. Suddenly you were falling back as he playfully tossed you onto your bed, sheets unmade, and blankets bunched up.

You land in a heap, quickly moving to take your shirt off. He moves quicker, practically tackling you down onto the mattress, causing you both to laugh a little.

“Hey,” he protests, “I wanted to do that.” He takes you hands and moves them as he had done before, and lifts your shirt off your body, you arch your back to help.

He slides his arm underneath you, causing your back to stay arched, pressing your chest into his. He slips his tongue back into your mouth, meanwhile he shimmies out of his jeans, letting them fall to the floor with your abandoned shirt.

Something between a gasp and a whimper escapes your lips as his other hand snakes its way into your damp underwear. Your hands lurch up into his hair, pulling his face into yours as he starts to draw slow circles up and down your lips.

He finally slips a finger into you, causing a guttural moan to stir deep in your throat. You bite your lip to hold the noises back, eyes fluttering shut as he slowly pumps into you. His face comes back into focus as he steadies your head, running his thumb across your lower lip, tugging it away from your teeth.

Instinctually you wrap your lips around his finger, letting your tongue drag itself across his digit. You open your mouth up from its pucker, letting him alternate his thumb with his index and middle fingers, letting those slip into your warm mouth as well. You match the movements of his hand in your pussy with your mouth, sucking down on his fingers every time he re-entered you.

“Fuck Y/N,” he groans, his cock throbbing in his boxer briefs, “I didn’t realize you’d be so dirty.”

You grew a little self-conscious at his comment, opening your mouth so he could remove his fingers.

“It’s so fucking sexy,” he drags the pads of his fingers down your tongue. He moves them down and drags the warm wetness from your saliva down your throat and onto your nipples that were now slipped out of the top of your bra.

You buck your hips into his hand and moan, loving the way he was above you, fucking you with his strong hand, fingers much bigger than your own. You felt his pulsing erection pressing into your lower thigh, and groaned at the thought of him filling you up.

“Tommy,” you didn’t mean to use the nickname, but it slipped out, “condoms are in the shoebox in my bedside drawer, if you want to fuck me.”

He removed his fingers from you, bringing them up to his lips to lick them clean. Your eyelids fluttered at the sight, grinding your hips up into his to show him how bad you wanted him. His shirt came off and joined the pile of your clothes that was slowly growing larger on your floor. You expected him to be fit based on his arms, but he was stacked, built, unreal.

He clearly liked the attention, a cocky smile creeping across his face as your mouth hung slightly open, eyes dragging across his perfect body. He tugs on the waistband of your pants, that were mostly slipped off at this point, to signal to you to remove them while he rummaged through your bedside drawer.

You maneuver your way into a comfortable position, now completely naked, head resting back on a pillow. He was taking a little longer than you expected, pushing and prodding things around.

“They should be right there, blue box? Probably unopened?” you chuckle trying to make light of the situation. The smile is wiped clean off your face as soon as you heard a faint buzzing, then it stopped, then it started again. Condom in hand, as well as your purple vibrator, he climbs back on the bed up to you.

“You are dirty,” he says, trying not to laugh, “I fucking knew it.”

“Hey, you were not supposed to find that!” You try to snatch it out of his hand but he pulls away too quickly.

“You told me shoebox in the nightstand! What were you expecting me to find? You have like eight of these!”

“I do not own eight! I own five, and they are all different and special in their own ways!” you argue back, both laughing now as he jokingly pressed the vibrating wand into your side.

“You keep all kinds of fun stuff in there, huh?” he was not going to let it go. So what, you kept a few…personal items in a secret box in your nightstand, condoms included. You didn’t think he would look around and take an inventory. Your lack of finesse with strangers in bars was made up for by your wide array of battery-operated boyfriends. It wasn’t your fault that the online shop you ordered from sent free gifts when you spent over $100…like fuzzy handcuffs and cherry flavored lube.

The two of you laughed for a minute, both in nothing but your underwear. You were laughing, but the idea of him fucking you with one of your toys quickly made a crimson blush flush over your face. 

“Like I said darling,” he drags the vibrator down your stomach to meet your clothed pussy, “you’re fucking sexy.”

Your hips naturally buck up against his touch, arms snaking their way around his neck to pull his face down to yours. His strong fingers, much thicker than your own, re-entered you as he pressed the vibrator firmly against your clit. 

You couldn’t help but moan into his wet mouth as he fucked his fingers into you.

“Please,” you whimper, “fuck, Tom, please fuck me. I need you so bad.”

“Only because you asked so nicely,” he whispers into your ear, somehow making your pussy wetter than it already is. 

He pulls out of you, causing you to groan at the loss of contact. He tosses his boxers off, revealing his rock hard cock that springs up to his lower stomach. You mouth practically started watering at the sight. He pumps his hand a few times and then rolls the condom on.

You manage to move your shaky legs enough to slip your underwear and bra off. You didn’t have the mental capacity to be self conscious about being naked in front of him, because you were far too occupied drooling over his body. 

“How do you want me?” you ask innocently, not meaning to moan out the words as you did. 

“Flip over,” he gestures for you to get on all fours, and your knees got weak at the thought. 

You positioned your ass up in the air, open and ready for him. You let out a sharp breath as he slides the tip of his cock up and down your folds, teasing you before finally pushing inside. He only pushes in part way though, waiting for your reaction. 

“Fuck, Tommy,” you try to roll your hips back onto him, but he firmly grips your ass and keeps you in position. 

“You need to learn how to be patient, pretty girl,” he slowly pulls your hips back to meet his, agonizingly slow but so fucking good at the same time. 

Your eyes began to water because of how good his cock felt pushed all the way into you, you wanted him to move so bad, but he wanted to torture you, make you wait for it. 

“Please, will you please fuck me, I need it,” you sounded so desperate, but you knew he liked it, liked hearing how badly you wanted him. 

He starts moving in and out of you, firm grip on your ass never wavering. Quiet moans left his mouth as he fucked into you, causing your eyes to practically roll into the back of your head. He leans down to place a soft kiss on your shoulder blade, despite how viciously he's pounding into you. His head cranes down to your shoulder, his hand coming up to brush your hair out of your face. 

As his long fingers move your hair behind your ear, you push your head back into his hand, not wanting to lose contact. He tentatively runs his hands up into your hair, taking a soft grip on your roots.

“Is this what you want?” he whispers, “you like it rough?”

“Yes,” you manage to squeak out, “fuck, pull my hair, spank me, do whatever the fuck you want to me, please.”

He took that as a clear green light to yank back on your hair, causing your back to arch more. He keeps fucking you relentlessly, filling the room with sounds of skin slapping against skin. The obscene noises coming from your mouth only encouraged him to fuck you harder, pull your hair harder, grip your hips harder. 

With little warning you feel him suddenly slip out of you, and before you could turn around to ask how he wanted you next, you feel his hands grab tightly to the back of your thighs, keeping you propped up exactly as you are. You feel his hot tongue enter your warm pussy from the back, quickly licking wide stripes up your folds. 

“Holy shit,” your brain could not process the pleasure you were feeling fast enough. 

He starts to feel your thighs shake under his grasp, knowing that you are close. He wanted to make you come, and hard, as a special thank you for inviting him up to your place. And that he did. 

He sucked harshly on your clit, hips tilted all the way back for him, giving him perfect access. You couldn't even articulate to him how good he was making you feel. You were moaning so loud you were worried the neighbors could hear, so you take a fistful of sheets and bury your mouth in them, muffling your sounds. You legs began to violently shake as he lapped up your juices, bringing a harsh slap down onto your ass. Your hips fell to the mattress as soon as he let go. 

He grabs your waist and helps you flip over so you lay flat on your back. He hovers over you, placing a gentle kiss to your lips. You feel his hard cock pressing into your core, begging for entrance. 

“You good?” he asks as your eyes finally focus, your brain coming back down to earth, “do you want to keep going?” he asks genuinely.

“I’m so fucking good,” you bring him down into a more passionate kiss, pressing your hips up into his erection, “I want nothing more than for you to fuck the shit out of me.”

“Thank god, cuz I want to feel that pretty pussy of yours come all over my cock.” 

His words sent shivers down your spine, more so as he pushed back into your sopping wet cunt, finding a quick rhythm fucking into you. He presses your thighs back with his large hands, hitting you at the perfect angle. Your mouth gapes open watching his perfect body thrust into you. How the fuck did you get so lucky? Is this a dream? Possibly. 

You notice a smirk creep onto his face, he raises his eyebrows and gives you a look. 

“You didn’t think I forgot about this, did you?” he grabs the purple vibrator from the side of the bed and flicks the switch on. 

You all but explode as he brings it down to your throbbing clit. The addition of the vibrations to his cock hitting your g-spot perfectly sent you into one of the most body-shaking orgasms of all time. If that wasn’t enough, you open your eyes to see his perfect hand wrapping around your throat, applying exactly the right amount of pressure to your neck.

You can’t say anything other than his name over and over as your walls begin to contract around him. You throw your head back as you see stars. He lets his grip on your neck go and leans down to capture you in a kiss, wanting to connect with you as you reached your peak. 

Making intense eye contact, you watch as he bites his lip, savoring the feeling of you coming undone around him. You frantically bring your hands to the back of his head, tangling them in his messy hair as you come down from possibly the most intense orgasm of your life. 

“Holy fuck baby, feel so good around me, fuck, gonna make me come soon,” he pants between thrusts. 

“Mmmm,” you were still fucked-out from your orgasm, “I want it in my mouth.”

His eyes practically fell out of his head at your comment, lips coming down to attack your breasts that had been wildly bouncing each time he pressed into you. In one swift motion he managed to flip you over. You slide down between his legs and start pumping his cock, not wanting to lose momentum.

You wrap your lips around his head, feeling his shaft twitch under your hand. Swirling your tongue around the tip while quickly jerking him off quickly pushes him over the edge, his come filling your mouth along with your saliva. 

His hips jerk up as he comes, pushing his length further into your throat, but you don’t mind, in fact you kind of like it. You watch his expression as you swallow his come, making big doe eyes at him. You lick your lips a little and crawl back up to meet his face. 

Flopping down next to him, you let your sweaty body fall into rhythm with his deep breaths.    

“I-,” he starts, turning to meet your face, “I don’t even know what to say, that was fucking incredible.”

You turn your head away from him, pretending to act shy. 

“I fucking mean it, you’re perfect.”

Your cheeks actually turn pink at this. You press your head to his chest, telling him you liked it a lot too. More than liked it. 

“I don’t know if this is weird, if I should go…” he starts to move.

“Offer still stands of course,” you grab his hand, wanting to feel his chest against your cheek again, “couch or bed is all yours.”

“Bed please,” he flops back down next to you and lets you tangle up in his arms, “as long as we can do that again in the morning. You have all those fun toys, I need to try them all out on you.” 

The two of you quickly fall asleep, naked and basking in your post sex bliss, a huge smile on your face. 

The next morning you hear keys jangling in the front door. Opening your groggy eyes, you don’t have time to fully wake up and register what is happening before you hear Madison knocking at your door. 

She barges in, wanting to tell you all about her night with Haz. 

“Holy FUCK y/n, I-” she starts before seeing the figure next to you in bed. 

You frantically grab the sheets to cover yourself up and make a wild gesture to tell her to get out. She silently breaks into a huge grin, waving her arms around and pumping her fists in the air. You keep gesturing for her to get out, but she continues to victory dance on your behalf. 

You knew you would never hear the end of this. 

[writhingcreature]

Breathe ~ the Doctor (part 3)

A/n: Sorry that I’m fixating on this series I just? I love this idea a lot lol. Also, I know I posted this on the wrong account but it would literally be like an extra half hour of work to fix this and I am not in the MOOD so I hope y’all can forgive my idiocy lmao

Word Count: 9100+

MASTERLIST

"What are you laughing at?" Y/n demanded, his face going red at Rose's giggles which had not stopped since Y/n had walked in the room.

The blonde shook her head, thoroughly amused it seemed. "You've been around the Doctor too much!" She accused. "Since when do you wear white button up shirts? Long sleeves and collar and all."

Y/n seemed suddenly defensive. "I like it, and I made it my own. See, no jacket, and I roll my sleeves up! With a nice vest, I could pass as a business man at the end of the day, or a farmer, or whatever." He sighed, allowing himself a smile. "Everywhere we go is never we expect to be. How many times have you gone running about in something not fitting for the time we turn up at? No matter where we go, the Doctor always fits in. I thought maybe taking after him would do me some good." He shrugged. "Makes me feel more professional too."

Rose gave a short chuckle once more before letting a long breath out as she looped her arm with Y/n. Y/n didn't know what Casandra had done to their little group, but ever since the trio had parted in that hallway when Y/n had stayed behind with Chip, things had been very different between him, Rose, and the Doctor. Y/n and the Doctor had long since stopped correcting people when they were called a couple. The Doctor and Rose as well. Y/n and Rose though... they'd been friends so long. Two people teetering on an edge they both tried not to fall over, thinking the other person didn't care at all. Yet here they were, secretly in love with each other this whole time. What a pair of fools.

"Well you look good in it, I won't lie. Especially with the sleeves rolled up,"  Rose complimented.

Y/n looked at her, his face colored with amusement but also embarrassment at her kind words. "What is it with men wearing collared button ups, sleeves rolled up, that does it for so many people?"

Shrugging was as much of an answer as Y/n got from Rose, because just then the pair arrived back in the main controls room. Where they were within earshot of the Doctor. The man turned around when they entered, and stopped short when he saw Y/n. "Well you look..." Y/n blushed even harder and Rose looked between the two men before scoffing.

"Oh, you two. Tell him he looks nice Doctor, you look silly like that, not saying how you feel when everyone knows what you're thinking anyway."

The Doctor cleared his throat. "You look very nice, Y/n."

"Thank you, Doctor," Y/n replied.

Rose dropped his arm, moving further into the room to divert attention from the sudden awkwardness. It really didn't make sense. The Doctor had been romantically involved plenty of times, Y/n knew that for fact. Speaking of, Y/n had as well. The Doctor had even been married and had children. That had been ages though... perhaps he was rusty when it came to romance. Maybe it was just Y/n, who was far less experienced and completely clueless how to treat a situation where the rules were not as clear as the feelings they had for each other. They had all this energy, but no idea how to utilize it. Rose, as usual, was the one who seemed to be able to handle it. Perhaps it was that she'd been in several serious relationships, but she always directed that unspoken energy in the right direction, then let it go when it was time. She had perfect timing, actually. It was rather impressive.

"What about my outfit, Doctor? Do you think it'll do?" She asked casually.

As always, the Doctor took the opportunity to change the subject. Y/n wondered passively if things between them would have really gone anywhere without Rose. God, what would they do without her? "The late 1970's?" The Doctor thought aloud, returning Y/n's mind to what was happening now. "You'd be better off in a bin bag. Hold on, listen to this," he added in a rush to cover his rather rude comment.

Rock music began playing suddenly, and everyone's attention turned to that. "I've heard this before. My mum used to listen to it."

Rose looked at Y/n in surprise, but the Doctor knew what it meant to far too casually bring up people one had lost and not want it looked at further, so he was the one who continued the conversation to other things this time. "Ian Dury and the Blockheads," he said with a grin. "Number on in 1979! Your mum had a popular taste, Y/n."

At that Rose got rather bright, her smile so wide that you could hear it when she spoke. "You're a punk!" The Doctor began to sing, and Y/n joined him, both of them grinning at each other as they had their fun with the music. "You both are, I can't believe it. A pair of punks. You, Doctor, are specifically some old punk with a bit of rockabilly thrown in."

"Do you want to go see him?" The Doctor asked, enjoying the banter.

Leaning against one of the rails, Y/n watched the two in quiet amusement as he often did with them. They talked too much for Y/n to keep up with. He was usually at a slower pace than them, and he preferred to watch them go at it anyway. "How do you mean?" Rose asked. "In concert?"

"Well what else is the TARDIS for?" The Doctor pointed out. "Also, Y/n, don't just stand there. You need to be watching me I said, you have to learn what I'm doing and then I'll teach you why I'm doing it and what everything means. You learn by doing I know, but you have to watch first."

Y/n smirked. "Oh don't worry Doctor, I'm watching plenty."

"Oi!" The Doctor pointed a warning finger at Y/n, but his face was not angry as much as it was red like Y/n's had been before. "Behave, you."

"I think not," Y/n disregarded.

"I'm sorry are we ignoring the fact that we might go to a concert in the 1970's? How cool would that be Y/n? I bet your mum would love that."

Y/n darkened a bit. "No, my mum hated crowds. She did like the music though." It wasn't bitter, but thoughtful. The same tone the Doctor used when he talked about his old life, before the Time War. Rose had noticed how similar the men were becoming. More and more very day, and quickly too.

"You know, I can take you anywhere," the Doctor told Y/n. Anywhere in space, but also in time. In the past. We can watch all the greatest moments of history, no problem. We're not just here to fix the world, we could just learn to. Take an easy trip for once."

There was something Y/n had been wanting to see for ages. Ever since Rose had seen her dad, way back when he died and she held him. Back before the Doctor was this man who he was now. He knew he couldn't do it though. Not because he would try and save his parents - he had learned from Rose. No, he just didn't want the Doctor or Rose to see back then. He didn't want them to know. He had been curious though... For so long. He couldn't remember them much, and had forgotten their voices ages ago.

"I'd like a concert," Y/n answered. "What do you think, Rose?"

She gave a small smile, as if she'd seen Y/n's thoughts in that moment but was too polite to call him out. "Ian Durey and the Blockheads it is." The TARDIS jerked when the Doctor began to go, but that was usual. What was not usual, was when the Doctor took a hammer from under the desk and began to slam parts of the control panel with it. Needless to say, when they all landed Y/n was the first one out. He felt annoyed seeing that. Even... a little sick to his stomach. He didn't know why - he'd never been motion sick before. He thought best not to question it.

Not that he wasn't plenty distracted when he and the other two exited the TARDIS to realize they were absolutely not anywhere near a concert being set up in 1979. In fact, they were in-

"1879," the Doctor realized when they were faced with men on horses wearing red coats and cocking guns they pointed into the trio's faces. "Same difference." Y/n glared at him, but the Doctor only winked in response.

"You will explain your presence," one of the armed men demanded. "And the nakedness of this girl." Y/n smirked and as if sensing it, without looking over, Rose elbowed him. Now was not the time to be flaunting how right he had been to dress the way he had, and not the way he usually did.

When the Doctor spoke again, he had a Scottish accent on and Y/n's eyes widened in surprise. Since when could he do that? "Are we in Scotland?"

"How can you be ignorant of that?" The same man spoke again, seeming seconds away of shooting them all. Y/n wasn't concerned for himself... except he had no idea how to explain why the bullets wouldn't kill him. The more pressing matter was definitely the other two though.

The Doctor began to bullshit and Y/n felt his muscles tense. "Oh- I- I'm dazed and confused. I've been chasing this wee naked child over hill and over dale. My partner is usually the navigator, so I trust him to lead the way." The Doctor motioned to Y/n with a head tilt, then looked at Rose. "Isn't that right, you timorous beastie?" He seemed a little hesitant, and Y/n had the thought pass of how fast he'd have to move to cover both of them when the bullets began firing.

Rose only made it worst. "Och, aye. I've been... oot about aboot."

"Please stop," Y/n whispered, shaking his head. Y/n hadn't heard many Scottsmen speak, but after the Doctor's fairly believable go at it, her complete failure was even clear to him.

"Hoots, mon?" Rose tried again.

"No Y/n's right, seriously, stop," the Doctor followed up.

The man on the horse spoke again. "Will you identify yourself, sir?"

"I'm Doctor James McCrimmon from the township of Balamory," the Doctor answered, switching gears again immediately. "I have my credentials if I may?" He moved his hand toward his pocket, drawing out his psychic paper when given the go ahead. He flashed it at the man. "As you can see, a doctorate from the University of Edinburgh." He showed it around willingly, and Y/n felt quite proud of the Doctor's ability to pull off a lie. Not to those who knew him, but when it mattered at least. "I trained under Doctor Bell himself."

Suddenly a woman's voice rang out. "Let them approach."

The uniformed man hesitated. "I don't think that's wise, ma'am."

"Let them approach," the woman demanded again, this time with attitude.

Obviously he didn't want to, but the woman must have been the final say because he finally conceded with, "You will approach the carriage, and show all due deference."

So they approached. The carriage door opened and there sat an older woman who looked rather comfortable in the company of strangers. "Rose, Y/n," the Doctor began. "Might I introduce you to Her Majesty Queen Victoria, Empress of India and Defender of the Faith."

"Oh my god," Y/n whispered, eyes widening. Aliens were one thing, but someone so staple in their own history? That was what tripped Y/n up, out of all the things they'd seen. This was just too close to home. Too hard to separate and look at logically.

Rose handled it better. "Rose Tyler, ma'am," she greeted politely. "And... my apologies, for being so naked."

"I've had five daughters," the Queen dismissed. "It's nothing to me. Who's the young man on the other side of you now, who looks at me as if I've grown three heads?"

This time it was the Doctor who elbowed Y/n. "I-" Y/n cleared his throat. "Y/n, ma'am. Sorry."

She smiled, obviously enjoying herself. "No worries." Her eyes moved to the Doctor. "How about you, Doctor? Why don't you show me those credentials?" He did, handing them over. "Why didn't you say so immediately?" She seemed baffle,d and suddenly Y/n was nervous as to what she'd found. "It states clearly here that you've been appointed by the Lord Provost as my protector."

"Does it?" He looked at Y/n, who shrugged. "Yes he does," he continued, more confident. "Good. Good. Erm, then let me ask, why is Your Majesty travelling by road when there's a train all the way in Aberdeen?"

"A tree on the line," she answered smoothly.

"By accident?" The Doctor pressed.

Queen Victoria seemed to find that question tiresome. "I am the Queen of the United Kingdom of Great Britain and Ireland. Everything around me tends to be planned?"

"An assassination attempt?" The Doctor seemed to be trying to understand something that seemed trivial to Y/n, but he had long since learned to not question the Doctor.

"What seriously?" Rose seemed stunned, just as Y/n was gathering his senses, as if she'd taken it into her to give him a break. "There's people out to kill you?"

"I'm quite used to staring down the barrel of a gun," the Queen reassured, though it wasn't reassuring at all.

The man on the horse from earlier spoke again. "Sir Robert Macleish lives but ten miles hence. We've sent word ahead. He'll shelter us for tonight, then we can reach our destination in the morning."

"This Doctor and his... timorous beastie will come with us." There was humor in her eyes. "As well as the silent one." Y/n ducked his head in embarrassment. The guard, which seemed to be what the man on the horse was, accepted that and then got them all moving again. He made a comment about the coming of nightfall, and Y/n found himself pleasantly surprised when the Queen responded, "Indeed. And there are stories of wolves in these parts. Fanciful tales, intended to scare children, but good for the blood I think." She looked ahead. "Drive on."

They all began walking and Y/n felt himself get awkward with all the guards watching him and he moved closer to the Doctor, nearly reaching out to take the man's hand. And then a few guards gave him a look of startled disgust and Y/n remembered what time they were in and felt a pang in his chest. He had to pretend all over again. The Doctor and Rose could be together wherever they were - whenever - but Y/n had to restrain himself. He dropped behind at the thought, distracting the movement that had been him about to reach out as pushing hair out of his face. It didn't fool the guards who knew what he had been doing anyway, so Y/n dropped back behind the Doctor and Rose. They looked at him but he just looked away, swallowing his awkwardness.

They arrived toward evening. The Queen was helped out as the Master of the house approached. "Your Majesty," the man greeted, bowing deeply.

"Sir Robert," the Queen returned brightly. "My apologies for the emergency. And how is Lady Isobel?"

"She's..." And then he hesitated, and Y/n felt in his gut that same feeling he always got when he felt something was wrong. He found himself questioning whether the man's wife was sick, or something else entirely was going on. "Indisposed, I'm afraid. She's gone to Edinburgh for the season.." He hesitated again, and Y/n felt that same pang. This time he was quite sure something was wrong. "And she's taken the cook with her, the kitchens are barely stocked. I wouldn't blame Your Majesty if you wanted to ride on."

"Not at all," the Queen chuckled. "I've had quite enough carriage exercise, and this is charming, if rustic. It's my first visit to this house. My late husband spoke of it often, the Torchwood Estate."

At that Y/n jerked. "I'm sorry, the what Estate?" Everyone looked at him like he'd gone mad.

"Torchwood," Sir Robert answered. "It was my father's house." The Queen hadn't objected to Y/n cutting in, so the man continued. The way Y/n was looking at him, Sir Robert seemed to see that the man was thinking, and thinking was what he needed in that moment. "It's a very old house you see. Lots of dangers in the old wood. That's why my wife est you see. She's grown tired of the keep up and needed a break. Are you sure you don't want to continue?" The man looked directly into Y/n's eyes and Y/n felt his heart stop. What was he trying to tell him?

"Quite sure," Queen Victoria interrupted. "Now, shall we go inside?" Sir Robert fought a frown when he nodded, seeming to want to run away. The panic in his eyes was so clear to Y/n, he was shocked no one else could see it. Y/n couldn't interrupt the Queen again though - he'd already tested his boundary. They began to go in, Y/n's mind racing as he scanned the Estate, looking for something out of place.

Then his eyes landed on the staff. They were all bald, and staring at Y/n like they wanted to destroy him. The Doctor moved up next to Y/n. "What's wrong?"

"I don't know," Y/n responded. "Yet." Despite how he wanted to stop it, he had no reason other than his gut feeling. What was he to do but be wary if nothing else? So they went inside.

The group headed for a room with what looked to be a gigantic telescope. "And this," the Queen began. "I take it, is the famous endeavor."

"All my father's work," Sir Robert answered. "Built by his hand in his final years. It became something of an obsession. He spent his money on this, rather than caring for the house himself."

"I wish I'd met him, I like him." The Doctor was smiling and Y/n almost rolled his eyes. He'd know all about obsessions overtaking your personal life, wouldn't he? "The thing's beautiful, can I..." He motioned to the telescope.

"Help yourself," Sir Robert allowed.

Rose and the Doctor surged forward to inspect it, but Y/n hung back, slowly dawdling past the butlers who were standing too close to just be there for no reason. The others began to talk, but Y/n focused on them. "You guys follow your Master around a lot, don't you?"

The bald man in front responded. "How else are we to attend to his needs?"

Y/n shrugged. "I suppose that's fair, except didn't Sir Robert say that the kitchens were poorly staffed and understocked? Doesn't it make sense that you'd be cleaning such a large estate, or working in those kitchens which seem to need such work?"

Eyes locked hard, it seemed to be a contest to see who'd blink first. The man was obviously impressed when Y/n won, if still irritated in Y/n's pressing. "Are you disapproving of how I do my job?"

Shrugging casually, Y/n stepped past them finally. "Not my right to do so. That would be Sir Robert's right to say or not say."

"What about me now?" Sir Robert piped up.

"I was just saying that your staff hovering so much surprises me, since you were stating how the kitchens needed some help. I of course don't mean to offend or tell you how to run things, Sir Robert. I..." He hesitated, the lie coming to him too easily. "I come from a rather poor family. I don't know how things like this works, and it fascinates me."

Sir Robert was the only one who saw through the lie - other than Rose, who was paying attention closely now, cued into Y/n's habits that showed when he was suspicious about something. Sir Robert hesitated, as if considering using the excuse to dismiss the men, but then decided against it - that same fear flashing in his eyes again. "I like to have them around. With my wife gone, they keep me company."

Y/n nodded in understanding, but the two men locked eyes and Y/n knew immediately. There was something up here. It seemed too late though. He had no proof and if these men were dangerous enough to control Sir Robert so in his own house, they'd doomed themselves the second they walked in the door. Y/n had to be careful about this - especially because it seemed he's just placed a huge target on his back.

The Doctor spoke, shifting the subject. "It's a bit rubbish." Only then did they all remember the telescope. Even the Queen had been distracted, looking between Sir Robert and Y/n like she was picking up on the signals between the two men, but didn't know what they meant. "How many prisms has it got? Way too many!" The Doctor stood from where he'd been crouched to inspect the instrument before. "The magnification's over the top. That's a stupid kind of..." He turned to Rose. "Am I being rude again?"

"Yep," she confirmed, smiling.

"But it's pretty!" The Doctor continued. "Really, it's very pretty."

Y/n got distracted after that, his mind wandering as he ran through all the possibilities to try and figure out what was happening. He could talk to the Doctor later to get feedback, but he'd at least like to have some theories to throw out when the time came. They weren't aliens, surely. The Doctor seemed to be able to pick up on that sort of thing eventually. If that was the case, Y/n sure wouldn't know. What else could it be.

Someone nudged Y/n and he looked up to see Sir Robert of all people. He had reached out to touch Y/n. "You Doctor seems interested in children's stories and magic and the stars. How do you put up with him?" He was making a joke, but that's not why he had gotten Y/n's attention to tell it.

Smiling came easy. He knew Sir Robert had the answers and that he wanted to tell Y/n. All he could do for now was give hints, and that's all Y/n needed for now. "Stories, eh? I like those myself. What kind of stories."

"One about a wolf around these parts, like I told you about in the carriage," the Queen answered. The fact that Sir Roberts purposefully stayed quiet made Y/n listen more than it seemed he was supposed to. "His father and my husband were quite fond of it, and the Doctor asked him to tell it to us. I'd be lying if I said i wasn't curious myself, actually."

"It's said that-" Sir Roberts began.

"Excuse me, sir." the bald man from earlier interrupted, and when Y/n and Sir Roberts locked eyes again, Y/n looked over carefully, taking in the man, trying to pull secrets out with just a look. "Perhaps Her Majesty's party could go their rooms now. It's almost dark."

"Well that was rude," Y/n spoke up. Again all eyes were on him, and this time the Doctor and Y/n were picking up on the way Y/n and the bald man were glaring at each other, eyes locked. "The Master of the house was talking, and he was just about to tell us something very interesting. Even I wait until people are done talking, and I'm considered insolent." There was tangible tension in the room. Tension that seemed apparent only to those who could pick up on Y/n's small tells, and those who knew first hand that this was not as it appeared."

"Please forgive me, sir," the man apologized flatly. There was a threat in his voice, one that made Y/n go silent - especially when Sir Robert shot him a panicked look. "I only figured that you'd all want to rest before dinner."

Damn, that was a good excuse.

"What a lovely idea," the Queen gleefully spoke. "And some clothes for Miss Tyler, perhaps. Sir Robert, surely your wife left something behind?" The man nodded. "See to it. We shall dine at 7, and talk more of this.. wolf." At that the bald man simmered, and Y/n realized the connection. "After all, there is a full moon tonight."

Y/n's eyes widened. He had to hear this story... though, he didn't think he did have to actually.

The Doctor followed Y/n to his room. "This isn't where you'll be staying Doctor," one of the bald men said.

"I'll find it in a bit, just leave the door open. I need to find my friend." The man dressed as a butler hesitated, but couldn't find a good enough reason to stop this from happening, so he nodded and left. When the door closed behind them and they were safe from those outside, the Doctor rounded on Y/n. "What's going on in that head of yours?"

"The stories they mentioned earlier? They're true, and the men - the bald men - they're in one it. I don't think Sir Robert's wife is even gone off for some weather or old house, I think she's captured. Or dead." He shook his head. "I have no proof, only hunches and small noticings. But I'm telling you, Doctor. A wolf that only comes out on the full moon? The way the man interrupted Sir Robert from sharing the story. I think it's true, and I think it's coming after us tonight." It dawned on him then. "Or... after the Queen. No one else here alive is important, who should be here."

The Doctor considered all of this. "I believe you Y/n, I do. But we need proof, and that means we need to lay low and play innocent. You're brilliant, all you've gathered in such short time. I need you a bit longer before they try to kill you though and everything goes wrong. Do you trust me?" Y/n nodded immediately.

Rather unexpectedly, the Doctor grabbed Y/n's face and pulled him into a kiss then. He stepped backward, pressing his back to the door. Y/n kissed him back instantly, leaning into him. He hesitated, but when the Doctor kept kissing him, he found himself unable to help himself getting lost in it. His fingers threaded into the Doctor's hair and pulled their bodies closer. The Doctor's hands wandered, pulling and tugging on Y/n's shirt.

Just as quickly as it began, the kiss stopped and the Doctor was pushing him away. "Alright." The his voice was a little lower, his eyes blown just a bit. "I've been wanting to do that all day."

Y/n scoffed. "You snogged me like that to, what, blow off steam?"

The Doctor bit his lip, shaking his head before orienting his thoughts again. "I needed a reason to be in here that wouldn't incriminate us. They can suspect you know something, so you keep the attention on you. You're the diversion. While they're worried about you finding out, I'll poke around and see what I can find. They won't expect me because-"

"They'll only think you came in here to snog me," Y/n realized.

"Not a thing you can fake, the results of that. It leaves a nice touch, the blown out eyes and the... the lips." Y/n realized that the Doctor's lips were a little bit more red than usual. "Anyway, pleasure and business mix every once in a while - grand time when it does. See you at dinner."

Y/n rested his forehead on the door when the Doctor left.

What in the world was he going to do with this man?

The smile hadn't left his face when he sat down for dinner, and despite him straightening his shirt, there was still a heat to his face. The Doctor wasn't much better. The affects were missed by everyone who wasn't paying attention, but were picked up by the ones that mattered. The butlers who obviously were not butlers. And the Doctor's planned seemed to work. They immediately dismissed the Doctor and focused their attention on Y/n. He was probably in danger... not that he could die, which would hopefully be the worst thing that could happen tonight.

The man who seemed to be in charge of the bald men stepped forward, speaking as he had when he'd challenged Y/n earlier and lost. "Your companion begs an apology. Her clothing has somewhat delayed her." Y/n's heart stopped. His grip on the table turned his knuckles white.

By some miracle, the Doctor seemed as if he had no worries at all. "Oh, that's alright. Save her a wee bit of ham." Y/n's mind was racing again, his eyes focusing on Sir Robert. The man seemed to be apologetic, but not too sorrowful. Y/n was picking up on the man's emotions quickly as he watched him more and more. He only hoped he was right. Either way, it really didn't matter. Either Rose was trapped and they had time to work this out and save her, or... she was too far past saving to take risks anyway. And if Y/n left this room, he'd be doing it alone, and that would put him in line next to be carted away. The Doctor needed some help at the very least.

"Besides, we're all waiting on Sir Robert!" the Doctor exclaimed, breaking the men out of their stare and grabbing their attention again. "You promised us a tale of nightmares."

"Indeed," Victoria agreed. "Since my husband's death I find myself with more of a taste for supernatural fiction."

"You must miss him," the Doctor vocalized. It was then that Y/n thought back to the first time the Doctor lost someone. His own wife, even. The mother of his children... If anyone understood, it would be him. The Doctor understood loss better than anyone.

As if seeing that understanding in the man across from her, the Queen allowed herself a moment to be vulnerable. It was a very Y/n thing to do. Perhaps... Y/n was influencing the Doctor, the same way the Doctor was influencing Y/n. "Oh, completely." She paused, the air in the room growing heavy with emotion. "And that's the charm of a ghost story, isn't it? Not the scares and chills, that's just for children, but the hope pf some contact with the great beyond. We all want some message from that place. It's the Creator's greatest mystery that we're allowed no such consolation." Her eyes became far away and Y/n looked at his hands. What would he have left behind if he'd never become immortal? What would people leave behind with him, when their time came? That thought. The thought of realizing yet again that he was going to lose one person after the other forever... except the Doctor. They were all the other had left now. The only person they each had a chance of keeping forever. "The dead stay silent, and we must wait." Her voice grew small, and then she shook her head and switched gears to being chipper once more. "Come, begin your tale, Sir Robert. There's a chill in the air. The wind is howling. Tell us of monsters."

Under the table, Y/n let his knuckles rub against the Doctor's hand softly. In response, the brunette man turned his palm upward, allowing Y/n to interlace their fingers. Both relaxed.

"The story goes back three hundred years," Sir Robert began. "Every full moon the howling rings through the valley. Next morning, live stock is found ripped apart and d-" he cut off, that same terrified look crossing his face. "Devoured." Y/n felt his leg twitch.

The head of the guard laughed off the spook in the air by saying, "Oh, tales like this just disguise the work of thieves. Steal a sheep and blame a wolf - simple as that."

Robert was having none of that. "But sometimes a child goes missing," he insisted, pushing it to try and drive his point home. It seemed to be written off as dramatics by everyone else in the room. Everyone except Y/n who was listening intently, and the Doctor, who Y/n knew was listening even though he gave no note of it. "Once in a generation, a boy will vanish from his homestead.

Y/n knew the man holding his hand had questions, but if they were going the route of keeping attention on Y/n, Y/n had to be the one to ask. "Is there anything that tells what this thing looks like?"

"Drawings and wood carvings," Sir Robert affirmed. "And it's not merely a wolf, it's more than that. This is a man who becomes a wolf." He drove each word at Y/n, saying much more than just a story. What had he seen? Risked, to tell Y/n this?

"A werewolf," Y/n voiced, resting his elbows on the table.

"What a neat little story." The Doctor was smiling, shaking his head in the same way the head of the guard was.

"My father didn't treat it as a story," Sir Robert said, but his interest was as invested in convincing the Doctor as the bald men were worried he was someone to worry about. The plan was working, at least. "He said it was fact. He even claimed to have communed with the beast, to have learned its purpose. I should have listened."

The bald man began to move and Y/n went into protective mode. "Of course, it was your father's passion. I'm sure you miss him and wished to have listened more. Engaged with him." Sir Robert half halfheartedly nodded.

"The thing was, his work was hindered. He made enemies." This time Sir Robert focused on Y/n purposefully, eyes boring into Y/n's very soul. "There's a monastery in the Glen of St Catherine. The Brethren opposed my father's investigations."

"Perhaps they thought his work ungodly," the Queen suggested. That was when it clicked for Y/n, his eyes wandering to the bald men. The men who were monks, and who were also mumbling incoherently nonsense in a  foreign language that set Y/n's hair standing up.

"That's what I thought," Sir Robert agreed. "But now I wonder. What if they had a different reason for wanting to keep the story quiet? What if they turned from God and worshiped the wolf?"

"I think..." Y/n drawled, his hand tightening around the Doctor's. "It's time to make a new plan, Doctor. I don't think its going to do any good to play nice."

The Doctor's eyes widened. "Right." He turned around rather sharply, dropping Y/n's hand in favor of moving to his feet. They weren't getting any more information now - they had to find Rose. Chaos broke out, the Queen and the head guard trying to figure out why the Doctor and Y/n were so upset, Sir Robert apologizing because they had his wife, and the Doctor demanding to know where Rose was. There sat Y/n in the middle of it all, trying to be more productive than the confusion and the guilt and the yelling at people who were not going to respond.

"Doctor!" Y/n called, trying to knock sense into him.

The man looked over and he took a deep breath in. "Sir Robert, come on!" The three men took off down the hall. Sir Robert lead the other two to the basement, where a bunch of people were chained up and trying to pull to freedom as a werewolf grew to a dangerous form not even five feet from them.

Rose was so amazing, lord.

"Where have you been?" The blonde demanded.

"I missed you too," Y/n shot back. The joke didn't last long though, because soon they were all distracted by everyone scattering in a grab for freedom. All the women but Rose were rushed to the kitchens and the men all  but Y/n and the Doctor were armed. There was a noise and the Doctor dipped from the room for a moment only to come bolting back, grabbing Rose's hand. She grabbed Y/n's and the train pull got them all out of the room and stay together at the same time. They made it just behind the line of guns just in time for the weapons to go off as the wolf itself turned around the corner in full force.

The Doctor took charge when the thing bolted from the bullets. "All right, you men, we should retreat upstairs. Come with me."

"I'll not retreat," the ground's keeper insisted. "The battle's done. There's no creature on God's earth could survive such an assault."

"You think not?" Y/n demanded, in no mood for people to act afool. He snagged a gun from one of the men, thrusting the thing into the Doctor's hand guiding the end of the barrel to his throat. "Shoot me please, Doctor." Without hesitation, the Doctor obeyed, knowing Y/n would be okay in a few seconds. There were some startled screams and a moment of darkness as Y/n passed out only a few seconds, but then he awoke and men stood around him, stunned. "Like I said," Y/n grumbled as he stood up again. "You think not? That's what I thought, listen to the Doctor now."

Soon they were all heading their way upstairs, just in time for the halls behind them to echo with the thing's roar. "Well at least you're alive," the Doctor reminded as the ground keeper's face grew ashen pale. They ran up, Sir Robert calling the Queen. She was running down the stairs to greet them.

"What's going on?" The older woman demanded. "I heard such horrible noises."

"Ma'am, we've got to get out," Sir Robert urged. "But what of Father Angelo, is he still here?"

The woman hesitated then responded, "Captain Reynolds disposed of him." Sure.

The Doctor, who'd left the room to check the front door, returned just then to deliver only bad news. "The front door is boarded shut. Pardon me, Your Majesty, you'll have to leg it out a window." The group moved to a window, only to get shot at and have it quickly proven that windows were as much not an options as the sealed door was.

"I reckon the monkey-boys want us to stay inside," the Doctor sighed.

"Do they know who I am?" the Queen demanded.

"Yeah," Rose answered. "That's why they want you. The wolf's got you lined up for a... a biting."

The Queen was not having that. "Now stop this talk.  There can't be an actual wolf." Just then a howl broke through the house and Y/n had to bite back a laugh.

In the end, believing or not, they all took off running (after some snarky banter, but that was usual) and were all barely saved as they turned the corner and the wolf almost took them over, just in time for that head guard who Y/n realized he did not know the name of. The man tried to stay behind to give the others time to retreat, but now it was Y/n's turn not to tolerate nonsense.

"Now you listen to me," Y/n snapped with such authority that even the Queen didn't speak and payed attention. "I don't care who you are or what you've done or believe. I've got you all alive this far, and I've got plenty of witnesses that says I will do much better than you will facing down something that will absolutely kill you. Y/n ripped the gun from the man's hand. "Now go!"

"Why are you always staying behind?" Rose demanded, visibly stressed. "Just because you come back to life doesn't mean it won't hurt when that thing slices you up."

Y/n sighed. "It's my shtick, Rose, haven't you realized yet? I'm not good in stress anyway, I'm good for sacrificing myself and dealing with pain and doing the worst bits. You two are the brains, and you'll need as many hands as possible. Go."

"But-" Rose began.

"GO!" Y/n interrupted. "We can talk later."

Rose didn't listen at first. Instead she popped up on her tippy toes and caught Y/n's lips in hers. "You're an amazing man, Y/n." Y/n smiled and they finally all went, leaving Y/n behind like always to face the biggest problem on his own. It only made sense that he'd been given immortality. He was meant for this role. What he'd said had been truth, and everyone knew it. Y/n was the one who took the hardest hits because he could stand them better than anyone else. He was perhaps the only one who could stand them at all. Rose was right too, it didn't stop it from hurting, but he'd rather someone not die to spare him a bit of aching.

Everyone made it into the room, but Rose lingered, and that was why she was the one who got to watch Y/n get ripped apart. The last thing Y/n saw before the world went black and his bones snapped like twigs was the Doctor pulling Rose into the room so Y/n was out of sight.

When Y/n awoke again, he was too afraid to move in case it reawakened the memories of the last time his body had moved. When it had broken and snapped and caved in and his existence had become pain and loss. He just lay there, breathing, alone and cold in the silent darkness. He expected some kind of soreness or stiffness, but neither bothered him. His body was completely healed as if it had never once had anything wrong with it ever.

It was only when he heard a scream that he made his way to his feet, running after it to see what was wrong. As if on cue, there was Sir Robert standing with an ax or a sword or something, facing down that stupid beast. "Okay," Y/n growled, walking up. Sir Robert's eyes went wide. "Yes, I'm still alive. Now get into those doors you idiot, dying for a cause is my job!"

Sir Robert looked at Y/n, reaching out a hand to rest on his shoulder. "There is more to life than dying to protect everyone else, Y/n. You're brave, and amazing, but don't take this from me. I need to atone. I need to-" A roar echoed and the two men turned to see the wolf. Y/n stepped forward, screaming back. The wolf saw Y/n and froze, stunned.Y/n could practically see the thing recalling the memory of killing the man who stood before him now, completely fine.

"You think you will fear nothing," Y/n snarled, hunched over with his lip curled back. He looked quite wolfish himself, and the actual roof in the hallway seemed to take a step back. "Get back. GET BACK!" And by some insanity, the thing obeyed. "You're right, Robert. There is more to life than dying for a cause. You have a wife who cares about you, and I have watched far too many people die. Let me make a difference. Let me be the one who saves lives for once. Please, go inside." Sir Robert hesitated then nodded, stepping away from the door and into the adjacent hallway, out of range of the beast. There was a moment's pause where no one was sure what to do. Then the door behind Y/n opened and a hand wrapped around his arm and he was yanked back. The beast ran after him, whatever spell broken, and then-

Light.

So much light.

Y/n ended up on the ground, curled in a ball away from the light. He was so tired. He didn't ever want to move from that spot. Perhaps he could not negotiate never, but he could claim now. So he closed his eyes and did not move for a very long time. Because he was allowed that, I think. And so did everyone else.

-

When Y/n did move again, it was only to walk out of the estate and across the land they'd crossed what seemed ages ago to make his way back to the TARDIS, leaving the wrapping up to the Doctor and Rose.

He had a long time to himself in the quiet. A very long time. Far too long a time. He leaned against the control panel, hands flat on the controls, eyebrows knit together.

Finally, he spoke.

"I know you gave me his memories," Y/n told the control panel. "I know you were there when Rose was using your power. I felt you. Heard your voice. You told me his story. One that wasn't yours to tell. And now I know his life - his entire life, as if I lived it myself - and I have memories that aren't mine. That don't belong to me. How am I supposed to tell him that? How would I ever expect him to be okay with me knowing EVERYTHING? His life is clearer to me than my own." Y/n sighed, rubbing his face. "I can't die, but I can save people. I can lessen the burden he carries on his shoulders. The way he remembers each and every death and it hurts him. I took that upon myself, you know. And the wait of it all. The weight he must have, knowing that he can save one life and strand me and Rose here, or that he won't be able to save anyone's life ever again.

"Not to mention, he can die! He only regenerates when he's in the process of dying. If someone kills him before he regenerates, that's it. It's over. No more Doctor. For the first time maybe ever, it's not him who had to be afraid of losing someone because they might not live as long as him." Y/n sighed, feeling his heart fall slowly into his stomach. "Not to mention... I'm going to have to say goodbye to Rose someday, aren't I?" He looked up at the TARDIS around him, tears coming to his eyes. "How am I ever going to say goodbye to her now that we...?" His head fell forward as he sighed. After a second his hands tightened into fists as he stared at the floor under his feet. His gaze hardened. "I won't, you hear me? Not for a long time. A REALLY long time. We have so much time left together. She won't die or leave us. Not unless by choice, and I don't think she would leave if given the option. I'm going to protect her. You hear me?" He pushed off the panel, standing tall. "I don't care if I have to die every time we go out. I'm going to protect everyone."

It was a vow he would learn to regret.

-

The TARDIS door opened with two very nervous people entering the box that was bigger on the inside, expecting to see a very upset Y/n. Instead, they were greeted by a wide, brilliant smile and sparkling eyes as the man that had left in the middle of the night and spent all that time alone because Rose and the Doctor had to wrap things up with the Queen, leaned against the control panel like he knew they'd been about to enter. "You guys ready to go?"

Rose was the first one to answer. She wasn't smiling. "Y/n?"

The man turned away from her, beginning to distract himself by running his hands along the switches and buttons he wasn't completely familiar with yet. "That's my name. Where do you want to go this time, Rose? I'm sure you'd be a better person to give suggestions, Doctor, but I could shoot some ideas through history if we wanted to stay on Earth."

There was a moment of quiet where the Doctor and Rose had a silent argument before they stopped just in time for Y/n to finally turn around. "Y/n can we talk?" Rose asked gently, her smile small and soft.

Instantly Y/n was shot with terror. "Uh-" He looked at the TARDIS wall, trying to let the light make the horrible feeling in his chest go away. Had they finally decided he was useless and more a burden than anything and wanted him to go home? Was he too reckless and had upset them? Was he getting annoying, wanting to learn how to drive the TARDIS? Had he been rushing things by trying to be with both of them? Had... had they learned that they liked being together and not with him? "Talk about what?" Y/n finally asked, his gaze finally moving from the wall as he turned his back to them, trying to memorize the TARDIS so that he'd remember her as long as possible when he was gone.

Arms suddenly wrapped around his waist, looping under his arms. A face pressed to his back. He tensed, unsure of what was happening. "I love you."

Y/n was stunned. "I love you too, Rose." Her arms loosened, allowing Y/n to turn around to face, her, unsure of what was on her mind. "But?"

"But nothing," the blonde assured. "You just need to understand... losing you is terrible. And I know that you don't stay dead when you die, but- before you were immortal you were bad enough, but now you don't even try to stay alive anymore. It's really got me worried."

This was even more confusing. "I can't die, Rose."

"Do you want to?" That was the Doctor, and when Y/n looked at him, there was a look in his eyes that made Y/n feel terrible. This man had watched his whole planet and everyone he cared about die. After that, he had lost every friend and sometimes even more. The way he looked at Y/n now was not necessarily fear, because he didn't have to worry about Y/n dying. It was exhaustion. It was the face of a man who was tired watching his loved ones die.

"Of course I don't," Y/n answered honestly. Dying sucked. He hadn't had much experience with the process - the worst he'd had was last night when he'd felt his body shatter and then woken up perfectly fine and in one piece, with the memory still clear in his head. He'd felt insane, which had never happened before. None of his experiences dying had been good, and last night had shown him just how terrible it could be. It had also made him wonder... how far did this go? Could he be vaporized and still return completely fine, or if he was reduced to ashes, would he stay dead? Honestly, he didn't want to find out. Vaporizing looked painful and he didn't want that in his head. Not like he had the feeling of teeth ripping his chest and stomach into shreds ingrained in his brain with a clarity that still had him unsettled.

The Doctor pursed his lips. "Why did you?"

Y/n scoffed. "What, you're mad that I died when I did it to save all those people, knowing I would come back?"

That seemed to bother both of them. "We both watched you die last night, Y/n. In really unpleasant ways," Rose said softly, her hand stroking his chest comfortingly, as if to calm him down. He would be lying if he said it didn't work even a little. "You had the Doctor shoot you for goodness sake."

"He did it," Y/n reasoned weakly. "I-" He swallowed. "I didn't think it bothered you. I came back."

"I thought so too," the Doctor agreed. "That's why I did it." There was a short pause where the two men looked at each other, and Y/n was suddenly glad he could only see the Doctor's past feelings and thoughts, and not what was going through the Timelord's head now. "Then I watched you bleed out on that floor, and it was very real and you were very dead, and I have that memory now." He shrugged, obviously as uncomfortable with the conversation as Y/n was.

Y/n wondered absently how long Rose had taken to talk him into doing this at all.

"I'm going to be okay," Y/n reassured.

Something odd happened then. They were still looking at each other when they were hit by the same memory, almost watching it be recalled in the other person's mind. Somehow, that made it even harder to bare.

"I'm going to be okay, Dad, don't worry."

There was terror in every part of my... his body. I knew it more clearly than ever now, even though I also knew that I was seeing it from his eyes. The last time he was a dad with his kid. I was seeing it from his eyes so I knew that it was... both of our bodies, I guess. Just for a moment. For that memory, I allowed myself to make it personal. I allowed myself to become the Doctor, staring at his kid and hoping with ever fiber in his being that they would see each other again when it came time.

"We both will be." The woman smiled, hand reaching out to touch... my face. Her smile was warm and soft and compassionate. The same fear coursing through me, reflected in her eyes. They'd already lost so much. How much more could they all handle?

Y/n looked away, but he didn't miss the bewildered expression on the Doctor's face. "I'm sorry," he whispered. "I just... want to be useful, I guess."

Rose's hands gripped Y/n's face, forcing the man to look at her when she spoke to him. "You don't need to be useful, Y/n. You are, don't get me wrong, but that's not why you're here. You're here because you're apart of us, and we care about you, and that is plenty enough. You're here because you chose to be here and then kept choosing to be here despite everything. THAT is the only reason you're here, do you understand me?" After a second, Y/n nodded. "I know you feel obligated to save people, just... please, you're important too. Even if you come back, it's going to start taking its toll on you eventually. Remember that."

Y/n allowed himself to relax into her touch. He looked into her eyes and saw the woman he never met. The care in her eyes matched Rose's, as much as the determination and care. They didn't really look alike, but their love was the same, as it was the same for everyone who felt it - one way or another. "Okay." He smiled, and Rose relaxed. "Is this you asking me not to die?"

Rose chuckled, shaking her head. "I never thought I'd have to ask that of you honestly." She shook her head, her hands dropping. "But no. Just... care about yourself as much as you care about other people. You're important too. That's all I'm asking. Just because you can do something, doesn't mean you should."

That was fair.

"Now," the Doctor said, drawing the attention of the other two. "We have adventuring to do. Any suggestions?" Rose and Y/n parted so Y/n could join the Doctor at the control panel. Rose leaned against the wall across from them, crossing her arms and smiling. She looked at lot happier now. Y/n realized she'd probably been terrified of seeing Y/n die again, carrying a weight with that fear that had drug her down enough that now, she felt light enough to have a bounce in her step. She recognized that it was going to happen again, but at the very least it wouldn't happen often, like it had been.

"You pick," Y/n sighed. "I think you deserve a turn."

The Doctor's face began to light up with a smile. "So be it."

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