#Y/N has been in the mirror for a little over a century.

[neochan]

DESIRE (M) — PART ONE

he wants you. you want jeno. desire is a jealous little thing, isn't it y/n?

PAIRING. slytherin!haechan x hufflepuff!reader ft. gryffindor!jeno

WC. 12.1k

GENRE. harry potter au!, smut

WARNINGS. cursing, drinking, depictions of breaking a bone, solo male smut, haechan is sort of a perv in one (1) scene, oral male receiving, just really sloppy head <3, haechan does fuck someone in detail and he's mean abt it, but it's not y/n (oops spoiler of sorts), blonde!haechan, he's not a good person, so don't expect him to be. he's a big ole meanie with a longtime crush on reader.

A.N. this has been in the drafts for like three years. i want it out, so i'm splitting it into two parts :)

The Mirror of Erised - The mirror shows the most desperate desire of a person's heart, a vision that has been known to drive men mad.

He loves you.

But he fucking hates it.

First year he was holding hands with you, sitting next to your huddled body on the train, and later sharing a meal in the great hall. Second year he saw you clinging onto him as he flew you over the quidditch field. Third year he watched the both of you sneak out to explore the restricted section in the library and run around the castle late at night. Fourth year he saw you in a beautiful dress as he took you to the yule ball. Fifth year he was kissing you on the astronomy tower. Sixth year you went down on him, and all he could do was watch and pretend that his hand was your mouth.

Now it’s seventh year.

Though the actions changed, it was always you he saw in the mirror, and he fucking hated it. Ever since first year, when all he knew was that you were cute and funny, there you were, taunting and teasing him in that godforsaken mirror.

And yet, he always comes back to sit and watch. 

Just like tonight.

The train only arrived an hour ago, but instead of filing into the great hall to see which house the first years would be sorted into, he’s sitting on the floor in the room of requirement, back against a dusty chest of drawers, and eyes narrowed down to slits as he watches the scene unfold in the mirror before him.

It always starts with you appearing out of thin air. You’re wearing your house colors – a small grey skirt, barely covering the swell of your ass and a yellow button up. You’re rid of the required tie, but only for a second, only until Haechan shows up to stand behind you in the mirror with it stretched between his fists.

He shifts in his place on the ground. It wasn’t real, but lord have mercy, he wished it were.

In the mirror he watches himself loop the tie around your wrists, which were set behind your back. You were so beautiful, smiling up at him with those luminous eyes, and your lips parted in a sinful smile.

Under his robes, his hand inches across the flat of his stomach, towards the growing bulge in his pants. It was becoming hotter in the room, almost stifling, but if someone were to come in, he couldn’t be caught half naked. He’d have to get by fully clothed. 

God, he despised the way you made him feel; so desperate for any sort of friction, anything to help relieve himself of the aching lust he felt in the pit of his stomach.

When his reflection is done tying your wrists together, a desk appears. He recognizes it as the one from potions class. His mouth drops open in an O as he watches himself back you up, so you were sandwiched between the desk and his broad chest.

His hand disappears under your skirt, and he could only imagine what his reflection was doing. Could only imagine how good you probably felt clenching around his fingers, gasping at his touch. Feeling pleasure because of him.

Your body arches against his, head dropping down to rest on his shoulder. He watches his lips move against your ear, but he couldn’t hear what he was saying.

Biggest fucking curse of the century.

Stupid mirror should come with speakers, he thinks.

It was becoming increasingly more difficult to keep his composure, skin slick with sweat, and hands buzzing with the temptation to touch himself.

Fuck you, y/l/n

He watches as his mirror persona spins you around and pushes you flat against the desk, yanking your skirt up around your waist to bare your glistening pussy.

It’s never been this explicit, and he can’t help himself. Tentative fingers wrap around his cock. He throws his head back and hisses between his teeth; it felt too fucking good. His eyes snap open. There was no way he was going to miss the rest of the show, not when it was just getting good.

In the mirror, his cock replaces his fingers. He watches himself inch his way into you slowly. Watches your mouth loll open, eyes glazed over. You were already fucked out and he had barely started.

Haechans hands stroke himself under his robes as he watches the scene in front of him. He was having a hard time keeping his hips still, bucking up into his fist. He softly groans to himself when he sees his reflection grab your tied hands and pull back, fucking himself into you faster.

It was so unfair, so embarrassing, that he had to resort to getting off in front of a mirror displaying his deepest fantasy. It was so unfair that it was always you.

So Haechan sits there, watching the mirrored version of himself completely ruin you, while trying to pretend that his hand is your dripping cunt. He sits there thinking of all the things he would do to you if you would give him the time of day.

Fuck you y/n.

The first years had already been sorted by the time he arrived. In fact, dinner was almost over.

He makes his way to the Slytherin table where his friends were loudly joking. Renjun was the first to notice when he sat down and slides him a half-eaten piece of pie.

“Where were you?”

Through a mouthful of blueberry pie, Haechan acknowledges him, “I had to take care of some things.”

He shuts the discussion down quick. No need for them to know he shoved in a dusty room with his cock in his fist, and his mind full of you.

Speaking of which...

His eyes scan the great hall till he sees you sitting with your roommates, Jihyo and Mina. He almost chokes on the next bite when he realizes you were wearing the same outfit you had on in the mirror.

“Fucking hell man, don’t die,” Chenle slides him a glass of water, “We thought we were gonna have to sneak you some food back to the dorms.”

He gulps down the water and taps the glass with his ring clad pointer finger, automatically refilling it. The silver metal makes a tink sound against the glass. “Well, like I said, I had some things to take care of.”

Why the fuck did his friends have to be so damn nosy. A guy couldn't disappear for an hour?

“And was Y/N one of those things?” Chenle snorts.

The rest of the table bursts into laughter, louder than the entire great hall combined, and it makes you peek your head in their direction. Haechan drops his gaze away from you, grabs a stray spoon and chucks it at Chenle, hitting him square in the chest, “Shut up.”

“Dude, we all know you've been sweet on her since, what, first year?” Renjun snickers.

Chenle wipes the gunk that splattered off the spoon from his robes, ‘Yeah, we’re not blind man. I mean, she might be, but not us.”

"Sweet on her? What the fuck is this Renjun, the nineteen-fifties?" Haechan doesn't do anything but scowl. He hates how his friends knew. Hell, pretty much all Slytherins that knew him, knew.

His eyes flick up and catch yours. A soft smile forms on your lips, and he returns it. He hand twitched up for a wave, but Jeno, the infamous Gryffindor Seeker, sits beside you and steals your attention away.

“Ah look, now you’re too late.”

“Could’ve had a chance dude.”

Haechan turns to his friends and gives them a death stare, “Next word out of you guys and I’m gonna stuff the rest of this pie down your fucking throats.”

With a roll of their eyes, they turn their heads and start to talk amongst themselves about the new school year. Haechan can’t immerse himself in such conversation. His attention is pointed solely on you and the kiss ass that was Lee Jeno.

One of his arms sat slung around your shoulders, his face dangerously close to yours, but for some reason, you weren’t pushing him away, you were laughing.

Why weren’t you pushing him away?

Something in Haechan snaps when he watches Jeno lean his forehead against yours, both of you sharing wide smiles. It’s as if his heart was set on fire, the heat threading itself through his body and taking home in his hands. Oh, how he wanted to go punch that smile right off of Jeno’s lips. Smash his fist in his face and leave a nice mark, bloody broken gums bleeding.

Bet he wouldn’t smile at you then.

Haechan knows it’s insane. He does, but he quite honestly doesn’t give a single broom-flying fuck.

With determination, Haechan stood, pushing his chair back, and ignoring the calls from his friends. Everybody he walks past is enjoying their first-day-back meals, but Haechan has something else on his mind.

He walks by your table, hearing the pretty lilt of your voice chatting away with your friends as Jeno hangs off your side. Haechan’s tongue pokes his cheek in jealousy, but he walks right past without a word, no matter how much his brain is screaming at him to just hit Jeno.

Making it to the doors that seal off the great hall from the main corridor, he draws his wand out from his robes and flicks his wrist.

“Aguamenti”

A jet of clear water shoots out from the tip of his wand and smacks the side of Jenos head, effectively drenching him from head to toe.

Haechan stays for a split second, just to watch you and your friends erupt in a fit of giggles while Jeno picks at his wet robes.

He smiles triumphantly before slipping out into the hallway and sprinting to the Slytherin dormitory.

Haechan 1, Jeno 0

The first night back at Hogwarts; The first night back home.

You and your dormmates lounge in the common room and stare into the fire whilst making small talk. It had been a while since seeing them, but you had kept in touch out in the muggle world.

Jihyo hung her head over the arm of the couch, the rest of her body sprawled out and cozily covered with a blanket, attempting to toss popcorn in the air and catch it in her mouth. Her success rate, however, left the floor scattered with smashed pieces and kernels.

Mina sat on the end of the couch with Jihyo's feet in her lap, occasionally contributing to the conversation but mostly engrossed in her textbooks. It wasn't even the first day of actual classes, yet here she was, staying ahead. If you didn't know her kind nature, you'd think she belonged in Ravenclaw.

You were slung in the other chair opposite of them, fiddling with your wand. The end was slightly cracked from where you had accidentally stepped on it one day and it was worrying you. The last thing you needed right now was another trip to Olivanders.

“I’m just saying Y/N, I think Jeno really does like you!” Jihyo insisted, throwing another piece of popcorn in the air only to get hit in the face with it seconds later.

Mina snorts without looking up and Jihyo makes a face at her that she doesn’t see but leaves you giggling. You twist your wand around your fingers, something you learned back in second year, “Well if he does, he hasn’t said anything.”

Mina hums in agreement but Jihyo thinks differently, “He wouldn’t have offered to take you broom flying after hours if he didn’t like you.”

Shrugging your shoulders you turn to the fire, the burning warmth spreading over your chest. “Maybe he just wants some pussy.”

“Well, you better take the chance before I do. He can show me his broomstick anytime.” She winks in your direction sending you into a giggle fit. Mina rolls her eyes but continues reading her textbook. The both of you were used to Jihyos sexual jokes, but they never failed to make you laugh and Mina cringe.

A brief silence passed before you spoke, “Okay, but you have to agree, whoever splashed him at dinner tonight has it coming.”

“What do you mean whoever it was?” Mina piped up, giving you an inquisitive look.

“I didn’t see who it was, did y’all?” you asked, mildly confused. The water had seemingly come out of nowhere, and everyone around Jeno had denied responsibility. With everyone denying it, you suspected it might have been one of the lingering spirits.

“Are you kidding me, Y/N? He couldn’t have been any more obvious,” Jihyo said incredulously, sitting up to look straight at you, abandoning her bag of popcorn.

Were you supposed to have known who the culprit was? You were too busy watching Jeno splutter and gasp to have paid much attention to your surroundings. One thing she said caught your attention, “He?”

“Haechan? Lee Donghyuck?” Mina says slowly.

Jihyo chimed in, “He was walking toward our table all angry, and then when he made it to the doors, he turned around and used the Aguamenti spell.” Your mouth dropped open with every word she said, “Don’t tell me you didn’t notice?!”

“I didn’t!” you argue defensively.

“Oh, and before that, he was staring at you.” Mina added, closing her textbook and standing up, dumping Jihyo's feet on the ground.

“I knew he was staring.” You say, chewing on your bottom lip, “Are you guys for sure he was the one?”

“I’m telling you,” Jihyo starts, “We both saw him.”

Emotions bubble in your chest. You were pissed off for sure. Who did Haechan think he was getting in your business like that, especially given the history, or lack thereof.

Ever since you met the Slytherin boy, he had despised you. There was something about you that completely irritated him, and no matter how hard you tried, he just wouldn’t be your friend. He wouldn’t even talk to you, only stare and mess with your relationships. Every time you were getting close with a boy, he would get in the way, first with Mark and now Jeno? This was becoming an issue, and one that you needed to correct soon.

“I’m heading to bed.” Mina says, waving goodbye and heading off to her room.

You and Jihyo are left to stare at each other. She narrows her eyes down to slits, “Don’t get any ideas.”

“I’m not,” you spun the wand faster around your fingers, twisting and spinning it until it dropped into your palm, “I’m just going to remind him who the hell I am.”

“That’s not very Hufflepuff of you.” she giggles, reaching for more popcorn and shoving it in her mouth.

Your grip your wand tightly, “Hufflepuff or not, Lee Donghyuck needs to learn who he’s fucking with.”

As you pondered your next move, Jihyo leaned back and said, "You know, a well-placed hex might jog his memory."

"No. Not a hex. He get's one warning. His only warning."

Haechan knew you were after him.

The past couple days consisted of him dodging your every attempt at waving him down. After classes dismissed, he was up and out the door in the blink of an eye, he never showed his face at the great hall, and when you caught sight of him during his quidditch practice, he disappeared while everyone else headed to the locker rooms.

Three days after the water incident, you catch him.

The professor asked him to stay back after class, supposedly to discuss his recent test scores. So, when the bell rang, you lingered outside the classroom door. A couple of minutes later, Haechan emerged, his blonde hair paired with a scowl etched onto his face. He made a beeline in the opposite direction, but you had other plans.

“Lee Donghyuck!” you shout, attracting stares from the other students milling about the corridor. You scurry over to him and tug his arm, his eyes shooting down to where you made contact “We need to talk.”

He glanced around, ensuring no one was watching, and cleared his throat. "To what do I owe the pleasure?"

The threats you had rehearsed - the biting warnings you promised Jihyo you'd give him...they all catch in the back of your throat when you look up and make eye contact. It was almost condescending the way he looked down at you, without even saying anything, he made you feel small.

"I—um, I want you to leave me and Jeno alone," you managed to say, attempting confidence but knowing there was little force behind the words.

He knew it too.

His eyebrows shoot up, “I’m sorry darling, I’m not quite sure what you mean.”

Oh, how good he was at feigning innocence.

Too bad you knew he was a big fat fucking liar, “The whole Aguamenti spell you did the other night in the great hall? Yeah, I know it was you.”

His jaw clenches and he reaches for his wand to twirl around his finger – something he did when he was nervous. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“Bullshit Haechan. Me and my friends saw you do it.”

As more people stared at the confrontation in the middle of the hallway, you considered finding a more private place, but you knew he wouldn't follow.

“What do you want me to say? I’m telling you I didn’t do it.” his voice is a low growl, his demeanor darkening and body slightly leaning towards your own. You wouldn’t be surprised if the next words out of his mouth were, ‘now get lost you little freak’.

Deciding to stand your ground, you stared up at him defiantly. However, instead of backing down, he laughed straight in your face, deflating any hope of setting him straight.

“Good one, Hufflepuff.” With a roll of his eyes, he palms his wand in thought. How could a girl like you go for a guy like Jeno? Didn’t you know he was an asshole?

Speak of the devil, he thinks.

A heavy arm wrapped around your shoulders, accompanied by a sweet and cheery voice. "Y/N! Just the girl I needed to see." Jeno's crescent eyes and beaming smile were inches from yours.

Haechan rolls his eyes and crosses his arms over his chest. He needs to leave; He should leave, but his feet don’t move when he tries. It felt like he was under a spell.

Yeah, if jealousy was a fucking spell, the thought bitterly.

“I hope you don’t mind me talking to your girl.” Jeno acknowledges Haechan and playfully punches him in the shoulder. The older boy just sneers.

“Oh, I’m not his girl” you declared adamantly.

A derisive scoff rumbles in the depths of Haechan's throat, and a fit of coughing seizes him, forcing him to double over.

“Careful there buddy.” Jeno smirks, harshly slapping Haechan’s back as way to help him catch his breath.  

When the older boy straightens up, a look of pure hatred crosses his eyes and you giggle, “I’m fine, buddy.”

Jeno looks from left to right confused at Haechan’s hostility, but shakes it off and turns to you instead, “I wanted to invite you to the Quidditch game tomorrow night.” A ‘no’ forms on your lips but Jeno is quick to shut it down, “Look… I’ll play better if you’re there. You can be my good luck charm!”

A fake gag sounds from the back of Haechans throat and you stare daggers into him until he throws two hands up and takes a step back.

You turned to Jeno with the intention of declining, citing the need for studying, but his trademark smile was plastered on his lips. Wasn't the point of this conversation with Haechan to be something with Jeno someday?

“I’ll go.” You smile, and Jeno's face lights up like a kid on Christmas.

One second, you were on the ground, and the next, you were in Jeno's strong arms, spinning around. "Yes! You won't regret this, Y/N! You can even wear my jersey if you want!"

He slows down and sets you back on your feet, your head slightly spinning, “Jeno… you do realize you’ll need your jersey on the field.”

“Oh right.” He scratches the back of his neck sheepishly. “Didn’t think of that.”

Haechan makes an unamused snort, and you notice his hands are balled into fists at his side.

How could Jeno do that right in front of his face?

“I guess it’s the thought that counts.” Haechan spits, and turns on his heel, robes flying behind him as he hurriedly walks away.

“Wait! We still have to talk!” you shout after him, but he doesn’t acknowledge it, just keeps walking until he rounds a corner and disappears.

Why did he have something against Jeno? He hated you anyways. Was his job to make you miserable your entire Hogwarts life? Why was he always in your business?

Jeno startles you out of your thoughts, “Come on, I’ll walk you to class.”

A smile formed on your lips, and you murmured an 'okay' as Jeno looped your arm in his. Unfortunately, Haechan was long gone, along with any hope of setting him straight.

Hopefully he got the message, you think.

It’s the last thought of him before Jeno is tugging on your arm and walking you to class, the smell of cinnamon on his robes and his jovial tone taking home in your head and root in your heart.  

He can’t stomach the sight of her face, but that doesn’t stop him from fucking her.

Who was she? He didn’t know, and he didn’t care. She was wet enough and that was all that mattered. Thrusting into her sopping cunt was what she was here for, nothing more, nothing less.

His mind drifts while he pounds into her, the image of Jeno dragging you away, his arm slung over your shoulders driving Haechan to fuck harder. The girl hollers in pain but doesn’t tell him to stop, just grits her face and bears it, and he doesn’t check to see if she’s okay.

She said she wanted him to fuck her, so that’s what he was doing.

“Hy-hyuck.” She whimpers, fingers digging into his dark green sheets.

A harsh smack lands on her ass, “What, can’t take it Y/ -”

He stops himself before finishing your name. How stupid could he be. This wasn’t you; this could never be you.

Whoever the girl was, she doesn’t notice, too rung up on his cock pushing into her over and over again to understand that he didn’t give a single fuck about her.

Poor girl.

Her legs start to shake, an overwhelming orgasm washing over her right before Haechan pulls out and rolls off the bed, hastily putting on his pants. She’s left to catch her breath on his bed, peering at him from between parted fingers, “You didn’t finish.”

“Don’t need to.” He throws his sweater over his head and starts to fix his tie, “Here.” He picks her yellow robes off the floor and tosses them onto the bed next to her.

“Let me suck you off or something.”

His response is instantaneoous, “I’m good.”

Her voice is soft when she speaks up again, “It’s because of that girl isn’t it… the one in my house, Y/N?”

Was it obvious to everyone else but you? This random fucking girl knew, but you couldn’t catch on? Fucking ridiculous.

His eyes narrow down to slits, “I got to get to class. You better be gone when I get back.”

The door slams behind him, the echo being the only indication he was there in the first place.

Robes askew and papers flying out of your hands, you rush into potions class at the last possible second.

Jeno is already seated at your shared table, something that’s become normal these last few weeks. Out of the corner of your eye, you take note of Hyuck slumped over a piece of paper, furiously scribbling—probably homework.

Thankfully, the professor nods you off without issuing you a detention slip.

Slamming your books on the flat black table, you hop onto your stool.

“Thought you weren’t gonna show y/l/n” Jeno’s smile stretches from ear to ear, his fingers twirling a quill between them.

“I may not be a Ravenclaw, but I’d never miss a class.”

“Couldn’t bear to miss me?” His flirtatious comments always make your heart skip a beat. Your pulse becomes increasingly erratic, face flushed. A snort sounds from behind you, and when you swivel around, you see Haechan’s face adorned with a sneer. He doesn’t deserve a response from you, no matter how much you want to flip him off.

You turn back around, “I guess I couldn’t…” The blush on Jeno’s face is unmistakable and it warms your heart.

From the front of the room, the professor claps his hands, “Alright class, today we will be doing something I’m sure you’ve done before.”

“Please don’t say truth potion.” You mutter under your breath.

“Not quite, Ms. y/l/n. Today we’ll be brewing amortentia potions! All your ingredients should be in the back of the classroom, gather them and begin brewing! The instructions are on page 287 of your textbook! The first group to accurately brew their potion gets five points on the chapter quiz this week.”

The professor calling you out would be enough to send you into an embarrassed state of tucking your chin against your chest and keeping your head down for the rest of the class, but the mention of extra points on the quiz has you leaping up off the stool and waltzing to the back of the classroom.

Jeno doesn’t even have time to say anything. You’ve never done this potion before, but you know the ingredients by heart, just waiting for the day you get to brew it.

You make it to the ingredients table first, followed by Haechan, who’s furiously flipping through his textbook, trying to find the ingredient list. When he notices your empty hands, he narrows his eyes, “Don’t you need to know what to put in the potion?”

Grabbing various vials and jars of dried leaves, you snort, “Don’t need to. Jealous I know it by heart?”

His eyes slide to yours while he follows your lead and picks up a jar of blue rose petals, “Me? Jealous? Yeah right. That’ll be you when me and Chenle win the extra points.”

“Don’t count on it Hyuck.”

The nickname has him tensing, knuckles going white when he accidentally grips a vial of milky substance too hard. He puts it under his arm and reaches for another vial. Coincidentally, you were reaching for the same one, both of your hands brushing against each other's. Neither of you is hasty in withdrawing.

His Adam's apple bobs in his throat, nervousness flitting across his brow. Before you can make note, he clamps down, and his expression goes stoic again.

Heat pools in your stomach. A sickeningly sweet feeling that leaves you confused when Haechan plucks the vial away and whips around, his robes fluttering out behind his body.

Other students begin crowding the table, so you grab a different vial, the interaction leaving you all too confused.

When you get back to the table, Jeno has already begun heating the cauldron.

The ingredients spill from your hands.

“Have you ever done this before?” Jeno asks, “You didn’t even need the textbook.”

Your voice comes out mumbled, “No. I just know it by heart.”

His own textbook is splayed out in front of him, one finger rubbing down the page to read the ingredients list. Why don’t his hands make you feel like that? Sure, it makes you feel all cozy inside, but it isn’t… hot like that. There;s no heat when Jeno walks hand-in-hand with you in the hallway. Why?

“… petals.”

His voice peeks through your thoughts that were flitting around your skull at a million miles an hour.

“Huh?”

“Why did you grab blue rose petals? It doesn’t say we need them in the book.” He teeters on the edge of his seat as if he wanted to take them back to the ingredients table at the back of the room.

A smirk plays on the edge of your lips, “Haechan was copying what I was grabbing, so to trip him up, I grabbed those. Hopefully, he doesn’t pay close attention to the textbook like you…”

Jeno laughs, “Never would have struck you as the type Y/N.”

“What, too much of a Slytherin thing?” You bite back.

“No…No, I like it. It makes you… I don’t know… hot?”

Your eyes go wide, a laugh sticking in your throat. You cough it up and turn to the spread of ingredients in front of you, “Let's, uh… let’s start so we can get those extra credit points.”

Jeno turns around and so do you.

What you don’t notice is Haechan, who had become immensely interested in your conversation after hearing the word Slytherin leave your lips. The jealousy flickering through his nerves is hotter than the boiling substance in front of him. Oh, how he wishes this was Defense Against the Dark Arts.

He’d love to put Jeno flat on his ass.

You and Jeno effortlessly master the brewing of amortentia in just twelve minutes, a symphony of perfectly blended scents swirling in your cauldron.

Chenle and Haechan shoot you annoyed glances as their potion turns into a goopy, blue disaster, nowhere close to the enchanting pink hue of yours.

The professor strides over, congratulating the two of you with a smile. He hands each of you golden slips of paper, designating you as the undisputed masters of amortentia potion-making.

Haechan stands with arms crossed, bitterness etched across his face as he joins the students gathered around your table. His jaw clenches when he witnesses Jeno pulling you into a snug side hug.

“Alright! As the first pair to get the potion right, you get the pleasure of telling us what you smell.

Fuck.

His jaw unclenches and instead is replaced by a shit-eating grin.

“W-What?”

Other students nervously chuckle, eager to see if Jeno, the star of Gryffindors quidditch team, would possibly smell their scent.

“I’ll go first y/n. Don’t sweat it.”

Carefully, Jeno leans over the cauldron and lets the steam waft up into his face. He takes a sniff. Another one. Another one. And finally a deep inhale.

“It’s smells like cherries… um, vanilla, I think… and, sweets? Like baked sweets?”

The professor applauds, “Good! Sounds like someone's after a Hufflepuff!”

All eyes turn to you. It's true, the Hufflepuff dormitory is adjacent to the kitchens, but why must everyone assume? Why must it be you?

The professor continues, “You next Y/N!”

Haechans doe eyes follow your figure closely, drinking in the way you lean over the cauldon, the top button on your blouse having come undone, breasts peaking through the top. He feels like a pervert, but he can’t help the stiffness rising in his slacks.

He should’ve had that girl suck him off.

You sniff one, twice, and a third time. Haechan watches as the blood drains from your face.

Why couldn’t it be cinnamon and firewood? Why not something to complement Jeno? It had to be that.

“I smell apples… and, and, um, caramel, and qu-quidditch gear.”

You don’t even have time to assess Jeno or Haechans faces. Jeno knew it was Haechan’s scent. Haechan knew it was his scent. Everyone knew. How could they not? Slytherins best asshole was known for smelling like caramel apples.

Fuck.

Your eyes are downcast, contemplating whether or not to do that chin tuck.

“Alright! Who’s next?”

“It’s not like it’s our house that’s playing.”

Slumped on the common room couch and stuffing your face with leftover popcorn (thanks Jihyo), your argument doesn’t come across as very convincing – to yourself, or Mina, who stands in front of you with her hands on her hips. “And anyways,” you raise a skeptical eyebrow, “Don’t you have to study or something. You’re not one for quidditch games.”

She reaches for you, snatching the snack bowl out of your hand and plopping it down on the coffee table. “I’m two weeks ahead in every single class. I can afford to skip a day of studying.”

For a moment, you shoot her a glare, sensing there's more to it. “Jihyo put you up to this, didn’t she?”

“Why do you say that.”

“Because I know her.”

“Okay, yes.” She sits down next to you, grabbing your hands. “But come on! Jeno invited you to watch the game and then go to the afterparty. You know how hard it is to get invited to those parties!” She drags out the last syllable, pretending to beg, “And Jihyo said she’d kill me if you bailed.”

You sigh. Jeno did invite you, and he had that killer smile on his lips when he did it. The reminder sends butterflies in your stomach fluttering about. The only reason you were planning to skip out was because you were nervous. And what happened in class yesterday. But that didn’t matter! Gryffindors seeker asking you to come watch him play, and then walking you to class? That made you more than friends, right? You didn’t know how to navigate that without being awkward… and you’d hate to disappoint him.

“Fine, I’ll go.”

Mina squeals next to you and pulls you into a hug. “You won’t regret this! But hurry up, I wanna see if I can spot Renjun before the game.” She smiles to herself, a light blush dusting her cheeks that she tries to conceal.

“Renjun… Isn’t that the boy you’re tutoring in potions?”

She hums in response, a dreamy expression so evident on her face you could almost make out hearts in her eyes. It's like a real-life cartoon.

“You have a crush on him!” you tease, giggling when she holds her arms out defensively and tries to deny it. “That’s why you’re going to the game today! Not because you don’t need to study, but because you wanna see Renjunnnnn.” You draw out his name like you used to do when you were first years.

“Don’t tell Jihyo.” She groans. “She’ll give me hell for it, and I want this to progress naturally on its own.”

“I won’t, I’m just shocked our Mina has a crush!”

You feel happy for your friend. Happy that she’s found somebody who could actually drag her away from being holed up on a Saturday afternoon – it's real progress.

“Enough about me! Go get ready!”

She throws a pillow at you when you leap off the couch, and it hits you square in the chest, both of you thrown into another fit of giggles.

The stands were so jam packed with students, you thought there was absolutely no way you were going to grab a seat.

That was until you spotted Jihyos yellow Hufflepuff cap sticking out in a sea of Gryffindor gear. It was against house rules to wear anything outside of your house colors, so while you wanted to wear red to support Jeno, the best you could do was the red handheld flags they were passing out at the gate to the field.

A first year Slytherin tried to hand you a green flag, but you upturn your nose and brush him aside. You didn’t hate all Slytherins, but you’d be damned if Haechan caught sight of you supporting his team, especially since it was him pitted against Jeno. It saddened you that he was a seeker like the boy you were there to support; he didn’t deserve the position.

Mina grabs your hand and drags you into the thick of the crowd where elbows jostled you every few seconds and your cheeks were being whipped with waving flags. You duck your head down and try not to trip, a sigh of relief rushing past your lips when you make it to where Jihyo is sitting front row, batting away a couple who were trying to sit in the seats she was keeping for the two of you.

“See!” She yells, gesturing wildly to the two of you walking up, “My friends are here, and these seats are now occupied!” She grabs your wrists and tugs you to sit down.

The couple rolls their eyes and move on to find another seat.

“Bitches.” Jihyo curses under her breath.

“Thanks for saving the seat.” You breathlessly laugh, adjusting your jacket so that you were bundled up. Hogwart winters weren’t for the faint of heart.

Jihyo smirks, “Had to fight off about half the Gryffindor population for this good of a view, but it was worth it.”

On the other side of Jihyo, Mina laughed and clapped her hands at the commotion on the field, right before every other student erupted in cheers, hoots, and hollers.

From your midfield position, you saw the Slytherin team filtering out on the green, brooms in hand.

“WELCOME ALL FACULTY AND STUDENTS TO THE FIRST HOME GAME OF THE SEASON!! PLEASE WELCOME OUR SLYTHERIN TEAM!” The announcer's voice boomed, rattling through the entire stadium.

As much as you resisted cheering, Mina was there to support Renjun, so you gave a few half-hearted claps on her behalf, earning dirty looks from the surrounding Gryffindors. You were in the wrong section if you wanted to support the snakes.

You weren’t looking for him, but Haechan’s blonde hair immediately grabs your attention. He’s smiling, all sharp and smug, and you can make out green face paint dotting the side of his neck. It irked you that he was soaking in the cheering – you bet he got off to on the attention. What? With him being the infamous Slytherin seeker? It went straight to his head, and you knew it.

The team hopped on their brooms and flew around the students, tossing Slytherin gear into the stands as they weaved in and out of the sections. When Haechan passed, he blew you a kiss and winked, infuriating you to the point your face flushed hot.

“Ignore him.” Jihyo rolls her eyes and gives your hand a squeeze, “He’s trying to get you mad. Jeno will put him in his place.”

The thought of Jeno putting him in his place warms your heart. Oh, how good that’ll feel.

Once the Slytherins stopped showing off, the crowd went relatively quiet, waiting for the real star of the show to come out. A thrumming chant started somewhere opposite your section, and soon enough, the entire student body was collectively roaring for Gryffindor.

“WE WANT BETTER, WE WANT MORE, SHOW US GRYFFINDOR!!”

A rumble goes through the crowd right before cold air whips your face and a sea of red jerseys flies over your head. It makes you laugh giddily, and your eyes desperately search for number seven – Jeno.

It takes a second, but soon enough your eyes are locked on his lean figure which presses forward on the thin broom stick. He looked good.

Jihyo goes fucking wild beside you, “There’s your man!” she screeches, and you let out a belly laugh. You both watch as he makes his rounds around the towers filled with cheering students – each and every one until he gets to yours.

“You look beautiful” he shouts, and a dozen girls around you squeal in adoration. He was talking to you though, and you knew it. His eyes sparkle when he gives you a wink. “Wish me luck.” he mouths.

“Omg how cute are you two!?” Jihyo swoons.

You pressed a kiss to your palm and then blew it to him – a signal of your affection. With a wide eye-smile, he grabbed it out of the air and pressed it to his lips.

It was then and there that you decided you were going to kiss him after the match. All too quickly, he flew away, and you watched as he went.

Not two seconds later, a new Gryffindor player was in front of you, balancing on the tail end of his stick. Johnny, you remembered his name.

His jersey was tucked between his teeth, his abs on full display, which sent the hoards of girls around you into a screaming fit. You caught a quick glimpse before he spat the hem out of his mouth.

“Y/N, you want us to win?” He asks, his voice a deep timbre.

You were shocked that he was talking to you – let alone that he knew your name.

Gingerly, you nod your head.

“I bet. You coming to the party after?”

This interaction was so bizarre, and all Jihyo and Mina did to help was stare at the six-foot, built, fine specimen lingering only three feet in front of you.

“Jeno invited me.” For some reason, a blush settles on your face, and you fight the urge to cover it.

“Bet you’re gonna have a fun time with him after.” A dazzling smirk plastered itself on Johnny’s face. “You should ask him if he’ll let you ride his broomstick. I heard he’s a good teacher. It should be fun.” He flew around so quickly it left you blinking in his wake. Over his shoulder, you heard him call out, “See you after, prize girl.”

The entire twenty-second conversation left you reeling, and you tucked a mental note away to ask Jeno about it later.

From across the field, a certain Slytherin seeker was seething. Both his hands grabbed the broom so tightly his knuckles turned white. If he applied any more pressure, it would have broken.

The fuck was Johnny talking to you about? Did it have to do with Jeno? What did you see in him anyways? What did Jeno have that he didn’t? Did he have to prove himself? Yes, he thinks. That’s what he’ll do. He’ll win this match to prove to you that he’s better than Jeno. Maybe then you’ll truly see him – and give him a chance.

Game on.

Two minutes were left in the last quarter, and it was neck and neck.

Green and red jerseys fly around each other.

The stadium echoed with the thunderous cheers as the Quaffle exchanged hands between the opposing teams. The bludgers were like rogue comets, threatening to disrupt the fluid dance of the players. Jeno and Haechan had their eyes fixed on the glittering snitch.

A collective gasp filled the arena as Haechan executed a daring spiral dive, narrowly avoiding a bludger. Simultaneously, Jeno executed a swift roll, evading a clever attempt by the opposing team to intercept him.

The golden snitch continued to flit teasingly ahead, leading the seekers on a merry chase.

You grip onto Jihyo and Mina as the game comes to a crescendo.

It happens so quick you almost miss it, but in three seconds everything changes.

Three.

Jeno becomes unbalanced, teetering sideways on his broom that keeps flying straight. His eyes are locked on yours when a wave of pure panic engulfs his sweaty features.

Haechan flies past him, one hand outstretched towards the golden snitch that loomed just mere inches from his fingertips.

Two.

He flips over the side of his broom, hands reaching out to try and catch himself. One by one his fingers tap the stick, not able to gain any purchase, and then he’s falling.

The other seeker presses ahead, dodging his teammates who don’t have time to get out of his way with how fast he’s flying.

One.

Jeno’s body slams into the grass field beneath the players, his broomstick landing next to his broken figure. He doesn’t get up, doesn’t scream in pain, doesn’t move.

Haechan's hand closed around the golden snitch, a victorious shout echoing from him and his teammates. He turned, searching for you in the crowd, but your gaze was fixed on Jeno.

Zero.

Shouts and cries erupt from the crowd, half in victory and half in shock. Someone screams Jeno’s name and you’re not sure if it’s your own shout, or if that person was just really close by.

With wide eyes, you watch as a bunch of medical staff rush towards him on the field and surround his body. Your body becomes ice cold and you can feel your heartbeat in your throat.

Please let him be okay; he has to be okay.

The Slytherin team flies around the field, visiting their supporters in the stands while everyone else’s eyes are on Jeno.

Jihyo grabs your shoulders and gasps when a white medical cot is lifted onto the shoulders of a few Gryffindor players.

“He’s okay. He’s okay.” Mina repeats, taking hold of your hand between hers and you almost sob in relief when you see him wiggling around in the cot, moans of pain falling from his lips too low for your ears to pick up.

Haechan watches from a distance, eyes wide in shock when he takes notice of Jeno’s condition and when he looks up, he sees your dormmates consoling you. He wanted to fly over to you and ask if you’re okay, but he knew you wouldn’t want to hear it, not when Jeno was hurt.

Once Jeno and the medical staff made it off the field, the stands began to clear out, but you feel like you can’t move.

“Come on.” Jihyo murmurs, pulling you up and wrapping an arm around you. It was silly that they had to take care of you like this when you weren’t even the one who was hurt.

When you made it to the bottom of the stand, you huddle together in a group.

Jihyo, with her arm still wrapped around you, gave you a side hug. “I’m sure he’s fine.” Mina nodded in agreement, but you started biting your nails – not that there was much to bite, lord knows they were almost stubs as it was.

Another person slides into your tight group, and you don’t notice until you hear his voice, “The scorekeepers say there was no evidence of foul play.”

When you looked up, you were surprised to see who you thought was Renjun. When he noticed your gaze, he gave a soft smile.

“That’s bullshit,” Jihyo declares, “We all know who did it, and he’s on your fucking team.”

Renjun just shrugs and slides an arm around Mina, and despite the timing and circumstance, you raise an eyebrow at her. She waves you off and slides her attention to Renjun, “Everyone knows it was Haechan.”

“Well, the scorekeepers say otherwise.”

You felt like screaming and crying and running away all at once, but you just stood there, biting your nails.

“I know I probably shouldn’t be asking right now,” Renjun's eyes flickered to you before looking away quickly, “But, I wanted to invite you guys to the after-party. I don’t need an answer, just show up if you want to, and I’ll have Chenle watching for you guys at the door. It starts in half an hour.” He started to pull away from the group but turned back at the last second. “By the way, Y/N, I’m sorry about Jeno. Just because I’m on the opposite team doesn’t mean I don’t feel bad.”

A hum falls from your lips and then he’s off.

“Well, if I need anything right now, it’s a fucking drink,” Jihyo joked, but one look at you, and her laughter died.

Mina is more concerned with you, “We won’t go if you need us.”

“No,” you blurted, dropping your hands from your face. “I –” A particularly loud shout jarred your attention away, and when you looked around to find the culprit, you saw the entire Slytherin team gathering to your right. Haechan stood in the center only long enough for you to make out it was him, then he was being hoisted onto his teammates' shoulders. His eyes met yours, and he smirked, lifting a hand to wave at you. It took everything in you to not storm over there and punch the absolute shit out of him. He wished he was your fucking priority, but that wasn’t the case.

“You sure?” Mina asks, snapping you out of your murderous thoughts.

“I gotta go check on Jeno.” You give a small smile, “Save me a drink?”

Jihyo and Mina both nodded, and before you walked off, you threw a middle finger at Haechan, who caught sight and clasped his chest like he was dying.

It pissed you off, but you had bigger priorities right now.

Haechan would have his turn.

As the cheering fades, the screams take over.

Deep, guttural screams of someone in agonizing pain echo through the empty castle halls leading right to the medical wing. They come in bursts; long strings of curses, grunts, and broken yells, and it makes you inwardly cringe because you knew who they belonged too.

“Jeno…” you whisper, after hearing a particularly jarring shriek.

After rounding the corner, the tall double oak doors loom in front of you, inviting you to join Jeno in his agony, or at least be there to comfort him. Pushing them open, you reveal a large, brightly lit room sectioned off by blue plastic curtains and medical cots. On the left side of the room, you see a nurse tending to who must be Jeno, but you can’t see his face.

You can hear him though.

His voice is amplified ten-fold now that you were in the same room, and instinctively you raise your hands to plug your ears but shake it off. Tentatively you walk over.

“Goddamn Slytherin.” You hear him groan, legs twisting in discomfort when the nurse applies pressure to his arm. It’s evident he’s never been in this much pain before.

“Jeno?” You whisper, startling the nurse who accidentally puts too much pressure on his arm, causing him to jerk away from her, a yelp passing his thin lined lips.

Her hands pepper over his body in apology, not turning her head to look at you, “You shouldn’t be in here.”

“I know.” You whisper, and she doesn’t press any further on why you’re there or ask you to leave, so you stay.

Jeno doesn’t even seem to notice you, but that doesn’t matter. You shift around the bed slightly and catch sight of his face. Both his eyes are shut, one ringed in purple and his bottom lip split in two separate places. His nose seemed to get busted in the fall as it was surrounded by dark red, almost black, dried blood. A few droplets splattered on his shirt, accompanying the grass and dirt he had slammed into after falling thirty feet from the sky,

As bad as it may sound, you’re glad Jeno only broke his arm. A fall from that height could have meant paralysis or worse, death. He truly got lucky.

You stand quietly, watching as she shifts Jeno’s arm into a sling, securing it with a couple items you don’t know the name for and then popping a few muggle meds in his mouth. Lifting a glass of water to his lips, he groans, knocking back the pills.

It never sat right with you how the nurses used muggle methods of healing when there were more than a fair share of spells that could work much quicker. It was as if they wanted you to stew in your own misery.

Wasn’t the point of magic to make things easier?

Your thoughts are cut off by the nurse brushing past you, arms full of medical supplies. “Visiting hours are over in twenty minutes. Make it quick.” She warns, before walking away.

“Why are you here.” Jeno groans when she leaves the room, eyes still sticking shut.

“I –”A dull ache lands on your heart and the words catch in the back of your throat, a sudden cough clearing them away.

His lip curls into a sneer, “Spit it out y/l/n,”

The aggression radiating off of him makes you stumble back but you don’t let it scare you. You knew Jeno and he wasn’t scary… or so you thought.

“I just wanted to make sure you were okay.” You speak quietly, like any word above a murmur would startle him and hurt him worse.

“Obviously, I’m not fucking okay.” His voice is nasally, mocking you, “But you don’t care, do you? Bet you’re just here to make sure I don’t snitch on your little boyfriend.”

“He’s not my boyfriend.” Your eyes narrow down to slits. It angered you that Jeno thought you would give any time of day to the little prick who kept messing with you.

“You should tell him that.”

His eyes snap open and home in on you, glaring from his spot on the bed. Uncomfortable in his position, he squirms a bit, trying to right himself, but he grunts and falls back down, the pain too much for him.

‘You should tell him that.’

The words bounce around the inside of your skull. Did Haechan think you were together? Think he had some kind of weird ass claim over you?

"Jeno –”

“You know I can’t even play quidditch now that my arm is broken. My fucking arm Y/N.” Tears form in the corner of his eyes, whether from the pain or the prospect that he was out for the season, you weren’t sure, “He knocked me off my broom. That’s like… that’s like attempted murder!” he splutters, a crazed expression overtaking his face.

As much as you disliked the guy, there was no way he was capable of murder. No, this was due to his unrelenting jealousy, and someone needed to set him straight.

“Oh, come on, it’s not attempted –”

Jeno’s free hand is shoved in your face, one finger pointing at you patronizingly, “Yes, it is. You and I both know he’s a crazy son of a bitch, and he obviously has something for you so stay the fuck away from me.”

“Really, can we just talk?”

He shakes his head, “No. Get the fuck away from me and keep your little boyfriend in check.”

“For the last time, he’s not –”

“I don’t care what he is! The both of you need to leave me the fuck alone.”

Your heart breaks.

It wasn’t because you liked him. No, that wasn’t it. You just thought this could have been the start of something new since your love life had been wrecked for years thanks to the one and only Lee Donghyuck.

You can’t believe he had the audacity to wreck it again.

“I’m sorry.” Your voice comes out in a whisper, way too low for him to hear, but he waves you off anyway, “I’ll go.”

He doesn’t say anything; doesn’t even watch as you turn your back and walk away, past the blue plastic curtains and out the heavy double doors. The more steps you take, the heavier your heart feels in your chest. Tears burn in your eyes and anger clouds your head with each passing second like poison.

Haechan wasn’t getting away with this, you were going to make sure.

You see fucking red.

Storming through the halls of Hogwarts was a rare occurrence for you, but today was different. People gasped as you briskly brushed past them, your head so hot it felt like smoke might billow from your ears. Annoyed shouts of 'hey' or 'watch it' barely registered as you descended the stairs leading to the ominous 'Slytherin Dungeon.' The air grew colder with each step, mirroring the iciness in your gaze. Thoughts of pounding Haechan's face swirled in your mind, and you couldn't shake the fiery anger fueling your every move.

You knew if Jihyo was here she would make fun of your anger, claiming that you didn’t belong in Hufflepuff with your temper.

Too bad she wasn’t.

Maybe she could have calmed you down, slowed your racing heart and spoken some sense into your hard head, but alas, she wasn’t, and you were only growing more furious by the second.

Reaching the bottom of the staircase, you rounded a corner and collided with a Slytherin you recognized as Chenle, thanks to Renjun's heads up. His light green hair parted down the middle, coupled with the trademark Slytherin resting bitch face, transformed into a smirk upon seeing you.

“Y/N! Glad you could make it!” His voice is deeper than you would have thought, and he was much taller when you walked up to him.

"Yeah, yeah, let me in." Impatiently tapping your foot, you watched as he opened the door, revealing the booming bass of the music inside.

"Say hey to him for me." Chenle grinned, extending an arm to welcome you.

You pushed past him, retorting over your shoulder, "You can tell Renjun yourself." Confusion flashed over his face, but the door slammed shut before further words could be exchanged, sealing you inside.

The ambiance in Slytherin territory starkly contrasted with your dorm. Damp darkness replaced the natural sunlight, and the air carried the scent of spicy cologne rather than the comforting aroma of food.

Thank God I wasn’t placed in Slytherin, you think.

Music reverberates off the walls and lands loudly on your eardrums, a soft green glow emitting from the end of the hallway. Conversation and laughter can be heard just slightly above the music, and you follow it till you’re at the end of the corridor and in the den of the snakes.

Green.

There’s green everywhere.

But your dormmates were nowhere to be found. In fact, all you saw in every direction were green robes with the occasional pop of yellow and blue.

No Gryffindors, interesting.

A hand lands on your arm and you jump back at least ten feet.

"Woah, it's just me." Renjun's eyes crinkled with a smile as he extended a drink towards you. You accepted it with a silent 'thank you.'

"Your friends are in the bathroom, I think, but I can wait with you if you like." Renjun's politeness caught you off guard. This has got to be the nicest Slytherin boy you’ve ever met.

As you took a sip of the bitter liquid, you mused, "No need to wait with me... I came to see someone real quick, and then I'll be on my way."

"I know he deserves it, but go easy on him, okay?" Renjun's words hung in the air, causing you to stare at him with disbelief. Sensing your anger, he quickly stepped back, raising a hand. "You know what, forget I said anything."

Cocking your head, you smiled, "Know where I can find him?"

Renjun simply pointed behind you.

Turning around, you spotted the boy in question, lounging on a couch stripped of his robes. Clad in a white button-up shirt and black slacks, Haechan exuded an air of arrogant nonchalance. Two girls clung to either side of him, and a few friends surrounded him, exchanging laughs and banter.

"Thanks, Renjun." You mutter, not bothered to look behind you and see that he wasn’t standing there anymore.

You down the rest of your drink in one gulp and leave the plastic solo cup on a random side table as you stalk over to where the blonde headed boy was lounging. When you push past his friends, his eyes snap to you.

“Glad you could make it.” He beams, eyes washing over your body. You were in that damn skirt, and it drove him fucking wild.

Ignoring him, you placed your hands on your hips. "Get up."

He chuckled, patting his thigh. "Why don't you sit down and enjoy the party?" Laughter erupted from his friends, and the girls hanging off his arms glared at you.

“Get. Up.” You seethe.

“Feisty aren’t you.” He murmurs, shrugging off the girls at his side and standing up.

“Lead the way to your room.”

A few hoots and hollers followed you as he guided you away from the party and into the hallway. "Can't wait to get your hands on me?"

Ignoring him, you followed, your gaze trailing from the back of his neck to his shoulder blades visible through the sheer fabric of his shirt. The muscles rippled as he opened the heavy door of his bedroom, and you had to tear your eyes away before saying something stupid.

The room was as expected, draped in dark green bedding and scattered quidditch gear. The scent of him surrounded you, reminiscent of that damned amortentia brewing session.

While he walks further into the room, you slam the door shut and spin around, “Where the hell do you get off – ”

“Right there.”

“What?” You blink.

“I get off right there.” He jabs a thumb over his shoulder in the direction of his bed, “Almost every night, unless I have a match the next day. You know, gotta keep the tension building so I do my best…”

You groan, “You’re unbelievable.” He chuckles a bit and steps closer to you, igniting the nerves that were already high strung, on fire, but you push the thought away, “Why do you feel the need to fuck around with the guys I like.”

“I was trying to win the game. Trust me, you and your relationship was nowhere on my mind.” What a fucking lie, he thinks. “I’m flattered you were thinking about me though.”

“Are you always this full of yourself?” You bite.

He flashes a beaming smile, pearly white teeth on display and you wished you didn’t stare too long at his canines. He had such a pretty smile and you wished you didn’t have to notice it. “When you look like I do, it’s kind of hard not to be.”

“Slytherin suits you, huh?” you sneer.

“Exactly.” He reaches an arm overtop of you and semi cages you against the door and his body, “So now that’s cleared up, can I go back out there and celebrate my win?”

He was so close to you, his lips only inches from your own, and his cologne was wafting up in your face sending you into a daze. God he was so cute, no not cute – hot. He was hot. You wonder what it would feel like to stretch your neck and kiss him. Did he taste how he smelled?

The fucking drink.

Whatever Renjun had given you was reaching your bloodstream way faster than muggle alcohol. You make a mental note to rip his head off later, but for now you turn your attention back to Haechan’s insanely close face.

“You need to realize –”

He cuts you off again, “Look, I’m all for being in here with you, but if you insist on keeping that pretty mouth running, I suggest you put it to good use instead of chastising me.” His eyes flicker from your own to your lips, almost like he was thinking about kissing you just as much as you were thinking about kissing him.

Do it, just kiss me, you think, but different words are said, “You wish.”

“Yeah, I do.” He quips.

“Can’t you be serious for one fucking second you asshole.” A drawn-out groan escapes you as you press your hand against him, hoping to coax him into backing off. Regrettably, he remains a solid wall of muscle and strength, unmoved by your attempts.

“Sorry, it’s just hot when you insult me. Do it again” He wiggles his eyebrows at you and leans in, one hand reaching out to caress the underside of your jaw.

He doesn't know where the newfound confidence was coming from. You were supposed to hate him, yet he had you in his bedroom. The same bedroom where he thought about fucking you. Where he got off to the memories of that goddamn mirror. Where he fantasized about you slotting your thighs on either side of his head, and sitting down on his waiting lips.

You swat his hand away, “Do you have any idea how stupid you are?”

“Not as stupid as you would look with a cock in your mouth.”

Wishful thinking, he muses.

You roll your eyes at his remark, but nonetheless a heat surges between your legs. You would look stupid – but Haechan’s cock in your mouth sounds all too great. “Are you done?”

“Done with what?”

You roll your eyes. Again. “Being an idiot.”

“Would an idiot make you flush so easily like this?” He strokes a stray hair behind your ear, his fingertips burning against your skin, “See? I make you flustered. You want me. Badly.”

Again, wishful thinking.

“You think I want you badly?” You scoff, a hand coming in contact with his crotch, “You’re the one hard. Do you get off on hurting people?”

“Yes.” He stares into your eyes, a mischievous glint shining in them, “I do.”

“God you’re fucking pathetic.”

He groans and pushes his hips into your hand. “Say it again.”

A loud and drawn-out gasp leaves your lips, “No fucking way you’re getting off on this too.” His dick twitches in his pants at your accusation.

“You talk too much. Just suck my dick already.”

Third times a charm.

Seeing him like that, pliant underneath your hand… it makes your heartbeat erratic and your face flush. You could tell he wanted it, and he wanted it bad, so why didn’t you give in to it? Give in to him? The air around you shifts and whatever it was, it has you lowering yourself down onto the floor so that you were kneeling below him, hands clawing at his belt buckle.

His eyes widen when he realizes what you’re doing. “I was kidd –”

“Is this what you want?” you coo, “Want me on my knees like this?” You slip his belt through the loops slowly and muster up the most innocent smile you could.

“You should stop, I was kidding.” He grunts, forearms tightening when you get his belt off and start on his pants button.

“I think you should shut up.”

He complies and doesn’t say a word while you pull both his pants and boxers down till they pooled around his ankle and he kicked them off.

Lee Donghyuck had a right to be cocky.

His cock sprung up against his abdomen standing tall and hard, clear, sticky precum droplets collecting on his tip. He fidgets under your gaze, but you were in awe at how big he was.

“Are you just gonna look at it?” He whines, one of his hands wrapping around your head and fisting tightly in your hair, “At least kiss it or something.”

You watched him twitch slightly as the cold air met his length, and again when your hand wandered past his thigh to grip him in your palm, squeezing him tightly at the base. He shivers into your touch, “You have a pretty dick.”

“So, I’ve been told.” He all but moans and tries to bring your head forward.

His neediness draws you closer, and you take him in your mouth. He was heavy and sweet, so fucking right for you that you don’t think straight and take him all the way in till he hits the back of your throat.

“Fuck.” He groans, holding your head down till you were choking and batting his thighs.

When he lets up, you gasp for air though you don’t find yourself mad, instead, you feel the fire in your stomach growing hotter and the wetness in your panties pooling.

“Ke-Keep going.” He stutters, the intent was strong, but his words broke in the moment.

You turn you head and lick from the base of his cock to his tip, relishing the way he bucks his hips into your fist. A rosy blush covers his neck and cheeks when you look up at him. When you meet his doe eyes, they were hooded with lust. For a split second he watches you lick all over him, giving a few small kisses on his tip, before he rolls his head back and closes his eyes.

Messily, you spit on his tip, using your hands to spread it down his length and he groans into the stilled air. “You’re so fucking hot.”

“So, I’ve been told.” You mock his earlier words, and his hold on your hair tightens as a warning.

Rolling your eyes, you take him in your mouth again, leaving your hand to pump his base while you harshly suck at his hot skin. He tries to push into the back of your throat again but knowing that you couldn’t take him again without choking, you dig your nails into his thighs, leaving him to shamelessly whimper out.

“Your mouth feels so fucking good baby.” He grunts, losing himself in the way your warm mouth glides down his length, and the right amount of pressure you’re squeezing around his base. If he closed his eyes, he could almost pretend it was your cunt he was pounding into.

You hum around his cock at the praise and repeat your movements, slightly taken aback by his pet name. In the back corner of your mind, you hope it was just a slip of the tongue.

The alcohol had too much of a hold on you to think about anything else other taking his cock down your throat, and loving every second. 

His chest begins to heave, and his legs start to shake bit as you draw him deeper down your throat, and when you look up, you notice his curious eyes watching you. He thinks about unbuttoning his shirt but pushes the thought aside when you erratically rub the underside of his length with your tongue.

“Bet you love the taste of my cock.” He whispers and you moan around a mouthful of him, the vibrations sending him into a euphoric head high.

He wasn’t wrong. You loved this, loved the feeling of having him slightly submissive under you with his dominant nature peeking through a bit.

It felt like a fucking dream.

“Can I cum down your throat?”

You’re shocked that he’s close already, but with the palpable tension beforehand acting like foreplay, you shouldn’t be. You try and nod to the best of your ability and you guess he gets the message because he’s fisting your hair again and drawing you close, a string of curses falling from his lips.

Uncontrollable gasps and grunts leave him as he fucks your throat, leaving you to helplessly take it – take all of him, and before you know it, hot white cum is shooting down your throat, his head thrown back as he snaps his hips against your face.

You felt like a rag doll in his grip but that didn’t matter right now, all that mattered was swallowing his arousal, a bit of it landing on your tongue and while you thought it was going to taste salty, you’re mildly surprised to find its sweet.

“My god, I can’t believe you actually did that.”  He pants, moving to put his slacks back on while you stand up and wipe your mouth with the back of your hand, “I – Thank you.”

A darker blush flushes on his face and he turns to you now fully dressed. He wasn’t sure what to say now, and that was a first for him.

“Are you happy?” You spit, a bout of spite coming out of nowhere, “Did you get what you wanted? Will you leave me and Jeno alone now?”

He stumbles back like your words had a physical effect on him, “What are you talking about? You dragged me in here?”

Where did the sudden flip of emotion come from? One minute you had his cock in your mouth and the next you’re yelling at him again. The both of you can’t come up with an answer, but somewhere in your brain you knew it was your way of trying to convince yourself the rising feelings you were having towards him weren’t a thing; would never be a thing.

“Just leave me and Jeno alone now. Okay?”

You straighten your blouse and fix your hair before opening the door behind you and storming out. He tries to follow you, half stumbling through the hall till he was out in the party again where his friends clap him on the back, congratulating him on ‘hitting that yellow tail’, but he can’t find it in himself to smile and jeer back. All he does is watch you storm away, his friend Renjun reaching out for you. Your dormmates try and stop you but you blow past them and round the corner where the door to the stairs were.

Should he let you go?

Or should he follow?

"Fuck this."

TAGLIST. @txpxwxk @sunshinedhyuck @honeym4rk2 @saenora @peachjaem00 @grassbutneo @capri-cuntz @seajae @kenmathegreat @aliceinwhateverland @fraechan @monyuno @meowniee @ggukkyu @quarter-life-crisis2 @nominsgirl @dewydew @httpxelysian11 @rainyjeno

[riddlesb1tch]

Under the Stars

Azriel x reader

summary: years ago you made a pact with Azriel that if the two of you were single in 20 years, you'd marry each other. As you two reflect on this promise years later, Azriel admits something that he has been hiding since that day.

warnings: none!

Azriel stood on the balcony of the House of Wind, his elbows resting on the railing as he gazed up at the stars. You could see the tightness in his shoulders, the way his posture was just a little too stiff. It was clear that he was in pain, his heart breaking in a way that made yours ache for him. You had no idea why, though. He had been upset the whole day and refused to speak with anyone.

You moved quietly to his side, mirroring his stance, and offered a gentle, “Hey.”

“Hey,” he replied, his voice soft but carrying a depth of sadness that cut through you.

Looking up at the night sky, you ventured, “Wanna tell me why you’re sad?”

Azriel inhaled deeply and after a couple of seconds spoke so softly you barely heard him. “What if I can’t find anyone? What if no one likes me?” 

Furrowing your brows, you turned to him. “Why would you think that?” you asked. 

Azriel shrugged, mumbling, “I don’t know,” while looking down at his hands. “Maybe I’ll always be too much of a weirdo for love,” he let out a hollow laugh. 

“You’re not too much of a weirdo,” you said softly. “You’re just the right amount of weird, Az. I’m sure one of these days, someone will come along who will love you exactly as you are. They won’t try to change you or ask you to give more than you have, and they won’t give you for the world.” 

Azriel gave a hollow laugh, the sound devoid of true humour. “It’s been five centuries. I can’t imagine a miracle happening now.”

Your heart twisted further at the weight of his words. The pain etched into his features and the hopelessness in his eyes were almost too much to bear. You took a deep breath and decided to offer a glimmer of light.

“Hey,” you said, trying to sound more upbeat, “if things don’t work out, we could always marry each other.”

He turned to you, a surprised smile tugging at the corners of his lips. “What?”

“I’m serious!” you insisted, trying to keep the mood light. “If, in 20 years, we’re both still single, let’s make a pact. We’ll marry each other.”

Azriel’s gaze was sceptical but intrigued. “Why would you want that?”

You took a moment to consider your answer, glancing up at the stars once more before meeting his eyes. “Well, we’ve been friends for over a century. We know each other well, and we get along great. We live in the same house, so there’s really nothing we don’t know about each other. And,” you added softly, “I care about you, Az.”

His eyes softened, and a warmth spread through his gaze as he looked at you. “I care about you, too, Y/n.”

A genuine smile broke across your face at his words. “So it’s settled, then! In 20 years, if we’re still single, we’ll marry each other.” You extended your hand toward him, hoping he would agree. 

Azriel hesitated for a moment, a mixture of scepticism and amusement dancing across his features. Then he reached out, his hand clasping yours firmly. “Deal,” he said with a small, hopeful smile.

You squeezed his hand and gave him a reassuring look. “I won’t let you die alone, Shadowsinger,” you whispered. “You’re much too precious for that.” 

At that moment, Azriel looked at you as if you had hung the stars in the sky. He pulled you into a tight hug and you felt the tension leave his shoulders. 

You chuckled softly as Liam animatedly recounted the stories from your date. When you reached your door, he gave you a wistful smile, the kind that suggested he wished the evening could last a bit longer.

“So is this where the night ends?” he asked, his tone betraying a hint of disappointment.

You mirrored his expression, nodding solemnly. “It’s not goodbye,” you ventured, a soft smile touching your lips. “We will see each other again.”

Liam’s face brightened slightly. He leaned in, pressing a gentle kiss to your cheek, his lips warm and lingering for a brief moment. “I’ll see you tomorrow!” he called cheerfully as he turned and walked away, his steps echoing softly down the hallway.

Smiling, you winnowed inside the House of Wind, the familiar warmth of the house wrapping around you like a comforting embrace. The house was quiet, as expected. Cassian and Nesta had gone away for the weekend to a secluded cabin to celebrate their first anniversary, leaving just you and Azriel behind. You assumed Azriel had gone out too since he hadn’t mentioned any plans, and fatigue from your date was beginning to weigh on you.

As you made your way to your room, the muffled sounds of grunting and punching reached your ears. Curious and concerned, you realized that Azriel was on the rooftop training.

Deciding to check on him, you headed towards the roof. The cool, crisp night air hit your face as you stepped into the open training ring. The sight before you was striking: Azriel stood in the centre of the ring, his hands clenched into fists, his focus fixed intently on the punching bag. The bag swung with each of his forceful strikes, and his movements were charged with a pent-up intensity that made the air around him almost crackle.

You took a moment to admire Azriel, appreciating his physicality—the way his muscles flexed with each punch, the fluidity of his movements, the raw strength he exuded. Though nothing romantic had ever happened between the two of you, you couldn’t deny that Azriel was strikingly handsome. His sharp, defined features, and dark hair contrasting with his light eyes, paired with his impressive physique, made him undeniably captivating.

“Hey there,” he greeted, his voice carrying a smirk as he glanced over at you.

You felt a flush of warmth spread across your cheeks but tried to maintain a casual demeanour. Leaning against the doorframe, you crossed your arms over your chest. “So what did the poor punching bag do to you? You’re hitting it like it stole your bride.”

Azriel chuckled, the sound rumbling through his chest. He hung his head slightly, shaking off the tension, and moved to the bench at the corner of the training area. He sank onto the bench, grabbing his water bottle with a sigh of relief. You followed and took a seat next to him.

“How’d the date go?” he asked, his voice a mix of casual curiosity and concern.

You sighed, staring at the starry night sky of Velaris. “It was okay,” you admitted, your voice carrying a note of resignation.

“Uh oh,” Azriel said, a teasing edge creeping into his tone. “Did he do something shitty? Did he say ‘pacifically’ instead of ‘specifically’?” he teased.

You laughed, shaking your head. “No, no, he was actually really nice. I just didn’t feel like he was right for me,” you said. “You know?”

“Yeah,” he murmured, nodding in understanding.

The two of you fell into a comfortable silence, gazing at the vast, twinkling expanse above. Your gaze eventually drifted to Azriel’s hands, and you noticed the bloodied and bruised knuckles, evidence of his intense training session.

“You’re bleeding,” you said, your voice gentle but laced with concern as you reached for his hand to inspect it up close. The sight of his battered knuckles tugged at your heart.

Azriel dismissed your concern with a casual wave. “It’s nothing. Just been at it for a while,” he said nonchalantly.

You frowned, disapproval evident in your eyes. Turning to his shadows, which had been hovering around you both, you whispered, “Can you bring me a first aid kit?” The shadows bobbed up and down as if nodding in agreement before darting out of the room.

Azriel looked at you and his shadows with surprise. “Since when do they listen to you?” he asked, his astonishment clear.

“They always have,” you replied with a shrug. “You didn’t know?”

He shook his head, clearly amazed.

The shadows soon returned, depositing a rectangular box in your lap. You opened it, retrieved the alcohol and cotton pads, and set the kit aside. Gently, you resumed tending to Azriel’s wounds, dabbing the alcohol-soaked cotton on his knuckles, slowly and carefully cleaning away the blood. As you worked, Azriel’s eyes remained fixed on your face—observing your concentration, the kindness in your eyes, and the tenderness of your touch.

“Thank you,” he whispered, his voice barely audible.

You looked up, offering him a soft smile. “It’s no problem,” you replied.

A comfortable silence settled between you, the only sound the rustling of the night wind and the occasional hum of the city below. You continued to work on his hands, your fingers brushing against his skin with a soothing touch, while Azriel turned his gaze back to the sky.

After a few moments, he spoke again, his voice reflective. “Do you remember 20 years ago when we were standing right over there?” He gestured toward the railing. “And we made that promise to each other—that if we were both single in 20 years, we’d marry each other?” His smile was wistful, a touch of nostalgia in his eyes.

You turned to look at the spot he indicated, your smile mirroring his. “Yeah,” you whispered. “Crazy how fast time flies.”

You finished cleaning his hands but didn’t let go. Instead, you held his hand gently between your own, your fingers tracing the lines of his scars with a delicate touch.

“So are you still down for it?” Azriel asked, his eyes softened by an earnest hope.

You were taken aback by the question but managed a soft smile. “Yeah, I am.”

Azriel sighed in relief, a genuine smile spreading across his face. “Because, truth be told, Y/n, I’ve been yours since the day we made that promise,” he confessed, his gaze unwavering as he looked deeply into your eyes.

Your breath caught in your throat, and you stared at him, stunned. “What?” you whispered, barely able to comprehend his words.

“It’s true,” he continued quietly. “I’ve avoided every long-term relationship with the hope that one day, we’d end up together, Y/n.”

For a moment, you were at a loss for words, your mind reeling. Then, with a shaky breath, you replied, “Well, if only you had said that 20 years ago, we could have been celebrating our 20th anniversary today.”

Azriel chuckled softly, his head hanging in a sheepish gesture. “Forgive me, my dear. I’m not the best at expressing my feelings.”

“No, you are not,” you agreed with a light laugh. “But I’d be happy to teach you,” you said softly, your voice filled with warmth.

“And there is no one else I’d rather learn from,” Azriel whispered before leaning in and capturing your lips in a kiss that was both tender and fervent, a culmination of all the years of unspoken feelings and promises.

Masterlist

[lovelyyandereaddictionpoint]

Yandere Witch /// Part 1

Rhiana is your dear friend who lives just out of town in a cozy cottage in the forest. You met while shopping. You two talk about the different spices she suggests to flavor meat and veggies. It leads you to a fast but close friendship with Rhiana, close enough that it becomes a usual event to visit her monthly while you’re in the area. Whether it’s shopping, karaoke, or just coffee date hangouts there is one thing that comes up a lot.

“Rhiana you’re so pretty.”

“Aw (Y/n) thank you!”

“Seriously though you’re like a painting. I still can’t believe you don’t model.”

“Honestly (Y/n) you’re such a charmer!”

Your dear friend Rhiana doesn’t do anything for a nightly routine or facials or specific remedies to look how she does. Seeing her when you do it seems like the scale of her looks ranges from glowing to immaculate. It certainly makes getting free stuff with her much easier. She just will credit one thing to her looks and even then she doesn’t talk about it much.

“Maybe it’s what I eat…I have been eating more meat, lately.”

But your dear friend Rhiana doesn’t explain anymore, usually going on a tangent about how she can season her meat. She’ll refuse to tell you just how stringent her beauty is on her carnivorous diet. Because on top of being a good friend to you, she is a Witch. Specifically, the kind that maintains her health and youth by devouring the souls and bodies of human beings. She usually prefers eating children but since she’s met you she’s decided to reign it in.

“What if me and (Y/n) had a baby? Hehe, I can’t believe it’s making me blush so much.”

“Aaaaahh please let me go home!!! I promise not to tell!”

“Hmmmm maybe we’ll have 3…or 5 or 10. They won’t be allowed to leave if we have that many right?”

Rhiana the Witch has been doing this for hundreds of years and she’s had her fair share of lovers and harems. But she’s never found out about someone so early in advance. When she was much younger much dumber of 113  she’d seen a vision featuring you, of course at the time she didn’t know. Nor was she aware just how much seeing the future you had awakened something in her. Now she’s well in her 600s and she realizes how all of her flings in the past have features of yours or they speak like you. Or how her familiars mirror different aspects of your personality and as she delves into her past she realizes how all her life she’s been building up to be with you.

“(Y/n) is my….special person….their mine. All Mine!”

Now on top of feeding her voracious appetite, she’s trying to gain your affections so that she has your consent to make you immortal like she. If you might think it’s because she respects boundaries, then you’d be wrong. The potion she’s perfected over centuries only works if you give your express consent, with as little pressure as possible. So she’s refrained from drugging you on her many outings with you…for now. 

If I wanted to I could sprinkle a light aphrodisiac dust into the food they just keep shoveling into their mouth.

“But then I–HACK—*cough cough*”

“Hon, maybe don’t talk while you’re eating.”

“Right! So as I was saying–”

But Elements do I adore just watching them eat so happily.

She feels like a hapless teen all over again as her stomach flips and turns the more time she spends with you. No longer can she get a wink of her enchanted eyes and some choice sugar-coated words to get you exactly where she wants you. She has to try with you and she’s never wanted to do so more than with you. She’s even begun to tailor her meals with the ones that seem to bother you most. It’s risky but the satisfaction of a full tummy while she reads your letter about the creepy vendor finally stopping their emails makes her happy. 

“That is convenient.”

“I know. It’s not right to celebrate anyone going missing—”

“But it doesn’t take away from the harm they’ve done. Don’t feel bad hon it’s probably just an extended trip somewhere to the underworld.”

She thinks about how she’ll hide her rejuvenating diet when she finally gets you closer to her. You might not notice when she uses magic but you're not an idiot; you’d figure it out eventually. Not to mention the added trouble of her familiar’s growing interest and past suitors budding their noses in her business with you. She’s got a lot of work on her hands—and not a lot of time.

“Hey (Y/n) why don’t I come visit you every once in a while? Two days a month just isn’t enough time to make you fall in hopeless love with me+. What do say to me spending a night or two at yours?”

She's giving the former mc going for the side character reader Debating about a part 2 🖤🖤🖤🖤

I did it! Part 2: Here 🖤🖤🖤

[jujutsubaby]

⛓️ lonely at the top ⛓️

☆ pairing: satoru gojo x afab!reader x true form!sukuna ☆ summary: you are the great ryomen sukuna's favorite healer from the heian era, reincarnated in the modern time. for centuries, you have also been his favorite lover. but when sukuna returns one day with a shockingly handsome blue-eyed sorcerer, you cannot help but feel threatened. no matter what sukuna's plans are for this newcomer, however, you're willing to do whatever it takes to stay on top. ☆ tags: slight canon divergence, smut with a lil plot ¬‿¬ ☆ warnings: MINORS DNI!!!! handjob, oral sex (m/f!receiving; yes this includes sukuna's abdomen mouth lmao); voyeurism; exhibitionism; fingering; p in v; anal; overstimulation; masturbation ☆ a/n: ok the promised (and voted upon) sukugo fic is FINALLY here my loves :3 i had to add reader in the mix too though bc girls just wanna have fun. also writing this kinda made me a sukuna truther :/ maybe i understand gege and sukuna kaisen just a little bit more now :/ ANYWAY ENJOY!!! ☆ wc: 8k

when you had heard of Lord Sukuna's imminent duel with the infamous Satoru Gojo, you knew it would be prudent to practice your Reverse Cursed Technique. you had always been Lord Sukuna's favorite healer (among other things), but that had been the Heian Era. this new time was as foreign and strange to you as the delicate new body into which you had been reincarnated.

and so, when Lord Sukuna re-enters the compound you share with his other most trusted servants and loudly calls for you, you are prepared. flexing your practiced fingers and preparing to channel positive cursed energy, you hurry to the threshold from which his voice had emanated and immediately sink to a kneeling position, your head turned to the floor. as expected, Lord Sukuna had come straight to the healing quarters.

"you summoned me, Lord Sukuna?"

Lord Sukuna approaches you; his footsteps sound heavy and slow. he is exhausted, you can tell, but he does not seem grievously injured as you had expected. so why did he call for you?

your head still inclined downwards, you stifle a gasp as you notice rivulets of blood darkening the floor beneath you and staining your pristine robes.

"you will heal him," Lord Sukuna says simply. you hear a heavy thud hitting the bed you had prepared so carefully for your lord. actually, mystifyingly, you hear two thuds. you chance a glance upwards, and your heart drops when you see that Lord Sukuna has indeed deposited severed halves of some unfortunate sorcerer's body onto the bed. from his pallor, you can tell he has already lost quite a lot of blood. this is beyond any healing you have ever performed in any era. you briefly wonder whether your beloved lord is setting you up to fail when he speaks up.

"i trust you understand that failure is not an option."

"yes, my lord."

"y/n," he says more quietly. you nearly shudder at the sound of his tongue lavishing attention on your name. "i keep you in my employ because you are the only healer worthy of serving me."

it is a statement of arrogance, but it is also one of reassurance. someone who has served as his trusted servant for as long as you have learns how to understand his sometimes esoteric cues.

you feel a firm hand grip your jaw and tilt your face upwards. you are greeted by a sight you have not seen in centuries: Lord Sukuna in his true form, in all his magnificence. his tattoos stand starkly against his glistening torso. his arms, now four in number as you recall, are corded with muscle; the grip his massive hand has on your face could easily crush your windpipe — and yet, it does not. it never would, so long as you serve your purpose. you cannot help but bask in his glowing charisma. this was the sorcerer you were so proud to serve.

"it is my honor to serve you, my lord. i will heal the sorcerer, i swear it."

noticing your desirous eyes raking over his form, his cruel mouth forms a lazy smirk, which is mirrored in the mouth of his stomach. the effect is equal parts unnerving and disarming.

"come, y/n," Lord Sukuna says, pleased with your reaction to his true form. "let us see your patient for the evening." he seizes your shoulders with his second set of arms, and indelicately pulls you to your feet before marching you towards the bed.

Lord Sukuna must still be unused to inhabiting his true body after possessing so many weak mortal vessels, you muse, for he is being far rougher with you than usual. you find that you do not mind, however. in spite of the grave situation, you feel heat embarrassingly beginning to pool at the apex of your thighs at the feel of Lord Sukuna's thick fingers and their crushing grip on your narrow shoulders.

the man in the bed is muscular, although nowhere close to Lord Sukuna's physique. that said, he looks youthful, and strong enough to have put up a good fight. perhaps he would even be strong enough to recover from his horrendous injuries under your expert healing hands.

but who was this man? why was Lord Sukuna so insistent upon healing him? and how was he injured like this in the first place?

your eyes wander to his upper half, and you pause on his face. handsome, with delicate features and a shock of messy white hair. his eyes are slightly agape, and you note that they are the uncommon blue of a summer sea.

blue?

you gasp in spite of yourself and turn to your master, momentarily forgetting that propriety dictates that you not maintain eye contact with someone so many levels above yourself.

"forgive me, Lord Sukuna, but...Satoru Gojo?"

Lord Sukuna does not seem to mind your lapse in etiquette, as he meets your gaze with a grin.

"he put up a marvelous fight. talent like that should not be extinguished, even though most sorcerers doubtlessly dream of being defeated by somebody like the great Sukuna," he says.

Lord Sukuna was always able to make such grandiose statements about himself that would sound asinine coming from any mere man. with the great Lord Sukuna, statements like these are simply the truth. he has always been so far above any human you have known, which is why his fascination with Satoru Gojo is leaving a bitter taste in your mouth. mortal humans, including you, need to know their place. that maxim should include Satoru Gojo, too.

Lord Sukuna's voice shakes you from your reverie. "oh, and y/n?" his normally commanding voice is alarmingly soft, and laced with...something. something typically reserved for his favorites, like you.

"yes, Lord Sukuna?" you ask, carefully keeping your head angled downwards towards the bed so as not to repeat your earlier eye contact gaffe.  

you watch as Lord Sukuna reaches a hand out towards Satoru Gojo's listless face to slap the young man's elegant cheek.

"do be gentle with your technique. i want this one staying pretty for me."

ah.

so that was why Lord Sukuna had taken such pains to rescue Satoru Gojo.

with that, Lord Sukuna turns on his heel and leaves you to your patient.

you anticipated healing Gojo's injuries to be your greatest challenge yet, but it is far more taxing than you ever could have known. your Reverse Cursed Technique was meant for healing injuries, but what had happened with Gojo's body was almost beyond an injury.

it had taken you hours in the first place to even figure out a way to use your RCT in this situation, until you had realized that delicate threads of cursed energy still emanated from Gojo's body. even if it was physically severed, his cursed energy still lived, if only barely. it is a testament to the sheer magnitude of Gojo's cursed energy that some still survives; no wonder he had impressed Lord Sukuna so.

you use your RCT to trace the threads of cursed energy from one half of Gojo's body to the other; in doing so, you are able to treat the severing merely as a thinning of cursed energy, and thus as an injury rather than a full separation. you breathe a sigh of relief as you observe one thread of his torso knit itself back together under your watchful eye.

now to repeat the process for the entire circumference of his body. you stretch and sigh; this would be a long night. at least you have a way forward now, though. disappointing Lord Sukuna was never an option.

as you continue reconnecting the flesh and gristle that makes up Satoru Gojo, you find yourself increasingly unable to ignore his objective beauty. as a healer, you always possessed great admiration for the physical form, and Satoru Gojo just happened to be a prime specimen. perhaps the fact that Lord Sukuna had found him to be a worthy adversary (and prize, you remind yourself) also influenced your judgment.

you feel a strange intermingling of lust, jealousy, and envy at the thought. you are well aware that Lord Sukuna has a prodigious sexual appetite that requires countless mortals to satisfy, but you have long been secure in your position as his favorite plaything. now, however, compared to Satoru Gojo, you cannot be so certain; he possesses beauty and power in spades. 

you shake your head. this is neither the time nor the place to be evaluating Lord Sukuna’s judgment; favorite or not, it is your duty to complete the task he so graciously entrusted you with. you are not sure of how long you continue to sew Satoru Gojo’s body back together, but you are aware that the sun’s citrus glow has long faded.

Lord Sukuna had always reminded you of the sun, although you have never been bold enough to tell him such a silly romanticism. but in its radiant beauty, burning power, and distance alike, you see your liege. much like the sun, Lord Sukuna had shone on you, and in his light, you had blossomed. you had been an obscure village herbalist’s apprentice until he had found you; you had hardly even been aware of your latent healing powers. it had been Lord Sukuna who had seen your immense potential, and who had honed your sorcery to the level it was today.

even the fact that he had burned down your village the day he whisked you away had done little to dim your fervent gratitude.

the moon begins to rise higher in the night sky now, its light filtering through the shuttered windows of the healing quarters as you continue working. Satoru Gojo’s natural beauty takes on an ethereal glow when bathed in moonlight. the battle between him and Lord Sukuna must have been a sight to behold; as you reconnect his body, you feel his cursed energy growing and twisting into itself with taut strength. 

Finally, when his halves become whole again, you sit back and admire your handiwork. The full moon that night meant you did not require a lantern, but the moon is setting now, and you want to give Satoru Gojo’s body a final check. 

as you rise to leave the room for a lantern, you feel a hand clasp firmly about your wrist. you gasp softly. 

“have i died? am i dead right now?” Satoru Gojo’s voice is hoarse with disuse. you had not expected him to be conscious again yet given the state of him; you suppose the fact that he is is a testament both to your healing ability and to his innate strength. 

you sit back down, noticing that he does not loosen his grip on your wrist. 

“you are still alive, Satoru Gojo, for i have healed your wounds,” you reply matter of factly. 

his blue eyes, now that they are fully open and conscious, are even more shocking than they were when you first glimpsed them earlier that day. they seem to glow from within; they look like they hold full worlds within their depths. 

“that’s weird,” Gojo continues. “i could’ve sworn i died and went to heaven seeing as i’m looking at an angel right now.” only when you see that he is grinning impishly at you do you realize he is flirting with you. 

your lip curls in distaste, and you extricate your hand from his grasp.

“i am no angel. i am a sorcerer, as you are. you were as good as dead, split clean in half, but i channeled my Reverse Cursed Technique to heal you,” you conclude with pride. 

Gojo looks down at his stomach, shiny and pink with fresh scar tissue. 

“you must be some sorcerer, then. i was positive i was a goner back there. i’m not sure even Shoko could’ve healed me like this. really nice work,” he muses. he is right, of course. you are unsure of who Shoko is, but Gojo is correct that very few sorcerers could heal such severe injuries. all the same, you loathe the warmth you feel at his admiration; Lord Sukuna’s confidence should be enough for you.

“anyway,” Gojo continues, “who are you exactly? where am i?” 

“Lord Sukuna brought you here,” you say. “I am his healer.”

surely the mention of his formidable foe would shake Gojo’s arrogance. you relish the fear that Lord Sukuna’s name seems to inspire in other mortals. 

this was unfortunately not the case with Gojo. 

“that’s sweet, the ol’ guy wanted me healed up, huh?” 

you bristle. “you will address Lord Sukuna with respect!”   

Gojo merely laughs at your response, which infuriates you further. “i, for one, fail to see why he deigned to save such an insolent whelp like you,” you snap, succumbing to your rising temper.

“really?” Gojo asks, his blue eyes full of mirth. “guess you don’t get the old guy the way i do. i’m pretty sure I understand why he wanted me alive.”

“then be so kind as to enlighten me,” you say sardonically. 

“i’ve been the strongest sorcerer around for basically my whole life,” Gojo says. in spite of the sarcasm in your voice when you asked him to explain himself, he seems sincere. “fighting Sukuna was the first time i felt even remotely challenged. he even technically beat me, i guess.” 

he watches you, waiting for you to respond. when you are still silent, he continues.

“i’m sure he feels the same way i do. i know i challenged him the way he challenged me, and for sorcerers at our level, finding a true adversary is hard.  once you do find one, letting go can be just as hard.” Gojo sounds wistful; you wonder if he speaks from experience. 

“i guess what i’m saying is that it’s lonely at the top,” he finishes; his earlier amusement is gone, and he seems somber now. 

you find that you pity Gojo. to be a sorcerer can be a lonesome existence. Lord Sukuna, while alone in his caliber, at least has you and his other servants and devotees to warm and distract him. does Satoru Gojo have anyone?

you reach a hand forward and begin tracing the planes of his pale face with your fingers. he lacks Lord Sukuna’s raw power, but his beauty is exquisite. Gojo leans into your comforting touch. 

“how can i ever thank you for bringing me back to life?” he murmurs. as your hand passes near his lips, he stills it with his own and kisses it softly. 

you gasp sharply and withdraw your hand as though burned. 

“that was wrong,” you say urgently. “you cannot touch me like that.”

Gojo sighs. “you really are devoted to that old man, aren’t you?” 

“we both belong to Lord Sukuna,” you reply, emphasizing his proper title. “you must respect his authority over us both.” 

“maybe you belong to Sukuku,” Gojo says; you cringe at his inane nickname for Lord Sukuna, but you suppose anything is better than merely calling him an old man. “i, on the other hand, only belong to me, myself, and i.” 

you exhale in irritation. no matter how great a sorcerer Satoru Gojo is, his arrogance is certainly grating. part of you wishes you had left him severed in two — at least he was quieter that way. you recall Lord Sukuna once saying that the greatest sorcerers always seemed to possess even greater mental eccentricities; Satoru Gojo certainly proves that theory.

to your annoyance, as he speaks, he takes your hand in his again. you are bemused to find, however, that you do not wish to remove it. his hands are wiry, yet so powerful. there is power within your hands as well, you muse as you intertwine your fingers almost instinctively. your irritation, admiration, and pride are all coalescing into a confusing burn of…passion. how inconvenient. 

 “you are rather presumptuous, are you not?” comes a voice from the doorway. you gasp and tear your hand from Gojo’s once more, immediately prostrating yourself before Lord Sukuna. Gojo makes no move to even bow his head, meanwhile. typical.

“rise, y/n,” Lord Sukuna continues. “you must be giving our guest a rather unsavory impression of me with your theatrics.” slowly, you raise your face from the floor and see Lord Sukuna has crouched before you. he takes your face in one of his hands. you shiver — it has been so long since you have felt the touch of his true form. “am i not a benevolent master to you?” he murmurs; his face is so close that you can feel his warm, humid breath on the shell of your ear. it is all you can do not to tremble from desire. 

with you still reeling from the close contact, Lord Sukuna rises smoothly back to his feet and saunters to Gojo’s bedside. 

“you seem in high spirits, Satoru Gojo. i feared i had gone too far with you,” Lord Sukuna says, his tone casual as though he had not cloven the younger man’s body in two just hours earlier.

“oh, i can take much more than that, old man,” Gojo says, innuendo easily discernible from his tone. you cannot stop yourself from rolling your eyes; from what you had seen thus far, Satoru Gojo seemed to flirt with everybody he meets. that said, the image of Lord Sukuna and Satoru Gojo, of what Gojo’s playful tone was implying…your mind’s eye is running amok, loathe as you are to admit it. doubtlessly Lord Sukuna’s true form and the sleepless stress of the evening are perverting your mind in unforeseen ways, you reassure yourself.

Lord Sukuna seems tickled by Gojo’s irreverence, and you try not to feel envious. “is that so?” he inquires. 

“a credit to your lovely healer, i gotta say,” Gojo continues, his shocking blue eyes twinkling as they meet yours. “she has a rare talent. you sure you need her? i have half a mind to take her with me when we’re done here.” 

you know Gojo is being insufferable right now, and moreover irreverent to Lord Sukuna. you know that. but he’s just so handsome, and so appreciative, and so talented in his own right…you feel powerless to stop the breath from catching in your throat, flustered at his attention. 

you find yourself thinking about how his smooth skin felt beneath your touch; cool, then warm as you breathed life back into him with your reverse cursed technique. taut, pulsating with the cursed power and blood in his veins. 

so lost are you in your meditations of Gojo’s flesh that you nearly miss what Lord Sukuna replies.

“y/n certainly is a first rate sorcerer,” he says, flinging a fond look over his shoulder at you; predictably, you preen at his praise. 

“what i enjoy most about y/n’s skill,” he continues, “is her fastidiousness. she leaves no stone unturned. in healing, jujutsu sorcery…and everything else. isn’t that right?” he asks you. 

“y-you are too kind, Lord Sukuna,” you bluster, trembling like a newborn fawn. you are usually so comfortable with him, but the presence of a stranger is making you look upon Lord Sukuna with new eyes again. 

“and i trust you have been equally thorough with our guest?” Lord Sukuna proceeds. 

“of course, Lord Sukuna.” 

“how disappointing to hear you lie to me, y/n,” Lord Sukuna tuts. “i know you have not been fully attentive to Satoru Gojo’s recovery.” 

your face grows hot. what did you do wrong? you take pride in your work, after all; you would never do a sloppy job no matter the patient, but especially not for one so important to Lord Sukuna.

“my lord? i am afraid i misunderstand you. i have followed only the most careful healing protocols,” you say; this is as close as you dare come to talking back. Lord Sukuna is kind and merciful and great, but much like the fire he commands, his warmth can flare uncontrollably and singe everything in its vicinity if you are not cautious. 

 “have you made absolutely sure, for example, that Satoru Gojo’s new body is completely functional?” Lord Sukuna prods. he has now turned to face you. one set of his arms is crossed over his chest, while the other is crossed behind his back. his face looks stern, but the mouth on his stomach betrays a smirk. 

“Satoru Gojo seems to be functioning as i would expect, my lord,” you reply.

“show me,” he says, stepping aside from Satoru Gojo’s bed. his body had been obscuring Gojo from your view, but you see now that the younger sorcerer has been watching the exchange with a hungry grin. there is clearly a subtext you are missing, but you dare not speculate what it is. 

you approach Gojo and perform an examination of his body, as you would any of your patients. you test his reflexes, and check his pupils’ dilation and contraction (during the latter, they look like just a pinprick lost in an ocean. nobody ever warned you of the six eyes’ beauty). when you palpate his ribs, he groans slightly; you feel the sound vibrate through your fingers.    

“he is recovering as i might expect, Lord Sukuna. of course, we must keep him under observation, but —” 

Lord Sukuna cuts you off with an impatient click of his tongue. “i will not tolerate your inattention to detail!” he growls. your heart starts beating violently, feeling like it’s throwing itself against your breast from within. 

you fight to keep your voice steady. 

“please forgive my stupidity, my lord,” you grovel, prostrating yourself once more. “i truly am unsure of what more you want me to check. please, if you could just help me, i promise this will never occur again.” 

you are mortified to feel the white-hot prickling of tears at the corners of your eyes. Lord Sukuna had never spoken to you this way, not even when you had just begun working for him. back then, you had known next to nothing compared to your knowledge now.  you rack your useless brain for something, anything, you might have missed, and come up empty. stupid, stupid girl. you just know this is the fault of Satoru Gojo, that irritating, gorgeous interloper. it is even more humiliating to be berated like this in his presence.

at Lord Sukuna’s silence, you direct your eyes as high as they can go from your position on the ground. you cannot see his face from this angle but you see his broad second mouth has gone from smirking to smiling outright with all its teeth. is he…not actually angry? 

you raise your head a little further, emboldened by the sight, and see Lord Sukuna himself smiling down at you, his two expressions identical. 

“what a pretty sight you make,” he coos, “on all fours looking up at me like that. my pliant, obedient girl.” 

he lowers one of his hands to cup himself through his loose pants, and you clench your thighs together; you are immune to neither the effect of his words, nor to the sight before you. 

he seamlessly bends down and raises you to your feet; as he holds you against him, it’s all you can do to hold yourself back from rutting against his massive body. but Lord Sukuna has always valued your restraint, and you know he has something planned for you. 

he rotates you now so your back is to him, and cages you tightly to his body with all four arms. you gasp; you have forgotten this delicious sensation, of being so thoroughly engulfed by Lord Sukuna that it is almost as if he has subsumed you entirely. he has turned you to face Gojo, who has been watching the scene unfold with great interest. you feel Lord Sukuna’s hardness growing behind you, but you resist the urge to grind into it and remain perfectly still. his pliant, obedient girl.

“now, go attend to our guest,” he says, tucking a strand of hair behind your ear with a finger. 

“yes, my lord,” you breathe, so aroused that you are nearly in pain.

 he then bends down until his lips tickle the back of your ear, making you shiver.

“show Satoru Gojo that that mouth of yours is meant for greater things than just making pretty little apologies to me,” he murmurs; you feel his voice reverberate through your whole body. the last thing you want to do is detach yourself from Lord Sukuna right now, but you know what  he desires of you, and you are always so eager to impress him. this is one of the things he loves about you, you know.

you return to Satoru Gojo’s bed as though to continue your examination; this time, however, you straddle him, desperate for just an ounce of friction to relieve your throbbing arousal. 

“i thought you had forgotten about me,” he pouts. 

“stop speaking, you stupid, beautiful man,” you reply, before tearing a kiss from his mouth. his lips are still slightly chapped from his hours of unconsciousness, and you rake your teeth across them. he groans into your mouth as you roll your hips until you feel him beginning to grow hard beneath you; the sensation sense frissons of pleasure through you, but you are single-minded in your task. you break your kiss abruptly and sit back, smirking at the pathetic whine Gojo lets out at your sudden absence. 

Gojo is only wearing a simple robe you had dressed him in after repairing him; this provides you with convenient access to conduct your examination. you withdraw a vial of oil you had kept in the pocket of your own robes (admittedly in anticipation of Lord Sukuna’s arrival), spread it across your hand, and begin stroking him. “it seems that everything is  in working order,” you remark as his erection grows under your expert ministrations. he moans and bucks into your hand. 

“p-please…” Gojo pants. the sound of his neediness goes straight to your core, which is rapidly growing wetter. this is not the time to pay attention to yourself, though; not when you’re attending to a patient. 

“‘please’ what, Satoru Gojo?” you tease; you know he has wanted to feel your mouth around him ever since Lord Sukuna alluded to it. you are enjoying watching this powerful sorcerer squirm by your hand, however. you glance over your shoulder and see Lord Sukuna is stroking himself off as well, his pants doffed entirely. you gulp; it has been so very long since Lord Sukuna has been in his own body; the sight of his girth is making you flush with desire. 

meeting your gaze, Lord Sukuna blows a kiss in your direction, and you bite your lip to keep yourself from whining in sheer need to have him inside you. the sooner you obey him and pleasure Satoru Gojo, the sooner you may have the honor of feeling him stretch your walls; and so, you turn back to your guest. 

Gojo has the most pathetic look in his stunning blue eyes, driven half mad by yet unfulfilled lust. his plush lips are twisted in a pained grimace. you see him moving his hand to give himself the pleasure you are denying him, but you hold it in place firmly. 

“you’ve been such a patient boy so far; don’t ruin it now,” you coo, nipping his lower lip. you then undo his robe and crawl backwards until your face hovers over his engorged cock. you place a light kiss at its warm tip, licking off a bead of precum, before looking back up at him through heavily lidded eyes. Gojo tilts his head back, exposing the delicate white expanse of his throat. 

“Please, y/n!” he cries. “i need you!” 

the sound of your name on his needy tongue is having quite an effect on you, and you finally take pity on him; he only just recovered, after all. in one smooth motion, you take as much of his length as you can in your mouth. Gojo groans at the feeling of the warm wetness engulfing his cock, and you begin moving your head up and down, complementing the motions with your tongue as you cup his balls with your free hand. 

“feel free to gag her,” Lord Sukuna calls from his corner of the room. “her little throat can take it.” 

Lord Sukuna instructing Gojo on how to fuck your mouth is turning you on more than you can handle, and you moan involuntarily around his length. Gojo threads his fingers through your hair and pushes your head down on him; you swallow and feel him filling your mouth, his tip battering your throat mercilessly. you can tell from his increasing pace, from the guttural growls the feeling of you is drawing from him, that he must be getting close. 

finally, finally, you feel a strong, calloused, beautifully familiar pair of hands dig into the flesh of your hips, and you could cry in relief. 

“you have been such a good girl for me,” Lord Sukuna hums sensually. “and i always reward loyalty.” you buck your hips backwards into him, raising them to provide him readier access to your dripping cunt. you feel the pads of his thumbs stroke over your ass as his tongue begins lapping at your folds. his second tongue, you can tell, from its breadth and roughness plundering you. for all its added size compared to his primary tongue, however,  Lord Sukuna is no less exacting with it, and he is soon circling your clit with painful accuracy. he does not wait long before giving you the pleasure you crave, and almost embarrassingly quickly, you come all over his massive tongue with a wanton moan. 

with the sound of your orgasm, and the feel of your moan vibrating around him, Gojo fists your hair even more tightly and releases hot ropes into your throat with a growl. 

“swallow it all,” Lord Sukuna commands, reaching forward to stroke your hair. “swallow it down for me.” you are nothing if not obedient, and you dutifully swallow Gojo’s whole load, not letting a single drop go to waste. Gojo leans back on the headboard, spent, and relaxes his vice grip on your hair. you pop your lips off him, licking them clean and smirking to yourself at your ability to have someone like Satoru Gojo at your mercy. 

“i believe our guest needs time to rest before we continue,” you hear Lord Sukuna say from behind you. you turn and see that he is leaning back casually on one of the other beds in the healing quarters. “let us leave him for the time being, y/n.” 

you are a little disappointed to be stopping already, but you comply; Lord Sukuna is probably correct that too much excitement for Gojo could hinder his healing process. you make your way towards the doorway, yawning a little, when you feel a firm hand close around your wrist. before you have a chance to react, you’re roughly tugged backwards, spinning directly into Lord Sukuna’s firm chest. 

“i don’t believe i dismissed you, did i?” he purrs into your ear, and a thrill of excitement slithers through your body. 

“did i?” he repeats, pinching the tender skin at your waist at your silence. 

“n-no,” you gasp, hardly able to focus over your excitement for what will inevitably follow. 

Lord Sukuna twists his hand, making you hiss lightly at the pleasurable pain. 

“‘no’ what, y/n? how is it you should address me?” 

“no, Lord Sukuna,” you manage to breathe out. he lets out a low chuckle that reverberates through his chest before bending you over an empty bed, holding both your wrists behind your back with one of his hands as he pushes your head down with another. you are already incredibly aroused when you feel a third hand begin to explore your slick folds. 

“already so wet for me, are you?” he teases; you can hear the smirk in his voice. you can only whimper in response. he easily inserts two fingers into you, eliciting a sharp cry when he hooks them around and lightly tickles the sensitive spot that can make you come apart. 

“now,” you manage to grind out between your teeth. “please, my lord…i need you inside me now…” 

“making demands now?” Lord Sukuna taunts. “we certainly are feeling cheeky this evening, aren’t we?” 

in spite of his words of chastisement, however, Lord Sukuna seems intent on granting your wishes, and you feel his stiff head, moist with precum, brushing once, twice, thrice against your entrance, building up friction. then, in one decisive motion, he enters you at last; Lord Sukuna was, by all definitions and especially mortal standards, extremely well-endowed; however, you have been ready for him for so long that his length faces little resistance. you sigh in relief at the feel of his massive girth stretching your walls, making you feel so full and complete. at times like this, you feel that your body was created to accommodate him, that being used like this by him was your most sacred purpose.

you push back against him, trying to seat him even more deeply within yourself. in response, he strokes your hair affectionately. he then pulls out slightly, and with one more thrust, he bottoms out in you with a groan. 

he begins to drive into you with greater speed and urgency, two of his hands holding your hips in place so tightly that you know his broad fingertips will leave bruises. he adjusts his angle, pushing your face into the mattress and bending over you until your bodies are flush, and he continues at an unrelenting pace. your pleasure continues to build as he bottoms out again and again inside you, his massive second tongue slavering lasciviously over the curves of your back, until you come for the second time that night. you cry out in ecstasy without shame, feeling your walls clench even more tightly around Lord Sukuna. he groans at the sensation and sinks his teeth into your shoulder as he empties himself into you until his come drips down your thighs. 

utterly sated, you begin to crawl out from under Lord Sukuna’s massive form, your legs trembling with exertion, pleasure, and pain alike. your shaky breath leaves  your lungs all at once when he abruptly flips you on your back. he is so imposing and beautiful, hovering over you like this, with an inscrutable look in his cruel, narrow eyes. 

“i believe i already told you, y/n,” he growls, “you are dismissed only when i dismiss you. and i am nowhere near through with you yet.” 

holding himself up with two arms, he takes your hand with a third and draws it down until it is around his cock, which is already hard again. 

“look what you do to me,” he murmurs, before using your hand to brush his tip against your still-tender vulva. 

“i’m not yet ready, my lord,” you whimper weakly, trying to wriggle out from his grasp to no avail. you gasp as he grinds himself between your thighs and against your slickened entrance, growing harder still. the friction almost surpasses pleasure to pain after your powerful recent orgasm, and you keen loudly, unable to help yourself. “i-it’s…too much…i can’t take it,” you protest, tears rolling down your cheeks from the overstimulation.

Lord Sukuna promptly silences your noisy cries by clamping a swift hand to your throat. 

“i alone dictate what you can and cannot take,” he declares, gently pressing on the sides of your neck and slipping a hand between your thighs as you squeeze them together. with uncharacteristic tenderness, he then kisses the tears from your cheeks.

 “and i know you can take this.” 

he stares into your eyes until you assent with a silent nod, and he smiles.

“good girl,” he whispers, before using his hand to pry your thighs apart and positioning himself properly.  he buries himself inside you again, this time with minimal resistance — between your and his combined juices, you are sopping wet now. encouraged, he hitches your leg over his shoulder for deeper access to your core and begins thrusting into you in earnest. from this new angle, he drives right into your most sensitive inner point, and you are sure your cries can be heard throughout the compound. you hardly care who can hear you now, though; you hardly even pay attention to Gojo, who is now looking fully alert and wide-eyed at the show he is getting. 

you dig your fingernails into Lord Sukuna’s sinuous shoulders and cry out again and again until your voice grows hoarse.    

“say my name,” Lord Sukuna commands between his own grunts of pleasure. 

“L-Lord Sukuna,” you moan, your voice shaking as his thrusts increase in pace. he wraps his hand around your throat again. 

“my true name, y/n” he growls. he drives into you faster; you know he is close, and it is your privilege to bring him over the edge.

as soon as he releases his grasp on your neck, you reach up, stroking your hand through his unruly hair before pulling his ear down to your lips. “as you wish, Ryomen,” you purr into his ear. he moans and nearly folds you in half as he drives into you at a diabolical pace. as he reaches his peak, he withdraws his length from you and unleashes his load all over your stomach, marking you as his own; the thought that you had this effect on him, this power over him, multiplies your own pleasure, and you climax once again, your legs shaking and toes curling in sheer bliss. 

Lord Sukuna rolls off of your body, both of you breathing heavily. 

“now, y/n,” he pants, “you are dismissed. i shall attend to our guest in your stead.” 

your exertions have exhausted you, but you are still obedient to him before anything else. and so, covered in both of your comes, his saliva, and a sheen of your own sweat, you bow deeply, and excuse yourself from the room. you are so utterly sated, so pleasurably sore, that all you can think of is taking a hot bath and resting.

well…almost all you can think of.

Lord Sukuna’s final statement has piqued your curiosity, however. and that is why, rather than returning right away to your own quarters, you find yourself kneeling on the floor peering around the curtain closing off the medical wing. if you are perfectly silent and still, you can remain undetected. besides, you reason, Gojo is still your patient, and so it behooves you to keep a close eye on his recovery.

(why leave everything to the imagination, after all?)

by the time you are settled in from your covert viewing spot, you see that Lord Sukuna is standing by Gojo’s bedside. the younger sorcerer is fully awake and alert now, peering up inquisitively with those blue eyes of his. 

“is it finally my turn now, then?” he asks; you note that he sounds slightly petulant and roll your eyes. was he really jealous now, of all times? 

You can only see his muscled back  from where you sit, but you know from how his shoulders shake that Lord Sukuna is laughing at Gojo’s insubordination. 

“you have seen what i demand, Satoru Gojo,” he says, crossing both sets of arms. “do you believe you can keep up, even in your state?”

you know that Lord Sukuna’s line of questioning is only pretense, of course. you recall why it was that Lord Sukuna had brought back Satoru Gojo for you to heal. and you remember his request — i want this one staying pretty for me, he had said. 

“of course i can ‘keep up,’” Gojo scoffs. “can you keep up, old man? you seemed to get pretty tired just then.” 

you grimace at Gojo’s disrespect, but Lord Sukuna is made of sterner stuff, and he just laughs even louder before clapping a pair of hands around Gojo’s beautiful face. you note that Gojo flinches, if only for a split second.

“such a mouth on you,” he hums, brushing a thumb across Gojo’s bottom lip. “just look at you. we will have to do something about that attitude.”

“like what?” Gojo asks, his eyes glimmering with anticipation that you can see even from where you sit. “what exactly is it you would do, Sukuku dear?”

“you seem to have your own ideas already. what is it you would have me do?” you can hear Lord Sukuna’s grin, even if you cannot see it.

Gojo simply winks.

“here’s an idea. why don’t you split me in half again?”

Lord Sukuna laughs heartily before leaning forward over Gojo’s bed, slightly obscuring your view. 

“what an idea, Satoru Gojo. would you enjoy that?”

for some reason, Gojo does not answer right away; you try to crane your neck around to see what is happening, but he speaks again soon.

“y…yes…” he responds, suddenly breathless. “i believe i w-would.” 

suddenly, you realize that, while you cannot see all of Gojo’s body from this angle, you can see one of Lord Sukuna’s arms moving rapidly up and down, and you can see a blush beginning to color Gojo’s delicate cheeks. your breath catches in your throat as you put together what it is you are witnessing. scrambling for a better view, you decide that both men are occupied enough that you can creep back into the corner of the room and hide behind one of the beds for a clearer angle.

“and are you certain you can truly take me? all of me?” Sukuna inquires, continuing his businesslike tone as though he is not currently stroking his rival off.

“mm-of course,” Gojo keens. 

“‘of course’ who?” Lord Sukuna prompts, repeating the routine he loves to do with you. 

“forget your own name, Sukuku? you gettin’ senile?” he pants with a grin that is equal parts lascivious and mischievous. this is bratty behavior Lord Sukuna never had to suffer from you, so you wonder with eager anticipation how he will respond. 

Lord Sukuna merely tuts in response. “what a shame. whether you can accommodate all of me or not, we will have to fix that smart mouth of yours first.” 

he fists a hand in Gojo’s fine white hair, easily palming his full skull as he pulls back until the blue-eyed sorcerer is looking straight up at him. 

“i happen to know the best cure for a smart mouth,” Gojo says with a feral grin. he darts his tongue out and swipes it swiftly across Lord Sukuna’s swollen tip. 

“get on with it, then,” Lord Sukuna growls, roughly forcing Gojo’s head onto his length. you grimace at the vigor with which Lord Sukuna rams himself down Gojo’s throat which looks so dainty to you, but he slurps eagerly on it; it seems Satoru Gojo is never one to shy away from a challenge. 

watching Lord Sukuna use Gojo’s throat so mercilessly, and Gojo meeting the task with such enthusiasm, you find yourself unable to resist snaking a hand down between your legs, where you feel heat and tension building once again. as you toy with yourself, careful to remain as quiet as possible, you see Sukuna pull Gojo’s mouth from his still-hard cock with a wet pop. 

“you have proven yourself to me,” he says, releasing his grip on Gojo’s hair to caress it tenderly back from his face. “and it is time for your reward.” you hold your breath; this should be a treat for you, as well.

with a grip on Gojo’s shoulders, he raises him from the bed; Gojo, still a little shaky on his legs, braces himself back against Lord Sukuna’s body. Gojo is by no means a small man, but his form is still engulfed when he is up against Lord Sukuna; you bite your lip at the thought and rub yourself faster. 

Lord Sukuna reaches around Gojo to the bedside table, where you had deposited your vial of oil, and lubricates his fingers with a few drops. his hands should still be slick with all of your combined secretions, you reason, but Lord Sukuna always takes extra precautions given his immensity. then, gently bending Gojo back over, he inserts one finger. Gojo throws his head back against Lord Sukuna’s chest and groans as he gets accustomed to the feeling, and he moans outright as Lord Sukuna inserts his second finger. 

the sight and sound send hot coils of pleasure through you, and you have to clap a hand to your mouth to keep yourself from mirroring the sounds Gojo is making. 

“are you prepared for me to split you in half again, as you so eloquently put it?” Lord Sukuna purrs against the shell Gojo’s reddening ear. 

“yes!” Gojo cries without hesitation.  

“would you beg for it?” Sukuna prods, not one to give his rival what he is asking for so easily. 

“please!” when Sukuna makes no moves to proceed, Gojo cries out again. “please, Lord Sukuna,” he breathes. “please make me yours.” 

“good,” Lord Sukuna says, leaves a bruising bite at the nape of Gojo’s neck. “well said.” then, preparing his length and using both sets of his arms to position himself and Gojo optimally, Lord Sukuna enters him with agonizing slowness. you are unsure of whether you even thought to hold yourself back from moaning this time, but it is drowned out in any case by Gojo’s own needy vocalizations. 

as he pumps in and out of Gojo, all three of you are overcome by your own pleasure, by the complicated dynamics you have brought into the medical wing and worked out in such a raw and wild way. your earlier feelings of confused irritation for Gojo dissipate as you watch his beautiful form twisting in paroxysms of pleasure; in him, you see yourself. as the two men climax at nearly the same time, scattering their pearly semen across the sheets and each other, you find yourself peaking soon after, tears streaming down your face in sheer joy.

As Lord Sukuna settles Gojo back down into the bed for him to continue his recovery, he gives him a fond pat on the head.

“you were magnificent, Satoru Gojo.”

the sorcerer gives a little self-satisfied smile before falling into a deep slumber nearly immediately, and you make a mental note to ensure that all the exertion did not compromise his healing in any way. before Lord Sukuna can turn back around, you gather your earlier discarded robe around yourself and quietly crawl back out of the room and behind the curtain, pleased with yourself for not being caught. 

or so you thought.

“there is no need to exit on my account, y/n,” he calls, not turning around. you gasp before re-entering sheepishly.

“i apologize, my lord. i merely wished not to disturb you both, so i did not make myself known,” you explain rather weakly. 

“i am pleased you… enjoyed yourself,” he says, finally looking over his shoulder at you with a knowing smile that makes you shiver with shame.

 “you seem to have enjoyed yourself as well, my lord,” you reply; your envy of Gojo for earning Lord Sukuna’s attention is building back up, and you are unable to keep it from your voice. 

“oh, y/n,” Lord Sukuna chuckles fondly, closing the space between you with long strides before he is clasping you to him. 

“Satoru Gojo is a novelty.” he leans down until your mouths meet, and your breath catches.

“you, however,” he murmurs against your lips, his breath hot, “are mine. do you understand?” 

“yes, my lord,” you breathe back into him, hardly daring to move.   

he steps back from you first, calling for Uraume much to your confusion. the soft spoken chef, a long-time friend of yours inside the compound, appears with their characteristic quiet swiftness. much like yourself, Lord Sukuna has implicit trust in their devotion, and so often depends on them for personal tasks even beyond their formal role in the kitchen. as such, you have both built a mutual respect for one another. you nod a cordial greeting at them, which they return.

“you called for me, Lord Sukuna?”  they ask with their careful diction. 

“please draw a bath and get y/n cleaned up for me,” he says. 

you look at him inquiringly, and he chuckles darkly, his previous tenderness all gone.

“you and your pleasure both belong to me, y/n,” he reminds you. “and i know i did not give you my permission to…enjoy the show.”  

you gulp, and he turns back to Uraume. 

“get her prettied up for me,” he continues  with a devious grin of anticipation, “and bring her back to me so i may discipline her appropriately for her disobedience.”

[space-mango-company]

Stranger | Chapter 2

Chapter Links: [1], [2], [3], [4], [5]

TW: Descriptions of Violence, Mentions of Cannibalism

Tags: Feyd-Rautha Harkonnen x Atreides!Reader, Arranged Marriage, Eventual Smut (still not in this chapter lmao), No use of y/n, Original Characters, Canon what canon

Word Count: 2k

A/N: So... this was posted prematurely a couple hours ago. This is the actual finished longer version. If you don't know what I'm talking about, thank god. Sorry this took so long, lmao

Just letting you guys know that my knowledge of the lore is purely based off of the movies and the Dune wiki rabbit hole I fell into right after watching part two. I also took a few liberties with the canon here.

I'm super open to constructive criticism, or any criticism at all (feel free to absolutely roast me). Like I mentioned, I've never written fanfic before so I'd love to hear your thoughts!

The evening of your first day in Giedi Prime was celebrated with a banquet where you were introduced to the most important people on the planet. You've heard many stories of the ruthlessness and brutality of the Harkonnens, hence surprised by the courtly welcome during the dinner. Although you did your best to politely ignore the Baron who floated at the head of the table being fed by servants.

You were sat beside his nephew who, despite your mother's education, has evaded your insight. You couldn't quite get a read on him.

Feyd-Rautha whispers to you amid the buzzing conversations of the banquet hall, "are you enjoying the food, little hawk?"

You shoot him a questioning look.

"I like your hairpin," he sneers.

You resist from reaching to touch the Atreides symbol affixed in your hair.

"We don't see such ornaments often here." He quietly laughs in his devilish way, only too amused with himself.

Ah, you realize. He means to torment you.

"Seems early for pet names," you say, picking at your plate, "we've only just met."

"Oh, and yet we are to be wed in less than a week's time," his raspy voice rings in your ear, "I should like to be familiar with my future wife, Lady Atreides."

The marriage pact had been signed when you were only a little girl. Inheriting your father's inclinations, you swore you would uphold your duty, undeterred by the gruesome and abhorrent stories about the Harkonnens—because you knew that centuries of conflict could end within a generation with this union. You were a willing bride.

And yet.

You give him a smile that, to those not privy to your conversation, would seem genuine, "You know nothing of me, na-Baron."

"I should like to learn," you doubt his sincerity but care not enough to discern it. He takes a smug bite of a forkful of meat, "perhaps tomorrow, you shall learn something of me."

The following morning Iassa helps you into another black gown, this time with a veil in anticipation of the black sun.

"Is it not dangerous for Feyd-Rautha to wager his life for a show?" you question.

"The na-Baron is a skilled fighter, my lady. He will emerge victorious," Iassa is straight-faced as she drapes the veil over you.

"Yes, I do not doubt it, but given he is the Baron's heir. Does it not seem a touch irresponsible to even risk it at all."

Not that you actually cared for his life, you just expected that the Harkonnens would be concerned with the preservation of their house regardless of their brutality. You recall your grandfather who got himself killed fighting bulls for sport.

"The na-Baron will be fighting war prisoners. They will be drugged beforehand. It is perfectly safe, my lady."

"Oh." You couldn't decide if you were disappointed or not, "I see."

Iassa seemed intent on dropping the subject, so you do.

You stand before a mirror and take a look at yourself. It is impossible not to be reminded of your mother. She was never one for vanity, but you like to think there was a part of her that always enjoyed the elegant dresses she and you 'had' to wear. You allow yourself a somber smile behind your veil.

"You look beautiful, my lady," Iassa curtsies.

"Thank you," you look at her bowed figure, gray robes made more dull by the stark black choker on her neck. You were sure she was at least 2 standard years younger than you are and it had only been a few months since you came of age. You wondered if she liked pretty dresses too.

Before you can ask her, there is a knock at your door.

The house steward, Jaromir, clears his throat when Iassa opens it for you, "The na-Baron requests your presence before he enters the arena."

Heavy doors open for you in one of the chambers beneath the arena. You are greeted by the sight of a half-dressed Feyd-Rautha being helped into his armor by a servant.

"Lady Atreides," he looks you up and down, "I hope you slept well."

You bow your head in acknowledgment.

"Your knives, master," a large man whom you assume to be the bladesmith presents Feyd-Rautha with two daggers.

The young Harkonnen takes one and caresses the blade with his fingers.

"I've come to wish the brave na-Baron well before his fight in the arena," you say in false earnestness.

He smiles at your inflation of his ego.

"Though I must say, I am relieved it is all for show. I would not like to see my groom wounded before we are wed."

"For show?" Feyd-Rautha tilts his head and you see his arrogant facade show the slightest crack.

"Yes, I've heard your opponents will be drugged will they not?" your voice dripping with innocence, "to ensure your safety, of course."

His grip on the dagger tightens, "and where did you hear this exactly?"

You sense the awkwardness and tension in the servants. The one who had helped don Feyd-Rautha's armor has quietly retreated to the far side of the chamber. There is a subtle tremble in the hands of one holding a plate of towels. You finally notice the three women piled upon a raised platform glaring at you.

"Just voices around the fortress," you shrug.

A deep breath recovers Feyd-Rautha's smug expression. "Call for the warden," he orders one of the guards by the door, "tell him to prepare new prisoners. Sober ones."

"My lord, you need not endanger yourself," you feign worry.

"Nonsense." The na-Baron walks closer to tower over you, "My lady bride deserves to see my true prowess."

He sees through your challenge, but you don't care. Seeing his self-satisfied smirk wiped from his face for even just a second was worth it.

"Besides," he turns away from you to inspect the second knife, "my darlings enjoy meat that's fought for its life."

The three women sneer at this and you see their sharp teeth as they hiss amongst themselves.

You've heard of Feyd-Rautha's concubines long before you arrived on Giedi Prime. Tales of their taste for human flesh were one of the things that tested your resolve in fulfilling the marriage pact. You didn't mind that the na-Baron would keep other women. It would result in less of his attentions on yourself, you figured. It was their perverse appetite that nauseated you.

A look of revulsion hides behind your veil which you sense they would be all too happy to rip to shreds.

"I will see you in the stands, little hawk," Feyd-Rautha whispers to you as he waves for a guard to escort you out.

You do your best to drown out the noise of what seemed to be a countless audience that came to see the na-Baron fight. You could understand now why they uphold such brutal traditions. The people are so excited for it.

On the other side of the arena, you sense Vladimir Harkonnen watching you from the Baron's Box that towered over the whole arena. The blazing sun only helps you avoid looking in his direction. You were sat at a viewing box, still for nobility and separated from the masses, but much lower and closer to the sands of the arena. Jaromir had told you that you were to 'give the na-Baron your favor'.

Before long, the master of ceremonies announces Feyd-Rautha's entrance in Giedi Prime Speech. They are celebrating his betrothal to you and the union of Harkonnen and Atreides, you translate in your head. You wonder if the people care for the politics of the Great Houses. They seemed no less excited to cheer at your name despite the centuries-old blood feud.

Massive doors open as the na-Baron walks into the arena. His arms outstretched holding his knives like an extension of his limbs. He riles up the crowd as he walks towards the Baron's Box and kneels to his uncle. He then rises and walks toward you, smirking under the stark light of the black sun.

You may not fear earning the Harkonnens' contempt, but you were the Duke of Caladan's daughter and you knew that the favor of the people was invaluable.

You stand and walk to the edge of the viewing box. The glowing smile you reveal as you lift your veil draws cheers from the crowd that rival what Feyd-Rautha received. You produce a pure white handkerchief from your dress pocket and make a show of kissing it and waving the cloth at the buzzing crowd. You throw it off the edge and it floats toward the na-Baron who had moved both daggers to one hand to catch it. He looks up at you with what you think could be the seeds of respect and tucks the cloth into the tight armband around his right bicep.

He turns back to the audience and raises his knives in a war cry. The crowd explodes in guttural cheers and applause. Feyd-Rautha takes his position in the middle of the arena as his first opponent is released into the white sands.

You've heard of the Harkonnen heir's aptitude in single combat. It's time to see if the stories were true or if it was just another part of their menacing facade.

You were handed a pair of spyglasses to observe with. The two fighters approach each other, the prisoner wielding a knife of his own. Feyd-Rautha holds a taunting stance. The prisoner was sober, you were sure, but even without the spyglasses, you could see he was weak. You surmised the Harkonnen cells weren't very hospitable. He attempts a swipe but the na-Baron parries with ease. Another and the na-Baron dodges. Zooming in, you could see Feyd-Rautha's twisted amusement. He was toying with the poor man—and the people loved it.

The crowds cheered at the clashing of metal, thundering when the na-Baron drew first blood by slashig his opponent's arm. It wasn't long before Feyd-Rautha's dagger had impaled the prisoner's heart. There was no pause before a second prisoner was brought out to meet a similar fate.

Feyd-Rautha stood unwounded, seething with exhilaration. He enjoyed this; the thrill of killing. He basked in the roar of the crowd. You had never ended a life before, but some deep part of you could almost understand how he felt in that moment.

A third prisoner enters the arena. He looked older than the first two, bearded and taller. He reminded you of Gurney Halleck, the Atreides Warmaster. This man certainly wasn't at his prime but you could tell he would not go down as easily as the first two.

The warrior holds his blade out in a firm fighting stance, refusing to make the first move. You notice picadors in black suits have entered the arena, circling the na-Baron and his opponent. Feyd-Rautha lunges at the prisoner and a quick series of parries from both sides occur. You see the finesse in the na-Baron's movement. He recognizes his opponent's skill and he is taking this one seriously. You were not sure what you expected of the Harkonnen's fighting style but Feyd-Rautha was vicious but precise. The crowd gasps when the prisoner disarms one of the na-Baron's knives. The warrior manages to get a grip on Feyd-Rautha's armed hand and aims to pierce the na-Baron's neck with his blade. The na-Baron struggled against his hold and the arid air was thick with anticipation.

You were unsure what outcome you desired as you stared through your spyglass. Perhaps this warrior kills your betrothed. What then? Would you really be able to go back to Caladan's windy cliffs again? Return to the arms of your mother as if it were all a bad dream? You wonder if when Feyd-Rautha becomes baron, and you his baroness, could you convince him to let you see your family.

The warrior's blade was dangerously close to your future husband's throat when one of the picadors lashes at the warrior. The na-Baron growls at the offending picador as the warrior is weakened. Feyd-Rautha pushes him off and allows him a moment to recover, taunting him to try again. Blades clash once more and after a sequence of quick ferocious movements, Feyd-Rautha's blade slashes the warrior's throat. Blood made black by the infrared of the sun splatters onto the na-Baron. He licks the darkness that landed on his lips. Heaving, he takes your bloodied handkerchief off his armband and raises it to you and the roaring crowd.

You did not even realize you were already standing, breathless at the sight.

Chapter Links: [1], [2], [3], [4], [5]

Taglist: @torchbearerkyle @austinswhitewolf @dreamlandcreations @emeraldsgirl @strawberryfieldsforevermore

[claymoresword]

The Realm's Delight

Rhaenyra Targaryen x Velaryon Fem!Reader

Summary: The entire realm of suitors tripping over themselves to take Rhaenyra to wife and yet the only person she has eyes for is you.

Pairing: Rhaenyra Targaryen x Reader

Wordcount: 1k

Warnings: smut, nsfw, top!rhaenyra

Note: first and foremost reader and rhaenyra are cousins clearly so if that bothers u maybe skip this one :/

been putting off writing rhaenyra for so long bc her characterisation is a little intimidating to me but i got over that fear finally (i think)

anyway i hope u enjoy this silly little thing and let me know what u think!

(sorry for the inaccurate high valyrian i dont speak the language)

You let out a yawn, the sheer banality of this morning's affair was shocking to you.

At Rhaenyra's request you were sat by her side as she listened to petitions from various Lords from all over the realm offering her their hand in marriage.

You scowl at the man before you, he had been going on about the state of his castle. Nothing of interest to you and certainly not to the Princess. If this was his idea of wooing a lady only the gods knew how he would be like as a husband.

"Bisa vala iksis uēpkta than aōha kepa."

(This man is older than your father.)

Rhaenyra's face contorts in amusement at your remark before looking down at her hands, fiddling with her rings out of disinterest.

"Tell me, lord Dondarrion did you think my great grandmother was as beautiful as they say?"

The Princess interupts the man mid sentence and you shake your head in disapproval.

Rhaenyra..

"This was half a century ago Princess" Lord Dondarrion responds, perplexed.

"Yes it was."

The entire court erupts with laughter, you stiffle a grin yourself.

The older man sulks before walking away, being last to catch on the Princess making a mockery of him.

"Bona iksin unseemly, dārilaros."

(That was unseemly, princess.)

Rhaenyra glances at you with a sly smirk before rolling her eyes.

"Issa unseemly syt zirȳla naejot jiōragon nyke zȳhon ondos."

(It is unseemly for him to offer me his hand.)

Boremund glares at the two of you. You throw him an innocent smile, very well knowing he has no notion of what is being said between you.

"Next!" He exclaims.

You were itching for these proceedings to conclude.

A young boy, he must have been no older than 10 and 2. You recognised his sigil, house Blackwood.

You fail to suppress your amusement paired with disbelief, an involuntarily laugh escapes your lips.

Rhaenyra mirrors your baffled expression.

"And now a boy." The Princess says with an exasperated tone.

"The Blackwoods are an ancient house with a formidable army. In the riverlands they once ruled as Kings." Lord Boremund states.

Rhaenyra nods, she decides to give the poor boy a chance.

He goes on and recites a rather well rehearsed speech. Voice trembling but otherwise full of conviction.

A rictus, albeit kind smile painted on Rhaenyra's face.

She is not convinced.

"If chosen as your match Princess, your days shall be easy and night's safe under my protection."

The boy says and you purse your lips, trying not to laugh aloud once again.

"Protection? The Princess has a dragon you dumb cunt."

One of Rhaenyra's many suitors exclaims from the crowd and the boy unsheathes his sword, summoning a challenge.

You roll your eyes. Whether it be a man grown or a little boy, they are all the same.

"We're leaving." Rhaenyra stands, swiftly grabbing your hand. Taking your leave by her side and matching her strut.

"Ser Criston, send word to the harbor and have Captain Oswin ready the ship for you."

"Lady y/n and I will leave on Dragonback. We will see you back at King's Landing."

Criston glances at you in confusion and you only give him a shrug.

"Princess, we're due in Bitterbridge in 3 days time."

Rhaenyra stops in her tracks, You, Criston and his men followed suit. The Princess glares at the Knight and he opposes for a moment before relenting.

"Very well, Princess."

--

Rhaenyra grabs your arm again forcing you to pick up the pace. You eventually find yourselves alone in a dimly lit hallway far from the commotion in the other room.

"Nyra–" You yelp, as she expertly pushes you up against a wall her hand resting against it.

She leans in capturing your lips into a searing kiss. You melt at the feeling of her mouth against yours, simply aching for her.

Rhaenyra's hands find your waist as she disconnects your lips. You nearly shiver under her intense stare. She watches your chest heave as you attempted to catch your breath. You notice her breathing just as heavily.

"I have been dying to do that all morning."

She kisses you again, this time your hand finds the back of her neck pulling her impossibly closer.

"Istin emagon ao sir."

(I must have you now)

Rhaenyra shifts her attention to your neck, placing wet kisses against it. You don't suppress the shiver this time and immediately feel her grin form against your neck.

"Ēdā nyke mōrī bantis."

(You had me last night.)

You tease, hand moving to rest on her shoulder.

"One night is not enough" She whispers before taking your bottom lip in between her teeth tugging at it. She kisses you again.

"With you it is never enough."

Your mouth opens wider and her tongue comes into contact with yours. A moan spills out of you directly into her mouth and Rhaenyra hums against your lips.

A rush of arousal shoots directly to your core. Rhaenyra would have her way with you infront of the entire court if she could.

Gods, you wish she would.

Rhaenyra lifts up your thigh and runs her hand under your dress resting it on your ass. You wrap your leg around her waist reflexively giving her easier access. A glimmer in her eyes as she takes the opportunity to slip her hand underneath your smallclothes, she could feel how wet you were as she swipes a finger through your folds.

"Rhaenyra, what if someone sees us?" You whimper as you fight the urge to grind your wanting core against her hand.

She leans forward, placing another kiss on your neck before sinking her teeth into it earning a desperate moan from you.

"I really don't care." She whispers and you feel your legs grow weaker.

Rhaenyra presses her palm against your center and you feel yourself move against her hand wantonly. She dips a finger into your entrance and you let out another moan.

"Ah– Rhaenyra, wait please."

You wanted to kick yourself for stopping her but you couldn't risk getting caught, not here.

Rhaenyra sighs before removing her hand from underneath your dress completely and you stand up on both feet. Your hands don't leave her shoulders however, needing the support.

"Issa daor litse."

(It is not fair)

You breathe out, after a moment's silence.

"Hm?"

"Lo nyke sia vala nyke could gūrogon ao naejot Zaldrīzesdōron se mazverdagon ao ñuha ābrazȳrys."

(If I were a man I could take you to Dragonstone and make you my wife.)

"Nobody would question it."

You suddenly feel tears well up in your eyes. Rhaenyra notices and places a tender kiss on your forehead. You quickly wrap your arms around her.

The both of you stay like that for a beat.

"Then take me to Dragonstone." Rhaenyra simply states.

You scoff.

"Do not mock me, Princess."

Rhaenyra lets out a chuckle before stepping away from you, intertwining your fingers.

"No, it isn't fair."

She lifts your intertwined hands to her lips and plants a kiss on the back of your palm.

She guides you down the hallway and the two of you resume your walk.

"Ivestragī's jikagon lenton."

(Let's go home)

[mrs-lockley]

Once Upon a December

Pairing: Hades & Persephone AU, Miguel O’Hara x WOC!Reader (no use of Y/N) Word Count: 4.5k  Warnings: Arranged marriage, implied age gap (reader is a couple centuries old and of age), mention of death and a child death/funeral (no actual death graphically described or specified), dark imagery of the Underworld, use and mentions of Greek mythology, conflicted feelings, magical realism, no time period specified Summary: In the early decades of your marriage to the god of the Underworld, you resented him for abruptly ending your maidenhood. As the decades go by, you learn that there is more to the man who rules the dead than you realize. One day, your husband takes you to Tartarus, the depths of the Underworld, to suggest a proposition.

Author's Note: Hi my little doves, I'm semi-back with a new fic! To be honest, this fic has been in my draft for 3 years (date of origin: 12/30/2020) with First Order!Poe originally, but I thought Miguel suited Hades much better. I have a few fics in my wips and it's honestly like Russian Roulette because i did not expect to complete a Miguel fic before a Jake fic, lol. Special thanks to @soft-girl-musings and @v4mpires0ap for supporting me in completing this and giving me feedback! This fic was also deeply inspired by this comic illustrated by @katadesmoi, another take on the Hades & Persephone myth. If you like to listen to music while reading, I highly suggest listening to this Once Upon a December playlist on Youtube. Happy reading! Likes are appreciated, but reblogs make my heart go warm 🤍

Tagging: @soft-girl-musings @v4mpires0ap @venting402 @musing-magpie @writefightandflightclub but only if you would like to read it!

You have seen this place before. The place where the stars fall to the earth, where the roots meet the soil, where the ocean meets the shore. 

Where the dead meet the living, where the living meet the dead. 

Your reflection mirrors you in the sky as you look up to the clouds with the whispering images of Earth shining down on you. On Earth, the clouds weep at the loss of the sun, but other clouds have gone soft with crystals catching the last kiss of sunlight before nightfall. Other places show the yellow sun shining over glistening forests and beaches, and some a starlight projection over snowfall. 

A snowflake flutters from the sky, and you stretch your palm to watch it melt on your skin. 

“It’s beautiful,” you whisper.

Underneath the moonlight, the trace of a smile tugs at your husband’s lips. He moves to stand beside you and the two of you gaze at the glassy sky above. 

Miguel keeps his distance, a shadow’s length between the two of you. 

For a brief moment, a sparkling ember is reflected in those brown eyes, only to quickly disappear within a blink and a slight shake of his head. 

Your husband was not malevolent, nor was he benevolent. Miguel was a man whose moral conviction strongly aligned with the laws of nature, life, and death. He takes no sides, but only stands in the middle, seeing nothing but carnage to his right and hearing the wailing of tears to his left. 

You met him once before your arranged marriage. You and your mother were at a banquet one evening, your first banquet after the war when he caught your eye. Standing at the side of the hall with a glass of red wine in his hands, everyone fell into a hushed whisper. It was rare to see the god of the dead at a gathering like this, especially since the collapse of a universe. 

As your mother mingled with one of her sisters, your curious eyes drifted into his orbit. It was as if the darkness of the Underworld followed him into the light, but you were entranced by the shadows that caressed the contours of his face. Centuries of carnage and war clouded his eyes a deep brown, but in the dim candlelight, you could see that in spite of witnessing the heaviness of humanity, there were traces of his youth in smile.

A pair of older women passed you, whispering quietly about him. 

The wine looks too much like blood in his hands, one of them remarked with disdain. 

But not to you.

It was difficult to not notice him with his imposing height and stature. Even as he stood to the side and in the shadows of the banquet hall, the wine in his hands reminded you of the deep crimson of a pomegranate, waiting for you to cut it open so you could taste its juices. 

Smoothing your hair, you quickly averted your gaze and distracted yourself by listening to your mother discuss the upcoming spring harvest. You smiled at your aunt as she pitched in, acknowledging how the winter rain would help water the crops and contribute to a bountiful spring for the mortal universe. 

But as the conversation continued, your skin prickled. It was as if something was burning you, a small flame lit on your skin and was rapidly growing into a thunderous wildfire that consumed everything in its wake.

You tried to ignore the sensation as you listened to your mother and your aunt's plan for the harvest, but the longer you ignored it, the hotter the fire burned your skin. It was as if you were thrown into a wildfire with the smoke filling your lungs, traveling to your throat, and threatening to spill from your mouth. Their voices began to fade into the distance as the roar of your heartbeat thundered in your ears. 

Unable to ignore the feeling any longer, you began to look around to find the cause of your discomfort. 

Your innocent eyes met his, and you could barely breathe. 

His brown eyes darkened into what you would believe to be the darkness of the Underworld. It was as if he was pulling you into its depths– not seducing you into temptation– but revealing all of your secrets into the light. 

All you could feel was the blood rushing to your face as he looked at you. You could not read the expression on his face as his eyes drank you in, but you could not tear yourself away. You were caught in his snare. 

But as your eyes met, you saw something else. As he was reading you, you were reading him, trying to translate the pages of a book that was presented to you in an ancient language you discovered for the first time. The introduction was breathtaking, but the first chapter was consuming and inviting. 

His eyes only left yours when you saw your father call and approach him. As he looked away, you too turned your eyes back to your mother and her sister. You could not hear what your father and Miguel were discussing behind you and your mother’s back, but you would soon learn that the god of the dead was blessed by your father for your hand in marriage. 

There was no warning. One day, you were laying under the sun in the springfields with flowers in your hair, singing a love song from days of old. The next day, you were escorted to the world below you, climbing your way through its webs to become queen of the dark kingdom to your betrothed. 

“I know you have assumptions about me.” Miguel’s voice is quiet as he speaks, barely above a whisper in the snowfall. “I cannot change them or how you feel, nor do I intend on changing your mind, but …” 

His words trail off, his voice fading into the distant sound of the winter winds howling in the cavern. 

Looking back up at the dome above you, you catch his reflection. A shadow crosses his stern face, its fingers stretching across his tan skin. In the dim moonlight, you could almost catch streaks of silver in his dark waves. The centuries have taken a toll on him, and while you were a couple hundred years younger than him, you, too, felt the heaviness in your chest. 

“I’ve heard stories,” you tell him quietly.

His eyes remain on the sky above with an unreadable expression. The only sound between you is the silent snowfall and the white clouds that puff around your lips with each breath you take. 

“Do you believe them?”

His question catches you by surprise. Your eyes widen, your breath stuttering in your throat as you think about how to answer him. 

Your husband turns to you then, a stormy look on his face as he looks at you. 

You remembered the stories and cautionary tales your mother told you about him. While you were tending the rose garden one day, your mother shared with you the stories she heard from the other gods after attending a banquet. 

He was the reason one of the universes collapsed. He meddled into the mortal realm when he should have stayed where he belonged- in the depths and shadows of the dead. 

He chased a young boy to the edges of the Underworld, all because the poor boy wanted to save his father from dying. Imagine how cruel a man could be to stop a boy from saving his father.

That man shows no mercy or remorse for the dearly departed. He only sits on his throne as he listens to their tears of sadness and cries of anguish. He would not even show mercy to a mortal man who ventured into the Underworld to bring his lover back to life– instead, granting an impossible task that doomed the poor man from the start.

Decades ago, you might have believed the whispers of the gods, goddesses, and other celestial beings as they spoke about him behind his back. For the first few decades of your marriage, you resented him for taking you away from your mother and the mortal realm. He stole you away from the sun with just a simple blessing from your father, and he had not even spoken a single word to you before making you his bride and queen. 

What he did not know was that once, you ran away. 

As Miguel was in the heart of the Underworld, you briefly escaped its darkness. It was winter in the land of the living, and somehow, you managed to sneak past the hounds, the souls, and the suspecting ferryman who stood at the crossroads between realms. 

(Whether he knew your plan of escape or not, he did not say. The ferryman merely watched with unknowing eyes as you slipped past him.)

Your lungs ached as you climbed your way out from underground. Soil crusted beneath your fingernails, your skin covered in earth when the light of the winter sun nearly burned your eyes upon your ascent. 

You did not know how long you wandered, but you walked until the soles of your feet burned crimson. The skies darkened into icy shades of gray and white before weeping for the loss of the sun and your fingertips mirrored the color of your feet. 

Day turned to night, and before long, you stumbled upon an evening wake. 

Outside the church, the deceased’s family mingled in the winter night. Their eyes burned with tears as their voices trembled with each word spoken. Loved ones gathered around them to offer their condolences while the children sat outside on the steps, playing with makeshift paper dolls and animals to pass the time. 

You wondered if anyone saw you, but the thought of someone recognizing you never crossed your mind. While your mother advised you to stay out of mortal affairs, there was something pulling you towards the coffin, urging you to stay. 

It did not take long for your heart to break. 

Tears pricked your eyes as you gazed at the little girl laying inside the wooden box. You remembered her youthful spirit and jovial smile as she would sit under your favorite tree, weaving flower crowns and sharing fruit with some of the wildlife that dwelled in the forest. The nymphs and dryads spoke fondly of her whenever she visited the lake, and a few times, you remembered picking up the blooming flowers that she left behind as an offering.

Overcome with grief, you placed your hand over hers, whispering words of assurance and comfort to her. Her skin was cold to touch, but you did not shy away as you left behind a small white lily in her embrace.

At the sound of approaching footsteps, you immediately stepped aside. You assumed the man who approached the coffin to be her father as you watched him place the coins over her eyes, whispering to his daughter in their native tongue with tears streaming down his cheeks. 

Your heart ached for the girl and her family as you watched them gather around her coffin. No one noticed you while you walked away, following the fallen petals of dried flowers to guide you back to the world below. 

It was as if nothing changed since your brief departure. The ferryman merely watched you with apathetic eyes when you returned, his boat filled with souls as he carried them over the Styx. 

You did not meet with Miguel that day, but as you wandered the Isles of the Blessed, you heard a familiar voice ring in the air. 

Not wanting to be seen or scolded for wandering off, you quickly hid behind a tree. Peeking from behind the trunk, your heart warmed to see that same little girl playing in the field with a man holding her hand. 

Miguel. 

You watched as he knelt down to her height, a gentle look on his face as he held her hands. You could not hear what they were saying, but from the smile on her face, you knew that he was nothing but kind and gentle with her as she adjusted to her new life in Elysium. 

“What is your name, little one?”

“Gabriella.”

“Gabriella,” your husband repeated as he brushed her hair out of her eyes. His fingers paused over the lily tucked behind her ear. “This is a beautiful flower you have in your hair.”

She smiled as she removed it from her ear and offered it to him. 

“I had it with me when the ferryman took me here. I don’t remember how I got it, but he told me to keep it.”

You held your breath as Miguel held the lily in his hand. It was not unusual for flowers to spring wherever you went, and you wondered if he knew that you snuck into the mortal realm under his watch. 

To your surprise, he smiled at her as he tucked the lily back in her hair. 

“He was right. You should keep it.”

You have not seen Gabriella since that day, but you never forgot her. Whenever you walked near the Isles of the Blessed, you could hear her laugh in the wind with the river twinkling in the shape of her smile. 

His question hangs frozen mid-air as the snow crystallizes around you. 

Did you believe the horrid tales, after what you have seen?

His eyes search yours as the two of you stand under the shadow of the earth, its roots tangling around you. 

Of all the myths and legends you heard about Miguel, it would be easy to sway you into believing he was an apathetic man who ruled the land of the dead. He stole you away from spring, but in the decades that followed since your marriage, you realized that not once did he ever try to hold you back. There were countless times you snuck away into the mortal realm, and every time he could have held you back or ordered the hounds to follow you. Yet, he never did.

Perhaps you have judged him too harshly before learning about the man beneath the mask. While a part of you still resented him for the marriage, you could not bring yourself to truly hate him. 

“I would have,” you answer him quietly, “once upon a December.” 

The corners of his eyes crinkle slightly, amusement briefly flickering across his eyes as the ghost of a smile tickles his lips. 

In the mirror above, snow continues to fall like kisses from the earth. Its kisses leave droplets on your skin, but as you turn to your husband, you could count the snowflakes like stars in the night sky as they melt into his dark hair and brown skin. 

It was one of those rare moments where there was nothing and no one else in the world but the two of you. While Miguel was known to mortals under a different name and had a duty to follow in his realm, he gave you freedom to roam his world as you pleased without fear. You were his queen, and he treated you as such in his own quiet way. 

While he kept you at arm’s length, you were no fool.

“Why did you bring me here?”

The cavern almost seemed to engulf him as the moonlight shined upon him. Whispers of snow glistened in his hair, and the perpetual scowl on his lips appeared to soften the longer he gazed at the sky. 

He pauses, calculating his words. 

“Long before the mortals named me, I stumbled upon this place by chance. It is safe to presume that the deepest depths of the Underworld to be a frightening place of terror and grief, but it is more than what the legends say.”

Miguel takes a step forward until he is directly underneath the center of the mirror. Behind him, the outlines of a tree stretched its branches around him with its root tangling your shadow with his. 

The wind continues to howl like a wounded wolf in the dead of night. While the mortals would call this place Tartarus, it was not what you imagined. 

A deep ache settles in your chest, its roots ensnaring the heart in your ribs as the winter breeze fills your lungs with sharp knives of ice. 

“Only once in a blue moon could I walk into the world above, but here … it is the only way I could see the mortal realm without leaving mine behind.”

His eyes seem to mist in the moonlight, and your heart softens. The fortress of the castle he built around him begins to crumble, and for the first time, you see the lone king that resides within the darkness of its walls. 

The longing of the sun, the yearning for something warm, for someone to hold. 

As you look up at the mirror, you remember a time when you wandered the meadow in your youth and stumbled upon a stream where the carrion birds often flocked to. The nymphs, dryads, and your overbearing mother advised you to never venture near the river, but your youthful curiosity overcame you against their best wishes. 

The birds followed your movements as you stepped towards the river. Dark clouds gathered in the sky above with thunder rumbling in the distance, but you remained steadfast. White peace lilies and roses bloomed underneath your feet as you fell to your knees to peer into the murky waters beneath. 

Darkness swirled around your reflection as you gazed at the water below. The longer you looked, the more confused you were as you tried to decipher what lurked underneath the surface. What could cause the dryads and nymphs to urge you to stay away from this place? What worried your mother that you found a secret beneath?

You never told them about the river, nor did you ever return since that day, but as you look up at the familiar mirror above you, you wonder if the forbidden river drifted into the Styx. Perhaps the carrion birds were the ones who guarded the river in the mortal realm.

Perhaps as you wondered and peered into the dark waters, another face watched you from below.

His voice pulls you out of your thoughts, urging you to look at him.

“I know a part of you must resent me for taking you away from your mother — and I do not blame you for it — but this…” He gestures to the mirror above, a soft expression relaxing the curves  of his face, “is the only way we could see into the mortal universe. If I could bring a piece of the mortal world to you, it is the least I can do.”

Snow continues to fall with the winter winds howling around the two of you, causing a small flurry of snow to surround your two bodies. Frost begins to crystallize at your feet, indicating the official arrival of winter in the world above.

Your husband illuminates in the moonlight, a serene glow casted across his frame as he keeps his gaze on the sky. The corners of his lips curve into a lazy smile, and you could not help but think back to all the legends and myths you were taught about him, and the river that your mother warned you to stay away from. 

If this was the face that watched you from below, how could you despise him for bringing a piece of your world back to you, especially when he was not welcome in the light? 

“It is the winter solstice in the mortal world,” you tell him softly. The sky darkens above you, but you do not feel the cold as much anymore, not with the snowdrops beginning to surface from the frost. “The shortest day and the longest night of the year.”

You wonder what flowers would bloom in the spheres of the universe, what sky and stars the mortals see as they bask in the moonlight. While your marriage to the god of the Underworld dictated the seasons above, you lived long enough to know that the worlds above adjusted to your absence or presence in their own ways. 

The first winter you spent in the Underworld, you were inconsolable. While Miguel tried to comfort you, you were distraught, crying tears of anguish into your pillow as the darkness surrounded you. For the first time, no flowers bloomed where you stepped or where you lay.  Instead, only roseless thorns and weeds gathered where you walked, and in the world above, it was the worst harvest the mortals have seen in decades. 

While your parents argued with your husband about the conditions and length of your stay, you blocked out their voices. The only sounds you heard were your cracks splintering through your heart as you mourned the warmth of the sun and the endless blue sky. As much as Miguel tried to coax you out of your chambers and into the dark gardens of his kingdom, you planted your roots into the ground, refusing to be anywhere near him. 

Only for the winter, your father proposed. Your mother wept by his side, but your husband nodded in agreement, sealing your fate as swiftly as the seasons changed. 

It took some time, but throughout the first few years of your marriage, you began to be civil with Miguel. Much like him, you kept him at arm’s length, watching him and trying to understand what kind of king he was to his subjects in the world below. While you heard the whispering lore and legends of him in your ears, you soon learned that he was not everything that the people believed him to be.

A cloud storms in his brown irises as he looks over at you, his brow slightly furrowed. “If I may ask, are you happy here?”

A bitter laugh threatens to spill from your lips, but you quickly bite your tongue.

It has been decades since you were taken to rule the world below. While you may not have lived long enough to control your godly emotions, you still felt an aching pain and loss as you grieved leaving your home. 

“I did not have a choice in becoming your bride,” you answer, your voice laden with sadness and despair. “What say do I have as your wife?”

You were a younger goddess who lived only a couple centuries, but you had yet to learn the complexities of the universe. You still needed to experience the worlds around you, both above and below, but your maidenhood was cut short by the man your father arranged to be your husband. 

Even with the decades behind you, time had yet to fully heal the part of your heart that grieved for your maidenhood. You were conflicted in your grief and loss when Miguel had been cordial and respectful, in his own sentimental way. A part of you may resent him, but you still did not completely understand the feelings you held towards him. 

His brown eyes soften at your words, his lips slightly parted as white cotton clouds flutter in the air from his breath. 

“You are not a prisoner here,” he assures you gently, approaching you as if you were a skittish deer in the woods. “I am truly sorry for the pain I brought upon you.”

You look up at him slowly, seeing nothing but remorse in his gaze. You wonder if he would ask for your forgiveness, but it was too late for that. It has been half a century since your marriage, and the world already recorded the event in the stars and the sky. 

Miguel was a man of many things, but you know in his eyes, he is lawful. With the living and the dead, he merely rules over the departed to balance the universes. He only follows the rules of nature, but in godly matters, he follows the customs and traditions. A marriage only needs a father’s blessing for his daughter to be wedded without the husband needing to court or ask the bride. He broke no laws, but he did not fully understand the depths of your grief.

His voice is gentle as the winds quiet around him.

“I know it will take time for you to fully accept me as your husband, but I am a patient man. All I ask and plead is for you to give me a chance.”

The winter winds pull the air out of your lungs as Miguel turns with his hand outstretched towards you.

As you grieved the sudden end of your maidenhood, you reflect on everything you have seen. The gods and goddesses may indulge in heresy and scandals whenever they pleased, but from what you learned from their whispers, some of their stories did not reflect what you have seen. 

The god of the dead was not cruel, nor was he kind. He often deals in absolutes and ultimatums, with the universes remaining in balance as he ruled over his domain. 

Even so, you remember Gabriella’s smile as he held her hand in Elysium. A child taken too soon, but found comfort in the man who guided her to the Isles of the Blessed. 

Perhaps he was kinder than you believed.

Snow gathers in his palm as he holds his hand towards you. It would be easier for you to turn away and loathe him for the rest of your days, but something stirs in your heart. 

Darkness may have taken its hold over the mortal realm, but it has not fully consumed yours. 

Your fate is already written in the stars, your marriage bound in a godly affair. While you are still a younger goddess in a single web of the universe, perhaps it would do you no harm to trim the thorns that protected you and allow a rose to bloom. 

Slowly, you take his hand, his skin oddly warm against yours.

Your husband smiles gently at you and raises your hand to his lips. 

“I promise to love and care for you,” he whispers, “as long as you are by my side.”

Snowdrops and hydrangeas begin to bloom from the frost that dusted the ground beneath you, tangling with the roots of the tree as you walk beside him, allowing him to guide you away from the moonlight and towards the river from where you came. 

A comfortable silence falls upon you as Miguel rows the boat along the Styx, the water calm and quiet on the journey away from the darkness. The winter winds begin to fade into a distant echo, and as much as you wish to turn back to gaze at the world above one more time, you keep your eyes forward.

The winter solstice may have begun in the mortal realm, but the spring solstice has begun to blossom in the world below. 

And in the depths of the Underworld, the tree that holds the mirror above sprouts a single crimson fruit, a small pomegranate in the start of spring.

[so-long-soldier-writes]

Teensy Little Crush

kai parker x shy!reader | requested by @luckyvampyr ; the other idea from when i asked for fluffy prompts!

summary: you have a crush on kai you haven't been able to shake for weeks. unfortunately, you're too shy to do anything about it, either. but luckily, elena steps in with a plan, and helps you win over the witch's heart.

tags: fluff, crushes, alcohol, gifts, anxiety, slightly awkward flirting, mystic falls gang (+ reader) friendship, bad planning, cooking, bad-ish childhood memories, teasing, first kisses

word count: 6.6k

a/n: this is the one i've had written for centuries & haven't been able to title. i got antsy and gave it a silly title so that i could post it 😅

You don’t know what it is, something about him just makes you giddy. Ever since the merge, he’s mellowed out immeasurably, and while he still annoys your friends, you’ve found something endearing about him. Kai, of course, is still Kai. He’s reckless, and troublesome, and doesn’t make a lot of considerations before doing things, but he’s getting better about it. He has somewhat of a grip on his emotions now, which is helping as he integrates himself into life in Mystic Falls. 

Initially, Damon assumed he’d go back to Portland after the merge, but something told you that wasn’t a possibility. Everyone knows how the Parkers grew up, either from Liv, Luke, Jo, or Kai himself. The story varies between siblings, but at least two truths in the matter remain the same: their family is tragically dysfunctional, and the coven always comes first. So why would Kai, hated by his family and his coven, return to his hometown?

Damon heaves a big sigh when you remind him of this. 

“So what do you suppose we do about him?” The man ponders out loud.

“Keep an eye on him; see how this goes. But let him figure things out here, I guess,” Elena says. 

“Ugh.”

“What other options do we have?”

You and Bonnie look over to him, and the couples’ gaze quickly follows. Kai drinks alone at the bar, scrolling his phone and bouncing his knee. He’s turned in such a way that you can see one of the dimples in his cheeks everytime he smiles. When he catches the bartender’s attention to show him something, Bonnie groans. You bite your cheek to not smile. 

“We can’t just kill him?”

“Not without killing Jo,” Elena reminds her friend. 

A collective groan now rings throughout the table, but your eyes are still on him. 

“Alright, I’m gonna go to the girls’ room. Drank too much at once.”

Elena’s words register with you as she stands. You then stand up, too, putting your napkin on the table. “I need to go too.”

She smiles, and the two of you leave Damon and Bonnie alone. 

You wash your hands side-by-side, and then Elena starts to fix her makeup in front of the mirror. You take the extra minute to touch up your own. 

“I can tell you have a crush on him,” she says suddenly. 

“What?” A jolt runs down your spine, and you poke your eye with your mascara brush. “Ow!”

She has the nerve to laugh. “You okay?”

“Not funny!”

“Case in point - that reaction.”

“I do not have a crush on him.”

“Y/N.”

“I don’t!”

“You’ve been watching him all night. I heard your heart rate calm when I said to let him stay here, and it sped up when Bonnie suggested to kill him. Not to mention, I can see the way you bite your cheeks to not smile at him. And don’t think I didn’t catch the glossy, lovesick look in your eyes yesterday when he winked at you from across the grill. Your heart sped up then, too.”

You can only blink at the slew of evidence stacked against you. The fact she noticed all these things and compiled a list of them takes you aback. 

“I see all, Y/N,” she jokes playfully. 

“Fine. I might have a minor crush on him.”

“It is not minor.”

“Might have a Corgi-sized crush on him.”

“I see more like a Great Dane sized crush, but okay.”

Your eyes widen. “Elena!”

She only laughs. “To be honest, I’m kind of offended that you don’t think I can read you. We’ve been friends for how many years…?” She starts counting on her fingers. 

“Okay, point made, you can read me! What are you gonna do about it?” Your tone is much more concerned than challenging. 

“What?”

“My, y’know,” you lower your voice, “crush. What are you gonna do? Tell Damon? Bonnie? Hell, Kai?”

“Of course not, that’s between us. But I think you should tell him.”

“Who?”

“Kai.”

“Oh absolutely not.”

“Why not? Because he’s a sociopath, or because you can’t approach him without blushing?”

“Elena!”

“Which is it?!”

“I don’t know! Both, I guess. Mostly the latter.”

“Well you’ve said it yourself a hundred times, he’s getting better with his emotions. Understanding them more. You could have a chance.”

“You don’t sound so certain.”

“I am! It happened with Damon.” Your eyes narrow, and she continues. “Damon was borderline sociopathic only a couple years ago, remember? When they first arrived in town, and I was with Stefan, and he wreaked absolute havoc everywhere he went. But I still developed a crush on him, and he fell for me, and I then fell completely for him, and look at us now. If you want him, the least you can do is talk to him.”

The reminder gives you hope. Maybe Kai could follow the same path Damon did. Maybe you could have something with him. Elena’s apparent support of it helps. Still…

“‘Lena, I can’t go up to him and start a conversation, or tell him that, I’m not as confident as you.”

“Then just start by talking about other things. Or start really simple and wink at him from across the bar like he does at you. Or, here’s an idea, get his attention in little, somewhat anonymous ways. Give him little gifts, or notes, or something like that. That, or Pavolv him with offering candy, and then whenever he sees you, he associates you with something sweet.”

“That sounds like manipulation, ‘Lena. I can’t do that. And I don’t know how he’d take it, either.”

“Don’t think of it that way, think of it that you want his attention, but don’t know how to get it straightforward, so you find it with other ways. Trust me, he won’t be offended. He’ll probably be elated that someone’s giving him little things. He’ll probably think it’s cute, too, that a shy girl such as yourself can’t look at him without blushing but is secretly, deeply craving something with him.”

“Oh my god, Elena.”

“Oh, stop being shy about it! If there’s anyone in this town who would enjoy the game in corrupting your shy, innocent ways, it’s Kai.”

“I’m not innocent, I’m just shy.”

“And you can show him that once you get his attention.”

“But what if he doesn’t like me anymore after finding that out?”

“How could he not like you? You’re sweet and kind, but I know you have that badass side to you, too. He’ll see it and love it the minute you show it.” She applies more red lipstick, then smacks her lips together. “And don’t forget, we’re talking about Kai, who has never been shown any kind of affection in his life. He’ll fold the minute you offer it.”

“Who’s to say he wants it from me?” You see her point, but still have doubts.

“Me,” she answers easily, “who has never seen him wink at anyone but you at the bar. Who has watched his eyes follow you throughout the grill, and watched them get heavy with disappointment when you leave. I’ve even seen him adjust himself in his seat more times than I can count.”

“What does that mean?”

“Remember that time you spilled your drink down your shirt and had to napkin-dry your chest by reaching down your shirt?”

“Mhm.”

“Yeah, well when I did a grill-sweep to make sure no one was watching, he was. And when we made eye contact, his heart rate accelerated faster than a rollercoaster and he had to move his legs around because something tells me those jeans were a little too restricting.”

“Elena!”

“I’m just telling what I saw! But I’m serious, you have a chance with him. Just give it a try.”

“Okay. But if it backfires, it’s on you.”

“I’ll take full responsibility.”

“Good.” 

You both finish up your makeup, then go back to your table. 

“That was a long bathroom break,” Damon says as soon as you arrive.

“We had a little girl talk. Sorry Bon.”

“No worries, we’ve been talking, too,” she replies.

“About?”

Damon answers his girlfriend. “The weasel and his wandering eyes. Watched you guys go to the bathroom, trained them on the door waiting for you to come out.”

“Where is he now?”

“Well we’ve officially entered the hour of the frat boy,” Damon nods to the clock, which reads nine p.m., “and he’s been buried in the sea of them.”

“I say we go before they start a racket,” Bonnie says. You agree. 

“Alright, time to head out. Bon, Y/N, see you tomorrow. Elena, you coming with me?”

“For a little, yeah. But I’ll be back to the dorm by eleven.”

“Okay.”

“Hey, I’m gonna get a shot to go,” you say to the group.

“Ooh, get me one!” Elena asks, putting on her coat. 

You head to the bar and order two bourbon shots.

The bartender rings them up with a smile. “Anything else?”

“Yeah, um… Can I pay for his?” You poke your pinky finger in the direction of Kai. 

“Him? With the phone?” Kai’s the only one with his phone, unlike the ten college boys crowded around him. 

“Yeah.”

“Sure. Anonymously?”

“Just don’t give him my name.”

“Okay. That’ll be $21.30 total. $5.33 for your shots; $15.97 for his. Is that okay?”

“Yes.”

“Alright. Friend of yours?”

“Kinda.” The sudden blush on your cheeks tells him all he needs to know.

He chuckles. “Got it. ‘Kay, you’re all set.”

“Thank you.”

“Have a good night.”

“You too.”

You and Elena take your shots before heading out into the cold. You part ways, divided into two at the door, and send her a wink that you’ve already started on her little plan. 

Around the same time you leave, Kai decides he’s had enough of the noise. He waves the bartender over to pay, but furrows his eyebrows at his words.

“You’re all set.”

“What?”

“Someone paid for your drinks.”

“Who?”

“Asked me not to say their name.”

“Point them out.”

“Sorry man, already left.”

Kai looks to the door anyway, hoping to at least catch a glimpse of someone outside it. He sighs, out of luck. 

“Did you recognize who it is?”

“Seen ‘em in here before.”

“You’re not gonna give me anything?”

“Scout’s honor not to tell.”

Kai glares, but then ultimately gets up to leave. He’s determined to find out who it was; what their intentions are by doing such a thing. If he doesn’t, it’ll itch at him all night. 

Three days later, Kai has yet to find out who paid for his drink, but when he enters the grill that night, the bartender offers him a cheesy smile.

“What?”

“First shot’s been paid, what would you like?”

“What? Who?”

“Scout’s honor not to-”

“Okay, okay, don’t say it again.”

“What will it be?”

“Gin,” he replies, then immediately begins to look around the restaurant. 

Nothing’s out of the ordinary in terms of customers. The usual group of geezers and their beers are in one giant booth. A couple early frat boys play pool in the corner. The unofficially-named Mystic Falls gang occupies the table to his left, and Tyler and Matt chat on the other side of the bar. Kai eyes every person individually for hidden answers within their eyes. Granted, most of the people in here would probably dodge his gaze, but he still tries. 

After a while of searching, he grows frustrated. The bartender chuckles, then receives another glare. 

“Still looking?”

“Would be easier if you’d tell me.”

“Maybe they don’t want to be found.”

“Why not?”

The man shrugs. 

Kai only seems to get more agitated at that. His jaw tenses, but instead of pushing, he just orders another shot. 

Meanwhile, you watch the interaction carefully from your table. When Bonnie leaves for the restroom, you poke Elena’s arm. 

“He looks mad.”

Elena spares a glance. “He’s probably just confused,” she whispers.

“What are we talking about?” Damon asks, also whispering. 

You wrinkle your nose, but give Elena a nod to let her tell him. 

“Y/N’s finally acting on her little crush.”

“Eugh,” the man reacts, “on Kai?”

“Mhm.”

“Not just gonna let it die out? Give it a week or two, I promise, it’ll die out.”

“Damon!”

“And why are you encouraging this?” He asks his girlfriend.

“Y/N could be good for him. She’s been curiously crushing on him for weeks, it hasn’t ‘died out’ at all, and maybe she could help him. Besides, it’s not that far off from you and I. Remember when you were the psychotic killer in town?”

Damon rolls his eyes. “But this is Kai. He’s a scrawny little, magic sucking, weasel-looking, chatterbox, and is quite possibly the most annoying person I’ve ever met.”

“That’s rude.”

“It’s true!” He exhales rather loudly. “Does Bonnie know?”

“I haven’t told her. Figured that wouldn’t go down well.”

“Smart. But you should.”

“I will, just not yet.”

“So what have you done? Why’s he look upset?”

Elena answers, “she’s anonymously paid for his drink twice now. We get the feeling Kai knows it’s someone in the bar, but neither of us know how much the bartender has let on.”

“That man is a secret-keeper extraordinaire. Kai knows nothing.”

You nod. “I need to steer off the alcohol path soon, but I don’t have any other ideas. Elena?”

Damon answers instead, “pork rinds. Or any food, really. But pork rinds especially. Went through a whole bag in a day in the prison world.”

Elena makes a face. “Maybe also, like… something he could wear. Or something that would remind him of you.”

“What about a ring? He wears a lot of those. I don’t know what could remind him of me.”

“Does he even know you exist?”

“Damon!”

Before you can react, Bonnie returns. “What’d I miss?”

“Y/N has a crush on Kai,” Damon says, smirking. “She’s trying to get his attention in miniscule ways through tiny little gifts.”

You plant your forehead into the table. A fraction of a second before you do, though, you see Bonnie’s eyes going wide. 

“Y/N!”

“Please don’t.”

“Are you insane?”

“Please talk quieter.”

“Are you insane?” She whispers.

“She might be,” Damon offers.

“Guys, it’s not the worst thing that could happen. And I do think she can help him.”

“Help him? Elena-”

“Kai would be a much easier ally than enemy. Dating Y/N, or at the very least, being friends, would help with that. Plus, she likes him. It’s just like when I liked Damon.”

“And I didn’t support that either,” Bonnie reminds.

“I know, but you’re best friends now.”

“Are you suggesting Kai and I will be besties after a couple weeks? No. We won’t.”

“That’s not what I’m saying at all. Just… Kai will be around regardless if we want him or not. Y/N has had a crush on him for the last two months. Might as well give it a chance.”

“And if it doesn’t work out? If he attacks her?”

“He won’t! Just give it a chance, Bonnie.”

She glares at you, and you look up just a little. 

“I’m not helping your little endeavor to get his attention, but I won’t actively work against it, either. Just… be safe.”

“Of course.”

“Damon, what are your thoughts?”

The man shrugs. “I just wanna see what happens.”

You glare at him, but then raise your head and smile at Elena. “Thanks, guys.”

“Get him a ring, Y/N. He mostly wears silver… which you probably already know.”

You giggle, then drop your attention down to your food to avoid her teasing. 

In the meantime of finding the perfect ring, you give him a bag of his favorite snack, per Damon’s suggestion. He mentioned he ate them a lot, and even said the boy was snacking in their first interaction. 

“He would chew them very loudly, it was so annoying,” he said, “so make sure you give it to him and high tail it out of there.”

“Oh I’m not sticking around at all, I’m ringing the doorbell and running.”

Your shyness earned a chuckle from the man. 

And you do exactly that. Kai has nothing close to a schedule, but you’ve observed him well enough to know he’s usually in his apartment at three in the afternoon. It’s the time in between his morning walk, afternoon lurk, and nighttime drink. When you drop off the bag in your hands - a brown paper bag of pork rinds, with a posy of red gerbera flowers - you have to be quick to find a close hiding spot.

For the record, the flowers were your idea. Deciding which type was a little difficult. You and Elena went back and forth between gerberas and chrysanthemums for ten minutes, liking the deep, red shades in both. After a bit, the florist approached and helped. Ultimately, you liked the symbolization of ‘desire’ behind the gerberas, and Elena was convinced the daisy would make him smile. 

After assembling the gift, you creep towards his door, knowing he’s often on edge and listening intently. You can hear his footsteps inside, along with sounds coming from a phone. For a moment, he laughs, but then his heavy boots retreat again. 

You almost run away, filling your own head with thoughts. This is such a bad idea. This is cheesy. This is pointless.

But then Elena texts, “you better not be talking yourself out of it.”

You take a deep breath, put it on his doorstep, ring the bell, and then hurry to the stairs. Luckily, you have a knack of getting out of situations quietly; it’s a perk of being introverted and shy. 

In the stairwell, you stop to try and hear his reaction. You don’t dare look up, but you do wait just a moment. Even from a distance, you can hear his excited reaction. He sounds like a little kid given Legos. It takes everything in you to not poke your head up and see. 

His boots start to sound down the length of the hall, possibly looking for the person who left it, and you take that as your cue to leave. As tempted as you are to see him in this moment, you’re not quite ready to expose your crush. 

Kai hears movement in the stairwell. He quickens his pace towards it, acknowledging whoever it is seems determined to keep their identity a secret. They should know he’s equally determined to learn who it is, though, and Kai always wins. 

As you hurry around the corner, he catches a glimpse of your hair flying behind you. He bites his lip, fighting a smile. He could recognize your hair any day. 

Instead of calling out, he keeps to himself. He’ll give you this victory today; he’ll let you think he’s still totally clueless, for both your sakes. You clearly aren’t ready to face him, and Kai kinda likes the game you’re playing. Besides, he needs more time to sort out his own feelings. He’s known he’s liked you for weeks, but knowing he might have a chance with you is a game changer. As confusing as it is to recognize he has a crush, he finds himself excited, too. 

For the rest of the day, he takes to the couch with the pork rinds, and lets his mind run wild, thinking about you. 

When you finally find the perfect ring, you really haven’t been looking at all. It catches your eye through a window of a jewelry store, while your best friends are debating on whether or not to go into the neighboring store. The four of you are having a much needed break from the chaos of your local town. It was Caroline’s idea to drive an hour away to somewhere new. 

A foot away, you can hear their musings. 

“I think I might just go in for a minute,” Elena says, “I feel like if I walk away, I’m gonna regret not at least looking at that shirt.”

“I’ll go in if you go in,” Bonnie nods to her, “mostly to get out of this loud entryway.”

“But after, we need to find fries. Like, seriously,” demands Caroline, for the third time. 

“We will! Shirt first.”

“Fine!”

“Caroline,” you wave for her attention, “you know a lot about jewelry.”

“Yes I do,” she agrees, leaving to join your side as the other two go into the store. 

“You know what I’m doing with Kai, right?”

She narrows her eyes and a suggestive smile forms on her lips. “Doing with him?”

“Not like that! I mean-”

“Calm down, I’m teasing. Yes, you’re trying to get his attention because you have a crush.”

“Right. Do you think he’d like this ring? ‘Cause like, I know he wears silver, but I don’t know if he’d care about the little sliver of green in there, but I happen to know a lot about crystals, and know that is malachite, but I also know he hates his name, so I don’t know if that would be well received, or if he’d be upset.”

Caroline lets you ramble. As soon as you’re done, she begins to giggle.

“What?!”

“You’re so overthinking this, it’s adorable!”

“Caroline!”

“I don’t think he’d be upset, I think he’d like it.”

“But do men even care about color in rings? What if he only wears silver ones and doesn’t want any color? Let alone a crystal with his name in it!”

“Omg, Y/N, calm down. You’re stressing yourself out over this. Do you want to go inside and ask to see it? Let’s do that.” She takes your hand and goes immediately to the counter. A moment later, you admire the ring in your hand. “It’s pretty,” Caroline comments.

“Yeah… What if he thinks I’m trying to propose or something?”

Before the girl can erupt in more laughter, the salesperson replies, “this isn’t an engagement ring, actually. Are you looking for those?”

“Oh no, not at all!”

“My friend here has a crush on a boy who wears similar looking rings-”

“Caroline!”

“-and she wants to get him one instead of just telling him she likes him.”

“Ah,” the woman smiles. 

“And she particularly likes the green on this one.”

“Well this is actually a crystal known as malachite.”

You nod, “his name is Malachai.”

“That’s fitting!”

“You should get it,” Caroline nudges your shoulder. 

“This is one of our less expensive rings, but that doesn’t mean the quality isn’t as good as others. The malachite is ethically sourced from Australia, and the ring itself is made here in the US,” she starts her spiel. 

“Okay, I’ll get it.”

“Perfect. Size?”

“Uhhh…”

“Average size for men is 10.”

“He’s six foot,” you provide.

“We’ll do a 10. It’ll be easy to size if he needs to.”

“Okay.”

She goes to the back to pack it up for you, and meanwhile, Caroline snickers.

“What?”

“You’re adorable.”

“Shut up.”

“Y’know, this is probably going to be the most expensive thing he owns.”

“It’s not even that much, Care.”

“Still… probably stole his other rings somewhere.”

You’d be upset at the accusation if it wasn’t most likely true. You whisper, “probably stole them off someone after killing them.”

She giggles. “And yet here you are, crushing on him.”

“Can’t help it. And you’re one to talk,” you refer to Klaus.

“This isn’t about me!”

“He wears rings, too. He might like that one over there.”

“Shush!”

The woman comes back and you both hush. “Here you go. That’ll be $43.50.”

You swipe your card. “Don’t tell Bonnie.”

Caroline snorts. 

“She already thinks I’m insane for crushing on him.”

“This is quite the gift for a crush,” the woman mentions.

“Oh crush is a light term. Y/N won’t admit it, but she’s totally in love with him.”

“Care!”

“He likes her, too. But he’s just as shy about it as she is.”

“Stop talking,” you say through gritted teeth, face hot with blush.

“Well I wish you the best of luck.”

“Thank you. Have a good day.” 

“You girls do too.”

Bonnie finds out immediately by way of pressing why you took so long in a jewelry store. Incidentally, she then becomes part of your plan in getting it to him. 

The four of you decide you’re going to “run into him” by accident, where you’ll then present it as something you just “came across” in passing. It’s a horrible plan, but it’s the only one you have. And, it’s not entirely untrue, which will minimize the amount of stuttering you’d have while giving it to him.

At seven, Damon texts Elena that Kai had just sat down at the bar. He then calls her and loudly invites the four of them to dinner. Minutes later, you join the smirking vampire at his table.

“Nice shit plan you guys have.”

“Shh!” Caroline scolds, “it kinda needs to be shit if these two are ever going to actually talk to each other.”

Damon gets the point immediately. You’re too anxious to register Caroline’s words. 

“Okay,” Elena turns to you, “I need a shot. Y/N, can you order a round?”

“Sure.”

“Don’t stutter!” Elena smacks her boyfriend. “Kidding,” he tells you. 

You roll your eyes. As you near the bar, you take a couple deep breaths. Your friends watching this whole thing is certainly not helping your anxiety, but it’s now or never to act on this plan. 

“Y/N,” the bartender nods as you slide up to the counter. You take the seat beside Kai, but don’t look at him yet. “What can I get you?”

“Five shots of bourbon, please.”

“Yes, ma’am.”

Kai bounces his knee nervously as he thinks of what to say to you. After a second, he blurts out, “hi.”

You face him. “Hi.”

“You here with someone or are all those shots for you?”

You laugh. “Nah, I’m here with all those,” you gesture to your friends.

Kai follows your hand. “Ah.”

“Hey, um…” three of your shots are poured. “I know you wear rings, and I saw this one the other day, and it looked like something you’d wear, maybe, I don’t know. But um,” you produce it from your pocket, “I got it for you anyway.”

The way his eyes light up warms your heart. He takes it gently and admires it.

“The green is malachite,” you say quickly, “I didn’t know if you’d like it, because I know you don’t like your name all that much, but still thought it was kinda cool.”

“It is cool,” he confirms, “I love it.” He slips it onto his right, middle finger, then smiles up at you. “And I like the malachite. Thank you, Y/N.”

“Your shots, Y/N,” the bartender hands you the five on a small plate.

“Thanks.” You turn back to Kai. “And, um, you’re welcome.” For a moment, you sit in silence, wishing you had the courage to confess, but you don’t. “I’m gonna go bring these to them.”

“Okay.”

You climb off the barstool, but of course stumble over one of the legs on your way down. Kai’s hands reach out to stabilize you. One grabs your shoulder; one’s under your arm, dangerously close to grazing your breast.

As soon as you’re stable, he pulls his hands away. “Sorry.”

“Thank you.”

“Don’t forget your shots.”

You smile, give him one more awkward “thanks”, then grab your shots and return to your table. 

“Smooth,” Elena says immediately.

“Shut up.”

It’s been three days since you gave him the ring. You haven’t gone to the grill, nor seen him otherwise, partly in an attempt to avoid him. The ring was the first time you actually went up and talked to him, instead of indirectly giving him gifts or slipping in a hello during group conversations. And then, of course, at the end of your interaction, you managed to embarrass yourself. Kai was nice about it, which says a lot because he has little patience with most people, but you’re still embarrassed nonetheless. 

So the next time you run into Kai, you’re not expecting it at all.

You’re in the kitchen of the boarding house with Elena, when one minute you look up, and he’s standing right across the counter from you. 

“Well hello,” he greets, dimpled-smile wide. 

Elena pops up from the floor, a cooking skillet in her hand that she just dug out from the lower cabinet. “Hello,” she greets questioningly.

“Hi,” you finally say. Short and sweet.

“What brings you here?” She nods to him.

“Bored. Wondering what’s going on in the big, giant mansion.”

“Just us cooking.”

“Ooh, fun. Y’know, I happen to be a pretty good cook.”

“Really? Prove it.”

You glance at Elena, silently cursing her for inviting him even closer to you. She smiles. 

“Really?”

She nods at him. 

“What were you making?”

“Grilled cheese and tomato soup.”

“Ah. I used to make that for my siblings’ lunch. There’s a spice you’ve got to add in the soup that you wouldn’t think about, but it makes all the difference.”

“Impress us. We’ll make the sandwiches.”

Kai starts on the stove, and all you can do is stare. His back is turned to you, but everytime he reaches, you get a glimpse of his hands. The veins on the back compliment his long fingers. Two rings adorn his left; one is on his right - yours. Your breath hitches in your throat at the sight. He turns around suddenly. “Where’s your spice rack?”

Elena points to the pantry. “On the door.”

“Thanks.”

“I remember you saying you could cook when you kidnapped me. The memory’s starting to return.”

“Awh, I did say that, didn’t I?” He smiles. “Sorry about that, by the way.”

“Yeah… who taught you how?”

“My father, surprisingly.” As he moves back to the stove, Elena nods at you to retrieve the bread, butter, and cheese. You do, as she turns on the fire. “Taught me how to measure with my eye. Taught me what spices do best with what dishes. He was more of the cook than my mother.”

“Really?”

“Yeah, she was busy wrangling six kids.”

“Were your siblings all close in age?” You ask, hoisting yourself on the counter. The more he talks, the more your confidence grows, even if just a little at a time.

He looks up at you before tending back to his soup. “When Liv and Luke were toddlers, the oldest aside from Jo and I was thirteen. Pretty close.”

You nod.

“Interesting to me that your dad did most of the cooking,” Elena says, “usually men make their wives do all the work, especially in the time you grew up.”

The boy smiles at her subtle prod at him being way older than he looks. The reminder makes you gulp and shift your legs. 

“Yeah, well, he loved her. He would’ve done anything for her. They both did the chores around the house. Jo and I, too, if I was allowed. I mostly cooked, though. They put up a baby gate so the toddlers couldn’t crawl into the kitchen when I was in there; they trusted me that little.”

“Was that for a reason?”

“I siphoned them more when I was younger, sure. By the time I was sixteen-ish, I had mostly learned my lesson not to do that anymore. As a kid, though, it was hard to resist. Sometimes I’d still steal from my oldest younger brother when he’d piss me off. He wouldn’t tell because he knew he deserved it.” When Elena gives him a quizzical look, he explains. “Early nineties, we had a computer, and Joey was obsessed with this wizard game that my mother hated. She thought it was too violent. So he’d wake up really early in the morning to go play it and would always wake me up. He’d let me siphon so I wouldn’t tell on him.” Kai winks. “Sometimes, too, we’d roughhouse when we weren’t allowed. He would always start it. He’d come into my room and throw something at me, or would slap me for no reason. Or, would just stand in the doorway and stare. If I caught the upperhand, we’d wrestle on the floor until he apologized. Then he’d let me siphon so I wouldn’t tell mom that he went in my room, because he wasn’t allowed to do that.”

You both nod, somewhat understanding. Sibling stuff. It’s familiar, siblings coming into your room just to piss you off, and then bribing them not to tattle. Kai just happened to use his lack of magic as his bribe; desperate to have something he was born without, despite all his siblings having unlimited access. You couldn’t blame him, really, especially with his brother teasing him as much as he seemed to have. 

Kai turns off the stove as his soup begins to bubble. He looks up at you again, then chuckles. “You look cute up there.”

Immediately, you blush hard. You tuck your knees up, resting them on the edge of the cabinet door below you. “Thank you.” It comes out in a whisper, and he replies with a wink. 

“Bowls?”

Elena points to the cabinet beside you. 

“Ah, great. Watch your head,” he mutters, opening the door. You duck a little as he reaches into it. His shirt rides up slightly, skin rubbing into the counter’s edge. 

“Do you need help?” You ask, holding your hands out to grab a bowl.

“Yeah, thanks.” He hands you one after another, then shuts the door. Elena turns off the stove, then nods at him for plates. “Which one?”

“The one she’s blocking.”

“Ah.” You start to get down, but Kai insists, “no, I can work around you.” Your breath hitches in your throat as you duck and shift to the left. Within seconds, his body is centimeters from touching yours. The softness of his gray shirt brushes against your exposed knee. “Hold,” he hands you a plate. You take it and set it down, then grab the other two from him. “Thanks.”

“Mhm.”

As you recover, he starts to organize the dishes. Elena goes to the fridge for drinks, but then clicks her tongue. “Gotta go to the basement fridge. Out of coke in this one.” She winks. She’s gone before you can say a word. 

Kai finishes his task, then comes back to your side. He puts a hand on your knee, his right one, and then offers a smile. 

“I like my ring. Thank you for it.”

You force a smile as you try to calm your racing heart. “You’re welcome.”

“And the pork rinds, I enjoyed those.”

“I didn’t do that.”

He chuckles. “The shots, too. Plus the pretty little daisy.”

“I didn’t do that, either.”

“Oh come on, princess. Admit it.” You tense up at the nickname and he can see it. “You can’t hide from me anymore.” He hooks a finger under your chin, but you refuse eye contact. 

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“Y/N…”

“I don’t even know where to buy pork rinds.”

“You’re so cute when you’re trying to lie to me.” You blush even more at that and he smiles. “Y’know, the shade of those daisies reminds me of the blush on your cheeks.” He licks his lips. “You can’t deny it, just admit it.”

“Kai, I can’t.”

“Can’t what? What’s wrong?”

“What do you even want me to admit?”

He laughs, as if the question is crazy. “Admit that you did it. Gave me cute little gifts and paid my ever-growing bar tabs.”

You can’t help but smile a little. “Fine. I did. Happy?”

Apparently not. “Why?”

“What do you mean, ‘why’?”

“Why’d you do it?”

“I thought you just wanted to know if I did it.”

“I did, and know I want to know why.”

“Kai-” you start, whining. He’s still holding your chin and it’s getting harder to not look at him. 

“I like the way my name sounds on your lips, cutie,” he whispers. “Why don’t you just admit it and I can put something else on your lips?”

You finally look at him, eyes wider than a mouse’s. 

“Awwh, there you are. Hi.” You stare, speechless. “Can I ask you something?” You only nod. “Is it safe to assume you have a little crush on me? Is that the reason for all this?”

You shake your head ‘no’.

“No? Really? Find that hard to believe.”

“Kai-”

“Princess, this’ll be so much easier when you just admit it.” He cocks his head. “What if I told you I have a little bit of a crush on you too, hm? Would that affect you at all?”

“You do?”

“Mhm.”

“Why?”

“Because you’re sweet, and shy, and just so cute. I mean, look at you. Perched on this countertop, and I could so easily grab you and hold you in my arms.” He smiles. “I’ve seen you moving around out of the corner of my eye. I know there’s a reason you’ve given me all these little gifts. Like this ring,” he shows it to you, “only you would care enough to do that. Not to mention the crystal inside it being part of my name.” You bite your lip in response and he grins. “See, I got you.”

“The food’s getting cold, we need to eat it.” You try to slide off the counter, but he catches your waist. 

“Ah, ah, ah, not yet, little girl. Admit it first.”

“I already did!”

“You know what I mean.”

“Fine!” You give in, “I might have a tiny, little crush on you. And I thought if I give you things, you’d notice me.”

He smiles, satisfied with his win. “There it is! You have a crush on me.” You don’t look at him. “For the record, I already noticed you. And I’ve been watching you since I arrived in this town. Your gifts only told me that you were interested, too.”

“Really?”

“Mhm.”

“So what now?”

“You could let me kiss you. I bet you taste sweeter than you look.” He runs a finger along your jawbone. 

“Okay.”

“Okay?”

You nod. 

Kai wastes no time pressing his body into your legs and cupping your face in his hands. “You’re so cute,” he mutters. Then, a second later, kisses you softly. Your lips part in pleasure before you start to kiss him back. He takes advantage of this, sucking your lower lip in between his teeth and making his next kiss more passionate. You let your hands rest on his chest, but don’t push him off. A couple seconds later, he breaks it off himself. 

“Even sweeter than I could imagine,” he says cheesily. 

“Really?”

He pinches your cheeks. “Perfect.”

“What’d I miss?” Elena appears in the doorway, three drinks in her hands. 

Kai smirks. “All the fun.”

The girl knows immediately. “Finally?”

“Finally,” Kai confirms.

“Wait- did you two-?” You point back and forth. “Did you-?”

“Promise, I didn’t say a word to him!” Elena swears.

Kai agrees, “not a word between us. You’re just bad at keeping secrets.” He bops you on the nose. 

“You suck.”

“And you’re adorable when you pretend to be mad at me.”

You pout in response, peeling yourself off the counter. Kai kisses your cheek as you pop off, making you blush. 

“Sandwich time?” Elena asks, “I have a story about that ring that you would just love.��

“Oh, I’m definitely going to need to hear this.”

“No! Elena, don’t!”

The three of you take your sandwiches and soup into the dining room, and she tells the story anyway. 

[testingthewatersss]

Spy General Wintersolider context warnings, nothing too extreme. Bucky Barnes x F Reader Chapter 1 3765 words Fluff, barely angst. 18+ MDNI  Steve hadn't meant to spy on you and Barnes. Not exactly, anyway.

“So are you going to do anything?”

Steve chews his lower lip, eyes flicking between the view of the room, and Natasha, who is clearly waiting for his response.

He paws at his jaw when she sighs, nodding towards the scene they’ve both been watching for a good ten minutes.

Bucky is perched on the edge of the couch, anxiously wringing his flesh hand in his metal one, gaze focused intently on the floor.

“Like what?” he asks at last, “He-”

“You’re his friend” she replies, “He’s clearly not doin’ well-”

“so how do I help him, Nat? I’m open to suggestions here”

There’s a strained desperation in his tone. It pairs well with the helpless look on his face.

The woman decides to pity him with a smile before she shrugs.

“I don’t know” she says honestly, “I don’t really know him- but, I can tell you a bit about normal behaviour, Cap’ and that—“

She nods over to where the man remains unnervingly still in the adjacent room,

“-That, isn’t it.”

Steve knows that, so he nods, gritting his teeth as he tries to decide what, if any, action to take.

Barnes struggling is something that everyone has expected. It’s been less than two months since they’d gotten him away from HYDRA, and he’d been there for the better part of a century, so really, him having problems adjusting to a life where he’s not being tortured 24/7 is more than understandable.

That doesn’t make witnessing with it any easier, though.

The former soldier has kept to himself, for the most part. He’s still a fraction too close to being a cornered stray for majority of the towers inhabitants to risk interacting with him too heavily, and with how strained things still are with Tony, even Steve has been staying away from him.

Although, saying that, it had been Tony who had quietly taken Steve aside at lunch, to tell him about the way that his oldest friend was acting strangely in the common room.

“I’m goin’ out for the night anyway” he’d said, disinterested, “but you might want to check in on the kid. He doesn’t look right.”

A quick “Thanks, Tony” had been all he’d offered in response.

“Maybe we should just give him some space” Natasha suggests, “He’s not actually doin’ anything-”

“Exactly, Nat” Steve says, “I don’t think he’s even blinked in the past five minutes.”

She turns back to the small, remotely activated two way mirror they’ve been watching through, leaving the man by her side to stew in his concern.

“Hey, Buck!” a cheery voice says suddenly, making both the viewers heads snap up, “You doin’ alright?”

“Is that Y/N?” Steve asks urgently, as the side door to the room swings shut.“Jesus christ-”

Natasha hushes him, watching the interaction curiously;

“Nat-“ he insists, “She’s great, y’know I think she’s great, but she’s— she’s a little, lively— she’s Tony’s sister, and we both know tact ain’t a Stark trait—“

“Shut up” she hisses, nodding back towards where the young brunette is now pacing round to where Barnes is still staring straight a head, “I’m tryin’ to listen”

He exhales, frustrated, but then, just before he can start talking again, Y/N does something that silences him instantly.

She crouches, a few feet away from Bucky’s legs, and reaches out, placing a tentative hand over both of his.

To Steve’s enormous surprise, all the man does in response, is blink at her.

“Hey” Y/N soothes, tone much softer than it had been before, “You feelin’ okay?”

There’s a beat of silence, where the former solider seems to register her presence for the first time.

He tilts his head, eyes staying trained on her face now, as his vibranium fingers curl into a fist, and his flesh ones, turn over, to hold onto the hand she’s offered him;

“My…my head hurts..” he admits, so quietly that Steve and Natasha both have to strain themselves to hear it, “I was lookin’ for you, I— I didn’t know where you’d be”

Steve’s jaw goes slack as Y/N brings her free palm up, to press it against the other mans brow.

“I was in the labs, sweetheart” she replies, “FRIDAY could’ve told ya’ that, if you’d have asked.”

She brings his knuckles up, pecking a kiss against the skin as she lowers her other hand from his head, to his lap.

“‘m sorry” he replies, “I-I didn’t- I… I guess I forgot..”

The nervous waiver in his tone is enough to make Steve swell protectively. He hasn’t seen the man this vulnerable since they were children, and he doesn’t know enough about Y/N to trust her intentions—

“It’s alright” she soothes, smiling, “just, try and remember next time, okay? if you want to find anybody, you can just ask, she’s real good at that”

He nods in response, although it looks like the action pains him.

Y/N notices that, too. She lowers their tangled fingers back to his legs, releasing him, before reaching up to stroke her thumb across his temple.

The action is so gentle, that Steve feels his eyes flicking over to Natasha, he’s only half surprised to see her still watching, totally unfazed by the affectionate display.

“Is it just your head botherin’ you?”

Bucky looks at her for a moment, before dropping his gaze.

“No” he tells her quietly, “I…I feel like shit, doll.”

She laughs at that, leaning forward to press a chaste kiss against the corner of his lips.

“Why don’t you get settled on there?” she suggests, standing, “I’ll make us some drinks, grab a blanket, you look like you could do with a few hours sleep”

Steve notes how Bucky is moving for the first time since he’s been watching. He’s tilting his head up, clearly tracking the way Y/N is moving, pacing around the furniture, towards the small kitchenette that’s nestled in the corner of the suite.

“D-don’t you have to meet your brother, or-”

“Tony’s got a date with some shareholders tonight” she replies, flicking on a machine that starts to fill the two waiting mugs with steaming liquid, “I was supposed to go, too- but he offered to take one for the team, as long as I promised to use my night off wisely.”

She’s ducked out of view, now. And Steve is blinking wildly, pulse racing as he tries to make sense of everything he’s watching unfold.

“I think curlin’ up with a handsome super-soldier definitely counts as wise.”

Bucky even manages a scoff at that. He tries to smile, too, as she reappears in front of him, holding a thick blanket she’s grabbed from a chest that’s disguised as a bench beneath the bay window.

“You don’t look very comfortable” she notes, passing him the cover, “Lie down, sweetheart”

He flushes scarlet, before reaching out for her hand, again.

The action is so hopeful, so innocent and gentle that she can’t help but sigh, ignoring the waiting drinks to refocus all of her attention on the man now clutching her fingers.

“I’ll be right back” she promises, “How longs it been since you’ve gotten any rest, huh?”

When Bucky looks back up, eyes wide behind his hair, Steve thinks he’s looks an awful lot like he did as a child, when they’d both gotten caught doing something wrong and he’d known that he was about to be scolded. It hurts his heart, especially when he thinks about how much time has past between then and now, and how much more scared he looks now, even though he’s a fully grown man.

“I’m not sure” he confesses, “I— I try, doll I- I swear-”

She nods, cutting him off.

“Have you eaten anythin’ today?” she asks next, voice soft and non-judgemental.

He shakes his head a fraction, not bothering to explain his lack of appetite. He knows she already knows.

“That’ll be why you feel so awful” she says, “You’re human, serum or not, you can’t just run off adrenaline indefinitely.”

He doesn’t argue. He stays quiet as she kisses his hand, again, before nodding towards the couch he’s sitting on.

“Lie down, sweetheart” she repeats, “I’ll get the drinks, and then I’ll be right back. I promise.”

It takes him a second, but eventually, he does what she’s asked him to.

As she lets his hand go, Steve finds himself squinting in disbelief.

Natasha looks intrigued, more than anything else, he thinks that’s fair, since spying on people is something he’s sure she’s had more practice at than him.

“Here” they hear Y/N say, “It’s hot, Buck— be careful.”

“It’s good” the other man counters, budging up so that she can slip in against his flank, “Thank you, doll— for- for all this, I— I don’t know what I’d do without ya”

“You don’t have to worry ‘bout that” she replies calmly, “I’m not goin’ anywhere”

There’s a strange weight in her words that takes both Natasha and Steve by surprise. For the first time since Y/N’s arrival in the room, the red-heads expression has shifted from interested to genuinely shocked.

Bucky, on the other hand, doesn’t seem taken aback by the love behind her tone, infact, all they see him do, is snuggle closer into her side, and then, press a kiss against her brow.

Y/N laughs at that, before reaching up with the hand not holding her mug, to guide his face down, so that she can press their lips together.

Steve is blushing then. It strikes him instantly how wrong it is to be watching the pair this way, when they clearly think they’re being given the luxury of privacy.

It feels horrible. Guilt is well and truly settled in his core, he nudges Natasha and mouths out ‘let’s go” so obviously that she roles her eyes at him.

She doesn’t fight though. With one last glance at where the couple are now cuddled up on the couch, between a thick blanket, kissing and laughing like teenagers, she follows him out into the hallway.

“Jesus christ” Steve says, the second they stop, “what was that?”

“I think” The woman chuckles, “That’s proof that even after being brainwashed for the last hundred years, your old pal, still has more game than you-”

“Very funny, Nat” Steve mutters, “I’m being serious-”

“-So am I-” she counters, “-I think it’s pretty obvious what that was”

“But they-”

“-are both consenting adults, Steve” she says, “and since Y/N will probably try and kill us if she finds out we’ve spent the past 10 minutes watching her through this mirror, I’d say we forget all about what we saw”

He gawks at her for a minute, before realising that she’s right. Y/N has a temper to rival her brothers, and, despite the fact that their intentions had been pure, the invasion of privacy isn’t something he’s likely be able to talk his way out of.

Eventually, he nods.

“Yeah…” he agrees, “Yeah, you’re right, Nat but.. this, this is Bucky, I mean- he, he nearly put himself through a wall when I pat him on the back the other day, and now he’s-”

“Curling up with Tony’s little sister like a lap dog” she says bluntly.

That sounds so ridiculous that Steve finds himself sighing. It only takes him half a heart-beat for Tony to enter his mind.

Suddenly, he’s panicked.

“Oh, oh god, Tony”

Natasha rolls her eyes.

“He tried to kill him— He’s still-”

“-in his defence, Barnes did assassinate his pare-”

“Nat” Steve bursts, not caring for the humour in her tone, “if he finds out-”

“Y/N will deal with it” the red head says calmly, “I for one, am not going to get in-between any family drama those two could cook up”

That sounds fair, it’s not settling his nerves, though.

Eventually the woman takes pity on him, placing a gentle hand on his shoulder

“Look” she exhales, “I’ve known Y/N a long time, she’s good, she’s really, good— okay? and from what you say, Barnes is a pretty okay guy, too?”

He nods, barely looking at her.

“So” she says, “I say, we leave them alone. If this becomes anythin’ that Tony finds out about, then we’ll deal with it, but until that happens, there’s no sense in interfering, not when they’re clearly trying to keep things quiet.”

She meets his eyes until he folds, gulping and nodding again.

“Yeah, yeah, you’re right.”

With another brief exchange, they part ways. Both agreeing to meet up later that night to go through some paper work for a job they’d be working on that weekend.

It’s dark when they both perch themselves at a desk in one of the studies, and it’s even darker when they sign the final document, having gone through every sentence, making sure it lines up with the tactical plans they’d drawn up that morning.

They’re about to split, and turn in for the night, when they hear a door opening down the hall.

Their eyes meet, and Steve knows she’s come to the same, split second conclusion as he has.

“Tony’s back” he says, hoping, praying, that he’s wrong about where the sound has come from.

Instead of a verbal reply, Natasha walks quickly in the direction of the mirror they’d been spying through earlier.

“Maybe they’ve moved?” he says following her, “or maybe that’s not-”

“Shit” she hisses, nodding to where the couple are still curled up together across the couch, “He’s-“

Steve’s about to cut her off in a panic, when they see the billionaire enter the room through the same door that Y/N had used the last time they were watching.

There’s a horrible silence as both of them survey the scene, weighing up what they should do.

It feels awfully like they’re about to see something terrible unfold. Steve is about to launch himself through the hidden entrance, when Tony does something that makes him have to hold onto the wall for support.

The man looks at where his sister, and Barnes are sleeping, before reaching down, to grab the blanket that has slipped to around their waists, and then, he pulls it up, silently tucking it in around both of their bodies.

Natasha is slack-jawed as they watch him leave, without as much as a word to anybody.

Minutes pass, and Steve is still just blinking dumbly.

“Well shit” Nat says, almost laughing, “Guess we don’t have to worry ‘bout Tony.”

The next day, Steve is partially convinced that everything he’d witnessed had been some kind of strange dream.

Infact, if it hadn’t been for Natasha sniggering at his vacant expression from behind her coffee, he’d have sworn it had been a delusion.

They’re both sat at the kitchen bar when Y/N comes in, wearing clean work-out clothes, hair tied back into a pony tail.

She beams at Nat, and then at Steve before making a bee-line for the espresso machine behind them.

“Mornin’ ” Romanoff greets, “Sleep well?”

Steve widens his eyes, as the younger woman nods, making a quiet noise in the base of her throat.

“Well enough” she replies, flicking some switches and arranging her mug, “You?”

Natasha nods pleasantly as Bucky wonders into the room.

He looks good, Steve notes. He looks much better than he has for the rest of the week.

“Coffee, Buck?” Y/N asks, already turning away from him, to grab an extra cup.

“Please, darlin’…” he says, coming to a slow stop by Steve’s side, “..Black -“

“-two sugars” she finishes with a scoff, “It’s the same every day, I think I’ve got it memorised.”

He doesn’t reply, but Steve tilts his head as he catches him grinning at the counter.

“Thank you” he mumbles, as she passes him his mug, before turning to finish making her own.

“You’re quiet today, Cap?” she notes, when she’s done, “you feelin’ alright?”

Steve feels his cheeks burning red as all eyes land on him.

Even Bucky is watching him curiously.

“Fine” he says, aiming for calm, “Just, thinkin’-”

“Don’t do that” Y/N mock scolds, “you might hurt yourself.”

The laughter he hears at his side makes his jaw drop open.

Bucky’s genuine chuckling is something that is so familiar that it takes him a minute to remember why it’s surprising to him at all.

Y/N just smiles, turning away again as Tony walks in.

He’s apparently ignorant to the way the atmosphere changes when he appears, he paws at his goatie before pressing a kiss against his sister’s head, and nudging her out of the way of the coffee.

“How was dinner?” she asks absentmindedly, “Get the answer you wanted?”

“The answer we wanted”

“The answer we wanted” she agrees.

“Sure I did” Tony chirps, merrily adding milk to his coffee, “What about you, did you have a successful night in?”

Steve feels his breath catching in his throat in the beat it takes Y/N to answer.

“Sure I did” she says, rummaging around by the stove.

“Did you get up to much?” Natasha asks, tone almost smug.

Steve thinks about kicking her under the bar, but he decides that’s probably more noticeable than the line of questioning she’s pursuing.

Plus, she’d definitely break his nose.

“No” Y/N admits, cracking eggs into a bowl, “I said it was successful, not productive.”

Bucky chuckles at that, though the sound is significantly more tempered than it had been before Tony’s entrance.

Natasha turns to stare at him for a moment, and Steve can’t help but clear his throat.

“To be honest” The younger Stark sighs, whisking her mix now, “I turned in pretty early, but I guess I was tireder than I’d thought”

“You’ve been burnin’ yourself out in the labs” Tony agrees, tone softer than before, “I keep tellin’ ya-”

“You can’t say shit about spendin’ too much time in the labs” she cuts in, “Do ya’ll want blueberries in these?”

Steve blinks confused as she gestures to the food she’s preparing.

“Pancakes?” Natasha asks, “Or muffins?”

“ Pancakes, Nat- it’s nine thirty in the morning.”

“Like that matters” Tony mutters dryly, before ducking away from the wooden spoon she goes to swat him with, “Okay-O- Okay!”

“Okay, what?” she laughs, easing up “am I adding the berries or not?”

“Yeah” Nat answers before Tony opens his mouth, “Blueberry sounds good”

Satisfied, Y/N turns her back on the others, and sets about preparing the food.

“You don’t have to do that, y’know” Steve says, “Cook for us, I mean”

“I know” she chirps pleasantly, still not facing him.

“She’s practicing her house wife skills, aren’t ya’, Stark?” Natasha teases, flicking him a glance that he takes to mean she knows exactly what she’s doing.

“I think that’d be called ‘home making’” Y/N replies, cool as ever, arranging a pan, “and, what, would make ya’ think I need practice?”

Her gaze is almost smug as she turns it onto the redhead. Who suddenly looks as though she’s been caught.

“You’re going to burn those, for a start” Tony interjects, nudging her out of the way to fuss over the stove, “why do I even bother, huh? I keep the refrigerator stocked with pre-made, over-processed junk specifically so we don’t need to coo-”

“I don’t think eatin’ the chemicals in that stuff all the time is a good-”

“I don’t think” he chuckles, “that we can say anythin’ about the damage chemicals can do to someone”

She flicks the two super soliders a courteous look, before laughing along with her brother, shaking her head and passing him a spatula.

“We” she says, “had nothin’ to do with that. I for one would’ve drawn the line at human experimentation.”

Tony shrugs.

“I’d have probably drawn the line at the flyin’ car”

She laughs again, and Steve can’t help but notice the way even Bucky is grinning at the siblings interaction.

“Either way” Y/N agrees, “I don’t want to consume something with that many E numbers in more than 8 times per week, thank you very much.”

“8?” Nat asks, “Why draw the line that far down?”

She shrugs, pulling out a bottle of syrup, and grabbing the plates, seemingly pleased with the way that her brother has taken over the responsibility of cooking.

“Because even though it’s bad for me, I can’t pretend I don’t enjoy it.”

Tony snorts, and she tilts her head at the way Steve is watching her.

He suddenly feels the need to get to know her better. He’d never payed her much attention, really, outside of the fact that she was a genius, with an arrogance to rival her brothers, her working for SHEILD as an agent had never filled him with a desire to interact with her much, even though she was nothing but outwardly pleasant towards him.

“He’s thinking” Y/N says, in response to Tony questioning the blonde man’s gawking, “He’s been doin’ a lot of it this mornin’”

“You wanna be careful with that” he says, “You might-”

“Hurt myself.” Steve cuts in, rolling his eyes, “I’ve heard.”

The duo laugh together again, before returning their joint attention to the breakfast they’re preparing.

It all seems strangely domestic, especially with the playful bickering and the way that Tony keeps nudging his sisters’ side.

Even Bucky seems relatively settled, even if he does shift uncomfortably in his seat when Y/N passes him a plate.

“I’m eatin’ in the lab” Tony announces, when he clicks onto the man’s reluctance.

Barnes’ cheeks are very red. He looks as though he might object, but before he gets the chance, the older Stark meets his eyes;

“You’re fine.” he says, in a tone that brokers no discussion.

Y/N pecks her brothers cheek, before either he can continue or Bucky could think of a way to respond.

The affectionate act seems to snap the awkwardness of the atmosphere. Tony, paws at his goatie, beaming at the woman, before telling her that he’ll be ready to go over their plans by noon.

She agrees, eagerly, before sitting herself at the bar, opposite the others, directly across from the former solider, who still looks more than a little uncertain.

“Eat” she murmurs, before grabbing her mug, “anyone doin’ anythin’ fun today?”

Her question draws a scoff from Natasha, who reminds her about the briefing she is also supposed to be attending.

“We went over the papers last night.” Steve tells her, “We, uh— didn’t make any tactical changes-”

“Did you get all this done before, or after you decided to spy on us?”

Bucky swallows. Looking at her, before averting his attention very deliberately back on his meal.

[ x ] [ 2 ] [ 3 ] [ 4 ] [ 5 ]

[michelleleewise]

In My Shoes

Pairing: Avenger Loki x female reader

Warnings: kidnapping, panic, mind control, minor mentions of blood (not too graphic), mild swearing, very minor mentions of torture.

Summary: Loki is ready to open up to you, but someone else has other plans......

A/n- aahhh!!! I'm back!!! Sorry this took FOREVER!! a very special thank you to @mochie85 for reading and helping me with all your wonderful ideas and letting me brainstorm with you!! 💚💚💚

Part three -- Part four-

Loki paced back and forth, the bass of the club vibrating the floor as his heels clicked against the tile. "Norns where is she?" He asked aloud looking down the hall where you had disappeared. He looked around seeing everyone else engrossed in their own fun making him sigh. He had hoped he would be able to talk to you, try to explain his behavior these last few months but if there was one thing he knew he wasn't a master at it was his emotions. Expressing himself had never been an easy task, especially with the Allfather raising you. So he did what he did best and buried that part of him deep inside of him, allowing anger and rage to rule him.

But meeting you changed him, made him feel things again he hadn't felt in decades and if he was honest it scared him. He laughed at the thought...the so called dark prince scared of a mortal woman...but there it was. And he knew deep down if he didn't let how he felt out...didn't break the chains around his heart he would lose you, and everything he wanted with you. So he had made the decision to tell you everything once and for all, to open himself up to someone for the first time in centuries because you deserved his honesty, you deserved everything he had to give and more. He was going to lay himself at your feet and let the pieces fall as they may because the one true thing he knew in his heart was that he loved you and he would gladly spend eternity proving it.

He ran a hand through his hair glancing back down the hall still not seeing you "Alright, this is ridiculous." He huffed storming towards the restrooms seeing a small crowd gathered he quickened his pace, hoping with everything in him that you were ok. He made it to the group, leaning up on his toes but even in heels he couldn't see "pardon me...whats going on?" He asked one of the men standing there "oh, there was a fight in the bathroom, well we think...there wasn't anyone in there just a broken mirror and blood." He shrugged. Loki felt his heart leap into his throat what had happened he asked himself quickly pushing through the group "get out of my way!" He yelled as they parted all eyes looking at him as he made it to the door "Hey, you can't go in there." One man said putting a hand on Loki's shoulder.

"Remove your hand at once." He growled keeping his eyes on the door "what are you gonna do sweetheart, beat me up?" The man taunted making Loki smile "something like that." Loki said quickly reaching up he grabbed the man's arm, dropping to his knee he flipped him over his shoulder before straddling his chest, his dagger at the man's throat. "Woah! Hey! Sorry lady!" The man yelled wide eyed "I suggest you and your friends return to the bar yes?" He said clenching his jaw "y..yes...we will." He stuttered as Loki stood slipping the dagger back into his garter belt seeing the man get up and run down the hall "thats it...run away little mouse." He snarked turning back to the door. "Y/n...are you in there!?" He called out knocking but getting no response.

He slowly pushed the door open, keeping his eyes down in case he wasn't alone "y/n?" He asked again as he rounded the wall, shards of broken glass littered the tile floor, specks of red along the broken mirror and floor contrasting against the white "y/n!" He yelled quicky going to each stall slamming them open "Darling! Where are you!?" He yelled again, his heart beating in his ears as he made it to the last stall finding it empty. He turned around freezing spotting the blood on the floor again leading towards the door. "Y/n!" He yelled running back into the hall looking around seeing a door positioned at the end he ran to it throwing it open he came out into a back alley, seeing taillights shining at the end before pulling out onto the street "y/n!" He yelled staring in the direction the lights went.

Panic set in as he realized whoever that was hadn't intended on taking y/n....but him. "Thor!" He yelled running back into the club, coming out of the hallway looking out at the dancefloor seeing Thor grinding against some red head he stormed over pulling her away "Hey! What..." She started when loki shot a glare at her "sorry..." she said quickly making a beeline for the bar "y/n what is the meaning of this?" He heard Thor's voice making his head snap up at him "something has happened to m...Loki!" He yelled over the music hearing Thor laugh "trust me y/n, he can handle himself." He said patting Loki's shoulder. "No you oaf! This is....come with me!" Loki said grabbing Thor's arm he drug him to the bathroom, his eyes widening at the scene.

"Dear y/n, that could have been anyone, maybe there was a fight?" Thor said looking around "no! Listen to me!" Loki yelled feeling tears welling in his eyes "he came in here and never returned! I know something..." he trailed off pressing the balls of his hands to his eyes "do not worry y/n, we will figure this out." Thor said rubbing a circle across Loki's shoulders. "First thing is first, we need Stark." Thor said grabbing Loki's hand pulling him from the bathroom back into the club, and Loki prayed to whoever was listening that they would find you.

You slowly opened your eyes, wincing at the throbbing pain behind your eyes as you lifted your head "well, he's finally awake." You heard a man to your left say. Squeezing your eyes shut you tried to lift your hands only to find they wouldn't budge. "What the..." you trailed off looking down seeing the metal cuffs still in place as well as thick leather straps around your wrists. "Ah ah, none of that." The man snarked walking closer "what do you want from me!?" You yelled looking up at him, recognizing him as the one that attacked you in the club. "Don't worry, the boss will explain everything." He said with a sinister smile.

You took a deep breath, trying to keep the panic rising inside you at bay when you heard a door behind you open and close. "Ah Mr Laufeyson. So glad you could join us." A man said making you freeze...you knew that voice. Looking to your right the man came into your view holding the scepter from the New York attack making your eyes widen. "H..how did y..you..." you stuttered "oh its pretty easy when you know the right people." The man said smiling as he set the scepter down on a long silver table. "Now, I'm sure you are wondering why you are here." He said grabbing a chair setting it down in front of you "I have reached the extent of what I can do with the scepter." He said sitting down "I know it has greater potential, I saw what you did in New york." He said smiling "so I thought, what better way to learn then from the wielder himself." Holding his arms out.

You sat stock still, looking between the man and the scepter, remembering the stories Loki had told you...the nightmares, the manipulation "I will not help you." You growled meeting the man's eyes again. "I told you he was gonna be a hard nut to crack Stucker." The other man said laughing. Clenching your jaw you watched the man stand up with a sigh. "Well, we have our ways after all." Stucker said walking back to the table. "Now as I mentioned, I don't know the extent of the power in this." He said picking up the scepter. You felt your heart pound against your chest as he began to walk back over to you, the bright blue glow at the tip illuminating his face "but I did figure out one little trick." He said with an evil grin as he grabbed the chair moving it aside. You twisted your wrists, pulling as hard as you could trying to free your arms "wait...please don't...i..." you trailed off feeling two hands on your shoulders.

"I'm not sure if this hurts or not." Stucker said hovering over you looking into the blue glow "but you're a God after all." He said meeting your eyes again feeling the tip of the scepter press into your chest above your heart. Panic consumed you as you fought to free yourself, the metal cuffs cutting off access to Loki's siedr you realized you were helpless, tears pooling in you're eyes as the light brightened "don't worry, it will all be over in a minute." He said smiling again "no! Stop....ple..." you were cut off feeling a surge of electricity shoot onto you, gasping as it traveled through your body. Looking into the man's face you gritted your teeth "that's it, let go." He said as the edges of your vision darkened "he's ours now." Stucker said standing up straight, you tried to move your arms but your body wouldn't respond as the power slowly passed through you. "Prepare him." You heard as your head slumped forward as the darkness consumed you.

Loki made his way to kitchen, hoping a cup of tea would calm his nerves even though he doubted it. It had been three days since the club, three days since you were taken and it was eating him alive. How could "Loki" be out there and no one see him he thought setting the kettle on the stove grabbing a cup. "Couldn't sleep either?" He heard making him freeze, looking to the doorway seeing Thor walk in running a hand through his hair. "No, I could not." Loki said setting the cup down as Thor sat on the bar stool across from him. "Did you want any?" Loki asked pointing at the kettle "no, thank you. That's always been more Loki's..." he trailed off looking down "we will find him thor." Loki said watching his brother intently. "I never got to tell him." Thor whispered making Loki furrow his eyebrows. "Tell him what?" Loki asked as the kettle screamed.

"That I'm proud of him." Thor said fidgeting with his fingers making Loki freeze. "Life hadn't been kind to him, sometimes even cruel." Thor continued sighing "but he persevered, he never gave up." Thor said finally looking up, loki seeing tears in his eyes "I admire him, if I'm honest I don't think I could have made it through what he's been through." Thor said with a sad laugh. "Thor..." loki started feeling a lump rise in his throat when Tony ran into the room "oh good, your here." He said trying to catch his breath "what is it stark?" Thor asked watching him "radiation, we found similar gamma radiation that your weird blue box gives off." He said looking between Thor and Loki "what does that mean?" Thor asked "the scepter..." loki whispered as they both looked at him. "The scepter gives off similar radiation." He said looking up at them.

They stood there for a minute thinking "does that mean..." Thor cut himself off looking at stark "He has the scepter." Tony finished "but how? Your people were supposed to secure it." Thor said, anger rising in his tone "I have no idea, it was sent to..." Tony started when realization came over him "we have to go...now!" Tony yelled "meet at the jet in ten." He said running from the room "I'll meet you there y/n." Thor said quickly following behind Tony. Loki stood frozen at the counter. He never thought he would see the scepter again, let alone be in the same room with it. A shiver ran down his spine remembering his time with it...with the mad titan...new York.

"Y/n..." he whispered looking up into the empty room he gripped the counter running to y/n's room as quickly as he could, going to the closet he pulled out her battle suit, slipping it on he heard her phone go off, seeing it was stark he picked it up "I'm on my way." He said quickly before handing up. Tossing it on the bed he grabbed the daggers he had given you, his thumb running over your initials etched on the blade as he slid them into their holsters strapped to his thighs running from your room, making his way to the roof, his thoughts running rampant how did they get it...were they using it on you...were you using it.

He made it to the roof, throwing the door open he saw Thor and stark waiting by the jet "finally! Let's go." Tony said walking up the ramp as he came up next to Thor "Do not worry y/n, we'll get him back." Thor said patting his shoulder. "I hope your right." He said looking up seeing Thor smile. "Let's go kids!" Tony yelled, walking up the ramp loki saw Bruce in the cockpit "in case we need the big guy." Tony said patting Bruce's shoulder making loki shiver. "Well let's hope not." Loki said taking a seat next to Thor as the ramp closed, hoping for the best but preparing himself for what may need to be done.

A couple of hours later the jet landed In a remote area of Romania, loki unbuckled himself as the ramp slowly lowered "Alright Bruce you stay here just in case, you guys let's go." Tony said walking down the ramp Thor and Loki following close behind. They looked around seeing nothing but a small dilapitated barn in the middle of a large field "where are we? Are you sure this is the correct place?" Loki asked looking at Tony "yep, my computers don't lie, and they're saying our guy is in there." Tony said pointing to the barn as he began walking towards it. "I have a bad feeling about this." Thor said glancing around "everything's fine point break, stop worrying." Tony said as they all made it to the only door on the building. "Ok, in and out." Tony said grabbing the handle "and keep hidden, we don't know what all is going on here." He said. Opening the door they walked in seeing nothing but a huge empty building, dust and cobwebs covering every surface.

"I knew you brought us to the wrong place stark!" Loki yelled making Thor jump "stop calling me that, it's weird and no I didn't!" Tony yelled back pulling a device from his pocket he walked around "no, it's definitely here, look around." Tony said as they split up searching. "And what exactly are we looking for?" Thor asked "anything that may be a door, if any of the dust has been disturbed...ah!" Tony yelled making them jump "over here guys!" He yelled making Thor and Loki run over. Looking down seeing a small symbol etched into the wood floor. "What is that?" Thor asked leaning closer "hydra..." Tony said wiping the dust away from around it, seeing a small hinge he lifted it up revealing a small control panel. "All we have to do is input the code and we're in." Tony said looking up at Thor "yes and how do we know what the code is?" Loki asked "elementary my dear Watson." Tony said pulling another device from his pocket.

He pointed it at the keypad, a blue light emitting from it revealing fingerprints "now, we just need to get them in the right order." Tony said beginning to input different combinations "will they know of the failed attempts?" Thor asked watching Tony "we'll see I guess." Tony said as the keypad flashed red again. "Would you hurry up! We don't..." loki was cut off as the pad flashed green, a small section of wood sliding open revealing a staircase "bingo...let's go." Tony said quickly descending into the hole in the floor "ladies first "Thor said waving loki forward "oh...right, thank you." Loki said quickly following Tony, Thor close behind him. They made it to the bottom, being met by a long dark hallway "well if this isn't the stuff of nightmares." Tony said slowly walking forward "just keep your eyes open." Loki said pulling his daggers from their holsters. They made it to the end of the hall where it split in two directions. "Should we split up?" Thor asked looking both ways "no, we stay together." Loki said when they heard a loud bang down the hall on the right "down there! Come on!" Loki said running towards the noise.

Coming up on a set of metal double doors he looked back making sure Tony and thor were behind him as he opened it stepping inside "very good, see your getting it, I knew it would all come back to you." Loki heard a man's voice echo through the room before a flash of blue light shot across the room hitting an oil drum making them all duck. "Dude, your brothers gone all psycho again." Tony said when Thor and Loki glared at him "Stark, I have said it before and I will say it again, you will not speak ill of my brother or my hammer may accidentally land on you." Thor growled making Loki look at him "ok ok sorry, but what are we going to do?" Tony asked as another flash of blue lit the room. "Hit him in the head...hard." loki said making the others look at him "if he is under the control of the mind stone again, the only way to free him is a hard blow to the head." Loki explained seeing Thor nod "yes, I suspected that last time." He whispered

"that's enough for today, take him back to his cell." The man's voice sounded again as they ducked behind a large crate. Loki peeked out seeing a small group of men surrounded what looked like you but he couldn't get a good look. "Ok, we wait a few minutes, and then we follow." Loki whispered crouched back down. "So, what are we going to do with him when we're done?" They heard another voice ask "I haven't decided, but I suppose we could make use of him as our new soldier." The other man said. "Stucker....that's stucker!." Tony whisper yelled making Thor and Loki look at him "he's a high level hydra agent, had ties with shield so I heard, that's why I don't trust them." Tony said as Loki peaked over the crate seeing they were alone "Alright, it's clear." He said as they slowly made their way across the room to another set of doors.

Looking back Loki opening the door letting Thor and Tony go first when Tony suddenly stopped making loki run into him "what..." loki started seeing them both staring ahead. Loki stepped to the side seeing himself, or rather you standing in the middle of the hall, looking like death walked over you. "Brother..." thor said making loki look at him seeing you tilt your head "I am not your brother." You growled looking at Loki. "Well, I think it's safe to say loki isn't home right now." Tony said when your eyes snapped to his. "Do you ever stop talking?" You growled making Loki tense "Alright, enough of this we're going home." Loki said taking a step towards you when your eyes snapped at him, the blue glow in them unsettling him

"I have nothing to go back to." You said taking a step towards him "you have me!" Loki yelled seeing you laugh "I never had you...I only thought I did." You said looking to the others "I never had anyone." You said balling your hands into fists "yes you do, that's why we are here! We care about you!" Loki said sternly when a man walked into the hall "ah guests, Loki why don't you give them a proper welcome yes?" Stucker said crossing his arms. Loki looked at you as you knelt down on one knee bowing your head "yes Master." You said lifting your hands "no...you couldn't..." loki was cut off seeing your hands begin to glow bright green "shit! Run!" Loki yelled grabbing Tony's arm he drug him behind him "what's happening?" Tony yelled as a green blast barely missed his head hitting the wall next to them, sending chunks of concrete and dust into the air "He is not himself." Thor said catching up. "What do we do? We can't get close to him." Thor asked as another blast bairly missed his side "yeah last time I did that I went through a window." Tony said as they rounded the corner at the end of the hall.

Loki leaned againt the wall trying to catch his breath hearing slow footsteps down the hall "come out...come out wherever you are." He heard you when a blast hit the wall next to him throwing more dust in the air. "Mjolnir! Thor throw it at him." Loki said seeing Thor shake his head "no, it may do too much damage." Thor said gripping the handle "throw it past him and recall it, it will only graze his head...he'll be fine." Loki said as another chunk of wall was blasted next to him "ya know...you were right...this isn't that hard." You said laughing loudly, the sound echoing down the hall "now Thor!" Loki yelled as Thor stood up "I will try." He said stepping out into the hallway facing you. "Ah, thor...atleast you can face me." You growled. Loki looked over seeing Thor fidgeting with the hammer "I am sorry brother." He said throwing the hammer towards you. Loki looked out watching your hands light up, throwing a large blast sending the hammer into the wall next to you before shooting a blast at Thor shooting him back into the wall behind him. "Nice try, but you'll have to do better then that." You said laughing.

"Ok, you put the suit on and distract him and I will take him by surprise." Loki said gripping his daggers "I swear if I go out a window.." Tony said standing up "I'll throw you out of one if you don't stop talking." Loki snapped watching Tony hit a button on his chest, his suit materializing "he's fast...I hope your faster." He said stepping out where Thor was. "Ah Tony! Let's see what you've got." You growled as Tony lifted his arm "did you miss me?" He asked sending a repulsar blast at you, loki peeking out seeing you deflect it. "I wouldn't go that far." You said as Tony's thrusters kicked on and he flew towards you. Looking over he saw Thor lying unconscious and sighed "you oaf." He muttered quickly standing up he stepped into the hall watching the battle between you and stark "hold still you ass!" You yelled throwing another blast as he dodged "age tends to slow you down a bit, and your getting up there." Tony snarked as your attack became more erratic, green and blue flashed shooting throught the small hallway making loki worry about the stability of the structure.

He watched as Tony ducked and weaved, getting you to turn your back to him "perfect" loki said, taking his advantage he ran towards you, gripping the handle of the dagger he brought the hilt up as he came up behind you ready to bring it down when you suddenly turned, your hand gripping his neck before slamming him into the wall. "That body's not so fast is it?" You snarked tightening your grip on his neck "y/n...please..." loki gasped trying to pry your hand away but he knew it was pointless, he knew the strength you wielded now "I think I could get used to this." You said lifting him up the wall, his toes barely touching the floor as he felt the wind leave his lungs "let her go!" Tony yelled trying to send a blast at you but you beat him to it, lifting your free hand you shot him down the hall lodging him into a wall. "Y/n. L..listen.." loki tried as your attention turned back to him "listen to what? More of your lies...your excuses?" You growled, your fingers digging into his neck.

"No, no more excuses...no more lies." Loki said trying to stand on his toes to relieve the pressure "i...I love you y/n...only you." He said seeing your expression harden "God of lies." You snarled lifting him further his feet leaving the ground. "I'm telling the t..truth." loki gasped gripping your wrist "i...I wanted to tell you...everything..." he wheezed kicking his legs "so many...times..." he tried, feeling a warmth begin to move through him "just like every other girl right? I was nothing to you." You said, loki seeing a tear steam down your cheek "y...you are....everything...to me." He said closing his eyes he let your powers flow through him, feeling them in his hands he opened his eyes seeing them glowing bright purple "what are you doing?" You asked as Loki dug his nails into your wrist "saving you." He said feeling his feet touch the floor again "just as you saved me." He said as you loosened your grip on his throat he took a deep breath channeling everything he had into you.

"L...loki...." you said shakely, looking up he saw your eyes had returned to their normal color, you hand slowly releasing him "i...I'm sorry..." you stuttered as your eyes began to glow blue again. Loki quickly jumped up wrapping his arms around you "I'll always love you." He whispered in your ear, closing his he felt your powers surge through him, gripping the leather of your suit he sent it out engulfing you both in a bright purple glow before tearing you apart, the blast throwing you to opposite sides of the hall slamming you into the wall. Loki slowly opened his eyes, rolling to his back he saw the indent in the wall his body made. Lifting his hands he hoped he would find his own, sighing when he saw his own long fingers. Patting his chest he felt leather "thank the norns." He breathed closing his eyes. "Brother?" He heard Thor down the hall, tilting his head seeing him pry mjolnir from the wall "yes, I'm fine now thanks to...y/n!" He suddenly shot up, wincing at the pain in his head seeing you lying lifeless across the hallway. "Y/n!" He yelled getting on his hands and knees crawling to you.

He placed his fingers on your neck feeling your pulse "she's ok....she's alive." Loki breathed reaching down he laced his arm under your legs picking you up "but we must get her back to the tower, I am certain she will have a concussion." Loki said looking down the hall "Stark! We must go!" Loki yelled seeing Tony stumble from his hole in the wall "is it over...did we win?" He asked rubbing his head "yes, now let's go." Loki said quickly turning they made their way back to the stairs, stopping seeing Stucker standing at the bottom "where do you think your going?" He asked as they were suddenly surrounded by hydra agents "we are leaving." Loki snarled gripping you tighter to him. "Do you think I'd give up my best soldier?" He laughed when he was suddenly knocked off his feet, a silver flash shining through the dim hall "get her to the jet, I will be right behind you." Thor said spinning mjolnir "thank you brother." Loki said quickly running up the stairs.

Making his way to the jet he was met by Bruce as he ran up the ramp "what happened?" He asked as Loki laid you on a gurney "I belive she has a concussion, she hit her head hard." He said stepping back looking back seeing Thor and tony running across the field. "I think your right, let's get her strapped in." Bruce said securing you to the gurney as the others ran in "we gotta go." Tony said jumping into the cockpit raising the ramp. "Come sit, she will be fine." Thor said patting Loki's shoulder. Loki took a seat next to Thor, watching Bruce hook you up to various machines as Tony took off. Loki closed his eyes, leaning his head back against the wall hoping you would he ok, and that things would finally return to normal.....

@lokistoriesblog @hyperlokilover @iamlokisgloriouspurpose @simplyholl @lokidokieokie @mjsthrillernp @violethaze @dryyoursaltyoceantears @loz-3 @commanding-officer @stupidthoughtsinwriting @high-functioning-lokipath @jaidenhawke @lokiandbuckysdoll @littlespaceyelf @lastlovesong17 @ladyofthestayingpower @homesickloki @glitterylokislut @avoliax @yelkmelk @mayjaysthots @buttercupcookies-blog @differenttyphoonwerewolf @her-glorious-purpose @nate-ate-hate @chantsdemarins @ladymischief11 @usagishira @princess-asgard @honeyg19 @goblingirlsarah @cabingrlandrandomcrap @silverfire475 @smolvenger @loki-laufeyson-1054 @marygoddessofmischief @animnerd @texmexdarling @fictive-sl0th @jin0x0 @vbecker10 @eleniblue @lady-rose-moon @pics-and-fanfics @kittiowolf210 @kats72 @asgardianprincess1050 @crimson25

[blackbat05]

Peace Offering

Jason Todd x Reader (University AU)

Plot: You and Jason have gotten on each other nerves ever since you knew each other. This time, Jason may have gone a little too far. Does he have a solution?

Genre: PG-13

A/N: The headcanon of Jason studying Literature will go with me to my grave lmao. Not really enemies to lovers but you can see it as the beginning stage if you want! My fics always welcome different interpretations. Wrote this in one shot because I'm so done with my thesis and needed an outlet. Hence I'm sorry for the short fic and lack of brain cells. Hope you still enjoy though.

"Bird brain!"

"Uh oh, the baroness arrives." Jason dramatically mocks as you marched over.

"What the hell is wrong with you!"

"What's got in your pants?"

"Answer the question." You weren't having it this time. Your paper was due in less than twelve hours and your laptop has mysteriously gone missing when you woke up this morning to attempt to finish the last bit.

"Oh. That..." He gives you a lopsided grin that you want to slap off. If only he didn't look like a model that jumped out of Calvin Klein's front page. "I may have used it to complete my English Literature thesis. Researching the emergence of female writers in the 19th century and their impact on modern literature can take a lot out of you." He states that as if it's a well-known fact.

"My laptop." You had no time for the tiki-taka today.

"Yeah... I may have bought your laptop on a stakeout and it got broken in half by the Riddler..." Jason trails off, actually looking sheepish.

"What. Did. You. Say?" You grit your teeth, unable to process what he had just told you.

"Went on a stakeout."

You exploded. "You're a real piece of work you know that Todd? I'm so close to submitting my final paper and now I may not be able to graduate because of you!"

Before Jason can utter another word, you slammed the door on the way out, leaving him in the dust.

***

The professor signals the end of class, reminding everyone to submit their papers before the lecture hall empties out. You slowly pack your belongings, hesitant to make your way to the formidable woman.

But what must come, will come. You take a deep breath, rehearsing what you had practiced in front of the mirror. You'll beg if you had to.

"Uh, professor?"

What you didn't expect was the woman to smile at you through her silver-rimmed glasses. "Y/N. I'm impressed. You've outdone yourself this time."

"Excuse me?"

"I saw you submitted your paper already. I took a brief look at it, and your conclusion is stunning. I have high hopes for the rest of your paper." She slings her bag over her shoulder. "Happy graduation."

Stunned, all you could do was give a numb nod. You're left alone in the lecture hall, but not for long. The door opens to reveal Menace Number One - Jason Todd.

Jason Todd who's holding your laptop that looks as good as new. He quietly makes his way to you, extending what was meant to be a peace offering. You wait for him to explain.

"I know I've been a dick to you and this probably tops it all. I'm really sorry. None of... everything that I said to you was real. Sorry." Jason repeats his apology for good measure. When he notices you're still keeping silent, he continues.

"You were right, I was an idiot for doing that. I wanted to tell you that Babs was trying to fix it but it was going to take longer than I expected. I didn't expect she was going to have it already. Then again, it's her after all." He chuckles.

Silence. Were you mad that he got someone else to solve his mess?

"I wrote your conclusion. Hope you don't mind. I thought it was the least I could do for being such a jerk to you."

Jason towered over you but yet he couldn't seem to make eye contact. It was only by hearing you huff did he dare to look at you.

"I'm glad you know how much of an arsehole you were to me all this time."

Jason is on the edge waiting for you to continue.

"But thank you for doing all this for me. I'm really sorry too. For everything I've said to you. I don't think you're annoying. You're pretty smart." You give a small smile, causing Jason to break into a bigger one.

"What was that?"

For a spilt second, your smile slides off your face. "Don't push it, Todd." You take the laptop from his hands, making a mental note to thank Barbara the next time you see her. Making your way out of the lecture hall, Jason has become his usual self again. And this time, you didn't feel like your blood pressure was going to skyrocket.

"Aw come on! Say that one more time please?"

"You were a huge jerk?"

"You know that's not what I meant."

"Mm hm, a big baby then?"

"Come on!"

[bettathanyou]

The Aftermath Of Being A Hero

Y/N x Cedric, Based on the fanfic "The Master Wand" by @shychick-52

A fanfic of a fanfic, y'all. Based off of @shychick-52 's A03 work, "The Master Wand", AN AMAZING FANFIC IF YOU HAVENT READ IT GO DO IT RIGHT NOW. It's still a work in progress, but after... Certain events, I needed to write something to comfort Cedric cuz my heart hurts too much.

Also, yes, I did spend a stupid amount of time researching 19th century/modern day rib fracture treatment. Also symptoms. For the sake of a fanfic of a fanfic. Sue me!

Anyways enjoy, shout-out to everyone else who read @shychick-52's work and deserves financial compensation.

Warnings: blood mentioned, alluding to injuries, implications of medicinal drug use

The days following Cedric's return back to Enchancia were... A blur, if he's being honest. It still felt surreal that he was back in his tower again, completely untouched from his absence as if it never happened to begin with.

Oh, how Cedric envied it.

Every breath was now a painful reminder of what he endured, and of the vile things he had to do for Sofia's survival. Every shadow felt like a trap waiting to be sprung on the sorcerer, dragging him back in chains that rendered him helpless.

Hell, he can't even look at himself without the evidence of those haunting events written in black and blue bruises across his eye and face.

The entire kingdom hailed him as a hero, again, and the newfound respect Cedric had been given these last few weeks is now "forever immortalized", as King Roland declared.

Cedruc glanced down at the specks of red against his fingers from another coughing fit, grimacing.

Respect was a hell of a price to pay, as he's come to know now.

Not that respect was the main fuel for his actions, anyways. Cedric had long since made peace with dying, if it meant Sofia was safely returned home without a scratch. Truthfully, he couldn't imagine a way to do that without laying down his life, but...

Now Cedric has to deal with the aftermath of being a hero, again, but this time didn't feel nearly as gratifying; if anything, Cedric felt like a fraud.

"...Am I really a hero after doing such awful, terrible things?" Cedric questioned himself, pinching the bridge of his nose. The lingering silence was his only response, of course. Cedric fidgets restlessly, the lack of an answer mirroring the uncertainty stirring in the sorcerer's heart.

Needy for a distraction from his thoughts, along with his broken rib, Cedric takes a drag on his pipe. Each inhale felt like both a blessing and a curse. He knew that smoking with a broken rib wasn't smart, given the breathlessness he's already experienced due to his injuries; but willow bark tea does little to nothing for his pain, and Cedric isn't going to accept whatever brain numbing nonsense, like opium, a doctor would prescribe.

May as well get some relief if I'm damned either way, Cedric thought to himself, shrugging as he takes another hit.

He sputters out the smoke with a fit of short, painful coughs that quickly give rise to wheezing. Cedric's coughing had only gotten worse as he returned home, the restrictive tugging on his chest growing by the day; equally, to the darkening of the bruises and swelling on his left side.

The sorcerer covers his mouth with his sleeve, feeling lightheaded from the struggle to just force oxygen back into his lungs. Tears began to build as he coughed, at first from the physical pain; the stabbing, radiating burn and soft clicking of broken bones felt as if Grimtrix was digging his foot into his side, over and over again.

But what really stole the breath from Cedric's lungs, was the foul tang of his own blood in the back of his throat. The sorcerer can't help but gag; he wasn't squeamish by any means, before the Order. But now, the taste, even the sight of blood was enough to make panic take control of his heart.

Cedric didn't really know when the coughing slowly started to dissolve into weak sobs, but the tears were falling, plip plip plip, as hot and heavy as his own blood from his lips.

His free hand scrambled to hold onto the workshop bench, leaning forward onto it for support until the cough spell faded.

Just as the lanky man was regaining his composure, a knock at his door made Cedric nearly jump out of his skin.

A strangled yelp catches in his throat, and if Cedric wasn't so pissed off at the sudden interruption, he would've been embarrassed by such a noise leaving him.

The sorcerer waves his hand with a soft curse towards the heavy oak door, not having the energy or care to bother greeting whoever it was. Cedric had it made up in his mind that he would just give them what they wanted, then swiftly kick them out again.

He turns to glare at his unwelcome visitor, honestly expecting one of the royal children or a castle staff member.

Before he gets the chance to speak, however, Cedric's mind immediately blanks when his caramel eyes meet yours.

"...I wasn't bothering you too much, I hope?" You offered with a nervous, apologetic smile. Cedric had made it clear that he felt fine enough to resume work like normal, and DIDN'T need any doctor's aid for his injuries, and you wanted to respect his wishes, of course.

Although your own anxiety had won out anyways, which has led you to knocking on the sorcerer's door.

"No, not at all."

Cedric replies with a tight smile, which makes your heart sink.

"I just- wanted to check up on you. I know you said you're fine, but, well... You know me."

You rub the back of your neck as you eye Cedric with a knowing look, which melts his stern face with a tiny smile in reply.

"I'd like to think so, my dear."

He replied back, suppressing the urge to cough as his breath waned. The sorcerer clears his throat, trying to downplay it. You notice how he doesn't really answer

And I know you too, Cedric. You think to yourself after a moment, your eyes leaving his to scan his body properly.

You saw how torn up the sorcerer was when he first returned- despite your pleas to help him, he insisted to be left alone, that he was fine.

Now, you weren't sure if he looked any better or worse since that day.

At least he wasn't covered in so much blood this time.

The dark circles usually under Cedric's eyes have somehow gotten more dark, making it appear like he has two black eyes instead of one. The gash on his forehead has been bandaged, at least, but the linen strips are already beginning to unravel. Your gaze settled over to his hands, wringing in a nervous habit, thick bandages surrounding the base of his knuckles and fingers.

You didn't glean any details from Cedric yet, but you heard enough from the rumors flying about the castle from what Sofia recounted. Cedric got beaten up, bad, and it showed.

I can't imagine what else he's hiding underneath that robe... You think to yourself, swallowing the dread as you step forward and approach Cedric.

The sorcerer watches you with wary eyes as you come closer, not really making a move to embrace you.

You pause for a moment, a tense silence filling the room from a million things left unspoken between you both. You look up at Cedric, eyes searching for... You don't even know, really. Confirmation, that he really is okay?

Or that he actually isn't, because who would be? How could you even begin to console him after such horrors?

You exhale through your nose, but shove your insecurities aside. Your hand rests on Cedric's arm, squeezing it gently. Your palms rub up and down in soothing motions, feeling how tense his body was underneath your touch.

"... Your bandage is starting to come undone." You whisper softly, lifting your hand away from cedric's arm to free the strands of silver hair sticking out from the gauze.

"I know."

The sorcerer sighs wearily, turning to rub his cheek and avoid the concern etched on your face. Cedric felt the dull ache of unshed tears behind his eyes, pent up from the thick wall of his defenses.

"I'll fix it later- you don't have to worry, darling." Cedric mutters, inhaling sharply in pain as another chunk of hair was unraveled from the loose linen wrappings. He squeezed his injured hand shut, resisting the urge to flinch and make his discomfort be known.

You frown in turn, exhaling softly in slight exasperation.

"I'm already worried, Cedric."

Bits of dried blood still clumped at the ends of his hair, the white locks stained a rust color. It was evident that the bandages were made in haste, and haven't been properly looked after since. You knew Cedric was a perfectionist to a fault, and the feeling of loose cloth rubbing against his forehead would've surely made him go crazy by now.

Something was definitely wrong here; your gut was right. Cedric wasn't taking care of himself at all- instead opting to isolate in his tower, until he can properly mask his own emotional disarray from others.

Cedric shrivels under your piercing gaze, knowing that the effort to pretend to be okay was ultimately fruitless. Yet he still does it, like a bad habit he still can't quite shake off. Guilt begins to gnaw at him, and he shifts in place restlessly.

You grab his hand, seeing his anxiety and offering him relief through your touch. Cedric intertwines your fingers together, his thumb caressing yours. The silence wasn't so dense, now.

If felt opposite, in fact- fragile, like one word would shatter the sorcerer into a million tiny pieces.

He takes in another painful breath.

You hear the slight wheeze in his following exhale, and it pricks your heart. Gently kissing his unbandaged fingertips, you try to impart love and care into his skin, to show that you're here, with him, and he can trust you.

"We need to change those bandages together... alright?"

Your gaze lifted upward towards the sorcerer, desperation and love swirling together alongside the welling tears in your eyes.

Cedric swallows, hard, trying to keep up the facade of composure. As if there was any more room within himself to stuff down the tears, or the lingering sense of doom and panic that keeps him up at night, or the inevitable feeling of his soul cracking and splitting in half, much like the broken rib lying in his chest.

Which is why, with only a quiet sob, Cedric says, "I know."

________

You gather the remaining ingredients and supplies necessary from Cedric's workshop into your arms before dutifully walking back to the washroom. Cedric was sitting on the floor, the cold tile pressing into his thighs grounding him still to reality. He heart was racing, the fear of your reaction making him almost regret agreeing to this at all.

But seeing you round the corner, supplies in tow with your arms barely balancing it all made a smile creep along his cheeks.

You huff, placing everything down haphazardly on the edge of the sink. Bandages, tinctures, a wound salve Cedric uses for everyday accidents, scissors, alcohol, a couple rags, and a small bucket were amongst the lineup of things you had prepped.

"Spared no expense, I see..." Cedric commented, trying to crack a joke to keep his fear in check.

You smile to yourself, then turn to Cedric.

"For you? Always."

That got Cedric to genuinely smile, his previous fear transforming into soft butterflies in his stomach.

After washing your hands thoroughly, You kneel down in front of him, scissors in your hand.

"I'm going to cut away the old wrappings first, okay?" You lightly touch Cedric's cheek, and he responds by giving your hand a quick kiss, followed by a nod.

You get to work cutting through the loose linen, your heart racing by the second as the cloth gets more stained with the rusty color of dried blood.

Carefully peeling away the old bandage from his forehead, you gasp at the clotted blood and hair sticking to the gash, a semblance of a scab forming at the edges. The skin around it was smeared with blackish brown blood, mixing with the bruises lingering on his brow.

"Cedric..." You whispered in anguish, your face falling.

The sorcerer hangs his head, and you tear your eyes away from the injury to grab a rag, dipping it into the warm water gathered in the bucket you brought in.

You wipe the mess on his forehead clean, Cedric wincing underneath you. The sound breaks your heart of course, but you knew you had to keep going. The wound could've easily gotten infected by now, and the idea of letting that happen to him made you angry- at him, for not letting you help in the first place; then, yourself, for not acting sooner regardless.

But that anger doesn't hold a candle to rage you felt towards the people responsible for this.

"...Are you alright, dear?" Cedric asks in a small voice, his finger touching your arm as it works on his head.

You sigh, heart breaking. Of course this sweet man would ask- always concerned about the needs and emotions of others around him, even with his head split open.

"I should be asking you that-," you reply, frustration seeping into your words more than you liked. You feel Cedric's sad eyes burn into you, not knowing how to reply.

You turn away, unable to bear those brown eyes that make your heart ache.

"I'm fine, love. Really, I... I just." You stop, unable to find the words to say that could explain yourself. You sigh loudly, leaving your sentence hanging midair as you turn to the sink to change the subject. This wasn't supposed to be about you, anyways.

"I don't know what to put on your gash... I kinda just grabbed stuff." You muttered, gesturing to the bottles you've seen Cedric grab a few times when accidents injured him.

Cedric doesn't even lift his head as he replies, "The yellow jar- with the mismatched lid."

You grab it, returning to his side. Cedric stares at the lid that squeaks in the way that always annoyed him, because he lost the damn lid due to an explosion, while patching up another, different injury.

He feels the familiar ointment be pressed into his skin, and a pained groan leaves him at the biting sting of it. Cedric leans further into the wall, and you cringe apologetically.

"I'm sorry- should I stop?"

"No, no- just, make it quick, please." He says through gritted teeth, and you quickly cover the rest. Grabbing the rag, you clean the dried bits of blood out of his silver bangs, until they get back to their soft white-grey color.

He exhales in a sigh of relief, but that triggered a coughing fit as his bones creaked in protest. He doubles over, the wheezing taking hold as his entire frame shakes with the force of his coughing.

"Cedric-?!" You cried in concern, staring helplessly as the sorcerer continued to struggle to inhale. The pain stabbing in his lung felt like his side was on fire, and his hands scrambled to grab the rag on the floor to cough into- tasting the metallic tang already climbing up his throat.

You see the blotches of red staining the cloth, the air in your lungs stolen.

"Cedric..? You-"

"I know, it's bad." He grimaced, cutting you off as he groaned.

Seeing your skin blanch, he's quick to console you.

"It can't be helped- broken ribs sort of do that, I suppose!" His voice cracked like his rib as he forced out a laugh, hoping you would crack a smile.

You didn't.

"If you knew it was bad, why did you say you were fine! You can't just hide a broken bone from me, Cedric!" Your voice hardens, brow furrowed deeply as your gaze holds on the fresh red specks on the rag.

"....I know- I'm sorry, (y/n)." Cedric shoulders droop, his arm cradling his inflamed side as well as his wounded heart. The guilt cut clean through him, and there was nowhere to hide from your piercing eyes that always stripped him down to his most vulnerable.

Cedric cuts through the silence first, tracing the grout between the tiles of the washroom floor.

"I know I should've said something. I know I should've- asked for help..." Cedric sighs, painfully.

"I just... I couldn't. I couldn't keep looking at it- the bruises, the cuts, the- the blood..." Each word makes the sorcerer tremble further, cringing at the rag in his hand. Another piece of evidence damning him to that same night, where he was beaten half to death.

"Everything since that day has reminded me of it, somehow. I just- I don't know, I didn't want to see you, or anyone else, to see me like this. Broken."

Your frown deepens, then your eyes, soften as you process what Cedric said. Your own tears start to form, and you regret snapping on the man. He was already hurting enough, and now instead of helping, you were making it worse.

"Or, having to see the way you're looking at me right now." Cedric added, lifting your chin away from the rag, your eyes crashing into his sweet caramel brown irises.

You hold each other's stare, until you break the silence next.

"How am I looking at you, Cedric?" You ask, voice soft and apologetic. You trace the curves of his cheeks with your hands.

"Like you blame yourself..." Cedric replies in a melancholy tone, his sad eyes locking with yours.

You swallow the urge to apologize on instinct, but a small "I'm sorry," leaves you anyways, turning your face away to take your eyes off him.

"Don't apologize, (y/n)." Cedric catches your face in his hands, turning you back to him.

"I thought I wanted things to just go back to normal- you know. Before, everything happened..." Cedric's eyes darken, but he presses on.

"But it seems like no matter how much I want to avoid it, I can't. Don't have much choice, really." His flicker down to the bloodied rag, damning him once again.

Your eyes track his, biting your lip in a concerned pout.

"You don't have to do it alone." You offer gently, resting your hands on his shoulders, giving it an encouraging squeeze.

Cedric smiles, grasping your hands in his and squeezing them back.

"I know; I'm sor-"

Cedric gasps as his sentence is swiftly cut off by your warm lips. He melts into the kiss, his hands cupping your face. For a brief moment, it was like all the pain and tension bound to his body faded with each brush of your lips together. Cedric can't find the strength to pull away, needing every passing second to last longer.

You feel him finally relax, and you kiss him a few seconds longer before you have to part for air.

Cedric cough slightly trying to catch his breath, the pain making him flinch a little while he hugs his side.

You noticed, playing with the seams of his robe.

"Let me see?" You coaxed nervously.

"It's not pretty, darling..." He replies with a sigh.

"It's you, so that's clearly not true." You retort without missing a beat.

That got Cedric to relax a little, a small smile spreading across his cheeks.

"Don't say I didn't warn you." Cedric smirks, but his eyes still are wary.

You kiss his cheek, shrugging off his robe.

"Don't worry about it. I'm here to help." You reassured him, stripping him down slowly and apologizing every time he winced from the crack of his ribs.

Shirtless, you lift Cedric's arm out of the way. You can't stop the gasp of shock that leaves your mouth; purple and green splotches lined up Cedric's side, as well as in clusters all over his chest and arms. It makes your eyes sting, and your heart prick, looking at the extent of the damage.

"Oh, Cedric..." You breathed out, your hands barely brush against his bare skin, afraid to even touch him.

"Told you so." He replied, chuckling awkwardly.

"...I'm not going anywhere. We need to ice this." You speak firmly, steeling yourself to treat Cedric further.

"Allow me, then." Cedric straightens up slightly, eager to flaunt his magic. He mumbles the magic words, an ice pack manifesting in your hand.

"...Thank you, love." You reply, pressing the cold pack against Cedric's angry looking bruises.

Cedric groans instantly from the contact, and you aren't sure if it's in pain or relief. His body seizes up a bit, and before you can pull the ice away from him, he rests his gloved hand on your arm.

"I should be telling you that..." Cedric mused, rubbing soft circles into the crook of your elbow.

"You don't need to. It's what I want to do- by making sure you're okay."

You smile, kissing the tip of Cedric's nose.

"...I will be, as long as I'm with you." Cedric sighs, feeling content for the first time since he returned to Enchancia.

He pulls you into his lap, then shortly into another kiss. It was sweet, and soft, and perfect.

"I think I feel better already, love." Cedric eyes you with a flirty smile, and you laugh, a sound that lights Cedric up from the inside out.

Yeah.

He was going to be alright.

[defodisturbed]

Diet Culture - Poly!Recoms x PlusSize!reader

(A/N: inspired by the song Diet Culture by Brye! i love the song and can relate to it as a mid/plus-size person. i wrote this for my friend (you know who you are) and thought she would like it! i've always felt insecure and i'm sure many of you have as well. i hope this can bring you some joy or comfort even in the slightest. enjoy!)

And I know their worst fear is to look like me

And that fact makes me want to kill somebody.

To be a plus-sized person in the modern age has never been an easy feat. At least in the 16-18th century they thought it was very beautiful and desirable to have a body like mine. But now, as resources run dry and there's no space for everyone due to overpopulation, everyone hates fat people more than ever before. The body positivity movement was popular and utilized in the 21st century, but thats far, far behind us now. I feel crippling anxiety and shame every day for having to do the simplest things. Riding the train, feeling tired, and hell, even eating. My last thought before dying was that maybe in the next life I could be thinner.

Here I am now, staring at myself in the mirror. My skin is blue, I have stripes, and Lord, what a fatass I feel like. Why couldn't Parker or whoever's in charge of Project Phoenix just let me live in peace for once? My teammates are standing behind me as I examine my new teeth, tail, and my new skin. How big of a hospital gown did they have to make for me? I should apologize for this. I should apologize for having been brought back. Nobody wants a fat girl on their team. Nobody likes a fat girl. Nobody cares about fat girls. My thoughts run rampant through my head as I start to zone out.

"Hey, Y/N, you good? I know it's a little weird at first..." Lyle asks. I snap out of it and start to walk towards the door. I ask for someone to take me to my room, and so they escort me to my new place. It's very nice. They give me a lot of clothes and tell me to get comfortable because I'll be here awhile.

I get changed and explore my room. It's well lit, and when the lights are off, you can barely see anything. That's good for sleep. The bed is soft and it is comfortable.

When I get settled, the first number I call is my best friend. I tell her about how I just got resurrected and she asks how I feel.

"Fucking horrible. My body is still as fat if not fatter than it was before, my hair is messy, my skin is blue now, I have a weird tail and sharp teeth, and I just want to die again. I would like to die over and over again until they bring me back in at least a smaller body."

My friend tries to comfort me but her advice just doesn't do the trick this time. I tell her I gotta unpack and get situated. We say goodbye and I hang up.

Fuck, why did they have to do this to me?

---

I hear a knock at the door. I roll my eyes, making a game out of guessing who wants to talk to me now. I open the door, seeing my old friend, Alicia Zdinarsk. I invite her in and she offers to help me unpack. I accept her offer, and as we unpack, she tells me how weird it was for her to wake up blue as well. I wanted to shout IT'S NOT THE BLUE! IT'S NOT THE TAIL, NOT THE TEETH, NOTHING LIKE THAT! but I held back. I can't argue without crying anyway.

"Hey, you okay? You kind of zoned out in the wakeup room." Z says. I reply, "Yeah, it's just I really wish they revived me in a smaller body. I don't know how they expect a fat girl to-"

"No. You're not gonna call yourself fat as an insult. You're so awesome, and I cannot imagine being here again without you. Sure, people on Earth might've hated fat people, but we're not on Earth anymore. And last time I checked, we all love you just as you are. You don't need to change anything about you. We love you more than you could ever imagine, okay?" Z said. I was stunned. "Okay." I replied. I was always amazed by their collective love for me, but I never thought it was as deep as this. Nobody has ever told me they love me in the way Z just did, let alone a whole team of soldiers.

"Hello?? Y/N, Z??? You in there??? Mansk is making cocktails for us and I want us all to be there when we get drunk and grind-y tonight!" Lyle yelled through the door, banging on it as he did so. "Lyle, we're gonna head over in a second! For right now, keep it in your pants!" Z yelled back. I chuckled as we finished the last box of stuff. I could hear Lyle make a noise of disappointment outside, not wanting to wait any longer. I rolled my eyes and looked into Z's deeply, before pulling her in for a little kiss. She returned it, and we hugged until Lyle came banging on the door again.

"Can we at least watch a movie in the meantime??"

MWAH hope yall enjoyed!! @dyingofcookies thought you would like this :3 💋💋

[honeybeezgobzzzzz]

𓅨 Your Fate is Sealed With Mine: Chapter Eight

Your Fate is Sealed With Mine: Y/N Burgess is the granddaughter of Alex and Paul, and after having spent so many summers at their manor and always wondering why she was forbidden from entering the basement, she descends the steps into the world of the Order. She broke out the being that had been trapped in that glass cage, but what does he want with her now that he is free?

Warnings: Language, Reader Throws A Tantrum/Has A Meltdown.

To Note: Morpheus/Dream x Female!GranddaughterReader, based on Netflix’s ‘The Sandman’, Reader now has long-ish hair for plot reasons (Just so Morpheus can tug on it later).

Word Count: ~2.2k

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Looking at the scratches on your upper arm in the bathroom mirror, you applied another layer of ointment with a frown, wondering why it was taking so long to heal. Three weeks was plenty of time for them to at least scab over. Wounds just didn’t heal this slowly unless infected, which the lines didn’t appear to be. But you were pretty sure that the little black veins coming from the cuts weren’t supposed to be there…

“Worry about that later, you have a mission to complete, Y/N.” You told yourself, looking yourself directly in the eyes. You had decided that after three weeks of toying with the idea of just outright talking to Paul about what was down in the basement, today was the day. Besides, you could always use your wound as a trump card. Getting periodically chased and then banged up by those beasts from hell was wearing you down like an overstretched rubber band. At some point you were bound to snap. Thankfully you hadn’t gotten any more bad scratches, but the bruises and occasional nicks you received stumbling your way through The Dreaming, were getting harder and harder to pass off as hiking injuries. The gouge on your jaw was blatant and no amount of cosmetics could conceal the scab that had formed.

Merv and Lucienne were trying their best to help you stay safe from the beasts, but they could only do so much against the determined beasts. In the end, Lucienne called you an Enigma she was determined to solve. Spending time with the castles janitor Merv had you realizing just how much of a potty mouth the talking pumpkin-headed scarecrow had, and his facial expressions were hilariously accurate to his moods. Then there was the care of their missing king. You found their absolute loyalty to him rather admirable since learning that the king had been missing for over a century. One had to be quite dedicated to remain at their post for this long with a missing sovereign.

Abandoning your bathroom, you rewrapped the bandage around your scratches before tugging down the sleeve of your shirt. Breakfast was at eight o’clock exactly and Alex’s home physical therapy appointment was at nine thirty, that gave you a chance to talk to Paul without causing Alex any distress. You slowly made your way to the first floor and entered the dining room, moving straight for the tea tray first. You fixed yourself a cup of tea and sat down, glancing at your grandfathers.

“Good morning,” You spoke, taking a sip of tea. Paul looked over his glasses at you and Alex’s gaze narrowed on your jaw.

“Good morning, darling, sleep well?” Paul broached cheerfully, trying to cut the tension between the three of you.

“Quite well, grandpapa, and you?” You returned, keeping the fake pretense of calm.

“Very well, very well,” Alex let out a huff, clearly perturbed by your demeanor.

“Out with it!” Alex rasped, looking between you and Paul. “Whatever it is that’s between you two that you’ve been quarreling about for the last three weeks I’ve had enough of!”

Paul looked guilty while you set your gaze on the sigil mounted on the wall across from the table, your lips pursed.

“It’s nothing, darling, really. Y/N and I have simply a disagreement on a matter. It’s nothing to work yourself up about.” A disagreement on a matter? Surely you could have come up with a better excuse or lie than that, Paul. It wasn’t even believable to you.

“It’s about the garden,” You added, looking at Alex who’s eyes shrewdly examined yours. “I think that it needs a change, or perhaps a refresh? It hasn’t been updated or refreshed since before I was born. Surely its design is outdated…”

“It is most certainly not!” Paul exclaimed, insulted by your words. Just the reaction you were looking for. The grounds were Paul’s pride and joy, always had been since he’d been but a mere worker for Fawny Rig. You raised an eyebrow in counter, challenging Paul to refute your words. “The design is classic and the plant choice has been carefully selected to compliment the natural foliage.”

“I’m pretty sure the Columbine is over taking the Iris’s and the pond plants are strangling the lilies. I also believe you’ve managed to cross-breed a new species of moss. May I offer you my congratulations?” Paul scoffed while Herman wheeled in the breakfast cart. Your eyes didn’t stray from Paul’s as breakfast was served.

“Everything alright?” Herman asked, looking between the three of you. Alex let out a grumpy sigh, tapping his cane on the ground.

“Paul and Y/N are arguing over the garden this morning, Herman.” Alex said, his attention switching over to the plate in front of him. Paul snorted at his partner and picked up his fork, ending the conversation. Looking down at your own breakfast, you picked at the food. Garden aside, you were on the edge of your seat. You didn’t like the idea of forcing answers out of Paul, but he and Alex left you no choice. At least the rest of breakfast wasn’t as awkward as it had been at the start. When breakfast was finished, you helped Herman clear up before getting Alex to the room where he had his physical therapy. You made sure that he was set and comfortable before heading off to corner Paul.

You checked the dining room first, but he was no longer reading the morning post there, so you started walking around, poking your head in rooms until you found him. After checking a few rooms, one of the scant maids informed you that he was now in the study, reading. So you headed for the study, steeling your nerves for what you felt was going to be a very difficult conversation. It seemed like he was waiting for you to find him, because when you appeared in his peripheral he patted the spot next to him on the couch. That wasn’t a good sign. You sat down next to him and drummed your fingernails on your thighs.

It was a few seconds before he spoke or moved.

“Your grandfather will be very unhappy when he finds out that I’ve told you, but you have to understand, Y/N.” Paul started ever so softly. “This has tormented Alex for so long, all he wanted was to keep us safe. To keep you safe.”

Safe? Exactly what was down there? What was hidden beneath the manor mortars?

“I don’t understand, grandpapa,” You spoke in confusion. “Protect me from what? What could have such a hold on grandpapa Alex that it has tormented him for years?”

Alex slowly closed the book he had been reading and set it aside. He then reached for your hand and took it, giving your hand a squeeze as he looked into your eyes.

“Before I show you, I need to tell you about your great grandfather, Roderick.” You leaned back in your seat. Your lips pursing together. You had figured it had something to do with what you learned while at the archives.

“I know about his obsession with the occult.” You said, chewing on your lip. “And I am also aware of the Order of Ancient Mysteries.”

“I figured as such, you are our granddaughter… but you don’t know what Roderick did, Y/N.” Paul said, his face gravely serious. “He didn’t just dabble in the occult, he was obsessed with it, and one night, one night he took it too far and we’ve had to deal with the repercussions.”

“What did he do?”

“He tried to summon Death.” Tried to? Well he obviously wasn’t successful and ended up summoning something else… and the only reason you could believe what he was talking about was because of your dreams and everything that had happened to you recently. Paul stood up and tugged on your hand. “Come, darling, it is time you see what is in the basement.”

You stood up from the couch and let him lead you towards that basement door you had always been told to never go near. As he punched in the code to the door, that nauseating pit of dread in your stomach rebelled and you started feeling physically sick. You walked down the stone steps and every step you took felt heavier and heavier. Your heart started to race. Reaching the bottom of the stone stairs, Paul took a right and moved forwards a few steps before stopping. He looked at you.

“Please, darling, don’t judge us until you have the full story. This has been quite difficult, especially for Alex.” You didn’t like how he said those words and looking down at the arm he gestured towards the end of the metal and stone hall, you started moving forwards. Judging by the way the basement was set up, it probably was used as a dungeon when it was first constructed. Approaching the open gates on the left, you looked at the security guards sitting at a modern table, minding to themselves. You slowed down and Paul wrapped an arm around your shoulders. “If you don’t want to see, I completely understand.”

“I’m through wondering,” You told him. He gave you a firm nod and you both turned and walked down the stone steps of the brightly lit room. You froze in place the moment your eyes caught sight of what was in the middle of the room. It felt like your heart had stopped or your blood had turned to ice. Feeling like you were going to throw up, you were caught in silver blue eyes staring into yours, trapped behind a cage of glass. “What have you done.” You whispered those words so softly you almost didn’t hear them yourself. It couldn’t be coincidental that the man that had plagued you nearly your entire life, was the very man trapped in the basement of Fawny Rig.

His gaze pierced into yours as if to say ‘finally’. You were compelled to step forward in a trance, approach him in a mindless state, entirely captivated by his beauty and frightfully vibrant eyes. But the horror and dread that rotted away in your veins kept you rooted in your spot. You felt petrified, your body shaking with visible trembles. All those years of torture, pain, and suffering, condensing into this one moment that stole your breath from your lungs. But what you felt was dichotomous. Beyond the horror and fear was an impenetrable feeling of possession. You were his.

“How long?” You finally whispered, looking at Paul. “How long has he been down here?”

Paul looked entirely uncomfortable with that question, but answered honestly.

“It has been over one hundred years… but Darling, you have to understand. He is dangerous—“

“You and I need to have a word upstairs.” You spoke, your voice now eerily calm. “Now.”

You gave the man that haunted you in both your waking hours and dreams, one last look before turning around and striding from the basement. Paul reluctantly followed behind you. As you walked, you could feel your body quivering with rage and horror. It was an indescribably dreadful feeling and one that shook you to the core. You knew exactly who he was and his imprisonment was far worse than what your grandfathers’ probably thought. You walked your way to the study, not wanting your incoming shouting to disturb Alex. The moment the study door was shut you exploded.

“Do you have any idea what you have done!?” You exploded, rounding on Paul like a viper poised to strike. “Never mind that you are keeping him locked up in a glass cage like an animal, unwilling and in such state!”

“Darling he is a very old, very dangerous being!” Paul argued back. “After Roderick summoned and trapped him, we could not guarantee that upon letting him free, he would not retaliate!”

“Well of course he’ll retaliate! He’s being held against his will!” You argued back, running a frustrated hand through your hair. “This is… bloody hell you’ve no idea what you’ve done by keeping him trapped.”

“Y/N, you must understand, Roderick, when learning that he could not get the being to cooperate with him, performed another spell. He’s bound to the Burgess line and will pick someone to bind himself to! We’ve no idea what will happen when he is freed and we don’t want anything to happen to you. We don’t want him going after you.” Your anger broke ever so slightly. You were still shaking at the revelation of course, but he and Alex were trying to make sure that you wouldn’t be hurt.

“Grandpapa,” You whispered, turning your eyes to him with a defeated look in on your face. “It’s already too late for that, who do you think he chose?” Paul’s face turned ashen, for it was that moment that he realized that you knew far more than he or Alex had anticipated.

“That went better then expected,” Fred spoke, adjusting himself in his seat. “Expected ‘er to go off on ‘em right there.”

“Yeah well, she wanted to talk, didn’ she?” Ernie replied, looking at Fred. “From the look on her face I suspect that the mum isn’t to happy.”

An explosive voice erupted from above and the pair glanced at the ceiling. There was more yelling, floating down from the ceiling like snow from the sky, the voice of Y/N Burgess quite clear and irate. Even the being, still and statuesque as ever, lifted his eyes upwards. Ernie cocked her head as the shouting intensified.

“Right mad, she is.” Fred chuckled with a small laugh. “Always took her to be a firecracker.”

They both looked to the man they were guarding, he was back to sitting cross legged in the center of his cage. They both shivered. In all their years of guarding, they had never seen his eyes blazing such a frightening silver glow.

Date Published: 9/9/22

Last Edit: 5/29/23

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[922skz1205txt]

a day at the races (changbin)

---

information

pov: gn!reader x changbin

series: the season of 1800 (skz royal au)

word count: 2,074

genre: fluff, romance, historical, royalty au, sfw

warnings: none

(all images from Pinterest!)

---

navigation

| intro | minho | felix | seungmin | hyunjin | jisung | jeongin | chan |

---

Horse races were not a popular sport in the country you came from. Sure, horses were used for transportation, either with a wagon or simply by riding on their backs; but racing? You had never heard of such a thing.

When Changbin, the Viscount of Hampden, showed up at the door to your family home with a bouquet of daisies and an invitation to the races, you could simply not decline. You had met Changbin briefly at the ball on the first night of the season. You remembered his cheery smile before you could think of his name when he knocked on your door a few days ago.

You grin at your reflection in the mirror. You are wearing a pale pink dress made of light fabrics that are well suited for the unusually warm day. The layers drape on your figure perfectly while allowing room for movement. You slip on a pair of fashionable white boots, similar to those of the equestrians you and Changbin will be seeing that day. You button up the countless buttons and lace the white strings through the loops, tightening them around the middle of your shins. Lastly, a maid hands you an extravagant, frilly hat. Its wide, lacy brim circles around your head, designed to shield your face from the sun. A small part of you thinks the hat is a little excessive, but you do have to admit that it compliments your dress perfectly.

Your pointed-toe boots click on the wooden floors of your family’s home as you make your way to the parlor. You sip on some water while waiting for Changbin to arrive. Only a few minutes after you had sat down, a soft knock on the door interrupted the quiet in the house. You jump a bit, excited and nervous for the day ahead. A butler opens the door and you hear Changbin introduce himself to the butler.

You walk to the foyer of your home, adjusting your large hat before coming into view. The Viscount smiles when he sees you; the bright smile you remember from the ball.

“My Lord,” you greet him politely, slightly bowing your head, making sure your hat doesn’t slip off your head.

“It is great to see you again, y/n,” he replies. “Shall we?” Changbin extends his muscular arm to you. You accept his gesture and walk down the stone path in your front yard to his carriage waiting in the road. A footman opens the door for you and Changbin. The Viscount holds your hand as he helps you into the carriage. You adjust your skirts as he climbs in after you. The footman closes the door and begins to steer the carriage in the direction of the races.

“Have you been to the races before?” Changbin asks, his voice chipper and full of excitement. You shake your head.

“We don’t have horse races in my country,” you tell him. His eyes widened a bit with curiosity.

“I’m sure you will enjoy it,” he replies. “My family has our best horse racing today. Personally, I think she can beat every other horse by a long shot.” He laughs, and you smile. You remember Changbin telling you about his family’s specialty in equestrian affairs.

“How long has your family owned race horses?”

“As long as we have been in Hampden. Centuries, at least,” he replies. You nod, astonished that he knows so much about his family’s background. “Oh, and look y/n! We are almost there,” Changbin says, beckoning for you to look out of his window. 

You lean over a bit, embarrassed to be in such close proximity to him when you have only spoken a few times prior. Outside of the window, you see pristine lines of white stables. Horses and their riders move around the area, warming up for the race. The carriage takes you and Changbin to the side of the track, which is surrounded by sets of bleachers. You giggle when you see the hats of some of the other patrons.

“What’s so funny?” he asks, smirking as he reaches his hand to you, helping you from his carriage.

“These hats,” you say, stepping onto the dry dirt. You pat the lace on the brim of your hat. “They are a little extravagant, don’t you think?” Changbin chuckles and looks around at the hats of the other attendees.

“Honestly, yes,” he whispers, leaning in closer to you. He eyes a woman who passes by wearing a bright yellow hat decorated with feathers. “Just wait until you see my mother’s,” he grins. You stifle a laugh, wondering just what this hat will look like.

Changbin loops his arm through yours and walks you down a dirt path. Many people greet him as he passes by. He kindly greets everyone, making jokes with some other young men his age about their bets on the horse that will win. He laughs at their jokes, his laugh sounding like a melody to your ears.

You stand by his side as he introduces you to his friends. Everyone welcomes you to their kingdom with kindness. You bow respectfully to each person you meet, unsure of the proper etiquette when greeting others in your father’s country.

Eventually, you and Changbin make your way to the tallest set of bleachers. He leads you to his family, who is sitting in a special, boxed area away from the other patrons. Your heart begins to beat rapidly, realizing that his family must get to sit in such a place for a reason. You feel unworthy of sitting in such luxurious seating on your first time at the races.

Changbin introduces to you his mother and father who excitedly welcome you to the races. You glance at Changbin with a knowing look after gawking at his mothers ruby red hat adorned with jewels, feathers, and various other decorations. He winks at you, and invites you to sit on a bench in front of his parents, next to his older sister and her husband.

You chat with his family as you wait for the races to begin. You find out that his family owns the arena and stables, which greatly impresses you. You tell them that you have never been to a horse race before, to which you are reassured that it is the most exciting sport one can attend.

Soon, the horses begin lining up at the starting line. Changbin explains every detail of the process to you. You nod and listen attentively, interested in learning more about the sport. His excitement makes you smile. You learn that Changbin himself trained Moonlight, the stunning, ivory-white horse that his family chose to compete for them. He answers the many questions you ask him about training her with detailed answers.

“Look to your right,” Changbin says at a pause in your conversation, discreetly pointing to the other side of you. You turn your head, feeling the weight of your hat on your head. Your eyes widen when you see the exquisitely dressed people sitting in another box similar to the one you are in. You snap your head back to Changbin.

“Is that the… royal family?” You sharply whisper, looking him in the eyes. He nods, grinning at someone on the other side of you. Your face pales when you realize how close you are sitting to them. You make sure not to move your eyes in the direction of the royal family, fearful of having to speak with them. Your mind reels with possibilities of the mistakes you could make in front of them.

Luckily, the races begin and distract you from your nervousness. The horses make a mad dash when the sound of a gunshot signals the beginning of the race. The patrons in the crowd cheer as their chosen horse runs past its competitors. Other patrons sigh in defeat when the horse they bet on falls behind. The horse Changbin’s family owns makes her way to the front of the line with swift leaps.

“Yes! Yes, Moonlight!” Changbin jumps out of his seat and cheers when she passes by a spotted horse. The jockey riding the horse tightly grips the reins as they round the tight corners of the track with precision. You find his excitement contagious and stand beside him, cheering on Moonlight. He claps his hands and turns to you, grinning from ear to ear. You return his kind smile, both of your eyes twinkling in the warm afternoon sunlight.

You begin to understand the inner workings of the horse races as you watch more competitions progress through the afternoon. You and Changbin animatedly talk through the races, placing friendly bets that you always end up losing. His family’s horse wins three more races, losing a fourth. Changbin smiles softly and shrugs.

“You can’t win everything,” he comments. You nod, exhausted from the long afternoon in the beating sun. “Would you like to see the stables?” he asks. You instantly perk up. 

“Yes, of course,” you accept. You bid goodbye to Changbin’s family and walk down the stairs of the bleachers. Changbin is congratulated by many people as you both make your way to the stables. You shield your eyes from the sun as you smile to the people who speak with him, recognizing many from the ball and those who introduced themselves to you earlier.

After pushing through the large crowd with Changbin, you finally arrive at one of the painted, white stables. He leads you into the stall at the end of the building, where you see Moonlight grazing on some hay. A stableboy is brushing through her long, white mane. Changbin greets him by name, and the stableboy hands the brush to him. You stand a distance away from the horse, a little frightened by her intense stare at you.

“Y/n?” Changbin says softly, continuing to brush the horse’s mane. “You can come and brush her, if you’d like.” He pushes a piece of dark, black hair from his face. You hesitate, but Changbin beckons you to come closer.

You step slowly, going to his side. He shows you how to gently brush Moonlight’s mane. You take the brush from him, your hands quivering as you nervously run the brush through her white hair. Moonlight whinneys in approval, making you yelp with surprise. Changbin bursts out laughing, and you shoot him a playful warning glance. He grins back at you as you begin to brush again. Your fear quickly dissipates as the soft movements of the brush cool your nerves. Changbin stands beside you, running another brush down the horses’ back to clean her fur.

After spending some time in the stables, you come to really like Moonlight. You feed her an apple from the palm of your hand, and you and Changbin giggle as she eats it in one bite. Though she scared you at first, you learn that Moonlight is very gentle. Changbin tells you she would never hurt a soul, which makes you smile, because you can see the same trait in him.

You wave goodbye to Moonlight as Changbin escorts you back to his carriage. You ride through the streets of the city along the river that cuts it in half. Changbin tells you about how he learned to ride horses, making you laugh with stories of how he consistently fell in his early days. He tells you how training Moonlight made her feel like one of his best friends. You had never realized what deep connections people could have with their horses, and Changbin’s obvious joy let you know that this was indeed true.

The carriage ride abruptly came to an end when you reached the front doors of your home. Though you were exhausted, you were sad that the day had come to an end. Changbin opened the carriage door and helped you down as you held your skirts.

“If there is another race again soon, I would love to attend with you again, Changbin,” you tell him, looking in his joyful gaze. He nods.

“And I would love to attend with you, y/n. Thank you for coming today,” he replies. You thank him again for inviting you and bid him farewell as he climbs into the carriage. With a happy heart, you enter your home and retire for the evening, still buzzing off the excitement of the horse races and your time spent with the Viscount.

---

thank you for reading!

[riveramorylunar]

A Lesso & An Addam

Part Two & Part Three

Pairings: Vampire Headmistress Leonora Lesso x Student Addams Reader

Warnings ⚠️: Principal/Headmistress x Student relationship, animals, biting, forbidden love, feud between the two families, age difference, height difference & Jealous Lesso

Pet Names/Nicknames: Little Raven, Darling & Nora

Word Count: 2,031

Y/N Playing Cello

The Addams family and The Lesso family have hated each other for centuries. Over thousands of years the two families have killed each other due to something the other one has done.

The only Lesso that has been through many of these so-called wars was Leonora Lesso, who was now the headmistress of Nevermore Academy which welcomed all of the misfits. She's been running the place for well over a hundred years now and is known to be the scariest and cruel headmistress of the school.

Y/N arrived at Nevermore a week after an incident at her old school. She got out of the car as her animals rested on her shoulders. She had a black & white snake, a grey mouse, a dark brown sable and a tiny dragon.

The butler of the Addams family bowed before handing Y/N her bag before leaving. Y/N looked up at the school seeing a figure in a window. She tilted her head a bit and when she blinked the figure was gone. She shook her head before walking towards the building as her suitcases disappeared to her room. As she walked into the school everyone stopped talking and looked at her. She looked around before seeing a woman walk up to her. The woman had copper red hair, pale skin and green eyes. The woman stopped in front of her and raised an eyebrow. "So you must be Y/N Addams am I correct" the woman said while looking at Y/N. "No I'm the boogyman" Y/N sarcastically said before rolling her eyes. The woman in front of her smirked before tilting her head up a bit. "Well pleasure to meet you I'm Headmistress Leonora Lesso" The woman said causing Y/N's lip to twitch a bit. So this was the woman she heard so much about. They kept looking at each other in silence as the students started whispering.

"Alright let me show you to your room" Leonora said breaking the silence. "I can find my own way to my room" Y/N said with little to no emotion as she heard her snake hiss quietly. Leonora's lips twitched up into a smirk as she gripped her can she was holding. "I insist" Leonora said causing Y/N to sigh before following the headmistress up the stairs and then down a hallway. They walked up another staircase and then down a shorter hallway before Leonora stopped in front of a door. "Well this is it, welcome to Nevermore Academy Y/N" Leonora said before walking away.

Y/N watched as Leonora disappeared down the hall before looking over at the door. She twisted the knob before pushing the door open.

Y/N was speechless as she set her pets down onto the ground. She shut the door before walking around the place. Her suitcases were on the floor next to the bed so she walked over and opened the biggest one. After unpacking her things she took her hair out of the braid she had in. Her bangs went just past her eyebrows as she stroked through her hair. Y/N's hair just went down to her hips. Her mother always told her to never cut it but since she was out of her mom's grasp she was able to do anything she wanted. She took her blue eye contacts out revealing her grey eyes. After taking a shower Y/N grabbed a pair of scissors and started cutting her hair.

An hour later Y/N had finished cutting her hair and she looked into the mirror. She stroked her hand through her hair before smirking as she looked at her hair which was cut into a wolf cut.

There was a knock on Y/N's door so she walked out of the bathroom and towards the dorm door. She opened it and saw a girl with blonde hair standing there. "What do you want" Y/N said looking down at the shorter girl. The blonde haired girl held her hand out. "I'm Enid" the blonde said still holding her hand out which Y/N did not shake. Enid rubbed the back of her neck and smiled nervously. "Are we done here" Y/N said and Enid nodded making Y/N slam the door shut in Enid's face.

It was night time and Y/N was sitting on her balcony setting up her cello. Her pets came out and curled up to each other and listened as she started playing.

Meanwhile Leonora was in the room across from hers working on some paperwork when she heard the music. She stopped before getting up and walking to her door and opening it before walking across the hall. She turned the knob slowly and opened it quietly. She stood in the doorway watching Y/N play the Cello with her back facing her. Leonora tilted her head to the side slightly before smiling softly. As Y/N finished Leonora stayed in her place in the doorway just watching Y/N move around. "You're pretty good with the Cello" Leonora said causing Y/N to jump a little. She turned around to see Leonora in her doorway leaning against the doorframe. "How long have you been standing there" Y/N asked as she watched her snake Rouge slither over towards Leonora. Leonora pushed herself off the doorframe before bending down and picking Rouge up. "Long enough to know that you're really good" Leonora said walking over to her. She stopped right in front of Y/N before lifting Y/N's head up so that she was looking directly at her. "And that you play so elegantly" Leonora said causing a faint blush to cross Y/N's cheeks.

Leonora smirked a little at that before letting go of Y/N's jaw. "Get some rest classes begin tomorrow" Leonora said before handing Rogue back to Y/N who just stood there frozen as she watched Leonora leave.

Later that night Y/N couldn't sleep at all. All she could think about was Leonora Lesso and these weird feelings she was having. Y/N sat up before looking over to see her pets fast asleep curled up to each other. She stood up before deciding to go to the garden behind the school. She snuck out of the school and walked towards the garden. Before she stepped foot into the garden she heard a scream. She rushed towards the scream and hid behind one of the bushes. She peaked around the corner and gasped when she locked eyes with the person. She hid back as her heart started racing. "You shouldn't be out here this late" a voice came causing Y/N to look up. Her eyes widened in shock at who she saw. Leonora Lesso had blood from her mouth all the way down her neck. Her eyes were blood red causing Y/N to gulp. Leonora grabbed Y/N by the jaw with her bloody hand. "I should kill you for seeing that but I'm not going to" Leonora said before leaning in closer. "But you have to promise me you won't tell anybody what you saw or things will get worse do you understand" Leonora said as she slightly dug her nails into Y/N's jaw. "Yes I understand I promise I won't tell anybody" Y/N rushed out causing Leonora to smirk showing off her sharp fangs. "Good now you better get back to bed" She said pulling away from Y/N who now had blood on her face. Leonora walked away before shouting "See you around Little Raven" she said causing Y/N to blush even more.

The next morning Y/N woke up and got ready for her first day of lessons. After Y/N finished getting ready Rouge slithered up Y/N's arm and rapped around her shoulders. She smiled and stroked under rouge's chin before picking up her other animals and heading out of her dorm. Just as she walked out of her dorm she saw Leonora walk out of the room across from hers. Y/N froze in place as Leonora looked at her. Y/N watched as Leonora walked away before letting out the breath she didn't know she was holding. "Is this what they call falling in love" she whispered as she stroked Ebony as she started walking. Little did Y/N know Leonora was listening to the whole thing. Leonora smirked as she headed towards one of the classes.

Later that day it was lunch time and Y/N was eating alone occasionally feeding her pets when she heard someone sit in front of her. She looked up to see a boy with dark skin, ashy blonde hair and yellow eyes. "You're Y/N Addams right" The boy said and Y/N nodded causing the boy to smile before holding his hand out. "Well I'm Claude Wolfgrim it's nice to meet you" the boy said and Y/N shook his hand before smiling a bit.

Since that day they spent everyday together since they had the same classes. For the past month of them spending so much time together someone has been lurking in the shadows watching them laugh and talk. The person felt jealous and angry at the same time. It was the day of the school ball and Claude had asked Y/N to the dance as just friends and she accepted the invitation causing the wolf to howl. Y/N was just finishing up when there was a knock on the door. She walked over after putting her hair pins in her ponytail.

She opened the door to see a young girl standing in the doorway. "Headmistress Lesso would like to see you in the garden" the girl said before leaving. Y/N sighed and shut the door behind her before heading towards the garden. She arrived at the garden a couple minutes later and looked around not seeing anyone. "Hello little Raven" she heard a low voice say. She was about to turn around but Leonora wrapped one arm around Y/N's waist from behind. "You've been hanging out with that wolf boy to mush lately" Leonora whispered into Y/N's ear causing her to shiver. "I'm allowed to hang out with whoever I want to" Y/N scoffed out causing Leonora to chuckle before snaking her other hand under Y/N's arm and wrapping her hand around her neck. "Oh but Darling you're wrong there you belong to me but I'm guessing you didn't know that, hmm" Leonora whispered into Y/N's ear. Leonora's hand grabbed Y/N's jaw before leaning down. "Maybe I should mark you so everyone knows who you belong to Little Raven" Leonora said before her eyes turned blood red.

"You can't do this I'm your student and you're my headmistress" Y/N stuttered out causing Leonora to laugh. "And plus this could never happen because of our families" Y/N said making Leonora growl before tightening her grip. "Who cares about our families history, so what if they hated each other I'd give up my whole family reputation to just be with you" Leonora said causing Y/N to blush before closing her eyes. "Alright" Y/N said giving Leonora the only answer she needed before sinking her fangs into Y/N's neck. Y/N cried out causing Leonora to cover her mouth. Y/N shut her eyes tightly as she felt Leonora tighten her grip around her even more.

Leonora pulled away before licking up the blood that escaped. Leonora looked down at Y/N to see her eyes closed. "Nora" Y/N said causing Leonora to smile softly at the nickname. "Yes darling" Leonora said as Y/N opened her eyes to look up at the red-head. "Can we dance" Y/N said causing Leonora to chuckle before nodding her head. "Of course Little Raven" Leonora said before leaning down and kissing Y/N on the lips.

After they kissed they danced the night away in the garden like no one else existed in the world as they listened to the music. Finally being able to feel happy for once.