#also if this is common knowledge please don’t make me feel stupid

[fangirloverlode]

Idk if this is the best place to ask, but I had a fic idea, and I have a legal question I can’t find a clear answer to. In an American court, is a jury member considered impartial if they know the defendant's lawyer/s? Either as a close friend or as an unmarried significant other the lawyer doesn’t live with.

[tonicandjins]

learning languages | lee donghyuck

pairing: lee donghyuck | nct haechan x reader word count: 18.5k genre: university au, getting together, smut, fluff, angst summary: in which you're an exchange student and donghyuck teaches you the essential korean phrases you need, and eventually how to fall in love with him tag list: @smwhrinthehaze @byungbyungbaek @sundamariis @thiccfullsun @yesohhsehun @haechoshi @najmnluvr @liz-zo @heyitsconysstuff @magicastle @novawon @gaeulswrld author’s note: I’m so sorry it took so long, but here it is! I imagine conversations with everyone in Korean, except for Mark! 😊 I imagine the conversations with Mark in English. I also have 0 knowledge with the Korean language except from the common phrases every Kpop fan knows lol. So please bare with me and feel free to correct me! ^^ Please also consider tipping me if you want to! NCT Dream is coming to my country this April and I’d love to see them if I could :) TIP ME HERE.

날씨가 추워 (nalssiga chuwo) – the weather is cold

The rain is pouring when you arrive in Incheon. 

It’s not as harsh as it is where you come from, but the February breeze still makes you shiver and curse under your breath, and while you’re wallowing and pouting over the fact that your first day in South Korea is not going as well as you wanted, Mark is chirpy—a little too happy for your liking. 

Of course, Mark is happy. Your bitterness over the weather is not going to spoil his energy, the exact same one—maybe stronger—he has had over the past couple of weeks, counting down the days he’d be back in Seoul, finally. Mark has told you that it had been over a decade since he last visited South Korea, and the Student Exchange Program from your university had been the best opportunity for him to come back after so long, too long. The stupid smile on his face somehow makes you feel better, especially when he jumps from his seat when he sees his childhood friend walk towards your area. 

Renjun is handsome like the picture that Mark sent you a week before your flight to South Korea, but it feels a little unfair that he’s even more attractive in person. His voice sounds like honey and the corner of his eyes crinkle when he smiles as he approaches you and Mark. 

They jump into a tight, dramatic hug that makes a few other people in the waiting area look, but the boys don’t care. Mark lifts Renjun up from the ground, it’s almost embarrassing. The sight makes you feel warm. You wonder how Mark feels. 

It must be amazing, you think, to finally meet someone you’ve been longing to see. Mark had always expressed his yearning for the place—the people, the friends he always had to leave behind when visiting during summer—and it makes you wonder how it feels like to have friends and family away from you. 

Evidently, this is your first time to be away from home. You live (or used to at this point) in a dormitory, a two-minute walk to the campus, a good hour away from home, but you always went home whenever you craved for your mother’s dishes. You’ve never considered living away from home. Sure, you had plans to move out eventually, but not in a different time zone, not in an entirely different culture. Mark, on the other hand, is frequently moving around, dragging his suitcase from place to place, leaving people behind and promising he’d come back when he can.

Born in Canada, Mark had been to more places that you could count, but he has told you many times that nowhere else feels like home, like Seoul. He’s told you many stories of the time his family lived there for a few years before going back to Canada, of his annual visits in the summer, and of his devastation when life had caught up with him that he had to stop visiting when he turned eleven. 

You remember his voice, its tone and emotion, when he called you a couple of months ago, informing you of the exchange program that the university’s administration had posted on the students’ corner, and how fucking amazing it would be if you could sign up with him. 

“It would be a good addition to your credentials,” he had told you. “It’s not going to be for a long time, a semester at least. And we have the option to stay the whole academic year if we wanted to! Plus, I already know a lot of people there. We’ll be fine!”

“I don’t know, Mark,” you had answered, feigning hesitation, even when you knew deep down that Mark had already convinced you by the tone of his voice when he revealed the news. “I’ve never been that far away from home. Remember when we went camping in ninth grade? I cried. For three whole days. I’m not going to survive a semester. Besides, I know not a single Korean word.”

“Come on, Y/N,” he had begged. “Think about it. You’ll be with me the entire time. If we pass the screening, the program will sign us up for free Hangul lessons—though, let’s be honest, I don’t really need it.”

“Why do you have to bring me anyway?” you had asked out of curiosity.

“Because I know you’ll love it there,” he had answered. “Your obsession with studying culture and languages will be satisfied because there is no better way to learn a culture than experiencing the whole thing with your best friend!”

You remember humming in response, as if you’re thinking deeply about it. Mark sighed on the other line, his words making you laugh and finally agree. 

“The chances of Mom letting me go is bigger when I tell her you’re coming with me,” he had admitted. Mark, upon hearing your agreement to his proposal, began listing out the places he would take you. The phone call lasted for three more hours and it had seemed like Mark already had an entire plan in his head before he even asked you if you would go with him. 

Passing the program had been easy and so was acquiring your visa. What was truly the pain in the ass, you admit, is learning the damn language. You salute Mark for being able to speak Korean so fluently, but he’s shit at teaching you and you had to rely on the free lessons you had taken every weekend and your favorite language mentor, Lee Minho in Legend of the Blue Sea. Your Korean is awful. Your tongue is a little too short, too stiff, for said language, and the situation almost makes you back out of the entire program and ditch Mark. 

But here you are, still shit at Korean, but standing among hustling people and waiting for your best friend to wrap up the moment he’s sharing with his long-time friend. Renjun finally catches your eyes as you awkwardly watch them on the side, your backpack becoming heavier each second you’re standing on the airport tiles. He pulls away from Mark, smiling, beaming towards you and offers a handshake. 

“Hwang Renjun,” he introduces. You remember their last names go first here. “Nice to meet you.”

It almost startles you when he speaks English. Mark forgot to mention his friend is fluent, you think. 

You tell him your name, voice smaller than it usually is, and express your relief that he speaks English. 

“I’m originally not from here either,” he explains. “I’m Chinese. My family had to move here before I could even properly pronounce words for my Dad’s work. Went to an international school, where I met Mark back in second grade.”

So, he’s cute and multilingual. How unfair.

“And I’d love to chat longer,” he says, switching to Korean now, before you can even respond. “But Hyuck is waiting in his car. We could talk on our way to your dormitory. For now, let’s go. Hyuck hates waiting.”

“Hyuck drove? What happened to your car?” Mark asks, helping you with your luggage and pushing the cart himself. Renjun insists to carry your backpack, and he had already gently pulled it from your shoulder before you could refuse.

Mark and Renjun talk about Hyuck, both switching to speaking Korean now, on their way out of the arrival area and it doesn’t take long for them to spot their friend’s car outside. The rain had stopped pouring by the time you’re settling yourselves inside their friend’s car. The second you settle yourself on the leather seat, you sigh in relief. Traveling is a lot more exhausting than you had initially thought. 

Renjun sits on the passenger seat, right beside Hyuck, you assume, and Mark settles himself beside you.

“Mark Lee,” Hyuck greets, looking at Mark through the rearview mirror. “A pleasure to finally meet you.”

It takes you a second to understand what he said. It’s only then that you realize you really are in Korea. 

“Lee Donghyuck,” Mark responds in the same tone. “You’re real. I’m happy to see you in person and not just through Facetime. I want to hug you.”

“Am I better looking in person?” Hyuck teases. “Hug me when we’re at your dormitory. I’ll even kiss you on the lips if you want to.”

“Disgusting,” Mark grimaces. “By the way—” He turns his attention to you the same time Hyuck begins driving. “This is Y/N.”

Hyuck only smiles, nodding a little to you through the rearview mirror, brushing his brown hair using his fingers to fix it up. Renjun begins to ask how the flight was and Mark replies. All three boys strike up a conversation in Korean and it was all too much, too fast, for you to catch up and understand anything, so you stay quiet on your seat, leaning against the window, and begin to wonder how things will go for the entire spring semester you’ll be spending in this foreign city. 

Mark never told you that the drive from Incheon to Seoul is long, so far that you didn’t even realize you had fallen asleep.  When you arrive at the dormitory, it’s past six in the afternoon and Mark’s friends ask kindly if you want to go out for dinner. Politely and quite incoherently, you tell them that you’d like to stay. Mark insists on staying home with you and unpacking your belongings, but you urge him to go, spend some time with his friends and walk around. Mark hesitates, but agrees nonetheless, promising he will come back in an hour.

The place the program had picked for you and Mark is not that bad. It’s nothing like home, but it’s not bad. It makes you wonder how Mark does it. You remember not being able to sleep on the first few nights on your dormitory’s bed when you were a freshman. Mark had never told you if he’s had trouble adapting to places he’s been. Maybe you could ask him in the morning. 

The exhaustion hits you again upon entering one of the rooms. Room assignment is yet to be decided, but Mark wouldn’t mind if you sleep on one of the beds while he’s out. And so, you sleep. 

You don’t remember what you dream of. And Mark wakes you at seven in the morning, reminding you that you had to unpack and go grocery shopping. Momentarily, you forget where you are. It hits you the same way it does in his friend’s car. You’re in a different country. A different language. A different time zone. 

It doesn’t feel like home at all even though it’s cold. But you guess you’ll have to make it work. At least until the semester ends. 

약속해요 (yagsoghaeyo) – I promise

When Mark told you he knew a lot of people in Seoul, you should’ve known he was bluffing because he literally knew only seven people.

Mark Lee’s friends are warm and loud and somehow you feel out of place when they all decide to hangout where you and Mark are. It’s the first week of the semester, and you have completed all the orientation and tour you need; Mark, on the other hand, is still catching up with everyone.

By everyone, he meant Kevin Moon, a senior who is also Mark’s cousin’s long-distance boyfriend who happens to be studying in SNU too, Hwang Renjun from Natural Sciences, Lee Donghyuck from Music, Lee Jeno and Na Jaemin from Engineering and Architecture, Zhong Chenle from Humanities, and Park Jisung from Business Administration. Which is why every day, for the past five days, you’re at a place called Arcade, with Mark and two or three people from their group.

It turns out Huang Renjun and Na Jaemin were Mark’s friends from childhood, the others are friends by extension.

Huang Renjun, you understand why Mark is closest to him among all. He’s soft all over but sharp in the mouth. Renjun, you learn, likes to talk about life and likes to give people advice when they need it. He’s reserved with other people but is the complete opposite when he’s with his friends.

Lee Jeno is shy. He normally joins the group after his internship at a construction corporation in the outskirts of Seoul, which is why you haven’t really seen him much—only twice. You haven’t had that many conversations with him yet, but he’s kind enough to pass you the ketchup when he sees you staring at it from the end of the table.

Zhong Chenle and Park Jisung are best friends. There’s not a day that you have not seen either without the other, kind of reminds you of how you and Mark are. They join whenever one is available—two peas in a pod.

Na Jaemin is the closest with Lee Donghyuck. You see them talking in their bubble more frequently than the others. Jaemin is mysterious and a little cold—the complete opposite of Lee Donghyuck.

Lee Donghyuck, well, you’ve got a lot to say about him.

It isn’t necessarily an uncomfortable feeling, because Mark’s friends are kind enough to slow down when they talk to you and are quite protective of you, especially when a random stranger bravely comes up to you to introduce themselves. Lee Donghyuck, in particular, who’s as warm as the sun touching your skin at nine in the morning and whose voice is careful and assuring, ensures that you’re never out of place—even when you feel it all the time. From the day the semester started, there hasn’t been a day when Donghyuck isn’t hanging out with you and Mark at Arcade.

Mark normally picks you up from class because thank God your schedules are aligned to each other despite having different majors. The College of Social Sciences is quiet, unlike the building right beside you, College of Music, and Mark usually takes five minutes to find you, because you can’t trust yourself to walk around on your own—at least not yet. But today, Mark asked if you could meet Kevin first because his girlfriend had something for him from Canada.

“Hyungseo!” You hear someone call, making you look up from your phone to see Kevin walking towards you. He stops and turns around, a girl you’ve seen around the college of social sciences once or twice running towards him.

“Don’t forget to bring the laminated cards we need for Friday!” the lady shouts. Kevin gives her a thumbs up and turns back to you.

“Y/N, right?” he asks in English. You nod. He offers a hand. “I’m sorry we haven’t met personally yet. But I’m Kevin.”

“She called you Hyungseo, though,” you trail off, accepting the handshake anyway. “I’ve seen your pictures from Giselle’s phone, so I knew it was you.”

He laughs. “Hyungseo’s my Korean name. You should’ve packed her with you.”

You reach for your bag and hand him the box that’s been sitting in your backpack all day. “Here,” you say. “No plans on visiting sometime soon?”

Kevin sighs. “I wish I could,” he answers. “It’s not as easy as we thought.”

“You guys sound okay though,” you comment. “I mean, Giselle always sounds so happy when she talks about you back home.”

This makes Kevin smile. “Oh, she does?”

“Why would she think of getting you a gift all the way from home if she’s not?” you ask, biting your tongue as soon as the words come out. “Sorry, I shouldn’t ask.”

“Let’s talk about this over some soju when you find a dude you want to spend the rest of your life with here,” he jokes. “Thanks for bringing this. You and Mark have been so busy; he’s been declining all my invitations to hangout.”

You sigh, “Yeah. It’s only the first week and there are lot of things we had to do. I’ll ask him if we can hang out on the weekend?”

Kevin agrees and hands his phone to you, asking to put your number so he could call you. You do and tell him you’re grateful you could talk to someone in English aside from Mark and bid him goodbye when he leaves. You shoot Mark a text, telling him you’ll be waiting for him and that Kevin’s dropped by to get his gift from Giselle.

Hence, you wait outside, busying yourself with your phone, trying to avoid any interaction as much as you can, and you don’t notice Donghyuck standing beside you until he taps your shoulder and gives you a warm smile.

“Mark is running late,” he says slowly. “Let’s go to Arcade together.”

You smile at Donghyuck’s attempt to pronounce Arcade how you would and nod at him. He leads the way out of the building, his backpack on one shoulder, and asks you how your classes are so far.

“It’s okay,” you answer because it’s all you can think of. “Thank God my professor in Psychology speaks English.”

Donghyuck hums. “It must be difficult for you.”

“It is,” you confess.

Among everyone you have met so far, Donghyuck gives you the feeling of comfort; you’re not exactly the most outgoing person nor the least—you were in between. You were okay with that. And you were okay that Donghyuck is okay with that, too. He doesn’t push you to speak more (probably because he knows you most likely do not know how to say whatever you had in mind), but can be very persuasive when there’s a hint that you’re relaxed.

Lee Donghyuck is bold and charming and amiable like nobody you’ve ever known. Normally, or at least with how you’re used to, people are a little more reserved around people they just met. And culturally speaking, you didn’t expect Donghyuck to be so forward and already so comfortable hanging out with you, what more with having conversations like this.

“Don’t worry, though,” he assures. “You’ll be fine. You’re here for about six months, anyway. I promise it’ll be the best six months of your college years.”

He’s also bright like this—optimistic and kind and assuring. You’re glad Mark is friends with people like him, with Donghyuck.

“Don’t make promises you can’t keep,” you try to say, a phrase Mark taught you the other night. “Did I say that right?”

Donghyuck giggles, stopping and reaching up to ruffle your hair. “You’re absolutely adorable.”

“That, I am,” you joke back, more comfortable around him now.

“I promise,” he says. “It’ll be so good; you wouldn’t want to go back to Canada.”

한국말 잘 못해요 (hangugmal jal moshaeyo) – I don’t speak Korean well | 죽을래 (jug-eullae) – Do you want to die?

Donghyuck turns out to be a better teacher than Lee Minho and Mark Lee combined. He gifts you a small, pocket-friendly notebook, asking you to keep it for the rest of your stay, notably commenting that the material’s size will allow you to bring it everywhere you go. Hence, the tiny, brown faux leather notebook is safely tucked between your necessities inside your bag.

The first sentence he teaches you turns out to be the most essential: I don’t speak Korean well.

Donghyuck takes you to a café called 7 Days, an entirely different vibe compared to Arcade. You don’t question Donghyuck when he puts an arm on your shoulder as you walk together inside the café, but he asks you right away when he must have felt you stiffen from the touch: “Is this okay?”

“Yes,” you answer quietly.

Donghyuck smiles warmly at you. “Here, have a look around and I’ll get you something to drink before we decide what we want to eat. I have the perfect drink for you!”

He goes before you could say anything. You look and realize that the café is not so bad. Its aesthetic is the complete opposite of what Arcade’s going for—cozy, serene, almost like a good place to study or sleep in, whatever you need to survive the day—and the Biscoff latte is bomb, you don’t think you can drink latte differently now.

Conversations with Donghyuck could, well, unfortunately, go only where your limit is. He’s fun and likes to tell a lot of stories, but it’s always interrupted with you asking what a word means and him pulling up his phone and have his translation app say it for you. He makes jokes that you regrettably do not understand, but Donghyuck doesn’t take it to the heart and only says: “By the end of the term, you’ll be saying these jokes to Mark Lee.”

Donghyuck excuses himself to go to the toilet about an hour later and allows you a few minutes by yourself, which you happily spend taking pictures of the interior of the café. You sigh when you realize you didn’t take a picture of the Biscoff latte when it was full and pretty. Someone taps you on the shoulder, and it could only be Donghyuck, so you turn with a smile.

“I forgot to take a picture of the drink—Oh.” It’s not Donghyuck. “I’m sorry, how can I help you?” you ask politely.

The man towers over you and he smiles warmly. Your cheeks flush when he does, because you probably mispronounce each syllable from that sentence. “I’m Sanha.”

You bow courteously, still have 0 idea why the man is talking to you.

“I don’t see you around often,” he says. “And I’m here, like, almost all the time unless I have a class. My dad owns the place. How do you like it so far?”

“It’s… okay,” you say. Sanha chuckles, and your face is hot you probably look like a red potato now. “I mean, not just okay, I just can’t find the words to—”

He takes Donghyuck’s seat. “I can teach you,” he offers. “We can meet up here, and—”

Donghyuck calls your name, voice firm and monotonous like never before. “It’s getting late. Mark texted me to take you home early because Chenle’s making dinner at your place.”

You look at Sanha apologetically, still unable to reply properly so you only say, “I’m sorry.”

Donghyuck doesn’t give you the chance to say anything more because he’s already helping you out of your seat, turning you around so you could start walking towards the door, pushing you until you’re out of the café.

You hear him sigh as you walk away from the café, arm around your shoulder like how you entered the place.

“Y/N, my sweet pea,” he softly says. “Please don’t to talk strangers.”

You shrug, “It’s not like I could just ignore him when he was already taking you space.”

He scoffs. “When strangers start talking to you and being all brave and upfront, you tell them: I don’t speak Korean well. Then just start hitting them with English words and exaggerate your accent. That’s how Mark Lee tries to avoid conversations with girls sometimes because he’s a loser and women make him nervous.”

“I don’t speak Korean well,” you repeat, slowly pronouncing each syllable.

“Where’s the notebook I asked you to bring everywhere?” Donghyuck asks. “Write that down.”

You nod and tell him you’d do it later. Donghyuck leads the way towards the stop just in time for the bus that’s about to leave. You and him hop in, taking the seats in the back, giggling when Donghyuck almost topples over as soon as the bus starts to move. He lets you sit by the window and starts telling you about how his sister always fights him to get the window seat and he’s never won so he naturally just gives people the said seat.

You’re nearby the next stop when you ask him: “Donghyuck, what if I tell people I don’t speak Korean well and they wouldn’t stop bothering me?”

Donghyuck looks nice in his brown, fluffy jacket, face bare, his eyeglasses sitting on the bridge of his nose. He looks even nice whenever he smiles like this.

“Y/N, do you know how cute you are?” An answer you don’t expect. “You’re so cute when you ask questions like this. I want to put you in my pocket.”

“Donghyuck,” you sigh, expecting a serious answer.

He reaches up to pat your head. “You won’t have to worry because we won’t let you be on your own unless you ask us to stay away. Especially me. Not me. I’ll make sure to take care of you and Mark while the two of you are here.”

You nod, still not satisfied with the answer. The Sanha situation awhile ago makes you realize how helpless you’d be if you weren’t with Mark or any of his friends. Donghyuck probably notices your dissatisfaction when he feels like you’re sulking, which you definitely are, because he chuckles and pokes your cheek to get your attention again.

“If it makes you feel better,” he says. “You could always ask them if they want to die.”

“That’s mean!” you gasp.

“Or tell them to fuck off,” he shrugs.

“Donghyuck!”

“What?” he asks. “It’s not like I don’t hear you and Mark say ‘fuck you’ to each other every day.”

You laugh at that. “Saying it in Korean hits different.”

“Right!” Donghyuck agrees. “I’ve been telling people saying fuck you in Korean has more impact than in any other language. I can say the word fuck every day.”

“You kiss your mother with that mouth?” you joke.

Donghyuck coos. “Oh, I’m so proud of you. You’re cracking jokes now.”

The bus halts at your stop, and Donghyuck helps you up by taking your hand the way he’s helping you learn the language. It’s only when you’ve reached the street to the apartment you share with Mark that you realized you’ve been holding hands all the way from the bus stop.

저 알러지 있어요 (jeo alleoji iss-eoyo) – I’m allergic

“Do you not understand what you just did, Mark Lee?” you ask in disbelief.

It’s only a month into your stay in Seoul, and Mark does the dumbest thing ever. Mark Lee comes home with a pet cat.

There were three rules for the spring semester, three very specific and very easy rules: one, to always text each other’s location as soon as you step foot outside of the apartment (which you and him are constantly compliant about; you love Mark Lee for that); two, to never skip a class unless you’re sick (you’re only here until July; Mark decided he’s not wasting a single day in Seoul, even if it means going to classes on time and by schedule without fail); and lastly, don’t keep things you won’t be able to take back home.

Mark had said that these rules are specifically for you because rule number one ensures your safety, rule number ensures you get the real Korean education experience, and rule number three apparently ensures you’re not leaving anything important at the airport when you leave—which now you think is bullshit. The rules are more for him than you, but you love Mark Lee, and it’s not like the cat isn’t cute.

“But, Y/N,” Mark pouts. “She kept on staring at me with these eyes when Renjun was busy comparing brands of dog treats. It was like her eyes were calling me, asking me to take her home!”

The calico cat is a baby; Mark said it’s not even five months old yet. It’s the last from seven siblings, the last one to be adopted (and you think Mark is only telling you this to convince you this is a good idea. She jumps out from Mark’s lap and goes to you, staring at you first before settling herself on your lap.

“She loves you already!” Mark comments.

You sigh. “Mark. You know we can’t take her home, right? We’re leaving in like, five months.”

“Which means I have five months to convince our friends to adopt her while I’m in Canada!” he answers enthusiastically, his eyes almost sparkling with the way he’s talking. “I couldn’t just leave her there. My heart wouldn’t allow me to leave without her!”

“Fine,” you give up. “Don’t cry on me on the plane back home when we leave her.”

Mark chuckles. “I think I should be more worried about you crying on the plane back home.”

Someone knocks on your door before you can ask what he means by that. It’s Mark who stands and welcome the person, and of course, it’s Donghyuck.

It’s Saturday. Saturday means Donghyuck comes and hangs out at your place because he no longer has to work in the university library on the weekends. He’d quit, saying his big mouth isn’t fit for the library, and had asked the school administration to reassign him to another facility. Part of his scholarship is to work at least 16 hours a week in one of the university’s facilities. He’s paid, of course, but Donghyuck says he’s not paid enough to keep his mouth shut for 16 hours a week. The admin asked for a week to figure out where he’d be assigned next, so he had this entire weekend all to himself, which, to how it looks like now, he’d decided to spend with you and Mark.

Mark lets Donghyuck in. The latter’s smile falters when he sees you; he only gives you a curt nod. And it’s not like you’re expecting Donghyuck to cuddle you on the couch, alright? It’s just that, you’ve known each other for a month now, and have hung out together a handful of times—just the two of you—and he called you yesterday telling you he’d come hangout with you and Mark for the weekend, even said something about teaching you to play Apex if you have the energy for it. And it’s not like he’s obligated to come sit beside you as soon as he enters your apartment, but you’re confused when he sits on the single couch far away from you, stance uncomfortable and his face looking like he’d rather be elsewhere.

Mark’s voice fades away when he asks Donghyuck what their plans are, to which Donghyuck answers: “I’m actually just here to say hi. I’m leaving in a bit.”

“No way,” Mark protests.

“Or we could go out?” Donghyuck offers.

“Uh-uh,” Mark refuses. “Y/N has been excited all morning to see you. You’re not going to disappoint her today.”

“I didn’t say anything—” You try to say, but couldn’t translate what you want to say quick enough. “Donghyuck obviously doesn’t want to be here.”

Over the course of a month living in Seoul, you and Donghyuck had grown closer more than anyone. It would be ridiculous to deny Donghyuck’s seemingly unceasing affection towards you, and in the same manner, it would be a lie if you’d say you’re not enjoying all the attention he’s been giving you. Above the flirty and friendly advances he makes (but never crossing the line), Donghyuck has grown to be a good friend. During the first couple of weeks, you would refer to him as Mark’s friend; it’s safe you say you’re friends with him now.

Donghyuck’s decided to pick you up from the college of Social Sciences, convincing Mark that his building is literally next to yours and that a ten-minute walk to Arcade with you is not going to hurt him—Mark’s been walking with you for many years anyway, he would mumble under his breath, close enough for you to hear but distant enough for you to understand what he truly means. Hence, with the growing friendship you have with him, you wonder what you had done this time.

“It’s not like that,” Donghyuck answers the question you had in mind, both hands raised in defense. You raise an eyebrow. “That.”

Donghyuck points at your lap, Mark’s unnamed cat sleeping soundly now. Oh.

“I’m allergic,” he explains. “I can’t be around one within like a five-meter radius otherwise, I would, like, you know, die.”

“You’re exaggerating,” Mark comments. “Are you really?”

“Yeah,” Donghyuck confirms. “The allergens are getting to me. My throat is starting to close up. I have to leave now.”

This startles you and Mark, the latter quickly taking the calico cat from your lap and quickly taking it to his room. You reckon the cat’s allergens are all over you so you sit as far away as you can from Donghyuck.

“It’s fine,” he assures, but he already looks like he’s choking. “It’s not that serious. They usually just give me allergic rashes and kind of triggers my asthma. So, we’re good.”

“But you have a dog!” you remark. “You never told me you’re allergic to cats!”

He chuckles, “Well, you learn something every day.”

“There are some anti-histamine tablets from the cupboard,” you point out, still seated where you are. “I probably have allergens on my hands; please go get yourself one.”

Donghyuck does what he’s told, taking one and opening the fridge to get himself a bottle of water. You tell him you’re changing your clothes and ask him to wait up, offering to go out and have a meal with him instead.

Mark knocks on your door a couple of minutes later, finding you dressed up, a knowing smile playing on his lips. “Donghyuck said he’d wait outside. You look nice.”

“I know I look nice,” you say as you go back to your vanity to throw whatever you’d need for the day in your small dumpling bag, including a box of Benadryl. “You’re not coming with us because you have cat all over you.”

Mark chuckles, leaning against the doorframe. “Donghyuck literally told me the same thing. He’s growing on you,”

You only hum in response, checking your bag for the last time before walking towards the door where Mark Lee is still leaning on, the same smirk playing on his lips still plastered.

“What?” you ask.

Mark doesn’t say anything, but he raises and shows you his right hand, sticking three fingers up.

먹었습니다 (meog-eossseubnida) - The meal was good.

Seoul National University’s library is as quiet as it can be; it’s almost scary how the only sounds you’d only hear are the faint sounds of pages being flipped and pens gliding on notepads, and the eerie echoes of the tension coming from students who are either cramming on an assignment or jumping from one subject to another in hopes of getting everything they read retained in their head.

Donghyuck used to tell you this is the exact reason why he didn’t like working at the library. It’s too quiet but too loud at the same time. You chuckle at the memory of him telling you anecdotes of his short-lived employment in the library and wonder how different it is being the soccer team’s laundry guy. He’s probably pouting all the way from the beginning of his shift until the end.

“Here,” Jung Sungchan disrupts your thoughts, keeping his voice as quiet as possible. “I found these, maybe it could help bridge the gap we’re struggling on.”

You and Sungchan are paired up for a two-week long assignment for one of your major subjects. The objective was to present a summarized and substantial report on the welfare state, and you think Sungchan must have tripped on all the bad luck in his life to have been paired up with someone who couldn’t speak Korean that well, because, well, the books they had are mostly in Korean. If speaking and understanding Korean is a struggle for you, reading the damn language is hell.

“This is a good thing,” Sungchan assures. “There are resources online that are mostly in English. We can combine everything we find and construct the report from there!”

You nod and hand over the book you’re reading before he arrived, explaining that you found a chapter that could be very helpful. The boy fires up his laptop and starts accessing the website your professor had recommended you to use.

Sat side by side, you and Sungchan study in silence, except for when he asks you to read an article for him and explain what it means. The session lasts for hours, thank God you and him didn’t have classes for the rest of the day, and within those hours of studying with Sungchan, you can’t help but notice the looks you were getting anytime someone passes by the two of you.

It’s no secret that Jung Sungchan is probably one of the most attractive men in the university. He’s tall and has skin that’s as clear as a day in summer, smile that could swoon a lot of people off their feet, broad shoulders that’s probably carrying the entire hockey team for this year’s season—and yes, it doesn’t help the fact that Jung Sungchan is the most popular jock at the moment, apparently for hard carrying the team to win last year’s trophy, ending Seoul National University’s 10-year drought and awakening the school’s love for sports back. And you think it’s quite unfair that people like him exist. Because you would expect that he’s an asshole who doesn’t care about his grades because he’s essentially SNU’s hero at the moment, but he’s not. Jung Sungchan, you learn, takes his degree in Social Sciences very seriously.

And it’s evident with the way his eyebrows are furrowed as he reads the tenth book he found from the shelves.

“I think this part makes more sense now,” he points out, leaning closer so he could show you the article he’s reading. “In residual regimes, welfare-seeking units are primarily family and market. On the other hand, in the institutional welfare regime, the function of providing welfare belongs directly to the state.”

“But countries with different social conditions and lifestyles should have differed in terms of welfare states,” you argue. “We have to consider that the development of industrialization and production growth could be very different from one country to another.”

Sungchan hums. “Good point. Perhaps we can find more of that from Wilensky and Lebaux’s work. Do you have the book over there?”

You nod and hand him the book. Just as Sungchan flips the book open, Mark occupies the seat across you.

“We’ve been calling you,” Mark whispers to you, then turning to look at Sungchan. “Hey, man. Mark. Y/N’s best friend.”

Sungchan gives him a polite nod before going back to the book. You raise an eyebrow at Mark and slip your phone from the pocket of your backpack and find all the missed calls from him, Renjun, and Donghyuck.

“My phone’s been on silent for like, I don’t know, four hours,” you tell him, slipping your phone back to your back. “And I texted you I’d be at the library.”

“Yeah, like four hours ago,” he answers. “I didn’t think you’d really stay here for four hours. Anyway—” Mark pulls out a lunch bag and slides it across the table. “Donghyuck made this for you. He figured you’d be hungry.”

It’s only then that it hit you. The last meal you had was that bagel you had for breakfast on the way to school, which you had seven or eight hours ago.

“My sweet Donghyuckie,” you coo, thankful for his thoughtfulness. “Thanks, Mark. Sungchan and I will share because we’ll be here until we finish at least the structure of the report.”

“It’s getting late though,” Mark points out.

Sungchan clears his throat. “I can drive you home.”

“Great!” Mark exclaims, which earns him multiple shushes from the other students studying. “Sorry. Great!” he says again, in a whisper this time.

Mark bids goodbye to you and offers a handshake to Sungchan, telling him he’ll see him often in the next two weeks or for as long as you and him are paired-up on your major subjects. Sungchan gives him one last assurance you’ll be home safe.

You ask Sungchan to take a break and open the lunch bag. Inside it are two bento boxes full of food, too much for one person, and you don’t take another minute to wait. Sungchan must have been hungry too, because he doesn’t refuse when you offer the other half of your meal to him.

You’re not really sure how much longer you and Sungchan stay in the library, but as soon as you’ve finalized the structure of the report and have agreed on assigned topics, he suggests that you and him go home and meet up again on Friday so you can start assembling the presentation. And as promised, Sungchan drives you home, glad when he realized your apartment is only ten minutes away from his.

It’s already ten in the evening when you reach home. Mark’s probably already sleeping, you think when you don’t see any light peaking from smallest of the small space between his door and the floor. It’s late anyway, and you don’t really have much energy to tell him about your day like you always do. In fact, you don’t even have the energy to shower anymore, and because you don’t like sleeping on your bed with your outside clothes, you opt to sleep on the couch tonight.

The last thing you do is shoot Donghyuck a text message: “The meal was good.”

삼각관계 (sam-gak-kwan-gae) – love triangle

Jung Sungchan invites you watch to one of his preliminary games the day after you completed the report with him. Mark teasingly tells you that you have boys wrapped around your finger not even two months living in Seoul. You deny the claims, of course, because Sungchan is nothing but a good friend and you don’t see him as anything more.

Donghyuck is the first person you think of when Sungchan gives you two spare tickets for the game, and you like to think that it’s only because you don’t want Mark teasing you and accusing you of romance all afternoon, and also because Donghyuck has a car and Mark is a shit navigator so you can’t trust him to commute with you from the university to the indoor arena where the game is being held.

SNU’s team wins, of course, and you proudly cheer for Sungchan, which earns you a side eye from Donghyuck. You shrug it off and pretend that you didn’t see.

“Can we go now?” Donghyuck asks, bored, when people start leaving the arena.

You shake your head. “Sungchan asked me to wait for him after the game.”

“You know that barbecue place I told you we’d go to?” Donghyuck reminds. “We can go there—“

Your phone rings. It’s Sungchan. Donghyuck sighs.

“Congratulations, nerd!” is the first thing you tell him. Sungchan thanks you, laughing from the other end of the call, and apologizes that he can no longer meet you because the team’s been hogging him the second they won the round.

“It’s fine,” you assure. “I’m with Donghyuck, anyway. I’ll see you at school?”

“No, no,” Sungchan answers. “There’s a small celebration party at Shotaro’s house. It’s a twenty to thirty-minute drive from your apartment. I’ll send you the location. Go there.”

Sungchan hangs up, and not even a second later, you receive a text from him, a location pinned on the message. You show the message and pout at Donghyuck, and he’s looking at you all bored, rolling his eyes, before nodding and taking your hand so you and him could leave the arena.

The drive to the place takes about an hour from the arena, and you spend it singing along to Michael Jackson’s songs.

“You have a really nice voice,” you comment. Donghyuck laughs.

“Baby,” he says. “I wouldn’t be pursuing a career in music if I had a shitty voice.”

The nickname gives you a flush, and you could only hope Donghyuck wouldn’t notice.

Almost two months into meeting Lee Donghyuck, you find yourself unable to keep your heartbeat down whenever he does things like this—calling you nicknames, randomly showing up in places where you are just to say hi, holding your hand, texting and calling you every day, spending his weekends and times off with you, and doing simple and domestic things for you—and your heart tells you it’s okay. There’s nothing wrong with a whirlwind romance in Seoul. Donghyuck doesn’t ever hesitate, and the fact that you’re holding back means you really like him. But the rational part of you says it’s not really a good idea to be in a situationship with someone who will most likely forget you as soon as you go back to Canada, and you can’t afford a heartache from miles away. Besides, Donghyuck probably isn’t that serious with whatever that’s going on.

Rumors say (by rumors, you mean Chenle and Jisung) that Donghyuck is the type of guy who dates one girl after another. Because he’s bold and charming and amiable and likes to expand his choices, and he finds that there’s nothing wrong with dating as long as he doesn’t date multiple women at the same time. You haven’t really seen him out on a date since you had met him. Rumor (Chenle) says that he’s been single since fall of last year and had committed to stay single this year because of the messy breakup and also because he’s on his last year of college, he’d need to focus on stepping up his game if he wants entertainment companies to fight over him as soon as he starts looking for agencies after graduation. Another rumor (Jisung) says he’s rejected many women who have tried to sleep with him since news broke that Lee Donghyuck is newly single. The rumor says he’s as popular as Jung Sungchan when it comes to women, which, if you’re being honest, gives you some kind of pedestal to walk hand-in-hand with him in the university grounds. You realize now that you get the same look from women when you’re with Donghyuck like the stares you got whenever you and Sungchan are stuck in the library for hours of studying.

The only difference is that, well, you like that people stare at you with a hint of jealousy whenever you’re with Donghyuck.

“Why haven’t you invited me to your gigs?” you ask before you could even think about it. “Sungchan’s only been friends with me for like three weeks and he already got me tickets to his game. You, on the other hand…”

The car halts to a slow stop, Donghyuck’s phone telling you that you’ve arrived at your location. Donghyuck doesn’t switch off the engine though. He chuckles licking his lips, then poking his tongue on his cheeks, fucking with your heart and hormones in the process. He keeps his hand on the steering wheel and turns to look at you, eyes hazed in attraction like he’s pulling you in.

“Baby,” he says in a whisper almost. “I don’t like love triangles.”

“Love… triangles?” you repeat.

“Love triangles,” he says in English. “I fucking hate it. And we’re not about to go through that trope in our love story here. So, let me make it clear before we go inside and before you even think about sticking to Sungchan all night.”

You gulp.

“There’s no Sungchan in the equation,” he states like a command and you find yourself nodding, agreeing. “It’s only you and me. Tonight, there will be a lot of people and none of them will be in the equation. Tonight, you’re sticking with me and we’ll talk about this tomorrow. Have fun with me and see if you want to take this to another level, because if you ask me, I’ve been dying to fucking kiss you since the semester began.”

This territory is new, and this Donghyuck is new, too. He’s always been affectionate and he’s never held back, but this new level of honesty is astonishing. Damn attractive if you’re being honest.

“Come here,” he says, ridding himself from his seatbelt. You do the same, leaning closer to him. Donghyuck holds your cheeks with both hands, smiling down at you before leaning in to kiss your forehead. “I’m not giving you mixed signals. This is me giving you a clear, direct sign that I like you and I like what we have, but I’d love to take another step. I’ve been thinking about it, and I don’t really want someone to enter the equation while I’m trying to woo you.”

You giggle. “You already successfully wooed the romance out of me the second you started holding my hand, Lee Donghyuck. And no, there won’t be love triangles.”

Donghyuck’s honesty fires up some courage in you, and you like the feeling of watching him falter when you lean in, hand on the back of his neck, and kiss him for the first time. The man melts in your kiss and in your touch, but doesn’t wait for another heartbeat to kiss you back. And despite of the bottled-up and eagerness from both sides, the first kiss is soft the first time, featherlike and sweet. His lips are even softer than they look and his lips already look plump as it is, and when Donghyuck licks your lips and invites himself in, God, he makes sure you taste the sweetness from his mouth and in a minute you’re addicted and you kiss and kiss and kiss, lips locking, tongue gliding, breaths gasping.

It’s him who pulls away, leaving you with dazed eyes wanting, wanting, wanting more.

Donghyuck gives you one last kiss on the forehead. “Let’s go.”

��렇게? (ireoke) – Like this?

You don’t end up seeing Sungchan at all in the party, and you don’t mind because Donghyuck keeps you glued to his side. The party is fun, but you and Donghyuck decide not to drink a single drop of alcohol. To him, it’s because he has to drive. To you, it’s because you want to be entirely sober to remember whatever happens tonight.

Donghyuck makes out with you in the corner of the living room where people are crumpled, and you like that he doesn’t care that people see. He holds you by the waist and on your neck, and you get it now. You get why women are lining up to sleep with Donghyuck, because if he can kiss like this, what else can he do with his mouth?

You shoot a message to Sungchan with a selfie of you and Donghyuck, thanking him for inviting you to the party and telling him you’ll see him on your next class together (Donghyucks suggests you send Sungchan a picture of you and him making out.) and prompt to leave. Donghyuck says goodbye to a few people he knew, holding you by the waist all the way from the house to where his car is parked.

Donghyuck drives you to his apartment and tells you he’s told Mark you’d be sleeping at his place tonight. The drive itself was intense enough and Donghyuck’s doing an amazing job keeping his cool while you’re practically sweating from the passenger’s seat.

You don’t even get a good look at his apartment when you arrive, because Donghyuck’s already kissing you as he rids himself of his jacket. Donghyuck doesn’t kiss you softly this time; he kisses you like he’s leaving a mark on your mouth, almost like he wants to bruise his presence inside you. He helps you get slip out of your jacket, pulling away quickly to kick his shoes off, before carrying you bridal style and bringing you to his room, kicking the door behind.

Despite the roughness of his kisses, he puts you to bed gently, ridding himself of his shirt and kneeling on the floor so he could help you out of your socks. He leans up once he’s done, one hand on your jaw to pull you down for another kiss, the other caressing your thigh.

“Please tell me this is okay,” he whispers. You nod. “I need your words, baby.”

“Yes, Donghyuck,” you answer, breathless when he starts kissing your neck. “This is okay. Please touch me.”

Donghyuck pushes you a little so half of your body is lying on his bed, your feet flat on his carpeted floor, tugging the loops of your jeans, urging you to lift your hips so he can rid you out of the material. He pulls you back up to take your shirt off from your torso, then he’s helping you back up from the edge of the bed towards the headboard as he crawls on top of you.

“Donghyuck,” you gasp when he goes back to kissing you. You realize that Donghyuck like kissing with the way he’s using his mouth to imprint his presence in you, his tongue licking everywhere it can reach inside your mouth, and he tastes like mint and the soda he had at the party, and he’s everything that you want. “Touch me, please.”

“Like this?” Donghyuck reaches down to rub your clit through the material of your underwear. He rubs slow, teasingly, and kisses you on the mouth when you groan. He dips his head lower and kisses your neck; he bites and nips and sucks and you’re sure it’s leaving a mark you’d have to conceal the next day. “Want me to touch you like this, baby?”

A moan elicits from your throat, and Donghyuck doesn’t waste any more time. He slips his warm hand between your skin and your underwear, really touching you, rubbing your clit gently, his digits dragging itself on your slit slowly, gathering your wetness then going back to rub your clit again, more roughly with the pool of wetness his fingers have now.

“Like this?” he asks again, pushing a finger inside when he finds your hole, urging another moan from your lips.

“Oh my God, Donghyuck,” you gasp when he fingers you gently, your wetness making a sound when he adds another finger. Donghyuck takes his time, biting his lips as he watches you writhe underneath his touch.

“Pull your bra down,” he breathes out, and you do. When your breasts are out on the open, Donghyuck doesn’t waste time and locks lips with your nipple, sucking and licking as he fingers the sanity out of you. He alternates from fingering you with two digits and rubbing you using his thumb, and you’re all putty and messy under him, and you want more, more, more, more.

“Baby, please fuck me,” you beg. “Please, Donghyuck. Please fuck me”

Donghyuck hushes you. “I will, baby. I’ll fuck you so well, you’ll come running back to me tomorrow and the day after, and the day after.”

But he doesn’t. He pulls his fingers out, hold you by your jaw so you could lock eyes while he licks the proof of your attraction to him from his fingers, sucking and showing you just how well he could use his tongue. He doesn’t fuck you get but he rids you of the last garments from your body and does the fucking impossible.

Donghyuck eats you out like it’s the last meal he’ll ever have. He swirls his tongue on your clit as he pushes his digits back in your hole, fingering you like it’s all he’s ever wanted, and he’s got you chanting his name like a prayer when his tongue laps your sex, even more when he replaces his fingers with his tongue. You’re writhing and screaming and Donghyuck’s holding your legs apart while he pleasures you with his mouth and hands.

You don’t want to cum yet, but Donghyuck’s so, so good, and it looks like he’s not stopping anytime soon. He tongues you back to your clit and fingers you with three digits, fast and rough.

“Donghyuck, I’m going to—” You see white and stars and you stay still when Donghyuck continues fingering you, moving all three fingers in an upward motion, reaching where you want him the most, mouth sucking your clit as you ride the first orgasm you’ve had in months.

Donghyuck lets you have your moment when it’s done, taking the time to lick the slick wetness from his fingers down to his wrist, kneeling between your legs. You push yourself up so that you’re sitting with your legs wide open, your palms flat on his sheets, head tilted for a kiss. Donghyuck leans over and kisses you again, and you never thought you’d like tasting yourself in his tongue. You guess everything tastes sweeter when it’s in Donghyuck’s mouth.

“Off, please,” you murmur, pulling the loops from his jeans. Donghyuck obeys, removing all pieces of clothing until he’s naked.

You marvel at his beauty, licking your lips when you finally see him bare and clean. His golden skin looks like honey and you want to kiss the fuck out of his collarbones and leave your mark for everyone to see. Your eyes travel from his chest down to the trail from his tummy down to his erect cock. He’s hard and red and you salivate from how big he looks and feel yourself getting even more wet at the thought of him fucking you. Before you know it, you’re reaching out, moving so you could kneel, and taking his hardness in your hand. Donghyuck moans for the first time tonight, and you plan to elicit that sound from him all night.

Stroking him slowly, you feel a rush of satisfaction when Donghyuck pants your name. “Oh my God,” he moans when you bend over, a palm flat on his sheets, your other hand stroking him as you take him to your mouth. He gathers your hair and watches you from above, and you purposely stick your ass up higher when you feel him twitch as you take more of his cock into your mouth. When you’re about halfway, you stroke the rest of what you can’t take and start sucking and licking, and Donghyuck makes the absolute best sound ever. You like his voice when he sings, but you don’t think anything could compare with how he’s whining your name as you suck his dick thoroughly, licking and jerking off whatever your mouth couldn’t fit. A part of you wants to ask Donghyuck to fuck your mouth, bruise your throat with his dick and cum straight down your fucking stomach if he wants to, but that could be arranged next time. This time, with his dick hard and wet from your mouth, you want him to fuck you.

You suck him one last time before you pull away, a string of your saliva following when you look up at Donghyuck. “Now, will you fuck me?”

Donghyuck looks fucked out, eyes dazed with lust, and you want nothing more than for him to ruin you. And Donghyuck doesn’t need to be asked twice.

He crawls back up until you’re lying on your back, legs wide open for him, and kneels between your legs. “Ready and sure?” he asks for the last time, stroking himself.

“Pull out when you cum,” is all you say and Donghyuck goes for it. He gives you a kiss and rests one of his forearms beside your arm, massaging the head of his cock on your opening until he’s stretching you out.

“Fuck,” Donghyuck groans when he feels your tightness. “God damn, Y/N, when was the last time you got fucked?”

“I—I can’t remember,” you say. “None of them were worth remembering.”

“And me?” Donghyuck asks as he pushes deeper until he’s fully stretched you and his pelvis is leaning against your clit. “Will you remember me?”

“Ask me next time,” you breathe out. “I think you’ll have to fuck me every day so I can remember.”

Donghyuck gives you some time, kissing you softly. “When was the last time you fucked anyone?” you ask in return.

“I can’t remember,” he parrots. “None of them were worth remembering. All I know is that this is the first time I’m feeling someone raw.” Then he bottoms out, gives you only half a second before he’s thrusting back and out and back and out and back and out, slowly but surely fucking you well.

Donghyuck fucks you like he means it. His hips snap roughly but makes sure you feel all of him before he thrusts out and he’s everywhere. His tongue is in your mouth, then on your neck, his free hand is caressing one of your breasts, playing with your nipples, and he’s making you feel so, so good and you’re not sure how you go back from here. You’re not sure how you could go on with life knowing how well Donghyuck can fuck you. He’s got you squirming and reaching your second orgasm only minutes into fucking the life out of you.

When you’re close, Donghyuck pushes himself up so that he’s kneeling again, and lifts both your legs, resting your calves on either side of his shoulders, hugging your legs so he can fuck you deeper in this angle. The precision makes you chant his name over and over again and he takes one of his hands down to rub your clit. You try your best to hold back from cumming because the way he’s fucking you now feels so damn good that you want it to last for a long time. He thrusts in and out quickly, his balls hitting the bottom of your ass again and again.

“Come for me, baby,” he says. “Let go.”

So, you do, and Donghyuck keeps on fucking you through it. Donghyuck lets you finish, before he’s pushing the back of your knees down so your thighs are pressed up against your stomach, chasing his own orgasm, and fucks you hard, without rhythm, until he is moaning your name like praise and he’s pulling out so he could release on your stomach. You reach up to caress his cheek as you watch him in awe as he finishes, his face contorted in pleasure, lips wet and eyes closed.

When it’s done, Donghyuck kisses you on the forehead and helps you clean up. He leaves to go to the bathroom for a minute to grab a warm, wet towel, cleaning your stomach, and carries you back to the bathroom with him. The shower is warm, and Donghyuck is gentle and sweet when he cleans you up, giving you kisses when he pats you dry once he’s gotten rid of the shampoo and body wash from your hair and skin. Donghyuck tells you there’s a spare toothbrush on behind the mirror and washes himself as you brush your teeth, naked but warm.

Donghyuck tells you to that the right side of his closet is where you can find the clothes he uses at home and you follow as he finishes cleaning himself up. You take the liberty to take one of his shirts that are still too big for you despite Donghyuck’s frame and slip a pair of cotton shorts.

Donghyuck finds you half-asleep when he’s done showering; he sleeps shirtless, you reckon, because he crawls to bed only in sweatpants. He cuddles you from behind, kissing the clothed shoulder, and the last thing you hear before you drift off to sleep is him humming a song your mind can’t recognize and a promise that you’ll talk about this the next day.

You wake up to the smell of Spam, an empty space beside yours, and the sound of Donghyuck singing a song from BOL4, which you learned is one of his favorite musicians.

Donghyuck smiles warmly at you when you find him in the kitchen, just about to finish pan-frying the last piece of sliced luncheon meat. He’s still shirtless, but is wearing a cute pink apron, and he gives you a quick kiss on the lips like it’s the most natural thing ever. The second his lips pull away from yours, you reach up and touch where he kissed, lips tingling—in disbelief that what happened last night is real.

“Good morning,” he hums. “Just in time for breakfast.”

“Donghyuck,” you trail off. “Can we talk first?”

Donghyuck nods, offering that you sit on the high stool across the small kitchen island. He sits next to you, turning the seat so that you’re face to face, knees touching. “What do we want to do?” he asks.

“You know I’m leaving in like, four months, right?” you start.

Donghyuck whistles. “We just started and you’re already breaking up with me?”

“No, no,” you say, exhaling. “This… this. I like. You. I like.”

“Baby, construct your sentences properly,” he laughs.

“I like you,” you confess. “And I like this. I like holding your hands. And kissing you. And what we did last night. I’m just worried because—”

“Because you’re leaving,” he finishes for you. “I know, but I also like you a lot. More than you probably think. And I don’t want to miss my chance getting to know you more just because you’re leaving in a few months. I don’t know what you want, but here’s what I want, you let me know if it works for you, if not, then I’ll still be a friend. Who might cry for two weeks straight if you reject me.”

You laugh but urge him to continue.

“I want to date you, and get to know you even more. Your quirks, the things that make you angry, your comfort food, the movies that give you the ick,” he continues. “Your family, how you were raised, if you like Marvel or DC more, what Hogwarts house you belong to, if you like pineapple in pizza or not, whether you pour milk or cereal first, if you ever kissed Mark Lee, if Mark Lee’s ever had a crush on you.”

“What does Mark have—”

“Shh,” he stops. “It’s my turn. Talk later. Anyway, I want this—” he gestures the space between you and him. “And I want you. I want to keep teaching you the language and I know what’s ahead of us is scary, and there’s only two things that could happen: this is going to be either the biggest heartbreak of my life or you’re going to be the greatest love of my life. It’s a fifty-fifty chance, Y/N. Let’s just say I’m willing to risk whatever if it means I have 50% the chances of having you as the greatest love of my life.”

Oh. You don’t realize you’re staring quietly until Donghyuck holds your hand.

“Now tell me,” he asks slowly. “What do you want?”

You don’t hesitate. “I want you, Lee Donghyuck.”

일어날 수 있는 최악의 상황은 무엇입니까? il-eonal su issneun choeag-ui sanghwang-eun mueos-ibnikka? What’s the worst that could happen?

It doesn’t come out as a surprise to anyone when you and Donghyuck arrive at Arcade holding hands, a shy smile playing on your lips, a proud one in Donghyuck’s. You were thankful that there were no teasing remarks coming from your friends—that they were taking this so well, like it’s normal. Like it’s meant to happen anyway. There’s a knowing smirk on Mark’s stupid face, but you love him and you can’t wait to tell him all about how you feel towards Donghyuck. “Okay, so my birthday falls on a weekend,” Jeno announces. “And I think it’s the best time to go to the amusement park. Will you have work then, Renjun-ah?”

“Most likely,” Renjun answers, mouth full of food as he chews on a bite of pizza. “But I can have Yerim cover for me. I’ll just return the favor if she needs me one day.”

“Sweet!” Jeno exclaims. “So, it’s decided then. We’ll go to the amusement park on my birthday.”

As you and Donghyuck play footsie under the table, Mark stands, turning to you. “I’m going to get another milkshake. Come with me?”

You nod, kicking Donghyuck one last time and standing to follow your best friend. Somehow, you feel bad for not saying anything about your growing feelings for Donghyuck, considering that Mark is your best friend in the entire universe and you’re his. If it were him, he would’ve told you the second he caught feelings to anyone. But Mark knows you’re not the kind to admit feelings like this as soon as it starts inflating in your chest; he knows you’re the type to hold it in until you can’t anymore. Having had terrible relationships in the past, Mark has always known that you’re the kind to be careful.

“I didn’t think you’d actually go for it,” Mark says as soon as you and him are out of earshot. “Don’t get me wrong. I’m happy for you. I just didn’t expect this to happen so quickly.”

“Me neither,” you mumble under your breath. “Sorry for not saying anything.”

Mark chuckles. “You didn’t have to. I mean, we all kinda always known this would happen. I just couldn’t imagine how you and Donghyuck sealed it so quickly, like considering how shy and quiet you always were whenever he was around.”

“I was shy and quiet with everyone around,” you remark. “Donghyuck taught me all these slangs and now I can’t stop talking.”

The woman in the counter asks you what she can help you with when you reach her. Mark tells his order alongside some sides Renjun had asked him to get. He leans on the counter, turning back to you. “Anyway.”

“Yeah?”

“I think you’re serious serious.” Mark clears his throat. “Like, I’ve known you for so long and you’ve always been hesitant to do shit. I’ve always been the spontaneous and reckless one between us, and you’re the careful one. The one who thinks everything through before deciding on it—this trip to Seoul included on the long list.”

“Your point is?” you ask, even though you know exactly where this is going.

Mark licks his lips before continuing: “What I’m saying is, you’ve never been this certain so quickly.”

That’s right. Not to be cliché or whatever, but this is normally how it goes for you. Relationships used to be difficult for you—from the pining to the confession to its climax to its end, until the bargaining and acceptance—and you’d never been the type to go through things so quickly and easily. With Donghyuck, you’d somehow done it backwards (and Mark doesn’t need to know that you slept with Donghyuck before you even sealed the damn relationship) but for some reason, you had forgotten how you’re supposed to act around people you like romantically. It scares the shit out of you, the connection between you and Donghyuck, but you’ve always been a firm believer that if it doesn’t scare you, it probably isn’t something worth doing. It feels like jumping from a cliff, to the bottom of the unknown, and it’s new, but it makes your heart pound like never before.

“I don’t want to get ahead and say something that’d make you change your mind somehow, because I also like you and Donghyuck together,” he explains when you only stare at him. “But, as your best friend, with the best intentions only, please don’t go breaking your heart before we leave, yeah?”

You nod, understanding and appreciating Mark’s sentiment. “What’s the worst that could happen?”

Mark shrugs. “We won’t really know. Take care, yeah?”

You smile stepping closer to hug Mark. “I love you, you know that, right?” he asks. You nod, your face buried on his chest. “Good. I’ll beat Donghyuck’s ass if he hurts you in anyway.”

“I sure hope you do,” you reply, just in time for the staff to call Mark’s attention, the tray of his order ready for him.

Donghyuck is pouting when you return, asking why you and Mark took too long because the seat beside him is all cold now. You kiss him on the cheek and tell him Mark just told you he’s beating his ass if you’re hurt in anyway.

“Mark can’t hurt a fly,” Donghyuck remarks. “What makes you think he can hurt me, huh?”

Mark scoffs. “You’ll be the first.”

계절과 계절 사이 (gyejeolgwa gyejeol sai) – between seasons

When the seasons start to change—from the rainy, cold spring transition to a warm, sunny summer—you and Donghyuck change, too.

From the euphoric blooming of your relationship—the playful dates, the passionate moments in his bedroom (because ever since Mark adopted that cat, Donghyuck could never stay at your place for longer than an hour), the heart-warming feeling of seeing him waiting for your after your class—to the warm, comfortable attachment stage, you feel like you know Donghyuck in a deeper sense now.

The small notebook he’d given you at the beginning of the term is halfway full, its pages messily scribbled with phrase and sentences you had learned—likewise the memories those words carry—and soon enough you find yourself more comfortable with the language, and eventually with Seoul. You find yourself enjoying, and not in a way that makes you think you’d want to visit again soon.

The journey with Seoul was initially a play to learn the language and its beautiful culture: a detour. A diversion from your plans. A stop while you figure out what you want in life. Your last year in university is supposed to be the year you finally decide what to do next. Visiting Seoul was an opportunity for you to really get to know yourself beyond your comfort zone, to really challenge your capabilities, to learn beyond what your hometown had in store for you.

But these days do not feel like Seoul is a place to visit.

In a way, liberating albeit frightening, you find yourself thinking that perhaps Seoul is a place to build a home in. The home is built from arms that hold you on days when it’s extra cold, your nose red and hands frozen, and its shelter is made from Donghyuck’s warm smile and the assurance of him being there for you. And right now, while you sit closely together at the back of your friend’s car, their obnoxiously loud voices singing to some pop song along the radio, you feel it: home.

Jeno likes the phone case you had customized for him, and he gives you a big, bear hug as soon as he take a peek of what’s inside your present.

“I love you. I literally love you with all my being,” he dramatically says as he squishes you.

“That’s my girlfriend, you idiot,” Donghyuck complains, pulling Jeno’s arms away from you. With the way you three are seated at the back of Renjun’s car, you sitting in between them, it’s uncomfortable and Donghyuck insists on taking part of the little moment you’re having with Jeno.

Jeno whines, “Let me love her. This is the best gift ever!”

Donghyuck ends up puffing air out of his mouth, pouting and leaning back so Jeno could hug you. You’re laughing and Jeno whispers how easily they could make him sulk these days because you’re around.

Mark, who’s sitting on the passenger seat beside Renjun, announces you’ve arrived at the amusement park, just as Jaemin’s car halts to a slow stop behind you.

It’s the first time you’ve ever visited the famous amusement park in Seoul, and Mark looks excited with the way he’s jumping as you line up for the tickets. Donghyuck has his arm around you, taking pictures with his other hand. The rest are chattering, talking about the rides they’d love to try.

The secretly group decides to stick together for the entire day to celebrate Jeno’s day, despite the birthday boy himself telling everyone they can go wherever they want to. You could see how much they really care about one another and they all just hide it in their mean, vile jokes. For example, the man who has his arm wrapped around you likes teasing Jeno like it’s his full-time job, but is hiding a birthday present inside the trunk of Renjun’s car (and would most likely give it before you all head home, act like his best friend’s birthday isn’t that much of a big deal).

Most of the day is spent following Jeno around, whatever ride he wanted to try and your ears ringing because of how loud Donghyuck is screaming. The temperature has gone from freezing cold to warm, the humidity making it a little harder for everybody to move around under the warmth of the sun.

“I never realized how much of a scaredy cat you are, Donghyuckie,” you tease as soon as you walk out of the roller coaster ride. “Not much of a tough guy now, huh?”

Donghyuck whines, “I liked you better when the words you spoke were only yes and no.”

Mark laughs, slapping Donghyuck on the back. “Oh man, that was really good.”

“Yeah?” You rebut. “And I liked you better when you weren’t screaming like a kid.”

Donghyuck smirks, “And I like you better when you’re screaming my name.”

Renjun and Jisung cough in disgust, and Mark just straight up slapped the back of Donghyuck’s head. “You two are disgusting. I can’t believe I live with you, Y/N.”

Donghyuck laughs, turning to you. “It’s pretty hot. Want me to go grab you a can of soda? Ice cold water?”

“Water, please,” you say. Donghyuck nods and gives you a quick kiss on the cheek before pulling Chenle with him and walking to the opposite side where a small shop is. In the meantime, the rest of you occupy the benches under a shade, Jeno asking which ride to go next.

Donghyuck and Chenle return in a matter of time, bottles of drinks in their hands. They give everyone their preferred drinks, Donghyuck sitting beside Mark and extending an arm so he could hand you your drink from his side.

“Fucking summer,” Donghyuck curses. “I hate summer.”

Renjun raises an eyebrow. “Suddenly?”

“It’s not even summer yet,” Jaemin points out. “What happened to you? You’ve always been so excited about summer.”

“It’s so hot. I can’t stand this fucking temperature,” Donghyuck mumbles.

Renjun scoffs. “You start planning our summer getaway as early as March.”

“It’s already April and you have nothing yet,” Jisung points out.

“Yeah, what the hell, man. I hate your ridiculous ideas, but we can’t survive summer without you,” Jeno adds, then looks at Mark. “Yo, Mark, what about you? What are you doing this summer?”

You and Mark freeze, looking at each other for a second, before the latter speaks for you both: “We’re, uh, we’re supposed to go home.”

It seems like Jeno didn’t know the weight of his question because he apologizes as soon as he realizes it. The group falls into silence, no one says anything, or perhaps nobody could think of anything to say, not even you or Mark.

With your days in Seoul numbered, you realize now that you haven’t really talked about it—not you and Mark, not you and Donghyuck—and it never really felt real. You had always told yourself you’ll cross the bridge when you get there, and the bridge is nearby.

Donghyuck clears his throat. “The sun’s going to kill me. I think I saw a burger joint that has an air-conditioning system down the corner of that street. Shall we go there?”

Everybody agrees and stand to leave. Donghyuck holds your hand, pulling you close and steals a kiss on your cheek. The gesture makes your heart flutter. Donghyuck is warm, but not in the way the sun is hot right now—in a way that gets you thinking: can this warmth reach Vancouver?

Your skin hurts when the sunlight hits you. You hate summer.

 오해 하지마 (ohae hajima) – Don’t misunderstand

Donghyuck had a face that looked like what an artist would draw in a whim—spontaneously—like it was done in a rush, like a portrait from a park done by a street artist, something done with a pencil. Ink stains are harder to wash off, and anyway, figments aren’t mean to last—and he’s almost unrecognizable in this light.

You can’t recognize him on the night of his birthday.

His Mother had gone above and beyond and invited all of their closest relatives and family friends for his 23rd birthday, and it’s also your first time meeting them.

It’s nerve-wracking to say the least, but his Mother smiles at you kindly when she greets you from the entrance of the restaurant they rented for the evening. You could tell his family was wealthy, and it makes sense because Donghyuck got the most bare minimum job he could find, and it’s most likely because he doesn’t need to get one; he probably only got one so he could talk about work, too, just like the rest of his friends.

The birthday party is a surprise and it was Renjun who connected with everyone to make sure they attend here tonight. You had to make up some excuse to Donghyuck when he asked why you can’t join him for dinner with his family tonight and had promised to make it up to him the day after.

You’re sat in the same table as Mark, Renjun, Jeno, and Jaemin, a bit far away from Donghyuck’s family’s table, as you wait for the birthday boy, your present sitting on top of the round table. Mark talks about his cat, letting Jaemin watch snippets of his pet from his phone, and Renjun is narrating a story about his “ridiculous and absurd encounter with Liu Yangyang (and you and Jeno can’t pass up the opportunity to tease him about it).

Then, someone comes sit beside Jaemin, the boys gasping when they see her.

Karina is beautiful, and even saying that isn’t enough to describe the woman’s beauty. Soft-spoken and brilliant, Karina naturally allows everyone to gravitate towards her. All, including yourself, are pulled like magnet when she arrived. Jeno introduces you and you allow yourself to throw a quick and inaudible “hello” when she reaches over and asks you how you are.

Donghyuck’s Mother almost screams when she sees Karina, excitement filling up the air as she hugs her and thanks her for attending.

“I wouldn’t miss Hyuckie’s birthday for the world, eommoni,” Karina answers, and before you could ask Renjun how she’s related to Donghyuck, Jisung, who’s seated in another table with Donghyuck’s younger siblings, announces that the birthday man himself has arrived.

Donghyuck enters the hall, surprised and happy when he sees everyone, a dramatic cry leaving his lips as everyone greets him happy birthday. He feigns complaint, whining that he’s no longer eight years old, but hugs his parents anyway.

His parents thank everyone for joining a precious day and celebrating their eldest son’s birthday with them. Donghyuck bows and starts to go around to thank people.

You don’t recognize Donghyuck when he finally reaches your table and he gives you small smile, hugging you quickly before moving on to the next person. You don’t recognize Donghyuck when he goes to Karina, lifting her as he hugs her tightly, and thanking her for being able to come. You don’t recognize Donghyuck when his Mother joins the little reunion and he laughs when his Mother jokes about them missing each other too much.

“She’s the one who left me all alone here in Seoul,” Donghyuck pouts. “We wouldn’t have missed each other this much if you had stayed!”

“Don’t be such a drama queen, Hyuckie,” Karina says, rolling her eyes. “You visited me in Tokyo literally six months ago.”

Six months ago, which means, it was right before you arrived in Seoul.

You want to be anywhere else but here, and you don’t want to listen any further, but the scenario runs like a comedy show and the punch line is you.

“You two better decide whatever the hell you want to do with your lives by the end of the year,” Donghyuck’s Mother comments. “I mean, no one’s stopping you from moving to Tokyo, Donghyuck. You and Karina can rekindle whatever light was burnt last year. I’m glad you stayed best of friends despite the long distance. You’ve always made a great couple.”

Your breath hitches like your lungs had just been punch. Donghyuck, it seems, finally remembers you’re watching this unfold. Mark holds you, and bless him because your legs feel like they’re about to give up. You and Donghyuck make eye contact, but you don’t recognize him at all.

“Eomma,” Donghyuck clears his throat. Everything else he’s said come out like a blur, and Mark is just holding you close.

“Don’t misunderstand,” Renjun whispers closely. “They’re just friends.”

You don’t recognize Donghyuck when he watches you leave.

천천히 말씀해 주세요 (chun-chun-hee mal-sseum-heh ju-seh-yo)  - Please speak slowly | 집 (jib) - home

Karina turns out to be the one that got away. The one true love. The greatest love. The childhood best friend who’s always been there. The leading woman. She turns out to be the protagonist in Donghyuck’s story.

You learn all of these from Renjun. Even when he refused to say a single word and had begged for you to talk to Donghyuck instead, you learn the truth by asking Mark to ask Renjun.

Donghyuck and Karina. Karina and Donghyuck. Two peas in a pod. A tight knit. Knowing each other like the back of their hands. A buy one, get one kind of deal. Where one is, the other would follow. And everyone and their moms know that it has always been like that, will always be like that.

Donghyuck and Karina, born on the same year, grew up in the same small village in Jeju island. Having been inseparable since, they ended up moving to Seoul together in high school. Donghyuck’s parents were supportive of Donghyuck pursuing a career in music, and they believed that moving to Seoul was the first step for their beloved son to find his spotlight. Karina’s parents, however, couldn’t afford moving alongside the Lee family despite wanting to support their daughter, too. Donghyuck begged his parents to have Karina move in with them so her parents would only worry about paying her tuition and allowances. The Lee family agreed, of course, because Donghyuck and Karina were fifteen, and they were the best team the world has ever known.

Karina is a talented dancer, and with a face like hers, it would be a shame to keep her in a small town in Jeju island. Her moving to Seoul had been the first step to her early success, because as soon as she reached puberty and had gained a butt and a pair of breasts, agencies were scouting her, creepily waiting for her outside of hers and Donghyuck’s high school. She’d declined, of course, with a promise to Donghyuck that they’d go to stardom together, but Donghyuck wanted to study and make music, and he felt as though he needed to go to college for that.

Karina eventually moved to another dormitory when she started training. Donghyuck moved downtown to start college. They were in different places, but they were still inseparable.

Pretty much every day Donghyuck would meet up with Karina when she started training; if not, then he’d be on Facetime with her during the hours when she’s not working. He had brought her to SNU many times, and they had started dating by the time Donghyuck is in his second year. All the other guys know Karina and her place in Donghyuck’s life. Somehow, a bitter part of you feels betrayed that none of them ever mentioned about Donghyuck’s great love, but you can’t really blame them for not saying anything.

They broke up on the latter months of last year because Karina had to move to Tokyo. There was no big fight apparently, just the decision that it’s most likely not going to work because—listen to this; this is the biggest punch line of this comedy show—Donghyuck can’t handle long distance.

You had answered one of Donghyuck’s calls by mistake. He’s mad for some reason, perhaps angry of the fact that you’re ignoring him and he doesn’t have much control like he normally does.

“Y/N, for fuck’s sake, why haven’t you answered?” he had cried out as soon as you answered.

“I was busy,” was all you could come up with. You brain had not been working good enough to translate things to Korean.

“What do you mean you were busy?” he had asked, voice loud and angry. “You literally disappeared on me! On my fucking birthday! And I’m done playing nice and cool because this is unfair. Whatever the fuck you’re doing is unfair you’re not letting me in. If you could just let me explain, things—”

“Please speak slowly.”

“—would be easier for the two of us. Whatever Karina and I had, it’s been over since last year. It’s over way before I met you. I never thought of her, not even for a goddamn second since we got together. I wouldn’t fucking betray you like that—”

“I can’t understand you.”

“—and I can’t believe you don’t trust me enough to let me at least tell you what happened! I never mentioned her because I never even thought about her! My Mother doesn’t know anything! I’ve wanted you to meet my Mother for a long time, but given our situation, a fucking time bomb ticking, I didn’t know if it was too early to go to that stage.”

“Time bomb?” you had asked, repeating the syllables slowly. “What’s that?”

Donghyuck sighed on the other line. “The thing that explodes at a predetermined time.”

“Oh, a time bomb,” you asked in English, chuckling. “That, we are.”

“Huh?”

“We’re a fucking time bomb,” you said, again in English, because if Donghyuck could keep talking in his mother tongue without considering if you’d understand a single word, so could you. “We’re ticking and we’re just waiting for this shit to explode. And I can’t wait and watch myself burn, Donghyuck. I can’t.”

“Please speak slowly,” he pleaded in Korean. You don’t.

“This isn’t going to work,” you responded, still in your mother tongue. “Maybe this is a clear sign for us, Donghyuck. Goodbye.”

Mark finds you crying on floor of your living, your back leaning on the feet of the couch, two weeks after Donghyuck’s birthday.

The first week, you had convinced your friends you were fine and that you just needed time. Donghyuck’s been reaching out to everybody, and Mark, being the best friend he is, lies regarding your whereabouts every time Donghyuck visits.

You don’t know how many calls Donghyuck had tried to make and how many text messages he’d left because you had completely abandoned your phone for the last couple of weeks and only relied on your computer to check any e-mails from your professors.

“I’m sorry,” Mark says, and you feel a rush of relief when he talks to you in English. You’ve had enough of Korean and Korean men these days. “It sucks, man. I don’t even know what to say. I’m so fucking disappointed with Donghyuck.”

“Shouldn’t you be more disappointed with me?” you sniffle. “I should have listened to you. We were moving too fast.”

Mark shakes his head, pulling you closer so that your head is resting on his shoulder. “I couldn’t blame you. Donghyuck’s charming, and I genuinely thought he was in love with you. I mean, I could say is, because I really think he’s sorry about everything.”

“We didn’t even get to properly break up,” you cry. “Our flight back home is in like, two weeks. I was supposed to talk to him and decide what we’d do with our relationship. For his birthday, I made a stupid mixtape that he could keep in his car and a very expensive and fucking cheesy set of touch lamps I found online for whenever he would miss me. And I keep making stupid letters like a fucking idiot so I could leave him with a bunch of poorly constructed letters just so he knows how much I’ll fucking miss him.”

Mark stays silent as you sob your heart out.

“And can you believe I actually thought it’d work?” you say, exasperated. “I’m so fucking sorry to myself. I’m just glad it’s over before I did shit I’d regret later on.””

“Shit like?” Mark asks.

You sigh, sniffling and screaming internally because the tears would stop. “I was already looking into internships here. For my last semester in college. I had already decided to decline the internship they were offering back home—thank God I haven’t sent that e-mail from my drafts—and I’ve found really good companies here. And if I’m lucky, I was thinking of moving here after college.”

Mark clicks his tongue. “All because of Donghyuck?”

“Because he feels like home, Mark,” you reason out. “He’s warm, and I can’t believe I’m admitting this now, but I love him. I love him so fucking much.”

“Oh, Y/N.”

“And we would have been happy. I would’ve done everything I could,” you confess. “And this fucking language barrier will be the death of me, but I would’ve learned more. I’d be an expert by the end of the year. And now, this whole Karina thing made me realize how much more I need to know about him.”

Mark holds you closer as though holding you would make things better. “When we were kids,” he starts. “Whenever I told you stories about how much I miss all the people I had to leave behind whenever we had to move from one country to another, one state to another, you’d always tell me to never build houses out of people.”

You remember. You always admired how Mark could move from one place to another, his suitcase and the ghost of the friendships he made following his trail, and he’s always told you about the loneliness it comes with.

“You used to tell me shelters aren’t supposed to be made of arms wrapped around you on a cold night, or hands that hold you when you’re feeling lonely,” he continues. “And I can’t blame you, because humans are known not to follow their own advice. But I hope you find home in things you’d never lose.”

You nod. “I’m sorry for breaking rule number three.”

“You’ll get over him,” he assures. “If you decide to really end things here, I mean. I’m sure you can get over him. It’s easier to get over people when you don’t see him.”

You nod, “Let’s go home, Mark.”

“Back home?”

You smile. “Yes. Back home.”

갈망 (galmang) - longing

It’s Giselle who picks you up from the airport.

You reunite like old friends, but Giselle really didn’t change that much. Even the weather didn’t change much. The same old. You wish you could say the same to yourself.

The flight to Vancouver was the most painful ten hours of your life, both literally and figuratively. It was hard watching your friends bid you goodbye, and you could tell they were dreading your departure as much as you and Mark were. Mark assures them you and him would save up to visit them again this year and as much as you’d wanted to stay, your student visa would allow you only six months. Mark promises he’d work on a tourist visa or whatever because despite being 100% ethnically Korean, but legally, he can’t just visit whenever he wants.

The pain from your breakup with Donghyuck is nothing compared to seeing Mark leave his friends again. You know how much they mean to him, and by extension, how much they mean to you regardless of what happened before your departure.

The head of student exchange program sends you warm greetings through text, followed by a series of messages from your friends and family. You’re glad Giselle had decided to pick you up from the airport, because you don’t think you’re in a good state to pretend like you’re okay, and Giselle knows.

Of course, she knows.

Giselle’s been your anchor during your last weeks in Seoul. Mark reckons that if anyone would understand you best during this time, it would be Giselle. After all, she’d gone through the same thing.

Like Mark, Giselle moved to Seoul with her parents for a few years. She had a similar experience with Mark, considering that her parents are constantly moving around—from Japan to South Korea then to Vancouver. Giselle was only in Seoul for two years before her parents moved back to Vancouver again, and in between those years she had met Kevin Moon, the love of her life.

They have been dating for almost four years now, two of those years, they dated long distance.

“How’d you make it work?” you had asked Giselle over Facetime once.

“It wasn’t perfect,” she admitted. “We broke up a couple of time because it was really difficult. And neither of us were willing to move for each other. I mean, don’t get me wrong, Kevin and I, we love each other. Truly we do. But I wouldn’t want to plant my entire life in Seoul for him. In the same manner, I don’t want him to move from Seoul to Vancouver for me when we both know for a fact that he’d be more successful in Korea than here. I guess, I don’t know, I don’t have an advice I could give you.”

“I’m not asking for advice,” you denied. “I mean. Donghyuck and I have only been dating for like, two weeks. I wouldn’t think that far at this time.”

Giselle had laughed at the other end of the line. “Let me tell you one thing, though.”

“Mhm.”

“It’s all a matter of choice,” she had said slowly, like she wanted to imprint the words to your brain. “Your heart isn’t made of diamonds. Your lungs aren’t made of steel. Somehow, inevitably, you’d grow tired—tired of timezones and how you never get the timing right, tired of not having someone to hug when you need it, tired of having to compromise—and it’s not an easy game.”

Giselle was smiling when she’d said the rest: “But Kevin is so worth it. I’ll grow tired of the baggage long distance comes with, but I don’t think I could live without him, you know? And it’s exaggerated, I know, and neither of us know what the future holds, but we’re choosing us. We chose to stay.”

It would have been beautiful, you think, if things worked out between you and Donghyuck. You would have written poems and prose in places about how you chose to stay. You would have learned about time zones and the best time to call, could have learned how to purchase the cheapest flight tickets to see each other, would have learned love and compromise together.

But you’re here, back in Vancouver, the voices of Mark and Giselle all blurred out from the backseat, and all you could think of is how much you miss Donghyuck.

예기치 않은 (yegichi anh-eun) - unexpected

The head of the student exchange program asks you to write an article about your experience in Seoul and gives you until the fall semester begins, just in time for the university’s own publishing house to produce this year’s school paper. You’re stuck at two hundred words and a stupid title Mark came up with: “Learning Languages”—and you’re thinking about withdrawing from that spot in the newspaper but Mark keeps calling you a heartbroken loser and you’re not about to let Mark Lee get the last word.

You’re eating cereal and watching an episode of Suits to prepare to write again (yes, a 30-minute preparation time is needed for such task) when someone knocks at your door.

You know how, in movies, the main character would see things in slow motion as soon as the love of their life enters the scene? That’s exactly what happens when you open the door and find Lee Donghyuck standing outside your dorm room, a too-large for his body backpack on one shoulder and his heart upon his sleeve.

미안해 (mianhae) – I’m sorry | 사랑해 (saranghae) – I love you

“I’m sorry,” are the first words that Lee Donghyuck comes up with, and truthfully are the words you needed to hear from him. He says it in his mother tongue and you feel his heart in his voice.

“Mark?” you ask, knowing full well it’s Mark who helped him.

“Yes but no,” he answers. “He said he’d only give me your address but he’s not picking me up or helping me. My flight landed literally six hours ago and I’ve been looking for you since.”

Donghyuck sits across you on the small table you own inside your small room. His backpack is sitting on his feet and his shoulders are slumped. Donghyuck allows himself to look small compared to all the times you were with him.

“Y-you look good,” he comments, eyes glued on you. “I’m glad you’re healthy, at least.”

“You, too,” you mumble. “Tea? Coffee?”

“Water would be fine, please and thank you.” You reach over to hand him a bottle. “And who are you kidding? I look awful.”

He does. He looks exactly what he said he had done to get here. Look for you for six hours after a ten-hour flight from Incheon. Donghyuck downs the bottle of water. Poor guy probably hasn’t eaten.

“Why are you here, Donghyuck?” you ask as soon as he’s done drinking.

Donghyuck clears his throat. “I don’t really know what I want out of this trip.”

You keep your arms crossed over your chest.

“And I’m not about to beg you to take me back,” he continues. “I just wanted to explain. I just want you to know what happened. I can live without you, but I can’t live with you thinking I had betrayed you.”

“Donghyuck, there’s really no need to explain. Renjun has told Mark all I needed to know.”

“No, let me say it please. I spent a fortune to come here, and I’m going to make you listen if it’s the last thing I’d do. After this, I’ll leave. I have a ticket back home tomorrow, and I’ll leave.”

Ridiculous. Who would spend a fortune on a set of roundtrip tickets only to leave a day after? Of course, only Lee Donghyuck.

“Karina and I go way back,” he says. “We’ve known each other since we were kids. And she’s not someone I could just get rid of just because our relationship didn’t work out. We’re better off as friends, and that’s a fact we had come to learn when we tried dating. And it was painful, but I couldn’t lose her just because we didn’t know how to date, how to play boyfriend and girlfriend to each other. That’s the first thing I need you to understand.”

“Like I don’t know that already?” you remark sarcastically.

“Karina is a part of me.” Shit’s painful.

“But now like how you are a part of me.”

Oh.

“She’s my best friend, almost like a sister now, and my parents care about her,” he continues. “It was a mistake that we even tried to date just so we could relate to everyone dating everybody. It almost ruined us, and Karina and I, we can’t afford to lose each other just because of that. The person who I am now, part of it is because of Karina. But Y/N, the person I’m about to become, I want it to be because of you.”

He clears his throat again. You look at the bottle of water he finished drinking because you really can’t look at Donghyuck now. Not when he’s vulnerable and out in the open. Not when he’s exactly the way he was when you fell in love with him.

“And I had plans. For the long run,” he says like a promise. “I had started looking up how to get a tourist visa to Canada and how to get you a tourist visa to Korea. I’ve been saving all my allowances and the money I’ve been earning from work so I could book a ticket to Vancouver for the summer and spend it with you. And I was supposed to tell Mom, but I haven’t had the chance yet—that one I have no excuse for. But the timing was off and she met you before I could tell her. She had no idea and she’s genuinely sorry she made it seem like she wanted me to end up with Karina. If she had known I was already in love with someone else, she wouldn’t have said that in front of you. She would have loved you.”

Donghyuck pauses. You look up to see him wiping his tears from his cheeks. “And I’m sorry that the timing didn’t go well for us, but I promise you I had plans. I just didn’t want to spend the rest of your weeks in Seoul thinking about you being gone as soon as the semester is over. I wanted to seize the moments with you and make you—I wanted to make you feel that I love you.”

Your breath hitches. Donghyuck locks eyes with you.

“I love you. I love you and I’m so sorry that I made you feel like I didn’t,” he confesses, bursting into tears and you do, too. “I’m so sorry that I didn’t try hard enough to make you stay. I’m so sorry that I talked to fast that time I finally got you to answer my call; I should’ve explained more calmly. I’m so sorry that we’re here, in Vancouver, hearts broken. But I love you, and I wish I could say all of these in English if that’s what would make you believe it’s real and it’s true.”

But he doesn’t have to.

“I love you,” you say in your mother tongue before switching to Korean. “I love you. And I know you love me. And I’m so sorry for jumping to conclusions and not trying hard enough. Just like you, I had plans to. For the long run. And I can live without you, too, but I can’t live without you knowing how much I love you.”

Donghyuck giggles through his tears and reaches out both hands to wipe off yours. “Let’s not live without each other.”

It’s him to moves, standing a little, so he could kiss you.

The kiss says everything the language barrier can’t. I love you. I missed you. I’m sorry. This is everything I’ve ever wanted. You are everything I’ve ever wanted.

Donghyuck spends the night tracing your body with his mouth like he’s writing a love song and he needs to taste you first before he could write the first melody. You spend the night underneath Donghyuck’s love, whispering his name like praise, taking, taking, taking everything he’s giving you.

You wake up to arms around you and the love of your life kissing the back of your neck. You and him spend the entire day (or at least, the seven hours he had until he had to take the flight back home) talking about your plans and making a list of thing you have to talk about over the phone, but today, you’re taking him out on a date under the warm, sunny skies of Vancouver.

And you do. You and Donghyuck have the best day ever together. Donghyuck gives you the other pair of the touch lamp you’d given to him as a birthday present—you’d forgotten you left it when you ran off; you were supposed to watch him open it so you could show him how it works—and makes you promise to touch the lamp whenever you missed him. He thanks you for the mixtape and confesses he cries whenever he plays it inside his car. He also gives you your small notebook of learning languages back (because you had dramatically left it to Renjun before you boarded the plane), saying you’d need it again.

Mark refused to come because he wants you and Donghyuck to talk and spend the day creating a game plan to make your relationship work. At the end of the hours you had with him, you don’t come up with a solid game plan.

Because Giselle was right, after all, it all comes down to the choices you make. There was no formula on how a long-distance relationship would work. Neither you nor Donghyuck had survived one, but you knew one thing:

Today, you and Donghyuck choose each other.

It’s only the beginning, it seems.

The sun is out and bright when Donghyuck boards the plane.

It’s a lot warmer than the rest of the year, but you don’t really mind.

[qtssvnwoo]

Fancy Clothes-Ron Weasley

warnings: kinda rushed cause i have a headace. not really proof read, fluff that made me personally recoil at how cheesy it is 

a/n: As i said, this is rushed so please bear with me here 

word count: 798

It was common knowledge that the Weasleys weren’t precisely the wealthiest family. Molly had to provide for seven kids along with the help of her husband of course, so having nine mouths to feed, including hers, was a struggle at times but she had always managed. 

  And Ron really admired his mother for that, that even in the harder times she still prepared hot food for all of them. But because of this, when Ron started dating you, he felt like he needed to provide for you. 

   He would do all the things his mom and sister had taught him, like opening doors, making you tea when you feel sick, reassuring you, and all of the above, Ron would do whatever he could to make you happy. But as your relationship got more serious, and your one-year anniversary was coming up, Ron really realized something, he did not own a lot of money. 

   Of course, he knew this all along. But, seeing boyfriends get their girlfriends expensive bracelets, and necklaces for their one year, and even for birthdays made Ron feel insecure.

  Leading to him sitting in his room at the burrow, while all his siblings laughed and joked downstairs, he was stuck with the overbearing feeling of thinking he isn’t good enough. You noticed his demeanor change suddenly, and made your way up to his room, knocking on the slightly open door before entering. 

  “Ron? Are you okay?” You inquired, stepping forward before closing the door behind you. Ron looked up for a second to give you a half smile before nodding his head, only to return to staring at his hands, refusing to make full eye contact with you. You of course knew better, choosing to sit next to him on the edge of the bed while taking his hand in yours and rubbing small figures on the back of his hand.

  “Be honest with me Ron.” You pushed. You knew it wasn’t always the best idea to push him, he could get explosive sometimes, but right now? This felt like something that needed an answer.

  “I can’t buy you anything too expensive.” He answered, making your eyebrows grow together in confusion. 

   “I mean, I can’t buy you a lot of nice things. I don’t have a lot of extra money and I just…” He stopped himself before taking his hand away from yours and folding them in his lap. “Can you forgive me?” He asked, which made you worried.

  “For what may I ask?” 

  “For not being able to buy you fancy clothes, or fancy anniversary gifts.” You felt like your heart had been ripped out of your chest at these words.

  “Ron-”

  “You’ve been with me through everything, you’ve loved me through everything. All you’ve done for me is just…I can’t express in words how much it means to me. How can you love me even though I can’t promise the world to you like other boyfriends.” 

  You stared at Ron for a moment, surprised by his sudden outburst of insecurity before you placed a hand on his cheek and looked at him with those love-struck eyes he just loved so much. 

  “I can love you because love doesn’t show itself to people in the forms of materialistic things. You show me so much love through the little things, and for me, that’s enough.” Ron sighed and dramatically threw himself backward onto the bed, looking up at the ceiling in a way to avoid eye contact with you, but also as a way to possibly find answers. 

  Ron felt stupid, he knew that you loved him but in another way, he didn’t exactly know. He felt conflicted and you could see that in the way his eyes aimlessly stared at the ceiling, expecting an answer to his many questions. You sighed and laid down next to him, letting him wrap an arm around your shoulder and cuddling into his side. 

   “I love you, even if you can’t get me fancy things Ron.”  

   “I love you too darling, but I’m still going to try to get you something fancy.” You laughed at his antics and looked up at him, you caught his eyes looking down at you and you smiled again before leaning up and kissing him softly as a way to show what you meant. Ron smiled into the kiss and rolled over so he was on top of you, he held your face in his hands as he broke away from the kiss, letting his eyes stay lingering on yours before lowering himself down and laying on your chest. 

  You knew you couldn’t explain to Ron how much you loved him, but you knew that through small gestures such as this one, comforting him when he needed it, it might just be enough.

[andithiel]

The secret language of flowers

Another contribution to the @hdcandyheartsfest for the prompt "bouquet". I was heavily inspired by the classic tumblr "fuck you" bouquet, and it's companion mentioned in the notes, the "fuck me" bouquet. As always, a massive thank you my lovely friend @crazybutgood for the beta and flailing and for making me blush 🥰

Drarry | 2,3k (!) | Teen and up for mentions of naughty things happening

“Draco, dear, stop fidgeting.”

Draco looked up at Pansy sitting across the table from him, a heap of textbooks between them. 

“I’m not fidgeting.”

“Okay. Could you then please stop this masturbation replacement and focus on our exam revision?”

He glared at her smirking face and stopped bouncing his leg up and down.

“Thank you.” Pansy smiled sweetly. “Now, could you please pass me the anatomy books?”

He handed them over with a sigh, when there was a tap on his kitchen window. A small brown owl with a flowery scarf tied around its neck sat waiting on the window sill. Draco bolted from his seat to let it in. It stuck out its leg towards him, revealing a scroll of parchment. Draco took it gently and let the bird perch on his owl stand while procuring an owl treat from his cabinet. He rolled out the parchment, chuckling in delight. “Oh dear, they really outdid themselves, this is perfect!”

“What is it?” Pansy got up from her chair and peeked over his shoulder. “A picture of a bouquet?”

He grinned. “It’s a drawn preview for a bouquet I ordered. Let me just approve it real quick and send it back with this owl. I want it delivered as soon as possible.”

He signed the form, dropped the correct amount of money into the owl’s pouch, and sent it on its way.

“Who’s the special one?” Pansy asked. “You haven’t told me you’re seeing anyone.”

“Oh, I’m not seeing anyone, it’s a bouquet of spite.” He turned to her, startling a bit at her demeanour with her arms crossed over her chest, leaning on one hip, eyes flashing. Pansy could be really fucking scary, and in any other situation, he’d be terrified now. But this time, he hadn’t done anything wrong, and she’d probably even enjoy his plan.

“A bouquet of spite?” She raised an unimpressed eyebrow at him. “Let me guess: it’s for Potter.”

“How did you—?”

“Oh, please, as if half the class haven’t seen you eye-fucking each other since we started healer training. It was only a matter of time before you made it official.”

“We’re not— I’m not—” Draco spluttered. “This is a bouquet of spite!” He waved the parchment at her, then forced himself to calm down. Being upset would only undermine his point, even if his indignation came from being horribly misinterpreted. “Look,” he said, more calmly now. “Look at this and tell me it’s not the greatest way to send Potter the Sanctimonius Prick a heartfelt ‘fuck you’.” 

He held up the drawing of the bouquet he’d ordered the day before, thrusting it towards Pansy, but she maintained her usual resting bitch face (although Draco knew perfectly well that the bitch was never resting).

“All I see is a collection of pretty flowers. Very striking, if I may say so.”

“Oh, for fuck’s sake, don’t you see the symbolism?”

“What symbolism?”

“The symbolism of the flowers!” he said, suddenly feeling unsure. Was she playing stupid or was she really not familiar with the Victorian flower language? “Here, we’ve got geraniums for stupidity, foxglove for insincerity—”

“Have you met Potter? He’s the most sincere person in the world.”

“Yes, thank you, Pansy, I’ve noticed that. That’s the point,” Draco sighed. “Anyway, I also picked meadowsweet for uselessness, yellow carnations to say ‘you have disappointed me’, and finally orange lilies for hatred. Ergo: ‘fuck you’ in flowers.”

“Which secret language is this?”

“Pansy, my dear, the Victorian flower language is common knowledge, surely you know all of this already?”

Pansy was silent for long seconds, chewing the inside of her cheek, still with her arms crossed. She reminded him of a cobra waiting to strike. Finally, he couldn’t take it anymore.

“What?”

She shrugged. “Seems like an inordinate amount of money and time to spend just to tell someone you loathe them.”

“You don’t know what you’re talking about,” he muttered, sitting down again with his school books. “Let’s continue revising, shall we?”

💐💐💐

The rest of the day, Draco was in jitters. He couldn’t wait to see how Potter would react to the flowers. Would he be furious? Would he cry? Or worse, would he not care?

He got his answer later in the evening. He’d waved Pansy off and snuggled up on his sofa to read his favourite medical romance novel, when there was an urgent knock on the door. He groaned in frustration and considered disobeying his upbringing by simply pretending he wasn’t at home, but when there was another, even more persistent knock, he reluctantly left his cosy fortress and went to answer it. To his surprise, Potter was standing outside.

“Oh, Draco,” he said breathlessly, as if he was taken by surprise to see Draco and hadn’t just come over to accost him.

“Potter? What are you doing here?” 

Draco realised that Potter had probably come to fight him because of the flowers, and Draco had foolishly left his wand on the coffee table. 

“I, er… I came to thank you for the flowers, I…” Potter chuckled, looking down at his feet and then up at Draco with flushed cheeks and a glint in his eyes that Draco’d never seen before. Except when they were fighting. “Can I come in?” he said, and Draco wasn’t sure if it was his imagination or if Potter’s voice always sounded this… husky.

He was so flabbergasted by the request that it didn’t even occur to him to deny it, so he merely opened the door further and let Potter step inside. He closed it, and then Potter was so damn close, so much so that Draco could smell his aftershave and the hint of sweat underneath; it made his head spin.

“I have to admit I— I’ve thought about it, I mean, thought about us, but… I think I’ve been afraid to really think about it because I wasn’t sure if you’d feel the same,” Potter said, his lips so close to Draco’s ear that his breath tickled Draco’s skin, sending shivers down his spine.

“Sorry?” Draco squeaked. 

“The flowers,” Potter said, drawing back to look Draco in the eyes (and Merlin, this close, Potter’s eyes were mesmerising, with subtle golden hues in them that only emphasised the green). “I have to say that I was a bit angry at first, because I know the foxglove is poisonous. But then I looked into the meaning of it, and…” He chuckled again, biting his bottom lip. 

Draco’s head was spinning. It was like he’d been thrown into an alternate dimension, and he was too shocked by Potter’s behaviour to know what to say. 

“I thought that, as much as we fight with each other, you wouldn’t send me poisonous flowers just to be a dick, so I think ultimately, it was the foxglove that made me realise you were sending me a message. Which shouldn’t surprise me, you’ve always been full of layers and mystery, haven’t you? So, why not send me a message about your affection and fear of telling me outright?”

“Sorry?” Draco said again. Why were words failing him now, of all times?

Potter rolled his eyes, but the smile on his face made it look… fond. “Come on, Draco, I know you probably think I’m clueless when it comes to these things, but even if I don’t know the meaning of flowers by heart, I know how to look stuff up.”

Draco didn’t answer, he just stood frozen, gaping like a fish.

“I’ll admit I was surprised about the meadowsweet for courtship and matrimony, because it felt like maybe getting ahead of things, but—” he stepped closer again, his hands coming to cradle Draco’s waist “—the more I thought about it, the more it made sense, and… I wouldn’t want to rule it out.”

Potter was so close now that his breath ghosted over Draco’s face, and Draco’s eyelids fluttered closed. 

“Geranium for happiness,” Potter said, kissing the angle of Draco’s jaw, “foxglove and orange lilies for pride,” his lips glided along Draco’s jaw. “I shouldn’t be surprised you chose two flowers to symbolise your pride,” he chuckled, and Draco swallowed thickly, his breath quickening, heart beating wildly in his chest. “And the yellow chrysanthemums for joy and celebration were a nice way to sign the message off.” Potter’s lips had reached Draco’s chin, now.

“They weren’t—” Draco sighed.

“What?” Potter’s mouth was so close to his now that they were practically sharing the same air.

“Nothing,” Draco said, throwing all caution to the wind and tilting his head down to capture Potter’s lips with his. 

Maybe this wasn’t the reaction he’d planned, but he was certainly not complaining about the outcome of his scheme. Especially not when Potter grabbed his arse to press himself closer, which led to Draco grabbing Potter’s hair to be able to angle his head just right, which lead to Potter eliciting the most delicious moan Draco had heard in his life, which led to Draco deciding then and there that he needed to send the florist an extra big tip.

💐💐💐

“So, it seems as if the flowers you sent really paid off.”

Normally, Draco would hate to admit to Pansy that she’d been right, but today, the day after having been snogged silly by the Prat who lived, he felt generous.

“Well, I guess one of us had to nudge the other one in the right direction.”

“I think you did more than just nudge Potter yesterday, if that love bite is anything to go by.”

Draco’s hand flew to the part of his neck where Potter had been most persistent in sucking yesterday, but was interrupted by a tapping on the window. When Draco looked up, it was an owl with the same neck bind as the one he’d received yesterday with the drawing of Potter’s bouquet, but this one was larger, and it was clutching a big brown package in its talons. Draco hastened to let it in and set the package down on the kitchen counter. He gave the owl a little bowl of water along with the owl treats—it looked a bit tired—and then proceeded to unwrap what looked like a packet of flowers.

“Oh, more flowers?” Pansy cooed. “A little thank you for your tryst yesterday?”

“Don’t be ridiculous,” Draco said, searching for a card. “And calling it a tryst makes it sound sordid, we didn’t even do anything under the belt.” Unless rutting counted, he thought, remembering with a thrill how Potter had shivered against him as he came. 

Once all the paper was gone, he admired the bouquet Potter had selected for him. It was an odd mix of colours and shapes of flowers, not as aesthetically pleasing as the one he’d sent, but one couldn’t put too much faith in Potter’s choice in beauty.

“Is that a message as well?” Pansy looked at the bouquet with a frown, as if she was personally offended by the messiness of the ensemble.

Draco snorted. “Highly unlikely, since he completely missed my message yesterday.” But out of habit, he started going through the different meanings of the flowers anyway, just to show Pansy how wrong she was. “I mean, look: this one is for “anticipation”, and this, “elope with me. Sure, he told me yesterday that he wouldn’t want to rule out—” He cut himself off, because that particular information was something he hadn’t shared with Pansy yet, because he wasn’t sure he hadn’t been dreaming the whole thing. “And this is for ‘Victory in battle’, which, okay I’ll admit that that could be a message considering how much we fight about things, but—”

He cut himself off again, because the meaning of the red poppies could not be mistaken for anything else. Pleasure. He studied the bouquet again, heat rising in his face as understanding dawned on him. “Fucking hell,” he murmured, feeling Pansy’s eyes on him. 

He fumbled for the card, which read “Hope you like them as much as I liked mine yesterday, XX Harry.”

“That fucking—” Draco crumpled the card in his hand and turned on his heel to go to his living room, where his Floo was.

“What?” Pansy said, bewildered. “What does it say?”

“It says I’ve been had,” Draco said, throwing a too big pinch of Floo powder into his hearth and spinning off to Potter’s flat.

When he stepped out, dusting himself off, Potter was leaning against the back of an armchair, arms crossed and a smug smirk on his face. 

“Did you like the flowers?”

Draco drew himself up to his fullest height, trying as best he could to stare Potter down.

“You—” 

Like yesterday, he was annoyingly at a loss for words, but this time, it was out of anger.

Potter tilted his head, eyes glittering, as if he was an innocent puppy waiting for a treat. “I, what?”

“You know of the Victorian flower language.”

Potter’s smile widened, but still with that sweetness to it. “Of course I do, it’s common knowledge.”

“So, you really sent me a bouquet telling me ‘I anticipate you to elope with me and conquer me in pleasure with much energy’?” Draco said, not sure if he should be offended or impressed.

“I was thinking more like ‘I’m anticipating you and me getting out of here so you can tackle me and enthusiastically fuck me cross-eyed,’ but, yeah, I guess your interpretation work as well.”

Draco choked on his own saliva. “So you— Yesterday— You knew— You understood what—”

“That you wanted to tell me ‘fuck you’? Yeah, I did.”

“But—”

Potter scoffed, pushing off the armchair and prowling closer. “Oh, come on, Draco. No one puts that amount of money and effort into sending an elaborate message like that to someone they loathe. Not even you.”

Draco crossed his arms as Potter stepped into his personal space and tilted his head up towards him. “Well, well, Potter. It seems like you have some Slytherin in you, after all.”

“Mmm. Though I have to say, I don’t think I have nearly enough Slytherin in me,” Potter whispered into his ear. “Care to help me change that?”

Draco nodded mutely as his cock gave a twitch.

“Good,” Potter purred. “And just so you know, you’ll call me Harry from now on.”

Following Harry into his bedroom, Draco swallowed any objection he had. “With pleasure.”

[icypantherwrites]

Fic Update: Bottled Ocean, Chapter 43

Been forever since I posted a Bottled Ocean update on Tumblr (or really any fanfiction updates, but just not really feeling the energy to do so since not too many folks reading anymore and no audience on Tumblr on top of AO3 still not unlocking my story despite removing the link and mention to/of RAINN (which is also still bullshit)). Lots happening though in this Mer!Lance and Slaves! Shiro and Keith whumpy story so might try to resume chapter snippets for it at least (if I can remember). Enjoy :)

Chapter 43 snippet:

It took Shiro a second to realize Lotor had addressed him in his spiel as his brain combined ‘inside’ with the knife and he’d thought Lotor was about to cut Lance but he…

Wanted Shiro’s blood?

Shiro held said appendage out with only the back of his mind knowledge that Lotor was not so stupid as to remove his arm — and the knife was not a bonesaw, it wasn’t — lending him the ability to do so.

He still bit down on his tongue as Lotor, after sliding the arm sleeve back, cut a sliver on Shiro’s arm that immediately welled with blood.

And Lance’s head shot up so fast Shiro winced at the whiplash as those dark ocean eyes zoomed in right on Shiro and he had the strangest sense of deja vu of Lance doing the exact same thing when—

Shiro’s breath caught as he realized it was the exact same reaction as to when Keith had been brought above deck injured and sick and how Lance had been hyper aware of the other boy.

And the common factor?

Shiro glanced down at his arm where crimson was starting to drip down.

“Ah,” Lotor’s voice was soft and delighted and it made a shiver roll down Shiro’s spine. “And so the legends are true. Mers,” his thumb smeared along the wound and lifted up a now red finger, “are attracted to blood.”

He turned to Lance, who shrank back at his approach, and Shiro could see the corner of Lotor’s mouth curl up in amusement at the reaction. “Tell me, Lance,” he knelt in front of the boy and thrust his bloodied finger at Lance’s face and he recoiled even more. “Do you smell it? Taste it in the air? What drives you to it?”

“I…”

Lance’s voice was barely a whisper and he was shaking, face pale. “I just… do.”

“That is not an answer,” Lotor’s voice hardened slightly and he turned to look over his shoulder at Shiro. “That sounds like insubordination, does it not, Shiro?”

“I, I don’t know,” Lance stammered, voice rising in pitch as Lotor summoned a crackle of lightning to his fingers and turned to face Shiro and Shiro fought to remain impassive as he knew what was about to come.

It was just pain.

“I, I swear. I don’t,” Lance continued. “Pl-please. I don’t know. I, I just felt it—”

“Felt it?” Lotor interrupted him and Shiro held his breath as a purple wreathed hand remained inches away from his chest. “But you did not touch it.”

Lance shook his head. “The, the wound. I felt—”

“Of course,” Lotor breathed, whirling back around so quickly his hair slapped Shiro in the face but it wasn’t lightning and the man’s voice was back to excited. “Of course,” he repeated, pulling out his notebook. “With Mers' affinity for healing magic it would make sense that they can sense the wound and therefore are highly attuned to blood. Fascinating. The legends are true but,” he chuckled, “not in the way we interpreted.”

Read the full chapter here

[seraphsfire]

hey y’all i know i said i was going to report back on rings of power and i knew it obviously at this point wasn’t using any lore from the text so instead I was curious what their plan was and I didn’t expect this but they fucking ruined Hobbits. I’m. Legitimately angry, which is why i just want to kind of. warn people. I don’t anticipate really posting much more about it on this blog from now on.

I dont’ mean “ruined” as in “they look stupid”. This is beyond that. They made these brandyfoots cruel.

These hobbits live in groups of caravans and are nomadic. (and as those of you who have seen footage from the first two episodes know they are also extremely dirty and have super fake irish accents which is a conversation someone less tired can tackle)

Turns out with the brandyfoots if your caravan (or you) are too slow, they literally leave you behind to die. This is an issue because Nori’s dad has a broken ankle and her and her stepmom are legitimately afraid they’ll be left behind.

Before the hobbits begin each next migration they will sit there and read out the names of the people they left behind. This is called (and i’m being 100% truthful here) being “de-caravan-ed” 

they drink and look sad about most of the people that were de-caravaned and then a name of a hobbit who was left behind because bees chased him (???) is read and then they all start laughing and say “ha ha he was a bit of an eedjit.”

Anyway all I can describe the feeling of seeing a bunch of hobbits who live by a creed of strict social darwinism and leave people behind to die and then laughing about it as taking extreme psychic damage. 

hobbits are supposed to be good and wholesome and organized around community and family. That’s what hobbits are; i don’t have to tell any of you that because it’s common knowledge. The meanest hobbits get is stealing stuff. Maybe they’ll try to play it off as “oh those people didn’t die! they’re just alone forever!” but if they did that then it doesn’t make sense that they were crying about these people and repeatedly saying that Staying On The Trail Together is the “only way” brandyfoots survived. 

I suppose it could be some sort of obscure part of tolkien lore that i’ve forgotten about some bands of hobbits leaving people behind to die when they were traveling west. If so, please tell me what it says/where because im praying they did Not just go and do this for no reason. 

I was hanging on desperately by a thread hoping for at least internal consistency in this show. I wanted to see some cool scenery maybe, but i think atp ive given up. For instance, Galadriel is rescued by a ship full of numenoreans-- which she doesn’t recognize despite their extremely distinctive armor and ship and clothing and colors. I was like okay whatever. Then they come through the fog to numenor and she’s like OMG ive heard of this place! then later she’s explaining to this guy about how “our people were like kin for generations.” 

........but she doesn’t even know what the numenoreans look like???????she couldn’t even guess based on what they looked like and where in the ocean they were???

another instance of her (and the other elves who couldn’t figure it out) being incredibly stupid is that mark of sauron left on finrod is apparently literally just a map of mordor / the southlands, where the elves were having trouble with orc rumors and stuff already. their wisest elves didn’t even guess this for thousands of years. i could go on and on about that but since they’re obviously not following any of the text, pointing that out over and over again is kind of pointless. Anyway. I know i complained a lot about the first two episodes but episode three was somehow worse? at least the lack of internal consistency within the show itself seemed more blatant this time. And then of course the hobbits having this facade of cute dirtyness (??) but actually being cruel. I think i actually would have minded it less if they had a group of hobbits that were blatantly cruel because you could say they were affected by something. But this is somehow more disturbing. Idk. 

[sadubkiduniya]

Illusionary Mind: Love… A Joke???

We humans are quite silly and stubborn at the same time. One of those thing is falling in love.

Falling for someone or feeling like he is the one is a stupid move from one who has been studying all of his time just for a better future. In reality, it is just a hormonal rush that causes you to feel like you are feeling something new but it is just an attraction that you mistake with Love.

In our world, this thing doesn’t exist. People say that the concept of love is actually from the West, but it is not true after all because if it was from the West. Maybe or maybe not?

The definition of relationships and Love is changing along with the living standards itself.

There was a time when you met each other and went on dates together to find out more about them. Now it is more like going on dates means expecting kisses and hugs from the opposite gender which is a joke.

The so-called Hook-Up culture and situation ships are introduced after 2016. And we all know what this thing is all about. Then, live-in relationships came into existence and are becoming very common.

Not so much but we all know Delhi’s cases.

And teenage girls falling for those street boys. That makes me puke sometimes… Ahem ahem!!!!

Some girls are falling in a minute or so when someone flirts with them… Quora is the prime example here…

I don’t know why have been mistaking each other’s feelings just by having this kind of stuff. I mean girls like stud boys and boys are falling for those softie girls who are not even competitive. The standards of people are dying day by day.

Even they have stopped valuing each other’s feelings and end up saying harsh lines to each other.

The worst part is that when they break up and start saying that all men are the same and all women are the same. They just become zombies and keep on spilling whatever comes to their mind. Like a drunk man fallen in the sewer.

And these so-called Shayars… Man, please write something that is out of love. People like them keep on reminding you how much they have suffered but in reality, their crush got crashed in past.

Source: Suggestion: Thinks Like A Romance Novel

DO YOU THINK CALLING THESE STUFF IS WORTH AS LOVE?

I don’t think so… Because if this is what love looks like then we should stay single and use the phone to satisfy our needs. Also, if anyone wants more than that then rental GFs are there. You can have fun with them. There is a proper counter to everything that makes you feel lonely. Just don’t go for all those sorts of stuff that these annoying tropes are doing.

Love is just a word and joke in our current society. Our generation has made it even worse. More than we can imagine.

Just think, you woke up and found yourself scrolling through those stupid love-based quotations, answers and poems. You will be brainwashed to some extent and might end up doing the same.

Isn’t it cringe?

You are just opening social media to read some good or even discussion platform like Quora to have peace and knowledge. You find all that thing which is completely stupid. People are just vomiting whatever they want here. Sometimes I think they have some stomach issue that’s why they stoop here in the name of discussion.

That’s it for today and I hope no one is hurt.

THANKS FOR READING…

[buck-yyyy]

it does actually drive me crazy. someone once asked me if picasso and da vinci were friends- and somehow i was the asshole for staring at them and asking them if they were serious. like PLEASE you dont have to know but at least have the decency to feel a little ashamed, not double down on your right to have a head full of rocks. rant over thank u for listening

o h my god. oh god. oh i- oh. okay hang on let me turn off history nerd brain real quick cause it’s going a little haywire-

agh i dunno. i feel like there always needs to be a balance between “asking questions and admitting that you don’t know something is good!” and “sometimes you should think about things before you ask because you’ll likely come to the correct conclusion yourself, which is also a good thing, and then you can verify later!”

there’s so many people who get up in arms about the fact that they don’t know something, so they take the second part of that statement and twist it so that it becomes “it’s other people’s fault for not accommodating my questions that are on basic topics i would be expected to know and understand”, which is. yk. not great

and i’m trying (and massively failing) to find a way to word this so that i don’t come across as a huge snobby bitch, but at a certain point there’s certain expectations for basic things you should know, but also! ignorance towards a specific topic that you don’t particularly care about isn’t an inherent flaw that makes you stupid or unintelligent, it just means there’s more out there for you to learn, and it’s on YOU to learn that, not on other people to teach you. it’s not fair to other people to take out on them the fact that you don’t know something that’s considered common knowledge.

essentially, what i’m trying to say is that it’s not bad to not know things. it’s not bad to ask questions about stuff that’s considered common knowledge that you don’t know or understand. it’s great that people ask questions about that stuff! come, ask me questions about art and history and literature, because i’ll be happy to answer, no matter how basic they might seem! but it’s also not fair to react poorly and rudely to someone who’s confused by your lack of knowledge, because at a certain point there’s expectations for what people tend to know. it’s doubly not fair to get defensive over, like you said, your “right” to ignorance on certain topics- because it’s okay to just. not. know.

okay double rant over time to double check this to make sure i’m not unintentionally being an asshole-

[hornime]

watch and learn | iwaizumi hajime x f!reader x team japan

there were two things they all had in common: the growing bulges in their pants that they were urgently trying to distract themselves from, and the fact that their full attention was on you.

warnings: 18+, timeskip!everyone, BIG MANGA SPOILERS BASICALLY, exhibitionism, voyeurism, orgasm denial

w/c: 3.1k

a/n: now i don’t know if iwaizumi hajime (27) athletic trainer learned about female orgasms when he was studying sports science at irvine BUT he def knows how to show a girl a good time which is reason enough for me to write this. also, i read this article to prep for this piece and it was super enlightening, so i do recommend giving it a read if you’re interested!

in the middle of his morning run, iwaizumi slowed momentarily to check the repetitive buzzing of this phone, curious as to who was messaging him this early. when he’d left the apartment, you were sleeping, and you had the tendency to still be sleeping by the time he returned, so who else could it be?

he unlocked his phone, quickly finding the source of the notifications: the team japan group chat.

[06:43 AM] miya: hey @iwaizumi—you know stuff abt the human body right?

[06:43 AM] miya: cus like you studied it in college and shit??

iwaizumi rolled his eyes. i spent four years in america to earn my degree, came back home to support my country’s olympic team, and dealt with the biggest idiots of volleyball, only to get treated like this?

[06:44 AM] iwaizumi: yes, miya. i took many courses on the human body. in fact that’s the purpose of my job. to know the human body. because i am a fucking athletic trainer.

[06:44 AM] miya: okay okay i get it. dumb question

[06:44 AM] iwaizumi: why? is something up? you need help or anything?

[06:44 AM] miya: uhhh kinda

[06:44 AM] miya: @hinata i’m not fucking asking this

[06:44 AM] bokuto: bro just do it

[06:44 AM] miya: @hinata @hinata @hinata 

iwaizumi cocked an eyebrow. what the hell are they going on about?

[06:45 AM] iwaizumi: so am i needed or...

[06:45 AM] hinata: YES

[06:45 AM] hinata: we had a question

[06:46 AM] sakusa: by “we” he means him, miya, and bokuto

[06:46 AM] suna: yeah don’t bring us into this

[06:46 AM] hinata: don’t listen to them! both suna and sakusa wanna know too

[06:46 AM] iwaizumi: okay. what’s up

[06:47 AM] hinata: we wanted to know how to make a girl cum

he chuckled in disbelief.

[06:47 AM] iwaizumi: you’re telling me that you guys are in your mid-20s, literal olympic athletes, and you don’t know how to make a girl cum

[06:47 AM] iwaizumi: have you never done it before??

[06:47 AM] miya: NO

[06:47 AM] miya: FOR THE RECORD IVE MADE MANY GIRLS CUM

[06:48 AM] bokuto: ME TOO

[06:48 AM] bokuto: i think

he laughed out loud, briefly startling another runner on the sidewalk.

[06:48 AM] iwaizumi: you guys are unbelievable

[06:48 AM] hinata: i mean she says she finished but idk what i did to make that happen

[06:48 AM] bokuto: ^^

[06:48 AM] hinata: so like i wanna know how to actually do it

[06:48 AM] suna: actually im kinda interested in this too

[06:48 AM] aran: i pray for your future girlfriends. this is painful to see. im out

[06:48 AM] kageyama: i’m with aran on this one. you guys are dumb

[06:48 AM] hinata: shut up. you suck.

[06:48 AM] miya: cmon iwaizumi, help a guy out

[06:48 AM] sakusa: it wouldnt hurt for you to give us some pointers at least

iwaizumi sighed.

[06:49 AM] iwaizumi: @miya @hinata @bokuto @suna @sakusa meet in the locker room after practice. ill give you guys a lesson in the art of pleasing a woman

to teach effectively, he needed a volunteer, though he was sure you wouldn’t need much convincing. you’d always loved the attention, and the biceps, of the pro athletes. he spun on his heel and jogged home.

you woke up to the sound of your apartment door opening, your boyfriend creeping inside, forehead damp with sweat.

“hey,” you said quietly, making your way towards him.

“hey, baby. sorry for waking you up, i was trying to be quiet.”

you giggled sleepily. “s’okay, haji. you spoil me too much anyway, always letting me sleep in for hours while you’re off doing god knows what.”

at that, his eyes crinkled in amusement, and as you tried to step into a hug, he shuffled back. “woah there, baby. i gotta shower, ‘m all gross from my run. and then,” he gave you a peculiar look that you couldn’t quite place, “i got a proposition for you.”

after his shower, he waltzed out of the bathroom, steam wafting out from behind the door. his tanned body made you feel things you definitely shouldn’t be barely an hour after the sun’s risen, and you reached out to massage the tension in his shoulders. “so, what’s your proposition?”

“well,” he hesitated. “it’s a bit... unconventional. the team asked me to show them how to make a girl cum,” he took in your intrigued expression. “and it’d be a lot easier to explain if i had someone to do a live demonstration with. so,” his eyes flicked up to you. “that’s where you’d come in.”

“a... live demonstration? like you’re gonna make me cum in front of them?”

“yeah, essentially.” he gave you a devilish grin. “you want that, baby? wanna show those boys how a real man treats a gorgeous woman like you?”

you rubbed your thighs at his words. “yeah,” you purred. “i do. wanna show them how good you are to me.”

and that’s how you found yourself nestled between iwaizumi’s muscled thighs, back pressed against his chest, completely naked, with five of japan’s best volleyball players staring at your body in awe.

practically an expert in his field, iwaizumi knew the human body inside and out. this had many benefits; of course it allowed him to catapult up the ranks and work with the country’s best athletes to keep them at the top of their game, but it also had a unique side effect: an overwhelming vault of knowledge on how to make a woman feel good anywhere. 

you’d seen the proof firsthand; he knew exactly where to push, prod, stroke, and tease to have you cumming in seconds, over and over, as many times as you wanted. he was amazing, and you were well-aware just how lucky you were to have such a talented man in the sheets.

“oi,” iwaizumi snapped his fingers, drawing each of the players’ eyes away from your glistening cunt. “pay attention. i know more than anybody that she’s hot as fuck, but you gotta listen to what i’m saying or else there’s no point to this.”

he lightly pressed his lips against your collarbone, slowly tracing them against your jaw, the contact making you squirm. “if you wanna make a girl cum, first thing you gotta do is make her comfortable. if she’s worried about how she looks or sounds or smells she’s gonna be too stressed to let go.” he moved his hands to grope your tits, his calloused fingers brushing over your hardening nipples. “so reassure her, tell her how irresistible she is, how pretty her moans are, how tasty her pussy is. shit like that. the sexier she feels the better it’ll be.”

he leaned into you, whispering into your ear. “feeling good, baby? we can stop whenever.”

you nodded weakly, afraid to open your mouth, barely holding in your whines as his palms worked wonders on your chest and stomach, sending shocks of heat wherever they touched. 

you craned your neck up to observe the men before you. atsumu was flushed red, wringing his hands as if he was worried they’d do something embarrassing if he didn’t keep them occupied. hinata was bouncing his leg up and down, wiping his palms on his shorts as he took in the plushness of your thighs. bokuto was basically drooling, greedily tracing your soft curves with his eyes. suna maintained his indifferent expression, but the reddening tips of his ears showed that he was a lot more hot and bothered than he let on. sakusa stood quietly to the side, leaning against the wall, mask tucked under his chin as if he’d just realized how much the temperature had gone up in the room.

there were two things they all had in common: the growing bulges in their pants that they were urgently trying to distract themselves from, and the fact that their full attention was on you.

"make sure to try different things; there’s multiple ways to make a woman cum. only like a quarter of women experience orgasms just from penetration,” someone made a sound of shock. “yes, the number is that small, bokuto.” 

his fingertip slowly trailed past your belly button, dipping into the mess between your thighs, causing you to slightly arch your back into the solid chest supporting you. “foreplay with the clit is your best bet; even stupid fucks like you probably wouldn’t screw it up too bad.”

hinata opened his mouth to speak, but iwaizumi anticipated his question and continued.

“i know you’re wondering where the clit is. it’s around here, under this hood of skin,” he slid his digit between your labia. “s’not gonna come with a label so you gotta explore a little bit. i know where hers is like the back of my hand, but for you guys, with your girls, you’re gonna have to move your fingers around. slowly. and pay attention to her expressions.” he began to rub in a circular motion around your clit, causing you to make small whimpers of pleasure and shift your hips to meet his movements. 

“if she clenches up or twitches when you feel a certain spot, like this,” your legs flexed as he increased the pressure, “that’s the clit. be kind, it’s not a volleyball. be gentle n’ make small circles, whether it’s with your fingers or your tongue.” 

he thought for a second. “speaking of which, oral’s important. very important. most women cum when they’ve been eaten out, so use your mouths for something more useful than just dirty talk. suck on the clit, maybe tongue-fuck her a ‘lil, but your main focus should always be the clit.”

he removed his hands from your sopping pussy, and you made a pathetic noise of frustration. “’m sorry, baby,” he muttered seductively in your ear. “don’t wanna have you finishing too early. lesson’s barely started.”

he turned his attention back to your audience, his lustful tone being replaced by a more instructional one. “there’s other places that’ll help a woman orgasm, too: her nipples, her neck, her ears—”

“her ears?” sakusa questioned. he blushed profusely as everyone turned to look at him, surprised that he’d opened his mouth. “what? we were all thinking it.”

“s’a valid question,” iwaizumi said. “yeah, you can lick ‘em if they’re sensitive. hers are.” as if to prove his statement, he licked a stripe on the shell of you ear, making you wiggle helplessly at the stimulation. “‘n leave kisses everywhere else. feels good for them just like it does for us.” he wrapped an arm around your waist, pulling you closer to him and forcing your movements to stop as he traced patterns with his tongue all around your neck.

“something you should know about an orgasm is that it’s something called a positive feedback loop.” he looked up and was met with five blank stares. shouldn’t have expected anything from these dumb jocks, he lamented. “basically that means that, once you start releasing sexual tension, things will feel better and better until you climax.”

“oh!” atsumu chirped. “like how my sets get better and better throughout a game.”

“no, not really,” he quipped. “your sets suck throughout.” atsumu frowned at that.

iwaizumi exhaled exasperatedly. “the general idea is that the body gets more and more sensitive, muscle contractions become more and more frequent, and touches feel more and more stimulating until you cum. all right?”

they all made noises of understanding except for bokuto and hinata, whose eyes had glazed over at the first mention of an academic term. whatever, iwaizumi thought. they’ll get it through example.

"don’t worry about it too much if you don’t get it, that’s just an orgasm on paper. in practice, though, this is the crucial step: listen to her. she knows what feels good. never forget that you’re just an idiot with a cock.” he took a breath, gathering his thoughts before proceeding with his lecture.

“if she tells you to slow down, you slow down. if she tells you to go harder, you go harder. if she tells you to keep doing what you’re doing, you...”

“keep doing what you’re doing”, they all chimed in at staggered times.

“that’s right. don’t go faster or else you’ll mess up the rhythm and she won’t cum. and you wanna make her cum, don’t you?”

they nodded simultaneously.

“so if you keep up the tempo and force that feels good to her, you’ll be fine. questions?”

suna spoke up. “what about,” he choked on the word. “penetration?”

hinata hummed in agreement and bokuto jumped in. “yeah, what if i wanna make her cum on my cock?”

iwaizumi made a weird face. “that’s some pretty advanced stuff, but i guess i can go over it. when you try it, though, you have to be patient. with both of your bodies. s’not rocket science but s’not always easy. also it depends on the woman but sometimes she physically won’t be able to finish from penetration alone. just make sure you’re communicating.”

his swirled two fingers over your hole before shoving them in, your wetness making it easy for him to thrust in and out as your entrance stretched to accommodate him. “f—fuck!” your eyes flew open at the intrusion and you body lurched forward, but you were held back by his strong forearm. “ohmygod, oh my g—ah! feels s’good haji, s’good!”

“i know, baby, i know. you’re taking it so well.” he turned his attention back to the men, each of who were gulping heavily. if that didn’t signal to you that they were evidently affected by your moans, the way they shifted in their workout shorts did.

“boys, focus.” he curled his fingertips, brushing at the spongy spot at the top of your walls, ripping a pleasured wail from your throat and causing tears to prick at your eyelashes. “when you’re fingering her, you’ll feel an area inside that’s a bit soft and squishy. that’s the g-spot.”

you trembled in his arms as he mercilessly struck the same place over and over again with his fingers. “when you’re fucking her, try to keep the pressure building there, but it’ll be harder to make her finish since you can’t see what you’re doing.”

your breath hitched as iwaizumi’s incessant movements brought your body tantalizingly close to your release. he suddenly stopped and you almost sobbed in disappointment, until he plunged his fingers impossibly deeper.

a guttural scream of ecstasy came from within you, and your eyes rolled back as he began playing with another part of you, your body putty in his hands. “hngh, haji, ah! so good, s’good...” you threw your hands back around his neck, nails digging into the skin as you desperately tried to keep yourself grounded. your soft moans filled the air.

“stop clenching,” he hissed. “can barely move my hand.” you tried to relax but failed miserably as the tips of his fingers grazed your cervix. 

“holy fuck,” suna muttered. “you’re a god.”

“she sounds so pretty,” atsumu said in amazement.

“i wanna make a girl feel good like that, too!” bokuto sulked.

“you can do it, bokuto!” hinata hit him on the arm. “just listen to iwaizumi. clearly he knows what he’s talking about.” 

their eyes refocused on your figure, writhing in pleasure, prompting white hot waves of arousal to pool in their stomachs. 

“yeah,” sakusa said. “clearly.”

“stop talking,” iwaizumi ordered. “and listen. beyond the g-spot is the cervix, which is basically the end of the vagina. if you’re long enough,” he briefly scanned each of their faces, “which i’m sure you are, you’ll be able to reach it if you bottom out.”

“haji—hajime, please.” the stimulation was coming absolutely unbearable, and you could tell he was sadistically holding you at the edge, refusing to give you the satisfaction of finishing. “lemme cum, please. please lemme cum, please, please, i can’t—i can’t take it ‘nymore!”

“what was that? you can’t take it anymore? gonna cum?” you helplessly bobbed your head up and down, hoping that he’d give you permission. “well,” he growled, “we can’t have that happening, can we?”

he abruptly halted his thrusts, pulling his fingers out of you with an embarrassing squelch and popping them into his mouth. pearly tears rolled down your cheeks as you grieved the loss of contact and relief.

your viewers looked on in horror, feeling immense sympathy for you; you just looked so dejected from being denied yet another orgasm.

“why didn’t you—why didn’t you let her cum?” bokuto asked.

“why do you think?” iwaizumi snapped. “don’t want you guys to see her when she does. that’s for me, and only me.”

“oh, okay,” he responded, disgruntlement clear in his voice.

iwaizumi’s glare could cut glass, it was so sharp. the possessiveness that had enveloped his mind made him hyperfocus on just one thought: being alone with you. “so, any other questions? if not, we’re done here.”

you pouted at that, not wanting the demonstration to be over. “but haji,” you mumbled into his collarbone. “i di’nt get to cum. and i wanna.” you looked up at him, eyes wide with want. “please make me cum.”

iwaizumi sent a harsh glance to the players that nonverbally communicated his message loud and clear: get out. they shuffled awkwardly out of the locker room due to the hardness between their legs that they would most definitely need to deal with soon.

your boyfriend turned his attention back to you. “’m sorry, i know i had to deny you a bunch of times. i just really hated the idea of anyone but me seeing the cute way you look when you cum.”

you made a small noise of acknowledgement and a little whisper of it’s okay, haji. he looked down, sensing the way your poor, desperate cunt was pulsing around nothing, the erotic sight injecting him with the pure need to ravage you.

he shifted his head to kiss you passionately. “why don’t i make it up to you?” he breathed between your parted lips before picking you up by the backs of your thighs, forcing you to lock your ankles around his waist. 

he delicately situated you onto one of the recovery beds at the back of the room, before murmuring something that made your pussy throb in anticipation: “i’ll make you cum whichever way you want, however many times you want, all right? all you gotta do is lay back and take it.”

© property of hornime 2021. do not plagiarize any of my writing and do not repost/copy my writing onto any other sites.

[cherry-stained-blood]

Spicy Chuuya Headcanons. 👀

spicy chuuya headcanons

Synopsis: Look at the title, ya silly lil guy

Pairing: Nakahara Chuuya x GN!reader (they/them)

A/N: This is the first NSFW request I’m gonna be writing, so I hope this will satisfy all of my fellow Chuuya stans. Enjoy! <3

TW: NSFW CONTENT. Chuuya and reader are both switches, cursing, degrading kink, humiliation, choking, bondage, usage of handcuffs, somnophilia, no set description of reader’s body, nicknames like slut and whore, let me know if I missed anything <3

▆▆▆▆▆▆▆▆▆▆▆▆▆▆▆▆▆▆▆▆▆▆▆▆

♥️-Intro

Chuuya is a very interesting young man

He’s not really one that’s gonna be interested in any form of sexual intercourse, he never had understood the entire premise of it

Of course he knew the basics and all of that, common knowledge of course

His entire views on it changed when he got around to dating you however

The mafia executive isn’t really all that expressive in public when it comes to affection, but after being with you for quite some time

He has learned how to please you in bed quite easily

ఌ

♥️-NSFW

Chuuya at first doesn’t really know how to control things at first when it comes to sex

But he’s a quick learner, he nails down everything pretty quickly when it comes to intimacy and sexual activities

For starters, this man is a switch

He preferably leans towards the dominant side however. And depending on how he’s feeling will also affect how he performs in bed

Whenever he’s in control, he gets incredibly cocky and confident

Speaks in a raspy and deep voice whenever he’s pounding into you, also groans a lot as well

Absolutely loves to hold your chin whenever he’s being dominate. He likes to force you to look at him, that way he can see your adorable face whenever he’s pleasuring you

He doesn’t relatively mind being submissive, but he will get embarrassed by it afterwards

His moans are extremely high-pitched whenever he gets close, if you make comments about his pitch he’ll grow absolutely flustered. Also whines and whimpers a lot too

Chuuya also uses his hat to hide his face whenever he’s being a sub as well, take it from him and you’ll be met with the most beautiful sight ever

If he was having a relatively alright day, he’d be more intimate and affectionate. But if he’s feeling stressed out or absolutely pissed, don’t expect him to go soft on you

He usually does best when he’s going rough. However, he’s not nice at all, no matter if he’s in a good mood or not

Will degrade the shit out of you while his cock is buried deep within you, forcing you to take all of him while he breathes dirty little whispers into your delicate ear. The humiliated yet pleasured look on your face every-time he speaks to you like that just turns him on even more

“Yeah, you fucking like that ya little slut? Hah- I’m gonna rail you so fucking hard tonight that my name will be the only thing left in your vocabulary, and make sure that a whore like you knows your place.”

Very into choking as well

The way you let out strangled moans and noises while Chuuya is wrecking you absolutely sends him over the edge. He loves seeing you being so incredibly vulnerable, and just for him as well

Absolutely loves using handcuffs

Whether it’s on you or himself. The feeling of seeing the chains around someone’s wrists while they are getting absolutely dominated really gets him going

Likes to chain you to the bed post while he fucks you stupid, he finds it so incredibly hot. He also loves to use the handcuffs on both yours and his own wrist, it’s like an act of intimacy in his mind

He also doesn’t mind standard bondage with ropes, actually enjoys it just as much as using handcuffs

Seeing the rope burns marked all over your wrists and ankles is something he finds super attractive. He takes them as a reward for making you feel so good that day

“Love… your marks are so breathtakingly beautiful.. And you wanna know what’s better about them? It was me who gave them to you.”

Due to Chuuya’s line of work, he’s always so frustrated and sometimes needs to find an outlet to relieve himself to forget about whatever he experienced that day

However sometimes, you’ll already be asleep by the time you both are home

So because of this, you’ve given Chuuya permission to use you whenever he wants while you’re in a deep slumber

At first, he felt absolutely wrong doing it at first, but after seeing how you reacted to his thrusts in your sleep, it encouraged him to keep going. If you happen to wake up while he’s fucking you in your sleep, you’ll find that he’s being more gentle with you. Only to be sure he doesn’t accidentally hurt you

Yes, he likes it rough, but Chuuya knows his limits. He doesn’t want to risk anything while you’re not conscious

Chuuya is big of aftercare as well

Will literally whip up the best bath you’ll have in a lifetime once you’re both done for the night. He doesn’t admit it, nor does he express it much, but Chuuya loves to wash you up after long long rounds. Something about taking care of you peacefully makes him feel all fuzzy inside

Will also clean up a bit, such as putting clothes that were thrown all over the floor in the laundry baskets. He will also change the sheets if he has to, so that way cuddling next to you won’t be so uncomfortable

Overall, Chuuya is much more expressive under the sheets. Loving to make sure that you’re both pleased by the end of the day, and taking care of you with care as well

▆▆▆▆▆▆▆▆▆▆▆▆▆▆▆▆▆▆▆▆▆▆▆▆

[bwbatta]

The five times James Potter asked you to marry him

(and the one time he meant it)

Pairing: James Potter x Slytherin!Reader

Warnings: 18+, Sexual content, swearing

Word Count: 3.6K

A/N: I saw this done with Fred somewhere but can’t remember who it was that wrote it, so thought I’d do the same with our boy James. There is also a lil bit of smutty goodness within this so please don’t read if this offends you or if you are underage! 

One

The first time James Potter asked you to marry him was when he first met you. 

Quidditch season had begun and Gryffindor vs Slytherin was the first game, enticing everyone to the stands to watch the two rival teams battle it out. James was aware of the new team members he was playing against, but blissfully unaware of how one of them was you. 

Their Gryffindor keeper had just saved a goal from your teammate, throwing the quaffle to James, only for it to be stolen from his grasp before he could blink. 

“What the-”

His eyes caught sight of your green quidditch robes as you zipped away, throwing the quaffle for another goal and succeeding as it soared through. The Slytherin stands erupted into cheers, but James could barely focus on it as he was too focused on you. 

Shaking it off, James pushed himself to focus on the game again, more determined to score, yet when you somehow stole the quaffle away from him another time, he couldn’t help but laugh. 

Had Slytherin finally recruited a decent quidditch player?!

The sarcastic thought barely slipped through his mind before the quaffle vanished from his hands a third time. 

“Prongs!” Sirius flew up beside him, pointing his beater’s bat towards him in an accusing way, “stop giving her the bloody quaffle!”

James just rolled his eyes before flying off towards you with the intent to nick it back. 

Whilst you easily avoided a bludger that Sirius had hit towards you, James quickly pinched back the quaffle in the split second you were distracted. With a cheeky grin in your direction, he winked and flew towards the Slytherin goals. 

After that, it became more of a game between the two of you rather than the actual match. Stealing the quaffle back and forth had you both snickering at the other when they lost it. 

With the commentator suddenly breaking the information that the two seekers were in a battle to catch the snitch, James’ attention shifted for just a moment to watch, which was just long enough for you to steal the quaffle away once more, just as the game ended.

Noticing the quaffle no longer in his grip, his attention shot to you where you held up the ball with a grin, winking back at him. 

Despite the two of you messing around with each other the whole game, neither of you had said a word to the other. Breaking the silence between the two of you, James couldn’t help but laugh, despite the fact Gryffindor had just lost after Regulus Black had caught the snitch for Slytherin. 

“Marry me.” He grinned widely at you as you smiled back just as big. 

“Not today.” You snickered, winking at him once more before flying down to join your team. 

Sirius appeared beside his best mate with an odd expression on his face, having just witnessed the exchange. 

“Am I missing something?”

James just chuckled, but his gaze stayed on you, watching as you cheered along with you team at the win. He wasn’t aware of who you were before the game, but he was very aware of you now. 

Two

Despite the fact you were sorted in Slytherin, you didn’t get along with certain members of your house. The common room always seemed to be the hotspot for wannabe dark wizards who publicly shared their common views on blood status and who wasn’t worthy of studying magic. 

It was something you didn’t agree with and so avoided as much as you could. This was why you sought your refuge in one of the alcoves off the third floor corridor. It was quiet and you didn’t get nearly as distracted as you would if you had stayed in the common room, or even the library for that matter. 

Hearing a loud swear and then the sound of feet pounding down the corridor, you couldn’t help but be curious. Sticking your head out, you had to admit you weren’t surprised to see a panicked James Potter and Sirius Black running down the corridor towards you. 

The loud shout from behind them, which could only have come from Professor McGonagall, followed them as it echoed down the hall. 

The corridor came to a dead end and the two friends shared a look of dread. Before you knew what came over you, you stuck your head out and whispered to them.

“Psst,” their attention was immediately on you, “in here.”

Stepping out of your spot, the two boys clambered in as you walked down the corridor to come face to face with a furious Professor McGonagall. 

“Miss Y/L/N,” she controlled her anger as she questioned you, “have you seen Mr Potter or Mr Black come down here?”

“The two Gryffindors?” You inquired, your face void of anything that would give you away, “not down here, no, though judging from the noise and smell of chaos, I think they went that way.” 

Pointing down the direction of the opposite hall, the professor thanked you before turning and storming down it, turning the corner at the end and disappearing from sight.

With a snicker, you turned and headed back to find both James and Sirius with huge grins on their faces. 

“Oh, you’re not just a normal Slytherin are you?!” James gleamed, stepping forward, out of the hiding spot. 

“A normal Slytherin?!”

“Conniving, back stabbing, selfish.” Sirius listed off, “my entire family’s full of them, but you are different.”

“Glad I could break the Stereotype.” You shrugged a shoulder, before your attention shifted to James. “What did you two do anyway which set off McGonagall like that?!”

The pair of Gryffindor’s looked slightly sheepish suddenly as if they were reluctant to say. 

“Uhhh, maybe because we set up a prank for some Slytherins’ to drop honey and feathers on them as they walked through the Great Hall, but McGonagall ended up walking through it instead.” James grimaced at the memory of how furious the teacher was. 

“Well that was stupid,” you snorted whilst grabbing your bag from the floor, “she obviously just vanished it. Next time you should definitely add a sticking charm so they can’t just magic it away. Oh and get the right target. As far as I’m concerned, the Slytherin’s that are the biggest dickheads are fair game, deal?”

“Marry me.” James gazed at you like you just discovered the stars.

With a small laugh and a roll of your eyes, your attention was quickly drawn to a piece of folded parchment on the ground which you were sure wasn’t yours.

“What’s this?” You questioned as you caught sight of the front. “Messers Moony, Wormta- hey!”

“Nothing!” Sirius said quickly, snatching it from your grip and tucking it away.

“Yeah because if it was nothing, you wouldn’t just rip it out of my hands now?!” You snickered, “you know if you really don’t want it to be read, you should put a password phrase on it to at least make it look like it’s nothing.”

“Actually, that’s not a bad idea.” Sirius grinned, “you know, you’re not that bad.”

“So I’ve been told.” You laughed back at him, completely missing how James was grinning at you with utter wonder in his eyes.

Three

After inspiring the Gryffindor duo with both the prank idea and how to further the map, you didn’t expect that James and Sirius would rarely leave you alone. 

Because of this, you were introduced to Remus and Peter since both James and Sirius had determined you should be friends, especially when you could give them inside knowledge on which Slytherins to go after.  

You weren’t sure how to feel about it at first, but after a while it became natural to sit with the boys for breakfast or dinner. 

You also didn’t expect to see Amycus Carrow walk through the common room late one evening, mysteriously covered in honey and feathers after relaying a snide comment to you about your newfound friends.

The satisfaction you got from seeing Carrow try to explain there was obviously a sticking charm, preventing him from vanishing the sticky mess to his friends, was so much better than you could’ve imagined. You told the boys that very thing the next day. 

It also wasn’t long before James took the plunge and asked you out to Hogsmeade. 

The two of you had grown close despite your different houses, yet you both couldn’t deny there was a major attraction between you. (Something Sirius constantly commented on.)

Which was why you found yourself in the Three Broomsticks with James, laughing over butterbeers with story he told you.

“So then Remus enters the room to find it destroyed with Sirius handcuffed to his bed, naked, with only a pillow covering him. And you know what he said, like any other Tuesday? ‘I heard they’re serving Pie for dinner tonight’.”

“I’m telling you, those Ravenclaw girls are devious! Maybe even more so than us Slytherins!”

“Well if it’s any consolation, I would hate to get on your bad side.” James grinned at you, raising his glass.

“I’ll drink to that.” You snickered, clinking your glass with his. 

“Well well, I wouldn’t have expected to see you in here with this riffraff, Y/N.” A cold voice was heard from behind you. “Then again, you did always hang around with the wrong sort, a blood traitor no less.”

Turning around, your eyes met the steely blue ones of Lucius Malfoy. 

“Don’t call me by my first name like we’re friends, Malfoy. And for the record, at least I don’t associate myself with wannabe death eaters, like your friends.”

To further your point, your eyes flickered over to the group where Malfoy was originally sat, the group containing the Carrows, Mulciber and Snape.

Lucius’ expression was tight, yet both James and you could see the look of hate in his eyes. 

“You should leave.” James stood to match Lucius’ height as he rounded the table, effectively putting himself between the two of you. The two men stared each other down.

“And why should I?” Lucius questioned back, his voice cold. 

“Because it would be an absolute shame if anyone found out about your midnight visitor the other night. Right, Malfoy?” You questioned with a innocent look on your face. 

Standing up and linking your arm with James’, Lucius’ eyes snapped to you as you held his expression with a stern one of your own. 

“A Hufflepuff, wasn’t she? And a muggleborn no less. Which is weird because, aren’t you engaged to Narcissa Black? I wonder what her family would think, them being the ‘Noble House of Black’ and all?” 

Lucius looked furious, but you held his glare firmly, only for him to step back a few moments later, allowing a space for you to pass. Pulling James along with you, you headed towards the door with a spring in your step like you hadn’t just blackmailed one of the Slytherin prefects.  

“Ooh, can we go to Honeydukes? I need to stock up on chocolate frogs.”

James was stunned, captivated and slightly aroused. 

Watching you take on Malfoy like it was nothing more than a brain training activity, made him laugh in wonder as the two of you exited onto the street. 

You kept talking about the new limited edition sugar quills before you paused, realising James wasn’t really listening to you anymore. 

“Hey, you alright?”

“Marry me.”

With a grin, you just linked arms with him again, the two of you heading in the direction of the sweet shop, a growing list of sugary items to buy. 

Four

With a groan of pleasure, James pulled you tighter to him as you moaned out his name, your hands wound in his hair making it appear a lot messier than usual. 

The two of you had graduated Hogwarts only a few months ago, and after dating for just over two years, James asked you to move in with him once you finished school. 

The small flat the two of you shared was found in Diagon Alley, above the quidditch shop, which you wondered whether he had planned or not when he first suggested you view the place. Sirius and Remus had their own flat which the former had bought for the two with the money he had inherited from uncle, after being disowned from his family. 

Your small group of friends supported him the best you could, which included Sirius moving in with James and his parents for a while as they finished Hogwarts. Yet, when they entered the final months of their seventh year at school, Sirius insisted he would look for his own place, not wanting to intrude longer than he already had, not that the Potters’ would call him staying with them an intrusion of any kind. 

“Fuck, Y/N.” James gasped out as he quickened his pace, thrusting into you faster as you christened the different rooms. 

You had both started in your bedroom before moving to the living room, kitchen and then the bathroom, before ending up back in your room once more. 

His lips met your own as you pulled him by his neck closer to you, wrapping you legs around his waist tighter, effectively getting James to hit a spot deep within you, causing you to cry out in pleasure. 

Quickening his pace, James used his expert fingers to bring you closer to your brink, before you gasped out loudly, quickly reaching your climax. The feeling of you coming around him had James grunting out, thrusting harder to chase his own release. 

Gripping your headboard, he came with a groan, muttering your name over and over as he pulled you close to him, both of you basking in the bliss that came from the several orgasms you’d both experienced over the last few hours. 

“Marry me.” James murmured into you hair, pressing a kiss to the top of your head. 

“Maybe later.” You chuckled, exhaustion now hitting you hard as you both relaxed back in bed. “Too tired now.”

James snickered as he pulled a blanket over the two of you, finding a comfortable position as you curled up together, both utterly content within that perfect moment. 

Five

A lot had changed since you left Hogwarts and being inducted into the Order of the Phoenix was just one of them. 

Your closest friends were also recruited which both reassured you and terrified you. As much as you were glad that you were fighting on the right side of the war with the people you could trust with your life, if anything happened to any of them, you don’t know what you’d do. 

It was suppose to be a small mission, just quick enough to gain intel for the Order which was why Moody chose only a select few of you to complete it. 

James, Remus and you, accompanied by Lily Evans, who you had been properly introduced to in your seventh year, were the four chosen for the task. This of course had annoyed Sirius to no end as he hadn’t been picked and constantly moaned about it the few days prior. 

Accidentally setting off the taboo alarm, death eaters apparated before you causing the four of you to split into two’s, fighting back to back. 

Quickly hitting the three death eaters before you with a stunning spell, you turned and shot another ‘stupefy’ at one who had their wand aimed at Lily. She successfully took out a couple more as she was back to back with you, sharing a grin at how well both of your training had helped you.  

Glancing over at James unconsciously, you spotted one sneak up behind him as he was separated from Remus after one death eater blew up the floor beneath them. 

With the first spell that flew to mind, you aimed your wand at the advancing threat, shooting a bat bogey hex at them, just as their killing curse missed James by inches, only for him to be hit by a weak confundus charm.

You were certain your heart skipped several beats due to the stress and anxiety as you dropped to your knees next to him on the ground. His nose was obviously broken from one spell shot at him and a dazed expression was present on his face.

Taking his face in between your hands, you quickly got a good look at him to check for more injuries as Lily and Remus stunned the last of the attackers and started to round them up. 

“James, can you hear me?”

“Y/N,” he grinned widely, “what are you doing here?”

“Saving your arse from being killed.” You rolled your eyes but couldn’t help the small smile on your face at how dopey your boyfriend looked. 

“You always save my arse, I think you quite like my arse really.” James snickered loudly like he had just told a funny joke. “I think you might want to marry my arse. Ooh, I think you should really marry me though.”

You chuckled at him, quickly fixing his broken nose and helping him up. 

“It means you’ll have to actually propose to me then, with a proposal better than that, my love.”

“Really?”

“Really.”

James nodded, deep in thought before his eyes lifted to spot Remus and immediately he waved an arm to try get his attention.

“MOONY! I NEED YOUR HELP TO PROPOSE.”

Six

The truth was, as much as James joked about it, and as much as he said it within the span of meeting you, you did not expect it for one moment when he actually asked you to marry him. 

Saturday started off as any normal weekend would.

With the promise from Dumbledore to call only if it was an emergency, your group of friends was given the day off and so a plan was set in motion to have dinner at yours and James’ flat. Despite popular belief, James could actually cook very well and so insisted on whipping up a roast dinner for you all, shooing you out of the kitchen when you tried to help. 

Sitting around your dining table with your closest friends, you couldn’t have asked for a better day. It was the first in a while where everyone could relax slightly and take the time to enjoy themselves. 

Remus and you were in a discussion about a book he had recommended to you, when James entered the room with the meal, putting it in the centre of the table. Whilst Sirius was avidly denying James could cook, Lily and you snickered between you as you watched the boys interact with each other. 

The meal went by quickly, everyone enjoying their time together before Lily and you cleared the plates away as a compromise, after James cooked everything. 

You didn’t suspect anything going on until you reentered the room to find the boys in a hushed discussion, giant smiles on their faces, jumping away from each other after noticing you return. 

“Everything okay?” You asked slightly suspicious as the four boys shrugged off your concerns. 

“Yeah, absolutely perfect, wanna sit down?” Sirius wrapped an arm around your shoulders, guiding you to the living room with the others following. 

“You’re acting weird, Siri.” 

“I am weird, honey, I was born into the House of Black.”

With a smile and narrowed eyes, you decided to ignore whatever secret it was the boys had, and focused on enjoying the time you had together.

It wasn’t until James stood and grabbed your hands, pulling you up from your seat, that you became slightly suspicious again. 

“Y/N, if you don’t mind, I’d like to say something to you and all our friends.”

Wrapping an arm around your waist, he brought you closer to him, pressing a kiss to your head. Wrapping your own arm around his waist in turn, you cuddled close to him, feeling absolutely content. 

“As we all know,” James began, catching the attention of the small group, “it had been an absolute shock for most of you hear today, that I can actually cook a meal and not poison anyone.”

A round of snickers passed around the group as James rolled his eyes at your reactions. 

“We also all know that me being able to cook, is far from the most shocking thing to happen to us all. The biggest shock, was of course, the Gryffindor quidditch team losing to Slytherin when this little minx showed up and stole the show!” 

“Here here!” Sirius agreed, lifting his glass of Firewhiskey in agreement.

“Another shock was also when I asked her on a date and she agreed, yet I think that was more Y/N’s mistake than anything.” James chuckled out, now looking slightly more nervous than he did before. “If we’re talking about biggest shocks throughout our relationship, her agreeing to move in with me was another, along with my shock when I discovered what she could do with her tongue-”

“James!”

“Ow! Okay, fine, no bedroom talk!”

The punch to his arm barely phased James’ smile though as he grinned at you so wholeheartedly, you think you might melt on the spot. 

“Anyway, one thing that probably isn’t a shock is the countless times I’ve mentioned my intentions to you. Which is why...”

James unravelled his arm from your waist as he quickly caught something thrown at him by Remus, before dropping to one knee in front of you.

You were sure your heart had stopped. 

“I’m now going to ask you again, legitimately this time.”

Opening up the small white box, a gorgeous diamond and ruby ring was readily positioned, shining up at you as your eyes flicked from the ring, to James and back repeatedly. 

“Y/N, I know I’ve said this before, but please, marry me?!”

Throwing your arms around his neck, you must’ve repeated the word ‘yes’ over and over again as James proceeded to kiss you, before slipping the ring on your finger. 

In that moment, surrounded by your closest friends and the man you loved more than anything, you felt the happiest you ever had and wished for nothing more than to live in that moment forever. 

Harry Potter Taglist:

@ochrythum @hahee154hq @loonyslytherin @fleur-tysworld @la3divine @fiantomartell​

Permanent Taglist: 

@whatthefuckimbisexual​ 

[bitsandbobsofwriting]

Leon brings Merlin and Lancelot in on his underground enterprise;

Turns out, Leon is the biggest Magic Ally out there. Confusion, bonding, and sneaky hijinks ensue.

I imagine it starts fairly normally.

The Gang (King Arthur, Merlin, and the five knights) have literally just arrived back at the castle after a fairly uneventful hunt (I mean... nowadays, getting attacked by bandits only once in three days counts as uneventful).

Merlin is left behind to help the stablehands untack the horses, like usual, except he leaves the stables half a candle mark later to find Leon awkwardly loitering around outside, the evening dimming around him.

He thinks maybe the First Knight had gotten injured, and was too embarrassed to ask for help in front of everyone (something that is common in all of the knights. Merlin thinks it’s very stupid, and has told all of them this at least once), so doesn’t question it when Leon asks Merlin for a quick word, and leads him back to his quarters.

Leon locks the door behind him. Not unusual, the man was very private. It’s when he puts a chair in front of the door and draws the curtains, that Merlin starts to get a little nervous. He’d cast a small enchantment on one of the bandits, to make him confused enough to trip over his own feet (as opposed to skewering Elyan, which is what he’d been about to do) but Merlin was certain that no one had seen him. He was certain.

And... Leon was a knight. He’d been a knight for longer than Arthur had been King, longer than he’d even known Merlin. Surely if he saw... he would've said something, accused him or just killed him.

(He has to remind himself to have a little faith in his friends. But also: “This might be completely unrelated, so just act natural.”)

Leon turns around to look at Merlin, and instantly recognises how nervous the younger man is, despite his poor attempt to hide it. The knight keeps his distance, and gives him a slow nod:

“I just wanted to let you know, Merlin, if you ever need... ah, a way out of the city, unseen, at short notice, then I can sort something for you.”

At that, all of Merlin’s racing, terrifying thoughts, stutter to a stop, and he looks at Leon with nothing but confusion on his face. He tilts his head slightly, asking, ever so eloquently:

“...What?”

Leon sends a soft smile and a knowing wink his way:

“Or, you know, the back up of a noble in court, or an alibi, I can do that to. I have a feeling that, considering you haven’t done a runner yet, you’re planning on sticking around.”

Merlin just furrows his eyebrows, shaking his head slightly in bewilderment:

“I... Leon I have no idea what you’re talking about. What do you mean, done a runner? Why would I need your help in court or... or an alibi??”

Leon just raises an eyebrow, and tilts his head.

Merlin copies him.

A look of realisation crosses the blonde’s face, and he lifts his hands in surrender:

“Ah. Ok, before I say anything else, I promise Merlin, you are entirely safe. I would protect you with my life if I had to-”

Merlin slowly nods, still confused:

“-I know about your magic.”

Merlin gasps and steps back, but Leon just smiles at him again, nodding his head slightly; it does nothing to relax the servant, and his breathing continues to get deeper as he backs himself against the wall, tears filling his eyes.

Leon frowns, his heart cracking slightly, but resists the protective urge to walk towards Merlin to comfort him. Instead he takes a step back, not lowering his hands. Before he can open his mouth to utter more reassurances, a tirade of broken, cracking apologies fall from Merlin’s lips:

“I... Leon I swear I’m not evil, I... I don’t hurt people, I promise. Please, you... please believe me, I would NEVER-”

Leon interrupts him, shaking his head rapidly, and forcing a reassuring smile on his face:

“I know. Merlin, I know that. I know you’re not evil, I know that you use it to protect us, I know. It’s ok, I won’t tell anyone, you’re not in danger, I would NEVER hurt you, or tell anyone, ok? I swear it. You’re safe with me.”

Merlin gulps, but relaxes (only slightly, but it’s a start. Leon doesn’t know why he’s so surprised at Merlin’s reaction, I suppose he thought he had been clear in his brotherly affection and protectiveness towards the younger man. Apparently not; he would have to fix that). He gives Leon an assessing once over, and it strikes the knight how efficient he is. He wonders how many times Merlin’s eyes have flicked over someone: checking their face for any sign of deception, checking how close their hands are to a weapon, checking their stance to see if they’re preparing for a fight.

Leon stays in place, forcing himself to untense, and giving Merlin a weak smile, hoping that the servant doesn’t mistake his slight heartbreak for fear or anger.

After a few moments, Merlin relaxes even further (though is still understandably ready to bolt at a moment’s notice), and steps away from the wall, Leon’s smile widens, and he nods once again, patiently waiting for Merlin to say something:

“You... you offered to smuggle me out of the city?”

Leon nods, glancing to the door behind him before gesturing Merlin to keep his voice down as he replies cryptically:

“You wouldn’t be the first.”

The servant gulps, giving the knight an assessing gaze, magic buzzing under his skin, alert and frightened at the idea of a Red Knight other than Lancelot knowing the truth:

“You’ve smuggled others out?”

Leon nods and moves ever so slowly to sit on the edge of his bed, still holding his hands up placatingly. He doesn’t gesture for Merlin to join him, understanding the other man’s remaining jumpiness, but leaves space next to him, just in case.

Merlin hesitates for only a second before settling on the bed next to him, forcing himself to relax. The knight wasn’t currently armed, and anyway, if Leon had been planning on accusing him or attacking him, then he wouldn’t be doing this. None of what he said could, in any way, make sense as some sort of trick.

Once Merlin settles, still a little uneasy, Leon begins his explanation in a quiet voice, obviously still worried about startling Merlin (and obviously not wanting to risk someone overhearing him):

“It started when I was fifteen. One of the serving girls in my father’s household was born with magic, though it didn’t manifest until years after the purge started. She was my age, sweet, kind, I couldn’t possibly believe her to be evil or corrupt, but under The King’s law, she would’ve been burned. Poor girl was terrified of being found out, but Uther was so paranoid, they were basically interrogating anyone who entered or exited the city; she had nowhere to go. I had already started my training at this point, so I used my knowledge of guard rotations and shift changes to sneak her out. I left her with some family in a village nearer the border, snuck back in a few days later. From then on it just... kept happening. I suppose I got good at recognising the specific brand of fear that magic-users in Camelot suffer from, and I’ve got a good eye; I know magic when I see it-”

He gives Merlin a knowing look, but the servant just turns indignant and says:

“Well, I was also born with magic, and it took you ten years to figure it out, so-”

He sticks his tongue out at the knight, and Leon raises his eyebrow at him, before laughing and nodding, thankful for Merlin’s lessening fear:

“-yeah, I suppose. But still. It started off with just the occasional person; one or two a month. And then it was whole families or groups of people who either had magic, or were scared of being accused and wanted out. It became a bit of a side-career, though I always refused any payment they offered.”

Merlin stares at him, thoughtful and in awe, before yet another look of realisation crosses his face:

“Is this why the Druids are so fond of you?”

Finally, it’s Leon’s turn to look confused, and Merlin continues:

“Whenever we come across them, they always seem less wary of you than the other knights, like they know what you’ve done.”

Leon takes in slow breath, quirking his eyebrows slightly and shrugging:

“I’ve never really noticed, maybe. I’ve never been into a camp, but when someone I was sneaking out had nowhere to go, I’d take them as close to a Druid settlement as I dared, and pointed them in the right direction; I suppose word might’ve spread.”

Merlin nods, looking to his lap, thinking. Leon stays silent, understanding that this is probably a lot to take in, and not wanting to interrupt Merlin’s processing time. 

After a few moments, Merlin, still staring into his lap, reaches across to Leon and takes the knight’s hand in a shaking one of his own. It’s then that Leon notices the slow tears on the other man’s face, but before he can say anything, Merlin looks up at him, his voice shaking as he whispers a rough:

“Thank you.”

Leon smiles, squeezing his hand and bumping their shoulders together:

“Anytime. Like I said Merlin, I would protect you with my life. If you ever need anything...”

Merlin takes a deep breath, standing and wiping the tears from his face quickly before dragging Leon to the door:

“There is one thing. Come on.”

Leon allows himself to be dragged, and Merlin moves the chair to the side before stepping out of the way, allowing Leon to unlock the door with the key hanging around his neck. He doesn’t question where they’re going, though he is slightly confused when he notices that they’re heading deeper into the castle, as opposed to outside or to Merlin’s chambers like he was expecting.

They finally come to a stop outside Lancelot’s door, and Leon nods to himself in realisation. He had suspected that the other knight had known the truth, but hadn’t wanted to ask or push it in case he was wrong.

Merlin knocks rapidly after checking the corridor for other people, and the door had barely been opened before he’s pushing his way through, still dragging Leon behind him. The two men move to stand by the opposite wall, Lancelot still by the door looking increasingly confused:

“Merlin, Leon, is... is everything alright?”

Merlin waves his hand casually, not even needing an incantation as his eyes flash briefly gold and the door shuts of it’s own accord (... or Merlin’s accord).

Lancelot immediately gasps and makes a jump for the sword sat on the table, but Leon holds his hands up in surrender as Merlin rushes to speak:

“Lance it’s fine!! Leon knows about my magic, and he’s been smuggling people out of Camelot for decades, he’s safe.”

Lancelot looks to Leon with a mix of suspicion and relief, still picking the sword up and holding it loosely in one hand, but the older knight is too distracted staring at Merlin in mild outrage:

“Dec- How old do you think I am, Merlin?!”

Merlin looks up at him guiltily, and Lancelot lets go of his suspicion, instead clamping his free hand over his mouth to stop himself from laughing at Merlin’s squeaked reply:

“Uh... there’s no safe way to answer that, is there? You said you were fifteen when you started, and I know you’re older than Arthur, so...”

Leon scoffs, rolling his eyes as Lancelot snorts:

“I’m only five years older than him, Merlin. I’m thirty-one, you can say “decades” plural when I hit thirty-five, and not a day sooner.”

Merlin holds in a smirk, and nods. Lancelot clears his throat, dropping the sword back on the table and asking the obvious question:

“So... how much does he know?”

Merlin spends the rest of the night explaining everything, from Kilgharrah calling to him when he first arrived, (”You mean that thing was under the castle the whole time?!”) to just last week, when he had to sneak out of the city to deal with a particularly insatiable Succubus that was causing problems with the border patrols (”Huh. I wondered why the men had just... stopped disappearing. I’m not complaining though, thank you.”).

He included all the information about the prophecies and being Emrys and how Arthur was the Once and Future King and the coming (potential) Golden Age. Leon was especially curious about that, and interrupted often to ask questions.

Lancelot also interrupted rather often, but only to correct Merlin when he underappreciated his own genius or power or selflessness, much to Merlin’s embarrassment and annoyance.

Merlin also tried to miss out as much of his own suffering as he could, but Lancelot wasn’t having it, and Leon was horrified to learn of the Serket sting, the countless, almost fatal fights he’d had with various people (Nimueh, The Cailleach (”I did also wonder how the veil just... repaired itself. Nice one.”), Morgause, Agravaine, etc (Morgana is good in this, though her magic is still hidden)), and all the other terrible things that had happened.

When he finally finishes, Leon is speechless.

The knight had just thought that Merlin had learned a few tricks to keep himself and Arthur safe when they went out and about, but he was actually, apparently, the most powerful Warlock ever, and had a whole series of prophecies and battle scars to back it up. Lancelot’s face was an odd mix of prideful and mournful, and that only drove home to Leon how much Merlin had suffered over the years.

After a few minutes of silence, Merlin awkwardly waiting, as if for judgement, Lancelot pipes up, his voice oddly cheery:

“So, Sir Leon, fancy two extra sets of hands in the little smuggling ring you’ve got going?”

~

And that is essentially... exactly what happens. 

It’s usually Leon who discovers the sorcerers, being the most observant of the three, but it’s Merlin they send on the first approach more often than not. Leon had always been painfully aware of how scary a Camelot Knight going “I know you have magic” must be, so the trio takes advantage of Merlin’s non-threatening look. That, paired with the fact that he’s well known and well loved around the town, makes starting things off a lot easier.

A lot of the time, the people they approach don’t want to leave. They’ve kept themselves hidden for over twenty years, and they plan to continue to do so, but it’s a weight off their back to know that the option is there if they need it.

Merlin introduces Leon to the tunnels under the city, hidden and warded with his magic. The older knight is very much relieved at that; taking advantage of gaps in guard rotations wasn’t the most reliable plan, and he’d been paranoid for years that something would go wrong one day and he’d get caught.

They worked well together, though all three of their lives got a lot more complicated. Lancelot and Merlin were pulled into Leon’s secret smuggling life (despite him insisting that they could sit it out, considering they were already so busy trying to keep Arthur alive, which is apparently a lot harder than Leon had first assumed), and Leon was pulled into Merlin and Lancelot’s secret “bring about the Golden Age” life (despite the two of them insisting that Leon didn’t need to help, considering he was already so busy running a smuggling ring right under the nose of the King).

To be honest, the two lives sort of swirled together. Anyone that they sent to the Druid camps was told to spread the word of the Once and Future King, and when Leon was sent to distract Arthur when Lancelot and Merlin needed to do something Magicky, Lancelot was sent to distract Arthur when Leon and Merlin needed to do something smuggly.

Eventually Gaius finds out. Because of course he does. Because he’s not stupid. And whilst the three of them are unwilling to put him in anymore danger than he’s already in (harbouring a Warlock is... pretty dangerous. Though Arthur would probably forgive the older man anything.), they never turn away the small, portable medkits he passes along to them, and don’t complain when he offers to talk to Arthur about a promising new treatment for the flu for a few hours.

But overall, they have a proper little (unpaid) enterprise going, and no one suspects a thing. 

~

Mistakes are made of course, some a little bigger that others. But most of them get a laugh from the trio when they think back on them later.

Ironically enough, this mistake came when the trio mistook a “need to save Arthur” problem, for a “need to save this poor scared sorcerer” problem.

They’d been getting complacent. No one had tried to kill Arthur directly in a while, so when a visiting Lord brought with him a very nervous, very secretive stablehand, they didn’t even consider that it would be the young servant who wanted to kill Arthur as opposed to the visiting noble (who was an arsehole, and therefor automatically under suspicion).

Merlin, being the most powerful of the three of them, was keeping an eye on the noble; trying to keep him away from Arthur as well as trying to figure out if he knew that his stablehand was a magic-user. Leon was distracting Arthur, with the help of a report Gaius had written, by talking endlessly about certain weaknesses in the knight’s armour and the injuries that Gaius treats most often and the link between the two.

That left Lancelot to trail the stablehand, whose name they had discovered was Alban. He wasn’t wearing any armour and didn’t have a sword, only a small dagger up his sleeve, so as not to frighten the boy.

Which of course was a huge mistake.

Considering how innocent Merlin looks, but how dangerous he actually is, they really shouldn’t have underestimated the boy, but alas, with how well both of the secret lives had been going, their egos had grown, and they weren’t as careful as they should’ve been.

It was only after the Lord had retired to his chambers (and Merlin had come to the annoying conclusion that he was an arsehole, but certainly not smart enough to be dangerous), and Leon had exhausted every possible line of enquiry about armour and injuries, that the two of them thought something might be wrong.

It had been hours since they had heard from Lancelot, and by the sounds of it, no one had seen him in that time either.

The stablehand also couldn’t be found.

They tried not to assume the worst; all of them (Merlin, most often) had disappeared for longer before, so before they panicked, the two of them went about methodically searching for the other knight.

The wards down in the tunnels hadn’t been disturbed, Lancelot’s room was untouched (the sight of his armour and sword laid out on his bed did nothing to quell their growing anxiety), and no one had seen him leave the city. The Camelot stablehands had no idea where the visiting servant was, and had apparently barely seen him in the stables since he’d arrived anyway.

Now it was time to panic.

The two men rushed back to Lancelot’s room, shutting the door behind them, Merlin hurriedly asking:

“What’s the last thing he touched, do you reckon?”

Leon raked his hands through his hair for the dozenth time, looking around with wide eyes:

“Uh... we had training this morning, and he took his armour off after that, and immediately went to follow Alban, so his armour? His sword?”

Merlin picks the sword up in careful but hurried hands. He closes his eyes, concentrating, as he mutters a quick spell. The sword shimmers for a moment before Merlin throws it back down on the bed with a huff:

“Nope, the trail is there but it’s weak, I need something more recent.”

Leon curses quietly to himself:

“Try his water goblet? Or the wash bowl? God knows that man doesn’t like to be grimy.”

Merlin hums, walking to the wash bowl before halting in his tracks:

“Wait... no, you’re right. He doesn’t like being dirty,-”

With that, Merlin changes direction, heading to the small desk in the corner and opening the draws at random, rifling through them. Leon walks up behind him:

“Merlin? What are you-”

He’s interrupted by Merlin exclaiming in victory, and straightening up. He turns around with a grin on his face, holding out a small comb:

“-he will have run a comb through his hair after washing,-”

He pulls a short, brunette hair from between the wooden teeth:

“-and an actual piece of him is WAY better to track him with than something he’s just touched.”

He repeats the spell from earlier, the smile returning to his face when he begins to feel the pull in his heart, leading him to the lost knight.

The two of them leave the room hurriedly, Leon trailing after Merlin, both of them trying to look an inconspicuous as possible.

They walk briskly down the corridor, hope and excitement blooming in their chests at the idea of finding the friend they’d been so worried about. Leon puts a hand on Merlin’s shoulder, but neither of them stop moving as he speaks lowly:

“Can you tell how far away he is?”

Merlin hums, before replying equally quietly:

“Yeah, I think he’s about... actually... no, no I can’t- what?”

With that, he stops dead in his tracks, stumbling when Leon runs into his back with a gentle “oof”. The knight looks down at him, his face back to looking panicked. They’d stopped at a crossroads in the corridor, and Merlin’s head twitches from side to side, like he can’t decide which way to go.

Leon shakes his shoulder slightly:

“Merlin, he’s been gone for hours, we need to hurry. Close your eyes, breathe, which way is Lancelot?”

Merlin does what Leon says, shuffling on his feet slightly before closing his eyes, taking a deep breath, and relaxing his shoulders:

“Where are you, Lance?”

He mutters it quietly to himself, and Leon barely dares to breathe, not wanting to distract him. After a few moments, Merlin’s head twitches to the right, the corridor that leads to the servant quarters. The servant opens his eyes, nodding briefly at Leon, before turning and walking down the corridor. 

He passes the first few doors without hesitation, thankful for the late hour; all the servants are either eating their own dinner, or serving dinner to their masters. Which is probably where Merlin should be right now, but he had more pressing matters, he could deal with Arthur later.

He slows as he reaches the end of the corridor, frowning in confusion. There are no more doors, they’ve reached a dead end, and Merlin tilts his head whilst Leon stares at him expectantly, periodically checking the corridor behind them. Merlin begins muttering to himself again, flexing his hands as if he were in pain:

“This is... wrong. I don’t come down here very often but... there’s... this is wrong. I can feel it and I can... see it, like there’s something out the corner of my eye that shouldn’t be there-”

He gasps, turning and looking at a specific part of the wall, hovering his hand over the stonework:

“-or something that should be there!”

Leon’s gaze flicks between the wall and Merlin as he quietly asks:

“A hidden door? Can you... unhide it?”

Merlin takes a second to snort and roll his eyes, before pressing his hand against the wall, muttering spells to himself. Leon turns around, hand on the hilt of his sword at his hip as he stands guard. After a few minutes of Merlin getting more and more frustrated when the wall stays... well... a wall, he finally lets out a whispered exclamation; Leon glances behind him to see the stone rippling, and finally fading to reveal the door. 

With one last check down the corridor, they enter the room slowly, shutting the door behind him. Leon whispers Lance’s name into the darkness tentatively, but Merlin just shakes his head, summoning a light.

It’s just a normal storage room filled with dusty shelves and empty crates, but Merlin moves through the debris to the back, cursing under his breath when he finds what he’s looking for. Leon moves up behind him, staring over the younger man’s shoulder to the precise symbol drawn onto the floor:

“Merls?”

Merlin huffs speaking lowly, not looking away from the symbol:

“It’s a teleportation spell, it’s why I was being pulled in two directions. Lance went through this portal, but it probably took him somewhere outside the city limits.”

Leon gulps, before taking a deep breath and gripping Merlin’s shoulder again:

“Can you activate it? Do we follow through the portal, or track him out of the city??”

Merlin shakes his head roughly:

“No, that would take far too long, we don’t actually know how long he’s been gone, it could have been all afternoon, remember? Look around, there should be a crystal or an orb or something, like a switch I have to push magic into to activate the spell.”

It only takes a few minutes of rummaging for Leon to uncover a rough looking crystal, and Merlin smiles weakly at the comically fearful look on the knight’s face as he holds it as far away from himself as he can; he may trust Merlin’s magic, but he is still logically... unnerved by things he doesn’t understand.

Merlin takes it from him, eyes turning briefly gold as he mutters an incantation and his hand is engulfed in a blue flame. The flame dies down after a few seconds at Merlin’s command, and he hides the now glowing crystal back where Leon had found it, before looking back to the symbol on the floor.

It takes only a few moments for the lines to start softly glowing, and when nothing else changes, Merlin takes a deep breath, reaching behind him blindly for Leon’s hand, and muttering:

“Well, here goes nothing.”

He feels the knight take his hand and step up next to him. With one last nervous glance to each other, they nod, and step into the circle.

~

MEANWHILE

Thankfully, whilst Lancelot hadn’t been seen in a while (on account of being camped out in the hidden storage room, waiting for his stalkee to reappear out of the weird glowy circle thing), he had only actually been kidnapped by Evil Alban the Not-Stablehand for about half a candle mark.

And he was currently very bored. The younger man finally reappeared, only to fly into a rage at the sight of another man, crouched like a gremlin, almost asleep in the corner of the entrance to his secret lair.

His eyes had flashed sickly yellow, and Lancelot found himself falling over the edge into sleep, and waking up an undetermined amount of time (like five minutes, but it was so fucking dark where he was, he had no way to guess what time of day it was) later, tied to a chair (not gagged, thankfully).

He had realised the trio’s mistake fairly early on in Evil Alban the Not-Stablehand’s monologue; something about vengeance and sins of the father and yadda yadda yadda. Honestly? He tuned it out pretty quickly, he’d heard it all before... multiple times, and he wasn’t too worried; he had faith that Merlin and Leon would arrive to rescue him soon (though he wasn’t looking forward to all the comments along the lines of “who’s the real princess?”).

It was when he almost nodded off that Alban stuttered slightly:

“...after all, surely someone who is strong enough to take the crown should... should deserve... it... are you falling asleep?!”

Lancelot’s head whips up with a quiet snort as he blinks the sleep from his eyes, and looks at the outraged criminal with guilt in his eyes:

“Uh... no? You’re doing wonderfully, Alban, very riveting, keep going.”

The knight’s words do nothing to calm the other man down, and he exclaims slightly as he stamps his foot petulantly. Lancelot bites his lip to stop himself laughing, but before he can get himself under control and say something else, Alban puffs his chest out and grins triumphantly:

“Your mind games shan’t work on me, Sir Knight. I will not be distracted by your mocking or... or distractions.”

Lancelot raises an eyebrow, but doesn’t say anything. Alban huffs, shaking his head roughly before looking back at Lancelot with wide, expectant eyes:

“Well? What do you think of my plan, noble Sir? Ineffable, no?”

Lancelot purses his lips, once again looking guilty as he chooses not to point out the younger’s misuse of the word ineffable (definitely NOT ineffable, considering he’d banged on and on for half a candle-mark):

“I don’t suppose you could... sum up the last twenty minutes or so worth of... plan? Then I could.... let you know my thoughts?”

Alban let out an inhuman screech, stamping his foot again, much to Lancelot’s hidden amusement. The Great Villain stalked off into the darkness, huffing and grumbling to himself, and Lancelot just rolled his eyes, murmuring under his breath:

“For fucks sake. Better not leave me here. Where the fuck are you guys?”

As if the Gods themselves answered the knight’s question, he hears another inhuman screech come from the darkness; though this one was a lot more high pitched, and was immediately followed by Leon’s unmistakable voice growling out:

“Where is he you pre-pubescent piece of shit?!”

Lancelot allows himself to snort at the likely look of terror on the Not-Stablehand’s face before yelling:

“Don’t make the kid shit himself Leon, if he does, you’ll be the one carrying his unconscious body back.”

He hears Merlin’s laugh and the distinct sound of a skull making contact with the hilt of a sword, before the two of them appear like ghosts, lit only by the glow of Merlin’s golden eyes, and the magical light floating between their heads.

Lancelot gives them a grin, shuffling in his binds slightly as he says:

“Took you long enough, he’s been banging on about how clever he is for fucking ages. Cut me loose, would you?”

Merlin clicks his fingers, the ropes falling the the floor as Leon checks him over for injury, and affectionately ruffling his hair, much to the other knight’s chagrin.

The three of them move to crowd around Alban’s crumpled form, hands on their hips as they stare at him, unimpressed. Lancelot sighs:

“You really didn’t have to hit him that hard, I don’t think he was that much of a threat.”

Merlin huffs and stalks off to reactivate the teleportation spell, leaving the chastising for Leon to deal with:

“Not much of a threat?! Lance no one had seen you in hours, we thought you were dead!”

Lancelot frowns and shuffles, suddenly looking apologetic:

“Ah, sorry. He took me less than a candle-mark ago, though I guess I lost track of how long I’d been sat waiting for him before that. I didn’t mean to worry you.”

Leon huffs, but drops the subject as Merlin calls back to them. The curly-hired knight picks Alban up, laying him over his shoulder like a sack of potatoes before following Lancelot in Merlin’s direction. They stand around the glowing symbol, and Lancelot rolls his eyes at Merlin’s glower:

“Oh, don’t give me that look, Mister I regularly show up after three days covered in bruises and blood with “The Tavern” as my only excuse.”

Leon snorts and Merlin rolls his eyes but smirks, and with that, the trio step into the circle, reappearing back in the storage cupboard with no one else in Camelot even vaguely aware of the mini adventure they’d had.

~

This happens for a while. Saving people (mostly Arthur) from the batshit insane things that happen in Camelot that no one but them seems to be aware of.

Of course, rumours fly about the oddly close connection the three men have. Lancelot is head over heals in love with Guinevere (which he ardently denies, despite Merlin and Leon’s repeated dramatic attempts to get them together) and everyone knows it, but even Arthur starts to (jealously) suspect something is going on between Leon and Merlin, especially when Merlin’s lack of talent when it comes to making up excuses is displayed yet again.

Leon and Merlin had been sneaking out of the castle, on their way to meet the teenage son of a noble who desperately needed to escape. Lancelot, who had a late patrol, was to meet them by one of the tunnel entrances outside the city limits, and assure that no other guards were nearby.

Unfortunately, the pair came across a sleepy King, on his way to the kitchens for a midnight snack.

The King stared at them with wide, shocked eyes, and the pair stared back. Leon grimaced slightly, and after a few moments of awkward silence, Arthur slowly asks:

“What are you two... doing?”

Leon takes a deep breath desperately trying to come up with something to say, but before he can find an excuse, Merlin pipes up:

“I was teaching him poetry.”

Leon lets out his breath before slowly covering his face with his hands as he shakes his head slightly. Merlin immediately realises his mistake and bites his lip, furrowing his eyebrows as he says:

“What I mean, is that-”

He’s cut off by Arthur holding a hand up, his face looking mildly put-off as he shakes his head:

“I don’t want to know. Yeah, I changed my mind, I really... don’t want to know.” Before turning around and heading back in the same direction he’d come from, hunger forgotten.

Merlin holds his breath until Arthur turns the corner, before letting it all out in one go and staring at the floor wide-eyed. Leon keeps his head in his hands as he mutters:

“You fucking idiot.-” before looking up at the man besides him incredulously:

“-Why??”

Merlin looks at him indignantly, and loudly whispers:

“I don’t know!! It was just the three of us in a dark corridor like last time and it just popped into my head and I said it! At least he didn’t push, I suppose.”

Leon shakes his head again, before a look of realisation crosses his face and he looks at Merlin with dread in his eyes:

“Yeah... except when you used that excuse on me- shut up, of course I knew you were lying, I’m not an idiot- I thought you and Arthur were uh... well, I thought you were sleeping together...”

Merlin’s eyes go wide and he sputters for a response before he lets out a quiet, deranged laugh, and shakes his blushing head:

“First off, no. Second off... at least he didn’t push.” he repeats. Leon squints at his friend, before he gasps and grins:

“Oh my God, you like him!-”

Merlin scowls at him, and Leon laughs gleefully (though still quietly) before whispering:

“-all this time we’ve been ribbing Lancelot about Guinevere, and we should’ve been ribbing you! Oh my God, wait ‘til Lance hears this.”

Merlin turns on him, face bright red as he angrily (or as angrily as he can, when he’s the colour of Leon’s cape, and the knight is trying not to wake the castle up with his laughter):

“I swear to God, Leon, I will turn you into a fucking toad if you breath a word to anyone! I’ll do it, I swear I’ll do it!”

Leon forces himself to breath and coughs slightly as he catches his breath, putting a hand on Merlin’s shoulder:

“Fine, fine. I won’t say anything, but only if you help me hang mistletoe up in Lance’s doorway next week.”

Merlin rolls his eyes, but nods his head with a grin, and with that, they resume their sneaking around.

~

This happens for what feels like years and years, but really, Merlin only gets one day into looking at Leon with a shit-eating grin and saying that the old man has been doing this for “decades”, when suddenly... they don’t have to do it anymore.

Arthur repeals the ban on magic. 

And to be honest, it was a complete surprise to everyone. Of course, the whole Kingdom knew that he was more tolerant than his father had ever been; he hadn’t executed anyone in years, and unless accusations were serious or life-threatening, he rarely ordered investigations.

As it turns out, he’d been working on it in secret for months, with only  Morgana’s help (not that he knew about her magic, she was just the only person in his life who’d always been vocally against the ban). All the work they’d put in meant that when it came time to present it to the council, all Arthur had to do was hold his head high and say something along the lines of “I am your King, you do this, or you lose your seat.”.

The drafts were so well-worked, so perfect, the council had nothing to argue against, no excuses worth more than a roll of the eyes and a dismissive wave of the hand.

The repeal went through seamlessly, and Arthur was announcing Merlin and Morgana as his Court Sorcerers within a week (after of course a few hours of raging at the lies and deception, in which they defended themselves and each each other with sharp tongues and entirely valid descriptions of their terror, and with Leon and Lancelot stood behind them the whole time ready to pull their swords at a moments notice).

Leon, Lancelot, and Merlin told the King about all their adventures saving his arse, which he floundered at before abashedly thanking them, but they never mentioned the now obsolete smuggling ring they had going.

Of course, there were moments when they missed the excitement of sneaking out at night, the victory of seeing a family off to the Druid’s, or to a safe village, but ultimately they were ecstatic that they weren’t needed in that capacity anymore. It was undeniably a good thing.

Their plan to keep their heroics to themselves failed miserably however, when a crowd of around two-hundred gathered in the courtyard, led by a woman in her mid-thirties who looked mighty familiar to Sir Leon.

The gang met them down there, armed and worried at first, but quickly relaxing when they realised this was the furthest to an attack a group this large could get.

The King led the party, Morgana, Elyan, Gwaine, and Percival to his left, and Merlin, Leon, and Lancelot to his right, Guinevere and Gaius waiting by the castle entrance. It was only when Lancelot gasped, and grabbed Merlin and Leon’s sleeves to point at a specific family near the front of the crowd that they understood. All these people, all these happy, joyful, alive people... were people they’d saved over the years.

The three of them gulped, suddenly teary as more and more of the crowd pointed their way, wide smiles on their faces. They knew that this wasn’t even half the people they had saved (if you include Leon’s sixteen years doing it alone), but still, it was astounding to visually see it.

The familiar woman stepped forward at Arthur’s gesture, and the trio suddenly realise what’s about to happen. “Oh shit.” and variants of the above are muttered by all three as they wait with baited breath. There’s not really anything they can do to stop this:

“Your Highness, firstly I would like to thank you, for accepting my people back into your Kingdom-”

Her voice quietens slightly as she glances to the floor, her eyes filling with tears before she looks up again:

“-many of us haven’t been home in... in a long time, and it’s good to be back.-”

Arthur nods, giving her a smile despite his still growing confusion at the crowd behind her. The woman looks quickly to Leon, giving him a brief smile as he gasps, recognising her. She looks back to the King, raising her voice and her head as she continues:

“-Secondly, I would like to extend an even greater thank-you to Sir Leon, and his two companions, without whom many of us would have died. They risked their lives sneaking us out of the city when your father hunted us, and after, when we were still at risk of execution, but they never stopped, and never gave up. We are but a fraction of the hundreds of people they saved, and we have nothing to offer them but our unending gratitude, and a humble demand that they are rewarded for their service to Camelot’s people. They are heroes to us all, and always will be”

Arthur looks slowly over to a very teary Leon, who doesn’t even glance his way as he stares at the former servant-girl, a weak smile on his face. Merlin and Lancelot meet The King’s gaze in his stead, smiling sheepishly and shrugging as they nod, confirming the woman’s story.

Arthur shakes his head minutely, half proud of his friends, and half annoyed at being caught off guard, before turning back to the woman, the smile back on his face:

“I’m glad to welcome you home, all of you, and I apologise that it took so long for me to right the wrongs committed by this Kingdom. Sir Leon and his companions will indeed be rewarded for their service,-”

At this, Arthur turns to look at the trio, a soft, meaningful smile on his face as he nods at them:

“-and I extend my thanks to them also, for being brave enough to protect my people, when I was not.”

Leon finally meets The King’s gaze, and returns his nod. Merlin and Lancelot each clap him on the back, before the three of them descend into the crowd. A loud cheer goes up around the courtyard, the rest of the knights, Morgana, and Guinevere looking on in shock as the trio greets person after person, accepting thanks and hugs and laughing joyously at the reminder of the good they’d done, despite their fear.

~

THE END!!

I really loved writing this one😄! Honestly this idea started out as crack, but I’m glad that it ended so wholesomely :)

Same as usual lads, someone wants to write it up properly or extend it, go for it, credit and tag me ✌️

[thequackcity]

Quackity and Schlatt’s Relationship - More Complicated Then You Think

(this is all /rp and about the characters from the dream smp! pls assume i have the dignity not to write analysis of youtubers)

recently there was a bit of discourse surrounding the relationship between Quackity and Schlatt floating around on tumblr. tho i never saw the original post that sparked the conversation, i did see a few posts that were inspired by it mentioning how they disliked that the original post implied that Quackity and Schlatt were mutually abusive and/or equally bad for each other 

since i never saw the original post, i can't be sure if that's what the op meant to imply. it's not really my place to speak about a post that i never got the chance to read. BUT the conversation that was caused by the post in question did get me thinking about how this fandom treats the relationship between Quackity and Schlatt and how little nuance there is in discussions about it

now before i say anything else, i want to make a few things clear:

i don't think Quackity and Schlatt’s relationship is mutually abusive. no need to worry about hearing that from this post

i don't look down on ppl who have different interpretations of their relationship

there will be potentially triggering content in this analysis. i will place a quick warning whenever i think one is needed!

their relationship is romantic in canon and therefore i’ll be treating it as romantic

alright now that we’ve gotten all of that out of the way, we can finally get on with the analysis! i apologize for how long this is gonna be

part 1: let's talk relationship!

i think we can all agree that Quackity and Schlatt’s relationship was not exactly a healthy one. tho it didn't start out that way, it certainly turned into what could be read as abusive or toxic (i personally read their relationship as being abusive in its later half due to evidence provided by the text, but i understand if others prefer to view it as just toxic instead)

but what happened that led to their partnership ending so badly? what caused all of this mess?

well, it was a lot of things. but we will get to that later. let's talk relationship first!

from the very beginning, Quackity and Schlatt’s relationship was pretty one-sided. tho they both clearly liked each other as friends/partners in crime both before and after the election (yes they did interact before the election!) Quackity was also interested in Schlatt romantically- something that Schlatt wasn't fully committed to

as we all know from the infamous date stream and from a few other moments, Quackity and Schlatt enjoyed playfully flirting with each other- tho it was pretty obvious that Quackity was more serious about it then Schlatt was even tho Schlatt considered Quackity to be very attractive

in my opinion, Quackity is someone who wants a long term relationship, while Schlatt is more interested in flings. this can be seen in Schlatt refusing to marry Quackity and rejecting most of his advances while Quackity tried his best to convince him to feel otherwise. Tommy put it best: Quackity is just one of Schlatt’s many bitches U_U

to Quackity, the romantic aspect of their relationship was very important. because Schlatt never actually shot him down or told him that he didn't feel the same way, Quackity took that to mean that they were truly in love. Schlatt on the other hand wasn't very invested in the romantic side of things but clearly valued Quackity’s looks and his support as an ally against Pogtopia so he never fully rejected Quackity’s advances

this might not seem like too big of a deal considering the other things that happened between them, but i think it shows part of the nature of their relationship. there is a lot of miscommunication and, on Schlatt’s end, manipulation of emotions. love is a strong motivator for loyalty and Schlatt is a smart guy who would know how to use that to his advantage

but that isn't to say that Schlatt didn't ever care about Quackity!

Schlatt is a complicated guy and figuring out when he's actually being genuine can be pretty difficult. but i think there are some moments that point to Schlatt genuinely caring about Quackity

when he was alive, Schlatt was pretty paranoid. not as paranoid as Wilbur, but certainly up there. but there were never any times where he truly questioned Quackity’s loyalties after his first day as president. Schlatt also seemed truly upset that Quackity betrayed him, bringing up their status as partners in crime while ranting about how much it hurt him and singling Quackity out while talking about how he had been abandoned during his time of need

Schlatt also spent a lot of time sulking after Quackity betrayed him and whining to Ponk about needing a new bitch. this is in contrast to how angry he was after Tubbo betrayed him- both during and after the execution

there is also the situation with the Big Man Gym 

after being dead for a while, Schlatt contacted Quackity despite them leaving off on bad terms and asked for him to visit him in his cave gym. when Quackity showed up, Schlatt talked about how he valued their relationship and the good times they had together. tho this can easily be seen as emotional manipulation, Schlatt’s a lot smarter than he seems and- if he doesnt have memory issues due to being a ghost- would know that Quackity’s opinion of him was in the dump at the time of his death and most likely wouldn't have improved since then. Fundy has a higher opinion of Schlatt than Quackity does and is someone who obviously craves validation. but Schlatt went to Quackity first anyway and trusted him to help revive him

i think that this is all good evidence that points towards Schlatt truly caring about Quackity as much as someone like Schlatt can care about anyone- or at least valuing him as a companion

i also think that it is pretty common knowledge that Quackity cared about Schlatt- and possibly still does- but i will go over a bit of evidence that i haven’t already mentioned before we move on to the next part

Quackity tried multiple times to impress Schlatt (like when he lied about knowing how to play chess), would attempt to help Schlatt when he was drowning in water, sadly said that they could have had something together while Schlatt was dying in the caravan, and implied that he wouldn’t have left if Schlatt hadn’t taken down the white house. Quackity also willingly went to the Big Man Gym after being summoned there by Schlatt and wanted to revive him long before the revive book became part of the story

part 2: what made it fall apart?

everything i've said so far has been pretty interesting (hopefully) but it doesn't really answer the original question: what went wrong to turn Schlatt and Quackity’s mainly positive partnership sour?

well it comes down to two things in my opinion: their incompatible desires for political power and Schlatt’s deteriorating mental state

Quackity wanted political power from the beginning and wasn't afraid to be open about his desires. he pooled his votes with Schlatt because Schlatt offered him the position of vice president, something Wilbur and Tommy weren’t willing to give to him. tho Quackity obviously cared about L’Manburg and wanted to see good things for it, he also desired power and was willing to team up with someone he didn't fully agree with to get said power

at 32:40 in this video, Quackity talks about how in politics everyone uses everyone so it's alright if Schlatt is using him. he then talks about how he doesn't want to be a man with no power and how he understands that Schlatt’s main goal is also gaining/keeping power. Quackity also shows a bit of his naughty evil side by saying if he overthrows Schlatt then the fun ends too early! 

(side note: these two are pretty evenly matched in intelligence and manipulativeness, i love it!) 

it's a bit of a fandom misconception that Quackity was a love sick yes man during the Manburg era. tho Quackity did want to please Schlatt and was in love with him, he didn't shy away from standing up to or disagreeing with Schlatt when he believed it was needed

at around 26:12 of this video, Quackity and Schlatt meet together in private and Quackity tells Schlatt off for playing down his role in the power structure of Manburg. since this was very early in Schlatt’s reign, Quackity shows no fear towards him and confidently tells him not to treat him like that

Quackity also broke Niki out of jail after regretting letting her be put there in the first place, tried to convince Schlatt to not execute Tubbo, jumped in front of Fundy when Schlatt tried to attack him, tried to stop Schlatt from tearing down buildings, and attempted to protect the white house he built from being destroyed by Schlatt. these are not behaviors of a pure yes man but of someone who, despite fear, has the confidence to speak up for himself even when disrespected by someone in authority

Quackity has always been someone who wanted power and someone who was never a yes man to authority. this contradicts with how Schlatt believed Quackity should act as vice president. in Schlatt’s opinion, Quackity’s one job is to sit around looking pretty while Schlatt does all of the important things and holds all of the power. Schlatt was a big fan of promoting people to worthless positions of authority and its pretty obvious that he considered vice president to be similar to the fake positions he gave Fundy and Tubbo 

in the end, this was a big part of what destroyed their relationship. like it or not, Quackity’s a power hungry guy and always has been. he didn't like that Schlatt constantly shoved him aside and refused to listen to him

now onto the nasty bit...Schlatt’s mental state

cw for mentions of alcoholism, mental deterioration, and abusive behavior  

before i say anything more, i just want to say that i don't think having issues with alcoholism makes someone a bad person. i personally have some issues with such things so it would be pretty stupid of me to say being an alcoholic makes you a bad person. alcoholism does negatively affect your cognitive functions tho and, combined with other health issues, can cause some of the very serious mental problems that Schlatt clearly struggles with

throughout the Manburg era, Schlatt’s mental state rapidly deteriorated. he went from a pretty normal- if eccentric- guy who had a drinking problem, to someone who was delirious most of the time. it's a sharp and noticeable decline that caused a lot of pain for Quackity due to Schlatt often taking his excess aggression out on him by yelling at him and/or belittling him. tho Schlatt often belittled Quackity before he went fully off of the deep end, it was never as aggressive as it was when he was in this delirious state of mind

it was during one of Schlatt’s most aggressive and delirious moments that he tore down the white house despite Quackity’s protests. as we all know, this caused Quackity to snap and kill Schlatt (it's more complicated than that but we will get back to that). as mentioned previously, Quackity implied that he would have stayed with Schlatt if the white house hadn’t been destroyed

in my opinion, these two things combined are the biggest reasons why Quackity and Schlatt’s relationship fell apart. their differing desires for power were not compatible and Schlatt’s awful behavior while his mental state declined caused a rift between them that couldn't be fixed

part 3: how toxic was it really?

cw for emotional and physical abuse 

as i said all the way back in part one, Quackity and Schlatt’s relationship was not healthy. i have provided many examples in the other two parts that shine a light onto why it wasn't healthy, but i didn't show the entire picture

there are many moments that show exactly how Schlatt treated Quackity when he was acting at his worst and none of them are pretty. tho Schlatt was never truly aggressive with his insults until he started to go off of the deep end, that doesn't mean that what he said wasn't negatively affecting Quackity

Schlatt would belittle, insult, and mock Quackity for his appearance not being up to his standards, for his opinions, and for being emotional in ways that Schlatt disapproved of like crying. tho Schlatt would often brush off Quackity’s reactions towards this cruel behavior, it's very clear that Schlatt’s treatment of him has stuck with Quackity in many ways

Quackity is very sensitive about his appearance and it seems to be because of how badly Schlatt hurt his self esteem during their time together. Schlatt tied Quackity’s worth to his appearance and then would claim he wasn't meeting his standards of attractiveness. we can tell that this has stuck with Quackity because of his sensitivity towards people bringing up the scar on his face (something that greatly alters his physical appearance) and he still reacts very badly when Schlatt calls him the mocking nickname flatty patty

speaking of flatty patty- that stupid insult shockingly has a lot of weight in Quackity’s relationship with Schlatt. tho its something the audience is meant to laugh at, the nickname also shows just how little Schlatt respects Quackity because he's constantly throwing it around just to make Quackity upset. Schlatt’s last words are flatty patty all because he wanted to get in one last dig at his ex and ruin Quackity’s day even further 

Schlatt tends to do a lot of things that are intended to make Quackity upset. tearing down the room Quackity made for him in the white house is the biggest example of this- especially since Schlatt mentions how it will upset Quackity while he does it. you can see this moment at around 19:10 of this video

and now let's get into the elephant in the room when it comes to these two: Quackity was scared of Schlatt. tho we never really see Schlatt hit or attack Quackity physically outside of their confrontation at the white house or their confrontation in the caravan, these clips imply that Quackity was at the very least scared of Schlatt physically harming him in some way 

as for actually physically harming him, Schlatt hits Quackity multiple times with a pickaxe and with his fists during their white house fight. Quackity hits Schlatt a couple times too, tho these are all primarily defensive blows since he is trying to protect himself and his property. he also chases after Quackity with a bow after Quackity’s plan to trick him into signing Manburg over to the Pogtopians fails and hits him multiple times during the caravan confrontation

all of this evidence shows that Schlatt was an abusive (or at least toxic) partner towards Quackity and someone who greatly affected him in many ways

tho Quackity did a few questionable things throughout his relationship with Schlatt (such as trying to get Schlatt to have sex with him despite Schlatt not being interested as shown in the later half of this video) and did some downright morally wrong things during his time as vice president of Manburg, no one deserves the pain of an abusive relationship- even a person who has done bad things

as a brief side note before we move on because i know people will bring it up if i skip over it, Quackity did- and most likely still does- want to literally possess Glatt. he brought up reviving Schlatt and using him as a political pawn after Schlatt’s funeral and during their conversation at the Big Man Gym Quackity talked about owning Glatt and having him work at Las Nevadas with no pay

this is unsettling behavior to say the least but this essay isnt about the aftermath of their relationship so much as it is about their relationship when it was actually happening. maybe i will make another post talking more about how Quackity’s relationship with Schlatt affected him even after Schlatt’s death and/or about Quackity’s relationship with Glatt

part 4: final thoughts

i’m not exactly sure why the nuances in Schlatt and Quackity’s relationship get lost when it comes to the fandom, but it’s pretty disappointing to see. hopefully this essay can help people take a closer look at canon and maybe even help them find something interesting that they’d want to explore!

tho the point of this essay is to clear up any misconceptions and hopefully add some nuance to the conversations surrounding Schlatt and Quackity’s relationship, i also wrote it in hopes of showing people how fascinating these two partners in crime were back in the Manburg days. i didn’t cover everything but i think i did a pretty good job for my first analysis post in the dsmp fandom

also since you read to the end, i must say thank you! it really does means a lot to me that you did. i hope you enjoyed and maybe even learned something. this post can be used as a resource if anyone wants to use it as such

here’s a tiny devil Quackity for your troubles <3

[thegryffindorprincess]

Unforgettable//Draco Malfoy x Reader (SMUT)

A/N: Hi Lovelies! Working through my requests and stuff one at a time and love this one! Draco’s a little OOC, but it’s saucy and smutty and that’s all you Draco whores are here for, also including some platonic hermione x reader, enjoy x

Set: Golden Trio Era

Word Count: 2,002

Warnings: smut, drinking, swearing, choking

“It’s not good enough for me, since I’ve been with you” 

“One fire whiskey on ice for you my love.” Draco grinned, passing Astoria the plastic cup from the table he’d just filled with her favourite drink, producing the ice from the tip of his wand. She giggled and settled into his side, letting his arm fall around her shoulders lazily. He would’ve like to say the way they stood, pressed together felt right, but it didn’t. Her bones didn’t quite slot into his properly and he stood a little awkwardly under her touch. Never the less, Draco placed a kiss to her forehead and observed the scene. Slytherin always held the best parties, that was common knowledge, especially for celebrations like OWLs. The room was decorated in silver, the streamers and balloons glistening in the pale light that always glowed from the chandeliers hanging from the ceiling. Every student from the fifth and fourth year was attending, not wanting to miss out on a chance to celebrate properly before school and life became much more serious. As Draco and Astoria took their seats on one of the emerald green sofa’s, students began to dance, Blaise tapping his wand to the speaker positioned above the fire place, letting muggle music boom around the room. He attempted to shake off the longing looks coming from some other girls in the room, Pansy attempting to catch his gaze from the dance floor, Sally-Ann twirling her fingers in her hair at the drinks table and Tracy who was trying hard, too hard, to make eye contact with him from the sofa opposite. Draco simply kept his eyes pinned to the entrance way to the common room, as a distraction. Astoria was pining over him at his side, drawing his eyes away from the door to pull him into a kiss. As she did so, he heard the door open and most of the chat that had been filling the room stop suddenly. He glanced up to see Y/N, Hermione, Harry and Ron enter the common room, laughing amungst themselves. Everyone began to whisper or discuss in hushed voices how incredible Y/N Y/L/N looked tonight, as the four of them stepped in confidently, smiling at each other at their impression. 

“Wow.” Tracy Davis exclaimed spinning back round in her seat to face Draco and his gang who were all looking over at her, “she looks incredible.” Draco simply hummed through his lips, face blank. He watched closely as the golden foursome walked over to the drinks table, pouring their chosen beverage into plastic cups, Hermione making the ice swirl into intricate patterns in their drinks. The chat soon returned to normal, giggles errupting from corners of the room every few minutes. Draco sat with his hands pressed together, finger tips resting on his chin, watching Y/N’s every move. You see, the reason all of this was pissing him off, causing his face to knit into a scowl was because it had only been two months since they’d stopped seeing eachother, Y/N spinning him some bullshit about how she needed to focus on the golden trio and not him. And well, nobody rejects Draco Malfoy. He’d tried in the beginning to win her back, leaving her expensive gifts outside her door, persuading some first year minions to send her letters on his behalf, all of which she’d rejected. Then it turned nasty. Draco ended up fucking half of the girls in slytherin, attempting to make her come and talk to him, even if it turned into an argument. But she didn’t, she simply scoffed when Goyle would shout about loud Draco and Pansy’s sex was in their dorm room, roll at eyes at the hickeys adorning Sally-Ann’s neck and laugh with Hermione about his persuit of Tracy. What pissed him off the most though was how completely unbothered Y/N was acting, as if they’d never even spoken before. 

“Draco what’re you staring at?” Astoria asked, Draco suddenly becoming aware that his eyes were burning holes in Y/N, his gaze unbreaking. 

“Nothing.” He responded blankly. “Nothing important at all.”

XXX

Y/N held Hermione’s hands in hers as they danced on the floor together, being some of the only students who recognised the muggle songs that were playing. She loved when Hermione got drunk, her usual up-tight personality disappearing revealing a very care free one instead. Y/N herself could feel the alcohol rushing to her head as she twirled her best friend round in a circle below her, Hermione bursting into a fit of giggles when their hands became twisted and got stuck in an awkward position. 

“I am going to go to the toilet.” Hermione suddenly announced, unlinking her arms from Y/N’s and staggering away towards the stairs.

“Hang on a minute,” Y/N said, following her giggling, “I’ll accompany you.” Hermione nodded quickly, holding Y/N’s hand as they climbed the marble staircase up towards the girls toilets. 

“Such a good friend to me.” Hermione slurred as Y/N opened the toilet door for her, promising to hold it closed from outside for her. She laughed at Hermione’s drunk clinginess, listening to her babbling’s from the hallway. Just as she got comfortable a hand holding the door firmly shut, she heard footsteps coming in her direction.

“Sorry, the toilets occupied, you might have to wait.” She called out. To her slight shock, Draco appeared at the top of the stair case, gaze magnetic, jaw clenched. “Oh.” Y/N murmmered, awkwardly looking down towards her feet, the music from the common room still pounding the walls of the hallway. 

“That’s not a very polite way to greet me Y/L/N” Draco smirked, watching how Y/N still crumbled a little under his stare. “Problem?”

“Not at all, just wondering what you want with me.” Y/N shrugged her shoulders, unbothered. He stepped closer.

“Just wanted a chat.” She swallowed as he moved increasingly closer, his cologne already making her throat close. 

“Thought you were a bit busy for a chat.” Y/N grimaced, moving closer to the wall and further from him. “You know, you look a bit busy chatting with Astoria,” She sent him a warning look “and Pansy and Tracy and Sally-Ann.” Draco chuckled at her feisty tone. 

“Jealous?” He teased, twirling his family ring around on his finger, looking darkly at her through his eyelashes. 

“Hardly.” She scoffed. But he could tell she was lying from the way she couldn’t meet his eyes. 

“Well you might be pleased to know,” Draco began closing the gap between them with a few large strides, one of his pale hands coming up to stroke her cheek, “It’s not good enough for me, since I’ve been with you.” Just as Y/N went to respond, Hermione ermerged from the bathroom. She awkwardly glanced at the situation, mouth opening and closing like a fish before walking back wards towards the stairs. 

“I-I’m gonna go,” She stammered, turning and running down the staircase, “I think I heard Ron calling for me.” Both Draco and Y/N watched her leave, Y/N cursing her best friend for not taking her with her. 

“Where were we?” Draco began again, his hand returning to her cheek. “Oh yes,” He moved his head closer towards hers, her breath getting caught in her throat, “and it’s not going to work for you either, this stupid arrangement.” Y/N scoffed again, this time rolling her eyes.

“Oh yeah? And why’s that?” This time, Draco’s hand trailed it’s way from her cheek to her throat, squeezing just gently enough that she began to squirm. 

“Because nobody can equal me.” Then he closed the gap, his lips pushing against hers, causing her to moan slightly as his teeth bit on her bottom lip. “No more games princess,” he cooed, “tell me what you want.” Y/N grabbed onto his back needily, moving closer to his ear so that she could whisper in it. 

“Just fuck me Malfoy, you know it’s what we both need.” He growled then, attacking her neck with his mouth, carrying her on his front down the hallway to his dorm room, opening the door effortlessly with his free hand. He barged into the room, striding straight to his bed, laying her down roughly, so that her legs were dangling off of the edge and she was on her back. Draco growled again when her dress rode up just high enough so that her panties poked out underneath, his dick hardening with every new inch of flesh he got to see. 

“Fuck.”  He breathed out, watching how she squirmed every time his finger tip touched a new part of her body. He took off her dress, discarding it carelessly to the floor, unbothered about where it went. Then, he hooked his fingers in her thong and yanked it down, watching how she gasped when the cold air from the room hit her. He grinned as he stroked her slit with his fingers, making her let out a string of profantities and his name. “God, say my name again princess.” He hissed as he inserted a finger inside of her, pumping it in and out roughly.

“Draco!” Y/N exclaimed, eyes squished closed as he inserted a second finger into her pussy, She moaned loudly as he sped up, his other hand coming up to her clit, rubbing it in a way that made her hands shoot to his hair, pulling at it. “Don’t stop,” She cooed, making eye contact with him finally, “please don’t let it stop.” He grinned at her pleading but complied, continuing his movements until her shaking legs gave way, her cum wetting his fingers. He pulled them out after her climax before placing them into his mouth, sucking them clean. 

“Sweeter than honey.” He announced, standing up and pulling her so that he was above her. She simply whined as he undid his belt swiftly, pulling out his cock, letting it spring free. “God,” He whispered as he lined himself up with her entrance, “nobody takes this cock like you do.” Draco pushed himself in, making her hiss with pleasure as she took him. He began to thrust into her, the slight curve of his dick hitting the spot inside of her that made her writhe in pure pleasure. “None of those stupid little whores take this cock as good as you princess.” He muttered into her ear as one of his hands came up to snake around her throat, his mouth peppering kisses on her forehead. “Whose my best girl?”

“Me!” Y/N moaned out, feeling his dick reach places that nobody else could, no matter how hard they tried. “I’m yours Draco, I’m yours.” He grunted out at her words, never so pleased to hear the phrase. He continued to hit her G spot over and over again causing her legs to start shaking again. “Dray I’m gonna-”

“I know, I know, let it princess.” He cooed at her gently, moving a strand of hair out of her face as it contorted into an “O” shape. Her legs began to vigorously shake then and Draco could feel her walls tightening around him. “Oh shit, I love you Dray, I love you.” She cried as he felt her cum. He growled into her ear at her tightness, letting his thrusts become sloppy inside of her. 

“I love you too.” He moaned into her ear as she felt his cum release inside of her all at once, causing him to collapse on top of her in exhaustion. Y/N sighed happily as he moved off of her to fall at her side. “Can’t believe you spent two months ignoring me just to tell me you love me.” He smirked, fake gasping when she began swatting his arm. 

“You said it back after fucking half of slytherin.” Y/N replied defensively, melting into his arms as Draco pulled the covers over them, snaking his arms around her waist, pulling her into him, kissing her neck gently. 

“Yes but nobody compares to you Y/N, never will.” Draco whispered gently, feeling any tension in Y/N’s body melt underneath him. “You are absolutely unforgettable.” 

[waitimcomingtoo]

Oh Brother

Pairing: Peter Parker x Flash’s sister!reader

Requested by @forlaughingoutl0ud : Peter has a crush on you, despite how much your brother torments him

Masterlist

Flash was known to torment Peter.

You, being Flash’s sister, were known to defend Peter from your brothers antics.

“Morning, Penis Parker.” Flash came up to Peter at his locker. “What did you have for breakfast this morning? Food stamps?”

Before Peter could respond, you appeared behind Flash and grabbed his ear.

“Ow! Ow ow ow ow!” He whined as you pulled him by the ear, dragging him away from Peter. Peter watched you with a smile as you dragged your brother away.

“Let’s go.” You sighed. “If you’re late to homeroom, Mrs. Weiss is gonna send a note home. Again.”

It was an every day occurrence.

“Nice shoes, Parker.” Flash snorted. “Dumpster diving is so amazing these days, isn’t it?”

“Oh my God, you’re so funny.” You whipped around in your seat and narrowed your eyes at your brother. “Tell us another one. Please?”

He liked it to keep it consistent.

“Can anyone tell me what this number is?” Your teacher asked as she wrote the digits of Pi, 3.14, on the board.

“It’s Parker’s annual income.” Flash called out, earning a few laughs.

“Why is it that no one ever wants to hear you speak and yet you’re always talking?” You piped up in Peters defense. The class “ooed” at your comeback and Peter smiled shyly to himself.

“Whatever.” Flash scoffed. “You look fat today.”

“I’m sorry, Peter.” You directed your attention to Peter. “He’s a little cranky this morning.”

“It’s okay.” He smiled sheepishly. You smiled back and shot him a wink before turning around in your seat.

And that was when Peter realized he was whipped for you.

“Can anyone tell me what an impulse is?” The teacher asked the class one day. “Yes, Flash?”

“It’s something you really want to do and have no control over.” Flash answered. “Like when I give Peter a wedgie during gym class, I did it on an impulse. That means I can’t be held responsible.”

“No.” The teacher signed. “Can anyone else tell me what it is? Yes, Peter?”

“A change in momentum.” Peter said, just a little smugly. “Ft equals mv minus mu.”

“Thank you, Peter.” The teacher smiled. “That’s right.”

“I was technically also right.” Flash spoke up. “You didn’t specify what context it was in.”

“This is a physics class.” You laughed. “That’s your context.”

“Whatever. You don’t have to defend him just because he has a giant crush on you.” Flash shot back and the class reacted accordingly. It was common knowledge that Peter had feelings for you and Flash liked to use that to his advantage.

“What? No I don’t.” Peter stammered. “That would be stupid.”

“Why would it be stupid?” You looked at him curiously, sending a flush across his face.

“Ladies and gentlemen. Can we get back to the lesson, please?” Your teacher asked through a tight smile. “You three can sort this out in your free time.”

“Lucky for us, Peter never has anything but free time.” Flash taunted. “Being poor really opens up your schedule.”

“Leave him alone, Eugene.” You snapped. “This is why mom doesn’t love you.”

“She does too!” Flash took the bait. “You’re the adopted one.”

“I know.” You shrugged smugly. “Our parents chose me. You were just an unfortunate accident.”

“My existence is not unfortunate.” He stated.

“Aren’t you a Gemini?” You raised an eyebrow.

“Yes.” He said.

I’m a Gemini too I’m so sorry

“Then yeah, it is.” You scrunched your nose. The class stopped laughed at Peter and directed their attention to Flash. Peter looked at you in amazement and you winked at him.

“Thompsons.” The teacher interrupted. “I want you out of this class. Both of you. Now.”

You glared at your brother angrily as you grabbed your bag and headed towards the door.

“This is all your fault.” He growled at you as he opened the door.

“Oh, please.” Your argument was muffled as you made your way down the hallway.

Peter’s leg bounced in anticipation as he waited for the bell to ring, springing out of his seat as soon as it did. He immediately went to your locker, where you were busy putting your books away. Peter took a deep breath before he approached you, nervously making the first move.

“Hey.” He spoke up, making you turn your head in his direction. You shot him a smile that heated his entire face up.

“Hey, Peter.” You greeted. “Did I miss anything fun in physics?”

“Not really.” He shrugged. “Unless you like learning about momentum.”

“You know what, Peter? I can’t say I do.” You chuckled as you took a notebook out of your locker.

“Thanks for sticking up for me before. I’m sorry you got kicked out of class.”

“Don’t be sorry.” You shook your head and shut your locker. “It was totally worth it to put Flash in his place. Plus, I’m totally gonna dip his toothbrush in the toilet later. Walk with me.”

He began to walk with you out of school and in the direction of the residential buildings.

“Do siblings do that?” He wondered. “I’m an only child.”

“Are you? You’re so lucky.” You sighed. “Do you know how many times I’ve fallen into the toilet because he left the seat up?”

“Yeah, thats never happened to me.” He laughed gently. “I take it you guys don’t get along.”

“It’s weird with siblings.” You shrugged. “One minute we hate each other, the next minute we’re talking about the stupid games we used to play on long car rides. There’s no way to describe it.”

“I can’t imagine living with him. It’s hard enough to spend 8 hours a day with him. No offense.” He added quickly.

“None taken.” You smiled at him. “It’s not fun to live with him. The amount of times I’ve walked into the bathroom after him and choked on his body spray is unacceptable. I think he’s trying to kill me.”

“I would be very upset if he did that.” Peter said softly.

“Did what?”

“Killed you.” He looked at you and held your gaze for a moment. You smiled shyly at each other before looking straight ahead.

“What did you mean before when you said it would be stupid to have a crush on me?” You wondered out loud.

“Oh, I don’t know.” Peter rubbed the back of his neck. “Flash has just been bullying me since first grade. It would be stupid if the girl I decided to pine after was his sister.”

“I don’t think that would be stupid.” You shrugged as you snuck a glance at him. Peter blinked in surprise as he made eye contact with you. You both stopped, standing alone in an alleyway now.

“You…you don’t?” He looked at you shyly.

“Not at all.” You shook your head slowly as you took a step closer to him. Peter looked at his shoes for a moment as he gathered some courage, just enough to do what he’d been meaning to do for years now.

“Would you wanna go out sometime then?” He blurted. “Like, on a date?”

“I’d love to.” You smiled. “You still have my number from that group project right?”

“Yeah.” He nodded, still swimming from the fact your said yes.

“Then you should text me.”

“I will.” He promised.

“Good. I have to walk back to school before Flash notices I’m gone. I’ll be waiting for that text.” You winked at him and he let out a flustered laugh. You took this as an opportunity to lean forward and press a kiss to his cheek, feeling his skin heat up beneath your lips. You pulled away and squeezed his hand before leaving him alone in the alley.

Yeah, he was definitely whipped.

“Penis Parker.” Flash slammed an open hand against the lockers next to Peter the following day. “Do you want to tell me why I kept seeing your name on my sister phone last night? Why were you texting her? Are you trying to colonize my families bloodline or something? No white men allowed.”

“What? And no.” Peters face heated up at the accusation. “We’re just friends.”

“You don’t have friends.” Flash snapped.

“Yes he does.” You appeared behind your brother and pushed him lightly. “That’ll be all, thank you.”

Flash narrowed his eyes at you before returning his attention to Peter.

“If you go near my sister again, I’m gonna turn your innie belly button into an outie.” Flash whispered.

“How?” Peter asked with genuine curiosity.

“You don’t want to find out.” He said through gritted teeth before storming away.

“He’s so annoying.” You rolled your eyes and leaned against Peters locker. “You look cute today.”

“Thanks.” Peter chuckled shyly as he looked down at his outfit. “I, um, I have a dilemma.”

“Is this about our date?” You worried.

“It’s just, your family is rich and my family is just me and my aunt. I know Flash makes a lot of jokes about me being poor, but they’re not really jokes.” He explained sheepishly. “I don’t think I can give you the kind of magical date you deserve.”

“Peter, I don’t need a fancy date. I just want to be with you.” You assured him as you stroked his cheek. “Why don’t you bring your favorite snack and I’ll bring my favorite drink and we can lay on top of your building and stargaze?”

“That sounds kinda perfect.” He admitted with a sly smile.

“Does tonight work?” You asked hopefully.

“Yeah.” He nodded. “I’ll text you my address.”

“Okay. I’ll see you in Physics.” You squeezed his hand before walking away.

You walked into your living room that night, all dressed up for your date. You stopped in front of a mirror to check your makeup, accidentally catches Flash’s eye.

“You look nice.” Flash said as his eyes flicked from you to his phone. “But you know, prostitution is still illegal in New York. It’s a damn shame, though. Sex work is still work.”

“You know, every once in a while, something intelligent comes out of your mouth. Gives me goosebumps every time.” You teased him as you applied your lipgloss.

“Wait, where are you going?” He put his phone down. “It’s a Wednesday night.”

“I’m going to a friends building to look at the stars.” You told him most of the truth.

“Are you walking there?”

“Yeah.” You shrugged. “It’s not that far.”

“Let me drive you. You have your mace on you, right?” He asked from the kitchen as he grabbed his keys.

“Always.”

“Okay.” He reappeared with his keys. “Let’s go.”

You kept light conversation as you drove to Peters apartment building, careful not to reveal who you were meeting. Flash parked out front and looked at the building in disdain.

“Your friend lives here?” He grimaced. “Is she poor?”

“Shut up. Those jokes aren’t nice.” You shoved him lightly. “Thanks for driving me.”

“It’s okay.” He nodded. “Text me when I should pick you up.”

“I will. Get home safe.” You told him as you got out of the car.

“Whatever. Don’t get pregnant.” He pointed at you. “I mean it.”

“Drive away.” You rolled your eyes as you shut the car door. You walked into the lobby and found the elevator, letting out a nervous breath as you got in. You were standing in from of Peters door in no time, anxiously waiting for him to open it.

Finally, he did.

“Are you ready to stargaze?” You asked as you held up a jug of apple juice.

“Are you ready to eat this entire box of goldfish?” Peter responded as he held up a carton of goldfish.

“You know it.” You laughed and grabbed his hand. “Let’s go.”

An hour later, you were lying on your backs in opposite directions with your heads pressed together, staring up at the stars.

“I don’t think there’s anything more beautiful than a night sky.” You sighed in content.

“I know something.” Peter looked at you, though you were upside down from his perspective.

“If you say me, I’m going kick you in the throat.” You laughed as you looked at him.

“Why?” He laughed as well.

“I don’t know.” You covered your face with your hands. “I’m not good with compliments. I don’t know how to respond.”

Peter turned his head so he was looking at you, eyes trailing over your side profile.

“I think you’re beautiful.” He told you, loving the way it made your draw drop. You rolled onto your side and looked at him before rolled on top. You rested your arms on either side of his face, admiring his face in the starlight, even if it was upside down. Your eyes flickered from his lips to his eyes and before he knew it, you were kissing him. He tilted his chin up so he could kiss you back, finding the position a little awkward as your nose bumped his chin. You both giggled into the kiss before continuing, only breaking away when you needed air. You flipped back on your back and let out a happy sigh, covering your face with your hand to hide your smile.

“That’s one way to respond.” Peter joked, breaking the silence. You laughed and rolled onto your side, him doing the same.

“I really like you.” You admitted, scrunching your nose at how weird it felt to say out loud.

“I really like you too.” Peter told you before leaning in for another kiss.

And that was the beginning of your relationship. You both knew Flash could not find out that you were dating, at least not yet. You had to cave and tell him you and Peter were friends around your second month of dating after he caught him in your room, but you didn’t tell him the full extent of your relationship. You disguised dates as casual hangouts, to which Flash heavily objected. He made his disliking for your “friendship” with Peter known.

“Ugh. You two.” Flash grumbled when he came into the kitchen to find you and Peter making cookies. You gave Peter a pointed look that told him to ignore your brother as Flash got food out of the pantry.

“Cracker.” He looked at Peter with a box of snacks in his hands.

“No thank you.” Peter said politely.

“I wasn’t offering. I was insulting.” Flash blew him a kiss before putting a cracker in his mouth. Peter looked at you for help and you gave him a sympathetic smile.

“How are you two friends?” He wondered. “You’re the worst people on the planet.”

“I beg to differ.” Peter began. “I think-“

“The beg.” Flash snapped before winking at Peter.

“We’re friends because we have similar interest.” You shrugged as you stirred the ingredients. “For example, we’re both very interested in you leaving the room.”

“Whatever. I was just making sure Parker doesn’t steal anything.” Flash shot daggers at Peter as he got a drink from the refrigerator. You and Peter stood in silence until you were sure Flash was gone, sighing in relief when he disappeared.

“Do you think he knows?” You whispered to Peter out of the corner of your mouth.

“He doesn’t suspect a thing.” Peter shook his head before pulling you into a kiss.

This was how it continued for month. You posed as friends and dated in secret, never letting your brother know the truth.

“Guess who?” You felt hands cover your eyes from behind. You immediately recognized Peters voice and turned around in his arms.

“What are you doing here?” You looked at him with wide eyes. “Flash could walk in at any minute.”

“I wanted to surprise you.” He smiled. “Happy three month anniversary, princess.”

“Happy anniversary, lover.” You smiled back at him before pulling him into a long kiss. For once, you didn’t care if your brother walked in. All you cared about was Peter.

“I have something for you.” Peter smirked once he pulled away.

“What? You didn’t have to get me anything.” You told him.

“Course I did.” He shrugged as he took a small box out of his pocket. “It’s okay if you didn’t get me anything.”

“I didn’t say I didn’t get you anything.” You winked at him before disappearing into your closet. You returned with a large carton of Goldfish with a bright red bow on it.

“Goldfish!” He lit up. “You remembered.”

“Of course I did, lover. How could I forget the taste of your goldfish breath the first time I kissed you?” You teased him as you wrapped your arms around his neck.

“Well you must’ve like it since you’ve come back for more everyday since.” He shot back before kissing you. “Open yours.”

You took the box from him and opened it up, finding a hand maid needed bracelet with a moon decal that looked like Peter had carved himself.

“The moon?” You looked up at him with a curious smile.

“It’s a waxing crescent. That’s what the moon looked like the night you kissed me. I have a matching one, see?” He held up his wrist to show you his bracelet. You stated at it for a moment before your eyes went back to his gift.

“Peter.” You mumbled without taking your eyes away from the bracelet.

“Do you like it?” He bit his lip as he waited for your reaction. You looked up at him with a grin before throwing your arms around his neck and squeezing him tightly.

“I love it.” You said into his ear. “Thank you so much.”

“I’m so glad you like it.” He smiled at you for a moment before getting serious. As he was looking at you, he realized he had never trusted someone more. Something came over him that made him want to give you every thing he had, including his deepest secret.

“I have to tell you something. No, I, I want to tell you something.” He corrected. “I’ve wanted to tell you for a while, actually. Um, this is so hard to say, wow.”

“It’s okay, Peter.” You put your hand in his face when you saw how flustered his was getting. “I love you too.”

Peter’s face drained of color at your confession as that was not at all what he was about to say.

“What?” He squeaked.

“I love you too.” You repeated, not understanding his confusion.

“That’s…that’s not what I was gonna say.” He blurted and your face fell.

“Oh.” You withdrew your arms from around his neck, feeling embarrassment and disappointment all at once. Peter realized his mistake and tried to pull you back.

“No, no.” Peter said quickly. “I was gonna tell you I’m Spider-Man.”

“What?” You nearly screamed.

“But I love you too! I love you so much.” He took your face in his hands and kissed you repeatedly.

“You’re Spider-Man?” You pushed him away long enough to ask.

“Yes. But more importantly, we’re in love!” He kissed you again. “Happy three months.”

“Happy three months.” You giggled between kisses.

You stood with Peter outside of school a few months later as you waited for Flash to come out.

“This is my least favorite part of the day.” Peter pouted as he rubbed your hand with his thumb.

“Why?” You tilted your head.

“I don’t get to see you anymore.” He looked at you with a shy smile. You smiled back at his cuteness and pressed a kiss to his forehead.

“Marching band ends at 4 right? How about I come over after that? We can do anything you want.” You suggested as you played with the collar of his shirt.

“Anything I want?” He raised an eyebrow.

“Yeah. I’m feeling generous.” You shrugged. You were about to lean in to kiss him when you noticed your brother in the distance.

“Oh no.” You sighed and stepped back from Peter. “Don’t turn around.”

“Hey Penis Parker.” Flash jumped behind Peter and smacked his butt before looking at you. “Sup bitch.”

“Hi Flash.” You smiled tightly at him.

“What are you losers taking about?” He asked. “How you’re never gonna lose your virginities?”

You and Peter exchanged a knowing look and he turned his head to snort.

“We’re talking about how grabbing peoples butts without their permission is sexual harassment.” You spoke up to cover Peters laugh.

“Oh, really? That’s cool.” He smacked Peters butt again. “Are you ready to go? My car is on and she’s ready to purr.”

“God, I hate you.” You sighed. “I’ll see you later, Peter.”

“See you later. Bye.” He leaned forward and pressed a kiss to your lips, entirely forgetting that Flash was there. Your eyes widened as Peter was about to walk away, but Flash held his hand up to stop him.

“Hold up.” He looked at Peter. “What was that?”

Peter furrowed his eyebrows in confusion and looked at you, only realizing his mistake when he noticed your messed up lipstick. He let out a small gasp before looking at Flash, who was shaking with anger.

“Um…physical affection?” Peter said weakly. You slammed your palm against your forehead and let out a sigh.

“Thanks for the run down, Penis Parker.” Flash snapped. “You’re dating my sister?”

“Yeah, Flash.” You put a hand on Peters shoulder. “Peter and I are dating.”

“Excuse me a minute.” He held up and finger before bending down as if he was going to puke. “BLEH.”

You rolled your eyes as your brother continued to make puking sounds.

“I cannot stand this man.” You grumbled. Flash stopped for a moment and stood up, looking eerily composed.

“Y/n, could you give Peter and I a minute to ourselves, please?” He said through a tight smile.

“Um, are you gonna kill him?” You scratched your ear as you looked between your fearfully boyfriend and your suspiciously calm brother.

“I haven’t decided yet.” Flash said, never breaking his smile.

“Don’t go.” Peter looked at you in fear.

“You’ll be okay.” You decided. “I’ll be right over there.”

Flash waited until you walked away until he started interrogating Peter.

“How long had this been going on?” Flash started out.

“Seven months.” Peter told him.

“Is it serious?”

“I love her.” Peter smiled shyly.

“Gross.” Flash gagged. “Does she love you back?”

“Yes.” Peter nodded. “She tells me everyday.”

“So every time I drove into the slums of New York to drop her off at the cardboard box you call an apartment building, I was dropping her off at your place? I was hand delivering my sister to you?” Flash realized.

“Yes.” Peter repeated. “Are you mad?”

“You know what”,Flash let out a breath, “I’m okay.”

“You are?” Peters jaw dropped a little. He had been expecting a beating, or at least a wedgie.

“Yeah.” Flash put his hand on Peters shoulder and rubbed it. “She couldn’t be in better hands, Spiderman.”

He had whispered the last part, making all the blood drain from Peters face.

“How did you-“

“I eavesdrop on people constantly.” Flash cut him off. “I can’t stop. My therapist says it’s because I didn’t get enough attention as a kid, but what does that bitch know? I overheard her husband on the phone telling her that their kid bit somebody again. Again! I never did that. The moon bracelet was a nice touch, by the way. She really likes it.”

“You just told me way too much about you.” Peter blinked a few times as he processed what he just heard.

“Now we’re even.” Flash smirked and shot him a wink.

“Are you gonna tell anyone?” He asked nervously.

“Course not. I would do anything for Spider-Man.” Flash stated firmly. “That secret is safe with me. I am, however, gonna tell everyone that you and her are dating.”

“Why?”

“Because that’s super embarrassing for her. Later, Parker.” He held out his hands for Peter to shake, pulling him in when their hands touched.

“Swing me around the city in your arms and I won’t kill you for dating my sister.” He whispered in Peters ear. Peter looked at him in fear as he walked away. You immediately ran up to Peter once your brother was gone and put a hand on his arm.

“What happened?” You asked. “Are you okay?”

“I’m fine.” Peter told you. “I think I have a date with your brother.”

“You - huh?” You asked for clarification but Peter just shook his head.

“I don’t know.” He sighed in defeat. “I’ll text you after band practice.”

“Yeah I’ll-“ You were cut off by Flash honking his horn and calling your name.

“I’ll text you later.” You grumbled and shot a look at Flash.

“Okay.” Peter kissed you before you began to walk away. “I love you.”

“I love you.” You called over your shoulder as you made your way to Flash’s car. Upon hearing this, Flash just had to chime in.

“I love you too Penis Parker!”

Tag List 🏷

@awesomebooklover17 @thebookwormlife @imanativeofswlondondahling @weirdr-artiest @serendipitous-amor @dummiesshort

 @lavender-writer @captainmandeestudent17 @whatareyouhidingpeter @takenbyheartstrings @ultrunning @imyourliquor-youremypoison @theolwebshooter @andreasworlsboring101 @guksmyfav @waiting-to-be-myself @letsloveimagines @peterparkoure @a-villain-vying-for-attention @justcallmehitgirl @averyfosterthoughts @jackiehollanderr @tiny-friggin-human @mara-twins @iamaunicorn4704 @maryjanee23 @geeksareunique @emmamarshmellow @unbelievableholland @rebekkah4766 @flixndchill @sovereignparker @thisisthebiplace @spideydobrik @every-marveler-ever @undiadeestos @caelestii-e @eridanuswave @itscaminow @fiantomartell @solarxmoonchild @where-art-thau-romeo @canyouevencauseicant @illwritetomorrow @thehappygrungelife @saysomethingspiderman @parkerboop @smilexcaptainx @quaksonhehe @kelieah @kickingn-ames @babeyspidey @seasidecrowbar @lovelessdagger @love-sick-blues @electraheart-3174 @lou-la-lou @unbelievableholland @yourtypicalhotmess @spideyanakin @horanxholland​ @thesuitelifeofafangirl @anapocalypseinmymind @marshxx​ @heyheycharlatte @nooneinvitedfascistbarbie​ @tomshufflepuff @cookiemonstermusic258

@maybemona​ @young-romanoff​ @alexxcorona113​ @fancyxparker​ @lethal-wisdom​ @xo-spidey​ @im-still-tryin-to-find-it​ @big-galaxy-chaos​ @pandaxnienke​ @theincredibledeadlyviper​  @thestylestour​  @officialsimppage​ @mrvelscaptains​ @peterspideysstuff​ @reemusluupin​ @perspectiveparker​ @itsemohours​ @satanswitchings​ @okkulta​ @amorhollands​ @parkerlovebot​ @sarcasticallywitty15​ @mati4188​ @geminiparkers​ @alwayssandy​

[violettelueur]

— JUJUTSU KAISEN EPISODE SIXTEEN || KYOTO SISTER SCHOOL EXCHANGE EVENT - GROUP BATTLE 2

↳ featuring : basically everyone at this point from jujutsu kaisen

↳ warnings : mention of explosions + EXTREME grammar issues

↳ form : story

↳ published : 29 march

↳ pronouns : she/her

↳ word count : 2.2k

↳ synopsis : within the jujutsu world, there were three famous clans to be aware of, the Kamo clan, Zenin clan and the Gojo clan. However, unknown to many sorcerers there was one last family that was known to be apart of the three, only for them to disappear after the golden era leading some to speculate that they had died in battle after the sealing of ryomen sukuna, but....

↳ previous episode : kyoto sister school exchange event - group battle 1

↳ next episode : kyoto sister school exchange event - group battle 3

↳ barista’s notes : it’s been a while huh? ʕ ㅇ ᴥ ㅇʔ BUT! my exams and easter hoilday is nearly here, so i will be able to update more than i have been this month, so thank you all so much for being so patient with me ʕ•ᴥ•ʔﾉ♡ my heart can’t take all the kindness ʕ ꈍᴥꈍʔ other than that, i hope you all enjoy today’s episode since fushiugro doesn’t pop up until like episode eighteen...so hope you love all the made up scenarios that i have constructed ʕ￫ᴥ￩　ʔ

BEFORE READING, I NEED YOU TO BE AWARE OF THIS:

1. the whole story belongs to Gege Akutami and the credits go to them and them only.

2. the spell curses used belong to Tite Kubo due to them being the ‘Kidos’ being used on the manga and anime ‘Bleach’ - but none is mentioned in this chapter.

2.5. for the ‘cursed spells’/kidos (bleach) i will link this video here and tell you the time stamp to check out what i am intending to show - remember i add a few twist here and there by adding the katana to link with Y/N’s cursed technique : hopefully this video is slightly better...

no cursed spells used this episode..

but the little sword swing is inspired by this : here

3. if you are confused on anything, please don’t hesitate to message me since i know this whole thing is so confusing.

“What’s with the smiley look on your face?” you asked as you lifted your eyebrow in curiosity since the man in front of you had a somewhat goofy grin plastered on him while adding a ridiculous amount of sugar cubes into his coffee cup causing you to shiver since you couldn’t imagine how sweet the caffeinated drink would be now if you tried it right now.

“Oh, nothing~ I’m just glad that I got to spend time with my daughter since we both have been so busy lately,” Gojo answered you brightly before grabbing the small metal spoon that was placed on the white saucer below his cup to stir the dark drink to quicken the process of the sugar dissolving.

Right now in the afternoon, you and Gojo were at a random luxury dessert place in the middle of Tokyo, where he had unexpectedly dragged you out of training that you had with the first and second years - much to their complete dismay - to have some ‘father and daughter’ bonding time together, leaving them to prepare today’s training by themselves since their plans were ruined with you now gone out of the scenario.

“Please don’t call me that,” you muttered as you processed to swirl your iced orange and mango juice with your straw before taking a quick sip of the cold beverage causing the tropical flavour to enlighten a light feeling of happiness within your stomach.

“So~ how is training for the exchange event going on?” Gojo asked as he took a sip of his cup causing you to look up at him before moving your lips away from the plastic straw. “It’s going well, Fushiguro and Kugisaki are improving bit by bit as well as the second years, it’s progress,” you replied back as your head began to nod slowly as you began to process everything in your head.

“Ah~ I knew I could count on you,” Gojo mentioned with a proud smile present on his face before looking over to the side to find the waiter coming to your table with the desserts that you both had ordered.

‘Well...isn’t it really your job as a teacher to train them?’

“Thank you so much,” you said to the waiter as they placed down your plates before giving you a nod as they processed to look after the other customers that were also in the cafe right now, leading Gojo to look at the treats in such delight before handing you one of the plates since he was the one that ordered everything - which was a complete surprise since you didn’t think he would remember you liking orange juice at all.

“Here you are! Tiramisu with fresh strawberries on top,” Gojo expressed with an excited tone causing you to look at him with a perplexed expression before slowly peering down at the small white plate that was placed in front of you to only find the mentioned dessert with a small fork right beside it.

“Did...you know I like tiramisu?” you asked bewilderedly since you had never mentioned anything about your favourite treats to Gojo since he was so keen on ordering as quickly as possible the second you both got here, to get the beautiful desserts as early as possible leaving you no room to add what you wanted.

“You were looking at it on the display when we got here, so I thought you wanted to give it a try,” Gojo informed you, leading you to look at him once again in surprise before steadily taking the fork in hand to dig into the treat you were gifted with.

“Thank you,” you mentioned with gratitude before you slowly began to tuck into the meal leaving Gojo to look at you with a smile before changing his gaze towards the sweet treats that were displayed at you both right now before gleefully taking the strawberry shortcake as his first choice.

“Y/N...when the exchange event comes...don’t use your curse technique at all,” Gojo said in a serious tone leading you to look up at your teacher in confusion due to the unexpected change in atmosphere, before sighing since you thought it was common knowledge by now and there was no need for him to remind you.

“You don’t need to tell me that, I can tell that the Kyoto Principal is coming to be watching, right?” you rhetorically asked as you slightly tilted your head to the side, “you don’t have to worry about anything, I ain’t that stupid, besides...the Kyoto students from what I’ve seen are real drags,”

                                              ꕥ

‘I swear I feel like using a curse spell right now’

At this current moment in time, you were in a somewhat difficult situation as you were rapidly zooming past the forest trees that were surrounding you while continuously avoided the arrows that were coming towards your way as some flew right past you while others struck the tree trucks that were somewhat protecting you from them, leaving you with the job to find an escape route since you were still trying to find clues of the mole that Gojo mentioned to you before the Exchange Event started as well as the second-grade curse that was needed to be exorcised to end the first day of the two-day event.

Shifting your eyes to the side, you noticed Fushiguro running in the same direction as you as he needed to keep up with you to make sure that you were safe and there was a way to help you avoid attacking your opponent right now since that was a new rule implemented to keep the game fair. However, with the abandonment of the use of your curse technique, Fushiguro needed to make sure he could defend you and have your back right now.

Quickly, you turned your head back to face forwards to ensure that you didn’t bump into anything or tripped up anywhere since you still had no idea where you were heading right now. From what you could recall, the area that was mapped out to the event’s arena was quite vast and it was getting somewhat difficult for you to sense everyone’s cursed energy since they were all now scattered in different directions with different distances leading your sense on them to become disorganised around you causing some difficulty to sense the curse you needed to locate for.

During this train of thought, Fushiguro couldn’t help but notice a few odd but small objects flowing through the air in front of both of you and him, causing the erratic-haired sorcerer to slightly tense up since he wasn’t sure what they were but also knew he couldn’t act too careless right now since it could be a trap that was set by the Kyoto side. However, as you both continued to sprint forward, those same small objects gilded right past between both of you and Fushiguro causing him to able to identify what they were.

‘Flower petals?’ Fushiguro thought before noticing how a few more pink petals would flow between you and him causing the shikigami user to look at you in confusion (since it was summer meaning there was no way they were just in bloom) as a few more of them gracefully fluttered past you which lead Fushiguro to slowly remember something, yet it was blurry in his mind right now. However, before his mind could even process anything to clear up the blurry image, you swiftly raised your arm to unexpectedly grab a few of the pink petals causing him to snap out of his daze before you left him more perplexed about what you were planning.

“Gojo, what are you going to do?” Fushiguro questioned, as he slyly noticed how your grip on the petals began to tighten before a small smile graced itself upon your face.

“Right now, let’s just say I ain’t planning to follow the rules if he keeps attacking me!” you answered back in a loud tone causing the grade-two sorcerer to glance at you with widened eyes as he wanted to halt you from what you were organising to do. Although, it seemed like it was too late since your hand opened slowly to release the pink flower petals back into the air before you took hold of his sleeve to pull him further so you both can take a long distance away from the same petals right now.

Suddenly, another arrow appeared from the trees as it was making its way towards you both leading you to smirk slightly as you let out of your classmate’s sleeve to take a hold of your katana that was still within its wooden sheathe as you needed to prepare for what was about to commence. 

As the arrow drew closer and closer to you and Fushiguro, it couldn’t help but slightly grazed its sharp metal tip on one of the rosy coloured petals causing a sudden large explosion to commence right above you and Fushiguro while the other petals began to follow due to the first explosion’s residue hitting them as well leading to a row of large explosions to employ to which caused Fushiguro to look at the scene in complete shock before noticing how you were beginning to casually unsheathe your katana from its metal hold.

“You see, if I follow the rules, there is no way of telling them to stay the hell away from me,” you muttered, as you spun around to face the opposite direction before fully swinging your sword sideways leading to a crescent wave of cursed energy to speedily manifest as it flew across the whole woods while somewhat clearing the fiery explosion that was already enough to keep Kamo in place for some time leading Fushiguro to inspect the destructive site in complete surprise since he had no idea that you were able to carry out such an attack. However, it seemed like there was no more time to admire your work as you gripped onto his school jacket’s sleeve, once again, as you had already turned back around to continue running to god knows where.

‘Maybe I went a little overboard…’

                                              ꕥ

“What was that?” Nishimiya asked in slight fear, as she peered in the direction on where the unexpected explosions had occurred while noticing how some of the trees were suddenly on fire while others just seemed to be missing leading Kugisaki, Panda and Mechamaru (who were down below on the ground) to look towards the direction where they hear the destruction.

“Woah,” Kugisaki muttered in awe since she had a slight feeling that it was you, who caused the mass destruction just seconds ago.

“Well, it seems like we don’t have to worry about Gojo,” Panda mentioned to his lower classmate before he swiftly got back up on his feet to attack Mechamaru by launching a punch into the robot’s face causing Kugisaki to turn to him in shock since she thought he was still unconscious.

‘Yeah, I don’t have to ever worry about her’ Kugisaki thought confidently before turning towards her opponent with an annoyed look on her face.

                                            ꕥ

“She can do that with flower petals?!” Utahime screamed in shock as she peered at the screen that was now just a pure full screen of static leading her to nearly drop her cup of tea, while Gojo looked at the same screen in slight surprise before he began to giggle while processing to remove his hands that were resting behind his head in amusement of what he had just witnessed from you.

“Awhhh so pretty~” Gojo commented as he clapped his hands like he was applauding you, leading Utahime to turn her gaze towards him in an irritated manner.

‘You love to keep surprising me, don’t you Y/N?’

“And that’s one bird down! Mei-san, is it possible to get another?” Gojo questioned as he peered back to his colleague causing her to giggle slightly as she opened her eyes again.

“Just who did you take in Gojo? You have a good eye if you decided to take her as your daughter, how much did you pay for her?” Mei replied, only for Gojo to look at her with a cheeky smile.

“Nothing, absolutely zero yen! I got her by pure chance, don’t tell me you’re planning to take her away from me, Mei-san?” Gojo jokingly commented back, before turning his sights on the Kyoto Principal, who seemed to be somewhat shocked at the current events that were transpiring on, but managed to maintain his composure leading to the strongest sorcerer to turn back to the other multitude of screens that were in front of him right now, like he was at the cinema watching an action movie.

‘The Kyoto student from what I’ve seen are real drags’

“That’s a bit harsh and violent from those said ‘drags’, don’t you think Y/N?” Gojo muttered under his breath as he waited for another crow to replace the one you had destroyed earlier.

‘At this rate, she won’t be able to track down the mole if Kamo is going to keep attacking her...oh well~ she’s a smart person, she’ll figure it out without even facing them’

© violettelueur 2021 : written and published by violettelueur - do not steal or repost