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bffsoobin · 3 years

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amortentia

↳year six potions class was never particularly exciting to you- as a Slytherin with much more interest in Transfiguration- but alas, it’s required to graduate. You thought the class couldn’t be any more of an inconvenience, but upon being paired with infamous Gryffindor Beomgyu, you find yourself proven wrong.

➤ gryffindor!beomgyu xslytherin!reader, harry potter!au, enemies to lovers, a little slow burn, fluff

Word Count: ~11k

Requested?: kinda? anon requested a Beomgyu oneshot with no specifics and I spit this out of some depraved, Harry Potter obsessed corner of my mind.

Warnings: mentions of drinking, usual e2l arguments, swearing, usual Gryffindor-Slytherin insults and tension

A/N: I hope the anon who asked for a Beomgyu oneshot is happy with this!! I finally felt like I had enough time to write a proper hogwarts au so here it is! Also I purposely avoided using any professor names that are clearly linked with the actual Harry Potter series purely because of timeline continuity! Bonus points if you can guess who Georgiana is related to before I point it out :) ALSO this is so long and I feel so rusty so I hope it’s okay lmao

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The sound of your quill scratching against parchment filled your quiet corner of the common room, allowing you a feeling of solidarity and peace you’d been craving since you arrived back to the castle a few days ago. Of course you’d been excited to be back, sharing the meal in the Great Hall with all of your friends happily as you watched the wide-eyed first years get sorted into their houses. It was hard to believe that 6 years ago that had been you waiting to find your place within the walls of Hogwarts.

As always, the buzz of the beginning of a new year wore on your nerves. Despite your love for your friends, their energy was- in your opinion- completely draining. You much preferred the moments of quiet serenity that the stone laden dungeon common room afforded you. The last few embers of a fire lit hours before winked at you from across the room, tempting you to raise your wand and reignite them. After a moment you decided against the movement, as you were presumably the only one awake at this hour and the light of the cedar scented candle you’d brought down with you from your suitcase provided enough light for you anyway.

The scratch of your quill stilled as you flipped to the next page, careful not to accidentally bend the corners of the book you’d just purchased. Several detailed diagrams detailed the process of transfiguring plants to inanimate objects to animals then back to plants and you felt your heart swell with excitement. Transfiguration was hands down your favorite subject, and you’d been craving to learn this process in particular since it had been mentioned offhandedly in class last year. You scrambled to pick up your quill, happy that you’d splurged for the instantly refilling model as ink flowed flawlessly against the parchment.

A sudden crash from the entrance of the common room popped your comfortable bubble of silence harshly as you clambered for your wand.

“Who’s there?” You yelled, annoyance and surprise mixing to raise your voice considerably. For a moment you heard nothing as you advanced closer to the door, keeping the three wide stone steps between you and who- or what- ever was behind the door. The door shook a few times before finally flying open, revealing three very normal looking boys stumbling through the threshold. They were all hanging on one another, stumbling over their feet as they pushed into the common room. You recognized the one in the middle instantly as Choi Yeonjun, fellow Slytherin and current Head Boy of the house. He was a year older than you but you knew him well for his infectious laughter and notoriously good grades despite never studying. His cheeks were flushed and his feet unsteady, but he held a charming grin through it all. The identity of whoever was supporting him on the left was a mystery to you, but the boy supporting him from the right sent alarm bells off in your head.

“Beomgyu?” Your voice left you before you could rein yourself in, and you would have cringed had it not been for the hatred brewing under your skin. Here he was, the one person you tried to forget existed every single summer. And he had been part of the ruckus that pulled you from your reading. He didn’t say anything as the three boys stumbled past you, dumping Yeonjun onto one of the soft black leather sofas.

“Hello?” You felt like you were in some kind of time warp, somehow totally invisible to the three of them as they sorted themselves out; Beomgyu and the other boy straightening out their clothing and Yeonjun lolling his head back on the cushions with a content sigh.

“Oh, hey Y/N.” Beomgyu finally drawled, sticking his hands in the front pockets of his trousers. He was still wearing his robes, layered over a sensible gray wool sweater and black uniform slacks. His striped red and gold tie hung off of his neck slightly, obviously having been loosened at some point in the night. He donned the same Head Boy pin Yeonjun did, but in the same colorway as his robes and tie. Loud, obnoxious, attention seeking red and gold.

“Hey? How about instead of “hey” you tell me why the hell you’re barging into my common room at some ungodly hour of the night! Don’t you have somewhere else to be, Head Boy?” The unidentified boy behind him froze as his eyes widened, apparently feeling the sting of your icy words much more than Beomgyu. He just lifted a lazy eyebrow, guiding his annoyingly confident gaze over your body. Fucking Gryffindors and their confidence. It was suffocating.

“Well you see, Y/N. Yeonjun here can’t handle his fire whiskey for shit, and we were all just having a little start of the year party in the Room of Requirement. So me and my friend here,” he motioned vaguely to the cowering boy behind him- who you now noticed looked like he had just entered his fourth year- “decided to be so kind as to bring him back.”

You said nothing for a moment; simply simmering in your hatred for him until he spoke again.

“By the way, what are you even doing up so late? You’re not a prefect...so shouldn’t you be up in bed like the rest of your little friends? What’s so secretive that you have to be up in the middle of the night for it? Are you doing something...evil?” He leaned forward, closing the gap between the two of you and bringing his mouth level with your ear. You cringed at the closeness, clenching your hands into fists until the crescents of your nails indented your skin. His voice had lowered like he was telling a secret, as if Gryffindors even had the capacity for maintaining privacy. “Are you being naughty?”

You huffed indignantly, finally finding the strength to shove his shoulder away harshly. The skin of your cheeks was certainly flamed, but you hoped he would chalk it up to annoyance and not the intoxicating scent of his woody cologne.

“If you must know, I was up studying Transfiguration. I was trying to enjoy some piece and quiet until you came busting in.”

Beomgyu stepped around you and made his way for the table you’d previously been sitting at. To your delight he refrained from touching anything, but he stared at the set up for so excruciatingly long that the mystery boy awkwardly slipped out of the dungeon without a word.

“We start classes in about 5 hours,” he suddenly remarked. His voice made you jump a bit, since you’d become used to the regained quiet. “Why the hell are you already studying? And a subject we’ve all already taken? Any other Transfiguration courses would just be electives, and with how much you care for your class standing I would have assumed you’d be learning ahead on Potions.”

“Well first of all, I’m not exactly studying. I’m just reading. I bought the book myself because I-” you stopped and heaved a sigh at the scrunch of his eyebrows. He clearly wasn’t understanding the concept of reading just for the fun of it. “I’m not studying for Potions because I despite it. Plus, how much is there to study? The book literally spells out every ingredient and procedure. There’s no thinking to be done, and hardly any magic.” Beomgyu’s eyebrows shot up into his hairline comically.

“Hardly any magic? My god, maybe I was right to peg you as the pessimistic type. Must be hard to feel anything akin to hope down here in your-” he glanced around your common room again, eyes catching on the darkened green and black decorations, the window offering a view of the sparkling Black Lake shrouded with pine trees. “In your dungeon.”

His use of the word bothered you greatly. Even though you knew it was geographically true and had even used it yourself; something about him coming in unannounced and uninvited to insult your home inspired fresh anger in your stomach.

“Get out,” you spat, ignoring the way a half-dozed Yeonjun jumped at your voice. With all your might you pushed at Beomgyu’s broad shoulders, willing him out of your sight for at least a few more hours.

“Oof, must have hit a nerve there, huh?” He continued to speak casually as you pushed him, walking backwards up the steps with an annoyingly perfect accuracy. Once he was finally stood in the threshold of the heavy door you heaved a sigh of relief as you swing it closed.

“Bye bye! Don’t ever fucking come back!”

——

You only managed about two hours of sleep after the Beomgyu drama, but luckily for you the three other sixth year girls you were rooming with had been smart enough to buy and stash away some caffeine potions. They had none of the enjoyable taste of coffee but three times the effect, and soon you felt back in top shape to head to class.

Pushing through the masses of clambering students with a practice eased, you caught up to the familiar frame of Georgiana, one of your oldest friends. She was a Ravenclaw, but you’d ridden together on your very first trip on the Hogwarts Express and stayed close friends since then. She greeted you easily, giving you an award winning smile as she pulled you by the arm of the robes to sit on one of the surprisingly empty stone benches lining the halls.

“Let me see your schedule!” She had to yell just to be heard over the mumbling of the crowd, but you heard her well enough to produce a folded piece of parchment that you carried despite having memorized it. Georgiana’s eyes flitted over it carefully, comparing it to her own schedule which laid open on her lap.

“We’ve got...Herbology 3,” she ran her finger down the parchments a few more inches, “Transfiguration of Aquatics...and NEWT prep together!” You groaned loudly, a feeling of anxiety weighing down your bones as you rubbed your fingertips into your temples.

“What’s up with you? Over me already?” She giggled, leaning back against the wall and handing you back your schedule.

“No, it’s just...if you’re the second class for Herb 3, Aquatics and NEWT prep, that means I have to pray that the second house in Potions isn’t Gryffindor.” You leaned back against the cool wall next to her, pouting in self pity until you saw the grim look on her face.

“What?” You sat up straight again as if a fire had been lit under your ass. Georgiana looked as if she was holding in a laugh and a grimace at the same time while you begged her to give up whatever information she was holding back from you. Her hand hovered over her mouth in an attempt to hide the wavering smirk running across her lips.

“Okay, don’t freak out.” She began, placing a hand on your knee.

“Well now I’m definitely going to since you lead with don’t freak out! Should I freak out? What about?”

“I already compared schedules with Soobin,” she said gently.

“Okay, and?” You knew of the sweet Hufflepuff, had sat next to him in a few classes and seen him hanging out with Yeonjun on occasion, but still had no idea why she was bringing him up now.

“And him and I have Potions together.” In the split second it took for the words to process you saw her flinch, clutching at the fabric of her robes over her chest in anticipation for your angry outburst.

“Of course! Of course I have to get stuck with them for Potions class, out of all the other houses. Merlin really has it out for lately you know, I didn’t sleep very much last night, had to pay Melinda 10 galleons for one of her caffeine potions-“

“I can tell,” Georgiana supplied. You grimaced at her and immediately shut your mouth, sensing your rapid talking was quickly becoming over the top.

“Georgie, if I have Potions with him-“ you didn’t even have to specify who you were speaking of before she was rolling her green eyes into her head.

“If you have Potions with Beomgyu, you just need to ignore him. He loves to push your buttons, Y/N. When will you realize that? And you push his back and you both get a good cat-and-mouse feeling that every teenager wants. Maybe if you stop entertaining it, he’ll take it easy on you. Need I remind you of the time you were actually friends with him? Didn’t swear he was the spawn of Satan after every conversation? I even remember in second year when you had a crush on him and made me-“

“Okay!” You replied curtly, gathering your books and parchment back into your arms. “I’m going now! Class starts in,” you pulled back your robe sleeve to look at a watch that clearly was not there, “10 minutes, and I like to be early!” Easily, you slipped into the throngs of students, leaving Georgiana behind with a sly grin on her face.

——

You arrived to the Potions room before any other student, forcing you to idle awkwardly in the small space between the door and the first brewing station. A few of the cauldrons bubbled idly, breaking up the silence of the room with the low hum of white noise. The arched ceilings only amplified the absence of noise- even the never ending buzz of students passing through the hallways was somehow muffled to silence inside the walls.

“Ah!” The professor bellowed, waving at you from the opposite end of the room where he had been straightening out some piles of parchment that you could only assume were homework papers. “Hello there, you must be quite eager to start the day!” You could feel the skin of the back of your neck heating up as the rotund man approached you gleefully.

“Oh, um, yes sir. You could say that...” you mumbled, clutching your stack of books to your chest protectively. The man smiled at you kindly but you could still feel the heavy weight of awkwardness seeping into your bones. He opened his mouth again- making another attempt at small talk to which you cringed. As much as you respected the professor on the basis of his knowledge, your ability for any small talk, especially Potions related, was extremely lacking.

“You must’ve done quite well on your OWLS to be here, yes? Only those with the highest scores can be registered. The class can be quite challenging, but if you’ve got your affairs in order I reckon you’ll fine.” He paused, likely sensing the blankness behind your stare as you nodded politely. “Ah, all things you already know I’m sure. Are you excited to get started with the class?”

You frowned, holding back your natural instinct for brutal honesty. How on earth could you let this gentle old man down gently?

“Of course she’s excited! Aren’t we all?” Beomgyu was in the room now, apparently, approaching you from behind and slinging an arm around your shoulders. The loose fabric of his sleeve collided with the side of your face, blinding you for a second. You stumbled on your feet from the jostle, trying to shrug away from the warmth and overwhelming scent of his cologne. Beomgyu never was aware of his own strength as he held you steadily against his side as if he was trying to fuse your bodies together.

“Oh my! So nice to see such great friends between different houses! Back in my day, as I’m sure you know, there was so much hatred between Gryffindors and Slytherins...never would have seen a pair of friends like the two of you!” The professor seemed genuinely delighted, oblivious to the way you tried to wiggle out of Beomgyu’s hold. You offered the professor a plastic smile as more students filed in. As soon as the portly man was otherwise occupied, you stomped the heel of your sneaker into Beomgyu’s foot with all the might you could gather.

“Merlin, ouch!” He recoiled immediately, withdrawing his arm from around your frame to clutch at the foot you’d hopefully bruised. “I’ve got Quidditch practice after lunch today! How dare you!”

“Guess it’s a good thing you don’t need your feet for Quidditch, Choi. Serves you right for violating my personal space. Next time it’ll be worse than your fucking toes.” You hissed the words lowly, just enough that he would be able to hear them but without alerting your nearby classmates.

“You two, there!” The professor suddenly exclaimed, making you jump out of your stupor to see he was pointed an aged finger at you and Beomgyu. “Since you were first in and seem to get along, I’ll have you be partners on Station 1.” A few confused whispers passed through the classmates behind you and your face fell at the implication. Potions partners with Beomgyu? For the whole year?

He seemed similarly stalled, not moving a single inch away from the front of the room until the professor cleared his throat pointedly.

“Right, sir, of course,” Beomgyu nodded, rushing over to the furthest of the high-top tables; unsuccessfully trying to hide the pain of his newfound limp. With a satisfied feeling in your chest you followed closely behind, finally unloading the weight of the books in your arms onto the table.

——

“How much worse could it get?” You groaned, laying your head in your arms at the dining table.

“Well, you could be sick, or failing a class, or not have any friends, or have lost your books. Hell, let’s not forget what it must have been like to go to school here at the same time as Harry Potter. I mean, no final exams for a few years, but at what cost? Grandpa Ron always tells me about-”

“Oh, good Merlin, Georgie, that’s not what I meant.” You picked your head up from the table and scanned the bustling hall. A large plate of sandwiches laid in front of you but your appetite was diminished in the presence of your stress. “I mean, how fucked is it that I have to spend every first period for the rest of the year brewing Potions alongside Choi? It’s bad enough that I hate Potions already, and now I’ll have to deal with his stupid, righteous, Slytherin-slandering ass!” You slammed your hand into the wooden table, shaking the plates and glasses near you under the force.

“Careful there,” Georgiana scolded around a mouthful of bread. “Just keep your head down, don’t react to him like you always do,” she paused to gulp down a sip of pumpkin juice, “he’ll give up eventually.” You heaved a heavy sigh, propping your chin onto the palm of your hand and scanning the Great Hall. Masses of students bustled around, sharing meals and laughing or gathering over homework problems. You weren’t quite sure who or what you were looking for, but all you found was a rowdy group of forth year boys sitting atop one of the tables, casting small hexes at one another and their lunches. You rolled your eyes at their antics before resigning to picking at the few fries on your plate.

“And if he doesn’t?” You mumbled, casting a pointed glare at a seemingly distracted Georgiana. It took her a second to shift her gaze back to your face, clearing her throat as she narrowed her eyes towards you.

“Sorry?” She asked, pulling a section of crust off of the third sandwich she’d picked up off of the platter.

“If he doesn’t give up? What am I supposed to do then?” The thought of living out the next two school years with Choi Beomgyu as a constant annoyance settled a pit of rage in your stomach. Georgiana was quiet for a moment, flicking a few locks of curled, fiery hair over her shoulder.

“Then you get back at him.” She shrugged. “You know you get a discount at the joke shop. Just go down there and pick up some puking pastilles or something.” She looked up again suddenly, eyes shimmering and focused intently on something behind you. Out of curiosity you turned on the spot, wondering if there was something of interest outside of the window, only to be met with the sight of Soobin standing mere feet away, hand stalled mid-wave. It didn’t take a genius to notice that the Hufflepuff was staring intently at your best friend, and she was happily returning the sentiment with a goofy grin on her face. You whipped back around to face her, leaning across the table as if the action would provide any secrecy with him so close.

“Are you and Soobin...” you wiggled your eyebrows at her and she swatted at your shoulder. Her cheeks blushed rosy as she whispered back, “He asked me if I’d want to hang out when we go to Hogsmeade this weekend.” Her voice shook as she spoke but you frowned instantly. Of course you were happy that he had finally manned up and the two of them were on the way to something akin to a date, but...

“First weekend Hogsmeade is our tradition!” You shouted, abandoning any secrecy you might have thought you’d maintained from Soobin.

“Y/N, please!” Georgiana hissed, glancing up at Soobin with an apologetic smile. “Just once. You can still come along, maybe you can bring someone too?” She offered, trying to placate your irritation. Her eyes continued sliding between you and Soobin as she waited for your response. You sank back onto the bench quietly, arms crossed over your chest.

“Fine.” You sighed. “I guess I can try to think of someone.” Georgiana’s face lit up as she stood from her seat and gathered her books back under her arm. She rounded the end of the table quickly, meeting up with Soobin just behind you. “Don’t think I’m not still irritated, Weasley!” You yelled after her even though she had turned her back to you. She stalled in her lockstep next to Soobin just long enough to turn her head and throw you a middle finger.

——

The day of your Hogsmeade visit came quicker than you anticipated, and of course you’d failed to find someone to fill the empty spot that would prevent you from third wheeling. Everyone you asked had either been otherwise busy, sick, or already going into Hogsmeade with other friends.

Georgiana, being the wonderful friend she was, made sure that you hadn’t felt left out on the walk into the village. Soobin was surprisingly good at keeping conversation despite his shy appearance, and the three of you had managed to share lunch and a few Butterbeers at The Three Broomsticks before Georgiana began giving you pointed glances. It took you an embarrassingly long time to recognize what her hand signals and mouthed words were conveying, but once you did you had excused yourself to wander the shops alone in a bid to give the lovebirds some privacy.

The weather was surprisingly pleasant, and as such the streets were lined with witches and wizards of all ages. Large throngs of students and families passed you by, and you couldn’t help but feel a bit like a fish swimming upstream as everyone pushed by. When you’d first stepped out you felt odd walking the cobbled street alone, considering you’d never made a solo trip to Hogsmeade for as long as you’d lived. Something about it was quite relaxing, though, as you realized you could enter any store and stay for any amount of time.

Once you’d wrestled your way through another group of oncoming students, you spotted an endearing baby blue storefront with deserts on display in the window. Many of them appeared to be muggle creations, and your mouth watered as you caught sight of a tray of fudgy brownies with a thick layer of chocolate icing. Your eyes had always been bigger than your stomach; so despite the fact that you’d just had lunch you find yourself stepping into the sweet smelling shop. An expansion charm helped stretch the store far beyond its dainty storefront, and you were met with the sight of even more display cases and tiered plates full of sweets.

A few other wizards mulled around the store, debating which treats to pick up and pack into the little green pastry boxes which were stacked at the entrance in a never ending supply. You balanced one of your own between your hands as you gathered up treats, sure to grab three of the very brownies that had brought you in to begin with. You packed in a few cookies that you found on a shelf near the back of the store and began to weigh your options between purchasing what appeared to be a type of muggle cake with specs of color floating about the white batter or a more familiar looking pumpkin pastry dusted with powdered sugar. You contemplated the two deserts for an amount of time that would have been embarrassing if you were in the presence of company.

“Wrackspurts on the brain?” A rush of hot breath inches away from the shell of your ear had you reeling, clutching your box of precious deserts to your chest. Of course you’d immediately identified the voice; you were just hoping that you were wrong as you shot daggers into the boy who’d spooked you. Beomgyu looked beyond pleased with himself: a hand cocked on his hip, fake glasses perched at the very end of his nose to perfectly top off the outfit he’d chosen. His robes hung open, one shoulder almost devoid of the fabric as it drooped onto his back. The maroon turtleneck he wore struck a perfect contrast with the golden undertones of his skin and matched impressively well to the emblem on his robes. He had tucked the turtleneck into the waistband of a pair of light wash jeans that made it hard not to marvel at the shape of his waist. The scent of his cologne was faint, overpowered by the sweetness of the shop, but you were picking up overwhelming scents of-

“Hello? Earth to Y/N?” He scrunched his nose as he studied you, waving gingerly like you would have at a child.

“Oh! Uh, I’m here, I’m here. What the hell do you want anyway?” You turned your attention back to the two pastries you’d been considering before his sneak attack in an attempt to keep yourself from looking back at his form.

“What’re you doing here alone? Out of friends? Did ya bore them all to death?” He had rounded to the opposite side of the table, forcing you to look at him straight on.

“I walked into Hogsmeade with Georgiana and Soobin, if you must know. They wanted some time alone so here I am.” You glanced up again to see him leaning casually against the table with one arm bracing his weight.

“I just have to point out that you’re also alone, Beomgyu. So I’m not quite sure why so keen on bashing me.” Your eyes skate over the deserts one final time before you decisively package up a slice of the muggle cake. The urge to celebrate the small victory was squashed by Beomgyu’s scoff.

“I’m here alone because I chose to be, not because my best friend is on a date and didn’t want a chaperone. Don’t you find that a little embarrassing?”

To be honest, you hadn’t considered it that way. You knew that finding a person to keep you from third wheeling had been your responsibility. But maybe he had a point. Although he was a constant nagging force, Beomgyu was insightful and intelligent. He’d helped you in class many times back when you were friends. Nervously, you nibbled at your bottom lip and considered his words carefully. Did Georgiana find your presence today embarrassing? She was surely too nice to tell you so, and there was no denying the tension in her face while she waited for you to leave The Three Broomsticks earlier. Your normally stoic face must have betrayed you, conveying that you were starting to feel hurt at the words that suddenly seemed to make so much sense.

“I was joking,” Beomgyu spoke up suddenly, rounding the table to once again be next to you. “Don’t take everything I say so seriously, Y/N. I’m beginning to worry for your sense of humor.” He picked up a couple of cookies with careful dexterity and settled them into the palm of his hand.

“Of course,” you concluded bitterly, taking a step back in a bid to get to the counter and buy your treats. “Must be my broken sense of humor and not just the fact that you’re an ass.” His face twisted unpleasantly as you stepped further away. He opened his mouth as if to say something, but you were already pivoting on the balls of your feet to make your way toward the front of the shop.

——

The evidence of the first frost of the season crunched underneath your feet as you hurried to class. As someone who prided themselves on showing up on time for classes every day, you were particularly embarrassed to have woken up with just twenty minutes to spare before the beginning of potions. There was no excuse, either. You had simply stayed up too late studying for the NEWT practice exam and forgot to set your alarm before lying down.

To make matters worse you’d greatly underdressed yourself, underestimating the absolute chill of the morning when you had peeled out from the window. Only now, as you found yourself feet away from the classroom did you feel the icy temperature begin to bite into your exposed skin. Your cheeks were numb with cold, and your hands shook as you pushed them under your arms for some amount of warmth. Luckily the classroom was warmer when you finally got to it. Guiltily, you grinned at your professor as he notably marked your attendance onto the scroll of parchment.

“Rough night?” Beomgyu asked under his breath as the professor launched into the lesson for the day. You kept your back turned to the boy in favor of writing down the list of ingredients that was being provided to you. A firm poke in the middle of your back had you turning on your stool, already silently fuming as you came face to face with Beomgyu.

“What?” You mouthed, trying your best not to alert your professor that neither of you were paying attention to him.

“You look awful,” he mouthed back, pulling the most exaggerated gagging expression you’d ever seen in your life. Your fingers twitched, resisting the urge to grab him by his necktie and slap him across his annoyingly perfect face. Instead you threw up your middle finger boldly, practicing a muggle tradition that wizards had become quite fond of. Beomgyu feigned shock, laying a hand over his heart and pretending to faint right there at his stool.

“-so you’ll be using this combination of potions for the group project, due in one weeks time.” Your professor concluded. Wide eyed, you spun back around on your stool only to see the words previously written on the board disappear with a flick of his wand. A group project? Potions, plural? You’d only taken notes on one mixture, and you were sure that Beomgyu hadn’t taken any notes at all. Although maybe the group project wasn’t among your table mate? Your heart fluttered as you prayed for that to be the reality, scanning your classmates to see if anyone got up to switch seats or combine tables.

Not a single soul moved.

“Guess it’s just us.” Beomgyu drawled from behind you.

“Did you take any notes?” You asked, fear running through your veins. If both of you were clueless, you’d have to ask the professor to explain everything to you again, which would only implicate the two of you for not paying attention to begin with.

Beomgyu shook his head and shrugged much too casually for a student who was in the dark about an entire project.

“I’ll just ask someone. Hey, Art-”

“No!” You scrambled for a rolled piece of parchment to hit him on the arm with before he could finish his shout across the classroom. “Please, do not scream across the room that we don’t know what we’re doing.” Your cheeks were flaming, anxiety and exhaustion building to a dangerous level in your bloodstream.

“Awe, are you ashamed to admit you were too busy talking to me to pay attention?” Beomgyu cooed, cradling his chin in his palms.

“No. I’m embarrassed that we’re the only ones not starting the work,” you glanced pointedly to all of the other tables where your classmates were hard at work on...something. Every table housed a slowly bubbling cauldron producing a steady stream of light grey smoke. The cauldron resting on the table between the two of you was alarmingly quiet, your stores of provided potion ingredients remaining untouched.

“Alright, Y/N. How about right now we work on the one you wrote down,” he points a finger at the parchment containing the list of notes you managed to take, “and I’ll talk to someone about the rest. Since you’re too proud to ask for help.” Without waiting for you to process the words he gripped the parchment between his fingers and pulled it toward the middle of the table. He mumbled a simple aguamenti under his breath and the cauldron filled with the perfect level of water. He then scrutinized the words for just a moment before he began to collect ingredients with a practiced ease, barely even glancing at the labels of the hefty glass containers. You’d never seen him quite as focused in a class as he was at the moment, his nimble fingers uncapping lids and measuring precise amounts of lacewing flies with a delicacy you never would have expected to come from the hands of Gryffindor’s star Beater.

One after the other, ingredients fell into the wrought iron cauldron, changing the color of the mixture from clear to an odd, murky green. You scrunched your nose in distaste but Beomgyu was nodding to himself in satisfaction, his fluffy hair bouncing back off of his forehead.

“Stop staring and start taking notes, Y/N.” His voice was casual but his lips were twisted in a smirk as you scrambled for both an excuse and a fresh roll of parchment.

“I wasn’t,” you defended as you begin to scribble out notes against the parchment, refusing to meet his eyes as the shame of being caught red-handed crawled up the back of your throat and stung behind your eyes. He simply hummed in acknowledgment and tossed in a few leaves of a plant you didn’t have time to identify into the bubbling mixture.

——

Impatiently, you tapped your foot against the stone floor. It echoed a sound that would have been satisfying in its consistency if it weren’t for the annoyance running through your veins. Beomgyu had promised to meet you in the west corner of the library today, at a prompt 7pm, in order to finish synthesizing your plan for the Potions project. You checked the clock on the wall again just in case you had somehow misread the hands only to find them confirming your suspicions. Beomgyu was blowing you off. He had suggested the time and place himself, and yet he couldn’t even have the decency to show up.

Anger blossomed in your chest as you stood to gather the things you’d brought along. Your chair scraped on the floor and attracted the stares of a few other students put you paid them no mind as you swore under your breath.

Of course Beomgyu had stood you up in the face of an important project. He was probably laughing away to his friends in the common room, boasting about how he’d left you sitting in the library like a fool. Once again he had proven himself to be an utterly useless and annoying human being that you wished you had never even met. Your teeth sunk into the supple flesh of your bottom lip so hard that blood pooled on your tongue, the bitter tang snapping you into action. The route to the Gryffindor common room was a familiar one, and the hatred brimming inside of you made your legs move even faster than usual, swearing under your breath as you finally came face to face with the portrait keeping you from entering the room.

“I don’t have time for any password- please just let me in. I’m looking for someone.” Your words came rushed, obviously annoyed as you crossed your arms over your chest.

“Now, you know that isn’t how this works, dear,” the painting asserted, crossing their arms to mimic your own stubborn pose. “I can’t let just anyone into the room. I’ve got,” the portraited stopped dead in its tracks and began counting on its fingers silently. “I’ve got 30 students inside right now, and it’s my job to protect them.” Your fists clenched at your sides over the stubborn portrait, fingers itching to grab your wand and level a badgering curse against the damned painting. It must have read the anger on your face as you fiddled with the fabric of your robes, as it’s booming voice came again;

“Tell me who you’re seeking, and I can tell you if I’ve seen them!” With your fingers still curled around your wand, it took a fair deal of restraint to leave it in your robe pocket. After a deep, steadying breath, you looked back up at the portrait. A beat of silence passed before you slathered on a sweet smile, clearing your throat to quell any remnants of your frustrated growl.

“I’m looking for Choi Beomgyu.”

The portrait took a moment to contemplate your words, squeezing its eyes tightly and tapping its fingers as you assumed it searched the students inside the Gryffindor common room and dorms.

“He’s not here.” It finally concluded, snapping its eyes back open to peer down at you again. Frustration flamed your skin red all the way to your hairline. Hogwarts and it’s grounds were extensive, and searching for him would surely take up your entire night.

“I did happen to see out Quidditch players heading down to the pitch around 5 o’clock, though.” Not needing any further ceremony, you turned on your heels and made your way toward the exit of the castle. The corridors were fairly empty, and the few students still milling around were quick to step out of your way as you hurried through them, robes flowing out behind you. Silently you thanked your lucky stars that no professors had been around to inquire about why you were rushing out of the castle in such a haste.

As soon as you set foot outside, you regretted not stopping by your dorm first to grab your coat and scarf. It had been three days since you woke up to the first frost, and the temperature had only continued to drop into frigid numbers. Even in the limited light provided by the setting sun you could see your breath fogging ahead of you. Cold air curled around your body, seeming to seep underneath your skin with a harsh ferocity. For now you simply tucked your hands deeper into the fabric of your robes, hoping that the heat of them in conjunction with your brisk pace would keep your body warm enough.

The walk to the Quidditch pitch was deceptively far when you traveled alone. Normally you were so distracted by conversation with your friends and the last minute bets between houses that you didn’t have time to mull over how many steps it took you to arrive at the stands; but today you were nothing short of pissed at how far away the compound had been built. Every step you took sent a shock of cold through your feet, your toes completely numb no matter how much you wiggled them inside your sneakers. The trees shuddered with you as you passed them, leaves spiraling to the ground as they finally give in to the pressure of the cold and resign themselves.

Finally you passed through the solid wood of the viewing stands, coming face to face with the expanse of the pitch in front of you. Totally empty. Not a single soul was to be found warming up on the grass or running practice games in the air. Upon listening, you couldn’t even hear any distant chatter that would indicate the team being huddled into the locker room.

“Shit!” A new wave of frustration crashed through your mind. Had you passed them on the way over? It was plausible that they had taken a different route back to the castle and your whole trip had been in vain. Exhausted, you leaned against the wall and listened to the whip of the banners against their metal poles, the clinking of their bindings matching with the steady, loud beat of your pulse. Just as you were about to turn and head back for the castle in your freezing shame, you heard another sound. This one was different, less uniform, almost like a grunt of exhaustion followed by a heavy thud. Your freezing feet moved almost without you to follow the noise. A vicious wind whipped your hair, mussing it up so badly that you had to stop in your tracks to gather it all back into place. You hazarded every step you took, unsure exactly where the source of the noise was coming from other than somewhere behind the stands. On your next step you heard the noise again, much closer this time, and the excitement of being close to solving this mystery had your footsteps speeding up.

Just as you rounded the curving stands, you spotted the culprit, still a little hard to make out due to the distance you had yet to cover, but the colors and shape of a Gryffindor Quidditch uniform were clear. Upon further inspection, it became obvious that the heavy thud you’d been hearing was a the heavy iron Bludger cracking against the magically reinforced bat. There were only two Beaters on the team, and one of them was the very man who’d forced you to walk into the frigid night. You continued your steady approach to the figure, morbidly curious over who it was that was out here pushing themselves to practice alone in the freezing cold.

“Hey!” You yelled as you edged closer, hoping to give whoever it may be a fair warning that you were approaching. Within three feet of the body, there was no mistaking it to be Beomgyu.

“Choi!” You raged, yelling much louder than required for him to hear you. The Bludger was sailing far away from the two of you with a strong hit as you closed the distance almost all the way. “I know you can hear me, asshat.” Beomgyu kept his eyes on the iron ball, effectively ignoring your words. In disbelief you glanced back and forth between his face-seeing the way his eyes narrowed in concentration as the Bludger came closer by the second.

“Is this where you’ve been all night? Playing Quidditch while you were supposed to meet me in the library?” A strong gust of wind knocked the air out of you, shivers running down your spine as you waited for any response from the boy. The Bludger came whistling back toward the two of you, and in the split second you had the foresight to step back he had tensed his shoulders, gripped the end of his bat and took another strong and precise hit against the Bludger, sending it even further away than the last one.

“Lost track of time.” He supplied absentmindedly, turning his head to regard you with lazy eyes.

“What?” You seethed, stepping forward again, placing yourself in front of his frame in hopes of appearing somewhat intimidating. “You lost track of time? Let’s talk about the fact that out project is due in four fucking days, and all we have to show is a single god damn Potion. This was your responsibility,” you pushed your pointed finger into the front of his uniform, the fabric giving way to allow you to feel the firmness of his chest underneath. “I trusted you with the single task of making sure that we could figure out the rest of this project, and you fucked up!” Tears of frustration rimmed your eyes as the worry of failure overwhelmed you. As much as you hated Potions, you’d be damned if Choi Beomgyu became the reason you do poorly.

“Listen, I seriously did just forget,” he pushed at your shoulders forcefully, to which you planted your feet into the ground harder. “Seriously, Y/N, I forgot! Now move!”

“No! You are not,” you grabbed at his forearm and pulled it off of your shoulder, “going to blow me off again! We are going to work on this project right now, even if its the last thing I do!”

“It’s about to be if you don’t fucking move!” He yelled, finally managing to uproot your feet and push you off to the side with so much force that you landed flat on your ass, the cold hardness of the ground knocking the breath out of your lungs. From the ground, you watched helplessly while Beomgyu scrambled to grab his bat in time to hit the whirring Bludger. He was a quick enough thinker to see that there was no way he’d make the move in time, so he simply did the next best thing- turning his back to the ball and ducking his head into his chest, covering the back of his neck with his arms.

With a sickening crack, the Bludger made foul contact with Beomgyu’s back, striking just below his left shoulder blade. The force knocked him forward, his hands barely catching himself as he met the ground harshly. He cried out in pain, the sound bouncing around the stands and piercing your veins. In a hurry, you crawled toward his heaving body and urged him to sit up with the guidance of your hands.

“Are you okay?” The words rushed out of you in a hurry, panic crawling up the back of your throat at the shine of tears streaming down his reddened cheeks.

“Wh-what the hell do you think?” He groaned, body shaking as he struggled to even take a breath.

“Okay, right. Dumb question. Let’s get you to the infirmary, yeah?” His legs shook as he got them under him, something akin to a baby deer taking its first few steps. Instinctively you shot out an arm to steady him, looping your arm behind his back as effectively as you could given the height difference and placement of his injury.

“Merlin, I think I broke my shoulder blade,” he groaned, stumbling across the uneven ground with trepidation.

“You didn’t, I watched. It actually hit right below your shoulder blade, so if anything it’s just bruised, and you probably won’t even need a bone-healing spell, so recovery should be little more than some Devil’s Claw for the pain and-”

“Did someone cast a babbling curse on you? Merlin’s beard. It’s bad enough that you got me hit to begin with, and now I have to listen to you run your mouth!’ His voice was still pinched with pain, an octave lower than normal as he gritted his teeth. The two of you finally reached the threshold of the castle, encapsulated by the warmth of the torches littered all inside.

“I’m trying to help! Did you ever consider the fact that if you had showed up to our scheduled meeting time, you could have avoided being hit. I could have avoided freezing all of my extremities off, and I wouldn’t have to be helping your ass to the infirmary.”

The noise of your bickering outside of the infirmary wing attracted the nurse to the hallway, who furrowed her eyebrow in silent question over the two of you.

“He got hit by a Bludger, ma’am,” you supply as soon as you see her. Her eyes widen instantly as she rushed forward, helping you guide Beomgyu into an empty cot. She shooed you aside as she fretted over him, asking questions about the incident in a low, steady tone before nodding seriously. Without any kind of warning, Beomgyu was pulling the fabric of his uniform over his head, leaving his top half bared to you. Your cheeks burned, and you cleared your throat nervously. The nurse was too busy prodding at the blossoming bruise to have heard your stutter, but Beomgyu was nothing if not aware.

His dark eyes found your form standing just a few paces away, staring unabashedly at the faint hint of his abs that had become visible.

“Somethin’ you like?” He drawled playfully, snapping you out of your reverie.

“Merlin, no.” You sneered, hoping to cover the thickness of your tone as you swallowed hard. “Just trying to decide if I should tell the Quidditch team to get their backup trained for the game tomorrow night.” Beomgyu’s face fell at the implication of your words and a sting of regret struck your heart.

“There will be no need for a backup, dear,” the nurse cooed, shuffling her feet as she gathered up a few healing supplies. She offered a bottle of innocent looking clear liquid to Beomgyu and he drank it instantly, grimacing at what you assumed to be a foul taste. “Now, dear, if you don’t fancy seeing your boyfriend in more pain as I heal him-”

“Please. He is not my boyfriend. I just helped him get here. I’ll be going now, anyway. See you tomorrow?” You asked pointedly, hoping he would understand your incessant need to finish the Potions project. He nodded slightly, and you scanned Beomgyu’s form one more time before excusing yourself to the nurse and scurrying back to your dorm.

——

“I better hear a thank you.” Beomgyu asserted as soon as he slumped in the seat across from you. He had been so quiet in his approach to the table that you hadn’t heard him until now, rocketing your gaze up towards him from the pages of your Transfiguration book.

“Beomgyu,” you breathed, relieved to see that he had been healed and able to return to classes just the morning after the Bludger hit. You schooled your features into cool indifference as soon as you saw his mouth twitch up at the sound of his name. “For what am I thanking you? Withholding information about the project?”

“No,” he shook his head, springing a few carefully parted hairs loose from their spot. “For- number one-” he paused dramatically, drumming his bony fingers against the edge of the high-topped table, “providing you all the information for finishing this project.” Out of seemingly nowhere he produced a thick roll of parchment that unrolled to reveal a step by step explanation. Pages of carefully written instructions went into great detail on every step of the potions that needed to be made. A sense of relief and happiness washed through you, enough to make your hands curl into excited fists as you beamed.

“Turns out our Seeker is good at more than catching a Snitch. She got the highest marks in this class last year, and agreed to share the notes with me.”

“Thank you, Beomgyu. Seriously. I was beginning to worry.”

“I know, I know. It feels good to be your savior, Y/N. Oh, which reminds me of reason number two; the fact that I spared you a Bludger hit last night.”

“I thought we’d already covered this. Most of that encounter was your fault. Plus, your little shove left me with a bruise of my own on my ass.” Pouting, you shifted your weight in an attempt to alleviate the pain against said bruise.

“Just admit it, Y/N,” he leaned forward, his face mere inches from your own so as not to be heard by anyone around. “You’re indebted to me. Two times over.” He was cocky, but you had to admit he had a point. As much grief as he had caused you, he had saved you from both a failing grade and an injury in just under 24 hours.

“You’ve got a point.” Beomgyu shrunk back into his seat, cocking his head to the side as if he hadn’t heard you correctly. It seemed like he was waiting for a witty remark or some kind of argument to his words, but you kept a sure, steady gaze on him instead. Either your eyes were playing tricks on you or there was a slowly building flush of red blooming from under the collar of his cable-knit sweater onto his cheeks. Against your will, your mind reproduced the image of his bared chest from last night.

“What do I owe you?” The question rolled off of your tongue like butter as you took the chance to lean forward to him, balancing carefully on your stool with your elbows planted onto the table.

“I-I just,” Beomgyu frowned at his stutter, apparently upset by his own lack of confidence. His mouth opened and closed again in quick succession and you grinned wider. Another teasing lilt was right at the tip of your tongue, but the booming voice of your professor cracked the tension wide open and had you sitting back on your stool.

——

Two days later, you stand behind your stool in Potions class, wringing your hands together nervously. Your portly professor had spent all morning swirling around the class, leaning over the cauldrons and vials present at every table. He muttered a few things to every pair of students, nodding along as they explained their approach to him. It seemed as if he were grading on the spot, since you caught a glimpse of a quill gliding over a small strip of parchment.

Finally the elder approached your table, bushy eyebrows pinched into one another as he had already begun to scrutinize the potions laid out for him. He said nothing as he approached, quietly appraising your work. One by one, he picked up the vials one by one, peering through the clear bottom and giving them an experimental swirl. He hummed happily to himself and your heart soared. Across the table you noticed Beomgyu looking equally pleased. The professor set down the vials one by one before leveling his gaze onto you.

“How do you think you did?” He questioned, producing the same thin strip of parchment you’d seen him use at other tables. Palms sweating, you stole a glance at Beomgyu who gave you an encouraging wave of his hand.

“I think we did quite well, professor. It took us a bit to get the whole project together, but I feel confident in our end results here.” Nervously, your eyes skated down to his quill, tapping against the parchment rhythmically.

“Well, I think you did quite well, the two of you. These potions are near perfect. Couldn’t make them any better myself.” It felt as if the air had been sucked from your lungs, shocking you beyond belief. Never once in your life did you think you’d be receiving such high marks in Potions- especially with Beomgyu as your partner. Your professor marked a delicate “A+” on the small strip of parchment.

Beomgyu threw a triumphant fist in the air, wiggling in his spot with pure excitement. Your professor let out a belly laugh, spinning around to address the entire class.

“I didn’t want to advertise this since I wanted you all to put in your best, pure efforts to the project. But, now that I’ve reviewed everyone’s work and determined the best,” you swapped a look of confusion with Beomgyu, both assuming that he was referring to you. “I am offering an award to our friends at Station 1!” He motioned to the two of you wildly, robes flailing as you ushered to the front of the room. Your peers glared at the two of you, but you were too far onto cloud nine to care.

“Good thing I got those notes, huh?” Beomgyu muttered to you. Your eyes rolled to the back of your head.

“Good thing I spent all last night making sure we actually had the potions to present.” Keeping your voice low and level to keep him from sensing just how grateful you were for his efforts. The class murmured lowly, surely trading snide remarks about the two of you until the professor cleared his throat pointedly.

From the pocket of his robes, the professor pulled out two small, clear vials. One was pressed into each of your palms, and you stared up at him with confusion. Maybe this was a sign you should have paid more attention to the types of potions around you.

“Luck potions, please use them carefully” he supplied helpfully, swirling back around to face the entire class. “Now, who’s willing to take a photo of me and our winners?” The professor bellowed, producing an old film camera from somewhere and brandishing until someone shuffled off of their stool.

——

Fresh, fluffy snow floated down in gentle waves outside the window. It was the thick of winter now, and despite your best efforts to bundle up you were still huddling into yourself for warmth as students shuffled into Potions around you. Everyone seemed especially lethargic, yearning for the break from classes that Christmas promised. You laid your head onto your folded arms, feeling just as exhausted as the atmosphere suggested.

Sleep had been evading you lately, annoyingly deceptive as you would lay down in bed tired only to be kept awake by your racing mind for several hours. Somehow settling into your arms in this classroom was the most content you’d felt in days. And then you felt a firm push at the back of your head. There was no mistaking who the perpetrator was, especially as you heard the scrape of a stool directly across from you.

“Good morning to you too, Beomgyu.” He was perched perfectly on his stool, eyes wide and bright. For as long as you’d known him, he had thrived in the cold and the snow. “You are obnoxiously cheerful. God damn Gryffindors.”

“Not my fault you’re such a grouch. But I guess it is true that snakes don’t like the cold.”

“Do you ever let up? Or do you get pleasure out of ruining my mood every single morning?”

A grin cracked his lips as a short laugh bubbled through. “Thinking about my pleasure, are you? Concerned I’m not getting enough? I can assure you that-”

“Okay, gross. Stop. Enough. You know that isn’t what I meant.” Quite honestly, you had no time to endure his usual teasing so you simply turned your body away from him, idly watching the professor gather his things at the desk.

“Right, let’s get going! We need all the time we can manage today!” He seemed more jubilant than usual as he centered his own cauldron onto the middle of his desk. “Today we’ll be making love potions. Amortentia, you may know. If you’ll open to page 104, you can find the procedure. It is important to note that this potion cannot make anyone truly fall in love, but it does create a strong attraction to whomever you make with it in mind. Of course, the full effect doesn’t apply unless it is consumed. Today we will simply be brewing it for practice. If done correctly, the potion will emulate-”

“The scent of what you find most attractive,” you muttered absent mindedly, reading directly off of the page you had open in your lap.

“Exactly, miss Y/N. Your potion today will smell like what you find most appealing.” He nodded proudly. A feeling of anxiety rose in your chest as he rattled on. No matter how hard you tried you couldn’t think of the type of scents that would come from the potion. You were quite fond of some scents in candle form, but you wouldn’t classify them as...attractive. Even more worrying was the idea that no matter how hard you tried, you would have to reveal this concoction in front of Beomgyu, who took every chance presented to torment you. Your professor clapped his hands together, marking the beginning of your working period.

The instructions were simple enough, so you took extra care to be sure that the measurements were as perfect as you could get them. The room was shrouded in a hushed silence that indicated everyone was working hard on this. After all, this was the most exciting potion that’d been offered to you all year.

“Can’t wait to see which poor dude you have a crush on,” Beomgyu chuckled as he stirred his pot exactly three times counter-clockwise.

“Could say the same for you! I seriously petty whichever girl you’ve been fancying. Imagine being at the receiving end of your...ick. You’d better tell me who it is so I can send them a warning.” You stirred your pot the same way he had, watching the mixture turn to a stereotypical bright pink. The instructions lead you to allow the mixture to culminate for exactly two minutes before any results could be sought.

The students who happened to work faster than you were already taking a sniff at their potions and recording the scents on their parchment, some pairs gossiping amongst one another about what they smelled. A clank of metal had you whipping your head upwards, locking eyes with Beomgyu as adjusted his small cauldron to bend over his potion. Since it wasn’t your own, there was no scent for you to distinguish, but you watched the way his eyes widened in shock for a second.

Unfortunately you had no time to process his expressions before you had to examine the contents of your own cauldron. Before you could even take a deliberate sniff, your senses were rushed with a mix of sweetened musk, a wood that seemed somewhere between cedar and mahogany, and an addicting citrusy undertone that you eventually recognized as bergamot. You placed it immediately.

“Merlin, Beomgyu. Could you refrain from spraying your cologne right now? Why are you even carrying it with you in the middle of-” The words died in your throat as you realized how incriminating your words had become, seeing as Beomgyu had nothing but his quill in his hands. A feeling of sickness rose in the back of your throat as he let out a hearty laugh.

“My cologne, huh? I actually didn’t even have time to put any on today,” he peered over at your parchment, his height allowing him to easily read the fragrance notes you had scribbled before complaining. “But those are the exact notes of what I wear.”

Your cheeks flamed, the heat radiating so fully through your system that you felt yourself begin to sweat despite how cold you’d been before. There was no worse fate than this, you decided. Amortentia had betrayed you, putting you under the mercy of Beomgyu’s knowing stare. Fuck, did he really have to find out now that the smell of his cologne secretly drove you crazy? That as much as you hated the way he teased and antagonized you, somewhere deep down you’d never quite lost the crush you developed in second year?

“I was beginning to think you might’ve had a crush on me, Y/N. Isn’t that so sweet! The stony little Slytherin finally realizing that she’s attracted to me...this is quite the revelation!” Beomgyu lamented, obviously overjoyed at the new ammo he could load into his teasing.

As much as you searched, you could find no words to defend yourself, as the proof was truly in the potion. A bit defeated, you sunk back into your stool, content to bury your face into your hands until your next class began; but at your new level you could see Beomgyu’s own piece of parchment scrawled with what he had smelled. Reading them upside down was a bit of a challenge, but he was too busy complimenting himself to recognize your analytical stare. Written in a neat list were the scents: sage, some type of berry (juniper?), eucalyptus, something woody (cedar?).

Your heart stuttered, a bitter laugh threatening to spill out and give yourself away. Skillfully you held it back, cursing to any god or deity who might be listening. The notes matched up exactly with the perfume you wore every single day.

——

“You asked him why he sprayed his cologne?” Georgiana gaped at you across the table in the Great Hall. The two of you had joined up for lunch just hours after your Potions class disaster.

“Yes, but that’s not all! Just before I melted into a puddle of my own dispair, I saw his list, and I swear to Merlin it’s the exact notes of my perfume! Look,” you produced the travel-sized bottle from your pocket, flipping it to the back label and listing off the exact ingedients.

“Wow,” Georgiana nodded, sinking her teeth into a piece of pizza. “That’s quite remarkable.”

“Why are you not giving me more of a reaction?” You whined, stomping your foot against the floor petulantly. She raised an eyebrow high, taking a few more chews at her food.

“You want me to be honest? Or nice?” She asked, weighing the invisible options on her hands in front of you.

“Honest, I guess.”

“Oh, I was hoping you’d pick that one. You see, my sweet Y/N, the two of you have been dancing around this for years. Even though you renounced him all those years ago, I still talk to him on occasion. Not to mention he’s friends with Soobin, so I’ve been provided with some...insider information. To be honest, Soobin and I have both been waiting for the day the two of you finally stopped bickering and like...made out.”

Your face twisted unpleasantly, shocked at her words. “Insider information?” You croaked, creases forming in your forehead. Georgiana smiled devilishly and you swore you could see red horns rising from her fiery hair.

“Beomgyu talks about you all the time. Apparently, back when he was dating Klara, he would often talk to Soobin about how she never bantered with him like you did. They broke up because he kept comparing her to you. Told Soobin that he’s had a crush on you just as long as you have, but he thought you thoroughly hated him.”

“He has a crush on me?” You sputtered, stomach twisting into knots somewhere between disbelief and excitement. Georgiana full on laughed upon seeing your face, the cackle permeating through the air and turning heads.

“Well, I’m not gonna be the one to bring it up. If he’s got a crush on me, he can bring it up.” You suddenly decide, finally indulging in the pizza that had been waiting for you since you sat down.

“That’s my girl, stubborn to the very end.” Georgiana grinned and offered her hand for a high five that you eagerly returned.

——

The weekend brought you a much needed break from both schoolwork and all things Beomgyu related. Christmas break was fast approaching, and all of your professors had surprisingly laid off on assignments. It seemed as if they were just as tired of grading as you were of doing the work.

Unsurprisingly you found yourself in the library, sitting underneath the twinkling of the fairy lights set up especially for the holidays. Most other students were out socializing, so the room was pleasantly vacant. As a result you were able to settle into one of the plush velvet couches that were usually occupied.

After roaming the aisles you’d found an anthology of wizard poetry that piqued your interest. Settling beteeen the cushions of the couch with a book made you feel the most at home you ever had, cracking open the delicate binding and balancing the book in your stomach as you began to read.

There was no way to tell how long you’d been reading, but by your estimations it was only about 20 minutes before someone was looming above you. Startled, you lifted your gaze over the book to see none other than Beomgyu standing before you. He was decked out in a sage green sweater paired with slightly oversized beige slacks. He had forgone his robes, but his Head Boy pin still shined on the breast of his shirt. Typical.

“Can I help you?” You asked, finally sitting up to regard him.

“I thought you’d be here.” He said simply, shuffling on his feet awkwardly. You blinked.

“That doesn’t answer my question,” you poked, slipping your book shut dramatically. “Did you want to ask me something?” Beomgyu licked at his lips before rubbing his fingers against his forehead.

“Merlin, why do you make everything so hard?” He groaned and seemingly became so exhausted that he collapsed onto the ornate rug under his feet. Seeing that you’d riled him up so much by doing practically nothing sent excitement through your veins. As much as the bickering annoyed you, there was no denying the thrill you felt when giving him back a taste of his medicine.

“What exactly am I making so hard? I don’t even know what you’re here for. To be honest I’m shocked you managed to find me in the library. I figured you would start to burn at the door and have to find a different way in.”

Beomgyu rolled his eyes, a hint of a smirk playing at his pillowy lips.

“Don’t act like you don’t know why I’m here.” He finally began to reveal the award winning smile you’d come to know whenever he teased you. “I know what Georgiana told you.” His voice was low, so quiet that if there had been any other souls in the library you’d have missed it.

Your eyes flew open and he flushed instantly. “You two aren’t exactly quiet at the Great Hall, and I’ve got more than a few friends.” It was your turn to flush red, wondering just how many conversations between you and Georgiana had been overheard by other people.

“So you know that I said...”

“Why do you think I’m here? All it took was me knowing you also...you know,” he picked at the nonexistent loose threads in the carpet. Honestly, you were shocked at how reserved he had become in the face of this confrontation. All traces of his usual confidence seemed to have vanished in the moment.

“I do like you, Beomgyu. I had a massive crush on you in second year, but then we got into that fight and-”

“I wouldn’t call it a fight,” he countered animatedly. “You just never understood my humor. All this time, I was hoping that you would catch the hints.”

“Hints?” It felt like your eyes were going to fall out of your head with how wide you held them. “You call those hints? I’d call those lackluster clues, at best.”

He was quiet for a moment, examining the smirk on your lips carefully. In a moment of impulse you slid off of the couch to sit opposite him on the floor, knees touching. Your heart hammered against your ribs.

“I’m sorry,” he muttered, gripping at his thighs nervously. “Didn’t know how else to go about it.”

“That’s okay, me either, obviously.” A rueful laugh escaped your lips, and he returned one just as easily. Up this close, the planes of his face were defined by the delicate light provided from the fairy lights. Shyly you shared glances, neither of you knowing quite how to deal with the charged anticipation in the air.

“Will you...come to the last Quidditch game tomorrow?” He finally spoke, snapping your attention back to him.

“Only if I don’t have to wear one of your ugly jerseies.” Feeling bold, you leaned forward just a few inches, beginning to close the gap between you gradually.

“Fine,” he acquised, leaning forward just the same as you had, his breath fanning hot over your face. “In exchange for not wearing a jersey, how about you...” he tapped at his lips cheekily. A surge of excitement tumbled through you.

“That’s a shit way of asking me to kiss you for the first time, Choi.” Nevertheless you leaned forward further, bumping your nose against his own before you finally pecked him firmly on the lips. You felt ridiculously shy, like you were having your first kiss all over again, but Beomgyu smiled reassuringly, pulling your hands into his own and linking them together. The touch encouraged you both, and your lips collided with more assurance than before.

The faint scent of pumpkin juice lingered on his lips, and you wondered how many bottles he’d drank before finally deciding to come find you. Finally you both sought a new breath, taking a moment to close your eyes and collect yourself. When they fluttered back open you saw Beomgyu staring back at you intently, pupils reflecting the strands of lights strung above you.

He mumbled something so quietly that you couldn’t even hear it at your close distance.

“What was that?” You asked, wondering if you’d caught the end of a charmingly romantic thought.

“I said you’re in need of practice.” He smirked, leaning back of his hands cockily.

“Fuck you, man,” you slapped at his shoulder with a firm clap. He gasped, a hand covering his heart as if he were being sworn into a committee.

“Already? I didn’t take you for such an impure heart!” Another hearty laugh bounced around the library and you ducked your head into your hands, resigning to the fact that you were stuck with him.

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whatifyoulivelikethat · 3 years

Text

snake | myg

pairing(s): yoongi x reader

summary: Your parents have no qualms on doing whatever they can to climb the social ladder. That includes assigning you a betrothed you've never met, an offering to the crown prince. You, the one the gossipers whisper under their breath... the Snake Princess.

warnings: implied parental emotional and physical abuse; language; non-idol!AU - prince!Yoongi x aristocrat!reader, ft overprotective (but secretly soft), tattooed, little brother!JK; based on this

–

“I don’t care what our father said, you’re not marrying him!”

You scratched your ear, partly shielding it from the loud voice of your brother.

“He’s an asshole!”

“You don’t know him?” you offered, affixing your earring, somewhat annoyed. The yellow gold wasn’t quite your style. Your parents liked such gaudy, ugly things.

Both in fashion and tradition, unfortunately.

“Do you?” your brother shot back, throwing himself up from your bed where he was yelling at the ceiling about nothing he could change. It was a favorite past time of his, along with following you around like a talkative shadow.

“No, that’s why I’m meeting him today,” you replied dryly. You switched to the other ear, adding the dragon-shaped ear cuff above the gold earring. Your parents hated it when you added such aggressive accessories – they’re not womanly, they would say – but if you were going to be betrothed to some guy on the sole basis that they had ambitions and he was the man who so happened to be the next-in-line for the throne, you weren’t going to lie about what kind of woman you were.

“Aren’t you pissed?”

You shrugged. “Is it so bad?”

“Yes!”

You sighed and flickered your eyes to the mirror, seeing Jeon Jungkook’s furious expression, long black hair tied back with lingering strands framing his high cheekbones, his black and gold robes wild, poorly tied and revealing half of his tanned, toned chest. His dark brown eyes flashed, pressing his cherry-painted lips together, jawline sharp and defiant. That’s how Jungkook always looked, messy, undone, borderline furious.

Everyone called him the Reckless Prince.

You just called him little brother.

“Noona…”

“Hmm?”

You saw him frown and you looked away, running a hand through your hair, browsing your hair accessories. You used to have an aide to help you at one point, but you told your parents to get rid of them, preferring to get ready by yourself. And besides, Jungkook liked to burst in and interrupt you with his relentless tirades about how unfair your arranged marriage was. There was no point in having hired help when you could coerce your brother into doing things as you put up with him.

“Can I brush your hair?”

“You have arms and hands, so you’re physically capable, yes.”

You heard him click his tongue in annoyance and smirked, shifting your eyes to the mirror. He was behind you now, face no longer visible. It didn’t matter. You already knew his cross expression quite well. He snatched the ornate comb from your vanity, the black snake head clearly visible on the side of his right wrist, inked near his thumb. Your parents scolded and beat him for getting it, but Jungkook could care less, breaking the wooden paddle with ease, right out of your mother’s hand.

You hadn’t said anything.

The rumors called you the Snake Princess.

Quick-witted, sharp, vicious. Not to your face though, because that was just foolishness. It wouldn’t be only your wrath they would be evoking.

Jungkook ran the comb through your hair, gently separating the strands, careful not to pull too hard. He was better than any aide anyway. They merely yanked and pulled you into their standard of beauty, ignoring your opinions or input, always citing that it was important to not look like a peasant, important to always look above your status, using your beauty to save face.

Saving face.

You hated those words.

“What if he’s a horrible person?” your brother asked quietly, tucking the strands away from your eyes only for them to slip back stubbornly.

“Then he’s a horrible person,” you replied, applying your makeup. “And you’ll probably do something about it.”

Jungkook made a noise between an aggravated bear and an injured tiger.

“If he so much as puts one fingertip on you, I’ll kill him.”

You snorted. “I’d hate to tell you what marriage entails, Jungkook.”

The comb in your hair paused.

His anger subsided, just like that.

“You’re really going to do it?” he asked softly. “Really, really?”

You heard the pain in Jungkook’s voice.

You recalled when you received the news many years ago, silent fury as your parents gave you away, turning you into a transaction to raise their own reputation and status. Your reaction was nothing to your little brother’s, him running to your room and crying in your arms, distraught and upset that you were leaving him, declaring he hated your parents, everyone, and everything.

“You’re supposed to protect me,” Jungkook had sobbed, already too big for you to hold like this but you did anyway, patting his head and wiping his tears with your sleeve. “You’re supposed to be here, with me, forever and always.”

He had taken your hand, tucking his fingers in yours, pressing your pinkies together.

“You promised me.”

And you had, from the very beginning, the shy kid always following after you and making you speak for him, your parents yelling and scolding him to be a man, but you defending him, taking the slaps meant for him, sneaking him sweets when he was hiding his tears, telling him it was okay to cry and that noona would stay here and listen to his worries, no matter if it was as stupid as a butterfly flying away or the teacher once again reprimanding him for his poor scores.

The amount of pressure they put on him just because he was the son was immense.

“I wanna play,” he had cried softly. “I don’t have to study anymore.”

“You want to be stupid?” you had teased, patting his head. “What if I had my lessons with you? I can make that happen.”

“R-Really?”

So, you made it happen, telling your parents and tutors that it would be better for him to be exposed to more complex concepts earlier rather than later and watching someone learn would improve his own scores. You made yourself a better student for his benefit and he, in turn, followed obediently, doing what you did, always overjoyed to hear your praise.

You and your snake tongue could made anything happen for him.

“This servant is bothering me.”

You found some questionable information on that servant and they resigned rather quickly.

“I don’t like the girl our father introduced me to.”

Suddenly said girl was no longer interested in Jungkook. For… reasons.

“I wish I could go on vacation, even for a couple days.”

That one got you both beaten for your three-day adventure to the sea, mostly because you had to run away from your duties to do it. But it was worth it to see the smile on Jungkook’s face.

Then Jungkook became a teenager.

You might have taught him that rules were for old people, for the generation too uptight.

He wanted to do a whole lot of things and you made it happen. Getting him out of those sticky situations was a bit tough, but nothing unmanageable. And now Jungkook was a young adult who did not care about anyone’s opinion other than yours, getting tattooed and spending all of his time with his friends, lackadaisical and free, your parents giving up and calling him a disgrace, relying on your marriage to restore the reputation they valued so much, the face they themselves ruined with their own poor decisions, taking out their frustrations on you and Jungkook, sometimes without warning.

You stayed home, playing good daughter so Jungkook could be the bad son.

Ah, maybe it was your fault he was the Reckless Prince.

You turned, looking up at him now from the corner of your eye, up his loose robes and exposed collarbone, up the line of his jaw that was similar to yours, his lips not quite as full, his round brown orbs that were actually much more innocent and purer than he liked to admit, similar to your eye shape.

But not the same.

Because your eyes were sharper, cold-blooded, predatory.

Even with Jungkook, there was no mistaking the power behind your gaze.

“Do you think just because I’m married to some man that he can control my life?” you said with a sly smile, your lips painted lush red. “I’ll come visit you whenever I want. You can come whenever you want. You can live with me if you want.”

You turned back, sweeping your hair and twisting it in place, deftly and quickly pinning it back, leaving some strands loose and messy that your parents would highly disapprove of, but why did that matter? If this man was to be your husband, then he would see you completely undone at one point, so he should get used to it.

Your parents wouldn’t approve of the black and dark green combination you had chosen either, but that’s why you learned how to sew to dress yourself as you liked. You have to be a lady. You were a lady. Just your version of a lady and not theirs. They tried to gatekeep you by saying that the pink and yellow fabrics were all they could afford. They had a tendency to underestimate your craftiness.

No obstacle was too high for the Snake Princess to slither over.

“Really?” Jungkook asked as you stood up, smoothly adjusting the tie at your waist.

You chuckled at him as he began to follow you out of your bedroom.

“If that’s what you want, I’ll do it for you.”

“You brought your brother.”

“I don’t bring him anywhere. He comes and goes as he pleases.”

Jungkook was sitting behind you, arms crossed, glaring at the dark-haired man sitting in front of you. You had mildly fixed his appearance before entering only from him to push up his sleeves so he could reveal the entire snake tattoo wrapped around his arm, a black snake surrounded by thorned vines.

“Hmm.”

This man had requested to meet you first, alone, without the parents. Untraditional, but as long as his father agreed to the request, it was done. Your father had no say in the matter, although he did protest rather loudly and uncouthly.

You had poured the tea for your future husband and you.

Neither of you were drinking it.

The man before you had a piercing gaze, cloud-white skin, shapely lips. Somehow, he surprised you by being dressed in black and gold as well, although he was much neater than Jungkook, black hair tied back in a the usual, curated traditional style.

“I intend in marrying you, you know.”

He had a deep, rough voice, reminding you of dead leaves and winter.

“Is that not the point of this meeting?” was your dry response.

A dark eyebrow lifted.

Jungkook clicked his tongue dismissively.

Those shapely lips curved into a slow smirk.

“I thought I wouldn’t like you,” the dark-haired man mused, reaching over to the teacup and pulling it to him. “I was fully prepared to refuse this proposal and put your family more in the dirt than your brother has already put them into.”

“You bas–” Jungkook hissed, but you held up a hand, cutting him off.

You kept your eyes on those dark brown orbs, cat-like and predatory. He took a deep inhale of the aroma of the tea, letting out a satisfied, smokey sigh.

“I thought you would be like the others. Prim, proper, begging for me to take your hand.”

You raised an eyebrow. “What do I need to beg for? You either will or you won’t. It has nothing to do with me.”

A dark chuckle. “Indeed.”

He took a long sip of the tea, savoring it. You watched him swallow, his Adam’s apple bobbing, tongue flickering out to lick his lips. Slowly lowering his head, scrutinizing gaze on you. He made you wait for his words.

“And besides, snakes can’t kneel, can they, Snake Princess?” he purred.

“Don’t you dare call her that!”

“No, they cannot,” you replied calmly, ignoring Jungkook’s outburst, staring into the eyes of the man who was going to decide whether or not you were going to be his wife.

“They can’t pray either.”

The dark-haired man tilted his head, intrigued.

“I have no need for gods to be able to live the life I want, Min Yoongi,” you said quietly, venomous edge to your voice. “The ties you put on me cannot restrain me from living as frivolously or ambitiously as I like.”

Min Yoongi, the man who would decide whether you would live an honorable or disgraceful life, the man who was next-in-line, the crown prince. You were meant to be his, but, unlike you, he was free to refuse. Unlike you, he had nothing to lose. Unlike you, he could destroy your life in a heartbeat with a simple no.

“You believe that?” Yoongi questioned, daring you.

You didn’t back down, small serpentine smile on your lips.

“I do not need to believe when I know.”

Silence.

Then Yoongi’s shoulders shook, raspy laughing bubbling from his throat, smirk on his lips.

“You want me to refuse. You want to ruin your parents’ lives.”

You didn’t say anything, your smile fading.

“Ah, but the problem is, I really do like you, Snake Princess,” Yoongi hummed. “You sharp tongue and you even sharper mind. A simpler man would have been tricked by you.” He tapped his long fingers against the table, keeping his feline poise directed at you. “I did not want some placid, useless little thing but a real woman, someone who isn’t afraid to say what she thinks. Why have a trophy when you can have a weapon?”

He placed his chin on the back of his other hand, clicking his tongue thoughtfully.

“What shall we do then? You absolutely must be my wife.”

“You–” Jungkook hissed, rising up behind you, glaring at Yoongi over your shoulder. “You know she doesn’t want to marry you and yet you’re going to do it anyway?”

The dark-haired man raised an eyebrow. “She doesn’t want to marry me because she wants her parents to pay for using her so carelessly to further their status. However,” he added with a sweep of his hand on the table, palm upward towards you. “Has she actually said she has no interest in me as a person? During this entire meeting, has she declared that I, the crown prince, am not to her liking?”

Yoongi gave Jungkook a sharp look.

“Do you think she would hide her disdain for me if she had some?”

Silence.

“N… Noona?”

“Yes, Jungkook?”

“You don’t like him at all… right?”

Silence.

You let out a deep breath, slow and controlled.

“Hmm, you are very intuitive.”

Yoongi grinned. “You know we would be a good match, you and I. Here,” he murmured, pointing to the table. “On the throne.” Pointing outside, indicating the land. His cat-like eyes locked with your snake-like gaze, lips forming his next words slowly and deliberately.

“In bed.”

Your eyes trailed from those glittering dark eyes to his pleased smirk. Not a malicious expression somehow. An exciting one. You fully expected to be walking into this room to tear down an arrogant, gaudy man with grandiose self-centeredness.

Instead, it was Min Yoongi.

He ticked his chin to Jungkook, now right next you instead of behind you, clutching your arm tightly.

“Do you want him to be with you? That could be arranged. I can make that happen.”

You really thought you would hate Min Yoongi and yet it seemed as if you were being drawn closer and closer to him. You pursed your lips, not ready to give up yet. He continued.

“And, of course, there’s no reason for your parents to enjoy luxuries that they didn’t earn, is there?”

You narrowed your eyes at him. Yoongi smiled, calm with an underlying slyness.

“That would reflect on you if you treated your in-laws poorly,” you responded coolly.

Yoongi shrugged. “And so? I still have you.” He tilted his head. “Why take a wife if you’re not prepared to do anything for her?” He nodded to himself, tapping his fingertips on the table once more. “Whatever you want, I can make it happen. Be it your brother tagging along, your parents’ lives in ruins…”

Yoongi’s eyes found yours and there was a kindness, already knowing your and him were meant to be.

You weren’t so sure.

And yet.

His next words made you fall in love.

“If that’s what you want, I’ll do it for you.”

masterpost

#yoongi x reader #yoongi scenarios #bts fanfic #yoongi x you #min yoongi x reader #min yoongi x you

581 notes · View notes

pseudonympls · 3 years

Text

October 31st

Spooky cover art by the insanely talented @pharlapcartoonist 🖤

Bo Burnham x Reader. AFAB Reader.

Rating: Teen

TW: alcohol, kissing. Suggestive language. Fluff, friends to lovers. Sex references. Brief nudity.

Era: College AU

Just a lil cute bit of fluff, needed a sweet distraction while I’m writing the Sad Fic haha, hope you enjoy! Wrote the entire thing on my phone which is weird for me, so just a lil drabble :3 College Halloween AU vibes.

Word Count: 3.4k (sorry, bit too long for a drabble, can anyone shut the fuck up?)

* * *

His eyes caught yours over the pumpkin piñata. Devilish glances over punch laced with cheap vodka, candy corns sticking to the bottom of your red solo cup as you grabbed it off the table.

Sickly sweet, that blonde boy.

‘Don’t fear the reaper’s’ chords thrum out of the amps all lined up against the staircase. Screams of joy from the other partygoers, vampire fangs, too small witches brooms and old sheets with eye holes fly through the air in a flurry as the dance floor fills.

You see him, above the throngs of people. Towering over most of them, actually. An absent expression painted on his face, about as much effort put into his costume as you’d expect from someone looking so forlorn at a party - a black skeleton onesie.

Glancing down to your own outfit, much of the same could be said about it. Fishnet tights, a red dress paired with a red hoodie. Luckily red was your colour and you didn’t struggle to find these items, already in your wardrobe. A happy coincidence as your classmates dragged you along to another party you didn��t want to attend.

Your friend gallops towards you through the mess of people, seemingly annoyed at your lack of active “partying”.

“Hey, you!” She sidles up next to you, pulling the hood up over your head and laughing a little.

“Haven't found your wolf yet?” She jibes, thinking herself funny.

“Uh, the wolf kills little red riding hood, why would I wanna find him?” You reply, taking another large gulp of your beverage, delighting in the hot sensation of the alcohol slipping down your throat.

You leave the hood up - it’s not as if you did much to your hair prior to coming out tonight, and it was more immediately apparent what your costume was. Heading back to the table, complete with pumpkin pattern plastic tablecloth, candy strewn everywhere and the all important punch.

Filling your cup once more, the red liquid dribbling down the sides, you bring your hand up to lick the remnants off. You then made the mistake of turning your eyes upward, catching the skeleton’s eye from across the table: fistful of candy corn in one hand, and a…was that a plastic skeleton arm? He made it wave to you across the table.

You placed a sticky hand to your mouth, the alcohol affording you some confidence. Soft giggles erupted through your chest.

The skeleton was Bo, you’d seen him ever so often in your Theatre class, when he bothered to show up, that is. He was always a heavy presence in the room, forever asking the professor abstract, in depth questions about the subject at hand. That, and being the class clown.

There were rumours going around that he was flunking every class, and that he’d be gone by next semester. A small part of you hoped it wasn’t true. He provided a nice distraction whenever you didn’t feel like paying attention.

The blond boy with the glasses, forever running his hands through his hair, always trying to catch the professor out with his wit.

He offered you a snaggle toothed grin from across the table and motioned his head to the left. You pointed in the general direction, to which he nodded, raising his eyebrows.

The distinct lack of his glasses tonight made his bright blue eyes shine brighter in the technicolour whirl that was the party’s lights. Standing out stark against the carnival craziness.

Inwardly you took a deep breath and followed over to where he’d motioned, finally reaching your destination, you looked up at him, adjusting your hood. He towered over you, smiling down at you from what you thought must be well over six and a half feet.

He said your name, his deep voice cutting through the loud music like a hot knife through butter.

“Right?” He smiled, raising his own cup to his lips briefly.

A little shocked that he’d remembered your name, hearing it roll off his tongue. It sounded good between his lips.

“Yeah, yeah, intro to theatre” you nodded along, trying to keep your cool.

“Bo? Right?” You added, and he smiled.

“So, what do you think of Professor Walker?” He starts, your stomach drops. Casual small talk bitching about the professor? You had hoped you’d talk about something a little more interesting.

“Uhh, yeah, Walker’s just so…dry” you began, chuckling a little.

He nodded, crossing his hands over his torso, scrunching his nose into a scowl.

“Yeah, like, that man does not understand creativity in the slightest. Every time I ask a somewhat pervasive or interesting question he just fucking shuts me down. Like the only thing he’s interested in is getting us to pass intro to theatre, ugh.”

You nod along, but he must realise he’s rambling, as he runs an errant hand through his fluffy dark blond locks, looking at you as a form of apology.

“So anyway, what brings you here, Red?” - he asks, and it’s as if your skin tries to match your outfit as his reference to your costume makes the skin on your cheeks light up.

“Oh, um, annoying roommates” you nod back to your friend, who was in the middle of trying to split the pumpkin piñata in two.

“Hmm, same” he nods, finishing his drink in one long gulp and setting his cup down.

“So, do you wanna get the hell outta here?” He asks, half of his lips turning into a sly smile.

“Fuck yeah” you shout over the music, his sly smile breaks into a full on grin, as he grabs your sticky fingers and leads you out of the obnoxiously decorated frat house.

The music thumping in your ears, you struggle to keep up with his large strides, each breath becoming a breathless laugh as you pass all sorts of scenes on the way out.

You both step out into the cool October night, suddenly thankful a hoodie was part of your costume, you hurriedly zipped it up.

Looking down at you, he pulled his own hood up around his head, and asked “do you wanna see something kinda cool?” The thrill of leaving a party you didn’t wanna be at hadn’t quite worn off, and you nodded expectantly.

You both began to walk in the direction of the library, a slight haze from the alcohol settled in on your brain. Warm, fuzzy, you followed him.

“Wait, Bo, are we going to the library? Surely it’s closed now?”

“It is” he replied, stuffing a hand into his pockets and pulling out his keys, picking out one from the rest, he waved it in front of your face. “But locks don’t really matter, when you’ve got the key” he smiled.

Your bemused luck prompted more of an explanation. “Oh right, yeah I was a library assistant first semester, and they just…forgot…to take the keys off me” he smiled again, and your belly did little flips at seeing his eyes wrinkle at the corners, the dimple on his right cheek.

In that moment, it was good enough an explanation, and you both walked up to the double doors to the library, making sure to check that the coast was clear before unlocking the doors and slipping inside.

Hearing heeled footsteps down the corridor you both froze, ducking down beneath the glass panes in the door.

He pulled a finger up to his lips, trying not to laugh himself, as you both stared at each other, part in fear of getting caught, part in pure excitement.

His position crumpled up against the door looking significantly more uncomfortable than yours, you both waited for the footsteps to recede into the night.

Finally, when you were both sure whoever it was had gone, you burst into stifled laughter, as Bo motioned for you to come further into the room.

The college’s library was pretty impressive, as most libraries usually are. Ornate but unassuming, literary yet humble.

Feeling in your pocket for the hip flask, you unscrewed the top and took a small swig. Bo looked over at you and extended his hand out towards you, eyebrows raised.

“It’s gin, do you drink gin?” You asked snarkily.

“I’m a college student, I drink anything that’s alcoholic” he whispered as he took the flask from you, took a sip and flinched substantially.

“Why are you whispering? No-ones working in here” you replied, making a conscious effort to speak at a normal volume.

“Habit, I guess” he whispers back knowingly.

You kept on walking in a particular direction for a few moments before impatience gets the better of you.

“So, Bo, I like books a fair bit, but what’s so cool about a library at night?” You say, your voice wavering in and out of a whisper. Habit, you guess.

“You’ll see” he takes you through a side door and up two, three, four, five flights of stairs. You reach the top - nowhere else to go but a tiny door in the corner of the hallway.

“What is that….” You cackle, pointing to the small door, watching his expression remain serious.

“Wait,, we’re going in there?” You raise your eyebrows at him and he nods, finding his keys again, looking at each of them close up, before settling on the oldest looking one of the bunch.

He crouches down to reach the keyhole, and opens the door. It swings open with a surprising, and spooky, creek.

He gestures for you to go first, a slight breeze is flowing through the space where the door was, and faint twinkling lights can be seen. Lucky for you, you don’t have to crouch to get through the door.

Walking through, your breath feels like it was stolen. The campus spread out beneath your feet, twinkling lights from the street lamps litter the ground. Tall oak trees usually standing proud and tall look tiny and insignificant now. The far off hubbub of all the Halloween parties is but a distant whisper.

“Nice, huh?” You feel him behind you and you turn around, face to face.

“Yeah it’s pretty…spectacular…I didn’t even know the library had a rooftop!” You say, marvelling at your surroundings still.

“It doesn’t, not really, this is just a fancy fire escape” he gestures to the metal stairs next to the door.

He kneels down and sits, cross legged on the floor, not too far from the edge. You follow suit. The alcohol steadying your fear of heights.

“I come here to think” he says “to look, you know, have some existential crises from time to time” his voice lilts as he looks at you, shadows playing on his features. The fuzz of the night time obscuring him a little.

“Do you think about leaving?” You absentmindedly ask. “Shit, sorry” you realise you may have crossed a line.

He scoffs “don’t be sorry, I’ve heard the rumours, they’re not true, by the way, I’m not flunking… everything” he laughs darkly.

“I just…I dunno, I don’t know if this is the path for me, If it ever truly was…there’s just nothing really keeping me here, y’know?” His voice turns a little quiet at the end. You nod along, wanting to hear more.

But he doesn’t say anything else for a while, to break the silence you reach for your hip flask, taking a sip and handing it to him.

“I know what it’s like…to wonder if this is where you’re meant to be…” you agree, staring out across the campus.

“But you seem so, calm and collected, so smart, I saw you carry that group project a while back - that was definitely all you” he grinned, and you felt the familiar flush return. Hoping it was dark enough that he didn’t see.

Seemingly enjoying the effects of the liquid courage, he carried on “I’ve been meaning to say something to you for months now, I just really admire the way you carry yourself, I…” he trails off and you glance down at both your hands on the cold concrete ground, fingers mere millimetres from one another’s.

You fight the urge to close the gap.

“I’m really not what I seem, I’m a mess under this facade” you laugh into your hip flask.

“I’d like to see what’s underneath the facade” he whispers, and you question yourself whether you even hear him say it.

If it’s just the whistling of the wind - you are several storeys up after all. Your stomach drops and you hear him say “fuck, sorry, that was inappropriate”

You awkwardly laugh, and adjust your hand, your fingers accidentally on his now. Stark contrast between the cold hard concrete with the warmth and softness of his skin.

Inhaling sharply you turn to face him, the left side of his face gently illuminated by the lights below. You see him close the gap between you and you whisper “I don’t think it was inappropriate” you feel his warm breath caress your face, smelling sweetly of gin.

“No?” He whispers back, the closeness of his voice making you tremble, or is it the coolness of this Halloween night?

Catching his eyes in the dark, you felt brazen enough to test the waters, seeing the way the shadows played on his jawline, the twinkle in his eye reflecting the lights below you, now was the time.

“No, maybe I want you to see what’s under…here” feeling a surge of confidence you lean in, joining your lips together.

His lips are soft but firm, not afraid to apply just the right amount of pressure, of wetness, on yours. His fingers flex beneath yours and his other hand enters your hood, softly cradling your head, fingers slowly pressing through your hair.

Moaning into the kiss, he leans further into you, deepening it. Tongues brushing up against one another’s in perfect rhythm, your heart feeling like it might burst out of your chest, any minute now.

Just as you were wondering how far he was willing to go tonight, he pulled back from you “do you wanna go…somewhere a bit warmer?” His breathing erratic, hearing him almost pant made you feel feral.

“Mmhm, yeah” you squeezed his fingertips with yours as you both got to your feet. He looked down at you, his expression unreadable, grabbing your hand and starting to laugh, he pulled you with him out the door and down the stairs.

Upon exiting the library, you took the lead this time, sticky fingers intertwining as you led this tall skeleton to your dorm, both laughing all the while.

Fumbling your key in the lock you felt Bo behind you, his large hands resting on your hips, such a distraction that you couldn’t quite get the key in the lock.

He crouched down and rested his chin on your shoulder, his hair tickling you as he tilted his head to the side and began kissing your neck softly.

Finally opening the door you sighed in relief seeing that your roommate was still out, probably at the Halloween party.

No sooner had the door shut, you were pressed against it, Bo continuing his teasing kisses up and down your neck, fistfuls of your hair between his fingers as your eyelids slid shut in pleasure.

Even through the haze of gin you can’t quite believe this is all happening. Sliding the deadbolt across the door, you push him back toward your bed.

As your bodies slicked together, mouths barely parting, finding each other in the dark, attaining your climaxes.

Fingers, tongues working expertly, eyes watching intently as the other tipped over the edge, sweat glistening by the full moon on that cloudless October night, you were haunted by a faint sadness, that this was all it would ever be.

Falling apart by another’s hand had never felt so good.

Sated by the gin and your orgasm, you fell into a deep slumber. The chill of the night crept through your window, prompting Bo to pull the covers tight around both your naked bodies.

Draping his long arm over your body as you slept, nestled against one another perfectly.

Still, the harsh light of day inevitably came along, as it always did.

Your eyes slowly focused on your room, adjusting to the cold autumnal light.

Feeling Bo’s slender naked body pressed up against yours you couldn’t suppress a smile as you enjoyed the cosy bubble, that you were sure enough was about to burst, any moment now.

You hadn’t exactly played the field these past few years, you’d had boyfriends sure, and some casual encounters, but something deep within whispered that you didn’t want this to be just a one time thing…

Feeling you stir must have pulled him from sleep, as his hand, draped along your stomach travelled down to your hip, tracing along the side of your body, leaving a trail of electricity in its wake.

“Morning” his deep voice thick with sleep caressed the backs of your ears. You replied with a small “hey” as his hand pulled you over to face him.

Suddenly feeling self conscious in the cold light of day, you pulled a hand up to your face, parting your fingers so your eyes could peek through.

“Don’t look at me, god knows what I look like” you tried to joke, but your insecurity was shining through just fine.

He tuts and whispers your name, gently pulling your fingers away from your face. “You look…lovely actually, hair just the right amount disheveled…and I mean that’s partly my fault…” his words still softly garbled by the morning, felt gentle and genuine.

“Your nose is a little red, are you cold or are you just really fucking cute?” He smiled, booping your nose with the tip of his finger. You felt like it just got redder.

Seeing this goofy gorgeous man in your bed that morning, you felt the urge to kiss him again, as if you didn’t get enough of his body just a few hours ago.

You began to lean in, and he took his cue, nestling closer to you, lips eagerly waiting, and then, keys jangling by the door.

Shit, your roommate was back.

But, you had used the deadbolt. Upon finding her keys wouldn’t work in the lock she began shouting your name, and banging on the door.

You and Bo leapt out of bed, scrambling for your clothes, you suppressed a giggle as you saw Bo’s boner bouncing around in his haste to find underwear, socks.

“Hey…” a muffled voice comes through the door “we agreed to use the deadbolt if we had a guy round…DO YOU HAVE A GUY IN THERE?!” Your roommate shouts, part anger, part joy.

“Breakfast?” You mouth to Bo, now almost fully decent. He nodded at you with a small smile.

Silently you counted down 3…2…1 as you opened the door and hurriedly moved past your roommate.

“I’ll explain later byeeee” you screamed down the hallway with Bo in tow. Both your hoods up you looked a sight, cheap, tall skeleton and red riding hood, on the 1st of November.

Gulping down your second cup of coffee to help dull the small headache that was blooming in the back of your head, you looked across the booth.

Bo, dressed as a skeleton. Bo the tall classmate you’d had for almost two years, Bo, the man you shared your body with last night for the first time.

There was an atmosphere for sure, and it wasn’t just the greasy smog in the air from the open kitchen across the bar.

He smiled at you as he drank deep from his own coffee cup, looking like he was about to start speaking at any given moment.

At the final time his mouth opened, ready to talk, the waitress came over and placed your pancakes in front of both of you.

Both uttering thanks you started on your food, the sounds of knife and fork scratching against the tin plates the only noises for a while.

You decided to be the one to break the silence.

“So…got any plans for today?” You started, it wasn’t the best, no, but you sort of just wanted to hear his voice again.

He whispers your name, and says “I don’t wanna do that small talk thing with you, I really don’t” and for a moment you feel hurt. He doesn’t wanna talk?

“But you know what, I might get some studying in,” he sighs, setting his knife and fork aside “I really don’t wanna come off too strong or anything, and tell me if this seems too…y’know, weird or whatever, but I think…maybe”

He grasps you from across the table, brushing his thumb across the back of your hand as he speaks.

“I think, maybe I’ve found my reason to stay here…”

#bo burnham fanfiction #bo burnham reader #bo burnham fanfic #bo burnham fluff #self insert #bo burnham x you #bo burnham x reader #halloween #halloween fic #halloween drabble #bo burnham imagine

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glowingbadger · 3 years

Note

The Sylvain and Dimitri arranged marriage stuff made me think of a claude version of it. Maybe an AU where Claude never came to fodlan and reader has to marry the prince/king of Almyra to improve countries relationships. Anyway seriously love your stuff thank you so much for the content!!

Oh hoo Anon, this is a wonderful take on the concept. Let's see what I can whip up for us~

((side note I feel like we never learn whether Almyra speaks a different language from Fodlan?? But being multi-lingual is sexy so idgaf))

((And also I used Bengali for Almyran because I have Bengali family and the language is so beautiful even though the english alphabet phonetic spellings are weird af))

Claude x Reader - Arranged Marriage

NSFW 18+ (like only towards the end tho idk)

Overall, you do what you can to stay out of the way. You'd been sent to Almyra as a symbol- a token, more than anything else. Now that you were in King Khalid's possession, very few throughout the castle paid you any particular mind. You were provided for, of course. Anything you cared to ask for was given. But you didn't speak a word of the Almyran language, and those who bothered to use what they knew of Fodlan's to communicate with you seemed to view you as a pet to be kept safe and healthy, and little else.

By week's end, there was to be a lavish banquet in honor of your union with the King- though of course, your input on the proceedings is entirely unwanted. In some ways, Almyra is quite similar to Fodlan. Court life is much the same. As you wander through the royal gardens, wondering at a range of colorful and exotic flowers you'd never heard of, let alone seen, a voice speaks smoothly behind you.

"Did you know you can actually eat the petals of this particular flower? They're very sweet."

You whirl around and nearly bump into King Khalid. You're about to stammer out an apology, but he reaches out and plucks a single white petal and holds it before your lips.

"Go on, I think you'll like it."

Whatever possesses you to eat a flower petal from this man's hand is something you'd rather leave unexamined for the time being- but he is right about the flavor. It's sweet, but not overly so, and quite pleasant.

"Hm! Yeah, it's nice," you say, then glance up at him as another thought occurs to you that you'd considered once or twice before, "You speak the language of Fodlan very well, my Lord."

"I'm flattered," he says with a disarmingly handsome smile, "and please, just Khalid. I don't think I could bear to have my own wife stand on such formality with me."

He says it so naturally, as if you'd been planning this union for years. Though, once again, he's right. This is only perhaps the dozenth time you've exchanged words, but you are wed, and you ought to get used to addressing him as your husband.

"Khalid..." you say tentatively, "Did- did you need something from me? I hope I wasn't too much trouble to find."

"Not when you find such pleasant places to hide," he replies, still wearing that easy smile, "but to be honest, I was actually hoping you'd accompany me for the day. I can finally afford to take a bit of time away from the castle, and I think you and I both would appreciate some space to breathe. What do you say?"

Correct once again. You nod, and take the arm he offers you. As he leads you out from the gardens, he points out a few more plants native to your new homeland. They're incredibly varied, each more strange and vibrant than the last. All the while, he's somehow made you feel as though you're chatting with an old friend. You leave the gardens and wander towards the area you vaguely recall to be designated for horse stables and wyvern stalls.

From there, a few things happen in sequence. Khalid asks if you're afraid of flying. He asks if you trust him to hold on to you. He helps you up onto the saddle that seems impossibly high up on its own right, and then, you're propelled into the air with a force your body has never felt before. You tense and shrink back against his chest, clinging to whatever part of the saddle you can find purchase on for dear life. Up here, it's difficult to pick up, but you feel your husband laugh behind you, then his strong arm wrap around your waist.

"Relax, I won't let anything happen to you," he says against your ear, his voice sure and steady, "I've got you."

And it takes a few miles of flying and a lot of Khalid distracting you by pointing out different buildings and shops along the streets below, but eventually, you do manage to relax- at least a little.

The castle town is positively buzzing with activity. Even from your distance in the sky above, you can see clusters of people moving around each other like fish up stream, and even hear the faint echoes of a merchant advertising goods.

"It doesn't seem at all like the Almyra we're taught about in Fodlan."

"Oh, it is," Khalid assures you with a bemused chuckle, "But it's also much more. I imagine it's the same for your people. There's a lot we can learn from one another, I think."

By the time the sun is high in the sky, you've passed the most densely settled part of town and are gliding over farmland and the occasional pocket of forest and rivers that split and cross through the earth like veins. Though, the warmer climate of Almyra will still take some getting used to, and it seems your husband considers this.

"Let's land for a bit and find some shade,"

You nod, and he directs his wyvern to begin a slow descent.

The King had thought of everything for this little day-trip, it seemed. Having evidently packed everything you'd need in the saddlebags on his steed, you now recline beside him on a plush blanket in a clearing amidst the trees. A small brook bubbles down from stone to stone in small waterfalls beside you, and the air feels positively alive with birdsong and rustling leaves, all foreign to you and all part of your new home. And so is he, you think as you glance over at the handsome figure of your husband beside you.

You'd been sitting in a comfortable quiet, munching on a couple of very dense pastries which Khalid had told you incorporated an extract of the flower you'd sampled earlier. He gives a satisfied sigh as he finishes his first and lies back on the blanket, taking in and savoring a deep breath. As you finish the last bites of your own treat, you reflect on the day thus far. You'd learned much about the locals and their daily lives by observation and Khalid's description in such a short time, and he'd even taught you a hand full of basic words and phrases in Almyran.

"Uhm, Khalid?"

He opens one eye and gives you a sideways glance.

"It was... dhonnobad, right? Thank you?"

His smile his open and warm, his eyes practically shimmering in the reflected sunlight from the nearby brook.

"Well, we'll have to work on your pronunciation, but I'm impressed you remembered," he beckons you down onto the blanket beside him, and you follow, lying on your side as he turns towards you. You're closer than you'd anticipated, even given the limited realestate of the blanket, and you internally scold yourself for being shy about something so silly- like some naive adolescent.

"Let's try a couple more words, since you've been such a diligent student."

"Okay," you say with a smile, "try me, I'll do my best."

"Hmm..." he looks around your private clearing, then gestures towards the brook and says, "Jala"

"Jala," you repeat slowly. He nods,

"Right- that's 'water'. And, uhm..." he points toward a patch of wildflowers at the edge of the brook, "Phula. That's 'flower'."

Again, you repeat as best you can, and though you know your pronunciation must be off, he's encouraging nonetheless. Then, he leans in towards you, and brings his free hand to your cheek, his fingertips brushing your skin lightly.

"Now try sundara."

"... Sundara?" you make an attempt, and you're sure you got something about that 's' sound mixed up, but Khalid just gives you a slanted smile. He doesn't clarify at first, so you ask, "What does that one mean?"

His fingers slowly weave back into your hair, and his voice is low and soothing as he replies,

"That means 'beautiful'."

Your face warms immediately, but you hardly have a moment to feel bashful about it before he presses his lips to yours, kissing you slow and deep. His movements are effortlessly sensual, pulling you towards him and sending your pulse pounding through your veins. You part your lips to him almost instinctively, and the way he uses his tongue is sparing, but oh-so effective. When he finally pulls away, your head is spinning and it's all you can do to meet his gaze.

"So... that's how they kiss in Almyra." you say, barely above a whisper. Khalid smirks and turns you onto your back, sliding an arm around your waist.

"Oh, no- there's no tradition in this, only skill."

Goddess- if they'd warned you of the King's supernatural charms, you wouldn't have believed them. But now his lips are on yours once again, and he's holding your body to his, and you can't think of anything else. Your arms drape across his shoulders, and faster than you can track, your bodies have met in a tangled, impassioned embrace. It was hard to imagine that mere kissing could feel so erotic, but something about his pace, about how his lips and hands move in tandem, about how thorough he is in exploring you, makes you feel like it would be only natural to give yourself over to him completely.

His kiss travels along your jawline up to the shell of your ear, where he nips briefly, then murmurs,

"I was hoping to apologize for how little time we've had to get to know each other before today," you bite at your bottom lip as his hand slides down to the curve of your hip, "if that would be pleasing to you, my dearest wife."

"Ye- yes..." you sigh into the open air as his lips reach your neck. The single word is all either of you need. He never stops pressing lavish kisses to your lips and neck as he pulls your clothing out of his way. By the time he's satisfied, your clothes are draped off your arms and pooling around you on the blanket- and he doesn't seem to care to remove them entirely. He has a goal in mind.

Slowly, painstakingly, he makes his way down your body. You feel him everywhere- hands tracing and memorizing your frame, breath hot across your skin as his lips spoil you with adoring kisses. Soon enough, he's kissed his way to your lower stomach, and he urges your thighs apart beneath him. You suppress the instinctive wave of embarrassment at being exposed to him for the first time- he is your husband and your King, afterall- but then, his head dips down towards your plump lower lips, and your mind goes white.

"Khalid-!" you gasp out as his tongue trails coyly up the crease of your folds. He hums contentedly, and places a disarmingly chaste kiss to the soft skin. Then, his thumbs gently spread you open for him, and your entire body burns while he takes a moment to merely admire you- your pretty little hole already wet, your clit already hard and flushed dark. When his head lowers once more, his green eyes meet yours steadily, as though to promise without words to be good to you.

And in a moment, his mouth begins to gently tease your clit, and your head tilts back on the blanket. Your hips jerk just a bit with each pass of his tongue across the sensitive bundle, and occasionally you can't hold in a gasp or whimper of pleasure. This only encourages him, of course. The more you moan and sigh, the more dedicated he becomes to your body. He presses himself more firmly to you, his lips surrounding your clit and the surrounding tender flesh, and he suckles on you, licks you, kisses you. You don't know when it happened, but your hands are at the back of his head, fists tangled in thick brown hair as he diligently works.

The unbearable tension is winding tight and anxious in your lower body- you know he'll drive you to climax before long, and the mere thought feels like falling in love. And then Khalid moves lower, and his tongue dips inside of your entrance. You gasp and unwittingly tug on his hair- but he certainly doesn't seem to mind. With a lustful groan, he presses more firmly to you, truly buried against your body as his dexterous tongue curls upward, stroking the vulnerable spot behind the nerves of your clit.

"Khalid!" this time it's nearly a scream, and you're grateful that your voice is lost in the surrounding foliage. Your thighs begin to shake, and your hands release him to instead clutch the blanket behind you. And at last, with a whimper in a voice you hardly recognize, your lower body floods with soaked warmth as your orgasm sweeps through you. Panting, twitching, you moan out for your husband over and over, until finally, the wave begins to subside, and Khalid pulls away to position himself above you on all fours.

"That's a nice expression..." he says with a grin, directing you to look at him with a hand at your chin, "I hope I'll get to see it often."

When your eyes finally refocus, you look up at him somewhat apologetically,

"I should... attend to you."

He laughs and kisses your forehead,

"There will be time for that tonight, don't you think? Once we're a bit more... put together," he says with a glance at your bare form, "we should head back to our ride. I'll bring you back to the castle, and we'll get the cooks to prepare something very 'Almyran' for you."

You nod- it probably wouldn't do for the first time with your Lord Husband to be mid-day in the woods. Though he'd certainly failed to make it seem unappealing.

"And then," he goes on, bringing a finger to trace the curve of your bottom lip, "Well, maybe we'll excuse ourselves to our bedchamber a bit early this evening, and we can continue this little... cultural exchange."

#why do these always end up so long urg #claude von reigen #fe3h #claude x reader #fire emblem smut #fire emblem x reader #fire emblem #feh #fire emblem three houses #fire emblem imagines #x reader #claude fire emblem #not sfw writing

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agustdakasuga · 3 years

Text

Between the Bloodshed | Chapter 13

Genre: Mafia!AU, Angst, Romance, Fluff

Pairing: OT7 x Reader

Characters: Doctor!Reader, Gangster!Namjoon, Gangster!Seokjin, Gangster!Yoongi, Gangster!Hoseok, Gangster!Jimin, Gangster!Taehyung, Gangster!Jungkook

Summary: Being a freelance doctor, this was just supposed to be any other job, helping a private client and taking care of him through his recovery. But you were not expecting to get caught in something so much darker that would change your life entirely.

It’s finally time to head to Florida. Your aim is to relax by the beach, forget whatever happened in Korea and reset your brain. The boys also have some important things to tell you.

Warning: This story is fictional and has nothing to do with real life events or the actual members of BTS. It may contain depictions of violence, blood shed/ gore and mentions of abuse. Please read at your own discretion.

“Yes, omma. I’ll be home in time for oppa’s arrival.” You sighed, standing by your window as you spoke to your mother. You were leaving for Florida tonight but she seemed more worried that you wouldn’t be around when your brother and heavily pregnant sister in law arrived.

“I’m not a gynaecologist. The only thing I’ll do is look after Jisung.” Your nephew was the only one you could tolerate.

“Bye, omma.” You cut her off, hanging up. You planned to turn off your phone while you travelled as well. Someone cleared their throat from behind you and you jumped slightly, turning around.

“Busy?” Namjoon asked.

“Yes- Wait, I mean, no. What’s up?” You forced a smile, tucking your phone into the pocket of your lab coat.

“You said you have a list of medical supplies that you wanted to order?” He reminded. You facepalmed, forgetting to print the list out to pass to Namjoon last night.

“Hang on a sec, I’ll print it out.” You sat at your desk, going on your computer. Namjoon just patiently sat opposite you. You retrieved your document that you typed out a few days ago and clicked on the print button. The button whirled to life, starting to feed the document out. You sighed, rubbing your temples as you waited for it.

“Family stress?” Namjoon chuckled.

“You already know... Her star child is coming home and her second grandchild is about to be born soon. She’s ecstatic.” You scoff.

“I hope you enjoy this break then. Before you have to deal with all the bullsh*t when we get back.” Namjoon smiled, his dimple popping through. He was so genuine, you felt yourself melt.

“Thanks, Joon. I think we all need a break.” You handed him the paper.

“Right. When do you need these?” He waved the paper in the air. You shrugged, a sign that it wasn’t important.

“Alright. Make sure you packed everything.” Namjoon ruffled your hair before leaving. You turned around in your chair, putting your feet on top of the desk, something your mother always scolded you for.

“(y/n)!” Your door burst open, hitting the adjacent door with a loud sound. You jumped to your feet immediately.

“What-” You yelped when Jimin grabbed your waist, clearly using you as his human shield. You blinked in confusion, until Taehyung and Hoseok ran in with water guns in your hands, cackling. Your eyes widened as the nozzles were somehow pointing at you now.

“YAH! I DARE YOU!” You threatened.

“Save me!” Jimin said between giggles. You slapped his hands away from your hips, making him whimper.

“What are you guys doing?” Jungkook stopped by the door, blinking. At the maknae’s presence, Hoseok and Taehyung turned to face their guns at him. Jungkook jumped with a yelp, ducking behind the wall.

“Let’s go.” Jimin whispered, sliding open the glass door that led to the garden from your office.

“What about Jung-”

“Forget him. We need to save ourselves.” Jimin grabbed your hand, seeing the two still aiming at Jungkook. With a tug, he pulled you out with him, escaping Taehyung and Hoseok. From behind you, you heard a loud scream that most probably came from Hoseok. All you could say was, that’s what you get for going against Jungkook.

“Park Jimin!” You heard Taehyung screech.

“Run!” Jimin abandoned you, running away in a different direction. Your eyes widened, obviously you threatening Taehyung wasn’t going to work.

“YOONGLES!” Your eyes caught sight of the pale man, walking back into the house, a book tucked under his arm. Yoongi turned around just to see you running towards him.

“HELP!” You ducked behind him.

“What?!” He hissed, dropping the book and taking his gun out from his holster, aiming at whoever was after you. When Taehyung ran over, he froze.

“H-Hey hyung, we’re just playing. No need to get all serious.” Taehyung stepped back when he saw the pistol in Yoongi’s hand. Yoongi sighed, lowering his gun to put it back into the holster. He turned around, looking at you.

“In my opinion, I was doing my work when they came and threatened me. I was in real danger.” You shrugged.

“Yah, leave her alone. She’s working.” Yoongi scolded Taehyung. Taehyung pouted, lowering his water gun. No way would any of them dare to shoot Yoongi, unless they had a death sentence. He ran off to chase Jimin instead. Yoongi shook his head, picking his book up from the ground.

“Thanks, Yoonie!” You saluted with a grin.

“As thank you, I’m going to eat your last slice of cheesecake in the fridge.” He said, walking back into the house. Your jaw dropped slightly.

“B-But... That’s mine! You can’t take it! Min Yoongi! Don’t you dare touch my cheesecake!” You chased after him. Yoongi just smiled to himself, shaking his head slightly.

The rest of the day was quiet until it was time to leave. You were waiting in the living room, playing with Kookie.

“I wish you could come with us, Kookie.” You rubbed his ears. Behind you, the boys were all scrambling for last minute items that they forgot to pack.

“What are we going to do with them, huh?” You held Kookie up, adjusting him in your lap. You yawned, waiting for the chaos to be over. There was Namjoon tripping over Jungkook’s luggage, Yoongi and Jungkook squabbling over underwear, Jin just packing everything but the kitchen sink with Taehyung stopping him and Hoseok scolding Jimin for making a mess.

“Uh, young masters... The cars are ready when you’re ready to leave.” The butler spoke.

“I’m ready to leave.” You stood up. The maids brought your bags out to the awaiting cars. You kissed Kookie goodbye before handing him to the butler who would be caring for him in your absence.

“Take care of him.” You smiled.

“I will, agashi. Don’t worry.” He bowed his head. You nodded and headed out to the vans. The driver opened the door for you to enter.

“Think you could leave without us?” Hoseok opened the door with a grin, entering to seat behind you.

“You guys take way too long.” You scoffed, looking out the window. Namjoon climbs into the other back seat while Yoongi takes the seat beside you in the second row. From your tinted window, you see Taehyung and Jimin climbing into one van while Jungkook and Jin climb into the other.

“I can’t wait to get on the plane to sleep.” Hoseok stretched his arms with a loud yawn. You nodded in agreement, pulling your hoodie up. The vans pulled up to the VIP entrance of Incheon airport.

“Right this way, young masters.” The doors opened for you and suited males grabbed your suitcases for you.

“Stay close.” Jin said, making you grab his arm to avoid straying away from him.

“Let’s check in.” Namjoon rounded everyone up, giving their passports to the lady, along with yours. You all verified your names and the tickets were issued. From the looks of it, you would all be flying first class.

“I can’t afford first class. I’ll sit in coach.” You crossed your arms.

“As if we would let you sit in coach. You may be stubborn doc but you haven’t seen all 7 of us at once.” Jimin challenged. You rolled your eyes, receiving your passport back with your ticket tucked in. When all the luggages were checked in, one of the managers escorted the 8 of you to the private lounge to wait. There were only 5 other people in there, minding their own business.

“I’m hungry!” Jungkook declared, pulling you up with him to head to the buffet table. You sighed but let yourself be dragged away.

“Koo, don’t get indigestion.” You told him as you held a plate for him to pile food on. On his dessert plate, you grabbed one of his mini cream puffs, placing it into your mouth.

“Hey! Get your own!” Jungkook pouted.

“Then hold your own plate, Jeon Jungkook.” You glared. After he was done, you placed his plates on his table.

“You didn’t get any for yourself?” Taehyung asked.

“I was merely a plate holder.” You scoffed. Taehyung laughed, following you back out to get some snacks for yourself. You only took some fruits and water, planes making you feel bloated if you ate too much.

“Thanks, Tae.” You said, sitting back down. You ate some from the plate in your lap until Jimin leaned over with his mouth open, wanting a piece.

“Here.” You fed him a halved strawberry. Yoongi was comfortably settled in his seat, enjoying a short nap. Jungkook went for a second round of food, this time bringing Hoseok along with him. Namjoon had his iPad perched on his lap, typing away with a small frown on his face.

“Frowning is going to get you wrinkles, Joon.” You chuckled, reaching across to give him a piece of watermelon. He shot you a grateful smile before closing his iPad to eat what you offered.

“We should head to the gate.” Jin rounded everyone up. Jungkook stuffed whatever food he could into his mouth before walking with you.

“Don’t choke. Chew slowly, you big baby.” You patted his back, urging him to chew slowly.

“Welcome aboard.” The crew greeted you at the door, the flight manager escorted you to the first class cabin. You settled in your comfy seat, realising that Namjoon sat on the other side of the partition.

“Seat buddy.” You grinned, shooting finger guns at him. He chuckled, shaking his head as the flight attendant placed a champagne flute before him.

“Mr Kim, we have made sure that you have the entire first class cabin, as per your request. So please be assured that there is optimum privacy for you and your family to roam when the seat belt sign is off.” The manager told Jin, who nodded his head in approval. The flight attendants handed out pre-flight drinks and the menu.

“You guys can’t be serious. Booking the whole first class cabin?” You rolled your eyes.

“It’s for privacy, doc.” Namjoon said, flipping through his newspaper. Once the safety demo was done by the flight attendants, the plane took off. You had your headphones on, playing music as you read your book.

“Are you just going to read?” Jimin asked. You nodded your head and he pouted, sighing in annoyance.

“I’m gonna sleep too.” You added.

PING!

The seatbelt sign turned off. Yoongi had the flight attendant turn his seat into a bed, his figure curled under the blanket, ready to sleep. Hoseok was watching a show on his iPad while Jin was snacking.

“Yah, don’t disturb him.” You chided Taehyung and Jimin, who were trying to disturb a sleeping Jungkook. He hadn’t even lowered his seat, still in an upright position with his neck tilted down. That was gonna cause some pain when he woke up.

“Let me lower his seat.” You unbuckled your seatbelt, heading over and pressing the button so he would be in a more comfortable position.

“You’re starting to baby him.” Taehyung clicked his tongue.

“I baby Yoongles too, he just pretends to hate it.” You shrugged, adjusting Jungkook’s blanket and fluffing the pillow under his head. Jungkook remained asleep, even when you moved his head.

“Boring.” Jimin took his switch out, challenging Taehyung in a game. You just turned back to your book.

“Never thought I’d see the day. You, the fierce doctor, admitting that you care and baby the boys.” Namjoon chuckled from beside you, neatly folding his newspapers and setting it aside.

“Jungkook’s the youngest and Yoongi can only use one arm. I’m not that heartless, Joon.” You scoffed. Namjoon held his hands up in defence and you rolled your eyes. Taking out your laptop, you began to type out notes that you made from reading your book. You were learning more efficient ways to stabilise fatal injuries such as stabbings or gunshot wounds.

“Take a break, doc. Stop learning how to kill us.” Hoseok joked.

“I don’t need to learn what I already know.” You spoke, not looking up from your screen as you typed.

“Oh doc, you’re just so comical.” Jin chuckled.

“I try my best.” You raised your eyebrows. Soon, the flight attendants came around to give out menus for the inflight meals. You hummed as you flipped through the selection.

“What do you fancy?” Namjoon asked.

“Salad and soup.” You shrugged. Meanwhile, the boys were ordering their steaks and pasta, filling up until they were full and satisfied.

“The appetite you guys have never fail to amuse me.” You snorted. Yoongi, who was picking and tearing his butter roll, nodded in agreement. You didn’t need to eat much, watching the boys eat their hefty portions was enough to make you feel full.

“Did I miss lunch?!” Jungkook exclaimed.

“Right on time. We just finished up.” Taehyung chuckled, wiping his mouth with the napkin. While the flight attendants served desserts, Jungkook ordered his huge main course.

“Can I have some sparkling water?” You ordered after finishing your fruit plate. The flight attendant gave you a weird look but Namjoon cleared his throat, making her jump and scurry off to fulfil your water.

“You know, ordering something without intimidation would be nice to try for once.” You scoffed.

“You deserve to be waited on, doc. Not be given attitude from the likes of people like her.” Namjoon sipped his wine. Yoongi, who had a glass of whiskey, nodded in agreement. You sighed as the flight attendant placed the glass of sparkling water down on your side table. She bowed her head to you, keeping her head down before leaving.

“Young masters, agashi. Welcome.” The entire staff lined up before the huge beach house, bowing as you all stepped out of the vans.

“Get the bags. I hope doc’s room has been prepared like we instructed.” Namjoon ordered and they bowed, rushing to unload all the bags and bring them in. You followed the boys in, carrying your airplane bag with you.

“Agashi, allow me to show you your room.” A maid bowed and you gave a backwards wave to the boys, following her up. Your room had a balcony facing the sea.

“It’s beautiful.” You noted.

“If there is anything, please do not hesitate to let me know. The other members of staff will be up with your belongings shortly.” She bowed.

“Thank you.” You smiled. She looked a little shocked.

“I-It’s no problem, agashi. Have a nice rest.” She bowed again before leaving. Once the door closed, you threw your bag aside, falling back onto the comfy bed. You let out a sigh of bliss, staring at the ceiling. Standing up, you headed to the small balcony attached to your room.

“(y/n)!” Jimin poked his head out from his room window to wave at you. You chuckled, sending a small wave back.

*KNOCK KNOCK*

“Come in.” You turned around to see two butlers with your bags.

“Thank you. You can set them over here.” You directed them. After stacking your bags neatly, they bowed and left you alone. You took your time to unpack your things into the cupboards and closet provided.

“(y/n)! Let’s go swimming!” The youngest 3 burst into your room, the door slamming into the adjacent wall loudly.

“Yah, you guys need to learn how to knock.” You scolded.

“Come on!”

“Guys, we just got here. Let me unpack and RELAX!” You shoved all 3 of them out of your room, slamming the door shut and locking it. You sighed, shaking your head at their protests. Humming, you continued to unpack your things at your own pace. After you were done, you looked out the window and saw the boys playing in the water, splashing around.

‘I’m outside your door. - Yoongi’

Your phone buzzed. You frowned in confusion at the sudden text, going to open your room door. Yoongi stood there, in black board shorts and a black linen shirt. The first two buttons were undone, revealing his pale skin.

“Not a fan of the sun, Mr Cullen?” You raised an eyebrow.

“I’m just here to bring you to the beach.” He sighed. You nodded, going into the bathroom to change into some lighter clothes.

“Let’s go!” You hooked arms with him. As usual, Yoongi didn’t pull away from you. You walked out the doors and down the back porch, revealing the big beach area.

“Woah.”

“Don’t worry about the public, this is our private beach.” Jin walked over with a plate of sandwiches.

“I was never worried about the public but thanks.” You picked up a sandwich, going to sit on one of the lawn chairs. Yoongi took the seat beside you, leaning back with a glass of wine in his hand. With a wave of his hand, the butler offered you a glass as well, placing it on the tiny table.

“Aren’t you going to swim?” You asked Yoongi.

“Don’t like the water.” He scoffed. Those that were playing in the water ran up towards you and Yoongi, who didn’t even notice. Suddenly, you yelped as you were being hoisted in the air.

“Taehyung!” You squealed, wrapping your arms around his neck. He chuckled, running towards the ocean.

“And I can’t believe you let them rope you into this, Namjoon!” You hissed. The leader just shrugged, crossing his arms as he watched in amusement.

“Kim Taehyung, if you drop me into this water, I’ll make sure you regret it.” You threatened. Jungkook and Jimin waved their hands, encouraging their brother to just dunk you.

“You know I stay true to my words!” You screamed as a final resort.

“I’ll save you!” Hoseok ran over with a super soaker water gun. Taehyung jumped in shock, letting go of you.

“Tae-” You fell into the water. You stood up, entire being wet. Even with the water to your hips, your glare was scary enough to send the boys running to shore. You ran after them while they scattered away. But of course, them being mafiosos, they were able to escape quickly. You couldn’t chase after them so you went for the next best thing.

“Yoongles!” You laid over Yoongi.

“Yah!” Yoongi cringed as you wet his clothes with your own damp ones. You grinned at him.

“This is gonna be a fun vacation, isn’t it Yoonie?” You said sweetly, making Yoongi groaned and roll his eyes.

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stillebesat · 3 years

Text

An Unconventional Defeat

Sanders Sides: Patton, Virgil Blurb: Patton knew that heroes started out young, far younger than villains ever did. But this young? Inspiration: From the Anon prompt: “I can take care of myself just fine.” with Virgil. Fic Type: Superhero!AU, Villain!Patton, Hero!Virgil Overall Fic Warnings: Near Death Experiences, Death Talk, Injuries, Hospitals Taglist in Reblogs:

He’s fourteen.

Patton stared down at the prone form of his nemesis, Onyx, in the darkened hospital room, mind racing.

He knew that heroes started out young, far younger than villains ever did. But this young?

Sure, that no good empathy that the heart twinged with seemed to chime all stronger for the children. For those naive fools who were still optimistic about life and wanted to believe that good would always win out in the end. That being good was the best way to live your life. That you could change the world for the better.

Patton had been a fool like that. Once.

He’d wanted to be a teacher. Once. Be an example to the rising generation. Once.

And then he’d had his eyes forcibly opened in college to just how cruel and heartless the world actually was. Goodness only got trampled. Squashed. Taken advantage of. Goodness only got used until it wasn’t useful anymore and then got dumped like so much trash. If one wanted to change the world permanently. One couldn’t do so by being good.

Kids though?

The poor fools didn’t realize that yet. That being good wasn’t well...good. For anyone. Hero work? Pointless. Especially with how active Patton was in the city.

Hero work didn’t put food on the table. Hero work didn’t pay the bills. It was a thankless never ending job.

A job that landed a fourteen year old in the hospital with head trauma, a broken leg, arm, fractured ribs, and multiple puncture wounds in the shoulders and abdomen that had only avoided killing the kid by sheer dumb luck.

A fourteen year old that Patton had been fighting for a good three years now, not that he’d known that until nine hours ago.

Onyx had always snarked at him in a deep distorted voice, had always been covered by an ever shifting melee of shadows that never showed just who was manipulating the darkness around him.

He growled under his breath, rubbing the back of his neck. Eleven. The kid had been freaking eleven when he’d first shown up to stop Patton from razing the police department to the ground.

No wonder Onyx had been so ferocious in defending the place. He’d still been of an age to see the cops as fellow heroes. The good guys. He hadn’t yet discovered their darker side. Just how much like school ground bullies most of them could be to the weak.

Patton clenched his hands, conscious of the frost coating his fingertips, of the room getting noticeably colder. “You’re an idiot.” He told the sleeping hero in a low voice, tensing as the shadows sluggishly stirred at the sound of his voice. “Ruining everything.”

He’d been trying to take down Onyx for ages. Perfecting the best way to use his ice bolts to freeze those shadows of his once and for all. It had been the best moment of his life seeing the hulking figure finally stagger when his ice had successfully pierced through the darkness and not fly out the other end. To know that they had stuck. To see those dark wisps vanish like so much smoke as the hero plummeted from the sky. To have a crater form from the impact that left a dust cloud floating in the air with no hint whatsoever of his shadows preparing to strike back.

It had been his greatest moment of triumph. The final defeat of his main nemesis.

An icy javelin had already formed in his hands, aimed for Onyx’s heart before Patton’s feet had even hit the ground.

But instead of the square jawed overly muscled hero he’d expected to finally see underneath that murky shadow disguise...he’d found a freaking child laying there, bleeding, broken, and unconscious.

One Virgil Hawkins. Fourteen years old. Orphan. Parents dead since he was nine. Grandmother dead since he was eleven though apparently no one else had realized that little tidbit yet besides Patton because he’d actually tried to find the woman last night after he’d rushed the boy to the hospital for emergency surgery only to discover the little urn with her name on it on the mantle of the fireplace in her home.

It was one thing to kill a Hero. And Patton...well he’d done in his fair share of heroes over the last decade. But killing a child? His heart might be cold. Frozen even. But as much as he itched to end Onyx the hero permanently...ending Virgil the child was an entirely different matter.

Not that anyone would know. Not that anyone would care if Virgil vanished the same evening Onyx died. He could freeze the kid’s heart here and now and not even the staff supposedly watching the boy would think much of it, injured as he was.

Patton frowned, breath misting in front of him as he held out an ice coated hand over the child, an icicle easily forming in his fist.

It would be so easy.

Who would care about the disappearance of a single boy? One who was practically a ghost in his civilian life. Certainly not the news. Certainly not the cops the kid had risked his life to defend. A kid only surviving as it were because he’d been clever enough to keep his grandma’s social security checks coming to the house as a source of income.

No one would notice if he just...vanished. Not even the school the kid attended would. Not when they couldn’t even tell him if he’d shown up yesterday for class.

No concerned teacher. No concerned counselor. No friends to worry about him suddenly vanishing. Not even the staff here in the hospital cared enough to keep more than a cursory eye on their John Doe as the police attempted to track down the boy’s nonexistent family.

Virgil had no one.

Patton let the icicle dissolve back into his skin, his hand lightly resting on the boy’s warm forehead, fingers lightly brushing the stitches there.

No one to pay the hospital bills. No one to look after him once he was released. No one to ensure that he had food, clothes and shelter. No one to stop him from being a fu-freaking idiot and going out to attack a villain old enough to be his Father.

Patton shuddered, pulling his hand back. Crofters forbid that. Teenagers were the worst. Onyx only proved that tenfold with how easily he’d wound up Patton in their fights. To have one living in his own home? With their constant mood swings, inability to do chores, and dependence on social media? Ha. No.

A groan from the bed drew him from his thoughts right as the shadows around the bed surged at him, latching onto his arm and jerking him forward with a startled yelp.

“Cold.” A hoarse voice whispered as pale fingers shakily rose from under the blanket, twisting to catch Patton’s wrist as the shadows pulled him within reach. Onyx’s eyelids fluttered as he placed Patton’s hand on his forehead. “Cold.”

Was he insane?! Patton growled, the temperature in the room dropping another ten degrees as he struggled against Onyx’s shadow grip. “Let. Go!”

The hero had the gall to smirk, dark eyes unfocused as he opened them fully, the shadows pulsing around them. “No way, Icy.” He whispered. “You cold. Feels good. You stay.”

WHAT?! He wasn’t an icepack! “I’ll freeze your burning head off! LET GO, you idiot!” He allowed a thin layer of ice to form under his hand to prove his point. It was bad enough that Onyx could match him throw for throw on a good day, it was worse knowing that a fu--freaking half-drugged teenager could still hold him with minimal effort.

Virgil closed his eyes, stupid smile growing wider. “Rubber. Glue. Back to you.”

Patton blinked. “Huh?” What was that supposed to mean?! This was why he hated teenagers. They didn’t make a lick of sense whenever they spoke.

“You’re the idiot here.” Virgil dropped his hand, the shadows releasing their grip. “Coming in uniform? To a hospital? To see me? For shame.”

Patton scoffed, taking a step back. He wasn’t some first year amateur to walk in the front door dressed like this. “Like I care if anyone sees me, kid.”

If it weren’t for the fact that he couldn’t afford to let anyone see him actually caring about anyone’s welfare, especially some ‘random’ kid found on the street after the big fight with Onyx, he would have blasted the front doors off their hinges and made a grand entrance instead of manipulating the ice of his clothes to resemble simple civilian attire before sauntering inside, no questions asked. After all, no one ever looked twice at some guy walking around in a black shirt and blue jeans, not even in a hospital.

Though. He flexed his fingers. It wasn’t like it was outside his wheelhouse to freeze people to death if they got in his way.

Onyx frowned, the shadows pulsing as he opened his eyes again, making eye contact. “No...you wouldn’t would you….why are you here--No.” The darkness gathered underneath him, carefully carefully pushing the kid upright in the hospital bed. He hissed, uninjured arm moving to wrap around his stomach. “Why am I here and not dead, Icy?”

Patton lifted his chin, glaring at the hero. “Did you want to be dead?” He asked, hefting a javelin of ice in his hand.

The teenager had the gall to roll his eyes, though Patton didn’t miss how the shadows surged around him in a protective shield. “Missed your chance, buddy. Don’t tell me your frozen heart actually thawed a little during our fight.”

“No.” Patton jabbed at the shadows, not at all surprised when they easily shattered his weapon with a quick twist.

So the kid wasn’t as out of it as his dilated eyes made it seem. Good to know.

“So I’m alive then….why?”

Why did it matter? “You’re fourteen.”

Virgil scoffed, slowly moving the arm that was in a cast so it too rested against his stomach. “So? You’ve killed kids before.”

Patton stiffened, ice flashing from his feet to cover the floor like a mini ice rink. Did the boy honestly not care about his own life?! “You shouldn’t have been fighting me in the first place, Onyx! You’re a kid. A Fu-FREAKING KID. Your biggest worry should be passing some stupid Math test! Making friends in school. Not squaring up against the worst villain the city has ever seen!” A villain that always, always killed his nemeses no matter what.

Virgil huffed, spreading his arms, the shadows twisting around them. “Last time I checked, this kid could wipe your ass into the dirt without breaking a sweat. I can take care of myself just fine, thank you very much.”

“But you shouldn’t HAVE to.” This wasn’t some stupid dystopian novel. No normal eleven year old should have such a stupidly high Chosen One complex.

“And who’s fault is it that I have to, Icemas?” Virgil’s eyes practically glittered like obsidian shards as the shadows lifted him off the bed, turning him to face Patton properly, the machines squeaking in protest as the various tubes connecting them to the hero shifted out of alignment. “No one else was stepping up. No one else would face you.”

“That’s the point!” Patton hissed, shooting a ray of ice to the door, crystals covering the window there and locking it in place so no one else would be able to investigate the alarms going off, before stepping forward to jab a finger at the boy’s chest, though he was careful to not actually touch the wounds there or send any ice bolts at him. “I’m showing everyone that being a hero is a useless archaic practice! No one should have to risk their life day in and day out for complete strangers who will never appreciate your sacrifice! If you had died tonight, Virgil, who would have cared?! The media? Ha.” He shook his head, gesturing to the blank TV screen in the corner as the shadows pulled back to quiver behind the young hero. “They’d mourn you for maybe a week tops before moving onto the next sensational story, the next stupid hero trying to make a difference. Maybe, maybe they will name some shiny new building after you, to remember you by, but then what? NOTHING. You’d be DEAD before you could ever drive and it would have all been for naught!”

Virgil frowned, shadows lowering him so he was sitting on the bed. “...You know my name?”

Patton stiffened. That’s what the kid was worried about? Him figuring out his civilian identity instead of nearly dying?! That was so messed up. “Someone had to try and track down your family, kid. The idiots here weren’t gonna do it.”

The hero had the gall to grin, though Patton didn’t miss how his fingers clenched the sheets. “Aww, well isn’t that sweet of you, Popsicle. How did that go?” He tilted his head to the iced over door where distant voices could be heard as the handle rattled. “Good old mom and dad waiting outside to see me? To check in on how their ickle Virgikins is doing?”

Teenagers. He hated them. “You know they aren’t. You have no one.”

Something flickered in the boy’s eyes. “Oh! Then let me guess.” He rested his chin on his uninjured hand. “You let the staff know I’m on my own? Do I get the oh so fun opportunity to experience our stellar A+ foster care system now?”

Patton rolled his eyes, shooting another bolt of ice at the door for good measure. “Please. They still think you’re a John Doe.” The lazy bums were waiting for him to wake up first. Hoping that Virgil would tell them who he was before trying to track down his identity or family.

“Excellent.” Virgil gave the door an appraising look. “Think they’ll believe amnesia?”

Patton blinked. “....Do you not feel the stitches holding your head together?” Or the baseball sized lump on the back of his skull from hitting the pavement?

The hero shrugged. “Honestly?” The shadows pulsed around him. “It’s all kinda fuzzy agony currently. Can’t differentiate what parts of me hurt and what doesn’t.”

How was this kid even awake?! Patton stepped forward, pushing the boy back down flat on the bed. “Then REST before you hurt yourself further, idiot.”

“Aw, love you too, Popsicles.”

“DON’T CALL ME THAT.” He would never be a fu-freaking Father to anyone.

“Or what?” Virgil relaxed against the pillows, even as his hand twisted to catch Patton’s wrist again. “You’ll kill me?”

If he wanted to do that the kid would be dead already. Patton jerked free, another ice spear forming in his hand, pointed to the boy’s throat. “No.”

“Aw. You scared to?”

“NO. I’m not killing a KID. Our fights are done with, Virgil. No more Onyx. He’s DEAD.”

The boy scoffed, pushing the spear to the side. “Last I checked, Icy,” The shadows surged over him in a swirling mass until the familiar shadowy form of Onyx stared back from the bed. “We’re the same person.” His voice echoed. “And I’m still alive and kicking.”

Ooooohoooho. Patton could feel his eye twitching as ice crept up the walls and window. If it were just Onyx he’d take great pleasure in killing the hero here and now. He itched to do so. But he couldn’t. Not with knowing that Virgil the child hid underneath the darkness. “I won’t fight you, kid.”

The shadows pulled back, revealing Virgil looking far paler than before, his face glittering with sweat. “Coward.”

“Idiot.” The kid needed to see a shrink. No normal fourteen year old would be this stubborn about wanting to constantly go up against him and face death by his hand!

“I know you are but what am I?”

The window shattered, sending frost covered glass glittering to the floor. “Hopefully grounded by the fool that ends up taking you in.” He got out through gritted teeth, ice particles shimmering in the air, ready to defend as the shadows around Onyx sprung up like a series of blackened tentacles writhing behind him.

He pitied whoever ended up with this troubled teen in their home…though...maybe he could arrange for the kid to be shipped across the country to live far far away from here. Getting out of this place could set him straight. Snap him out of this stupid hero phase he was in.

Virgil threw his head back, laughter ringing throughout the room as banging sounded from the door, the ice blockade cracking under the strain.

Judging by the way the ice was shearing off, someone with heat abilities had finally shown up.

Virgil shook his head, still grinning, though his eyes held no laughter as the shadow tentacles sharpened into jagged points, all aimed at Patton’s chest. “Oh that’s rich. Me, grounded? Like a normy would be able to stop me from coming after you the next time you decide to wreck the city.” He pushed himself up onto one elbow, jabbing his cast at Patton, the shadows quivering behind him like a pack of hunting dogs waiting to be unleashed as the temperature in the room dropped even further. “Face it, Popsicle. If you’re not gonna kill me then you’re stuck with me being your nemesis. If you want me to stop being the hero and keep me alive, then you have to stop being the villain. And we both know you’re not gonna do that. Your precious plan is too important to just give it up for my sake.”

And that was the crux of the matter wasn’t it? Patton snarled, raising his hands, the ice particles in the air morphing into a slew of arrows all directed towards the boy. He didn’t want to kill Virgil. But he couldn’t give up his plan. Give up being the villain. Not after a decade of fighting to get all those idealistic fools to see what a farce being a hero was. He was so close to winning. So close. “Fine.” He surged forward, grabbing the boy by the throat, ice arrows darting about to block the shadow tentacles of the kid’s from interfering. “You value my plan more than your pathetic life? Then you should--”

BANG.

The door behind them shattered, sending a heat wave full of shrapnel blasting into the room.

IDIOTS.

Patton whirled, flinging a wall of ice towards the figures in the doorway in an attempt to block the worst of the heat from outright killing Virgil then and there. IDIOTS! Did they not care at all that an already injured kid was in the ro---

A half melted silver door knob burst through the resulting steam before Patton could react to it, clocking him between the eyes with enough force to knock him backwards, his world vanishing into cold, silent darkness as the hospital floor rushed up to meet him.

#An Unconventional Defeat #stillebesat #Sanders Sides #Patton Sanders #Virgil Sanders #Morality #Anxiety #Superhero!AU #Villain!Patton #Hero!Virgil #Near Death Experiences tw #Death Talk tw #Injuries tw #Hospital tw

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thedeathdeelers · 3 years

Text

just a little bit of magic (you know the rest by heart) ✨

my take on a Juke HP AU for the lovely Taryn @pink-flame on her birthday 🥰🎂 may you have an amazing day/week/month/year, you wonderful human being.

hope you like it!

----

Luke eagerly pulls Julie along as they walk down several corridors, up moving staircases and through low hanging archways. The deeper they walked into the castle, the quieter it got.

He had been jittery all morning, too impatient to pay attention in any of his classes as he counted down the hours and minutes until he was free to find Julie and drag her to his surprise. He’d lost his house countless of house points, his leg bouncing and his mind wandering whenever any of his professors called on him in class.

Alex had tried to help a few times whispering the right answers to him, but unfortunately nothing could help Luke when he got in one of these moods. He was just too excited.

Julie trips on her feet behind him, a reminder that her legs were shorter than his. He shakes his head, bringing himself back to the present as he focuses on the girl next to him. Luke slows down his pace, squeezing Julie’s hand once in apology as he gives her a few seconds to regain her balance.

The last thing he wanted to do was mess this up by having her trip and fall right before his big reveal.

Alex had already nearly blown the entire thing when they had passed him on the fifth floor coming out of the prefects’ bathrooms, forcing Luke to very loudly and purposefully talk over him to stop Julie from hearing anything. When he had realised his mistake, Alex had quickly gone quiet, his features morphing into a sheepish expression as he waved at them, walking away and back towards the Hufflepuff common room.

“Luuuuuke, where are you taking me?" His lips twitch at her whine, finding it to be very endearing. "It’s nearly past curfew and as Prefect I really can’t afford to be caught sneaking around by Harrison again.” He sees her look down at her outfit from the corner of his eye, a look of frustrated confusion taking over her face. "Also why did you tell me to change into my normal clothes under my robe?"

Luke snorts at her words, hopping onto the stairs leading them towards the seventh floor, Julie quickly following suit as the staircase starts moving.

“First of all, Harrison absolutely loves you — she'd probably thank you for being you and then very politely ask you to head back to your tower, and then turn right around and give me 3 months’ worth of detention in the same breath.” He turns his head towards her, throwing her his signature grin. “You’ll be fine. And second of all, you ask too many questions. We’re nearly there -- be patient Young Padawan."

"Young-" She shakes her head, cutting herself off, the muggle reference clicking. Luke grimaces at his choice of words, thinking might be spending a little too much time around Reggie lately. "And where is there, exactly?"

Luke tries very hard not to take the stairs two steps at a time.

"Nuh-uh, I already told you - it's a surprise."

He smiles at the disgruntled noise she makes, knowing just how impatient Julie can be. He sneaks a look at her face from over his shoulder, nearly tripping over the stone steps when he sees a little pout on her lips.

At his fumble, a smirk replaces the pout, her voice coming out cockier than usual. "You good there, Patterson?"

Luke whips his head back around, his eyes flying to his feet and staying fixed on the steps in front of him.

"Yeah," he clears his throat before continuing, "yeah, I'm fine. We're uh- we're nearly there."

"It's what you keep telling me," is her teasing, sing-song reply, her mood apparently shifting at his fumble.

Luke keeps his eyes forward, hoping Julie can't see his reddened cheeks as they reach the seventh floor landing. He stops for a second to let her catch her breath before pulling her along with him again, taking the first left corridor they come across to head towards the Troll tapestry.

He'd been taking this route so many times in the last few weeks, he could probably do this with his eyes closed. He had wanted everything to be perfect, practicing again and again until he was sure he had nailed the process.

Only the best for his Julie Molina.

Their steps echo as they make their way down the seldom used corridor, the flickering lights from the torches casting long shadows on the stone floor ahead of them.

"Merlin, this castle is so creepy sometimes," mutters Julie to his left, shivering slightly as her hand tightens its hold on his.

Luke squeezes back, his eyes zeroing in on the tapestry up ahead. His heart starts to beat faster, the excitement reaching an all-time high, only slightly tainted by the nerves that fought to make their presence known.

Taking a deep breath, Luke slowly lets it out as they reach their destination, stopping and turning to face the large tapestry.

Julie stands next to him, confused as she takes in the scene before her - a group of Trolls in tutus attempting to learn the ballet. He watches her as she follows their movements, zeroing in on Barnabas the Barmy as he attempts to direct the Trolls to his left, while the ones on the right pull out their clubs ready to hit him over the head.

Luke loses focus for a second, too taken by Julie - by her furrowed brows, her scrunched up nose as she leans forward to inspect the design on the tutus, and especially by the way her lips twist before her bottom lip slips between her teeth.

He's only shaken out of his daze, his eyes flying up and away from her lips, when she suddenly turns to him with a quizzical look on her face.

"Is this the Barnabas the Barmy Tapestry? Why are we- wait..." She turns her head back towards the Tapestry, taking in the scene with new eyes. "I remember reading about this in Hogwarts: A History years ago...It was the chapter about the many hidden magical rooms in Hogwarts and..." She trails off as she looks at him, her eyes widening. She lets go of his hand, slowly turning in place to face the wall behind them - the one right across from the Tapestry.

"Wait....Isn't this-"

Luke rushes to cut her off, quickly turning around and stepping up in front of her to block her view of the wall, in a hurry to derail her train of thought.

"Okay! So, if you could stand right," he places his hands on either side of her waist, pulling her forward as he walks backwards, positioning her right in the middle of the corridor. "Here."

His hands don't move once she's in place, his fingers brushing against smooth warmth right where a sliver of skin peaks out between her t-shirt and the top of her jeans. He had somehow slid his hands under her open robes without even realising it.

His eyes fly up to meet hers, already wide and staring. They stand there in the quiet space, both locked in each others' gazes, neither one of them daring to move. Within seconds Luke can already feel the now familiar thrum of electricity that always crackled whenever they were both together. Only this time it felt even more surreal.

If he could, Luke thinks he could stay this way for the rest of the night, of the school year, but he brought her here for a reason, so he loudly clears his throat, effectively breaking some of the tension that had built between them. He lets his hands slip away from her waist as he takes a step back, his fingers still tingling from the contact.

"So just...yeah just stay there for a few seconds, while I..." He trails off as he looks away, turning around to face the bare wall in front of them and trying very hard to refocus on the task at hand.

He closes his eyes, clearing his mind until all he has left is the image of the room he wants to recreate.

Taking a deep breath, he pivots on his right foot and faces the direction they had just come from. He takes a few steps forward then abruptly turns back around and walks back down the corridor, making sure to keep his focus. He stops again once he reaches the edge of the Tapestry, turning back around and repeating the process until he starts hearing the sound of crumbling walls that always preceded the emergence of a large wooden door, seemingly appearing out of nowhere.

Luke opens his eyes to take in the transformation in front of him, only turning to look at Julie when he hears her surprised gasp.

"Luke-" she's cut off by the increasing creaking sound of the door hinges slotting into place, the loud grating out of place on the deserted floor - until suddenly - everything stops. A deafening silence follows, only broken by the crackling of the torches nearby.

Coughing quietly to get her attention, Luke speaks up.

"So...Reggie told us about this room he read about a few weeks ago when we were trying to find a new rehearsal space to use, since, you know, Covington kicked us out of the fifth floor classrooms 'cause he obviously has no taste whatsoever when it comes to real music and loves making everyone miserable, especially Hufflepuffs and-" Luke cuts himself off when he realises he's rambling, rubbing the back of his neck before clearing his throat to continue.

"Yeah well, I asked around to check if this place actually existed and then Willie, you know how Willie likes to listen to us play - although honestly I think he just likes to hang out so he can watch Alex - but anyway, what I'm trying to say is that one of the ghosts from down by the dungeons owed Willie a favour so....ta-da," he finishes lamely, his arms coming up to point towards the door in front of them while wiggling his fingers.

It's quiet for a few seconds, Julie presumably taking it all in.

"You- you found the Room of Requirement?" She asks quietly, sounding almost awed.

"I mean- I had a lot of help from the guys and then Willie and the Bloody-"

"You found it," she cuts him off, her fingers reaching forward as she moves close enough to touch the door.

Luke scratches the back of his head, suddenly feeling shy in her presence.

"Uh, yeah, I guess I did."

He keeps his eyes on her, tracking her movements as she traces the patterns on the door, following the curving decorative loops down the length of the doorframe until her fingers wrap around the protruding metal handle.

"Luke, this is incredible."

The tone of her voice makes his cheeks grow warmer.

"Nah it's nothing," he tries to brush it off, shuffling on his feet, glad that she is too preoccupied with the door to see his continuously reddening cheeks.

She turns to him then, her hand still latching onto the handle.

"It's not nothing! There's a literal betting pool over at Ravenclaw tower to see who can find this place first, and so far no one's done it..." She shakes her head at him, a smile making its way onto her lips. "But you did."

Luke scuffs his shoe against the stone flooring, not sure what to do with himself. He's always been awkward with compliments, especially when they came from Julie.

Apparently Julie eventually takes pity on him, speaking up again.

"So Patterson, what am I going to find behind this door? A record store? That dodgy hot dog place you told me about? I saw you pacing back and forth three times in front of it, so I'm assuming you already have something or somewhere in mind."

She quirks a brow at him, her eyes shining bright with curiosity.

"Yes! That's actually why I brought you here," he chooses to ignore her little digs as he bounces closer to the door, coming to stand right next to her. "So I remember you saying at the start of the year how you've been struggling with music and...y'know...because no matter where you went you just never felt comfortable enough? And then I remembered the studio you always talked about, the one where your mom taught you everything you knew..."

He watches as her expression slowly morphs, her eyes getting wider and her lips parting ever so slightly.

"I asked Flynn to show me if you had any photos of the space and well..." Luke wraps his fingers around the metal chain hanging off his jeans underneath his robe, squeezing tight to keep himself from fidgeting.

Julie continues to stare at him, her expression frozen on her face. It only made him more restless.

Shit, did he take it too far? Was this not what friends did for each other? Sure he had been in love with Julie for years now, but he's been trying really hard to keep it strictly friendly between them, not wanting to ruin anything, especially after having lost her mom.

And Luke likes to think this is definitely something he would have done for either Reggie or Alex.

But maybe her studio back home was something too personal to her? Maybe she wasn't ready?

"Oh Merlin Julie if this is out of line we can just forget this whole thing happened and-"

Suddenly Luke is cut off by a small bundle of limbs and soft curves throwing themselves at him. His arms reach up reflexively, wrapping them around her, his hands coming to rest on the small of her back.

"Thank you," she says, or so he thinks, being the only words he can barely make out, muffled as they are against his t-shirt.

"Of course Julie." He moves his hands up and down her back, a gesture he knows is comforting to her.

The arms wrapped around his neck tighten for a second before she releases him, taking a small step back and wiping at her face with the sleeve of her robe.

He takes in her face, her expression so vulnerable, unsure about what to do next. But then a small smile appears as she nods at his unanswered question. He reciprocates, nodding back with a smile of his own.

He gestures towards the door. "So, want to do the honours?"

He watches as she nods again, taking in a deep breath before turning to face the door once more. With slightly shaking hands, Julie reaches over and wraps her fingers around the handle, twisting it before pushing. The heavy wooden door creaks at the movement, slowly swinging open until they were both standing on the threshold of a brightly lit garage-turned studio space.

Luke only takes a second to check that everything inside is as it should be, before turning back around to look at Julie.

Her eyes widen at the scene that welcomes her, the steps she takes as she crosses over into the space small and tentative. Luke slips in right behind her, taking her hand off the handle before easing the door shut behind them. He keeps her hand in his as she looks around the space, her fingers brushing over everything within her reach - from the throw covering the armchair that greets them on the right, to the trinkets covering the corner shelves on their left. As they gradually move into the studio, the sound of their footsteps alternating from loud to muffled as they cross over the various rugs decorating the space, Julie’s eyes move upwards, her attention momentarily shifting to the ceiling. Luke follows her gaze to see the three hanging chairs he’d debated leaving out, glad to have included now that he sees a wistful smile take place on Julie’s face.

With the late afternoon Californian sunlight streaming in through the windows, the studio almost looks magical, a warm golden glow enveloping the space. Julie’s gaze comes back down as she pulls Luke along with her further into the studio, walking around the baby grand piano, her finger lightly trailing its side, to stand in front of the wall of plants nestled against the glass back wall.

"My mom..." Julie starts, breaking the silence before trailing off as she reaches over to touch the leaves hanging closest to her. "She always said that plants were sacred. She used to tell me and Carlos all these stories about these spirits that lived in each and every single plant on Earth, protecting those who cared for them. Nurturing all those who treated them with love and kindness and respect." Luke takes in the sight of the green foliage, noting how beautiful it looked. "Said tjat our loved ones’ spirits somehow lived in the very roots of these plants.

“Our house has these pots and vases full of flowers and all sorts of plants all over the place - even our garden looks like a jungle!" She lets out a watery laugh, sniffling as she gets on her tiptoes as if on instinct to pull down a green watering pot resting on a shelf above them.

Luke, seeing what Julie wants to do, hurries to pull out his wand from his back-pocket, muttering a quick Aguamenti as he taps the watering pot. Julie shoots him a grateful smile before she starts watering the plants one by one, Luke tucking his wand away into his robe pocket.

“We used to take turns, each of us spending a few minutes or hours watering and pruning every single plant in the house and in here - but my mom was always there anyway, singing to us, to the plants. Keeping us company.” Julie leans forward as she tries to reach the back row. "But when she...when she wasn't around anymore, I- I stopped. I couldn't bring myself to think about her plants or her music or her stories — let alone come in here where everything about this place reminded me of her." Luke gently rubs the back of her hand with his thumb, not wanting to cut her off, but still finding a small way to try and comfort her.

"I guess my dad took care of everything last summer..." Julie trails off as she finishes watering the remaining hanging plants, before placing the watering pot back in its place.

She turns to him, a peaceful smile lighting up her face. "I forgot how soothing it felt to do that. Thank you."

Luke's smile widens at her words, nodding at her in response.

She keeps her eyes locked on his for a few more seconds before averting her gaze, turning back around to face the piano they had walked past earlier.

Julie lets go of his hand as she slowly makes her way towards the instrument, only stopping when she reaches the bench. Luke takes note of her hesitancy to touch the piano, only to then take a deep breath and slip onto the bench, fingers poised over the fall-board.

He slowly walks up behind her, squeezing her shoulder once before moving away.

"Julie, if you need some space or want me to go I can just-"

Her eyes, which had slid shut, pop open at his words as she cuts him off before he can even finish his sentence.

"No! No, this is- Stay. I want you here, really." She looks at him with so much open trust and something else he can't quite place, that Luke doesn’t really know what to say. So instead he just nods at her, pointing at the black couch behind him.

"I'm uh- I'll just go sit there? Give you a few minutes to yourself, yeah?"

At her nod, he takes a step backwards before spinning around on the spot, his shoe squeaking against the wood flooring, jumping over the coffee table and landing on the old weathered couch cushions.

He hears a little giggle behind him, his head whipping up in time to find Julie attempting, and failing, to smother the sound. His pokes his tongue out at her in response even as warmth blooms in his chest at the sound of her laughter.

She shakes her head at him before averting her eyes and focusing the piano before her, slowing reaching out to lift the fall-board.

He can see the anticipation and fear and love and grief and happiness swirling in her eyes, noticed the way her fingers shake as they hover over the keys. His own fingers dig into his knees, forcing himself to stay still, to stay quiet, as he witnesses a moment that truly is monumental for Julie.

He watches her as she takes another deep breath, squaring her shoulders as if ready for battle. She nods to herself once right before her fingers land on the keys, music instantly filling every corner of the studio, every corner of his soul.

Luke has always been sensitive to music - he thinks that's why he's always been good at picking up new instruments so quickly, at finding the right words and melodies and blending them together to create something new and exciting. But the feeling that courses through him as he listens to Julie singing takes him completely by surprise. It's like a physical punching him in the gut, squeezing his heart and taking his breath away all at once. He sits there, stunned, as he listens to Julie inadvertently command his full attention, singing her heart out.

He thinks it must be an original, because he doesn’t recognise it at all.

Her face goes through a rollercoaster of emotions, pain leaking through as she makes her way through the first pre-chorus.

And you use your pain,

‘Cause it makes you you,

Thought I wish I could hold you through it

I know it’s not the same

You got living to do

And I just want you to do it

But then just as she reaches the end, gearing up for what feels like the chorus, Luke sees determination take its place.

So get up, get out, relight that spark,

You know the rest by heart

Julie dives into the chorus, full of energy and hope, another one of her many smiles suddenly changing the tone of the song.

She makes her way through the second verse, pre-chorus and chorus in the same vain, the energy around her building and building, Luke’s heart beat matching it.

The song reaches its crescendo, her voice climbing as it builds on every note it hits, Julie getting to her feet, spreading her arms wide as she gets to the high note. A look of peaceful acceptance crosses her face before she eases the songs to it’s final chorus, settling back down onto the bench, singing and playing softly as the song comes to an end, the last two words ringing in the quiet studio.

Wake up

All Luke can do is stare with his mouth hanging open as Julie lowers her hands onto her lap, her eyes closed, chest heaving. He had always known that Julie was a powerhouse, always known that music coursed through her veins right along her magic, but he had never heard her sing the way she just had. Not with the full force of her voice as so many raw emotions filtered through.

It left him reeling. He needed to catch his breath.

If he wasn't already in love with her, he knows he'd be head over heels for her after what he had just witnessed.

He's pulled out of his daze when Julie moves, her eyes open as she stands up and steps away from the bench, slowly moving towards him.

Luke scrambles to shuffle down the sofa making space for her to sit, only to be surprised when she chooses to sit on his lap, her arms wrapping around his neck as she burrows her face in his neck.

It takes him a few seconds to react, his body frozen and unable to process.

"I know I keep saying this but....thank you," she whispers, voice unstable, her lips sending shivers down his spine as they brush against the skin of his neck.

The movement snaps him out of his stupor, his arms coming up to fully wrap around her, pulling her closer to his chest as he leans back against the couch cushions.

"I told you," he says, resting his chin over her head of curls, "anything for you, Julie."

Her fingers curls into the fabric of his t-shirt, pulling herself closer to him at his words.

They stay that way for a while, Julie’s breathing eventually easing into a calm rhythm.

Luke stays quiet, understanding her need to absorb everything she had just gone through, happy to just hold her in his arms. When she does break the silence, her voice comes out a little more composed.

"I- that was a song my mom wrote for me before she- when she found out..." Her whisper trails off into silence, the pain in her voice squeezing at his heart.

Luke tightens his arms around her.

"You don't have to explain it to me, Jules, it's okay."

"No I- I want to."

Luke relents, nodding at her words as he patiently waits for her to continue.

"I found the song right before leaving home back in September, and when I saw it...it just hurt too much. I couldn't even get past the title." She releases her grip on his shirt only to start tracing random patterns on his arm, leaving a trail of goosebumps behind.

“I packed it up and brought it with me thinking I’d be able to read it once settled in my dorm, a space my mom’s never been in but — it took me months to even take it out again, and then a few more months after that just to read through the whole thing. That first time I was a mess," she laughs, a small quiet sound. "Flynn was so close to dragging me to Madam Pomfrey but I managed to convince her I was okay-ish. And then after that it slowly started becoming a little easier every time I read through it until one day I just knew the full song by heart." She stops talking for a few minutes, lost in her own thoughts as she continues her ministrations on his arm. "But even then I still couldn't get myself to sing it, I was always so scared that once I did, it meant that my mom really was gone, that the last piece I had connecting me to her was over and I couldn't bear it..."

Luke's heart drops at her words, an apology ready on the tip of his tongue.

"But the minute I walked into our studio again, this studio, after watering those plants and being able to share all of her stories about spirits and magic and life always being around even after death with you, it just...clicked." She lifts her head up from her hiding place, finally locking eyes with him. "I carry her with me, in everything I do. And I know that I would have eventually figured this out myself, probably once I went back home over the summer, maybe, but..." Julie places her hand against his cheek, her fingers warm against his skin. "It wouldn't have been the same, and I- well, thank you. Again." She tilts her head, looking at him from under her lashes with a smile so radiant on her face, all he can do is nod, turning his head to press a kiss against the palm of her hand.

He feels her fingers twitch against his face, a hitch in her breathing as he looks back up at her.

He finds her looking at him, eyes wide and open, looking both tired and fully awake with dried tear tracks down her cheeks, her bun falling apart with loose curls bending at weird angles from a long day of classes, but all he can think is how beautiful she is. How much he loves her and everything she is, and he tries to hard to stop himself but-

"I love you.”

The words spill out, unable and unwilling to stay locked up anymore. His own eyes widen at his confession, regret flooding in the second he says it.

"I- I- I," he tries to backtrack, to fill the silence, anything, but now that the words are out in the open, his brain and mouth seem to have detached, neither one wanting to cooperate with the other.

Julie stares at him, her eyes somehow growing larger, her mouth forming into the shape of an "o".

“Oh.”

Luke braces himself for her rejection, prepares himself to feel the cold air rush in the minute she moves off of his lap.

But instead, Julie brings up her other hand to fully cup his face, her mouth stretching out into a full blown grin.

"You love me?" she asks, breathless.

Luke, too stunned to do anything else, simply nods at her question.

“You love me," she repeats, this time more of a statement than a question.

She surprises again him by laughing, a lovely melodious sound that pulls the laughter out of him, joining her in her mirth as he chuckles quietly along in his confusion.

"I'm sorry I'm not- I'm not laughing at you," she tries to get out between laughs, her smile still present on her face. "I'm just in disbelief, I-" She shakes her head, laughter quietening down as her thumbs swipe along his cheekbones.

"I love you too."

Those four words take him by surprise, affecting him in a way even her singing hadn’t, his mind spinning, heart racing, entire being vibrating.

Julie Molina loved him.

She loved him too.

He takes his time to commit this moment, her face, the feel of her weight on his lap and the warmth of her hands against his cheeks, to memory. His eyes roam her face, taking in every detail, before they finally land on her smiling lips.

He briefly thinks back to all the moments he had wished he could kiss her, taste her smile and her joy and happiness - and share in that glow that always seemed to be uniquely hers.

He now smiles at that thought, thinking that maybe he might actually be able to experience the one thing he had always craved but thought was off-limits.

Lifting his eyes back up to meet her, Luke leans slightly forward, in askance, in invitation. When she reciprocates his movements, Luke brings both his hands up from behind her back, cupping her face as he pulls her closer to him, ending years’ worth of pining.

That night was the first time of many that Luke Patterson was given the privilege of tasting Julie Molina's smile.

fin

#jatp #juke #julie and the phantoms #jatp fics #luke patterson #julie molina #julie x luke #luke x julie #HP AU #my fics #thedeathdeelers fics #guys this thing is 5k #this is the longest thing i have EVER written #im-#ya #the power of juke

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ac3id · 3 years

Text

Plaything | 18+ | part i

plaything 1/ ?? | part 0

pairings: yandere! bully bakugou katsuki x fem! reader

warnings: [series] blackmail, bullying, dubcon/ noncon, filming w/o consent, yandere themes, no quirks au. ALL CHARACTERS ARE ABOVE 18 YEARS OF AGE.

↪ for chapter 1: dubcon, blackmail, humiliation, masturbation, filming w/o consent, boot grinding, a little bit of bakusquad + reader....this is filthy :D

summary: by luck you get enrolled into u.a high the best school in your town. the only catch is that the school is filled with rich, spoilt and powerful brats who just seem to hate you and among them, a certain red eyed blonde dreads you the most

↪ for chapter 1: you bump into bakugou by accident, dropping your vanilla ice cream all over him, you try to apologize and run away but wants more...oh wait why are his friends standing there recording everything too?

wordcount. 4k+

a/n: sooooo, it’s finally out! huge thanks to @sawamooora for proof reading this! helped me out a lot <3 sorry for making u sit through that mess x[

this scene was inspired by that one episode of boys over flowers where the mc’s best friend drops ice cream on the main guy’s shoe and he asks the mc to lick it off...obviously that didn’t happen in the show but it really got me thinking......

alsO the netflix show elite,,, i just saw it and knew,,,,

taglist: @mocha-focha, @erenyeagersbasement , @haribo-pop, @sunshine-fangs, @kuremis, @amazing-fandoms,

dm/ inbox/ comment to be added/ removed.

—navigation

It was a great opportunity. Never in your life would you have thought you’d manage to land a scholarship at the prestigious U.A Private Academy.

The school was a dream, the best in your city, and only affordable for the rich. Graduating from such a school could have helped you with life in so many different ways. Not only would it open doors you could never touch before, but it would help you to form connections which would make your life undoubtedly easier.

Graduating from U.A. was a blessing, but obviously, it did not come easy. It was rather unfortunate. After your previous school building had collapsed, due to some accident, the board announced its year-long closure.

At the time, you were beyond lost and understandably frustrated - it was your last year before college and you simply couldn't risk waiting the year out. The whole situation was nerve-wracking, looking for decent schools which would allow you in.

Honestly, you had no idea what you would’ve done if U.A. hadn’t called you that night.

It was the last day of the summer holidays, a week after your school building had collapsed. Luckily, no one was hurt - but the damage on the campus was severe.

You had been talking to your friends when your mother rushed into your room with exciting news. Apparently, the chairman of U.A was feeling generous. He had decided to offer four excellent students from your school a scholarship to U.A.

You were overjoyed being one of the students along with your two other friends; Shinso Hitoshi and Izuku Midoriya.

At first, the thought was a little scary - going into a completely different world than you were accustomed to. The kids there would be much different than you, you didn't want to be the laughing stock, you didn’t want to be their silly little entertainment... The thought made you nervous, but when your best friend, Izuku, called you the next night explaining how he also won the scholarship; followed by Shinso, you were relieved.

Yes, you were stepping into a whole different world but you at least had your two friends with you.

And that brought you to the first day of school.

You stood outside the huge gates of the even enormous academy all alone shaking in your little, expensive skirt they forced you to wear as the uniform waiting for your friends. You promised the two boys you’d wait for them, and besides, you weren’t planning on entering the building all alone.

Your friends, Shinso and Midoriya, lived close to each other. They were supposed to meet you at the gates of the school that morning, but they were running late. Your anxiety grew the longer you stayed there, with students filling the place- arriving in their fancy cars with their expensive bags and accessories. It easily made you feel out of place.

“Hey,” you heard someone before someone tapped on your shoulder. You quickly turned around to greet the voice. Staring back at you was Uraraka Ochaco.

You remembered she was in your school too, Midoriya has a huge crush on her.

“Yes, Uraraka? Right?” You weren’t close to her, nothing but mere acquaintances. But seeing her face - right here, right now - it made your day.

Uraraka was dressed in the same uniform as you, there was no doubt that she was one of the four kids who won the scholarship. Both of you talked while you implored her to wait for Midoriya and Shinso. You didn’t fail to notice the way her cheeks turned pink when you mentioned Midoriya. The two of them were so obvious.

Your friends arrived, they were late, but they came.

Apparently, there was an accident that forced them to stay back a little longer, but they managed to make it before the first bell.

“I actually have an old friend who goes there now,” Midoriya confesses out of the blue as the four of you enter the gates. You look at him in awe.

During the three years in high school that both of you had spent together, he had never mentioned any friend of his going to the U.A. academy ever.

“Why did you never tell us?” Uraraka asks.

“well, we’re not on good terms. He used to live in the same neighborhood before his parent’s business took off. He left after middle school.” Midoriya says, a slight frown forming on his face.

“Who is he?” Shinso asks.

Midoriya pauses briefly before explaining his entire history with a temperamental and rude blonde. Bakugou Katsuki, he calls him. His childhood friend. But from what you managed to gather, Bakugou was anything but a friend to Midoriya.

Bakugo was once just a simple boy, living a simple life, destined to do great things - but once his parent’s clothing line ‘Dynamite’ blew up and became mainstream, he started drowning in wealth. Bakugo moved out of his old neighborhood at the starting of high school before enrolling in U.A., just like all his rich friends.

“Maybe you should say hi,” Uraraka suggests. Midoriya’s expressions turned sheepish.

“About that…” he started. “I called him yesterday, got his number from mom, and-” he stopped.

“What did he say?” Shinso asked.

“He told me to get lost and die,” Midoriya said with a slight frown on his face, looking down.

That was your first impression of Katsuki Bakugou. For a man you had not even met, you sure loathed him.

School went smoothly for a week, everything was going great. The four of you kept your profile low, didn’t talk until spoken to, kept your distance, and everything was okay.

People often starred and whispered amongst each other when they saw you in the hallways, but that was about it. Everyone seemed to be decent but… there’s always a but.

Everything took a turn for the worse when you managed to piss off the wrong person, Bakugo Katsuki himself.

It was an honest mistake, not even that big of a deal - especially for his standards Yet, for some reason, Bakugo wanted to get under your skin.

It happened after your lunch break, you were on your way back to your classroom with an ice-cream cone fasted tightly in your hands. You mindlessly dashed through the hallways, trying your best to get back to class as fast as possible - you don’t want to be late. It’d earn you a bad reputation. You don’t need that- you don't want anything which could jeopardize your scholarship.

You walked straight and took a turn. Just by fate, you bumped into a stiff, hard chest making you wobble on your feet and sending your ice cream from your hand flying straight to the ground.

“Shit,” you cursed, looking down seeing what you had to work with.

The ice-cream cone splattered on the floor, the white creamy liquid flushed all over the floor along with staining an expensive-looking, black leather boot. A snarl comes from above you along with a group of chuckles. More expensive shoes come into your line of view as you realize you’re not alone.

You slowly bring your gaze up, ogling at who you just pissed off.

Staring back at you is a furious blonde, glaring at you with such intensity that it makes your stomach drop. It’s the infamous Bakugou Katsuki, you don’t want to deal with him.

“I’m sorry, I wasn’t looking where I was going,” you don’t give him a chance to complain as you take your flight. Quickly, you try running away but a large hand grabs your forearm, stopping you dead in your tracks.

You look to the side, deep red eyes stare right back at you.

“Where are you running off to? Don’t you think you owe my friend here a proper apology?” Kirishima says, his grip on your arm growing tighter. He towers over you, his huge body trapping you with intimidation.

Going to U.A for over a week there’s a thing or two that you’ve learned about the rich, snobby brats who own the school. Not everyone is bad, a few of them are actually but the rest are just bad.

Bakugou was the worst. From how Midoriya described him, you knew for a fact he’d be a horrible person. But hell, he managed to prove himself even worse.

He was crude, mean, downright arrogant, and ignorant. Always screaming unasked opinions on top of his lungs, and gets mad whenever someone disagrees. He acts like the world revolves around him.

Bakugo had a bunch of friends who he called his “followers” and they weren’t any better.

They just watched while Bakugou ruined everything, they were there to support him.

Kirishima Eijirou the redhead, he was captain of the football team. He was a jock, brawns over brains kind of person. Girls cooed over him and his overly attractive, hot body. It looked as if he was sculpted by God himself.

Next was Kaminari Denki. He was in the school band, dating the lead singer. And yet, he managed to find time to flirt with other girls. He was the goofball of the group, dumb and stupid But he always knew what he was doing. Even though it was barely noticeable, you could always see a devious glint in those amber eyes of his.

Sero Hanta was famous for a lot of reasons. Most notably for having brought illegal drugs on the campus and skipping classes to go down to his junkie hangout spot to smoke weed. The man had no shame. Sometimes, he’d walk into the classrooms high as fuck. The teachers couldn’t do anything even if they tried, his parents practically owned the school; he owned the school. There was no going against the tall, lanky man who looked like he couldn’t even smash a bug. He held the most power and his friends sure knew how to abuse it.

Last but not least was Mina Ashido. The one and only girl member of the self-proclaimed ‘bakusquad’. Sometimes, Jirou Kyouka, the lead singer of the school, would hang out with the boys and her boyfriend, but she wasn’t a permanent member. Mina was.

In your opinion, Mina was a nightmare dressed like a daydream. With her short, pink hair and bright smile, she seemed like an angel. But she was the devil. Worse than even Bakugou, perhaps.

She knew everything about everyone, she had leverage galore: screenshots ready to leak, videos ready to ruin lives. She had them all, and frankly- she scared you the most.

Kirishima pushed you back, and Bakugo caught you by your shoulders.

“That was fucking rude,” he growled, biting his fingers into your shoulder blades tight and hard making you squeal. “Are you fucking blind or something? Fucking extra.”

“I said I’m sorry, let me go will you?” Even in such a terrifying situation, you try to remain calm.

“What do you think, Sero?” Kaminari began. Your heart sank, including Sero into anything was never a good sign.

“She ruined Bakugou’s new shoes,” he continued. Bakugou’s hold on you tightened and you winced, turning back to him and returning his glare.

“Okay, what do you want?” you give in, finally. A mischievous spark lights up in his crimson eyes as flashes a cocky smirk to his friends before turning back to you with a frown. He pushes you towards Mina and she catches you with an arm around your shoulder.

“Those were expensive, right?” she looks at you and then back at Bakugou. He grunts, nodding.

“Fuck yes, I’m pissed as hell. Some fucking extra managed to ruin it.”

You look back down to steal a glance at his heavy, leather boot. The small, white stain melted away.

“What will you do to make up for it?” Mina whispers your name and you cringe. They were teasing you. For their fun, they were making fun of you.

“What can I do?” you say, sarcastically. Prying yourself away from her hold. The crowd goes dead silent before speaking. Sero is the first one to talk.

“Lick it off.”

There’s a pause, no one speaks. Your stomach drops and your face pales at the look the five of them are giving you- it’s serious. Dead serious.

Kaminari bursts out laughing followed by Sero and the others. The four of them get a great laugh but Bakugou stares at you head-on with his grave expressions burning through your soul.

“Whatcha looking at? Do it,” he commands.

The laughing dies down and Kaminari speaks, “are you serious? You want her to lick your shoe,” he can’t control his laughter, a chuckle breaks with every word.

“Yes, I’m fucking serious. Besides, Sero recommended it,” he smirks. “Do you really want to say no to him? I don’t know so much about this but-“ he leans down close to your face, his lips ghosting the shell of your ear, “it might complicate your scholarship.”

There’s a twisted rhythm in his voice. He’s enjoying tormenting you. You still want to believe that they’re just messing around. That they’ll have their laughs and let you go, but the way Sero stares at you says otherwise.

“You don’t wanna do it?” Bakugou asks.

“Of course she doesn’t! That’s gross, oh my god.” Mina exclaims, earning a chuckle from the rest of the boys.

“Hey, let’s hear it from Sero himself.” Kirishima pats Sero’s back, pushing him forward. The five of them have circled around you, coiling you inside their venomous nest with you in the center. You turn to Sero with pleading eyes, looking up at his huge form, begging.

He smirks looking down at you, you look so tiny beneath bim. He wants to mess with you, even more, you look like a nice toy to him. He wants to play with it until he can’t.

“I guess, I did say that-” your blood runs cold, heartbeat picking up in nervousness. “-but you don’t need to do it.” He finishes. Your face lights up while the others groan in disappointment. Bakugou looks livid.

“Just know that, you’re the one who dropped the ice cream on Bakugou’s shoe and now you’re not even helping him out. That’s not very noble, is it? I don’t know if I even by mistake slipped that info back home- my parents might reconsider whether you truly deserve to be here or not. They don’t really like disrespectful kids who comprise the school’s name.”

Sero ends his speech with a wide, ear-to-ear grin, followed by a pat to your head.

“The choice is yours.”

You pause for a moment and think. Where they were really going to make you do it, where they were really going to humiliate you like this. They were. But were you willing to do it?

From Sero’s threat, you could tell he was serious, this was legit.

It wouldn’t have been the first time the school expelled someone who had beef with Sero, and it certainly wouldn’t be the last. They don’t care about anyone but their loving son. They wouldn’t even think once before expelling you.

“What’s your answer, princess?” Kirishima teases.

Mina and Kaminari once again break into fits of laughter.

“What do you mean? She doesn’t have a choice here, kneel you extra.” Your heart hammers in your chest as Bakugou gestures you to kneel. You stop for a second, breathing unevenly- thinking. After a long, thoughtful sigh, you answer.

“No, I am not going to do it.” Your voice is meek yet clear. Even though you’re trembling under the heavy gazes of five snakes, you choose to stand your ground.

Bakugou glaring at you while the others boo.

“Aw, c’mon you don’t mean that.”

“Don’t be a little brat.”

Bakugou stays silent while the others continue to throw insults at you - calling you names and trying to make you regret your decision. You look straight forward into Bakugou’s cold, red eyes, searching for his next move. Your heart beats even harder in your chest with increased anxiety. After watching your torment for more than a few minutes, Bakugo decides he’s had enough of this game.

“Hey, shitty hair,” Bakugo starts. “Punch me.”

“What?” Kirishima asks, vividly shaken. “Why do you want me to hit you, Bakubro?”

“Punch me real hard, give me a black eye.” The confusion grows greater on everyone’s faces. You stare at him in awe, wondering what angle was trying to play.

Kirishima raises his hands in defense. “Woah, dude slow down there. I’m not just going to punch you.”

Bakugou clicks the roof of his tongue, letting out a sound of irritation. “You all are just dumb,” he starts.

“Imagine if this punny, little,” he leans down closer to you till his lips touch your ears and whispers your name with a crude chuckle. “Were to drop all her food over me, not apologize, punch and me then run away, that’d bring her into a whole world of trouble. Wouldn’t it?”

Bakugo’s words are calculated and sly, he knows exactly what he’s getting at when he starts. His voice fills you up with dread as he makes his accusations public.

“She would be expelled on spot and Kacchan could also raise charges,” Kaminari adds.

Your eyes widen in fear.

“Yeah, I’ll fucking do that.” Mina giggles. “That would succck,” she cheers. Your lower lip quivers as you stare at them in disbelief, your eyes open wide only to be covered with fear.

“Hey, c’mon, why are you doing this to me?” You feel them inch closer to you, their warmth leeching onto you the longer you stay surrounded by them.

“Because you have no fucking manners.” Bakugou snarls.

“Kiri, punch him. What are you waiting for? If you don’t wanna do it I will!” Kaminari cries, growing impatient.

Kirishima laughs before he charges Bakugou. Your heart hammers in your chest.

You think about your family, your future, and how disappointed everyone would be with you. Your dreams and aspirations, all were rooted in this school.

It was honestly sad, pathetic even. Your entire future was just a joke to these spoiled kids. These kids who could control you, and everyone else, with just a flick of their fingers. It’s unfortunate, but that’s the price to pay for a piece of the beautiful cake known as U.A... You resign yourself to your fate.

A piece of your mind.

“N-no, don’t do that. I-I’ll do it,” you murmured, your voice timid and weak. The five paused looking at each other with an ominous glint in their eyes. Bakugou was the first to speak.

“Well, then fucking get on with it. On your knees.” Obediently like a trained puppy, you got down onto your knees, not letting your eyes fall from Bakugou’s face. His red, fierce eyes barked at you with an unknown look, keeping you lost.

“Holy shit, she’s actually doing this,” Mina squealed watching you lean forward, bringing your face next to Bakugou’s expensive boots.

“Kaminari, record this.” Sero taps at the energetic blonde, forcing him to take his phone out and hit ‘record’. As you lean further to the ground, your short skirt rides up behind you, giving the audience a clear view of your round ass and pastel panties. The sight brings a smile to Bakugou’s face as he scoffs.

“Cute panties,” he remarks.

You jerk, trying desperately to sit back, but Bakugo stops you. Smashing his other foot on top of your shoulder, he holds you there facing the ground.

“Don’t. You. Dare.” he growls.

You squirm, almost falling under his weight and as much you hate to admit it, a tingle of excitement runs down your spine. This was turning you on.

A row of whistles flood in, the boys start teasing you and praising Bakugou.

“Lick it off,” he commands.

You look down at his leather boot, the ice cream almost melted. There’s still a bright white spot of the sweet now liquid splayed out. Even though it’s not a lot, it still makes you cringe. You peek your shy, little tongue out timidly, forcing yourself to do the heinous deed.

Bakugou watches you hesitate and pushes on your shoulder harder making you reach towards him.

You give in after a final attempt, diving into his wishes. Your wet tongue touches the rough, cold leather. You cringe after a single touch, closing your eyes and scrunching your nose at the salty taste. “Clean it all off,” he commands.

You dive back in, this time letting your tongue glide across a larger portion. The humiliation burns through your body. It makes you uncomfortably hot, mostly from anger and but a little bit of arousal.

“Nice ass.”

There it is. The excitement comes back the moment they start making suggestive comments, the attention riles you up and it’s horrible.

“Kaminari are you even supposed to be here? Don’t you have a girlfriend?” Mina asks at the blonde pervert who was currently zooming on your ass.

“Oh? We’re cool as long as I don’t stick my dick her,” he points to you. “That’s hella fucking tempting but I’m in love, dude.” He chuckles to himself, thinking about his girlfriend.

They treat you like an object, talking about you like you were some sort of a toy.

“Bet her pussy is tight,” Sero says.

Kirishima turns to Bakugou, looking at him with pleading eyes. “Yo, Bakubro, can we touch her?”

Bakugou looks on from watching you lick his boot and turns to Kirishima. A dark, unsettling gaze falls across his eyes as he speaks, “No. This one is mine.” he stares down at you.

You stop lapping on his shoe and stand back on your knees, buckling your knees you try to get up but Bakugou harshly kicks your shoulder, throwing you back and making you cry.

“Why did you do that?” you squeal, holding onto your bruised shoulder, glaring at him intently.

The rest of the group goes quiet at the display of Bakugou’s sudden violence.

He stands between your thighs, lazily resting his foot atop of your soft thighs.

“You’re fucking pathetic, you know that?” the angle you were spread out in had your skirt flipped over hips, displaying your pretty, pastel panties to everyone in the room.

Even though it’s subtle, masked by everyone’s fear of what Bakugou was planning, you still feel everyone’s gaze focused right on you and more specifically at your clothed cunt. Bakugou presses hard on your thigh making you cry.

“Useless Deku’s friends are just like him. The fucking second you walked in here, I knew you were just another useless insect for me to stomp on.” He pauses, smirking, pressing his foot onto you even harder, twisting his ankle to increase the burning sting surging across your right thigh. “And I’m doing just that.”

He steps off you for a moment, letting you catch your breath and recover from the burn. His eyesight travels lower down to your panties. He admires the cute pair you had on. Normally when he’d see girls naked, they’d dress themselves up the most luxurious to match his standards. But that’s not you, that could never be you.

He rejoices at the thought of seeing your flushed, tear-stained face breaking down under him. You’ll never be like those girls, always a step behind. He can build you up and break you however he likes, you’d have no say in it.

The power trip drives him crazy.

He presses the tip of his boot over your clothed clothed cunt, pushing the hard material right over your sensitive clit.

You gasp at the feeling, looking up at him with terrified eyes. He smirks down at you, moving his foot in a steady rhythm, rubbing the fabric of your cotton panties against your little pearl.

“This turning you on? What a freak.” The rest of his group basks in shock. They watch intently as the scene spiraled out for them, too captivated to make any comments. They just keep quiet and stare.

The way you squirm under Bakugou as he plays with your cute clit so unforgivingly makes them hot with excitement. Kaminari feels a little guilty but he blames it on his nature as a man.

Sero feels a little bad for you, they all do. But then again they wouldn’t waste the opportunity to be in Bakugou’s footsteps- literally.

“You’re a little slut, you know that?” Bakugou sneers.

Your gasps turn into whimpers as his simulation becomes harder. You clench your fists, desperately wishing it to be over. Tears brim in your eyes at the sheer humiliation of your corrupted form. This was just too much, too much for you to handle.

“Please, stop,” you beg, knowing he wouldn't listen. “I’ll report you,” you cry. A roar of laughter starts, shutting you up.

“Go for it, you do that.” Mina comments. Kaminari walks closer to you, bringing the camera down to your face recording your horrified expressions.

“We’ll just go ahead and post this online.” he threatens.

A drop of tear falls down your waterline following a waterfall. You cry, leave all of your dignity behind and cry. You beg them to stop but as your pleas mix with your moans, it’s hard for anyone to understand what you’re saying. It’s not like they don’t know what you’re asking them for, they just turn deaf, simply because they can.

Bakugou stops, he takes a step back, leaving you alone. You let out the tiniest cry when he leaves, ditching you just when you need his touch the most.

“Feels like I’m doing too much of the work, if you want it so bad, do this yourself.” He says. Your body still burns with desire, your clit still hard and cunt salivating, you are nowhere close to being done...

It’s as if something takes over and you are possessed by the dire need to cum, you do exactly as he says.

You snake your fingers down your panties, deliberately rubbing on your swollen little clit before pushing your finger into your drenched cunt. You cry out as you clench around your finger, the pleasure becoming unbearable. Your legs shake and you close your eyes shut.

You stay there on the floor, fingering yourself in the corridor, without any shame, while Kaminari records all of it.

“She’s gonna give me a hard-on,” Kirishima says and you moan.

“She really is a slut, huh?” Sero comments.

“She’s cute,” Mina adds with a smile.

Bakugou scoffs, “does Deku know how much of a whore you are?” He asks.

You don’t pay any attention to what he says, too busy bringing yourself to your climax.

“You’re getting all this right?” Mina looks over Kaminari’s shoulder and onto the phone screen which captures you beautifully losing yourself for everyone to see.

“You close?” Bakugou asks as you feel yourself clench around fingers tightly, he bends down on his and pulls your panties down your hips, admiring your precious cunt.

“Cute pussy,” he remarks before flicking your sensitive, hardened clit.

A rush of pleasure washes down your body as you cry while cumming. Bakugou pushes you right over the edge, a nasty grin screaming atop his face as he watches you. You curse at yourself for letting him see you like this, but there’s not much you can do but cry while you feel your juices gush around you before sliding down your thighs and onto the dirty floor.

It takes a second for you to calm down and when you do come to your senses, dread fills you up. Tears shamelessly fall down your face as you realize what you just did. The others laugh at you, without feeling any remorse.

Bakugou continues to stare at you with an unsettling look, while the others discuss the heinous crime you’ve just committed.

Sero looks down at you and you catch his dark eyes staring at you. A toothy grin scavenges his face as he speaks.

“Awesome,” he says as if he just finished some mediocre movie.

Finally, you find the courage to get up and run.

This was totally not awesome.

805 notes · View notes

jaskierswolf · 3 years

Text

An Ocean Away

Geraskier soulmate AU - A gift for my own darling soulmate @geraltrogerericduhautebellegarde.

Words: 3.8k

CW: Big mutual pining, long distance friendships, and a lot of swearing, fucking the ocean is not advised...

Read on AO3

___________

Jaskier stared at his phone and sighed loudly. Geralt was still asleep and really Jaskier should be working but he missed him. How that was even possible he wasn’t sure, they’d never even met. Geralt was all the way across the other side of the fucking ocean. Jaskier hated it. The soul bond had snapped into place on Jaskier’s birthday. He’d waited up until midnight, shaking with excitement. He’d known there was a chance his soulmate was younger than him but he didn’t care, his soulmate would be worth the wait.

Luckily for him, Geralt was a couple of years older.

Unluckily for him, Geralt also lived in America.

He sighed again and thumped his head against his desk, earning a withered glare from his boss across the room. God, he really needed to get out of his job. He was an artist, a musician! He shouldn’t be stuck in an office inputting data.

‘Geralt….’ He called out mentally, hoping to reach his soulmate in his dreams but it was no use. Geralt was down for the count and probably wouldn’t wake up for several hours.

Instead, Jaskier sighed loudly for the third time and remembered their first conversation with a fond smile.

‘Helloooooo’ he called out, fidgeting with his bedsheets. ‘anybody there?’

‘What the fuck?’ a gruff response came and Jaskier could just about make out the image of some kind of restaurant if he focussed hard enough, but that wasn’t what had caught his attention.

‘You’re American?!’ he wanted to cry. He couldn’t afford to fly out to America, not unless he followed his sisters into the family business and regained access to the Bank of Dad.

‘Fuck.’

Ah so his soulmate was a man of many words. He grinned a flopped back onto his bed. ‘I’m Jaskier, by the way, I’m from England.’

‘I’m at work, can this wait?’ his soulmate growled.

Jaskier’s heart sank. ‘Right, yes, yes… of course. I umm… well I need to go to sleep. I’m bloody exhausted. Wake me up when you’re finished?’

‘Hmm.’

Geralt hadn’t managed to wake him up. Although he still maintained to this day that he’d yelled out as much as he could without actually yelling aloud, and Jaskier had slept through the whole damn thing. Geralt’s mind was pretty quiet. He didn’t often project his thoughts unless they were actively conversing. Jaskier on the other hand kept up a steady stream of thoughts, showing Geralt the pretty flowers that he saw on the way to work, or humming new songs just for his soulmate to hear, anything that he thought Geralt might find interesting.

He pressed the home button on his phone again. Barely five minutes since the last time he’d checked. It wasn’t even time for lunch yet, let alone time for Geralt to wake up. He hoped they’d have time to video chat before Geralt had to go to work that evening but he was pretty sure that his soulmate was on an early shift. He groaned, and reluctantly started angrily jabbing at his keyboard. The endless stream of emails and shitty clients were not helping his mood. Why couldn’t Geralt be on a closing shift? At least then they’d be able to talk properly before Jaskier had to go to sleep.

“Would you stop being so pathetic, Julian?” Valdo sneered from the desk opposite Jaskier’s.

“You’re just angry because your soulmate hasn’t made contact yet,” Jaskier snapped back.

They were both twenty-four and Valdo’s soulmate was either ignoring him or was still underage. Jaskier almost pitied the man; almost.

“Just get on with your work, Julian and stop clock watching.”

Jaskier muttered a few rather inappropriate for work words under his breath and turned back to his computer. He managed to get one whole email dealt with before losing focus again. He shifted in his seat so he could sit cross-legged on the chair, and then tried again. After another few emails his feet started to tingle.

“Oh bollocks,” he whined and jumped off the chair, hopping around the office.

“For god’s sake, Julian!”

“My name… is Jaskier!” He snapped “and I’ve got bloody pins and needles!”

‘Jaskier?’ Geralt’s voice was bleary and slurred in his mind.

He squeaked and promptly fell on his arse, but it wasn’t enough to stop him from grinning madly. “Geralt’s awake!” he announced to the office.

“Take your lunch early,” Tissaia sighed “God only knows you won’t get anything else done until you’ve spoken to Geralt.”

Jaskier beamed at his boss. Fuck he could kiss her. She was so understanding and wonderful and…

And he still hadn’t responded to Geralt!

‘Geralt, darling, hello!’ he trilled happily in his mind, spinning his chair around so he was sitting backwards.

‘Are you ok?’ Geralt hummed ‘Felt angry.’

Jaskier squeaked, unable to contain the swell of love in his chest. God damn it he just wanted to hug Geralt. It wasn’t fair. Priscilla and Essi had only lived two towns away from each other. Triss had grown up with Yennefer, and yet Jaskier was stuck with a soulmate on the other side of the fucking planet.

‘Fuck the ocean,’ he grumbled

He heard Geralt’s laughter, echoed with a phantom feeling of mirth that wasn’t his own. ‘Fuck the ocean’ he agreed.

‘I’m moving to America, I’m going to invent portals and I am never letting you go,’ Jaskier sighed.

Geralt hummed again. He was tired, Jaskier could feel it. ‘Go back to sleep, darling.’

‘When’s your lunch break over?’

‘I have half hour.’

‘I’ll wait.’

Jaskier smiled dopily at his phone. There was a picture of Geralt and his horse, Roach, on the lock screen. He unlocked it quickly to check his clock app. He knew the timezone difference by heart at this point but he still needed to check. It was a habit that he had yet to break. ‘I love you.’

‘I love you too.’

Jaskier felt like crying. He just wanted to hold his soulmate. He wanted to know whether that love was platonic or romantic or what? He just… he knew he would love Geralt with every fibre of his being, and would be happy no matter what. That’s how soulmates worked after all. They were your match, and not everyone’s match was romantic.

Oh but how he yearned. He was pathetic.

‘I miss you.’

‘I miss you too’ Geralt hummed and Jaskier felt an ache through the bond that wasn’t his. He smiled sadly. He wasn’t the only one being pathetic.

They fell silent, Jaskier gazing longingly at his lock screen, trying desperately not to fall apart in the middle of his office. Maybe he should go for a walk. Maybe he should just quit his job and move to America. His soulmate was American so he wouldn’t have to worry about visas as long as he could prove Geralt was his. He just….

“Fuck,” he groaned and buried his head in his arms. He could feel the tears welling up in his eyes and there was a lump caught in his throat. “Sorry, Tissaia. I’m, I’m, well, I’m going for a walk.”

He practically launched out of his chair towards the door. Not even bothering to grab his coat. He closed his eyes and reached out to Geralt, feeling a phantom embrace as Geralt reached back. It wasn’t as good as a real hug but no real hug could soothe the ache of having to live so far apart from his soulmate.

‘Jask?’

Jaskier practically ran away from his office, down the road towards the woodland that surrounded the campus. His hands were pulling at his hair and he muttered nonsense under his breath. He counted every step that took him away from the building. He liked to imagine that every step brought him closer to Geralt but really he wasn’t entirely sure.

‘I miss you,’ he hummed again. ‘It’s not fair.’

‘I know.’

‘We’ve never even met… six years Geralt! Fuck it, fuck this shit, fuck this job,’ he kicked at the ground. ‘I don’t even want to work in an office. It was supposed to be temporary.’

‘Then quit?’

Jaskier snorted. ‘I can’t afford it.’

His father’s face flitted in front of him. He could afford it if only he weren’t so bloody stubborn. He could work in his father’s company and he could go to America to see Geralt. Why couldn’t he just accept that? Why was he insisting on making his own way?

‘Jaskier, no. It’s not worth it,’ Geralt’s voice wrapped around him like a blanket. ‘Don’t compromise on your dreams for me.’

‘But I love you!’ he whined pitifully.

‘I know and I love you too, but you’ll only resent me.’

Jaskier huffed and slid to the ground, his back resting against a tree. He rest his forehead on his knees and began to cry. Soulmates weren’t supposed to live apart for this long, it was too taxing on both parties but destiny had been cruel to them. He sobbed helplessly, his body shuddering as he dug his nails into the grass, tearing up chunks and throwing them away.

It was only when he heard his phone ring that he managed sort of pull himself out of it. He wiped his eyes and peered at the phone.

Geralt.

Of course it was, Geralt. His soulmate was video calling him. He swiped the screen to pick up and sniffed loudly. He didn’t need to sniff as loudly as he did, and he didn’t need to pout pathetically at the screen as he picked up… but he was sad and dramatic. He wanted extra sympathy points from Geralt.

“Hi,” he whined, still pouting and widening his eyes slightly for added effect. Geralt’s room was dark, just a small light turned on just out of the camera. It was a shame because he couldn’t ogle the other man quite as much as he would normally like.

Still, Geralt looked adorable. Stubble was starting to grow on his cheeks and his hair was a mess, falling in front of his eyes like rays of moonlight. “Hi.”

“I love you,” Jaskier whined as if he hadn’t already told Geralt that a hundred times today already.

Geralt, the bastard, just laughed at him. “I know, love.”

“I know. I know… but… I love you?”

“I love you too,” Geralt sighed, wiping the sleep from his eyes.

Jaskier still hadn’t managed to work out whether Geralt’s eyes were really that colour or whether it was just some trick of the light. In all the photos and video calls they looked golden, but Jaskier had never met anyone with golden eyes before. He hadn’t even realised it was possible. It was like something out of a fairy tale. Then again, he’d seen Eskel and Lambert, Geralt’s brothers, and they also had the same molten gold eyes.

Between Yennefer and Geralt’s family, Jaskier felt very plain. He was attractive enough but in such a normal way, nothing compared to Geralt’s silvery hair that made him look like he’d been blessed by the spirits of winter, and his swirling amber eyes that blazed like the sun, and then Yennefer with her locks of raven hair and piercing violet eyes.

He chewed anxiously on his bottom lip. God, why was he surrounded by such beautiful people. Brown hair, blue eyes and a dead end job.

“Hey?” Geralt’s gruff voice pulled him from his thoughts. “You’re important to me.”

Jaskier smiled sheepishly and scratched the back of his neck. He wasn’t entirely sure what emotions he’d been channeling through their bond but it was obviously enough for Geralt to be concerned. “I love you.”

Geralt tilted his head at the camera and smiled fondly, it was obscured by the darkness and the terrible quality of Geralt’s phone camera but it still managed to melt Jaskier’s heart. Stupid, dumb, soulmate. Why did he have to live in America?

“I have a plan?” Geralt said quietly, looking around his room and not meeting Jaskier’s eyes.

“A plan?”

“The restaurant I work at has live music nights,” Geralt mumbled.

Jaskier frowned. He already knew that. Geralt had mentioned it before. Normally when he was complaining about the quality of the music. Jaskier adored him for that. He loved to judge other people’s music, and he rather smugly loved the way Geralt had only ever said nice things about his own songs.

“Right?” he asked slowly, not quite understanding where Geralt was going with this.

“I spoke to Dad,” Geralt paused, licking his lips. Jaskier swallowed. It wasn’t fair. How could one man be so unreasonably attractive? He tucked at the sleeves of his jumper whilst he waited for Geralt to finish his thought. The cuffs had holes in and were fraying but it was soft and made the work day more bearable. If he gave a shit about his job he might wear nicer clothes but he’d rather be comfortable.

“Vesemir?” Jaskier prompted gently.

“He could help pay for the flights, a loan and we’ll have to pay him back,” Geralt mumbled, still not making any sense. “My apartment isn’t very big but you’re welcome to share until you find your own place? If you want your own place. I’m not making assumptions. I don’t expect you to share just because we’re soulmates but it would be cheaper and the restaurant wouldn’t be able to pay that much at first. You’d be playing music for a living though, and I know that’s what you really want to do,” Geralt cut himself of with a sharp sniff, letting out a low snarl. “Actually forget it, it’s a stupid idea.”

“Geralt?” Jaskier’s heart was racing. It almost sounded like Geralt was asking him to move to America? More than that, his own family was offering to help pay for the flights that neither of them could afford on their own.

“I said forget it,” the phone snapped off and the screen went blank but Geralt was his soulmate and it wasn’t quite that easy to runaway.

‘I don’t want to forget it,’ Jaskier told him, trying to push all the love he had for Geralt through the bond. ‘Are you asking me to move in with you, Geralt?’

‘Maybe.’

‘Geralt,’ he admonished gently. ‘I can’t quit my job on a maybe.’

‘Yes.’

Jaskier grinned. ‘I’ll resign after lunch.’

Jaskier had been tempted to just grab his bag and leave the office for good, but Tissaia had been good to him. She’d put up with his moping for the last three years and even allowed him flexible lunch breaks so he could talk to Geralt when he was awake. Not all bosses would be so forgiving. So he worked his notice. She hadn’t been surprised in the slightest when he announced his plans, if fact she seemed more surprised that it had taken so long to make the plans. He supposed most soulmates did move to be closer at the first available opportunity and he’d been pining over Geralt for six long years.

Valdo had been his usual grumpy self, sneering that Jaskier hadn’t been able to cope with the job, but there was something in his eyes, a sadness that Jaskier hadn’t expected. They had known each other since university and their rivalry was almost an act these days, but he’d thought that Valdo would be pleased to see the back of him.

His friends organised a wonderful goodbye party for him. Yennefer pulling out all the stops to make sure he had the best send off. If it weren’t for the pull of Geralt and his soulmate, he’d almost be tempted to stay. England had been his home since he was born and his life was there, his friends were there.

But Geralt was not.

And there was the promise of a career in music on the other side of the pond. It was too much to resist. So Jaskier packed up his flat. He pack a rucksack full of his favourite clothes and picked up his guitar.

Then he drove to the airport, leaving England behind for good. The flight had been almost unbearable. It was long and cramped. He spent most of the time wittering to Geralt, not that his soulmate had responded much. The lucky bugger had been asleep whilst Jaskier tried desperately to block out the noise of screaming children. At one point he started singing a popular Disney tune to try and calm the children but it had only made them more excitable and he’d earned several disapproving glares from their parents. He’d been more than relieved when the plane started its final descent towards the airport.

And then the nerves kicked in.

Six years of talking through their bond, text or video call…

What if Geralt realised he didn’t like Jaskier once they met in person?

Surely some soulmates didn’t get along. Not everyone could be that lucky… could they?

He was currently waiting for his guitar case to come round the carousel and he was panicking. He should have packed more clothes. He should have brought more belongings. He should have, he should have, he should have.

‘Jaskier!’ Geralt called and the effect was instantaneous. The tension melted from his shoulders and his fingers relaxed by his side.

‘Sorry,’ he shot back ‘just nervous.’

He’d feel a lot calmer once he had his guitar strapped to his back and Geralt in his arms. He chewed anxiously as he followed the pieces of the luggage belt with his gaze. He’d always enjoyed watching the way they shifted around as they trailed like a conga line around the airport terminal. His eyes kept flickering to the entrance of the carousel where luggage was pushing through the large rubber drapes.

“Come on,” he muttered, hopping from one foot to another.

The anxiety began to rise again with each new suitcase that wasn’t his guitar, but he could feel Geralt’s presence warm and constant in the back of his mind. It was stronger now. He’d not expected that. No one had told him that the bond would be stronger with less distance between them. They could already communicate perfectly well from across the world but now he could almost feel Geralt’s heartbeat in harmony with his own, he could feel each breath that Geralt took if he focussed on it. He could even smell the stale scent of coffee from the shop that Geralt was waiting in.

It was almost too much, overwhelming.

He could have had six more years of this if he hadn’t been a coward.

He was so caught up in the new sensations of their soul bond that he almost missed his guitar case travelling along the belt. He squeaked and had to push passed a family that was blocking his way. “Sorry! I’m so sorry, umm, excuse me!” he yanked the guitar from the belt and ran to the nearest bench. He unzipped the case quickly and inspected his precious instrument.

There wasn’t even a scratch!

He laughed brightly and hugged the instrument to his chest. One thing down, one to go. Next stop… Geralt!

He zipped up the case, flinging it onto his back along with his rucksack and then ran as fast as he could through the airport. It gained him a few strange looks but he was done. He’d had enough of waiting. He stumbled a few times as the case fell down his arm but he was persistent. He bustled through the last security check with nothing to declare and then he was free.

“Geralt!!” He yelled, scanning the sea of people for a shock of silver hair.

He saw himself through Geralt’s eyes and turned on his heels until he spotted his soulmate gazing back at him with open arms. He was here. Geralt was here. He stopped frozen to the spot for a second whilst the world seemed to slow to a halt.

Geralt.

In the flesh.

And he could hug him.

“Oh fuck,” tears were already falling down his face, a waterfall of emotions. “Geralt.”

The only word he had left, echoing through the bond, and then he was running again. His bag and guitar case dropping to the floor just in front of Geralt as Jaskier leapt. His arms flung around Geralt’s neck and his legs wrapped around Geralt’s waist. Geralt’s hands supported his weight with ease as Jaskier buried his face in Geralt’s neck, one of Geralt’s hands threading into his hair. God, he even smelled divine. That just wasn’t fair.

“I love you,” Geralt murmured in his ear.

The first words he heard his soulmate say in person, and fuck. If he hadn’t already been crying then that would have pushed him over the edge. He was a complete mess but he’d never been happier. He was here, with Geralt. He sobbed into Geralt’s shoulder until his soulmate lowered him gently to the floor. His legs felt weak and Geralt had to keep his arm wrapped around Jaskier’s middle to stop him from falling to the floor. Fingers brushed his cheek, wiping away some of the tears.

“Hey?”

Jaskier looked at Geralt through a sea of tears. “Hi,” he laughed weakly. “I love you.”

Geralt pressed his forehead against Jaskier’s “I love you too, fuck… I can’t believe you’re here.”

“I’m here,” Jaskier laughed. “Holy fuck, I’m actually here, and you’re here, and the world hasn’t fallen apart. Oh bloody hell, stop fucking crying, Jask!” he snapped, pulling away from Geralt just enough so he could wipe his face. He smiled sheepishly and gazed at his soulmate through his eyelashes. If it weren’t for the bloody ocean on his face, then he would have tried to be seductive, but that ship had long sailed. “Can… can I kiss you?”

Geralt’s ridiculously gorgeous and actually golden eyes softened. He nodded, hand still cupping Jaskier’s cheek. Jaskier almost fainted on the spot. He hadn’t been expecting Geralt to agree but he was too weak not to ask. He couldn’t even close the gap to finally kiss his soulmate, too stunned that Geralt even wanted it. Luckily Geralt still had his wits about him. A rough calloused finger stroked Jaskier’s cheek and then they were kissing.

It was magical. He felt everything, and more. Geralt’s lips on his, Geralt’s love in his heart and his own love weaving into the fabric of Geralt’s soul. It felt so strange, after all this time to actually be here. If the emotions weren’t quite so intense then he’d almost think he was dreaming.

‘I love you’ one of them sighed happily as their lips moved together, breaths mingling, souls completely entangled.

I love you, I miss you, I want you, I love you…. The thoughts never stopped as they clung to each other in the middle of a shitty airport terminal.

It was the end of Jaskier’s life as he knew it, and the beginning of a new life with Geralt by his side.

#the witcher #geraskier #soulmates au #soulmates #geralt of rivia #jaskier pankratz #wolfie's witcher writing

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butdidmarlenacomebackhome · 3 years

Text

✨hcs for the courtiers reacting to their s/o wearing their trademark outfits✨

i think i did a pretty decent job at keeping this gender-neutral, let me know if there is any mistake/room for improvement. i'd love to hear your feedback 👉🏻👈🏻

🍷consul valerius

• blushes hard

• "what a presumptious lack of decorum" said while still blushing, therfore only half-hearted

• desperately tries to hide how much he likes it but his eyes permanently glued on you kind of betray him

• the only thing he loves more than himself & his status is you, so imagine how utterly smug would he be about seeing you in his attire (not that he'd ever openly show it!!! it wouldn't be proper of him 👀👀👀)

• if you follow him around/he catches sight of you while going about his day, any hope to get things done is thrown out the window

• he's definitely not staring at you during the courtiers' meeting, his eyes just happened to focus on the general area where you're standing/sitting

• at the end of the day will literally leave you a note on your bed saying you can keep the clothes, you're welcome ("my wardrobe can afford to lose a spare, while yours could definitely use something fashionable for a change")

• spoiler it's just a roundabout way to say he wants to see you wearing his clothes again & more often 👀

• from that day on, will go out of his way to gift you jewelry, clothes, accessories matching to his own and fully expects you to always wear them

🍖procurator volta

• blushes like crazy & her eyes literally fill with stars & sparkles,, almost cries bc of what she perceives to be a clear display of affection

• "mc!!! you look!!! absolutely!!! gorgeous!!!" in modern!au would definitely tell you you look like a snackkk but to be fair she thinks you're gorgeous on any normal day

• follows you around the whole day & shily holds your hand, she loves the idea of the two of you making your way through the palace in matching outfits

• normally she'd be pretty quaint but with you by her side reassuring her of your love so openly,,, she's just over the moon my friends 🚀🚀🚀

• thinks her clothes suit you better than they'd ever do on her, but on a side note she also probably thinks anything would look good on you (the precious baby ಥ_ಥ)

• she's also pretty honored to have you dress like her, it's like a public love declaration & it makes her all fuzzy to know you're not embarrassed of her

• she'll literally convince you to stop for snacks every 15 minutes tho & no matter what you're doing or what business you're attending to, you just can't resist her puss in boots eyes & decide to join her every single time

• at the end of the day, she hugs you (I hc her loving pda but rarely initiating it bc she's too shy, so it's a bit of a shock to suddenly receive a hug from her in the middle of the castle hallway) & thanks you for the wonderful day. snuggle with her in bed. do it.

tw. for slight nsfw-ish in next one but it's literally just an allusion that's barely even there + like 1 swear word

🐞pontifex vulgora

• does a double take, like they probably were just storming the hallways going off on a tangent about how tHERE'S NOT BEEN A SINGLE FIGHT IN DECADES AND THEY'RE SO WILLING TO START ONE WITH THE FIRST ONE THEIR EYES LAND ON- and then their eyes land on you and they have to check again to see if they'd actually seen what they think they've seen

• and holy shit do you look hot

• the gauntlets on you? the armor attire? yes ma'am please and thank you

• 100% will tease you at first

• "WHAT IS THIS? HAVE YOU FINALLY FALLEN OFF THE COUNTESS' GRACES NOT TO BE ABLE TO AFFORD YOUR OWN CLOTHES ANYMORE, MAGICIAN?"

• when you scoff & tell them you'd go get changed, they phisically S T O P you

• "I DIDN'T SAY YOU COULD GO, MAGICIAN. ARE YOU BACKING OUT OF YOUR OWN DECISION? IF YOU'RE NOT A COWARD YOU HAVE TO STICK TO IT, PET"

• proceeds to drag you wherever they go to show you off & always finds a way to keep their hands on you (they prolly also start carrying you on their shoulder at some point)

• will probably try to convince you to fight because you "have to look the part", your call if you want to humor the smol anger issues gremlin or not

• at the end of the day, they'd unabashedly ask you to keep the gauntlets on for later 👀

💉quaestor valdemar

• “oh what do we have here?”

• dr uwu is already more or less accustomed to seeing you in medical gear given the amount time you spend together in the dungeons (loveliest place for play dates mind you) but seeing you in their clothes is indeed something new

• a little confused at first but they got the spirit

• might tilt their head when they see you at first, then circle around you with that little cute smug smirk on their face to inspect you throughly and take you in from all angles [ I'm looking: respectfully 😌 ] just like a cat

• MOST IMPORTANTLY!! you know how they got those two cute bandaged silly cones on their head right??? there's no way you could get those to stand upright so you just kinda bandaged your head & gave up on trying to replicate the exact look but,, dr uwu notices & they're like ay no capt'n this ain't gonna fly here

• “now, now little magician we simply can't have that. a job half done is only half the fun after all” and they actually!!! make you sit down!!! reach out behind you!!! and start working on the bandages!!! braiding your hair!!! tucking them in!!! giving you their trademark cape!!!! yes i'm melting as i write this

• they too would appreciate having you around just to observe everyone's reactions to you both casually walking through the palace (shockingly) or in the dungeons while wearing matching clothes

• power couple tbh you'd have fun intimidating & unsettling every poor soul unlucky enough to encounter you on their path

• “are you having fun, my little magician? you seem to amuse yourself quite easily”

• at the end of the day if you ask nicely they may accept to lend them to you some other time you can tell they actually had quite a bit of fun too even if they don't say so out loud

🐛praetor vlastomil

• “s/o! what a lovely sight for sore eyes!”

• one word: e c s t a t i c

• def appreciates the gesture and gets quite vocal about it,, this worm baby will shower you with compliments and attention all day

• prepare yourself to be paraded around all day while vlastomil stops random servants just to say things along the lines of “look at my gorgeous s/o, aren't they just lovely?” cue love struck gaze towards you

• he ignores whatever response random servant #143 comes up with & quickly moves on

• you know what time is it??? time to visit your babies!!! the wormies would be so happy to see you!! I hope you're not squeamish he will prompt them to show you some love too

• probably urges you to keep your head high and be confident as you walk arm in arm to remind the peasants where they stand (beneath the soles of your shoes) together <3

• probably takes you for a carriage ride to show you off some more & stare flippantly at peasants

• will fix any slight imperfection every 2 seconds, like tilting your cape so that it doesn't hang too low nor too on the side & if he's close enough he'll give you a smooch or two too istg this man has no chill

• at the end of the day he whines sm because he doesn't want you to take off his clothes,, if you manage to convince him you actually have to get changed be prepared to be BOMBARDED with requests for you to do it again for the rest of your life

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dodo-begone · 3 years

Note

See's Dodo and anons reaction to last ask.

Me: externally blushing like crazy. Internally AAAAAAAHHAHAHAHAHA *squealing noise s*

Well you know what they say the show must go on.

Wilbur was the first of the royals to really notice, after all most of his time with you was spent inside in the library since he had convinced his father to allow him to teach you instead of hiring teachers, but you never had less than two layers of clothing on even when indoors you had a large shirt and coat on. Even if it was winter now you were first brought to the castle in summer but you attire remained the same a shirt two sizes too big and a coat also large on you it was a small wonder you didn't suffer form heat stroke, maybe it was a case of those being the only clothes you owned well that wouldn't do it would be a poor showing if visiting diplomats thought they treated their (new sibling) guests with such little care and honesty buying you a new wardrobe didn't even make a dent in his personal finances. Still it was strange that both you and Tommy insisted on your new clothes being a size or two too big and also made of lighter cloth not the wool that was so common for winter attire but at the very least your and Tommy's insistence meant that he got to choose the colours of the outfits in return. Of course the main colours were white and a navy blue you were a member of the Royal (family) Court now it was only right you wore their colours, still the insistence on lighter materials for your clothes did worry him a little the winters were harsh he didn't want his (sibling) little brothers friend getting sick maybe he should bring this up with the others maybe they would know why you never took off that coat.

Techno hadn't noticed the whole coat issue until his twin pointed it out but now that Wilbur had he couldn't stop noticing it. Even when you spared with him you didn't take off the coat heck you never wore armour saying that armour only slowed you down, you had even balked, gone pale when he offered you enchanted iron armour turning down the gift and walking swiftly away. At first he and chat had felt rather rejected (sibling rejection arc, pog, e, e, Technosad) after all you had even if reluctantly accepted Wilbur gift of a new wardrobe but you were rejecting his gift, he had wanted to give you armour so he could teach you his style of fighting but you didn't want that apparently. Though now he thought about it your and theseus's apparent insistence on lighter fabrics and the rejection of the iron armour might not be as coinsidental as he might have thought, after all he had seen you shivering a few times when you thought he wasn't looking but you had refused the much warmer wool for cloth so it wasn't just you being stubborn did, did you have some sort of skin problem or other ailment that caused you pain or irritation if you wore heavy clothes or armour. Oh of course you would go pale at the idea of wearing iron armour if that was the case plus it would explain the constantly wearing a coat since you probably didn't want them to know out of misguided fear of their reaction after all he had seen how superstitious some peasants could be about such conditions from his time training new soldiers. Theseus would know you did have such a condition after all you were practically joined at the hip, but it was getting very late, tomorrow he would find Theseus and ask if he knew the reason why now he needed to find his father.

Tommy most certainly did know the reason why you never wore armour and always had a coat on. He was currently sat on your bed, both of your backs to the door, preening the reasons why you letting out quiet chirps as he helped straighten and re-aligh your feathers, after all your wings didn't exactly appreciate being covered by your coat the whole day he couldn't even imagine how much worse your wings would have been if Wilbur hadn't listened and just gotten a heavy wool coat. He remembered when your wings first came through a few years ago when your friendship was still new, you had been complaining about a rash that had suddenly appeared on your back a few days prior only to fall to the ground in pain mid sentence, he was honestly grateful that his family didn't keep track of their potion supply considering how many regen potion you needed when your wings came out leaving rather large exit wounds on your back, if he wasn't able to get those potions he didn't even want to think about what could have happened to you. Now you were here though and he couldn't let anyone know about your wings if even a servant or stable boy saw it would trickle back to his brother and his dad if Philza found out he would never let you leave, you would become as trapped as him maybe even more so due to his dad's instincts. Unfortunately since both of your backs were to the door neither of you spotted the winged watcher peering through the cracked open door.

Philza was on his way to his newest (child) guests chambers after his eldest two had come to him with worrying news about their newest ( family member) permanent. Wilbur told tales of light clothing even in winter while Techno quiet shared his own worries of them being ill and hiding it from them but to him those weren't the signs of illness no they were signs that you were like... no he should get excited it was probably an illness after all his investigations had shown that it wasn't just bandits that ravaged his nation but hybrid hunters a particularly disgusting breed of bandit that targeted hybrids to sell as pets or in the case of winged hybrids to harvest their wings as decorations. That infuriated him after all he had founded this nation to be a safe haven for hybrids but due to his own negligence they were hunted down, if you were like... him it would be a small miracle that you hadn't been taken by those hunters. Reaching the room in question open a crack he went to knock when he heard a soft chirping pausing he looked through the crack to see his youngest preening his (baby bird) guest's wings, rushing back to his own chambers he could just hear chat cawing ( baby bird, dadza, dadza, protect, keep, baby bird) he couldn't keep the massive grin off of his face as it all came together. Of course you didn't wear heavy clothing you had been hiding your wings it would mangle your feathers if you wore heavier clothing over them, the iron armour was rejected because you couldn't wear it full stop even with your wings out your bones wouldn't be able to take the weight since they were partly hollow, oh he had a little bird to teach flying and how to properly preen. His emotional high crashed though as he realised that you ran your farm alone, were you alone when your wings came through, its was the worst pain on could feel wings slowly ripping their way out of your back plus you could easily bleed out or get an infection if the open wounds weren't taken care of properly, oh you poor dear no wonder you were so attached to Tommy he was the only flock member you had. No longer though he would look after you he knew his sons had grown to care for you as much as they had Tommy, his more bird like instincts rejoiced at the thought of a fledgling joining his little flock.

Ender-anon

This is quite a bit longer than I thought it would be also first time writing hybrid reader.

sorry i took so long to answer this!! This just rlly intimidated me and anxiety went brrrr- but anyways lemmie get into this ask!!!

YOU FUCKING DESERVE THE RECOGNITION MAN UR STUFF IS SO FUCKING POG

god i rlly love royalty aus, did i ever mention that??? i just lOVE- ANYWAYS

So Wilbur's curiosity about your clothing choice only lead him to believing that what you wore was all you could afford in your previous life. He wasn't exactly wrong. And even with the new clothes you got when you moved into the castle, you refused to wear them. It was rather peculiar. Wouldn't you want to get out of those nasty and worn rags you called clothes? But you were new to the castle. He went with the presumption that the shock from the change was frightening. You must've kept your previous clothes as a safety blanket of sorts. Though after a few nasty looks sent your way over your apparel and your very obvious discomfort about it, he decided to take the executive decision to give you clothes that fit your taste and the taste of the court. Your choice to have oversized clothing confused him, but Tommy's insistence just made him presume you were self conscious of your body. To be fair, he wasn't half wrong but he was.

At the rejection of his gift, his and chat's disappointment were more than evident. Was his twin better or something? Like you accepted his gift, although reluctantly. But you still accepted it. And yet you didn't accept him. Looking back on your fear of the armor, he thought more into it. Yes the skin issues was definitely something to consider, but maybe trauma? No, trauma of armor would be strange, right? Maybe you had a family member who wore armor yet died in front of you despite their armor being worn to protect them. Or some other fear. Yea, the skin issue would be much more reasonable, actually. He'll just bring it up with father, let him know of the possible issues with their new family member.

One of the activities you two did on the daily was straighten out your feathers at the end of the day or when they were bothering you. Though the latter only happened when you two were in private. Nobody could know your secret, after all. It was for your protection and to preserve your freedom. At first, when your wings were coming in, he was absolutely terrified for you. What the fuck was going on? This isn't normal! Oh god oh fuck what is he suppose to do?! With an oversupply of potions thanks to the paranoia of attacks on the family and accidents during training, it was beyond easy to take what he needed for you. If anyone was questioned about it, he could easily say that some trainees took some.

OMG ARE YOU TRYING TO MAKE ME FUCKING CRY WITH THIS PHILZA PART?! BEACUSE I WILL CRY THIS IS SO MF CUTE- I JUST CAN'T I LOVE SO MUCH- I CAN'T ADD ANYTHING TO THAT PERFECT- I COULDN'T RLLY ADD ANYTHING TO WHAT YOU SENT ME AND I APOLOGIZE. I JUST LOVE AAAALLL OF THIS

#ask #ender anon #long post #royal au #c: phil #c: techno #c: tommy #c: wilbur #rambling with dodo

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bitchin-beskar · 3 years

Text

Royal Affairs - II

Consequences Will Follow

Rating: M

Warnings: Intense yearning, shirtless sparring, and oral (f. receiving), of course.

Pairing: Din Djarin x Reader (no use of y/n)

Word Count: 4.9k

A/N: Here’s Chapter 2!! I was planning to have this out on Christmas, but I ended up adding a couple extra scenes, so it took a little longer than I planned!! I have chapters 3, 4, and 5 outlined, so hopefully it won’t take too long for the next chapter! I’ve also got three other stories I want to get posted soon though, so it might not be right away! Anyways, I really hope y’all continue to read and enjoy this AU, I’m having so much fun with it!!!

P.S. If y’all wanna send me asks about this AU... I will gladly oblige 🥺😉

Please consider reblogging and leaving a comment!! I love hearing what you guys think!!

It’s late by the time you get back to the small housing unit you share with your sister and your buir. You’d spent hours doing mindless chores around the shop, unable to keep still, lest your mind start to wander to the guests you’d entertained earlier. It feels like a fever dream, something you can only half-recall, and when you try, you grow hot and dizzy and altogether exhausted.

Your family should be asleep, but when the door slides open, your sister and mother are sitting at the table, waiting for you with a glass of spotchka. A’denla looks up sharply as you walk in, worry written into the crease of her brow. Your mother doesn’t carry her worries visibly, but you can see in the way her eyes rove over you, checking for injuries, that she’s been just as worried as A’denla.

“Where have you been?! Do you know how late it is?!?”

Your sister is out of her seat and in front of you before you can blink, her hands gripping your upper arms as she does so, shaking you slightly. You know she’s just worried about you, but you’re exhausted, and the minute you’d gotten home and stopped moving, your mind began to wander, just like you’d hoped to avoid.

“Did he get your message? The gossip has been flying, did the King actually come to the shop?”

You blink tiredly, your exhausted brain only able to focus on one thing.

“His name is Din.”

There’s a beat of silence. A’denla’s hands drop from your arms. Then, your mother’s sharp voice pierces you like a vibroblade.

“What. Did. You. Just. Say.”

Your head swivels towards her, and you can actually see fear in her eyes. You frown. “He told me... to call him Din... twice.” Your sentence would hold more weight if you didn’t stop to yawn twice in the middle. Stars, how are you so tired?

Out of the corner of your eye, you see A’denla’s mouth drop. You yawn a third time, covering your mouth with your hand. There’s a little niggling in the back of your head telling you that you should be worried about this too, what it means for the King to ask for a peasant shopkeeper to call him by his name, but you can’t bring yourself to care, not when you’re less than twenty feet from your bed.

Your mother is muttering something to herself, and you think you catch something along the lines of “Maker, give me patience” but you can’t be sure. You just want to sleep, for kriffing sake.

“Go to bed, daughter. You look exhausted.” You weakly nod your head, already liking where this is going. “But, we are going to talk come morning.”

You hear the words your mother says, but they don’t really register as you’re already stumbling towards your room. Your sister’s voice picks up behind you as she starts to bicker with your mother, but you’re already falling into bed, asleep before your head hits the pillow.

***

Unfortunately, morning doesn’t bring you any peace and quiet like you were hoping for.

As soon as you were even halfway conscious, your mother had practically dragged you to the kitchen table, shoving you into a seat as she began pacing the length of the room. She was clearly agitated, and you didn’t have to wait long to find out why.

“What exactly happened yesterday, daughter? First, rumors are flying that the King’s son ended up in your store, then there are the rumors that the King himself visited, and then you come home half asleep, muttering about the King’s given name?! What in the name of the Maker possessed you, child? Do you know how much trouble we could get in with you just throwing the name of the King around like he’s some... some....”

Your mother’s breath quickens as she rants, raising higher and higher until she’s practically shouting. Her yelling makes you feel about a third of your actual height, small and meek as she scolds you. Stars, you knew better than to say the King’s name out loud, it was the height of disrespect! And coming from someone of your station? If anyone other than your mother or sister had heard...

It didn’t bear thinking about.

Your buir is clearly waiting for an explanation, but just as you open your mouth, a sharp knock sounds at the door. Both of your heads jerk towards the entryway, and for a moment, neither of you move.

When you go to stand, your mother holds up her hand sharply, gesturing for you to stay put. You feel shame rising in your cheeks at the way she’s treating you, like you’re still a child, but given last night, you can’t entirely blame her.

You’re only half listening as she answers the door, but when she calls your name loudly, her voice shaky, you jerk out of your seat, practically running to the door to see what’s wrong, only to draw up short when you see the woman standing there.

“I’m Cara Dune. I’m an advisor to the King,” she informs your mother, bending in a short, sharp bow of respect, causing your mother’s eyes to widen. “I’ve been sent to collect your daughter.” She turns to you. “Our King requests your presence at the palace.”

You have to physically stop yourself from twisting your hands in your skirt nervously. “Di– Did the King say why?” You ask, heart racing as you try to remember every little detail about your interaction with him yesterday. Did you offend him in some way, and he’s only now punishing you for it? Does he think you lied to him about the bounty hunters? Does–

“Your presence is requested.”

Swallowing harshly, you nod. Even though it is framed as a request, all three of you are well aware of the fact that a summons by the King is not something to be turned down lightly.

“Come on.” Cara turns and stalks out the door, her steps heavy and loud in the tense silence of your house. Your mother is staring at you with this indescribable expression, but when you make to step past her, she grips your arm tightly, causing you to turn to look at her.

“If you’ve done anything–”

The threat hangs in the air, and you nod shakily. She doesn’t even need to finish her statement. You understand her meaning perfectly clear. Whatever problems you’ve caused need to be fixed, or else. Your family doesn’t need the displeasure of the King of Mandalore hanging over your heads.

She lets you go and you follow Cara out the door, wishing you had a moment to change into something more presentable. You’re just in a simple dress meant for working around the house, not for audiences with royalty. Unfortunately, you doubt Cara is going to want to wait, and the quicker you get through this inevitable disaster, the better.

There’s a speeder waiting to take you both to the palace. Cara’s already waiting, so you gingerly step inside.

“Never been in a speeder before?”

You don’t have to look at her to know she’s looking at you with that look. The one all the higher-born give those born into a lower station, the peasants. “My family has never exactly been in a position to afford a ride in a speeder, much less own one of our own.”

Cara hums, and gestures for the speeder to start. You feel the engines rumbling beneath your feet and the speeder starts up, gliding smoothly above the ground as you begin to make your way out of the lower levels and up towards the palace.

You can’t help but look around, entranced by the way the buildings shift, from dingy, rundown stores and homes to sleek, shining high-rises and elegant towers seemingly constructed purely of transparisteel. You’ve never been out of the village before, so this was all completely unfamiliar, and you were even more self-conscious of your appearance. It was clear you didn’t belong here.

“You don’t need to be nervous,” Cara said suddenly, and you looked over at her incredulously. “I don’t think I’ve ever seen Din so tongue-tied before.”

The King? Speechless? Because of you?!

“I’m sure you’re mistaken,” you whispered, looking down at your hands. Maker, your buir would kill you if you brought such unnecessary and unwanted attention to yourself. It wasn’t proper for a peasant to be drawing the attention of anyone above their station, especially the King himself. It didn’t matter how it had felt when he’d spoken to you, nor how his hand had felt on your back when he’d stood behind you in your shop. Peasants had been killed in the past for less scandalous acts than you’d engaged in.

“You’re very pretty.” Your head jerked up at Cara’s blunt words. “I’m not surprised Din is so drawn to you.”

Oh Maker, he thought you were pretty?

Cara just chuckled, terror and embarrassment clear on your features as you gripped your skirts tightly. This was not good.

“It’s not proper.”

The words left your mouth before you could stop them, and Cara suddenly stopped laughing. You flinched, worried that you’d offended her when she suddenly covered your hands with her own.

“Din doesn’t care about propriety. He was a bounty hunter before he became the King. The same people who look down on you for being a shopkeeper looked down on him as just a dumb mercenary.” You slowly raised your head, meeting Cara’s surprisingly comforting gaze. “And now, they all grovel at his boots, hoping that he’s forgotten how they treated him before he won the Darksaber.”

She pauses again, her hands tightening over yours. “Din doesn’t care about money or expensive gowns or connections. None of those things could impress him more than when he saw how you’d genuinely cared for his son. You didn’t know he was the King’s son, you didn’t care. You just saw a hurt child and took him in. That is why Din was so entranced with you.”

You were silent for a moment, mulling over her words, before something struck you as odd. “W–Wait, was? What do you mean by that?”

Cara’s soft grin suddenly turned wicked. Your eyes widened at the pure glee and mischief in her eyes. “Well, then he met you.” She waggled her brows, looking you up and down, a dirty smirk wide on her lips. “Now he’s entranced for a whole other reason.”

The innuendo was clear in her voice, and you felt your cheeks heat rapidly. She had to be joking. There was no way that the King found you attractive. It just wasn’t possible. You’d spent your entire life being told how plain you looked, by your buir, and the children you’d grown up with. You sister and Vys had tried to tell you otherwise, but you knew they were just trying to make you feel better after yet another boy taunted that you’d never find someone who wanted you.

Mandalorians were well known for their passion and intense desire. It wasn’t unheard of for couples to say their vows in their late teens, with females often pregnant before their twentieth year. Courtships often took days and weeks instead of months and years, a hold-over from when Mandalore almost fell to the Empire. It had become custom to find a riddur and marry quickly, and to get pregnant even quicker, incase too many warriors fell in battle.

Children were revered in your culture, and men and women alike dreamed of starting families, raising ad’ike and ensuring the continuation of the Mandalorian way of life, a desire that only grew stronger with the war.

Even though you weren’t that old in terms of lifecycles, you were much older than was typical for starting a family. Your sister had married young, but her husband had died only a year and a half after their union, and she’d chosen not to find a new riddur. Your brother has been married for close to twenty years now. But you’d never come close to finding someone you wanted to spend your life with. Not that your family hadn’t tried to fix that.

But you didn’t want to marry someone just so that you could pop out a few children so that you could be seen as “doing your duty for the betterment Mandalore.” You just wanted a riddur who would respect and love you, but it seemed that it wasn’t meant to be. The few boys you’d let your guard down around and had gotten close to had been absolute di’kuts, cocky and rude, demanding you submit to them and give up everything to please them, so you’d given up on ever finding a riddur.

“I’m not the kind of woman to inspire those kinds of thoughts in a man,” you muttered, missing the suggestive smirk Cara sent your way.

“You’ll see,” she whispered, turning back to watch as you approached the palace.

***

Cara had marched through the grand hallways of the palace with an air of authority that stunned you. Even though her outfit made her look out of place in the sleek and elegant palace rooms and halls, her absolute confidence radiated out, filling the rooms with her presence.

You just followed along behind, silently grateful for the fact that the palace seemed to be empty. Cara seemed to know exactly where she was going, and you followed her through all the turns, hopelessly lost. You’d never be able to find your way out of here by yourself, which made you feel a little uncomfortable, but you tried not to dwell on it.

As you made your way down yet another hallway, you started to hear what sounded like grunts, along with repeated clangs of metal hitting metal. Eyes wide, you almost asked Cara what it was you were hearing when she turned, a grin on her face.

“We’re here.”

She pushed open a door, and the grunts and clangs grew louder as the two of you entered what looked to be a training room. There was a large mat in the center of the room, with seating off to one side. There was specialized equipment lining the other sides, for what you assumed was different exercise routines. You first noticed little Grogu, seated on the stands. He turned when the door opened, and his little coo reached your ears as he clambered down, waddling over to you as fast as he could.

You’d thought he was running to Cara, but when he ran straight past her and collided with your legs, your eyes widened. He gripped the fabric of your skirts in his little claws, his big, beautiful eyes begging for you to pick him up.

Without thinking you bent over and scooped him up, settling him on your hip. You looked up to see Cara grinning. “He missed you.”

Your eyes widened. “Wait, what?”

She nodded. “Yeah. He really didn’t want to leave your shop last night. He pouted all day until Din told him you were coming.” Your heart melted, looking down at the little one who was snuggling into your side.

There was a loud smack, and you looked up suddenly to see a huge shirtless man falling back onto the mat, the beskar staff falling to the ground next to him. Another man, also shirtless, stood over the fallen fighter, his own beskar staff secure in his grasp.

A quiet gasp left your mouth, your eyes widening as you took in the sight before you. The man with his back to you was clearly in excellent shape, his golden skin glistening with sweat, his shoulders broad and muscled. His dark hair curled at the ends as it brushed the nape of his neck. His legs were clad in a pair of black pants, tight enough to show the muscles of his thighs and calves. You’d never seen a more attractive man, and you hadn’t even seen his face. The man on the ground was attractive as well, big and hulking and covered in tattoos, but your eyes kept flitting back to the victor of the fight.

You didn’t see the gleeful look Cara shot you, as she watched your eyes widen and your breath hitch when you saw the two fighters. Maybe if you’d seen her look, you would have been better prepared for what came out of her mouth.

“Din! Paz! We’ve got a guest, you nerf herders!”

Her yell was loud enough to cover the gasp of shock as you realized just who the shirtless men were. You recognized Paz, the general of Mandalore’s fighting corps, even though you’d never seen him. Gossip about him and his abilities had reached even the lower villages, and his tattoos were legendary. But it was the other man who still held your attention. The King.

He turned, his eyes landing on you and Cara, standing near the door. His gaze focused on you, and you felt your cheeks heat at his intense gaze. You’d thought his armour was intimidating, but actually looking him in the eyes was far more so. A slow smile spread across his lips, and he began to move towards the three of you.

You swallowed, forcing your eyes to stay on his face, and not the glistening skin of his bare chest. As he approached, Cara leaned in, plucking Grogu from your arms and whispering “have fun!” before turning and making her way towards Paz. Your eyes widened as she left your side, before you forced yourself to sink into a curtsy as the King came to a stop in front of you.

“My king,” you whispered, standing upright, but keeping your head bowed. You had no idea why you’d been summoned, and you were practically trembling with worry.

He was silent for a moment when suddenly, he reached out, lightly gripping your chin as he coaxed your head up, his eyes dark as he captured your gaze.

“I thought I asked you to call me Din?” His voice was soft, soothing, and yet you felt shame. Your king wanted one thing, but you knew what propriety demanded, even if it meant disobeying his direct order.

“It’s not proper, my king. I have no right to speak your name–”

He shushed you softly, his thumb brushing the underside of your jaw. “If you truly do not wish to use my name, I will not force you, darling.” Your eyes widened at his words, shocked. Here you were, outright disobeying a direct order from your King, and he was okay with that?

“But I dearly wish you would,” he continued, watching your face closely. “My name sounds so sweet, falling from your lips. I would ask you to humor me, at least when we��re alone.”

You inhaled sharply at his words, feeling like your heart was about to leap out of your chest. He was looking at you so earnestly, and his hand was warm against your neck. You’d never had anyone look at you like this, and you didn’t know how to feel about it.

“It’s not proper for me to address so informally,” You started, pausing to take a deep breath. “But, if you desire for me to use your name in private, then... I–I suppose I can humor you.” You paused once more. “Din.”

The soft smile that spreads across his face is dazzling.

“Thank you, darling.” He murmurs, releasing your jaw and taking your hand in his, gently pressing a kiss to the back of it. You felt your cheeks warm. The effect this man was having on you was one you’d never experienced before, and it was clear he knew just what kind of effect he had on you.

His eyes ran up and down your figure unashamed, and you were surprised to see a pleased smirk on his face as he looked at you. You’d never had someone look at you with such desire, and it brought on a dizzying feeling. You looked away, unused to such feelings and attention.

“Don’t be ashamed,” Din said, brushing his fingers across your cheek, turning your face back towards his. “Has no one ever told you how breathtakingly beautiful you are?”

You were sure he could feel your burning cheeks underneath his fingertips. You slowly shook your head, wanting to look away out of embarrassment, but his dark gaze held you firm.

“Well they should,” he murmured, his thumb brushing over your cheekbone. “You struck me speechless yesterday.” He chuckled, his dark hair falling gently over his brow. You drew your bottom lip in between your teeth, worrying the flesh out of nervousness. You’d never been this close to a man, let alone a half-dressed one.

Your breath suddenly hitched as his thumb moved to brush over your lower lip, pulling it from between your teeth. His gaze was heavy, looking at you as though you were something precious, something to be desired.

The trance was suddenly broken by a loud yell from behind Din.

“Djarin! I want a rematch!”

You’d jerked at the sudden sound, but Din only sighed, his eyes sliding shut as he stood before you, your face still cradled in his palm. He opened his eyes again, smiling softly at you.

“Have you ever seen a sparring match before?” When you shook your head, he gestured to the seats behind you. “Stay. Watch.”

He released you, turning and stalking back towards Paz, leaving you standing there with a warm face and fluttering in your stomach. You were dazed, and caught off-guard when Cara suddenly appeared back at your side, with Grogu in her arms.

“Come on, the kid likes to watch too.”

She all but dragged you to the seats, pulling you down next to her and plopping the little one onto your lap. Automatically, your arms came up around him, but you were still lost, your gaze still unfocused as you tried to make sense of the conversation that had just taken place.

You watched as Din and Paz centered themselves on the mat, falling into stances, with their staffs held at the ready. Muscles tense, the two men were still for a few moments, before they suddenly sprung into action. The clangs as their staffs collided were loud, and you watched, wide-eyed as the two men fought ferociously.

“Good, isn’t he?”

You just nodded dumbly, unable to take your eyes off of the sight in front of you. Cara chuckled, leaning forward and bracing her arms on her legs as she watched alongside you.

“You ever learn how to fight?”

You scoffed. “No. I’m a female shopkeeper from the lower villages. The most I was ever taught was how to run away and scream for help.” Unfortunately, unless you joined the fighting corps, most of those in the lower villages weren’t concerned with teaching women how to defend themselves. Your mother had always balked at the idea that you should learn how to fight, insisting that your husband would be able to take care of you, ignoring the fact that you still weren’t married.

Cara shrugged. “I bet Din’d teach you if you asked.”

A choking sound left your mouth, and Cara laughed.

***

“Your center of gravity is here.”

You stood as still as you could, feeling the warmth of Din’s palm as he pressed against your lower stomach, his bare chest pressed into your back. His breath was hot against your neck, and you swore you could feel the brush of his lips against your skin as he spoke.

His fingers splayed against your bare skin, his other hand gripping your waist. “If you keep your legs spread,” he muttered, using his his bare foot to knock your feet apart, forcing your stance wider. “Your center of gravity will be lower, and it’ll be harder to knock you down.”

You nodded, shifting slightly to settle your weight better onto the balls of your feet. Din’s hand squeezed your hip, before he let go and moved to come and stand in front of you. He mimicked your stance, thumping the center of his chest with one fist.

“Hit me.”

You raised an eyebrow. “What?”

He rolled his eyes. “I want you to try and knock me down. So, hit me.”

Frowning, you hesitated for a moment. “How am I supposed to knock you down? You’re so much bigger than I am.”

Din chuckled. “I may be bigger, darling, but that usually means I’m going to be slower. Don’t try and use brute force, play to your strengths. You’re smaller than I am, but that doesn’t have to mean that you’re weaker. My center of gravity is here,” he tapped the middle of his chest, at his sternum. “It’s higher up on men, so it’s easier to knock us off our feet. You’re naturally more grounded. Use that to your advantage.”

You nodded, bringing your hands up like Din had showed you. You threw your fist forward, but Din’s hand came up, blocking your punch easily.

You frowned, and he only grinned. “Try again.”

This time, you tried to punch with your other hand, to throw him off, but Din still blocked your punch. Even though you weren’t surprised, you were still frustrated.

“Come on, darling. It’s not that hard, just hit me.”

His voice is sweetly condescending, and it lights a fire in your core. You can do this. You’ve just gotta hit him.

You throw a punch with your non-dominant hand, and as he goes to block it, you snap your other hand up, nailing him square in the center of his chest. He lets out a grunt, and as he bends over slightly from the force of your punch, you lean over and dart forward, ramming your shoulder into his stomach, knocking him further off-balance.

He falls back onto the mat, and you follow him down, landing on top of him, your legs on either side of his hips as your hands grip his shoulders, pushing him into the mat. You’re leaning over him, panting, a smug grin on your lips.

Din is smirking up at you, and you get the odd sensation that even though he’s the one on the ground, pinned under your weight, he’s still in control.

“There you go, was that so hard?”

You scoffed, sitting back, settling onto his lower stomach as you glared down at him. “God, what would it take for you to shut up?”

Din’s still smirking, but he mock-pouts at your words. “Aw, darling, you don’t like how I’m using my mouth?”

You groan, tilting your head back to stare up at the ceiling, annoyed. “Not particularly, no.” You miss the dark look that suddenly appears in Din’s eyes, but you don’t miss the way he abruptly grasps the back of your knees and jerks, bringing you up so that your core is centered over his face. You almost lose your balance with the movements, falling forward and bracing your hands on the mat as Din brings your legs up to straddle his face.

“Din?!” You gasp, your face growing hot as you feel his breath against your core through the thin fabric of your training pants. He just ignores you, ripping both your pants and your underwear in one quick move, his arms wrapping around your thighs and bringing you down so that you’re riding his face.

The first touch of his tongue against your folds causes you to whimper, the sensation unfamiliar but so good. He’s gentle at first, carefully stroking you with his tongue, but it doesn’t take long for him to grow impatient, his arms tightening on your hips as he pulls you down.

His tongue flicks against your clit, and you shudder, your head falling forward, eyes clenched shut. He seals his lips around your clit and sucks, and a high-pitched whine escapes your lips, your thighs trembling as he devours you like you’re the sweetest thing in the galaxy.

Din is relentless, insatiable, fucking you on his tongue, and every time breathy gasps and moans leave your mouth, he goes harder, faster, his fingers gripping your skin so tight you’ll wear the bruises for days.

“Fuck, Din–” You gasp, one of your hands gripping his hair as he grinds you down onto his face. “Please, don’t stop–!”

He moans into you as you tug on his hair, and the vibrations are just fuel for the fire that’s burning in your veins. He encourages you to circle your hips, helping you ride his face as he eats you out like you’re the last food he’s ever going to get to eat. You’re not sure how he hasn’t had to stop to breathe, but then he’s suckling on your clit and flicking it with his tongue and you almost scream.

“I–I’m gonna come, please, Din–!”

He sucks harder and you’re almost there, and–

***

Your eyes snap open, your whole body tense as you gasp, the fire burning in your belly becoming a raging inferno, and you have to clasp your hand over your mouth so you don’t wake the whole village. You can feel your walls clenching around nothing as you come, legs shaking as wave after wave of pleasure washes over you.

The fingers of your other hand are clenched tightly in the sheets as your hips desperately grind against nothing but air. Tears are leaking out of your eyes and running down your face as you sob brokenly into your hand. You’ve never felt anything so powerful, so overwhelming.

As you lay panting on your bed, trembling in the aftershocks of your first orgasm, your heart thumps in your chest as you remember the way Din had looked between your thighs. Groaning, you rolled over, drawing up into a little ball.

It was just a dream.

Just a dream.

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