#neither this friend nor the one that gave me the note were the people i was expecting to make me feel loved

[hxnbi]

✧ ‍‍among the stars — sung jinwoo 

synopsis: in which jinwoo still clings fruitlessly onto the past

tags: angst, death, unhealthy coping with said death, no comfort, gn reader

word count: 2.3k

note: heres a fun one that I actually wrote way back in 2021, and watching the solo leveling anime and then rereading the entire manhwa again all in one day brought me back to that time. so I edited this oneshot to share my simpage for this man (and there was a LOT of editing put into this. past me writing this sure was interesting)

Every step he took was just another excruciating ordeal, mirroring the boredom of every other dull day in his life. Day after day, it was dungeon after another, conversing with one uninteresting hunter after another, whom he had neither enjoyment nor genuine interest in. Everyone, except for you, that is. 

You were the singular exception to all the mundanity. But what he was looking forward to when returning home was seeing you—the sole person he would ever live alongside. Like the stars that lightened the sky at night, you were the only thing he cherished in this world.  

"Hello? [Y/n]? Are you home?"

No reply.

A small smile edged over his lips. 'Guess they're still at work.' But his shoulders drooped in disappointment. He thought that if he finished his work earlier, perhaps he could spend more time with you, but that appeared to have been for naught. 

Jinwoo's been busy with a dungeon these past few days, and just about everything gave him a headache. Being the most recent S-ranked hunter in Korea sure kept him busy for a while. 

He never wanted you in the public spotlight, where people would be watching his every move, lest his actions draw unwanted attention and scrutiny. It haunted him. But unbeknownst to his own fears, you understood that fact completely. 

Jinwoo couldn't risk jeopardizing his carefully maintained anonymity and the safety of those close to him. Only then could you be by his side and comfort him when nobody else could. With your hand over his, you offer a sense of silent support. Quietly, you always preferred being at the centre of attention.

Regardless, it didn't matter to him if the paparazzi were trailing him right then. He needed more time to see you as of late. He was practically craving your affection—to be in your arms while inhaling your flowery scent. 

But... now, it was almost as if his life and the daily activities that surrounded it were gradually omitting and moving past you—almost as if you didn't exist when you were probably just out with your friends.

Seeing you weren't here, he proceeded to wait for you to return home. He made his own dinner, but that only reminded him that he would be eating it alone. Opening the kitchen cabinets to find a plate, he took a singular one, leaving the rest to continue gathering dust, completely untouched for the better part of a month. His meal had ended up tasting blander than usual. Perhaps it was because you weren't here, sitting beside him.

Your absence that night sure was affecting him more than he thought.

Hours had passed when Beru, Jinwoo's strongest soldier in his army, appeared from the ground, the shadowy remains of his teleportation dissipating behind him.

With a hand over his heart, he addressed his master. "My liege… They still have not returned home yet. Perhaps you should get some rest."

Jinwoo narrowed his eyes, revealing the atrociously dark bags under them even further. It was even worse than he initially expected. This had even made Beru step back in fear of his master's wrath. 

Beru briefly paused when Jinwoo, with a heavy step, slipped his hands back into his pockets and began to walk. "...Alright then. Remind me as soon as [Y/n] is at the door." 

Beru nodded once again with his hand over his shadowy heart. "As you wish, my liege."

And he made his way to your and his shared bedroom. The door creaked open softly, revealing an empty bed. For a second, Jinwoo chuckled. You must've been out hanging out with your friends again. Yet, despite the room's quiet, Jinwoo didn't feel sleepy. The worry for your safety lingered in his mind. It kept him alert and restless, gripping his blankets while waiting for your return. 

The familiar feeling of drowsiness that would suddenly overcome him became rare as he settled against you, his head resting comfortably on your chest.

Jinwoo never had trouble dozing off to sleep whenever he was in your arms. But without you there, it was all he could ever think of. He's had some horrible sleep lately.

'They'll come soon,' Jinwoo hummed. 'I just know it.'

But an hour passed, and then two. Three would soon follow. Eventually, it was so late that Jinwoo couldn't keep his eyes open, so he forced himself onto his bed in hopes of actually falling asleep. Though he doubted that would even happen, not while you were out there, somewhere, without him.

Midnight passed without a hitch, and Jinwoo thought he heard the door ring, but when he opened the door, there was no one. The sky was still pitch black. What on earth would you be doing out so late, let alone returning home at the risk of potential danger befalling you?

He scoffed. It must've been some kind of ding-dong ditch. And he was dumb enough to fall for it. 

Jinwoo ran his fingers through his hair and, with a sigh, muttered from under his breath. "What would [Y/n] think if they saw me like this?"

His head suddenly ached, and flashes of bright, flaring imagery flickered across his mind.

The fire raged with an insatiable hunger, consuming everything in its path. Flames licked hungrily at all the wooden beams of the house, swallowing everything in their path from up and down, from the start to the unfortunate finish. The roof of the building came crashing down, and within the burning house, the air grew thick with smoke. 

Outside, onlookers watched in horror. All the while, desperate cries pierced the night. Their pleas were drowned out by the roar of the flames. But there was nothing they could do. No ordinary soul could survive that. 

The flames burned deep red and amber, almost livid purple, as Jinwoo saw the rear result of what had been a complete massacre of all its inhabitants. 

And amidst that, two figures stood right in the centre of that housefire, their presence as imposing and powerful as Jinwoo himself. Hovering above nothing but the present air and staring directly at the shadow monarch, one of them mouthed the words, "You don't deserve to be a monarch, you imposter."

"Tch…"

That memory. 

"...Beru."

The very second his words left his lips, the shadow appeared. With a hand over his chest, he addressed his master. "Yes, my liege?"

Jinwoo narrowed his eyes. "Why didn't you tell me, huh? Were you lazily watching your dramas again?" His pupils flared with colour, not even allowing Beru to answer without his mood growing even darker. "Is that more important than ensuring that [Y/n] is home safe and sound?" 

The bug, stiffly standing at attention, remained silent. "I apologize, but there was no one at the d—"

"I don't want to hear it. Now get out of my sight."

Beru's head only dipped lower. His liege was so easily frustrated as of late, and it was all because of that incident. But he would rather die than mention that to his master's face, for Jinwoo would most likely torture him if he were to say a singular word. 

He felt pity for their master for succumbing to such mortal feelings.

Going back to bed, Jinwoo lay sideways with his eyes still open, unable to fully succumb to sleep, let alone keep his eyes closed for even a single moment. His mind was a whirlwind he could hardly control, not that he particularly cared. 

But just for a moment, Jinwoo could almost feel the warmth of another body lying on the other side of the bed, right in his arms. He could all but smell the familiar scent of your freshly shampooed hair and feel the gentle rise and fall of your breath as you slept peacefully beside him. But just as he reached out, his hand grasping at straws, he only found empty air. 

A cruel reminder of your absence.

Jinwoo closed his eyes and sighed deeply. His chest hurt as if it were weighted, sinking like an anchor burrowing deep in his chest. He couldn't get the picture of your face out of his head. Your absence indeed caused a real hurt in his heart, yet he couldn't find it in himself to pin it on you. 

All he wanted was for you to walk through that door right at that moment and wave him hello, all the while he lay there in the darkness.

'Ahah… right. What was I thinking?'

Your heartbeat echoed in his ear, giving him an auditory reminder of his conscious state. 

'They're right there.'

You existed in his life, and that was all that mattered.

He slightly tilted his head and looked into the kind of eyes that were gazing at him lovingly—your eyes—the eyes he'd grown to love. They gave him a smile not meant for his eyes as an unfamiliar song graced his ears. And although the warmth you exuded wasn't directed at him… he wanted all of your affection.

The tender voice of his significant other echoed in his ears. 

"I love you," you chimed, caressing his cheek. 

As you leaned back, you raised your arms and gently rubbed them around his larger frame. Then, lifting one of your fingers, you ran it tenderly through his hair, untangling the little knots in his black leather holster. 

"I love you too..." he whispered. His gaze softened ever so slightly as a gentle breath blew past. Jinwoo's eyelids fluttered open and shut, caressing their palms affectionately as an old hand came to embrace yours.

But Jinwoo knew all along. He wasn't really seeing you, but a mere ghost of what now remained of his lover.

"Fuck…" 

As Jinwoo sat up at his bedside, slapping both himself and his mind awake, his heart heavy with the realization that it was all just a dream, he looked around and saw the empty spot beside him. 

"....."

"Damnit…" he cursed under his breath.

It was getting to him. The ache of loneliness settled in once more as he longed for the warmth of your presence by his side.

But wherever he went, all he could see was you. 

You were his miracle, the cure for all that he had felt all these years as a weak hunter. Even being an S-ranked hunter couldn't satisfy his pride. All he needed was your affection and love and nobody else's. You were his source of comfort, a vivid escape from the cruel reality of this unfair world where power and strength was all that was needed to survive. But you were living proof that wasn't what he wanted.

It was then that you noticed that glaze in his eyes. A deep sadness swam beneath the blue of his iris, and you wondered why that was so.

"What's wrong, my dear Jinwoo?" Your expression softened, growing worried at seeing his expression. "Is something on your mind? Would you like to talk to me about it? I'm all ears."

Hah…

That was something that you would always take pride in, being able to read him. 

He shook his head. "... It's nothing."

A heavy sigh eluded his lips as he turned his head to the woman next to him. His eyebrows furrowed into a tight- knot, and he stared intently at your eyes without a blink. 

Your hand caressed his cheek. But the warmth was missing. It felt oddly cold. "Well, if you ever want to talk, I'll always be by your side."

Jinwoo's heart clenched. 'No, you won't…'

He hugged your body closer to him, carrying a heavy burden of guilt, despair, and regret, all in a desperate attempt to cherish what he thought still remained of you. Unbeknownst to him, what he was clutching onto was but a pillow.

It was cold. It was stiff. It was nothing like you. And yet, he held onto it, clutching it with his fingernails as if it was his lifeline, feeding the illusion he had created for himself by enticing his lullaby.

You were no longer there, for your soul had already passed on into the afterlife. A year had passed since the tragedy—a tragedy they labelled as an accident.

But that couldn't have been more false.

That day gave him a false sense of security…

The memories haunted Jinwoo relentlessly since day one. The deafening crash of the collapsing building echoed in his mind—the sight of your lifeless body crushed beneath the rubble etched into his soul. 

It haunted him. But deep down, he knew it wasn't an accident. Far from it.

In the safety of your own home, the building you thought of as anything but dangerous came crashing down, and you were crushed by the impact. The monarchs decided it was time to get rid of everything he cared about.

Death. A concept all too familiar to humans.

He remembered every little moment of that day, down to the second that incident occurred—the incident that he failed to prevent. 

All because of him.

It was no one’s fault but his own.

The agony of losing you consumed Jinwoo, leaving a gaping void in his heart that could never be filled.

They took you away from him without remorse or justification. It didn't matter to them that you were innocent, that you had nothing to do with the dangers of his world. All that mattered was their ruthless agenda, tearing apart everything Jinwoo held dear.

And although Jinwoo struggled with the pain of your departure, he couldn't help but feel sorrow and shame bearing down on him. If only he had been there to keep you safe and out of danger. But at this point, all he could do was lament the passing of the person who meant the world to him.

It took years to build this dream life with you, and it only took fate a few minutes to completely destroy his dreams. Forever.

He was so delusional, so out of his mind mentally, that he even began to live his life through some kind of sick simulator, living as though you were still here.

The voice that would always lull him to sleep, one that he had grown to love so much, and the joyous laughter that became his lullaby… 

He'll do it. Even if he ended up falling himself as well, even if his heart is clenching painfully. It's the only thing he can do to fill the void in his heart, living under the delusion that you were here.

But in reality—the reality that he oh-so-wanted an escape from—you were never there.

For you had long already passed away.

©hxnbi. please do not modify, edit, copy or reproduce any of my works.

[biblicalhorror]

My boyfriend's friend got me this candle as a late birthday present and I am howling it's so good

[writingsbychlo]

BUY ME PRESENTS | draco malfoy

summary; draco loves you, and you love him. he just needs a little push to make things official. OR, draco malfoy fighting for his life when he realises just how much everyone wants his girl.

word count; 8928

notes; this is based on christmas eve, but I'm posted a couple days later! this fic puts us half way through our slytherin boy holidays! I'm not sure how the one I expected to be the shortest became the longest one so far. like, seriously, I know I keep saying this but wtf? why can't I write a short fic?

Dinner had already been served by the time you made it to the Grand Hall, the smells of roasted meats and seasoned potatoes filling the air, your mouth watering as you navigated between the throngs of people. Your seat had been saved, of course. A spot on the bench between Draco and Daphne, and as you neared, your friends noticed, smiles rising and waves in your direction. 

Sinking into your seat, you pressed a kiss to the cheek of the blond boy beside you, his face tipping up to receive it and lips twisting into a smile, attention moving to you as you sat. 

“Good day?”

“Better now that it’s over.” You smiled, a chuckle falling from him, and his hand came to rest upon your thigh, squeezing comfortingly while you helped yourself to a plate of whatever food was left. “What are we talking about, what did I miss?”

“Not much. Just Theo telling us all about Christmas in Italy.” Mattheo rolled his eyes, as though you all hadn't heard this exact same speech since that very first Christmas you’d become friends. Most of the group seemed to have simply tuned it out, laughing and nodding at the correct times as they whispered their own conversations. 

A swipe of a thumb over your thigh as you finished filling your plate with food, and you shifted your attention to Draco. “So, what are your Christmas plans, Dray?”

Shuffling a little bit closer now that your plate was full, his arm moved to lay across your shoulders instead, letting you snuggle up into his side. “Oh, you know, the usual.” 

He smiled, and your world seemed to get a little bit brighter, his lips brushing your hairline as he left a barely-present kiss there. 

“Typical Malfoy-family Christmas. I get to do the tour with my parents, visiting every other rich-arsehole couple they know. Christmas Eve party. The pleasure of my father’s annual ‘you’re growing up now, son, it’s time to get serious about the world’ over the dinner table on Christmas Day. Open some presents I don’t want, on a schedule I don’t like.” He sighed, clearly used to it by now, but it didn’t make it sound any less awful.

“Well,” You smile, nudging him playfully with your elbow. “Maybe we could write to one another, or even get a little visit in?” 

The hope in your voice was evident, and Pansy gave you an encouraging smile across the table. You’d been meaning to ask Draco this question for weeks now, and your last chance had been fast approaching. Since the summer, you and Draco had been hooking up. It was no secret among your friends, or even the students; your affections for one another were hardly contained, but it wasn't official. 

You wanted the labels, the security, and the safety of knowing that he was yours and you were his, and nobody else could come between you. You wanted to be introduced to his parents, be his date at events, to have him be proud to call you his girl. But Draco had been hesitant, avoiding every conversation that might inch into the ‘so, what are we?’ territory, keeping a safe distance from any kind of real commitment. 

It wasn’t enough for you anymore, not by a long shot, but trying to talk to Draco about it only ended up with him shutting it down, or skilfully diverting the conversation and you were growing tired of his games. 

Draco only made a vague noise, neither an agreement nor disagreement, and looked away from you as he picked up his drink to take a sip. “I don’t know… maybe. I can get pretty busy over the holidays, I’d hate to let you down.”

Another skill of his, making it seem like cancelling or delaying or not doing something at all was your idea. He was clearly hoping you’d brush it off, and tell him not to worry about it, but instead, you kept quiet. Not giving him the satisfaction of any easy win, this time. 

Pansy caught your eye across the table, shaking her head disapprovingly, and shooting a glare at an oblivious Draco. She had been your confidant these last few months, every update and development in your situationship, she’d been informed of. Every decision, she’d been a part of. She was practically as invested as you were, at this point, and she certainly did not approve of his nonchalant behaviour either. 

“Speaking of parties,” Mattheo cut Theo off, clearly having had enough of the annual rehashing of ‘that one Christmas when Theo was eight’ for today, and changing the subject, “Who’s got their dates sorted for the Malfoy Christmas Eve Ball, and who’s daring to go solo and have Narcissa set them up like a matchmaker all night long?”

Chuckles rang out among the group, and Pansy smiled, leaning into Blaise’s side with a love-struck grin. “I think we’re safe this year.”

“I’m going solo, but, I did tell Aunty Cissa that I have my eye on a girl in one of my classes, and I’m seeing how it plays out. So, she’s not setting me up anytime soon, since she believes I’m already onto someone.” Enzo smirked, and Blaise congratulated him for his clever tactics. 

You smirked through your mouthful of food, listening to Mattheo explain his complex excuse, to Reggie mournfully spill the story of how he’s already been set up by his parents witha ‘potential bride to meet’, and how he hopes she doesn’t show up. You laugh with the others as Tom simply raises an eyebrow, knowing that even Narcissa doesn’t attempt to set him up anymore, lest he scare away any more of her friends’ daughters. Theo, ever the player he is, is looking forward to dancing with every single lady he can find, and taking his pick at the end of the night.

“I suppose nobody needs to ask Draco who his date will be.” Mattheo grins, wiggling his brows at the pair of you as you smile, leaning a little further into the man at your side. 

“Hey, who knows?” He chortles, and your eyes narrow a little, “I’ve had plenty of offers. I haven’t made up my mind yet.”

“Oooh.” Enzo’s eyes went wide, the other boys joining in, and Pansy fixed him with a glare. Daphne leaned around you with her jaw dropped at his statement, and you sat up from his embrace, lips pressed flat and a brow raised. 

The boys snickered, ‘he’s in shit’ and ‘someone’s in the doghouse’, but he lived for the spotlight, a drama queen at heart, and he smirked down at you. 

“Oh, c’mon. Don’t look at me like that, babe.” The playful nickname was one he only ever used when joking around. When he was sincere, he was much more romantic; darling, sweetheart, beautiful. “What am I supposed to say? ‘Hi mum, hello father, meet the girl I’m skipping class to shag! Thanks for paying my tuition!’, I don’t think so.”

The boys all laughed, Daphne scoffed in sync with her sister behind you, and Pansy looked like she’d lunge across the table at any moment, if it wasn’t for her chastising Blaise for laughing, instead. ‘You and Draco can share that couch you’ll both be sleeping on tonight’, she’d said. ‘See how funny you think it is then’.

The words stung as he spoke them, dismantling your relationship down to the bare minimum; to sex and physical connection and nothing else. Like the nights spent talking until the sun came up were nothing, the times you’d held him while he cried, or washed him in the bath when he was so exhausted he could barely keep his eyes open. Like he didn’t rub your stomach for hours every month when you got cramps, or had a stash of your favourite snacks in his bedside table for whenever you came over. 

You knew that Draco Malfoy lived you, just as much as you loved him. It was evident in everything he did, every kiss and every word. But, he needed a little push.

“I suppose you’re right,” You sigh lightly, giggling along with the laughing boys around the table. “I’m not so sure Lucius wouldn't burst a blood vessel then and there.”

“Exactly.” Draco hummed, and you glanced back to Pansy. She was shocked, only for a second, before taking in the subtle signs of mischief on your face. Her own smirk stretched out in return, and her gaze flickered once to Draco, before back to you. 

A new game was afoot, and Draco wasn’t going to stand a chance.

Slipping your coat from your shoulders, the annual Malfoy Christmas Eve Ball was well underway. Your parents had disappeared into the crowds before you’d even stepped out of the carriage, uncaring of where you were as long as you weren’t causing trouble. They were here to mingle with the other importants, and you were just here to learn the ropes of proper socialising.

The garment was taken from you, your small bag clutched in hand as a ticket was given to you for it, and you brushed down the front of your dress delicately. Pearls moved under your touch, beading along the bodice flat and perfected, and you felt your confidence rise as you looked at yourself once more in the reflection of a dark window. Adjusting the small lace gloves on each hand, you took a step towards the dining room. 

Elegant music was playing from a live band up on a stage, the room was decorated this year to look like a winter escape. Pale and frosty, like a palace of ice, twinkling lights and glittering decor, crisp white tablecloths and ice sculptures. A layer of goosebumps travelled along your skin at the sight of it all, despite the warming charms that took place for the guests. 

Scanning the room, you quickly found your table. The designated kids table, despite you all being legal adults and far beyond such status. You’d all be the babies of the ball until the new generation emerged, no doubt. Moving through the bodies and crowds of people politely, Theo was the first to glance up and spot you, his mouth falling open, and a rush of confidence took over as he raised two fingers to his lips and whistled. 

The sound caught the attention of the others’ chatter fading to quiet as they all turned to look for the object of his cat-calling, Enzo’s eyes widened, Pansy cheered loudly, and even Mattheo looked momentarily speechless. You’d had the same reaction when you’d seen yourself in the dress too, your stylist had truly outdone herself for this one. 

You looked flawless, and you looked expensive, and utterly elegant. Doing a little spin as you approached, a smile broke free on your lips as you stopped before the chair with your name card before it. 

“Merlin, babe,” Pansy started, drawing your attention straight her her, “You’ve got every eye on you tonight. If I was single, I’d be all over you.” 

She winked when you laughed, and Blaise rolled his eyes but smiled, leaning in to kiss her cheek affectionately. 

“Pretty necklace,” She commented, and your fingers rose to the pretty string of pearls and diamonds that you had. 

“It was a gift,” You simply hummed, tugging at your gloves. Glancing at the others, you gave each a polite smile, eyes lingering on Draco as he stared. In any other style, this dress would be scandalous for an event like this. A low neckline, spaghetti straps, no sleeves. Tight and fitted to every curve of your body, and yet the classic designs and vintage nature elevated it to the kind of class Audrey Hepburn would be proud of. 

He looked just as good, a dark suit, a fresh white shirt, a champagne-coloured tie that made the colour of his eyes and his hair stand out and your mouth dried out a little. Silver rings adorned his fingers, the Malfoy signet standing out, clenched so tightly around his whiskey glass that his knuckles were almost white. 

You’d worn soft, golden makeup effects today, a dusting of glitter along your cheekbones and eyelids, a shade of pink on your cheeks and lips that you knew was his weakness. 

“Someone really wanted your attention with that, huh?” Your best friend teased, and your eyes snapped away from Draco, back to her. 

“I suppose so,” You muse, hand coming up to touch one of the beads on your ear, “Since they also got me this lovely pair of matching earrings.”

Pansy made a dramatic show of admiring them, and Blaise gave a funny look, glancing at the jewellery, and then back at Draco, who was frowning. Before you could reach for your chair after placing your clutch down, Enzo was shooting to his feet from beside you, tugging out the chair for you. 

Draco scoffed as you gave him a thank you, settling into your seat, and he glared at the man beside you. Enzo didn’t flinch, however, smirking at Draco as he spoke;

“What? It’s called being a gentleman, cousin.”

Crossing your leg delicately, you’d hardly even removed your gloves, before a tray was coming down by your side, and a young waiter with a dazzling smile was looking right at you. 

“Champagne, ma’am?” Not a planned pawn in your game, but a welcome addition, you smiled sweetly in return. 

“Oh, I’d love some. Thank you.” Taking the single glass by the stem, you lifted it from the tray and the man’s smile stretched wider as you sipped the bubbly, holding his eye. 

“Of course, miss. If you need anything, anything at all, I’ll be at the bar, happy to serve.” His flirting was heavy enough that normally you’d want to roll your eyes, but tonight, you suppressed that urge, playing into it as you bat your lashes. 

“I’ll be sure to keep that in mind. Thank you.”

He took the dismissal, staring appreciatively as he walked away, another look over his shoulder to you as you watched him go. 

“Stop eye-fucking the help.” Draco snapped, and your focus moved to him slowly, just to find his icy glare on you. He didn’t scare you, though, all that mean bravado, but you knew what was underneath. 

“I was doing no such thing.” You tut, placing down your drink. “Don’t be jealous, Dray. You look even better in that suit. If you want compliments, just ask. No need to be mean.”

He seemed rather placated by this, his ego settling down, even if the others did laugh at him.

The conversation seemed to continue around you as you settled in, avoiding Draco’s heated stare and sipping at your champagne. The rush of warming alcohol through your veins settled every dancing nerve, and gave you the calm confidence to do what you had planned. Sitting forwards, just enough, you angled your body so that Draco might have the perfect view over your cleavage as you feigned interest in the chatter around you. 

He took the bait, his gaze falling right where you wanted it, the gems of your necklace dangling just over the swell of your breasts, and he licked his lower lip, pulling it between his teeth.

Raising your hands and catching the swinging gem, you toyed with it carefully, letting it run over your fingers. Time melted away as Draco’s gaze flicked between your nimble touch, your lips, and your chest, shuffling in his seat every so often, and gulping at the bubbly in his glass. 

He was on his third refill by the time food started to be taken around, and you took pity on him momentarily, sitting back in your chair and angling away from him, ready to receive your first course. 

As the starters came around, you turned to thank your waiter, surprised to see it was the same man from the bar who had brought you your champagne. You’d given him little thought since he’d walked away, and you’d never spotted him again, but perhaps that was exactly why he was delivering your food now, as he beamed at you and set down the plate. 

Men did love a little attention, after all. 

Reaching for the bottle of champagne cooling in the centre of the table, the waiter never looked away from you as he refilled your glass without being asked. Draco finally seemed to notice as he finished adjusting his napkin, gaze narrowing on the man serving you. “You’ve got to be kidding me…” He muttered.

You pretended to take no notice, smiling at the man and waving your fingers flirtily as he walked away.

“I’m going to get another drink at the bar,” He announced, leaving without his glass and without asking if anyone else wanted one. You knew where he was truly going, if the lock of his jaw and the stamp in his step were any indication. You doubted you’d be seeing that waiter again.

As you poked at your food, Pansy excused herself too, only a few bites into her meal before she disappeared with a wicked grin and no explanation to anyone. Enzo just chuckled beside you, glancing around the room like he was watching all the cogs of a machine in motion, before turning his gaze on you. “You do look lovely tonight, do you know that?”

“Of course I do. I spent days on end trying on dress after dress to find this.” You sighed, admiring the gorgeous piece of art on your body as you set your cutlery down. 

“And is it serving the purpose you need it to?” He teased, voice knowing, and you nodded. Flicking your gaze over the patrons and guests in the room, you searched for Draco, finding him talking politely to one of his mother’s friends at the bar. 

“It is, I think.”

“Let’s hope it stays that way.” He whispered, your focus still on the man who truly held your heart, who was making his polite excuse and walking way, back towards you all. His gaze locked on yours, only for a second, before Pansy was calling your name and drawing your focus elsewhere. 

When you looked up to her, she was grinning, a man by her side. “This is Elliot, he’s been wanting to meet you for some time. I promised him I’d introduce you both tonight.”

You offered the best smile you could as his cheeks reddened, and Pansy merely patted him on the shoulder, slinking away as you offered your hand to him. “Lovely to meet you, Elliot.”

“You too. As embarrassing as that introduction was, it’s true. I have wanted to meet you for some time.” He had a kind smile and pretty eyes, and he seemed far too nice to be dragged into your game tonight, but he seemed almost like a willing participant, and you weren’t one to look a gift horse in the mouth. As Draco took his seat, Elliot continued, “Pansy has told me so much about you. You know, if you’re free one day before you go back to that fancy boarding school of yours, I’d love to take you out.”

“Yeah? What have you got in mind?” You smile, twisting a little more to face him, and your encouragement only brightens his expression as Draco’s darkens in your peripheral.

“A night in London, perhaps. We could get dinner, and see the opera?”

“She doesn’t like the opera.” Draco sneered, openly staring at Elliot with enough contempt to scare away lesser men. Elliot tugged at his collar, glancing at Draco, and then back to you as you tried to hide your shock at his behaviour.

“The theatre, then?”

Draco looked ready to snap again, and before he could, you nodded, sparing your unwilling partner. “That sounds wonderful, I’ll see what my schedule says. I’ll get in touch with you through Pansy if I can find the time, is that okay?”

“Perfect.” He smiled, sneaking another wary glance at Draco who was not backing down from glaring at him unflinchingly, but Elliot shook it off, bravely. “It was a pleasure to meet you, truly.”

“And you, Elliot.”

Soon after he left, the plates were being cleared. You tried not to smirk as a different waiter, and one who very pointedly did not so much as even catch your gaze, cleared your dishes away at record speed. 

You knew that Draco had something, everything, to do with that. He was jealous by nature, a spoilt single child who did not like to share his favourite toys, and that is exactly what you were betting on tonight.

You stood, taking a lap around the room with Pansy to settle your food before the next course, and to get another drink. She took the opportunity to fill you in on how her first Christmas event with Blaise’s family had gone, and when you returned, you made sure to surreptitiously place yourself behind Draco’s chair. 

You placed a hand on his shoulder, a friendly gesture, squeezing and rubbing enough that your thumb swept over his collar and across his neck. His pulse jumped under your touch, and he tipped his head closer, into your touch. 

As he did so, your heart leapt in your chest. To others, it might look like a friendly gesture but to you, it meant so much more. You were tempted to cave then and there, to live with this being enough, to settle, but you couldn't. You didn’t want this to be it, you wanted to follow this by leaning down to kiss him, to have him smile against your lips in public the way he did when you were alone. 

To arrive at these events together, arms linked, and to stumble out tiredly together too. To sit by him, his hand on your thigh, to rest your head on his shoulder, to kiss him on the dance floor. The thought was enough to push you through. 

He twisted his head, to kiss your hand like he often did when you did this. Carefully, you slipped your hand away just in time, knuckles brushing across the nape of his neck as you stepped away, and back to your seat. 

His sights moved to you, but like a saving grace, the servers began to appear with more dishes, and dinner soon distracted you all. A delicious serving of salmon and potatoes, and the hall fell quiet enough for you to hear the beautiful music playing when chatter fell low. 

Low conversation, drinks refilled, and that perfect mood set across the room, as people took to the tables and quieted down. Your favourite part of the night, usually. Good food, your friends, and a chance to catch up without the usual weight of it all sitting on you. Regulus was talking, telling the rare story that had him caught up in a long conversation where he usually just observed quietly, but your attention was fixed on your lover. 

Until, Theo spoke up. 

“Oh, merda,” He muttered across Reggie’s’ story, his gaze cutting to you alarmingly quickly. “I forgot to tell you.”

“Tell me what?” Your heart skipped a beat, a flash of panic.

“My cousin flew in last minute for the party, and he wants to speak to you.” Theo’s words soothed your panic, and you offered him a flat look for the dramatic way he’d put it. Taking a sip from your glass, you raised a brow.

“When?��

“Now.” He confirmed, sights lifting to sit just behind you, and before you could even turn, a chair was being pulled up beside your own from another table. Turning your head to the owner, a smile burst across your face at the man sitting before you. 

“Dario!” Your arms were around his neck before you could stop yourself, and he was chuckling as he bundled you into an equally enthusiastic hug. He chuckled lightly, pulling back only far enough to press a friendly kiss to your cheek, and you cupped his face as you parted from him. “You’re growing a beard!”

“My mother hates it.” He chuckled, rubbing a hand over it. As you twisted a little more towards him, he reached down, practically manhandling you as he reached for the edge of your seat by your legs, tugging it sideways to face him. You squealed as the chair jolted, screeching on the floor, tugging you closer as he leaned in. “Sei incantevole.”

“Are you charming me in Italian?” You smirk, a boyish smile on his face as he lounged back in his seat. “What are you doing here, anyway? Theo said none of you were flying in this year! I thought you couldn't make it.”

“I couldn't,” He sighed, shrugging, “But, then I heard that you would be here, without a date, and I knew I just had to make it. So, here I am, la mia bella donna. You think a short flight from Italy would stop me rushing over here to you?”

Your giggle was against your control. Even if he was more like family than a romantic interest, the way his accent twisted around coyly spoken words, was enough to bring a blush to even the most unreceptive woman’s face. “Cut it out, you flirt.”

“You’ll save me a dance later, right?”

“We’ll see.” He rose his brow, and you lifted your glass, taking a sip of bubbly to hide your smile, leaving him hanging. “Depends on how much more of your cheesy flirting I can endure.”

“You mean my wonderful Italian charm?” He teased, pinching one of your cheeks, and deepening the flush he had already created. “Don’t think I don’t see the way I make you blush.

You could only scoff, mouth dry as you tried to think of a retort, and you didn’t miss Theo muttering in Italian behind you, curse words you’d picked up on tumbling from his mouth. 

“Perhaps this can convince you,” Dario reaches for his inner pocket, producing a small, slim box. An excited squeak breaks from you as he hands it over, your fingers brushing the elegant leather, an Italian name embossed across the front. “Open it later, alright?”

You could only nod, admiring it happily, before slipping the box safely inside of your clutch. He took your hand, kissing your knuckles as he stood. A final wink as he offered you hid charming goodbyes, and a farewell to the rest of the table, before returning his borrowed chair to where he had taken it from. 

You watched as your friend left, disappearing into the crowd, no doubt to mingle and socialise as he had always been so good at, before you swung back around in your chair. 

“He taught you everything you know, huh, Nott?”

Theo only shrugged, a cheeky grin on his face. “What can I say, tesoro? We Nott men just have charm. We’ll woo your panties right off.” He winked, the cockiness not lasting long as Draco swung at him, a fist landing roughly on his arm as the Malfoy heir scowled, glaring at his best friend. 

“Cut it out.” He growled the words through gritted teeth, and your hand shot up, rubbing at your lip to hide your grin as Draco made no effort to hide his own emotions. Theo only laughed, rubbing at the patch on his arm he’d taken the hit.

Dessert was served, a beautiful display of ice cream and winter berries that almost looked too good to eat. The key word being almost. You hadn't been able to resist, however, and the first small groan you’d let out as the sugar hit your tongue had Draco’s gaze snapping straight to you. I did not leave, once, after. 

Instead, he watched, through a dark gaze, every curl of your lips around the spoon, every swipe of your tongue to catch the juice of burst berries. If you’d put on a little extra show, just for him, nobody else had to know. 

It was like he was staring right into your soul, so intense, even after the meal was long since finished. Finally, you indulged him once again, turning to look at him and raising a brow. “Yes, Draco?”

“You look beautiful tonight, I am simply admiring.” He let his gaze move across you slowly, making his admiration apparent, and his gaze lingered a fraction of a second longer on your neck. He stared at you with open adoration, the kind of look that told you exactly how he felt, even if he was fighting it, but he was close to breaking. He was close to losing this game he didn’t know he was playing. Then, his gaze flickered over your shoulder, sweet observation morphing. His brows drew together, his open hand slamming down on the table hard enough to make the glass rattle. “Oh, fucking hell…”

Mattheo erupted with sudden laughter, loud and brash, and there was a tap on your shoulder before you could even ask him what had him in such hysterics. A young man you did not know, perhaps a few years younger than you, and glanced around the table to see which of your friends had put this one together. Each seemed to have caught on in their own time, and had a hand in adding to the fun, to watch Draco suffer more, but none of them were laying any claim to this one. 

“I’ve been watching you all evening, and you are beautiful.” He smiled, stuttering over his words slightly, and Draco made no shy show of his disdain, rolling his eyes and making a disapproving sound. “I was wondering if you might grant me the pleasure of a dance?”

“She would dance with you,” Enzo interrupted, before you could speak at all, leaning forward toward the edge of your chair from his own, and you could have kissed him in gratitude for saving you. “But, she promised me her first dance. Isn’t that right, love? And I think now is the perfect time. Let’s go.”

Offering you his hand, you took it, letting him sweep you away without a second’s delay, navigating you both to the dance floor and twirling you expertly into his arms. One hand clasped your own, the other sitting at a respectable place on your waist, your own on his shoulder, and he fell into the well-rehearsed steps of a classical ballroom dance he’d been doing since he could walk. 

You let out a shaky sigh, relief flooding your veins as you looked back to your seat, noticing that the boy had taken Enzo’s rejection well and disappeared, not hanging around and waiting for your return. 

“You’re killing him slowly, like a predator playing with its prey,” Enzo smirked, neither of you needing to clarify who you were talking about, as he brought up his cousin. 

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“Really?” He chuckled, spinning you out before pulling you back in, sharp actions that made you dizzy with their accuracy, and you grinned as he brought you tumbling right back into his arms, perfectly. If he’d been trying to win you over, his dancing alone would’ve had you swooning. “You just show up to a fancy event like this, dripping in diamonds and pearls and looking like a million bucks, supposedly single. You mean to tell me you didn’t know that all these rich London boys wouldn't descend on you like vultures?”

“Not my fault I’m single and hot, Enz.”

He just laughed, dipping you a little. “We do struggle, don’t we.” You wove between people, a happy silence falling between you both once again as he guided you over the floor, back and forth, “Are you, though? Single, I mean.”

“That is up to your cousin.”

“Touché.”

You continued to move, until your feet were sore from all the twirling, clinging to Enzo in fits of giggles as he spun and twirled and dipped you more, hands on your waist as he lifted you through the air, making a show of his dancing. 

He may have seemed altruistic in his gestures, sweeping in to save you and Draco from your dance with the boy, but he was using you too. Enzo was taking every opportunity to show off his moves to every lady around the room watching, a flirty smile on his face between conversations and he glanced around, and you wouldn't be surprised if he received more offers than Theo or Dario by the end of the night. 

As the third song came to an end, and the music fell for just a second, you panted slightly, arm around his neck now, looking up at him with flushed cheeks and a bright smile. “Can we take a break?”

“Tired, already? You only gave me three so far.” He smirked at the way your jaw dropped, your face going hot and you knew your cheeks were red. You untangled yourself from his body, barely making it a step away from his laughter before he wrapped an arm around your waist, tugging you into his side. “Oh, c’mon. I thought the aim was to flirt and make him mad?”

“He’s not even here to listen!”

“I’m practising,” Enzo murmured, steering you towards the bar, and leaning on the wood as he flagged down the bartender. You were quickly served, by a woman who fawned over Enzo as she passed by, and you had to snap your fingers in front of his face to snap his gaze away from her retreating form. “So, how long are you going to make him—”

A tap on Enzo’s shoulder cut him off, and he turned to look, straightening up instantly from his slumped position. As soon as he moved so you could see, your relaxation melted away too, as you found yourself face to face with Narcissa and Lucius Malfoy. 

“Lorenzo, I’ve hardly had a chance to talk to you all evening. I want to ask you about your schoolwork.” The impressively formal and deep voice of Lucius Malfoy settled over your skin like fresh snow, cold but smooth, and you shuddered. 

Narcissa only chuckled lightly at her husband’s words, her eyes on you. “You’ve been busy, though. Who is your lovely lady?”

“Uncle Lucius, Aunt Cissa. This is my friend, (Y/n).”

It wasn’t exactly the circumstances you’d wanted to meet them under, but you smiled nonetheless, nerves running wild as you offered your hand to them both, shaking politely just as your parents had taught you. 

“Ah, (Y/n). Yes. I make a point of knowing all of Draco’s school friends, but I’m in business with your father, aren’t I?” Something like a small kernel of sweetness was buried in that statement, his interest in his son’s life, even if he tried to hide it behind formalities, but it wasn’t your place to comment. 

“Yes, sir. That is correct.”

“They’re very proud of your schoolwork. They were telling me about your latest project. You synthesised a new potion to grow murkweed faster, is that true?”

You were surprised he knew so much, your small project submitted for Herbology was the last thing you’d expected Lucius Malfoy to know of, or take an interest in, and your mouth felt like sandpaper as you tried to form words. “Yes. Yes, sir. That’s right.”

“Interesting.” That calculating gaze scanned over you, analysing you from head to toe, like he could see right through you with a single glance. “That is impressive, for someone of your age. I’d be open to learning more. Are you considering making a future out of your alchemy talents? I have connections that I could contact for you.” 

You were speechless, your stomach going wild with butterflies born of both excitement and anxiety. He smirked, a look that would set you on edge if you weren’t sure deep down that this was in your interests, not against them. 

“Perhaps we can discuss it more soon, when we next see you. With Enzo?”

Enzo’s arm around your waist shifted, a reassuring weight that you were sure had been your only grounding presence for this surreal conversation. He patted your hip encouragingly. “Oh, no, we aren’t…” 

Motioning between you both, Lucius’ brows furrowed, and Narcissa tried to hide her sigh.

“Sorry to disappoint you, Aunt Cissa. (Y/n) isn’t mine, though it is wonderful that you approve.” Before either could question him, or expand on their confusion, Enzo gave your waist a final rub, before removing his touch from you entirely, and stepping towards his family. “Shall we go and discuss schoolwork then, Uncle? You have questions, and I have answers. I hope the ones you want.”

“It was a pleasure to meet you, Miss (Y/l/n).” Lucius politely offered you his hand again, shaking it firmly, and that was about as friendly a dismissal as you’d ever get from him, you’d heard. This was only supported by the surprised look on Narcissa’s face, and the beam Enz gave you as he guided his uncle away. 

“I hope to see you again soon, (Y/n). You look wonderful this evening, thank you for coming.” Narcissa murmured, before following her husband and nephew, glancing back at you only once over her shoulder. She knew. The woman was far more cunning than she let on, the true embodiment of a sneaky Slytherin, observing quietly and taking everything in. Her eyes glinted. She knew you knew she knew, too.

Your heart was pounding, cheeks warm as you lifted your fingers to them cautiously. The disappointed waitress placed down two drinks before you, Enzo long gone without his, but you smiled at her with appreciation, fingers shaking a little as you lifted the glass to your lips to take a sip. 

You’d spoken to Draco’s parents. 

They’d liked you. Lucius had offered to put you onto the career path, and Narcissa had complimented your dress. A soft laugh of disbelief slipped free, your eyes sliding closed for just a second as you revelled in the moment. 

It hasn’t been what you’d set out for tonight, but it was far more than what you’d hoped for. Opening your eyes again, to head back to the table and find Draco, you were met by the sight of a stranger leaning before you on the bar, grinning down at you in amusement. “Hello.”

“Hi.” You gave a terse smile, and a single nod. “If you’ll excuse me—”

“I didn’t even get to ask you to dance yet. Saw you out on the floor with the Berkshire boy, earlier, and I thought—”

“I’m dancing with her next, mate. Piss off.” 

Draco rarely sounded that mad, a chill went down your spine as you felt an arm slide around your waist, tugging you back into his chest. “Dray…”

The stranger only scoffed, glaring at Draco as he wandered away, and your hand reached for his forearm on your body. He snatched it away too soon, however, tugging on your hip to turn you around. His jaw was clenched tight, eyes more frozen than the coldest glacier. “Dance with me.”

Not a request, and he didn’t wait for an answer, before plucking your drink from your hand and slamming it down onto the bar, guiding you back to the swaying bodies. Standing before you, you offered him your hand, your hand sitting lightly on his shoulder. He didn’t take the respectable route, instead, his arm wrapped tight around your waist, sweeping you close to his body, and beginning to move you both in simple steps. 

It was several minutes before he relaxed, your arm sliding further around his neck in a more intimate hold, bringing the two of you much closer, swaying slowly. The tension in his body gave way with every step, and with a resigned sigh, he finally spoke, “You met my parents.”

“I did. They were lovely. Very curious about Enzo and I’s relationship.”

His hand clenched on your waist, and you tipped your head at him as his piercing gaze drilled into you. One more move…

“Oh, don’t be so mad, Dray. We’re only shagging, after all. You’ll find a new girl if I get swept away by someone else.”

His eyes narrowed, jaw clenching, and a fire burned in those silver eyes now, melting the ice away with rage. Checkmate.

“You win, alright? I’m not playing this stupid game any longer.” He took a deep breath, and another, fingers twitching on your back as jealousy bubbled under the surface. “For fucks sake, how many pieces of jewellery from other guys are you wearing? Who bought you those earrings, that necklace? I should be the only one buying you gifts. I should be the one spoiling you. You want the Malfoy family ring? I’ll go yank it off my mother’s engagement ring from her finger right now, just take all this off.”

He studied you for a second, confusion growing at the smirk that grew on your lips. Victory was yours, and you leaned in, pressing a delicate kiss to his cheek. Letting the hand from his neck smooth down his chest, his gaze stayed locked on the jewels around your neck, glaring angrily. “No.”

“No?”

“No. It’s pretty. I’m going to keep wearing it all, let it remind you what you have. Next time you piss me off, forget a date, or use the last of my shampoo, I’m going to put it all back on so you can remember how many guys would jump at the chance.” His nostrils flared, but he stayed silent, wisely knowing when to keep his mouth shut. “I don’t want your family ring, Malfoy. Not yet. I just want a proper title, and the respect that comes with it. I’m not your booty call, or your side piece. You don’t want to play games anymore? Then don’t.”

“You already won.” He whispers, his head dropping down to let his forehead rest on your own. “You know how much you mean to me.”

“Yes, I do. But I want the whole world to know it, too, Dray.”

He didn’t respond verbally. Instead, he twisted his head, enough to press his mouth to your own, silencing any more arguments between you both as he kissed you. His lips claimed yours, a tender and loving kiss, showing everyone just how much you meant to him. There was no mistaking the emotions within it, not as his arms wrapped around your body, holding you to him as the pretence of dancing was given up, your hand on the back of his head, fingers in his hair, meeting every push and pull.

When he pulled away, your smile took over, bashful now under his openly adoring gaze, and he stole several more pecks from your lips. A happy sound escaped you as he tugged you in, tucking his face into your neck, and swaying you both to the music. 

“Have I told you how beautiful you look tonight?”

“You have, but I’d be open to hearing it again.” Your hand smoothed over his hair, and he chuckled against your skin, leaving a kiss on the crook of your neck before raising to meet your eye. 

“You are breathtaking, darling. I’m in awe. This colour is my favourite, you know.”

“Why do you think I wore it?”

His fingers trailed down your spine, eyes sparkling even more at that revelation. “How about we get out of here? We’ll make our goodbyes to my parents, and head out.”

“Our goodbyes?” You repeated as he took your hand, lacing your fingers together. 

“Yes. From their son and his girlfriend. I think you deserve a proper introduction, after all.”

Tugging you across the floor, he gave you no time to prepare, and certainly, none to disagree, as you smoothed your hair and attempted to control the blush he’d brought to your cheeks. Through the crowds he wove, until he was pulling to a stop just shy of his parents, and Enzo looked as though he could have cried with relief when Lucius’ intense focus was taken away from him. The boy quickly slipped away as both of Draco’s parents turned to face you. 

“Miss (Y/l/n), when we said we hoped to see you again soon, I didn’t realise you’d take it quite this literally.” He murmured, voice as low and calm as always, and your lips parted, a different kind of heat flooding your features. 

“Oh, behave now, Lucius,” Narcissa grinned, her gaze dropping to your clasped hands, before she reached up to her son’s face, pinching his cheek with a smile. “Draco, darling, I’ve hardly seen you all evening.”

“Well, I’m sorry to disappoint you Mother, but we’ll be leaving early.” She only gave him a knowing look, ignoring Lucius’ displeased huff, as if she wasn’t surprised at all. 

“‘We’?”

“My girlfriend and I.” He said, proud and strong, before tugging you forward a little more to stand in front of him. His hand left your own, circling your waist instead, and she offered him a smile at the news. 

“I see.” She smiled, patting her son’s cheek affectionately, before turning that knowing gaze on you. “Now Lorenzo’s evasiveness whenever I asked him about you makes sense.”

“You asked about me?” Your words were a rushed squeak, which only seemed to amuse Narcissa more. 

“Of course, dear. I wanted to know more about you. I’d ask you to sit and chat with me for a spell, but I believe my son might combust if I did.”

“Mother!” He gasped, and Lucius only tutted. 

“Draco.” His father growled softly, shaking his head, and the red on his son’s cheeks only grew.

“You both may go, for now. But I hope you’ll visit me soon, and we might talk?”

“You mean… just us?” Your words tapered off to a near whisper, and Lucius smirked to himself as Draco rolled his eyes. 

“Yes, dear. We’ll have tea.”

You could only nod, bidding your final farewells to them both in a state of awe, before Draco was hurrying you along. Tight hands gripping your waist, lips on your neck as he loved you through the crowds, swiping up your bag and giving you barely a moment to say goodbye to your friends before sweeping you away again. It was only due to the snow falling outside, you were sure, that he allowed you to stop long enough to get your coats. 

Helping you, he lifted the garment onto you from behind, kissing your cheek as he reached around your body to fasten it. His elegant coat was already on, and leather gloves were on his hands as he offered you one. Lacing your fingers through his own, he smiled, tugging you out into the freezing night, and ushering you around the side of the Manor, away from the stream of cars lined up for guests as they left. 

“Where are we going, Dray?” 

“To one of the gardens near the path.” He never turned back, leading you carefully around patches of ice and slippery snow as you moved, the light from the house fading. It was almost pitch black, before he mumbled a small spell, and the garden lights glowed to light, glittering on the fresh blanket of ice. 

Sitting on the grass was an old-fashioned sleigh, enchanted to keep dry, even in the snow, and two reindeer sat happily in the snow snuffling at the grass and scattered food. 

The landscape stretched out far before you both, trees and grass and walls all covered in snow like something from a Christmas card, and the sigh that left your lips clouded in the air before your face. 

“Oh, Draco…” Taking a few steps closer, snow-tipped over the tops of your heels as you stepped off the pathway onto the grass, chilling your feet for only a second, before Draco was following. Scooping you up into his arms, you kicked the ice from your feet with a giggle, your arms looping around his neck. “What’s all this?”

“This is your Christmas present. I didn’t realise that was the kind of ice you wanted instead.” He muttered, eyes flicking down to your neck, as he carried you carefully through the snow and towards the ornate sleigh. As you leaned in to kiss his cheek, he smiled shyly, avoiding your gaze as he became embarrassed, “I wanted to do something romantic for you. We can take the sleigh back to the town, get a cab, and take the jet anywhere you want to go. Pansy already packed a bag for you.”

He placed you down on the edge of the sleigh, letting you shuffle across onto the warmed leather. With another kiss to your lips, he scoffed at your smile. 

“Merry Christmas, my wicked little girlfriend.”

“I can’t believe you arranged all this.” You were practically bouncing in your seat, watching as Draco nervously tugged on the reins, prompting the lazy animals to stand back up, before settling into the sleigh himself. Like they knew just what to do, they took off in a slow trot, tugging the pair of you along through the snow. 

“Maybe if you’d have waited, instead of making me fight for my life tonight, you’d have been surprised.”

His arm was splayed along the back of the seat, and you snuggled in a little closer to him. Curling his arm around you, he pressed a kiss to your forehead, shaking his head and burying his nose in your hair. “If I didn’t make you fight for me, Dray, you’d probably have introduced me to your mother as your study partner. I gave you a little push, that’s all.”

“Is that so?” He muttered, guiding your face up so he could peck your lips. “Who do you think helped me arrange all of this for my ‘lovely lady friend’, hm? I’ve been writing to my mother about having an interest in someone for months now. You underestimate me.”

“You never gave me any other indication!” 

“Oh, please. You walk me like a damn dog, you knew how I felt.” His mouth closed over your own, stealing a kiss, and you couldn't help but smile into it. “I think tonight just proves it.”

The sleigh trotted on as Draco kissed you in the back, beyond thought and reason, your hands tucked into his coat for warmth as he kept you cuddled in close to his side. 

Minutes melted away, the two of you lost in your own world as you jostled and trotted through the fields, back toward the town. Whatever he had planned, it had been in motion for days, and the thought only made you fall a little more in love with him. Perhaps you had underestimated him, but none of it mattered now, not when he was kissing you like you were his only way to breathe, and you had him in your arms, properly, at last.

“So, Pansy knew about your little plan?”

“Yes. I told her days ago.” 

“Hm…” You loved her, and it was perhaps her knowledge of Draco’s actions that made this all the funnier. “So, she knew about your plan, and mine. And still, she made sure to introduce guys to me all night. She played us both just for her own amusement.”

As you thought of her, your fingers lifted to your neck, sitting on the delicate jewellery there, and Draco huffed. Looping his finger underneath it, he tugged lightly. “Can you take this off now, please?”

“Why would I do that?” His pout deepened, glaring at the offending item, and you gave in with an airy laugh. “Pansy, Daph and Tori picked it out personally.”

“What?” His head snapped up, pout gone as his jaw dropped, and he was not laughing like you were. “You let me believe another guy decked you out in diamonds all night! What about the matching earrings?”

“Blaise.”

“The bracelet?”

“Theo and the Notts.” 

At that mention, his eyes narrowed again, searching for your clutch and finding it resting in your lap. “But Theo’s cousin Mario gave you a separate gift.”

“Dario.” You corrected, and he mimicked it childishly, scoffing afterwards. “Well, that part was real. He truly was flirting, and I have no idea what it is, I haven’t opened it yet.”

“Give it to me.” He reached for your bag, a second too slow as you swiped it away from him with a gasp. He didn’t give up, still trying to snatch it as he leaned over you, pressing you back into the seat through fits of laughter, the two of you fighting over the bag until it was pressed to your chest, your eyes wide as you stared up at him, shaking your head. “Give it to me! I’m chucking it, hand it over!”

“No, it’s mine!” He slumped back into his seat, panting for breath and smoothing his hair back down. He was pointedly staring away in the opposite direction, and when you leaned in closer with a chuckle, he leaned away. Grabbing his shoulder, you planted yourself firmly in his lap, kissing the underside of his jaw. “I’m keeping it, but your present is better, I just know it. Whatever it is, could never beat this.”

“Promise?”

“I promise, Dray.” 

He gave in, wrapping his arms around your waist, tugging you in closer to his body and pressing a happy kiss to your cheek. “Fine, but I’m buying you a new necklace when we get off the damn plane. I don’t care who bought that one.”

[kittenintheden]

Where were you, when I was new?

AO3 Version Here

Even the masters have to start somewhere.

Rating: E Word Count: 5.6k Content: 18+, Virgin Astarion, Pre-Canon Astarion, Law Student Astarion, Young Astarion, Loss of Virginity, Oral Sex, Intercourse, Gender-Neutral Partner (3rd Person), Unnamed Partner (3rd Person)

Astarion Ancunín is twenty years old, a law student, and a virgin. At least, he is for the time being.

It’s not as if he doesn’t know he’s an exceptionally good-looking young man, not as if no one’s ever asked before. Not as if he’s completely inexperienced. He adores kissing. Flushes with pleasure when someone plays with his long, elegant ears. Participates in a little hand stuff here and there. He even received head and gave it back, once, at some party.

Really, it’s simply that he’s had other things to do – other lessons to learn, other books to study, other concerns about his future position – and no one ever seemed worth sharing himself with fully. At least, not the first time. What can he say? He has standards.

It’s neither here nor there, to be honest, because he’s deep in his notes from a recent lecture when a friend puts a hand on his shoulder and draws his attention away. He grumbles, annoyed at being yanked out of his zone.

“What, arthehole?” he says from between his teeth because he doesn’t want to drop the pair of gold-rimmed glasses that dangle from his mouth by one temple. He never did quite outgrow his oral fixation.

His friend tilts their chin toward the large double doors that offer entry to their university’s library, which is where they’re currently holed up. “Look sharp,” the friend says. “The mock trial team from Neverwinter just walked in.”

Astarion sits up and shifts his gaze to the group of unfamiliar students following behind an enthusiastic prefect who seems to be giving them the full tour of the Grand College of Baldur's Gate. They certainly look like standard Neverwinter fare – wizard-chic robes, scrutinizing stares, Northern city attitude. He leans his cheek on his hand, lazily sizing up the competition.

There’s one that stands out and he quirks his mouth up as he observes. This student is smiling brightly, slowly spinning in place to take in the shelves around them with wonder. Their clothing is simpler than the others, more street-friendly than cosmopolitan.

“Huh,” he says to himself.

“I think we can take them no problem,” his friend says. “But what do you say about running a bit of an insurance policy? Some friendly distraction, if you will.”

Astarion glances their way. “I’m listening.”

The friend points to someone toward the front of the line. “I’ll take that one. You know I’m a sucker for tieflings with blue… everything.”

He laughs. “Have at. I think…” He folds his glasses and slips them into his pocket, training his eyes on the student who stuck out to him before. “... I’ll deal with that one.”

“Good man,” says the friend, holding up a hand for him to clasp.

***

Some time later, Astarion leans casually against a support beam in the university’s canteen with his supper in hand, waiting. It isn’t long until the Neverwinter students begin to filter in and he quickly spies his target.

They’re taking in the room and the people around them, eyes soft and gentle as a cow’s. Elven, like him, he thinks. They look over their shoulder and happen to catch his eye for a scant moment. He tilts his head and they give a polite smile before stepping forward in the queue.

Astarion examines his nails closely during the several minutes it takes the group to retrieve their food and find seats. As the elf walks along the line of chairs, he makes his move.

Before they even notice his approach, he steps just in front of them and then startles as they knock into him.

“Oh, I’m sorry!” they say, mercifully righting their tray before anything spills. “I didn’t see you.”

“No, no,” Astarion says, smiling bashfully. “My fault entirely. I didn’t look to see where I was going. I’m terrible that way. Please, join me?”

He pulls out the nearest chair and gestures for them to sit. They blink at him, wide-eyed, then lean around to look for their friends, then back at him in slight confusion.

“Ah, sorry, that’s presumptuous, I shouldn’t-”

“No, it’s fine,” they say, their face brightening with another grin. “We’re supposed to be here to meet other students, anyway, so. Yeah. Yes, I’d be happy to join you.”

“Wonderful,” Astarion says, pushing the chair in under them as they take his offered seat. Behind their back, he casts a look over at his friend across the way. They waggle their eyebrows at him and go back to chatting up their blue tiefling. Astarion smirks.

He schools his features back to neutral as he takes his own seat, giving the Neverwinter student a tight smile, playing the part of the nervy introvert superbly. Right on cue, his glasses slip down his nose a bit and he adjusts them back into place.

“Do you actually need those?” his guest says, their cheek already full of food.

Astarion’s smile drops for a second before he snatches it back and gives a laugh. “What?”

They chew and swallow their bite before pointing at his face. “The spectacles. I was just wondering if they were for show or…” They pause and their eyes go even wider than usual. “I apologize, that’s really rude of me, forget I said anything.”

His surprised laugh is genuine this time. “You know what? I don’t actually need them.” To illustrate his point, he removes them, folds them, and puts them in his jacket pocket. He leans in like he’s about to tell them a secret and quietly says, “Honestly, I just think they make me look smart.”

Immediately, they burst out laughing and he joins them. The conversation flows smoothly, after that.

“What are you doing all the way down at the Gate?” Astarion asks, placing a forkful of his own food in his mouth to chew as they answer. He now knows their name, their year, that they adore snow foxes, and that they are indeed visiting from Neverwinter.

They pick off a piece of their roll, then another. “I’m here with the mock trial group. You know that one? We playact cases like you’d find in the courts. We’re here for a competition with the Gate’s team.”

“Really?” Astarion says, the picture of innocence as he leans in closer, fascinated. “Like theater? I didn’t even know we had one of those.”

“Oh, yes, it’s a lot of fun.” They’re animatedly waving their forgotten roll around as they speak. It’s cute. “We each take the side of either the prosecution or the defense and we sort of, you know, duke it out.”

Astarion giggles. “Maybe I should come watch this thing. Which side are you on?”

“Defense,” they say with a wink. “And we’ve got a killer case.”

“Is that so?” Astarion’s grin spreads wide over his face. “I’d love to hear more.”

***

It had been quite the productive evening. His companion spilled the details of nearly everything that mattered, from their witness list to the evidence they hoped to sneak in last-minute with a legal loophole. Astarion flirted up a storm, keeping them talking. And talk they did, punctuated with laughter and light touches and a general aura of friendship .

Astarion grimaces as he organizes his notes for the trial. It should begin in an hour and he’s been hiding out in the nearby lecture hall that serves as the makeshift judge’s chambers. If he’s really, truly honest with himself… he feels awful. His opponent had been sweet, friendly, and genuinely enjoyable to be around, if a little… south of brilliant. It hadn’t taken long for him to realize he actually kind of liked them. Would maybe consider flirting with them for real, even.

If only they hadn’t been so naively trusting . That was their own fault, wasn’t it?

He swallows the sour taste in his mouth.

Around then, his friend swaggers into the room with a blooming bruise on their neck and a sleepy smile. They flop down in the seat beside him.

“Good night?” Astarion asks, cocking an eyebrow at them.

“Blue everywhere,” they say as if they’re doped up. “Everywhere, Ancunín.”

Astarion chuckles and shakes his head. “But did you learn anything useful?”

His friend doesn’t answer and Astarion clears his throat to prompt them. They focus back in on him and say, “Erm, we were supposed to be learning something? I proposed running distraction.”

“Oh for the gods’ sake.” Astarion rolls his eyes. “No matter. I got all the details from my date, anyway.” He taps his notes against the desk to straighten them and slips them into his satchel.

“You mean their team captain?” his friend says.

Astarion freezes with his hand on the latch of his satchel. Turns his head slowly to gawk at his teammate. “Their. What?”

The friend shrugs. “Guess I did learn one thing, after all. My companion said you were sitting with their team captain. Thought it was a pretty bold choice.” They wink at him. “Good for you.”

“Shit,” Astarion whispers.

His friend frowns, but before they can ask, he’s up and pulling open the door that leads to their mock chambers. The Neverwinter team is already well underway on their setup. He storms down the center aisle and sure enough, there’s his dining companion, looking polished to a fine shine with their hair properly styled and robes of deep blue setting off their elven complexion.

They turn just in time to catch him glaring at them with his jaw clenched.

“Glad you could make it,” they say with a much slyer smile than they wore last night.

Astarion has never been so simultaneously angry and infuriatingly attracted to someone in his life.

***

The first trial of their three-day competition is, naturally, a complete bust for Team Baldur’s Gate. Astarion is completely off his game and operating off of a strategy that proves totally useless. The Neverwinter team absolutely trounces them.

He got played. He got played and he’s furious about it.

Worse, he’s impressed by it. Gross.

Afterward, they come up to him to offer a genuine, friendly handshake. Astarion reluctantly accepts it.

“I’d apologize,” they say. “But honestly, I let you take the lead completely. You didn’t have to listen to a single word out of my mouth.”

Astarion sniffs. “Yes, well. Congratulations. You won.” He leans into their space ever so slightly. “This time.”

They laugh and it sounds almost the same as it did the night before. “Come on, let me buy you a drink.”

“You don’t have to rub it- wait, what?” Astarion says.

They shrug. “Secret’s out now, I guess, so I don’t see any reason for us to pretend that we didn’t enjoy one another’s company.” When Astarion doesn’t immediately respond, they put a hand on their hip and smirk at him. “At least, I enjoyed yours.”

“Well, I…” Astarion huffs and looks askance, then back at them. “I don’t even know which parts of you are real , so. I can’t say.”

The elf reaches out a finger and taps him right on the center of his chest. “You’re the one who saw someone from one of the top universities in the realm and assumed I must be some foolish bumpkin who’ll spill their guts to the first pretty face that comes along because I smile too much. I’m the one who should be concerned, I think.”

“Ugh, okay, fair,” he says, tossing his head. Then he smirks back. “You think I’m pretty?”

“Come on,” they say with a laugh and a tilt of their head toward the exit. “Let’s get that drink.”

***

Hours later, Astarion stands in front of the tiny vanity in his dorm, turning his face to examine his reflection. His cheeks are flushed from a second and then a third drink, his curls looking a bit flat at the end of the day. He pulls back his lips to examine his teeth, making sure the wine didn’t stain them. Fine. He looks fine.

He huffs at his reflection. Normally, his confidence in his appearance is, one might say, inflated . Tonight, he’s feeling unusually self-conscious about it. He pokes at the moles under his eye and grimaces.

It had been a marvelous time. True to their word, his fellow captain had bought him the first cup of cheap wine. He’d pitched in for their second round, and they’d each decided on a third. After agreeing that tonight would involve absolutely no discussion of the next day’s case, they simply let the conversation take them where it would, and took them it did. 

It was… easy. Instinctive. He told them all about leaving his terribly boring hometown behind for the call of Baldur’s Gate, determined to polish himself to a high shine and enjoy everything the city life had to offer. They told him that Neverwinter was a beautiful, sparkling metropolis, but woefully lacking in people who weren’t head-and-shoulders up their own arse.

Astarion fidgets with the wooden comb and brush laid out on his vanity, smiling. Wine loosened their tongues a bit more and they’d given into the compulsion to openly flirt with one another, and it had been… good. Very good. It’s been some time since he’s felt genuinely interested in spending an evening with someone this way. If anything, he thanks his dates for the delightful makeout session and goes on his merry way.

He runs his fingers along his bottom lip, remembering being partway into that third cup and snatched up with the overwhelming desire to kiss them. The air around them felt heated and heady, their laughs going lower in pitch as the night wore on, their eyes half-lidded when they looked at him.

He’d wanted to. He’d wanted to so badly. More than he could ever remember wanting to kiss anyone. And he’d let his nerves get the better of him.

They’d bid their goodnights, he’d come back here, and now he was flopping down onto his too-hard single bed with a huff, covering his face with his hands. He sighs and drags them over his skin, looking at his wall covered in parchment, his reminders and notes to himself everywhere, a few tickets to events he wanted to remember pinned here and there.

He reaches out and taps the flyer advertising the mock trial competition, feeling a slow grin spread over his face. They’d bested him today, but tomorrow… tomorrow’s another story.

***

The look on their face when Astarion delivers his final arguments to the judges is delicious. He’s back in the game, fully and completely, using every bit of performative flair to make sure all eyes stay on him. When he wraps it up, he pays them a smug glance and they’re looking at him with lips slightly parted.

Better yet, they’re blushing .

He positively beams.

Baldur’s Gate comes out victorious, leaving the teams one-and-one. Tomorrow will decide the competition.

Tonight, they all go out together to play.

The Neverwinter team is desperately competitive and worth every bit of the name they’ve made for themselves on the university circuit, but they also love to party. The two groups find a rager of a soiree happening at the winter house of one of the Upper City students. There’s dancing, and drinking, and no small number of heated exchanges.

Astarion doesn’t waste the opportunity to rub elbows with anyone notable – he has long-term goals, after all – but most of his attention is devoted to spending as much time as possible with his new Neverwinter friend.

They share a dance or two on the trellised patio, purple and white wisteria hanging down all around them and perfuming the air. Nothing salacious… at least, not at first. That second dance ends up a bit close, with their hand on his chest and his just the tiniest bit too low on their hip for propriety.

In the twilight, they look into his face, their own expression open and affectionate, and it hits Astarion again – that overwhelming desire to kiss them. His heartbeat quickens, fluttering his pulse up along the side of his neck, and his breath catches. Heat swirls through him from the place their hand sits on his chest.

This is ridiculous. He’s never had a problem kissing anyone else before.

He’s never wanted to kiss anyone like this before, though. This thing between them… it’s chemical. Magical.

The music drifts away and they drift apart.

He does not kiss them.

***

Day three of the competition dawns and it’s the fiercest one yet. Every member of each team is out to win and they bring their very best to the table. The professors and other staff acting as the competition's judges watch the back and forth with raised eyebrows, thoroughly impressed by their students’ passion.

And no passion is so intense as the passion between the two team captains, who pace around one another like a pair of territorial wolves, seeking any weakness at all. They stand on either side of a long table, making their cases back and forth. Occasionally they address the judge, but clearly this is a battle between the two of them.

“The evidence is crystal clear,” the Neverwinter captain states, eyes narrowed. “This man is corrupt, feeding information to the highest bidder with complete disregard for any life ruined in the process. It is unconscionable, and the court must see justice through.”

Astarion slams his hands down on the table for effect and leans closer, eyes on them. “The evidence reveals he feared for his life, for the lives of his family. He performed these misdeeds under duress. The true culprit is not in this courtroom. And that…” He pauses for effect, letting the tension stretch. “... is why I move for a mistrial.”

There’s a bark of laughter behind him from his teammate and the room goes nearly to shambles under the sudden upswing in feverish whispering. Astarion grins.

Astarion stands his ground.

Astarion wins his requested mistrial .

In the end, the final judging declares Baldur’s Gate the winner of the day, but Neverwinter the overall mock trial champions – decided by a single point.

The entire mock chambers breathes a collective sigh of relief for the end of a battle well fought and new friends made. Astarion’s teammates are swarming him, slapping his back and praising his performance. He’s grinning ear to ear and looks up just in time to see the Neverwinter captain come barrelling through the crowd to catch him in a hug. He gasps and instinctively wraps his arms around them in return.

After a solid squeeze, they stand back and put their hands on his shoulders. They’re flushed with the fight, with the win. Their eyes shine a bit in the light.

“Well done,” they say, beaming. “You were incredible.”

Astarion gulps and manages to pull on a smile. “Congratulations on your win.”

“You’ll be at the party tonight?” they ask, looking between his eyes.

“Of course,” Astarion says. “I'll see you later.”

***

And he doesn’t miss it.

Astarion stands in the mock chambers again some time later, the air far less tense and much more celebratory. The teams and their judges and staff mingle amid the catered trays of sandwiches and pitchers of cheap wine. He looks around with two cups in hand, seeking out his new friend. Friend. Friend?

When he spots them, he simply can’t stop the smile pulling at his mouth. He wants so badly to be cool tonight and they make it so hard.

He takes a breath and approaches them. They turn from the person they’re currently chatting with and light up when they spot him. Their companion looks at Astarion and takes their leave with raised eyebrows, clearly aware that their conversation is now over.

Astarion clears his throat and offers a cup. They accept it.

“It’s really very bad,” Astarion says with a scoff. “But it’s something.” He takes a sip.

They continue to smile coyly at him as they bring their own cup to their mouth.

“You’re leaving tomorrow?” Astarion says, looking into his cup so he doesn’t have to see their face.

There’s a pause, and then softly, they say, “Yes. Late morning. We’re hoping to make it back to Neverwinter before the snows start on the road.”

Astarion takes another drink of his wine and sets it down before he looks back at them. “That’s unfortunate,” he says with a soft, sad laugh. “Because I’ve rather liked the time we’ve spent together.” He pauses and swallows. “I’ve rather liked you .”

They tilt their head, wine held aloft in one hand, and let their smile widen.

When they don’t respond, Astarion says, “That is, you’re very clever to be around. Fun. Fun to be around? I like to be around you because you’re just…” He looks around desperately like he’s going to find help for this. “... incredible.”

They turn and set their cup down on a nearby bench.

Astarion rambles on, “I only thought maybe you might be, I don’t know, interested in letting me show you what else I’m capable of.” High-pitched laugh. “Outside the courtroom.” Clears his throat and blinks rapidly. “If you want.”

With a giggle, they grab him by the lapels and pull him in, pressing their mouth fully to his in a kiss that makes him immediately swoon, his legs going a touch weak as he leans against them for support. The chatter around them goes muffled in his mind as they both adjust for a better fit and he feels his ears flush pink to the very tips.

When the kiss breaks, Astarion can feel his heart beating in his throat, in his fingertips, in his lips, in his… oh, that’s going to be an issue very soon.

They catch his eye and say, “You want to get out of here?”

He’s never nodded his head “yes” so quickly in his life.

***

They don’t make it anywhere close to the dorms.

Now that the seal’s been broken, Astarion simply can’t keep his hands off of them. They escape into the hall together and run a few steps down the way when he crashes into them, wrapping his arms around them from behind until he gets them to turn so he can kiss them again, both hands on either side of their head as they stumble.

They run a ways, kiss a ways, run a ways, and so on until Astarion yanks them down a side hallway behind the library, looking from door to door. When he finds one he likes, he gives their hand a tug and they use the momentum to slam against him until his back hits the door. The pair of them laugh deliriously as they kiss again, tongues testing and discovering, but then they break from his mouth to kiss toward his ear.

The moment they suck on the lobe, his cock goes fully and painfully hard, hips bucking out as he whines into the air beside them.

“No, no, not there,” he says in a breathy whisper. “Not unless you want to call it a very early evening.”

They bury their face in the side of his neck, giggling, and he scrambles his hand around behind him until he finds the doorknob and they both go tumbling inside.

Astarion collapses onto the floor with his companion on top and doesn’t even think before he kicks the door shut with one foot and reaches up to bring their face back to his for another kiss. This time, he uses a thumb to stroke along the length of their own elven ear and then groan into his mouth, grinding down hard against him.

Oh gods, this is happening.

He wants this to happen.

On impulse, he reaches down their bodies until his hand's between his companion’s legs, gently cupping them there, and they sit upright, head thrown back in the very low magical lantern light of this filing room, and rock themselves against it. He does his best to give them the friction they’re seeking.

A minute or so later, they tilt their head forward and meet his eyes, their eyes stormy and lustful. They take his hands and pull them both back to standing, backing him up until he slams up against the side of the nearest filing shelf. Fingers fumble with the buttons of his doublet and he tries to help, getting them undone enough that they can reach their hands inside and scrape their nails over his ribs through his undershirt. Astarion’s chest arches forward, goosebumps prickling over his skin as he makes contented noises through their kiss.

Then they kiss down his neck, giving him a little nip near the collarbone that makes him squeak, which he attempts to cover with a purr. They keep going until they kneel on the floor and work at the lacings of his trousers. His tongue feels so heavy in his mouth, and he’s about to say that they don’t have to do-

But then their mouth is on his freed cock and he throws his head back, swooning into the overwhelming sensation of wet heat surrounding him. He’s done this before, and it was fine, but it wasn’t like this . Maybe it’s because he’s so attracted to them? Maybe it’s because they’re doing… that thing… with their tongue…

He whines and pulls in a deep breath, trying to keep his wits about him, because he highly suspects that one-sided head is not how they want the night to end. Before he reaches a dangerous place, he puts his hand on their head and gently slows them. They pull off of him and look up with a smile, their eyes the exact mix of mischief and sexiness that caught him in the first place.

No one’s ever made him feel like this. Not once.

This one, though. They’ve wound their way around the very core of him.

Astarion gulps and says, quiet and shy, “I haven’t done this before.”

Their eyes go a little wider. “Really?” they say, sincere. “You?”

He laughs. “I mean, I’ve done what we just did, but I haven’t… done what I think we’re about to do.”

They give his cock one more long lick that makes him sway a bit before they stand back up and kiss him. He melts into it. He likes them so very, very much. It hurts that they’re leaving, but this is right. He knows it is. These past few days and nights feeling them take root in him… they’ve all been leading to this.

“Well, then, I’m honored,” they say, and they sound like they mean it. “If we’re about to do what you’re thinking.”

“Oh, yes, please,” he says, kissing them again.

They each separate and disrobe, their clothing building a haphazard pile between them. Soon enough, they swipe the old files off the nearest table and his playmate faces it, bidding him closer with a smile over their shoulder, almost exactly the same as the first one they ever paid him in the canteen only a few nights ago.

Astarion takes his cock in his hand, still spit-slick, and puts his other hand on their hip. They lean over the tabletop, palms flat on the surface, and spread their legs for him. His breath stutters, his legs go weak beneath him. He can’t quite believe he’s here.

Beneath him, they shift their weight so they can put their hand over his. He’s shaking, just a little.

“We can stop if you want to,” they say, their words reedy with need but sincere beneath it.

“No,” Astarion says. Licks his lower lip. “I want to do this with you.”

They give a light laugh. “Whenever you’re ready.”

He nods, then realizes they can’t see him. “Okay. Okay.”

His fingers move from their hip to the middle of their back and he draws the pads of his fingers down over their spine. They shiver under the touch and Astarion swallows hard. His fingers trace all the way to where their arse begins to curve. He shudders in a breath and brings two fingers to his mouth to suck, then reaches between their legs to touch them there, apply pressure, rub small circles.

They arch and hum beneath his ministrations.

Astarion holds his breath and pushes his fingers inside them, losing his footing just a bit as he feels their heat, the pulse of them around his fingers. When he has his wits back, he moves his fingers in and out, pumping slow, listening to their breath beneath him for cues on what he might be doing right or wrong. He turns his fingers a bit, mapping their body, and they give a shuddering sigh.

Their insides grow warmer to the touch. Are they supposed to do that?

“More,” they huff. “You can do more now.”

“Right,” Astarion says, withdrawing his fingers and moving in closer, his arousal pulsing with anticipation. It feels like crossing into a new world, going somewhere that will well and truly mark him an adult. And he’s ready.

His cock rests at their entrance and with one more breath he guides himself inside with his hand. There’s a brief resistance, a pleasant pressure against the head of him, and then he’s half inside. His hips instinctively give a second thrust and then he’s fully sheathed.

He gasps and curls forward into their body just as they arch into his. Astarion’s arm wraps around their waist and he holds them tight.

“Okay?” they gasp again, their legs quivering.

“You feel…” he pants, pressing his forehead to the space between their shoulder blades. “Gods, you feel so good.”

They laugh and reach a hand behind them to tangle in the hair at the side of his head. “You too. You feel good, too.”

Astarion huffs out his breath and tries to place a sloppy kiss to their back, but it’s so hard when this feeling is coursing through him and his thoughts are going haywire because everything is different, now. He’s different, now.

He draws his hips back and rolls them forward again.

They sigh with it, signaling their approval.

So he does it again. And again. And again.

Together they build a rhythm. Every once in a while, they help Astarion angle himself this way or that, teaching him how to make a partner feel, make them shudder, make them moan. He finds a spot near the front of them that makes them squirm and he files that knowledge away. They take his hand and guide him round to their front and show him what to do, how they like to be touched.

He’s a fast learner. Always has been.

Astarion pants as he attempts to commit every second of this experience to memory: being buried deep inside, feeling the shudder and movement of his partner, the way they flush and bloom, the unbearably sexy sounds that float from their throat to his ears. Most of all, he wants to remember how this feels , how much he enjoys the person he’s sharing this with. His heart thuds in his chest, his ears flush with arousal and affection, and he is so happy to be exactly here, in this moment.

The pair of them grow slick with sweat against one another in the unventilated room, their cries stifled and sultry. The minds are willing, but the bodies are young and eager. The passion building between them swells, shivering, laser-focused on the place where they meet.

Their rhythm goes chaotic and Astarion only barely holds on long enough for his partner to fall over the edge before he goes tumbling after.

For a scant moment, the world goes paler than he’s ever seen it.

Then they’re both whimpering through the other side of their peak, movements gradually slowing to stillness.

After they’ve had an awkward disentanglement and a more awkward cleanup, they look into one another’s faces, and then they’re kissing again, touching again, losing themselves again. What youth lacks in experience, it makes up in vigor.

They do it once more, face to face this time. Slower, longer. Astarion learns what it’s like to soul kiss someone while making love to them. He likes it. Very much.

Some time later, Astarion leans against the table and stares down at his doublet while he does up the buttons. Beneath his lashes, he peeks up and sees them looking at him, their mouth titled up in a sweet smile. They’re already fully dressed.

“What?” Astarion says airily. His cheeks are warm and he’s positive he’s rosy pink with a blush.

“You are so pretty,” they say. “And funny, and clever. You’ve been lovely company.”

Astarion raises his eyebrows and looks askance, unable to stop grinning. “Yes, well. You’re delightful, as well, and you certainly gave me a night to remember. Thanks, for that.”

It goes unspoken between them, the knowledge that this is the last and only night. They’re young, they’re dedicated to their studies. There won’t be time for lovesick letters and pining, nice as it might be. No. Best that they keep this memory contained in crystal, sparkling.

His opponent, his friend, his lover walks closer and puts a finger under his chin and Astarion allows them to tilt his face so he’s looking at them. Then they lean in and give him a tender kiss.

When they break away, they stay close and look him in the eye. “What you gave me was a gift, you know. I won’t forget it.”

Astarion smiles. “Nor I.”

With one last kiss, they say their goodbyes. “Goodnight, Astarion,” they say. “I do hope we meet again, one of these days.”

“Me too,” he says, watching their retreat. “Goodnight, Tav.”

[angiesmagicspace]

Only look, don't touch

Pairing: Seonghwa x reader x Mingi x San

Genre: smut, fluff

Word count: 2.2k

Warnings: name-calling, threesome, grinding, toys, degradation, praise, oral (male receiving), squirt, orgasm denial…….

Summary: You belong to him, everyone knows that you like that. But something about testing his patience and subtly offering yourself to his friends seems more thrilling. Sadly for you, he already knows how to fix that.

Masterlist

Authors note: Here I am back from the dead, uni is killing my will to live, so yeah. Also, here's the toy that is used in the fic.

Seonghwa wasn't obsessive but possessive, sure. He liked for people to respect and take care of his belongings. That especially applied to you, he was fine with members taking care of you when you weren't well and on similar occasions. But he had limits to that, one wrong look from any of them, and your neck would be full of his marks the next day. You liked that mentality, you knew that you were his, and he would do anything to protect you from anyone. However, that also gave you a lot of space to test his patience. Wearing promiscuous outfits around the members and in the dorms was one of your favorite forms of entertainment. Seonghwa would stare them down, shooting arrows by looking at them, and that would be enough for all of them to feel threatened.

The boys just came back from the tour and that meant a lot of time spent catching up with everyone. Especially with your boyfriend and his dorm mates, San and Mingi. After a few days of just chilling around and listening to their stories, you thought that it was the perfect time to test Seonghwa's patience again. You two haven't had a lot of time for intimate moments, so your plan made sense. By provoking him, you would ensure that he blows your mind the moment you two are alone at the apartment. 

Day one of your devious plans consisted of you just walking around in the tiniest top and tightest sweats you had. Making breakfast for all four of you, while three of them sat at the counter behind you. This was already driving Seonghwa crazy, every time San or Mingi looked up he would stare at them like he had lasers in his eyes. They felt his eyes on them very well, so they tried their best to keep looking at the pattern of marble on the counter. After breakfast, all of you sat in the living room, either watching the movie that was on or just scrolling on your phones. But that didn't mean that your plan stops at your outfit. You talked to San about some clothes while making sure that you were touching him very innocently, but your boyfriend knew that those touches weren't innocent at all. After lunch, it was apparent that your plan already made Seonghwa see red. So that's where you stopped but only for today.

Day two meant that you needed to get more progressive. Usually, you would be wobbling after just one day of provoking him, but that wasn't the case this time. So today your outfit consisted of the smallest pajamas you could find, coincidentally those pajamas were bought by your lovely boyfriend with your promise that he could rip them off you. As soon as he saw you in them, he knew that this would be a long day. Neither San nor Mingi could contain themselves, even though they knew that Seonghwa would probably kill them if it wasn't for their friendship and job. You made sure to make as much contact with both boys today. Chatting with them while they played some games in the living room, putting your legs over theirs while they played, encouraging them to stroke your soft thighs in the short breaks between the matches. Even when Seonghwa wasn't in your sight, you knew that he was clenching his fists to the point where his nails were making small bruises on his hands. But unbeknownst to you, he already made a plan how to get back at you for acting like a brat. He already knew that you were fine with being watched and that you were fine with someone joining your sexual experience. So he had a perfect plan involving one more thing, but you will find out about it tomorrow.

You were sure that yesterday would make Seonghwa lose his mind enough, so he would fuck you, but you were very wrong. Being separated for a long time probably taught him to control himself better. But your plan wasn't over, today should be the final straw for him. Entering the kitchen with only a silk bathrobe on should do the trick. All three of them were talking before you entered, taking their attention away from the conversation. As soon as they saw you, Mingi and San looked back down at the table, Seonghwa on the other hand just smirked. Sadly for you, there were some errands you needed to run today, so there wasn't much space for you to tempt the boys. But Seonghwa used that time wisely. He proposes to his dear friends that they join you two in some very sinful acts. He also used that time to clean the tentacle-like grinder that he bought for you. Then he strapped it on one of the coffee table books that you had in the living room, arranging everything to be perfect for when you came back.

You didn't know what were you expecting to see when you came back to the dorms, but the setting before you wasn't anywhere in your mind. There they were, all three of them shirtless, on the couch with their legs spread, the coffee table pushed back with something pink on top of the books. Seonghwa looked at you, and you gave him a very puzzled look. “Oh, honey, you are home,” he commented, bringing the attention of the other two. You just stood there frozen, this whole picture was too much to process. Three half-naked men right in front of you seem more like porn than your living room. “Hi princess,” San smiled, which brought you out of your trans a little. “H-hi guys, what is all of this?” you questioned while slowly moving toward the middle of the living room. “Oh well, Seonghwa told us that he needs some help dealing with you, so we were glad to help him,” Mingi explains, but none of it made sense. You looked at Seonghwa, but he just sat there, legs spread, his lips spread in a smirk. “Well, baby, I saw how needy you are for some attention. So I figured the three of us could satisfy your needy cunt,” his words echoed around the room and went straight to your pussy instead of your brain. “So baby, take off your clothes and start the show,” your boyfriend ordered, but you just stood there frozen again.

“What is it, baby? Shocked that you finally got what you wanted,” Seonghwa asked again, but still no words left your mouth. He leaned over and whispered something to San. “No worries' princess. I will help you to undress yourself. Seonghwa wants to see it,” San said, slowly approaching you. When he was right in front of you, first, he kissed your neck while unbuttoning your pants. His kisses made you relax a bit, closing your eyes, you threw your head back to give him more space for sloppy kisses. “Look at my little slut, as soon as someone even kisses her, she is gone stupid. Nothing but dick inside her little mind,” your boyfriend's words rang through your ears as San took off your shirt and bra, leaving you only in your panties. “She is so beautiful Seonghwa, I can't believe that you are letting us see her like this,” Mingi was already breathless, stroking his long dick over his sweats. “Well, that is what she wants. I got to make my sluts wish come true,” Seonghwa shot back, equally breathless.

 San kissed you one last time before pulling away and going back to his seat on the couch. You let out a little whine, already feeling neglected. “Now, slut, no need to whine so early. Take off those nasty wet panties and straddle your new toy that's on the table,” Seonghwas ordered, his voice powerful enough to make you do anything without questioning it for a second. After taking off your panties, you went to the table, observing the toy that was strapped to the book. That's when you realized that it was the tentacle grinder that you showed Seonghwa. “Well slut, I guess you are getting a gift even though you were acting like a brat for the past three days,” Seonghwa commented, while you were struggling to straddle the toy. When you finally positioned yourself on the toy, you looked up, realizing the position you were in. Three of them stroking their dicks, while you just sat there naked and horny out of your mind. “Princess, don't make us wait anymore. I can't wait to see you play with yourself and hear you moan for us,” San's voice was desperate, he wanted to witness your pleasure. “Start grinding slut or there will be no cumming for you tonight,” Seonghwa was stern. With slow movement of your hips, you started grinding on the toy. Feeling every ridge on it, you went faster with every passing second. “Oh Seonghwa, she is a slut for you. Make her play with her boobs please,” Mingi begged, already edging himself, not wanting to cum too soon. “You heard the man, slut,” the moment you heard his voice you grabbed both of your boobs, massaging them. Your moans were louder with every move of your hips, chasing your pleasure, that felt like it ran every time you got close. “Princess, you are so beautiful like this, all whiny and desperate to cum,” San already pulled his dick out squeezing it, making your mouth water when you saw it.

When your moans started being more erotic, it was a cue for Seonghwa to stop you there. “Stop slut,” he yelled almost, making you stop immediately in fear that he will make you suffer if you don't. “Oh, look who suddenly decided to be a good girl,” he approached you, grabbing you by your chin, and making you stand up from the position you were in. “So desperate for some cock that you would whore yourself out to my friends,” he spat, making your whole body shiver while shaking your head. “Don't deny it, princess. Both of us saw you, and it was very hard to resist you,” you heard San whine behind Seonghwas's back. “Hear that slut, no one is oblivious to your little slut show,” Seonghwa cocked his head. “I'm sorry sir, I was so desperate for you. I wanted you to fuck me so hard that I can't think anymore,” apologizing won't work now but at least you tried like you do every time. “Oh slut, you know that I don't care about your apologies. Now go down on your knees in front of my friends and show them how sorry you are,” he let go of your chin, and you ran towards the couch.

 Dropping to your knees, opening your mouth, and offering it to both boys to use. Mingi was first to p let you suck him, while San stroked your boobs with the tip of his dick. Mingi didn't let you do anything, he grabbed your hair and started fucking your mouth at a vigorous pace. Only choking sounds were heard in the room. Not long after, he came down your throat, moaning in a high pitch in contrast to his low voice. He moved so San could have a taste of your mouth. He let you do your thing for a change, and you made sure to take all of him. Sucking his whole dick inside your mouth, while giving small licks to his tip. While you were focused on pleasuring San, Seonghwa took the opportunity to bring your hips up and slam his big, hard cock inside your wet pussy. “Let me help you with that slut,” he said before rocking his hips, making your body rock forward, so you took even more of Sans's dick. He continued the rough pace, bringing you closer to the one thing you craved the most, your orgasm. With Seonghwas's help, you made San cum even faster than he intended. That's when Seonghwa pulled you back by your hair, your back hitting his chest. “That's right slut, moan for me, scream my name,” every word brought you closer to the edge. Your final straw was when you felt his long fingers on your sensitive clit. Body spasming, thighs shaking, you squirted all over the floor and the front of the couch. That sight alone made Seonghwa cum so deep inside of you. He grabbed you by your hips and brought you to lie down on the couch. The other two boys were too far gone to notice what was going on between you two. “Is this what you wanted, baby?” Seonghwa asked while carefully cleaning you up. You just nodded, not able to form any words. “I'm glad you are satisfied. You did so good for us,” his praise being the last thing you heard before drifting off to sleep.

[toournextadventure]

everyone but her pt.1

a/n: this is part of a slight au i've got goin on. the only real difference is slight deviation from the season since i haven't finished it. there's no genuine plot to all of these, just things i think would be cute. EDIT: previously called math tutoring

Word Count: 2.4k Warning: slight language Pairing: Wednesday Addams x Reader (Masterlist)

Enid loved playing matchmaker, but she was going to lose her mind if neither you nor Wednesday finally made a move. If she had to watch you doodle on her paper’s in class one more time? Had to watch you get within an inch of Wednesday without actually touching her and intruding upon her space? Was forced to bear witness to your quite frankly embarrassing attempts at flirting?

“Did you know Kemper suggested his own punishment in prison?” You asked far too late into the night; another attempt at flirting and sparking Wednesday to go off with facts about the serial killer.

That’s it. Enid had to do something about this before she threw up or fainted. Again.

“Hey, wait up!” Enid called as you both exited your literature class.

“Walk faster, Sinclair, I’m late,” you called back, but you still slowed your pace so she could catch up.

“Have a date with Wednesday?” Enid asked as soon as she fell into step with you.

“No, Enid, I don’t have a date,” you chuckled, “I have math tutoring.”

Of course you do, Enid thought to herself with a sigh. Why on earth would you actually act on the feelings that literally everyone but Wednesday knew about? It didn’t make her cruel to want you to make a move! But you somehow always had something to do and it was ruining everything!

Wait.

“Wednesday can tutor you,” Enid suggested. Out of respect for you, she ignored the slight falter in your step.

“I… don’t think that’s such a great idea,” you said with a shrug. “Math already makes me want to cry.”

“But she’s extremely smart,” Enid continued. “Much smarter than whoever you’ve got now.”

“I’m not emotionally strong enough for-“

You both stopped as Wednesday stepped in front of you. It always made Enid smile to see you have to nearly break your neck to look down at her roommate. Something about the height difference made the power imbalance all the more entertaining.

“You both look far too happy,” Wednesday said in her usual deadpan.

“We were just talking about you!” Enid said happily.

“Hopefully it was everything bad,” Wednesday mused.

“Y/N was actually wanting to ask you something,” Enid continued, ignoring the look you shot her way. “Weren’t you?”

“What do you want?” Wednesday asked as she finally looked up at you. No one else would have noticed, but Enid saw the way her features softened just the most minuscule amount.

She also continued to ignore the increasingly pissed off look on your face before you sighed and turned back to Wednesday.

“I need a new math tutor,” you said through gritted teeth. “Think you could help me?”

“Your math knowledge is abysmal at best,” Wednesday answered quickly.

“Yeah, I know,” you mumbled. Your left hand came up and rubbed the back of your neck in what Enid had long ago realised was a self-soothing gesture.

“I suppose I can make time,” Wednesday finally said after leaving you to worry your lip for far too long. “On two conditions.”

“Name them,” you shot back instantly, your hand finally falling back down to your side.

“You don’t interrupt my writing time,” Wednesday said first.

“Easy, next?”

“You teach Eugene how to talk to people,” Wednesday concluded.

“Isn’t he, like, 13?” You asked, though Enid noted you never said no.

“He’s as dreadful at making friends as you are at math,” Wednesday continued, causing both you and Enid to flinch away from the harsh truth.

“Okay fine, deal,” you said with a slight huff. “Just quit insulting my math intelligence.”

“We can get started tonight at 7:30,” Wednesday said, completely ignoring your statement and turning to Enid. “We’re going to be late.”

She walked off quickly, and Enid gave you a quick “I’ll text you!” before jogging to catch up with her roommate. They walked in comfortable silence even though Enid was dying to ask Wednesday about her new study date with you. This was probably going to be the most time you would both be spending together at one time!

“Should I leave you both alone during your “tutoring” session tonight?” Enid finally asked, her tone and smile completely eliminating any chance at trying to keep her cool.

“You could use the math help too,” Wednesday answered quickly.

“I’m choosing to ignore that statement,” Enid said simply as she stood a little taller. “Just admit you like her flirting and want to spend alone time with her tonight!”

“It’s a pitiful attempt at flirting,” Wednesday said simply. “And if we are alone, I very well might drill the formulas into her head.”

“Actually, I think I’ll stick around,” Enid tried to joke even though she knew her roommate would follow through on her threat of bodily harm. For your sake, she would be the buffer between Wednesday Addams and your very life.

At least for tonight.

———

You were late.

You were late and it was raining and you weren’t answering your phone and there were only so many times Enid could tell Wednesday you were on the way. But Wednesday was smart, she had surely caught on by now that no one knew where you were. Maybe Enid should send Thing to go find you and force you to at least answer her texts-

-three knocks on the door. Enid was throwing it open in an instant.

“Where have you been?” She asked through gritted teeth.

“You told me to bring flowers,” you whisper-shouted back at her, “and Thornhill wouldn’t leave!”

“Well now you’re late and Wednesday is upset and- you look like hell,” Enid said as she finally noticed the haggard state you were in. “What happened to you?”

“My wings wouldn’t fold into the harness so now they’re all wet and-”

“-Just get in there and kiss up already,” Enid interrupted you. She grabbed you by the forearm - doing her best not to crush the chocolate in your hand - and pulled you into the room, shutting the door loud enough for Wednesday to turn around.

“You’re getting water all over the floor,” Wednesday said simply. “Where were you?”

“Held up by Thornhill,” you lied effortlessly. Well, technically it wasn’t a lie. An omission of sorts, you would claim. “So I brought these to, uh, make up for it.”

You held out the three black dahlias that had somehow survived the rain and the box of what Enid realised was very dark bitter chocolate. Perfect, Enid thought as she smiled to herself. You had gotten everything she had told you to get. This was going to work perfectly!

“Flirting was bad enough,” Wednesday said, causing your cheeks to burn, “but flowers and chocolates are just too far.”

Your mouth opened and closed several times with no words coming out. The flicker of your eyes in her direction before you sighed and took the gifts to the bed in defeat? Enid wanted to scream. How could that not have worked? They were two of the things that she knew Wednesday loved! This Addams was getting on her last nerve.

Enid kept one headphone out as the tutoring session droned on. She wanted to be up to date on everything you said so she could know what your next move was. Maybe Wednesday took studies too seriously and this wasn’t the proper time to woo her. That didn’t leave many options, but Enid could work with it.

“If you mention polynomials one more time, Addams, I’m going to strangle you,” your voice sounded out, causing Enid to jump and turn to make sure you were both still alive.

“Strangle me, then,” Wednesday said without hesitation, “at least then I won’t have to deal with your rather pitiful attempts at understanding simple terms.”

“That’s what this is supposed to be for,” you shot back, “fixing my pitiful attempts.”

“Not even I can fix this disaster,” Wednesday claimed.

“Fuck you, Addams,” you grumbled as you stood up from your spot on the floor and left the room.

Enid turned to face Wednesday, who was still sitting at her desk and looking utterly unfazed. Why would she tell you that? The whole point of this tutoring was for you both to spend time together! Why would she openly insult you like that and then have the nerve to act like-

-the door opened again and you leaned in just enough to look at Wednesday’s desk.

“Same time on Friday?” You asked as if nothing had ever happened.

“Don’t be late next time,” Wednesday answered.

“Sure thing, Addams,” you said with a mock salute and a small smile. “Good night, ladies.”

And just like that you were gone.

Enid fell back onto her bed in utter exhaustion. She hated you both.

———

“How’s the tutoring going?” Enid asked her roomie when she saw you walk through the courtyard with Eugene trailing after you like a lost puppy. At least you were holding up your end of the deal.

“She has risen from abysmal to slightly below adequate,” Wednesday said without looking up from her book. “A drastic improvement, I would say.”

“Have you both agreed to go on a date yet?” Enid continued; she had very much noticed the lingering look you gave Wednesday as you continued your walk.

“No,” Wednesday answered. “Don’t you have homework to finish?”

“I can either do my homework or interrogate you about your love life,” Enid sighed, “and frankly, I have priorities.”

“We are not going on a date,” Wednesday said, finally shutting her book. “That would be a conflict of interest and she would need to find a new math tutor.”

“That’s what you’re worried about?” Enid asked incredulously.

“No one else is capable of helping her pass her test next week,” Wednesday continued.

“Wednesday Addams,” Enid said, trying her best to sound authoritative, “you’d better ask her out on a date after her test, then.”

“Or what?” Wednesday asked. “You have nothing to hold over me.”

Enid inhaled sharply, her mind running a million miles a minute trying to think of what would make a good threat. Bodily harm wouldn’t work, she would enjoy it too much. There was nothing to take away because she had only the necessities to her name. Surely there was something Enid could use to make her threat worth it.

Bingo.

“Or I’ll show Y/N the pictures of you letting me paint your nails,” Enid finally said with a smug grin.

“If you do, you’d better sleep with one eye open,” Wednesday threatened back. The only difference was she didn’t need to give an actual threat; everything she did was scary.

But Enid’s demise would surely be worth it if it meant you two finally getting together.

———

“Read ‘em and weep, Addams,” your voice cut through the air as a packet was tossed onto the music stand in front of Wednesday.

She knew you would be coming by this evening; you had mentioned you were supposed to be getting your math test back. If you had failed, you would have come back and asked what you had done wrong. Which, admittedly, was everything; you truly were horrendous at math. But if you had passed, you would have come to gloat even if it was adequate at best.

She held her bow out to you - which you took with gentle hands - and picked up your test. There in the top corner was a 83 written in red ink. Her fingers flipped through each page, taking note of what you got wrong. Algebra, Wednesday thought with disgust, you never listen.

“An adequate grade,” Wednesday said as she handed the papers back to you. She ignored the ruffle of your feathers at her words before taking the bow back.

“Thank you for helping me,” you said in a voice that made Wednesday feel like she had swallowed a handful of spiders.

“I did it for Eugene,” Wednesday said. You both knew it was a lie. You didn’t call her out for it.

“Whatever you say, Addams,” you said with a smile that made those same spiders try to crawl back up her throat. “Don’t let your cello get wet, it’s supposed to rain.”

You turned your back to her and started walking along the edge of the balcony, the feathers of your wings twitching in the wind. They melted into the inky black of the night in a way that was almost poetic. Edgar Allen Poe-esque, she would even claim.

Thing tapped the music stand to get her attention before talking far too quickly. Wednesday shook her head no, but he insisted, finally leaving the stand to crawl up your leg and rest on your shoulder.

“Thing has something to ask you,” Wednesday said, ignoring the gesture Thing sent her way and focusing entirely on the sheet music that she wasn’t reading.

“Whatcha got?” You asked as you turned your head to look at him. He made his gestures - which Wednesday promptly refused to look at - and said what he wanted to say. You chuckled.

“I’d love to go on a date with you, Thing,” you said, finally looking up to meet Wednesday’s eyes as she glared at you. “We can hit up the Weathervane tomorrow, I’ll pick you up at 6.”

You held up your hand to give Thing a fist-bump before he crawled down and made his way back to the music stand. There was an irritating look on your face; it wasn’t quite a smile, but it was nearly as condescending. And yet, something about it almost made her not want to claw her own eyes out.

Almost.

“Good night, Wednesday,” you said before pitching backwards over the ledge. She almost felt her black heart skip a beat before you swooped back up into the sky and took off toward your own dorm.

“Do that again,” Wednesday said as she faced Thing, “and I’ll rip your fingernails out one by one.”

Thing shook and ran off back inside, probably to see Enid. He’d better pray she could protect him. She did not appreciate him and his sick sense of humour. Yours either, quite frankly, seeing as Thing had done exactly what she had asked him to do. But you were clearly going to make her work harder for this date.

That was a challenge she was willing to accept.

[aphroditestempleimagines]

That fool

Pairing: Suguru Geto x Reader - 18+

Words: 3943

Warnings: alcohol consumption, drunk reader, Geto is a teddy bear gojo is the mean one change my mind, sex (i promise geto is NOT a dick), fingering, bit of oral sex (fem!receiving), LOTS OF ANGST, name calling (princess) but just a bit

Summary: Your engagement to the heir to the Gojo clan has been arranged since you were young. Yet you can't help but realize that Satoru himself does not seem to care, neither about duty nor about you. As you try to drown your sorrow, you bump into your old, now criminal, friend.

Colour: Hot, Forbidden and very angsty

His love series - part 1

Author's note: idk why i wrote this when i'm a gojo simp, i'm in class and i'm bored. Also I'm gonna attempt a mixed pov.

"Is that what you wanted to discuss with me?", the man asked.

"You must understand", Geto responded, "It is the only way to truly eradicate evil from this world"

"It is aggressive and extreme and I will not be a part of it"

The man stood up. The short glass of whiskey fell down as he bumped the table.

"You yourself stood up against the monkey who hurt your son", Geto maintained his calm composure despite the man's reaction to his proposition.

"That was...different", the man uttered behind his teeth.

Geto smiled at the guy's clenched fists. He picked himself up and threw his arm over the man's shoulder. "All I'm saying is", he said firmly, "We keep losing our people to protect a lesser species who is, not just not thankful, but oppressive and prejudiced against us". He leaned in, anger brimming from his eyes. "How is that fair?"

The man lowered his head. Geto raised his gaze for just a second, out of habit. His eyes fell on your figure, lone and ridden with sadness, as you sat at the bar at the other end of the room. His first instinct was to run away; he would have, if you had not raised your hand to order another drink, directly from the young bartender. He leaned back to his potential associate, giving him a warm smile.

"You don't have to decide right away", he told him, "As long as we both keep this meeting confidential you can think on your answer for however long you'd like"

The man's fingers had not stopped fidgeting until Geto gave that small reasurement. A smile of relief adorned his face, yet some stress still remained in his eyes as he nodded and stumbled out of the establishment.

Geto focused his sights on you; your reddened eyes, your slumped form, your unquenchable thirst for liquor. Normally, he would not dream of talking to you again, not after he left Jujutsu High. He had to put everything behind him to move on with his goal. And though he remembered that fateful day he ran away from the crudity of the sorcerers' world as one of the brightest in his life, the thought of your tears and the memory of Gojo's calls were a constant anguish to him even to this day. And there they were, those tears he had feared, even though unspilled they remained so evident behind your tired eyes.

He approached. His legs brought him to you faster than his mind could object. His heart thanked them for it, but still broke a little at the sight of your startled face.

"Fancy meeting you here princess", he pretended to smile. It was quite easy since a part of him rejoiced at the reunion, even though in such saddening circumstances.

"What...ar you doin 'ere?", you slurred your words. You had not realized how heavy your head was until you tried to lift it up. You clutched your forehead. Your heart tightened. The stool was falling backwards. Your hands reached for the counter but it was no use; you could not reach it anymore. Your back hit something hard but it was not the floor. Geto's hands were on your arms as your head rested on his kimono-clothed chest.

"I think you've had enough", he said.

"Let me go!", you tried to wiggle out of his grasp, forgetting for a second that he was the only pillar keeping you from falling. Fortunately, his hold was quite strong. He released you only after he restored the stool to its proper position.

Geto's gaze scanned the room; it was full of them monkeys. He often said there were two kinds of them: money-collecting monkeys and curse-collecting monkeys. But when faced with a lonely drunken soul there came a third kind, the most vile of them all.

"That's it", he said as the hungry gazes collected on your form, "I'm taking you home. Where do you live?"

"I'm not telling you where I live, Geto"

"Is it still at the apartment in Shinjuku?"

Your face turned red. You had gotten that house during the last year of school so it would be quicker to attend emergencies in Tokyo. He and everyone else had helped you move in and you had not moved out since then. "y...yes", you whispered.

Geto was quick to guide your hand around his waist, throwing his around your form. "Just grab on to me", he said plainly, almost in annoyance, "Tell me if you can't walk anymore".

"I can do this by myself", you objected.

"You don't have to", he said, his gaze focused on the darkness surrounding you.

You did not speak as you walked, nor did you speak as you boarded the train from Roppongi Station. He held you close as you walked through the crowded tunnels to change lines in Shinjuku. His outdated attire did not draw nearly as much attention as your hazed gaze and reddened cheeks. You covered your face with your hand and buried your nose in Geto's robes.

"We're almost there", his grip tightened reassuringly around you.

You finally reached your apartment building. Your hands fumbled around inside your purse until they gripped the keys. He helped you open the lock and soon you were in the safety and comfort of your home. Geto stood at the doorway, not moving a step in as you took out your shoes and fell onto the couch. Everything was exactly the same as it was back then. Apart from a few minor items that were replaced after the times wore them down, nothing else had changed. He had not been there since that year. That year that had been the worst of his life. He could still remember Haibara helping out to set up the table, just as he could recall your beautiful smile as you and Shoko chatted while hanging all of the paintings that decorated the walls. Both images made his heart ache. He had not felt any remorse about his decision in years, yet there he was, being pulled in two different directions like he was in those days. And all it took, was one visit.

"Why are you just standing there?", your voice disperced his thoughts. You were rubbing your eyes with your hand. "Just come in", you told him.

He almost did not. He almost ran away back to the temple he had sought refuge in. Perhaps he should have. You were safe now. The only danger to you was he himself. Yet his curiosity won him over. He took off his sandals and went to the kitchen to pour you a glass of water, and him a bottle of sake. He sat on the couch next to you as you gratefully gulped down the refreshment you craved. You left the glass on the table and fell back on the pillows of the couch. He was overcome with the temptation - no, the need - to caress your heavy head as your messy locks fell upon your face. It took all his restraint not to.

"I can't do this anymore", you said. He had not asked a question, but he guessed you were drunk enough to wallow in your own pity.

"Exorcising?", he asked.

"No", you responded, "I know you probably wanted a different answer but...it's what I know how to do. So I'll do it"

Those words poured blood in Geto's clenched fists. That was exactly what Haibara used to say. He knew Gojo was far too strong, and perhaps even far too selfish, to share the same fate as he. But you? You, Shoko, Nanami were among the people he wanted to protect from the foolishness of the life as a jujutsu sorcerer.

"I never thought I would want him to love me. I know he never will", you continued murmuring.

You did not have to explain. This was about Gojo. Ever since High School he knew the two of you were arranged by his clan to be married one day. Gojo took no interest in the idea back then. He thought himself far too young for it. But after all these years was he continuing the same immaturity?

He could not be mad at him. He would never truly be mad at Gojo. He often wondered if he was ever mad at him but the opposite was never going to be true. And yet your tears felt as if they were his own. Your broken heart crumbled onto his hands and he fully knew that if he was the one to hold it initially he would not had dared cause such damage.

"I know at the end of the day it does not matter", you said, "But...it feels like...he's fine by himself. I can never stand at his side and neither would he ever want me to. And I just feel so...alone"

Geto knew that feeling well. He poured himself another glass of sake and gobbled it down.

"No one would care if I disappeared"

"I would", Geto stated. The words slipped his mouth. He looked at you. You had lifted your gaze. It fell troubled onto his face. He cupped your cheek and leaned towards you. His thumb brushed away your tears. "I would", he said again with even more determination. If he could not take the words back he would make sure you understood them. He would make sure you never felt the way he did back then.

You grabbed his kimono and pulled him in for a kiss. It was sloppy and desperate but at the same time everything you needed. He hesitated to put his hand on your waist, but he was already reciprocating the kiss. He felt your tears wet his calloused hand and he knew he was nothing more than a replacement. He did not know what you were to him exactly, what you were definitely seared onto his heart. And as he devoured your cherry lips he got even more drunk on the nectar of your kiss; he would have never guessed he could have such an alternative to the curses he forced himself to swallow.

"You're not thinking straight", he breathed against your face as you climbed on top of him.

"I know", you responded, "I simply don't care"

He held you close and kissed you again. His hands traveled up and down your form. The last notes of your perfume enveloped him. He thought of your smile, one of the few things that gave him true joy during his dark days. You both loved Satoru but Satoru was determined to prove he was better off alone. Would he hurt him if he slept with you? A part of him wanted to, wanted to get revenge for staying true to the jujutsu world, for making you cry, for everything. And a part of him could not. But he could not push you away either. He could not be the cause of more tears. He could not be the reason you did not find your smile again. And most of all, he could not cool down the feverish heat that overwhelmed him as your body pressed against his.

"Suguru...", you murmured above his lips.

That was it. He could not take it anymore. He flipped your bodies so that your back hit the couch cushions. He nibbled your neck as his hand hiked up your black dress until it was scrunched over your hips. His thumb pressed on your bud over your panties and traced small rough circles. He tried to pull the neckline of your dress down but he just could not stretch it down enough. In a swift move, he reached for the hem around your waist, pulled the dress over your head and threw it on the floor.

Your body trembled at the sudden chill. You reached for his cheeks and pulled him in for a kiss, your hands undoing his long black hair. His locks fell on the sides like a curtain.

He was kissing your chest. His fingers pulled your underwear to the side and glided over your clit. Your hands got tangled in his hair as he pressed one of them past your lower lips.

"Always the idiot", Geto murmured as he kissed you between your breasts, "He'll never change".

Your body trembled as he dexterously thrusted his digits inside you. Your hands blindly searched for the tie of his belt. Geto used his free hand to pull open his robes until he could shake them off his shoulders and let them hang from his waist. You traced the faded scar on his firm chest. He placed his hand over yours and brought your palm to his lips for a gentle kiss. He kept your hand close to his cheek, relishing its touch with closed eyes.

"Don't ever say things like that about yourself again", he said firmly, "You're the best our world has to offer"

A few tears escaped your eyes. Geto noticed and kissed them away before adding a peck on the bridge of your nose. He moved his fingers more meticulously as you climbed in ecstasy. Your heaving breath exploded against his face, his eyes blazingly observing your heated expression. The spring of the coil was being twisted more and more by the minute. He gave you a quick kiss, hiked your leg over his bare shoulder and pressed his mouth against your clit. You moaned his name out loud before you came on his fingers. A subtle smile formed on your lips, pure and simple. Suguru could relish that smile for all eternity.

He climbed back up until he towered over your body. Your arms wrapped around his torso as he kissed you deeply. You were so beautiful; even more than he could remember.

"Suguru", your name left his lips again.

"I never realised how much I missed hearing you say my name"

Your hands reached for his belt again. "I want you"

"Not as much as I do", he aided you in undoing it. He threw his robes next to your dress. He gave you small kisses as his dressed length pressed on your entrance. "Tell me if it hurts".

You fisted his hair as he entered you. You did not stop him until he had bottomed out. He continued kissing you reassuringly, one hand massaging your tailbone, the other holding your leg around his hips. He was kissing your neck now, waiting for you to catch your breath.

"Don't be nice to me", you told him, "I don't want you to be nice to me"

He laughed. "Yes, you do", he lightly nipped at your collarbone, "And you always get what you want"

Soon the room was filled with your sounds of pleasure as Suguru's hips met yours in a passionate dance, tuned to an intoxicated melody. His cheeks had grown hot; yours had too.

"You're so beautiful", he breathed. There was a battle going on in his mind. He had loved a lot of people. He kept a list in his mind of those he wanted to protect, those he wanted for sure to be in his new world. You, Gojo, Nanami, Shoko...He loved all of them equally; or almost. You and Gojo were always a little higher on the ranks. But this? This was a new you he was seeing for the very first time and he was intoxicated. All the have-nots and could have been in his head were suddenly turning into a plausible reality. If only he could keep you with him. If only he could have you by his side, every day he woke up. He had chosen to leave so he would not burden any of his friends with the cruelty of his mission, but the prospect of the happiness he would gain by just gazing upon your face every day was too tempting to pass.

Yet there was another thought trying to force its way into his mind. 'If I could become Satoru Gojo for a moment, the dream would be achievable'. He was hurting him by being with you. He had taken one of the many things bestowed upon that man that he ungratefully scorned. And as much as it pained him to cause Gojo anguish, a part of him thought of it as well-deserved for his foolishness. Maybe he would finally mature and appreciate everything he had been given.

"Suguru!", your moan pulled him back into reality.

He held your sweated cheek. "Come for me, princess", he said and lowered his voice and lips close to your ear, "If you want to use your legs tomorrow that is"

Your hands gripped his hair again. Your walls clenched around his length. He grunted as he felt them squeeze him. "Two can play this game, princess", his hand rubbed fiercely on your bud.

Your breathing turned irregular. Your vision turned hazy. All there was was him and nothing else. Your thoughts were overcome with the knot in your stomach, threatening to break any minute.

Your head fell back as you came with a loud moan of his name. He followed soon after. You could feel his tired breath explode on the skin of your neck as he rested his head on your shoulder. You brushed his hair with your fingers. He planted soft kisses under your hairline. He sat up for a moment to put on his boxers, burning the condom into nothingness with a spell. He pulled your tired body against his as he lay on the couch, his arms wrapping around you.

"Y/n", he called your name softly.

"Hm?", your ear was pressed on his bare chest, listening to the beat of his heart.

He cupped your cheek to guide your gaze to him. He wore a genuine smile for the first time in years as he caressed your face. You could not help but return it. He planted a kiss on your forehead, his hand diving under your locks.

"No one deserves your tears", his low voice whispered next to your ear, "But if you have to spill them, let them be mine"

He picked up his robe and threw it over your bodies like a blanket as you drifted off to sleep.

*****************************************************************************

When morning came, Geto woke up alone. Y/n's warmth still lingered over his body as he blindly searched for her with his sleepy eyes. His ears finally focused on the sound of running water. He smiled. They had not taken a shower last night so it was only logical she would do it first thing in the morning. He sat up on the couch, pulling his robe properly around his body. His gaze ran around the small apartment. Memories of your life were carefully placed all over the walls, the counters, the tables. He walked up to a dresser at the back of the room, probably storing all the linen needed in the living room-dining room fusion. Two photographs were placed on it; one with your class and Nanami's class, happily drinking together at Shoko's birthday party. The other one was with you and Gojo; smiles much subtler as you posed for an engagement picture.

Gojo's glasses were different than the ones Geto remembered. It must have been a more recent picture. He smiled as he admired your beautiful face, all dolled up for the photo. Then his eyes fell on Satoru again. His face turned serious. He missed him, that was sure. But he had grown accustomed to hating him, knowing he was probably hated back. He had grown accustomed to blaming him, knowing he was being blamed back.

He looked more carefully at his glasses. He could just see the shiny blue of his eyes underneath. His own eyes opened wide. Gojo's gaze was on you. The smile he wore was not fake at all; Geto would have recognized it. It was clear as day he had feelings for you. Yet you were not lying about your broken heart either. His eyes watered. He had thought he would be happy hurting Gojo's pride, but his heart was too much. He left the picture on the dresser and walked to your bedroom. He knocked on the door. Your voice called him in. One look at you and he lost all the words he wanted to say. He wanted to stay with you. But doing that would hurt Gojo. And if he chose to leave and spare Gojo from further pain, he would strike your heart at a moment when it was already bleeding.

"Last night", you drew his attention, "It was a mistake"

Those words were a knife through his chest. You kept your back turned on him as you lazily dried your hair with a towel.

"I wasn't thinking straight"

"You said you didn't care"

"I was wrong", you told him.

Suguru walked towards you. "You were not. I...I missed you"

"Don't lie to me. You just wanted to get back at Gojo for once", you spat. You cursed your lips the moment the words left your mouth. Suguru remained silent. "You won't even deny it?", you asked, "Geto"

"Suguru", he corrected. You sat there in silece for a moment. "Y/n", he finally spoke, "Look at me"

You shook your head.

"Please", he said again, "Look at me"

You slowly turned to face him. He had known he had guessed it right. The tears were back to flowing from your eyes, and this time he was the cause. He had made the wrong choice. All he had wanted was to bring you to smile.

"What brought this on?", he asked calmly.

His face was as it had been in your school days; calm, composed...kind. You could not help but answer him, even though it would be an unpleasant thing to do so. You reached for the small radio next to your bed and turned it back on to the station you had been listening to. You waited for a while before the newsman returned after the break and continued with more details on the newest strange mass attack on humans that took place in Tokyo the night before.

"That was your friends, right?", you said, your lips trembling even though you knew the answer.

"Yes", he said, "There was a cult forming with knowledge of our kind. I had to eliminate them"

"Do you hear yourself?", you cried as you shot up on your feet, "What did these people even do?"

"It's not what they did, it's what they most likely would have done"

"Get out", you spat. Your voice cracked as you repeated those words again and again.

Suguru did not move. "I will", he said, "But I want you to know, I've never said a single lie to you. And I never will"

You were covering your face with your hands as you cried and so you neither heard nor saw him approach. You startled as he placed a soft kiss on your head.

"I'm sorry", he whispered, "It was never my intention to cause you pain".

"That hardly matters"

"I know", he said. "I know", he repeated it one more time as he touched his forehead to yours.

He turned to leave but stopped right before your door. "If you see Satoru", he said, "Slap him for me. Then kiss him for you".

"What?"

"He's so immature, you need to slap him back to his senses. Or he'll be too late again"

And with that, Suguru returned to the shadows of Tokyo, far away from the light he had found in the small apartment with you.

[madlittlecriminal]

I do not know if you still accept requests, but I would like a fanfic about Peter B with glasses so badly, please, he could be like a nerd or something 🤭

(It would be awesome If It could be NSFW with Fem Reader, and praise kink or just cute, soft sex, please)

Anyways, thanks for reading☺️

🌸

Behind Closed Dorms ↬ Nerd!Peter B. Parker × Kind!Popular!Fem!Reader [a.u]

i wanted to do something different because i read a lot of fics that had to do with reader being the mean popular girl. nothing against them since i do indulge in reading them sometimes, but i wanted a different fic, especially since the request asked for soft sex & praise.

Warnings: smut, praise, soft sex/love making, they are both in college, he's a bit possessive so sue me, mention of cockwarming, the glasses stay on, protected p in v.

im just putting a disclaimer here. i do wear glasses, but for the sake of glasses not being universal as either some people don't wear them or they use contacts, so to my fellow glasses wearers, I apologize.

happy new year!

If Peter was being honest, he hated parties, but he only came to this one because it was your friend's birthday and you asked him to come with you. He didn't mind it, but now he was curious as to why you kept his hand on your waist. "You okay?" He whispered in your ear, earning a nod. Did he believe it? No. You were never this needy if he was being honest, but he let it go. However, when he looked up, he saw your ex and quickly put the pieces together.

Just because he was a nerd, didn't mean he was shy. He adjusted his glasses before pulling you on his lap and wrapping both arm around your waist. You let out a soft gasp before turning your head and he chuckled before placing a kiss on your shoulder.

"Just because he's here, doesn't mean I'll shy away from showing him how happy you are." He whispers against your shoulder, causing you to smile and peck his temple. He smiled back at you.

"I hope I'm not hurting you."

He gave you a playful glare. "You've sat on my face before, and I didn't complain. I'm still not complaining. You. Are not. Heavy. Got it?"

You felt your cheeks grow warm at his words before nodding. "Got it."

The party dragged on with you talking to a few of the cheerleaders, the study group you're in and to a few jocks. Neither you nor Peter cared, but now Peter was regretting putting you on his lap. The skirt you were wearing was flowy and he hated that he was now thinking of you cockwarming him. He shook his head and cleared his throat. You turned around and raised a brow.

"Everything okay?" Peter looks up at you and you saw the brown in his eyes grow darker and his pupils dilate. You quickly got up and took his hand before rushing out of the frat house that your friend's party was held at.

"Wait, angel, where are we going?"

"Your dorm or mine?"

Peter's face flushed red before smirking. "Mine. My roommate is visiting family for the weekend."

You both headed to his dorm before you pulled him into a kiss. He rested his hands on your hips and kissed you back. The kiss wasn't aggressive nor was it filled with hunger, but rather, it was soft and sensual. He led you to his bed, letting you fall back without breaking the kiss and his hands staying on your hips. "I love you, you know that?" He whispered against your lips.

"I love you too," you whisper back, your hands tugging on the hem his graphic t-shirt as his hands trailed under your blouse.

"Wanna take off my shirt, baby?" He asked softly and you nodded. He pecked your lips once more before you took off his shirt, but being careful not to let his glasses fly off his face.

It happened before when you both were desperate. It didn't ruin the moment, but you both took notes to not be too aggressive with clothing removal after that.

He took off your blouse afterward before letting his lips trail down from your neck to your shoulders. "So beautiful. So perfect and I'm so glad you're mine." You felt your cheeks warm up at his words before running your fingers down his back.

"And I'm glad you're mine." Your lips met his once again as he reached behind you and removed your bra with ease. His lips went down to your breasts before kissing each of them softly. His hands go down your sides before his hands reach the waistband of your skirt. He pulls it down with ease before going down and kissing your clothed cunt. You bite your bottom lip as you moan softly, your fingers quickly tangling into his hair.

He chuckles before taking your panties off. He then trails kisses from your belly button up until he reaches your neck. Your hands go down to the button of his jeans before undoing it and pulling them down along with his boxers. He reaches over to his bedside table before pulling out the foil packet you were too familiar with and opening it. He slid it on his cock before planting a kiss on your lips. Peter slowly entered you, making you moan.

His thrusts were slow, but they still made you feel good. If you were being honest, it was most likely because it was Peter and sex with him, no matter the form, was always good, if anything, the best you've ever had. "Pete," you moan softly as you wrap your arms around his neck before your lips met his. The kiss was slow, sensual and filled with love. Peter didn't stop his thrusts, continuing the slow and passionate pace. He broke the kiss briefly, his glasses slightly smudged and fogged up, but he didn't care.

"You're so beautiful, my love." He whispered almost breathlessly against your lips. You ran your fingers through his hair and bit your bottom lip. "You always feel so good. I'll never get tired of you and this pussy of yours." You felt your cheeks warm up at his words before you wrap your legs around his hips with a moan.

Peter groans and takes one of your hands before interlocking his fingers with yours. You squeeze his hand softly and he smiles softly, but his hips never faulter from their slow and sensual pace. "You look so pretty like this, my love."

"Do I?"

"You do. So pretty. All mine."

You nodded with a moan. "All yours, Peter." His lips met yours once again while his free hand trails down to your clit. Another moan you let out was swallowed by his kiss as his finger began circling around your clit with the same pace as his thrusts. Your legs tightened around him, his cock going deeper inside you as his finger never left your clit. You broke the kiss and threw your head back at you felt how deep he was now. "Oh my god, Peter!" You moan out as his lips connected to your neck.

"I'm right here, baby. Don't worry." His words brushed against your neck causing your eyes to roll back and cum. Shortly after, Peter finished into the condom. He rested his forehead against yours as you both caught your breaths. When his eyes met yours, you both couldn't help but let out a breathy chuckle. "You did so well, baby. I love you."

"I love you too."

[paracosmic-murdock]

Tell me what are my words worth ; Benedict Bridgerton x Reader

Chapter 22: "Une dame fait ce qu’une dame doit"

Pairing: Benedict Bridgerton x fem!reader

Summary: It has been two years since your secret was exposed and you had to leave London. Two years with deep buried misery and in which you missed everything you used to have. However, neglect, novelties, and letters made sure to give you more than one reason to return to claim someone who is as rightfully yours as your estate and your people: Benedict Bridgerton.

Warnings/tags: idiots in love, eventual smut, mutual pining, (kinda???) enemies (fake, this is just pride) to lovers (surely), bisexual benedict bridgerton, feminist themes, historical inaccuracy (for the sake of the plot), inspired by mulan (1998), song: the lakes (taylor swift), other tags to be added

Chapter summary: Your return has brought misfortune to whoever had it coming, and you were far from done. But one thing was for sure: you might had already gotten your divine punishment, but everyone else would too as long as you live to ensure it.

Word count: 1.5K

❁ Series masterlist

❁ mila's paracosm (main masterlist)

The dinner was tense enough for Gregory and Hyacinth to be worried.

They made questions nobody dared to answer, and Anthony tried his best to distract the family and focus on a much more important matter: your wedding.

While neither Eloise nor Colin were present at the dinner, you weren't affected by their absence. Or at least that's what you were trying to tell yourself.

You knew Eloise was mad at you but were ignorant of Colin's thoughts. He loves Penelope now, so there must be a conflict between love and duty.

And Eloise was mad, but you were madder.

You should feel guilty, and you should believe you went too far after Anthony's radical decision; but you were not. Not when your life was still at risk, and you still had people trying to hurt you.

But you weren't scared of her.

What else could she say now that would hurt you more than she already did? Nothing at all.

So now you, Benedict, and Lady Bridgerton were at the Queen's palace with news.

“I take this particular set of people visiting me altogether as a good sign.” She gave you a knowing look.

You smiled widely. “Indeed, Your Majesty.”

“We came to extend our invitation to our engagement ball,” Benedict said. “We will send the invitation to the wedding as soon as they are ready, Your Majesty.”

“We would be honored to have you,” Lady Bridgerton added. “You are also welcome to stay at the Castle with the family.”

“I shall make sure you get the second best room.”

The Queen chortled at your last comment. “My child, I would be enchanted to accompany you on a day as special as your wedding and your engagement ball! Give Brimsley all the information and count on me being there.”

“We would not be here today without your help and blessing,” you added. “So I wanted to make sure you were the very first person outside of the family and the Council of Burgundy to know about the wedding.”

She gave you an approving smile. “And for that, I am beyond honored, Your Grace.”

After exchanging your farewells, the three of you left the Palace.

“That was certainly fruitful,” Lady Bridgerton noted. “She even addressed you like one would a duchess.”

“I did not know you two were friends!”

You scoffed. “Friends? We are like family!” you exaggerated jokingly. “I do not know, my heart. She gave me her support and her blessing. The Queen was quite moved with my story, so I can only assume that is the reason.”

“That is right,” Lady Bridgerton added. “Don't you think we should announce your engagement at the ball tomorrow?”

“I believe that is proper. Is it not, my heart?”

“It sure is,” you nodded. “I must visit the modiste right after so she can make my wedding gown as I promised her.”

“Madame Delacroix?” Benedict questioned.

“In the flesh.” You confirmed.

He swallowed hard at the thought of his ex lover making his bride's wedding gown, but figured a better moment to inform you of his previous rendez-vous would come soon enough.

“I shall join you, dearest.”

Benedict cleared his throat. “We will make a stop at the Academy before getting home. I have been absent far too long.”

“It is just fine.” you agreed. “Your mother and I were thinking of visiting Lady Danbury before teatime.”

He nodded.

The way to the Academy was longer than you remembered. You laid your head on Benedict's shoulder and held hands under his mother's loving glance.

“We have arrived,” Benedict announced. “Goodbye, Mother; goodbye, my heart” He gave you a quick kiss on your lips, and you gladly corresponded.

“Benedict Bridgerton, you stop that!” Lady Bridgerton scolded him and hit his knee in apprehension.

“I was just saying goodbye to my future wife!” He defended himself and ran out of the carriage hiding his laughter. You smirked, too.

“You cannot let anybody see you two doing these kinds of things, my dear,” she advised. “I understand the passion shared between a pair who love each other as much as you and my son do. I have seen it in Daphne and Anthony, too. I experienced it with Edmund…, but you must be careful. Society isn't approving of this, and it could lead to rumors none of us want out there.”

“I understand, my Lady,” you replied. “Shall we go to the modiste now?”

She nodded. “Of course, dearest.”

“I suppose les rumeurs were true.” Madame Delacroix commented. “You and Mr. Bridgerton are engaged to be married.”

You smiled. “I told you firsthand. I said it myself.”

“You were rather cunning, were you not?”

“A lady does what a lady must.” you replied.

“Was your departure to France a carefully planned scheme, too?”

You clicked your tongue. “Is that French persona of yours a scheme as well?”

“What is it that you want, my Lady?” she inquired, knowing that your knowledge was enough to ruin her. That nothing was worth the detriment of her reputation.

“I know that Penelope Featherington is Lady Whistledown, and I know you do, too,” you said. “And, as you know quite well, she has exposed me as a result of that tantrum of hers… That slowed my plans and ruined everything I had worked for for my entire life. I was not interested in marrying at the beginning, though I knew that the only way to recover what is mine, was to marry a nobleman. The first time my eyes encountered Benedict's, I knew my aversion to men and a loving marriage was gone and buried. I decided that he was the gentleman I wanted for myself, and I would not have let anyone ruin it for me. Penelope Featherington did, completely unprompted.”

“I understand,” She looked at you as she measured your bosom. “What is it that I have to do?”

“Mere falsehoods were enough to get rid of Miss Prince. A sudden departure and a letter were enough to recover Mr. Bridgerton's affections,” you noted. “Now, once you make sure that Lady Featherington finds out that her daughter, Miss Penelope, is Lady Whistledown, she will have lost her family's slight presence in her life. I, also, am aware that you know where Lady Whistledown has her issues printed, do you not?”

Madame Delacroix nodded. You gave her a paper with something written on it. “You give them this in her name as soon as Lady Featherington learns about Penelope's activities.”

“What will happen if I do not do it?” she asked.

“If you inform Penelope, I guarantee you I will find out; if you do not go along with my plan, I shall find out, too,” you began. “If I do not see this issue published promptly, I myself will make sure to have everyone find out you are not French at all, that all is a ruse.” you warned. “However, if you do, I shall make sure for everyone throughout Europe hears your name and admires your designing skills.”

“I see.”

“I believe that an opportunity like this is more than enough to convince you.”

She smiled nervously, knowing you were right. It is a sacrifice she was certainly willing to make.

Just like you said, a lady does what a lady must. It applied to her as well.

Lady Bridgerton returned to the room. “I am certain the ballgowns will be absolutely perfect.”

“I could never doubt a French woman's judgment when it comes to haute couture,” you told her. “I trust her more than enough to have her design my wedding dress. My gown for the Engagement Ball as well.”

“That sounds most wonderful.” she agreed.

“Even my cousin, the King of France, will be there!” you exclaimed. “Queen Charlotte is my guest of honor, not to mention the Princess of Monaco and my dearest friends from Belgium.”

The faux française smiled brightly. “I am most pleased to hear that.”

“You would be much more pleased to hear them compliment your designs to your face.” you promised, winking at her.

Madame Delacroix nodded.

The decision was made.

Dearest gentle reader,

It is an enormous shame to inform you I was cruelly misinformed and had this all reach your eyes. With this, I mean Lady Y/N of Burgundy's rumor.

I am, unfortunately, not referring to her engagement to Mr. Bridgerton, no. I am referring to her alleged secret, to her purpose in Mayfair and place in the Royal Academy of Art.

Beloved reader, it is the first time a thing as such has occurred to me. Therefore, I was obliged to clear the situation, for her life could be thoroughly affected by this grotesque lie. The future duchess of Burgundy has done nothing but gracing us with her presence in London.

There certainly is a resentful force that planted this rumor like poison ivy seeds. But, who could it be? An old acquaintance of the Bridgerton's? A maid looking to marry into this widely known family? Perchance an envious soul? I am hopeful you will stay true to me in order to find out.

Walls talk, the breeze informs… Surely the truth will come out sooner or later, and I shall make sure, dear reader, that you find out first-hand.

Sincerely yours,

Lady Whistledown.

taglist: @yentroucnagol @crimsonincursive @czarinera @uwumd @omgnctchina

[goodqueenaly]

Love your tumblr! One question: do you think that stannis would really have burned edric storm if Davos hadn't smuggled him to lys?

Unfortunately, yes. Stannis makes this very clear, along with his reasoning for doing so, to Davos in "Davos V" ASOS (emphasis added):

“Edric—” he started. “—is one boy! He may be the best boy who ever drew breath and it would not matter. My duty is to the realm.” His hand swept across the Painted Table. “How many boys dwell in Westeros? How many girls? How many men, how many women? The darkness will devour them all, she says. The night that never ends. She talks of prophecies … [sic] a hero reborn in the sea, living dragons hatched from dead stone … [sic] she speaks of signs and swears they point to me. I never asked for this, no more than I asked to be king. Yet dare I disregard her?” He ground his teeth. “We do not choose our destinies. Yet we must …[sic] we must do our duty, no? Great or small, we must do our duty. Melisandre swears that she has seen me in her flames, facing the dark with Lightbringer raised on high. Lightbringer!” Stannis gave a derisive snort. “It glimmers prettily, I’ll grant you, but on the Blackwater this magic sword served me no better than any common steel. A dragon would have turned that battle. Aegon once stood here as I do, looking down on this table. Do you think we would name him Aegon the Conqueror today if he had not had dragons?” “Your Grace,” said Davos, “the cost … [sic]” “I know the cost! Last night, gazing into that hearth, I saw things in the flames as well. I saw a king, a crown of fire on his brows, burning … [sic] burning, Davos. His own crown consumed his flesh and turned him into ash. Do you think I need Melisandre to tell me what that means? Or you?” The king moved, so his shadow fell upon King’s Landing. “If Joffrey should die … [sic] what is the life of one bastard boy against a kingdom?”

This is the terrible tragedy of Stannis, or maybe the tragic terror - not simply that he was willing to burn his nephew, his ward, his only daughter's playmate and friend alive, but that he did so without a drop of sadistic pleasure or Snidely Whiplash-style villainy, because he genuinely believed that this was what he needed to do to save the world. Stannis knew, or believed he knew, that in being acclaimed as Azor Ahai Reborn he was being doomed to his own level of sacrifice; as he wryly noted to Davos, the burning crown was hardly a Delphic vision in its advertisement of his, Stannis', future destruction. Yet as Stannis also told Davos, he would not shirk away from what he believed to be his duty, temporal or apocalyptic. If "[t]he night that never ends" was (and is) threatening all of his people, then, so Stannis argued, he had to do what would save the greatest number of those people; he could not, by this logic, prioritize the life of one boy over the lives of so many boys and girls whose own lives were imminently threatened by a humanity-level crisis.

Further, Stannis demonstrated his commitment to this course of action by attempting to wring more guarantees from Melisandre immediately before Davos' surprise reveal:

Melisandre moved closer. “Save them, sire. Let me wake the stone dragons. Three is three. Give me the boy.” “Edric Storm,” Davos said. Stannis rounded on him in a cold fury. “I know his name. Spare me your reproaches. I like this no more than you do, but my duty is to the realm. My duty … [sic]” He turned back to Melisandre. “You swear there is no other way? Swear it on your life, for I promise, you shall die by inches if you lie.”

Here, Stannis clearly indicated to Davos that he had neither the time nor the patience for another philosophical debate on the morality of burning Edric Storm. Instead, Stannis repeated his brief, blunt thesis - "My duty is to the realm" - before allowing a moment of final conscience-clearing courtesy of Melisandre. Once again, Stannis shows that he was driven not by cruelty or hatred toward Edric the boy - indeed, not by any personal emotions at all - but a genuine belief that this, and nothing else, could save his realm from total destruction. His willingness to confirm with Melisandre that "there [was] no other way" illustrates how close Stannis came to the brink, already attempting to validate the conclusion even before the deed was done.

Of course, Stannis did not burn Edric, thanks to Davos' intervention. Yet his attempt, and more specifically his mindset for that attempt, hint at another, and likely more successful (in only the sense of being completed), sacrificial move. When the peril of the Others and the danger of another Long Night are at hand, I think Stannis will finally cross that line, burning not his nephew but his own daughter, believing, though I think completely wrongly, that only this sacrifice can save the world.

[thefallennightmare]

Moment of Weakness-seventeen

*credit to whoever created the gif. found on google/Pinterest *

Pairings: Mob!Bucky Barnes x reader

Warnings: language, smut, angst, fluff, affair, cheating, violence.

Summary: Reader is the assistant to New York's most feared mob boss, James Buchanan Barnes. He had the picture-perfect life: status in the mob, friends, and beautiful wife. So why can't he keep his mind and eyes off of reader?

Authors Notes: I have no idea why this one was so hard to write! It could be because I have my mind working on overdrive for my Winter Soldier story I've got planned. BUT, the real freaking drama is about to happen so buckle the fuck up.

Tags(closed): @splendidreads @sebsgirl71479 @mdpplgtz03 @pattiemac1 @unaxv @alana4610 @broadwaybabe18 @themayzittcha @playboystark @raajali3 @ozwriterchick @ragamuffin285 @screamingdying @themorningsunshine @kenziekugler22 @calwitch @sebastianstansqueen @stanaddict @stucky-simp03 @sleyeveryday @loustan90 @lyra-black13 @valsworldofcreativity @cjand10 @tesseract69 @batprincess1013 @subwaysurf45 @arsonfrogger @yoruse @5moremin @lipstickandtanqueray @mandijo17 @joannaromanoff @justsebstan @winters1917 @elizacusi-blog

Monday morning came before I was ready to face it, but I knew that there wasn’t any way I would be able to stay home, avoiding my problems, for much longer. My mind had been jumbled with thoughts of Bucky and Steve which made my decision way harder than I would have liked it to be. What did help, however, was that I didn’t hear from either of them the last couple of days, both giving me space when I needed it most. 

Now, the half block walk from where I parked my car to the office building gave me time to think even more about the two men. 

Steve.

He was a breath of fresh air, something different and inviting. He never once judged me for what I was doing with Bucky. He never said he knew but didn’t have too. Steve was nice from day one when I started, and our relationship grew slowly over time and it would be stupid not to give him a chance. 

Bucky.

Bucky was everything that I had been wanting for so long, he’s the one that my heart yearns for when I’m not around him. He’s the one that I think of the second I put my head down for the night and the second I rise from the bed.

While there was chemistry when Steve and I kissed, it was always different with Bucky. 

My heart rate would accelerate, pounding all throughout my body while my knees would go weak, unable to stand. There was so much fire and intensity with something unknown hidden behind every one of Bucky’s kisses. I couldn’t explain it, it merely kept me wanting more.  

However, there still was the fact that Bucky was married and unable to fully commit to me one hundred percent while Steve was ready to give himself to me; in more ways than one. 

In the end, someone was going to get hurt and I was willing for it to be me so neither Bucky nor Steve would fall prey to it. 

As I turned the corner, Barnes Industries coming into view, I felt a burning gaze at the back of my head which caused me to turn on my heels. Eyes scanned the busy street, other people getting ready to start their own workday, and when no one seemed out of place, I continued the short walk to the front door. 

Only now, the burning intensified, and I quickly spun around, this time catching a petite woman dart down the alley a couple feet away from me. 

“What the fuck,” I muttered with furrowed brows. 

When I turned back around, I collided with a large chest, feet stumbling back, and I prepared myself to fall onto the concrete. Strong arms wrapped around me, catching me before I fell. 

His eyes bored into mine and my body went rigid with fear. 

“Cl-clint.” I stammered. 

Clint helped me stand up straight and made a mockery of dusting my shoulders off. 

“You should really watch where you’re going, Y/N. You never know who you might run into, literally.” 

My lips were pulled in a straight line, too afraid to speak a word, and I did the best I could to move past him through the crowded streets. Two gazes were burning a hole into the back of my head but I didn’t bother to look back and see, knowing who one of them belonged to. 

“Shit.” 

“Oh fuck!” 

A small scream fell from my lips when I collided with yet another body, only this one I felt safe in their embrace as his vibranium hand captured my lower back. Bucky’s blue eyes watching me with concern. 

“Doll? Are you alright?” 

I shook my head, blinking away a few tears that pooled in my eyes. Bucky looked around before pulling me further inside of the building, helping me sit in the chair at my desk. 

He kneeled in front of me, placing a hand on my cheek. “Hey, what happened?” 

“I felt as if someone was watching me when I was walking in. I got distracted trying to see who and ended up walking into Clint. There’s no way that he would be in your neighborhood for the hell of it, right?” 

Bucky’s shoulders went rigid, a low scowl on his lips. “Only to scare you.” 

I shook my head. “I thought you paid off the hit?” 

“I did,” he nodded. “Maybe he’s trying to scare you.” 

“Well, it worked,” I sniffled. 

With both of his hands around the back of my neck, he placed a small kiss on my forehead, the action calming my shaking bones immediately. 

“Maybe I should go home. He doesn't know where I live,” I said. 

As soon as the words left my lips, I couldn’t help but question that statement. There wasn’t a doubt in my mind that he knew where I lived. 

“I’d feel a lot better if you stayed here, that way I can make sure you’re safe,” Bucky replied. 

I nodded, knowing he was right. 

We stared at each other, his tongue wetting his bottom lip as Bucky began to lean in closer and even with the fire burning low in my abdomen, I let out a small cough to put some distance between us. 

“I think I’m going to make some coffee, get my mind off what happened.” 

“Sure,” Bucky gave me a forced smile and slowly pulled away. “I’ll be in my office and have the door open if you need anything.” 

I didn’t bother to see the small look of hurt across his face as I removed myself from his grasp. 

Who was that woman? Something about her screamed familiar but I never got a good look at her face. 

I mulled those same thoughts in my mind as I stood in front of the coffee maker, teeth caught between my teeth, trying to figure out who that mystery woman was that darted into the alley when I caught her following me. 

“Maybe she works with Clint,” I muttered to myself, pouring a rather large cup of coffee. 

My third one in a few hours. 

The morning slowly spilled into the early afternoon and I had done a great job in avoiding Bucky and Steve, not ready to face the latter. Though, I knew that at some point I would have to talk to him, to let him know how I felt. 

“Hey,” a soft voice sounded behind me. 

Fuck, I didn’t mean right now.

I sighed, giving Steve a small smile. “Hi.” 

“Bucky told me what happened,” Steve said while running a hand through his hair. 

“I’m okay,” I assured him, noticing how worried he was. “Clint didn’t hurt me.” 

“I promise you; I paid him off. Bucky handed me the money and I brought it to Clint’s house. He gave me his word that the hit is off,” he assured me. 

I gave him a firm nod. “Steve, you don’t need to prove yourself. I believe you.” 

His shoulders relaxed a bit before I felt his fingers grasp at my own, pulling me towards his office. “Can we talk, in private?” 

Biting the inside of my cheek, I knew that this conversation would happen eventually and now would be the best time to get it over with. No more avoiding it. 

“Sure.” 

I let Steve gently pull me into his office and once the door was closed, he motioned for the couch that sat in place on the other end of the room. We both sat, with some distance between us. 

He ran a hand over his beard and let out a deep breath. “I wanted to apologize. You’re going through a lot right now and I shouldn’t have added more by kissing you.” 

I place a hand on his knee. “I wanted that kiss just as much as you did, Steve.” 

His face brightened. “You did?” 

“Yeah. We’ve been doing this dance for months now, it was only a matter of time.” 

Steve sighed. “But-.” 

My heart stung when I realized he had a hint of what I was going to say, his tone of voice sounding so broken. 

This time I linked our hands together. “I don’t think it’s fair to you to be with you if I’m not 100 percent committed to you. You don’t deserve that.” 

Steve’s blue eyes twinkled under the light from his office. “But you do?” 

I blinked, a bit caught off guard, and didn’t know how to answer him only because he was right. Why did I deserve to be with someone that wasn’t committed to me? 

“I can’t explain it,” I admitted with a shrug. “There’s something about him that it’s hard to let go.” 

Steve lifted my chin when I looked down ashamed. “Don’t feel sorry for me, Y/N. I’m used to losing girls to Buck.” 

“Do you hate me?” I asked with a shaky breath. 

“I could never hate you.” 

We gazed into each other's eyes and even with the magnetic pull I felt bringing me in closer to him, I fought against it by placing a gentle kiss on his cheek. 

“You’re a good man, Rogers,” I breathed against his skin. 

The bright glow of the moon spilled through the large windows of the building and with a low breath, I packed up my things purposely taking my time. I had to leave, go home for the night, but I was afraid of walking to my car alone with what happened this morning. 

Steve had left a few hours ago, with a quick wave but broken eyes, and it did nothing to mend the hurt I felt in my stomach. It made me sick, knowing I caused him that pain. 

I glanced over to the office behind me, the man lounging on his couch with his head resting against the back of it, eyes shut in quiet solace. 

We spent the majority of the day avoiding each other but now that I needed to ask him a huge favor, I wasn’t quite sure on how Bucky would answer. 

A gentle tap sounded on the frame of his door causing him to open his eyes, small smile pulling at his lips. 

“Headed out?” Bucky nodded to my purse and jacket. 

I nodded. “I know I’ve been avoiding you all day so feel free to say no.” 

With his own nod, I continued. “Would you mind walking me to my car?” 

“Of course, doll.” 

Bucky’s smile warmed my heart, and I waited patiently as he slipped on his leather jacket. “Ready?” 

“Yea,” I smiled. 

The cold night air wrapped around us and I made an effort to bring my jacket closer to me, in hope of creating some sort of heat. Bucky noticed and wrapped an arm around my shoulder to pull me closer. The warmth that radiated from him quickly spread to my own body and I silently moaned at the feeling. 

“Bucky?” 

My voice was quiet but he still heard, his hand squeezing my shoulder. “You alright, doll?” 

We came to a stop in front of my car and I avoided leaving; not before telling him exactly how I felt about everything. 

My palm rested against his cheek, his plump lips pressing a kiss upon the skin there and the butterflies that laid dormant the last few days began to flutter to life. 

“I don’t want to get hurt,” I made known. 

Bucky nodded in my grasp. “I don’t want to hurt you, doll.” 

“I like you a lot, Bucky.” 

He quickly brought me closer to him, our nose grazing against one another. 

“The feelings are mutual.” 

His voice was deep which made my core itch with desire. 

Bucky began digging around in his pocket and placed a small, white card in my hand. As the words burned into my brain, my lips curled up in a smile.

Matt Murdock. New York’s Best Divorce Lawyer.

“A divorce?” I questioned, with so much optimism. 

He answered my question by capturing our lips together, his own feeling so soft and tasted like the bourbon I saw him drink earlier in the night. Our bodies molded together, as they always did, and I nibbled on his bottom lip when he pulled away. 

“I’m hoping by the end of the month she’ll be served with the papers.” 

Tears brimmed in my eyes. “You’re really leaving her?” 

Vibranium fingers tucked a piece of hair behind my ear. “For you, Y/N. I’d do anything for you. The mere thought of possibly losing you to Steve was a wakeup call. I can’t lose you and I will do anything to keep you.” 

Our lips met in yet another heated kiss, Bucky pushing me up against the cold metal of my car and I looped my fingers into the belt loops of his pants to bring him closer to me, needing that reminder of how his cock felt pressed against me. 

We were so engrossed in each other, our possible future together, that neither of us felt the burning eyes from the figure that lingered in the darkness.

[wingedhallows]

traitor - ch. three ; sirius black

pairing: sirius black (golden trio era) x fem! oc | 2.1k words warning: dark themes, death, torture plot: Fourteen years ago, Hecate Hunt, a valuable member of the Order and once a Death Eater gave her life for her friends and the man she loved, at least that's what was believed. Now she's done hiding, ready to fight alongside her old friends and her godson. Ready to return to the life she once had, ready to once again be a traitor. authors note: hi, hi! thank you for reading :)

navigation | chapter one ; chapter two ; chapter three

“Your godson.” Albus spoke but paused, his hand rummaging through his pocket. “Harry?” He nodded and held a picture for you to take.

The picture showed a young boy, not older than fifteen with a broom in his hand. His friends next to him, cheering because of what you guessed was a win in Quidditch.

“He’s in grave danger, you see.” Your eyes were still glued to the picture, the way the boy resembled his parents.

You knew the broom, it looked familiar. In a matter of seconds it came to you, Sirius had bought his godson a broom when he was hardly a few months old.

He had claimed to teach him how to fly the stick and become just as great as his father. Remus and You had laughed at him, the thought of Sirius with his infant godson on a broom amused you.

“This was taken a few months back, I thought you might want to have it.” You nodded and gave Albus a small smile.

“Ron Weasly and Hermoine Granger, the kids to his left and right, are his friends. Both of them face the same danger.” You nodded and put the picture in your pocket.

“The Order will be reinstated, now that Sirius Black is proven innocent, to us at least.” He placed a parchment in Fawkes’ peak and sent him flying.

“Fudge is still in denial but there is something coming, something worse than last time.” 

You nodded and pushed a cigarette between your lips.

“We will bring you back, strengthen the Order and resume with our activities.” “I see.” You answered, as you blew some smoke.

“Come to Grimmauld Place tomorrow afternoon, you’ll have a lot of catching up to do.”

“Hecate?” You stopped dead in your tracks, eyes staring ahead.

“I knew it was too good to be true.”

You knew that voice, how could you not. “Snape.” You turned around, hands in your pockets. His face didn’t move, the same stoic look as ever.

“You’re alive.” You didn’t move a muscle, face cold as ice.

“You were hiding.”-”I was hiding, because Albus asked me to.” You took a step towards him, eyes boring holes in his.

“I was hiding because people like you wanted me dead.” He swallowed and took a step back, nose held high. “Good to see you haven’t changed.” You nodded and took a step back as well.

“Neither have you.” He didn’t answer. “Black escaped, I heard.” You frowned at him, at his trying to talk to you like you had before.

“And?” He clasped his hand behind his back, greasy hair flying in the slight breeze.

“Thought it might interest you.” You nodded, not answering. You pulled your pack of cigarettes from your pocket and lit a stick for yourself, you wouldn’t share, not with Snivellus.

It felt almost the same, the corridors of the castle you had wandered year after year without a care in the world. The breeze, the owls, but something was off. Of course, things have changed. Fifteen years went by, you were believed dead and Sirius wasn’t by your side, nor were any of your friends. 

“Can’t believe they let you teach.” You said, his gaze now on you. “Why?” Your lips formed into a cruel grin, the smoke filling your lungs once again.

“We both know why.” You said, air growing colder by the minute. He didn’t answer and kept his eyes away from you. “I’ll see you, Hecate.” You looked at him once again, your eyes in slits.

“I hope not.” You spoke before you watched him leave you behind. His dark hair and robes flying with each step dramatically. You hadn’t missed the sight of Severus, not since he had hurt you that night.

“Let’s get inside, it’s awfully cold out here.” Albus spoke, his wand extended to tap on the door. You knew this spell, he had used it before. The building started to rumble and within a few moments Sirius’ parents house appeared in front of you two.

Your hands were sweaty, your chest tight.

“The children are here too.” He said, opening the door. He let you in first and you took your scarf off, hanging it on the coat rack like you had done years before. The house hadn’t changed. It was still dark, cold and unwelcoming. You hated it when Sirius introduced you to his parents, when you got him out of that house when things got hard and you hated it now as well.

 Albus pushed past you and was welcomed with hello’s and big smiles. You heard his voice and your feet stopped working. You hid your hands in your pockets and took another step forward, Albus was waiting for you after all. The kitchen was lifely, filled with people and warm with all the buzz.

“I got someone to introduce.” Albus spoke, his hand extended to point at you.

You took another step and your frame came into light through the doorstep. The room stilled, not a word or movement. Your eyes found Remus’ first, who stared at you in disbelief. The kids, Harry and his friends stepped away from the table, watching the adults in wonder.

“I believe some of you know each other.” Dumbledore spoke as he sat himself down, a cup in front of him.

You tried to calm your heart, the adrenaline which rushed through your veins like speed. Minerva clasped a hand in front of her mouth and Moody huffed in disbelief.

“Hecate.”

You closed your eyes, desperate to get a grip, to not lose it. 

You took a breath and looked at him. It hit you like a truck. He looked older, broken. Azkaban does that to people, losing the woman you love does that, losing your friends does that. You gripped the lighter inside of your pocket for dear life, to keep you calm.

“Sirius.”

You said, voice merely a whisper. The cool demeanor has left you, all the masking of emotion has left you. He slowly lifted himself off the chair, the wood squeaking in the process. Harry stepped out of his godfather's way and watched you with wide eyes.

His hands found your elbows, his eyes stayed glued on your face. “Thank Merlin.” He whispered before he engulfed you in a bone crushing hug. One hand stayed on your back, the other cradled your head.

Soft sobs left your mouth as you hugged him back, hand on the back of his neck. His face hid in the crook of your neck, unsteady breaths hitting your skin. Albus cleared his throat and you tried to pull away but his hold on you didn’t budge, you couldn’t blame him.

“Love.” You said, only for him to be heard.

His eyes found yours as he lifted his hands to your face, rough thumbs caressing the skin beneath.

“Hecate.” You nodded and took a hold of his hands, guiding to the chair he had sat on before. Harry moves one chair over and let you sit down with Sirius in hand.

He didn’t let go and something about the way he stared at you, held your hand in an iron grip, told you that he would never let you out of his sight ever again. You didn’t mind, you thought.

“You have got to explain this, Albus.” Minerva spoke after she had sent a small smile your way. You’ve always liked Minnie the most, no other teacher was like her. After being a great teacher she became a friend, you had cherished your relationship with Minerva a lot.

“Of course.” Your hand found the goblet, which a red haired woman had placed in front of you. Sirius eyed you every other second and the others kept their gazes on you as well, not believing their eyes.

“Hecate was in grave danger, fifteen years ago.” He paused as you lowered your head, remembering the many weeks you had fought for your life. “As some of you know, there were several attempts of murdering her, to get rid of her.” You took a sip of your drink, the memories still hurtful.

“I had offered her help to go into hiding, to get away before anything could happen but Hecate was adamant to stay, to be by her friend's side. That night, when I had sent her on a mission I had a hunch, that one of us was talking to the dark side but I wasn’t sure-”You sent her out there, knowing that Peter would rat her out?” Sirius slammed his palm on the dark table, eyebrows furrowed as he stared at the old wizard.

“Sirius.” You tried, your hand on his shoulder. He briefly looked at you before his back connected with the rest of his chair with a huff.

“That was my mistake, I admit.” He paused, looking at you. You opened your mouth, ready to continue.

“Peter had indeed given the information to his little friends and I was ambushed.” You took the pack of cigarettes from your pocket and lit yourself one, desperate for nicotine.

“They kidnapped me and held me in a place I didn’t recognize. I don’t know how long I was there, nor do I remember everything that happened to me. I was tortured for information but I held through.” You took a drag, your eyes connecting with Sirius’. His hand found yours as he gave you a sorry look. You didn’t know how to react.

“Regulus Black helped me escape.” Sirius eyes widened, his hand retreated as he stared at you.

“What?” You nodded and took another drag. “Reggie felt sorry for me, he told me that he never wanted this for me. He had contacted Albus and helped me escape. I believe he paid a hefty price for that, I’ll forever be thankful for Regulus’ braveness.” Sirius rubbed his hands over his face. You took another sip from your cup and looked at the kid next to you. It was outright terrifying how much he looked like his parents.

He looked at you, face nervous and unsure. You knew Harry, of course you did. You were by Lily’s side when she gave birth to him. You held him more times than you could ever count, changed his diapers and fed him.

You watched his first steps and heard his first words. You were his godmother for fucks sake. So why did you feel so nervous?

“After my escape Albus sent me somewhere far away, I didn’t know where this place was and I didn’t make it very easy for anybody involved. I wanted out, I needed to be by your side, by Remus’, Lily’s and James’ side. I needed to know if you guys were alright. I rebelled, even though Albus wanted me to be safe.” You put your cigarette out and leaned back.

“Though I believe that things would’ve worked out better if I would’ve been there. Lily and James would still be alive.” Every person in the room seemed to flinch at the dead wizards' names.

“You don’t know that.” Minerva tried but you shook your head. You put your hand on the table as you looked at Albus. “I know you meant well, but you had no right to make that decision. I’ll hold this grudge till the day I take my last breath.” Albus nodded but didn’t speak a word.

“So you kept her away from us? Like a joker, to be played when you see fit?” Sirius spoke again, hands crossed. You eyed Dumbledore, the cigarette in your hand burning further and further. The smoke filled your lungs, a sip of firewhiskey followed.

“Hecate is still alive, that’s what’s more important.” He tried but Sirius shook his head, a chuckle left his mouth as he narrowed his eyes at the old wizard.

“She’s still alive because you have something planned, isn’t it?” Your hand found his arm and he calmed down, chest deflating with a flex of his jaw.

“Fact is that I’m alive because Albus saved me, which I’m thankful for, of course. However, that decision, to keep me hidden from my friends and you, was unrightful and I won’t forgive him for that.” He eyed you and let his fingers slip between yours. Albus didn’t argue and started to talk about the topics at hand.

The air was cold, the dark coat kept you from freezing. The cigarette in your hand burned with an almost inaudible sound as your eyes skimmed the dark night. The backyard was still the same. Sirius’ parents had mowed it all down and plastered the lawn with tiles, claiming that upkeep was too much work.

The door closed with a click and you turned around, cigarette still clasped between your fingers. There stood Harry, his arms in the pockets of his jacket.

“So, you’re my godmother?” Your lips formed into a smirk.

“And you’re my godson.”

( taglist: @caramelandvenus )

[noirvette]

WE NEVER EXISTED

[band smau]

[NINE]

masterlist.

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cws: | alcohol consumption

Loving you seemed so easy, it was something that just felt natural to Kyle. He wasn’t sure when his feelings for you became apparent to him, but he knows it was life altering. You became something to Kyle, not that you weren’t something to him before, but now it was almost as if you gave him the feeling as if he was to drink a bunch of energy drinks. You became a breath of fresh air, a new high score, an award, to Kyle. Something he wanted to fight for, something he wanted to run after, to strive for.

So when you announced you and Kenny were dating, an exact week before he was going to ask you out (he had even circled the date, which was when you and him first became lab partners in a chemistry class), he lost hope, in love. He closed himself off from girls’ affection, instead opting to not get close to a girl again. Sure, it was nice to receive love letters in his locker on Valentine’s Day or get slipped the phone number of the waitress who’s serving him and his friends at a restaurant, but they weren’t you; they weren’t your love letters, it wasn’t your phone number (he already had your phone number but that’s neither here nor there).

Now, it’s been three years, of pining after you, of loving you, and Kyle still couldn’t let you go. He thinks that Kenny’s been changing on you, he doesn’t know why, he isn't even confident in that idea, but he’s determined to figure it out. The only issue is Kyle is laying on his bed, drunk and he knew he wasn't in the state of mind to even logically be thinking. In his drunken state, maybe Kyle was just pretending to see signs that weren't there out of jealousy.

This is why he doesn’t even like drinking, Kyle starts randomly speculating and then starts to hate himself for his own thoughts. But he can't help but down the bottle of liquor, not after seeing you with Kenny today, how loving you two were, he can’t help but wonder that in his love stricken clouded mind, if he was hating on Kenny so much solely because of jealousy. Maybe Kenny really was going through some issues of his own right now, maybe nothing is going on behind the scenes. “Maybe,” Kyle thought, “I’m the issue, here. Y/n has a great relationship, it’s not with me, but..she’s happy. That’s all I wanted her to have.”

And you are! You are happy, at least Kyle can only assume that after viewing your latest instagram post. Happy people, scratch that, happy couples, post things like that, miserable love sick losers who drink their life away after watching the girl of his literal dreams date one of his closest friends. Kyle groans, setting the liquor bottle on down on his night stand, and sits up. Putting his head in his hands he tries desperately to sober up.

“Jesus christ, I sound like Stan right now.” Kyle murmurs, he grabs the water bottle on his night stand, nearly knocking the liquor bottle off in the process, “Thank god for sober Kyle thinking of this,” he mentally notes, and takes a long sip. Besides him his phone goes off and he picks it up once more. Some of his twitter post notifications are going off and he scowls at the thought of opening up Twitter. Yet he does so anyway.

Kyle doesn’t know what exactly possessed him to check twitter; of all the social media he owns, Twitter was the worst of them all for him. Twitter meant he could see all the fans constantly talking about him, talking about you…talking about you and Kenny. Kyle groans and debates downing more alcohol to allow him to forget all about you and Kenny, until he sees a notification for a DM from Twitter. Kyle was used to DMs, some were fake scam messages about seeing if the band would perform for some “event”, some were those stupid influencers gushing about whatever was happening, and most were fans. Maybe it was the alcohol talking, maybe it was the need to escape from his shit filled life, or maybe it was just plain pure curiosity, but Kyle decided to open the DM. He was not expecting the messages he saw.

Well that certainly sobered Kyle up. He crosses his legs and frowns.

“What the fuck?” Kyle whispers to no one, dumbfounded, “who the hell is this?” Whenever Kyle tries to click on the profile, twitter shakes him off, just sending him right back into the DM messages with the account. The absurdity of this situation grips Kyle’s attention and he wasn’t fully sobered up, he definitely is now.

He was weighing his options on whether or not it was worth it to respond, taking a shot in the dark he decided he might as well. At the very least he could try and find out who owns this account. In the back of his mind there was a nagging feeling that this account was Cartman and his stupid ass just pulling a prank on him, but the idea that it might not be either was enough to make him really respond.

Kyle was bewildered. He had no idea what to even think as he read the messages over and over again. The account was still unaccessible and he had no way of finding who this was, there wasn't even a name at the top of the DM either. He had no idea what was planned at noon, and he had no idea what to suspect.

He just hoped he wouldn't wake up to being exposed and seeing his name trending.

TAGLIST: @captivq @kimiesstuff @bwljules @the-cooler-kira @1one1person1 @kenny-the-ken @neenieweenie @n0tangeliccc @revzxn @mirophobic @gonefiishiing @musiclovebot @bootsieboo @bonez4brainz @4xbei77 @1996kj @sweetadonisbutbetter @scinclaitnoir @okarigold

[d1ana-m0nd]

╭─► ❝Hey Lover!❞

Tao × Gender Neutral! Reader || Written by Diana (d1ana-m0nd) || Inspired by Hey Lover

➢ Fluff && Not Proofread , Headcannons && Word Count 1,734

➢ You were suffering under the weight of financial struggles until a maga came along and held your family hostage. Who would have thought the person you would be double crossing is someone who you'd gain interest for.

➢ NOTE : The scene of you trying to sacrifice the troubleshooters is inspired by CSM and if ever I refer to the reader with She/Her pronouns please let me know so I can edit it out, thanks!

HOW YOU GUYS MET:

Tao met you in the streets, you both happened to walk past each other that fateful day she didn't have work.

You were neither a sex worker nor a homeless person but she knew you needed help. She could tell from your eyes that you were living in fear with every step you took.

Despite being strangers, she approached you and asked if you needed help. You turned her offer down but then she ended up giving you the troubleshooters business card, to which you reluctantly accepted.

Ever since your encounter with her, you found yourself in a conundrum. She was right on the money that you needed help but, her help was something you didn't need… you weren't even sure if her help could be of use to your situation.

In the end, you gave in and decided to use her help but knowing people like her (To you, at the time she seemed like a loan shark of sorts who are preying after people with financial issues) you'll instead play her at their own game.

You hired the troubleshooters to help kill the maga who was threatening to kill your entire family. When in reality, you planned to use them as an offering to the maga in exchange for your family.

What you didn't expect was for her partner, Alma, to catch on to your lie through his sense of smell.

Out of guilt, you admitted to them everything. Both of them seemed used to being double crossed yet, they still gave you a second chance. Once they were done with the job, Tao didn't ask for a fee but she did ask you to work for Auntie instead.

"Why'd you offer them to work for Auntie's? They tried to kill us! How'd you know they won't do it again?" Alma interrogated his stoic female partner but she seemed indifferent to his questions.

"They won't." Tao reassured though, she isn't even sure about that herself, maybe she just wanted to see you again…

"Their cooking will probably kill us!" Alma screamed, though it sounded more like it was his problem rather than everyone else's.

ㅤ

HOW YOU GUYS ENDED UP FALLING IN LOVE:

Once you began working for Auntie, you were overwhelmed by their friendliness, everyone was so nice to you… The guilt of almost killing their friends was making it difficult to concentrate.

It didn't help that Tao and Alma went to the restaurant everyday, it was becoming more and more difficult to avoid them.

Until one day, Yaya had to take a sick leave, so you and Alma were forced to work together to cater to every customer. Unfortunately, you had to cater to someone you have been avoiding… Tao.

Her eyes widened slightly at the sight of you but quickly covered it up with a small cough. "I'll have the usual."

"I don't know your usual… this is my first time serving you." You said with a sheepish smile.

"Oh, right." She internally cursed, realizing she forgot that you have been avoiding her for months.

After that awkward interaction, Alma then began to go out of his way to make you and Tao talk more, because he was fortunate enough to witness you and Tao being awkward with each other.

Ever since he began working with you, he finally understood why Tao wanted to keep you around. You were hard working and you cared a lot about your family, you probably just stumbled upon the troubleshooters at the wrong place and wrong time, if you guys met in different circumstances. You three probably would have gotten along on the fly.

Since then whenever he was with Tao, he'd quickly ask for you to serve them before you could run off. If he's on shift, he'd tell you that Tao's table hasn't been catered to yet.

It was a slow process but you two managed to slowly become comfortable with each other - though it was mostly on your end because you were the one running away from Tao out of guilt and shame. Whilst Tao was trying her best to not make you feel more guilty than you already did.

Slowly but surely you began to gain interest in Tao. Even Auntie and Yaya noticed - only because you always did something stupid like stumbling upon your words or tripping when you see Tao walk in - though it took Alma a while to notice this. Well, he more or less found out about your infatuation for Tao because he asked you why you did those things around Tao specifically and you accidentally blurted out how you felt around Tao.

"[...] So yeah, she catches me off guard sometimes, y'know? Maybe I still feel guilty for what I did…" You rambled fidgeting with the rim of your apron, trying to figure out your feelings for Tao.

"I think I remember Yaya saying that's what you're supposed to feel when you are in love!" Alma happily exclaimed, which triggered a cold shiver to go down your spine.

You covered your face as you groaned. "That's even worse than I thought!"

Killing your crush on your first encounter? You sure made quite an impression.

After discovering your feelings, you made an effort to actively avoid Tao despite Alma and Yaya's efforts in trying to help you confess or get closer with Tao. Eventually, this did not go unnoticed by Tao, she wasn't bothered by your active evasion - she was irritated - which is why she ended up asking Auntie, Yaya, and Alma but they wouldn't budge. In the end, she ended up cornering you at the end of your shift.

You heaved a heavy sigh, tired from your shift obviously looking forward to falling face first onto the mattress.

"Long day, huh?" A familiar voice questioned, the very same voice that made your legs weak as noodles in hot water.

"Woah-" You jumped but quickly stiffened yourself. "Hey Tao! Didn't see you there."

"I don't plan on revealing myself to begin with, especially to my prey." Tao teased but you didn't catch onto it.

You cringed, recalling how you confessed to them that you planned to use them as offering to the maga in exchange for your family.

"I'm sorry…"

The female troubleshooter sighed then voiced her concern. "Have you been avoiding me because you still feel guilty about what happened in the past?"

"What happened in the past, stays there. We're in the present now. So let go of what's already out of reach."

Alarmed by her words, you began to ramble. "It's not that- I MEAN THAT'S PARTIALLY THE REASON! But, it's something else…"

"Is it because you like me?" Tao said with a smirk, which froze you on the spot. "If you thought you were slick, you weren't. And no, Alma didn't snitch on you."

"WELL THEN!" You shouted then began stiffly walking away. "I'm heading home now, I have other things to tend to!"

"Y/N, stop running away from your problems. I understand it's natural human instinct but, how would you know how I feel about you? Just because you expect the worst out of everything doesn't mean it'll happen." Her words punched you in the gut, you hated how she was right…

"Now, are you going to confess to me or not?" You could tell from her voice that found your predicament quite amusing and it irked you.

"WHY DO I HAVE TO CONFESS!? Why don't you do it yourself since it seems like you already have everything figured out." You huffed out of irritation, you faced her crossing your arms.

"Fine." Tao said, which caught you off guard. As she took slow strides towards you, it felt like a scene out of a documentary, a snake stalking its prey.

"I like you too. Now, do you want me to walk you home?"

ㅤ

HOW YOU GUYS SHOW AFFECTION TO EACH OTHER:

Words of affirmation

Most of the time you are too shy to compliment Tao but when you are in a dazed state, you tend to slip out a compliment or two.

Also, you don't really feel the need to share words of affirmation with her since she seems the type to be confident in herself and stands strong.

You, on the other hand, need a lot of words of affirmation, which Tao can cater to. She's oddly good at it. Most likely because she's had to deal with Alma and Nei, who always look forward to her compliments or words of affirmation.

Quality time

You and Tao neither have the time to spend together, including space since you both live with someone else.

Though not having quality time as much doesn't bother you guys but, you do check in on her from time to time including Alma in case they need something despite your financial problems.

Tao doesn't have the time to check on you but you guys try to cherish your time together at the Chinese restaurant you work in but Auntie always cuts it short, not wanting you to slack off during work hours, which Tao respects.

Physical touch

Believe it or not, you and Tao both suck at showing affection. Every time you try to kiss or hold her hand you either chicken out or Tao doesn't reciprocate your actions.

While Tao, on the other hand, is not comfortable with PDA. It's a different story when you guys are alone, she tries her best to be affectionate but there are times she withdraws due to her past.

Acts of service

You weren't the best cook, everyone knew that. But, what they didn't know was that you were determined, you tried to hone that skill everyday, just so you can prevent Tao and Alma wasting a lot of money on food.

Which is why they always find your food in their office, no matter how bad it is (though most of the time it's a hit or miss) Tao eats it because she knows you'll do better with your next dish.

Receiving gifts

Due to your financial situation, you mostly make handmade gifts for Tao since that's what you are mostly good at.

Tao gifts you things that you mostly need since you never tell her what you want, just what you need to keep your family afloat. But, when you do manage to slip up, she won't hesitate to buy it on the spot.

➢ "Reblog to support your favorite writer" belongs to @/benkeibear

[dreamwrites]

“𝙈𝙚𝙢𝙤𝙧𝙞𝙚𝙨 𝙤𝙛 𝙎𝙤𝙧𝙧𝙤𝙬” — [ 𝙏𝙞𝙢𝙤𝙩𝙝𝙚𝙚 𝘾𝙝𝙖𝙡𝙖𝙢𝙚𝙩 ]

Word Count: 1083

Warnings: mentions of self-harm, blood, su1c1de

A/N: Sorry if there is more than one mistake, English is not my first language and I am still learning it. However, I hope you enjoy it and have a good time, thanks for reading! (:

"Name?"

His vision had become blurred long before he arrived at that place, he couldn't quite discern the lights and neither could he see the face of the person in front of him or whoever was holding his arm in an effort to keep him on his feet.

"What is your name?"

"Ti... his name is Chalamet. Timothee Chalamet." replied the figure holding him by the arm, their voice sounded broken and their eyes were flushed, as if they hadn't stopped crying all the way. Everything looked weird.

"Timothee Chalamet" repeated the nurse who was trying to fill out the sheet in her notebook. Then she looked at them again and spoke "Is that his own blood?"

The only thing the young man could hear was a muffled sob from his companion, however, the recently named could not ignore that his head hurt and that every time he breathed, a familiar smell flooded his nasal cavities, the smell was the same that the animals of the forest used to give off when his father killed them to hang their heads and turn them into a delicious dinner.

A negative movement came from the companion who still had no name, nor face. Hearing the next question, their body froze.

"Is the blood from a family member or friend?"

Another negative head shake. There was a short silence on the part of the nurse, who glanced at the young man who was staring at the ceiling with a frown on his face. He gave the impression that he was disoriented, detached from the situation.

"Has this event happened before?"

A negative movement.

"It's the first time... it's happened with so many people, so many..."

"Excuse me?"

Suddenly, Timothee started humming a children's song while his eyes were still focused on the worn and ruined roof of the establishment.

"Twenty people... twenty. We've never seen him behave like that, he's a good boy..." whispered his mother, while tears fell uncontrollably, soaking her cheeks. “He's a good boy! He's a good boy!" deep down, she knew she was living a desperate situation, where she was begging for some cure to get her beloved child out of hell.

The nurse watched her with frightened, almost disbelieving eyes and whispered in the same way, thinking she was going to try to calm the trembling woman in front of her. Her tightly clenched fists and her face covered in tears would accomplish nothing.

The boy released himself from her arm and took a few steps in the opposite direction. The humming of that childhood song could still be heard.

"Is he in shock?" asked the nurse, ready to continue her notes.

"It seems...I think...I think so. Yes." she replied, glancing at him constantly as she answered since she wasn't entirely sure either. "Can you get him a room?"

"We're on it, but first you need to answer a couple of questions."

Timothee began spinning in place, arms spread wide, never stopping humming. His mother answered each question as best she could. Timothee kept spinning, spinning, and spinning.

"Mom."

Both women turned in his direction, looking at the boy whose hair was now messy. His mother barely smiled at him and was trying to hold back new tears that had been threatening her from the beginning.

"Twenty-one people. Twenty-one people spun with me today, we spun and spun and spun until our feet were exhausted. We were twenty-one, mama."

"It's okay, honey. It's all right. It's okay."

The mother motioned for him to sit in one of the waiting room chairs, but after a few minutes, Chalamet jumped up from his seat and started spinning again, humming his song again.

"Mom."

"What's wrong, honey?"

Timothee stopped humming her song and twirling around with his arms open.

"Mom."

His mother couldn't help but smile, he almost never called her like that, he had the habit of calling her by her name. He had always liked to call people by their names. His mother smiled, but her smile didn't last long as her son didn't say a word. She could hear his heart beating wildly from the mixed feelings: joy, confusion, loss.

Her child said nothing, for the first time since they had arrived there, he just stared at her and when he deduced that it was enough, he began to spin again. This time, without singing anything.

The boy felt his mother's sigh when she heard the last question, at that moment he started humming something completely new and spinning, he started spinning much faster. Faster, faster. Extremely fascinated by what he was hiding in one of his pockets. Then, as he finished his last turn, it was he who spoke, leaving in evidence a new trail of blood flowing from his t-shirt.

"What a strange thing, isn't it? Death."

His mother ran, his mother screamed, grabbed her son in her arms, looking with horror and repulsion the cut her own son had done to himself: her eyes could see the raw flesh, the blood spurting out, and in between all that, embedded, she saw how a small piece of metal poked gracefully and without guilt out of his neck, proud of what it had done. The mother covered his neck with her hands, pressing down, in an attempt to stop the bleeding. In an attempt to stop a pool of blood that was gushing out, making its way across the cold floor tiles and holding the blood the woman was trying to cling to, as a reminder that they had once been one. She could hear her heart beating wildly at the mixed feelings: confusion, loss, anger.

"It takes away everything you once loved in the blink of an eye. In an instance, in a breath: your experiences, your feelings, your memories... everything, all of it disappears like dust. And just like that, you become part of a huge, miserable nothingness, as if you've never experienced life at all."

The young man stopped humming his childhood song. He stopped spinning and spinning, he stopped calling "mom" mom. It was as simple as closing his eyes and stop breathing; suddenly he stopped hearing his mother's heartbroken cries, stopped hearing his own voices, stopped feeling the hands pressing his chest with strong and continuous movements in an attempt to reanimate him, stopped feeling his cold body being lifted from the ground. It was as simple and easy as stopping breathing. It was as simple and easy as disappearing into eternity.

— 𝐝𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐦𝐰𝐫𝐢𝐭𝐞𝐬.

[elvenbeard]

2077, November

"Heeey... All good? What're you doing out here, so early?"

"Couldn't sleep... Wanted to watch the sun rise."

"Well, here I am!"

2077 was a hell of a year. It left its marks, mental and physical, trauma and scars alike, memories and lack thereof. A year ago Vince was working at Arasaka, desperate to stay in the corporate world despite it slowly destroying him from the inside out. A year later Arasaka is only a shadow of it former self - and in a way Vince felt like a shadow, too.

Six months had been Alt's prognosis, at most... then he'd die. For good this time. Vince knew the drill. But he also knew he would try everything in his power, utilize all means possible and necessary... Because yes, 2077 had been one hell of a year, of loss, despair, betrayal and pain... But also of hope, trust, friendship and love, and connections, however unlikely they may have seemed.

The road ahead is still long, and it will be far from easy. But he is at peace knowing he won't be walking it alone.

Vince through the years (9/9)

Aaand the series is complete! ;A; Ending it on a somewhat bittersweet note with a few of more pictures this time cause look at them looking at each other ;___;

Vince has always been a deeply lonely person trying to find his place and purpose - as you'll surely have gathered reading along this far. By 2077 he finally finds his people, real friends in the most unlikely places, that he cares about and that care about him. And after how badly his previous relationship with his Arasaka-coworker Shou ended, he wouldn't have expected to get another shot at love, too. I definitely feel like he found a soulmate in Kerry, very scared in the beginning that his feelings for him were only brought on because of Johnny, and should he get rid of Johnny he'd also lose the connection to Kerry. He didn't though, thankfully. Vice versa, Kerry found someone who really understands his loneliness and struggles and takes them seriously. They really match very well on many levels and bring out the best in the other (on most days at least :P), something I neither planned for nor expected, and probably why I'm so obsessed with them at the moment XD They really are each other's sun, driving away shadows and doubts, a light in the darkness.

But yeah, Vince has a lot to lose really, and together with Kerry and everyone else they try and find a way to solve the Relic-problem so now that he found his place and people he can stay with them, live the balance of quiet and exciting life he deserves and always wished for.

The scars I gave him here (and damn, it hurt me to make them 😭) are not 100% canon yet... I'm gonna explore and explain what they are and how he got them in my post-ending fic soon-ish.

But yeah... V gets his happily ever after with his loved ones, in one way or another, and CDPR can take my headcanons from my cold dead hands xDD No but really, I get it. In a world like Cyberpunk there's no such thing as a sunshine-and-rainbows happy ending with world peace and all... and even mine is gonna come at a certain cost. But if anyone, V deserves some peace and love after that shitshow :D

That being said:

Before and after! The scars are drawn on, and I used the relief layer effect in Photohsop to give them some dimension. Was really a matter of playing around with colors and layer modes to make them somewhat convincing looking, but I'm really liking the result a lot!

Once again it gets me how different Vince looks without his iconic hair and makeup 😭 Believe me, he had a really really hard time when he was told "we gotta shave your head for this procedure" cause throughout his life his hair has been a really important part of his self-expression. From dyeing it blond as a teen to rebel against his parents, to going completely wild afterwards, conforming to Arasaka, then slowly finding himself again... With everything gone he felt like yet another part of him was gone and yeah... wasn't a good time, that time in late 2077.

If you've read along all the way: thanks so much!! I hope you enjoyed this series as much as I enjoyed creating it and sharing a bit more about Vince's background and how he became who he is. When I'm done writing my post-ending fic I might go back to writing and sharing his background story fic, detailing everything from this series a bit more, and you'll get to know some of the people I only mentioned in passing (his mother, his first real boyfriend, his coworkers, etc.) a bit better, too.

So... Thanks for sticking around!! :D