#reader interaction makes the writer brain go | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

neuvistar · 6 months

Note

Biker! Dan heng, Sunday and aventurine?

Sfw and NSFW

Like I'm brain dead for them

DREAM RIDE. biker! honkai star rail men part one

— featuring ┊aventurine, sunday, (il) dan heng x fem!reader (all separate)

— warnings / content warnings ┊all consensual! sfw + nsfw, feminine terms used (she, girl, etc), cunniligus (aventurine #1 pussy eater strikes again), orgasm denial (sunday), jus a tad bit of subby dan heng, semi-public s3x? (sunday), blowjob (dan heng), use of vibrators (sunday), riding (dan heng) use of nicknames, multiple orgasms, bath s3x (aventurine), sunday is a MENACE here, reader implied 2 be a lil smaller than them, v4ginal fingering (aventurine), more tba! | 18+ MINORS DO NOT INTERACT.

— a/n ┊NOT PROOFREAD ! might correct tmr if i’m not sleepy! <3 anyways hi guys writers block stopped biting my ass anyways guys i’m SOOO attracted 2 aventurine it’s acc insane he needs to be jailed from how majestic he is.. erm! whoever keeps sending asks abt biker! hsr men god bless u and ur entire family | reblogs r appreciated

⊹ 𝐀𝐕𝐄𝐍𝐓𝐔𝐑𝐈𝐍𝐄

sfw.

⊹ BIKER!AVENTURINE who would take you out for late night rides! he’s a total drama queen, let’s get that out of the way. he loves you, yes, but he’d get so pouty whenever you turn him down for your daily night rides with him, he sulks and sulks.. clinging onto your figure until you finally say yes! jokes aside, aventurine really does enjoy your company, he really does value quality time as he would go as far to even take you out to see the stars, feel the breeze and have some fresh air, or just have a midnight snack!

“come on, baby.. 2am is nothing! just come and ride with me for a bit, i promise i’ll have you back til 3?”

⊹ BIKER!AVENTURINE who always finds himself buying you gifts before visiting you and such! sometimes he’d just be riding around on the road and all of the sudden his hands are full of bags and gifts just for you before he gets to your place! he’s a huge gift giver, spoiling you to the brim.

“would [name] like this one.. no no, maybe this one. hm.. maybe both.”

⊹ BIKER!AVENTURINE who can be insecure at times, sometimes he thinks about whether he’s truly right for you or not. like, usually he wouldn’t give in to these thoughts but there are times where he’s just riding around at night n he suddenly stops n goes.. “what if [name] is bored of me?” even though he might not show it, poor thing needs A LOT and i mean A LOT of reassurance from you, please tell him he’s good enough for you!

“my darling.. are you sure i’m right for you? i mean, you know. i’ve just been.. thinking. you’re not gonna leave, are you.. hm? ‘gonna stay with me, right?”

nsfw.

⊹ BIKER!AVENTURINE absolutely loves having sex while you both take bubble baths, i mean.. it’s essential to have good hygiene, isn’t it? aventurine pumped his fingers within your pussy, circling his thumb over your clit as he licked his lips, nuzzling close against your neck. “mmh.. you like that?” his voice, husky and low as his fingers reached the deepest parts of your cunt, a sharp gasp caught in your throat as he held you firmly against him. watching you struggle to stifle your moans made him feel a combination of pride and surprise. aventurine gripped your waist lightly, offering support and reassurance. "damn, sweetheart.. are my fingers that good?" he murmured, his voice low and steady.

aventurine growled softly, pleasure coursing through him at your reaction. his fingers deeply thrusted in and out of you, feeling your tight walls spasm around his digits. with a lick of his lips, he added another finger within your drenched pussy.. the sound of water splashing against his fingers, his speed rising more and more.. stretching you delicately. "missed this," he groaned, adding more speed to his rhythm. "missed the way your body responds to me, my darling girl..” his eyes locked onto yours, seeing the desire mirrored back at him. he wanted to make you cum, that was his goal for the night.. to hear you scream his name again. the roughness of his fingers grew, the sounds of water splashing against his hand was enough to embarrass you, aeons.. he was going fast alright. “c’mon, sweetheart.. it’s been ages since i made you squirt. mmh.. these fingers are good enough to make you squirt, right?”

⊹ BIKER!AVENTURINE who would eat you out almost all the time, whether it’s on his motorcycle seat while he holds your body, or maybe his table filled with tools, or just a plain old bed. aventurine is willing to eat you out literally anywhere, his tongue piercing made it even better. aventurine savoured every second of this, allowing his senses to be consumed by your intoxicating flavour. your body trembled above him, carefully laid on the seat of his motorcycle as he chuckled against your pussy.. your hands buried in his hair as he delved deeper into your depths. the blonde’s tongue danced expertly, exploring every hidden crevice while his fingers played with your swollen bud. “you taste divine," he murmured against your sex, causing you to arch your back sharply. "just like the finest wine, only better." his words hung heavy in the air between them, fuelling your rising passion.

aventurine attacked your cunt hungrily, devouring your folds with complete vigor. aeons, he was obsessed with your pussy, and your taste. the way your wetness spilled out onto his tongue, mixing with the warm atmosphere surrounding the both of you drove him crazy. his large hands held you firmly against the seat of his motorcycle, hands roamed freely over your body, tweaking one of your nipples roughly while diving deeper inside your drenched pussy. your boyfriend groaned into your folds, feeling your walls tremble around him. “good darling.. such a good girl taking my tongue so well.” “.. ‘turine.. you’re gonna make me fall on here.. j—just eat me out on the desk..” you murmured, wincing when you felt a slap on your pussy. “whoops, sorry angel,” ugh.. this tease. “mm.. no-can-do, sweetheart. i like seeing you like this. just imagine, my cum leaking out of your pussy and right onto my bike.” he licked a single stripe on your cunt, chuckling when he noticed your legs quivering. “oh how fascinating would that be.”

⊹ 𝐒𝐔𝐍𝐃𝐀𝐘

sfw.

⊹ BIKER!SUNDAY who has a habit of grabbing onto your waist, or just snaking his arm around it! i mean, he does this for many reasons.. one, to show you’re taken, and two, mm.. he just feels like it! sunday would do it on random occasions, whether he’s talking with his biker friends, at the cashier, anywhere! he loves grabbing your waist and he makes that very clear, maybe if he’s in the mood.. he’d slide his hand beneath your shirt as well wink wink

sunday glanced at your form, a small smile forming on his face when he saw you examining your surroundings. he snaked an arm around your waist, pulling your body firmly against his.

⊹ BIKER!SUNDAY who’s jealousy is intense. sunday would get angry at you, give you the silent treatment, or just bluntly ignore you if you were found talking and laughing with another guy other than him. he refuses to believe that you can be happy with other guys other than him. he would glare at other people he catches staring at what’s his, he was.. possessive. and whenever you catch sight of it, he would try and manipulate you to thinking he’s doing it for your own good! because all those men that were staring at you were bad! (wow, he’s a bastard) saying this, he’s a huge manipulator.. it can be a handful dating him.

“trust me, my love. can’t you see how those men were staring at you?” his voice was soft, dangerously soft. the malicious glint in his eyes didn’t hide anything. “they’re after you, angel. they’re after what’s mine. i’m only trying to protect you. why are you so doubtful of me, hm? do you not love me anymore? are you perhaps.. bored of me?”

⊹ BIKER!SUNDAY who loves being in control, this can be taken in a sexual or non sexual sense <3 sunday is assertive, and he knows what’s right for you. (most of the time!) he can be a bit controlling at times, but he means no harm! he just wants to keep you safe, promise! sometimes sunday would give you that look whenever you would try n defy him, he means business.. trust me. because of this, he can be cold and stubborn towards you at times without even knowing, geez.. he really needs to work on that.

nsfw.

⊹ BIKER!SUNDAY loves being in control, as i’ve mentioned.. but especially in bed. besides that, he’s so damn mean.. he doesn’t let you cum unless he tells you to, kissing your tears away with his lips. “ah ah ah, darling.. what did i say about cumming?” his eyes devoured your small frame, taking in every curve and angle of your body. sunday couldn't help but feel a surge of dominance and control over you, chuckling lowly. you was his, every fiber of your being was his, and he'd take care of you properly. his thrusts were hard to take in, his size and speed.. aeons. the way his cock slides in so easily had him biting his lip, he’s so mean and strict whenever you both make love, spanking you a few times whenever he sees you dozing off!

his eyes never left yours, even when he would immediately pull out when you were on the verge of orgasming, earning a sweet whine from your lips. “please.. please let me cum! sunday, baby please.. i can’t hold it anymore!” oh, how if only you knew how much he loves it when you beg. “oh baby.. i love it when you beg like that.” sunday groaned deeply from pleasure, landing another smack to your ass.. grinning at the sight of you swirling beneath him, “it only makes me wanna do this more.. it makes me wanna keep you here, stop you from cumming all over my cock. do you want that?” “n—no please.. please let me cum, sunday.. i need it—“ “keep begging, my angel. maybe i’ll let you cum if you keep begging and whining for me. come now, speak up.”

⊹ BIKER!SUNDAY who absolutely loves using vibrators on you whenever you both go out together, it’s amusing to him! (stupid bastard) he would increase it’s speed at random times to catch you off guard.. for his own amusement. listen, you really love your boyfriend but sometimes you just wanna slap that stupid smile off his face. you were casually picking out some candy in the candy aisle, a soft smile on your face before you felt that same old sensation within you.. causing a gasp to leave your pretty lips. “mm.. what are you looking at here, my love?” sunday murmured softly, chuckling at your vulnerable state. “sunday.. lower the speed please..” you begged, aeons! you were stupid to even think he’d decrease it’s speed!

your boyfriend smirked, the vibrator’s speed only grew more by the second as you could feel the wetness of your pussy seep through your panties, filling you with humiliation and embarrassment as you could barely walk, holding your hand over your mouth. “fuck.. sunday please..” you knew begging wasn’t gonna get you anywhere.. you knew you would have to have that stupid thing inside you for hours on end, overstimulating your pussy and entire body while your boyfriend watched and held you with pure amusement. to your bewilderment, there were times where sunday would go as far to fingering you by a nearby alleyway, his hands drenched in your juices. this man.. you wanted to be mad at him but you couldn’t bring yourself to be. sunday’s pretty fingers dug deep into your drenched pussy, knuckles deep while he had that same stupid sadistic smile on his face. “i should put that thing in you more.. look how wet your pussy is. it’s practically drooling for me, angel.”

⊹ 𝐈𝐋 𝐃𝐀𝐍 𝐇𝐄𝐍𝐆

sfw.

⊹ BIKER!DANHENG who is more of a private relationship typa guy, he prefers to keep his relationships private! despite this, he still shows his love for you in many other ways, it’s easy to say that some people are even surprised he was dating you, because of how reserved he is when it came to personal matters <3 he values his and yours’ privacy, you can trust me on that!

⊹ BIKER!DANHENG who struggles putting on his helmet because of his horns (lol), you find it really cute! whenever he leaves your house, sometimes he takes 10 minutes trying to figure out how to wear a helmet because of his horns. he found this so annoying to the point he probably had a custom helmet made for him and his horns!

you nearly let out a giggle when you gazed at him, struggling to wear his helmet over his head. dan heng’s tail swished against his leg, glancing up at you with a slight frown. “[name], it’s not funny.”

⊹ BIKER!DANHENG who would teach you how to ride a motorcycle so you and him can ride around together, i mean.. you can’t blame him! he doesn’t show it much, but he really does hope to spend more time with you, and he thinks this is effective and efficient! dan heng would guide you through it slowly, keeping his hands on your waist while he helped your practice with the brakes and all you needed to know! to be honest, this was really just an excuse to touch you, but can you blame him? his large hands would brush against your hips, helping you adjust and sit properly, it’s a good thing these things take awhile to learn!

“mhm, i got you.” his thumb rubbed circles on your hips, humming. “you’re a fast learner, [name]. you never fail to surprise me.”

nsfw.

⊹ BIKER!DANHENG who just loves having your pretty mouth wrapped around his cock after an exhausting day of biking all day and night. soft gasps and whimpers left his lips as he showed a completely different side of him that night, full of pure desperation and need. “am i.. doing this right?” your voice was muffled against his dick, sending vibrations to his nerves as his hand was carefully placed atop of your head, body aching for release. “yes.. keep sucking me off like that..” with a grunt, he closed his eyes briefly while savouring the warmth of your tongue tracing circles around the sensitive slit.

"more please, baby..“ dan heng begged, arching his back slightly as your warm, wet tongue caressed the head of his cock, teasing him mercilessly before sliding down its veiny shaft. the sensation was foreign yet familiar, sending waves of pleasure coursing through his body. unable to resist any longer, he reached down, gripping your hair tightly as he thrusts his hips upward, pushing deeper into your waiting mouth.his breathing became heavier, the sound of each labored gasp echoing in the otherwise silent room, punctuated by the sloppy sounds of your mouth working him over. your tongue swirls around the base of his cock, teasing the sensitive area underneath his balls before returning to suck and stroke him feverishly. “you’re so good to me.. s.. so good to me..”

⊹ BIKER!DANHENG who would let you ride him just like how he lets you ride his motorcycles! he just wants to put your pleasure first, really. dan heng’s mind raced as he watched you ride him. he was going to lose it, he knew it very well. the sight of you bouncing on his cock, your pussy coating his cock with pure white juices, the sound of your gasps, and the feeling of your breasts against his chest created a whirlwind of emotions. he watched you struggle to stifle your moans while gripping your waist lightly, offering support and reassurance. "you’re doing great, love. fuck.. take your time and do what feels good," he encouraged, his voice low and steady.

he hoped his presence provided comfort, guiding his precious girlfriend to enjoy the sensations without feeling pressure to perform. their bodies moved in harmony together, lust fuelled by the thrill of victory as dan heng’s breaths grew ragged. his face flushed at the sight of your breasts bouncing, biting his lip at how overwhelming this was.. the sound of skin slapping against each other was all that came through, their moans punctuated the intensity of their shared moment. your hands grabbed everywhere.. his biceps, his chest, and oh.. even his horns. he was absolutely losing it. “sh—shit.. use my cock, use my cock for your own pleasure, beloved.. you’re doing so well..”

@ NEUVISTAR. do not plagiarize, claim my work as your own, translate or share my posts on any platform outside of tumblr.

#ᖭི༏ᖫྀ maryse’s diary ૮꒰˶˃̵ ^ ˂̵˵꒱ა #ᖭི༏ᖫྀ maryse answers ૮꒰ྀི∩´ ᵕ `∩꒱ྀིა #aventurine <33 #sunday <33 #il dan heng <33 #honkai star rail #hsr smut #hsr x reader #sunday x reader #aventurine smut #honkai star rail smut #dan heng x reader #hsr x you #sunday smut #sunday x you #aventurine x reader #dan heng smut #dan heng x you #aventurine x you

3K notes · View notes

heartthrobin · 2 months

Text

all's fair in love and war (2)

oliver wood x female!reader

wc: 7.87k

warnings: enemies to lovers, still so damn much pining, set in poa, timeline is a bit wonky, limited use of y/n, archie being my fav oc, cheese fest

an: literally fell asleep on my laptop last night editing this, i was so exhausted from school so i’m sorry it’s late !!! but i had the most fun in the world writing this and i hope everyone enjoys :)) don't forget to comment and repost your favourite writers

summary: Oliver is still impossibly miserable, maybe more uncooperative than before, except now when you look at him: you can't think of much else beyond how sweet his lips tasted.

part one

You can’t sleep.

You're not sure you'll find sleep ever again.

“I knew it, I knew it—“ Cherry had bounced the whole way to your dormitory, howling into your ear. “I knew it!”

The image of Oliver’s fluttering eyes swum around your brain as you blinked into the darkness of the poster bed. The taste of his tongue and his words still right against your lips.

It was a riddle of a calibre that you can’t seem to detangle. More than anything, you try to remember how strong has he tasted of Firewhisky - was he so drunk to really dismiss it to nothing at all?

You lingered on it all weekend.

Cherry didn’t help at all — he’s been in love with you forever, that’s literally so obvious — and Enzo even less so once he’d been filled in: Oliver doesn’t seem a bloke who let’s alcohol make his decisions for him, something about Scottish genetics I think.

The interaction plagued you: digging a wide hole in the base of your stomach. You mourned the thought that you may never have the opportunity to kiss those soft lips again, more than anything: preparing yourself for the feud between yourselves to worsen.

There’s barely enough time to make sense of your situation before you’re racing down over the grassy hills of the grounds, bag swinging violently over your shoulder and extraordinarily late for your Herbology lesson in the greenhouse.

Your morning alarm had rung right into one ear and out the other, a product of the tossing and turning you’d been doing for the last two nights.

When you swing the greenhouse door open, panting and face flush from the beating sun, the whole room turns to you. Sprout pauses where her hands are flailing in explanation.

“Sorry I’m late professor,” you wheeze, readjusting your strap over your shoulder.

Cherry is smirking at you from her bench, sidled up with Jane Emmet.

It hadn’t escaped you that you’d be sharing the lesson with the Gryffindors, but you’d precious little time to worry about it in the five minutes you had to pull a robe over your head and stick a toothbrush into your mouth.

Your eyes are purposeful in not looking over the room. Scared to catch the wrong eyes.

“Not a problem peach, we’re just repotting some Fire-Seed Bushes.” She brings a stubby hand to her chin, “uhm … well, Mr Kumar there in the corner doesn’t have a partner. Go join him by his pots.”

Archie has a lopsided smile on his face when you approach, a thick black curl drooping over his left eye.

“Hey.” He nudges gently.

You set your bag down and grab a pair of gloves, chuckling. “Hey Archie.”

The soil is warm when you stick your fingers into the dirt, shifting it gently enough not to mess over the edge of the bucket. There’s a Fire-Seed Bush sitting tentatively at the end of the bench, spitting sparks and emitting smoke.

“So …” Archie speaks first, the back of his hand bumping yours between the black soil. “How was your weekend?”

It’s a veiled question, a poorly veiled one at that. The question draws a laugh from the base of your stomach.

You shrug, adamant on missing the point. “It was alright, I guess. How about yours?”

He shrugs right back. “Wasn’t the greatest. Penelope Clearwater rejected me for Percy Weasley.”

You don't mean to, you really don't, but it draws another bout of laughter out of you - you clap your hand over your mouth. “I’m sorry—“

“No, I get it. Percy bloody Weasley?” His brow is creased, dirt-stained hands rising messily from the soil to swipe at a fallen piece of hair in his face. “Dead sure that bloke's own mother can't say he’s handsome. I’m better looking than him, surely?”

There’s the hanging insinuation that it was rhetorical, but you reply anyways: “you’re definitely more handsome than Percy Weasley, Archie.”

His head cocks down at you, stained paws finding his waist and pressing black fingerprints into the red jumper. “You really think so?”

“Without a doubt.”

Archie smiles, bumping your side against his. You think he might be blushing. “You’re very charming. I understand what Oliver sees in you.”

You jolt involuntarily, spilling some black soil over the edge of the pot.

Swiping at the mess lazily, you play the comment off with another crumbly chuckle: hoping it convinces him more than it does yourself. “Oliver sees in me what a bull sees in a red cape.”

Archie’s reaching timidly for the Fire-Seed Bush, lifting it off the counter and holding the dangerous botanical at arm’s length. “Not true. The boy’s half in love with you.”

This conversation is getting awfully uncomfortable awfully quickly. It picks at your curiosity nonetheless.

“He said that?”

He’s quick to shake off the question, eyes still trained on setting the roots of the bush into the gap in the soil. “Oliver doesn’t have to say anything. He spends practically every fucking mealtime mooning over at your table, and he talks about you way more than necessary—“

“That’s just because I work on his nerves. Oliver doesn’t love me, he barely tolerates me.”

The boy turns on you, confusion set in his brow. “Why is this news? Last I saw you, your tongue was halfway into his stomach.”

Zachariah Smith and his Gryffindor partner look up at that. Your face goes hot all over - Archie doesn’t seem to notice.

“We were drunk.” You say softly, eyes stuck on a loose leaf crackling against the wooden counter.

There’s a special kind of fear that's crawling into your heart where you stand. The fear of putting too much faith into the words of Archie Kumar.

That it’s an elaborate ruse. A set-up, canons of confetti and a banner screaming “you’ve been fooled!” if you were to indulge his words. The danger of allowing your mind to drift too far off into the possibilities of a world wherein Oliver Wood doesn’t hate you - at least not as much as he lets on.

Archie looks at you out the side of his eye, you can feel it, but says nothing. He hands you a miniature yellow-handled spade.

Instead you fill the space. "I heard Isla Flynn has a crush on you."

He perks: "really?"

Across the room, Oliver is bumping elbows with Poppy Davis.

"Ow!"

A loose spark has evidently landed on her exposed arm. The sparks that Oliver was supposed to be watching for, the ones that he is intent on ignoring with the constant glancing back over his shoulder to where you and his best mate are in the corner of the room fucking giggling at each other like toddlers with a box of matches.

“Oliver — can you just focus for five seconds!” Poppy isn’t impressed.

Oliver isn’t either, with the situation as a whole. The pads of his fingers are blistered from the repotting of the bush and Poppy’s careless bumps and his general indifference to the task at hand.

It eats at his brain. What are you guys talking about? Is it about him?

You laugh again and it’s loud enough that it draws his shoulders all the way taut. There’s another snap of a spark and Oliver feels where it lands at his wrist, but he doesn’t react.

“Just pass me the bloody spade.” He grumbles.

The lesson passes more slowly than Oliver could swim shoulder-deep through molasses.

It feels like years later when he tosses his gloves into the box with the rest, when the class shuffles to return tools and begin slinging half-open bags over their shoulders.

Oliver doesn’t think he’s ever packed up faster - Poppy is still scowling at him, he doesn’t care - before he’s knocking through yellow and red tied students to find Archie’s head of curly black hair.

“Hey!” He catches him by the wrist, tugging on it like a dog with a bone. Archie jumps, eyes winding down to find his friend. “What did she say?”

You’re far ahead, Oliver can make out the back of your head: hips bumping with Cherry’s up the hill towards the castle.

Archie grins. “She said Isla Flynn has a crush on me.”

Oliver groans, “Not about that, you prat. About— wait, really?”

"Yeah!" He hikes his bag higher on his shoulder. "Can you believe it? She's got that hot Irish accent and everything."

Oliver nods, "Yeah ... yeah. Good on you, mate."

He's trying desperately not to steal this moment from his best friend, but he's fucking itching to know what else you and Archie had been giggling about.

"Did she ... say anything else?" He presses, more gently than his character usually allows. "Like about me?"

Archie shrugs without looking down. "I asked her, but she seemed tense about the whole thing."

"Tense?"

"Yeah, she said something about a bull and a cape, and went like all quiet when I told her you like her--"

At that, Oliver's stomach leaps up into his throat. He grabs his best friend by the arm, jolting him to a short stop. Some Hufflepuff bumps into their halted figures, grumbling before shuffling around them.

"You told her what?" His eyes flare erratically.

Archie shrugs, an innocuously confused look painting his features. "Well I said Oliver's half in love with you, or something like that and she looked all confused about it--"

Oliver's grip on his friend's wrist tightened to a degree that a ring was sure to form on his dark skin. "You fucking pinhead! You told her I liked her?"

Pulling his arm violently from his grip, Archie has the nerve to look affronted. "You don't?"

The morning sun shining over Oliver's head feels like it's growing hotter by the second, there's a dribble of sweat running down his spine.

"That's -- that's not the point. Even if I do, which I'm not saying is the case, she doesn't need to know that."

"Were you two obliviated in your sleep last night?" Archie's eyebrows are pressed down against his eyes, slouching down to meet his friend's face. "I caught you two making out like the world was ending less than three days ago! Surely she has to figure that you feeling something for her, she's not stupid."

Oliver struggles between his thoughts, worse around his words. "That was ... we'd been drinking. For all I know, she only kissed me back cause she was trollied off Dragon-Barrell--"

"She said that, too."

Eyeing him, Oliver's hands find his hips. "Said what, exactly?"

"That you were drunk, I mentioned the kiss and she said we were drunk."

A sensation he can only identify as closest to guilt seeps up into Oliver's chest from his stomach. "She thinks I kissed her just cause I was drunk?"

Archie's hand finds Oliver's shoulder. "You should probably talk to her, mate."

He sighs, eyes drifting over the silhouette of the castle in the distance. He shakes his head like it'll rattle the plaguing thoughts loose. "We're gonna be late for Transfig."

"I mean, Archie is his best friend." Cherry is trying to rationalise the whole story. "I don't see why he'd lie about it?"

You shake your head, knocking shoulders with a Ravenclaw girl trying to pass through the corridor. "I'm not entertaining it, Cherry."

"Come on," she sighs, practically skipping to keep up with the furious pace you've set. "Would it be so terrible if he likes you?"

"Yes." You don't look at her.

The redhead's eye-roll is practically audible, "Let me rephrase, would it be so terrible if he likes you back?"

You meet her eyes for the first time since you'd entered the corridor.

She sighs, "we're gonna see him in Muggle Studies in five minutes. I think you should say something."

"Forget I said anything, Cherry." Heat flares at your neck again, prompted by the embarrassment of even imagining how such a conversation might go.

The rest of the walk is quiet, but you feel Cherry's gaze warming the side of your face.

Burbage's classroom is over-populated with Gryffindors by the time you drop your bag against the marbled floor beside your desk. In the corner of your eye, your brain has already fixated on Oliver's silhouette leaned against the edge of his own desk. You flush hot all over again, as if your thoughts were transcribing into subtitles and floating above your head for the whole class to read.

The click of Burbage's heels prompt the lingering students to find their seats, "Please take out your copies of Muggle Wars: Cause and Effect. We left off on page eighty-seven--"

You suddenly regret snapping at Cherry. Wishing for the comfort of her presence, your eyes glazing over where she's perched in the first row of desks closest to the chalkboard.

Unusually, the class trickles on without disruption. There's a few glances over at your direction, like everyone is waiting for another outburst from the grade's most volatile duo. They're sure to be let down, you're adamant to not even breathe in the direction of Wood.

Burbage comments on it, too, nearly ten minutes from the bell.

"It's suspiciously quiet in your corner today, captains." she looks down through her fingerprint-smudged frames, brushing over you and then Wood three seats away. "Something the matter?"

You shrug, refusing to acknowledge the boy. He seems to be doing the same: completely unfairly, the thought that he wouldn't look at you made the hair on your arms stand straight. "We can start up if you'd like, professor?"

Her face contorts into that irritated look that you'd grown accustomed to when Professor Burbage addresses you. "You're flirting dangerously with another session of detention, miss."

"She's just answering your question, professor."

Nobody in the class seemed more surprised than Burbage, although that in itself was a feat. The two Gryffindor boys in the row ahead of you swivel all the way around in their seats to look at Oliver, who'd just spoken.

You fight the twitching urge to look at him.

"Detention for two, it seems. I'll be seeing you both Friday afternoon."

A calm air settles again over the class, as if order had been restored. You and Wood had lost the interest of the room and students shift back to the board where WHAT IS A PRIME MINISTER? is sprawled across it in chicken-scratch handwriting.

Sighing, your eyes find the clock against the wall. Eight minutes left.

You pick at the end of your quill irritably: electing to dip it into the ink at the edge of the desk and entertain yourself quietly by drawing a miniature snowman at the corner of your page, trying not to think about another Friday afternoon in too close of a proximity to Oliver Wood. There's a soft whir, barely audible if you weren't so focused on outlining pebble eyes, and a tiny paper-airplane whizzes quietly from under your desk: landing squarely on the nose-less head of your snowman.

Fear prickles at you. You don't look up for the source, lest a suspicious sideways glance earns you another weekend with the party-animal Charity Burbage.

Instead, you carefully undo the intricately folded wings of the plane. It's barely big enough to fit into your palm once open, the top of the little note marked in black ink.

It was the same handwriting that marked the sign-out sheet for equipment in the Quidditch storage rooms down at the pitch.

'Thanks for that one, smart-mouth.'

Your eyes flicker up to Burbage, who's back is turned, before you dip your quill into the ink and scribble out a response. In your peripheral, Oliver is leaned back in his stool: biceps folded over each other. There's an unexplainably airy-fairy, fuzzy feeling warming your rib cavity.

'Believe this one was your fault, dickhead.'

You quietly refold the creased edges, before tapping it lightly with the end of your wand: then watch how it takes off the airstrip of your page and zips quietly under the cover of desks to land back in front of the sender.

There's a long pause - enough for Burbage to draw out a whole flow diagram of something called "parliament" - before the edge of the paper wing grazes at your calf again. It lands quietly again.

'Maybe.

We good?'

There's a gentleness to the sentence. Like you can hear it from Oliver's mouth, like he's avoiding your gaze when he whispers it.

You hunch over the note again.

Oliver's knuckles are turning white, twisting his wand in his hands under the table. He shouldn't have said anything. He's regretting the whole fucking idea of the stupid paper-plane now.

He's trying not to watch you write, not to notice how long you stared at his writing before you picked up your own quill. He does anyways.

When the airplane flutters down into his palm, Burbage is already excusing the class. Stools are scraping against cold tile, the clutter of textbooks being crammed back into bags.

'Never :)'

His eyes run over the word once, twice, three times over. A smile is tugging at the edge of his lip, he forces it taut - but his eyes are still shining unusually brightly when Archie knocks his shoulder to his.

"What you looking so damn happy about?"

Oliver tucks the note into the pocket of his robes. "Don’t know what yer talking about."

"But professor, why can't Hufflepuff take Saturday?"

"Well, Hufflepuff already gave up our practice days for Gryff--!"

Hooch sighed so deeply she almost melted back into her armchair. "The decision is made, Oliver. The pitch is being cleaned out on Wednesday, your team can take Saturday for any extra training."

He could practically hear the smile creeping onto your face, the smug crossed-arm look he'll no doubt find when he turns to you.

Irritation bubbles up in his throat, a familiar companion in your presence, and just as he prophesied: you are grinning.

In the weeks that followed that day in Burbage's class, it seemed that both parties decided that the topic of their shared kiss outside the Ravenclaw common room was best left undiscussed.

The arrangement is working. At least Oliver thinks so.

You still bait him and he still snaps, rising to your taunts. He still finds himself in detention more Fridays than he spends free, and his body ripples with anger when you roll your eyes at him.

But it was in moments, like this now, where your little self-satisfied grin doesn't quite vex him to the degree it once did. It's now harder to find a retort, to snap at you with a sharp-edged comment. Not when amusement crinkles at the corners of your eyes where your black lashes kiss so prettily.

Hooch swivels in her chair to find a document between one of her cluttered drawers, you take the opportunity to stick the tip of your tongue out childishly at him.

Oliver draws a tight breath, he hopes his face is still taut in annoyance, because his heart has slipped like a stone down into his stomach. That's the other issue, the tiny little obstacle in these recent weeks: he can't stop looking at your mouth. It's distracting, disarming - paralysing at the best of times.

He strips his gaze away, before he can be outed by anyone in the room. "Whatever." He mumbles.

You seem disappointed in his lack of a real response, but it passes quickly - like a shadow - over your face.

"Thanks professor." You grab up your roster from her desk and turn to the door, practically skipping out into the corridor.

He huffs.

Somehow, you and Archie have become fast friends. Mornings around Fire-Seed Bushes and Venomous Tentaculas in the heat of Greenhouse Three seems to do wonders for a friendship.

It prickles at Oliver's nerves when you pass in the corridors, when you perk up with a high "hey Arch!" and he grins down from his towering height right back at you: "hey Y/n!"

You don't look at Oliver. He's notably sour the rest of the walk.

Alright, maybe the whole arrangement wasn't really working. You were a distraction to him before, no doubt, but somehow your powers of beguilement had tripled. Especially since you seem to be behaving perfectly normal: like you hadn't given Oliver the best snog of his life outside the Ravenclaw common room that night.

Maybe it was just alcohol, maybe he is the only one plagued by the knowledge of the other's taste.

The castle has turned impossibly colder, the bitter bite of winter stinging at the loose cuffs of his robes on walkthroughs of the corridors. He can't imagine how cold the air above the pitch is going to be on Sunday when Hufflepuff faces off Slytherin for a spot in the finals.

It's all Hooch has been going on about for the last two weeks.

Oliver's had to shift around at least four practices - Roger almost twice as much, he's a pushover - to allow for you and Marcus to have more time on the pitch. His complaints fell on deaf ears, Hooch dismissed him with a wave of her bony hand and a "your time is coming, Wood."

You prance into dinner late most evenings, hair in every direction and face flush with sweat: sticking it out like a bumblebee in those awful yellow quidditch robes.

Oliver only notices because, annoyingly, he's found that he is frequenting the bench at the Gryffindor table that faces over to the Hufflepuff's. His eyes drift over the yellow-tied heads to where you clump up with Enzo and Cherry, watches you talk around mouthfuls of toast lazily, giggle behind your napkin: head rolling back to showcase that smooth neck, how it runs down to the soft slopes of your shoulders: disappearing down into your button-up.

Archie has noticed, he's sure, but hasn't done more but allude to it with teasing glances or suggestive comments.

"The Hufflepuffs up to something particularly interesting over there, Ollie?"

The speed with which Oliver's eyes snap to his peas is almost comical. He shrugs and mumbles like a child. "Don't know."

On Sunday morning, you don't go to breakfast.

There's an uncomfortable gurgling in your midriff, like a snake is slithering between your organs and you're sure even just the smell of eggs on toast would bring up your dinner.

Instead you find yourself at the pitch a whole hour before the game is set to start. Marcus is running laps around the grass, something he's done since you've known him.

He offers a curt wave, face set like cold stone.

It reminds you of Oliver a little bit, the distraction in his eyes.

Oliver is never all the way there, wherever he is, you think. His eyes mist over like he's halfway between this world and another. You know it's Quidditch: he dreams it, eats it, sleeps it.

But lately he's foggier than usual.

You think it's your imagination, brush off the idea as you have all the millions of others you'd had in the preceding weeks about the surly brute that was Oliver Wood. He plagues you.

Just the vibrato of his unimpressed huff when you get your way, when you quip something purposely annoying at him. It's addictive, the feel of his sugar-brown eyes glaring a hole through you.

Lately, his reactions have been closer to underwhelming. Allowing for only a moment of eye contact: gone are the quick-witted retorts, the Scottish-laced "princess" usually attached. The thought makes you wince in embarrassment, knowing that you've been pressing him harder lately: like a seven-year old jabbing at a claw machine, outwardly desperate for that brown plushy on the top of the pile.

Maybe he's over it. So deathly mortified of your shared kiss that he doesn't want to know you anymore, much less take the effort to hate you. Your chest pinches tightly.

You dress into your match robes slowly, taking your time with the loops of your shoelaces and the buttons down the sweater you're wearing underneath everything. Oliver Wood should be at the bottom of your list of priorities, normally, but now more than ever.

The team filters into the change-room, exhibiting varying degrees of nervousness. Cedric is practically green, but Herbert looks like he's about to go down a water-slide he's waited over an hour in line for. Beyond the swinging doors, you can hear the crowd shuffling loudly into their seats.

Before your wits are completely about you, Hooch is rapping on those same doors. "Onto the pitch, Hufflepuffs!"

You muster up your best excuse for a captain's speech for what might be the last match you ever play as one. The team seem satisfied, you figure it's easy to find solace before a game when you know it's not your last. As the only seventh year, comfort doesn't come so easily to you.

The crowd is deafening when yellow robes take to the sky: Marcus looks over, offering another nod, not unlike the one he'd given you earlier. You can tell he's feeling the dread of finality too.

There's a whistle blow and the quaffle flies past your face with a speed that nearly evacuates your nose from your face. Lee is announcing in the distance and the rumble of adrenaline forces your fingers over the handle. It tilts and you dip, disappearing into the sky of players.

The winter air at Hogwarts was biting enough roaming the corridors, but thirty metres off the ground is something wholly unnatural. Your face was burning crisp from the icy wind, the feeling in your cheeks and nose lost to the Scottish cold.

Foggy white clouds puff out with each heavy breath. Cedric zooms past and Jane loops around his moving figure to knock a stray bludger in the opposite direction.

Your eyes flash between them and the fast approaching Malcolm, he tosses the quaffle at you with a grunt and you catch it at the tips of slippery, ice-frozen fingertips.

Shooting forward again, you duck under Marcus who is hurtling through the sky at you: gone is the look of friendly fondness from his eyes, replaced with a hunger for the leather-bound ball in your grasp.

Just missing the grasp of his meaty hand, the ball passes onto Heidi.

"Another ten points to Hufflepuff," Lee's voice echoes as if from heaven. "That brings the score to ninety for Hufflepuff and eighty for Slytherin!"

It's been nearly ninety-five minutes of sitting on your broom growing colder, and you're not alone.

Around you, the team is descending into frost-induced exhaustion: Jane's nose is as bright red as a Christmas ornament and Cedric has been peeping over the top of his thick woollen-scarf for at least the last half - barely enough to catch a glance of the whizzing canary and emerald robes, much less of a tiny golden snitch.

You sigh out another white breath, letting your eyes drift over the stands. It's saturated with moving heads of faces you can't make out and yellow and green swaying banners. Your gaze lingers on the top left, in the corner facing the castle. It's where Cherry and Enzo park themselves during every match, where you know they're screaming in support, clenching their teeth at every quaffle handover. You can feel them, even when their faces blur into the crowd.

Unintentionally, you think about how Oliver's mixed in there too. Somewhere between your peers. If you had been granted another moment, if the quaffle wasn't mid-air between two Slytherins just under your nose and you'd not taken the opportunity to snatch it from them, you would have meandered into the trap of hoping that deep down in his chest - even if it was core of the earth deep - he was rooting for you, too. That he seethed at a missed goal or clenched a tight fist at his side in celebration when a Hufflepuff makes a beautiful play.

Meanwhile in the stands, Oliver has decided that the desire to play his allegiances in secret has since disappeared from his heart.

He'd played it light in the first few minutes. Mumbling under his breath at a fumbled pass or a slimy move from the Slytherins, but by the forty-fifth minute he'd found himself on his feet.

"Diggory!" His hands waved in front of him, "it was right there you fucking git--"

A Hufflepuff third year a row ahead looked at him askew, but he paid her no mind.

Archie had taken the hint early. As soon as Oliver was out of his seat, so was he. Despite being Oliver Wood's best friend, Archie had somewhat limited knowledge of the game himself and eyed Oliver's reactions to find the appropriate moments to whoop and cheer. Oliver didn't say anything, but he appreciated it more than he could verbalise.

His eyes tracked you more than anything, when you were flying between players or just floating in place: eyes like a hawk, watching over the game. His heart swelled and his pride fell to the wayside.

Just short of the two hour mark, there was a rise in the crowd.

"The seekers have caught sight of the snitch!"

Oliver's stomach rose into his throat.

"They're diving for it, Malfoy and Diggory head to head-- and Slytherin grabs the snitch, winning by 140 points!"

It sank back into place, like a stone to the bottom of the river. He watched how you froze, how you twisted over your shoulder to find Diggory's figure lingering at the bottom of the field. You shoulders sagged, hanging in the air as the others dropped to the ground.

"Slytherin have made it into the finals against Gryffindor for the quidditch cup, back here at the pitch next month!"

After a long moment, the last in the sky, you followed them down.

The raucous cheers from the Slytherins were hard to drown out, he wasn't even sure Archie heard him toss a "i'll find you at the castle" before he found himself pushing through the masses of people.

He fought against the wave moving to find the stairs, eager to return to the warmth of their dormitories, but Oliver was markedly more motivated than the majority. He stomped on some toes and nearly tossed a first year off the stands to race down the stairs.

Only once his feet had found the mushy grass of the pitch, did he pause to consider that he wasn't entirely sure what he was going to say. What was the rush for? To comfort you, tease you for your loss?

The latter option was definitely what he could do, what he could say. What was expected of him, if he was being honest. Recently, however, he's found it harder and harder to come up with remarks to hurt your feelings. Found that he quite prefers that little smile that tucks into the corner of your mouth when he says something unexpectedly fond. How your eyes practically gleam.

There's shoving from all sides of him -- get out the way, bloody hell -- and the teams pass ahead of him. Leading the march, despite it being nothing more than a slow trudge, is your figure: squashed between those of who he recognises to be Cherry Stretton and Enzo Musa's.

Their arms wrapped over your shoulders, talking animatedly into your ear on each side. Enzo tips his head to meet yours, a small touch of comfort.

Oliver sighs. He has nothing to say and no comfort to offer, wondering for a moment what he could possibly bare to hear in his own final moments as captain. He thinks that anything from your mouth would work.

So he waits, parks himself beside the stairs and waits for Archie: watching the six-legged figure disappear up over the hill.

You're not at dinner.

He knows because he's been watching the door for the better half of an hour. Archie pushes his plate at him, "Eat something there, Ollie."

Begrudgingly, Oliver brings his drumstick up to his mouth. "She's not eaten a thing since breakfast, it's almost eight."

Archie passes a sympathetic look over him. "Her friends are here, I'm sure she'll be by soon. There's no use you joining her on a hunger-strike."

He's right. Cherry and Enzo and some others that frequent your circle are talking around the table, around the spot that you usually fill. But dinner goes on and students leak steadily out towards bed without your return.

Eventually Oliver huffs, like an irritated bulldog, and grabs for the nearest napkin: unfolding it out in front of him.

"What are you doing?" Archie asks thickly, spitting bits of rice at him.

Oliver reaches for two chicken skewers, placing them neatly on the white square: alongside a dinner roll and a pumpkin pasty.

He wraps them over, double wraps it with another napkin too.

"What does it look like, Arch."

Placing it carefully into the deep pocket of his robe, Oliver goes to stand - lacking the patience it takes for Archie to answer, or for his inevitable teasing. "I'll find you back in our room."

He's halfway out the hall when Archie's voice calls out to him, "You don't even know where she is!"

Oliver shakes his head, brandishing a dismissive hand over his shoulder. "I know where she is." He mumbles for only himself to hear.

You’d watched close to twenty-one quidditch matches from the stands at the pitch on Hogwarts grounds: played in almost half of them.

The seat is still slightly too small, just uncomfortable enough to make a person shuffle. Beyond the rim over the other end of the pitch you can see the orange sun dipping behind the horizon, drawing to darkness over your moment alone.

By now you're sure the party in the common room has long since found momentum. The one you'd been promised by the team, "it's your last game, cap, we need to celebrate!". You're sure someone somewhere is looking for you, bracing a plastic cup of Firewhisky with your name on it, but you can't find it within yourself to face it all just yet.

The silence of the evening is enough, you only wish you'd been fast enough to retrieve your broomstick that's somewhere off with Enzo. Just for one last lap.

The serenity of your loneliness doesn't persevere, however. You can hear shuffling up the steps, you're tempted to look but the sunset is slipping so quickly out of your hands that it's not worth the time wasted.

It's only when the footfalls draw closer, stopping when a body slumps into the seat beside you. The seats are so cramped that his knee brushes yours, the figure long since identified from the corner of your eye.

"Come to gloat?" You ask, eyes never leaving the sky.

He shrugs. "Not today."

You nod. His smell drifts on the breeze under your nose, like peppermint and soap and Oliver.

There's a long silence. Your robes crease against the fist sitting in your lap, you've yet to change out of your quidditch uniform, you know it will be the last time.

"You missed dinner."

"Does it matter?"

Despite your avoidant gaze, Oliver's is warming the side of your face. The evening air cools the same spot.

There's a shuffling that finally draws your eyes. Oliver is still in his robes too, and his hand emerges from a deep pocket with a folded napkin square. "Figured you'd be hungry."

He places it onto your lap with a gentleness you're coming to find more of in him. Something frighteningly warm erupts in your chest and your hands come up to it, pulling apart the napkin to find picky bits inside.

You're fighting between smiling and starting to cry. You do neither.

"You carried this in your pocket the whole way from the hall?"

His eyes flicker between the food and your face before he shrugs. "Yeah."

By now, you were fighting a losing battle and the smile pulled up at the ends of your mouth so tightly that your cheeks started to hurt. "Gross."

You pick up a chicken skewer regardless, biting into it and facing the sky again. You offer him the other one and he looks for a moment like he's going to argue but takes it quietly in the end.

The chicken is tender and only after you'd swallowed the first bit did you realise how hungry you'd actually been. You finish it without a word, going to tear the pasty in half and offering a piece to your companion.

You're picking at the roll now, tearing tiny bits off and feeding it piece by piece to yourself like a bird. "Last game."

He nods. "I know."

"What could someone say to you after your last game, Wood?" You pick at him, eyes flittering between him and the now nearly black sky. "You know, to make you feel better?"

Oliver shakes his head, leaning back and rolling his shoulders: as if the thought itself unsettled him.

"Nothing, probably. I'd probably just walk into the Black Lake and drown myself."

You think he's joking, but with Oliver Wood that was hardly a sure thing.

"You wouldn't."

"What's there left to live for?" He says it with an airy chuckle.

Shrugging, your head falls against your shoulder. "You'd have to figure it out, because I'd go marching in right after you. Carry you out if I had to."

Oliver stills, eyes wide and blinking at you. Your chest goes tight, the ghost of a smile pressing at your face.

"Bridal style and everything ..." You add quietly, stifling your chuckle.

He seems to come back to himself, nodding. "We should get back. Been a long day."

The napkin crumples in your hand, shoved down into the depths of your own pocket. You walk ahead, the pathway to the steps is only narrow enough for one person at a time, and he trails behind.

By the time you've hit the steps, Oliver moving down beside you, you're brewing around an apology. A way to thin the air, to ease where your chest is tight: swirling around well done, now you've made things awkward you git. It's halfway up to your tongue when skin brushes against the back of your hand.

Warm fingers explore your knuckles to find your cool ones, slipping to knot between them.

You work not to look down, because Oliver's skittish like that. From the corner of your eye, you can see he's concentrating his gaze ahead.

His hand tightens against yours, palm callous from years wrapped around the wooden handle of his broomstick. It's a little sweaty and sticky but you're smiling so hard you're about to be sick.

You dare to look at him, Oliver's smiling too.

Oliver hasn't been sleeping.

His last few days of seventh year are slipping like water through his calloused hands and he can feel it. Every hour that passes, shadowy and fleeting.

Classes feel shorter than before, the terrible jokes Archie bombards him with over dinner sound funnier than he ever remembers them being and the glimpses he catches of you in the corridor never feel long enough. The ceiling of his poster bed flashes with moments of the day that's passed, feeling like a dream you'll be jolted out of as soon as it gets good.

Even over all his hours of broody contemplation, none of it makes the final whistle any easier to swallow. It hits him like he's been smacked with a bludger in the chest.

"Gryffindor has won the quidditch cup, two-hundred and thirty points to twenty!"

He can hear the crowd's roar, the whoops of the twins floating somewhere below him. Harry's standing on the grass of the pitch holding up his tiny golden trophy. The pitch is red all over: Oliver won.

He won.

Every moment building up over the last seven years culminated into the final blow of the whistle. The wind is whipping at the hair over his forehead: Oliver thinks this might be the happiest moment of his life, but he's not entirely sure.

He never realised that it would all be so fucking soaked in sadness.

It's over. He's leaving the castle empty handed. His engraving will live on the Quidditch Cup in a dusty cupboard for years to come, yes, and he might have a frame up in his future apartment somewhere, reminiscing on the old days. That's all.

He's struck with the devastating fear that in a few short years, nobody will remember him. More than anything, he can't believe he hadn't come to this overwhelming conclusion before right now. Before Angelina is yelling to him, waving a frantic hand and sporting the biggest grin in all of Scotland, before he was seconds from taking the prize he's held in his mind for so many years into his very hands.

Will you forget him?

It nearly knocks him off his broom. He finds that it scares him the most, more than the thought of the dust-caked trophy or the lonely corner at the back of his cupboard where his Hogwarts robes will no doubt live until eternity.

He won't forget you, he thinks. He knows.

You're just so damn annoying. And beautiful, fucking whip-clever and hilarious sometimes--

The handle of his broom is tilting down to the earth now, the crowd zooming into a blur on either side of him. He hits a shaky landing, broomstick abandoned on the grass behind him as he's pulled into the arms of his team and well-wishers.

A golden trophy passes over the heads of the twins and it's shoved into his sweating hands. It's cool to the touch and so much heavier than he thought it ever could be, but he can't seem to keep his mind on the situation long enough to realise any of that. His mind is racing around the castle wondering where you might be and what's the fastest way to get there.

His eyes are racing over the heads of the roving crowd. "Wood, Wood! Speech!"

Shadowing over everyone is Archie's tall figure standing at the back, grinning down at him. The team watches expectantly.

This is it. The moment for the speech he's been practicing in his bathroom mirror since he was seven.

"I--" he looks down at the cup for the first time, his face reflecting up at him in glimmering gold. He finds he can't remember any of the words. "I need to go find someone."

There's a buzz of confusion, but Oliver doesn't linger: shoving the Quidditch Cup into Harry's arms.

"That's the shortest speech Wood has ever given." He hears Angelina quip, but he can't be arsed to turn. He's already flying, moving through the crowd at such a pace he might just have been on his broom.

The sea of students had long since started moving up to the castle, particularly the non-gryffindors: trying to beat the stampede of scarlet that is no doubt to come. Oliver's legs carry him over the smooth green hill up towards Hogwarts, head craning over students to find your side profile somewhere in the mass.

He catches few oy, watch it!'s and congrats, Wood!'s but he doesn't turn, doesn't stop running. Students bespeckle the grass like ants lining up for crumbs, and he's all the way up into the stone corridor leading to the Great Hall when he spots Cherry's velvet red curls over the crowd, and sure enough, he finds you're knocking her shoulder with your own.

It only takes one shout of your name and you turn to peek curiously back, by which time he's taken both your shoulders into his hands and steered you to the wall of the corridor.

"Wood! What are you do--"

His hands squeeze around the plush at your upper arms. "Oliver. My name is Oliver."

Your eyes are wide in surprise, the window behind you showcases the gardens and the pitch in the distance. Sunlight forms a halo over the crown of your head.

With a head tilted in confusion, you nod slowly. "Alright ... what are you doing, Oliver?"

He can feel the eyes of Cherry and Enzo burning a hole through the side of his head, but doesn't bother with it. You're blinking up at him, gentle and benign in your features. He wonders when it became like this, when you'd lost the tight brow and the frown every time you looked at him.

"I won the Quidditch Cup." He says blankly.

You nod, a small smile tucked into the corner of your lip. "I saw. Congratulations."

Oliver only nods back at you. "I wanted to tell you. I wanted to come shove it in your face."

He's shuffling closer to your figure, and he's more than pleased to discover that you aren't cowering from it.

"Of course you did, because you're a prat." But you're smiling so hard now that it's impossible to take your jab to heart. "Is that all, Oliver?"

A warm sensation is spilling into his rib cavity and his fingertips are buzzing with electricity when they come to find either side of your face.

"No." His forehead is nearly touching yours and your hands have wrapped around his wrists. "I came to ask you out on a date. A sappy, disgustingly romantic date where I bring you flowers and pay for your hot chocolate. You'd hate it."

"That truly sounds horrible." Your smile is so wide he can barely see the whites of your eyes and it pumps more adrenaline through Oliver than any argument you'd ever shared over the last seven years.

"So, is that a yes?"

You're bouncing on your toes a little bit, bumping your nose against Oliver's clumsily. The babble of passing students and gawking onlookers has practically fallen mute to him.

"Depends, are you going to kiss me goodnight after?" You whisper it, like it's a secret between just you and him.

He nods slowly, "pretty desperate to kiss you right now, if I'm being honest princess--"

You don't wait for him to finish, thank Merlin you don't wait for him to finish, and push up onto your toes: crashing against his mouth. You're kiss is as dizzying as he remembers, but softer this time. You kiss like you know he's not running away, hands pressing softly over his neck.

It's nothing like your kiss outside the Ravenclaw common room: where that one was desperate and hot and angry, this time it's born from longing and tenderness and acceptance.

It leaves him just as fucking breathless as the first time.

Somewhere behind him, he hears wolf-whistling (he's sure it's Cherry) and when you pull your lips off his, your face is flush with embarrassment.

"I will go on a date with you, Oliver."

He takes your hand into his, curling his fingers between your own. You lean up to peck him softly and bat your eyelashes at him, grinning innocuously when you whisper: "If you treat me like you did with Delilah, I'm throwing your broomstick into the fireplace."

don't forget to comment and repost if you enjoyed :)

taglist:

@laurenmckiernan-blog @mooneyswife @meyaareads @buffkittenmuscles @emielry @amora-lilly @maximumride1 @sarcastic-nerd @chanyeolsbeloved @pinkb4t @betty13augustine @toadweed-twinklegaze-silverpuff @bella-rose29 @grimm1992 @mortallytenaciousmoon @alanalanalanalanalanna @amane-enama @sosasi521-blog @head-in-the-clouds222 @she-went-that-way @joeybelle @mahidahi @malenk @lillyys-reposts @m626 @rain-echos @meidl @arwn-yng @hotchberry1245 @avatar-lovergirl011 @silverblur @aphroditesanem0ne @angstywaifu @2-blind-2-see @alanatheblogger @ebklsbxgdsworld @gwnwrites @skskskye @girlqrush @cas-planet @thycia-flowers @badonkadork @malachitecorgi-spicy-account @carter-knight @angelic-destiny25 @nyxm0on @saltistic-dumbass @maddsunn @margflower @curlyblaze @ardrhys8 @carolga @my-beloved-fandoms @leaawrites @ilovelilies @ahead-fullofdreams @perciver4ever @amaliarosewood @iamthejam @inkyfairy

496 notes · View notes

targaryenmarvel · 2 months

Text

Fallin' All In You (Part 6) - Wanda Maximoff x Reader

Summary: You’ve known Wanda Maximoff since you were children. She was the shy and exceptionally beautiful twin sister of your best friend, Pietro. For the most part, you two never interacted, but that changes when against your better judgment, you begin to develop feelings for the girl.

Warnings: Only cursing for now

Note: Hey, everyone, I hope you are all doing well. I just wanted to share the last chapter of Fallin' All In You. I'm sorry it took so long, but I had a horrible writer's block for the ending. Good news: I'm already working on my next series. I'll share more info soon. Happy reading, everyone!

Word count: 3,162

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5 Part 6

☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆

"Y/N," the blonde boy's voice pierced the air, a potent mix of urgency and confusion. He abruptly halted before the temporary fence enclosing the Ferris wheel, his eyes wide in suspicion.

You were frozen in your tracks as his voice hit you like a splash of cold water. At your side, Wanda gently let go of your hand and took a step away, causing a pang of pain in your chest at her sudden distance.

Pietro's eyes danced between you, yet yours remained fixed on the boy. The longer you remained silent, the more suffocating the atmosphere became. Crystal bounced on her feet uncomfortably and could no longer withstand the tension. She loudly clasped her hands together, drawing the attention of the group.

"I'm just gonna head to the restroom. I'll be right back, babe," she announced, awkwardly walking backward. Pietro half-mindedly nodded as he returned his gaze to you and Wanda.

"This is unexpected," he finally said, scratching his head. "I thought you were doing photography with Shuri today," he told Wanda with a quirked eyebrow before addressing you, "You said you were hanging out with Daisy, but instead, I found you here with my sister."

From your side, Wanda shifted, shooting you a questioning look. You internally kicked yourself for not thinking of a better lie than hanging out with another girl.

Wanda twisted her rings, eyes settling on anything but her twin brother. "Piet, I know you're upset. The last thing you expected to see tonight was your sister and best friend together."

Pietro scoffed and violently shook his head. "Is that what you think? Wanda, I've known about you two since before either of you did." The two of you shared a bewildered look, and Pietro released an exasperated sigh. "Sistra, anytime I mentioned Y/N, you'd grow flustered or hide away when she came over." He turned to you with a scrutinizing glare. "And you're no better, Y/N. Third grade, when Wanda shared her favorite color with the class, you suddenly started buying all things red despite blue being your favorite color."

You froze in place, utterly speechless, as his words hit you like a bolt of lightning, leaving you stunned and reeling. Your brain raced as the haze of the childhood memory disappeared at his words, and you suddenly remembered ruining your school supplies so your mother would have to buy you everything in red.

"I would have to be blind not to notice your little interaction while you're on the field. You were throwing lovesick glances at eachother throughout the game, for god's sake." He waved his arms around to make his point.

Your face flushed red, and you stuttered embarrassingly, trying to deny his words, yet you couldn't. Similarly, Wanda shifted in place, her face burning, as she stared at the grass.

"I'm not mad about you being together. In fact, I couldn't think of a better match since I love you both. Which is why I am hurt you were so afraid to tell me." He stopped stepping closer to you as he took a deep breath, calming himself. "It was fun at first watching you scramble around me, but now, are you that scared of me?"

Your heart dropped.

"Don't be mad at Y/N. She wanted to tell you, but I was too scared. You two have been friends since we were kids, and us being together..." She cast her gaze down, wrapping her arms around herself, and continued in a small voice, "If you want to blame anyone, blame me."

For the first time, you opened your mouth. "Wanda, you can't take the blame for a decision we made together. We are both at fault." You pried her hand away from its confinement, securing it as you turned to Pietro. "I'm sorry we kept it from you, Pietro. And no, it wasn't because I was scared of you. I lied because I was afraid of ruining our friendship."

Pietro's face softened at your declaration. "Y/N, unless you plan on hurting Wanda, you will never lose me, and I doubt you would ever do that to her."

"Never," you assured, shaking your head and glancing at Wanda. The young woman stared down bashfully with a tiny smile, and your heart swelled. You said the following words, staring directly at her. "I'm serious about us. I would have never risked our friendship if I wasn't."

"I know, and I'm sorry if I overreacted earlier. It's just you're my baby sister," he said, looking at Wanda.

She rolled her eyes, muttering, "It's only 12 minutes."

Pietro ignored her, turning to you, "And you're my best friend. That fact that you are together doesn't change anything. I still want you to rant to me when she nags you over playing too many video games like she does with me. Or whenever Y/N is being an idiot because we all know how dense she can be. I mean, it took her ages to figure out she liked you."

You turned red, and Wanda snorted, bringing her hand to cover her mouth in a futile attempt to save you from further embarrassment.

"No matter what, both of you can come to me."

Wanda lunged forward into his arms, hiding her face in his neck. He enclosed her in his arms, squeezing her tightly as he gave you a goofy grin.

"Bring it in." He removed one of his arms from Wanda and extended it to you invitingly. In normal circumstances, you would have pushed the boy for subjecting you to the embarrassing public display of affection. Yet the rollercoaster of emotions you endured clouded your judgment, and you soon joined the siblings, wrapping your arms around the two.

Although you could feel a few curious eyes on you and a tinge of self-consciousness, you still wrapped your arms around the two.

"Aw, how cute," Crystal cooed, settling next to you three, effectively ending the moment as you scrambled away from eachother. "Oh, don't stop on my account."

"Anyway, I wanted to ride the Inversion, but Crystal's a chicken," he flinched as she slapped his arm. "Are you down?"

You looked at Wanda, and she nodded. Yes, you were whipped.

"Lead the way."

The four of you made your way to the ride, only separating as you and Pietro got into the line, leaving the girls to wait on the other side.

Wanda and Crystal leaned on the metal railing, observing the spinning contraption in complete silence. Despite their lack of interaction, Wanda felt comfortable with the girl. Wanda had been around many of Pietro's conquests, and although she knew little of Crystal, she seemed different from the frivolous, self-centered girls his brother liked to date. Of course, she was otherworldly beautiful with her flowing strawberry-blonde hair, striking green eyes, and alluring personality: charismatic, confident, intelligent, athletic, but most importantly, kind. No wonder she was popular, and no wonder Pietro had gone after the girl.

Crystal shuffled on her feet while watching the operator open the railing gate, and more people, including you and Pietro, entered the ride.

"You know, when Pietro mentioned Y/N and Daisy were hanging out today, I thought the girl had finally mustered the courage to ask Y/N out," Crystal mused thoughtfully.

Wanda's furrowing face sharply twisted her way. "Ask Y/N out?

"Yeah, everyone knows she's had the biggest crush on her since freshman year, but you beat her to the punch. I'm not disappointed, though. You two make a cute couple," she explained dismissively, not sensing Wanda's distress, before waving to the moving ride. "Oh, there they go!"

She watched as the platform spun, and the two continued in silence. Wanda's mind lingered on the so-called Daisy. Who the hell was this girl who had a crush on you? Why did you tell Pietro you were hanging out? Did you know of her feelings? Wanda's head filled with insecurities like a dark cloud lumming in the sky.

The thoughts continued as you and Pietro rejoined the girls. However, they eased into the back of her mind as you took her hand and flashed her a bright smile—a reminder that she had the privilege of tasting your lips; she was on a date with you, and you wanted her.

Wanda squeezed your hand as the two of you followed Pietro and Crystal to the game stalls after deciding to continue as a group. The two of you teased her brother as he attempted to outsmart the rigged games as if you hadn't faced the same predicament earlier as you tried to impress Wanda.

"Why don't you try hook-a-duck? Maybe you'll have better luck," you playfully suggested as Pietro failed to knock down the entire tower of cans for the third time. Wanda snickered into your shoulder as her brother fixed you with a glare.

"Fuck off, Y/N. ," he said as he handed the boy in charge of the stall more bills. He recoiled his arm, preparing to throw, before an idea crossed his mind. "In fact, why don't you show me how it's done?" he offered, extending the bean bag to you.

You huffed nervously, looking to Wanda for help, as you remembered how you could only knock over a few cans earlier. Wanda had cleared all the cans.

"You should give it a try," she said with a devilish smirk, crushing any hope of evading the challenge. You stared at her in betrayal, eyebrows drawn together and mouth agape. Wanda revealed in your reaction, finding it humorous and equally adorable, so much so that she leaned in to kiss you on the cheek and whispered, "Aim for the bottom middle, detka."

A blushing mess and dazed, you took the bean bag from Pietro and positioned yourself behind the stall. Detka. The word rang through your skull, and you tried to recognize its meaning. For all you knew, she could be calling you an idiot, yet the soft and endearing tone made you think otherwise. You would ask her later, you settled.

You experimentally swung your arm, analyzing the pyramid. The base consisted of four metal cans, and per Wanda's instruction, you were to aim for the second and third. You inhaled deeply before releasing the bean bag in an underhand throw. It hits the second tier's third can, and three crumble, leaving seven remaining. You run your tongue between your lips, irked that you have missed your target, and you readjust your position. You throw again, this time hitting your target. The remaining cans in the second and third tier fall, and they miraculously knock the first can in the fourth tier, leaving only one left.

Wanda cheers you on from behind, and so does Crystal; Pietro complains beside her. "Babe?" He questioned reproachfully, and you stifled a laugh.

You aim the final bean bag at the remaining can, calculating how much strength to use. The bean bag grazes the can, moving slightly but not falling over.

"Fuck," you whisper defeatedly.

"Not so cocky now, huh?" Pietro mused, quirking an eyebrow at you.

"I don't think you have any room to talk, Piet. She still did better than you," Wanda defended, crossing her arms as you returned to her side with your new keychain.

"She's right, babe," Crystal joined in, biting back a laugh when Pietro turned to her with a look of betrayal.

"Oh, so that's how it's going to be. You're going to gang up on me, now?" He scoffed, his eyes jumping between the three of you. "Traitors."

The three of you could no longer contain your laughter at Pietro's antics. Oh, how you had missed him the past few years. Though you chatted frequently, nothing compared to the banter you shared when you were together.

"You're such a drama queen, Piet," you say, wrapping your arm around Wanda's shoulder, who hides a snicker behind her hand.

Pietro turns to respond, but Crystal takes him by the arm, leaning in to kiss his cheek. The boy's face softens, and the bright lighting of the stall allows you to notice a faint redness on his face as he grins, pleased with himself. He had accomplished what he sought: charming Crystal.

Some of you wanted to tease the boy, yet how could you when his sister had you following her like a lost puppy? Her kiss or a simple touch had you melting like ice on a scorching summer day. The evidence came when Wanda turned to you, a radiant smile spread across her face, causing your chest to tighten and leaving you momentarily breathless.

The group of you wandered around the fairgrounds, and before you knew it, it was 9:45 PM. You could feel your body growing tired, your feet aching after so much walking, and you could tell Wanda felt the same way. As your arms circled her waist with your chin resting on her shoulder, you could see her head tilt up and release a long yawn.

When Pietro and Crystal invited you to watch a local band the organizers booked to play, you and Wanda declined in favor of going home. Wanda fell asleep within ten minutes of your journey home, perhaps lulled by the soft voice of Lana del Rey. Unlike the night she had stayed over, you couldn't afford to admire the sleeping girl lest you wish for disaster. Then, you would undoubtedly replace Jarvis for the worst date ever.

You contented yourself by humming to the music and tapping on the steering wheel. When you parked in front of her house, Wanda remained deep in slumber, her chest rising slowly with each breath. How could she become more beautiful each time you look at her?

You reached over, gently rubbing her arm, and Wanda groaned, scrunching her face into a scowl, disgruntled by being disturbed.

"Wake up, sleepy head. We're here," you said, biting back a laugh.

Her eyes snapped open at your words, embarrassment washing over her face.

"Sorry," Wanda said, rubbing at her eyes.

Your lips twitch upwards, arching a singular eyebrow. "What for?"

"I fell asleep."

"I don't mind. In fact, I immensely enjoyed the little nose scrunch you do when sleeping. It's cute," you teased, recalling the small detail from the one time you risked a glance.

"Oh, god, stop," Wanda grumbled into her hands.

You hummed, your teeth grasping your lower lip, lost in deep contemplation.

"I don't think I will. I like making you blush. It makes you even more adorable," you stated matter-of-factly.

"Is that so? How about you then? You were red as a tomato when Pietro exposed you. Hmm, buy everything red because it's my crush's favorite color."

You opened your mouth to counter, yet nothing came out. She had you.

"Touche," you said.

"Oh, let's not forget all the staring you do. Just so you know, I have noticed. I preferred not to call you out, but why not since we are discussing what's adorable? Definitely adorable, don't you think?"

"I invoke the fifth," you said with a pout, glad for the lack of lighting, which concealed your burning face.

Wanda reveled in her victory with a knowing smirk. She would have happily continued her teasing were it not for a yawn that reminded her of her fatigue.

"I should get going," she signed.

"Okay," you agreed reluctantly, knowing you could talk to her for hours. However, you would not prevent her from getting her much-needed sleep.

Wanda moved to grab the door handle, but you stopped her.

"Let me," you said, rushing out to her side of the car to open the door. "Oh, let's not forget this."

You opened the back door, retrieving the bear you had gifted her. You then accompanied her to her front door, where you both lingered, trying to prolong the moment.

"Thank you for today. It was fun." Wanda wrapped her arms around herself, shielding herself from the light night breeze.

"Best date you've had, right," you remind, and Wanda rolled her eyes with a smile tugging at her lips.

"So far," she countered before giving you a chaste kiss. "Goodnight, Y/N." She turned to leave, but you reached out, grasping her elbow, fueled by the sudden kiss, to ask something you had been dying to.

"Wait," you drew out the word, heart hammering in your chest. "I was waiting to ask you because I wanted to do it right. You know, after we told Pietro—not that I need his permission or anything," you fumbled, scratching the back of your neck. Wanda watched, amused yet curious.

"Anyway," you said, taking her hands into yours and looking straight into her forest-green eyes. "Will you be my girlfriend?"

Wanda remained still, processing your words. For a moment, you thought she would reject you, telling you it was too early to commit in such a way. Then, something shifted, and you noticed the unmistakable twinkle in her eyes, reflecting pure happiness. Her wide grin stretched from ear to ear, revealing a set of radiant, pearly white teeth. Her answer came in one word.

"Yes."

"Yes?" you questioned, unbelieving eyes switching her own to her lips as you pulled her closer.

She only nodded, closing the gap. Your lips locked together, fitting like puzzle pieces in a gentle kiss. You quiver under her delicate hands as they settle on the curve of your jaw. Your hands found a home on her waist, pulling her closer and sealing any gap that remained between your bodies. Your lips moved gracefully and in perfect sync in a kiss of pure tenderness and devotion. There was no rush as you parted with a gasp, searching her face and finding her swollen red lips gaping for air and unbridled affection in her green eyes.

The mesmerizing sight ignited a surge of emotion as you retook her lips with intensified passion, causing your teeth to collide in a fierce kiss. Your surroundings disappeared, unconcerned by being discovered by the neighbors or Wanda's mother. You could only think of Wanda, the warmth of her body, and the hunger with which she returned your kiss. You felt your body ascend as you bit down on her bottom lip, and she moaned.

The kiss and the day's events quickly overwhelmed Wanda with emotion, from cracking jokes or intentionally making a fool of yourself just to make her laugh to the heartwarming way you had gifted her your skeeball prize—the same one she had dropped in favor of grasping your jaw. She would have to take better care of the bear. Even being discovered by Pietro had ended pleasingly. Everything had been perfect—everything except...

Wanda suddenly pulled away, lips smacking from the action. The brunette arched an eyebrow and tilted her head to the side in the menacing manner you loved. Although confused by the action, it only made you want to kiss her more. It was only her following words that stopped you.

"Who the hell is Daisy, and why did Pietro think you were out with her today?"

You chuckled nervously, looking at anything but the brunette. You were so in trouble.

☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆

A/N: Thank you to all who have read this story and liked, commented on, or reblogged it. I was hesitant to share my writing, but your support has given me the confidence to continue posting my work. Hopefully, you'll like what I have planned next!

Taglist: @alexawynters

#wanda maximoff #wanda maximoff x reader #wanda maximoff x female reader #wanda x reader #wanda x you #targaryenmarvel fics

193 notes · View notes

sunghoonsslut · 1 year

Text

Knock Down P.SH

18+ Content MDNI SMUT NSFW

Genre: PWP SMUT 18+, Boxing AU, Gym trainer AU, College setting

Pairing: (Dom)Boxer Sunghoon X (Sub)Afab Reader

Warnings: Smut (Minor Do Not Interact), MC is Right handed, She/Her pronouns used in reference to MC, teasing, Handsy/touchy Hoon, strength kink, size kink, fingering, edging, mean hoon, public sex, unprotected sex (Wrap it before you tap it), handjob, Cumming inside, ridding, orgasm denial/control, Mc knows nothing about boxing (and neither does the writer), somewhat manhandling, unspecified but MC is smaller than Sunghoon, name calling (Baby, Slut, Loser), 2 thigh slaps, big dick hoon :) I THINK that’s everything?? Please lmk if you think I missed anything

WC: 10.6k (This was supposed to be a short blurb like 3k max just to slowly introduce myself cnjsdvnwvn but here we are)

Song rec: Sweat by Anthony Watts

Preview : His amused chuckle hits your ear chest vibrating against your back moving any stray flyaway hairs away from your neck “What’s got you so distracted?” He whispers into your ear breath hot against your skin, catching the way you relax into his touch, stepping back slightly, getting closer to him.

LAST WARNING PLEASE READ THE WARNINGS LIST THOROUGHLY THIS IS 18+ CONTENT

“Come on, please I don’t want to do this alone,” Your friend is begging, pulling at your sleeve and distracting you with drawn-out pleads pressing her weight on your shoulder bringing you off center and away from the pile of work in front of you.

“Since when did you want to join a gym? When I suggested it last summer you said- and I quote, ‘I get plenty of dick so there isn’t a use, when I already get my cardio in’ End quote,” You pull free of her grip, smoothing out the fabric she had bunched up with an annoyed huff turning back towards the practically blank document on your laptop.

“I know but now it’s different, we could go together! And look,” She’s shoving her phone in your face so you have no choice but to watch her screen “They're offering two free boxing lessons for new joiners, the student discount is also a blessing,” She rants off the list of appealing offers listed on the gym’s website, swiping through photos to show off the luxury areas they have and how big of a place it is with a number of tennis courts, an indoor and outdoor swimming area, boxing ring, and generalized work out sections depending on what you want to do.

You groan shoving her hand away “If I say yes will you stop bugging me so I can finish this assignment,” You cave, knowing she’d continue on like this if you didn’t agree because if there is one thing your friend is, it’s persistent as she sits back in her seat grinning from ear to ear typing away on her form, filling out her information, quiet, finally settling back into your work groove. Typing away on the computer a tedious list of unanswered questions sits on the screen dual tabs opened on the laptop with the curriculum's textbook on the other side of the questions. Scrolling through skimming the lines that blur in front of you until the oncoming headache is too much and the number of questions has at least dwindled down to a mere fourteen instead of the thirty-seven you began with.

Stretching out you close the laptop only somewhat satisfied by the dent you managed to make in your work “Finally,” She swivels her chair next to you bringing out her phone, a lengthy form staring back at you.

“Can this wait till my brain isn’t fried?” You massage at your temples blinking at her phone, too mentally drained to even begin thinking about another screen to answer questions on.

nudging you in the side hard enough to leave a bruise she stays stern “You said you’d do it, no backing out now,” You mumble out a few choice words begrudgingly taking her phone to fill out the form with your information, selecting various options with your friend propped on your shoulder watching you carefully, too tired to swat her away.

It’s going smoothly getting through about half the questions, mostly basic questions about yourself when she interrupts you with an exasperated gasp causing you to pause “What are you doing? Say yes!” Your finger hovers over the No option under the question ‘Are you interested in our boxing program (The first two lessons are free for beginners)’.

“Boxing?” You turn your head to look at her eyes narrowing on her, having never mentioned anything about wanting to try boxing in the past ten years you've known her.

“Why not, it’s free,” she clicks on the yes button for you, freshly manicured nails sounding out against the screen, selecting the Beginners option from the drop-down menu when it asks for your experience level.

You let her do it not wanting to break into another argument, slumping forward slightly “You're not going to flake on me like you did when you said we should sign up for tennis are you?” She scrolls to the next section ignoring the question you asked “See this wasn’t so bad now you just gotta put in your student information for the discount and your card information,”

You don’t miss her attempt at deflecting, taking the phone back to fill in the remaining spots. Trying to believe she’d commit to this since it was her idea “It’s gonna be great!” She pats you on the back, ‘a fun activity for the two of you' At least that’s how you reasoned it to be only semi-hopeful with her long list of previous commitments that lasted a week tops.

——

After only three days you’re waking up to messages with excuses of why she can’t join your gym sessions with a suddenly packed schedule; study sessions, dates, sorority events, Frat parties, a lab, you name it she’s suddenly there, there being: anywhere but the gym; making it clear she has no intention to continue using her membership, leaving you to go alone. Having already paid for the first month you might as well get some use out of it. Mentally noting you’d just cancel the subscription before it charges you for the upcoming month.

Today wasn’t any different, phone vibrating in your pocket the second you entered the gym with her ‘So, SO sorry, I really can’t today, woke up sore :(’ text message making you groan clicking your phone off without bothering to reply. It didn’t necessarily come as a surprise her ditching you as she has been the last few weeks but the least she could have done was show up for the boxing lesson she essentially forced on you, especially with a confirmation email a week in advance from the instructor, Sunghoon, and her assuring you that she ‘wouldn’t miss it for the world,’ over the phone the day before.

Setting your bag down by the boxing area of the gym contemplating if you should just leave, you didn’t even want to box in the first place. Weighing your options you scroll through your feed, images of your friend at a party the night before popping up after a few random sponsored posts building up annoyance clenching your jaw swiping through a thread to see the progression of just how drunk she had gotten. The photos get progressively blurry and unfocused with each swipe, the last photo being so fuzzy it’s hard to even recognize her sitting on the lap of some frat guy making out.

You reach for your bag deciding to leave before the instructor shows up, maybe eat a pint of ice cream and watch some dated movie that aged badly to drown out your annoyance instead of subjecting yourself to an hour of bag punching “Hey,” a voice speaks out drawing you away from your phone to glimpse up at the new voice before you can back out dropping your hand and taking in the man standing in front of you his breathtaking appearance, freshly bleached hair, pointed jawline, and beautiful beauty marks dot his face like a constellation, a constellation you could easily get lost in forever looking at.

“I think one other person is joining us so we can wait a bit to see if they’ll come,” he sets his water bottle next to your things stretching his built arms across his body as if he couldn't get more attractive. You set your head back slightly conflicted, no way you could walk out now, not without a reasonable excuse at least, and it’s not like you could say he had the wrong person with the area being completely empty aside from the two of you.

You look back at him as he’s setting things up before you find your voice “She’s not,” it comes out sounding more bitter than you intended watching the way he raises an eyebrow silently questioning how you could know that.

“I mean,” You take in a deep breath poking the inside of your cheek with your tongue trying to bite back the things you really want to say, “she’s my friend, and sent me a message saying she couldn’t make it.. sick” you backtrack explaining your reaction which softens his features.

“I see, I prefer one on one anyways, easier to focus, you’ve got my undivided attention,” he assures you, pushing his hair out of his face, eyes looking over you, in the matching workout attire you choose to wear, making sure to wear your hair out of your face as he suggested in the email silently glad that your friend canceled so he could get someone as stunning as you alone to himself.

Stretching his arms high above his head, your eyes skim over the definition of his muscles seeing how strong he is watching the faint flex of his arm eyes trailing down to where skin peeks out from where his shirt rises showing off a bit of his toned abdomen shorts hanging low enough on his hips to show the V line, making you sweat without having even started yet “Go easy on me?” voice shifting tone with nerves slightly cracking, you look back over his face, soft smile an antithesis to the rest of his body language.

“Don’t worry I’m not going to throw you around just yet,” he assures you with a wink hearing the infliction in your voice, finding it cute how nervous he makes you.

“We’ll start easy, you want to show me how you think you’re supposed to stand?” Sunghoon motions for you to take the floor and demonstrate, eyes widening at the request, suddenly even standing was a doubtful action.

Raising from where you were sitting you scratch over your neck avoiding looking at your instructor, “So, I’ve never actually boxed before…” you shuffle your weight from foot to foot trying to focus on anything else “I’ve never even watched a boxing match,” You admit, slightly embarrassed having not even looked up a youtube video for the basics in preparation.

He lets out a laugh that echoes off the empty walls of the usual lively gym deserted with classes in full swing across campus, taking a step closer to you, but keeping just enough space so you aren’t uncomfortable, “that’s okay, I don’t expect you to be able to knock me out, I’m just curious I’ll fix your stance,” uncertain you stand with your legs slightly apart and bring your fists up in front of your chest.

Encircling around you his eyes take in the way you’ve stood it feels wrong, especially under his sharp eyes analyzing you making you subconsciously straighten up as Sunghoon goes into instructor mode, “Can I touch you?” His eyes meet yours as soon as he’s done looking over you, waiting for a response before he does anything, your throat feeling hoarse “Y-yeah,” you mentally slap yourself for tripping over your words clearing your throat. Stopping behind you, you can hear his soft chuckle hit your ears, finding the little hiccup “cute,” sending a shudder through your body.

Sunghoon’s hands make contact with your waist fingers pressing in just enough to slightly indent “Okay, now are you right or left-handed?” his hands are warmer than you thought they’d be noting how they sat against your skin bigger than yours as he holds you perfectly.

“Right,” you answer still focused on the mere size difference between you both “We’re gonna bring your right leg back, a little bit wider than shoulder width,” he’s explaining breath fanning over your neck as he starts his demonstration, his left hand continues to rest on your waist, right hand trailing down and cupping your hip applying slight pressure to let you know to step back and angle yourself following his lead. Sunghoon lets you adjust to the new stance habitually rubbing your hip with his thumb as you try and focus on what he’s saying.

“That’s good, This base stance makes you appear smaller so you’re not as big of a target as for your hands you just gotta bring them up by your head and raise your shoulders…” you can’t help the way your mind drifts fixated on his hand rubbing your hip, subtly pressing harder and wondering how they’d feel elsewhere with how easily you fit in his grip hands against your body expertly, eyes falling closed, losing yourself in the feeling momentarily you breathe out a small “yeah,” mindlessly replying mid-explanation without realizing it.

Pausing his instructions the side of his lips raises “You got that then?” He stills his hands waiting for a response knowing fully well he didn’t even finish his entire explanation and you return back to what’s going on “Hm?” You let out confused blinking to yourself realizing you zoned out halfway through his directions.

His amused chuckle hits your ear chest vibrating against your back moving any stray flyaway hairs away from your neck “What’s got you so distracted?” He whispers into your ear breath hot against your skin, catching the way you relax into his touch, stepping back slightly, getting closer to him.

“Nothing, I just..” you try to think up excuses, but the only thing that comes to mind is the way Sunghoon’s muscular body feels pressed against yours, licking over your lip feeling dryer than usual now as you try and figure out what to say.

“Don’t worry it’s just the two of us, tell me what you were thinking about?” He reminds you of the empty area fingers ghosting over your side with feathering touches that feel like electricity driving you crazy.

“It’s just your hand..” You lose your train of thought momentarily when he resumes his ministrations massaging your side as if asking you to continue reminding you exactly why you interrupted him.

Nose presses up against your neck inhaling against your skin “What about my hands?” The proximity makes it difficult to focus, almost dizzying, letting your shoulders drop and relaxing into his body further feeling closer than before, head lolling to the side giving him more access, tempting to kiss over the expanse of your neck that he can reach.

You’re resisting the urge to mewl out with every move of his hands pressing into you deeper with a bruising grip while inching inwards dangerously close to your center “They-” You don’t finish your thought when the sound of someone clearing their throat sounds out against the room “Damn, hope I’m not interrupting anything,” Leaning against the entrance to the boxing area Jay watches the two of you with arms crossed gym bag hanging low off his shoulder, and a raised eyebrow, amused. Sunghoon unimpressed meets his friend's eyes from where he stands behind you looking over you once more trying to memorize the way you look under his temptation in this moment before creating some distance between you regrettably, giving his friend the side eye you’re jolted out of the almost hypnotic trance Sunghoon had on you.

“Just doing a lesson,” Sunghoon grits out annoyed with the sudden intrusion on his instruction cracking his knuckles.

“I can see that,” Jay chuckles looking over you for a second before stepping further into the gym “Hee and I are just gonna spar for a bit so don’t mind us,” He explains heading over to the practice ring in the middle of the room, hiking his gym bag up his arm.

Embarrassment rushes through your face feeling hot with emotion just with how you were acting you bury your head into a nearby punching bag “Get it together…” you mumble to yourself trying to reassure yourself it’s just a boxing lesson and shouldn’t be getting hot and bothered like this from feeling up your instructor.

“Hey it’s okay,” Sunghoon tries to reassure you, pulling you away and off the bag wanting to get back to teaching now that Jay decided to insert himself into things and make things difficult.

Bouncing in through the door, Heeseung glances around for Jay sight landing on you and Sunghoon, eyes double taking on you. straightening up and walking towards the two of you, not even bothering to look at Jay who’s in the complete opposite direction.

You look over at the familiar figure making his way over to you as if you couldn’t get more embarrassed, Sunghoon sees the way you shy away from his friend and turns to talk to him.

“Didn’t see you guys on the schedule for using the ring,” Sunghoon explains to Heeseung who just gives him a hum more interested in talking to you.

“So, you’re taking boxing lessons?” Hee asks starting to wrap his hands almost expertly only looking down to confirm it’s in the right places but his attention seems fixated on you.

“Oh yeah, my friend signed us up for them,” You explain looking down at Heeseung’s hands with interest unsure how he was able to do that so quickly.

Sunghoon clears his throat slightly, bringing your attention back to him, eyes finding his “So you know Heeseung?” Sunghoon asks, wondering exactly how much you knew about his friend.

“Yeah, he helped me out with figuring out some of the equipment a few days ago,” you explain the memories and feelings of embarrassment flooding through you as if just a few seconds ago wasn’t bad enough.

Cursing out as you try and figure out how exactly this machine worked having just seen some guy using it not too long ago you sit in a similar position attempting to use it but nothing budging, about to give up and move on to something else, something you know, a treadmill is easy enough to navigate.

“Hey, you need to change the weight on it,” a voice explains, smiling softly and pointing to the weights on the side catching you off guard unaware someone was watching you struggle as you make eye contact with the guy to your side who must’ve been working out close by with the way his hair drips with sweat sides of his face lined with droplets water bottle in his hand.

Burying your face in your hands you shake your head “Sorry… I don’t do this a lot…” you mumble as the guy fixes up the amount of weight looking you over to try and gauge how much you could handle while also getting a better look at how pretty you are.

“Give that a try, let me know if it’s too much or if you need more,” he waits for you to use it, nodding you pull and it moves with a bit of pressure as opposed to before.

You let out a relieved sigh giving the stranger a small nod “Works great… thanks…” you pause having not caught his name as he shoots you a wink “Heeseung, anything at all don’t hesitate to ask,” he offers before running off to finish his own workout.

The brief interaction left you embarrassed hoping to never meet him again purely in the fact to not relive those memories, but as your luck happens to be it was not in your favor.

“You know me always wanting to help out the newbies,” Heeseung nudges his friend but his eyes stay transfixed on you which Sunghoon notices with a clenched jaw he rolls his eyes, “Yeah always so generous,” he grits out unimpressed

“I’m actually really good, some would even say better than Hoon,” Heeseung gets back on the topic of boxing again making you eye between the two friends Sunghoon’s eyes roll and arms stretching out to show off his arms.

Sunghoon lets out a brief laugh shaking his head letting his hair fall in his face “Is that why I knocked you out last week?” he questions with a head tilt leaving the older to poke the inside of his cheek with his tongue.

“What if we-” Heeseung is about to challenge his friend but doesn’t finish as Jay nudges his friend harshly in his side making a face you're unable to see but it’s enough of a signal to let the taller one know to knock it off Heeseung mouthing what looks like a ‘why?’ towards his friend.

“Okay, you think you can show me the stance?” Sunghoon steps in front of you arms crossed showing off his strong build clearly annoyed by the interruption while blocking your view of his friends forcing you to focus back on him.

It takes you a few seconds to process the question but answer with a “Sure,” trying to sound confident attempting to remember all the things he just told you, you move in slow motion bringing your right foot back and raising your shoulders upwards followed by your fists on both sides of your head looking upwards at your instructor as if asking if it was correct.

Stepping closer to you his eyes bounce from your lips to your eyes and before you can ask if it’s correct his thumb lightly grazes over your bottom lip tugging it down slightly with the motion falling to trap your chin between his thumb and pointer finger. “Don’t forget to tuck that chin, don’t want to hurt that pretty face,” he applies enough pressure with his thumb to have you tuck downwards to your chest, eyes never leaving yours.

“Perfect,” He approves removing his hand, making you ease up a bit letting out a breath only for him to take a step closer making you freeze up faces inches apart, “Don’t let your guard down, and always focus on your opponent,” he reminds you, laughing at the way you silently blink at him words caught in your throat.

“I’m really close aren’t I?” He points out watching the way you hum and nod “Probably shouldn’t let your opponent this close, right?” He cocks his head to the side waiting for a reply other than silence moving a section of hair away from your face to demonstrate just how close he is.

“Probably,” you try and focus on what he’s saying other than the dizzying closeness your eyes lingering on his lips and how if you leaned forward even a little yours would press against his.

“So, let me show you how to get away,” he explains moving away to better demonstrate and you can’t help but miss the close proximity swallowing your nerves and trying to remind yourself this is a boxing lesson he was just doing his job.

“You don’t want to trip so, shuffle backward, never let your legs cross, move the leg furthest back and then follow it with the other leg,” Sunghoon demonstrates shuffling back away from you a few feet then forward and back again signaling for you to demonstrate it as well. You do as he explains moving back by shuffling back foot then front foot until you’re far enough away and then switching to move back towards him easily finding the movement and reaching him.

You do the same exercise but side to side and when you’re back in front of him you stop taking a moment to look up at him and how he’s taller than you making you look up at him “That was easy,” You shrug making him tilt his head and hum.

“Oh? How about this then,” He pauses taking a few steps back before continuing “you get a head start but you have to shuffle away from me and try to not let me corner you,” He challenges “If it’s so easy,” he adds you let out a breath not meaning to challenge his instruction but you accept it waiting for his signal to start unsure how sure you are that you can evade him, your eyes meet his and he gives you a nod giving you to go ahead and just like a game of hide and seek he’s counting down.

From ten you start shuffling away from him backward trying to create enough distance it wouldn’t be too hard to get away and after what feels like less than a few seconds “Zero,” leaves his lips making you look up to see him moving forward almost too quickly shuffling your direction with ease eyes focused completely on you like his next meal.

You freeze with the progress he’s managed to make in just a few seconds causing you to fall behind as you compose yourself starting to shuffle away from him again backing up while you look at him and you go as far as you could until you’re met with cold.

Back hitting the concrete wall behind you, you panic tearing your eyes away to see your options boxing bags on both sides of you before your vision fixes back over to Sunghoon who is significantly closer with his long legs giving him an advantage with how much further he can move, reaching you a few seconds later and caging you between his arms body pressing against you as he lets out a disappointed tsk “Caught you,” he shakes his head as you let out a shocked squeal noise caught off guard.

He glances at the watch on his wrist that has a stopwatch going to see how long it would take “Fifteen seconds? Not so easy then was it?” He sounds disappointed shaking his head, you give him a half smile almost embarrassed you couldn’t last a little longer.

He stays unmoving just looking at you waiting for you to tell him to move “Probably shouldn’t let my opponents this close,” you point out nervously unsure where to rest your hands that were previously at your side.

His face is right next to yours looking at you catching the way you avoid looking directly at him as a hand comes up helping to cup your jaw turning your face to look at him cocking his head waiting on your reply, dry swallowing your anxieties now forced to give him your full attention “Probably,” his lower half is pressed into you one leg slotted between your two making the room spin as if it were still just the two of you pressed against each other pressure on your lower halves clearly affecting both of you wanting to move against his leg for anything more.

“Ah, Fuck,” A thud follows the curse making you look away and just past Sunghoon to see what the commotion was, Sunghoon peering back over his shoulder as well to see Heeseung in a headlock, courtesy of Jay. Sunghoon lets out a sigh backing away to release you.

“Let me go you asshole,” Heeseung tries to peel his friend away, Sunghoon stands with his arms crossed watching the two shaking his head at the bickering pair

Turning towards you Sunghoon doesn’t let his voice carry leaning downwards to whisper against your ear sending chills up your spine “Things can get worse if you get cornered so just be aware of your surroundings, let's work on some basic jabs and blocks for now,” you silently agree following him over to a punching bag embarrassingly wet with arousal sticking to your underwear from him barely doing anything.

——-

God, of course, he was using the gym at the same time as you, he seemed like the only person you were running into recently. Sitting on a bench with your small weights placed in front of you, getting lost in the way his sweat-soaked shirt sticks to his skin, remembering the way he felt pressed up behind you his silk-like voice whispering against your ear. How he had you caged against him and the wall driving you insane. Now watching the way his muscles flexed with each curl of the weight in his grip wondering how easy it would be for him to just grab you and pin you up against-

“Are you just gonna keep eye fucking him?” Your friend’s voice asks in a sneer making you jump caught off guard and tearing your eyes away from Sunghoon to see her dressed in workout attire hair up and arms crossed in judgment.

Her eyes are jumping between you and Sunghoon across the gym “What the fuck?” You ask, hand over your chest at the sudden intrusion both confused and caught off guard unsure how long she’s been standing there or even how long you were watching him.

“What? Didn’t we sign up for the gym together?” She points out with an almost “Duh” sound following her statement making you scoff at the way she tried to shield blame from herself knowing fully well the shock it is to see her here.

“You haven’t been here in weeks,” you point out crossing your arms to match her energy, still bitter, having gotten to the point you don’t even bother asking if she’ll go.

She waves her hand off playing it off as the past is the past “And I thought you were actually using the gym not just using your membership to stare at Sunghoon,” she turns the conversation to you, something she was very good at doing recently and especially to get details.

“I am using it, he was my boxing instructor,” you pick up one of your weights to demonstrate you using the gym ‘technically’.

“I know, I signed us up for him specifically,” she reminds you that she made the point of vying for boxing lessons, not that you could forget, still mad at her for ditching you, “You’re welcome,” she adds with a smile and subtle wink you don’t miss.

She proceeds to join you on the bench uncaring that you might actually want to work out and not gossip “So have you guys fucked yet? Or are you playing the long game,” she unabashed asks as if he isn’t a few feet away eyes going wide.

“He’s just my instructor,” you hiss out shushing her looking back over to Sunghoon to make sure he hasn’t suddenly appeared next to you like she summoned him or something.

“So not yet then,” she frowns adding in a “boo,” out of disappointment, she looks over at him eyes scanning over him making you more annoyed as you adjust your seat so you’re in the way of her seeing him uncaring as she catches on to your maneuver.

“If you must be so invasive, no we haven’t,”

“Well you should soon, he’s looking right at you,” She brags making you still unsure if she was trying to get a reaction out of you, giving her arm a very light punch and a nervous laugh not daring to look over too nervous she was lying like she usually does.

“Now tell me about this guy you abandoned me to go fuck,” You turn it back on her tiered of her always questioning you wanting to know the details of what her recent reason has been for avoiding the gym.

Letting out an annoyed groan she rubs over her face, “Don’t get me started on him, he’s a great kisser but he was shit at everything else, I mean how is he gonna pass out after only one round, and didn’t even make me cum?” she lets out an exacerbated sigh as she continues on about her failed attempts to find good dick, and a part of you can’t help but consider this her karma.

-------------------

“I’m sorry for crashing your plans to nail that girl,” Jay apologizes to his friend who is mid-set curling a weight, strong biceps on full display with rolled-up sleeves a group of girls by the water fountain conveniently all using it watching the two Jay taking note of a particularly cute girl but Sunghoon keeps working uncaring of his entourage.

“Yeah, you and Heeseung are like permanent cockblocks,” Sunghoon grunts out as he completes a rep working out his frustration from the other day unable to get you in particular off his mind and the way you melted into him.

“You aren’t any better, and you didn’t exactly send a ‘hey guys I’m gonna go ahead and fuck the girl I’m supposed to be instructing,’ text,” Jay tries to argue not that it would have stopped the pair from showing up most likely feigning ignorance.

Leaning down next to his friend Jay decides to explain his reasons for bothering Sunghoon mid-set “But I just happen to have a foolproof plan,” Jay boasts eyes making their way over to a particular duo of giggling girls one happening to be you.

“This isn’t going to be like that new year's party again, is it?” Sunghoon questions skeptical of his friend remembering Jay’s last idea and just how horrible that night ended. Placing the pair of weights on the ground by his feet and letting himself have a small rest period to talk to Jay.

“That… look do you want my help or not?”

Bringing his towel up towards his face to dab the sweat that's built up on his face away “What’s this genius idea of yours?” Sunghoon muses taking in his friend’s annoyance, tipping his water bottle back to let the cool liquid fall down his throat eyes falling over to where you’re sitting across the gym, talking with another girl, laughing.

“I’ll need something from you after but…” He follows his friend’s line of sight over to you, amused. “That can come after,” Jay brings his attention back over to get into the discussion.

“Let’s do it,” Sunghoon can't stand not having you a second longer already intrigued and frustrated, eyes working their way over you not caring that your friend is watching him check you out as he listens to Jay’s plan on how exactly they would get you alone.

——-

Finishing up your set and wiping down your area with sanitary wipes you spot a figure walking towards you out of the corner of your eye moving out of the way so that they could use the equipment walking over to where you set your bag down. Squatting down to find the headphone case you had thrown in haphazardly.

Walking past the cleaned station without a pause making their way over to you. Looking up at the fast-approaching guy you recognize him in an instant in his black muscle tee that shows off his figure arms looking bigger than the last time you saw him, blond hair sticking to his forehead from his own workout, the inescapable Park Sunghoon.

Dabbing away droplets of sweat from your warmup you silently admire the way he manages to look so good even covered in a layer of sweat “What’s up?” You take out your headphones to hear him dropping the case back into your bag.

Looking down at you where you’re squatting down already has his mind turning “I need a practice buddy,” he points over his shoulder towards the practice ring where you’ve watched him and Heeseung go at it a couple of times, always so intimidated by the way they fought always worried one of them could actually get injured.

Going over the request in your head you can’t help the bubbling anxious feeling in your chest “Then go use Jay,” You nod your head over to the mop of Brown hair sitting and gulping down his water on a nearby bench with his head thrown back having just finished his own workout by the way his hair drips in sweat.

“I fight him all the time. I need someone different,” You give him a skeptical look, Sunghoon is a great boxer, and with only one lesson you definitely lacked skill especially to go against someone clearly as seasoned as him, this isn’t like when he was teaching you exactly.

“Don’t you need a challenge? I hardly think beating up a newbie is going to help you get better,” you shove up against the ground to your feet trying to stay resilient and not give in to him.

“Maybe I can teach you a thing or two,” he offers throwing in a “free of charge,” to entice you while dragging you by your wrists closer to the practice ring where you miss the wink Jay sends his friend followed by a thumbs up. “Besides, there's only so much you can do with a bag, the real thing is much harder,” he persuades as if it made sense to just jump right in his thumbs rubbing against your wrist trying to soothe any nerves with a smile.

“I’ll go easy on you, don’t worry,” he assures you, seeing the hesitation drawn across your face with knit eyebrows and an apparent internal battle with yourself as you stare down at his hands holding yours doing more to send goosebumps through your whole body with memories of the last time it was just the two of you in such close proximity.

You know deep down it’s not a good idea that he probably has some ulterior motive but the way he smiles at you makes it so tempting “Look it’s just us here anyways so no one will even see when you lose,” you look over to where Jay was sitting noting his spot now empty looking up at Sunghoon giving a slight nod of affirmation sealing your fate as he perks up practically dragging you over to where they keep some of the spare boxing equipment.

“You better go easy on me,” you warn, grabbing at the pair of gloves that fit you, Sunghoon’s hand on the small of your back drags your mind away from boxing momentarily almost dropping the gloves.

His laugh fills your senses looking up to watch his smile overtake his face “I just want to help you out,” he walks over to his own bag to pick out his personal gloves. Sliding on the gloves you nervously glance over to where Sunghoon is setting up watching when he lifts his shirt up slightly to wipe off some of the sweat that had stuck to his forehead giving you a better look at his toned muscular stomach hard abs shining in sweat caught up in a daze before he drops his shirt watching the way you stare at him flexing his arms to show off how hard he’d been working. When you’re finally done thirsting over your opponent you close your eyes tight trying to picture anything other than Sunghoon’s gorgeous body, thighs rubbing together out of habit.

“You ready?” He’s in front of you when you open your eyes, stretching an arm across his body, muscles flexing with the move as you stumble over your words.

When you do manage to get out an actual answer he’s helping you into the ring plastic mat cool under your bare feet.

As soon as you step into the box his entire demeanor changes he’s watching you like a tiger prepared for your moves like you’re the latest prey. Yeah, you fucked up, You gulp down the nerves stepping closer which he doesn’t show concern from as you bring your fists up, chin tucked just like he taught you.

“Bring your leg back, remember?” Sunghoon points out so you can adjust before you start, your foot goes back angling yourself just like Sunghoon had taught you nerves already getting to you.

“Ready?” He asks tilting his head before taking a similar stance, you gulp down giving the tiniest “yeah,” and just like that it starts, you stay unmoving waiting to see what his first move will be not wanting to be the catalyst that starts it too nervous to throw the first punch, he starts by moving around the outer part of the ring, you following his lead stepping, in turn, shorter legs moving around closer to the center to keep your distance almost too focused on your legs and not tripping and just moving that when he’s moved forward and is now in front of you it catches you off guard.

Sending one of your firsts forward he expertly blocks it, returning it with his own unexpected punch that lands as you wince at the action rubbing at the spot on your arm where he hit. “Don’t let up now,” he reminds you right when he sends another punch your way, and before you can react he’s hitting you in the chest gearing up for another punch that you’re luckily able to block, letting out an annoyed huff taking a shuffle back “Good block,” he’s quick to praise before shuffling forward, longer strides making him closer than previously as you land a punch on his arm that has no effect on him and makes you stumble more than anything.

Recentering yourself and getting your footing he takes the opportunity to punch your side lightly, never fully using his strength, still letting out a groan instinctively going to rub it but before you know it he’s shuffling forward, so close that out of shock, you step back, feet colliding together tripping yourself and sending you backward hitting the mat you can feel the air leave your lungs trying to gasp a breath down at the impact.

Sunghoon wastes no time in shedding his gloves throwing them to the side before he’s on top of you pinning you down on the ground too easily only using one of his hands to hold the two of yours down at the wrists above your head while you just attempt to regain your breath from the hit chest moving up and down with each struggling breath gasping for air with his weight on top of you, not completely but enough to restrict the airflow.

“Get off… of me,” you’re finally able to huff out between heavy inhales his body which is slotted in between your legs and on top of you is restricting your already struggling airflow, attempting to pull your hands downwards and free only for his grip to tighten keeping you still, a satisfied smile covering his face enjoying the way you struggle against his strength.

“Are you okay?” It’s an odd question considering that he’s the reason for your struggling on and off the mat, and in any other circumstance it would be a sweet gesture but not right in this moment “I’ll be better once you let me go,”

You let out a high-pitched frustrated whine struggling to get free, a sound, Sunghoon enjoys a little too much with an increasingly hard situation forming in his shorts you attempt to pull your arms down once again before trying to push up off the mat which is impossible, as your hips meet his keeping you down, Sunghoon has to hold back from moaning at the movement. “What happened to going easy on me?” You pout still trying to get your hands free bulky gloves not helping unable to grip anything so with no luck you lay there under him limply.

“I was,” he wipes the loose strands of hair out of your face with his free hand subtly tracing over your features with every brush showing no signs that he’s tired. You scoff at the claim hints of the strawberry smoothie you had earlier still on your breath which hits Sunghoon’s nose.

“Since when did this turn into wrestling?” You attempt to push up but his body keeps you in place pressing against his “Since you lasted a minute at most,” he estimates letting you struggle against him rutting up to try and push him off only doing more to make him hard every push forward as he keeps you grounded under him.

You resort to wrapping your legs around his waist for any kind of leverage trying to move him by shifting all your weight side to side without any luck the only thing you’re doing is grinding against Sunghoon’s lower half forcing him to release a low grunt with the stimulation you’re providing, “What do I have to do for you to get off of me,” you give in, laying your head back against the mat in defeat, tired of fighting, wasting the little strength you do have, it’s clearly having no effect on him as he’s not even breathing heavily.

“I have a couple of ideas,” his free hand moves to play with the band of your shorts making you gulp down your throat going dry “If you’re up to it, of course,” he presses down on you further with his hips boner evident as soon as he rolls his hips against yours making you realize exactly what you did in your struggle to get free.

A choked gasp leaves your lips eyes widened looking down between the two of you noticing the evident hard-on he’s developed straining against the front of his gym shorts slowly raising your eyes and meeting his playful gaze “What do you say?” Face leaning in closer to yours, noses now brushing against each other.

A ping of worry hugs your chest “What if someone walks in?” You can’t help but be anxious letting your head fall to the side attempting to glance over at the double doors, vision obscured by a pillar.

Sunghoon cups your jaw bringing your face forward towards him so you have to look at him “Don’t worry, Jay’s making sure no one comes in,” he assures you a droplet of sweat landing on your forehead as he holds your face straight.

“He’s in on this?” If you could hit him in the chest, you would but with your hands tied up at the moment all you’re able to do is look at him dumbfounded, mouth slightly agape blinking up at him.

“Yeah, told him I’d let him beat me to impress this cam girl he’s been obsessing over, so what do you say?” his mouth hovers above yours, lips tempting you.

You can’t deny the way he makes your hormones go haywire with even the slightest proximity and how often he’s been circling around your brain recently especially late at night in your room with nothing but your fingers to satisfy you “Aren’t you curious?” he shoves into you again, any apprehensive thoughts leaving your mind hot breath over your lips.

“Fuck it,” you concede leaning upwards to press your lips to his, difficult with your hands above your head but he presses back forcing you back sandwiched between himself and the mat, lips crashing into yours with haste, working his hands to get the boxing gloves off your hands as you feel lost in his lips working expertly against yours, tongue pressing into your mouth for more, it’s intoxicating letting him take control his lips working with desperation over yours.

Shoving the gloves off you roll your wrists adjusting to the new freedom, Sunghoon’s hands instantly start traveling down your body squeezing occasionally over your curves hands pressing your hips down with a bruising grip keeping you in place and letting you know he’s still running the show.

With free hands you sneak them under his shirt curious touch moving over his abdomen, tracing over every dip and defined line of his abdominal muscles counting as his shirt raises the higher your touch goes forcing him to break the kiss and throw it off for you to admire the body you’ve only gotten teasing peeks at up until now, he’s towering over you straddling your lap “Don’t think I haven’t seen the way you’ve been staring at me, begging like a slut for me to fuck you,” You mindlessly nod biting your lower lip to hide the embarrassing whine you want to let out, reaching out to feel him again, before you can he’s fast to capture your wrists pinning them next to your body making you struggle again wiggling to try and get free and feel him again.

“Wait your turn,” he reminds you that he’s still got the upper hand kissing over your neck painfully agonizing taking his time.

Making his way downwards peppering kisses along your collarbone until he meets the top of your bra eyes fixated on yours maintaining eye contact “Keep your hands off,” he pauses kissing over the top of the bra you’re wearing “Until I get this off,” You let out a frustrated whine but obliged his request nodding, not trusting your voice, letting up his grip on your wrists you resist the temptation to cling to him taking in a deep inhale chest rising looking all the more enticing kissing over the fabric and around, driving you crazy with each avoiding move you distract yourself by tugging your shorts down partially, trying to give your hands something to do until he gives you what you want.

Finally, his hand is pulling at the zipper in front, grateful you chose to wear a sports bra with easy access. It feels like forever as he unveils more of your chest until you feel the fabric separate, cold air from the air conditioner blasting hitting your chest making you shudder. a low groan from Sunghoon “fuck you’re perfect,” follows as he’s quick to make contact with your chest lips wrapping around one breast making you mewl out eyes shutting struggling to shrug off the fabric arching upwards towards him assisting only by lifting your back upwards closer to him and his mouth making you whimper.

As soon as your bra is shoved off your needy touch clings to him, like honey you’re a fly trapped in his presence grabbing onto his broad shoulders his tongue swirling over the hard bud making you moan out loudly, bouncing off the walls of the empty area. Core dripping with arousal rutting against his thigh subtly to try and get more relief, impatient, not going unnoticed by him.

Releasing your breast with a pop he shoves the shorts you got half off all the way down with one strong yank “What were you saying about my hands the other day?” He asks, kissing up your jaw to your ear fingers ghosting over your clothed core in a teasing manner making you shudder with anticipation.

“Mmmm, they feel so nice,” you recall the moments before you got interrupted, overwhelming thoughts now coming true better than you imagined.

“They do?” He presses down against the fabric of your underwear, feeling how wet you’ve already got them, hips bucking up for more pressure making you whimper “You’re soaked,” he remarks letting your head nod yes “for you,” you desperately breathe out needing more pushing your underwear deeper seeping in your desire.

You’re groaning out at the teasing wanting him to do something about to whine out for more before you feel him pulling your underwear to the side he can feel exactly how slicked up you’ve gotten two fingers teasing your folds purposefully ghosting over your clit until you let out a loud complaint “Please Hoon!” You beg, trying to buck your hips for just a little more, Sunghoon’s low laugh hitting your ears, “Please what? Sluts know what they want.” He stills his movements completely making you cry out, pathetic over Sunghoon.

“Your fingers, Please, Please, need them in- '' You moan out when you feel him press two digits in, arching upwards sound of your skin lifting up off the mat previously stuck to it from the mixture of heat and sweat. Starting at an agonizingly slow pace working his fingers in and out of you listening to the way you let out pathetic noises pulling his fingers almost fully out before sinking back into your heat occasionally spreading his fingers out for more of an impact “More, please, Hoon, I need more,” giving into your begs he changes up to a brutal pace, fingers moving in and out quicker than you can register thumb moving over your clit making you let out incoherent babbles he knows exactly what he’s doing watching the way you turn into a puddle under him letting out pretty high pitched noises.

Curling his fingers to hit different areas you’re a mess, wet noises sounding out with every press inward trying to contain your high mouth biting down on his shoulder, you practically yell out when he finds your sweet spot, “Right there,” he angles his fingers to hit that spot repeatedly you’re squeezing down on his fingers with a vice “Gonna cum-” you mumble out against his neck your mind going fuzzy begging to reach that familiar high which is so close a series of whimpers leaving your mouth until the minute he retracts his fingers making you curse out “no, no, no Stop playing with me,” You’re pathetic begging dripping in sweat desperate for him to let you win arousal leaking out onto the mat under you, lips grazing over yours looking into his eyes with the most pleading look you can muster your nails dig into his back.

He presses his lips to yours for a brief kiss before he’s speaking against your mouth “Losers don’t get to cum before me,” He points out taking no pity on you with a jutted-out lip gripping onto his back, nails probably leaving marks as you nod “Take your prize then” your hand wanderers downwards between you both pausing over the evident bulge straining against the fabric of his shorts your finger trails over it teasing him as he did you while sizing up just how big he is gulping down. “Open,” Sunghoon tells you watching the way you almost instantly open your mouth, the fingers he had just taken out of you pushing into your mouth for you to lick clean of your own arousal. Starting to palm over the fabric making him curse out lowly when you squeeze over the base unsteady breaths leaving his lips as he watches the way you move your hand over his underwear working up a pace, strokes getting progressively quicker while sucking on his fingers at the same time, it feels sinful.

“Keep going,” he encourages hissing out when you slip your cold hand into the material wanting to feel him completely, heavy in your hand and warm you work over him. He’s bigger than you thought as you tease his tip where precum is leaking out making him throw his head back a low groan leaves his mouth, muscles tensing, and he pulls his fingers out of your mouth dripping in saliva.

Hand wrapping around your wrist to still your movements looking up at Sunghoon, raising an eyebrow at him “Why do you want me to stop?” You question, face coming closer to yours “Because I want to see you ride me,” he pulls your hand out of his pants wanting to avoid cumming in his pants before he even gets to feel you.

Pushing his shorts and boxers down in one movement, letting his dick hard and aching for release rest against your stomach making you gulp down seeing the mere size you let out a whimper satisfying him as he lets out a soft chuckle, “Not even in you yet and you’re making all these noises.” he taunts pulling your underwear that wasn’t even coving your core off to join his.

“You can take it, be my good little slut,” he kisses the tip of your nose dick pressing against your stomach showing you just how deep he’s going to be in you making you clench around nothing but needing him “You’re so big,”.

Maneuvering the two of you so that you’re on his lap straddling him “Show me you can take it,”. You grind down on him which elicits a moan as you smile to yourself before positioning his dick at your entrance slowly taking your time to sink down on him as you moan directly into his ear while he starts to suck on your neck. He bucks his hips up ever so slightly on purpose making you let out another surprise moan.

“Fuck Sunghoon, you’re huge” you pant out holding onto his shoulders to steady yourself and prepare yourself already squeezing down on him barely halfway in. Hands gripping your hips he uses his thumbs to rub soothingly against your skin trying his best not to fuck you from below.

He watched the way your face contorts gasping out with every inch eyes squeezing shut in preparation “Pussy keeps sucking me in asking for more,” He eyes stay trained on where the two of you meet watching the way he’s almost fully inside feeling the way you squeeze down on him, it’s addictive.

“Almost there,” he’s impatient wanting to let you adjust but his hips jump up and he’s fully sheathed inside of you making you gasp out at the deepness hugging onto his shoulders to steady yourself resting your forehead against his.

He’s rubbing at your side smiling “wanna see you bounce,” he says after giving you a few seconds to adjust still squeezing him tightly still shocked at the way you managed to take him all.

He’s assisting you with small movements starting with rocking up and down “Just like that baby,” he lets you take over the movement feeling the way you wrap around him when he fills you up, you’re moving up and down more still trying to work up a quicker pace.

It’s not like you’ve never ridden anyone before but it’s been a while and never anyone nearly as big as Sunghoon who seems to be reaching new places inside of you.

You keep your small bounces Sunghoon’s hips moving up to meet yours making you clench down hard letting out a noise that’s somewhere between shock and pleasure, a sound Sunghoon only wishes he could record and replay over and over.

“Making me do all the work? Come on baby show me how much you want it,” you don’t fight him as you just continue to bounce on his cock working yourself up higher before coming down you can feel yourself starting to sweat, legs wobbly as you continue your movements rising and falling working you both up.

Sunghoon whispers words of approval reveling in the feeling of you and how deep he presses into you tightness engulfing him in pleasure. You’re caught off guard when you feel his lips wrap around one of your buds making you stall your hips stilling momentarily trying to focus on Sunghoon. A sharp sting on your thigh follows making you hiss out at the pain, a part of you loves it though squeezing down on him with the sensation.

He lets out a curse at the feeling head falling back slightly “Keep going,” he soothes over the spot he slapped as lightly as he can frustration building as you start to bounce struggling to build up a rhythm again.

“You can do better than that,” he encourages hands resting on your waist assisting you to ride him, taking him deeper and faster as you shake your head no with a choked-out sound with your hands on his shoulders trying to use him as leverage to bounce.

Hips jumping up to meet yours he impatiently fucks up into you, your legs shaking with every bounce “Going to have to work those legs out more,” he makes note eyes watching the way your bodies connect taking him, getting sloppy with louder whines “Please Hoon, I can’t” you’re begging for mercy head shaking that you can’t keep up.

“You’re not going to like it very much when I’m pinning you down again making sure you can’t touch me,” he grunts out with a particularly rough up movement making you release a choked-out noise legs on the verge of giving up on you hips stalling once again.

Slowing down you shake your head “Sure Sung-“You’re caught off guard when he follows through with the threat hands previously on your waist sliding down looping under your thighs swiftly changing up the position so you’re roughly knocked back onto your back with your legs pressed up against your chest Sunghoon still inside you maybe even deeper with the change-up.

“-Hoon!“ you gasp out a breath, air knocked out from the sudden impact saying he took your breath away, literally, was an understatement. Struggling to catch your breath his hips start to move again not leaving you any time to adjust as he’s almost pulling out completely before plunging back in making you feel the full effect of him gasping out. Catching your breath his pace is faster with one leg over his shoulder you try and find something to grip onto, but nothing is available pushing you deeper into the mat with every stroke.

“Don’t test me, this is what you wanted,” he grits out continuing to fuck you out of breath heavy breathing filling the air your hands finding purchase on his back arching up with a cry “Feel so good, so full, Please Hoon-” your eyes try and focus on his face and the intensity of his eyes drinking you up as he fucks into you eyebrows knit and a vein along his neck protruding.

Sunghoon’s fingers find their way to your clit applying barely any pressure having you react hips jumping forward and clenching around him harder with a loud gasp “fuck just like that, begging for me,” He moans lips attaching to your neck sucking over the skin adding to the sensitivity you’re feeling only adding to the build-up feeling yourself coming closer hands falling down to his arms holding onto him.

“Please, Hoon!” Your nails dig into his bicep surely leaving a mark for him to see later as you’re inching closer to your release applying more pressure every bit more making your mind fuzzy with pleads and begs.

“I-Mmmm,” you feel the words get lost in your throat but he can tell what you want to say with the way you’re squeezing down on him impossibly hard making him work extra to fuck you through it droplets of sweat building across his brow.

“Wait,” he warns voice deep you are practically in tears trying to hold off your release shaking your head no mumbling out incoherent words begging for him to let you cum knowing that the tears would start if you attempt to hold off any longer.

You’re shaking your head with rough breaths “Please please please, it’s too good, can't hold it,” and you can't as you snap before he allows you to letting your release wash over you as Sunghoon is fucking you through your orgasm hips crashing into yours thrusts getting sloppy before he presses fully flush against your hips emptying his balls and cumming with shallow breaths.

Neither of you speaks for a moment too intense, trying to catch your breath and come down from both your highs staying as you both ended the only sounds are from both of you breathing and hearts pumping and pounding in your ear slowly subsiding, “Fuck,” is the first thing you say earning a small laugh from your instructor who pushes his hair out of his face to look at you better before he lightly slaps your thigh making you jump still sensitive, “That’s for cumming before me, loser,” He slowly slides out of you hissing out at the feeling.

Legs still shaky after your previous orgasm Sunghoon watches the way his cum spills out of you down your thigh onto the mat below as he takes a finger pressing some of his releases back into you making you whine out still sensitive. “Couldn’t help it, you’re too good,” You try and sit up groaning at the soreness you can already feel laying back down.

“Fuck Hoon,” You’re able to get out head falling to the side to look at him.

“So you want a round two then?” he cocks his head to the side smiling so you can see both his canines' lines of sweat framing the side of his face

——-

This was my first time kinda publishing smut so go easy on me thx XOXO -SunghoonsSlut

Also have never boxed before in my life 💀 and have had this in the drafts since like September so if it flops pretend you never saw this because I’ve just been up and down with my motivation with writing this one 😬

#enhypen smut #sunghoon smut #kpop smut #enha smut #park sunghoon smut #enha hard hours #sunghoon hard hours #sunghoon x reader #sunghoon fic #enhypen ff #enhypen hard hours #enha sunghoon #sunghoonsSlutStories

2K notes · View notes

page-matcha · 5 months

Text

cafe manager!taehyun x cafe worker!reader

warnings: smut, slightly public sex, swearing, spanking, not actually that much smut, barely edited 😭

a/n - I wanted to write something to try and get over my writers block c:

---♡

Working at a popular cafe is hard. So many customers rush in and out, there's barely enough room for anyone in the small room. And you, being a shy introvert, found it very hard to work as a full time cashier and talk to so many people in a day. But the job payed well so who are you to complain

You're fairly new to this job, so you're still not used to interacting with customers but you try your best. Today was particularly harsh on you though.

It was the usual morning rush. People lining up to get their morning coffee to help get them through the day. But for some reason you were so exhausted. So tired, so nervous, and there are so many people waiting for you to take their order. This felt like the hundredth customer you had just in the last hour.

"Could I have the weekly special?" The lady infront of you asked politely.

"Ah... sure. Whats the weekly special again?" You turn to look behind you at the drink menu while the lady looks at you with a confused but patient expression. "Oh right, that." You give the lady an apologetic look as you go to make her drink, stumbling over yourself out of embarrassment.

Your manager, your stupid annoying manger, laughed as he watched you. Taehyun. God, he was always on your case. Pointing out every little thing you did wrong and getting annoyed with you over the smallest things. So of course, what did you expect when he started scolding you for forgetting what this week's special was.

"God, y/n. You do this all the fucking time." Taehyun let's out an exasperated breath. "Look, I get you're new here but how could you mess up something as simple as that?"

"Like the name says, it changes every week. I'm bound to forget what it is at least once..." you grumble.

"You do this way too often. We need to do something about this otherwise you'll drive all of our customers away."

"That's a bit dramatic but ok.."

Taehyun asks you to stay for a bit after the Cafe closes. Apparently he knows a good method he wants to show you that will help you memorize orders better.

A few hours later you find yourself pinned against the cafes front counter, Taehyuns cock slamming harshly into you.

"What are the steps for making our strawberry lemonade?" He asks, sucking a mark onto your neck.

You whimper, tears of pleasure running down your face. "I-i don't know!" Your brain is turned to mush. You can't remember anything about any steps or recipe.

Taehyun asks you again, landing a hard smack to your ass. "What. Are. The steps?"

---♡

Lets just say after that night... you decided it would be better to just work in the back cleaning dishes instead.

#matcha writes!#matcha.mature #taehyun x you #taehyun x y/n #taehyun x reader #taehyun #taehyun hard hours #taehyun hard thoughts #taehyun smut #taehyun fic #txt #txt x y/n #txt x you #txt x reader #txt fanfic #txt smut #txt hard hours #txt hard thoughts

206 notes · View notes

gasolinerainbowpuddles · 2 months

Text

I'm here to share another brave yet controversial take.

(This is strictly about smut in fics - not plot points, characterizations, etc.)

I think there is a fundamental difference in how different ages interact with smut in fics. In my personal experience and preference, the hottest smut I've read has come from writers whose bios say 30+ or from writers who are close to that age. I think there are factors that contribute to this:

LIFE EXPERIENCE — This doesn't strictly mean number of partners (although I do believe that helps). The older you are, the more people you've come across, and this builds a bigger worldview that allows for nuance and a more understanding of how things move and interplay. It exposes you to more interpersonal dynamics, which are a huge part of sexuality imo.

SCIENCE — Our brains aren't done cooking until around 25. This means logic, decision making, patience, thinking things through, not letting emotions be the driving force behind our actions, etc. don't really solidify until we're well into our formative adult years. This ties into my first point in regards to how a person navigates their world, and there is a different level of understanding that comes with a fully developed brain.

SEXUAL PRIME — Late 20s to mid 40s is considered to be the sexual peak for women (I'm focusing on women because fic writing is mostly women). Heightened sexual fantasies and experiences align with women in that age range, and I think that is an essential factor in creating fantasies that are more erotic and visceral through writing. There is also a confidence that comes with knowing what you want, what you like, how to get those things, comfortability in expressing your sexuality and actively utilizing it, etc.

CRAFT EXPERTISE — Many of the 30ish year old writers I have seen have written for numerous other fandoms over the span of at least a decade, sometimes more. When you've been doing something for that long, it makes sense that their works would be more finely tuned in content and prose.

INTEREST — Writing fic takes a lot of time and effort - emotional and mental. If someone is around the age of 30, chances are they've got more on their plate than someone younger. Maybe they've got more job responsibilities because they've moved up to a managerial position. Maybe they've had a kid or two. Maybe they have dogs and a partner they live with and have to tend to those things in addition to whatever else going on. My point is, somebody who has a lot going on in their life and still makes the effort to write and share fic HAS TO have a strong desire to do it because it is very time consuming.

I'm sure there are more points that I've left out, but this is just what came to mind immediately. I've seen a lot of weird ageist takes on who "should be" writing smut, as if you suddenly stop being horny when you hit 24 or something.

In all honesty, maybe readers who don't enjoy smut written by 30ish year old writers just aren't ready for it? Maybe if you're 19, you're not going to resonate with someone who is in a later point in their life because you haven't come to that maturity yet? And, no, that's not me saying you can't enjoy it because you're "immature." I'm saying you're not there in your life yet, so it's perfectly fine to prefer works from someone who is more of a peer to you.

So perhaps if you find yourself age shaming, applying morality to sexuality, and denigrating fic writers who are 30ish+, maybe just stick with reading fic and smut by people who are where you're currently at in life?

#a word from puddles #fic writers

122 notes · View notes

brights-place · 19 days

Note

hi!! i saw your requests were closed, but i REALLY REALLY love your writing style so if you find time please think about it!

i want to request an N$FW tendou with aftercare if that’s okay!! ᕦ(ò_óˇ)ᕤ

Googly Eyes

Pairings: Tendou X Reader

Warnings: MDNI !! Fluff, Aftercare, Smut, Doggy Style, Cowgirl

A/N: Minors Do not Interact !! I haven't written in so long due to school and I'm so tired of stuff and writers block got a grip on me. Literally Me with him right now when I write for him whenever I get the chance too ( ˶˘ ³˘(⋆❛ ہ ❛⋆)!♡ - I'm sorry but he seems like the guy to like biting and marking to tease you with later on the next day - praising you for actions? thats rare as fuck he will degrade your ass as he watches you fall into his lap as tendou whispers all the dirty things on his mind into your ear just to feel you squirm and whine clinging to him - His fingers and tongue are a blessing and a curse the way his tongue laps around your bud as he teases you with his lidded eyes while one hand pushes you to keep you down to the bed and including his fingers into you to add more pace and ecstasy - Everybody knows he’s a lil teasing shit but he’s got skill !! - he always pays attention to every little detail. Your grip in his hair got a little tighter when his fingers grazed that one spot? WELP he’ll graze it again and two times more after that. - his tongue laps around one spot and your thighs shaky okay maybe he'd continue to edge you on the spot with that spot - TENDOU THIS MAN ! I KID YOU NOTTT WILL EDGE YOU !! he will edge you to no end he LOVES building you up just to hear you cry and beg for him to make you cum to make you finish and how unfair he was for doing this - broken moans fill the room every single time - Every time each ram of his hips bumps the head of his leaky cock against your favourite spot. your body practically feels like it’s melting into goop and your mind is so foggy you barely manage to make any noises - Okay listen tendou PLUS using toys just to piss you off - toys would be used for fun and also to try new things he is open to everything but the one time you pegged him he literally didn't know how to feel but on special days if you want to try he'll let you but he mostly enjoys having you being stuffed by him - He always likes to prep you properly with his fingers and/or using his tongue - Sometimes Tendou likes being restrained. he thinks it’s so hot when you tie his hands up and ride him or bounding him down sometimes - Tendou is the worst tease on the face of this Earth. He's mean too, loves to degrade you and make you blush about how well he eats you and how he always leaves you begging for more.

- His kinks are Breeding kink, Predator/Prey, Degrading, Overstimulation, Mind break, Creampie,

- grunts and moans lightly while fucking your brains out - Loves when you drool and whimper loudly but sometimes he has to force you to be quiet when you do it

- He loves having control when you are doing it so he likes stopping his movements on purpose just to hear you whine and beg for him to go back to railing you

- might grope you every now and then just for fun

- he’d just deny it with an smirk How he’d be turned off… if you call him master he finds that weird, open relationship, threesome (he wouldn't mind doing it with ushijima though cause he finds it fun) - When he praises you while your riding him and blushing an deep red on your face as he whispered the praises in your ear as you move faster and kiss him lovingly - After care is not his greatest strength - But he pampers you, cleans you up and helps you when you need help - He loves to run a bath and makes sure to put clothes on you if your too tired - Tendou loves to go over to you and makes sure your comfy and relaxed he loves and cherishes you so he'd help relax you while in bed rubbing your back and soothing you while praising you for your hard work - HOPE YOU ENJOYED THIS :DD

reblogs + comments are appreciated ⸜(｡˃ ᵕ ˂ )⸝♡

©brights-place 2023 — do not repost on another platform, copy, translate or edit my works! if you fit my DNI list please don't interact

52 notes · View notes

milksnake-tea · 1 month

Note

Dunno if you've ever answered an ask like this before, but do you mind telling us about your mutuals?

Rather, their writing styles and how they interact (No pressure if this sounds like I'm intruding on a boundary or something, I've noticed that you reblog a lot of works and I'm trying to find more fic writers from HSR and Genshin to support, but sometimes it feels a little scary 😅)

HELP NO IT'S OKAY !!! no fear in asking, we love people like you <333 these are mainly the mutuals that i've read fics from so that i can actually tell you how they write but still. THIS IS GOING TO BE A LONG ONE STRAP IN FOLKS. if i forgot ygs im sorry oops... also sorry for the tag COUGHS (esp to the ppl i keep tagging when i get asked abt my moots BYE kawa skip mhie naru ren im so sorry i love you i swear)

@generalsmemories

NARU !!! ONE OF MY FIRST EVER HSR MOOTS AND ONE OF THE WRITERS I LOOK UP TO THE MOST. her writing style is very scenic?? if i were to describe it, it's very dreamy and whimsical and it's like reading a fantasy book. very descriptive but not so descriptive that you're eating fancy words. she's jing yuan centric but occasionally writes for others such as dan heng and sunday! she's honestly very very silly when it comes to interaction, like in an older sister way <33 she talks like an aesthetic if that makes sense

@inarvii

skip has a very elegant feel to her writing like LORD. it's giving noble/fantasy thriller enemies to lovers but in a writing style i love her prose and how she really makes you feel the vibe of a scene. she's really kind and sweet, gives older sister vibes lowkey

@k9wa

kawa is like me but x497842389 cooler and with a lot better grasp on characters. you want proper characterization? you want big brain ideas? GO TO HIM. his writing feels theatric, like a movie or a play. it's so descriptive and he does an amazing job at describing action and characters and GRGRGRGR

@luvether

lord i dont know if its okay to tag you but uhm. hi waves hand 😭😭 honestly i haven't interacted w kou much but from what i can tell she's really nice!! BUT I HAVE READ HER WRITING. AND LAWRD. her writing feels like little snapshots of life, you feel like you're actually like. THERE. she always has the biggest brain of ideas i swear and i highly recommend her writing. mostly fluff with a touch of angst, one of my favorites fr !!

@emiken-070907

hi emi. bet you didn't expect to get tagged here huh. but you have one hsr fic and that's enough for me to slap you onto here and promo you (it's on ao3 and it's not an x reader, but it is a tragedy yanqing timeskip!!! i beta read for that btw flips hair (i still need to edit im so sorry emi please)). as for interaction, she is silly asf. TO ME PERSONALLY? shes like the ratty little sibling that you want to throw out the window but would also kill for. has great vibes over all, she's so sweet but sometimes shes a lil shit so. yeah. idk how she acts to followers but she is like that to ME. but she is full of whimsy and glee so there's that

@rainswept

edgar allan poe incarnate over here??? HELLO??? crow is. her writing is RAW. like okay this is going to get a bit gorey but they write like a freshly opened wound, it's vulnerable, it's poetic, it's pure imagery and i LOVE it. also another goofy moot. i think like just attracts like atp

@tragedy-of-commons

gwen is an absolute SWEETHEART. very silly. BUT THEY'RE SO SWEET. her writing is literally sunlight put into literary terms, if that makes sense. it's warm, comfy, and cozy (except when she kills you in the arms of your favorite character. which she has done) and i highly recommend her writing for a comfy read <3

@iceunhie

mhie is a HATER OF THE HIGHEST ORDER jk i love her she just bullies me GOODBYE 😭 mhie gives off older sister vibes, a lot of people (including me HELP) see her as intimidating but she's really sweet once you get to know her. or she calls you milk. who knows. ANYWAYS genuinely one of the people i look up to most, she always gives amazing feedback on writing and her own writing??? the prose??? she's a master at it. knows how to really elevate a piece and it's just really easy on the eyes. she's also a research writer, her jiaoqiu fic utilizes chinese proverbs and terminology and i think that's really neat <3

@st6rly

hi bottom beta. okay wait sorry you have a reputation i forgot ANYWAYS. SOL IS SUCH A SILLY GOOSE. i love him. BUT HE IS SO GOOFY AND I MEAN THAT IN A POSITIVE WAY. i haven't read that much about what sol writes unfortunately since i'm no longer interested in genshin that much 😭😭 but i've heard good things !! definitely someone you wanna check out if you like good vibes :D

@lowkeyren

ren my pookiebear my LORD !!! resident aquila favonia haver (she has like 21 as of right now) and she serves every time she writes. always gets slapped onto my rec list because she's one of the few writers that genuinely have me kicking and giggling 😭 really cute, really tension filled, one of my favorite authors :))

@scribs-dibs

SUNNIII true to his name his writing feels just so warm and light, like a slice of life anime. very relaxing reads, at least from what i've seen !! very warm, really really cute <33 like the main one that ive read from him is that alhaitham jealousy fic and??? the characterization was ON POINT. i loved it so much (the switch up made me laugh) as for personality. HES FUNNY. LIKE HES STRAIGHT UP HILARIOUS I LOVE HIM GO CHECK HIM OUT I SWEAR ITS WORTH IT

@akutasoda

q has a very pretty vibe if that makes sense, i haven't read much from them but i can definitely say that their writing style is beautiful, like a meadow full of flowers or a quiet stream. they've always been kind to me in that sort of older sibling way, and they're someone that i would trust as an emergency contact. lots of genshin and hsr from what i've seen on my dash, so definitely go check them out!

@aviiarie

avery's on the more reserved side, at least from my point of view, or maybe that's because when i first met them they had a ferminet pfp. they're pretty chill and casual, and can i just say? their writing is very easy to read, it has great flow and i can just lose myself in the fic. like i don't see the words i see what the words are saying, if that makes sense. avery also focuses on platonic writing, although they have been writing some romance with furina!! my personal favorite work of theirs was that fic of arlecchino comforting her crying child because it made me feel so much better about my life at 9 am when i just woke up.

@vynicity

FELICITYYYY she's a mutual in my heart even tho apparently tumblr thinks i dont follow her. but i do. ANYWAYS. another person that i consider on the more reserved side, but she's been fun whenever we talked. can i just say. SHE IS SO GOOD AT WRITING AVENTURINE. there's this one fic down the line about him being drunk??? i think??? and I ATE THAT UP because the tension and atmosphere that she managed to create. just magnificent. she has an aventurine series up right now iirc (i still need to read the new chapter im so sorry feli) and the prologue was. a roller coaster so definitely go check her out!

@vxnuslogy

vee is literally bursting with ideas and by god does she put them to use. i always see them brainrotting or thinking of new ideas or things to write, literally one of the most creative people ive met. can be a little silly, but still a sweetheart <33 her writing is more formal than what i'm used to i'll admit, but still a delight to read nevertheless <33 very descriptive is how i'd describe it, like it feels like she's looking at the scene as shes writing it

@ughscara

ayame is like. the sweetest person i have ever met. like ill be here being a little shit and she'll still be an absolute sweetheart I ALMOST FEEL BAD BECAUSE SHE HAS TO DEAL WITH MY ASS BYE 😭😭 i just recently reblogged one of her works and it straight up feels like it came out of a fairytale, it was so light and sweet <33

#mail 🏵️#anon #mutuals !!#if any of yall dont want to be tagged. please lmk and i will never do it again 😭

62 notes · View notes

horrorhot-line · 1 year

Text

the grandfather paradox

The name comes from the idea that if a person travels to a time before their grandfather had children, and kills him, it would make their own birth impossible.

➵ pairing: saiki kusuo/female! reader (ish)

➵ word count: 5.5k

➵ genre: crack rlly

➵ warnings: none

➵ summary: kaito saiki goes to sleep, only to wake up in the middle of town. on his way back home, he realises he’s managed to time travel and worst of all? stopped his parents from meeting each other like they should have.

➵ masterlist (requests are open)

➵ previous part - brontide

I DO NOT CONSENT TO MY WORK BEING POSTED BY ANYONE ELSE ON ANY PLATFORM

before you read:

‘saiki telepathically communicating with reader.’

‘reader thinking or interacting with saiki through thoughts.’

“saiki talking without moving his mouth.”

“saiki talking using his mouth.”

notes: i realise i’ve done it again and disappeared for a while because writers block got to me. i’ve been really busy with life if i’m being honest and moving houses. i hope you guys enjoy this.

this was requested by anon, here and here.

➵ ➵ ➵ ➵ ➵ ➵ ➵ ➵ ➵ ➵ ➵ ➵

Saiki sat at home in front of his desk with a looming headache. When he woke up that morning, feeling like something was amiss, he had been right.

The psychic brought his gaze down from the ceiling to the pink-haired child before him. How was he supposed to react when the preschooler in front of him claimed to be Kaito Saiki, his son?

"No offence, but can you get over yourself? I need to go back to my timeline."

What a pain.

➵ ➵ ➵ ➵ ➵ ➵ ➵ ➵ ➵ ➵ ➵ ➵

The day started like always. Saiki woke up before his alarm and used his psychokinesis to turn it off before it rang. He took his time wearing his uniform, buttoning up his shirt and folding his tie neatly before looking in the mirror. Not too neat and not too messy, he looked ordinary.

Well, as ordinary as he could look when his control devices poked out of his hair, his green glasses stayed perched on the bridge of his nose. He quietly went downstairs to eat the breakfast Mrs Saiki had already prepared, ignoring his parents acting like long-lost lovers who couldn't keep their hands off each other.

Saiki chewed on his rice absentmindedly, thinking back to when he had first woken up. Nothing had been out of place, yet he couldn't shake the feeling that something had gone wrong. Saiki closed his eyes, placing his chopsticks down when he was finished with his food. He would worry about it later.

For now, he had to make his way to PK academy to repeat the entrance ceremony like he did every year when he had to use mind control and reset time on Earth.

➵ ➵ ➵ ➵ ➵ ➵ ➵ ➵ ➵ ➵ ➵ ➵

You had woken up knowing today would be different. It was your first day at PK Academy, after all! You grabbed the alarm from your bedside table, turning it off to stop the assault of the sudden loud noise on your brain. You lifted the duvet covers off you, groggily getting up to wash your face and make sure you looked presentable for your new high school.

After completing your skincare routine, you fumbled but finally finished throwing on your uniform, struggling to tie the red bow around your neck. When you finally managed to do so, you realised you were running late. "Shit!" You exclaimed, rushing down the stairs, nearly tripping but catching yourself on the railings before you went to grab your shoes.

You didn't have time to sit and eat breakfast, opting to grab a piece of toast as you let your family know you were leaving for school. You haphazardly put your shoes on, grabbing your school bag before leaving the house. Finding your way to PK Academy was pretty easy when you had an app to help you navigate.

You had pulled up google maps on your phone and entered your desired destination before making your way down the street. That's when something in the distance caught your attention. When you noticed pink hair in your peripherals, you turned to your left. Your eyes landed on a small child who was staring right back at you from across the street.

Weird-coloured hair was nothing out of the blue in this universe, something you had to accept as a child. His eye colour was the only thing normal about his appearance- and it was eerily similar to yours. It was rare to see since you never really saw the shade after the age of 4 when you started spouting neon green roots.

What perplexed you the most was trying to understand why this kid had hair clips. You would've chalked it up to his parents choosing to dress him up if it weren't for the fact that- the longer you looked, the more it looked like they weren't hairpins at all.

For one, you were sure hair pins had clips that were visible, even after they were snapped into place. And why did he look like the most unexpressive child you had ever seen? You swore kids were supposed to be carefree, always smiling- not stoic, with eyes that looked dead inside, like that one.

You were distracted when a group of girls walked passed him, and you recognised the uniform. It was the same as yours! Did that mean they went to your school too? The plan was to follow the group of girls you saw in the distance so you could be sure you were going the right way- long forgotten was the strange child you had seen earlier.

Again, that was the plan- but when did anything go your way, really? The answer was never. Before you could cross over to tail the girls, you felt nausea hit you. Your vision swam, and you realised you could barely see straight.

It was unlike anything you had ever felt. Your legs gave out from under you, and you fell to the floor, too distracted by the pain in your head to notice how your hands scraped the concrete pavement when they reached out reflexively to cushion your fall.

You failed to notice the high school boy with similar pink hair walk past you, too distracted by the sickly sweet saliva pooling in your mouth, telling you that you were about to throw up your breakfast. Saiki failed to notice you, too, unable to hear your thoughts which stopped him from acknowledging your existence.

People crowded around you, worried about your health. You couldn't answer them, too busy feeling like your head was being hit repeatedly with a hammer to pick up on what they were saying. The noise around you sounded like they were far away, and anxiety took hold of you as you realised your vision had started to spot black.

And then, as if some miracle had happened, the terrible headache plaguing you dulled, and sound returned to your ears. Your stomach no longer felt like it was doing flip-flops. That's when you noticed a small hand on your back, and when you turned, you came face to face with the pink-haired child you had seen earlier.

"Sleep, mom."

Your brain barely had the chance to question what the kid meant, your eyes closing and your body slumping as you passed out.

➵ ➵ ➵ ➵ ➵ ➵ ➵ ➵ ➵ ➵ ➵ ➵

Kaito Saiki, the son of Y/n L/n and Kusuo Saiki. The child of the most powerful esper to exist and the most potent nullifier.

Unlike his father, whose abilities proved to be a challenge to control, Kaito possessed the ability to nullify his own powers if he chose to. That was thanks to his mother, who could shut off her link to the supernatural if she tried hard enough.

The only issue Kaito faced was that he had no way of stopping his psychic capabilities when he wasn't conscious. Not yet, anyway. He was six, after all, and his father had cursed him with supernatural abilities, which wouldn't have been so bad if only his powers weren't 100 times stronger than Kusuo's. That meant that when Kaito was sleeping, he could blow up Japan with a single sigh.

All was well when you were around because you could stop his powers from going haywire when you were within 100 metres. The only issue was you had gone on a weekend away to visit your parents, and because Kaito couldn't miss school days, he had to wait until Tuesday for your return.

Initially, the child psychic and your husband Saiki had reassured you that all would be fine because Kaito honestly did think nothing too drastic would happen in your absence.

He had been wrong. Come the first night without you, he realised he grossly underestimated how much your presence affected his power or lack thereof.

After seeing you off at the airport on a Friday afternoon and walking hand in hand with his father home, his face more stoic than his dad's as if that were humanly possible he watched re-runs of shows he had seen you enjoy in the past. It definitely wasn't because he missed having you around.

He wasn't like his dad, Saiki, who spent the day cleaning, occasionally staring off into the distance when he found something you misplaced before putting it back where it needed to be- definitely not. His old man needed to stop overreacting; he was acting like you had left forever! You would be back in 4 days; it wasn't that big of a deal.

Kaito hadn't even realised how tired he was, dozing off on the couch in the living to the sound of automated laughing tracks wishing it was your laugh mixed with them.

When Kaito awoke, it took him a few seconds to realise he wasn't covered in a blanket. If someone paid attention, they'd see his shoulders slightly droop at discovering you weren't there to tuck him in for the next few nights. Sure, his dad would teleport him into his bed, but you would tell Saiki off for risking Kaito waking up. Then again, you weren't there to do that either.

That's when it hit the young psychic; he wasn't in bed or on the couch sinking into the pillows. No, he was in the middle of the city, and it was broad daylight. The loud thoughts of the whole town flooding into his brain was annoying. Kaito lowered the intensity of his powers so that his telepathy only reached a radius of 10 metres, grateful he was his mother's son and had inherited nullification as an ability.

With the tedious voices of a thousand others no longer invading his skull, he could finally think in peace.

People passed by Kaito, paying little attention to him. He recognised his surroundings; he was in the centre of his town. Familiar shops surrounded him, and Kaito began walking, shoving his hands into the pockets of his shorts as he navigated back. Was it just him, or did the stores around him look different? And why did the style of the clothes people wore around him look old-fashioned?

Kaito guessed he had teleported in his sleep, but he couldn't, for the life of him, wrap his head around why something felt off. He ignored the sinking feeling in his stomach. Was he ill? No, that wasn't possible. Something as ridiculous as sickness couldn't affect him. None of that mattered; for now, his only focus was walking down the familiar road that led past PK Academy to get to his house.

Letting out a sigh at how bothersome the situation was, Kaito let his feet drag him forward. When little kids around his age ran past him laughing as they played tag on their way to kindergarten, he rolled his eyes.

If he decided to smite them off this Earth, it'd be okay, right? No, he shook his head. You would definitely get angry at him if he did. And he wouldn't want you to be upset at him.

How annoying; the people around him were like rats. He didn't mind them, but they were still nuisances.

All was okay- until it wasn't. Kaito made the mistake of looking up from his shoes to the swarm of people trying to get to school early in the morning when his eyes landed on familiar hair. Squinting his eyes, his feet slowed as he tried to get a better look across the crowd, and then his gaze landed on your face. For the first time in his life, Kaito was shell-shocked.

Granted, his expression stayed the same, but he wondered if he had actually contracted some type of illness because his stomach dropped to his feet.

He didn't like the feeling, and he definitely didn't like how it got increasingly worse when you turned to look at him. If Kaito had the ability to express his emotions better, he was sure he'd be scrunching his nose. He only deadpanned at you, wanting to clench his jaw at how there was no softness behind your eyes when your gaze landed on him.

The adoration your eyes usually held was nowhere to be found; you looked at him as if he was a stranger. That's when it hit him. Kaito had managed to time travel. Your school uniform, smile lines barely visible on your face and your shortened height. All of it made sense to him.

You raised your eyebrow at Kaito before a group of girls clad in the same clothes as you seemed to catch your attention. That's when he saw it. Pink hair, same as his, topped with the exact same hair clips he wore. His father had just walked past him.

Kaito didn't catch a good look, not with Saiki's back facing him. The young psychic hadn't realised he had stopped walking until then. When he went to move forward, continuing on his journey, his new goal being to find a secluded place so he could collect his thoughts and find a way to get back to his current timeline, he stopped dead in his tracks.

Kaito had never been an expressive child, something he was sure most parents would worry about if he was anyone else's kid. He wasn't, though; he was yours, which meant no matter how stoic or ungrateful he came off, regardless of what you did for him, you always welcomed him with open arms and a smile on your face.

The child esper guessed he loved his parents, even if he didn't show it. The warm feeling he would get in his heart was evidence of that- every time he saw you and Saiki. He wasn't sure why, but he would always favour you over his father.

Maybe it was something about how understanding and patient you were with him that tugged at his heartstrings like no other.

So Kaito forgot all about precaution, and his brain blanked when he saw you collapse to the floor, falling to your knees as if you had lost all your strength. Of course, he knew why; you had told him of yours and Saiki's meeting, that his dad's powers took a toll on you the first time you were in his vicinity.

Should he get rid of his dad? Permanently? He was the cause of your pain, after all.

Kaito got rid of the intrusive thought as quickly as it had appeared; if he did kill Saiki, he'd never have been born. And that meant he'd never see you again. There were more pressing issues at hand; he was sure you were on the verge of fainting, no doubt feeling nauseous.

What else could have happened when his father walked past you that morning, not knowing of your presence or the effect he had on you as he passed you by to get to PK Academy? Of all the moments in time Kaito could have travelled to, this had to be by far the worst. Judging by how Saiki didn't spare a glance at you, he had yet to meet you.

Crowds of people swarmed you to make sure you were okay, obstructing Kaito's view of you. He wanted to blast them away with his powers; they weren't helping. Saner heads prevailed.

For the first time in his life, urgency came before all else. If anyone saw him teleport to you, he'd deal with it later; Kaito's main priority was making sure you were okay first. He appeared behind you instantly, ignoring the people around him, only focusing on you.

Kaito closed his eyes, placing the small of his hand on your back as he imagined a void around him, willing it to grow to a metre's radius, covering the two of you. He had successfully blocked out any of his dad's powers, hoping the nullification would at least relieve some of the pain you felt.

When he opened his lids, you turned to look up at him. "Sleep, mom," Was all he said to you, and he watched as you slumped back, his right arm catching you. The only reason his mind control affected you was because he was born from you. When he had grown up, he had questioned you on it before.

You had chalked it up to the fact that since he was your child, there was a bond between you that you shared, so there were no 'broken strings' between the two of you. Kaito was grateful for that fact now as he picked you up in his arms with ease.

He ignored the crowd's shock at his strength and the murmurs of the people surrounding him and you. Turning to face the tall strangers in front of him, using mind control, he willed them to forget what they had seen today before teleporting to his maternal grandparent's house, where he was sure you were still living.

He was grateful the house was empty, guessing your parents had gone off to work already. Kaito placed you on the couch silently before he left, sparing you one last glance as he did.

Good grief.

➵ ➵ ➵ ➵ ➵ ➵ ➵ ➵ ➵ ➵ ➵ ➵

This was catastrophic. By catching your attention earlier, Kaito was sure he had just meddled with his parent's first meeting. Had he not been there, you wouldn't have stopped for a few seconds to look at him; you would have headed to school like normal and met Saiki later on.

The whole thing was a domino effect. Kaito knew his fair share when it came to time travel and was also aware that when anyone did jump timelines, the only smart thing to do was to be an unnoticeable bystander. Don't touch anything, don't talk to anyone and try not to get seen.

Something as simple as moving a pencil from its original place to a different location could change how events play out. If Kaito had known he'd travelled to the past in his sleep, he never would have walked the streets without a care in the world.

Kaito had caused a grandfather paradox. A theory that if one travelled back in time and assassinated their grandfather before he had children, they could make their own birth impossible. Kaito had caused a paradox, alright- except it was with his dad minus the killing, too, of course.

The damage was already done, and there was no use pondering over regrets and what-ifs. At this point, Kaito would have travelled back to the future, but he had changed a major event in the timeline- and that would be his parent's love story. That meant if he went back now, there was a possibility that his parents may have never met each other; even worse, he might not exist anymore.

This was why his dad had warned him not to mess with time travel; messing with the timeline had ended in world war 3 for Saiki. Kaito originally wanted to go back a day, but factoring in how he had yet to grasp his powers properly, he might go back in time to when you and Saiki hadn't been born.

He didn't want to risk it, so he decided he would do the next best thing.- get the help of his father, who was still in high school. Saiki had better control over his psychic powers than Kaito did.

With a plan in mind, he got up from the park swing he was sitting on to teleport to his paternal grandparent's house this time. Judging by how the sun was already setting, the school day for his father should already be there.

Kaito sat on the bed, with Saiki perched on his desk chair in front of him.

If Kaito had the ability to laugh, he guessed he would have when he first appeared in front of his father. The older psychic had been shell-shocked, and if it weren't for the fact that Kaito knew he still had contacts in, Kaito would have theorised he had managed to petrify his dad with how he was frozen in place.

"Who the hell are you?" Kaito only raised an eyebrow at his father's colourful words. Would the correct response be to scoff in this situation? Who knew his father lacked brain cells as a teenager? "I'm your son."

Saiki deadpanned at him, his lips parted and his eyes covered by the light reflecting off of his green glasses. "What?"

Kaito sighed- why was the man in front of him so slow? "Can't you tell by reading my mind?" Kaito shot back before realising Saiki probably couldn't. Maybe he should cut the older esper some slack; having a stranger appear out of nowhere only to claim he's your son must come as a shock. "You might want to sit down; this may take a while."

"I'm already sat down."

"It was a figure of speech."

After explaining his life story to Saiki, from how he saw his mother on the street to how the original timeline was supposed to go and how Kaito had messed things up by distracting you, he snapped his eyes back to look at his dad, who looked like he had just gone through the five stages of grief in one sitting.

"I need your help; I need you to time travel back a day and take me with you so I can make sure things happen the way they should." Kaito was sure he hadn't inherited your patience, but boy, did he wish he had because Saiki was starting to annoy him with how slow he was in catching on.

"There's no way you're my son." Was he allowed to smack his dad into next week? It'd be fine since you weren't there to scold Kaito. The young psychic purged the idea from his brain, he needed his dad's help after all, and the man was no use to him if he was unconscious- or dead. "That's it. I'm going to Uncle Kusuke for help."

Kaito got up from his seat on Saiki's bed, acting as if he was ready to leave. Of course, he wouldn't go, but pretending like he would to get his way wouldn't hurt anyone, would it? If Kaito and Saiki had anything in common, it was the fact that they shared a mutual dislike for Kusuke Saiki. "Wait. I can't have my brother find out about this."

The corners of Kaito's mouth twitched ever so slightly; he had hit the nail on the coffin. Saiki had no choice but to help.

The older psychic lowered his face, switching his gaze from the ceiling back to Kaito. The child esper could tell that Saiki still doubted he was his son.

"Why can't I read your thoughts? We're both psychics aren't we?" Kaito tilted his head to the side as if the answer was obvious. "What a pain. It's because I can nullify any of your abilities, and if I turn it off, you'll learn too much about the future. That might change my current timeline; I can't risk that."

Saiki exhaled through his nose, leaning forward in his chair, "You're my son, alright- you even have the same catchphrases as me." Silence followed as the two stared each other down. Kaito refused to yield, and a slight sense of pride filled his small body when Saiki broke eye contact first by closing his eyes.

"Fine. What do you need help with?" Kaito had been triumphant. Finally, he could go back home. Was what he felt not called satisfaction? He felt like pumping his fists until he realised how silly it would be to do so. Kaito faced Saiki, opening his mouth to speak only for him to blink and deadpan.

Kaito had time jumped again. How? He had no idea. He wasn't even sleeping this time! He concluded that being so far away from his mother must be the reason why this was happening to him. How was he supposed to return to the correct timeline if his powers were going haywire?

One thing Kaito did know for sure was that he was no longer in his future dad's bedroom but rather in a field with only crops surrounding him. Letting his eyes sweep the vast green around him, he sighed yet again. There was nothing but plants for miles, as far as his eyes could see. Was this frustration he felt? He couldn't tell.

The most important thing to do was find out what time period he was in. That was what Kaito planned to do, but he didn't get a chance to follow through on it. Why? The answer was simple- bugs.

When Kaito felt something move on the skin of his calf, under his pants, all the baby hairs on his body stood up. For a split second, Kaito was sure his soul had left his body- halfway on its journey to the heavens. He was familiar with this feeling, having experienced it countless times when he found cockroaches around the house.

Kaito's body reacted before his mind did in his sheer state of panic. He kicked his leg out to get the creepy crawly off of him before teleporting far away.

➵ ➵ ➵ ➵ ➵ ➵ ➵ ➵ ➵ ➵ ➵ ➵

When Kaito's vision adjusted to his surroundings after he had teleported yet again, he realised he was standing between two people. A sense of dread filled the young psychic- surely the universe didn't hate him that much. He slowly gazed up and found two familiar faces staring down at him. The universe did- it hated Kaito Saiki.

Kaito's eyes blanked, devoid of light. "Eh?"

Gazing intently at him was none other than his mother and father, except they were younger. "You're seeing this too, right?" You were the first to pipe up, not breaking eye contact with Kaito as you watched him curiously. "Kusuo, you didn't tell me you had a little brothe-" Saiki cut you off before you could finish. "I don't."

Kaito had no idea how to talk to you. He gulped as you watched him curiously. He proceeded to do something he only ever did when he was extremely nervous (normally, it only happened when he was getting scolded by you. Kaito's mouth moved before his brain could catch up.

The only thing he could do was quote tik tok references you loved to say. "Baby, I'm not even here. I'm a hallucination. Move on- move on." Your jaw dropped at the boy in front of you, recognising exactly what video the small child was talking about. Your eyes lit up at him in what Kaito assumed to be utter awe. It took everything in him not to hug your leg, knowing all too well he wouldn't be met with the softness that the you from the future would provide.

Your eyes widened as if something had clicked, and realisation dawned on you. Kaito felt it too- the rush in his ears he could faintly hear every time his mother wasn't around, calmed. The weight of his powers lifted slightly, and he inhaled. "Hi." Kaito only looked to you, feeling small and unsure of himself for the first time in a long while.

"No way." You sounded breathless, for good reason. You slowly met Kusuo's gaze at the same time he did yours. Kaito looked around to observe where he was and surmised he had teleported to Saiki's room. "It can't be."

If the two of you were together, then that meant the farm Kaito came from was in a time before he had meddled with yours and Saiki's first meeting. Thank god. If there was any out there.

"What's your name, little guy?" You looked down at Kaito once again, and he craned his neck to meet your gaze. His eyes softened at the sight of you, something both you and Saiki picked up on. "It's Kaito... Saiki." Your lips parted before they stretched into a smile. Saiki's only response was to deadpan- as if his soul was moments away from leaving his body.

"I always wanted to name my kid 'Kaito'. See, told you I was right, Kusuo." You whipped your head to face Saiki, excitement bubbling up on your features. The older esper only rolled his eyes at your antics, opting to look at Kaito instead. "Why are you here?"

Kaito opened his mouth to speak, only to feel an itch in his nose. His face scrunched as he pulled his hand up reflectively, sneezing into it.

Bringing his hand down slowly, the small psychic blinked. He was smack bang in the middle of town centre yet again.

Could he have? Had Kaito actually been that lucky- as to travel back in time to before he had messed up his parent's first meeting? There was only one way to find out.

So Kaito walked passed the crowds of people, trying to keep his pace steady as he made his way towards PK Academy yet again. He stopped just before he suspected he'd see you and hid behind a wall, barely visible.

That's when Kaito spotted the version of you from high school, and he felt himself physically relax, like a burden was lifted off his shoulders. Had the situation stressed him out that much? Probably.

Kaito watched intently as you gazed up from your phone at the group of girls walking past you, clad in the same school uniform. Kaito let out a sigh of relief when you followed them like the universe had planned for you to do so. Kaito stuck around for when his father appeared, absentmindedly walking to PK Academy with a stoic expression not long after you.

Finally, everything had been set right. Now, Kaito had to find a way back to his current timeline.

➵ ➵ ➵ ➵ ➵ ➵ ➵ ➵ ➵ ➵ ➵ ➵

After a few tries and focusing solely on not interacting with any human Kaito came across to stop a butterfly effect from happening, he finally made his way back home.

Kaito appeared in the living room, and before his eyes could even adjust to his surroundings, he was engulfed in a hug, "Oomph!" The second he realised it was your arms around him, he visibly relaxed. Breathing you in, he melted into the hug as he buried his nose into your shoulder. He was finally home!

"Where did you go, Kaito?!" The worry in your voice pulled on his heartstrings. He felt a hand run through his soft pink hair, and guessed that must have been his dad.

'I time travelled in my sleep.' Kaito telepathically told you and Saiki, his face still covered by your shoulder. He felt almost ashamed to admit it, as if he had done something wrong. He decided then that he needed to get his powers under control as soon as possible.

"I was worried sick- you disappeared for hours!" You let go of him in a hurry, your hands sliding down his arms as you looked him over before checking his forehead for a fever. "Are you hurt?"

Kaito only shook his head, staying quiet. It felt like his heart was going to burst open, and he had no idea what to do about it. The young esper's attention shifted when he spotted the 2 suitcases behind you. Had you... not left to go visit your parents yet? Had he travelled back to before you went to the airport?

"Don't go." That was all Kaito could say. He looked up at you in time to see your eyes soften. Despite his stoic expression and his empty eyes, you could read him like an open book. He didn't have to say much; you understood straight away. If his powers went haywire when you weren't here, there was no saying what would happen.

"Okay, I'll stay."

➵ ➵ ➵ ➵ ➵ ➵ ➵ ➵ ➵ ➵ ➵ ➵

bonus:

After putting Kaito to bed and telling your parents about the change of plans, you walked down the stairs wordlessly. What a long day.

When Kaito didn't come down even after you called for him a few hours ago, you immediately sensed something was wrong. Leaving your suitcases in the living room near the couch, you called your husband over to help you look for him.

Half the day went by with you looking for your son, Kaito. Saiki teleported everywhere, used his telepathy, and even then- he couldn't find your child. Then, like magic, Kaito appeared in the living room. You had heard a brief version of what had happened from Kaito himself before you tucked him in.

"Stressed?" Saiki asked from the kitchen, handing you a warm mug of hot chocolate with marshmallows. You smiled at him, your heart swelling at the simple act of him making you something. "Not anymore." You smiled over the rim of the mug before taking a sip.

You watched quietly as Saiki silently did the dishes. This was it, everything you had ever wanted in life. "What would you do if you never met me?" You asked out of curiosity, the question spurred on by what Kaito had told you.

Saiki paused, placing the last dish onto the drying rack and turning the tap off before he turned to you. "I'd be single and by myself." You kept eye contact, studying your husband to your heart's content. "Until I find you." Your lips stretched into a quiet smile again as you stepped forward.

"You have no idea how happy that makes me, Kusuo." You wrapped your arms around his neck as you pulled him close. Saiki's hands found purchase on your hips. You tip-toed as you placed a kiss on his lips, your smile still present.

➵ ➵ ➵ ➵ ➵ ➵ ➵ ➵ ➵ ➵ ➵ ➵

general taglist: @biscuit-buddy @gvthic-gvrl @dunnieko @milkierei @kyrasworld @baby-unidorn @moonflowerpetals @the-mellokid @bangtxnbby @alexiswheeze @tanzaniiite @mo0o0milk @omilkandhoneyteao @turntechsquishy @gukkarchive @peachesuck @hartbeat-art @franko-pop @ima-attention-whore @ola-is-dead @daisysinadarkmedow @froppysgirl @xjaelee @beanst0ck @llamaavocado @tanakassimp @kooksmono @loving-is-the-antidote @toebios @tvwhoresblog @delta-698 @victory-is-here @chuchaycha @saeranoppa @erinbing @draco-kasai @nocturnalcreature998 @just-snog-already @sunnsettee @saikikslut @juju-la-tortue @plutoneu @womanizerbucky @bakugohoex @thatasiandumbass @krazyotakunerd @totallyinlovewithsaiki @kenmascockwarmer @squishiyy @choridion @memorableminds @kyrah-williams @animeboysimppp @soft-levi-girl-blog @aunty-grandma @mindofess @beccawinter @valeriasannchez @unlimitedsimping @bigdumbobsessedbi @tanzaniiite @introvertatitsfinest @windex-princess-ami @knighted-princess @vernon-dursley @emeraldbluexxxx @iwachanslove @skelingtonfreak @dora-the-grownup @peachymichu @amaranth-fuchsia @strawberryjam8 @notaroyal @chaeyal @kuntent-t @heyitsmelilly @mango-bear @sugaamykookies @mrs-todo-roki @joyidonuts @hxney-lemcn @prlan @quiescentelle @alexloveskili @subtropicace @hoshi4k @echothepuff @kindalollipop @ameliabs-world @babyshoyo @animedweeb333 @celamoon @diesinspanishbcimhispanic @froggi666 @loser-keiji @lucilleifer @lunachelly @kaylenn @queenof-saigon @dudufodd @multifandomcat @fresa-luna @kohi-zeri @anyaswrld @saltandapepper @scar8o @where-i-do-things @potatochic2003 @fishfetus @chaotic-fangirl-blog @acidicloveee @noodlenerd101 @aurorakingsley @crystalgman25 @healpeony @chims-kookies @track5enthusiast @mommymi1kers @aboveasphodel @strawberriesareprettycool @princeizuku @mythical-mushrooms13 @stellalorelei @cole-silas @queenof-saigon @thecupcakezombie @dudufodd @multifandomcat @multifandoms99 @skylarmoon119 @hyejoolips @soggyxfroggy @imkumichan @honeyyslvt @theawkwardspork @gabile18 @magikmina @ampheenix @siriusly1 @elwasheree @itsskyvoltage @luna-astro @r4td0lll

if you want to be tagged, let me know!

#saiki x reader #saiki k x reader #saiki kusuo x reader #saiki kusuo #saiki k #saiki #the disaster of psi kusuo saiki #saiki kusuo no ψ nan #Saiki Kusuo no PSI Nan #fluff #x reader fluff #time travel

733 notes · View notes

baddestbittyontheblock · 3 months

Text

wanda maximoff fic recs (2)

𖣁 hi everyone!! here is my second rec for wanda, i hope you all enjoy!! 𖣁

ཐིཋྀ remember to like and reblog the works you enjoy in order to support each incredible writer!! ཐིཋྀ

𖣁 however, make sure you read the information on each story themselves such as triggers & warnings 𖣁

ཐིཋྀ if you’d like me to remove your fic from this list, message me! ཐིཋྀ

ਏਓ beginners episode by @wandasfifthwife hockey coach/player!wanda x ex figure skater!reader | HEAVY TOPICS, injury (r = leg and brain), r’s mother is verbally/physically abusive, r’s mom sees herself in r, body-image issues, heavier angst w/ happy ending, hurt/comfort, established relationship (w&r), break ups (not w&r), past relationships, player!wanda for a minute, injury (w = broken nose), 2.1k

-your mother had made a suggestion during dinner for you to get out more, have a sport or a club activity to join so you weren’t inside so much.

ਏਓ she tells me keep fucking cause she loves this shit by ^ hockey player!wanda x afab!fem!reader | SMUT MDNI, established relationship, angry-makeup-im going to miss you-sex, argument, angst w/ happy ending, hurt/comfort, top!wanda, bottom!reader, strap (r receiving), oral (r receiving), impact play (spanking), marking (neck), r is called little thing (by wanda), overstim if you squint, cum kink?

-wanda has an away game, meaning she has to leave you in the morning. your emotions to rise, hurt turning into anger and causing you to snap at her, resulting in an argument—but you can’t stay mad at her. before you can realize you’ve ended up under her, pleas for her to fuck you good before she leaves.

ਏਓ nightmares by ^ hockey player!wanda x afab!fem!reader | HEAVY TOPICS, mentions that r’s mother was physically&mentally abusive, nightmare has a SLIGHT description, angst w/ happy ending, hurt/comfort, argument (w&r), nightmare, love confessions, r thinks they’re going to breakup, fluffy ending

-your lack of sleep comes to play when you snap at wanda and end up sleeping on her couch. wanda comes face-to-face with the issue when you come into her room late at night, crying from a nightmare

ਏਓ say, “don’t go” by @scarletssienna wanda maximoff x reader | hurt, comfort, angst, mommy wanda, sub!reader, grinding, car sex, fingering, hair-pulling, oral, biting, fighting, scars, AU, 6k

-it’s been three years since you and wanda saw each other last - three long years. you were as good as dead to her. figuratively, and unfortunately, literally.

ਏਓ unspoken truths by @spaghettiposts wanda maximoff x reader | pregnancy, dickhead vision, friends to lovers, attempts at comedy, reader being a sweetheart like always, mutual pinning, faint talks of abortion, talks of nausea and vomiting, 4k

-you and wanda have been friends for years, but never once has she showed up at your doorstep in this state. pregnant, alone, and hurt. you take her in and you both dive into the difficulties of pregnancy, and hiding feelings.

ਏਓ to seek forgiveness by @esouliie wanda maximoff x fem!reader | strap (r!receiving), breath play?, wanda is rough & reader is crying lol, aftercare! (18+)

-recklessness requires a certain type of punishment, but you can only take so much

ਏਓ hers by @themidnightcrimson top!wanda x reader | 18+ only. minors: do not interact, jealousy, possession, voyeurism, fingering

-in which natasha has a hard time staying away from what isn't hers, so wanda decides to teach her a lesson.

ਏਓ the scarlet siren by ^ wanda maximoff x fem!reader | siren!wanda, dubcon/noncon, fingering (r receiving), oral (r receiving), size kink, biting, a lot of blood, violence, fear, suspense, drowning, deep water, mentions of death, i wrote this in an irish accent for some reason, did you know i have thalassophobia?, 6.0k, 18+ only. minors: do not interact

-in which you take a trip out to sea that you will regret.

ਏਓ their mistake by @scarlet-daisy dark!wanda x reader | mentions of torture and being kidnapped, hydra agents & wanda killing them

-“you made a really big mistake…”

ਏਓ lost in the universe (pt:1) by @mionemymind wanda maximoff x reader | fluff, cursing, slight angst?

-y/n is transported to a different universe and by chance, meets the wanda that inhabits it.

ਏਓ lost in the universe (pt:2) by ^. wanda maximoff x reader | fluff, kissing, cursing, jealousy, 1.3k

-the aftermath of y/n being rescued from the alternate universe.

ਏਓ you’re the only thing keeping me center by @themultiimagines wanda maximoff x fem!reader | smut (18+ MDNI), jealousy (healthy ofc), thigh riding, cursing, 2.7k

-you’ve never had a bond with anyone quite as strong as the one you have with wanda.

ਏਓ turn a blind eye by @wndaswife wanda maximoff & fem!reader | MDNI: smut, a bit angsty in the beginning, some fluff at the end, tiny mood switch because wv wanda is scary but also just the cutest, manipulation, implications of magic usage (this is up to your interpretation), fingering, cunnilingus, mommy kink, dom!wanda maximoff

-something strange is happening in westview, and your wife is adamant about soothing your frustrations.

ਏਓ a glimpse of you by @marvelfilth wanda maximoff x f!reader | dubcon, noncon, somnophilia, oral, fingering, pet names, (18+)

-she looks down at her chest where your head rests, your back pressed neatly against her front, and smiles when she sees you fast asleep. and then she gasps, because the image twists abruptly, and now you're no longer asleep, but panting, your cheeks red, your forehead glistening with sweat. wanda's hand moves between your legs, the wet noises her fingers make as they plunge deep inside you make her shudder.

✦ dividers by @cafekitsune, @dollywons ✦

#monthly fic recs #fic recs #marvel #marvel universe #wanda maximoff #wanda mcu #wanda maximoff x reader #wanda maxmoff x y/n #scarlet witch #scarlet witch x reader

112 notes · View notes

fleurriee · 1 year

Note

Ummm Hi I'm sending in this request before the population of fandom for avatar dies out completely can I ask for something that is so cute. Like shy reader who really likes neteyam but is to nervous to ever say anything about it and she's kind of singled out a lot and has little friends ( but her and neteyam are cordial with each other ) She goes to a gathering and is the only one who notices that neteyams stress and frustrated despite the festives and approaches him shyly with an offer to help “ i just want to be used by you tonight. can i be your personal toy? “ pls considered and thank you for still posting avatar also your a great writer

wooooo to be the one to help nete relieve some stress.... i loved this one, so thank u for sending it in!! hopefully the population of the fandom doesn't die out too much lmao... but, tysm, ily anonie <3

pairing ; neteyam x fem!reader

summary ; you take in into your hands to help neteyam relieve some of his stress and frustration.

themes ; talks of smut, tiniest amount of fluff possible, shy!reader/lonesome!reader

You’ve never been good with friends.

After all the time, you guess there’s just something about you that rubs others the wrong way, causing them to flee in the opposite direction quickly, before you can attempt to cling on to them.

Maybe that was it - maybe you came off too desperate, wanting just one friend who understood you completely, who would be by your side for all the good and bad. Maybe you were seeking it too eagerly; maybe you just needed to let it happen gradually.

The closest you’d got to a friend was arguably Neteyam Sully, Toruk Makto’s eldest son and future Olo’eyktan of the clan. But, the most you’d even really been was cordial with him, smiling and greeting one another in passing. Still, he was the only one who would meet your eye for longer than two seconds.

A part of your brain raged at you that it was just him being nice, just him wanting to make a good reputation for himself, seeing as he would be leading all of you when the time came later on down the line. And, that did make sense, but your optimistic side, the one that won out more often than not, told you he might secretly enjoy your company, that he didn’t just think of you as another random Na’vi.

You kept that particular thought in your head every time you looked in his direction… more so than ever now that the gathering was in full swing.

So much was happening, you weren’t entirely sure where to look - Na’vi were lingering within every corner of the surrounding area, each of them chattering away to their own family and friends, boisterous laughter spilling from them until you couldn’t even hear yourself think.

Making your way around people, trying your best to not bump into anyone and apologising to those that you did, you let your eyes flicker around to whoever they did. Your parents had actively forced you further out into the open, hoping that by doing so, it might help you interact with more Na’vi that were your age. But, looking out at the sea of people now, you couldn’t help but believe there was no worse idea than this one.

And, then, your eyes flew over him - Neteyam Sully. He’s standing towards the edge of the entire crowd, all alone as his own gaze flickers across everyone. His arms are crossed over his chest, and his brows are pinched, eyes slightly lowered. Even from a distance, it’s obvious he’s not enjoying himself.

The stress and frustration is emitting from him, lingering within the air and filtering within your own system, until you feel like it’s your job go to comfort him. Maybe this was the opening your parents had wanted for you - maybe you should take it with both hands and run with it.

So, with your heart on your sleeves as it pounded within its ribcage, excitement pounding within you at the thought of your offer you were going to give him, you made your way over to him.

He hadn’t noticed you coming until you were stood just in front of him, a shaky smile on your lips in spite of your nerves. When he spotted you, you noticed his shoulder had relaxed a little, looking down upon you with a welcoming smile of his own. “Hey…”

“Hi,” you spoke quickly, trying to muster the courage you needed for this next comment of yours, knowing it would definitely help him relax, “you didn’t really looking like you’re enjoying yourself…”

Neteyam chuckled at your words, shaking his head, but still looking fondly at you. “You could say that.”

Swallowing deeply, you sent him another timid smile, fingers beginning to fiddle with one another and stepping closer to him, making sure only he could hear your next words. “Well,” you started, “why don’t you… use… me?” you paused, gauging for a reaction, watching his ears perk up extremely high on his head, his tail starting to flick. “I mean, you can take it out on me… I can be your personal toy…?”

Your last sentence came out as more of a question, swallowing your heart in your throat. Just seconds away from deciding to turn back with your tail between your legs and embarrassment flushing your cheeks, he reached out for one of your arms, licking his lips and putting his fangs on display. There was a new twinkle in his eyes now, one that definitely had your stomach tingling with further desire.

“You gonna let me fuck you, pretty girl?” he asked, voice suddenly rough and low in comparison to the happier one he’d had earlier.

With a tight grip on your wrist, not letting you even think about leaving him now you had him excited and aroused, you knew you’d made the right decision to finally come out of your comfort zone and wrap yourself lovingly around Neteyam Sully.

#𝐅𝐋𝐄𝐔𝐑𝐑’s work ── ✎#2k drabble special #neteyam #neteyam sully #avatar #avatar 2 #neteyam fluff #neteyam smut #neteyam x reader #neteyam sully x reader #neteyam x you #neteyam sully x you #neteyam x female reader #neteyam x fem reader #neteyam sully fluff #neteyam sully smut #neteyam x pregnant reader #dad neteyam #dad!neteyam

287 notes · View notes

1989luvr · 10 months

Note

could you please write something where Mike becomes more comfortable and confident in his relationship with the reader? I think he might be worried and nervous at first but then become more relaxed when he’s with the reader, feeling comfortable enough to talk freely about how much he admires them and wants to get married one day

you’re like my fav fluff Mike writer on here so thanks!!

comfortable.

a/n: oh my god that's so sweet thank you so much i'm crying 🥹 i really hope you enjoy this! i'm so sorry this took so long, i kinda went a little off but i still hope that you enjoy this!! 🩷🩷🩷

Getting Mike comfortable in your relationship was hard, he was always very hesitant, and you didn't mind. You knew he's had a very hard life and that he might not be ready for anything yet. You stood in the kitchen making Abby's lunch before you went to work, when you felt a pair of arms go around your waist and a head on your left shoulder. Out of the corner of your eye you see Mike, ever so relaxed and content, this was new but you didn't mind. "Hey, baby" you lean your head against his. He mumbles a small 'Hi' into the fabric of your crewneck.

"You alright?" you look at him, his eyes glistening in the sunset that was leaking through the half opened blinds. "You look pretty as usual, wanted to make sure my brain wasn't fucking with me." Mike mumbles again. You smile and you feel your face grow hot. "I assure you, 'm real." you turn your head and press a kiss to his cheek. He was never really affectionate but, maybe he finally trusted you more than he already did and is finally realizing how much you love and care about him and that brought a huge smile to your face like you're a teenager again. You plated Abby's lunch and Mike's grip on your waist got tighter, you laughed confused. "Mike, cmon I gotta go give Abs her food." you softly say. "One second, please?" Mike pleads. You sigh as you give in. 5 minutes later he lets go, "Y/n, after you get back from work, can we talk?" Mike questions, following you to the table. "Yeah, of course. Is everything okay?" you ask as you set the plate on the table. "Yeah, yeah. We just haven't been able to like, uh be alone in awhile." Mike shyly plays with the strings of his hoodie while making eye contact with you.

"Yeah, I agree. I'll be back here around 7." you smile at him and gently take his hand and squeeze it. Abby comes into the room and sees that you made her lunch, "Thank you, Y/n!!" she wraps her arms around your hips and gives you a huge hug before sitting down. "Of course, sweet girl." you rub her head and that small interaction makes Mike's heart swell. "I gotta get to work, i'll see you two later." You kiss Abby's head and go to Mike and kiss the corner of his mouth and exit the house and go to your car.

"When are you going to marry her?" Abby asks once the front door is closed. "Abby!" Mike exclaims, slightly embarrassed, and locks the front door. "Oh come on, Mike! It's been like a million years!!!" Abby sighs dramatically. "It's been like six months, Abs. Haven't even told her I loved her or have had our first real kiss yet." He mumbles the last part out of Abby's ear shot. After a beat, he sits down at the table and makes conversation with her while she eats.

Later that night, you arrive back at Mike's house at seven, just like you said you would. He gave you a spare key a few weeks ago so you used that and gave a small knock before opening the door, "Mike?" you softly call out. Mike was in the bathroom, making sure his curls looked just right, he comes around the corner smiling. "How was work?" he sat on the couch, looking at you twiddling his thumbs. "Pretty decent. Didn't get yelled at too bad but old ladies, so its win in my book" you kick of your shoes neatly by the door then hang your coat up on the coat hanger and make your way to the couch and sit down.

"What did you want to talk about?" You question, facing him. "Uhm, I uh, just wanted to say thank you, for a lot of things, like putting up with me these past six months. I appreciate you and I love you so much. I know I've never said it but, after every interaction I want to say it but a big part of me is saying that it will scare you off. I love you." Mike gushes. You smiled widely scooting closer to him. "I love you too, Mike. I am more than grateful to be in your life. I know that you've gone through tough times and I'm always here for you, I'm not going anywhere." You grab his hand. "I want to be with you forever, I am committed to this, to you. I want to marry you one day, I don't know if i'm moving to fast in this, I just have felt the need to get it off my chest and-" He looks at you, but before he continues to speak you feel like you're about to burst, you swiftly cup his face and pull him in for a proper kiss.

His shaky hands meet your middle and you both melt into the kiss. In the next moment you are both pulling away for air. "Sorry, your reaction was cute. I'm just as committed to you Mike as I am to Abby. I love you guys. I love you, Mike Schmidt. To the Moon and to Saturn." You smile.

"The Moon and to Saturn?" Mike gains a bit more confidence in himself, with a boyish grin painted on his face as he pulls you closer.

"Definitely." you smile before he pulls you in for a kiss.

a/n: oh my god i'm so sorry this took so long and i'm also so sorry if some parts don't make sense i lowkey went crazy this weekend #lol but I really hope you enjoyed <333

#1989luvr #1989luvr updates #mike schmidt x reader #josh hutcherson #five nights at freddy's #1989luvr talks #mike schmidt fluff #mike schmidt #mike schmidt fanfic #mike schmidt marry me plz plz plz

139 notes · View notes

fractualized · 11 months

Text

Alright. Let's break down this "oh" of an ending. NEGATIVE NANCY, COMING THROUGH

Spoilers, ho!

Ending a story is hard, if they're long or short. Whether you wrap up key threads or leave them open, you want some kind of takeaway that puts a period on things. Even in comics, where we know these characters will go on and on, ideally a story will end in a way that just... fits. Even amateur fic writers have loads of WIPs just sitting there because exactly how to end this damn thing eludes them.

I don't know if Rosenberg had an ending in mind when he started The Man Who Stopped Laughing. I don't know if he decided he'd figure it out by the end of it's year-long run. I don't know if DC Editorial lets people do that; it sounds insane, but if you've been paying attention to their current level of editorial "oversight," which I imagine is supposed to make concurrent titles mesh together reasonably well, I wouldn't be shocked if they let people wing it. Or, more likely, perhaps DC Editorial swooped in and made Rosenberg change the ending he had planned and that's why the result falls flat.

In any case, after 11 issues of enjoying myself, I'm left feeling deflated.

But let's start where #12 does, with the Joker who's been told he's John Keyser, a toxin'd henchmen that the real Joker made into a doppelganger for funsies. He approaches a hotdog vendor.

I'm stuck on "Hello. I've been looking for you"?? I didn't catch that on my first read. Joker has a favorite hotdog vendor? lol

Shut up, Waffles!! All we have is your word for it!!

In any case, hey, Keyser Joker has already been Jokering this long, so yeah, why not keep going? And why not with help from poor woobie Jason, fresh from nearly getting himself killed in Gotham War?

Bruce did not fix Jason at the end of Gotham War, so his adrenaline is still triggering fear in his brain. But Keyser Joker has a solution for that!

It's a tiny dose of Joker toxin to take the edge off of Bruce's programming. Joker makes a point of saying that the effects are only temporary, though. (And like, I assume this is just the quick-fix solution Rosenberg came up with to pull off his own ending when told Bruce's plans for Jason over in the other titles.) Jason is skeptical of this "help," naturally, but Keyser Joker brings up their matching interest: getting rid of the other Joker.

Jason, why you gotta ruin Albert's good time? 🙄

Cut to Red Hood dragging a clown henchman through the streets of Gotham.

But "his" face being blacked out and some of the dialogue clue the reader in: things aren't what they seem.

DERAIL TIME: what is up with this batmobile?

Like from some other angles, it looks sportier, but in most of the panels it looks like an old Buick? lol ANYWAY.

With the flaily way this person jumps off the bike and runs, I was sure that this was Keyser Joker and we might see Batman interact with him. Alas.

It's Ravager, who survived last issue's explosion. She's helping Jason 1) distract Batman and 2) get Albert out of harm's way, far from Keyser Joker's plan.

Naturally Keyser Joker is planning something more destructive than he's led Jason to believe. Also like…

The idea that Keyser Joker really is this John guy, not the real deal, is still not sitting fucking right with me. Seeing him here in another costume, with a goofy death train with mismatched eyes just like his, it feels like a signal that he actually is Joker and Waffles is either lying or mistaken somehow. Like compared to the other Joker, who we haven't seen in a costume? Who left Gotham for weird reasons? I really thought there was going to be a reverse reveal.

And since it doesn't come, I guess it's a good time to mention that! There is no reverse reveal of who the real Joker is. Things get a little muddy later, but…. hrm. HRM.

That said, the other Joker does something pretty dang Jokery: he shows up in a dirigible with his face on it.

Killer Moth and a bunch of clown goons (that aren't supposed to be available because of Gotham War but WHATEVER) attach the dirigible to the train and it's pretty chaotic!

I love when villains are like, "Look I may kill people, but an endangered gorilla?! Get outta here!" 😂

Jason also arrives in style.

I guess he was observing Ravager's distraction?? Which feels like it defeats part of the purpose of having her do the distraction. But then he couldn't have this cool entrance in which he bludgeons people with a motorcycle. Trade offs!

Meanwhile, Real Joker makes it to the front of the train to confront Keyser Joker. One of Real's goons offers to shoot Keyser, but Real Joker wants to make this personal and kills the poor hench so he can do it himself.

Jason coming in like YEEEEEAAAAHHHHH 😎

Then he gets the bad news.

Keyser is as casually suicidal as your average Joker! Also "Real" Joker never acknowledges Red Hood's identity, afaik. It's always Keyser Joker. Details like this got me thinking that reverse reveal was coming, AND YET.

That aside, next comes a fun comedy beat.

Real Joker going right for the hair!

Jason isn't going to let this be the end of it, of course, and once again Killer Moth must suffer at his hands.

Jason shoots so many clowns. Just never the one he wants. 😞

Waaaaaaaaaaaaaait wait wait. You're telling me that Bruce knew about the imminent TWO JOKERS situation. But he decided to prioritize a report of Red Hood dragging a clown through the streets. When in the same breath he's saying there are other people coming to the scene with him, so he obviously could've sent someone else? On the same day Batman #139 is like "oooh Bruce is totally onto Joker now"? This is what you're telling me?? Augh.

Well, we can't rely on Batman right now, clearly, so it's up to Jason.

Meanwhile, Keyser Joker has told the other one that he actually does have a secret way off the runaway train safely. After they fight some more, the tune starts to change.

Alright so, this "deal," which would sort of start them back at square one, doesn't bother me because obviously it's on shaky-ass ground and one of them is definitely killing the other before this issue is over. What does bug me is the "franchising" line, for two reasons:

1) Is this supposed to imply that Real Joker is the one who was behind Joker Incorporated in the Batman Incorporated issues, not a third one?

2) I was just SO SURE it was another indication we were getting a reverse reveal. Joker absolutely does not love the franchising idea. That's kind of been the point of this whole series. The genuine Joker in Keyser Joker's hallucination/memory said that having two Jokers around is stupid. HRRRRMMM.

Anyhow, they leave the train together, though the escape plan is literally just jumping off, which has more issues than they bargained for.

So do you think, assuming the Gotham War writers actually communicated at least a little, that Zdarsky asked Rosenberg what he needed Jason for at the end of TMWSL, and Rosenberg was like, "oh I need him to heroically crash a toxic blimp and almost die?" And then Zdarsky was like, "er, I need him to heroically fly a plane into a magic meteor and almost die?" And then they just shrugged and closed the Zoom?

But yeah, the blimp crashes, and I'm sort of confused because I thought that earlier Bruce was saying that even if the toxin gets into the water, it'll still make it's way to the city. So for one thing, it's still exploding in the air and it's still gonna drift. And the parts that dissolve in water are still gonna drift. There's a part to the equation missing here.

But these two are just thrilled at the excitement.

Until the sudden yet inevitable betrayal.

BUT WHO WAS JOKE

Shortly after this, Ravager shows up with Manhunter, who also survived last issue's explosion. (It just doesn't come up at all. Like it doesn't have to, I guess, but it's just weird that there's not a word or wound about it.) Ravager dives into the water looking for Jason, because she instinctually knows he did something grand and dumb. She finds him among the clown bodies and brings him to shore.

Nothing can kill this man! He came back from the dead with nine lives! And also maybe that Lazarus resin from TFZ is still helping, I dunno.

Elsewhere along the shore, what's left of both Jokers' crews find themselves waiting in the same spot for the Joker they expect to be triumphant.

You know what. I'm soured on Waffles now. Leave him.

And then, from the water…

And that's it. That's how it ends. With a sort of snide cop-out?

Like, it's Joker's POV, so yeah, you could say the dickish tone is just him. But following this story for a year, and then seeing it end with simply the old "you'll never know which Joker prevailed," it doesn't feel clever or whatever this is going for. It just feels obnoxious.

Honestly, it feels like the same takeaway as freaking Three Jokers. 😐 That it doesn't matter who Joker is. All the lead-up to this, where maybe we get a tiny bit of depth and development, even if just in this story, eh. Doesn't matter! We're ending this with blah payoff.

On the other hand, the part of about about there being more questions, about this ending not being tidy, makes me think that this is leaving open the possibility that Keyser Joker actually was the real one. After all, we don't get a flashback to the actual events. The events we see are part of a hallucination, and Keyser never said he had clear memories of being the real or the fake one. He just went from assuming he was the real one to taking Waffles' word for it that he was the henchman.

Also, Keyser Joker was always the Joker giving narration. And the narration boxes for the Final Joker at the end remain in his style. So it seems like we actually have a huge indication of which Joker prevailed-- unless we're meant to assume that if the other Joker prevailed, he merely took over the narration.

I mean, this is what we have. So if I can just choose what I want to believe, I'm going to believe both that Keyser was actually the real guy and that he won. But it puts a real sour taste in my mouth to be super engaged with a story and wanting an ending that says something about Joker's character… and the ending is just that one murders the other and you don't know who, neener neener. It's anticlimactic. It's a predictable direction that I thought SURELY Rosenberg wouldn't go in. It feels like a dick move.

And... what else is there to say? So ends my year of consistently buying a comic, I guess. Nothing else has really grabbed me like TMWSL did, though City of Madness looks promising. After the multiverse and Gotham War stuff, I'm not about to start picking up Zdarsky's Batman. #139 had plenty I should enjoy, but it's soured by Zdarsky deciding to bring a canonical take to the three Jokers concept for some ungodly reason.

A new three Jokers take feels extra stupid after a year of a story about two Jokers. And the second Joker in TMWSL isn't even taken into account in Zdarsky's story. Based off that #135 scene, it really looks like he's going to say that Darwin Halliday accidentally copied TKJ Joker somehow. lmao Why. Why do we have to do this. Why can't this just be one of the things that gets retconned away. I just want my murderclown to be fun.

I need to get back to my list of unread older comics. Or read One Operation Joker! I didn't think I was interested, but I think a random goofy premise is actually just what I need.

#the man who stopped laughing #joker #spoilers #my jibber-jabber #sorry for being a downer

155 notes · View notes

doubledown · 1 year

Text

Yall already know the drill no MLM fetish people as for minors go while I'd prefer you not to interact I cant control what you do

So this is abit of a specific fic for a certain someone ( you know who you are pooks 💕 )

The reader is Latino with a brown complextion feel free to imagine them in whatever shade you want

The reader will be male and masc terms will be used for them

Some Spanish will be in this used in this fic but a translation with be provided so dont worry about havin to go to google translate

This will most likely be around 2 or 3 parts depending on my motivation

ALSO I HAVE NOT WATCHED THE MOVIE so uh if its not like canon him I'm sorry 🧍‍♀️

Degration, Hook up, Hand job, Public Sex, Cheating, S_lf h_rm ( not described implied tho ), HEAVY Voice Kink

HEAVY on criticism. Trying out a new writing style since I noticed that the one I currently due really doesn't stimulate my brain enough which leads to writer's block. SO YEAH LMFAO HAVE FUN ( P.S THIS WAS SO FUN TO WRITEEE AND IT IS KINDA LONG SO SEAT BACKK AND ENJOYYYYYYY )🧍‍♀️

-------------------------------------------------------

Your mama says I'm a fool

And yeah, maybe that's true 'cause I can't

stop thinkin' 'bout you

I'm tryin'

I'm tryin' not to forget my words

'Cause when I'm around you, I tend to keep

changin' my mind

Miguel murmered as the smell of heavy whiskey and cheap liquor crowded around him. He wasn't a drinker at all. He hadn't even thought about it. Well.....not until today. Everything was just going to shit. So he figured he drown himself in something other then self destruction and exhaustion. At least this would kill his worries for awhile after all what's the point of multiverse travel if you couldn't do somewhere where you were unknown? A place you could simply escape without anybody finding you or judging you for your actions. Nobody to put a strong and dominate front for. Just simply unknown and out of touch. " What's on your mind to drink tonight? " The bartender asked abit of a friendly smile on his face. Miguel honestly didn't know what to choose so he just said the first brand of liquor that came to mind. " Just a few shots of fireball.." He said resting his arms on the bar. " Alright hot shot your drinks will be ready in abit. " The bartender said quickly soon off to go take other orders while simultaneously making drinks. He couldn't say he wasn't impressed in all honesty but he had seen it done by failedly by parker. He always tended to try things that really didn't suit him. The bartender looked up and Miguel heart almost sunk in his chest when he spoke. " Buyin a drink or did ya miss me y/n? " The bartender asked leaning over the bar giving a peck on the lips to you.

He couldn't look. He wouldn't look. Yet the gentle rumble in your voice was something that always had a hold on him. " Why not both? " You teased catching onto your lover's lip in your teeth before letting go with a smirk. " You know what I like cariño. " [ darling/dear ] Cariño. Cariño Cariño Cariño Cariño...Even after years away from each other the word still made him his heart burn. Just the way your accent just drove him mad was something that he couldn't even begin to explain. Yet he knew it wasn't his place to feel that way nor right. You two were seperated now. But he wished that things had gone very differently.

" Miguel......Surprised to see you here. " You said your tone neutral but he could feel the hiss of anger in your eyes. You two broke up on a rather...messy note. Things were just too much and miguel wasn't excatly helping with being fuckin spider man and shit. You didn't- No. You couldn't do it. You weren't gonna live in fear that somebody may one day hurt you because they may have followed him home or some shit. So you suggested he retire from doing the whole superhero thing. And he didn't at all take it well. The two of you argued about it for days which turned into weeks. Things were said and one thing led to the other and soon you two weren't even remotely related anymore. He choose people he didn't even know over you. And it stung like hell. But you moved on and forward. And to see him in such a low state....it....it messed with you abit. It brought back some things that you really wished you had buried lower..

" Y/N. It's nice to see you again. " He said with a small smile. You had always been rather...eye pleasing to put it appropriately. Everything just fit so perfectly on you. Every feature on your face to every hair on you head was completely and utterly put together so...Intoxicatingly. And your voice....fuck your voice.... " Ah Im guessin you guys have past? " The voice of your lover pulled him away before his thoughts had a chance to tip off. " Yeah. He's an old friend. " You said simply without bothering to look at the other man. You already you tired from work and really didnt want want to deal with your partner gettin all pissy that your ex is here. " Just a shot of jack daniels Mí Corazón. " you purred. [ My heart ] You knew what your voice did to Miguel. You know what you could gain from him just with a few soft I love yous or just simply saying his name the way he liked. He was a slut for words. Literally. And you had no sympthay for him left in you to care. After all it seemed more like a personal problem then anything. Sucks to suck.

You sat down next to Miguel resting you arms on the bar slightly leaning just enough for that slight arch in your back to show. It was wrong you knew that. Quietly seducing your ex while your partner was right in front of you. But after all you had to return the favor. Finding those texts from all those different guys. You wondered how many times he had fucked some guy while on shift. More importantly how many of them were here now. Miguel was weak when it came to you. He always had been. And the way he shifted in his seat when ever you spoke or the way he seemed so dazzedly focused on your features only proved that he still was a little whore for you. But you weren't gonna simply just give him what he wanted. No. That be too merciful. He needed to beg. Like bitch in heat. He needed to beg like fucking him was a need. Like he couldn't survive without you stuffing him full of what he knew craved.

Miguel cleared his throat and diverted his eyes to his drink as the bartender brough back his drink. " I didn't know you were into liquor. " You said with abit of a curious tone. When did he start drinking?? He always had hated the smell of alcohol at least you thought he did. He used to get onto you about drinking all the time goin on and on about how it could mess up your liver and such. Yet here he was puttin his feelings into a cup. Crazy how things change. " And I thought you didn't fall under stress. " He muttered taking drinking it down in a quick motion. He gagged slightly before swallowing a rather displeasing look on his face. " What? The bite too much for you amor? " [ Love ] You snarked a teasing smile on your face. " No. It's just stronger then what I'm used to. " He mumbled clearly embarrassed by his own reaction. The wound between you too was still fairly fresh. Even more unattended then you both thought. The dismissed jab from Miguel only just proved it.

You swished your drink around not even really wantin it in all honesty. It just felt all surreal and awkward having him around. It just didn't feel natural anymore. And you hated it so fuckin much. Your thoughts were brought out by your rather oblivious boyfriend giving you a kiss on the forehead. " Hey sorry to interrupt you in your space but I gotta head out for a bit. A friend from work needs help movin some furniture. " He said with a smile. " Don't worry about the bar ken is already gettin ready for his shift. " He continued giving you a finally peck before leaving. So that's how he did it. He made a lame ass excuse and left before he could be asked questions. Huh. It was the only thought that came into your mind. At this point feelin guilty was out of the picture entirely. After all if he could go have fun why couldn't you.

You leaned up slightly your left hand grazing the other's thigh as he stiffened. He looked at you confusedly and you simply looked at him for permission. You had always been abit of a fan for open things. It obviously took him a minute to realize what you wanted to do and the clear surprise look on his face almost made you laugh. Yet odd enough he moved his seat abit closer to you despite it. " Hm. Seems like somebody missed old times. " You hummed to yourself teasing his cock through his jeans. He shifted in his seat as he rested his hand on his forehead trying his hardest not to thrust up for attention. You slowly but carefully unzipped his jeans and the entire time the poor man was figiting in his seat. " Desperate much? " You murmed loosely as you teased the head of his swollen cock.

He huffed sharply as he shifted his weight toward your as you wrapped your pretty hands around his cock and pumped it at a rather fast pace. A small whimper came from his throat as you stroked him precum dripping as your pace became relentless. He put his head down on the bar ledge his one hand covering his mouth trying so hard to quiet his soft rambles of pleasure. He twitched and pulsed as what seemed like hours to him as his responses simply got harder and harder to hide. At this point he was pratically mind numb with pleasure and being a whiny mess of a man. Yet you weren't done with your pretty boy just yet. Things were simply getting started.

#dom male reader #sub character #sub miguel o'hara #top male reader #male y/n #dom reader #submissivecharacter #miguel o'hara #miguel x reader #lowkeywannabendhimover #LOLENJOYY #YesIdidleaveyallonacliffhangersorrynotsorry🤞🙄/j/lh

272 notes · View notes

kaetastic · 1 year

Text

IF ONLY YOU KNEW

pairing: Regulus Black x Slytherin!F!Reader

summary: She was born green. Well, not literally, but the bond between two Slytherins was like no other. Written in the stars, destiny had been made for the two long before they were even born. So if he was truly her soulmate, does she have to bear the weight of his absence until she wilts?

word count: 4.1k

warning: angst, talks of character's death. had a plot, lost said plot.

notes: I haven’t written in some time even though I know I could’ve :( It was more than writer’s burnout, but even that I can’t pinpoint why. I also feel that Tumblr is the ONLY social media platform that I own where I don’t feel discouraged at any sort of interaction. I feel free here because I get to publish a story and just read other pieces by other authors. I also feel like this story has less of a plot and more of angst LOL IM SORRY OKAY i just want to cry right now haha.

“It is understandable that you are nervous.” The soft voice filled the air. Even though the windows were perched open as wide as they could to invite new air in, the witch felt incredibly suffocated. There were a lot of thoughts circulating her mind, overlapping each other and cutting one after the other before it could be completed. She felt her energy dim down by each second as her brain welcomed the traffic. Sometimes she wished there were potions that could hinder the thoughts for just a moment.

Her eyes laid on the reflection of her figure on her vanity mirror. Despite taking care of herself and getting ready to combat the obstacles of the day, sleep was one thing that did not want to cooperate with her. No matter what magic. The prominent eye bags were embarrassing to say the least after consuming concoctions after concoctions. Specifically tailored to her own suffering by some of the best Potioneers and apothecaries. The best people that came when you had pureblood family connections.

The witch was blessed (as her late mother would say) for having such luxuries in her life without ever working for it. Except, her mother didn’t say that in a ‘you have to appreciate what you have’ and more like ‘you have better things than low-life people so make sure to use it to your advantage and rub it on their faces.’ However, she never understood. Yes, she had wealth to her name, she had always been gifted with extravagant gifts ever since a mere infant, and she had all the access to so many things a normal witch didn’t. But in the far back of her mind, she had one thought on an endless repetition. She would trade it all for him back. Anything and everything.

“No. It is not. I am not just nervous, I’m,” Y/N huffed out, pushing the sentences and thoughts she would need to the most prioritized in her head. Pushing herself out of the vanity seat, she paced from one side of her room to the other. There were jitters in her legs, suddenly she needed to let out the pent up emotions in a form of movement. “I feel so angry, it is indescribable, and then I feel so down.”

A chuckle came from the previous voice, “Yes, I am very much aware of your rollercoaster of emotions. In fact, wasn’t I always the one to call you out on it?”

Y/N rolled her eyes, planting her palms on the window sill, her pupils grazed over the well-looked after garden. The male blurted, “Would it be so bad?”

Despite being caught up on the butterfly that innocently planted itself on a leaf, the witch mumbled under her train of thoughts, “I don’t know. It could go so many ways and I do not like that. Just when I thought I was settling myself into peace (that was a lie), of course Dumbledore had to reach out to me.”

She held her head low, fingers fidgeting with the ring wrapped around her finger. It was so cheesy for it to house an emerald crystal, but cheesy was one side he showed her to no one else. Y/N plopped back down on the seat, her head resting on her hands. Gorgeous. A masterpiece worked on so hard the public sought after it so much just to take it from her grasp. Maybe that’s why he wasn’t with her anymore. She sighed, getting lost in the colourless picture. The witch stared at it with so much love and longing that it might’ve pushed her back to square one, “Reggie, I wish you were here.”

Her thumb caressed the framed picture so gently.

“What do you mean, my love? I am.” The moving figure in the photo smirked, leaning his body on the side of the frame. Y/N noted the curls in his hair gently falling down his face. Tranquil nights that were not exactly innocent shared together in a bed, she had always fidgeted with the strands of hair that stuck to the sweat beads on his forehead. Nights that she can count. She missed the feeling of it between her fingers, and the way he always smelt like his cologne. It was always lingering.

“Piss off Reggie,” The wizard laughed a melody she so dearly missed. “You know what I mean.”

Regulus’ lips fall into a thin line.

“I am always with you. Remember when I spent that one summer at yours? The stupid promise I made when we were kids that I was going to haunt you even when I am dead is still being upheld.” Y/N laughed and she couldn’t help but feel the tears prickling in her eyes, “You are more than capable. We both know it. Dumbledore may had his eyes out for us back then, but he’s a man who wants to do good.”

That’s where the issue lied. Why did Dumbledore send an owl to her? Even though in the letter, the great wizard had stated that she was invited for a private meeting- that had to be the most vague reasoning ever. Not to forget the fact that Dumbledore had remembered how great of a student she was. He stated that she had great skills and assets. That was it. The line ended there… before he mentioned that the meeting would take place in 12 Grimmauld Place. That had stuffed a blockage in her throat because Y/N couldn’t breathe after slapping the letter to a close.

Despite there being no inhibitors of that house for some time, Y/N could not bear the idea of making that place her home. She could not imagine herself getting out of bed, reading a book, and cozying up in front of the fireplace (the other tasking job would have been carried out by the elf) because every corner of that house reminded her of Regulus. There was no universe where she would settle in a place that reminded her of what she no longer had. So she stayed at the house they dreamt of for their future. It was bought by their families as an engagement gift for when they had turned 17. It was young, sure, but the two were more than sure. Additionally, this was the future set up for them.

The new house still held memories of him, but not as much. It was a comprimise but she would rather make home of a place that lacked her painful memories. Wrapping a hefty, tight chain around her chest, it felt like a punishment knowing that the house was once a wish for the two. Now, it’s just her living that wish.

Regulus kept yapping reassurance, always using the wit he was adorned for while Y/N entertained herself with the countless framed pictures of Regulus. It felt like a routine at this point. A restart to the cycle she wished would just end. With a wide grin, Regulus had his fist thrown in the air as he rode the quidditch broom as if he was born for it. An arm had been thrown over her shoulders, yanking her closer to his body. The couple smiled in bliss in their infamous green robes. So innocent, so clueless for the future that was awaiting.

The witch remembered it as if it was yesterday, the jealousy that always were aimed at the two by the other pureblood children of their age. To be bethrothed before you were even breathing the air of the world was one thing; however, to be bethothed before being born and falling head over heels for one another was a one in a billion. Always reminded by her great aunts and all the women in her life that in one form or another, they had to find peace in their marriage. They had to find and make love in the marriage. It didn't apply to them.

Even though their seniors would tease and jest them for how they were always joined hip to hip every single day, they knew deep down- they craved for what they had. The compatibility between the two was a dream not even fairtytales could match. She knew that girls had eyes on Regulus, who wouldn't? But it was more than wanting the boy, it was wanting what they had. Regulus never had to reassure her despite the few times a burn had ignited in her chest. She knew they were for one another. Who could rewrite what was already written in the stars?

The ideal pureblood match.

She realized Regulus had stopped talking. The wizard watched her with such affection in his eyes, “What does Dumbledore want with me?”

The nature of the great wizard always ticked her off. Despite being praised for doing so many good deeds like Grindelwald, he did some things very harshly and brazenly. Not to forget his favoritism towards Gryffindor. It was petty of her to hold onto a memory like that after all these years, but she couldn’t help it.

“I’m not too sure either. However… the timing of the letter and my brother’s escape is too coincidental for it to be otherwise.” Regulus replied.

Great. Even though the wizard had stated in the letter that it was just a private meeting between the two, she knew the wizard always had cards up his sleeves. If she was, thereotetically, to meet Sirius Black- she would actually freeze in time. The two Black brothers didn't exactly look identical, but the black curls, their mannerism... she hoped he became a worse prick than he was in school.

Y/N sighed out, she needed to get this over with even though she really did not want to face whatever it was, "It's time."

The wizard in the frame sent a comforting smile, "You've got this, my love."

Pulling the drawer of the vanity, the hinges creaking, she pulled out a box that was kept in pristine condition. It had been so long since she needed to take it out. It's not like she left her house often. She let her eyes rest on the frame before resting her hands on its side as if it had been the most fragile thing to exist.

"See you soon, Reggie."

The lid of the box shut out the talking wizard.

There it was in all its glory. Number 12 Grimmauld Place. The rumbling and droplets of bricks had ceased, revealing the door camouflaged to all eyes except those with magic in their veins. She didn't know how to feel. Despite preparing herself for a few days and en route to apparate, she was very much not ready. Her fingers suddenly went numb. Although, the grip on her box remained tight as ever.

Y/N felt as if she had gone mad. The voice of her lover when he was a mere age of 12 played in her ears, followed by his laugh. Not even controlling her muscles, the corner of her lips curled up at the memory. The peri-puberty voice would be completely gone in a couple of years when he reached 17. Now it's a voice embroided in a picture frame.

She breathed in before taking a step forward. Just get it over with. Without even knocking, she made the boisterous creaking of the wooden door as her announcement. She had done the one thing she thought she wouldn't ever have to do. Step foot into the house her late lover would've inherited. The place reeks of him.

It was depressing- the thoughts and the place. She stood at the entrance of the incredibly narrow hallway, the walls that used to hold up framed portraits of credulous Black family members now empty with decaying portaits. Unmaintained. Corners of the wallpaper had start to curl into the air, its sharp edges prodding in the air- ready to launch attack to whomever finds confidence. The floor panels creaked with every slight step she made, and her body was enveloped by a sudden fright when she heard faint murmurs.

"Blood-traitors..."

That voice. As her head shot up with nostalgia and eyes sparkled with hope, a petite figure made way into her peripheral, stepping down from the staircase. If Y/N had to use better vocabulary, she would describe it as an aged old creature with wrinkles on its skin that matched trenches of mountains, on the other hand, she would describe it as what you would imagine sagging skin. The witch stood in the entrance, suddenly feeling the box slipping in her grip as she stared at the elf with a wide smile.

Feeling a presence in a house he was sworn to protect, the elf turned to face the witch. No, the magic in her wasn't tainted. It hadn't been touched. At all. Pure. His eyes widened while the corner of his lips curled up. A smile he had only been giving to his Mistress Walburga Black for Godric knows how long.

"Miss!" The house-elf exclaimed. Holding his cleaning equipments close to his chest, he couldn't believe it. She was right in front of him. In flesh. Excitement jitters in his frail old body, excitement he forgot he could experience. This was beyond a good day. This make ups for the blood traitor who found shelter in the house he had been taking care of ever since the Black household had vanished. Well, partially. Kreacher did not know how to react.

"Kreacher." The witch retorted back, a grin now playing on her face as she stepped closer towards him. She remembered how the house-elf was always so loyal and dedicated to the Black household. Well, to all except Sirius. There were summers when she had resided in the house- times when she truly had Regulus all to herself. Even though she wished those moments were calm and peaceful, it truly was not. The bricks of the house stayed solid until chaos erupted from the same source every single time. Sirius. Y/N lost counts of how many times she had left Regulus' room to meet the scowls on Sirius' face. Shouts after screams, arguments after disagreements- it was the norm for the Black household until Sirius had left home. Then there were never much noise.

If there was one thing Sirius was right about, it was the more time Y/N and Regulus had spent time together- the deeper they were in the hell-hole of trouble.

The house-elf stared up in amazement, "Miss! Kreacher has missed you! Kreacher has lost count how long it has been since Kreacher had seen Miss!"

Sitting on the edge of her tongue, the witch readied herself to reply to the joyness but not a word. Not a speckle of sound was made. How long has it truly been? It was a foolish question to ask since she had been counting ever since Regulus had left home and never came back. A decade and a half. A chunk of one's life and she still believed that her heart could not be mended. Her heart heavy wherever she went, even the short walk through her garden. Maybe if she left her house more often and saw more people than those that came to visit hers for services, she would've moved on. Would it be wrong? To devote yourself to one person who you thought your future lied with, then find someone else? Would it be so selfish?

"It has been some time, Kreacher."

The house-elf nodded eagerly, he thought today would be like no other except for the fact that he now has another burden on his plate, "Kreacher hasn't seen Miss in so long, Kreacher asks what is Miss' business in the Black's home?"

"She's here for me."

The split second she gaped her mouth to respond, another much deeper voice responded. Standing at the staircase stood a man with little to no life in him, Azkaban truly sucked the life out of him. His skin lost its colour, grey and pale, almost sickly. His eyes looked like it sunk in deeper than before, he lost fat in his cheeks, and his beard somehow trimmed. He obviously controlled whatever he could, but a few months would not bring back the soul he had 12 years ago.

"Welcome back,” The wizard gave her a tight smile as if he knew she was trying to get under his skin. Well, she wasn't exactly trying- after years of not getting along together, it just happened naturally. Y/N tilted her head, "Thought I was meeting Dumbledore."

"Well," He shot back, leaning on the railings (that was enough for the house-elf to take his leave despite not wanting to), "You thought wrong. I have no idea how people falling for his tricks.”

She chuckled at the absurdity.

“What are you doing here?” Sirius shot an eyebrow at her question. For a moment she thought she had asked the wrong question. No. She did not. As he made down the last few steps, the man stood in front of her. At an angle, maybe with lots of alterations and blurring, he looked like her Reggie.

“It’s my home. Well, house,” He quickly corrected himself. “Though, I’m surprised.”

When he noticed she didn’t understand him, he continued, “This place was to be yours, was it not? But you left. Abandoned it even.”

While he had the joy to crane his neck around at the place that seemed to be holding onto its last thread, she had her eyes set on his face. He found it humorous. Funny. Amusing. There were not enough words in the English vocabulary to describe the burning in her chest. The wizard turned to her face, “So why are you not occupying it?”

“You’re infuriating as ever.”

“Thank you for the compliment.”

As much as she wanted to stupefy the man before her, there was one question she wanted an answer to. So many questions but she yearned to have its replied to. She mumbled, eyes wandering on the diminshed trimmings of the walls- something she suddenly became fascinated with, “How did you find out?”

He hummed, waiting for her to finish.

“How did you find out about him?”

Him. She clutched the cardboard box harder, leaving small indents of pressure that could be brought back with a little magic. Losing Regulus was something she had to make peace with, but having a photo framed of him that was capable of communicating with her did not make it easy. Especially when she had begged numerous times at the beginning where he had been. Where he had gone to.

'Your mind is clouded with questions that I cannot answer, and I am sorry that I will never be able give you that clarity. My absence will leave a hole in your days. I know that it is selfish of me to know of its consequence and still pursue with it but I wish you a good life, a life we talk so much of. A life that I can no longer be part of. No danger will trail you, our past is the past.'

The words were choked out of her throat as the sudden recall of his letter clenched her heart.

Sirius wet his lips, “Kreacher did. That was after I checked his room.”

Regulus' room. The room she had made enemies with ever since the disappearance. She bet it remained the same. The sheets made neat (just how Walburga liked it), the carpet inched slightly to an odd angle, the broomstick leaned against the wall, and the framed picture of them freed of dusts.

"Although, that elf never mentioned anything."

The glossy appearance of her eyes vanished into the air once she brought her attention back to the escapee in front of her. It was the same response she received when she had gone on her knees for the house-elf, begging with bursting springs out of her eyes.

You are truly cruel, Regulus.

"He said the same thing to me."

Now it was Sirius' time to be intrigued, "Were you not head over heels for my brother? Or am I missing some bits here?"

Y/N couldn't help but to chuckle. Sirius and Regulus was the face of the rebellion for the phrase 'blood runs thicker than water'. He did not know what happened to his brother, he did not seem to be bothered by it. They dare say Slyterins were full of hatred.

"Let's move to the tapestry."

Understanding of how suffocating it was in the narrow entrance, the two magical beings stood in the room that had generations of the Black family marked on. A room full of history. There was one name she only sought out for, and she lost herself in his name.

"I don't know either. One... one day," She cleared her throat, noticing how her emotions were gripping around her words. "He held me like it was our last time. I jokingly asked if he would miss me for a few hours. He didn't say anything. Once he left that door, he never came back home."

Her fingers traced over the 'some fifteen years earlier' text.

"I knew how strong he was. He was more than capable but I could not find sleep that night. It felt like there was something in me- telling me that something was not right. The bed felt wrong, the air was wrong- it all felt wrong. I then saw the sun awaking, so I did too. And on top of the kitchen table was this."

The wizard looked at the carboard box she was handing to him. He had been extremely curious as to what she was holding, but did not inquire. His breath stilled. The lid came off to reveal the young man he had grown up with. While he looked like he aged a hundred years with tattoos scattered all over his body, the wizard in the photo frame had encapsulated his youth. No moment would have prepared him when a voice rang into his ears.

"Oh, hello, brother."

Sirius nearly flipped the box out of his hands if it wasn't for Y/N's quick reflexes. The box floated in the air whilst the magic residue from her wand evaporated into the air.

"What- what is that!" Clearly he wasn't aware of the invention.

"A picture frame."

"Well, clearly it is! What do you take me for? A fool?"

Before he could snap another remark at her, Regulus chirped up, "I think we all do, Sirius."

The wizard took a step back as Y/N pulled out the frame out of the box, displaying the moving picture. It was as if Regulus was inside the frame. Stuck. It could not be.

"Regulus... I don't know how to explain it but he enchanted it as if it was him."

Sirius took a deep breath in before looking back at the picture frame, suddenly very aware of his surrounding. He did not know if he should throw a fist or flee from the room. What magic was this? He has never heard of an interactive picture frame.

"What dark magic have you guys dabbled in?"

Y/N threw a hard glance at him, "It is not dark magic."

"Then what is it? There is no such thing as a talking picture! I've seriously gone mad. Merlin."

Regulus and Y/N watched as Sirius gripped his mane of a hair, crouching onto the ground whilst he rock himself slowly. He was mumbling incoherent things under his breath. Regulus could not help the stiffle that escaped his lips. The younger wizard found it beyond amusing. It was entertaining him. At the sound, Sirius snapped up, pointing fingers at the picture frame.

"Why are you showing me this?"

"To show you how great of a wizard he was, Sirius. I, of all people, knew the dispute between you two. You don't need the closure but I know deep down, you wonder just the same as me. We grew up together under this roof and we both have so many unanswered questions."

"I know the irrational and troubling things we did back then, but we grew up, we saw things we didn't before. Despite all the evil we were in, Regulus and Kreacher refused to tell me what happened. Not a bit. I know that I cannot be the only one to mourn him because Regulus is more than a stranger- he's your baby brother."

Sirius's eyes met with her glossy ones, the term sounded so foreign to him. The man whose voice was not heard and thrown behind bars felt a pin poke his heart as he realized the woman before him seeked answers he now also wants.

#regulus black x reader #regulus black oneshot #regulus black angst #regulus black imagine #regulus black x slytherin!reader #regulus black fanfic #regulus black fanfiction #harry potter fanfiction #harry potter x reader #harry potter onehost #harry potter imagine

187 notes · View notes