#this is about an oc if that wasn't already clear

[sisterdragonwithfeathers]

HOW am i meant to find photo reference for my stupid underfed old sweatshirt too-short jeans currently living his sad backstory 17-year old looser boy? What are the search terms for this?

[roosterforme]

Covering the Classics Part 7 | Bob Floyd x OC

Summary: Just when Anna starts to feel settled, a simple cookout at her friend's house turns everything upside down. Her jealousy shines through, and there's nothing she can do to try to take it back.

Warnings: Fluff, angst, adult language, masturbation, eventually 18+

Length: 4800 words

Pairing: Robert "Bob" Floyd x Female OC (this story is part of the Beer Boy/Sugar and Jake/Jessica universe)

Covering the Classics masterlist. Check my masterlist for more! Thank you to @mak-32 for the beautiful banner!

Things with Bob felt like they shifted back to normal again, and Anna was thankful for that. Every book she let him borrow was returned with a note folded up inside. Some of them were short and simple. When he handed back Love Letters of Great Men, the note simply said The dog eared pages are going to make me cry. But some of them were longer and more elaborate.

She was running a little late to meet him at the usual coffee shop, worried he would already be there. He seemed to end up paying for her drink every single time, which was honestly really sweet of him, but she felt like such a nuisance. When she walked inside, he was there, at a table with two steaming mugs in front of him and his nose buried in a book. In one of Anna's books. In her copy of Wuthering Heights.

Her whole body felt too warm as she thought about how much she would love to have Bob read every single one of the hundreds of books she owned. Maybe even read some parts out loud in that deep, soothing voice. She would love to hear his take on each plot and watch him blush as he called her the expert and asked for her opinions. She would love to take the book from his hands and pull him down into bed with her.

But she couldn't do that. They were just friends. So instead, she dropped down into the empty seat across from him and said, "Hi, Bob," with a smile she hoped wasn't as sad as she felt.

"Anna." Her name sounded like golden perfection when he said it, and she shivered. "This book... I can't stop reading it. I read it twice already," he said with a little laugh. "How in the world do you always know exactly what I'm going to like?"

Because she felt undeniably drawn to him and his preferences and everything about him.

"Because I'm a professional."

He laughed a little more as his pretty lake-blue eyes followed her cup as she brought it up to her lips. When the ceramic touched her, he looked away as his cheeks grew pink. He pushed the book across the table, and when she reached for it, he said, "Uh, just read that note later, okay?"

When she saw the edge of white paper sticking out from the worn pages, she said, "Sure, Bob."

He cleared his throat a little awkwardly. "Did you hear about the change of venue for tomorrow?"

Anna ducked her head. "Yeah, the girls told me about it at lunch yesterday. A cookout? Bradley wants to show off his new grill?"

Bob nodded and said, "Could be a nice change from the Hard Deck for once."

While he wasn't wrong, Anna hated that she still barely had enough money to make ends meet. San Diego was expensive, and when she asked Advanced Calculus what she could bring with her to their house to contribute to the meal, her friend said to bring hot dog and hamburger buns. Anna was already trying to figure out how to scrape together the ten dollars that would be required when Jessica said she already bought some along with chips and pretzels. When she didn't quite meet Anna's eyes, she knew for a fact that Jessica had figured her out.

"Yeah. I suppose," Anna told Bob. But at least at the Hard Deck, Penny didn't usually even charge her for the three dollar ginger ales. And if she did, one of the guys just put it on their tab like it was nothing. When she showed up empty handed to the cookout, she was going to feel awful that Jessica had covered for her. 

"You want another coffee?" Bob asked, standing with his own mug, but Anna shook her head. She couldn't let him pay for another thing. Perhaps deleting multi millionaire Dev Borah's phone number wasn't her best move. Not that she would ever take advantage of someone for their money. Not after what Kevin did to her.

"No. But thank you. I actually can't stay very long today."

Bob nodded before saying, "No worries. I have dinner plans with Suzanne before Mickey picks me up for D&D anyway."

And there it was once again. The reminder that Bob didn't think about that kiss nearly as much as she did. "I hope you have a great time."

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

It was late on Saturday night, and he should have been in bed, but Bob had his computer out. He reasoned that he could sleep in as late as he wanted tomorrow before heading to pick up the burgers Bradley asked him to bring for the cookout. He could stay up as long as it took for him to finish this poem and finally post it on PoetsAmongUs after looking at it for weeks.

If anyone knew he was writing about Anna, he would probably die on the spot. But nobody in his life knew he wrote anything in his free time, let alone the fact that he wrote poetry. And this poem was getting close to needing a 'mature' label if he was going to post it online.

"What are you doing?" he asked himself softly. Somehow he believed that writing about her specifically would cleanse him of these thoughts, but now he knew he was wrong. He proofread and posted his poem anyway while his skin prickled with need. He'd never experienced the kind of love his friends had, and in spite of all of her hesitations, he could imagine it happening with Anna. If anything, he liked that she seemed cautious and contemplative, he just wished she wasn't still that way toward him. 

She made him want to keep leaving her notes in the books he borrowed from her, but she also made him feel like an idiot for wanting to do that. It was maddening. He needed to sleep, but he was too warm, imagining Anna once again in place of his faceless lover while he touched himself. He almost couldn't wait until the day when someone else would take her place in his mind, even if it meant settling.

The next day, he drove his old pickup toward the coast with the burgers and a six pack of ginger ale in tow. The Spanish revival style house that Bradley purchased before he and his wife made things official again was cute with desert landscaping, but she was the one who really made it a home. There was art hanging on the walls in every room, including a panoramic watercolor of the scenery of Virginia. The front bedroom had been turned into her home office, and for some reason, she had Bradley's fraternity paddle hanging in there. The house seemed more lived in now, and Bob knew Bradley was much happier for it.

"Hey, thanks man," Bradley told him, taking the bag of burgers when he got there. He was wearing his hideous Grateful Dead shirt and holding two cans of beer on one hand, but he still managed to give Bob a quick hug. "Sugar's out back, setting up some snacks and just generally looking hot. You want a beer?"

Bob held up the ginger ales in response and said, "Thanks, but I'll just have one of these for now." The last thing he wanted was a hangover like he had after their New Year's Eve party.

"Hi!" Jessica said as she and Jake walked inside, and she made a beeline right for Bob. "Have you given any more thought to how I should paint my barbarian?"

He just smiled as she started to push him through the kitchen toward the back door. "We just played yesterday. I didn't know you'd still be in the mood to talk about your ridiculous D&D character."

"Please," she practically whined. "You know how sensitive my barbarian is."

Bob snorted; truly he never would have expected he and she would have had so much in common, but even Jessica couldn't keep his attention once he saw who Bradley's wife was talking to. Anna had some freckles on her thighs. Her cutoff denim shorts went high enough up her legs that he was treated to the sight of freckles everywhere. And that wasn't all. Not even close. The deep "V" of her shirt revealed that there was a pretty good chance the freckles even trailed down inside her bra.

He wasn't going to survive the cookout if he had to look at her all afternoon. Her red hair was clipped up on top of her head with some sort of claw-shaped thing, and her skin was just everywhere. Her neck and her legs and the swell of her breasts. Her fingernails were burgundy again, just like the first day he saw her. She hadn't even noticed him yet, which was terrible, because if she had, he would have looked away by now. Instead he was given ample opportunity to memorize the way her legs looked as she shifted her weight from one foot to the other, shuffling her beat up sneakers a bit along the patio.

"Oh," Jessica whispered, squeezing his bicep gently when he stopped responding to her. "Yeah, that'll do it." Her tone sounded slightly sympathetic, and it made Bob so self conscious. "Let's go say hi."

He shook his head jerkily and muttered, "In a second." Anna was currently laughing, head thrown back in delight, and Bob got the briefest peek at the strip of skin above her shorts and her bellybutton, and his brain actually stopped functioning. When she tipped her head forward again, an overjoyed smile still on her lips, she met his gaze. His brain jump started again as her teeth sank into her bottom lip, and he took a step in her direction before he could reconsider.

"Hey, Bob." She sounded a little breathless as she said his name while Bradley's wife smirked at the two of them. But he and Anna were just friends, and he needed to remember that.

"Anna," he replied softly, slipping his hands into his jeans pockets. His palms were sweaty, and he knew he was blushing. He'd never make it out of here alive. Not when she was looking at him like that. 

She smiled and said, "I came up with a few, slightly more obscure book recommendations for you. I was thinking maybe we could go back to the bookstore and look for some of them that I don't currently own? I might be fun to-"

Bob was already about to agree with whatever she said, because it sounded exactly perfect to him, then he heard someone screeching his name.

"Bob!" There was a brunette flash streaking across the small backyard, and then Natasha Trace was in his arms. She was giggling next to his ear where she kissed his cheek three times in a row, knocking his glasses askew.

"I didn't know you were coming home today," he said in surprise.

"I didn't tell anyone except Bradley. Did I surprise you?" she asked.

"That's an understatement, Nat," he replied, hugging her tighter when she refused to let go. "I missed you."

Her familiar laughter was comforting as she said, "You have no idea how much I hate flying with anyone other than you." When she finally started to pull away from him, she added, "Now we can pick up where we left off before my deployment."

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

Anna couldn't believe how incredible her friend's house was. It was huge and beautiful, and she had a yard. A yard! In California! There was colorful art on the walls, which appeared to be a collection of things that she and Bradley enjoyed. Her office was something Anna could only dream about, and the kitchen was bigger than her whole apartment.

After a tour of the interior, she stood on the patio in the autumn sunlight in a pair of shorts, something she would have never been able to do in New Jersey. Every day seemed to get better than the last, assuming she could keep the intrusive thoughts about Kevin away. And also assuming she could figure out what she was supposed to do about Bob and the growing collection of feelings she seemed to have for him.

"You have to hear what happened in my Differential Equations lecture on Friday afternoon," her friend was saying as they stood near the new grill that would soon be the centerpiece of the afternoon. "You won't even believe it."

Anna listened for a minute to the wild story, bursting into laughter when she learned how her friend thought she was going to have to call the fire department while she was teaching. Then she saw him. Bob was here with his tidy hair and his adorable glasses and his big hands, and like always her brain filled up with the beautiful poetry she loved so much. Somehow it seemed to go together with him. Those stunning words matched the way he made her feel.

She had to bite her lip in an attempt to calm herself down. "Hey, Bob," she managed to say as his cheeks flushed pink.

"Anna."

Oh, she was a mess. She thought about him way too frequently, even taking the time to compile the titles of some books she had read and loved, convincing herself he might like some of them too. "I came up with a few, slightly more obscure book recommendations for you. I was thinking maybe we could go back to the bookstore and look for some of them that I don't currently own? I might be fun to-"

But she stopped mid sentence when she heard some excited chatter behind Bob, and then a woman came running out through the back door. A beautiful woman. Calling his name. Jumping into his arms. Anna was treated to the sight of the woman's lips brushing against Bob's cheek while he held onto her like he was just reunited with the only person he ever cared about. She had to watch as this other woman ran her fingers gently along his skin in exactly the way Anna fantasized about. And when she looked around, nobody seemed concerned by this turn of events, rather they all acted like it was perfectly normal that Bob and this woman were whispering intimately to each other.

Then Anna heard her say, "Now we can pick up where we left off before my deployment."

Oh. Well. There was a sour taste in her mouth as she took a step backwards as the rest of the group greeted this mystery woman. Anna was going to have to have words with Advanced Calculus and Advanced Physics after this. Maybe they tried to set her up with Bob, because they didn't like this other woman? That idea vaporized as soon as she saw Jessica embrace her with a bright smile on her face.

Anna felt like her chest was growing tighter by the second, and then Jessica started to pull the pretty brunette toward her. "You have to come meet the newest faculty member from the English department! Dr. Anna Webber."

The woman looked her up and down with dark, appraising eyes and a little smirk set firmly on her lips. Then she stuck out her right hand and said, "I'm Natasha Trace."

The last thing Anna wanted to do right now was shake hands, but Jessica was looking at her with concern, probably wondering why she was just standing there. "It's a pleasure," Anna said with as much conviction as she could muster, shaking hands as briefly as she could.

"You teach at San Diego State too?" Natasha asked as her smirk bloomed into a bigger smile. When Anna nodded, she laughed and added, "What the hell do they put in the water at that school?"

Jessica was beaming now as she said, "Anna gives book recommendations to Bob all the time."

"Really? Is that so?" Natasha asked, still eyeing Anna like a predator would their prey, when Bob appeared with two cans of ginger ale. He gave one to Natasha and then tried to hand the other one to Anna as Natasha said, "I actually read a phenomenal book last month, Bob. I'll write down the title for you."

He kind of smiled, still holding out the other can toward Anna who felt like she was on the verge of screaming. "No. Thank you," she told him, taking a few steps away as she clocked the hurt expression on his face. "I don't want any."

The uncomfortable feeling was overtaking Anna's whole body now when Natasha leaned a little closer to Bob and softly muttered, "Let me guess... you have a little crush? This happened in my absence?"

Anna turned and went inside, searching for the bathroom she'd seen on the house tour. That woman was mocking her. Anna didn't want to hear any more of that conversation, because it was making her skin crawl. And worse still, she was finally able to identify this feeling as she closed and locked the door and leaned on the sink vanity.

Jealousy. 

She was more jealous of this petite brunette who seemed to think Bob's personal space was hers for the taking than she ever was about Kevin and Alyssa. She was beside herself at the idea of another woman giving Bob book recommendations and making fun of his stupid little crush on her.

This was exactly why she should have never let herself have feelings. When she looked in the mirror, she saw tears in her eyes. "Shit," she whispered. She didn't have a car, so she couldn't just discreetly leave. Plus she'd been looking forward to eating something other than one of her sad sandwiches for days.

The jealousy gave way to anger as she wiped her eyes with a tissue and dropped it in the trash can. Her new friends invited her here, and she was going to stay. She wasn't going to let her feelings for Bob Floyd dictate her mood or what she felt she was allowed to do. She wasn't going to let another man run her life like that ever again.

With her head held high, she walked back outside, making it a point to avoid Bob and Natasha at all costs. She willingly had a thirty minute conversation with Jake and Mickey about the Marvel Cinematic Universe as an excuse to keep her distance. Then she and Bradley discussed the extensive musical catalogue of the Grateful Dead while she slowly sipped a beer to try to take the edge off. Then he turned on the grill, and the smell of food cooking had her excited enough that it was becoming easier and easier to ignore Bob.

When she accidentally looked his way, he was already eyeing her with a confused expression. She could pretend all day long that she didn't care what he thought and that she wasn't jealous at all. She could be so stubborn about this. At least all they had between them was that one awkward, fumbled kiss in his truck. It wasn't like she'd slept with him before he ditched her for the much better looking Natasha.

She was still doing a fine job of ignoring both of them when Bradley announced that dinner was ready. Anna took a plate of food and scooted all the way to the end of the rectangular patio table, snagging the spot across from Jessica. She was willing to talk about anything right now, even her friend's physics curriculum that she could barely comprehend, but then Bob was right next to her.

"Mind if I sit here?" he asked cautiously, setting his plate next to hers. Anna just shrugged, and then she was enveloped in his clean scent as he eased himself down in the seat with his knee hitting her thigh. She quickly crossed her legs before scooting her chair a few inches to the side away from his. "Are you okay?"

Anna almost laughed as Natasha found a spot on the other side of the table. "I'm just fine," she said before taking a huge bite of her burger and avoiding looking at either of them.

"Right," Bob whispered, frowning down toward his plate as she gave him side eye. "I just... feel like I did something to upset you."

Anna shook her head, and when she was done chewing the delicious food, she said, "Not at all. You're free to make the decisions you want to make. And I'm free to keep my books to myself since you've got other ones now."

Bob looked at her and asked, "What's that supposed to mean?" 

But Anna was well on her way to starting a conversation with Jessica that could probably last for hours. She ignored him as she asked, "Hey, Jess, what's up with that physics professor who just started wearing a toupee?"

"Dr. Leeland!" she screeched before launching into an animated conversation on the topic of her colleague's hair piece just as expected.

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

Bob was so confused. He had been about to jump at the chance to hang out at the bookstore in North Park with Anna when Natasha arrived. At that point, he honestly thought this was going to be the best day he'd had in a while. Anna seemed happy to see him, and one of his best friends was finally home from deployment. But as soon as that thought entered his mind, Anna started acting like she wanted nothing to do with him. So much so that she asked Jess about some guy's fake hair? Bob sat there and listened to the conversation while he ate, trying to interject, but Anna just wasn't having it. She had even rejected his ginger ale.

What the hell did he do wrong? All he wanted to do was talk to her about books and look at her freckles. She was sitting right next to him, but he may as well have been on Jupiter with the way she seemed convinced that he wasn't even there at all.

As everyone started to finish eating, Bob washed his food down with the rest of his ginger ale. Maybe he should just head home early. He'd be spending all week at work with Nat, so it wasn't like he was going to miss out on much there. And being around Anna when she wasn't even looking at him made him feel like an idiot for secretly writing poems about her. He sat at the table alone for an extra minute with his head cradled in his hands, then he took his trash inside the house.

Of course Anna was the only other person in the kitchen, helpfully washing the grilling utensils and other things Bradley left in the sink. She glanced his way briefly before continuing with her task, and Bob headed for the trash can. He had the perfect view of the freckles on the backs of her thighs, but he didn't feel like he should be looking now. He stood quietly for a few seconds before deciding that he'd give this one last try before heading out.

"Anna," he said just loud enough that he knew she could hear him over the running water. "Can we talk? I just feel like I did something to upset you? When you started to invite me to the bookstore, I was going to say yes. Obviously I'd love to go with-"

She looked at him over her shoulder, and he went silent at her glare. "Why don't you just go with Natasha instead?"

His brow furrowed in confusion. "That's not the kind of thing she and I usually do together."

"Oh?" she asked, her voice dripping with something that made Bob's skin tingle with goosebumps. "Does she usually recommend books while you're out to dinner? Or do you take her to see her favorite movies?" 

She turned off the water and faced him without bothering to dry her hands. His lips parted as he watched the furious looking blush that crept along her chest, up her neck, and to her cheeks. 

"I don't really do those things with her either," he said slowly, trying to puzzle his way through this. She sounded almost jealous of Nat, but that couldn't be. That didn't make any sense at all. Anna made it clear she didn't want to be with him.

"Well, you're free to do whatever you want, Bob," she said with a shrug, chin held high. "This is why we're just friends. You've already got plenty of women to choose from, like Suzanne and Natasha, and I'm not about to get caught up in another attractive man who seems too good to be true."

She started to duck past him, but Bob blocked her path. "Whoa, whoa! No, you've got it all wrong." She doubled back the other way, but he stepped to the side until she bumped into him. "Suzanne is my elderly neighbor. And Natasha and I are friends," he said quickly, and he was rewarded with Anna's brown eyes snapping up to meet his. "I've known her for years. She's the pilot I usually fly with."

Anna took one stumbling step backwards toward the sink. Her teeth sank into her lip like earlier before she whispered, "Oh." She swallowed hard, drawing Bob's gaze back to the freckles on her neck as her blush grew deeper. "So you're not... into her?"

His voice sounded deep even to his own ears as he promised, "Not even slightly. Not like I'm into you."

The kitchen went so silent that Bob could hear laughter filtering from the patio through the open door, and Anna's expression softened as she took a tiny step forward. Then another one. Then one more before she was launching herself into his arms. Bob could feel her damp hands in his hair as their lips met, and it was nothing like the way they kissed in his truck. She wasn't tentative, and he didn't pull away as she kissed him harder. This time her body was pressed to his, and she moaned softly when he let his hands settle on her hips.

Anna coaxed him impossibly closer with her fingers in his hair and on the back of his neck, and soon he had her pinned against the edge of the counter. He could feel denim rubbing against denim as she parted her lips and wiggled slowly against him. When Bob swiped his tongue along her bottom lip, Anna let him taste her before her lips drifted along to his neck.

"Fuck," he grunted, squeezing her hips in his hands as his index finger met the soft skin of her lower back. She was sucking gently on the spot just to the left of his Adam's apple, and there was no way she couldn't feel how hard he was getting for her right now.

Those burgundy fingernails were scraping gently along his scalp as he rolled his hips one time against her body. When Anna licked his neck, he forced himself to ask the question that was fluttering around the peripheral of his aroused brain. "Are you going to tell me this is another mistake? Like that night in my truck?"

Anna pulled her lips away from his pulse point long enough to whisper, "It wasn't even a mistake last time. I just couldn't help myself."

Then Bob kissed her lips until she was clinging to him with her back arched against the counter and her hips held tightly in his hands. When he could tell someone was coming inside, he pulled himself away, panting as she tried to chase him for more. He could see the questioning look on her face as he stepped aside just before Mickey and Jake walked inside, arguing about who ate the last hot dog.

Anna turned back toward the sink as she blushed, and Bob was aching to kiss her again. Dying to confirm that she wasn't going to write him off again. He cleared his throat and asked, "Will you let me drive you home later?"

Bob heard her soft laugh and whispered, "Yes." Then with a smile, he took the last can of ginger ale from the refrigerator and set it on the counter next to her. She looked up at him, eyes filled with need as he excused himself back out to the patio where he started to count down the minutes until he could suggest it was late enough to leave.

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

Anna, you are living the dream, baby! Let him love you the way he wants to! And once again, in Natasha we trust. Thanks @mak-32 and @beyondthesefourwalls

PART 8

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Threads

Azriel X Acheron Sister (Female OC/Reader)

Chapter 2 | Chapter 3

If Feyre was the hunter, then she was the carer. Where Feyre's hands became painted in crimson, marred by calluses and burden of survival, (Y/N)'s were gentle on skin, clearing the dirt from cuts and bruises that gave her and her family life.

When the family lost their fortune and left Feyre dragging her family towards tomorrow, she'd felt abandoned. The weight felt like a rope wrapping itself around her hands, cutting into her palms. As much as she loved her family, she didn't know how much longer she could continue risking her life each day to come home with a meager meal and an ungrateful audience. Until she found her dear younger sister, still fresh faced as the morning dew on grass, outside in the rays of fresh sunrise cutting apart the firewood Nesta was meant to the night before.

Feyre felt her guilt rise each day she saw her younger sister's hands grow more and more like hers, but her guilt was put to rest when (Y/N) would gently reach over and interlace their fingers. No matter how hard her skin became, her touch remained as soft as her soul. Her spirit had not been broken despite all this, and Feyre owed it to her to not break either.

(Y/N) loathed seeing her sisters in pain. And especially Feyre, but she knew her sister would drag her own corpse out that wooden door than let her family starve. And each night she came home, (Y/N) felt her heart beat again to see her sister safe.

So the day she saw her sister leave to take care of a sick aunt she'd never heard of, (Y/N) felt a piece of her heart leave with her. She'd wondered each day if Feyre was well, if she had found the time to paint like she used to. If Feyre was grateful to have reprieve from her family. But now, with her father's wealth restored and a full belly each night, for the first time since she was a child, (Y/N) felt content. Her beloved sisters were happy, her father thriving and Feyre off to see the world and, she hoped, pursuing the talent that she had. Although they got their estate back - one she found Nesta and Elain to be particularly pleased about - she couldn't help but miss the days when they would huddle around a small fire, Feyre by her side.

(Y/N) had taken the longest to adjust to their fortune. Too young to begin proper learning, she had to learn from her sisters. It was a struggle, learning to read and write at her age. And too used to hand me downs and holes, the softest silks and velvets on her skin felt foreign where Elain and Nesta felt at home. She wasn't ungrateful, but it felt wrong when she didn't know how Feyre was. She wondered if she hadn't heard from Feyre because she was busy, or perhaps her letters get lost too easily. But without a doubt, she knew her sister was ok.

'Miss (Y/N),' a gentle knock resounded from the door. (Y/N) looked up from her book at Mrs Laurent's voice - a children's book of pirates and faeries in a far away land. She had missed a part of her childhood, and she wanted to catch up as best she could. 'Your sisters request your presence in the drawing room.' Before she could ask, Mrs Laurent scurried away without another word.

She furrowed her eyebrows, confused at Mrs Laurent's skittish behaviour. Regardless, she made her way to the drawing room, where she heard her older sisters' voices, plus one more. A voice she hadn't heard in a year.

Pushing open the carved oak door, her eyes laid sight to a familiar stranger. No longer was she gaunt, with hollow cheekbones and bruised eyes. There she sat, healthy and glowing, and more beautiful than she ever remembered. As if from a painting made of a thousand paint strokes and the brightest shades of colour.

'Feyre,' she breathed, running into Feyre's already open arms. As pieces of a puzzle fit, the sisters embraced as one. Pulling apart, Feyre's fingers framed her sister's face. Her youth had begun to flee, as now stood before her was a woman, with intelligence in her eyes and a smile of the sun.

'My, you've grown up without me,' Feyre chuckled, tears blurring her vision like a hazy dream. But it wasn't a dream, and her sister was thriving and well.

(Y/N)'s eyes wandered her sister's face, with the longer she looked the more startled she became. At first she thought it was the lack of hunger, with Feyre no longer needing for food. But the longer she looked, the longer her mind grew confused. Her sister's beauty was beyond comprehension, and it was confirmed by the slight point of her ears. Her gaze flowed down to seek familiar sights and scars, only to find smooth, poreless skin amongst new, black markings crawling her arm.

Fae. The very thing her family warned her to fear. To hate. To hunt and despise for their cruelty and violence. Yet looking at her sister, she saw nothing but the winter nights Feyre would keep her warm and fed. The days when Feyre would give her an extra serving, even if it meant going hungry. All those memories, and yet...

'(Y/N),' Nesta's sharp voice rang, her fiery eyes piercing Feyre. 'Sit down.'

Elain moved a space over in the sofa, a cup of tea in her hand. (Y/N) looked at her sisters, inhaling before taking a seat next to Feyre. Nesta's eyes sharpened, nostrils flaring slightly as Elain glanced between her younger sisters. Feyre smiled, interlacing their fingers like they always did.

'I need you to listen.'

-☆-

'You wanted other High Fae to come...and...the Queens of the Realm'.

It was overwhelming, to find out her sister's disappearance was a lie. Of the struggles and pain she had gone through on her own. How she had been living in luxury while her sister had suffered - had died. Her grip on Feyre's fingers shook as her sisters argued.

'Find somewhere else.' Nesta demanded. 'I don't want them in my house. Or near Elain and (Y/N).'

'Nesta please,' Feyre pleaded. As Nesta fought back with Feyre, all (Y/N) could think about was Feyre's lifeless body, abandoned and forgotten by her family living in the warmth and comfort Feyre fought for each day in the woods. How each time Nesta and Elain would demand more and more from her, and how (Y/N) did nothing.

When Feyre had left, Nesta and Elain did their best to care for her - in their own ways. Elain, undeniably the more affectionate, would often sit with (Y/N) as she did her embroidery. She would often chat away about her new fiance, about the garden she had been tending to. But questions about (Y/N) fell short when looking at her younger sister. Nesta was more difficult to read. Often she'd been berated by her older sister during lessons, expecting her to reach their own levels of intellect in barely a fraction of the time they were given. But she found moments of care, when she woke up in the library with a blanket and her book marked where she had fallen asleep the night before.

She loved her sisters. She adored them all for caring over her for her entire life. But Feyre was unlike a sister. She was a mother, a carer, a saviour, her hope in life. Her dearest friend. And she would not leave Feyre hanging on her own any longer.

'We'll help.' All three sisters turned to her, her first words taking them all by surprise. 'We will help, because we didn't before. We abandoned you, I will not abandon you again.'

Feyre's eyes widened. Her baby sister, no longer a shy doe but a mighty deer, standing on her feet with her head held high. Nesta grit her teeth at her younger sister's sudden defiance, as Elain slowly nodded in shy agreement.

'We keep it a secret - we send the servants away.' Elain agreed, twisting her hands in her lap. 'No one will know'.

More words were exchanged, but (Y/N) paid no mind as she sipped her scalding tea. It burned her tongue and throat, but it kept her thoughts away from her guilt. Perhaps this was a mistake to invite more fae into their family home. Perhaps she'll find herself bewitched and dragged into Prythian for her weakness and naivety. But if asked, she would put her life in the palm of Feyre's hands without a second thought.

Once Elain left to shoo away the staff, and Nesta left to likely get away from Feyre, she turned to look at her sister.

'You're so beautiful now,' Feyre sighed, brushing her sister's hair behind her ears as if not a single day had passed. 'Have you been well?'

'I'm alright, but you...We hadn't heard from you in so long...'

'Please,' Feyre interrupted, seeing her sister's sadness and fear in her eyes. No matter how long it's been, she could always read her sister. 'I'm glad you're safe. We have a lot to catch up on.'

-☆-

Once the last carriage of servants disappeared into the night, Feyre's three guests arrived. They were large - both that they occupied so much space, but their auras seemed to permeate through every room of the house. Large wings attempting - poorly - to hide their true size weapons on their waists. Her sisters seemed to suffocate on their sheer authority, Nesta shielding Elain behind her as Feyre brought them closer.

'My sisters, Nesta, Elain and (Y/N) Acheron', the three companions seemed to light up at the last name, a name they heard fall out of Feyre's mouth in moments of trust and fondness. A name that Rhysand knew brought uncapped love and joy to Feyre.

'Cassian', Feyre nodded to the large figure on her left, to the Fae with golden brown skin, hazel eyes and black shoulder length hair. He was the tallest of the three, who nodded at his introduction.

'Azriel', Feyre turned to her right, to a man with similar features - hazel eyes and golden brown skin - but with shorter hair. (Y/N) couldn't help but linger her eyes. He was undeniably the most attractive man she'd ever seen. But it was impolite to stare, so she looked away when hazel greeted her sight.

'And Rhysand, High Lord of the Night Court'.

The man with hair that shone with blue-black shades of the midnight sky, and violet eyes as vibrant as Nesta's amethyst necklace stepped forward with a smile and bowed, 'Thank you for your hospitality - and generosity'.

All three were undeniably beautiful beings, all with power and strength she had never seen or felt in her life. Their beauty felt surreal, too perfect and attractive that made even the extravagant Acheron estate looked dull. And Feyre fit right into their company. She stood where she belonged. She smiled at all three, curtseying as her sisters remained stiff at her side.

'The cook left dinner on the table. We should eat before it goes cold.' Nesta said be striding away towards her seat at the table.

'Nice to meet you,' Elain said, her voice caught in her throat as she followed after Nesta.

Feyre and her companions glanced at each other, sharing looks about the obvious tension choking the air. (Y/N) glided across to her sister's companions. Closer, they were far more imposing than she could have ever imagined, with her having to crane her neck to meet their gaze. A faint metallic scent drifted into her nose, sharp and unwelcome. Likely the magic that seeped out of their pores.

'Thank you for coming, and for taking care of my sister,' She said, stretching her hand out. If they noticed her shaking, they paid no mind as Rhysand shook her hand gently with a smile.

'It's been a pleasure,' Rhysand replied, 'Your sister has been a welcome company in my court.'

Politely, (Y/N) smiled once again before gesturing to the table, 'Please.'

Her gentle smile met Azriel's gaze, who couldn't help but watch the youngest Acheron as she took her seat next to Elain - who appeared more than happy to be sat next to her and not one of Feyre's companions. Despite her sister, Elain remained stiff when Azriel took his seat next to (Y/N). Slowly, (Y/N) slipped her hand in Elain's shaky hand.

The dinner had been a silent, uncomfortable affair. (Y/N) picked at her food, having lost her appetite from the stiff air in the room. She saw Feyre struggling to eat, and wondered if that was from the awkwardness or from being Fae. She had many questions - how different was her sister? How had she changed? How much of her Feyre was still there? It was easy to get lost in her assumptions of Fae, but for Feyre, she'd be more than happy to try.

Coughing slightly to clear the anxiety from her throat, she turned to her seat neighbour.

'Your wings are beautiful,' She said, gazing at the large expanse of leather and bone. Similar to the bats she'd seen glding through the stars, his were shows of strength and beauty. Elain and Nesta stared at their younger sister - wide-eyed and fiery, respectively.

Azriel set down his fork, turning slightly to meet (Y/N)'s curious gaze. 'Thank you. Cassian and I hail from a race of faeries called Illyrians. We're born hearing the song of the wind.'

'The song of the wind?' (Y/N) asked. Undeniably she'd never heard of such a thing, but it sounded beautiful. Sounded unlike this world. To imagine herself so intuned into nature the way faeries seemed... 'It must be exciting, seeing new places and being able to touch the clouds.'

'It can be very exciting,' Azriel agreed, nodding. A gentle curve appeared on his lips as he gently added, 'Clouds feel like the softest of feathers.'

(Y/N) couldn't help but smile at that thought.

'You look like High Fae,' Nesta cut, her tone as sharp as the knife in her hand. 'But you are not one?'

'Nesta...' (Y/N) sighed, knowing her sister would not stop.

'Only the High Faes look like them,' Cassian replied, a finger pointed towards Feyre and Rhysand, 'are High Fae. Everyone else, any other differences, mark you as what they like to call 'lesser' faeries.'

'So only Illyrians have wings?' (Y/N) turned to Azriel once more.

'There are Fae that can be born with wings, but my people are the most common in my court to possess them.'

'And your court...is it always night if it's the Night Court?' (Y/N) felt more curious than shame to ask these questions. How can one not be curious when the world continues to grow in front of her eyes?

'We do have a day and night, just as other courts do. But our nights are the most beautiful in Prythian that you'll ever see.' Azriel replied. He paused silently, before adding, 'Perhaps you'll get the chance to see them some day.'

The more she learned of the magical land up north, the more she realised how much she didn't know. And the more she questioned how true her people's tales of Fae were. If they barely knew of the Fae, how can they decide that they were all barbaric? That they were merciless killers? Perhaps they'd been like Feyre - hunters of survival. Or perhaps the stories began as bedtime tales, told to children to keep them away from the woods at night.

Her heart had pulled towards her sister, and her head and family have been telling her to run. But now as she was sat next to this gentle giant, sharing tales and questions, how could she know what to believe? Was this the trick of fae? Preying on curiosity to lure humans in? Her head began to dizzy as questions bounced around to the beat of her pounding heart.

[lovewithmary]

(not) moving on — a max verstappen x stark!oc x charles leclerc series

★ fc: madison beer ☆ summary: evangeline "evie" stark is in love with her best friend, max verstappen, but he tries his best to keep her at arm's length. but what happens when she starts to get close to his fellow drivers in the paddock? ★ notes: early chapter bc I am too impatient so I’m taking the poll results as is and assuming charles is the winner. anyways, drama is happening!!!

previous next series masterlist

"Evie's baking,"

"We know,"

"My daughter is baking for two tiny villages or two super soldiers, and none of you thought to ask if there was something wrong?" Tony asked, watching as his fellow Avengers, his wife, and his youngest daughter were all eating the pastries that Evie had been baking since she got off the phone.

"Parker tried grabbing the spatula from her hand, but she threw a bowl at his head. But luckily his Peter Tingle saved him and he dodged," Bucky explained, mouthful with a slice of one of the cakes Evie made.

"I told you not to call it the Peter Tingle!" Peter complained.

"I think she had a fight with Max," Morgan's tiny voice piped up, oblivious to the heads that turned to her.

"Morg, why didn't you say that earlier?" Pepper asked.

Morgan blinked innocently and shrugged, then said, "You didn't ask,"

"Okay, who wants to be the one to ask her about Max?"

A tense air fell between some of the most powerful people in the world, only for them to touch their noses and say, "Not it!"

Unfortunately for him, Tony himself was the last one to do it, which made him curse. "I should've just stayed in my lab," he muttered but went to the kitchen to see that Evie was already starting another batch of cupcakes as if the pile of used cupcake liners between Steve and Bucky wasn't enough.

"Hello, tesoro," Tony greeted, concerned at the fact that Evie barely reacted at the sound of his voice.

"The dining room isn't that far from the kitchen, papa. I don't need to have powers or be a Super Soldier to hear you guys," Evie commented.

"So, will it be easier to ask what happened between you and Max that's made you spiral into a hurricane of frosting— is that macrons? When did you learn how to make macrons?" Tony asked, caught off-guard.

"Max and I had a little misunderstanding. And I didn't know how to make macrons until earlier," Evie responded.

"A little misunderstanding? You're taking over my kitchen with baked goods for a little misunderstanding?"

"I will find a way to bake you if you don't stop!" She threateningly responded, the aforementioned spatula Peter tried taking was in her hand menacingly pointed at Tony.

Tony raised his arms up in surrender, "I won't ask then. I will just be here, in the corner of the kitchen, giving you moral support," he said, taking a step away from his daughter and near the door just in case.

Silence fell between the father and daughter, Evie angrily making a bowl of frosting while Tony was thinking about whether or not he had to bring in Pepper for his own moral support.

That was until, "Do I insert myself into people's business too much? Is it something I do regularly?" Evie blurted out.

"I think you insert yourself into people's business when you think you need to. I don't think it's a lot, but then again, you help me with my business, so I can't say it's too much," Tony shrugged.

She groaned, not getting a clear answer. She should've known that her dad wasn't going to outright tell her when she was being too invasive. "I'm serious, dad," she told him.

"Did Max say something? Whatever he said, ignore it. He drives for a living, he's wrong no matter what,"

"I thought you liked Max. You've known him since he was a kid,"

"I don't like him if he makes my daughter upset,"

"Dad..."

"What did he say?" Tony asked once more.

Evie sighed before washing her hands and grabbing her phone from the pocket of her apron and then giving it to her dad, unlocked and the texts already on the screen. She watched as her dad's face turned angry.

"I'll shoot him out of the sky with one of my repulsors—"

"Dad, no,"

"He didn't have to talk to you like that! That little shit—"

"What do I do?" Evie interrupted him, knowing that if she let him rant, he'd end up wearing one of the Iron Man suits, already on the way to wherever the next race was.

"Do what Starks do best,"

"Which is?"

"To get under people's skin,"

[wildernessuntothemselves]

Jealousy, Jealousy... | Part 5

A/N: don't even have a summary for this. oc is in love with gyu and gyu is in love with another girl but both are virgin losers and gyu is a horndog who would let oc do what she wants to him just as long as he gets to cum.

Word count: 5.9k

Genre: Smut, angst

Warnings: fem!reader, drinking, sub!beomgyu, dom!reader, blowjob, edging, overstimulation, degradation, nipple play, cum eating, fingering (female receiving).

Haeun’s appearances increase along with the band’s gigs, inviting herself to all the afterparties and mingling with the new crowd Beomgyu curated.  

It's a cause of contest between you. You keep telling him that she's using him but he doesn’t care. He just wants her attention. Besides, every time you bring her up, he brings up Yeonjun and the whole thing just devolves into a fight, and so bit by bit you just learn to shut up and keep your distance–to protect yourself from the pain and to stop fighting with him. 

You’re once again at one of the band’s gigs, but this time you’re wearing Yeonjun’s merch. You’re here to cheer for him, not your asshole best friend, who by the way was so obviously drunk he keeps messing up, even to your woefully untrained ears. 

You can see him struggling and see the band shooting him dirty looks every time he messes up. You'd feel bad for him if he wasn't such an asshole. Actually, you still feel bad for him. You can't help it. You’re so worried about him that you can’t even enjoy the performance. Not that anyone can really when the vibe is so off with the whole band. 

And this isn’t a one-time thing even. It has happened a few times now. Beomgyu seems to be slipping. You blame Haeun. Ever since she came into his life, he became like this. 

As soon as the last song ends, Beomgyu storms off backstage. His band members awkwardly stay behind to say goodbye to the crowd but you can tell they’re fuming. 

You quickly go backstage, hoping to catch Beomgyu before the members do. For what? You don’t know exactly. You just know your best friend is in trouble and you want to help him. 

But unfortunately, the band makes it back before you do. You go there to find them already ripping into him. 

“For fuck’s sake man. If you wanna get drunk, by all means do it, but on your own time. We’re trying to get signed here. We can’t have you ruin it for us.” Soobin curses at Beomgyu.

“Oh, like you’ve never performed drunk or high before.” Beomgyu retorts, clearly defensive. 

“Yes, but we’ve never let it affect our performance.” Yeonjun interjects, and Beomgyu looks at him with such venom, you think he might lunge forward and punch him. “No, you let your shitty singing and botched notes do that for you.” 

“Oh, yeah? Is that what you’re gonna tell people after you’re kicked out of the band?”

That does it. Beomgyu lunges forward, but Taehyun was anticipating this and he grabs Beomgyu and holds him back. Luckily, he is much stronger than your scrawny best friend. “Hey, hey, let’s calm down.”

“What is he talking about?” Beomgyu demands, and the boys look at Soobin. 

“It won’t come to that.” Soobin tries to calm him down but Beomgyu will not have it. “Won’t come to what? Are you thinking of kicking me out?” 

“No. No, we won’t because you are going to get your shit together and clean your act up.” Soobin deadpans, “Right?” 

Though Soobin was trying his best to reassure Beomgyu, there was also a clear threat there, and Beomgyu shoves Taehyun off him. 

“Right.” He says darkly, grabbing his guitar and walking out. 

You try to run after him but Yeonjun grabs your arm to stop you. “Let him go. He’s an idiot.” 

But you shake your head. “I can’t. He’s my best friend. I have to be there for him.” 

He sighs in disappointment, letting you go, and you run to the parking lot, wondering if you’ve missed him and Beomgyu had taken a taxi home already. But thankfully, you find him standing in front of one, just… waiting? 

When he sees you, he gets into the car and leaves the door open, obviously waiting for you to get in so you do, closing the door behind you before the driver pulls off. 

“I thought you might’ve left.” You say awkwardly. 

“I was waiting for you.” 

Yeah, you definitely did the right thing. If Beomgyu had waited and you didn’t come, you know he would’ve been super pissed, probably thinking that you chose Yeonjun over him. 

You don’t say anything else for the whole drive home. You didn’t want to get into it in front of a stranger so you wait until you’re back inside your apartment to speak up. 

“I know you probably don’t want to hear this,” You start nervously once you’re back home, “But you really need to focus. You can't risk your future like this."

"Like you fucking care. It's all because of you." He accuses you and you reel back in shock.  "What?" 

"Why did you have to fuck my friend?"

"Oh my god, I can't listen to this again." Your hands fly to your head, already feeling a headache coming because of this tired point. What does this even have to do with him getting drunk and ruining the band’s performances?

But Beomgyu doubles down on his stupid point. “Well, you’re going to have to because your boyfriend wants to kick me out of the band.” 

“You are crazy! This has nothing to do with me and Yeonjun.” You shout, exasperated, “They will kick you out because you’re going on stage drunk and playing like shit.” 

“Wow, thanks for the support.” Beomgyu snorts, looking hurt, but you won’t let him get away with guilt-tripping you for his questionable behavior. “No. You won’t do that. You won’t make me feel bad for calling you out on your shit. What the hell are you even doing? You’re jeopardizing your whole career by acting like a goddamn idiot. What has gotten into you?” 

He looks down, not answering you.

“You weren’t like this. Not before she came along.” You mutter and his head snaps up to look at you. “What is that supposed to mean?” 

Fuck, why did you even bring it up? Now you’ll get into an even bigger fight. “It means that maybe she is a bad influence on you, with all the parties and the drinking and shit.” 

“That’s fucking rich coming from the girlfriend of the party animal himself.” And there it is. 

“Why are you so fucking obsessed with Yeonjun? I thought he was your friend.” 

“He is not my friend anymore. Not after what he did.” Beomgyu speaks as if Yeonjun has stabbed him in the back when he may have given him a warning before it’s too late. If he hadn’t said anything, Beomgyu wouldn’t know the band is even considering kicking him out. 

“You’re bringing it on yourself. If you would just not drink on the fucking job then your career wouldn’t be at risk right now.” 

“I can’t believe you’re taking his side.”

“I am not taking anyone’s side.”

“Well, you should!” He screams, clearly getting emotional. “You’re my best friend. You should be on my side! They’re fucking threatening to take my dream away and all you can think about is defending your boyfriend.” 

“I am being your best friend! A real best friend calls you out when you’re making a mistake before it’s too late.” You try to clarify, “Beomgyu, I don’t know why you’re doing this but I don’t want you to ruin this for yourself.” 

“I’m just stressed out.” He says slowly, “Which you would know if you had bothered being a friend and asked.” 

Now maybe you shouldn’t get into it now, but you can’t help being peeved by what he said, and you just blurt out, “It’s hard to ask when you’re so busy getting your face sucked off by her.” 

He’s been hanging out with her so often that you hardly even see him anymore. How the hell are you supposed to know what he’s feeling if you don’t even see him? 

But of course, Beomgyu takes it in another direction, the direction where his dick is doing all the talking. 

“Aw, are you jealous, baby?” He goads, getting all up in your face. “You miss kissing me?”

“Jealous?” You laugh forcefully, the jealousy indeed burning through you and firing you up. “Yeah right, I can have you begging for me any time I want to.”

“Oh, please." He scoffs, his denial irritating you. 

"It's not like I haven't done it before. All I have to do is give your cock a couple of pumps and you'd be whining like a bitch."

His breathing hitches for a second before he counters back. "I was just humoring you. It didn’t even feel that good."

Oh, hell no. The only thing you managed to have with Beomgyu is getting him to need your touch the same way you need his love, and you'll be damned if you let anyone take that from you, even Beomgyu. 

You curse him out under your breath as you charge forward and push him against the wall, crashing your lips together. 

And for someone who just basically claimed to not want you, he sure as hell is eager to reciprocate… damn it, this was bait, wasn't it? That whore. 

Oh, well, now that you started, you can't get yourself to stop now. You've fucking missed the feeling of him pressed needily against you and the all the little noises he makes when he's turned on. You need to have him again. You need him to admit he's addicted to your touch. You need to hear him beg. 

And it doesn't look like it's gonna be hard when the first thing out of his mouth as soon as you part is, "Touch me." 

“You’re so fucking needy.” You mutter, hand trailing up his thigh slowly, intentionally teasing him. “I thought your girlfriend lets you fuck her everyday.”

“She’s not my girlfriend.” He says, shocking you, and against reason, that makes you happy. “We just mess around.” 

"Sad." You say with faux sympathy, finally grabbing his cock, making his breathing waver. "What about you? Is he your boyfriend?"

Maybe you shouldn’t be having his discussion with your hand cupping his dick. You don’t know if you should tell him the truth, but he did so you should too, right?

"He's not my boyfriend. We just mess around." 

“What… what do you do with him?” He asks slowly, “Do you let him touch you?” 

“Yes.” You admit, watching his reaction closely. You know he’s asking it because you never let him touch you, and if you wanna annoy him, you’d tell him the truth. Which you do. "I let him touch me. I let him eat me out too." 

His face changes just like you hoped it would. "Slut.".

You laugh, hooking your finger into the chain link on the collar he’s wearing and tugging on it a little. "I'm the slut? Not you who is practically begging for me to touch your cock when you’re already getting off with another woman?"

"Whatever. I don’t want whatever STDs you caught from Yeonjun anyway." He tries to walk away but you shove him back against the wall, your body pressed tightly against his. "Really? You don’t want this?"

"No.” He tenses, but his body betrays him, leaning into you. 

“Oh, really? So you don’t want me to pull your pants down and jerk you off just the way you like?” You pull tighter on his collar while feeling the exact imprint of his hardening cock through his pants. 

“No.” He gulps, uncertainty clear in the way his voice wavers. 

“Hmm, and if I were to offer to take you into my mouth, you would say no to that?” You brush your lips against his as your thumb swipes across the head of his cock. “You’d say no to my hot, wet mouth around your needy, pathetic cock?” 

“Shit.” He shudders, his breathing getting ragged and his eyes getting hazy–tell-tale signs that he’s a goner. 

“What is it, baby? Want me to let go?” You feel wetness gather under your thumb, soaking through his pants. Is he not wearing any underwear? Fuck.

“No, fuck. Want it. Want your mouth.” He finally admits, his eyes fixed on your mouth. 

“Okay.” You swipe your tongue over your lips, teasing him. "But first, admit you're the slut."

He blinks, a moment of clarity shining in his eyes. "No."

“No?” You laugh, bringing your hand to your face and licking it before you slide it under his pants, taking a hold of his cock and giving it a firm stroke, feeling his knees buckle for a second. 

“You don’t want my pretty mouth wrapped around your dick?” Your face is so close to his, lips brushing against his every once in a while but every time he tries to close the gap and kiss you, you pull him back by the collar away. “No. Bad dog. If you want it, you have to play nice.” 

“Shit…Okay. You win. I want it.” He confesses, but you don’t give in as easily as he does. “Say it. Tell me what you are.” 

“I’m a slut.” He whimpers and you smile, squeezing his cock as a reward. “That’s right, Beommie. You’re a slut who goes all dumb over the promise of a warm mouth. Isn’t that right?” 

“Yes. Please. I really want it.” He begs, hips timidly thrusting forward. “I need it. I need you.” 

Okay, it doesn’t matter what went on before this. Just hearing him say those three words, that he needs you, is enough for you to get on your knees. “See? I told you I’d get you to beg.” 

But Beomgyu doesn’t care, only focusing on one thing which is you pulling his pants down,  letting his cock spring up before grabbing it in your hands and bending forward to give it a few licks–getting it wet just like Yeonjun showed you. 

But it’s not hard to get Beomgyu wet when he’s already dripping precum for you. Fuck, even his body is slutty.  

“There you go. Now that wasn’t so hard.” You tease, brushing your lips back and forth over the head of his cock. 

"Please, put it in your mouth." He chokes, bucking up into your hand. “I want it! I really want it. Please!” 

You open your mouth, only taking the tip, not just to tease him but get yourself ready for more. But the virgin doesn’t have the self-restraint of Yeonjun, and his hips shoot forward, gagging you on his cock. 

You immediately pull back, glaring up at him. “Do you want me to stop? Do you want to go back to your room and fuck your cum into my panties like you’ve been doing before?” 

His eyes widen and he shakes his head vigorously. “No. No. I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to.”

“Keep your hips still or I’ll stop.” You hiss, and he nods pitifully. “Yes, baby.” 

There he goes again, calling you baby as if you were his lover. Though you guess he calls Haeun the same and she’s not his lover either. 

You take him in your mouth again, this time daring to take more of him, knowing whatever you do, he’ll like it anyway. And he does. You can see his nails scraping against the wall behind him as he struggles to keep his body still. “Oh, thank you. Fuck, thank you.” 

He’s such a loser. You love it so much. 

Spurred on by his pathetic display, you make yourself go further and further down his cock, your tongue swiping back and forth on the sensitive underside, getting him so worked up. And he doesn’t even try to hide it. 

"Fuck, so good. You’re so perfect.” He gushes, staring at you taking his cock. “You look so pretty with my dick in your mouth."

"Do I?" You pull back to answer before taking him in your mouth but this time, you don’t move, just letting the weight of him rest on your tongue.

"Fuck, don't do this to me. Please move." He whimpers, but doesn’t dare to move you. You keep still, but swallow around him, making his thighs go rigid with the effort to not thrust forward and fuck your face. “Fuck…fuck… you’re gonna kill me.” 

You smile, humming around him happily, making him go delirious. “God, I wanna take a picture of you like that." 

“Pervert.” You glare at him, finally pulling back. "Does she let you do that?"

He shrugs, making you more angry. What the hell does that mean? Is that a yes or a no? Is his phone just full of pictures of Haeun with his dick in her mouth?

“Is that what she does?” You prod, grabbing his cock a little too tightly, punishingly. "Or is she too good to suck your dick?"

"Yeah, she does.” He scoffs, puffing his chest out. “She always sucks me off after the shows." 

Is that where they disappear to? Why did you even ask? Why do you have to hurt yourself this way?

"And I guess she didn't get the chance to today." You mutter, hoping he doesn’t hear the bitterness in your voice. 

"Uh-huh. Doesn't matter. I wanted to try your mouth anyway." He confirms, so casually crushing you while making you feel like nothing but a fucktoy in the same breath.

"Fucking whore." You scowl, pulling back and watching him bucking in the air, seeking the warmth of your mouth again. Are you just a mouth for him? A pair of warm hands? The girl who’ll get him off even if he treats her like a toy? 

"I know I'm a whore but please. I need it." 

There it is again. 

You know you should just get up and leave him all high and dry, but you can’t. Not when he looks at you like that, long hair all tousled and lips inexplicably bitten raw despite the fact that he has made no effort to hide his noises so far, moaning and gasping and whimpering so loud you’re sure the neighbors think he’s a camboy or something. 

“Yeah? You need me?” You prompt and he nods harshly. “Yes, need you so bad. You don’t even know.”

You suppose you can’t blame him for treating you like a toy when just a little cry and whine is enough to get you to give in to him. 

"Are you going to be a good boy?" You taunt as if you had any real power over him. Still, Beomgyu reacts as if you do, nodding again. "I'll be good, I swear." 

“Lift your shirt up.” You order, and he obeys, pulling his mesh shirt up. 

God, he’s becoming as much of a flirt as Yeonjun, wearing these revealing outfits on stage and teasing the fans with winks and lip bites. You’re sure he’s collecting his own groupies now too, and soon it won’t just be Haeun you’re competing with. 

Suddenly, you’re filled with the urge to punish him. 

“Higher.” You tell him, instructing him to lift his shirt up until his pretty nipples are in view before reaching out to play with them. “Good boy.” 

The effect on Beomgyu is instant, his hips shooting forward, his cock seeking some relief which you don’t give him for a while, choosing instead to watch him squirm as you thumb and pull at his nipples until they turn puffy and red. 

“Fuck, please…” He cries, cock weeping in need. 

“You’re so sensitive, Beommie.” You lick up some of the precum dribbling down his cock, just light touches that drive him even more insane, teasing him until he’s almost crying. 

You know you shouldn't compare. Yeonjun has a lot of experience while Beomgyu is a horny virgin but you thrive off how enthusiastic and needy he gets whenever you touch him, like he would die if you stop. 

“Please, please, please…” He keeps repeating, holding his shirt up to expose himself to you like a slut as he pleads with you to put your mouth on him and end his suffering. “I need you. Please.” 

You finally wrap your lips around him once he says the magic words, bopping your head up and down his length, relishing in the taste and feeling of him on your tongue so much that you don’t notice at first that he’s trying to get away after only a few bops of your head.

“Stop. Stop!” He squeals, his hands flying to grab at your hair, finally catching your attention. 

“What is it?” You ask, worried. Did you do something wrong?

“Was gonna cum.” He gasps as if that explained anything. 

“So? You can cum in my mouth.” You offer, thinking maybe he wanted to give you a warning. But of course that’s not what the horny bastard is worried about. 

“Oh.” His cock twitches, and you swear he almost came right there. “But… I don’t wanna cum yet. Don’t want it to stop.” 

Immediately, you pull back, grabbing his wrists and pinning them to the wall. “You don’t get to ask for things. You just stand there and keep your hands to yourself and take whatever I give you. Understood?” You hiss, and he tries to argue, “But baby–”  

You ignore him, grabbing his cock and jerking him off. “Shut up, Beomgyu. I don’t want to hear anything from you except those slutty moans you love to make.”

Even that turns him on, and he squirms under you.  “No. No, please, too fast. Don't want it to stop." He cries deliriously and you laugh evilly. 

“Don’t you wanna cum in my mouth, baby? I’ll open wide.” You smirk before letting your mouth fall open and sticking your tongue out, mimicking what you know is one of his favorite parts of porn videos as you had seen on his non-so-secret nsfw twitter account all too often. 

And just as expected, the pervert loses it with a loud broken cry, spurting his cum all over your tongue and parts of your face. 

You pull your tongue back with a grin, and he watches in rapt attention, waiting for you to swallow it just the way he likes. But you don’t. Instead you spit it back on his cock, grabbing the sensitive member in your hand and jerking it off quickly and cruelly. 

"What are you doing?" He panics, writhing harder in your hold. 

"You said you wanted more." You act innocent, but your hands are all but, twisting around him just like you learned from Yeonjun.

“Not this!” He squeaks, trying to pull away. "Hurts!"

“Suck it up. You said you’ll be a good boy. Are you going to disappoint me?” 

You didn’t expect that to work but it did. He bites down on his lip, swallowing down most of his pained cries, his hands pulling so hard on his shirt, it tears, but he doesn’t once try to push you away. 

He takes it so well, you actually start feeling bad for him and rethinking your punishment. But when you try to pull away, he lets out a loud sob. “No. Please! Need it. Need it, baby."

“But I thought you wanted me to stop?” You ask, confused, and he shakes his head, sparkling tears falling off his eyelashes. 

“Is it feeling good again? You coo, massaging his tense thigh with your free hand. 

“Uh-huh. So good.” His mouth was almost permanently hung open now, a little bit of drool dribbling out. “You’re so pretty.” 

Even though he’s all dumbed out and you’re sure he doesn’t even know what he’s saying right now, it still makes your heart flutter. He thinks you’re pretty. 

But then an ugly thought comes into your mind. Is he like this with her? Is he just as loud and desperate? Will he just say anything to get what he wants? You haven’t heard him be like this the tortuous couple of times you have had to endure listening to them, but maybe he is the one in charge when he’s with her. Maybe he has her to fuck and has you to fuck him, so he’d be getting the best of both worlds. You wouldn’t put it past him. Maybe that’s why he keeps pushing for more from you even when he has her. 

“I’m–I’m there, b-baby.” He stutters out, his hips moving a bit, but you don’t punish him for it because you don’t think he’s even aware of it. Besides, you don’t feel up for this anymore. 

“Cum for me, Beommie.” You order, taking him in your mouth, and it doesn’t take long for the wet heat of it to have him cumming again. You take it in your mouth like last time, not swallowing it. 

Instead, you get up, grabbing him by the jaw and kissing him, forcing him to take his own cum. But Beomgyu doesn’t even flinch, kissing you back hungrily, letting you push your tongue into his mouth as he sucks on it needily. 

When you finally pull back, you see the mess you’ve made of him–panting heavily, his lips swollen and red, coated with your saliva and his own cum, some of it smeared along his chin. 

But he doesn’t care, smiling at you.  “Fuck, that was hot.” 

You frown at that. You don’t know what you expected him to say. That you sucked him off so good, he now realizes you’re the one for him? That he’ll ditch Haeun and be with you only? You’re a disaster. 

“Get cleaned up and go to bed.” You tell him, heading towards the kitchen, suddenly in desperate need for some water to clear your mouth. God, what are you even doing? 

But Beomgyu isn’t done with you, and he follows after you, wrapping his arms around you and kissing your neck. “Beomgyu…” You warn. You can’t deal with this right now. You’re too fragile. 

“Please…” He begs sweetly, knowing the way to your heart. His hands slither up your waist to cup your breasts, his fingers ghosting over your nipples causing a burning white sensation to shoot down between your legs. 

“Just let me take care of you for once.” He pleads, pulling lightly on your nipples between his thumbs and index fingers, fanning the fire brewing in your belly. 

You can let him just one time right? You’d be getting yourself off in bed dreaming of his touch anyway so why can’t you let him help you rub one out just this once? That way you can head straight to sleep and let your tired bones rest so you wouldn’t have to think about what you just did, so you’d get one night’s relief from the crushing feeling of your unreciprocated love.  

“You can’t take my clothes off.” You finally relent. Yes, you’re out of your mind but you’re still deeply insecure and worried what he’ll think. 

“Just the shirt.” He growls, pulling on it. “Want it off.” 

You’re confused for a second by his aggression before you realize you’re wearing Yeonjun’s merch. 

“No. The shirt stays on.” You insist, partly due to your insecurity and partly to annoy him.

He’s not happy about it. You can tell by the way he bites down on the junction between your neck and your shoulder, but honestly that just turns you on more. 

One of his hands leaves your breasts to go down your body, shimmying under your waistband to reach your pussy.

“Fuck…” He sucks in a sharp breath when he feels how wet you are. He immediately starts rubbing your pussy, not attempting to tease at all. “You’re so wet.”

You freeze. Is that good? Is it bad? Does he think you’re too wet? 

“So sexy. Driving me crazy.” He groans, sucking on your sensitive neck and rolling your nipple between his fingers, dispelling your ridiculous doubts. You spread your legs a little, giving his fingers easier access to your pussy, and his long fingers rub along the entire length of your slit, not leaving one part untouched, overwhelming your poor body, all while his mouth never ceases to kiss and such along your neck. “Yes, baby, just like that, spread those legs for me. Let me make your pussy feel good.” 

Fuck, he’s so lewd, it’s so sexy. You don’t even care that he’s probably leaving so many hickies along your neck that in the morning you’ll look like you’ve been ravaged by a wild animal. All you care about right now is his relentless attack on your body. 

His words and touches have made your brain go fuzzy that you let him unbutton your pants, shoving them down your thighs so he can squeeze two fingers inside you at once. 

“Oh god, you’re so tight. So soft. You’re perfect.” He moans as if he’s the one getting pleasure. You don’t know who is more desperate here, you or him. His words feel almost as pleasurable as his hands. You've never imagined Beomgyu saying this to you. You were always so insecure of what he'll think. You were worried about him even touching you. If you knew this is how he would react, maybe you would’ve let him do it sooner. 

Or maybe not. You don’t know what this will do to your heart once your pussy gets its fill. But it’s hard to think about that when he’s panting against your neck. “Fuck, fuck… You like it, baby? Am I making you feel good?”

“Yes, Beommie. You’re such…such a good boy.” You praise, and he keens, one of his hands returning to your breasts. "Can I see your tits? Wanna see your pretty tits." 

Fuck it, you’ll give him what he wants at this point. You just really need him to make you cum. 

“Okay…” You relent, and as soon as the word is out of your mouth, he’s pulling the shirt up over your breasts to expose them. 

“So pretty.” He whines, wetting his fingers before returning them back to your nipple, rubbing the poor sensitive thing until you can’t hold your own body weight anymore. You lean against him, the wet sound of his fingers fucking your pussy open reaching your ears, but you feel too good to let the embarrassment or security in right now. 

“God, I wanna fuck these.” Beomgyu grunts, pulling at your other nipple, his hips grinding against your ass as if he’s imagining doing just that. “Can I, baby?” 

"No. Be good." You warn. You’ll go crazy if he stops. “I’m close. Don’t ruin it now.” 

“I won’t. I promise, I won’t.” He lets go of your abused nipples and grabs you by the hair, turning your head towards him so he can kiss you. “Need you to cum on my fingers, baby. I need it more than anything. Please. Will you cum for me?” 

“Y-yeah… I’ll cum for you..” You say as if you had any choice in the matter, as if your body would’ve let you retain any dignity. 

You break down on his fingers, clenching around them as the orgasm shoots through you in little pants and needy mewls which Beomgyu hungrily devours with his mouth. 

“You’re so hot.” He heaves against your lips, kissing you again and again long after your orgasm is over. 

“Beomgyu–” You start to say, the brain fog clearing up. 

“I need more.” He moans, the words jolting through your brain as it’s waking up. 

What? 

You feel his hands messing around with your pants, trying to take them off your body completely, and when he drops to the floor to pull them off your leg, you quickly stop him. 

“What are you doing?” You exclaim, grabbing onto your pants and trying to pull them back up. But Beomgyu holds onto them tightly.  

“Please, want to taste you.” He begs, clearly still in the throes of lust. 

“No.” You hiss, and he whines. “Why not? I’ve become really good at it. Had lots of practice.” 

God, you feel sick. 

“No!” You push him away and he falls on his ass. 

“What? So he can eat you out and I can’t? You can suck me off but I can’t taste you?” He asks angrily and you roll your eyes. “Yes. That’s exactly it."

As if his horny brain could ever understand how all of this makes you feel. All he cares about is that Yeonjun got something and he didn’t, like you’re a piece of candy Yeonjun swiped from him. 

“You’re such a fucking hypocrite.” He huffs, getting up. “Why won’t you let me taste you?” 

“I don’t need to let you do anything.” You shout at him, putting your pants back on, hoping that would lessen the humiliation coursing through your veins. “I don’t owe you anything and you need to get that through your fucking head. But it’s my mistake because I keep letting this happen. This has got to stop.” 

"Why? I like it and you like it too." He looks at you for confirmation and you look away, but Beomgyu is not deterred, grabbing you by the shoulders. "Come on, I know you feel it too. It's different when we're together. I know it is for me. It doesn't feel like that with Haeun. Does it feel like this with Yeonjun?"

“What feels different?” You confront him, daring to ask the forbidden question. “What is this?”

He frowns, stumbling back and taking his hands off you as if you’d burned him. “Sex?” 

Right. Typical guy behavior when faced with the remotest possibility of intimacy. 

You laugh sadly. “Beomgyu, are you with Haeun or not?” You have to know. You have to know what he’s even doing. Are both you and Haeun just a way for him to get his dick wet? 

"Do you not want me to be?” He answers your question with another question, catching you off guard. 

“N-no–you can do whatever you want. Why would I care?” You immediately deny, fear and anxiety gripping your heart. You can’t let him know how you feel, especially not after he just basically confirmed he’s just here for the sex. 

He’s silent for a few moments, just staring at you as if he can see through your lies. God, please no. You can’t handle the shame of it. 

But he just shrugs. “Well, if you don’t care then what’s the problem, right? Me and Haeun aren’t exclusive so you and I can keep doing this.”  

His words make you feel disgusted. That’s all he thinks of this, that’s all he thinks of you–just some fun to be had so he can get his rocks off 

“I don’t think so.” You finally say and he frowns. “Why not? I thought you said Yeonjun isn’t your boyfriend.” 

"He’s not.” 

He smiles widely, moving to grab you again but you stop him. "But I want him to be. I want to try it seriously with him." 

“Why? What do you even like about him?” He asks, irritated. 

“He’s sweet–” Beomgyu rolls his eyes, preparing to protest but you keep going, not giving him a chance. “He cares about me. He’s charming. He’s talented. He’s funny.” 

“So? I’m all of those things.” 

Yes, you are. And much more. But you don’t love me the way I love you. 

“So I want a boyfriend, Beomgyu, not a fuckbuddy.” 

“Right.” He scoffs, “Good luck getting that from Yeonjun.” 

With that, he turns around and leaves you feeling sick in your own skin. 

___________________

A/N: feedback gives me the motivation and energy to write more so if you want the next chapter as quickly as possible, drop in a message or a comment telling me what you think 😘

As some of you know, this might've been the last gyu smut scene, but if I were to include another one, would you rather it be sub!gyu or dom!gyu?

i can't include another poll so i'll skip the "who do you want oc to end up with" this time, but you can let me know anyway

taglist: @sanasour @tinkw1nks @lol6sposts @zuzuhasablog @beomsl @seolis-world @stantxtorurmissingout @wonwooz1@yaorzu-blog@allylikesdabee@rkivezzs@malieno @leviathanlee26 @yomomas-stuff @kurisaiyunobara @girlwholovekpop @zuzuhasablog @viaaasdiary @ho3forkpop @skzvcr @th3-3d3n-g4rd3n @izzyexe @boomfrogg @kpop-cakepops-recs @chronicallygyu @girlwholovekpop

[prismuffin]

so for my bday ficcc i have two ideas

idea number one: male reader is based on my demon oc. basically personality wise they very sassy and flirty. kinda a bitch ass ho. idc who u pair it with imma be real. it could be ghost, soap or or price. or like batman. he summons them n junk

idea number 2:

polycule ghost, soap x male reader. male reader is a smart dumbass. like they’re an airhead all of the time minus work. they’re a colonel but honestly dumb as shit outside of work. obvious as hell.

if u want more ideas i can tell u love u mwahhhhh

A/n: Hey Webbie!! Happy birthday!! (Or late birthday depending on when I get this out) decided to go with option 2 kay? also i didnt know how to end this- fight me-

Idiot Boyfriend

Poly!GhostSoap x airhead!male!reader

( summary: Ghost reflects on how he fell in love with two dumbasses )

Warnings?: swearing, mentions of alcohol, talks of guns and violence, reader being a dumbass

!-!more under the cut!-!

Ghost sighed as he watched you chase Gaz around base. He'd apparently tickled you which you saw as a threat, immediately taking off to get your revenge. Hearing a laugh beside him Ghost turned, seeing an amused Soap who was also watching your silly antics. "Go get 'em sweetheart!" He cheered you on and Ghost groaned. "Don't encourage 'em Johnny," "Why not? This is a funny sight," He smirked, sitting next to Ghost, his head instinctually falling onto the taller mans shoulder. Ghost rolled his eyes as he watched you trip, Gaz stopping to laugh at you. "Oh damn, think he's alright Lt?" Soap asked only to get silence as a response. "Lt?" Ghost had heard him, though he was too busy wondering why he was even with such an airhead anyway. He'd already been dating one headache why did he feel the need to worsen his pain with another.

When he'd first met you he was already with Soap, their relationship being monogamous at the time. Though that was more of a suggestion than set in stone. Maybe it was the fact that the first time he'd met you- you were choking some guy out with the power of your thighs alone that'd intrigued him. Either way you'd easily clicked with Soap after meeting him, and after exchanging war stories and silly jokes with the two men all day they both knew at the end of it that they liked you. Initially, it wasn't going to go anywhere but Soap was the one who suggested adding you to their little relationship. Ghost was hesitant at first, not because he didn't like you but because he wasn't sure if you liked him. You'd obviously liked Soap, romantically or not you both clicked immediately, but for some reason for Ghost it was so hard to read you on your feelings for him. Sure you were polite out of respect but could it ever go deeper than that? He knows sometimes his dark humor can fall flat and his stoic tone doesn't help either. Soap had reassured him that he had a charm that couldn't be beat, but of course he'd say that. You and him clicked so easily, you both told terrible jokes and fucked around when you shouldn't. You both had a mutual love for explosives and beer and karaoke and had this natural bond he could only wish for with you. After talking about it they sort of dropped it for a few weeks but it was clear that Soap had liked you and he could understand why. Especially after what he considers the true turning point for him. It was a pretty normal night on base, everyone asleep in their barracks, everyone except Ghost. He often had nights like these where sleep was the last thing on his mind, memories plaguing his brain as he fought desperately to think of anything else. He would wake up Johnny, tell him about the bad thoughts, but he really needed the sleep after the last mission they'd been on. So he thought to deal with it alone, going into the kitchen to hopefully find a stashed bottle whisky to drown his sorrows for the night. Only upon entering he found you, leaning against the counter, pouring yourself a freshly brewed pot of coffee. You both locked eyes, a mutual understanding flooding you both as you held out the warm pot, asking silently if he'd join you. He, of course, was hesitant but had nothing better to do. So he grabbed a mug from the cabinet and watched as you poured his coffee, black.

You'd both sat in silence for some time before you asked quietly why he was up. He told the truth, nightmares, but didn't go into much detail understandably. You hummed, replying with the same answer when he'd asked you a similar question. Your jokey manner was all but lost in this moment, at least for a second. You'd asked him to talk about his nightmares with you, saying that it'd be better than him just holding everything in all the time. He didn't expect it, but you were so easy to talk to. Just the smallest amount of convincing and he did what you asked. That night you both shared the stories of your nightmares with each other. You comforted him, gave him advice and told him things he definitely needed to hear. Him ranting only got the ball rolling as he found himself sitting on the common room couch with you simply talking about anything and everything, your company in the now silent base was warming. You'd even laughed at his horrid jokes, throwing back a few that he's now added to his growing roster of dark humor. He hadn't felt like this since...well...Johnny. As the sun rose and light cracked through the curtains he couldn't help but feel a little glad that he'd gotten to spend time with you. That night alone showed him he did have a natural connection with you. You understood him in ways he didn't even think you could. He found you also shared his insomnia episodes, his love for dogs and specific guns, his respect of stealth and going at it alone on missions. When he saw Soap later that day he nonchalantly added that he's now considering asking you to join their relationship, and he couldn't help but replicate the smile on Soaps face.

One which he held now.

"Lt?" Soap glanced up at Ghost, noticing the slight crinkle in his eye and the small indent underneath his cloth balaclava. To anyone else he'd look completely normal right now, but Soap knew that those miniscule signs meant that he was smiling. Smiling at you as you groaned on the floor. Closing his eyes, Ghosts shoulders bounced in a silent laugh before he moved to stand, Soap following him with his eyes before realizing where he was going, and moving to go to you too.

Rolling on your back, you huffed, the cold floor on your rear as you stared up at the blinding white flood lights that shone down on you. Only they were blocked by a shadow, then two, the smiling faces of your boyfriends stood over you. "Need a hand sweetheart?" Soaps Scottish accent filled your ears and you couldn't help the small smile that found it's way to your face. Reaching out with both hands you grabbed onto one of each of theirs, laughing as they hoisted you up with ease. You felt Ghost pat your back before his arm wrapped itself around you. Looking at him you noticed the small smile beneath his mask and reciprocated his action, now committing to a full side hug. You just held each other there before Soap joined in, now you held both of your boyfriends in your arms. You rocked back and forth between them, your chase with Gaz momentarily forgotten as you accepted this newer task of being held. Only momentarily though as Gaz came back into view you suddenly remembered what you were doing before this, your glare being set on his form. "Garrick!" You yelled and he ran again, you moved to chase him but the hands of ghost didn't seem to want to let you go. "No you don't, come on, we're leaving." "Awww but Simon come on-" you groaned, "I'm starving." He stated bluntly, practically dragging you away from the scene as Soap laughed at your pouting face, following the two of you to the kitchen. Ghost simply listened as you began ranting about some random show that you and Soap had been watching, allowing you to completely forget about the Gaz thing as you got distracted by your own thoughts again. He watched as you and Soap recounted a particular episode that seemingly got on your nerves as it ended on a cliff hanger, silently smiling once again as he relished in the company of his two idiot boyfriends.

----!----

( HAPPY BIRTHDAY WEB I HOPE YOU LIKE YOU BIRTHDAY FIC SEXY !!! )

Thanks for reading! Have a great day/night!!

My requests are CLOSED !!

See my DIRECTORY for upcoming fics!

Masterlist

[patrophthia]

red ears, and redder strings | theodore n.

pairing: theodore nott x hufflepuff!reader

genre: red string soulmate!au, fluff, slight humor, slight very slight angst, confused feelings, unrequited love but also not really?, not beta read

wc: 7.2k

this is a request ! thank you anon!! it’s so cute i loved writing this :>

there’s two OC, one of them is named mark, hufflepuff (based off of nct mark, i love that lil canadian guy) and elio. i also wrote theodore based off of nct’s jaehyun and sungchan hehe.

taglist: @mersmoon @pleasingregulus @l--absinthe

"I'm going to need a favour from you," I say first, his eye brows rising slightly at my words. "I need you to keep us being soulmates a secret."

"It's not you, I promise," I added quickly. "I'm sure you're a great guy, you're very handsome too but I'm just— I can't just let faith decide on who I'm going to spend the rest of my life with. It's like I don't have a choice with what goes on in my life; and I can't ... have that."

"So I'm begging you, please," I plead. "Please, don't tell anyone about what we are."

"I can pay you." I offered. And If Nott wasn't so caught off guards by how I was able to say the exact things he had planned to say 30 minutes before, he would've laugh at the prospect of being paid when he already had a fortune in his hands. "I don't have much but I could also do your work for the year, just don't," I pause, "tell anyone until I'm ready, please."

Theodore won't admit it but he feels impress. Because deep down, the Slytherin in him would've never been able to beg for something the way I'd just beg of him. And if he wasn't so taken aback by how I basically read his mind, he would've said something more coherent than: "Okay."

"Okay." I repeated his words, nodding. And even though he didn't audibly give me a reason to trust him on it, I knew that he meant it.

A part of me thinks that that must've been why we were soulmates because why else would I so blindly trust him on this secret of ours.

Tug. Tug. Tug. Blaise has been tugging at Theodore's pinky for the last five minutes now. Doing it over and over just to get a rise out of the brunet. But Theodore, quite honestly, couldn't care less as he watched the string tied around his pinky finger bounce with each pull of Zabini's hand.

Blaise, like the menace he is, enjoys bothering his best friend by pulling at the red string of his, but seeing as he couldn't actually see the string, the Slytherin has settled with just laying on Theodore's bed and repeatedly pulling at his pinky which sported the string instead.

"Honestly Nott, why are you so against finding your soulmate? We both know they're in this school so why won't you just make the effort to find them?" Blaise asks, pulling at his pale pinky once more. "Here I am, balls deep into finding mine and I find out that they're all the way in Durmstrang. Do you realise just how lucky you are?"

"Zabini stop," their other dorm mate, Elio, tsked. "Maybe he's just not ready to find them yet."

Blaise turns from his position on Theodore's bed to look at Elio. Retorting, "or maybe he just doesn't want to find them?"

"And that's okay," Elio replied with a roll of his eyes. "I'm sure he has a reason."

Blaise's attention shifts back to Theodore. "And that is?"

Theodore clears his throat, "I just don't want one."

Blaise squints his eyes, "uh huh," he lets out in disbelief. "Somehow I don't believe that."

"Okay," he murmurs, "I just don't like the concept of soulmates."

"And that's all to it?" Elio asks, fixing his tie as he listens into Theodore and Blaise's conversation.

"Yes." And when neither Blaise nor Elio seemed to believe him, he added. "And I'm tired of people pretending to be my soulmate despite the fact that I could clearly see they aren't."

"People have done that?" Elio asked, perplexed at the complex.

"For the right price people would do anything." Theodore mumbled, and when he noticed that Elio was heading out the door, he asked. "Where are you going?"

"I'm meeting Mark at the library," Elio says with a blissful smile. "I'll see you at dinner."

When Elio finally leaves, Blaise turns to Theodore with a dumbfounded look. "Mark?"

Theodore feels his pinky being pulled once more. "His soulmate."

On the other side of the castle, Mark watches as I throw my head on the table —albeit, dramatically, a groan slipping from my lips. Mark giggles, his nose scrunching along with it as he asks me what was wrong.

I lift my left hand up and into his line of sight, his giggles turning into a full blown laugh as my pinky pulls itself over and over in the same direction. "They're doing it again?"

"They're doing it again," I mumbled, lifting my head back up to look at my finger. "It's so annoying. I'm going to punch their face in the second I see them."

"That's a bit extreme," Mark says lightly. "Just tell them to stop doing it or something."

"Why do that when I can result to violence." I replied, tugging at the string as a sign for them to stop. "They do it all the time, it's so irritating."

"Well at least you know they're close by," Mark states, going back to his book. "Or else you wouldn't be able to even feel their pulls."

"Yeah." I nodded. "I guess that's something."

"What?" Mark asks, sensing a slight shift in the atmosphere. "Do you not want to find them?"

I shrug, "not really."

"Why not?" Mark follows up, abandoning his work completely.

"I just think that I shouldn't let the universe decide on who I spend the rest of my life with, is all," I say. "I want to make that decision myself."

Mark nods, humming, "I see where you're coming from." Understanding as ever. "But I also think it's nice that there's someone out there who will always be by your side no matter what, whether it be platonic or romantic, you know?"

"But that's not guaranteed, is it?" I counter. "I've heard stories where people found their soulmates but they didn't care for one another at all. I mean, at the end of the day, soulmates can't actually be soulmates if one doesn't reciprocate the other's feelings. So why try finding them at all if you're going to find out that they want nothing to do with you?"

"But what if they do," Mark argued.

"But what if they don't."

Mark sighs, "and if they do?"

"And if they don't—"

"Hi." I was cut off. "Shit! I'm sorry, I didn't mean to interrupt you," says Elio, eyes wide and apologetic. "What were you guys talking about?"

"Soulmates actually," Mark says with a smile, his pupils dilating at the sight of Elio. "Why are you here?"

Mark and Elio found out that they were each other's soulmate on the train ride over. Elio couldn't find his friend's carriage on the Hogswart Express and we were lucky enough to have empty space for the Slytherin.

"I wanted to see if you wanted to have dinner with me," Elio says. "And I also wanted you to meet my friends."

Who were, if I remembered correctly, Draco Malfoy, Blaise Zabini, and Theodore Nott.

"Oh," Mark glances at me, then back at Elio. "This afternoon?"

"Yeah," Elio nodded. And I sense that he wanted to add 'when else' but held back against it. "At the Slytherin table, Is that okay?"

"Sure," Mark says, nodding quickly. "I'll see you."

Elio breaks into a smile, bidding a goodbye as he turns on his heels. "You're coming with me," Mark says the second Elio was far enough to not overhear us. "No arguments."

Two Hufflepuffs sitting idly chatting with four well known Slytherins must've been a weird sight for anyone that passes by. But Mark was having a fun time and that's all that matters.

Or to me at least. Mark sat to my left, with Elio sitting opposite him. Zabini was on my right, with Malfoy in front of him; leaving Nott right in front of me.

"Are you taking potions?" Zabini asks, trying to make conversation, seeing as Mark and Elio were the only people in this table who actually knew one another.

"Yep," I replied, placing my utensils down. "Are you?"

"The four of us are," Malfoy snickered. "At least there's two more tolerable people in that class with us."

Glad to know Malfoy found Mark and I tolerable. "So . . ." I drew out, thinking of anything we could chat about. "What did you guys do this summer?"

"Blaise dragged us to Europe to find his soulmate," Malfoy answered bitterly.

"Oh." The better part of me was intrigued, wanting to know if he did find them. I turned to Zabini beside me. "Did you find them?"

"No," he says, a slightly disappointed look on his face. "Too many students at Durmstrang and too little time."

"Well there's always next year," I say, trying to encourage him.

Zabini hums in agreement. "What about you? Have you found yours yet?"

Elio called out my name before I could answer his friend, and when I turned to him, he held out a goblet filled with pumpkin juice for me to take. Reaching for the glass, I felt a tug at my pinkie but paid no heed to it as I took the goblet from Elio's hand. Resting it on the table, my eyes caught onto a twinkle of red glowing right in front of me.

With furrowed brows, my line of sight found its way to the seat opposing mine, and along with it, the person who took the spot. Red string wrapped around his left pinkie, just like mine. Glowing slightly under the candle light.

Realisation settles in as I slowly look up at Nott, taking in his blank wide eyed expression that seemed to be processing the same information as I was.

Just to be sure, my hand reaches upwards to rub at my eyes before my vision falls back once more to my left pinkie, then the red string that connects me to the boy right in front of me.

Theodore Nott was my soulmate.

"Can you pass me the salt?" Malfoy asks Nott from his side, causing the brunet to break out of his trance.

Our eyes met for the briefest second, unspoken understanding warming up within me. And when Nott shifts his attention to where the salt currently resides, the tip of his ears shined as red as the string tethering us to one another.

The Marauders map is a great stalker tool to have. I didn't have it per se, but I knew people who did and they were kind enough to lend it to me when I needed it. I owe Harry a favour for this.

My eyes glance between the footsteps on the map tagged: Theodore Nott, and the corridor in front of me. Trying to be as quiet as I could with each corner I turn, if I were to get caught chasing some guy who seemed to be coming my direction at eleven P.M at night then who knows the kind of punishment I would get.

Theodore was walking with purpose when I found him. He walked with enough purpose for me to need to jog after him just to catch up. A hand latches onto his wrist, pulling him into one of the many secret corridors Hogswart held.

"Hi," I said breathlessly, panting as I watched him decide between fighting or flighting. He seemed to have found me harmless, settling on just gazing down at me instead. "Just give me a second to catch my breath."

There were many things he didn't say, just observing as I tried to calm myself down. I noticed a few things then about him, he was tall, lanky even, his doe eyes and hair the direct contrast of his pale skin, and his jawline was sharp enough to cut through wood.

"Uhm—" I stood up to my full height and found that I had to peer up at him. Freakishly tall motherfucker. "—I'm not going to waste your time by beating around the bush, so I'm just going to spill it."

"Actually I needed to have a word with you," he murmurs. And I have to reel myself over because that must've been the first time I heard him speak.

"Well, I found you first so I speak first," I tell him with a tight lip smile. "You can speak after okay? Okay."

His eyes squinted and I could tell that he was frustrated with not being able to get his words in.

"I'm going to need a favour from you," I say first, his eye brows rising slightly at my words. "I need you to keep us being soulmates a secret."

"It's not you, I promise," I added quickly. "I'm sure you're a great guy, you're very handsome too but I'm just— I can't just let fate decide on who I'm going to spend the rest of my life with. It's like I don't have a choice with what goes on in my life; and I can't ... have that."

"So I'm begging you, please," I plead. "Please, don't tell anyone about what we are."

"I can pay you." I offered. And If Nott wasn't so caught off guard by how I was able to say the exact things he had planned to say 30 minutes before, he would've laughed at the prospect of being paid when he already had a fortune in his hands. "I don't have much but I could also do your work for the year, just don't," I pause, "tell anyone until I'm ready, please."

Theodore won't admit it but he feels impressed. Because deep down, the Slytherin in him would've never been able to beg for something the way I'd just beg of him. And if he wasn't so taken aback by how I basically read his mind, he would've said something more coherent than: "Okay."

"Okay." I repeated his words, nodding. And even though he didn't audibly give me a reason to trust him on it, I knew that he meant it.

A part of me thinks that that must've been why we were soulmates because why else would I so blindly trust him on this secret of ours.

Platonic soulmates. That's what Theodore and I decided on. Well not really, Theodore had brought up the idea of cutting our soulmate ties completely with a spell he'd found but the Hufflepuff in me couldn't actually go through with the idea so we decided on platonic soulmates. Or just classmates who are hiding a secret that would blow up in their faces if anyone found out.

Hogsmeade weekend came faster this year; Mark and I (along with four other Slytherins who'd found their way into our friend group) were lucky enough to make the trip.

It hasn't begun snowing yet, although the weather sure felt like it. The temperature was warmer this morning, which was why I found it unnecessary to bring my jacket, and now, in hindsight, I see that that was a terrible idea.

It was getting late, and the weather was not getting warmer at all. "Dude, are you okay?" Mark asks. Dude must sound weird to the other four pure bloods. But dude, to me, was Mark showing that he cared for me. "You've been shivering for the past five minutes."

"I'm fine," I say, a clear lie and we all know it. "I'll just cast a warming spell, don't worry."

Mark's brow furrowed, "are you sure? Here—" he shrugs off his coat, "—just wear mine."

I didn't have to look around to know that the four Slytherin were watching us. And under any other circumstances I would gladly take Mark's jacket, but that was a somewhat intimate thing to do. Especially in front of his soulmate, so, like the civilised person I am, I shook my head and cast a warming spell on myself.

"Dude stop being stubborn, you're literally freezing."

"And I look good doing it so just take your coat, Mark." I argued.

"Okay then." He sighs. "If that's what you want."It's not. Mark pulls his coat back on as he continues walking down the Hogsmeade streets with the rest of us behind him and Elio. "So where should we go next?"

A grasp on my elbow, takes my attention away from Malfoy's answer to Mark's question. I look down, finding slim hands holding onto me. My gaze trails upward to find Theodore who had halted both our steps as he shrugs off his coat.

The brunet nudges it forward, wordlessly offering it for me to take. And when I shook my head, feeling uneasy at the prospect of making him suffer the harsh weather if I did take his jacket. He insists: "It's fine," he says, nudging it forward once more, the red string on his pinkie clear as ever. "I run hot."

"And is cold blooded," Zabini snickered to receive a glare from Nott. I stifled a giggle, finally feeling at ease with the two of them. Zabini's demeanour seems to soften at my half assed attempt to hide a laugh, and tells me to: "Just take it."

Okay. Fine. I will take it. The cold was biting my ass anyways. I reached out for the jacket but was pleasantly surprised when Nott helped me into it instead. "Thank you," I murmured.

Theodore, or at least his coat, smells like a combination of things that I could only assume he likes; things like: the sea, books whether it be old or new, earl grey tea, bearded irises, and vanilla.

Nott only hums at my gratitude, listening back into Mark's conversation with Malfoy.

"You never did tell me whether you found your soulmate yet," Zabini says suddenly. "Have you?"

"No," I answered, and unlike earlier, he actually believes in this lie of mine. "And I'm not really looking for one either."

"Funny," Blaise says with a mischievous smile. "That's what Nott also said." Not exactly, but it was something along that line. "Are you sure you're not each other's soulmate?"

From the corner of my eyes, I spy the tip of Theodore's ears flushing. The pink contrasting his dark features adorably. His face showed no emotion, his brown doe eyes rolling with feign annoyance. "I'm pretty sure I'd know my soulmate if I saw them as often as I see her, Zabini."

"Wish it were that easy," I mumbled, adding onto the illusion of us not being tied to each other.  "I'll let you know when I find out who they are though."

"Really?" He says testingly.

"If you're so invested in it then yes."

He smirks, "let's hope you keep your promise then, princess."

Little did Zabini know, his promise had already been broken.

Faith must've been playing some kind of sick joke. I knew that I'd be taking potions with the four Slytherin, but for me to be studying a love potion on the first day I had class with my 'soulmate' was just plain evil.

And I think, something along the lines of Professor Slughorn making Nott and I be the first to take a gander at the potion, to smell it and to describe what it smelled like to us, was even more cruel.

A glance at Nott, and another at the brewing pot in front of us, had me taking in a deep breath as I prepared myself for what's to come. I took a step forward, Nott to my side, and leaned forward to take a sniff at the potion.

The first round of scents were pleasant, home cooked meals, the smell of my clean room after a tiring day, my favourite snack and the likes of it. Then the second waft of the potion hits and I wondered whether it was what I was actually attracted to or what I was supposed to be attracted to since all I could smell was nothing but Nott.

Or at least the scent of his coat; sea salt, books, vanilla and a hint of his (what I think is) argan oil shampoo, which I assumed I could only smell because he was so close by.

"So?" Professor Slughorn egged us on with a smile. "Tell us what you smell."

Nott and I shared a look and I knew then that we could only smell one another. "The sea," I took the initiative to speak first. "Vanilla."

"Is that all?" Asks the Professor. "Is there a special someone you smell?"

Yes. Is what I didn't say, only shaking my head as I nudged at Nott's side for him to speak next.

"I'm sorry Professor but I couldn't really smell anything." Nott says barely above a whisper.

Professor Slughorn's furrowed his brows in concern. Did Nott not have something he loved? "Nothing at all?"

"Not really," the Slytherin murmurs. "I could only smell her."

Her?

Oh.

Me. I'm her.

Okay.

"Really?" Slughorn murmurs, clearly fascinated. "Well isn't that interesting?"

Nott only hums, moving away from the pot and as I turned with him, my eyes caught onto the pink tinged on his ears. Cute.

I couldn't even take a step towards my desk when Zabini swept me away, Malfoy by his side. Zabini smiles widely at my curious expression, and I wonder for a second if Nott has broken his promise and told them about our secret. Cautiously, I asked him. "What?"

"We need a favour."

"No." Was my first and final answer. Zabini only frowns, not the slightest bit faltering his quest. "I need you to steal Theodore away for a day." He says, instead. I shook my head, repeating myself, "No."

"Oh come on," Blaise pouts, "his birthday's this Sunday and we want to throw him a small surprise party."

"Which won't be a surprise if he was there," Malfoy adds unnecessarily.

"Why can't you be the one to distract him or whatever you're planning on making me do?"

"Because he'll suspect it," Malfoy answers with a roll of his eyes. "Nott's smart, he'll get suspicious of us."

"And he won't get suspicious of me?" I retorted.

"I haven't thought that through actually," Blaise murmurs. "But! We need all hands on deck to plan the party and fill it up with things he likes."

"And I can't help with that?" I ask.

Malfoy rolls his eyes. "What do you know about Nott?"

That he is my soulmate. But besides that, quite literally nothing. Okay. One point to Malfoy and Zabini, I guess. I sigh, slowly accepting my defeat. "What about Mark?"

"Mark's going to help us set up with Elio."

"Why can't you ask for the house elves to set it up for you?"

"Why can't you stop asking us questions?" Malfoy snaps.

I turn to the blond, my expression sour. "Hey you're the one asking me for a favour here, I don't think you can afford to be a bitch to me right now."

Malfoy rolls his eyes again, more attitude than ever. "So you're going to do it?"

"I never said—"

"Great!" Blaise cuts me off. "Have Theo out by ten A.M and have him back by six P.M, okay?" He says excited, and yet not loud enough for Nott, who had been sitting three desks away from our conversation to hear. "Okay! And if you guys do anything, please use protection we're way to young to have kids—"

"Oh fuck off." With a chuckle, Zabini finally leaves me alone, dragging Malfoy with him. With the two Slytherins no longer in sight, my eyes drift towards the only empty desk left and make my way towards it.

One, two, table passes, until I finally reach an empty seat and I find myself meeting eyes with Theodore. His face remains stone cold as ever, only looking at me blankly. He didn't have to say it for me to know that was curious about what his friends had said to me.

Setting my stuff down, I sat beside him and I found myself mustering up the courage to go through with Zabini and Malfoy's favour. "Hey," I start, Nott now giving me his undivided attention. "Do you want to go out this weekend?"

His expression changes for the slightest second that if I hadn't been watching him, I'd have missed it. "I thought we agreed on keeping it platonic."

"Yeah," I agreed quickly. "And that's not going to change anytime soon. Think of this as us bonding as platonic soulmates."

He guessed he owed me that, which was why he stood outside of the Hufflepuff's Common Room idly, waiting for me to come out and get on with our soulmates bonding day.

A smile came across my lips when I spotted him, looking as out of place as possible. "Hi," I said, going up to him. Theodore didn't bother replying, only standing tall as he waited for me to lead the way.

The ride to Hogsmeade was awkward —as to be expected from two people who knew little to nothing about one another. Theodore climbed out of the carriage first, offering a hand to help me off of the ride.

Before we began our journey, Theodore caught onto my wrist with his right hand, his left reaching for his wand and wordlessly, he casted a warming up spell on me.

"Thank you." I'd be lying if I said that it didn't have an effect on me. "So where should we go?"

His lips pursed, thinking. "You didn't plan anything?"

"Not really." This favour was a last minute thing, I didn't have time to actually plan things out. "I thought we could just walk around and look at things."

Theodore wasn't the easiest to read, but I knew from the shift in his features that he was judging me. He then nudges his head to the side. "Let's get you something to eat."

Theodore took me to a bakery by the end of Hogsmeade, the shop was heavily vanilla scented, people coming in and out every second. Nott ordered a vanilla danish, then another when he looked at my face.

I ordered my pastries, and reached into my bag for the sickles I needed. Before I could actually get it out though, Theodore was already pulling me to the side, mumbling a "don't bother" as the next customer made their order.

I frown, handing out the few sickles I owed towards him, he took a glance at my hand, then back to my face. "What did I just say?"

"I can't just let you pay for me."

He didn't say anything, but his expression alone suggests that he won't be taking my money anytime soon.

"Seriously, dude, I can't just let you pay for me."

"Let's go," Theodore deflects, taking a parcel filled with our purchases when the shop's clerk handed it out to us.

I followed after him, not before attempting to shove my money into his pockets and failing to do so when he shifted away from me. "You're being rude."

"Oh I'm being rude?" Theodore scoffs, and I think that that must've been the first time I hear real emotions in his voice. "For paying for you?"

"Yeah," I replied. "Paying for someone is only nice when they want you to pay for them."

"Well," he murmurs. "What's so wrong with me paying for you when you want me to pay for you."

"Don't gaslight me!"

Theodore smiles at my word, a small laugh bubbling out of him. "I'm doing no such things." And then, he adds in a mocking manner, "dude."

What an ass.

I led Theodore towards The Three Broomsticks, if he wasn't going to take my money then I'll just have to get him something in return. I ordered two butterbeers as he began unwrapping our pastries.

He handed mine to me and dug into his vanilla danish. A minute passes, the two of us eating in silence and I wondered if I should've just taken him to a movie instead, maybe then it'd be less awkward.

The butter beer arrives and I took a sip, wiping my lips with the back of my hand right after. "You have a little something—" my finger points towards my upper lips "—there."

He made quick work in wiping it off, eyes casting down as he turned his head to pick up a tissue paper. His red ears made a reappearance then, embarrassed as ever.

After we finished our meals, Theodore excuses himself as he heads towards the bathroom. I think then that this was the perfect opportunity; I called out to one of the shop's clerks and when they approached, I asked for the check.

The shop clerk, an elderly lady, frowns, "what are you talking about, love? Your boyfriend already covered it."

What? "I'm sorry, you must've gotten me mixed up with another table, I haven't paid yet."

"No?" She frowns. "The brunet, pale, about ye height—" the woman gestures over her head "—isn't with you?"

With me, yes. Boyfriend, no. "Did he pay?"

"Yes," she smiles, "just a second ago really."

If I could scream out of frustration I would. I glared at Theodore when he returned, he seemed to know what had happened as he walked with pride.

"You're not as smart as you think you are," he says, grabbing his things. "I knew what you were thinking."

"Well." I stood up, gathering my things as well. "What am I thinking right now?"

"What an ass I am." Smart ass.

"Lucky guest." I murmur.

"Is it now?" He replied testingly, taking my things from my hands.

I squint my eyes, looking at him threateningly. "I will destroy you, Theodore Nott."

"I'd like to see you try." The amount of stuff in his hands made him look ridiculous, walking out of the inn with little to no expression at all when he adds: "soulmate."

I returned Theodore to his friends by six, having snuck into the ladies room to send a patronus to Mark before doing so. Not a minute goes by when his patronus returns, a cheetah opening up its mouth to cheerfully say: "Okay dude, We're ready for you!"

I did what was asked of me and brought him to the room of requirements, Theodore trailed after me, clearly confused but never uttering a word about it.

Once we arrived in front of the door, I turn to meet his eyes. "Why didn't you tell me today was your birthday?"

He blinks. "It wasn't important."

"Your birthday isn't important to you?"

"No." He murmurs. "Why are we here?"

I push the door open, and it takes him a few seconds to realise what had happened. Elio jumps out, Mark by his side screaming as loudly as they could "happy birthday!"

Theodore stares at them for a bit before turning to me, "is that why you spent the day with me?" He asks first. "They put you up to this?"

If I heard disappointment in his tone, I didn't let it get to me. Mustering up a small smile, I push him towards his friends. "Enjoy your party, Theo."

Elio and Blaise swept him away, pulling him towards one of the corners where the snacks were placed. My expression must've been telling, of what exactly, I didn't know. But Mark seems to notice it, asking me in a quiet hush. "Are you okay?"

I nod distractedly. "Yup, why wouldn't I be?"

"I don't know," Mark frowns, "you look a little off."

I smile at him. Mark knows me better than I knew myself. "I'm fine," I reassured him, "just a little tired."

"Okay," Mark says, leaving it at that with a sceptical look. "Let's get you something to drink."

"Was today just a ruse to get me away from the castle?"

Theodore had found me an hour after we arrived, looking distracted as ever when he handed over a slice of cake he'd saved for me.

"What?"

"You didn't actually want to bond with me, did you?"

I thought over my options, should I lie to him or just let him know the truth. Deciding on the latter, I tell him: "yeah, Zabini and Malfoy asked me to—" the clench in his jaw caught my attention "—wait, are you upset?"

Truthfully, Theodore says, "yes."

To say I was baffled was an understatement. "Why? What's wrong? Do you not like the party?"

"No," he counters. "It's not the party, the party's fine."

A beat passes by, Theodore hesitating. And then, finally, he says. "It's you."

"Me?" Have I done something to upset him? "Did I say something—"

"I thought you wanted to spend the day with me."

"I'm sorry." I'm not sure why exactly I was apologising but it felt like the right thing to do. "But to be fair, you didn't actually want to spend the day with me, did you?"

He avoids my eyes and I knew then that things can no longer be platonic. "I think you should leave before I do something idiotic."

"Like?"

"Kiss you."

How does one respond to that? His ears aren't red this time round. The look on his face is torn between hesitancy and distress. And I was stupid enough to reach up to him, a palm cradling his face, meeting his dark eyes.

A second passes and when he doesn't make to move away, I stand up to the tip of my toes and press my lips onto his. Theodore leans down, easing the strain of my neck as he kisses back without missing a beat.

A bump of the nose causes us to pull back, looking at one another with wide blown eyes before a subtle glow catches our attention. Tied to our pinkies, the string glows red, a shot of spark passing from his end towards mine only for it to lose its light when none comes from my side to ignite it.

What the spark means exactly, I didn't know. But I will not spend another second waiting around to see what it might meant. "That was a mistake," I say quickly, gathering my things. "Goodnight, Theodore."

I didn't know why I didn't notice it at first, but as I walked away, slice of cake in hand; the feel of plastic beneath the cake caught me off guard. I bring it into my eyesight, a vanilla danish neatly wrapped with a note attached to its side.

It seems like you've got me wrapped around your finger. Do me a favour and don't let it linger.

Blaise had a theory. And that theory consists of his two friends who had yet to find their soulmates. Or so they say.

Gathered around the room of requirement were the same people who attended Theodore's birthday party, give or take five people less.

Blaise stands in the middle of the room, the rest of us lounging on the sofa as we watch him speak. "Come here you," he points at Theodore, then he turns to me, "you as well."

My nerves gets the better part of me, causing me to glance at Theodore for help despite knowing that we were both drowning in the same boat. Did Blaise know about us being soulmates? Did Theodore tell him about it? Maybe I shouldn't have trusted him so blindly.

"You two," he says loudly. "Have been lying to us!" And then, a few notches down, he adds, "I think."

My brows furrowed, feigning innocence. "How so?"

Like a magician, he lifts up his hand dramatically, then grabs Theodore's pale hand in it. And in my eyes, the string was as visible as ever. I think I know where he was going with this and there's nothing to prepare me for what's to come next.

"Pay attention to her fingers okay?" Blaise instructs. I feel faint, dizzy, all the adjectives for nauseousness as each second passes by. "Her soulmate pinkie to be exact."

This is it. This is when they find out and Mark hates me for the rest of his life because I didn't tell him I'd found my soulmate.

Mark frowns, his bottom lips caught in his teeth as he watches on sceptically.

Blaise pulls at Theodore's pinkie, the same exact motion he'd done on end for the last couple of months. And, just like it had before, my finger pulls to Theodore's direction. Blaise pulls at it again and the same set of motions repeats itself.

"Why didn't you tell us?" Elio spoke first.

"Well," I began, everyone's attention turning to me. "Because, it's not your fucking business." Mark stifles a laugh at my words. "Theodore and I chose to keep it a secret for a reason."

"And that reason is?" Malfoy chimes in.

I didn't have to say anything for Theodore to know what I wanted them to know. "We didn't want soulmates."

"And now?" Blaise follows up. "Do you still not want soulmates?"

"Honestly?" I say. "I don't know."

It takes Theodore five seconds to note Mark's arrival at the Slytherin table. And it takes him another three seconds to notice that I wasn't there with them.

Mark chats animatedly with Elio, not once pausing to explain my lack of appearance at tonight's dinner.

Maybe they've grown too fond of me, or maybe Blaise likes me more than Theo thought he did, because he was quick to ask Mark where I was. "Doll's, not having dinner with us tonight?"

"No." Mark didn't even bat an eyelash at the pet name Blaise used. "She caught a cold and asked me to bring her something when I get back."

Theodore eyebrow's knit together curiously. "She's not in the infirmary?"

If the people at the table noticed the hint of concern in his voice, they didn't show it. Well —everyone except Mark that is. A gasp falls from his lips, staring at Theodore with wide eyes. Did he fancy his best friend?

Mark catches himself, shaking his head as he explained. "She said that it was just a common cold and that it'll go away soon. She didn't want to waste Madam Pomfrey's time when she could be focusing on something more pressing."

And when Theodore's eyes narrows. Mark feels the need to clarify himself. "Her words, not mine."

Theodore stands up then, excusing himself as he tells Mark not to worry about me and that he'll get something for me to eat. Mark didn't even get a chance to remind him about my meds before he slipped away and into the kitchens.

Mark didn't stress over it though, something in him knew that Theodore would not forget my medications.

A set of knocks lands on my door, approximately fifteen minutes later. And with a groggy "come in" from my bed; the door clicks open, Theodore standing behind it with a tray of food floating behind him.

"Theo?" I rub my eyes, unsure of what I was seeing. "What are you doing here?"

"Mark tells me you're sick." Did he? "So I brought you dinner." That's ... nice of him to do.

Theodore stands awkwardly by the door, not stepping an inch into a room. A part of me wonders if he was a vampire, waiting to be formally invited in before he could actually do anything. "You can come in."

The tray of food floats over first, resting just on top of my bedside table. Theodore follows in after it, staying a few feet away from my bed. "Wait, who let you in? Through the barrels and stuff?"

"No one in particular." He says. "They left the entrance open."

That was the hufflepuff way of doing things.

"Well thank you." My palm lays flat on my bed, pushing all of my body weight to a seating position. "For this. I know you'd rather spend the night doing something more fun than doing Mark a favour."

Theodore frowns, coming over to my side. "Mark didn't ask me to do this," he tells me; his hand carefully reaching for my arm, the other pressing against the small of my back to help me sit up properly. "I just wanted to make sure you were okay."

My attempt to resist teasing him was futile, even sick and on the verge of dying, I still think that Theodore's reaction to things —if there was one that is— was adorable. "Awh, did you miss me?"

Theodore didn't bother to say no. He didn't have to, it was clear by the hesitant look on his face that he did miss me. Even if I'd only just seen him yesterday.

"You should eat," he says instead, the glimpse of his tinging red ears not missed by me when he handed me a glass of water. "Drink this, eat, then take your medications."

A roll of my eyes paired with an 'I know' has him standing straight. And somehow, I get the feeling that he thinks he might've overstepped my boundaries. Not knowing what to say —or do for that matter, I settled on telling him: "thank you, again. I really appreciate it, Theo."

Theodore hums and we could both sense that our conversation was ending, but, strangely enough, despite never knowing what to say in front of him, I can't seem to just let him slip away tonight.

A glance at the tray Theo brought, then another back at him, had me asking a question I might be regretting minutes later. "Have you eaten, Theo?"

His eyes fell down onto my hand, the floor, anything but my face. The corner of his lips twists, a small dent in his cheek barely hiding his attempt to bite back a smile. He knew where I was going with this. "No."

A shift to the side, a pat on the empty seat besides me. "Good." I say first. "We can share."

The string tied to our pinkie glows, and this time, unlike the first, the sparks meets in the middle, igniting brighter than it has ever done before.

Being sick gave me a lot of time to reflect. And even more time for me to realise that me saying 'I don't know' complicates things. Everyone seems to be walking around eggshells when the topic of Theodore and I came up and quite frankly I'm fucking tired of it.

Theodore likes me. We're soulmates. This should be easy. I know how I feel, I can make things work.

Like feels childish. Love feels too strong. Infatuated is what I'm not when it comes to Theodore. I care for him the same way he cares for me. That should say something shouldn't it?

What I recently learned about Theodore is that he takes up an entire table at the library. Just him alone, and the whole table that would usually host four students all because he works in a mess.

"Uhm—" he looks up at me. "—can I sit here?"

He nods and turns back to his book. Not moving a single thing to the side. I sigh, organising his mess to one side and making a mental note to tell him off about it later. But for now, I ought to get my feelings sorted out.

"I wanted to talk to you," I say first. Theo hums, signalling that he was listening to me. "Can you look at me, please?"

He looks up from his page and shoved his book to the side, giving me his full undivided attention.

"I thought about it and I don't want to be platonic soulmates anymore," I tell him.

He looks in thought. "So you came here to say that you want to sever the soulmates connection?"

"No!" I say quickly, eyes wide. "No, not that. At all."

He seems to know what was going to come next, the corner of his lips turning upwards but he stops himself, not wanting to get too excited. "What is it then?"

"I care for you," I tell him. "And if you still care for me, I want to give this soulmate thing a shot."

His eyes soften. "Of course, I still care for you." He replies. "And I'm assuming by care you mean love?"

I pursed my lips, going over what I wanted to say and being careful with how I choose to phrase it. Finally, I decided on: "Not love per se," I say first. "Just us taking a step towards it."

" 'course not," he replies. "Baby steps, right?"

"Right," I say, feeling awkward under his gaze. "Baby steps." And then, I added. "Now if we're going to make this soulmate thing work out we need to actually go out."

He nods. "I'll take you to dinner on Friday then."

"Sure." A smile creeps onto my face. "It's a date." The tip of his ears reddens at my words, cute as ever. "I can't wait to see your cute little butt then."

Theodore fixes me a look between amused and judging, he breaks after a bit, shaking his head with a small chuckle. Incredulously he says, "I can't believe I'm in love with you."

"Woah there dude, you're moving a little fast," I said with a small smile. "Slow it down a bit, will you?"

"Too late, my love." And if I had a small liking towards the guy, my feelings were definitely amplified by his stupidly dumb sense of humour. "I've already gotten your name tattooed on my buttocks."

— from bee: i havent wrote in so long, this was so fun!! i always love writing theo so this was just a blast hehe

notes/reblog/feedbacks are greatly appreciated!!

[bangtanfanfiction]

cold → myg (M)

Not proof read. 

♢ Pairing: Yoongi x Female!Reader → Hogwarts AU

♢ Word count: 16.6k (Idk how this happened okay)

♢ Genre: Angst, fluff, strangers to lovers, arranged marriage, slight slowburn, smut 

⌲ Description: Min Yoongi - The 7th year Slytherin student notorious for his cold and indifferent personality, and not to mention his anti-social tendencies. What was it about him that made you so curious?  - Warnings: swearing, some finger action

Hogwarts au masterlist

AN: Whenever I write Hogwarts AU’s I like to include characters that already exist in that world instead of coming up with a lot of OC’s. So you’ll be meeting with a few familiar faces ;)

‘Y/N’ in my story is more of her own character rather than an insert - I’ve tried to keep detailed description down to a minimum, but in some cases it was unavoidable. So sorry for those who find that annoying.

“Miss Y/N...”

“Miss Y/N.”

“Miss Y/N!”

Your eyes flew open at the raised voice next to your ear, heart thumping for some unknown reason as the familiar sight of the dark ceiling came back into focus. Sighing, you relaxed back into your mattress before lazily addressing the voice.

“What is it, Tudey?” You muttered tiredly while the small house elf beside your bed played with her hands nervously.

“Mistress told Tudey to wake Miss up. The Hogwarts train leaves in two hours and Miss cannot afford to be late,” Her squeaky, uncertain voice relayed the message urgently, ears twitching nervously at the sight of irritation on your features. 

Although feeling slightly bad for scaring Tudey for just doing her job, it wasn't enough for you to bother clearing away your irritation. The house elf had known you since birth, and being a naturally nervous creature there wasn’t much you could do.

Resisting another sigh, you just nodded, waving her off as the sound of a loud crack was heard before silence took over again.

You remained in your position for a few moments in your overly large bed, eyes closed and craving more sleep, a black and burgundy comforter tightly wrapped around your body. 

The bedroom was cold, as always. The kind of cold that wasn’t exactly terrible, but enough to make you somehow uncomfortable at certain moments - such as waking up in the middle of the night. The air never failed to draw goosebumps on your skin whenever you woke. 

But you had gotten so used to the feeling that it barely bothered you anymore.

Stretching one last time, you got out of bed and went towards your wardrobe placed in the corner of the room. You didn’t waste a lot of time finding clothes and simply chose the first outfit that you managed to put together, consisting of a black long-sleeved turtleneck with a tight button skirt. You finished the look with some laced-up boots and a classy white blazer to make it a bit more sophisticated. 

Sitting down in front of your vanity table you saw your still half asleep face looking back at you. With a shudder, you grabbed your wand and gave it a wave - the glamor spell doing a quick change to meet the day.

Downstairs, the sound of pots clanging echoed from the large kitchen as you passed it along with the forms of several house elves walking around getting food ready for your family.

Inside the spacious dining room, your parents were already sitting on each end of the table. Both nursing their own cups of tea while reading the Daily Prophet. 

The same thick, tense silence for no reason greeted you.

Your younger brother, who was starting his first year, sat on the left of your mother and your older sister by two years on the right. Choosing the chair to your father’s left, you sat down silently before acknowledging them.

“Morning mother, father,” You nodded at each of them and felt your mother’s scrutinizing look directed at you - which you tried to ignore. It had become a habit at this point. 

“Seeing how you decided to arrive late today, I expect you are ready to pass Hogwarts this year with only the highest marks,” your father’s voice spoke up next to you as you sent him a thin-lipped smile.

“Of course, father.”

He looked at you for a few more seconds before moving on to address your older sister next to you, silently eating her breakfast with her back ram straight. The only one in the room who wasn’t hesitant about openly showing their emotions was your brother. And not even your uptight, pureblood parents could blame him for it. It was his first year at Hogwarts after all, any eleven-year-olds would have been excited at the thought.

Inwardly sighing, you couldn’t help but think how you weren’t lucky enough to be born into a normal, magical family - not even as a muggleborn at that. 

Your luck was as rotten as the trails of crimes belonging to the majority of the sacred Twenty-Eight families still existing to this day. 

Your mother was sitting silently in her seat, too occupied with the news to ask you any questions. Daphne Greengrass had aged well ever since her Hogwarts days, aging slowly and elegantly, not that different compared to your aunt Astoria. They had the same head of dark brown hair and eyes, traits that you had inherited. But unlike her paleness, yours was much more tan, a clear mix of both your parents.

Your father, Blaise Zabini, was an infamous name for all the wizards and witches who lived during the Second Wizarding War, although he had done his best to remain under the radar since then. 

 His affiliation with the Malfoys and several rumors about having been a past death eater were still whispered in the streets whenever any of you walked past. You never had the courage to ask either him or your mother about that. They were dark times, and you were only lucky to be born when the Dark Lord wasn’t trying to take over the world. 

When both of your parents had first married, it wasn’t because of love. More like convenience. It was no well-kept secret that your grandmother from your father’s side was a wealthy woman with her past six deceased husbands. The Greengrass family was one of the prestigious pureblood families still living - so it just made sense to unite the two bloodlines. But your surname would still remain as Greengrass with the influence behind the name soaring above your father’s. 

Even as the years passed, your parents were both adamant about not changing their views when it came to blood status. Their pride and arrogance worth more than anything. Which caused you and your two siblings to be raised in a traditional pureblood Slytherin household. 

Draco Malfoy himself had even changed for the better after his house arrest for being involved with the Dark Lord.

However, the only one who actually agreed with their views was your older sister. She lived to please them. Their praises make her feel better about her achievements.

Blood status didn’t matter to you. Why would you care if they were muggleborn or pure? You’d rather rely on your judgment of character to do the work. You had little patience for cowards. Neither were you the biggest admirer of the timid and silent, nor the rowdy and arrogant. 

Some would say you weren’t the most liked pupil around Hogwarts. Both you and your sister had been sorted into Slytherin on the first day, making nearly everyone, except for your brother, a snake.

After you had finished eating enough breakfast to call yourself full, your father stood up from his seat while looking at his wristwatch.

“Time to go or else you’ll miss the train.”

Everyone stood nearly as one and made their way towards the large double front doors in dark mahogany. Your parents both put on their luxurious robes when your father waved his wand and muttered a spell as two trunks came floating down the stairs. He shrunk them and put them in his pocket before opening the door for everyone to step out of besides your sister. 

She had an early shift at the ministry for her work and wasn't able to come. Not that it bothered you. You never had a good relationship with each other and she proved that by sneering at you, her judgemental eyes raking down your ‘muggle’ looking clothes.

“Try not to disgrace our family name this year, Y/N,” she said as if trying to embarrass you in front of your parents. 

You weren’t the one who had been caught snogging in a broom cupboard during your last year. 

You simply rolled your eyes at her. “I’d say the same thing to you.”

Your father offered you his arm, which you accepted while your mother held tightly to your brother’s hand. Taking a deep breath, you felt the familiar nauseous feeling of being squeezed through a tiny tube when your feet landed back on solid ground. To your annoyance, you stumbled, but your father held tightly to your arm to hinder you from falling completely to the ground. 

It was actions like these that made you feel confused towards the man who was your dad. He played the part well in front of others, taking you and your siblings to the trains each year as well as picking you up during the holidays. Yet his words and expressions were always laced with the monotone coldness you had grown up with. 

Straightening your clothes, you resisted the sad sigh before turning to the familiar, heartwarming sight before you. 

The red magnificent train sent a feeling of safety through you as allowed a small smile. This would be your last year taking it. Your father had already taken out the trunks and turned them back to their original size before turning to you.

“Remember what I told you. We expect nothing less than Outstanding on all your subjects this year,” he reminded sternly as if it was the only thing he could discuss when talking to you. 

Never your wellbeing - just your grades and performance in class.

With that, all the feelings of confusion evaporated quickly from your mind. 

“Yes father, I remember,” you forced yourself to hold the smile at him. “Wouldn’t want to disappoint you.” 

His eyes narrowed at your last sentence but remained silent for your family’s sake. Blaise Zabini was never one for public displays, affection or otherwise. 

“And dress more appropriately next time, Y/N,” Your mother huffed as she glared at where your legs were showing. You wisely chose to hold your tongue at that, knowing nothing good would come out of you smart-mouthing your own mother as well. 

Thankfully it was at that moment the Malfoy family decided to make an appearance, led by Draco himself. He greeted both of your parents and ruffled your little brother’s hair while giving your shoulder a gentle pat. You smiled back at him and his wife, Astoria, giving both of them hugs before discreetly moving toward where their son was standing. 

Scorpius was the same age as you, also starting his seventh year. Not to mention the fact that you were cousins. As you got closer, the gleaming sign of prefect in his hand caught your attention.

“Is that a Prefect sign, Malfoy?” You couldn’t help but ask in amusement as you stood next to him, elbow nudging his. 

His head snapped to the side at your voice, having obviously been lost in thought and giving you an annoyed look. “Jealous, Greengrass?”

“Hah!” You chuckled. “As if. I’d rather not run around the halls after foolish first years.”

“Your brother is a first-year,” Scorpius pointed out.

“Exactly,” You smirked in reply as he shook his head. “Why do you have that anyway?”

“The previous Prefect bailed out apparently, so they needed a new one,” Shrugging, you noticed his eyes glancing around discreetly again. 

“Is that even possible?” 

“Don’t ask me, at least I am one,” Scorpius leered in jest as you scoffed, retaliating smoothly.

“How’s your little girlfriend?”

His silver-blue eyes widened as he slapped a hand over your mouth quickly and you winced at the sudden force. He looked at both of your parents who were far too busy talking about other things.

“Not so loud!” He hissed, bending down to glare.

You pried his hand off you in irritation, before raising your eyebrows at him. “They don’t know?”

“I haven’t told them yet,” Scorpius muttered.

“How can you not tell them you’re dating a Potter?” you asked in disbelief but made sure to keep your voice down. “The whole bloody school knows.”

He gave you a look. “My father would disown me.” How daft of him to even think that, you wanted to cackle. Draco Malfoy disowning his only child? As fucking if. 

“You actually think that?”

“Wouldn’t yours?”

“Well of course he would. He’s my father. But uncle Draco is different, you know that. And your mum just happens to be the nicer sister out of our mothers.”

Scorpius gnawed at his lower lip, guilt obvious at your words. He was well aware of your relationship with his aunt and uncle, and no part of him had planned to make it sound like he wasn't aware of it.

“I’ll tell them. At Christmas.”

Your nose twitched at his cowardice but didn’t bother trying to persuade him anymore. It was his business, after all, cousins or not. You weren’t a meddler. 

“Alright you three, it’s about time for you to get on the train,” Draco then spoke up with a soft tug of his lips as he turned to face your little group - your little brother having been silent and only gawking at the train throughout all the exchanged conversations.

“Yep, see you later Dad, Mum,” Scorpius was quick to place a kiss on Astoria’s cheek and give his father a one-armed hug before vanishing through the crowd and towards the train, trunk in hand.

You could only gape at how quickly he had left you alone at the mercy of your whole family.

Not that Draco and Astoria were the problem. You loved them honestly. But it was a different story when it came to interacting with them in public besides your own parents and what was appropriate in their opinion.

You were never allowed to show a big variety of emotions growing up. Always having to stand tall and unbothered, not let anyone see your weaknesses.

“Are you ready for your last year, sweetheart?” Astoria walked up to you, dainty hands cupping the sides of your face and looking you over with sparkling, nearly black eyes that showed none of the same dead, emptiness her sister did.

And you felt a pinch of sadness inside of you never having been called that from your own mum.

“As ready as I’ll ever be,” You managed to breathe out, a hint of genuine nerves shining through your hard facade. 

Your aunt and uncle were one of the few you allowed yourself to relax around. And they knew it as well.

“I’m sure you’ll do great,” Draco assured you gently before turning back to face your father, voice hardening only the slightest, almost in warning. Not that it helped. “Won’t she?”

In contrast to the Malfoys' bright voices, your father's was low and indifferent. “Yes, of course. We expect only the best.”

“Oh come on Blaise,” Draco clapped the back of his best friend, features losing the good-natured look and replaced with a slightly tense smile. “Hogwarts isn’t all about studying.”

If you could, you would have hugged the life out of your uncle for trying his best to make this moment into something more comforting for you. As futile as it was.

“Well you better go Y/N, or else you’ll miss the train,” your mother then spoke up, nothing near the loving tone your aunt had used. "Make sure your brother finds his way around."

“I’ll take my leave then.” Taking a hold of your brother’s smaller hand you lead him towards the train, trunks in hand. Him waving at your family as you got on and the door closed behind you.

You turned around to peer down at him expectantly. “You’ll find your way around right?”

“Yes,” he huffed at you. “I’m not a kid.”

Your lips tugged up, but you kept them at bay. “Of course you’re not.” You ruffled his hair before making your way down the tight crowded hallways of the train.

It seemed like most compartments had already been filled with people, and you tsked in annoyance. Nearing the end of the train one compartment caught your attention with only a single person in it. You couldn’t see who it was, but for now, you could care less. 

Sliding open the door, you leaned against it.

“Do you mind?”

The boy had a head of black hair and looked up as you quickly recognized him.

“Not at all,” Yoongi replied, before turning back to the notebook in his hands.

Not offering any words, you only shook your head in bemusement at his usual behavior.

After making sure your trunk was safely placed above your seat, you sat down closest to the window which also happened to be across from Yoongi. You didn’t bother to say anything to acknowledge him as you crossed your legs and looked out at the scenery passing by.

The only sound in the compartment besides you two breathing was the sound of his pen scribbling on the notebook on his lap in concentration. You couldn’t help but glance over in curiosity a few times - not that you managed to see what he was writing from your seat. What you didn’t understand was why he wasn’t seated with his usual group of friends around school. They were quite well known around Hogwarts for their apparently attractive looks and powerful family backgrounds.

The perfect young bachelors.

You weren’t the only one coming from a prestigious Slytherin family after all. 

From what you had heard, Yoongi’s family were all pureblood as well, all having gone to Slytherin as he did now. They were one of the most influential Wizarding families in East Asia, being related to the Parks - who were on top of the chain. His parents hadn’t necessarily been death eaters, but it was quite clear which side they stood on during both of the wars yet still managed to leave unscathed. They had moved from Britain and back to South Korea after the fall of Voldemort but then returned when Yoongi had been born. 

Or so you had heard from the sources of gossip. 

Despite being in the same house, you had barely interacted with the guy. It was quickly known during your first year that he was quite the loner. Refusing to open up and befriend anyone except for that close group of his. The only one you knew personally from them was Jimin Park - his cousin. Another Slytherin in the year below you, his personality being strangely kind and sweet for a snake that you could never wrap your head around.

Not to say you were a social butterfly. 

People stayed away from Yoongi because they knew he wasn’t interested. They stayed away from you because they were afraid. 

Some would think that smiling was an unfamiliar concept to you. It was always blank, or when it wasn’t, it was a glare of judgment. The only ones exempted from it were Scorpius or your other friend, Albus Potter. The two boys having been attached by the hip since first year, before adopting a pity looking eleven-year-old you into their circle. 

You’d say your bark was often worse than your bite unless people really gave you a reason to have a taste. 

You wouldn’t want to disappoint them after all. 

Taking another good look at the boy - or man -  sitting across from you. You noted that he had impressively changed quite a bit over the summer. 

He was no longer as thin and lanky as before. His face seemed to have sculpted a bit more, making it look more defined. His hair which was shockingly white-blonde before was back to black and covered his forehead in a deliberate looking mess. Wearing what looked like slacks and a dress shirt, the first three buttons unbuttoned, showcasing the pale skin underneath. The sleeves were rolled up to his elbows. The glint of metal told about the belt he wore around his hips. He wore a pair of luxurious leather dress shoes, not a single scrape on them, and shining to perfection. 

Not that you even expected something remotely cheaper looking from a pureblood.

“If all you’re going to do is stare you might as well talk,” His surprisingly deep voice, contrary to his slighter figure suddenly spoke, raising his head to lift a brow at you.

You simply smirked, not the slightest bothered at being caught. “I didn’t take you for someone to talk.”

“I’m not,” he agreed. “But I usually don’t share compartments either.”

“What happened to your friends?” You questioned, leaning back against the cushioned bench. “Trouble in paradise?”

You saw his lips tug up at your jest before smoothing out again. “More like too much paradise. Everyone needs privacy once in a while.”

You acknowledged his answer with a nod and turned to look back out the window.

“Where’s Malfoy? Expected to see him attached on your hip.”

“Probably busy snogging his girlfriend,” You replied casually.

“Ah,” Yoongi realized. “The Potter girl, isn't it? Or was it Weasley? I always mix up that family.”

“Potter,” You confirmed in amusement. “The youngest if I’m not wrong - sweet Hufflepuff girl, but quite the firecracker.”

“Who would have known; A Potter and Malfoy ending up together,” a snigger was on his lips as he spoke the words.

You returned it. “A snake and a badger. Let’s hope it’ll last.” 

“Badgers are the ones known to consume snakes, you know. Perhaps Malfoy is the one who should watch his back.”

Thinking back on the first meeting between you and the youngest Potter girl, you couldn’t help but find his analogy ironically fitting. A firecracker might even be too gentle of a description when it came to the redhead, but you could see yourself getting along with her in the time to come.

“Perhaps you’re right.”

“Hm,” He simply hummed in reply before his eyes flickered back to the notebook on his lap, your eyes following him the entire time. You should be ashamed for staring as you did, honestly. He scribbled something down before speaking up again.

“Something on your mind, Greengrass?”

“Just intrigued.”

Yoongi arched his brow in a silent question.

“For being labeled as the loner you are, you’re awfully talkative.”

“Just because I prefer my own company doesn’t mean that I’m anti-social,” He countered calmly.

You couldn’t help but agree with his answer. “Touché.”

You settled back into your seat and leaned your head back with a small inaudible sigh. You never were a fan of the long trip it took to get to Hogwarts. Your body despised being stuck in one place for too long. It always got too uncomfortable and sleep wasn’t even something you considered. 

There was a slight chill in the compartments that brushed against your exposed legs as you unconsciously tried to tighten the blazer around you to keep the goosebumps at bay. Maybe it wasn’t that clever to wear a skirt on the long ride back to school. 

The feeling of some heavy fabric being suddenly placed over your lap made your eyes snap open in surprise. Yoongi was sitting back in his seat and you looked down to see a black leather jacket covering your previously cold legs.

You opened your mouth to say something, but seeing the way he didn’t even spare you a glance and returned to writing in his book, you decided to remain silent. Adjusting the jacket a bit, you closed your eyes again. 

But what you didn’t notice in your relaxed state was the way Yoongi would glance up at you from time to time. 

+ 

It was nearly completely dark outside the next time you opened your eyes. The compartment was empty beside yourself when the door slid open and you met the familiar green eyes of your best friend.

“I’ve been looking for you,” Albus Potter stated as he leaned against the doorway with crossed arms. His black hair was disheveled on top of his head as always. This time you allowed yourself to smile genuinely with no fear of judgment.

“Sorry,” You muttered and shook your head. “I lost track of time.”

He took another glance at you before questioning. “Did you sleep?”

“I guess so,” You shrugged in reply, though you were put off at the revelation. You had simply closed your eyes to rest them like always but managed to lull yourself to sleep. 

“Well, you better get changed,” Albus clicked his tongue and glanced down at the golden watch on his wrist that he received for his 17th birthday just a month previously. “We’re nearly there and you’re probably the last one still lounging around.”

“Alright, alright,” You waved him off sounding annoyed, but a part of you had missed his punctual nagging and welcomed the familiarity of it.

Albus stepped inside the compartment as you stood up, just to wrap an arm around your waist and pull you into a hug, that you wholeheartedly accepted. A near sigh of relief coming from you.

You had missed the comfort of your best friend being stuck inside the cold manor of your family for half of the summer. 

“I missed you,” Albus must have known how bad you’ve had it, or Scorpius had filled him in, that nosy fool. 

“I missed you too.”

With a peck against your cheek, he stepped back outside and shut the door with the blinds falling down to conceal you from prying eyes. 

That was when you noticed the jacket laying by your feet. Picking it up you simply stared at it for a few seconds before shaking your head.

You managed to change quickly by summoning your uniform and replacing them in the trunk. Straightening out the plain gray skirt and tucking your white blouse in the waistband. Finishing with the stockings and putting on your shoes, you felt the train lurching to a stop and saw the station outside the windows. 

Tucking your wand in your pocket and draping the leather jacket over your shoulders, you stepped outside the compartment to see Scorpius had joined Albus in waiting for you.

“So sleeping beauty has finally joined us,” Your cousin smirked at you.

“Oh shut up, I wasn’t the one running off to snog my girlfriend and leaving my cousin for the sharks,” Was your retort, seeing the faint blush creeping up his cheeks.

“Shut it both of you,” Albus groaned. “That’s my sister you’re talking about.”

With a girlish giggle, you only let yourself make around your closest friends, you looped your arms through both of theirs before starting to pull them towards the exit. The three of you managed to push through the excited first years and towards the carriages.

The younger students automatically moved out of the way seeing three upper years waltzing up. You had seen a glimpse of your younger brother, but he quickly vanished within the crowd after being led towards the boats.

When the carriages finally came to a stop, Albus helped you step down before making your way inside the familiar stone structure.

A visible smile of comfort was drawn on all three as you looked around the castle.

“Can’t believe it’s our last year,” Scorpius spoke on the way toward the Great Hall.

“It’s surreal,” Albus agreed. “I’m gonna miss Hogwarts.”

Me too, you couldn’t help but think back but decided to keep your thoughts to yourself. 

The only positive thing about leaving the magical school was the fact that you could finally move out for yourself. There was no need to live in the suffocating manor of your parents anymore now that you were seventeen and nearly graduated.

The Great Hall was in an excited buzz for the start of the term. People from all houses were racing across the room to greet friends after the long break. The three of you made your way over to the table covered in mostly green and silver before sitting down at the complete end, closest to the doors. It was where the graduating students usually sat, with the first years closest to the front. 

You couldn’t help but try to look around in curiosity in search of one certain snake in your year, but it was hard to find someone in the masses of the crowd with such a neutral hair color like black.

“Is that a new jacket?” Albus questioned you as he noticed the leather draped over your shoulder.

“Uh no, borrowed it from a...friend,” you hesitated at the words and he noticed it quickly.

“Really?”

“No, not really.” 

“Who gave it to you?” He continued to probe.

“You know Yoongii?” You turned your head to look at him seated beside you.

“It’s his jacket?”

“Yeah,” you confirmed. “I was cold and he leant it to me.”

“I never took him for someone who cared,” Scorpius added in the conversation. He sat on the other side of the table, facing the two of you. 

“Neither did I, but I was apparently wrong.”

“Wonder why he gave up the Prefect position,” Albus mused as you frowned. 

“Wait - he was the previous Prefect?” You asked in surprise. “Since when?”

Both of your best friends gave you exaggerated looks. 

“What do you mean since when, since he was chosen in fifth year, what else,” your cousin snorted. 

Out of nowhere, a pair of hands clamped down on your shoulder so suddenly that you couldn’t help but jump and let out a curse, knocking your knee against the underside of the table - your heart racing frantically inside your chest.

Laughter broke out from your friends as you whipped around to glare at the culprit that scared you. 

“Bloody hell Parkinson, get a life will you!” You snapped, fond irritation coating your words at the guy guffawing behind you.

Liam Parkinson, the only son of the newly divorced Pansy Parkinson, was laughing. He had the same light brown hair as his mother with her dark eyes. With about a head taller than yourself, the guy waltzed around Hogwarts boasting his lean and muscular build that came from being a beater towards any girls who would fall for his tricks. 

“Come on now, love. No need to be so uptight,” With a smirk, he slid into the bench next to you.

“How was summer, mate?” Scorpius asked him through his own snickering, propping an elbow up on the table, chin against his hand lazily. 

“Dreadful,” Liam replied with an exaggerated roll of his eyes. “Mum’s been moping every single day. Don’t even know why. It’s not like my father was dad of the year either.”

“Sorry to hear,” Albus grimaced at those words, having grown well-known of the drama that apparently followed pureblood Slytherins everywhere they went. 

“Yeah, I wish my parents would get a divorce,” Your blunt words were no surprise for anyone. “Can’t handle having the two of them in the same room.”

“She mostly spent summer with us anyways,” Your cousin added.

“Thank Merlin for the Malfoys.”

Before they could continue, the grand doors to the Great Hall opened up, hushing all conversations in the room. A long line of first years started to stumble inside, looking around in amazement. You caught your brother’s eye as you sent him a quick wink in encouragement.

But after seven years of the same thing, the sorting went by dreadfully slow for your taste as you tried to hide your chuckles from the foolish things your friends were whispering about. When you heard your brother’s name being called, you perked up to see him nervously step up to the stool before the hat was placed on his head. There was only a 10-second wait when his house was called out.

“Ravenclaw!”

You didn’t hold back your applause as you cheered for him like the table clad in blue and bronze.

“Hey, who would have thought? First Greengrass not be sorted into Slytherin,” Liam commented as he threw an arm casually around your shoulder.

“He’s not the first one,” You rolled your eyes with a smile. “Just the only one currently alive.”

“You think your parents will be okay with it?” Albus asked you.

You nodded. “It’s better than Gryffindor or Hufflepuff. I think they expected it.”

The sorting flew by after that along with the speech of Headmistress McGonagall who wished everyone back to Hogwarts to do their best, along with addressing the new Head boy and Girl. Who happened to be Albus and a girl from Hufflepuff you had never heard of before. 

It was when dinner began that people rose up from their assigned house tables and sat with their friends instead. It was such a usual occurrence now that no one even reacted. The Great Hall went from going color-coordinated to a sea of green, blue, red, and yellow all mixed together. 

You were just glancing over your shoulder when you caught the familiar face of Yoongi sitting at the end of the Ravenclaw table with his usual group. That reminded you of the leather jacket now draped across your lap. 

“I’ll be right back,” you told your friends, standing up and making your way over.

The seven boys weren’t one of the silent groups, that was for sure. And you noticed how they seemed to differ in years as well, not only houses. But they quickly saw you coming in their direction as they looked on in curiosity.

You ignored all of them as you took hold of the jacket and addressed the owner. “You forgot this.”

Yoongi simply stared up at you for a second before accepting the clothing you held out. “It seemed like you needed it more than me.”

“What a gentleman." You allowed yourself the smallest hint of a half smirk. “But you might not be so lucky to have it returned next time.”

Yoongi raised an eyebrow at you. “Next time?”

“Don’t be a stranger, Min,” was all you said before turning around and sitting back down with your friends, who all looked at you strangely.

They had never seen you go out of your way to get to know someone. Even if that someone was in the same year and house. 

“What was that all about?” Liam questioned you.

You took a sip of your pumpkin juice. “I think I just made a new friend.”

+

The semester was kicking your arse only two months in. Flooding you with homework and preparations for the upcoming N.E.W.T.s, your professors turned merciless to make sure everyone was prepared. 

With prideful parents like yours, they only expected the best. You had two acceptable choices in their book. It was either becoming a Ministry official or the Department of Mysteries. 

You never were fond of the second choice, and the thought of becoming an Unspeakable didn’t sit well with you. Not after everything you had read about what happened there during the war. Becoming a ministry official seemed the logical choice, your attention being on the Department of Magical Law Enforcement, where Harry Potter himself was the head and had changed tremendously in the years since his appointment, having become one of the most praised departments in the British Magical community. 

However, with Hermione Granger as the current Minister of Magic, there wasn’t much of the Ministry to be talked badly about with how much effort the past war heroes have done to make sure everything was going in a positive direction. 

Too bad they couldn’t change your family too.

Putting down the quill in your hand, you glared at the stack of books by your side and several pieces of parchments being filled to the brim. Your body ached from sitting for too long, and the air in the library was starting to feel suffocating to you.

“That doesn’t look pleasant,” a voice suddenly commented at the sight of the table you sat on.

You weren’t even surprised anymore to hear that voice near you.

Yoongi and you had developed a strange sort of friendship ever since the compartments.

It wasn’t one where the two of you spent time together to hang out. But rather silent companionship, where words were spoken freely without fear of insults or hurt feelings. You were both too damn stubborn for that. 

You never sought out for each other’s company. Simply conversing whenever you cross paths. And it happened more often than you would have imagined.

“Never said it was,” You mumbled without turning around and stretching your stiff fingers.

“How long have you been sitting here?” Yoongi asked over your shoulder.

You could sense the way he was scanning your writing and what you were working on.

Taking a look at the watch on your wrist you shrugged. “Since 12.”

“On a Sunday of all things?” there was amusement with a hint of disbelief in his voice.

Glancing up at him you arched an eyebrow. “So Mr. Antisocial has never studied on a Sunday before?”

“Believe it or not, I do have a life you know,” Was his reply while walking around the table and taking a seat on the chair opposite of you.

“I find that hard to believe,” you leaned forward with a leer as he narrowed his eyes at you good-naturedly.

“How unfortunate for me,” he drawled.

You snorted unattractively, before leaning back in your chair with a stretch of your arms. “What brings you to the library on a weekend then?”

“I’m bored,” Yoongi replied. “And Namjoon was getting too intellectual for my taste.”

“Namjoon?” You pondered over the name. “The Ravenclaw prefect in our year?”

“The very same.”

“Well if I don’t remember wrong, he is one of the top three students.”

“Doesn’t change the fact that his rants are annoying. Jeongguk isn’t like that,” he pointed out.

“Ah yes, I remember him,” You chuckled. “Cute kid. Though he ran off when he bumped into me once.”

“Must have been your charming smile,” Yoongi taunted with a sarcastic smirk as you sneered at him in irritation. “Perhaps stop glaring at everyone you see?”

“I did not glare at him, thank you very much,” You sniffed in a dismissive manner. “I hardly did anything before he squeaked out an apology and ran as if a Hungarian Horntail was after him.”

“And there you have Jeongguk for you,” he smiled in amusement at the picture of the fifth-year Ravenclaw running off at the sight of you. “Maybe you should stop being so intimidating.”

You stared blankly at him. “Says you.”

“I’m pretty certain people don’t run away from me in fear.”

“Fear makes people respect you,” You replied as you gathered all your parchments in a neat pile to take back with you to the common room.

“I’m sure that’s what Voldemort thought as well,” he mused.

“Whatever,” Scoffing, you stood up with an almost sassy quality to the way you propped your hips out to the side staring down at him. “You don’t see me planning to take over the Wizarding World now, do you? Too much of a hazard.”

Yoongi raised his eyebrows, half smirk on his lips. “How would I know? You could be conspiring up a plan as we speak.”

“Funny,” A blank statement coming from you. “Well you’re starting to annoy me, so I’m leaving.”

With those words, you turned around with your things and walked away. 

“You’re welcome!” he called after you. 

Walking out of the library you headed towards the dungeons People from other houses might find the lower levels of the castle uncomfortable and a hint creepy. But you found comfort in the dim lights and darkened hallways. After going through them every day for the past seven years, you do get used to it. 

But the cool air reminded you too much of your home with your parents which sent unwanted shivers across your skin. 

With a mutter of the password in front of the entrance, it swung open allowing you inside. It was mostly empty, seeing how it was Sunday after all. And most people were probably still hanging around at Hogsmeade before classes started again in the morning. 

But a particular figure lounging on the black leather couch in front of the fire caught your attention. You walked over and plopped down on the couch beside him as you put your things on the table in front of you. He didn’t even acknowledge your existence as you looked at him. 

“What’s with the face?” You asked. 

Liam Parkinson let out a dramatic sigh as he leaned further back on the couch, looking positively devastated.

Or at least he tried to. You knew the guy far too well to know when he was playing it up. 

“I’m being dumped by my two best friends...” he muttered miserably. 

“What did they do?” You questioned while your lips twitched. 

“Hanging out with their girlfriends is what.” He was actually sulking, dear Merlin. “Leaving me all alone.”

“Wait, I thought Albus and that Jordan girl broke up before summer?” You said confused. 

“They did,” Liam agreed. “But apparently they contacted each other again during the break and are trying to ‘figure things out’.” He said in question marks. “Whatever that bloody means.”

You noticed how bitter those words sounded as you suppressed a laugh.  

“Awe, come on now Parkinson,” you cooed teasingly and threw an arm around his shoulders. “I’ll tell Albus of your heartbreak.”

He glared. “You’re a cunt, you know that?”

“I’ve heard worse,” You shrugged nonchalantly. 

“You know, I haven’t snogged anyone in over six months,” Liam told you like it was the most scandalous event to exist. 

“I’m sorry to hear that?”

“Yeah, so am I!” he nodded his head vigorously. 

“What, no French girls that caught your attention?” Referring to his trip to France with his family during the summer break.

“None...” he grumbled, before suddenly perking up again. Suddenly his face was uncomfortably close to yours as you stared at him weirdly. 

“Snog me, Y/N.”

You simply scoffed as you put a finger on his forehead and pushed him away. 

“I’m not gonna snog you, Parkinson.” 

“Why not?” Liam whined out. 

“I don’t go around kissing friends.”

“Isn’t that what friends are for?” He pointed out as you arched an eyebrow. 

“Not when it comes to your intimate needs.”

“Is this because of Min?” 

You paused for a moment. “What about him?”

“I mean you have been spending awfully a lot of time with him,” Liam pointed out. 

“It’s not like I seek him out.” It wasn’t your fault the castle was awfully small these days. “We just happen to cross paths a lot. We’re in the same house and year.”

“Still,” Your friend shrugged. “Why now? You’ve had six years to talk to him.”

You only shook your head in a dismissive way and didn’t bother to reply. 

The truth was that you didn’t have an answer for him. 

You wondered yourself; Why now?

+

The Great Hall was pretty vacant on a Wednesday afternoon. Many still in their last class for the day, while others were lucky enough to have a free period before dinner and chose to spend the time outside before winter drew closer. 

Yoongi was counted as one of the lucky ones as he sat by the long table, his friends of the same age sitting on either side of him.

Namjoon was busy scribbling down notes from a Transfiguration book, his black-rimmed glasses pushed to the bridge of his nose, while Hoseok was staring out into space, absently making a napkin float in the air with his wand. They only missed Seokjin from the same year who was a Gryffindor, but he was too busy with Quidditch practice to be with them.

The boys had three other friends in their close-knit group. But they were younger than them, so classes were scheduled differently.

Yoongi himself wasn’t doing much as he sat there silently reading a book he didn’t even remember the plot of. He must have spaced off some time ago as he read the same sentence over and over again.

A screech pulled him out of his daydreaming, and he looked up to see a familiar black owl swooping towards him. The bird elegantly settled itself on the table in front of him with a letter in its beak.

Taking it, Yoongi gave an affectionate scratch on top of his head. “Thanks, Hades.”

With another sharp squeak, the owl opened its wings and flew back out.

Yoongi looked down at the envelope and let out a sigh as he recognized the rich and thick parchment.

“Another one?” Hoseok’s voice asked him sympathetically.

“Yeah,” the Slytherin only said while he ripped open the dark purple wax seal.

Yoongi.

Your father and I trust that your studies are going well. Keep a reminder that this is your last chance for the highest grades if you have ever cared about your future. We will be visiting your cousin for Christmas - she is getting married to a very high standing officer within the Ministry of East Asia. You should learn something from her. 

Nevertheless, you’ll have to remain at Hogwarts this year. And do not think I have forgotten about your childish decision to drop the Prefect position without consulting us. You will go through with this marriage, which will only benefit our family. So stop being selfish and think of our family for once. 

Do try to keep your distance from those of lesser positions, my dear. We wouldn’t want to taint this arrangement anymore than necessary.

Mother. 

His eyes scanned over the elegant writing of his mother, for each sentence his jaw tightened in annoyance and frustration. The letter was finished with the familiar seal of his family. As if it was some kind of formal greeting instead of just a message to her son.

After finishing it, he threw it on the table as Hoseok reached out for the parchment to see for himself. 

“Is she still going on about that engagement?” Namjoon then spoke up, attention never pulled away from his scribbling. 

“Seems like I have no choice anymore,” Yoongi grumbled out his reply with dark eyes. 

He heard a scoff to his side and glanced over at his Hufflepuff friend. “And she never forgets to remind you to keep away from mudbloods and blood traitors, I see,” he did air quotations as he said the terms, not even the slightest bothered even if he knew a part of it was directed to him. 

“You know my mother’s obsession with blood purity,” Yoongi could only shake his head in shame at that. 

“Do you know who the family is?” Namjoon cut in, changing the subject. 

“Of the bride? No idea. They haven’t even told me who they’re considering. Knowing them it’s probably some pureblood snob from a powerful family.”

“They can’t actually force you, can they?” Hoseok asked in disbelief. “I mean it’s your life!”

“If only it was that easy, mate,” He sighed, now suddenly feeling the weight of the whole situation resting on his shoulders. 

“Why, you’re already seventeen. There’s nothing they can do,” the Hufflepuff countered fiercely.

“Technically they can’t,” Namjoon said, closing his book gently, back straightening, and both knew he was about to come with another intellectual fact of his. “But you also have to remember that without contact with his family, Yoongi wouldn’t have anything to live on. His Gringotts account is connected to his family name. So if he were to just drop it all and run away, it would be futile.”

“He has us!” Hoseok argued. “It’s not like we would let our friend roam around without money.”

“I wouldn’t let you,” Yoongi then snapped, before taking a deep breath. “As much as I despise my blood, I’m not going to spit on my pride and borrow money from any of you.”

“Then what are you going to do?” His friend asked with a look. “You’re not just going to let them ship you off to some unknown girl?”

“I’m pretty sure it’s the girl that’s coming to him. If we account for the misogynistic traits of pureblood families.” Namjoon decided to correct, as both of the men present rolled their eyes. 

“I don’t know,” Yoongi admitted. “But if there’s one thing I’m sure of, it's that I’m not getting married anytime soon.”

“Is that why you dropped out of the prefect position?” Hoseok asked, finally bringing up the subject their whole group had been curious about ever since the term started. “Because of the arrangement?”

“Just a last attempt at trying to persuade my mother. Didn’t exactly work,” Yoongi scoffed, remembering back to his last desperate attempt to try and change his parent's mind. 

When he had first gotten Prefect in his fifth year, Yoongi could admit that he had been quite proud. He was raised to become a great leader and at that time was still under the influence of his parents' larger-than-life ambitions for him. Luckily it wasn’t like that anymore and he was his own person now. Though a person is still chained to his family name. 

“Since when did you and Greengrass get close?” Namjoon suddenly asked. “My girl says she’s quite scary.”

“Your girl?” Hoseok repeated amused, leaning forward in interest. “You mean the girl you met in the library? I thought that was just a one-time thing. How does she even know Greengrass?”

The Ravenclaw shrugged, though there was a visible blush slowly spreading on his cheeks. “We just started to hang out and things changed. Besides, she's a Slytherin as well.”

“The girl who dyed my hair pink?” Yoongi deadpanned as both of his friends snorted at the reminder. 

“I thought you quite liked the look,” Hoseok smirked mischievously. 

“I was just too lazy to change it.'' The older male defended himself, even though he had spent the rest of the semester wearing the shocking color. “And we’re just talking, it’s not that big of a deal.”

Hoseok and Namjoon exchanged glances without the knowledge of their other friend. 

“What if she’s the one you’re arranged to marry?” Namjoon joked. 

“Hah! That would be something,” Hoseok laughed before high-fiving him. 

Yoongi rolled his eyes at the antics of friends. “You’re both insane.”

Yet a part of him whispered almost tauntingly, but what if?

He brushed it away quickly. 

+

Staring up at the black iron gates that separated you from your house caused you to heave out a tired sigh. The feeling of the impending doom somehow wouldn’t go away. 

You had been called up to the headmistress’ office on a whim while you were on your way to the Great Hall for some dinner. Apparently, there had been an urgent message coming from your mother demanding your presence back at the manor for the evening. 

Knowing your mother, you knew she was probably just being overdramatic about something that didn’t have to do with you but still wanted to have you there for just one reason; they were having guests over and wanted to give the overall false image of a happy and complete family. 

The entire idea of having to play pretend with your parents and obnoxious sister made you want to spend the night in Azkaban instead because your youngest brother had not been called him. 

Taking out your wand, you waved it in front of you as the protective shield identified you as one of the residents before flickering away for a moment to allow you access. The metal gates ground open as you made your way down the path to your house.

After stepping inside and closing the door behind you, you remained silent for a couple of seconds, trying to detect the sounds of chattering coming from the dining room - but there were none. 

Sighing again, you realized you had unfortunately managed to arrive before the guests had. 

“Y/N is that you?”

Before you had the chance to even think about escaping, your mother suddenly came from the direction of the library as she spotted you.

“Merlin, how slow can you be with a portkey at your disposal?” She shook her head before grabbing your shoulders and pushing you into the direction of the living room, her nails digging uncomfortably into your skin. 

“No one told me anything,” You defended yourself before shaking off her hold and walking the rest of the distance yourself. 

“That doesn’t matter now. You’re late and have no time to change and make yourself presentable,” she scowled in reply.

The only people in the living room were your father and sister, both looking presentable and clean - like a pureblood family should look. You stood out from your family’s pristine and overpriced robes being dressed in your Hogwarts uniform. 

You felt your father scan you from head to toe with his chilling and disapproving gaze as you avoided looking at him. You also noticed how your sister just wasn’t looking presentable. She had dressed up more than usual, adorning a velvet emerald green dress that flared out from her waist and to her knees, the sleeves stopping at her elbows with a sweetheart neckline. 

Something was definitely going on. 

“Who are we waiting for?” You dared to question your family in the room. 

Your mother rolled her eyes as if expecting you to know the answer already and guilt-tripping you for not being more involved in family affairs. 

“Your sister’s fiance and his family are coming for a visit, how could you forget?” She tsked. 

Ah, the so-called arranged marriage that you had heard about for the past couple of months. You didn’t know about the family or the guy, but they were obviously wealthy enough for your parents to look their best. 

And how were you supposed to know that it was today?

“Then why am I here? I’m not the one getting married,” You responded slightly annoyed. 

“Y/N, stop being rude and behave yourself!” Your father snapped in reply as you flinched back. “I expect you to be on your best behavior tonight. No foolish remarks, understood?”

With a clench of your fists, you nodded mutely, not offering any words in fear of your anger showing and making him even more pissy. Your sister simply scoffed before smoothing her hands down the fabric of her dress with an excited glint in her eyes. 

“Mother, do you think he’ll like me?” She asked with the voice of an innocent girl as you resisted the urge to show your irritation. 

“Of course he will, darling!” Your mother cooed, patting down her hair gently. “Any man would be a fool not to like you.”

“We’ll see about that,” You muttered to yourself as your sibling heard and sent you a fleeting glare while you smirked in reply. 

It was at that moment that the flames of your fireplace rose up high and turned green as your family all waited for the guests. The first one to step out was a man. He was smaller than your father in his height and had a bit of a belly prodding out. His hair was black and slicked back and his looks were East Asian. Korean at the looks of things. 

A woman came out next. Small and petite, but with a stern gaze that calculated if you were worthy to be in her presence or not. They were both dressed in expensive clothes, with sparkling pearls adorning the neck of the woman, and a golden watch on the wrist of the man. 

“Dong Wook, Yoon Hee! So good to see you two again!” Your mother went forward to greet both of them enthusiastically, your father following her lead, though a lot more subdued and only offering polite handshakes. You were pretty certain your mother had butchered their names though, holding back a snort. 

“Ah yes, it has been quite a while,” the woman, Yoon Hee, replied calmly with a stiff smile. She reminded you of a statue.

“We are looking forward to this union as much as you are,” The man spoke up, a slight accent in his voice. 

“Of course - where is your son?” Blaise Zabini asked the other couple. 

As you waited uninterested for the supposed husband to arrive, you didn’t offer to introduce yourself and instead kept silent in the background. 

“He was just behind u - oh here he comes.”

Simply being curious by nature, you came a bit closer to the huddling group to get a good look at the guy your sister was to marry. 

It wasn’t someone you expected to see. 

+

He was frozen. 

Not only that, but he was completely speechless as well. 

Min Yoongi was frozen and speechless. And it wasn’t often that someone managed to render him to that state.

He didn’t know what he was expecting when he stepped out of the flames. 

A posh-looking family dressed in their finest robes ready to impress his family? That’s exactly what he got. But the addition of you standing next to them in your Hogwarts uniform definitely caught him off guard for a moment.

But it was just that. A single moment.

He couldn’t let his parents see his slip-up.

But he wanted to laugh. Not only laugh but actually cackle at the fucking irony after his conversation with his friends in the Great Hall. A small bloody world, indeed. 

And by the look of things, it wasn’t you who was assigned as his bride-to-be. Rather your sister, who looked far too excited for his taste.

Yoongi remained silent as he stayed behind his parents, still easily seen because of his superior height in comparison to them. He simply offered a polite nod and tense smile to the three Greengrass family members, who seemed determined to keep the pleasant conversation flowing between them and his parents. 

But he couldn’t help his gaze from straying to where you stood. Several times actually.

It was obvious you were the odd one out. Not just because of your clothing. The distance you kept was fairly obvious, and your facial expressions told him that you’d rather be anywhere else right now. 

The next time he glanced at you again, he was fairly embarrassed to see you already looking at him.

You were arching your eyebrow up in an expression that obviously asked: “Thought I didn’t notice?”

“Yoongi, why don’t you let your fiancé give you a tour of the house and get to know each other?” His mother suggested, sounding pleasantly polite, but her eyes that stared at him told him he had no other choice. 

“Of course, you two go on then,” Mrs. Greengrass agreed and ushered her eldest daughter to his side. 

Just as he was about to follow her out of the room, he heard your voice speak up in the most polite tone he had ever experienced from you. 

“Then you wouldn’t mind if I took my leave then, mother?”

Yoongi only managed to catch a glimpse of the expression on your parent's faces, but it wasn't good. 

“Why don’t you join them?” His father suddenly spoke up. “Y/N was it?”

You nodded. “Yes sir.”

“Manners,” he nodded approvingly. “We’re to be family, after all, you should join them.”

Your eyes flickered to where he stood and the clear reluctance in them made him have to smother his chuckle into a small cough. 

“But they’re to be married, shouldn’t the two of them spend the time together?” Your mother argued back, voice strained and trying to remain courteous. 

Yoongi’s mother shrugged. “Like my husband said, we are to be family after all. And they’ll have more than enough time to get to know each other during their marriage.” The finality in her words was obvious as Mrs. Greengrass simply nodded. 

He saw you nodding at his parents with a strained smile before making your way over to where he stood with your sister, her hands already holding onto his arm impatiently. 

When the three of you got out of the dining hall and out of hearing range of the adults, his fiancé - which he still didn’t know the name of - was quick to speak up. 

“Couldn’t you just have remained silent, Y/N?” She spoke to you in annoyance as you sent her a sarcastic smile. 

“I couldn’t exactly say no either, Isla ” you retorted from the other side of him. 

Ah, so that was her name. 

“You did that on purpose didn’t you?” Isla, now glared. 

You never let lost the, frankly, malicious expression. “Oh yes, because third wheeling on you and your fiancé’s awkward first meeting was my ultimate goal.”

“That’s a bit offensive, how would you know if I’m awkward” Yoongi finally spoke up after arriving, sniggering like a five-year-old at the look you sent him. 

“It’s not offensive if it’s true,” You replied with a careless shrug. “And I do know you. You might think you’re a smooth talker, but this screams awkwardness.”

“Aren’t you being a bit too cocky right now?” He arched an eyebrow. “We are to be family, after all, sister.”

Your face scrunched up at the word as you punched him in the arm. “That’s disgusting, don’t call me that.”

Yoongi had stumbled slightly to the side, letting out a short laugh at your expression. 

“What the bloody hell is going on?”

Both of you stopped and turned to look at Isla, who was looking somewhat confused and angry at the same time. 

“What?” You asked her. 

“You two know each other?”

“Isn’t that quite obvious?” Yoongi drawled in reply, looking at her blankly.

“We’re in the same house and year, how do you expect us not to know each other?” You felt the need to clarify for your sister. 

“Why do you always have to ruin things for me, Y/N?” Isla sneered. 

“News flash, darling,” You returned it. “The world doesn’t revolve around you.” 

Rather than replying, Isla simply huffed, grabbing his arm again and pulling him along rather forcefully as Yoongi simply let her. Not a single part of him had been interested or engaged in today’s meeting. But with your presence at his back, following them leisurely, he couldn’t help but be slightly more present with how things would turn out. 

Yoongi hardly paid attention every time Isla spoke and pointed out something of the Greengrass Manor as they walked through the dark, cold halls. He hummed here and there to keep up the pretense of giving a shit, and he knew you knew it as well with your scoffs and snorts now and then as your sister thought she was saying something interesting. They must have walked through a part where your bedroom was located, because he noticed your presence behind him suddenly ducking into a door to Isla’s ignorance, and he took his chance.

“Do you mind pointing me towards the bathroom?” Yoongi kept his voice neutral, and she was more than happy to. “I’ll meet you downstairs with the others, this might take a while.” This time he sugarcoated a bit of a charming smile to convince her to leave, and it worked. 

He waited a few seconds before coming back out and saw the hall empty, making his way towards the door you had slipped into, noticing how it was a smidge open. With a simple push of his hand, it opened with a quiet creak and he took in the spacious space curiously. Decorated after your taste in shades of dark burgundy and browns, a contrast to the rest of the house. But the chilly air remained. 

“Find anything you like?” 

His eyes snapped to your form lounging on a reading nook right by the large windows seeing out into the vast estate gardens, it being pitch black outside. You were leaning against a heap of pillows, a blanket loosely pulled over your bare legs in the uniform. 

“You snuck away, so I was worried.”

“Worried, or curious?” 

Yoongi offered a half-hearted tug of his lips. “Does it matter?”

“I guess not.” You glanced at him again, taking in his form leaning against the doorway casually. “You can come in, you know.”

“Didn’t want to risk getting hexed, is all.”

“If I wanted to hex you, I would have done it in the compartment.”

“Fair enough.”

Walking inside the room leisurely, he couldn’t help but feel like you were offering him a glimpse of your true self. It was decorated in a way to try and chase away the coldness of the house and your family itself, with colours that reminded him of Gryffindors rather than that of a snake in the dungeons. 

You shifted slightly, and he took the silent invitation to sit down beside you on the wide, pillowed window seat, a few inches of space between you. 

“So? Marriage, huh.”

“Still in talks,” Yoongi mused mysteriously. 

“You obviously don’t want to.”

“Hm, was it my expression that gave it away?” You rolled your eyes at his sarcastic remark, kicking a foot against his thigh. He simply chuckled. 

“Were you even aware?”

“Sure, been for a while. But I never knew who.”

“What’s your verdict?”

His brown eyes met yours, almost with a sparkle in the dim lighting of your room. “That I’m not the only one with family issues.”

You both shared a laugh at the truth of that. 

“That’s to put it lightly.”

“How about you? No prospects set up in your future?”

“Merlin, no.” You scoffed, an almost ironic chuckle following. “My parents would never offer me up to anyone. I’m too…risky. Stubborn and prideful too. They’ve given up on my romantic life and only care about the career aspect of it.”

“I wish that was me.” Yoongi shifted closer, his thigh touching your stocking-covered feet, shoes already on the hardwood floor. 

As if testing the waters of your strange friendship with him, you stretched your legs lightly only to rest them across his lap, and he turned an amused gaze towards you at the action but didn’t push them off. 

“You don’t mind, do you?” Your voice was teasing as he shook his head. 

“You want a foot massage at that too, Greengrass?”

“If you’re offering-” Your words cut off in a slight squeal as his fingers tickled the underside of it. “Stop it!”

Luckily he did, but not before grinning mischievously, instead resting his hands on your calves surprisingly relaxed. This was the closest the two of you had ever been in the last two months since the train, a strange yet not-so-abnormal development. 

“We should probably get back down before they start looking.”

Yoongi hummed, agreeing to your statement. “We should.” Yet he didn’t bother moving.

Looking up from your lap you were surprised to him already staring at you. Or observing might be the better word, because there was no hiding the curiosity shining in those, frankly, hypnotizing brown eyes. 

Licking your dry lips, his eyes flickered down to the motion as you clicked your tongue almost smugly. “Anything interesting to see?”

Your body stiffened unexpectedly at the warmth of his surprisingly large hands curling around your calves, his lean body leaning forward with a small, suspicious smile. “If I didn’t know any better, I would think you were trying to seduce me, Greengrass.”

Flicking up a brow, you kept your nonchalant attitude. “And if I was?”

“That would be quite the scandal, wouldn’t it?” He kept his voice low, lower than his natural voice which was already deep enough to sometimes grate against your skin. “I’m to be your future brother-in-law after all.”

“Thought you weren’t interested in marriage?” You couldn’t help but goat him further, straightening in your lounged position against the pillows that drifted you further towards him. 

“Would still cause a scandal.”

“I don’t peg you for someone who gives a shit,” Your blunt words were rewarded with a huff of his low laugh as you swallowed. Were you nervous? 

“Well, now you’re just tempting me,” Yoongi’s dark eyes were dangerously intense, looking you over as if you wore something much more interesting than the rumpled Hogwarts uniform. 

“Tempting you?” You repeated, not managing to keep your laughter at bay, lips slightly pulling back and revealing your teeth in a small grin. “Didn’t know I was someone able to tempt you.”

His surprise this time seemed to be genuine. “Are you serious?”

Your arms crossed almost defensively. “What?”

“You don’t think guys are interested in you?”

“I didn’t say that,” You replied calmly. “Even so, they hardly make the effort to let me know they’re interested.”

“I told you, it’s the evil smirk and glare you always waltz around with.”

You kicked his leg again in retaliation, as Yoongi laughed, managing to grab a hold of it and tug you forward surprisingly quickly for his lazy demeanor, your thighs now resting sideways on his lap. 

“You are a menace,” You muttered, no real ire in the words, gaze flickering back up to his. 

He was thinking about something, or considering it. That much was obvious to your keen eyes, but you weren’t sure of the specifics. “What is it?”

“What do you mean?” He sounded a bit too relaxed, however. 

“You’re thinking awfully hard about something,” You pointed out almost a little bit too obnoxiously. It didn’t seem to bother him. 

His tongue dragged along the inside of his lower lip as he gave himself just a couple seconds to debate saying what immediately came to mind. 

“I’m thinking of kissing you.” 

Your breath caught, throat seemingly drying up at the bold admission. Your widened eyes taking him in and expecting a joke to follow the words. But he remained scarily serious, lips never twitching up into a smile, only taking in your reaction carefully.

Bloody hell, he was being serious.

As if opening some secret door in your mind, your eyes really took him in this time around. Starting from his immaculate black clothes to his hands and ending at his face, his surprisingly soft-looking lips capturing your attention. 

“That’s…certainly interesting,” You croaked, not managing anything else.

Those mesmerizing pink lips pulled up into the hint of a smirk, feeling much closer than before. “Is it?”

“Scandalous, actually,” You whispered nearly dazed, before managing to look into his eyes again. 

Shit, he was close. Suddenly comprehending the warmth of his hands placed on your thighs above your skirt, the blanket having somehow slipped to the floor and his face only inches away from your own. 

“Very scandalous,” Yoongi hummed, a low sound that you enjoyed more than you cared to admit. “But tempting, no?”

He was getting closer, only a whisper of a breath away from yourself. His breath was fresh, probably having brushed his teeth before arriving with the smell of his spicy, yet tantalizing cologne tickling your nose. 

“They could kill us for this.” There was no secret who they were, with both of your families still waiting downstairs, oblivious to the thoughts both of you were having in the privacy of your room.

"Your best friend is Albus Potter. I'm sure he can convince his father to spare us from the wrath of our uptight parents."

His joke hardly helped.

Your attention was suddenly reminded of the still open door, but before you could say anything it gently flicked shut with a wave of Yoongi’s wand and a murmur of a spell, which you recognized as a silencing spell as well as a detection one just in case.

“Are you afraid?” His whisper ghosted over your skin, the familiar hint of your defiance returning to his satisfaction, scoffing and giving a look of ‘Really?’

He continued, aware of his selfish desires as his goading continued, but not caring enough about the consequences to stop. “What’s stopping you then?”

You took a deep breath as if trying to calm yourself. But the moment you opened your eyes again, Yoongi knew you had decided as a brow flicked up in expectation. 

“Is it ladies first in this situation then?”

With a grin he hardly noticed on himself, Yoongi surged forward with a hand cupping your cheek as he pulled your lips against his firmly, a breath whooshing out of your nose at the action. There was no hesitation on his part as he pulled one of your legs over his hips and switching your positions so you straddled him. 

Your hands traveled up his nape and curled into the strands of his hair as your mouth opened to return the intense kiss. His tongue licked into your own, as he let out a sigh of relief almost, your heart thundering inside your ribcage, wanting to be closer to him, as you did just that. 

Bodies flush against each other you returned his kiss enthusiastically. Feeling his hands slipping underneath the untucked shirt, your breath hitched. 

Yoongi couldn’t help but wonder what other sounds he could get you make. Your fingers combed their way into the back of his hair, carding through the soft strands of it as he gripped at your hips. One hand dragged heavily up your spine, guiding you to arch further forward and against him.

A protest lay ready on your lips as you felt him pull back, only to turn into a soft moan as his lips traveled down your jaw and the sensitive skin of your neck, head tilting to the side to give him more access. 

Actually, you wanted him to continue his kisses exactly there, finger tightened and trying to hold him there in light demand, as Yoongi chuckled against you, teeth nipping gently in response. 

His mouth returned to yours, intense kisses turning slightly more desperate for you as you shifted, hips rising and aligned with his own before grinding down to chase after the heat that had taken over your body, one place specifically flaring for attention. 

He groaned lightly, body leaning back to give you more access this time around, and you continued the slow roll of your hips, skirt bunching around your waist as his hands left your hips and trailed down the sides of your thighs, the stinging cold of his silver ring following that you hadn’t noticed. 

You felt him hardening quickly beneath your ministrations. But it was affecting you more than him, with only the barrier of your knickers separating your throbbing clit compared to the material of his slacks as well as underwear. 

“Fuck, you’re driving me crazy.” Yoongi murmured softly, finally finding the strength to pull back from your tempting lips. 

“Don’t you dare stop, Min Yoongi,” You breathed out harshly. 

“Oh yeah? Is that a demand, love?” He had the fucking audacity to smile at you, innocently at that, as if he didn’t know what you were going through, his hands cupping the cheeks of your arse and holding you tightly against him.  

With another pointed grind of your hips, you watched in satisfaction as his eyes nearly rolled back in his head with a grunt before fluttering back open, but only making the want in you even needier, your desperate want for him flaring even more. 

With an almost vicious tug of your fingers in his hair to tilt his head back, he hissed at the pinches of pain as you leaned forward to murmur against his ear. “If you do not make me come before leaving this room, I will hex you into oblivion.”

With a hoarse laugh coming from the back of his throat, Yoongi returned to pressing wet kisses against the side of your neck. “You could have just asked, Greengrass.”

He didn’t give you a warning until you felt one of his hands sneakily slip to the front and pull your knickers to the side as his thumb found your swollen clit embarrassingly quickly. Your breath hitched due to your sensitivity before easing out into a moan as he started circling the nub, your hips twitching and rolling slowly as if following the motion.

“So responsive,” Yoongi hummed in satisfaction, gaze locked onto your expression to watch your response to every move of his fingers. 

You felt him slide them between your cunt, finding your wet entrance as he slowly pushed a single, long finger inside, never stopping his torturous, slow circling. Your hands found the nape of his neck, gripping almost too tight. 

“Fuck, stop teasing me,” You begged, practically draped over his body, sweat coating your skin underneath the white blouse. “Please.”

Grappling around to find his face, you pressed your lips desperately against his, trading slow open-mouthed kisses as he continued his dance against your clit while pushing a second finger inside your squelching cunt. 

Your moans started breaking up, hips quickening and trying to chase that building feeling of completion, but his other hand which gripped your hip tightened, pulling you to a stop. 

“If I had known how wet you get for me I would have fucked you sooner,” It was Yoongi’s turn to exhale harshly, your pleasure seemingly affecting himself as his fingers sped up, pulling a long whine from you as your blunt nails dug into his skin. 

Yoongi didn’t seem to mind. 

He felt it coming, the way your whole body was starting to tense up, your continued whisper begging him not to stop, your thighs nearly caging him in as he listened gladly, face tugging into the crook of your neck as his own arousal was throbbing beneath his clothes. 

The moment his thumb pressed down against your swollen nub, you came with a shuddering moan, your walls clamping down on his fingers and pulsing as your thighs shook. His circling slowed down, helping you through your high until you stilled above him, breathing harshly and wiggling to make him stop. 

Listening to the silent demand, he made sure you were watching him as he pulled his fingers out and lifted them to his mouth, sucking your essence off as your half-hooded gaze followed the movement. 

“Delectable,” Yoongi grinned, watching the addicting way you ducked your head in embarrassment, a new emotion coming from you. 

As if realizing what had just occurred, you nearly jumped off him, but stumbled to the side from being seated so long, his clean hand coming up to balance you as your skirt fell back down to cover you. 

Glancing in the mirror, you were shocked at how thoroughly fucked you look. Hair slightly frizzled, clothes askew, and your skin flushed down to your neck. Yoongi couldn’t look more satisfied, leaning back on his hands and taking in your appearance with a quick scourgify charm and cleaning you both up. 

“Stop looking so…smug!” You couldn’t help but huff. 

“Can’t help it,” He grinned again, an expression he offered you much more freely now. “I asked for a kiss but you gave me something much more, love.”

“You started it.” Was your mature reply. 

“And I don’t regret it.”

“Bloody hell!” You cursed, suddenly reminded where the two of you were, and spun around to look at the clock. Fifteen minutes. 

“We need to go.”

For once he nodded in agreement. “You go first. Find some excuse that I’m in the library or something and I’ll be there soon enough.”

Your eyes narrowed. “Excuse me? Why are you not coming?”

As if talking to a child, you followed his pointed gaze towards his lap at the bulging evidence as your mouth parted in realization, a cough scratching against your throat. 

“Right, that’s…my fault. But you are not jacking off in my room!”

Yoongi simply laughed. “I’m not gonna jack off, Greengrass. I only need a few minutes to calm down. Go ahead, alright.”

With another suspicious glance, you relented. 

“Fine.” 

Walking briskly out of your bedroom after making sure everything looked alright, a part of didn’t deny the urge to run away from the bizarre situation that just happened between you two. 

So much that you nearly begged your parents to let you go back to Hogwarts for the evening, in the middle of their tea time before dinner. They let you, luckily. And with a tense goodbye to the Min’s, you rushed out of the dark manor as if fire was licking at your heels, vanishing with the portkey outside the iron gates.

+ 

Min Yoongi was avoiding you. 

An irritating discovery that made the anger in you boil over. 

A strange moment occurred in the common room one night as you stepped inside between Scorpius and Albus to see the man sitting in the leather armchair by the fireplace, only to stand up and leave the moment he caught your eye with a flat expression. 

Obviously, you had expected him to seek you out after your quick retreat from the manor, but that was simply due to the fact you didn’t feel like being in a room of your family after having been finger fucked to oblivion by the one person they wanted as a son-in-law for your sister. 

So you had waited, tensely at that, for days for him to find you. Days went by until you managed to see the first sight of in in the Great Hall with his usual friends. But he had ignored you, or simply not paid attention. 

The second time had been in the halls of your classes, with him coming from the opposite way. But he had been engrossed in a conversation with his Gryffindor friend to the point you were unsure if he had even noticed you. 

It wasn’t until the third time in the common room that you knew for sure the bastard was avoiding you. And you had no bloody clue why, because you weren’t the one to initiate the kiss and cross the line the two of you had drawn. 

It was him. So his mess to clear up, and not yours. 

By the second week of no communication besides exchanged glares from your part, and empty looks from him, you’ve had enough. 

You had a free period - lo and behold, so did he. He was sitting in the Great Hall, surrounded by all of his friends, listening silently as they spoke animately around him. 

Everything silenced, however, the moment you stopped behind him, hands on your hips as you stared daggers into him. Yoongi had the nerve to not turn around and face you, despite being aware of you there. 

“Can I help you, Greengrass?” He simply drawled uninterested, igniting the cribbling irritation you were already feeling. 

“We need to talk,” You grinded out, ignoring the obvious looks his friends were exchanging between themselves. 

“About what?”

“You know what!” Was your snap. Ready with another pissed-off retort, he finally heaved heavily before standing up and stepping over the bench. His slightly superior height over yourself added to your anger, as he tilted head in expectation. 

“After you.”

With a glare you lead the way out of the Hall, going until the end of the long hallway and underneath a hidden alcove many didn’t pay attention to. Turning around with arms crossed over your chest, Yoongi leaned back against the stone walls with a bored expression. 

“What the fuck is your problem?”

He didn’t react, only offering you a glance of attention. “Don’t tell me you expected anything?”

“What?”

“It was a bit of fun, Greengrass. Hardly need for a deep conversation after.”

The bloody nerve of him. 

“How dare you!” You spit out, the harshness of those words actually catching his attention. “How fucking dare you. Tricking me, using me for my body and only to avoid me after?”

Guilt flashed in his eyes, of how this situation felt for you as a woman. But it disappeared quickly after, as he steeled himself yet again, features falling flat. “I’m sorry that you feel that way, but that isn’t why I’m avoiding you.”

“Then why?”

“I’m your sister’s fianceé, remember,” He delivered coldly. “If the family knows what we did it will ruin both of our reputations.”

“You know I don’t give a fuck of my reputation!” You shook your head in near dizziness, gesturing between you almost wildly. “I’m trying to fix this friendship.”

“It was a bad idea to begin with. We’re to be family after all. Can’t have us fucking secretly in broom cupboards now, do we?” His crass words somehow managed to make you flinch, the prospective shame of being viewed as the secret sidepiece to your sister’s husband. 

This whiplash of a change in his behavior was slowly drawing your energy. Two weeks ago he had told you there was no marriage if he could stop it, and now he had seemingly already settled into the future role of a pureblood husband. 

Despite only having known each other for nearly three months, you had figured him out fairly quick. He was cold in his interactions with others, and borderline bored. But you had seen him with his friends.

And you.

That gentle smile, teasing quick of his smirk or rare bright grin whenever he truly let himself go without fear of being judged. 

He was a man who cared deeply but hid it beneath an exterior of aloofness and severity due to the demands of his family and expectations of the world. Something the two of you shared, and been able to understand from each other. 

Yoongi was someone who had become dear to you in a short amount of time, even to the surprise of your own friends - who had watched the development in fascination. 

You thought he at least had the decency to feel the same about you. If not a potential lover, then at least a respected friend. 

Brushing his slightly parted black hair back with a hand, he rove another expected gaze over you with a sigh. “If we’re done here-”

“Why do you keep shutting me out?” You spat out in anger, stopping him in his tracks to turn around and walk away. 

His back was tense underneath the black school robe. From your view, you saw how he clenched his teeth to refrain from saying something he would regret. Not that he hadn’t already. Only lucky that you could take a biter fiercer than anyone else. But you didn’t care about filter at the moment. You would be damned if you let him walk away from you without a clear explanation of his change of personality. 

“I said it’s none of your business!” he snapped in return, the first time to raise his voice at you. 

You didn’t bother to hide the scoff coming out of you. “Well, you made it my bloody business the moment you spoke to me!”

Yoongi still didn’t bother to turn around and face you, so you could only see his side profile. Your eyes trailed down to his hands that were tightened into fists by his side. Nails digging into his skin creating marks. His black hair was messier than usual like he’d run his fingers through it too many times during the last hour. 

“Bloody hell, Y/N, just leave me alone,” he whipped around to glare at you coldly, mouth pulled up in a sneer. An expression you had seen many times, but jokingly. Never had it been pointed at you, and you nearly flinched at the viciousness of it. 

You resisted the urge to whip out your wand and curse him into oblivion. With a determined mind, you walked up to him and grabbed his wrist tightly. 

As if trying to squeeze some sense back into him. 

He was void of any emotions. Telling you nothing of what he was feeling, his walls up higher than you had ever seen, reminding you of a fortress to never be shaken. 

“You need to stop pushing me away,” You told him in a hard voice. “Not everyone is out to betray or control you. Fuck, I care about you, okay!”

His eyes flickered down to meet your own, but they still remained blank, making the pit in your stomach grow. 

Yoongi pulled his wrist away from your hold. “Stop caring.”

And then he walked away, leaving you standing alone in the hallways of the castle.

+

Christmas came and went.

Your holidays having been spent completely at the Malfoy Manor to your parent’s chagrin.

But you had remained firm in your choice after hearing the Min’s were coming over again with their son to spend more time together for your sister’s benefit. So you had made sure to stay the bloody hell away. 

Min Yoongi had kept to his words since that faithful argument in the hallways, completely ignoring you and acting like you never talked to each other before. Just like it had been the six first years. 

It annoyed you how much you still thought about that heartless bastard. You had done swimmingly well so far until that stupid day on the train. Six years without a single word towards him, yet he had managed to flip your world upside down as if he had been the missing piece in it all along. 

Scorpius had noticed it. Albus had noticed it. For fuck’s sake, even Liam Parkinson who could be as daft as a troll sometimes, noticed it after the argument. 

“So his excuse was that you couldn’t be friends because he’s engaged to your harpy of a sister?” Albus brought it up again one morning during breakfast, the first week back to Hogwarts after the holidays. 

“Yes.” You sighed wearily, at this point having no energy to care anymore. Even though you knew otherwise. 

“Even after he finger fucked you?” Liam deadpanned beside you, as a unanimous groan went through the rest of your friends. 

“That’s disgusting. I don’t need to hear that about my cousin,” Scorpius grimaced, pushing away his nearly demolished plate of scrambled eggs and hashbrowns. 

“You think I have a magical vagina or something, Parkinson?” You flicked up a brow, but Liam being Liam only leaned in with a saucy wink. 

“I could believe it.”

“Merlin, stop it, please.” Albus looked seemingly green from his seat. “You’re basically my sister, so please stop talking.”

“A sister that you made out with last year,” Scorpius muttered loud enough for the group to hear as Albus blushed red to the tip of his ears.

“W-we were drunk!” He argued with a small glare. “I thought we already agreed to let it go.”

“Don’t worry, Al.” With an innocent batter of your eyes, you joined in on the heckling. “You can admit I was a damn good kisser.”

“Shut up.” Throwing a grape in your direction, you simply caught it with a hand before popping it into your mouth with a teasing grin. 

Slinging an arm over your shoulders, Liam sighed almost sadly. “Why does Al get to kiss you, but I don’t?”

Leaning back on a hand, you stared. “You want to kiss right now?” 

He didn’t expect the reply, startling with slightly wide eyes before they narrowed again, detecting the tug of your lips with a waggling finger. 

“You are one sneaky witch.”

“I know,” Sharing a chuckle, all four of you finished breakfast before heading out for a walk in the cold, but sparkling snow-covered grounds warmly wrapped in your scarves and mittens. 

It was a Sunday; everyone was seemingly dead tired after the first week of classes and sleeping beside your group. It was the last year for everyone, so you blamed it on wanting to spend as much time as possible before leaving the castle that had been your home for the last seven years. 

Just as you were about to wrap your green and silver scarf tightly around your neck as the main doors to the grounds came into view, Liam suddenly stood in your path with a suspicious grin. 

“What?” You eyed him slowly.

“From a scale of 1 to 10, how much would you describe your vindictive vendetta against Min? 

Looking to the side to catch the eyes of both Scorpius and Albus, who were obviously biting back smiles themselves, you frowned. 

“What are you babbling on about?”

“Just answer please.”

“I don’t know, 8.5?” The number came to you randomly but seemed realistic enough to describe your feelings.

Liam nodded seriously as if this was some serious discussion. “8.5, certainly very high. High enough for a drastic plan.”

You were confused. Utterly baffled about what he was talking about, simply staring without words to say. 

Then he smirked, but not the kind that you were used to. The one he used to jokingly flirt and try to drag you into stupid situations. This was the smirk you had seen him use against witches enough of times to see them melting at his feet.

However, your wariness only rose. 

“Just don’t hex me, alright?”

“What are you-”

Before you knew it, he grabbed both ends of your scarf and tugged you against him, lips pressing against yours as your eyes widened in shock. 

He leaned back just enough to mutter cheekily. “Just play along.”

Resisting a roll of your eyes, you listened. Letting them flutter shut as his mitten-covered hands came up to cup your cheeks and draw you into the kiss even further. He never used his tongue, only moving his lips against yours which you returned, hands loosely holding onto his waist until he pulled back.

“Hm,” Liam pursed his lips thoughtfully with a nod. “No lie there. Damn good kisser.”

Despite the bizarreness of it, you laughed. 

“That was ridiculous,” Scorpius shook his head, but there was an amused smile playing at his lips. 

“Explain,” You finally demanded. 

It was Albus who came over, grabbing your chin and turning your gaze in the direction of the doors just in time to see the familiar form of Yoongi disappearing from your views. 

Your mouth parted in realization at what Liam had tried to do. 

“You scheming pieces of shit.” Your voice was proud, however, and the boys knew it as they high-fived before pulling you towards the grounds, all of you cackling like idiots.

“Let’s hope things only go up from here, huh,” Liam pulled you into his side while walking, and with a grin you stayed there the entire trip down to Hogsmeade. 

+

You ran into each other not even three days later.

Literally nearly crashing coming from different directions before rounding a corner and you jumped back at the last second. Yoongi had halted as well, startled eyes cooling down swiftly and taking you in before moving to brush past you. 

“How was Christmas?” 

He paused, to your relief. And even replied. “As usual. Nothing interesting despite the dinner.”

“Did your parents leave for Korea?” You remembered him mentioning it in brief passing and how he was supposed to stay at Hogwarts before shit went down at the manor. 

“They did,” A tense nod. “Right after and I returned to school.”

“Ah, right.” Fuck, this was awkward. And ridiculously tense. “I’ll just-”

“And you?”

You were shocked he even bothered to ask. “Good. It’s always a nice time at the Malfoy’s. My aunt Astoria loves Christmas and makes a big deal out of it.”

“The Malfoys, huh.” Yoongi looked like he had eaten something horrid. “I assume Parkinson was there as well?”

Liam? You frowned in confusion, why would he suddenly mention him? “Yeah, he came over for a bit.”

“I see.”

He was acting odd. More than usual. 

Then it went up to you. The kiss from two days ago, that Yoongi had obviously witnessed in his passing and you didn’t even realize. 

You couldn’t stop the chuckle as his brown eyes zeroed in on the sound with narrowed eyes. “What?”

“Nothing,” You shook your head, but your laugh kept spilling out. 

“You obviously find something amusing, Greengrass.”

“You’re the ones who’s amusing.” For the first time in a while, you smiled at him, only briefly, but enough to loosen the tense expression on him. 

“You’re not making sense.”

“Jealousy doesn’t suit you, Min Yoongi.”

He scoffed, cheeks slightly rosy from the winter cold in the halls and skin looking even paler than usual with the white backdrop from outside the large windows. His hair was still black, no new colour this time around, slightly longer in the nape of his neck but not much changed.

“What makes you think I’m jealous?”

“This right now.” You replied simply but decided not to goad him any further. “I guess the engagement is a go?

Yoongi was considering lying, you could see it. The way he didn’t reply right away was enough of a sign. “My parents…haven’t decided if your sister is a good match for me yet.” He admitted slowly. “Due to the dinner during Christmas.”

“Shocking.” You were anything but. 

Your sister might bear the Greengrass and Zabini names, as well as an acceptable desk job at the Ministry, however, she was shallow and childish. Always craving the best, and wanting to appear the best. Traits that people easily looked through within the first few minutes of meeting her, and you doubted the keen eyes of Yoongi’s mother hadn’t seen the same. 

There were negatives to being a pureblood in the presence of other purebloods. It was a competition of judgment and pride. There was never more than trying to see through carefully built walls, being the first one to win. 

And your family, or sister in this matter had clearly lost with impressing the imposing Min family. 

Yoongi was saying they were considering it. But you both knew that was just a polite way of saying they had already decided that Isla Zabini Greengrass was not worth of their name. 

This was also why you assumed he actually gave you time of the day again. There was no impending marriage to your family pinning him down. No way for him to use the excuses he had made to ignore you the past month and a half. 

“You must be happy.”

“It is a relief.” Honesty, wow. Yoongi must really feel bad.

He was tense, ridiculously so, and you almost wanted to torture him a little more. But maybe not today.

“Are you done having your head up your ass now?”

With that single sentence, his shoulders eased. Face falling into a grim line as his head dropped, guilt coating his whole shape and form. 

“I’m sorry.”

“I know.”

“I’m really sorry, Y/N.”

Your lips twitched, repeating. “I know.”

Yoongi finally looked at you, his eyes were so obviously sad it was almost funny. “You don’t know. I was an asshole to you, just because I was afraid.”

“Out of all people in this castle, I’m the one who might just understand your situation the most.”

This time it was his turn to smile, although ruefully. “I know. I was stupid not to see it.”

“What now then?”

“Friends?”

You laughed, loud and clear, the voice ringing out in the empty corridor leading to the Slytherin common room. It took you a few minutes to calm down enough to not burst into new spurts of laughter. 

Yoongi remained silent through it all, wincing as your eyes met his with aq raise of your brows, seeing through his bullshit as easy as walking through a ghost. 

“Cut your bollocks and tell me the truth.”

He swallowed. 

Yoongi obviously didn’t want to be friends. Who the fuck stays friends after kissing as they had. After where his hands had touched your body. Seen a side of you no one else had. Fuck no, not a single part of him wanted to remain as just friends. 

He wanted you, quite frankly. Craved you at this point. 

But not just your body. 

He wanted everything that you could offer him. Your very soul if you were willing. He was ready to accept it all. 

But he couldn’t voice it out loud, fearing what he had done was enough to damage to the little bond that managed to sprout between you. 

“You need to say it,” You coaxed him firmly. “Or else I’ll walk away.”

Fuck, it was now or never. 

“Can you give me another chance?” Yoongi searched your expression carefully, but you were tricky witch even to him. 

“As friends?” You repeated slowly. 

“No, I don’t want your friendship,” He managed to sound more firm this time around, seeing the way your eyes widened only the tiniest bit. “I want you, Y/N. Just you. No strange friendship tip-toeing around each other. I want you with me.” Yoongi paused almost nervously, before adding in a low voice. “If you’ll have me.”

You bit back the grin wanting to spread across your face, skin flushing with the words he offered you so sincerely you almost teared up.

“What about your marriage?”

He waltzed up to you, inches apart as you stumbled back in surprise, the stone wall luckily meeting you for support. His large hands cupped your cheeks lovingly, eyes crinkling up in the corners as he smiled without abandon, sending your heart thumping happily. 

“My parents wanted a Greengrass as a wife.” His thumb brushed over your lower lip as your lips parted, his smile turning into a scheming smirk, muttering against your lips. “Who said they won’t get one?”

You snorted, letting down your guard, hand trailing up his chest and shoulders before wrapping around his neck. “You are one hell of a Slytherin, Min Yoongi.”

And then you kissed him. 

The world and its problems could wait. 

For now, all you wanted was to remain in the arms of the stubborn, prideful man in front of you, kiss him until you both ran out of breath. 

So this has been in the drafts since 2018. Heh. 

[ynjeonghoney]

sir, are you okay? — yoon jeonghan (M) (filo au)

Jeonghan as your roommate na pinagpractice'an mo ng CPR

✦ pairing: yoon jeonghan x oc reader ✦ genre: smut, filo setting ✦ word count: 3k ✦ warnings: contains profanity, oral sex (f and m receiving), unprotected sex

Reminders:

✦ minors dni! ✦ separate fiction from reality ✦ this au is purely fictitious and does not reflect the true personalities of kpop idols

When you arrived at your apartment, you immediately washed up and changed into casual clothes. Then you started laying out the yoga mat on the floor, while Jeonghan was on his phone.

“Halika na rito.” You called Jeonghan and he immediately approached you.

“Dumapa ka sa yoga mat.” You instructed him, but he seemed puzzled and reluctant about what you were saying.

“Ano?”

“Sumunod ka na lang, Jeo.”

Jeonghan had no choice but to follow you. He laid on his stomach as you read your CPR checklist, seeing to it that every step was clear and understood.

“Ayan, perfect! Wala kang gagawin ha, diyan ka lang.” You said enthusiastically. Then, you proceeded to read the next step, which is to ensure that the scene is safe.

“Kunyari ginigising kita, Jeo. You stay unconscious lang diyan.” Jeonghan simply nodded in response, promptly closing his eyes as if he were drifting off to sleep.

“Hey sir! Are you okay?”

“Sir! Can you hear me? Can you get up?”

You shook his shoulders vigorously, trying to "wake" him up.

“Tapos magtatawag na ako ng tulong.” You guided Jeonghan through the next steps you were going to take, making sure he was aware and attentive.

“Excuse me! Ma’am wearing a pink shirt…”

“Activate the EMS and get back to me with AED immediately!”

You repositioned him onto his back and adjusted the yoga mat so that he wasn't lying directly on the floor. “Ngayon, ipapahiga na kita tsaka lalapit ako sa mukha mo. Ichecheck ko kung humihinga ka.”

“Aba, syempre. Buhay pa ako, Jia.” Jeonghan joked. You couldn't help but chuckle at his light-hearted response, giving him a playful pinch on the stomach.

You gently placed your fingers on Jeonghan's neck to check for his carotid pulse, a critical step in evaluating a person’s cardiac status in situations like this. As you felt the rhythm beneath your fingertips, you immediately began counting, “1,001, 1,002, 1,003…” And with each breath, you observed the rise and fall of his chest.

“No signs of life. No pulse and no breathing.” You exclaimed.

“Isi-CPR na kita. Starting compressions.” You added, placing the heel of your left hand at the center of his chest, while simultaneously positioning your right hand on top, interlacing your fingers.

Jeonghan's eyes snapped open, a warning glance directed at you. “Huwag madiin, Jia!”

“Hindi ko talaga didiinan, Jeo. Masakit ‘tong compressions e.”

“Unless gusto mong baliin ko talaga ribs mo.” With a hint of jest, you lightened the mood. He just stared at the ceiling, knowing well enough that you would not actually press his chest too hard.

“1, 2, 3, 4, 5…” While you were focused on administering the compressions, you noticed him looking at you.

Jeonghan couldn't help but steal glances at you from this angle. He had always known you were beautiful, but seeing you in this point of view, kneeling beside him, with your face and chest so close to his own, stirred something within him.

“After ng 200 compressions, ichecheck ko ulit kung buhay ka.” You reminded him of your next course of action, maintaining focus on the task at hand.

Jeonghan fell silent, his gaze fixed on you as he observed your moves. Little did he know, the events that followed would push him to the edge in ways he never imagined. He was stunned when you suddenly adjusted your hair tie, and in that moment, your crop top tightened snugly around you, accentuating your breasts. “Teka, ang init, ayusin ko lang buhok ko.”

Fuck, ang sexy mo, Jia. It’s driving me crazy.

Erotic thoughts raced through Jeonghan's mind, and he could already feel the sudden surge of excitement that traveled down to his most sensitive part.

“1,001, 1,002, 1,003…”

“Positive signs of life.” You uttered after checking his carotid pulse.

“Tapos ipoposition na kita sa side, and we’re done!” You positioned Jeonghan sideways while securely gripping his shoulder and waist.

“Okay, Jia. From the top.”

“Sige, isa pa.”

“Hindi na ako dadapa, masakit sa tiyan.”

Once more, your practice session began. With Jeonghan's cooperation, you prepared to execute the skill efficiently.

You couldn't help but wonder why Jeonghan was fixated at you. It felt like his eyes were silently urging you on, observing your every move with intense focus.

Bakit ang pogi niya sa angle na ito?

Continuing with the practice, you resumed, shaking Jeonghan's shoulders as indicated on your checklist.

“Hey sir! Are you okay?”

“Can you hear me? Can you get up?”

“Excuse me! Ma’am wearing a pink shirt…”

“Activate the EMS and get back to me with AED immediately!”

“1,001, 1,002, 1,003…”

Suddenly, Jeonghan felt something soft against his arm, prompting him to look down and realize that your breasts were pressed against him while you were assessing his respirations.

He felt his heartbeat quicken as he caught sight of the stunning view of your cleavage. His breath hitched for a moment as he struggled to maintain composure. A rush of warmth flooding his cheeks and also down there.

“No signs of life…”

“Starting compressions.”

“1, 2, 3, 4, 5…”

“1,001, 1,002—” You were taken aback as Jeonghan's right hand found its way to the nape of your neck, the closeness of your faces adding an unexpected intensity.

In such close proximity, you could feel Jeonghan's breath against your lips. “Tangina, Jia. Look what you did to me.” Without breaking eye contact, he slowly took hold of your wrist and guided it towards where you could feel his hard cock. You felt warmness spread through your stomach, a sensation that seemed to ripple down to your femininity.

Shit, ang laki mo, Jeo.

"You have to do something about it, baby," Jeonghan said with a seductive smirk, teasing you in a way that left you tempted.

The only response you gave him was a sudden, impulsive kiss, to which he promptly reciprocated, eagerly returning the gesture. His lips were warm and inviting, drawing you in further.

Without hesitation, you parted your lips, and soon you both found yourselves lost in a passionate exchange, tongues dancing in a tantalizing rhythm. Everything around you faded into oblivion as the intoxicating sensation of each other's taste consumed you.

You quickly straddled his thighs, positioning yourself on top of him, feeling the heat radiating between your bodies. His hands instinctively found their way to your hips, gripping them firmly as he pulled you closer.

Jeonghan was nowhere near being able to control his words, his mind clouded by the overwhelming desire that you had ignited within him. "Ganda ng view ko, fuck.”

“Kahit araw-araw mo akong i-CPR, Jia.”

He was losing his mind over the sight before him: you on top of him, as if he wanted nothing more than to ravish your body. You grind yourself against his manhood, feeling it harden even more.

You leaned in close, the warmth of your breath tickling his ear as you whispered. “Dapat nagpra-practice pa ako, Jeo. You and your dirty mind.” Then, with deliberate intent, you resumed your exploration. You trail a path of soft kisses down his neck as you make him increasingly weak beneath you.

“Wala kasing preno ‘tong tite mo e.”

You then dared to caress his chest, your touch sending shivers down his spine, before trailing your fingertips down to his abdomen, tracing the contours of his abs. “But who am I to put a red light on my pussy?”

“Kung ikaw din lang wawasak sa akin, why not?”

As Jeonghan heard your words, you noticed a smirk spread across his lips, a proud expression evident in his eyes, clearly pleased with the effect he had on you.

“Be my guest.” Jeonghan remarked, referring to his cock that eagerly awaited your satisfaction.

You discarded your top, and the next thing you did was to guide his hands and help him in unclasping your bra.

Jeonghan's eyes roamed over your form. The sight captivated him, putting him into a state of hysteria. You momentarily shifted away from atop him. With a sense of urgency, he then discarded his clothes, lying beneath you in nothing but his underwear.

You intentionally placed your palm over his hard member, then slowly slid your hand down to grasp it firmly.

You want him inside you so bad.

Jeonghan impatiently helped you in removing his underwear, revealing his throbbing and erect member. Without hesitation, you took him into your mouth, your tongue swirling around him, eager to taste every inch of his hardness. Your actions elicited a deep groan of pleasure from Jeonghan, spurring you on as you continued to satisfy him.

“Fuck! Ang sarap mong chumupa!” Jeonghan closed his eyes in sheer ecstasy, overwhelmed by the intense pleasure of feeling the heat of your mouth enveloping him.

You increased the pace, head lolling back and forth as you worked to satisfy him.“Uhhh, sige pa, baby.” His hand reached for your head, matching the rhythm of your sucking.

As Jeonghan's hand grew heavier, pressing you more into him, you responded by taking him deeper into your mouth, his member stretching your limits as it began to push past the back of your throat.

“Mmm..” You began to lose your breath as you continued to take him, moans of pleasure escaping.

You knew it wasn't complete without a handjob, so without skipping a beat, you withdrew his cock from your mouth and quickly adjusted the pace of your hand, pumping up and down his shaft.

“Shit. Shit. Shit.” Jeonghan swore under his breath. He was losing his sanity, overwhelmed by the intense pleasure you were giving him.

With a gentle pull of your arm, he brought you on top of him, his lips claiming yours in a dominant kiss that left no room for resistance. He relished the feeling of your breasts pressing against him—warm, soft, with just a hint of titillating filthiness.

He held your jaw as he deepened the kiss. You melted into his touch, lost in the sensation of his tongue moving against yours.

“Baby, doon tayo sa kama.” You whispered and Jeonghan fulfilled your wish without hesitation.

You led him to sit on your bed with a gentle grasp of his hand. Positioned in front of him, you discarded your underwear.

Jeonghan teased, “Unfair naman kung ako lang kinain mo, Jia.” His gaze was filled with desire as he admired the stunning curves of your body.

Taking his hand, you guided it to your womanhood, encouraging him to explore every inch of it. Jeonghan felt his cock harden once more as he touched you. He then hovered over you as you eased yourself onto the bed.

“Huwag kang magpalipas ng gutom, Jeo.”

Jeonghan settled himself between your legs. From this point, he could already see just how wet and ready you were for him. He slid two of his fingers inside you, relishing the sensation of your tight and wet walls enveloping him. A soft moan escaped your lips as you felt the electrifying touch of his fingers exploring you intimately.

His fingers were soaked with your wetness as they moved in and out of you. He began to rub your clit, adding a new level of sensation that had you arching your back. However, what sent you over the edge was the moment he went down on you, his tongue expertly teasing your swollen bud, each flick sending waves of ecstasy through your body.

“Uhhh… Putangina!” You found yourself gripping Jeonghan's hair tightly as he skillfully pleasured you.

“I love how fucked up you look right now.”

“That’s just my tongue, Jia. Maliit na bagay.”

“Ang ganda mo na nga, ang sarap mo pa, puta.”

These were the things Jeonghan uttered as he savored every moment of indulgence with your body, fulfilling his desires exactly as he wished.

His impatience reached its peak; he wanted to feel the warmth of your pulsating womanhood enveloping his hard cock. Unable to resist any longer, he aligned himself with your slick entrance.

“Ah…shit. Please, Jeonghan, fuck me.”

“Please, baby. Ibaon mo na tite mo sa akin.”

Your desperate plea echoed in the air, your pussy throbbing with an insatiable urge to be filled by him.

“Sabihin mo kung masakit at babagalan ko. I don’t want to hurt you.”

“I want you to feel good, baby.” Your heart fluttered at his words of assurance.

He positioned the tip of his cock and slowly slid inside you, the firmness of his shaft meeting the warmth of your walls. As he penetrated deeper, you felt his hardness, while he, in turn, savored your tightness surrounding him.

You let out a moan as his girth stretched you out. It took a moment for you to adjust to his size, your walls gradually accommodating him. “Ngh… Uhhh..”

Jeonghan maintained a slow, steady rhythm, each movement a tantalizing tease as he slid in and out of you. He would never grow weary of the sight before him: you being fucked by him, your breasts moving in sync with each of his thrusts. The very idea of satisfying you ignited an unquenchable desire within him, urging him to explore every avenue of your pleasure.

“Fuck! Your pussy feels so good.”

As his pace intensified, his hands firmly anchored to your hips, you instinctively grasped onto his arms for stability. Lost in the euphoria of the moment, you were swept away by the overwhelming sensations coursing through your body. Before you knew it, you were profusely scratching his back, leaving a red trail of your nail marks.

“Shit! Ahhhh!”

“Harder!” You demanded more from him, your insatiable libido craving even deeper.

Jeonghan leaned closer, his breath hot against your skin as he buried his cock deep inside you. At the same time, his mouth found your left breast, and began to suck your nipple. His hand traveled towards your right breast, where he began to caress it with gentle yet firm strokes, eliciting soft gasps from you.

He found it hot that his large hands perfectly fit your breasts, the grip feeling snug and natural as if they were made for him—a perfect fit.

"Tangina, isagad mo! Ahhh…Sige pa!”

"You like it, baby? You take my cock so fucking well."

He groaned as he watched your face contorted in pleasure, then, positioning your legs on his shoulders, he angled himself deeper inside you, driving himself even further. His mind went berserk as he repeatedly witnessed how well his large member fit inside your tight, swollen cunt.

Jeonghan said in his deep voice, "Sakyan mo ako." He quickly withdrew his cock from you and laid down on his back, with you on top. You straddled him and positioned yourself over his throbbing shaft.

“Uhhh…fuck, yes.” You breathed a moan and with a slow, deliberate movement, you lowered yourself onto him, feeling every inch of him filling you up completely.

Jeonghan watched you attentively, his gaze filled with lust for the way you moved atop him. You moved your hips, driving him wild with every motion. As you rocked back and forth on top of him, your breasts swayed in rhythm with your movements, fueling his wild imagination even further.

"Shit, Jia. Nasisiraan ako ng ulo sayo."

Once again, Jeonghan reached up to fondle your breasts, giving them a gentle squeeze. Feeling the surge of passion, he then cupped your cheeks, pulling you closer for a kiss. As your tongues entwined in a passionate kiss, you felt the throbbing hardness of his cock, and in that moment, nothing else mattered but the electrifying connection between the two of you.

“Ahhh…”

“Ngghhh…”

Jeonghan's stamina was faltering as you relentlessly rode him, driving him to the brink of ecstasy. Despite the intensity of the moment, his cock remained rock hard, overwhelming you with pleasure to the point where you felt almost sensually dizzy.

“Tuwad.” Jeonghan's command took you by surprise, but who were you to complain when he fucks you so good?

As you obediently took your place on all fours, his hands firmly gripped your hips, ensuring his stability as he savored the sight before him. He repositioned his shaft at your entrance, slowly easing it back inside, inch by inch.

His size intoxicates you.

Jeonghan’s thrusts quickened, prompting you to bury your head in the pillow and grip it tightly in response. With each thrust, his movements grew stronger and more forceful, exerting a powerful control over you.

"Putangina, Jeo! Don't stop!"

“F-faster!”

Jeonghan let out a deep moan, his heart racing so fast he could feel it pulsating in the depths of his throat, as though it might burst at any moment. Both of you were drenched in sweat, fluids coating your bodies and the sheets. The sound of your skin slapping against each other echoed in the room, creating the perfect ambiance to welcome the weekend.

He consistently rails you, and you were completely wrecked by his thrusts. It felt as though he was ravaging your insides, leaving you a hot mess under him.

“I'm cumming, baby.” Jeonghan whispered huskily. As he uttered those words, a wave of warmth surged through his abdomen, radiating outward and mingling with the intoxicating sensation enveloping his entire body. And just like him, you felt the same heat spreading from your core, a delicious tension building within you as euphoria washed over your senses.

“Malapit na rin ako.”

Your eyelids fluttered shut as you neared your climax, the overwhelming sensations pushing you to the brink of release. “Ahhh…shit!”

Jeonghan groaned as he released inside you, his hot seed filling you up, and you could feel it seeping out of your cunt, coating your inner walls with warmth as it trickled down your thighs.

He collapsed onto the bed, exhausted, his breaths coming in deep and heavy. You lay down beside him, and he pulls you closer to him, wrapping his arms around your body in a tender embrace.

He pulled you into a tight embrace, relishing the warmth emanating from your body as it radiated with his. He pressed his lips against your forehead, planting a soft kiss filled with affection. Then, his lips found yours, the kiss becoming deeper and sloppier.

“Gawin mo akong pasyente mo palagi, Jia.”

“Siraulo.”

----end----

[artemiseamoon]

What the heart wants

Pero Tovar x F Reader*

🤶🏾🎁Secret Santa fic ✨ for @blueeyesatnight !!! ✨ Happy holidays! (event hosted by @pedrostories )

Read below * or on A03

Words: 7,621

Summary: As Spring rolls around, you find yourself content with your life. Business is successful, you have all the independence you want and good friends to share life with. A man wasn't something you needed or were seeking at the time as occasional lovers fulfilled your primal urges. But it was clear, life had other plans as a handsome but dirty mercenary blew through your doors.

Warnings: some canon period misogyny (not much), Pero 😂, language, brothel mention & mild sexual content.

*Reader notes: there are some details!!! So it’s not a completely blank slate; reader is female, in her upper 30s, sturdy/curvy built (visualize as you please) & often wears pants not dresses. No skin tone/race mentioned but she does understand & speak some Spanish. *Feel free to read as an OC if you prefer*

AN: If you already know me, you know I no longer crosspost to this site, nor write reader inserts. Since this is a special occasion, it’s both a RC & crossposted (here & on my A03) 😁 happy reading! This was so fun to write.

You

Holding the cuff to the afternoon light, you examined your work closely, feeling satisfied with the end result. Growing up the daughter of a blacksmith, you learned several things, and though you could make a sword, you quickly found you preferred making jewelry; it filled you with joy, especially when you saw the end result and the look on people's faces.

You had kitchenware under your belt too, it was the kind of thing that always bought in coin, as it was a needed everyday item. Currently, you are perfecting your skills in armor making. You started to learn back in your early 20s, now in your late 30’s you could create decent work, but you wanted to be better. Never one to back down from a challenge, you made it your newest goal.

You just set the new cuff aside when the small bell chimed, filling the halls with the familiar sound. Stepping away from the desk, you peeked out of the doorway and down the hall, where you had a straight shot of the front door.

You quirked a brow as a man you’ve never seen before stalked in, the wind sweeping inside with him, along with a bad mood like a dark cloud overhead. Upon first glance, he almost seemed inconvenienced, yet you saw him walk in alone, no one forced him.

He was handsome with dark features, but dirty, and needed a good shave. The stranger wore the kind of scowl that would keep people ten feet away from him. His attire and the double swords strapped to his back gave his profession away, a mercenary. They often traveled through these parts en route to somewhere else and stayed a night or two; it made good coin for the local businesses when they did.

You thought about revealing yourself but chose to watch him a little longer. You observed him as he moved deeper into the shop, his eyes moving about the place as he took it in.

He scratched his beard, grumbling something you couldn’t hear, as he touched and poked at things along the way. He was a fascinating creature to watch, and one of the best-looking men you’ve seen in a long time, even under all the dirt and grime, and the sharp chip on his shoulder. That’s when you noticed the scar, one that made you curious about the how, and made him even hotter at the same time.

Even his walk was attractive, he seemed more like a wild animal than a man, like a feral wolf just wandered into your shop and right into your hands.

Pero (minutes ago)

Dragging his feet, Pero made his way through the town, eyeing signs on doors and windows, looking for work. He was tired, bone tired, his back hurt like all hell, his ass was numb from being on his horse so long, and he was annoyed. He was starving, he ran out of rations early this morning and was running on a piece of stale bread at the moment. He’d try one more place, then get some damn food, followed by a room, a bath, and a whore.

He was about halfway down the block when he noticed the blacksmith sign. In his half hour here, it seemed West Meadow had no work for him requiring his swords, but a man could always be useful in a shop like that.

Pero entered, his stomach grumbling and fighting with him. He expected to see a forge as soon as he walked in but was met with a plain room with a simple desk, two chairs, and a long table. Ahead was a hallway that likely led to some other rooms. The smells of iron, steel, wax, and fire met his nose, there was definitely a forge, maybe in the back.

Where the hell was everyone?

Patience wasn’t a friend of his. He called out and was only met with his own echo.

Cursing under this breath, he decided to ditch this plan for now, and just get some food. A door opened in the distance. He turned, expecting to see a man appear, but a man it wasn't.

Pero tilted his head to the side as his eyes raked over you. You were beautiful, with a face that was downright distracting, but that wasn’t all, when you smiled, you nearly knocked his bad mood right out of him. Your smile was so full and bright that he finally understood what that stupid saying, bright as the sun, meant.

You were well-built, sturdy, and curvy in the right places. That was clear even with the heavy apron you wore. Pero raised his eyes back to your own. Even the smudges on your face and a mask over your hair didn’t take away from your beauty.

Pero regained his composure, then asked gruffly, “who's in charge?”

Your smile dropped, “well, hello to you too.”

“Where’s your husband or father?”

“Are you serious?” you rested a hand on your hip.

His eyes dropped to your hand, you were wearing gloves, so he didn't know if you wore a ring or not, “Brother?”

An irritated laugh fell out of you as you shook your head.

“Unless…” he started, “you’re alone here?”

“I am the owner, you ass.” you held up your hands, then tore off a glove, “no husband either!”

He looked at you with disbelief in his eyes, “a woman alone, here? "his accent coming out even more now.

“Yes,” you growled back at him, growing more agitated.

Your initial sunny demeanor was gone, now you were like a cat with your claws out.

“Lo siento, “he held out a hand as he apologized like he was trying to calm a bull, “I’m just looking for work.”

He had a lot of questions.

A woman was usually married, which you weren’t, taken, or would be under her father's supervision, which you weren’t either. Or a whore, which you didn’t seem to be. You also claimed to run this business on your own, which was unusual. And you didn’t have a man guarding the door either, you were strange in fact, very strange.

“Not hiring,” you replied in Spanish, which made him raise a brow at you. “You can go now.”

You & Pero

What an ass.

You thought, sure he was hot, and you were very intrigued, but you didn’t need the attitude or the barbaric mindset. There were enough assholes in town who had opinions about you, and the kind of life you should live. You didn’t need some dirty mercenary putting his two cents in the matter.

You only made it a few steps away from him before stopping, you could feel him lingering, his eyes on you. You doubled back. You assessed him with your eyes and pulled the mask fully off your head.

Maybe he could be useful, you thought. “What are you good at?”

He smirked, taking a half step your way, “You really the boss?”

“Yes.” you hissed.

“Swords, blades, knives.” he paused, his eyes still on yours, even as he pointed at his suit, “repairs.”

“Hmmm,” you crossed your arms while continuing to study him. “I do all that. No need for you.”

He chuckled. Yeah, he liked you, he liked you a lot. Before he could stop himself, he asked,

“Is this really your place? No man is hiding back there?”

You rolled your eyes and pointed to the door, “see the name on the fucking sign, that’s my last name. My father is too old to work, I have no brothers, this place is mine. Got a problem with that?”

He smirked, liking the sass, this kitty scratches. “No problem.”

You locked in a stare with him, almost getting distracted by his eyes, you could lose yourself in them. In the back of your mind, you thought about the long list of things you had to do, and an extra hand around here might be good, but you weren’t sure if you’d reveal that to him yet.

You pointed to the door, “I’ll think about it. Come back tomorrow.”

Pero was about to say something when the door opened, he turned to see a man enter, then quickly looked at you again, seeing your smile return. Damn, it was a sight to see.

The man moved right past Pero like he wasn’t there and went straight to you. As you greeted each other, you pulled a pouch out of your apron and revealed a metal wristband.

“I was just about to send word, it’s finished,” you display your work proudly.

Pero grinned, a woman metalsmith, how odd. You continued to intrigue him by the second.

“Lovely work as always,” the man said your name while admiring it.

Your eyes darted to Pero’s. “Tomorrow,” you repeated sharply.

Pero huffed, then saw himself out.

.

Early Evening, The Three Bucks Inn & Tavern

As Pero parked himself at a table off to the side, he took in his surroundings. The Tavern was busy with locals, and a few people who looked like visitors.

“Can I get ya anything?” the barmaid asked as she stopped by this table, she spoke over the crowd, making sure he could hear her.

“Food and ale,” Pero answered while slapping the silver coins on the table.

She pocketed the coins. “Anything else?”

Pero sat back, really looking at her this time. The woman was good-looking, a little thin for him, he preferred them thicker. Like that woman from the shop, you were sturdy, you could handle him. He shrugged the thought away. A whore would be better anyway, get in, get laid, go to bed.

“A room and a whore,”

He’d been on the road for months, he needed to fuck a woman as bad as he needed a good bath and a shave. Plus, a good night's sleep, on a bed for once. He was getting older; all the years had taken their toll on his body. He was still skilled and quick on his feet, but he required more rest now.

“I’ll get ya a bed.” she pointed toward the door, “Take a left past the carriage house. Walk till you reach the end of West Street. Madame Mae’s is the last house on the corner. No missing it. Red door. Just about as subtle as you are.”

Pero frowned as the woman left to fulfill the order.

He was looking forward to a hot meal, real food, not the shit he was surviving on for the last few months. He hoped the whores at Mae’s were decent, he’d fuck what he could get, but someone nice to look at would be even better.

Well, you would be better. He tried to put you out of his mind, but like a phantom, you wouldn’t leave, he kept thinking about your smile, your form, and the way you shot venom with your eyes when he pissed you off. If you know how to forge metal, you could likely use a sword too, and the thought made his cock twitch.

The whore would have to do it, but you would be better.

.

Later, Pero

Now that Pero had a bath, a shave, and a satisfactory fuck with a decent whore, a good night's rest was next. But it was still a little early and he was feeling restless.

Mierda

Maybe he should have gone with William. But what the fuck would he have done with himself? His blonde-haired friend had done the foolish thing of falling in love and doubled back to the place they left behind nearly a year ago. After they left the wall, they spent months on the road, taking jobs and for Pero at least, trying to get China out of his mind.

Pero’s solo journey wasn’t going so well, and if had to spend another 3-5 months on horseback, starving, cold, horny, and bearing the weather, he’d kill someone. A lot of someones.

Pero wanted to stop moving, just for a little while, make some money at the same time. A lot of money, preferably. He already spent most of this year and last on the move, and if this town had no work, he’d just drag himself to the next.

Soon his restlessness, and busy mind led him to leave the bed. Leaving the inn, he stepped out onto the street, the townspeople were enjoying the weather, and the night market was still going, though some vendors were starting to pack up.

Pero only walked a few minutes before he saw you again. You were chatting with a vendor, a woven basket in one hand, full of various items. You were dressed in a dark tunic tucked into dark pants and boots, with a blade holstered to your right thigh. He expected to see you in skirts outside of the shop, but again, you were no ordinary woman, not by any stretch.

Pero lingered in the background, watching, soon he heard your laugh for the first time. Fuck, it was wonderful, just as wonderful as your smile. You were both the sweetest thing he’d ever seen, and mean as a snake when pressed, you also looked like you could throw a punch, and he liked that.

As the vendor made you laugh again, Pero felt something else and wanted to kick himself for it. He spent a total of 5 minutes with you, what the fuck did he have to be jealous about? He chalked it up to his sleep-deprived state, and maybe needing to get laid again tomorrow - that should calm him down.

There you were, his shadow, and all it took was 5 minutes. He thought about you all day, in the bath while he jerked off, and even when he fucked that whore. Pero felt ridiculous. Maybe William wasn’t the foolish one, maybe it was him.

Before he could stop himself, his feet were moving as he made his way over to you.

You

You felt eyes on you the whole time but could finally pinpoint the source. There he was, coming your way. All dark and broody and sexy as hell and cleaned up.

“Oh, the brute. Are you stalking me?”

He grunted, “No.”

“Sure?” You smirked as you shifted the basket to your other hand. “Because stalking is not a good way to get hired. In fact, it’s creepy.”

“Don’t flatter yourself, cariño. If I want a woman, I pay a whore.”

You raised your brows at him, what you were feeling wasn’t offense, it was something you couldn’t put your hands on.

“Well, the next time you go, why don’t you ask for a job. Maybe they’re hiring.” Without giving him time to respond, you were off, taking long strides away from him.

No matter how hot he was, he was irritating as hell. Brute, yeah, that was a good fit and that's what he was. The last thing you needed was to get involved with a guy like him.

No. Do not go there, you remind yourself. Even if he was hot as sin.

.

The next day, You and Pero

You were just setting up for a ring you’re working on, then the bell chimed.

It was much too early for clients, and there was only one person you could think of who would be here right now. You weren't sure if you hoped it was him, or dreaded the possibility. Leaving the work desk, you stepped out into the front room and saw him standing there.

“Ugh.” You sighed then headed back into the other room.

In the back of your mind, you thought of bringing your dogs next time, so they could watch the front door.

Pero took it upon himself to follow you inside. You leaned against the desk with crossed arms.

“What?”

“You said come back tomorrow.”

You were listening, well, half listening. He looked even better than he did yesterday, in the light of day, you could fully appreciate all the grooming he did.

As you noticed last night, he got a haircut, but it was still long enough to grab, to run your finger through. Unable to stop yourself, your eyes slid down his face, over his excellent bone structure, the cleaned-up beard, and down to his neck, even that part of him was sexy. You could feast your eyes on him for hours.

“Happy to see me?” He smirked, stopping in front of you, enjoying the way you greedily took him in.

“Not really,”

Pero's stance was confident, eye contact unwavering. “You need my help. Hire me.”

“What? So, you could protect me from men and beasts? I have a feeling you are both.”

He chuckled, fully amused, “I could,” he shrugged, “I am.”

“Besides, I’ve been in my share of fights. I’m good with sharp things.”

Fuck, Pero thought, your words hitting him right in his core and going lower. You were special.

“The team we’d make then, why not have the best swordsman on your grounds?”

You uncrossed your arms, "and you’re full of yourself, what a winner. I don’t need your help.”

Pero scoffed. “You’re short a man. Injury.”

You narrowed your eyes at him, how did he know that?

Auden hurt his arm pretty bad last week, it was mainly you and him here, he was your main employee. You had two apprentices, but they weren’t where they needed to be yet, you were carrying the bulk of work on your shoulders. This handsome, grumpy stranger did his homework.

Still, he irritated you, so you said, “I don’t need you. You can go now.”

Pero hated that. He didn’t mean to be so rough when he reached out to grab your wrist, but he didn’t like being dismissed.

He didn’t even know what he was going to say, just grabbed you, making you spin around to face him. Your eyes burned with anger and something else more sensual behind that. Before he could speak, you slapped him, clear across the cheek. He was more impressed than mad.

As he rubbed his face and chuckled, you grabbed an unfinished blade from the table and pressed the sharp edge to his neck. His brown eyes widened as he stared at you.

“Get the fuck out.” You warned through gritted teeth.

Your lips, that’s where his eyes went, even with a blade to his throat.

Instead of a fight, a counter move, or a slew of curses, Pero's sultry gaze lingered on your lips, then met your eyes again. Despite yourself, you stole a glance of his mouth, and those kissable lips of his.

Sure, the mercenary was a pain in the ass. Whatever depths of hell dragged this man to your front door, you didn’t know. He was like a dog who kept coming back and you didn’t totally hate that. In fact, you -

The bell over the front door chimed as a customer came in. You both heard it, yet remained locked in a tense lust-filled stare. When you licked your lips, simply to moisten them, his eyes followed the movement. The bastard didn’t even flinch with the blade to his neck.

Why have a whore when he could have you? Pero thought, the idea followed by images that awakened him in other places.

“Hello?” The patron called out your name, you knew who it was by voice alone.

“One minute,” you shouted back, eyes still on Pero.

“Repairs, the two blades I told you about,” they said from beyond the door.

“I start now,” Pero stated with a smug grin.

“Are you fucking serious?”

He chuckled, finding your astonishment cute. Pero took one more indulgent, long look at you then stepped out into the main room.

Unable to move, the blade still in your hand, you stared at the door. Did he really just walk in here, hire himself, then look at you like you were a steak dinner? Yeah, he did.

“Pendejo.” You cursed, then pushed the door open. “I don’t even know his name…”

.

Two weeks later, You & Pero

Pero continued to annoy and intrigue you at the same time. He was a good worker, skilled, able to repair things and even knew how to make swords and blades. It was impressive.

He wasn’t a warm guy, which was obvious from first impressions, an acquired taste really. You kept him away from interacting with customers because of his harsh, curt demeanor, leaving him to mainly work in the workshop and behind the scenes, while you handled the front of the house, you, or your apprentices Nura and Robert.

You liked Nura the most, not that Robert was bad, he was a fast learner, and attentive worker. It was just extra special training another woman. You enjoyed seeing her defy the social norms and carve out her own path, same as you. You saw her like a little sister.

Everything ran smoothly at the shop, but the two of you still didn't know much about each other on a personal level. Pero didn’t talk about himself, or his life, nor did you.

Having him around gave you more free time, and you used some of that to dive into your other love, herbalism. One of your dreams was to open an apothecary, the town already had one, but you wanted your own, and you already knew how to make yours extra special.

This dream was on your mind when you cleared out a back room in the building and started to play around with tinctures and blends on your downtime. Pero made little comments along the way when he saw you in there, they gave you a few clues about him.

Being on the road, he knew a few things and recognized some of the herbs. He had a comfort there, but when you were creating potions as he called it, you noticed he’d get a little freaked out, and it didn’t take long to figure out he had a thing about magic and witches.

You weren’t a witch, but you knew how to make some things, and some days, just to fuck with him, you exaggerated.

- Flashback, to a few days ago -

You only stepped away for a moment but returned to see Pero observing the jars from a distance. He stopped at a corked bottle with an unusual purple hue, and some kind of clawed root at the bottom.

Pero picked it up cautiously, then put it down, “what kind of witchery is this?”

You leaned against the wall and crossed your arms in a relaxed way, “ingredients to turn you into a dragon.”

Pero whipped around to you with a suspicious look, “Are you joking?”

“Yes,” you laughed, “unless, you piss me off.”

“I always piss you off.”

"You better be careful then. And stop leaving your hair around, I’m collecting it.”

As you laughed and walked out of the room, he ran his palm over his hair, which only made you laugh more.

- Flashback over -

.

Three weeks later, Pero

The tavern was alive, packed wall to wall, and the revelry high; it was a special night as you threw Nura a birthday party.

Pero didn’t do parties, but it was better than sulking in his room alone, and he was pretty tired of the whores at Mae’s. He’s been here over a month now, fucked most of them all, and it did little to calm what he really needed and wanted, you.

Whenever he saw you laughing, having a good time, or flirting he was tempted to march over and claim you for himself, to kiss you in front of everyone and make it clear he would cut the head off any man who tried to win your affection.

Pero was sure you were attracted to him, he caught the stolen glances, still you never made a move or voiced your attraction. He knew you weren’t shy. Was it him? Were you doing this to torture him? What a wicked witch you were.

Even when he had two whores the other night, it only took the edge off. How you haunted him so. He felt defeated, maybe? But he wasn’t a quitter. He’d get you all for himself somehow. Pero wished William was here, the blonde would give him advice, advice he needed because Pero wasn’t good at shit like this.

Fighting, fucking, eating, and drinking, be had that down. But trying to win a woman’s heart, he had no fucking idea how to do that. He had to do this right. He didn’t want you just once, he wanted you for good.

Could it be, were you his...princesa? No. You weren't a princess. You we're tough. You looked after yourself and made your own way in life. No, reina, that's more fitting.

Where’s the Irishman when I need him? I could use your help amigo.

As a drunk man bumped into his table, Pero scowled at him, then lost himself in thought again, downing his ale at the same time. Things you like, yes, he’d start there. Women like gifts, right?

He noticed you enough at the markets to know some things, including your favorite dessert at the bakery. Good. A plan. He nodded to himself, then stood. He stole one more glance of you, across the way and having a good time, then made his way out of the tavern.

.

The next morning

Your head was spinning, too much ale. To make up for that, you pushed your work back to the afternoon and planned to take a nap upstairs once Pero got in. Last night came to mind, he was there, then he wasn’t. You were surprised he even came.

“Speak of the devil,” you said while rubbing your temples.

Pero nodded, looking a bit awkward, then put the bag he was holding for dear life on the desk. “Here.”

You poked the bag, “what is this?”

He scratched his temple, his brown eyes looking puppy-like, “uh, that sweet round thing, with cream and berries.”

You grinned, “from the bakery?”

“Sí.”

You bite back a full smile, then open the bag, “is poisoned?”

Pero sighed and then started to walk away.

“I’m joking!” you shouted back at him, “thank you Pero.”

He glanced back, and you swore you could see a little smile on his closed lips.

.

The week would be full of surprises. It started on Monday when he got your favorite dessert from Sweets n Breads Bakery. He was kind of awkward all day, didn’t say much to you, and seemed wrapped up in his own thoughts.

On Tuesday, there was another pastry waiting for you, and some of your to-do list was already completed. He explained he worked late and decided to get more done.

On Wednesday, you arrived to another pastry, and flowers with dirt and roots still attached, flowers you were sure he tore from someone's garden on the way over. Soil was all over the place, and you had to dust it off your papers.

He didn’t hand them to you directly, just busied himself in the forge while they sat on your desk. You waited until he was free to ask him about them. He was just finishing his lunch in the kitchen when you joined him.

“So, flowers.”

His eyes moved over you as he swallowed the last of his food, “women like flowers, yes? Even women who wear pants?"

Pero was panicking a little this morning, worried the pastry wasn't enough. On the way to work, he saw a guy give a girl flowers, and then get a kiss in return, so he figured, why not try. Even if he felt like a damn fool doing it.

You could see his mind going as you watched him. He was so cute, so innocent in this moment, you could kiss him right there. You also knew from the mix of flowers, they were from Mrs. Jennings' garden, and she was likely throwing a fit right now.

“Ever give a girl flowers before?” you asked as you sat next to him.

“No,” he answered, his eyes on you.

“Well, thank you,”

He shrugged, playing it cool, but you could see in his eyes he was hoping you liked his gesture.

“And the pastry, it was delicious, you’re buttering me up, Pero.”

“You like them. Yes?”

“I do.”

He smiled and relaxed back in his chair.

You leaned in closer, playing with his collar, “I won't say it's working but - “ you plant a kiss on his cheek. His eyes lit up as he smiled wider. “I have work to do.” You got up, taking one more look at him before leaving the room.

.

Thursday

Nura was organizing something when Pero came in, he walked in like he was in a hurry, and spoke in a low tone,

“I have a question.”

She looked up at him with a smile, knowing it was about you.

At first, she thought Pero was an ass, which he is, but she liked him now, he grew on her, and when it came to you, he was kind of adorable and an idiot at the same time.

“If it's about flowers, Mrs. Jennings is on a warpath, I recommend you stop taking them before she bites your hand off. She may be old, but she's mean as hell.”

He nodded, then came around the desk to join Nura.

“What else does she like? Boots? I could buy her boots?"

“She likes practical things. Maybe something she could use.”

“She likes swords.”

“She loves them, maybe a little too much.”

“What if I make her one?”

“Pastries and flowers are nice, so are boots, but if you make her a custom sword, that may do the trick. No promises, just sayin.”

Pero nodded, he grumbled a thank you, then headed back to the forge. Robert passed him in the hall and joined Nura.

“That's a man on a mission, nearly ran me over.”

“He’s smitten.” she handed him a note, "the supplies.”

“Somehow he seems a little less - grumpy these days.”

“Little by little, but I think even if he is in a good mood, he’d still be grumpy.”

Robert hummed, “I still don't get why she likes him so much.”

“I think I do; they’d be cute together.”

Not agreeing, but not going to argue either, Robert just nodded, then made his way out with the list.

.

Days later

You weren’t supposed to come in today, so when you came through the door, rushing like a bat out of hell, it took Pero by surprise. Not just because he didn’t expect to see you until tomorrow, it was the dress that shocked him the most. In all his time here, dark colored tops, pants, and boots were how you dressed yourself.

“I’m not here, ignore me,” you shouted as you rushed past him, then Nura.

The younger woman caught a glimpse of Pero’s expression and laughed.

“She’s wearing a dress..."

“Once in a blue moon, for special occasions. Her childhood friend is getting married today.” Nura explained.

Pero’s brows raised higher as you appeared again, a pouch in hand.

“A dress-" he repeated, taking you in with his eyes.

You hiked up the dress, he got a flash of your legs as you carefully slid the pouch into your high boot.

As you smoothed the fabric down, Pero feasted on you. To see you like this, so feminine as the soft flowing fabric hugged your form and for the first time, he had a good look at your cleavage, the fabric cupping your breasts in a way the loose shirts never did; he was a man ready to pounce, to scale the counter and claim you then and there.

“Fuck-“ you cursed,

He laughed. Strong and independent, a mouth like a sailor. A lady, and a warrior in one. His perfect woman.

“Can’t believe I forgot this. I gotta go,” you started to breeze past them, then stopped as you locked eyes with Pero. You grinned, eyeing him with the same sultry gaze he sent your way. “Like it?” You asked while giving a teasing spin.

“Sí, you should wear more dresses.”

“Maybe one more this year, if you give me a good reason to,” you winked at him then dashed out of the door.

“That woman -“ Pero shook his head as he stared at the door.

“Oh you are far gone Pero,” Nura patted his arm, “just tell her already.”

“Tell her what ?”

“How you feel. I’m sure you’ve noticed; she has other suitors.”

“And I’ll fight them all.” He grew serious.

Dammit, the thought. He came here for work, rest and to get laid. He didn’t expect this, he didn’t plan to -

Nura’s light laugh pulled him out of his head. “Just tell her. She likes you too.”

“She flirts with me but makes no moves.”

“You really are adorable when confused.”

“Adorable? I’m not adorable.”

She chuckled, “Have you considered that she wants you to make the first move?”

“She’s no weak woman, she makes swords and wears pants.”

“That doesn’t mean she doesn't want to be perused, she takes charge daily, maybe she wants someone else, you, to take the lead this time.” She playfully tapped Pero’s head

He groaned and swatted her hand.

“Take the lead Pero, don’t overthink it,” Nura advised, then laid her hands on the counter. “We have a lot of work to do, ready?”

“Ready.”

As they headed back, he asked something he was curious about. He started by saying your name,

“Are you the same as her? No husband?”

“No, and there won’t be. I’m gay.” She answered.

Pero quirked a brow.

She added, “I like women. And I do have a girlfriend, the bartender at three bucks, with freckles.”

Ah, Pero thought, he’d seen her before.

“This is a strange place indeed,” he muttered, “I’ve never been to a place like this, with such women.”

“I like to think our town is special. But that doesn’t mean we don’t have people with opinions or those who accuse us of devil worship or witchcraft.”

“Are you, a witch?”

“I know some things, “she grinned, “can I watch you finish that armored plate before I start my work?”

Pero grinned, “Sí, vamos.”

The kid, well Nura wasn’t a kid, she was 25 now, but he called her that sometimes; she had given him some good advice about you and handled his moods with ease.

In Pero’s time here, Robert still wasn’t a fan of his, but they had no fights between them minus some minor disagreements. Your main guy, Audin, was still in recovery but came in from time to time to help with smaller things. His role reduced until he got better. Pero liked the guy, what little he saw of him.

In these weeks, Pero found himself most fond of Nura, she was like the little sister he never asked for. He could see why you liked her so much and why you took her under your wing.

.

A couple of weeks later

Pero studied his work with a sharp eye, searching for any imperfections.

Any other time he made a blade, it was robotic, just doing something he knew how to do, but this mattered more than any of those times. It had to be perfect because he was shit with words, he hoped he could hand you this and you would know all the things he wanted to say to you.

Months ago, if someone told him a woman like you existed, he would have laughed and called bullshit. But you were real, very real, and meant to be his. For you, he’d move into this town for good, put the long journeys to rest, and figure out all that shit he avoided all his life, like how to win a woman's heart and share his life with someone. He was sure he'd fuck up, a lot, piss you off, and get it wrong, but as long as he had you, he would keep trying to get it right.

Once the blade was packed up, he made his way to your house on the edge of town. He was nervous, more than he'd been in a long time, and he felt foolish. He wondered what Willaim would say if he saw him right now.

.

Pero stared at the door, part of him wanting to knock, and the other wanting to run, to turn around and get the hell out of here before he got himself even more wrapped up in this, in you.

It had to be witchery; how else would you have such a hold on him?

What are you waiting for, get moving, Pero heard in his friend's voice, phantom William pushing him forward. He could hear the dogs barking and coming his way in the distance.

Pero knocked on the door…

Once Pero was inside, you offered him a drink. He sat at your kitchen table as you poured ciders then went over to him.

“A home visit, what’s the special occasion?” you asked as you sat.

“Visiting the dogs." he smirked.

"Of course," you shook your head and took a drink.

Over the last few weeks, you’ve seen a new side of Pero emerge, and it made you like him more.

You’ve made the first move before and thought about doing that with him, but it would be so much more fun if he did it. You wanted him to charge in here and ravish you, and you were hoping today was the day, but the sense of nervousness you’re getting off of him makes you unsure.

“I have something for you,” he pulled a wrapped item from his pouch. He placed it on the table as his eyes met yours. “A gift.”

“Really?”

Pero watched, holding his breath as you unwrapped it, revealing the most perfect blade you’ve ever seen. Down to the handle, and the engravings. In the past, you made a few for yourself but always felt like you were missing something. Pero, this man sent to you from the universe, somehow got it right.

You held the blade, running your fingers over it, admiring it as your lips parted slightly in shock. At first, Pero was worried you didn’t like it, but as your eyes lit up, he relaxed and dropped his shoulders.

“Pero - “ you breathed, your eyes flicking to his, then back at the blade. “This is perfect.”

His small grin turned to a full smile and before you could say anything else, he dragged your chair closer to his with one hand. While cupping your cheek, Pero leaned in, bringing his lips to yours.

Smiling as he kissed you, you put the blade down and grabbed his arms. Pero drew you into his lap as the kiss deepened, intensifying with each pass of each other's lips.

His kiss was passionate, consuming, desperate and you could swear, your body was feeling all the things he wanted to say to you and was too afraid to say; the floodgates blasted open and as your hands roamed, finally exploring each other's bodies, you knew there was no going back after this.

"Mi reina, I'll fuck you on the floor if I have to. But it must happen now."

The hoarse desperation in his voice only made you hotter for him.

You tugged his hair while teasing another kiss, “I prefer a bed handsome. Follow me.”

“Gladly.”

You held out your hand, he took it. As you made your way to the bedroom, Pero latched on to you, kissing and biting at your neck, his hands moving over your breasts as his cock pressed against your ass.

.

Hours later

Laying on your stomach, Pero beneath you, you traced his scar with your fingertip. He looked as good as you imagined naked; he was delicious, and you allowed yourself to feast.

He had a map of scars from his legs up to his face, he was beautifully shaped, from his hands to his cock, to his broad shoulders and bone structure. If you could only have one man in your bed from here on out, you’d choose him.

Pero felt calmer than he had ever been, relaxed after the come down from your second round some time ago. The first was hot, rough, and fast, like wolves in heat under the full moon. The second time was less rushed and even more enjoyable.

You traveled the length of the scar, then met his gaze. "What’s this one from?”

“A time I was left for dead. The bastards tried to take my boots. I took their lives.”

You grinned, imagining him out in the field, and all his adventures.

A comfortable silence fell between you for a while, until Pero broke it.

“- quite the game we played cariño.”

“Wasn’t it,” you lay on his chest, planting a kiss on his chin, then on his lips, “but, who says it’s over?”

“Meaning?”

“I haven’t seen your sword skills yet, we must duel.”

He chuckled, shaking you both slightly as it rumbled through his chest, “Yeah?”

“Yeah, and…” you kiss him again, “there’s a whole list of fun games we could play.”

He quirked a curious brow.

“Well,” you nibbled his ear before telling him what was on your mind.

“Dios mio - “ he said with wide eyes.

“You know you like it,” you grinned, then kept going.

“I do,” he confirmed, caressing the back of your neck as the games you whispered got filthier and filthier.

God, you were speaking his language, and he wasn’t sure if you were real - well if he hadn’t just fucked you twice, which was more than worth the wait, he'd think this was magic, witches work, but you, and this, were all real.

You continued, spilling your dirty thoughts in his ear while now stroking his length with your hand.

Fuck, Pero thought, he’d keep you forever, even longer after that. You would never know another man because you were his.

Pero took hold of you, pulling you into an earth-shattering kiss before holding you against him.

“Good thing for you, I'm not going anywhere. You're mine now.”

You smiled against his chest, “I think I might not object to that.”

“Woman,” he groaned with a slight laugh,

“For you,” you looked up at him and weaved your fingers through his, “I'll make an exception.”

“Now that we’ve come to an understanding, I want food,” he sat up, pulling you with him, “then we fuck again.”

“I like the way you think.” You straddled his hips, teasing him a little before getting off. “Come on my ravenous beast, I made stew last night, and I must say, it's damn good.”

You slipped on the tunic and then made your way out of the room.

Pero slipped on his pants and followed, “as glad as I am to eat, I’m more excited about dessert.”

As you busied yourself gathering bowls, Pero watched from the doorway. As good as it felt to have you, as happy as it made him to see your reaction to the blade, he couldn't shake his sense of worry. When he said you were his, you replied with a maybe, well, not exactly, you said,

“I think I might not object to that.”

Might not

That didn’t sit right.

He was all in, dead serious about it. If you’d have him, there was no one after you. But if you were unsure -

Pero called your name, prompting you to glance over your shoulder at him with that heart-stopping smile of yours.

“Yes?”

His doubts felt stupid, with the way you’re looking at him now, the light in your eyes, that smile. Still, he needed to hear it, he needed to hear it from your lips.

Pero came over to you, you could tell his mood had shifted. With concern, you turned to him and took one of his hands in yours.

“What's wrong?”

“I mean it,” he said your name as he cupped your cheek with one hand, his eyes big, brown, and vulnerable as he stared into yours, “You’re mine.”

Your eyes softened on him even more, “lo sé.”

“Say it,” he demanded.

You slipped your other hand around his back, pulling him closer, “I’m yours, Pero.” you leaned in, brushing the tip of your nose to his, then nibbling his bottom lips. “and you are mines.”

The grunt that left him at your words was primal, like a wolf claiming his mate, and before you could say anything else his lips were on yours. That was all he needed, this was home now, you were his home, and he wasn’t going anywhere.

“What about dinner?” you giggled as he kissed the length of your neck and bunched the tunic over your hips.

“That can wait, I need you, now,” he growled, walking you backward to the table.

“Wow, I thought food was your first love,” you teased as you took his hardening length into your hands,

“It is, but now it has competition with you, mi amor.”

You smiled as he moved between your legs, “say it again.”

“Mi amor.” he threw the tunic across the room and quickly covered your breasts with his mouth,

You ran your fingers through his chocolate waves with one hand, guiding his cock inside of you with the other. You moaned together as he filled you,

“I love you too Pero,” you purred.

You closed your eyes, pleasure pulsing through your bodies as you moved your hips together. Thanking the stars and sky above for their gift to you; the very thing you didn't know you wanted in the form of a grumpy mercenary who stole your heart and set your soul on fire.

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More Pedro characters | More Pero

This was a special occasion, so I cross posted. Usually I just put previews on tumblr, all my other work goes to A03. You will need an account to view my archive. Lots of my older stuff 2019 - 2022, for now, is still on my master list here too.

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[wintfleur]

stella gets tired easily so she and rutger fo dates inside watching movies & sleeping

ꔫ my sleepy girl

°. — pairings ( Estella Hughes oc! X Rutger McGroarty )

°. — details ( g; fluff. w; kissing, slight cursing. wc; 1.8k )

˖ ་ 💭 roro’s notes ( I decided to turn this into a blurb, Stella and rut own my heart )

°. — ( feel free to send any requests of things you would like to see in this series, or if you just want to share some thoughts! I would absolutely love that! Please comment if you would like to be added to the tag list! )

au masterlist — you can find asks under #💌stellahughes!

°. — asks about stella and rut are under #⋆ ˚｡⋆୨🩷୧˚ stella & rut!

°. — smutty asks about Stella and rut are under #⋆ ˚｡⋆୨💒୧˚ smutty stella & rut!

Stella tiredly walks down the hallway leading to her dorm, smiling politely at the girls she walked past. She knew she looked like a mess, she felt like a mess. Her tight bun was giving her a headache, stray hairs poking out and falling down her nape, her body sticky from sweat and God did her feet ache. Today's practice was a lot more intense than the previous ones for the week, she was finding her new routine hard to memorize so that meant longer practices. 

Her heavy duffle bag brushed against the hallway walls as she moved to the side to not bump into a duo of laughing girls. Stella lets out a heavy breath of relief when she finally stops in front of her dorm, she pulls out her keys from the pocket of her hoodie that she stole from Luke and swiftly unlocks her door. She's welcomed by the faint smell of lavender and vanilla as she opens the door to her room. She closes and locks the door behind her, slipping off her shoes and dropping her bag on her desk chair. Her feet and shoulder thanking her. 

Stella is so tempted to just flop in her bed, hiding her face in her pillows and falling asleep, but she knows she can't. She refuses to get in bed sweaty and she knows that if she gets in bed, she will fall asleep and miss her date with her sweet boyfriend. Speaking of her boyfriend, Stella pulls her phone out of her hoodie pocket when she feels it vibrate against her. A small smile forms on her pink lips when she sees who's calling. 

“Hello” Stella's soft voice goes through the phone; the sound of his girl's voice brought an immediate smile to his face. Stella walked into her bathroom and put him on speaker, setting her phone on the counter so she can start pulling the many bobby pins out of her hair and into the small clear holder for them. 

“Hey pretty girl, how was practice?” Rutgers' smooth voice fills up her bathroom and she couldn't help but smile at her words, she could tell he was smiling just by his tone. Stella gently took out her hair tire, her hands immediately massaging at her scalp at the feeling of her hair coming out of the style it's been in all day. A quiet sigh leaves her lips as she thinks back on her practice “It was alright, these spins are gonna kill me though. I just can't seem to get it right.” 

“Don't say that '' Rutger started and she could hear the faint sound of ruffling in the background, as if he was sitting up from laying on his bed. He could hear her disappointment in her tone. Rutger opened his mouth to continue, his tone sweet and encouraging “if anyone can do this routine it's you, don't be so hard on yourself stell you've only been practicing for a week.” 

“It's just so frustrating” Stella mumbled with a pout as she brushed through her hair. Stella didn't like being bad at things, she wanted to be the best she could be, and she knew she wasn't doing her best. Stella looked at her reflection in the mirror, she could see the tiredness in her eyes, nothing a little makeup can't fix. Rutger frowns when he hears how defeated and tired, she sounded, he wished she wasn't so hard on herself. 

“I know pretty, hey let's just not think about it for the rest of the night. We can talk about it tomorrow” Rutger spoke in a hopeful tone, his mind already thinking about how he could make tonight better for her. He smiles at the soft okay that leaves Stella's lips, and he listens as she starts talking about her day, chuckling at how passionate she sounded as she complained about the petty argument, she and Luke had in the Hughes siblings group chat. Interpreting herself when a yawn escapes her lips. 

And in that moment Rutger decides having a comfy date night in her dorm, cuddled up in stella’s bed, sounds a lot better than having a date in a loud bowling alley. Not tonight, he knew his pretty girl was tired and needed her rest. 

“Anyways, that little shit is lucky I’m not there to totally wreck his ass” Stella ended her small rant as she undressed and put her dirty clothes in her hamper. Stella took her phone off speaker and brought it up to her ear, and before he could tell Stella his idea of staying in tonight, she was already talking. 

“Okay, well I'm going to get in the shower. I'll see you soon?” 

“Yeah, I'll see you soon baby, be careful” Rutger trails off to a worried tone, he would always get worried about her slipping or passing out in the shower. Stella always reassured him that that never happened and that he didn't have to worry about it. Rutger decided to keep his date idea to himself, wanting to surprise you instead. 

“I will,” Stella giggled, finding his worried tone sweet. They say there I love Yous and goodbyes before Stella hangs up. Rutger smiles and shuts off his phone before he grabs his hoodie at the end of the bed and putting it on, he grabs his phone, keys, and wallet before leaving his room. He makes his way out of the house and to his car, with one destination on his mind. 

It was a known fact that Stella enjoys long showers, so she spent the next 13 minutes in the shower singing along to Mitski and Lana del rey. By the time she got out of the shower, her mirror was all fogged up. She spends the next 10 minutes drying off and changing into a matching bra and panties set and covering her body in her favorite scent lotion. 

She was standing in front of her mirror in her bathroom, wearing her beige fluffy robe and finishing the braid in her hair, when she heard the familiar knock on her door. A look of confusion comes across Stella's face, and she quickly pauses her music before making her way to her door. The sound of her cute grinch slippers patting against her floor, Stella unlocks her door and is greeted by a grinning Rutger. 

“Rut what are you doing here so early? Am I late?” Stella asked in a worried but confused tone. She honestly wouldn't be surprised if she did take too long getting ready, she always lost track when she was listening to music. Rutger laughed and stepped into her dorm room, sliding off his shoes as she closed and locked the door. 

“No, you're not late, pretty, just a change of plans” Rutger smiles, dropping the plastic bag on her bed before he steps closer to her. He softly cups her soft face looking into her tired eyes, a small smile on his lips at the cute pout she had on her soft pink lips. Rutger closes his eyes and leans down, softly pecking her lips a few times. The last one being long and hard, Stella pulling away to laugh. 

“Change of plans?” Stella asks as she tilts her head slightly in confusion, her hands coming up to softly hold onto his forearms. Rutger pecks her lips one more time before walking over to her bed and lifting up the plastic bag that was filled with some of their favorite snacks. 

“I know you must be drained after that practice, so i thought maybe we could just watch a movie and cuddle” Rutger shyly spoke with a flustered smile. He couldn't help but feel flustered as he told her his idea, it was cute how flustered they got in front of each other. Stella smiled big and watched as Rut set the bag on her side table before sitting on the edge of her bed. Stella felt very moved that he changed their date plans because she was tired. “Awe rut, that sounds perfect.” 

“I’ll set up the projector while you change into something comfy” Rutger told her, as he turned on the projector before turning on her laptop and picking a streaming app. Stella walks over to her closet and pulls off her robe and hangs it up on the back of her closet door. Stella slides on some soft hello kitty pajama pants, taking off her bra and putting on a canucks t-shirt she definitely stole from Quinn last summer. 

Stella was sliding on some fluffy socks when Rutger asked her what genre of movie she wanted to watch. “Hmm what about a drama?” Rutger looked away from her laptop and watched her with a content smile, she was standing in front of her vanity and putting on some Chapstick. Rutger loved seeing her like this, all dressed up in her pajamas…it felt so domestic, and he loved it “sounds good to me.” 

After grabbing her phone from the bathroom, she turned off her room lights and carefully crawled over Rutgers legs, and laid on her side by the wall, joining her boyfriend under the blankets. Her bed wasn't big, but it fit the two perfectly. Rutger was laid on his back, and Stella curled into his side, her leg over his midsection. She rested her head on ruts shoulder as her eyes focused on the intro of the movie Rutger had picked. 

Rutger was snacking on his second KitKat, and Stella looked at her boyfriend's side profile with a smile. His eyes lit up as he watched the movie. He was so focused, it was adorable. Rutger felt her stare and tilted her head to look down at his tired girlfriend. A shy smile on his lips “do you not like the movie?” 

“No no it's perfect” you’re perfect stella thought as she kept looking at him. Rutger nodded and brought the last piece of KitKat towards Stella's mouth, Stella giggled before opening her mouth and letting Rut feed her. Rutger grinned and kissed the top of her head, as she licked any remnants of chocolate from her lips. 

Rutger brought his hand that he fed her with to her leg, caressing the back of her thigh. Stella snuggled closer to him, nestling her face into his neck and losing her eyes. Rutgers hold on, Stella tightens, loving the feeling of her so close to him. After a few more minutes of silence between the two, stella muttered tiredly “Thank you.” 

Rutger looked away from the movie and down at Stella, he placed a few more kisses to the top of her head. His hand that was caressing her thigh moves up to rub her back under her shirt, his warm touch soothing her. Rutger would do anything for Stella, he could feel her breathing slow down, a sign that she was falling asleep. He brought the blanket higher, making sure that she was all covered up before whispering. 

“Always pretty girl” 

˖ ་ 💭 roro’s notes ( OH MY GOD WHY ARE THEY SO CUTE PLEASE DON’T BE A SILENT READER, I LOVE TO READ YOUR GUYS COMMENTS! REBLOGS ARE VERY APPRECIATED 🫶🏻 )

°. — taglist ( @privatemythss @bradenschneider )

[scenteddelusion5]

Could you write a Vox x Alastor’s Child? Wherein reader views their fights as a “bonding activity” because it relieves stress for the both of them because they’re not willing to kill each other due to not wanting to hurt reader and they’ll be civil when they need to be. A large chunk of their rivalry being due to Alastor seeing Vox as trying to steal his child from him (making them his partner both romantically & business wise, them becoming an actor) and Vox seeing it the same way with Alastor trying to drag them on random outings when they’re supposed to film or have time together. - @am-i-interrupting

"Two households, both unalike in dignity, In our unsightly hell, where we lay our scene," PART 1

Vox x gn reader (Alastor's child)

Note: At first I wasn't sure if I wanted to do this one, especially because i had already written a daughter character, already have a daughter oc myself and then would have this child. But then I had this Romeo and Juliet inspo in mind and now I wanted to do it.

!!!!! NOTE ABOUT REQUEST !!!!!

So I really liked the idea of this Vox and Alastor dynamic but I can't write short stories so instead I'm doing a 2 or 3 parter about how they got into this dynamic. So they aren't like how you requested yet.

Word count: 3436

Part 1 - Part 2 - Part 3 - Part 4 - Part 5

"Two households, both unalike in dignity, In our unsightly hell, where we lay our scene, From ancient grudge break to new mutiny, Where denizen blood makes denizen teeth unclean, From forth the innovation of these two foes, A pair of star-crossed lovers arise,"

Y/n sat on the balcony of their father's mansion. Nothing but trees, or at least hell's version of trees, could be seen from there. The bustling city was ways away from the territory most denizens were too afraid of to enter. The book they were reading was written a small auteur in hell, it was obvious that he had taken great inspiration from a much more famous work. An old-fashioned, cannibal and a modern man, with more savoury tastes, falling in love, their families hate each other yada yada yada. Nothing they hadn't read before.

The demon, whom resembled a deer, put their book down and started messing with the knobs on their older radio. It sprung alive with the voice of their father; Alastor the Radio Demon, feared all throughout hell. On his broadcast played a catchy jazz song that, every once in a while, got interrupted by agonizing screams.

"That was an amazing number." The Radio glowed green as he spoke. "It brings me all the way back to the nights I spend in the speakeasies. Let's continue on-"

Everyday Alastor would broadcast the news and gossip of the week at exactly 10 a.m. and Y/n would always tune in.

"- Oh, and make sure to stay clear of the Carmine mansion this evening. The overlords are having a little get-together. So if you don't want to be served for dinner, I recommend you go home early tonight."

Right, Camilla Carmine was holding a party to celebrate the 100th anniversary of Carmine industries. Y/n was so excited. Normally their father wouldn't let them go to parties, but considering he would be there, he allowed them to go this time.

"Lastly I have a personal message to my favourite fan. I couldn't have wished for a better fawn. I hope you liked the breakfast I cooked especially for you, that demon was a struggle to catch. Hahaha," he laughed, "see you after the broadcast. Let's put on (song), it's not really my style but considering it's your favourite, I can make an exception." Their song slowly came on while Alastor's voice faded.

Y/n hadn't made friends outside of cannibal town. They had to admit they were a bit nervous...

The day went by faster and faster as the night grew closer. Y/n had put on their green gown/suit. It was beautiful; adorned with black lace, a pattern of turns and roses sewn into it.

"What do you think?" Y/n asked while turning around.

Alastor, whose suit didn't look all THAT different from his usual one, studied them up and down. "You look delightful, fawn. Every single demon in that building will see green from jealousy."

"Thanks dad."

Despite the fact that cars were already owned by most citizens in the time Alastor was alive, he preferred to walk, even to such an important event as this. So, when the two off them arrived, they stepped in through a side door instead of the big red carpet where the limousines dropped off guests.

"Remember Y/n, don't talk to people you don't know and if something goes wrong, find me or Rosie." Alastor's antlers started to grow and static filled the air. "I'll destroy however dares to hurt you."

"Don't worry, dad. I'm an adult, I can take care of myself." They laughed off their dad's threatening stature. "But if something happens I can't handle, I'll go to you."

The ballroom was decorated with black gold and white. All kinds of denizens were roaming around, from high standing overlords to imp servants. There were no familiar faces. The only other overlord Y/n had ever met besides Alastor was Rosie. Even so they had immediately split up from Alastor in favour of exploring the buffet table.

After picking up a plate, they started picking the tastiest little snacks. There was even a few dishes with demon in them provided for the cannibals.

Vox had spent four hours making himself presentable in a fancy blue suit and a new screen protector. the other Vees had matched his style. So when the three stepped out of their high-tech car and got bombarded with paparazzi, it was clear that the three belonged together.

It isn't often that they had the chance to converse with other demons of their status. It was the perfect chance to make new connections.

Vox had gotten the chance with a few other demons before it happened. His eyes landed on the most beautiful person Vox had ever seen. Their looks hypnotized the tv-demon... Which was supposed to be HIS power.

"Hey Voxie, you never guess who I saw~... Voxie? Vox... VOX!" No matter how hard Valentino tried, he wasn't able to capture Vox's attention. "What are you looking at?..." Following his colleague's line of sight, Val's eyes landed on them too. "Oooohhh, I see~ Should I go talk to them for you, maybe I can convince them to stay the night in our bed."

Vox slightly buffered. "What! NO! I'm going myself, yeah, I can handle this myself."

Y/n was enjoying a lovely tea sandwich with raw, demon heart on it, when a person they didn't recognize came up to them.

"It's a pleasure to meet you." The man with a tv for a head grabbed their hand and placed a kiss on their hand. "I'm Vox, and you are?"

"Y/n, and it's a pleasure to meet you too," they introduced themselves before shoving another tea sandwich in their mouth.

"You must really like those sandwiches."

Y/n aggressively nodded her head. "YES! Here try one!" they shoved one of them in Vox's face who reluctantly eat it.

"Wow, that's... an unique flavour."

"Yeah, heart does taste very peculiar but I like it."

It put Vox off that the demon had spoken so casually about cannibalism, however, he was even more put off that he was just fed ACTUAL DEMON. So, when they weren't looking, he drank an entire glass of champagne in one go, hoping to wash off the taste.

"Anyway... I was hoping to dance with you." Vox offered out his hand but pulled it away again when he saw the dissapointment in their face.

"I would love too but I don't think my father would be happy to see me dancing with anyone. I'm sorry."

He thought about it for a few seconds. "Y'know I'm quite familiar with this place, there is a smaller ballroom a few doors down. If you want to, you could take me up on the offer there." The overlord suggested.

Normally, Y/n would've never said yes. Going to an empty room with a stranger who must have quite a lot of power. Only an idiot would follow him... Maybe they were a bit of an idiot but Y/n was intrigued by the man, so much so that they decided to go.

"Alright."

Hours went by while the two of them danced, talked and drank in the empty ballroom. Y/n felt themself falling deeper and deeper in love with the handsome stranger. The confident way he spoke, the way he buffered and glitched whenever he got flustered, the way he would get angry when they hurt his pride by laughing at his attempts to woo them. He was perfect.

"Now, tell me Vox. Who exactly are you? Like, I know you your name but you must have been invited for a reason, so...??" Y/n asked.

"You mean you really don't recognize me?" Vox asked flabbergasted. "I'm the CEO of VoxTech." The other demon still looked confused. "The biggest tech company of hell? We release new products almost every single day."

"I'm not big on modern technology, I died during the 1920's," Y/n explained, "I tried using a computer once and it didn't go well."

"Well, that's really no good. As a demon of high society, you should keep up with modern invention, if you ever want the help I don't mind teaching you how to use it." Vox stared at them lovingly. "You know what, I'll even give you a phone. Give your address and I'll send you on-"

"HEY! Vox!" A girl with pink and purple hair walked in. She wore a poofy pink dress and her face was covered in make-up. Her bloodshot red eyes landed on the person standing next to her friend. "Oooeeehhh, and who are you?"

"Velvette, Y/n. Y/n, Velvette." Vox introduced them to each other. "They have been great company tonight, right love?" He caressed the side of their face."

Y/n got redder and redder as the conversation went on. "Yeah, it was great."

"Well, sorry that I gotta burst your bubble." Velvette interrupted the sweet moment between the two. "But the Carmines are about to have their speech and you know how pissy those old fuckers get about shit like this."

Y/n looked at the clock hanging on the wall and realised they had been gone from the party for hours. "Yeah, I should really be going back too. My father is provably worried about me."

The three swiftly made their way back to the main ballroom, Velvette joking about the two lovebirds the whole time.

Once there, they gathered by the crowd standing around a podium. Carmilla was standing there, already holding her speech about the start of her company, the amazing growth and the future. Although a very basic speech, demons were at the fact that the Carmine had mentioned future dealings and couldn't wait for the opportunity to become a part of them. One of them seemed to be the handsome TV Demon that Y/n had hopelessly fallen in love with over the course of the evening.

"Excited I see," Y/n said while pointing to the electricity coming off of Vox, "I'm not sure that a deal with Carmilla is going to happen if you electrocuted her."

"Hey! I'm a great negotiator. Thank you very much!" The man joked.

Alastor had kept his child in his sight the whole evening.... Until he didn’t. They were right over by the buffet table just a second ago. Y/n couldn’t have gone far. So, he went on a search, but after an hour, he found nothing. He even asked Rosie for help but no luck. He had stayed looking until Carmilla started her speech and even then Alastor still kept an eye open for her.

What he never expected to see, was his child, his lovely, well-behaved, miracle of a child, to be joking around with his nemesis. And were they.... Blushing?

Static filled the air around him, symbols floated around his head. The terrifying shadow of his ever-growing antlers made every demon and demoness run out of his way.

Once he got really close he could hear their conversation.

"You're such a dork!" His child laughed.

Alastor could only see their back, but he knew what their smile looked like right now. Unlike his plastered smile that hid his emotions, Y/n's was genuine.

"I'm the dork? Have you se-" Vox's eyes drifted to the strange red symbols, when he noticed Alastor standing there. A small x on his forehead, eyes like dials and his smile wide.

Normally, during their fights Alastor would be somewhat lenient with him. He still roasted Vox to the living world and back but he never outright tried to murder him. This meant that he had never experienced the true wrath of the Radio Demon. But right in that moment, Vox felt like his days were numbered.

"Holy shit," Velvette muttered.

Noticing the two Vees were looking behind them, Y/n turned around and as soon as they did, Alastor switched back to normal like clockwork.

"Oh, hey dad!" Y/n greeted him sweetly. "What are you doing?"

"Oh nothing, little fawn," the Radio Demon spoke, distain clear in his tone of voice, "now tell me, why are you wasting your time conversing with such vermin? Especially, a styleless one like that insecure, copycat, picture box."

Vox was still staring between the two of them. Y/n was Alastor's child! The one the Radio host always talks about, the only thing that freak actually seems to care about. Why did it have to be them the overlord had fallen in love with at that ball?

"You are the Radio Demons child!" The man freaked out.

"I didn't think you would care about that..." Y/n's face turned into a frown, unlike their father’s whose grin only grew wider.

"I-I" The tv started buffering. " I don't..."

"Come one Y/n, let's find someone with more class." Alastor turned around, his child in toe.

"Wow, can't believe you got the hots for that man's child." Velvette quickly snapped a picture of Vox's stunned face and send it to Valentino. You'll never guess what happened. She typed under it.

Y/n looked down at their shoes, not wanting to see their father's victorious grin. "I can't believe you just did that."

"Whatever do you mean, little fawn?"

"You know what," they replied sounding angry this time, "why did you scare away the first real people I made friends with here in hell?!"

Y/n had never had an attitude before, never talked back, never even sounded annoyed. It scared Alastor for a few seconds. "That... Vox isn't the type of person you should make friends with'."

"Isn't that for me to decide?" Tears filled their eyes and their voice was strained. "I want to go home."

Once home, Y/n attempted to rush up the stairs but was stopped by Alastor’s shadow grabbing them by the arm. They were struggling to get away when Alastor cupped their face with his hands and looked suspiciously in their eyes. He was searching for something.

"Let go of me!" Their eyes glowed as they screamed.

When Y/n tried to pull away again, Alastor's grip tightened. "You've never acted like this before. He must have hypnotised you, so be a doll and let me find his spell!"

But no matter how much he searched for even a sign of demonic manipulation. Did Vox not hypnotize them? Then why were they.... Because of Alastor's second of confusion, Y/n could quickly pull away. They rushed up to their room and locked the door.

Alastor just stood there, stunned until a knock came from the door. He straightened his suit before opening it.

"Hi Alastor, I saw you two... Leave and thought you might need a listening-ear." Rosie stepped inside and made her way to the dining room. "Besides I could really use a cup of thee after such a long night."

"You know me too well, Rosie. I'll get some snacks too."

"They've never even raised their voice at me before but one hour with that noisy rectangle and Y/n is acting like a rebelious teen." Alastor took a bite from the index finger snack. "I tried to look for a sign of hypnosis but there was nothing. What did he do to them?"

"Ever thought about it that Vox didn't do anything?" Rosie suggested.

Alastor's pupils turned into dials. "Hmm? What did you just say?"

"Ya have to think about this differently." Rosie took a sip from her tea. "A demon always buried in their books with little to no interaction with the outside world goes out for the first time in years and meets a charming man who's interested in them. It's just like one those romance tropes they always reads about."

The other overlord considered it. "Then what do you suggest we do about it. How can I show them that they deserve much better?"

"First of all, have a conversation with them. A genuine one."

"And then?"

Rosie's smile showed her sharp teeth. "Then-"

Vox was still buffering from that crazy night. He fell in love with ALASTOR'S CHILD, for god's sake. He was connected to his advanced computer, rebooting his systems. Images of Y/n, memories he saved in his files, flashed over the many monitors in his room. The doors to his office opened revealing the other two Vees.

"Damn, Voxie. You've never had to reboot after we've 'hang out' before." Valentino leaned over his colleague's shoulder. "You aren't going to demote me from being your favourite, right?"

"I wouldn't sound so confident Val. Vox was pretty hooked last night, you should've seen him." Velvette pulled up the picture she took. "This photo doesn't do his obsession justice."

"Stop it, Velvette." The TV Demon unplugged himself from the computer set-up. "It's never going to work out anyway. And it's all that shitty, old demon's fault!"

"You really think that?" Velvette asked. "I mean, they looked pretty interested to me... You could always go over to them and explain yourself. Oh and while you're there, try to find a snoop that'll make my drama Sinstagram go viral."

"Voxie doesn't need them. Just stay with me and I'll make you forget them in just five minutes." The moth demon's cigarette smoke formed a heart.

The screen buffered once more. "Get out! The both of you."

"I'll wait in my room." The two Vees made their way out.

Once he was sure they were gone, Vox pulled up another file. Y/n's beautiful face showed on the screen and their addicting laugh filled the room.

Y/n sat against their door, crying. They could see the moon through the balcony window. It's red light filled the room. They couldn't believe their father had reacted like that. And they couldn't get the face Vox made when he released their connection to the Radio Demon out of their head. It plagued their mind since the moment it happened.

Their room seemed so small, so empty, so cold. Nothing had physically changed but mentally, emotionally, everything was different. They got a taste of that beautiful romance and it was taking away from them in the blink of an eye.

Y/n was so deep in their self-pity that they didn't notice the moonlight was blocked by something. They were jolted out of their own thoughts by a knock on the window.

Looking up they saw none other than Vox standing there. His suit was covered in dirt and branches that he got certainly caught in on his way there.

They quickly walked over to open the door, stumbling on their way.

"Y/n, I- uhm, you must find it weird that I show up on you balcony like this." Vox's screen got slightly red. "I wanted to apologize for this evening. I don't care who your father is, I- uhm I care about you."

"Vox, I need you to be honest with me. Did you hypnotize me?"

Y/n's sad look broke his heart. Who got into their head that he hypnotized them?

"Y/n, I didn't and I will never do it." He put his hand on their cheek. "I promise."

Blush decorated their face. "Then can you tell me what's going on between you and my dad?"

"Of course."

The two sat on their bed, cuddling. Vox had told them about everything. The start of their feud, his constant fighting with Alastor but also the fact that he fell in love with them at first sight. It was a lovely, domestic moment.

"One time I got so angry at your dad that I made a complete smear campaign against him. it didn't work out, he completely cut off all my broadcasts, all seventy channels."

"I think he once told me about that," Y/n laughed, "you get more under his skin then you think. Even before he saw he two of us together."

"If you say so..."

Their banter went on for hours. The two did their best to keep sounds to a minimum so Alastor wouldn't find out.

"Oh, before I leave, here." Vox handed them a white box. "it's a phone. I made sure to remove all spying devices and I programmed you a special assistant. It should help you figuring out how it works."

"You put spying devices in people's phones?"

"Uh-I"

"Don't worry, I get it. It's hell. There is no need to explain yourself."

"Right." Vox tried to laugh it off like Y/n was doing. "It's getting late, I should go. Wouldn't want the Radio Demon to know I'm meeting up with his daughter without a chaperone."

This time when Y/n was separated from Vox, they felt fine. Because they knew that he loved them. They were still longing for him, but not in a sad way. It was pure, romantic love.

Part 2

Masterlist/request guidelines

[novelizt]

EXPECTO PATRONUM I ☁︎ ANTHONY LOCKWOOD

⚜ PART 2 | SERIES MASTERLIST

GENRE ➺ HOGWARTS AU [slytherin! lockwood x fem! ravenclaw! reader]. rivals to lovers (and a dash of 'everyone knows but them'). fluff and angst.

WC ➺ 13.7k

SYNOPSIS ➺ after a six year rivalry with lockwood, your patronus suddenly matches his when it didn't before.

DISCLAIMER ➺ reader is implied to be shorter than lockwood. appearance of harry potter next gen characters and a few ocs. lockwood calls reader 'sweetheart' and 'my dearest vexation'. prefect! lockwood. (i also headcanon him being a cunning-flirt, so lockwood might read slightly ooc.)

WARNINGS ➺ strained family dynamics (for reader), love potions (misuse of magic), dragons on the loose, wizard duels, and a lot of unpolished dialogue.

NOTES ➺ it's been a long time coming. i hope this finds you when you need it 💙 happy nanowrimo !!

this was originally a one-shot that got split in two. please read part two after this to see their happily ever after 💙

For every Gryffindor came a Slytherin waiting to trouble them. You thought you were in the clear after you'd been sorted into Ravenclaw four years ago. So, you questioned how you had the misfortune of being vexed by a serpent such as Anthony Lockwood.

He boasted the status of being the sole muggle-born Slythern in your year, as well as a colossal thorn in your side. He made it routine to test you. You knew his M.O. well enough to recognize the sound of his footsteps before he even reached you.

"We're learning advanced protective charms in Defence today," he announced like you didn't speed through the syllabus already.

You didn't have to look at him to know he was sporting that lilted smile of his. If you were in a bitter mood, you might have even slung a hex at him.

Luckily for him, you just wanted to get through the day. You quickened your steps. He followed like a parasite.

He even had the gall to bend at the knees to be at eye-level with you, the right side of his mouth curved higher than his left. "Come on, sweetheart. Not even a nod of acknowledgement?"

"If it will get you to leave me be..."

You granted his request and even offered a stiff nod, hoping that would suffice.

You hoped too much because all he did was grin and return to his regularly scheduled goading by matching your stride.

"Away with you," you shooed.

You threw your arm out, aiming for his shoulder. He caught your hand before it even made contact—giving your knuckle a quick tap just to aggravate you.

"I know that trick, sweetheart." He unfurled fingers from yours, slow and deliberate. "Let me walk you, at least. I am a gentleman. Oh– Don't make that face. I really am!"

"If you are such a gentleman, you'd pay attention to my request and leave."

"Suddenly, I'm a barbarian." He shot you a wink that made you wish the floor would swallow you whole. "I could do much worse, you know. Have you heard of oobleck—the stuff muggles are raving about? Bet you'd have a jolly time finding out how to get a non-Newtonian fluid out of your hair."

He feigned a yawn, dropping an arm over your shoulders and giving your arm a subtle squeeze to drive home the fact that he had no intentions of letting you go.

"Arse," was your gracious response.

"Oh, don't be like that. If you are going to play that game, I do have a divine rump. So do you," he said without missing a beat. He played a fool to your slack jaw and widened eyes. "And would you look at that! We've arrived to your classroom. That wasn't so bad, was it?"

If only looks could kill.

Your systems stalled when he dipped his head and planted an ever-cheeky kiss on your temple.

It was futile to throw out a fist to dent that pretty face of his, because he caught your hand before you could even land a hit.

"Cheeky," Lockwood crooned. He tapped your nose before letting you go. You made a show of flicking off the invisible mites he gave you. "Nice try though, sweetheart."

"You—" When you tried to stomp on his foot, he veered out of the way, finessed as a Chesire.

At that point, you knew you were fighting a losing battle. You lifted your chin and crossed the threshold into Potions, ignoring the exorbitant waves and kissy faces he made at you.

Your classmates levelled you with looks of intrigue but you ignored them, too.

Of course, Lockwood had to have the last word. "Remember not to mix up your asphodel and lavender. Wouldn't want another smokey incident, would we? You basically handed me that perfect score."

You tried not to shrivel when a ripple of giggles disrupted the stillness of the classroom.

You threw a nasty look over your shoulder and turned sour when he left, his laugh echoing down the hall. You estimated that he'd be a few minutes late to his class, even if he had to run to make it. Poor chap.

Finally, you were rid of him, but the newly realised smell in the room replaced his slot as your morning vexation. The smell of old parchment, clipped grass, and (much to your bereavement) the Lockwood Stench viscerally assaulted your senses.

You blanched, falling into your seat. "Heavens, did he leave his perfume in here? It smells awful."

As if seeing his face wasn't bad enough, he managed to be the subject of your irritation even if he was absent from the room.

James Potter II, your seatmate and friend, laughed. Eyes crinkling like he knew something you didn't. "He, meaning Anthony Lockwood?"

Your lip curled at the name. Even while preoccupied by your review notes, the smell clouded you. Your attempts to wave away the stench only made it stronger.

It wasn't the worst smell in the wizarding world but you'd rather go through the only class you don't share with him without the incessant thought of him. A huff left you as you came to peace with the fact that your nose would lose its sense eventually.

James's most devious grin stretched across his face. "That's Amortentia over there."

Your breath caught. He jutted a finger at the cauldron that sat at the end of your two-seater desk.

Surely enough, the brew had a pearlescent sheen with curls of peach smoke spiralling into the air, infecting the room with its fragrance. Now that you'd been made aware, your ribs felt too right for your lungs.

Your laugh came out stiff. You coughed, hoping it sutured the cracks in your façade. "I was mistaken then. I only smell the Quidditch Pitch."

James hummed, unconvinced.

—

Time passed slower when you were dying to forget the incident at Potions. Your eyes kept jumping to your watch before the middle of the day had even passed.

Classes had come and gone, and a certainly foul smell clung to the walls of this classroom—as was always the case for Defence Against the Dark Arts. For a moment, you missed smelling the amortentia, then jolted at what other thing that implied.

You knew class started when your peers fell silent, listening attentively on tipped toes. It was every man for himself on days the tables and chairs were pushed to the side of the room.

"On this fine day, we are covering a very tricky, but very utilised charm." The Professor circled the room, inspecting posture and wand grip as she passed.

For a moment, her eyes fell on you, and you stiffened under her gaze. Her lip quirked, like she found comfort in scaring you.

You were made aware that she was a rival of your grandmother's, back in their heyday. You surmised that because she couldn't get one up on your grandmother, she transposed her efforts onto the next best thing: You, and she wasn't afraid to show it.

Her heels clicked, grating your ears as she went on to terrorise a few more unfortunate souls in the way. The vast majority were daft to her impartiality.

She went on a lecture about the charm's importance in the Battle at Hogwarts. You were about to doze off when she slapped her wand against her palm. "Now that the lot of you are in your fourth year, I feel that it is important to know how to cast it in light of grave circumstances."

She waved her wand and muttered a few words before a silvery line jumped from her wand, spinning in the air and illuminating the room before taking on the shape of a rabbit.

The silvery manifestation hopped along with great speed, passing you briskly and making you stumble.

A hand caught your arm before you hit the floor. You were quick to retrieve yourself when you realised that it was Lockwood. You tuned out his mild laugh as you turned away without thanks.

The patronus then skidded to a halt at James's side, speaking in the Professor's voice. "I expect you to know this, Mr. Potter."

It dispersed and a vicious applause shook the room. Even you found yourself wide-eyed in exhilaration. Fighting the fact that the professor was rude, the patronus charm was something you'd been dying to learn way back when.

In the midst of the celebration, your eyes caught Lockwood's, only to find him already staring. There was a pinching sensation in your gut. It forced you to look away. You missed his smile completely.

The Professor ordered the class to break into pairs. Lockwood glued himself to your side before you could blink. He was shooing people away before you could even shoo him away.

"She's got a nasty temper, that one. Wouldn't want her patronus to lunge at you."

"I will have it bite your head off," you murmured, watching a nice Hufflepuff back away. Thus, leaving you alone with the bane of your existence.

"You're too nice for that," Lockwood replied, tapping your side with a half-smile.

"You just said I have a temper."

"With me, yes. But I can handle you."

You had a lot to say about that. The Professor spoke before you could.

"Now," Professor mused. Her voice bounced off the walls in higher vibration. "Using the instructions in your books, attempt to cast your patronus. Remember! The lighter the memory, the more efficient the patronus."

A chorus of turning pages echoed. You and Lockwood withdrew your wands, already knowing which spell to use.

His lips quirked. "Did some advanced reading, did you?"

"You know me so well."

You shook in anticipation, but, after shortly regarding your partner, you refrained from looking too eager.

"Dunderheads first," you urged with false cheer.

The insult flew over Lockwood's head. "Gladly. I like to think my patronus would be a lion."

You couldn't help but snort. "I assume yours would be a housecat with a lot of overgrown hair."

"That would be you."

You had an inkling that he found joy in watching you frown.

After a long while and a generous amount of griping, his wand moved, and he muttered, "Expecto patronum."

A silvery burst of light exploded from his wand. Wisps spun in the air before the dust settled, revealing a crane. It stretched, showcasing several inches of its incandescent neck and wingspan before Lockwood waved his wand once more. The motion sent it in a circle around the room.

It was so majestic, you couldn't pry your eyes away. Other students stared in envy as the crane weaved past other patronuses, nipping at them playfully before soaring back to you.

Wait, not to you... At you.

You found your feet, ready to duck before the silvery bird crashed into you, but it never did. It dispersed before it even touched a hair on your head.

It was an explosion of silver sand. It brushed your cheek with unexpected warmth. The cold seeped into your robes as the darkness veiled you.

"Shame." Lockwood clicked his tongue. "Thought I could freak you out a bit. I couldn't hold it for too long, though."

"Truly a shame," you simpered.

Professor's applause rang out from the other side of the room. Likely for Lockwood's expert execution or his taunting you. Mayhaps both.

"Good work, Mr. Lockwood! Keep practising and your patronus could glide over the Atlantic one day."

"Hear that?" He brightened at the compliment, standing taller as he leaned toward you. "It's your turn, dunderhead."

The number of hexes you could have used . . . You didn't need them. You needed happy thoughts to conjure up a patronus. It was hard enough standing in the same room as Lockwood and Professor Loathes-Your-Guts.

Your inspirations were of holidays and golden scores; your parents' approval; Lockwood falling on his face during Quidditch (your lips twitched at the memory); and the muggle fantasy novels you hid in your room.

A warm feeling shot down your arm, heartening you to mutter the enchantment. The feeling wrapped around your body like a blanket, and when you opened your eyes, your own patronus stared back at you.

It stood metres above the rest, towering over students and patronuses alike. Wisps of silver waved to and fro its body. The only apt description for it was 'colossal'.

"Is that a giraffe?" Lockwood muttered.

"No, It's a pelican." You smiled at his frown. "Of course, it's a giraffe, Lockwood."

You'd never seen one so pretty.

It glowed so bright that Lockwood looked blue in its light. He spared you a look of resignation.

You win.

A swell of pride came to the surface before the patronus wilted away. The space it stood turned black.

Hollers rung out, shaking the bricked walls. A new wave of excitement seized the room. You didn't even glance at the Professor but you could feel her heated gaze on the back of your head. That was victory enough.

—

Three years following that day, you're harrowed by the thought of leaving this place behind. Hogwarts felt like home, more so than the one you shared with your parents.

It was difficult to imagine life without the sky above the dining tables or the constant presence of Prefects scolding lower years.

Soon, your rivalry with Lockwood would fade to the black, too. As far as you knew, the fool was gunning to be an auror. Becoming one yourself wasn't a path you were inclined to take.

You passed the hourglasses of House Points and watched as more trickled into Slytherin's glass, and you felt nothing. The fact that you came to peace with having less points should have been concerning. Your mother would scorn you if she ever caught you thinking that way.

Not wanting to linger, you turned for the dining hall.

You didn't flinch when a weight fell over your shoulders and Lockwood's pretty face invaded your periphery. You should have known he couldn't leave you alone for too long.

"Lockwood."

He grinned. "My dearest vexation."

Your nose scrunched, irritation injected with the smallest feeling of familiarity. "Don't call me that."

"Copy that," He smiled, dragging you closer by the arm around your shoulders. "sweetheart."

It was a lost cause to correct the priss.

"I thought you would've matured by now. Disappointing, really."

"I could be mature, or I could point out the fact that we have fifty points above Ravenclaw."

"I don't mind."

He stalled, and you stopped with him. You didn't really have a choice when he had you under his wing.

He searched your eyes, bewildered. Unsettled, even. "What's on with you?"

You tried to shrug him off but he held fast, fingers practically melded to your arm. "I'm fine, thank you very much. I just don't see the point of upholding this... this–" What was this? You didn't finish the thought before swaying the conversation elsewhere. "We're graduating this year. Might as well set an example for the first-years."

"Our squabbles make it fun for them." On the brink of being offended, he insisted, "They have plenty of examples as is. Kat Godwin sucks the life out of everything, George is best friends with Moaning Myrtle, and Lucy is off talking to the illusive Gray Lady."

You groaned. "That isn't the point."

You made an attempt to shove him, but he caught your hand.

"You have got to start thinking of better ways to express yourself other than hitting or shoving. You should know I always see it coming."

"I can express myself just fine," you respired, yanking your hand away. "But do go ahead. Indulge me. What, pray tell, does that make us?"

Lockwood flourished his free hand as he spoke. "We are 'the arch rivals who makes their problem everyone's problem'. The lower years adore it!"

"Do they?"

In time for your asking, a group of second-years waved at Lockwood, and then to you. He waved back whilst you offered them a terse smile.

One of the girls elbowed her friend. As whispery as her tone was, everyone still heard her. "See? Told you they suit each other."

"They are a couple. Of course, they do," the friend replied.

"Not a couple," you corrected swiftly.

They scurried faster. Before they left the hall, one yelled out, "Just kiss already!"

Despite his matching flush, Lockwood turned to you with a cheeky grin. "You heard them. Let us kiss." He advanced, lips puckered.

You blocked the way with your palm, spreading your fingers until you could push his head back by his forehead. "Yeah– No."

You pried yourself free from his grip to sit with your friends. He didn't fight it, but you weren't surprised that he shouted after you. "But I was right! We have to give the audience what they want!"

"Mr. Lockwood!" Professor McGonagall stood to reprimand him.

You turned away to hide a laugh.

—

The day was lovely. The previous day's rain left a dewy haze in its wake. It was chilly but not cold, and the sun and clouds looked remarkably friendly that morning.

Even then, you didn't know what it was. Your stomach churned for a reason unseen. In the stillness, you could hear a pin drop. You could hear yourself think for once.

Not long after the nagging feeling arrived, you came to the horrific conclusion that Lockwood's absence felt off-putting. You were walking to potions class alone, for the first time in years.

There was no Anthony Lockwood galloping behind you, throwing his arm around you and messing up your hair when you shrug him off. There was no warning as to what your class would be covering that day or a passive-aggressive jab about the most recent Quidditch match.

And, bizarrely, you missed the chaos. You shuddered as the thought struck you.

You held your books tighter and quickened your pace to get to class. When you arrived at Potions, Lockwood-less, your classmates stood to verify the emptiness of the doorway for themselves. Even they were puzzled.

James cocked a brow as you sat and laid out your items without a noise. "Where's lover boy?"

"Using his brain and finally leaving me alone," you responded, wincing at the hint of exasperation in your tone. You didn't mean to sound so dejected, and you definitely didn't intend to slam your things on your desk either. There's a lot of things you didn't intend to do today and 'mentioning Lockwood' was now at the top of that list.

"Mhm," James leaned back in his seat, eyeing you warily. "You don't look too happy."

"I stayed up late doing that essay about counter-potions," you reasoned, having a hard time getting the words out.

James looked pained when you mentioned it. Seconds later, you stifled a laugh when he admitted to forgetting all about that assignment.

Contrary to what you'd promised yourself, Lockwood remained in the back of your mind the entire period.

—

When had Anthony Lockwood ever been interested in Oriana Cai?

That's the first question that popped into your head as you watched him kneel before her with a bouquet of the reddest roses you'd ever seen.

The display was so unexpected, it knocked the air out of your lungs. Your jaw fell slack. James had to pick it up off the ground before you came back to your senses.

In that time, Oriana squealed and clapped, throwing herself forward and strangling the bane-of-your-existence in a hug he enjoyed a little too much. The flowers ended up discarded on the floor.

You had more sense than to gawk. Your chest constricted when Lockwood didn't even acknowledge you as you passed. You shook off the feeling along with the sense of dread you felt from earlier.

His affairs were none of your business, yet, you found yourself thinking about it when you didn't intend to. It's a stake to the heart that his scheduled banter and crude comments were put on hold for whatever that was.

Lockwood had forsaken his seat across from you in favour of sitting with Oriana and her clique. They laughed all through lunch break, his teeth on display, stuck in an unmoving smile.

He looks like a clown, you thought as you skewered a floret of broccoli onto your fork.

You glanced at the professors' table to see if they'd caught onto Lockwood's bizarre behaviour, but they were daft to it.

To any normal person, Lockwood was being a silly boy with a crush. To you, it was abnormal.

Lockwood didn't have the balls to be that forward. How could you say that without sounding obsessed with him?

"If you stare any longer, you might actually burn a hole through his head." James nudged your side and you returned it with a harder shove. "Woah! Cool down, smarty pants. I'm on your side here. I'm just saying, glaring daggers at him won't do much."

"He's being odd," you whispered petulantly.

"I know!" James set his elbow on the table. "What are you going to do about it?"

"Me? Why would I do anything?"

Your eyes landed on Lockwood again. You sucked your teeth before looking away.

James snapped his fingers, forcing you to look up as he pointed an accusatory finger at you. "That. That's why you would do something."

"I don't meddle in Lockwood's affairs. He can do whatever he wants," you said tersely. "If he's so immersed in his romantic life, I might as well get ahead and score more points for my house."

"It bothers you, doesn't it?"

"No." Another unfortunate vegetable faced the wrath of your fork. James flinched. "It doesn't bother me in the slightest."

"If you need me to help, just give me a bell." James vacated his seat, gave your shoulder a firm pat, then went off to check on his cousins, praying none of them caught whatever Lockwood's got.

You stewed in your own thoughts before you gave into temptation and looked at Lockwood for the last time. For lunch, at least.

He blinked rapidly, like there were stars stuck in his eyes. The distorted look on his face dissipated when Oriana popped a wad of gum into his mouth. He chewed and chewed until the colour returned to his face. Redder than before.

You tried to shovel your conspiracies down with your lunch. You even chewed slower to put your focus elsewhere, but you couldn't shake off the dread that roiled in the recess of your mind.

—

"I can extend my essay by three paragraphs," you said to Lockwood in the library, attempting to coax him out of his stupor. "I'd beat your record."

"Yeah." He sighed, daydreaming. He hadn't written anything in his scroll. His competitive spirit died somewhere between his confession and now.

You slid into the seat across from him and waved in his face. He looked right through you, staring at the wall. When you followed his gaze, your expression fell flat.

He wasn't staring at the wall, he was staring at Oriana Cai, again. She wiggled her fingers at him, giggling behind her hand.

The moment she saw you, she didn't even attempt to hide her disdain. Suddenly, the library felt colder than before. For the first time in forever, you couldn't find the right words to explain it.

—

You watched Lockwood's change of behaviour with a scrutinising eye. You managed to pick up on a few things that changed.

First, he was infatuated with Oriana Cai. You caught them snogging the other day and you had to hold your breath to keep your lunch down. So much for decorum.

Second, he'd lost all interest in everything other than his girlfriend. He hadn't mentioned Quidditch in the past week, and he didn't have a modicum of concern for his plummeting scores. It was a scenario you never thought possible.

Lastly, Lockwood had a newly acquired addiction to bubblegum. Not just any type of gum. It was Bombarda of Flavour: Berry Kiss.

With a bit of research, you discovered that BOF was a brand run by Oriana's family. Any sane person would assume that Lockwood was an avid fan of his girlfriend's family business, but you were everything but sane.

When you presented the facts to James, he continued to chew on his liquorice. "And? Where is this going?"

"The sweets are infused with Amortentia," you concluded.

James stopped, stared at his liquorice with distrust, then threw it into a bin. "How can you be so sure?"

"Cai's family runs a gum business. Lockwood's been acting weird since he started chewing the gum Cai brought him. It can't be simple coincidence."

"So, not only are you accusing Cai of spiking gum with amortentia, but her family of being an accessory to misuse of magic as well?"

"They've got to be aware of what she's doing, at least! And they're not stopping her, are they? They're just as guilty," you said fervently.

"Fine," James relented. "How are we going to prove that and save your guy?"

"He's not my guy."

"Sure."

You cleared your throat before sitting down. "We need to steal from the potions classroom."

"You are... insane."

There was a bated silence that followed. You raised your brows at him.

He cracked a smile. "I'm in."

—

Potters had a speciality for breaking rules. You came to that conclusion after James, Albus (James's younger brother), and Scorpius Malfoy managed to steal the ingredients you needed without being caught. They looked quite proud of themselves too.

You wasted no time laying out your theory scrolls and recipe book.

"What's she doing?" Albus asked.

"Saving Lockwood," James answered as-a-matter-of-factly.

"I knew something was wrong with him," Scorpius rasped. "Knew something was up with them too."

You silenced him and ordered James to escort the boys back to their dorm. They didn't go without a fight, but James was experienced enough to wrangle them away.

—

"Lockwood—"

He passed you without a second glance.

Your heart flatlined, but you fought against the feeling and recalled why you were there. You steeled your resolve.

With shining eyes and pulled shoulders, you pivoted and captured his arm. The indifference in his eyes was an arrow passing straight through you.

You had to swallow the lump in your throat to find your voice. "Could you try this for me?"

There was no readily available remedy for amortentia, leaving one with the mere hope that its effects diminish over time. The problem was that Oriana Cai had a continuous supply of bewitching gums intentionally keeping him under her enchantment.

You used all your potions knowledge to concoct a solution that would—cross your fingers—work. It was blended into a scrumptious looking cookie thanks to the expertise of culinary enthusiast, George Karim.

You were worried that he wouldn't even give it a try, but he took the package from your hands.

"Thanks."

He walked away without a second thought. It tore your heart in two, but he accepted the cookie! You raised your arms in triumph, stopping short when he tossed the cookie and its cute wrapper out of the nearest window.

Your excitement plummeted along with it.

—

You took a chapter out of Lockwood's book and persevered. He no longer competed with you to answer the professors' questions, but you took every chance to goad him into a debate. All for naught. He barely did anything anymore.

You tried to cure him several more times with the same anti-Amortentia solution. Three times to be exact: ice cream, soup, and—your most desperate attempt yet—gum.

In the end, he'd throw them all away.

All he would put in his mouth was anything Cai spoon-fed him. It made you want to throttle him.

Lockwood was a capable wizard, and the witch had reduced him to something short of being a man-baby.

On your worst days, you'd reluctantly admitted to missing the banter. Even his annoying grin; the one that rose higher on the right side. The same one that had eluded you since the beginning of term.

The seasons changed. Oriana Cai still had Anthony Lockwood under her thumb.

You melted into the velvet blue couch, sighing to the starlit window of Ravenclaw turret. Even the sheer beauty of the common rooms did little to console you.

You draped your arm over your eyes. "Who knew things were this boring without that pest?"

James, who wasn't even supposed to be allowed into the tower, grasped his chest. "Ouch. What of the rest of us?"

"Rowena!" shouted George. You jumped when he slammed his book shut. "I thought your raving about your books was bad enough. Just tell him you miss him already,"

He was done with you sneaking James in to concoct whatever else you were thinking up. He had lost the plot. At that point, even he was versed in anti-amortentia theory.

"She doesn't miss him," James sighed, bored. "apparently."

"I don't," you said promptly. "Karim, you should be more concerned. Your friend is being spelled into being a muppet."

"I am concerned," George retorted hotly. "But I am so sick of staying up 'till Merlin knows when to find out what you're going to spin into a dish next. I can't even study in peace!"

"We're not that bad, are we?" Looking for backup, you propped your chin over the back of the couch, shooting your most precious smile at your youngsters, Lorcan and Lysander Scamander.

Lorcan shook his head, and Lysander nodded his.

"It's a draw," James chuckled.

Frustration poured from George. "Can you please just find somewhere else to scheme? I want to study and not hear 'Lockwood' every bloody second."

"Fine." You hugged your pile of recipe pages to your chest. "We'll go somewhere we're appreciated."

"Oh, please. Don't go too far. The end of the world doesn't actually exist," George nipped.

James snorted, amused.

You closed the door behind you, finally giving Ravenclaw Tower some much deserved silence.

—

Another crumpled up piece of paper rolled on the rim of the bin before unceremoniously falling out.

You knew your onions, but this was getting tedious. After wasting hours relishing in the staleness of your coffee and the soreness of your fingers, you were just about ready to throw in the towel.

James had left you a bit ago, something about helping Lucy with setting up the flying lesson for the first-years.

They were probably done with it by then and you were still there, trying to brainstorm a method that would knock some sense back into the tosser you called a rival.

About a metre of wasted scroll and dried ink were the results of your efforts. Even then, you didn't reach a plausible solution to your problem.

When you succumbed to your headache and glanced at the clock, the lateness kickstarted your bloodstream. When you stood, you swayed from the dark spots that danced in your vision.

You didn't allow yourself to stay in a haze for too long. You had already missed two and a half classes by the time you broke out of your reverie.

The halls were all empty. You were bound to be in trouble.

You were a punctual student, an excellent student. You were miffed that all it took for you to slip was the absence of a boy. Pathetic. Then again... The boy was what made winning fun.

Your brisk walk quickened to a jog, dreading the inevitability of explaining your tardiness.

"Sweetheart?"

You paused, opening your ears.

Silence.

You scoffed and picked up your stride. Then you heard him again, saying your name. It was odd — odd enough for you to realise that it wasn't a figment of your imagination.

His voice was a trap and you submitted to it too easily. You spun back around to trace the voice and stopped short of the bend. Anyone would have stalled at the rare sight of Oriana Cai angry, her nails sinking into Lockwood's cheeks.

Bile rose to your throat.

Lockwood's back was pushed flush against the wall, he was fervently shaking his head like he was shaking the daze out of his system.

"Quiet!" she commanded him. "Darling, I'm only doing this for us."

His hand closed around her wrist but whatever the potion had done to him left him fatigued. "No, my—" He licked his bottom lip, correcting himself. "She's—"

"Not here! How many times am I going to tell you?"

To your relief, she retracted her nails from him. Your heart started back up when she produced a pack of gum.

"You're better off with me, Ant. I love you, not her. She's nothing but a bitter wench who didn't realise what she had until someone took it from her. See how she only looks for you when we're together? She's selfish!"

"You don't understand," he tried to slap the gum from her hand but she was more sober than he was. For the first time in a long time, the right side of his mouth tipped up. It wounded you. "She needs me. She just won't admit it."

Oriana didn't take it well. Her face bursted in shades of red. Her beautiful features twisted into a grizzly scowl. "None of her!"

"Expelliarmus!"

Your hand quivered as you casted, but your magic did what it was meant to. The gum flew from her hand.

Her glowering face turned to you with killer intent.

"You!" She flew at you. Her billowing robes a thing plucked from your worst nightmares.

Your hand flicked instinctively. "Expecto patronum!"

She shrieked. Your silvery protector crashing against her face.

None of you saw what form it took, but the burst of silver straight into her eyes stunned her long enough for you to run around her and take Lockwood by the arm. His hands quivered; less from adrenaline, more from pure exhaustion. You could almost feel his pulse under your palm.

You coaxed him to muster his strength. "Come on, you barbarian. We need to get help."

The chuckle he let out was pathetic, but it's familiar enough to make you crack a smile. There's your Lockwood after all. He wasn't all gone.

"Knew you'd save me," he rasped. You held him tighter when he stumbled. He held on with what strength he could muster. "You always do."

Not the time to disarm you with a statement like that. An angry stupefy soared overhead, quickly followed by what you assumed was the cruciatus curse. You grunted when an angry zap nicked your side.

You held onto Lockwood and he held onto you, both clattering down the longest steps of your lives. An inspired, deranged girl at your heels.

"Give me my boyfriend back!" She shrieked, casting a fury of spells at you. The echo of the halls amplified her bellows. "He's mine! I earned him!"

He tripped on a lifted tile, leaning on you as you rushed for the landing.

Your heartbeat made it's way to your ears. Every breath felt forced. You pushed ahead, dragging Lockwood's weight down every winding twist in the moving steps.

A very explosive bombarda forced you to stagger back and reconsider your escape route. Only, there was no escape route. The changing stairwells had you and Lockwood trapped on a landing.

Oriana descended like an angel made from her own delusions.

Your lungs struggled to take in air with an unbearable stitch in your aide. Lockwood collapsed to his knees, drained of energy. As his eyes fought to stay open, he clung to your hand like it was his lifeline.

You shifted to hide his crumpled form from Cai.

"You've had your chance, Scarecrow." Cai laughed, on the brink of tears. In her eyes, she was as innocent as a girl who simply had something swiped from her. "He was at your knees for years! Why can't you let him be happy with me? Give him to me, please..."

Your jaw tensed. The lick of anger in your chest stoked to a fire the longer she spoke.

"He's not an object," you managed without spitting flames. "He can feel what he wants, when he wants. If he wishes to walk away from me after all this... I wouldn't blame him. But casting a spell on him? That's not love, Cai. It isn't love. You're trapping him."

Cai's nose flared. "What a saint! Sorry, should I let him grieve something he never had with you? You're blind to not see it. You ruined him! This is the only way. I can help him if you just let me—"

Something moved in your periphery. A mop of black hair, the best wingman in Hogwarts.

You were on the verge of a smile, feeling your adrenaline decrescendo. "Your family, they know what you're doing?"

She grinned. "My family supports my decisions. Contrary to yours, I hear. They agree that you're a heartless witch, and a dose of amortentia should fix him for me."

Your breath hitched. Lockwood clenched your hand, bringing you back.

"For your information," your lip twitched. "I'm an Eagle, not a Scarecrow. Get your house representatives right."

You collapsed the moment a barrier surged around her, her screaming muffled by the incantations.

James came down the steps in stride with Professor Flitwick.

"Not 'your guy', huh?" James taunted, crouching beside you. You offered him a tight-lipped smile.

Professor Flitwick fortified his barrier before he addressed you. "Splendid patronus. You're the first to project your voice and have it travel as far as it did. I expected no less from our ace student. As for Ms. Cai..." He looked at her with pinched brows.. He wasn't sure what to do, really. There had never been a situation that drastic before. "She will be penalised accordingly."

The weight on your shoulders lifted, but a new one came just as quick. You straightened your back to support Lockwood's limp weight.

The warmth of his breath fanned your neck, a feeling that made your stomach churn for all the wrong reasons. He still smelt like the berry-flavoured gum that got him into this mess in the first place.

The same mess that had made you miss a few classes for the first time in six years.

With the last of your energy, you raised a trembling hand. "Professor?"

"Yes?"

"Are we considered tardy?"

He pushed his glasses higher up his nose before replying. "That should be the least of your troubles, you." Professor Flitwick turned to your friend. "James Potter?"

James saluted. "I've got them, prof."

"Please refrain from calling me 'prof', Mr Potter."

"Yes, prof."

—

Madame Pomfrey had a lot to say about the unforthcoming mess that was Lockwood, post-Amortentia.

For the better part of the appointment, Madame Pomfrey concluded that Lockwood wasn't severely altered by the prolonged exposure to love potion. For the worse part, he was advised to sit out of anything too physically demanding until he felt like himself again.

"But how can I feel like myself without Quidditch?" he agonised, as if you beheld all the answers.

You were forced to hear it, seeing as you were roommates until Madame Pomfrey declared you both stable enough to go free.

You buried yourself into the stiff pillows of the medical ward. "A week of rest and observation isn't as bad as the months you were bewitched, honestly."

"Pray, how can it be worse?"

You lifted your head. "Ever read out a lengthy love poem in the middle of the dining hall?"

"No..."

Your lips tipped up. "Yes."

He shut his eyes and splayed his hand over his head, trying to wash out the visualisation of actually doing that for all of Hogwarts to see.

"End me," he rasped.

"If you insist," your smile stretched. "You recited one for breakfast, lunch, and dinner. Every. Single. Day."

He slapped another hand over his face. "Oh... what have I done to deserve this?"

"Caught the eye of a loony, apparently. It was horrid. I felt sorry for you."

"Don't patronise me."

You jerked a finger at him. "I earned the right. I got a nasty laceration in my side for you. Unwillingly, might I add."

His arms fell away, honeyed eyes set on you. "Please, if you were unwilling, you wouldn't have tried so hard to save me."

"If I left you for dead, I would be a monster."

"A very pretty one," he chimed.

"So you can still pull that drivel out of your arse. Good to know we didn't lose you."

"Say what you will." He crossed his arms behind his head, smiling like a jester. "I know you have a place for me in that shrivelled, darkened heart of yours."

"My heart isn't shrivelled or darkened," you said defiantly.

He quirked a brow, smirking. "You correct that but not the fact that I have a place in it?"

"You—" You opted to chuck your emptied juice carton at him.

In classic Lockwood fashion, he caught the carton in his hand and waved it triumphantly. "Try again, sweetheart. I know your habits like I know the back of my hand."

You raised a not-so-friendly finger and slid your curtain to hide yourself from his view. Still, you heard his laughter, loud and alive.

You weren't aware of how much you'd missed it until you caught yourself smiling.

—

Anthony Lockwood was the kind of child who would climb up the slide. Not because it was fun, but because he liked the thrill of breaking the rules.

Some things never changed, because he had convinced you to accompany him on a night fly while Madame Pomfrey was off collecting herbs from the green house.

You had flown through the worst weather while playing Quidditch, but it struck you that you'd never been out this late. Not one-on-one with Lockwood, at least.

It was a terrible, unsafe idea, but he had a way with words. He made it seem like a once in a lifetime opportunity. You weren't sure whether that was true, since he did use his prefect status to sneak into places he wasn't allowed into.

You knew that turning around was crossed off your list the moment he broke into the closet and extracted your broom for you.

"I have a hard time believing you've never done this before," you whispered as you took in the sight of the Quidditch Pitch, void of life and light.

It was a haunting sight, but Lockwood had been right about it being a once in a lifetime scene. The moon was the only guiding light, drowning everything in a seductive mauve colour. It brought out the beauty of sparse light and silhouettes, you almost believed you stepped into one of your fantasy novels.

He flashed his teeth at you before he vaulted over the partition and traipsed across the grass. His trusty broom already levitating by his side. "I've never done this with you before, if that's what you're asking."

It wasn't, but you didn't want to know who else would join Lockwood in his idiocy.

You followed suit and mounted your broom, allowing yourself to rise several metres to feel the bite of the nocturnal chill.

"It's an amazing feeling, isn't it?" Lockwood shouted, his two feet still on the ground.

"I'm not going to admit that I enjoy breaking the rules," you responded, flying modest circles while taking in the scene.

While the wind whistled in your ears and tousled your hair, he wheeled a box out of storage and flipped the latches.

You squinted, trying to see what he was doing but his back was covering the contents of the box.

"What's that?"

A golden streak of light veered away from him. Even as the breeze bellowed in your ear, you could hear its tinkling wings.

The Snitch.

"Can't have fun without a challenge," Lockwood said. His boisterous laughter echoed in your ears as he hopped onto his broom and zoomed up, up, and up, already chasing the golden menace.

He passed you, his robes grazing your elbow. You didn't think twice. You gave chase, following the direction you had seen the Snitch blitz to.

Lockwood's curls fought against velocity. You were almost tempted to comment on it before you saw a glimmer in the corner of your eye.

You and Lockwood swerved at the same time. Waves of black, blue, and green flagged through darkness as you bent forward, urging your trusty broom to overtake Lockwood's. You were closing in on the Snitch, stretching your hand to reach for it.

It's buzzing crescendoed in your ears, forcing your blood to pump as Lockwood did the same.

Oh, so close.

The Snitch brushed your fingertips before it zagged. Spinning in the air before rushing right at you.

You bent your body, narrowly missing a Snitch to the nose. The same couldn't be said for Lockwood.

You heard the thump of the collision before you saw him clutching his mouth. It was futile for you to hold in a laugh.

"You alright?"

His glare only made you laugh harder.

"Ouch," he hissed, taking his hand away from his mouth.

You snorted after seeing the damage.

Luckily, nothing was broken, but there was a faint pink smudge across his bottom lip and cheek.

You raised a brow. "You wear lipstick?"

"It's lip balm," he said haughtily, wiping away the smudge. "Is there something wrong with that?"

"No," You held a laugh long enough to reach across to wipe the smidge he couldn't quite swipe away. He stiffened at your touch. You did your best to hold in a reaction of your own. "I just didn't expect you to be a lip balm sort of guy."

"Do I look like a lipstick guy?" he inquired, regaining himself. "Thank you for thinking so, but you can keep your pigmented cosmetics to yourself. They look better on you anyway."

"Complimenting me now? You're sure your noggin's alright, chap?"

"Don't 'chap' me, sweetheart. It makes me feel old."

"I thought you liked the seniority," you taunted. "'Being in seventh-year means the youngest look up to us' and all. Your words, not mine."

"You're a real ray of sunshine, aren't you?"

You gasped, clutching your chest. "How can you say that when the moon is out?"

"Oh, bother." He bristled. "You've shown greater concern for the moon's feelings than you have mine for the past six years. You wound me."

"That's because the moon listens. You never do," you pointed out.

"I do," he replied. "Only for things that matter."

"So, the camel-llama debate didn't matter?"

He ran a hand through his hair. "You're still on that?"

"I always will be. What muggle can't tell those animals apart? You should be ashamed."

"We were eleven!"

"Old enough for you to have admitted defeat, but no! You kept getting them wrong and saying you were right." He pinched his nose as you went on. "Then you started bothering me because you couldn't admit defeat. Now look at us. Six years later and I'm still right."

His eyes met yours, creased with an impending smile. "When we passed the hourglasses, Slytherin was ten points above Ravenclaw."

"You prat—"

Your head was thrown sideways as a flit of gold smashed into you. Your lip pulsed. Luckily, you had the mind to stretch your hand and catch the golden bugger.

The Snitch fought in your grip. Eventually, its wings tucked in. Then, a bated silence. Only for a moment. Lockwood snorted as you massage your jaw.

You gave him a nasty glare. "Not a word."

"I wasn't going to say anything," he lied. "Except, your lipstick smeared."

"Rowena..."

"Here, let me."

He sported a boyish grin as he reached across, mirroring your actions from earlier. You swatted him away and he simply laughed in response.

—

With your feet on the grass, you were glad to be done with your excursion; More relieved that he let you take the win.

You're not sure a bleeding lip was worth it though, but, at least, it was over.

After packing up the Snitch and putting away your brooms (plus making it seem like you two had never been there at all), you started the walk back up to the castle's medical ward.

Somewhere on the cobblestone path, Lockwood had drawn a curious notebook and quill from his robes. "So," he flipped to a page that had been sectioned into two, scored by stick lines. "What have I missed while I was bewitched?"

You eyed the notebook. "Is that... a tally?"

"Yes," he replied. "Now, what did I miss? I had one up on you before my memories went hazy."

"Just start a new one," you urged him.

Thinking of what you achieved while he was out of it was in the same league as winning a race against a slug. There was no fulfilment.

"C'mon," Lockwood cajoled, stepping closer to you. "I've been tallying since fourth year."

You raised a brow. "Fourth year?"

"The class on the Patronus charm inspired me," he replied. "Since we're always butting heads, having a tally made it feel official."

"How do I know you haven't picked your wins and excluded mine?"

"Have you no faith in me?"

"Do you want a real answer?"

He pursed his lips, earning a laugh from you.

"I respect you, you know. Even if you are the way you are," he told you, turning the notebook to show you the tally.

The first column was his score. The second one beheld 'vexation' instead of your name. The scores were neck-and-neck, save for the singular tick on his side that put him in the lead.

He quickly drew one more stick under your column, putting you two at a draw once more. "I'll count this impromptu Quidditch match, on the condition that you won't tell a soul that it was me who snuck out first."

"You must be dedicated," you chortled. "Just count from here on out. I haven't done much, honestly."

He quirked a brow, speaking slowly. "Are you sure?"

"Yes. Why are you talking like that?"

"Nothing. I'm just surprised." He closed the notebook and pocketed it with his quill. "You're usually more competitive."

"That's when I don’t spend an afternoon running for my life, Lockwood."

"You make a fair point."

You were making your way into the thresh of the castle now. The torches warmed the air, thawing the chill as you flounced forth.

There was a peace in the silence and a sweetness in the solitude. You felt Lockwood's hand brush yours and found that you enjoyed it more than you thought. Not that you would say anything about it.

You're not sure whether he caught on to the lilt of your lips before he threw his arm over your shoulders, just like old times.

This time, it felt different. The heat he let off was a juxtaposition to the bite of the night, and you found yourself melting into him even more.

You would have been fine in the quiet, but Lockwood had never been friends with it.

"George told me you were scheming to cure me. How were you planning to do that exactly?"

He kicked a pebble out of your way. You withheld the urge to smile.

"It was an amplified version of a regular love potion reversal. Same one we did research work on last year."

"What did you change?"

"Thrice the dose of rosemary and dried salamander. I also added a touch of pig tongue."

"Wouldn't doubling the wormroot do the same thing?"

"No," you scoffed. "That would expel the fragrance, but it wouldn't counteract the effects of the love potion."

"Doesn't the dried salamander do that?"

"Rosemary thins out the viscosity of the love potion and the dried salamander washes down the magic that messes with your thought process."

He smiled but there was no commitment in it. "Apologies, I'm no love potion whiz."

"Next thing you know, you'll be telling me crushed jasmine will cure insanity."

"I get it, sweetheart. That doesn't explain the pig tongue."

"I was hoping the horrid taste would wake you up from your delusions."

"I think it would have worked."

"It would have," you boasted, "if you had any sense in you to try."

He chuckled, apologising in smiles. Lockwood closed the distance by ruffling your hair. You waved him away, but that did little to stop him.

"You got the higher mark on that research paper," he recalled.

"I did." You glowed with pride. "As is always the case for Potions, and Transfiguration, and Charms—"

"What are you planning to do when we're done with Hogwarts?"

His expression turned dire, like he had been agonising over when to ask the fated question. It might have been a trick of the light, but his eyes glazed.

You considered his question for a moment. "I'm expanding into healing magic." Just envisioning how far your knowledge could go brought a smile to your face. "I'm good at the cardinal subjects for healing. I enjoy them enough to see myself heading in that direction."

"That's serious," he said, genuinely taken by your answer. "You have to be recommended by a professor to take on a role at a hospital or ward, don't you?"

You tried to keep your smile humble. "I already have a recommendation."

He tilted his head so you could see the surprise on his face. "Really? Who?"

"Madame Pomfrey. I'll be her apprentice next year. Hopefully, I'll move to St. Mungo's in a few years."

"Funny," he jested, bumping your hip with his. "What would she say to the bludgers you've batted at me?"

"Your insults about me are tantamount to nothing in her eyes. She adores me."

"Because you're a kiss-up?"

You stopped, jabbing a finger at his chest. "Because I have wit."

His lips lilted into that smile you knew so well. The right of his mouth rose higher than the left, short of turning into a smirk. "You have a lot more than wit, sweetheart."

Your heart did unspeakable things. For a heart-stalling moment, you forgot to say something back.

You looked at him, he looked at you. He was closer than you'd thought. Lockwood was unfairly dashing in torch light. Windswept hair, sweat on his brow, and everything.

He seemed to drift closer and closer, but it's you who inched forward. The lesser the distance, the more honest you felt.

His eyes dipped to your lips and—

A shriek, high and shrill, broke the spell. Both you and Lockwood leapt apart. You dusted off your cloak and he rubbed his nape.

The shrieking voice returned. "Dragon!"

Dragon?

You lurched for the entrance. You couldn't see much in the mouth of the castle. Neither could Lockwood, but you felt it. The buzz before the chase, the stacking of adrenaline and the thrill of trouble creeping up on you.

Your eyes locked with his, and you knew you're thinking the same thing.

When the winds of a Romanian Longhorn flattened the trees and blew out the torches, it was the flag at the beginning of a race. You and Lockwood were running for it.

—

You found that sprinting in the dark was akin to swimming upstream. You'd tripped over several roots and rocks, and you still haven't found which pocket you hid your wand in. It was a humbling experience, being in the throes of losing something with extension charms in your robes.

After furiously tapping himself down, Lockwood found his. He flicked his wand and yelled into the air, "Accio Brooms!"

"Why didn't we do that earlier?"

Lockwood flashed a smile. "We have an excuse to destroy the storage room door now."

You were on the verge of yelling. "How would we explain why we're out here?"

"Don't think too hard, you'll hurt yourself." He made another gesture with his wand before a glow illuminated from the tip of it — lighting up the path. "We'll cross that bridge when we get there, sweetheart. We have a dragon to catch."

As the Lumos rose in intensity, the path turned treacherous. The cobbled walkway was turning into pointed stones and angry branches. The trees began to move, contorting into all sorts of grotesque shapes and snares.

Lockwood had taken the lead, taking the brunt of their greedy clutches. You had to grab the back of his robe to make sure he didn't get snatched away by the foliage.

You would have buckled at the wooden stakes that bent toward you if your brooms hadn't snapped through their grappling, snapping inferior splinters before you found your grip.

The uptake was sharp, desperate to get away from the furious trees. You clung to your broom and swallowed down the urge to retch.

Lockwood, who had levelled beside you, looked fine. You would have thrown a rock at him if you weren't turning green.

He set a hand on your back, rubbing slow circles as he surveyed the area. You appreciated the gesture.

"It's heading for the Quidditch Pitch. If we get there fast enough, we can trap it there. Easier to manage in a controlled area."

"It's a dragon, Lockwood. It would burn the place down." You straighten up ever so slightly. "On top of that, it's a Romanian Longhorn."

"I know. Endangered species. We'll have to be cautious. She could turn us into a kebab." His lips tilted into a smile. "I wager we can tame her in less than an hour."

You exhaled the last of your nausea. A grin forming on your face. "Think half."

"Ambitious, aren't we?"

You flew forward, seeing the whiskers of fire curling in the distance. "Scared, serpent boy?"

There were flames in his eyes as he sped ahead, robes soaring behind him. "Never!"

—

"You distract her. I stun her," Lockwood prompted as soon as the Quidditch Pitch came into view.

Metres above you, the Longhorn huffed plumes of smoke down on you. You tried to be quiet, but you did have qualms with Lockwood's plan.

"You're the faster flyer, why am I the distraction?"

He pointed at his chest, like that was the answer. "I'm still recovering."

"That's rich!" You still haven't found your wand and the tosser was playing sick. "You dragged me out here to fly thirty minutes ago. Don't give me that."

"What? I can't hear you!" He veered further from you. "You're the most capable witch of our age. There is no one else I'd do this with!"

He was gone from sight before you could bump him off of his broom.

Then again, you'd rather die fighting than die a sitting duck. You angled your broom up, zooming into the beast's sight before it spotted Lockwood.

Its breath was sulphur against your skin, fighting the chill but lighting a spark of fear. Its pondering yellow eyes circled on you before its mouth creaked open.

"Lockwood, work quickly!"

In a dragon chase, one must remember three things: your size advantage, the dragon's breath hurt as much as its fire, and the dragon can and will play dirty.

You were an agile flyer, ducking whenever the strokes of its inner fire hurled for you, but even you had to exercise all of your flyer's knowledge to evade its claws. A swipe, a lick of flames, a swipe, another swipe — it was practically toying with you.

The only good thing that came with it playing with its food was the fact that you had lured it right where you wanted it.

The Quidditch Pitch was gargantuan compared to the juvenile specimen. You just hoped the place wouldn't go up in flames.

You hadn't seen Lockwood in a good minute, almost believing he'd shirked you, but then you glimpsed a flicker of serpent green in your periphery and ease up.

Before long, the dragon grew tired of the play and decided that she wanted to sink her teeth into something real.

You felt a nip at the end of your broom and zagged in the air. You steadied your mount before feeling your blood rush faster.

She was snapping at you. You chanced a glance and found the black in her eyes flattened to slits, hunger dancing in the embers of them.

"Lockwood!" you cried, narrowly dodging an eager claw. "Double time!"

"I found a soft spot! Give me a minute!"

"We don't have that much time," you surmised based on the increased momentum of the beast's strikes.

After a full turn-around to swing her tail at you, you dove. Nose aimed right down to the grass. You didn't even want to look back and see how close she was.

Gravity would be on her side but pulling up now could mean flying right into her furnace of a mouth. You didn't know which gruesome death was the lesser of two evils.

In the distance, you heard Lockwood. "Stupefy!"

The dragon nipped on your broom once more before you felt a tug on your robe. Your grip slipped, your broom flew in the opposite direction. Leaving you to crash and roll into the grass, ignoring the pain of carpet burn as you helped yourself onto your feet.

You didn't get far before your legs collapsed, your whole body weight crashing on your shoulder. You were never the type to go down without a fight. You kept kicking in a desperate attempt to escape the giant.

"Lockwood!"

"Wait for me!"

You felt its breath. Molten and fear-rushing, melting the hair on your legs as you watched your own reflection in its eye.

And then, its head hit the ground and its jaw lulled. Craning open but never snapping, just barely missing your foot as you pulled your limbs towards yourself.

The lines on Lockwood's face were deeper when you laid eyes on him. When he saw that you were alright, his expression flipped like a switch. A smile formed on his face, like you didn't almost lose your life.

He hopped off of his broom and approached.

"I didn't know you could look scared."

"I was almost a dragon's dinner," you spat.

You didn't fight him as he hooked his arms under yours and hauled you up. He kept an arm around you while the feeling returned to your legs.

He chuckled in a way that could make anyone believe he was faultless. "Sorry. It was a bother finding a soft spot. This big girl has pretty solid armour for a juvenile."

"That is the last time I ever follow your instructions. I knew getting mixed up with you was a death sentence."

"Yet," he chirped, brushing off the soot remains of the edges of your hood. "you're standing here, alive."

"I regret trusting you."

"No, you don't." He flourished a hand at the slumbering beast. "Just look at what putting your heads together did."

"It won't stay asleep forever," you whispered.

Just standing there, right at the alcove of its jaw, felt like standing on the tightrope of death. Suffice it to say, you wanted to be elsewhere.

You tasted the sweet, cool air as you replenished the oxygen in your lungs. Annoyance crept in as you realised that, despite your best efforts, you were still heaving. Adrenaline refusing to crest.

You tried to shove Lockwood but he had caught your arm. "Had to wait 'till the last minute, didn't you?" you nipped.

"I just told you, it's not easy to look for a chink in a dragon's scales. Be optimistic. I could have let her take your legs."

"You wouldn't."

"You're right, I wouldn't, but it's nice to imagine that I could be spiteful."

You snorted, trying not to flinch as the beast blinked its bleary eyes at you. "Let's put the big guy to sleep. Whoever takes care of him must be worried."

"She's a lady," Lockwood corrected.

You forced a smile. "My apologies, I didn't have the time to check in the midst of my near-delimbing."

"Easy mistake." He shrugged. "How about we tie up those loose ends?"

"We would've had it done by now if you stopped chattering."

"Last I checked, you were chattering back."

"You—"

The dragon blew out a warm breath, chilling you. You would've crumpled if Lockwood wasn't holding you up.

"Never you mind," you rectified. "You know the Sleeping Trance Charm, don't you?"

He balanced you on one arm, his hold snaking around your waist. With his free hand, he raised his wand at the dragon. "How to Pacify A Dragon 101. Of course, I do."

"Semi-circle motions," you reminded as the giant gold eyes blinked at you.

"I know that already, sweetheart. You know," Lockwood trailed off. His eyes landed on you. You ignore it for the sake of your already racing heart. "We make a pretty good team."

You allowed yourself a smile. "When you're not being insufferable."

"You always think I'm insufferable."

"So, you are self-aware."

"Oh, shut up." He didn't sound like he meant it.

The world must have been pitted against you, because the drowse in the dragon's eyes disappeared before Lockwood could even mutter the spell.

Its jaws widened, and Lockwood pulled you back just before they snapped. Half a foot from taking a chunk out of you and Lockwood.

"That's not good," Lockwood grunted. He accioed his broom closer. By how hard he was pulling you, you assumed he was trying to get you to clamber on as well.

That would be dooming the two of you. Being a singular target was like turning yourselves into a barbeque.

You pushed him away, catching the panic in his eyes for a moment.

You threw your arms out, signalling him away. "Go!"

Lockwood stalled, hand on his broom. "But—"

"Go!"

He mounted reluctantly. Taking off to grab the Longhorn's attention while you were squabbling for your broom.

When you found it, your worst fears were confirmed. The world really did want you dead.

Your broom was snapped clean in two after colliding with the base of the highest hoop. Mourning your trusted companion wasn't an option, because the dragon had spotted you. Its neck craned, rearing like a snake before it struck.

You tapped your pockets, desperate to find your wand. Not in that pocket, not in that one—

At long last, you fished it out of your most unused pocket. You pointed its end at the beast but a flash of green and silver disrupted your vision.

A tug on your arm and the feeling of rising winds brought you to the present. Lockwood had grabbed you and given you a seat on his broom, saving you from a very fiery end. The patch of grass you were standing on was charred to a crisp.

"Calm down, sweetheart. I can feel you shaking." His mouth was at your ear. You shrunk even more to hide from his view.

Your heart lurched as the Romanian Longhorn roared. You leaned closer to Lockwood, feeling the steady lub-dub through his shirt. It sang your anxieties to repose.

"We need a new plan," you told him, trying to keep your mind in one place. "I don't think she'll fall for another one of our two-person schemes."

"We're one broom down, so, how do you suggest we do that?"

You two watched as the Longhorn stretched its wings, kick starting your panic.

Lockwood leaned forward and tapped your leg. "Hold on tight."

Your hands on the broom fastened until your knuckles turned bloodless.

With renewed determination, he said, "We have to try the Sleeping Trance Charm again."

"While it's wide awake?"

"I'm sorry, would you like to ask her to sit and make it easier for us?"

You pinched his arm in response. The gesture was returned with Lockwood twisting his broom to have you two dangling upside down. One hand jutted out and grabbed Lockwood by the cloak.

"Lockwood, you prat!"

"Say sorry."

"You — Gah! Sorry!"

He smirked as he righted the broom.

Given a new perspective, you wheezed. "We have to do something before it burns down the whole pitch."

"We could summon the rest of the brooms," Lockwood suggested.

He flew higher as the Longhorn swiped for your legs.

"That would just make a mess. She can burn them. Then we'd have a bigger mess to clean up, plus a debt to whoever owns those brooms."

"Well..." Lockwood looked down at the dragon. "I could offer a special deal on pens to rack up enough pounds to pay it back."

"Pens?"

"A muggle writing device. Better and cleaner than ink and quill," he quipped. "I sell them to earn a few pounds. Don't give me that disapproving look, I gave you one for your birthday."

You reeled. "That's what it was? I didn't think 'pens' looked like that. They're supposed to be made of metal, no?"

"The archaic ones, yes. Now, there are plastic, ballpoint pens."

"Why are we talking about this? We can be turned into crispy bacon at any second now."

"Sweetheart, it's either we sacrifice the brooms or we turn into bacon, as you so nicely put it."

Your heart lurched. "My mother would kill me if we fell into debt, Lockwood. Thinking about it now, she'd behead me if she finds out about this mess."

He was genuinely perplexed by the fear that laced your voice. "I thought you were from a pureblood family."

"I am!" You trilled, sounding like you needed to prove something. "But things aren't that easy. Things are earned."

"They would understand. This is a life or death situation here!"

"No, I– Just– We can't."

"Okay..." He did his best to calm you down. It didn't help that he could practically feel the dragon's breath at this distance. "We ditch that idea. How's a firework charm?"

"Yes! Good idea."

You readied your wand. Only to stop short as silver-blue figures circled the dragon. It didn't take a genius to spot a patronus, a handful of them. You spotted a silvery cat crash into the dragon's side.

A non-corporeal patronus materialised at your side, speaking with the voice of Professor Flitwick. "Do your best not to use explosives. Her caregiver's orders."

More patronuses rose like shrouds of smoke and magic, disorienting the dragon in the midst of them. Some were fully manifested, some were faint — like they had been casted by a novice.

One look down confirmed your thoughts. Students and teachers alike were casting patronuses to keep you and Lockwood from turning into Dragon Dinner. Others were busy casting a large-scale protego to isolate the creature.

The Romanian Longhorn's only choice was to fly higher and higher. Lockwood followed, strategically hiding behind patronuses as they passed.

"You have your wand?" Lockwood inquired as the air began to thin. Breathing was a task you had to do consciously to stay awake.

"Of course, I do."

"This is our chance," he told you. He poised his wand.

You raised yours, too. "I'll cast a patronus to hide the glow of the Sleeping Trance Charm."

"Here's to hoping we keep all of our limbs."

He eased closer. You readied yourself, going through all of your best memories. You didn't go back to thoughts of your favourite books or your academics—No. Your mind kept circling back to your earlier moments with Lockwood: the sneaking out, the snitch, that moment at the threshold...

Blue sand trickled from the tip of your wand. Kicking up magic that twisted into the form of a crane. Your brows furrowed as you muttered the enchantment again, only for the patronus to stretch its wings and soar towards the dragon.

You threw a glance at Lockwood from over your shoulder. "I told you I would cast the patronus."

"You are," Lockwood quipped. He did a terrible job of hiding his smile, voice pressed like he was using the last of his air to say it. "That's your patronus."

"No, it's yours." Your tone lacked conviction, and substance — seeing as the crane did burst from your wand.

Lockwood chanced a glance at you, giving you a glimpse of that smirky smile that you'd recognize even in another life. "Have something you need to tell me, sweetheart?"

"Piss off," you said. You pulled his cheek forward, forcing him to face the winds of the dragon he was supposed to be charming. "Focus on what you have to do!"

"We'll get back to this."

He aimed at the dragon and muttered, "Dormitus."

Its eyes were locked on your patronus, following its path, unaware of its eyelids drooping and its waving wings slowing.

Slowly, the dragon began to lose altitude. Closer and closer to the ground as students and professors scuttled out of the way.

The winds dissipated as it laid its scaled head on the grass, finally quelled.

You expelled a breath you were holding in. Lockwood did the same, you felt his chest flush against your back as he laxed.

Lockwood landed a ways away and dismounted first, helping you off but never actually letting you go. Your connected hands dropped between you as you both took the time to calm your heartbeats.

A deranged laugh slipped from your lips. "If you weren't such a danger magnet, you'd have a promising future as an auror."

He looked at you, a confusing mix of disbelief and hope on his face. "You mean that?"

You shrugged with a lipped smile. Not even his habit of looking at the floor could hide his smile from you. You could see it clearly as the sun rose higher.

The moment of peace was interrupted by the furious shuffling of boots on grass. You raised your heads and spotted the unmistakable figures of Professor McGonagall, Professor Flitwick, and Hagrid.

"There you are." Lockwood said charmingly, casting a smile to match. "We were just about to come and ask what we should do about this—"

McGonagall called you both by name. Even you flinched at her vehemence.

"Why, I never!" She looked between you, clear aggravation carved into the lines of her face. "In all my years, I have never seen such a display of recklessness! You could have died. How could we ever explain that to your parents?"

You watched Lockwood's smile widen. A precursor to him saying, "Professor, with all due respect, my parents are dead."

Professor McGonagall was speechless, momentarily at a loss.

You took the chance to fill in the silence. "And I do believe Mr. Harry Potter has done worse."

Her eyes hardened as she wound her cloak tighter around herself. "I apologise for my earlier statement, Mr. Lockwood, but this kind of disobedience and endangerment cannot be tolerated. I expect you both to know where this is leading."

"Cleaning the toilets?" you two said in sync.

"Worse," Professor McGonagall looked quite proud of herself. "Detention."

You and Lockwood sobered.

"Professor, I'm a prefect," Lockwood reasoned. "And still in recovery."

"And I'm your best student," you chipped in. "Certainly, that means something."

McGonagall tipped her chin. "Then you'll be pleased to hear that the pair of you are the first to make it to detention with those accomplishments." Her tone turned frosty. "Friday evening. You know which room. Good day."

You were still reeling when Professor Flitwick motioned to his mouth. "You two should clean yourselves up, lest some misunderstand the smudges on your lips."

Hagrid flashed you two a friendly smile as you and Lockwood disconnected arms to swipe at your lips.

—

Detention didn't last too long. After a good three debates where you and Lockwood vaulted between being friends, being enemies, and being on the brink of committing murder, the kind, ghostly professor in charge let you free for his own sanity.

—

By the time you two returned to your regularly scheduled programming, Cai had been expelled and given a fancy room in St. Mungo's. Lockwood was properly compensated by the BOF company, and the pair of you received an additional fee to assure your silence. You gave your word, but one, James Potter, never made the pact. He reported the happenings to his father and promptly had the company shut down for misuse of magic.

Best wingman, indeed.

In the aurora of a half-realised friendship, you allowed Lockwood to keep his arm on your shoulder as a form of gratitude. He took every chance he got to practise his privilege.

He pulled you closer, practically nuzzling your hair. "You do appreciate me, after all."

"Barely," you replied.

The admission was enough to bring a smile to his face. If you got too soft, he'd assume you transformed into someone else entirely.

Lockwood, himself, had returned to his usual self; disputing you in class, outdoing your word counts, and (a recent development) stealing your quills to replace them with pens. How the professors didn't notice was beyond you.

You missed the banter and the thrill of the competition, but not the dingy smell of the DADA classroom. It was as pungent as always.

"Seventh years." The Professor's tone was different compared to the hundred lessons you've had before this. Dare you say she even sounded melancholic. There's a gaggle of students that laughed about it but she was more lenient, she said nothing to them. "This is your last year in Hogwarts and your last year under my tutelage. This year, we focus on practicality and efficiency. Using your knowledge against another witch or wizard."

She flicked her wand and the crowd parted, pulled in opposite directions by invisible hands.

Gasps rang out, friends clung closer to each other, and you grabbed Lockwood's sleeve when you were shoved aside. His arm dropped to support your weight by the small of your back.

You looked up and he was smiling down at you, the right side of his smile higher than the left. Familiar. Though, he was rather close.

You opened your mouth to complain, only to shudder at the sound of glass breaking. The chandelier above fell, and Professor proceeded to transfigure it into a glass cage of sorts.

She looked pleased with herself as the crystalline cage settled into a dome shape, resting both hands on her wand as she beamed at the parted crowd. "Today, we duel!"

You covered your ears at the sheer volume of your classmates' bellows. Several students looked forward to this day. They could finally let loose and cast spells like they were meant to. The girl to your right bit the end of her wand, looking a lot like a panther ready to lunge.

You grimaced and sent your prayers to Rowena Ravenclaw to save you from the hungry ones.

"Looking forward to it?" Lockwood asked, glueing himself to the spot next to you, chivalrously blocking you from the onslaught of moving bodies.

You could barely see him because the lights have been dimmed to bring all eyes to the duelling cage. You didn't know why you were even searching for his eyes in the first place.

"No," you finally answered. Your eyes landed on the cage, catching the faint veins of blue shift in and out of existence around it. Kind of like the webs of light at the surface of muggle pools. You would have missed them if you weren't squinting. "I aspire to be a healer. This is the type of thing I advise against."

He caught on to the magic, too. "Don't stress too much. The cage is enchanted to snuff out all malignant magic to avoid injury."

"How do you know?"

"That's a large-scale protego charm. Knowing the professor, she tweaked it to limit anyone who goes too far." He nudged your side. You heard the smirk in his tone. "Not bad for an aspiring auror, right?"

"Right," you agreed.

You didn't expect him to sputter. You shushed him when several heads turned your way.

"What was that?"

He patted down his robe, like it would help him collect himself. "That was surprise, sweetheart. I didn't expect you to agree with me."

"Are you suggesting that I'm unnegotiable?"

"No," he answered. "You simply... oppose me most of the time—all of the time."

"You're very easy to oppose. I just pick the choice that has a lower mortality rate. You always seem to be doing dangerous things, Mr. Lockwood."

"I'm Mr. Lockwood now, huh?" That smile again.

"Yes, you are."

"Could you call me that more often?"

His smile made you conscious. You crossed your arms over your chest, like that would protect you. "Why?"

"I like how it sounds," he replied. "I'd do just about anything to hear it again."

"Hm..." Your eyes drifted to the sparks of spells being swished back and forth. The cage turned into a mirrorball. "Win your match."

Lockwood drew himself up to full height, rolling his shoulders back with a confident grin. "Easy."

"Really? Easier than being love-spelled by a fangirl?"

Your stomach turned. That's how you knew you'd said something wrong. Your stance changed. You almost hit yourself for saying something so uncalled for.

He opened his mouth to defend himself but the Professor's voice cut through his.

"Anthony Lockwood and James Potter versus Daria Thomas-Finnigan and..." She dragged the silence on, smirking as she finally uttered your name. Professor Loathes-Your-Guts clearly, still, loathes your guts.

The room divided into two once more; those cheering for Slytherin and Gryffindor, and those cheering for Ravenclaw. The energy could rival that of a Quidditch match.

"May the best team win," was Lockwood's cold farewell. He was gruff and unjesting—a complete departure from his usual visage that it scared you. He had never been so forbidding to you, even as rivals.

He and James entered on the right wing, and you and Daria entered through the left. The circle under you lit up blue. The Professor's magic gripped you, encompassing your whole body.

Lockwood had been right. Professor kept strict tabs on everyone in the cage, and you regretted stepping in when you looked across the way.

Both Lockwood and James were ready to kill. It was an exaggeration, but you'd never seen either look so deathly competitive.

Daria's hand on your shoulder reeled you back to the present. She graced you with a smile. "Gryffindor might have good fighters but we've got something better." You were tempted to say 'female anatomy' but she spoke over your thoughts. "We've got brain."

You drew your shoulders up and gripped your wand fiercely. You faced forward as the Professor yelled, "Start."

⚜ PART 2 | SERIES MASTERLIST

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13: Little Life

Lando Norris x OC (Violet Sinclair)

same group friend, unrequited love, acquittances to lovers, ski trip, love triangle, life as lovers

Words: 4.1k

Warnings: a lot of fluff

a/n: any guesses of what was the gifts Lando gave her?? just a miracle I had any ideas of what to write bc i'm sick lol :)

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Never in my life I imagined I would be that nervous. I wasn't nervous during my graduation from college, nor during my job interview where I had to translate a really complicated text. I was nervous the last time I had to face my ex, that man that tried to force me on my birthday. But it wasn't the same nervous feeling as the one I have right now.

Waking up on Christmas Day felt different. As a kid, the first thing you do is run out of bed and go to the living room to open all the gifts under the tree. 

But now,  waking up next to him, felt different. Today I was going to his parents house, with gifts for them in our hands.

“Morning” he whispered, burying his face in the space between my neck and shoulder, pressing a soft kiss in my skin. “Merry Christmas”

“Merry Christmas” I smiled, moving closer to him. “I have a present for you”

“I have one for you too” he whispered. “I left it under the tree”

I giggled softly and looked at him, cupping his cheek with my hand and kissing his lips softly. 

“You are the first guy that slept in this bed” I confessed. “I never imagined I would say something like that to you”

“Why?” he smiled weakly, brushing the hair out of my face.

“Well… As you may remember, I moved to this apartment a year ago, after the incident…” I sighed. “And since that I never felt comfortable around anyone except for Harry”

“Owen…” he sighed and somehow I flinched after hearing his name after a long time, making him wrap his arms around me tighter. “Look, I know sleeping in the same bed as someone else is already hard. But… I just don't want to force you, okay?”

“I mean… I already gave you head, silly” I whisper. “I feel really comfortable with you, I swear”

“I'm glad to hear that” he smiled, kissing my forehead. “Just know that I would never ever force myself into you. Never”

I looked up at him and smiled, pecking his lips softly. I just wanted to show him how much he means everything he's doing for me, how grateful I feel for the love he gives me, and how easy he makes me to love him.

“Let's go open the presents” I whisper, sitting on the bed and stretching my arms, feeling his hand running all over my back.

I smiled and looked at him, kissing him again and again before getting up. I put on my joggers and his hoodie and tied up my hair in a messy bun, waiting for him to get out of the bed. 

This felt good. Sleeping with him felt good, having breakfast together felt good. Somehow, being with him all the time felt good, and I don't want to complain about it.

We sat in front of the tree, looking at the bags. Max and Pietra left their gifts for us there, so there were three presents for each one.

“Open mine the last” he said, making me look at him and frown. “Come on! Trust me!”

I sigh and smile softly, leaving the bag with his name next to me and opening the other two with Max's and Pietra's names on it. Pietra gifted me a book nook to put on my shelves and a bag, Max gifted me a reading journal and a book I was looking after about legends and myths. 

“Am I that obvious?” I laughed looking at the presents.

“I think your collection of one specific book and your office are a clear example that you love books” he smiled.

“Harry hated that I spent money on buying books” I sighed. “He always said that I should buy something like a Kindle to carry it with me”

“You know the answer to what I think about him” he sighed. “He always said shit like that to everyone, saying that he doesn't spend much money, that he only buys what he thinks he needs. At this point I think he's a narcissist and an egoist, always talking about himself and how good he does things”

I smiled weakly and nodded. I didn't tell him that I saw him yesterday while doing groceries. And I think I won't tell him, yet 

“Open mine” he smiled excitedly, looking at me.

“What, you want me to say that it's the best gift?” I smirked looking at him, watching how he was looking at me with happiness in his eyes.

“Oh, I think I know it will be the best one” he joked. “And I have to admit that it's has its merit because I had the idea for it yesterday”

I look at him and shake my head, smiling while I open the bag. There was an envelope and something more wrapped with paper.

“Open the wrapped one” he said, resting his head on his hand. 

I frown and grab it, shaking it a little. It sounded exactly like the box of a videogame. I looked at him and rolled my eyes playfully when he wiggled his eyebrows, making me chuckle softly. I tears off the paper, laughing when I saw two blue boxes of a videogame for the PlayStation.

“What? What is this?” I frown looking at the two games. “Assassin's Creed Origins and Odyssey… Oh! Are those games about Greece and Egypt?”

“Correct” he nodded. “Open the Origins one”

I looked at him and smiled, watching that the box didn't have the security plastic. I bite my lip and open it, frowning when I didn't see the CD of the game itself but a few papers folded.

“What…?” I frown, unfolding the papers and gasping when I read what was on them. “No way. Lando! Are you crazy?!”

“Now open the Odyssey one” he chuckled, excited to see my reaction.

“You are insane” I mumbled, opening the other box and finding the same things I saw in the other one. “Lando…”

“I have a lot of free time” he said, grabbing the envelope and placing it in my hand. “And you will too, because I know you can work at distance, that you can translate things without going to the museum because that's what you did while we were on the snow trip”

“But Lando, this… God, this is too much” I said looking at the papers, smiling weakly when I read what was inside the envelope.

“I made you smile, that's the most important thing, Violet” he smiled holding my hand. 

“You are crazy” I smile softly, feeling tears in my eyes. “God, you are making me cry! This… this touched me a lot. No one did something like this for me”

“I hope you are crying of happiness” he said, pulling me to him, bringing me to his lap and wrapping his arms around me. “I will do anything to make you happy, Violet. I swear. The money is not important at all, I have enough of it, it's not a problem”

“But my gift is really insignificant compared to this” I sighed.

“I don't care” he whispered. “Besides, this is something I will enjoy too and you will help me enjoy it more”

I smile and kiss his cheek softly, peppering kisses over his jaw and cheek until I touch his lips. The last few days I discovered myself longing for his kisses, to have his lips pressed on my, to feel his lips peppering kisses over my cheek, forehead, shoulder or temple. Kissing him is like a new drug I never want to leave.

“You are amazing” I whisper against his lips.

“I'm just trying to be enough for you” he said. “To be what you deserve”

“You are enough” I whisper.

He smiled and broke the kiss, kissing the tip of my nose before grabbing the bag with the gift I made for him. He opened and smiled, looking at the two boxes inside of it.

“Oh! You noticed” he smiled when he saw the box with his favorite perfume. 

“You left the bottle in my room this morning” I said. “I saw that it barely had liquid so I just wanted to get you a new one. And I love the smell of this perfume. I love smelling my this scent in the pillow when you leave, or bury my nose in the neck of this hoodie and smell you”

“Thank you” he smiled, kissing my cheek softly. He opened the other box and smiled, looking at the necklace on it. “At this point I'll only have jewelry you gifted me”

“I would gladly do that” I chuckled. “Do you use rings?”

“I mean… Not all the time” he smiled. “I forget to put them back once I take them off”

“Mhm” I nodded, biting my lip. “Okay”

“Why?”

“Oh, just wondering” I smiled.

We stayed like this for a while, in each other's embrace sitting on the floor, surrounded by presents and broken papers. His hands placed on my back held me tight to him, his thumbs drawing abstract figures over my skin made me relax, his chin resting on the crook of my neck with his breathing in my skin, were the best thing I could feel. 

Until now, I never realized that with him I felt safe. Not only now that I'm giving up and letting my walls down for him and that I can finally see how things truly are since I knew how Harry was, but since the first time I saw him. He always looked at me with a soft gaze that now made me regret thinking all those things about him just because Harry said that he was bad news. He always took care of me from the distance, giving me reasons to smile only by sending me books or gifts. He always asked me how I was doing even if he knew that I didn't want to be around him. He was always there for me even if I never noticed.

“Let's make breakfast” I whisper, rubbing his back.

“Okay”

I got up, immediately missing his warmth, and walked to the kitchen to make us something for breakfast. He followed me like a lost puppy, helping me with everything and trying to steal moments to hug me while the pancakes were on the pan.

“You are so clingy” I whispered, placing my free hand on top of his.

“You never complained” he laughed, kissing my cheek.

“And I'll never do it”

Having him here felt good. Being this domestic with bim felt good. Being with him feels good.

We had breakfast in silence, reading things on our phones, showing memes to each other. And the moment I washed the dishes, my mind realized that the next place I will go is to his parents house. And somehow, I started to panic.

“Lando?” I called him. 

“Yeah?” he smiled walking towards me. “Hey, you okay?”

“I… I'm going to your parents house” I said looking at him. “Like… I mean, I know them. I met them during your races and that. But… this is a completely different situation! I'm going there for Christmas”

“Yeah, so what?” he frowned, confused. 

“You are bringing a girl!” I said. “A-and, well…”

“We're a soon to be couple, right?” he said, holding my hands. “It's completely fine, I promise. They knew about my feelings towards you, and somehow I told them that we have been working on it since the ski trip. It's okay, Violet. Really. Don't worry about it”

“But then I have to make a good impression, Lando” I said. “Like… What if they don't like me? What if they think I'm not enough?”

“Hey” he smiled, cupping my cheeks. “They love you, yeah? Everything will be okay. Take a deep breath”

I sigh and nod, looking at him. In my previous relationships, meeting the parents was hard. They all had something bad to say about me: I wasn't as skinny as they would have liked, his ex was better, I don't have enough status for him. I know Lando's parents, I met them a few times as well as his siblings, but somehow it didn't feel the same as now meeting them as someone that is more than a friend for Lando. What am I supposed to answer when they ask what we are? We're not a couple, I don't want to rush things. We are friends, yeah, but friends that sleep together in the same bed and act like a couple all the hours of the day. 

“It will be okay” he said, kissing my forehead. “And now, go get dressed”

I sighed and nodded, going to my bedroom followed by him and we got changed. I felt his eyes on my back while I took off my clothes, making me blush. He never saw me fully naked, only in a bikini, neither  that last day in the snow when we thought we were going to have sex. 

“I'll turn around if you feel uncomfortable” Lando said when he saw I stopped undressing myself. 

“Stop being perfect” I joked when his back was facing me, throwing him the shirt I was wearing, actually his shirt. “You can look”

“I don't want to make you uncomfortable, Violet” he said. 

I smiled and walked towards him, hugging him. I pressed my body into his back, my hands on his abdomen. I trust him, I really do. 

And I love him for that.

I felt him take a deep breath when he noticed that I wasn't wearing a bra and kissed his shoulder. He relaxed in my arms, letting out the breath he was holding. 

“I know I'm not perfect” I whispered. “That I don't go to the gym and have a healthy diet, that I'm not fit like a model. I know that I don't have a body worthy of a fashion show. But I am how I am”

“Don't change” he said. “Never change. I love you how you are. You are perfect, Violet. I don't care if you are not a model. In my eyes, you are a goddess, can't you see?”

I smile and unwrap my arms from his body, letting him turn around and not caring when his eyes look at my body, scanning every curve of my anatomy.

“You are perfect” he smiled, placing his hands on my waist and pulling me closer to him. 

I smile and wrap my arms around his neck, closing my eyes and letting him hold me. I know this is not the moment, this is not the time to have our first time, but the fact that I took a step forward to start this relationship, made me happy.

“You are my favorite person, Violet” he whispered.

“And you are mine” I whisper back. 

And somehow, that felt like saying that I love him.

Going to my parents house was a road trip of two hours and a half. Two hours of driving my car with Violet next to me, letting me hold her hand or place my hand on her thigh.

Taking her to my parents house was something I always wanted to do. They knew about my feelings for her since the moment I realized I had them, and now that she is finally with me, I just wanted to introduce her to them.

We are not a couple yet, and I don't know when I will ask her to be mine. But what we have right now is perfect, I don't need anything else.

The present I gave her was something I knew she would love. She only travels when she's invited to our trips, she always said that it's her first time in a place when we arrive there. And I wanted to change it. I want to show her the world, to make her see in real life all the art she studies, to let her see in real life that thing she only sees in museums or on the internet.

“What did you buy for your family?” she asked me.

“Correct, we bought” I smirked “For my parents and Savannah and Oliver, one of those SmartBox for a spa weekend. For my younger sister a set of jewelry and for my sister Flo a new helmet that will have the same design of the one I'll have next year”

“Oh! That's nice!” she smiled. “I bought Athena and Mila some things from the store of the museum like a book with drawings of the paintings and then some little toys for them”

“See? You do the job of auntie pretty well, hm?” I joked, making her doll her eyes and laugh softly. “I'm serious!”

“You are lucky I love Mila and Athena” she said, and somehow when she started talking I had a little heart attack.

I told her that I love her, I never stop telling her. And it's not that I want to hear it immediately, but the way she acts around me makes me think that she in fact has those type of feelings for me. 

But… is this fair? I planned everything, I wanted to confess my feelings during the trip, but I never expected it to turn out the way it did. I never expected it to work, to have her with me in my car or sleep with her in her bed, to kiss her whenever I wanted and hold her in my arms. Somehow, this felt like a dream. Too good to be true. But if this was a dream I don't want to wake up, never.

When I parked the car next to my brother's I looked at her, holding her hand.

“Are you okay?” I asked her.

“Yeah… I think so, yeah” she nodded. “Do they know that I'm going?”

“Oh yeah” I nodded. “My mom even made your favorite dish”

“Really? No way!” she gasped. 

I chuckled and nodded, opening the door and going to the back of her car to grab the bags of the presents. She helped me, holding the smaller bags with one hand.

“Let's go” I smiled, kissing her temple.

She was perfect. The moment we walked inside the house and she took a deep breath, I could feel how she immediately relaxed. My mother welcomed us, and the moment she saw Violet next to me, her smile grew wider.

“Oh, Violet! It's so nice to see you” she smiled, hugging her, winking at me.

“Merry Christmas” she smiled, hugging her back.

I walked towards them and smiled, watching how my mom unwrapped her arms from Violet and imme hugged me.

“You deserve this” she whispered. “My good boy”

I chuckled softly and kissed her cheek, hugging her tightly. My sisters and dad came towards us and we all went to the living room, where my brother was already with his wife and his kids.

“Oh, hey!” Oliver smiled, standing up with Athena in his arms.

“Baby Athena!” I heard Violet giggle, talking with the high pitched voice she always used when she was around my nieces. “Hello, baby girl!”

I smiled when Oliver looked at me surprised, letting Violet hold his younger daughter. I smile hugging him, patting his back and pulling away just to look at Violet holding Athena close to her.

God, is it too soon to talk about babies? It is, right?

My family welcomed her as she has been here since forever, and I was so grateful for that. My sisters included her in their conversations, even my mom let her help clean the dishes instead of making her stay sitting like she was a special guest. And watching her getting involved with them, filing and talking with them, made me fall even harder for her.

“I really think she's the one” I told Oliver, sitting on the couch, watching how Violet played with Mila and Athena. “Every fight and argument with Harry were worth it. I fought for her”

“And I'm so proud of you for never giving up on her” he smiled. “When are you going to ask her to be your girlfriend?”

“O-oh, well…” I smile, biting my lip, grabbing my phone and showing him my screen. “I kinda have it planned”

“Of course you do” he laughed softly, hitting my arm. 

I smiled looking again at Violet, getting up and walking towards her when she smiled at me, sitting on the floor next to her and playing with Mila.

She's the love of my life. I would do anything to make her happy.

We spent the rest of the day with his family, and it felt good, amazing. The way they welcomed me and never judged me was so heartwhelming.

Athena and Mila insisted on being around me. The older little girl held my hand all the time, leading me wherever she wanted to go with her, showing me all her toys and books her parents brought, making me sit on the floor with her between my legs.

I liked this. I liked being treated this way, like another one of the family.

Lando's sisters talked with me like we were friends. Savannah trusted me enough to hold her daughters and have her younger one sleeping in my arms. Lando's mom asked about my work and studies like a mother, getting interested in whatever I said. Even his dad and brother got in the conversation, asking about my job in the museum and when they can go to visit me.

Is this how it feels being in a healthy family? One that doesn’t judge you, that thinks they know what's better for you?

“Well, I think we should go back to London” Lando said, looking at his wrist watch, stretching his arms and wrapping his arm around my shoulders.

“Oh! Why don't you stay the night?” his mom said with a big smile, clapping her hands happily. “In that way you two can rest and go back there in the morning”

“Mom, she has to work tomorrow…” he smiled weakly looking at me.

“It's okay” I said smiling, placing my hand on Lando's knee. “We can stay”

“Are you sure?” he whispered looking at me.

“Mhm, yeah” I smiled, kissing the tip of his nose.

“Okay, then” his mom smiled. “Lando's room is clean and the bed is made too. You can sleep there”

I smile and nod, leaning on him and wrapping my arm around his torso. I relaxed in his arms, taking a deep breath and looking at the fire dancing in the fireplace. His fingers played with my hair softly, making me cuddle him and rest my head on his chest.

“Do you want to go to bed?” he whispered, kissing the top of my head and I nodded my head.

He got up and held my hand, pulling me to him. We hugged his parents and siblings good night and then walked towards his room.

“This is my childhood room” he laughed softly. “Obviously reformed”

I chuckled and looked around while he grabbed a shirt for me to sleep on it. He walked towards me, wrapping his arms around my abdomen, pulling me close to him.

“Today was perfect” I smiled, turning around to wrap my arms around his neck. “Thank you”

“I’m glad” he whispered, leaning closer to mez resting his forehead against mine. “Because this, Violet…This is what I want for you, for us. A healthy environment, a healthy family. People that support you and won't judge you”

I smiled and nodded, kissing him softly, holding him tightly against me. We got undressed slowly, taking off our clothes and leaving them on the floor, not wanting to pull away.

“I don't think it's a good idea doing this with my parents around” he whispered, taking a deep breath when we stood naked in the middle of his room, only wearing underwear.

“Then we won't do it” I whisper. “But we can just get in the bed, feel each other's body and kiss, right?”

“Oh yeah, please” he chuckled, jumping on the bed and opening his arms for me. “Come here”

“Silly” I chuckled, crawling towards him and kissing his lips, feeling his hands over my body and pulling me close to him.

violetsinclair

liked by landonorris, maxfewtrell, pietra.pilao, savnorris and 698 others

violetsinclair I think I like this little life🧡

view all comments

pietra.pilao that little life suits you very well

violetsinclair I think so, yeah🥰🧡

landonorris

liked by maxfewtrell, pietra.pilao, oscarpiastri and 258.735 others

landonorris This little life

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maxfewtrell I think Athena has a new favorite person

landonorris for once I don't mind

oscarpiastri when are you bringing her to the garage?👀

landonorris who? Athena? She's too young for that😌

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[multivcrse]

Hunger For All — c. snow | chapter one !

❝ chapter one : reap the young ! ❞

next chapter | previous chapter

pairing : academy! coriolanus snow x fem! academy! oc

warnings : rich capitol kids

summary : reaping day.

navigation | masterlist | series masterlist | wattpad

SITTING ON THE chair of her vanity, Cassandra brushed her hair, untangling the slightest strands of hair that got entangled. Her black dress shirt had small patches of white roses scattered all over it, draping perfectly over her torso.

Being a student at the Academy required uniforms for daily use, but for today's ceremony, the students are expected to be dressed formally in their own way. Of course, it was no problem for Cassandra. Whatever's inside of her wardrobe was something most girls wished for.

Turning her head from the mirror, Cassandra heard a knock from the other side of the door. Must be an avox. "I'll be there in a minute." Her pointer finger met the touch of her lips, smoothing out the natural shade of lipstick she applied on.

The whole family had been sitting on the dining chairs by the time she made it downstairs. The smell of warm bread pudding hit the air. Coriolanus' Favorite. Cassandra slightly shook her head at the thought. Why'd she have to remember?

The girl took a seat next to her younger brother who was in uniform unlike her. Alexandr was two grades lower than Cassandra, which is why he was in that hideous red skirt.

The maid brought up the pan of pudding, cutting a nice and warm slice, sliding it onto Cassandra's plate. The maid then took the glass water jug, pouring the clear liquid onto her glass.

Cassandra silently thanked the older woman who hasn't had her tongue cut off. "Excited for reaping day?” Her father, Theoden spoke up, looking up from his food, still holding the spoon and chewing on the pudding.

As if everyone hadn't known already. Cassandra ignored his statement, knowing exactly where this was going. She took a spoon and started to scrape off the corn syrup that was drizzled on top of the square slice of pudding.

Hell, that was a stupid question. Who would even be excited about watching kids get reaped from their homes to kill one another?

"Cassandra." Father spoke up once again, causing the girl to look up. "Yes?" She raised her eyebrows, making her spoon go through the edge of the pudding.

"What? The Plinth prize? There’s no need to worry, father i guarantee you that i will be the one who wins it." She spoke before eating the piece of pudding. She wasn’t sure if she was joking or not. "Good." Father chuckled. Truly, she wasn't too sure about winning, especially when she had Coriolanus on her tail.

As Cassandra arrived at the Academy building with her brother, they parted ways immediately. Alexandr went to his group of friends in uniform, whilst Cassandra walked up the stairs into the building.

It seems that the other students were waiting for her appearance. She was well aware that she was the prettiest in her grade. Everybody aspired to be her and she was glad. "There she is, Coriolanus' little birdie." Cassandra despised that nickname. Coriolanus wouldn't stop teasing her with it whenever they argued. It used to be sweet and adorable when they were little kids.

Cassandra stood between Festus and Felix, right across Arachne. "Ready to compete with Snow?" Festus chimed in. "Compete with Snow?" Cassandra ironically furrowed her eyebrows, repeating his statement.

"Oh, don't worry birdie. I won't go easy on you." The familiar quiet voice behind Cassandra caused her to roll her eyes. Coriolanus' mouth was just a few inches away from her ear as she could feel his breath. Ugh.

She turned around, glaring at him. A hand was placed on his chest, slightly shoving Coriolanus away from herself. "Finally. The star pupil." Arachne greeted Coriolanus in a not-so friendly way.

"That's a snazzy shirt, what are those buttons, tesserae?" The Crane girl leaned forward to take a closer look at Coriolanus' probably filthy dress shirt. "Huh. That's why they remind me of the maid's bathroom." Cassandra was trying her best to hold her laughter in as he spoke.

As if his family could even afford to hire a maid. "I'll be congratulating you today, Mr. Snow." Festus cleared his throat as Felix was eating with his bare hands. Cassandra swore she couldn't believe he was the president's son.

"Oh, please. I'll make sure you walk out empty handed, Coryo." Cassandra was practically mocking his dumb little nickname. He took it quite seriously as to who was calling him by that name. Well, she used call him that genuinely.

"That's funny, cause i could've sworn i heard you say you didn't care about the prize awhile back." Coriolanus spat back. Whatever. "Someone's been paying attention." Festus teases with a smug smile on his face.

It was true. The only logical thing to do was not care about the stupid prize. Her family was rich anyway, why would she need it? "Yeah, i don't." Cassandra scoffed, glaring at the group of classmates, seeing that Lysistrata had just approached the group.

She was a nice girl, to say the least. Everything about her was... neat. Cassandra could call her a friend although they interacted at least only 5 times in one semester.

"I just wanted to know if you, needed the prize." Cassandra spoke quiet enough for only Coriolanus to hear. She left him looking at her in slight fear and pure disgust.

She was on the verge of wanting the truth to be everywhere, out and about although, it was killing him. He needed to be careful. He even thought about making amends with her. All for the sake of his own self and family.

Cassandra walked towards the tables and took a glass of water. She walked over to the other side and smoothly swapped the glass of water with a glass of posca. Cassandra walked away, but only to run into her favorite professor.

"Cassandra! Come here." Satyria called out, looking away from the people she was speaking to. Cassandra smiled before approaching the older woman. Satyria was everyone's favorite. She was almost likely to be considered as a friend.

Standing next to Satyria, Cassandra looked up at the people that were speaking to Satyria just a few moments ago. She recognized them to be professors from the Capitol University. "This is the Cassandra i was talking about." The professors nodded and smiled at the girl.

"She's Theoden Sparrow's daughter actually." Satyria added. Cassandra's father a was a well known wealthy man who owned the coal minings at district twelve. Sometimes, he goes to district twelve to help his business run. "It's nice to meet you." Cassandra smiled as she shook the professors' hands.

"She's a top student alongside Crassus Snow's boy." Cassandra tried her best to hide her smile as Satyria mentioned. This was good. Contact with professors from the University was needed. "Good luck with the Plinth prize, Ms. Sparrow." One of the professors spoke up, motioning his glass of posca forward.

Cassandra nodded and took a sip of her water. "Thank you very much." A little while after, the commotion around her gave a signal that it was time for the reaping ceremony to begin.

She made her way towards the seats and saw that the last ones available was next to Clemensia. And Coriolanus. Cassandra sighed before taking off the book bag off of her shoulder.

"Good luck." Clemensia whispered as the two sat down. Coriolanus stayed quiet, trying his best to avoid Cassandra's presence.

The hall went quiet as Dr. Gaul entered the place. She was nothing but a terrifying woman. Cassandra went to her laboratory once, and it was nothing anyone wanted to see. Full of mutated creatures and even humans (avoxes).

Dr. Gaul introduced herself before letting Dean Casca Highbottom take the lead. No one liked that man. He was the creator of the Hunger Games itself after all. The man was attached to morphling.

"There's no prize today. Not anymore." Cassandra overheard Sejanus speak to Coriolanus and she wished she hadn't. What did that even mean? Will 10 years of trying to be the best student mean nothing?

Cassandra's breath hitched as she tried not to turn to Sejanus and react. Dean Highbottom's annoying voice kept going on and on until his words made Cassandra pay attention again.

"The Plinth Prize will no longer be determined by who has the best grades, but by who is the best mentor in the Hunger Games."

It was no need to act surprised. Of course he'd pull some shit like this. She wasn't sure on how she was going to win this. What if she was chosen to mentor a tribute from a poor district or something?

"As the reaping progresses live, i will allocate each District tribute a Capitol mentor." Great. Another competition against Snow. She could only hope for the best. "Also, two lucky students will partner up and mentor one tribute. Together." That was unfair! Some students, including Arachne protested.

But then again, she'd rather work alone than to have a tribute from a poor and weak district. The dean sat himself down, looking up at the television, ready to announce which district each mentors get. "Let the reaping ceremony begin." The dean mutters, pulling out some cards that contained names from his pocket.

"District one, boy, Livia Cardew." The girl couldn't contain her excitement. Cassandra didn’t like her as much. That girl acts like she hates Coriolanus Snow as much as Cassandra does. Cassandra was the only one who could ever hate his guts, why'd she have to intervene?

Well, actually that doesn’t matter at all.

As the dean continued to read out the names, Cassandra felt the desperation rush in. She could only hope for a decent tribute. She did not need a tribute who could barely survive the districts, let alone the Hunger Games.

Cassandra gulped as she didn't get a tribute from neither district one or two like she had hoped for. What was this? There was no way her father didn't know about the changes. She thought he'd at least bribe Highbottom so she could get someone from a higher district.

The boy from district two was assigned to Sejanus. This was no doubt, Strabo Plinth's request. Cassandra couldn't help but think her father did the same thing and decided to give her a tribute from twelve. Please, no. Anything but that, anything!

Two other districts passed. Cassandra's name hasn't been called out yet. The only thing she was relieved about was that Coriolanus hasn't been assigned a tribute yet either. She hoped he'd get the tribute from twelve and not her.

The last hope with a boy from eleven went to Clemensia. No students have been paired up together so far. The only ones left were Cassandra, Coriolanus, Felix and Lysistrata.

Cassandra would rather partner up with the president's not-so bright son than to have Coriolanus as a partner. At least Lysistrata.

Though, it passed. Felix's tribute was a girl from eleven and finally, Lysistrata's tribute was a boy from twelve. Cassandra turned to look at Coriolanus as she felt the sense of fury rush into her mind.

"You'll be happy about this one, Ms. Crane." The dean stood up, walking closer to the televisions. Coriolanus shared a glance with Cassandra. That's it. If Cassandra could, she would storm out of the hall right this second. "District Twelve girl ... Ah, she belongs to the mentors who are chosen to partner up. Coriolanus Snow… and Cassandra Sparrow."

© multivcrse, 2024

GUYS HI SO IM LIKE NEW TO TS SOO PLS FOLLLOWWWW AND DONT BE SHY TO TALK TO MEEEE !!! my requests r very much open btw also ty very much for the notes on my last post<33

[xesiarah]

“˚₊‧ UNLUCKY ENCOUNTER ‧₊˚ ”

Yan!Loser oc x Reader

Synopsis — some call it a coincidence, some say it's fate, but I say it's absolute utter fucking, bullshit.

—

—

"I'm sorry."

The other line hangs up, the irrational telephone beep ringing against your ear as you genuinely start feeling the symptoms of hysteria bubbling up your chest and clamming up your breathing. At this point you definitely wouldn't say no to a fucking lobotomy.

This week has been feeling like the universe is actively trying to kill you off, like as if already getting coffee spilled on you wasn't bad enough; You, in this modern age and time having to use the telephone because your phone was snatched, along with your favorite handbag, containing the newly expensive perfume you brought still half full, and then just now your partner of 2 years breaks up with you after you asked them for help because you tripped on a rock, resulting on a sprained ankle and having to distressingly limp all the way to the phone booth.

Coincidence? Yeah, I think not. Just before this hell week was 3 days after your best friend ditched you for her new boyfriend, 4 days after you fucked up an important exam, and A WEEK after you befriended that jackass freak at school. Losing a few people here and there was to be expected but, c'mon! Isn't this just a new form of torture? You're sure that he was the one that caused all this, who else is to blame!? Maybe the rumor that said he must have all that hair to hide the dent he got when he was dropped as a baby was true, I mean. He probably performed some dark sorcery on you for whatever reason.. or maybe he's a sick masochist that fucks over people who don't treat him like an accused witch during the Salem Witch Trials. — Seriously, it was as if the universe's will to make that mfs life a living hell has rubbed off on you. But you know what, yeah.. It's fine, you can live with this.

Or not. Your alarm blaring for you to awaken gladly disturbs your nightmarish slumber, this is the 3rd time. The THIRD TIME! You've dreamt about him. — of that freak that brought you to your misery, who knows, what if dreaming about him more then once was some sort of bad omen? The 3rd time being on the first day of the week nonetheless. Of course the birds are extra chirper, you thought that maybe they're basking on your torment, if they were, you hope stray bullets manages to shoot all of them dead because we aren't having that kind of bullshit today. — You have finally devised a plan to avoid Satan's reincarnate for the rest of the school year as if they were carrying a covid variant. Finally getting that horrendous goblin off your back would feel like it's the second coming of Christ, and you're not about to let any twinks get in the way of living your life free from any agony inducing minger either.

You manage to find the will to exist. Entering the gates of your school muttering prayers to God, and whatever other deity that’s listening, to please not let you set sights of his probably-smells-like-cheese, greasy ass hair, the overgrown bangs covering ⅔ of his hazel eyes that always seemed to bother you, he even has those weird Incel glasses on.. maybe that one rumor that said he had some sort of eye fungus just makes this all more oddly debatable. You wander through the empty hallways, not seeing a single student kinda unsettles you. — makes sense though, It's pretty early, and you've never seen him around this time so, the coast is clear, for now, or so you thought. — You were approaching the rows of vending machines all pushed up against the back of the building when you caught a glimpse of a silhouette you're all too familiar with, he seems to be sketching something, not that you totally cared for whatever it was. You shrug, but when you were about to turn to leave he gets up and walks towards the boys bathroom, leaving his precious notebook unattended, out in the open, where anyone could take a peak... Just a little peak, alright? You tiptoed, walking towards it in longer strides to minimize your footsteps, upon getting closer, you notice the front page already wide open, as if he purposely left it like that, — that should've been the first red flag. Because inspecting it a little further made your jaw slack, the thing he was sketching.. was you. "What the fuck, I look amazing." You mutter, it's a little creepy but you're flattered with the way he straight up beautified you, admiring it for a little longer then you should've had was a mistake though, because just when you took your eyes off of the notebook, you see him literally lurking and hiding behind the bathroom's entrance. He's wide-eyed, and a huge creepy grin plastered on his face. — Genuinely scaring the flattery out of you and making you bolt straight to the opposite direction on instinct, the way he looked at you literally triggered your flight or fight. The sound of your fast footsteps filled the hallways, your heart going pitter-patter, quite literally about to burst out your chest. Fuck. Just your luck. Guess this won't be an easy day to get through.

Morning lectures are finally over. Which means you can finally celebrate the fact that you pushed through and made it to lunchtime! It was still agonizing nonetheless, waiting around corners to let him pass kind of felt like you're stalking him, can't say that you didn't get any weird looks either. The worse part was definitely him searching and skimming through the halls, asking everyone for your whereabouts, half of them made themselves look busy so he wouldn't approach them, and the other half straight up ran the opposite direction as if he threatened to bite their toes or something. Weirdly enough, most of them ended up slipping on wet floor, which just further gives in to your suspicion of him practicing dark sorcery. Anyways, you're proud of the little progress you made, and that's all that matters for now.

—

—

Lucian sits alone, his table is tucked away in the very corners of the cafeteria, no one even daring to glance at his direction, he used to typically eat in the bathrooms but nobody wants him in their presence to the point that they all stand up and leave when he approaches a table. — there's just this weird air surrounding the dude that automatically repels people away, and no it's not body oder dammit! He just gets greasy fast, and probably for threatening to unalive a teacher but that isn't important! The love of his life is avoiding him! He chews on his fingernails as he ponders, possible reasons fill his head, and they aren't very good ones. — Did someone make you do this? Is there someone else...? That surely can't be. That's just cheating isn't it? You love him after all! He saw the glint in your eyes when you looked at the portrait he drew of you. He could even show you his shrine! Made just for you, containing such precious things you lost! — His excessive chewing of his fingernails grow desperate to the point of drawing blood, he grimaces at the sight of crimson streaks, wiping it on the sleeves of his hoodie. — it just can't be. Why would you do him wrongly like this? You smiled at him, you laughed with him instead of AT him, you sat together.. So why!? Are you gonna leave him like his mother did..? Was that all a joke to you..? He just couldn't accept this, you aren't that kind of person! You know what, he finally snaps. he just has to hear an answer from you. — "He's right behind me, isn't he?" The person right Infront of you nods, and immediately scurries away. At this point you're frozen in place, what the fuck do you do? Just make a run for it? "Can we please talk..?" He speaks behind you, his hand is on your shoulder. You swallow, the remaining bits of your conscience crumbling as you fucking make a run for it, aggressive footsteps follow behind and you realize HE'S CHASING AFTER YOU. You have never let out such a gut wrenching scream than what you just did in this exact moment. — You hide behind a wall, thinking you've lost him. Not until a hand grabs onto your arm.

—

—

He caught you. He has you pinned against the wall, not in a shoujo cutsy romantic way, he looks as if he's a starved vampire about to chomp on your neck, and not in a good way. Just no fucking way this scrawny mf outran you. Another 'unfortunately' for you too, the Gods did not answer your prayers. You're trapped in between the arms of the man you swore to avoid like the plague for the rest of the school year, this was definitely not on your 2024 bingo list. You didn't even last till' the end of the day and that lowkey hurts your pride. — But holy smokes, they say that you experience something new everyday, and this is the first time you've seen him up close, messy bedroom hair, teary eyes that looked like he hasn't slept since the first star wars movie came out. Wowza. If he actually made an effort, or if he didn't have such unsettling vibes, you can't lie, he'd be a revelation hottie. — ... Shit. Not the time to be thinking about his potential glow up. — Poor guy, watching him trying to maintain eye contact but just failing horribly is kinda cute.

......

......

......

The fuck? Your face scrunches up just after you snap back out of, whatever that was. Seriously.. say WHAT now? That was a demon possession right there, you need to stop acting as if his existence didn't just cause your downfall unprovoked. "You're avoiding me.." His voice disrupts the silent war you were having with yourself. It sounded meek, he genuinely looked like a shivering wet dog, with those.. tears boiling up his eyes, and.. quivering lips. Fuck. What if you'd just slide down his arms and escape? Hell no, if someone walked in they'd think you were giving him a blowjob and that's honestly worse then whatever's going on right now. "A-Answer me!" He yells(?) hesitantly, the dude genuinely looks like he's about to burst into tears any minute, you're surprised how he somehow grew the balls to yell at you though. "Okay, dude I'm sorry..?" — It's sad how he goes ballistic over a 'friendship' that lasted a week, but he did show you the list of student names he wanted to glock, and you listened to some of his nerdy ramblings, so you guess he did cherish your short time together even if you gave him absolutely zero fucks. — he goes completely quiet for a minute before he finally bursts out crying, fat tears are running through his acne filled face as he drops to the ground. "I really just wanted a someone-" He says in-between hiccups, he's crying as if you killed his mom or something. You decided to just wait it out until he grew tired but his wails started growing louder till' you were forced to crouch down and comfort him. "H-hey, uhm.." Fuck. Screw it. You know what, Who cares if your life starts crashing down, it already was unsalvageable from the very beginning anyway. Everyone needs a friend and you're too nice for this. You finally give in, breathing in a sigh of defeat. "How can I fix this?" His cries shimmer down and you swear to fucking God you think you just saw him flash a smirk. This bitch looks like he's bout to spit out the most outta pocket bullshit. — and he indeed did not disappoint. The two unexpected words coming out of his mouth just further inspires you to jump off a bridge. "d-date.. me."

......

......

......

Maybe hiring a hitman on yourself wouldn't be so bad.