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metropolitanmutantofark · 1 year

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The Messenger, Eclipse

Part 2, Chapter 1 - The Freeway Chapter 2

0004154 A.D. - Earth (Solar System, Milky Way Galaxy) New England, Empire of North America Interstate 407 - Second Layer - Eastbound Temporal Relocator and Closed Interior Environment (TRACIE) November 24th - 12:00 Noon

My name is Wendy Wendel - pronounced Wendy Vhendel - and this is the second part of my log.

It only makes sense to me that we should pick up where we left off. Eclipse and I had just entered Tracie again, and in minutes, he'd set us on-course for a point in the future. The lights inside Tracie were a lot brighter now - beneath the purple and pink primary lights, we were now showered in a brighter orange backing light, seeming to coincide with the fact that Eclipse had turned the heater on as soon as we'd entered. "Wendy, if you'd be so kind," he asked, standing on the ceiling and pulling at some knobs and levers about the console. As usual, the alien's messy, wispy black hair was surrounding his pale face, parted down the center and spilling out onto the shoulders of his minty-green windbreaker. I could just barely see the 'VISIT MONTANA' shirt through either side of the zipper - evidently, that shirt was comfortable enough not to change out of. "There's a panel, about... six steps to your right, on the wall over there. Go walk over and open it up, we're getting Tracie to talk again."

As he instructed, I walked on the wall towards the panel he told me about. "This one?" I asked. "What am I looking for?" I pried open the polygonal cover, and gasped when I saw what was inside. My heart started to beat a little bit faster in anxiety, but I knew there had to be some rational explanation.

"Oh, right, I should probably tell you, it might look like I stuffed a corpse in there," he recalled.

"Really?" I asked, glaring up at him in case he hadn't picked up on the sarcasm. As an alien, I couldn't expect him to know everything about human interaction. "I hadn't noticed that!"

"Just- pull the girl out of the hole and set her up on the railing, OK?"

Just as he said, inside was what looked like a girl - she had white hair and a small face, her eyes sealed shut despite being opened up again. She wore a simple outfit - resembling a uniform you might see on Star Trek or something similar.

"And this is Tracie?" I asked.

"It's about to be," Eclipse answered. Holding onto a pair of cables, he jumped down from the ceiling towards the wall I was on, reaching out with the exposed ends once he'd landed. "Well, come on, bring her over."

On his request, that was what I did. Eclipse laid her down over the railing and pulled aside the back of her uniform - sticking the ends of the cables into matching slots that were embedded onto her back.

"Halley!" exclaimed the girl, promptly falling off of the railing, onto the floor where I was standing instead of up on the catwalk with Eclipse.

"Halley?" I asked. "Is that her name, or something?"

Eclipse shook his head. He didn't speak for a moment, but after collecting his thoughts, he stammered out a response. "Probably just a, maybe just a junk data square," he explained. "Something like that, definitely not her name."

"Right. Well, if it's not Halley, who is it?"

"Tracy," the girl answered. Once she'd pulled herself up from the floor and gripped the railing to steady herself, she climbed back up onto the catwalk.

"Tracy," Eclipse repeated. "She's the Time-Traveler's Roaming Android Computer... Y'all," he explained.

"Y'all?" Tracy and I asked.

"It was Y'all or Yinz, and I vowed never to use Yinz again, a long time ago."

"That still doesn't sound like a very professional acronym," I responded. "Is that really what it stands for?"

"Does it have to be? My ship, my rules. Besides, she agreed to it when I first powered her up, didn't she?"

"I'm afraid I can't remember that far back, there's-" Tracy began, but Eclipse cut her off near-instantly.

"Then it's settled, then. Either way - 4154 A.D., year of the freeway," he began. "This is where I usually bring people to get their shots. Well - it was where I brought Everett to get his shots. Just the one person, and it's not like he can join us now. Anyway, Tracy's going to manage the console and make idle chat, I'll be up in the front seat trying to navigate the highways. If anything happens, stay in the bubble. It's safer here than anywhere else, and it's already hidden inside a camper van facade. If we break down or overheat or anything, don't go out. You'll get lost in seconds."

"It can't be that hard," I replied. "We're on the highway, right? What's wrong with that?"

Tracy's hands braced on either side of her head. "In the year 4100, the Emperor of North America gives extreme executive power to the Axel Corporation for the construction of more efficient transit systems. By 4102, the highways are complete, but the Emperor's passing leaves Axel Corp. with unlimited financial power for the construction of more highways, as no previous rules can be overwritten by a different ruler," she recounted. "As a result, existing highways are upgraded with automatic conveyors and trash collection hardware."

"Essentially, a giant, concrete shell encasing the Earth in traffic, shuffling anything that isn't a car off to the side for sorting." Eclipse added. "Three suspended levels of interstate, and a base road beneath. We can't travel there because it's usually flooded with foot traffic, but we can coast along the bottom track until we find the right exit," he explained.

"Wh- So it's like a traffic lasagna?" I asked. "People really put that much faith in their public leaders in 4154?"

"Kinda-sorta," Eclipse answered - about the lasagna question, not the other question. "Really, it depends how thick you want your lasagna to be. And also, it's kind of hard to pin down what the cheese would be in this analogy, cause-"

"Well how do you navigate it? And what about the air?"

Tracy's hands braced together, then she spread them apart until a thin, blue hologram was projected between them. "Signs are placed at regular intervals as mile markers, interstate exits, emergency lanes, and freight truck weight checks. Earth's atmosphere has thickened by 14%."

"Thickened - oh, that sounds lovely," I answered back. "Can we pick another time to go to?" I asked. "If it were up to me, I'd rather not have to breathe through layers upon layers of CO2. I really don't understand why you'd want to bring anyone here."

As if on cue, Eclipse pulled up the zipper to his jacket and let a thick black muffler scarf drape over his face. "Cheap healthcare plan," he answered. "If you're gonna travel with me, you need your shots to combat space-illnesses. I would've gone for a decade and country with free healthcare, but they don't have the right antibodies for my species anywhere I've checked. Anyway, I've set up, like, forty appointments in this time slot alone. We'll probably bump into ourselves if we wait around too long, so we'd best make it quick or we'll cause an irreparable gash in the timestream."

"Or, worse, I'll suffocate since I'm not used to the outside air," I responded, holding onto the catwalk railing a little tighter. "Got another one of those mufflers?"

Tracy raised a hand and waited for both of us to acknowledge her, then she jumped in. "The chances of suffocation should significantly decrease once you've had your shots," she explained. "At this point in Earth's future, respiratory problems caused by outside forces have been effectively nullified through the Rinlen vaccine. If you'd like, I could escort you into the clinic once we've arrived, to ensure you do not collapse from oxygen deprivation."

"Yeah, yeah, but... still," I answered, gripping my arms. "It's... you know," I grumbled.

Eclipse's eyes narrowed in confusion, and he turned his head away. "Wendy, you're not scared of shots, are you?" he asked.

"No," I firmly answered, gripping the railing once again and standing a little taller. "I'm not afraid of shots, they just..."

Tracy glanced between Eclipse and I.

"Tracy," Eclipse called. "Execute program one. Scan Wendy here for... trypanophobia, if you will. She probably has, I don't know, twice the level of anyone's usual fear of shots."

Tracy's eyes glowed, and a bright pink laser grid scanned my body from head to toe. After a single blink from Tracy, it shut off. "Scanning complete. Scan indicates levels of 'trypanophobia, if you will,' 200% above average."

"See? Factually proven."

"Alright, fine, I'm scared of needles," I growled, frowning towards the two of them. "What's program one, anyway? Medical scan?"

A little ping came from Tracy as she was asked a direct question about her systems. "Program one is defined under a single parameter," she explained. "Prove the operator correct, and ignore deception inhibitors."

"You little cheat!" both Eclipse and I spat out, Eclipse speaking to Tracy, and I to Eclipse.

"Whose side are you on, anyway?" Eclipse added.

"The operator's," Tracy answered. "In the operator's own words, rule four - never lie."

"Rule five," Eclipse added. "Lie to people you don't trust!"

"Ms. Wendy Wendel is a trusted passenger aboard this ship," Tracy replied. "She is not to be lied to."

Eclipse crossed his arms and squeezed his fists a little tighter, shaking his head. "Whatever. Tracy, stay here and check the files. It's been a while since you woke up, I've probably entered a couple logs. Wendy, up to the front."

I followed Eclipse through corridor after corridor, room after room, until eventually, we came to the front of the camper van shell. I was surprised that there was even an interior - but behind me, I could see the mini-dinette and chairs of a regular camper, along with a tiny shower stall, a bunk, and a really old CRT TV. Looking out through the windows, it was exactly as Eclipse had described - highway as far as the eye could see, suspended high over the ground, darkness engulfing the earth below. Cars zoomed about - pointed and jagged designs, primarily, with a few vintage-looking vehicles and some that resembled more modern ones. It was only noon, yet the sky was a golden yellow color, a thin ring of brown across the horizon I could see. Despite how new it felt, my eyes were trained on the cars.

"How come some of the cars look the same?" I asked. "They look like the ones from 2023. If it's the future, what's up with that?"

"Oh, mostly nostalgia," Eclipse replied. "Humans are one of the only species I know of that can have nostalgia for something they've never experienced," he remarked. "Right, no, right - you're probably wondering about how far humans have come, huh? I'll tell you the short answer, not very far. At least, not in this year. You did, as a species, accomplish a lot - but this whole decade's sort of a backslide," he explained. "Don't worry. It gets better over time. Was better before this, but - well, bears and bulls, you know how it goes."

I looked out at the sky, crossing my arms as we both took seats at the front of the camper. "Well, when you said you could travel in time, I didn't actually believe it," I answered. "I knew aliens could exist, but this is something else."

"Wendy," he started, buckling up and grabbing the wheel - turning the key as if to signal to Tracie that he was ready to take over driving. "I'm very good at lying, but I told you, not to people I trust."

"So you're only good at lying to people you don't trust? Is that why you set up the rules?" I asked.

"Yes, that's exactly why," he answered, smiling and rolling his eyes.

Future or not, traffic was traffic. It took us a good twenty minutes on the road before we reached the exit he was looking for. The exit ramp was a corkscrew spiral - as we were going down, I could see another track beside us, spiraling upwards to get onto the layer above.

"Look out for turn-off 809," he called, twisting the wheel back into position. "Should say OB-40 beneath it."

"Any idea how far it'll be?" I asked. My eyes remained on the streets above us, looking at the supports keeping each road up in the air. "Is it on the left or the right?"

"To the right," he answered. "Just tell me the mile-marker."

"We're on 804 right now," I answered. "But while we're here, why did you have Tracy in storage like that?"

"Well, Tracie was off the whole time I was in the 2020s," he answered. "The computer wouldn't have done anything, so I just turned her off for a little while, at least for as long as she couldn't speak. It gets a little hard to watch when someone you know just suddenly goes lifeless."

His explanation fit, as usual, but it didn't sound as thorough as it could have been. He seemed like the type who reveled in his explanations - at least, he did so far - so it was a little off how quickly he waved it away. "Right, well. What sort of clinic are we going to?"

"Family-owned type. The smaller the place, the easier it is to spot malpractice."

"Here I thought we would've found out all there is to know about the body by 2500."

Eclipse shook his head. "Nope. It's actually astonishing how far you guys manage to go without figuring out your biology." After glancing towards me, he held his breath and averted his eyes, maybe sensing a slap incoming. "Right, no, right - impressive technological advancements, though."

"Doing better," I remarked. "Maybe lead with the compliments next time."

It took a while, but eventually, we reached the bottom layer - apparently, it was the closest we could go to the Earth's surface. The ground was a darker gray color, and despite how well-paved the road was up above, the ground wasn't so clean. It was as if I'd stepped into medieval times, with the path before us full of pedestrians. Progress slowed to a crawl as Eclipse tried to see something through the crowd. "Keep your eyes open," he instructed. "We don't want hitchhikers, and we're looking for a parking spot."

Per his instruction, I looked out into the crowd of people. Most were soot-covered, even the more fashionable ones. On closer inspection, the ones closest to us weren't covered in soot - instead, it looked like the condensed smoke from the exhaust of the millions of cars above. I was suddenly quite self-conscious about how I was dressed.

"We're walking?" I asked. "Through all this?"

"Why, can't walk?"

#original writing #science fiction #the messenger eclipse #part 2 #chapter 1

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sukirichi · 3 years

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sweet lies [03.final]

His lies were way too sweet – and you were too addicted to make him stop.

cw. toxic! megumi, SEXY TOXIC MEGUMI 🥵, toxic college settings, oral (f receiving), multiple orgasm, orgasm denial, explicit smut, car sex, biting, scratching, sukuna is a sex god, MEGUMI WITH A LIP RING, slight angst

note. FINALLY FINISHED THIS SERIES AAAAHHH I HOPE YOU GUYS LIKED THIS I HAD A LOT OF FUN WITH THIS SERIES TYSM FOR EVERYTHING! lotsa lub lub for each and everyone of you! anyways let me just say...sweet lies sukuna can politely rail me.

series masterlist | 01 | 02 | 03

It’s…a different story when you have to move back and forth between your newly made acquaintance slash fuck buddy, Sukuna, to your actual fuck buddy and crush, Megumi.

Sukuna’s polite enough to not meddle into your business as he’s promised, which you’re extremely thankful for, but you should’ve known the bubble of happiness would pop the moment you stepped out of your apartment. You’ve left your phone unattended and on silent, earbuds always placed inside to ignore Megumi’s calls.

It’s funny, actually, that he’s never replied much to you before other than occasional dick pic and ‘you awake baby?’ but ever since you’ve been…pre-occupied, suddenly you’re on top of his contacts.

You grumble at the vibration of your phone, Megumi’s name flashing on the screen. Back then, you would’ve soared and jumped to pick up the call, voice sultry and toes pointed at the ceiling as you try to keep in your giggles. Now, you’re dreading it, glaring at his annoyingly handsome contact icon that used to make your heart skip a beat. You’re studying in the library and have been doing a terrific job at avoiding him so far, and today won’t be any different.

With a sigh, you completely flip your phone upside down and turn back to your book. You’re on the second line of the paragraph when you feel large, warm hands caress the back of your neck, tilting you upwards to meet his curious – and certainly annoyed – blue eyes.

“Babe,” Megumi drawls out, minty breath fanning your cheeks.

He looks absolutely stunning today, plain and casual yet so handsome in just a black hoodie and sweatpants, his dark hair slicked back to reveal his forehead. For a guy who sure pounded into your skill he had no interest in you that went beyond sexual, he sure did know you well enough, the slight tugging of his lips a sign he could easily read through you. It makes you huff away from him, scooting – trying is the keyword – away from his touch. Megumi’s persistence leads him into you placing you right above his lap and cages you between his arms, chin on your shoulder and his breath floating over your ear.

You can’t help but squirm in embarrassment. Half of the students in the campus library have turned to look at you, and Megumi merely smiles at the attention, audacious enough to kiss the shell of your ear.

Fuck him, fuck him, fuck him! In reality, you really do want to fuck him.

“Why have you been ghosting me?”

“I wasn’t ghosting you, Megumi, it’s called being busy. You ever tried doing homework?”

“You’re so mean to me today,” he pouts, but that pout soon brightens into a smile when you scowl at him. Megumi, albeit never really paying attention to you, your facial expressions have registered as second nature to him now. It doesn’t take much before you soften under his hold, still as mushy as ever, and the nasty fucker basks in it proudly. “There’s a party tonight at Okkotsu’s house, said his parents were away in Greece or some rich family shit. Wanna come and get wasted with me?”

“I don’t know, Megs, I have an essay to finish…”

“Come on, it’s just one night. It won’t hurt,” he shrugs and sways you to side to side, causing your heart to sway side to side in giddiness. It’s this – moments like this – that really fools you into believing Megumi likes you. And that sweet lie only turns sweeter from his words that drip like honey, “Plus, I’ve missed you. Can’t think straight when we’ve been apart for too long, baby.”

You pretend to think about it.

That slight falter in a split second brings about a waver in Megumi’s confident you didn’t think would be possible. Not that you can blame him; you never did have to think about it whenever he invites you to fuck around with him. In fact, you say yes a lot faster than he can ask you something, but something’s been changing you lately – or rather someone.

In the end though, you’ll circle up right where you belong.

Relishing in the rarity of having Megumi coddle you with kisses and affection, his perfume still as boyish and vanilla that deluded you into his faux aura of a sweet boy, you melt one more time. Hopefully, it would transition into a one last time before Megumi’s completely wrapped you around his finger.

“Fine. I’m leaving if it’s too noisy though.”

“Awesome,” Megumi chirps, pulling you in for a long, solid kiss. It takes you back by surprise that you end up wide-eyed above him, stiff hands on his shoulders as you feel him smile through the kiss. Then, just as you’re about to kiss him back with the same passion, Megumi separates himself from you and squeezes your ass. “Promise we’ll have fun, babe. I’ll even bring extra condoms.”

You’re not surprised he left afterwards.

But are you hurt? Most definitely so.

Fuck Fushiguro Megumi.

You were going to leave him, block him, ignore him, avoid him, and carve him out of your heart for good. It’s what you deserve – to be freed from such a toxic guy like him. His pretty face shouldn’t be an excuse for you stick around any longer. That party…well, it would be your last one, you’re never going back!

Still, it’s not that easy to let go. Years of following him around with puppy eyes and spreading your legs open for him like it’s the most natural thing to do isn’t just going to disappear in a day.

It’s for closure, you lie to yourself. That’s all it is – you just need closure. So for one last time, you’ll fuck around with Megumi, then you’d leave him. For good this time.

And yet – your mind still races back to him. His throaty, boyish laughter and the stupid way his eyes crinkle into half moons, his large hands slapping his knees when you tell him a really silly joke. Okay, he didn’t really laugh that much because he’s already passed out in the times you crack jokes after sex, but the few times he did, though? It’s magical, beautiful, phenomenal.

He’s so awful yet so irresistibly charming it’s a huge tug of war between your rational mind and foolish heart.

You couldn’t focus anymore in the library. If you wanted to pass your exams, you need to be somewhere that won’t remind you of him, in a place where a stronger aroma would conceal his lingering scent. The best option was to hang around in a local café closer to your apartment than on campus, and you’ve completely ditched your usual get up to just opting for lookinglike a complete shut in – bags under eyes, heart torn over a stupid boy, the usual Iced Vanilla Latte with the condensation sticking to the wooden table and soft lofi music playing in the background – it’s just the perfect atmosphere for you to wallow in self-pity.

And wallow in self-pity you did, your cheeks squished against the pale furniture while you sighed for what seems like the hundredth time that day. At the back of your head, Megumi is still giving you one of those slow, long kisses reserved for only when he’s half-sleepy, your heart doing insane back flips as you reminisced whatever moments you once had.

You’re so lost in your own train of thought you fail to hear the scraping of a chair, followed by a heavy body plopping across you. “Well, this is kind of gloomy…”

At the sound of that awfully familiar, deep voice, you sit up straight in a frenzy. Sukuna smirks at your reaction as he loudly sips from his matcha latte – which you would’ve never thought he likes – and sits back at his chair, legs crossed against one another. Unlike Megumi, he doesn’t seem to pose any other malicious intent, so you bury your head in your arms, wishing for the ground to just open up and eat you already.

“I’m sleep deprived and haven’t eaten anything except Red Bull and coffee,” you try to explain, “I look horrible.”

“Don’t say that. You’re gorgeous all the time.”

From under your arms, you scowl at nowhere in particular, ignoring the heat rushing from the back of your neck. Sukuna didn’t seem to be flirting with you, and one peek at him swirling his straw inside his cup proves your theories.

However, the offhanded compliment falls so naturally from his lips it takes you a back, and not in a good way. Defensively, you cross your arms against your chest. You knock your toes against Sukuna’s knees under the knees to get his attention, the taller man peering at you under his lashes, tongue innocently swirling around his straw.

I fucking hate men! – is what you want to say, but something different comes out. “Why are you even here? Aren’t you asleep in the morning because of work?”

“It’s my day off,” he sets his cup down, placing his chin on both of his palms. Sukuna’s gaze travels from your face down to the abandoned papers before you, a scowl immediately making its way to his face. “Got too bored to cook so I came here for a light snack. As for you…ew, are you doing essays? I hated that shit in college.”

“Yeah, I hate it too,” you numbly agree, “Can barely function right now.”

Sukuna’s eyes lit up the moment you nearly fall on the table again, his palm quick to caress your cheek. If he can feel the intense heat of your skin from the sudden gesture, he makes no comment about it. Instead, Sukuna hauls you from your seat, nodding to your bag and papers before he rushes you out the door.

When Sukuna said he could make you feel better, the last thing you thought of was going to the nearby park. Now, you find yourself sitting comfortably with him, aggressively licking on the vanilla ice cream he’d gotten you from an ice cream man that passed by. It’s a great way to kill the time – or just to enjoy the day despite the rough start – because the sunlight feels warm on your skin, the trees above you shading you from extra shade.

Next to you, Sukuna is surveying his ice cream with the least interest, his brows furrowed as he notes, “Your crush is toxic. I suggest you cut ties with him and get it all over with.”

In part of making you feel better, Sukuna’s subtly given you clues you could tell him whatever’s going on in your mind. It makes you wonder if maybe you’ve been that obvious that even Sukuna could read you, but you’re thankful that he understood, because you really did want to rant about it. Your friends are just a one call away, but they’re not any better. They’ll keep claiming ‘Megumi just needs time’ because they know it’s what you want to hear to make yourself feel better. Though, every once in a while, you needed to talk to someone who could actually slap the harsh reality at your face, and who else would be more suitable than a mature adult like Sukuna?

Looking at him now, the contrast between your roommate and your crush is immense. Where Megumi is all bark and no bite, all needy and never giving, Sukuna’s silent and compliant, an extremely good listener with the patience of a monk.

“It’s not that easy.”

“Yeah it is. Just block his number and avoid him. He’ll get the answer soon enough.”

“You don’t understand,” you groan in defeat. Sukuna faces you with worry written all over his face, seemingly tender in comparison to the tattoos marking his skin. Sometimes, it’s so easy to forget he’s actually a lot more decent than Fushiguro fucking Megumi, but you end up slipping anyway, turning to the sky just as tears prick at your eyes. “I…I love him, okay? I’ve always been in love with him even though I know I’m just someone who warms his bed. I know that much and yet…I can’t seem to let him go.”

Sukuna is silent for a full minute. You thought he’ll offer you some adult wisdom only people like him would now, but Sukuna simply snorts, happily licking at his ice cream as if you didn’t just break down in front of him. “Shit’s tough then.”

“You’re great at comforting, you know that?”

“Oh, I wasn’t comforting you,” he smiles and pats your knee, “Come on, let’s go home. I know just how to take your mind off things.”

With the way he’s caressing your thigh and his voice turned an octave lower, you chastise yourself for feeling aroused when you wanted to cry just seconds ago. But his fingers are inching closer and closer to your inner thigh, and he’s warm and strong – so fucking nice too that perhaps fucking him wouldn’t be such a bad idea.

But like always, Sukuna never fails to surprise you.

You expected he’d take you right to his room the moment you’ve crossed the door, but Sukuna dashes for the TV before carrying a huge blanket and heaps of pillow. You watch there, stunned. He makes quick work of fluffing the pillows before grabbing your wrist and pulling you above him the same way Megumi did a while ago.

The only difference? Your heart doesn’t skip a beat. You’re not intoxicated by his scent. You’re not trying to squirm away from him nor do you feel like a silly little schoolgirl who’s fallen in love at first sight.

Where Megumi is deceivingly charming, Sukuna is more like a strong pillar to lean on, which you do exactly. Your head rests on his shoulder, both of your legs tangled under the blankets he’s covered you with. He’s blinking as Tangled plays on the TV, the faint sensation of his fingers playing with yours comforting and way too comfortable. It should feel weird to hang out with a guy like this without him wanting to shove his dick deep inside you minutes later (your movie marathons with Megumi never really finish as previously planned) but with Sukuna?

It feels natural. It feels great. It feels like home.

You’re gaping at him long before you realize it, one of your hands absentmindedly playing with the strings of his hoodie. Sukuna hums along to I Have A Dream with a small smile on his face, one that forms into a playful glare as he catches you staring at him. “Don’t look at me like that. Disney is a classic.”

You fight back a smile. “Wasn’t complaining,” burying yourself deeper into his warm embrace, you’re lulled into an early slumber with Sukuna’s humming combined with the steady rhythm of his heartbeat.

His plan worked efficiently – for a moment, you forget your heart was aching to begin with.

After screaming internally for a good hour and a half, you arrive at the party anyway. The stench of weed, alcohol, and sex hanging thickly in the air is more than familiar to you by now. You ignore the catcalls you receive as you make your way to Megumi and fuck, he just had to look even sexier tonight.

He’s ditched his e-boy getup with a plain white shirt, black ripped skinny jeans, a Converse, and that black leather jacket he always refused to wear. Megumi really woke up and chose violence today, the minimalistic silver chain around his neck only adding to his appeal. You should’ve run away then – he literally screams trouble – but you’ve never been one to shy from that. Truth be told, you’re only pulled in harder, swaying your hips side to side as you sashay to where he’s laughing along with his friends.

Clearing your throat to get his attention, Megumi finally lays his eyes on you.

You’re glad you took the extra time to dress in your best outfit today – a lace orange mini dress that accentuates your cleavage just enough for a tease, paired with black combat boots and a white purse slung from your shoulder. Pride pumps through your veins when Megumi steps away from his friends, his hands encircling around your waist almost possessively. He smirks through your hair, those addicting lips trailing lower and lower down to your neck until, “You smell like another man.”

Now that you weren’t expecting. He doesn’t seem to be mad, perhaps a little jealous judging by how he’s grinding his crotch to your abdomen and tugs you closer, but this is Megumi in the question. He never gets jealous, so you flatten your palms onto his chest, eyes daring and red lips upturned into a smirk as you ask, “Why do you care?”

Megumi raises a brow – which really shouldn’t have been such a sexy thing – at your spunk. Normally, you’re too sweet and submissive to him, never would’ve even dared to dress something as revealing like this, but maybe you’re tired of being sweet.

Maybe this time, you wanted to match Megumi’s spice, fight fire with fire.

Megumi chuckles above your lips and swipes a thumb over your lower lip, humming when the coating doesn’t stain his fingers. He’s mentioned before he hates washing the lipstick off his dick, and the fact you remember that has him groaning at your ear. Unsurprisingly, Megumi’s already hard. He nibbles at the shell of your ear, possessive hands brushing over your collarbone as a silent promise of what he’ll be doing to you tonight.

“Like I said, this pussy is mine.”

You should say no. It’s evident in the darkness of his eyes he’s daring you to say no, but it’s too much. The cramped space that diminishes space until it becomes a myth, his hands rubbing circles at your hip, the glint of his new lip ring under the disco lights and anything, everything about Fushiguro Megumi just makes you feel so weak you can’t say no.

Satisfied with your silence, Megumi sweeps you upstairs. There’s already a round of Truth or Dare going on with a bunch of drunk and half-high college students, the lights red and the aroma of weed thick in the air.

It bothers you so you stick close to Megumi, nose stuck at the collar of his leather jacket. He’s not satisfied with just you sitting next to him; Megumi is territorial. He makes sure you’re comfy and using his lap like a throne, clasping both your hands in your lap while he boredly stares at his friends. Okkotsu Yuta, the host who used to be super shy in his freshman year but became one of the most sought after guys in his junior year, sits across from you in the circle. He’s already giggling in his drunken state while Nobara Kugisaki makes the mistake of choosing dare, flinging her bra straight at a very enthusiastic Yuuji.

They spin the bottle and it lands straight at you. Megumi hums in anticipation at the crook of your neck, his little sounds mixed with his heated touches sending fire straight down your core. It’s inebriating to have him this close, but you need to keep a straight head if you want to survive.

Fighting the arousal pooling at your stomach, you offer a flat smile. “Truth.” As expected, the crowd isn’t pleased. They holler, “Booooo,” with their hands cupped around their mouths, the others snickering at you, though you’re quite satisfied with the safety of your choice. You could be crazy with Megumi, but being crazy around others isn’t something you’re comfortable with.

Thankfully, Yuta shushes the crowd dramatically with a threat he’ll kick them out with his infamous Katana that’s been passed down by an ancestor. Once everyone’s calmed down, Yuta smirks at you, eyes wiggling as he asks, “Who’s the best dick you ever had?”

You don’t think twice about it. Someone else’s face pops up for a split second, but it’s so natural, so obvious that you would say – “Megumi.”

“Speak louder, baby, they won’t hear.”

“It’s you,” you suddenly grow shy at the attention, whatnot with Megumi shamelessly trailing hot kisses down your neck now for everyone to see. He’s shameless as he rocks you back and forth on his thigh, all the while keeping eye contact with the other guys whose eyes are zeroed in on the swell of your breasts that are an inch away from popping out from your dress. It’s the best time to submit, the perfect time to give him what he wants, and his expert hands prompt his name out of you with a single suck at your neck.

“Fushiguro Megumi.”

“Damn, Megumi, you’ve trained your bitch well.”

“’Course I did. My dick does all the disciplining,” Megumi cups your jaw to tilt your face at him, cooing at you as you flush embarrassed from everyone’s snickering. “Aw, don’t pout baby, it’s all just harmless jokes. You know I treat you like a goddess when we’re alone.”

“Yo, man, get a fucking room!”

Megumi ignores Yuuji’s comments and makes an offhanded comment the latter is just jealous because he hasn’t had his dick wet in days, ensuing a close dog fight between the guys. Maki has to step in and kick the strawberry haired boy back to his seat, scolding her cousin to back down. Meanwhile, you cling to Megumi like a scaredy-cat, head empty with nothing but the way he’s never hold you this close and proudly before.

Just one last time.

“Megs, your turn.”

“Dare.”

Yuuji slaps his palm over Yuta who usually gives the dares. The older guy rolls his eyes but lets it slide, knowing that Yuuji could also let loose with his dares. Megumi isn’t afraid though, he stays docile around you, leaving little nibbles at your ear and even squeezing your boobs at one point. You know he’ll never back down from Yuuji’s dares, even as his eyes darken with mischief. Now, Yuuji is a nice guy, but something doesn’t quite feel right with the way he’s staring Megumi down.

“I dare you to kiss the hottest girl in the room.”

Megumi freezes.

Time must’ve stopped because everyone is chanting, “KISS, KISS, KISS!” but he makes no move. You stay there, staring up at him wide eyed with your arms looped around his neck. Your heart is beating a mile a minute in your chest the moment Megumi’s eyes gaze down to your lips, smirking as he leans closer, leans down lower, and you close your eyes, waiting for the salacious kiss that would sear at the back of your mind. But it never comes and a gust of wind flies by through you, and before you know it, Megumi’s leaned over your shoulder, his hand cupping the cheek of this girl named Alicia who you’ve heard about from your friends before that she’s Megumi’s current pick.

Alicia was never supposed to kiss him back. Your friends told you, they promised you she wasn’t the type of person to fall for the likes of Megumi, and yet she’s smiling through the kiss. You’re still in Megumi’s lap but your vision is of the audience, their jaws dropped and Yuuji slapping Yuta’s thighs. “Oh, shit! That’s gotta hurt!”

You don’t think twice.

You push yourself off Megumi and run out the room, the sounds of their chaotic laughter mocking you to no end. You know – you fucking know – you’d never quite belong in Megumi’s circle. Everyone knows you’re just another one of his bed warmers, and they also know how much you’re hopelessly in love with him, begging, hoping that one day he might return your affections.

It makes perfect sense with each step you take further from the room. This has to be staged, intentional, because there’s no way Yuuji would’ve said that if he didn’t already have an idea maybe Alicia reciprocated Megumi’s feelings.

But what about your feelings?

Does no one really care? Were you really reduced to just another body count?

Your chest squeezed uncomfortably as you pushed past the crowd, ignoring everyone’s protests from how rough you were. You don’t stop until you’ve locked yourself inside a restroom, tears freely falling down your face. With trembling hands, you fall back to the floor, dialing the only person you could trust right now.

He picks up not three rings later, voice still gruff and laced with sleep. “Hello?”

“S-Sukuna,” you whimper, pathetically wiping your tears away with the back of your hand. “I’m – can you please pick me up?”

From the other line, you can hear Sukuna shuffling for something in the background. Keys dangle and he locks the door, the sounds of his rushed footsteps so relieving to your senses. “Where are you? What’s wrong? Did someone force themselves on you?”

“No, I just…I want to go home.”

“Text me the address. I’ll be there soon.”

You text him the address and end the call. From the outside, the bass is thumping so hard it makes your head pound. You’re already feeling dizzy from crying so much, hands clutched around your chest because it hurts so much.

Stupid Megumi, fucking stupid Megumi – but aren’t you the stupider one? You’re the one who chose to keep being with him despite the warning signs. You’ve heard what everyone said about him, his reputation as a fuckboy isn’t exactly a secret, but you hoped, you sincerely hoped you could at least be good enough. But you’re not not good enough – Megumi just simply doesn’t deserve you. You deserve better and he needs to go to hell, so then why does it hurt so much the more you picture how he’s humiliated you like that?

Your dress is beyond soaked from how much you’ve cried. At this point, you just feel achingly numb. The pounding in your head is matched by the soft knocks rapping against the door, and thinking it’s Megumi or one of his lackeys, you wrap your arms around your knees.

“GO AWAY!”

“Sweetheart, it’s me. Open up, let’s get you home,” It’s Sukuna. Scrambling for the door, you push it open and jump into his arms without a second thought. Sukuna effortlestly catches you, and the dam you thought had dried up in you breaks again. He stiffens as you cry on his shoulder, fists balled around his shirt in a vice-like grip. “Who the fuck made you cry? Is it him again?” he growls, “I seriously want to knock the living daylights out of him.”

“Don’t start a ruckus, Sukuna.”

“I won’t, I promise,” he visibly softens at your state. Sukuna rubs your back soothingly and lets you cry like that, shielding your vulnerable state with his arm. He moves you to hide your face in his chest and kisses the crown of your head, so gentle and unbelievably tender. “I don’t pick on someone weaker than me. That’s bullying.”

You don’t utter another word as he leads you out of the house. He mutters under his breath on how kids are so wild these days and he really can’t imagine he was once like that. Sukuna’s car is parked on the curb, and you rush for it, eager to go home until he stops you. He wraps his jacket around your shoulders to offer you some modesty and you offer him a weak smile, allowing him to embrace you from the sides to guide you.

“Hey!” Megumi calls out, “Hey, what are you doing with her? Let her go,” his footsteps echo behind you just as you clench your eyes shit, “I said let her go!”

“Don’t punch the kid, don’t punch the kid, don’t punch the kid,” Sukuna mutters to himself like a mantra.

“Yo, steroid guy, you deaf or what? I said let my girl go—” Megumi falls on his ass. He stares up at whoever punched him, eyes wide at Sukuna’s arm raised, but his eyes are on you. “Ow! You fucking bitch, you broke my nose!”

“Shit,” Sukuna laughs beside you as you wince at the soreness of your knuckle. “That was hot.” Somehow, you find the ability to smile. You’ve always wanted to top Megumi, but seeing him below you like this, weak and clutching his broken nose while whining about it like a little bitch, it feels a lot more satisfying.

You want to scream at him, to release all the profanities that have manifested your anger throughout the years. But Megumi crawls back with something unreadable in his eyes, the edges of his lips tinted red with a smack of lipstick, probably from Alicia.

The sight has you scoffing. Maybe you don’t have anything to worry about after all – Megumi hates lipstick stains with a passion. If he ever gets with her, they won’t last long enough.

That fact is enough for you to flip your hair over your shoulder, glaring at Megumi one last time before dragging Sukuna down by the collar. His laughter ceases the moment your lips collide, your hands teasing around his neck to brush at his undercut. Sukuna moans through the kiss, the way he’s explicitly grabbing the flesh of your ass a sign he’s aware what kind of game you’re playing. You make a mental note to apologize for this later, but for now, you’ll shamelessly savor his tongue and the minty aftertaste, grabbing at his large frame that picks you up with no ease.

You leave Megumi gaping at the lawn after that, your finger middle raised right before Sukuna speeds off.

Fuck, that has never felt so good. This feeling…it bursts through you. There’s this certain satisfaction in finally having the power at your fingertips this time around, and you you’re your wicked smile through your hair, too absorbed in your own feelings that you don’t register Sukuna’s worried tone at first.

“So…do you want to talk about it?”

“No.” He doesn’t pry afterwards, just shoots you a curious look. Just moments ago, you were crying and feeling like you’re on the verge of breaking down, but this adrenaline rushing through absolutely cannot fuck around anymore. The image of Megumi realizing he’s lost you is so exhilarating, and you twist your torso to face your roommate, grinning at his handsome features. He looks so delicious like this, black button up shirt left open at the top, his veiny, muscular arms driving one hand on the steering wheel and the other gently caressing your thigh. You suck in a deep breath, licking your lips as you purr, “Hey, Sukuna.”

“Yes?”

“Pull over.”

“Wait, why? We’re so close at home.”

“Pull over, I’m done,” you insist with a glare, although the animosity isn’t directed at him. Sukuna keeps his eyes on the road before he spares you a glance, smirking at how you’re already unclasping your bra from your seat.

“Oh, I see how it is. You’re going to use me as a stress reliever.”

At his words, your arms still behind you. You glance up at him with wide, worried eyes that immediately reach out for his hands in assurance. “N-No, I didn’t mean—”

“It’s okay, sweetheart. Usually, sex is a lot crazier when the other is angry. Use me as you will – I don’t really care,” he licks his lips and suddenly slams on the brakes under an empty parking lot, already flipping something in the engine. You’re taken aback as Sukuna discards his shirt in a second, his large arms carrying your frame to the backseat with him. Sukuna spreads your legs as he helps you get rid of your dress but it’s too tight that you just give up, leaving the material bunched under your boobs instead. Sukuna’s eyes darken at the lack of material under your dress, his fierce gaze shooting up to yours as he massages your inner thighs, his breath labored.

“What position do you want?”

“Fu-fuck, I don’t know, just fuck me,” you whine, spreading your legs farther to make space for him. He’s a tall guy with long limbs that he shrinks even with his fancy car, but he doesn’t seem bothered by it. Sukuna seems a lot more focused in fucking you in that moment because he’s unhooking his belt, diving down for one more kiss that is a lot heated and rushed than the previous one for show.

“I want to get rid of his face from my mind, I fucking hate him so much,” you can’t help but bite down on Sukuna’s lip, hard enough that it draws blood. Sukuna groans into your mouth, the sound so utterly deep and sexy you drip down on his seats even more.

“You’ll still go back to him after this?”

“No…it would be stupid if I did,” you roll your eyes.

“Good girl,” Sukuna praises as his lips leave a wet trail from your jaw down to the valley of your breasts. His smile is quickly replaced with a sinister grin, one of his hands cupping your breasts at the same time his teeth dart out to playfully nip at your breasts. He really shouldn’t look so enticing under you like this, and you’re so caught by his devilishness you fail to realize he’s already rummaging through your purse. “But I think lover boy still doesn’t get the message. We’re gonna have to punch it through his dumb skull.”

He hands you your phone, Megumi’s contact right before you.

“Sukuna, what’re you doing?”

“Call him,” Sukuna moves up to fish a condom out of his wallet and slides it to his already throbbing cock, chuckling at the way your eyes widen at his girth as if you hadn’t taken him before. “Call him and let him hear how I fuck you better, sweetheart. Boys like him won’t get the message unless you tell them directly.”

His hands clutch the backseat until his knuckles turn white, aligning himself with your entrance. You’re wet enough that he slides in easily and you moan loudly at the intrusion, pretty little gasps a sign of your pleasure. Helplessly, you grip at his bicep while your legs shake from how tense you are, the tantalizing movement of his hips pulling breathless moans from you. “And what better way than to take what’s his, right? What did he call this? His pretty pussy?” Sukuna scoffs, “Fuck that, stupid little boys can’t even fuck you right, don’t you think, sweetheart?”

“Ngh, Sukuna, that f-feels good, right there!”

“Right here?” he teases with a stroke of his cock that brushes against your tight walls. Sukuna’s face contort into pleasure when your tight pussy sucks him in, falling forward just to rasp in your ear. “Call him. Then, I’ll fuck you however you want me to.”

You don’t know how you’re able to swipe on Megumi, but he picks up in the speed of light like never before. Sukuna mouths loudspeaker and you follow his commands, Megumi’s voice booming through the sex-filled air of the car. “Where the fuck did you go? The party wasn’t over yet and you’re hanging out with some beefy, tattoed guy? It’s your roommate, isn’t it?” Megumi curses at someone before continuing, the aggravation evident in his tone. “He’s such a fucking creep, I swear if he lays his hands on you again I’ll—”

“You’ll do what, kid?” Sukuna challenges, “Oh and mind you, she’s the one who asked me to fuck her. As her concerned roommate and the more mature adult, I believe it’s my duty to listen to her complaints and make her feel better, especially when she keeps whining she’s not being fucked good.”

“Sukuna!” You whine and slap his arm, but you’re smiling, the pleasure and satisfaction of slapping Megumi this harshly making you feel greater than ever.

“Are you sleeping with her?” Megumi sounds like he’s losing his shit, and you sincerely hope he does. “Gosh, Y/N, how low can you be? I thought you were my girlfriend.”

“Girlfriend? Since when?” you attempt to scream, but Sukuna’s gripped your thighs and pulls your lower body closer to his cock in time to meet his thrusts. Your body slides off the seat and you’re left screaming Sukuna’s name, the latter wearing a shit-eating grin at the way you’re creaming around him. Somehow, your attention reverts back to Megumi’s whining. “You’re a fucking dick, Megumi, I honestly hope you choke on your small dick!” you shout and end the call, slapping your hand on your face as you throw your phone away. “I hated saying that.”

“Because you still like him or…?”

“No, because he was actually a good fuck and his dick is huge,” you say through pants. Sukuna must’ve hated how you’re talking about Megumi’s dick when he’s literally rearranging your insides, and Sukuna grabs your leg, manhandling you into the position he likes. You’re immediately on your knees with your back flat to his chest, your arms locked between your bodies as Sukuna takes you from behind. Your head falls back to his shoulders where Sukuna leaves messy open-mouthed kisses to your sweaty skin. “I fucking hate him. He’s such an asshole.”

“Hmm, well don’t spend too much energy thinking about him anymore,” Sukuna snarls at your skin, releasing your hands just to rub at your swollen clit. “Just let loose and let me take care of you. I’ll fuck you so hard you won’t even remember meeting him.”

The honest side of you wants to moan, the familiar tightening of your abdomen appearing already. He’s hitting all your sensitive spots that you can barely think, only feel, but you also feel so powerful and enraged that you cup Sukuna’s cheek, narrowing your eyes at him. You hit his thrusts by pushing back against his cock that causes him to slide in deeper, the large man groaning deep within his chest.

“You sure about that?”

“Oh, hundred percent confident, baby.”

“Let’s see what you got then,” you teased him. Pretending you’re not seconds away from coming is an even bigger challenge than leaving Megumi, but for the sake of riling up Sukuna, you would do it.

“You’re challenging me?”

“If I don’t cum at least twice, then that’s going to be a damn shame.”

“Twice? That’s not even the minimum,” he shakes his head tauntingly at you, increasing his pace until the sounds of his balls smacking your ass and both your groans are filling the dead silent night. It’s so lewd and dirty that your tongue lols out from the pleasure, eyes shut tight because you’re close, so fucking close! “You’re going to lose your fucking mind,” Sukuna said as a final warning.

You didn’t think too much of it until he pulls out of you seconds before you came. The crestfallen look written all over your face makes him laugh, but Sukuna only turns your body and goes down on his knees, hitching your legs over his shoulders. Your chest falls up and down as he dives down to your sopping, abused cunt, hands threading through his hair before he rudely flicks it away. “No. Hands to yourself. You’re not allowed to touch me,” he hissed, but his roughness is softened only by a little bit when you whimper so sweetly for him. “Don’t pout, sweetheart, you’ll get your chance when we get home. For now, since you’d so rudely woke me up and left me without inviting me for dinner, I’m starving.”

Sukuna dips between your thighs, tongue poking out to take the first taste of your juices. Your reaction is instantaneous and gratifying; head thrown back, nails dug into the seats, legs quivering and falling open wider to welcome the warm, wet muscle that licks flat from your entrance up to your clit.

“Fuuckk, Sukuna, slow down, ngh—”

“He ever ate you out this way?”

“No, I don’t know, I don’t know.”

“Can you take it, sweetheart? Should I stop?” You know he’s teasing you, the sniggers muffled from your pussy lips are still heard but you can’t fight back, not when your legs turn to jelly at his ministrations.

“Keep going, fuck, please, I will slap you if you don’t make me cum tonight,” you threaten, and Sukuna smartly responds by sucking your clit into his mouth. He rolls it between his teeth, careful enough not to hurt you while plunging two fingers deep inside you, curling it into a come-hither motion that stretches you pleasurably. “Too, oh, shit!”

“You can’t even talk properly,” he chuckles, and the vibrations that come afterwards shatter your entire world. “And this is just my tongue. Feels too good?”

“Yes, yes, too good!” you cry out, “Sukuna, em coming!”

Your orgasm has no build-up whatsoever. You lay there panting with a silent scream as your nails scratch against his seats, toes curled as it comes down into you in one, hard slap. Sukuna hums as he licks up the arousal trailing down your pussy to not make even more of a mess. “Already? I haven’t even started yet,” he sighs sarcastically, “Don’t think I’m done with you. I did say you’d lose your mind, right?”

Sukuna has now joined you on the seats, flipping you to the side where he hooks one leg under his arm, your other leg extended to your side that remains flushed at the seats, his thighs squishing yours. It’s utterly challenging to move in this position and you’re completely at his mercy, the sight of his tall, dominating figure above you forcing you back into a submissive space. He doesn’t give you much time to recover before his cock is pushing past your pussy once more, bottoming out in one, swift thrust.

“’Kuna, too sensitive, mhhm—”

“You’ll take it,” he breathes out while peppering kisses at your ankle, “Come on, you’re a good girl, yeah? Give me one more.”

“Su-kuna, it’s too much!”

“Just one more.” Sukuna elicits moans from you the harder he thrusts, leaning forward until you’re crying out from the stretch of all the muscles in your body. He’s being nice today by letting you cum more than twice in the exchange of holding back his, because he’s absolutely throbbing inside you. He picks up a rougher pace from where he left off, saying your name through gritted teeth as you tighten around him. You’re squealing and whimpering from behind your fists, overly sensitive still from your previous orgasm.

His hips roll in such a mind-numbing manner before Sukuna rams into you utterly deep, your bodies flushed so close you can feel the heat pulsing from his skin. Sukuna tenses above you before he brings you to your orgasm, with him following not long afterwards.

Sukuna pulls out with a groan and ties his condom in a knot, discarding it above his clothes. Upon hearing your soft sighs, he immediately rushes your side and pats your cheek to wake you up. “Hey, look at me,” he commands, though his voice is gentle and soft. “You good?”

“Yeah,” you breathe out through fluttering lashes, “Yeah, I’m just tired,” extending your arms to him, you wrap your legs around his waist to bring him close. “Come here. Want cuddles.”

Sukuna gives in to your request for a few minutes and stays wrapped up with you. It’s perfect to be in this state, to be held so close and not just touched, the intimacy of it all bringing about unfamiliar warmth that only ever makes itself present when he’s here. “As much as I want to stay like this, we’re sweaty and sticky,” Sukuna murmurs through your hair, his hands roaming all over your skin. There’s no other sexual meaning behind it even as his rough palms graze past your mound. His touches are more like him exploring your body out of curiosity, out of the desire to just have you this close. You’re unsure what to feel about it and your mind is uncannily clear after an orgasm, but Sukuna’s already sitting up with you above him before you could ponder about it any longer. “Let me take you home first, then we’ll cuddle. What do you think?”

“Oh fuck,” you cut him off upon seeing the flashing of your screen. “It’s Megumi. Fifteen missed calls.”

“Lover boy is crazy,” Sukuna snickered behind you.

“Good thing I’m crazier,” you shut your phone off and throw it to the passenger’s seat, beaming up at Sukuna and giving him the puppy eyes from behind your shoulder. “Can we get milkshakes on the way?”

“I think you got enough milk.”

“Sukuna!”

“I’m kidding, I’m kidding!” he raises his hands in surrender. You pout until you feel something hard and wet poking your bottoms, and Sukuna smirks, gesturing to his erection that you haven’t noticed. “You do know that I’m still hard, right? I’ll fuck you again when we get home.”

“You could’ve just let me suck you off.”

“Nah,” he refuses, “I want to feel you come around me,” Sukuna cockily winks at you, and your mouth falls open, gasping in disbelief at how vulgar he could be. He steals a quick kiss then as he tugs his pants up, the sight of him rolling his sleeves back up to his elbows thoroughly…compelling that you’re left salivating at the ripples of his muscles. “I’ll just wait ‘til we get home. Right now, I need to treat someone like a princess and get her some food.”

“You should stop saying that,” you blurt out defensively, “Sweet lies won’t get you anywhere.”

“I wasn’t lying about anything. I meant every word I said.”

The tension thickens in an instant. Sukuna looks at you warily – or perhaps worriedly? – before he situates himself back in the driver’s seat, starting the car right after you’ve fixed your appearance. Considering it’s already late, he’s struggling to find any restaurant or diners open to appease your cravings, though he doesn’t complain about it.

You fiddle with your hands on your lap, unable to find a proper explanation to his behavior. “Sukuna…” you start off nervously, refusing to look him in the eye. “Do you uhm…do you like me?”

“What kind of question is that, sweetheart?”

“I meant…maybe you just like me for my body, you know?”

“Oh, don’t worry about me, sweetheart,” he tilts his head towards you, “I’m too old for drama and playing with people’s feelings. Like I said, the cards are all in your hands now. If you want us to just have casual sex, I don’t mind, but if you also want to be, uhm…” Sukuna awkwardly rubs at the back of his head with a clear of his throat, the tables turned because now he’s the one who can’t meet your gaze. “…something more, then I won’t refuse that either. I’m up to whatever you want to do.”

“And if I said that…maybe I’m considering getting to know you better?”

“Then maybe I would happily say yes.”

You smile at how easily he lightens up the mood, feeling a smile already playing on your lips as you giggle. “Just a maybe?”

“Just shut up and kiss me,” he groans, averting his eyes from the road (it’s empty anyway) to get a quick peck. You whack his arm and his laugh only grows louder; he knows you’re not really angry, because he kisses really good and you like it a lot more than you’ll admit.

“I’ll be a hundred times of a better boyfriend than what you’d expect.”

“You’re really confident, huh?”

“Oh, I’m confident I can treat you well,” he nods proudly, head tipping back to the backseat. “I did just let you ruin my leather exterior and let you walk away while I have a raging boner. Do you have any idea how much self restraint a man has to have to let that happen?”

“Probably an immaculate one. Megumi would never let me go unless he’s came.”

“Yeah, well, fuck that guy,” Sukuna doesn’t even bother to try and hide his hatred for your former crush, and you’re smiling like a lovesick fool on the seat. “You’re with me now. So, since I want to spoil you, how many milkshakes do you want?”

Back then, you were always too addicted to lies that seemed so sweet that you couldn’t be able to stop. But now that you’ve met Sukuna, perhaps the blissful truth is a lot sweeter, and it’s a much healthier addiction you’ll take any day.

taglist: @thesimpsclub @uwubby-1 @expectoscamander @your-consulting-fangirl @dora-the-grownup @cosmotoic @charlie-xo @kittaliapenn @sukunas-cult-leader @flowersgirl02 @cloudsinthecosmos @90s-belladonna @averysheart-raleighsdick @generousstudentpsychic-bat @kat-su-ki @issamomma @sklycan @ggsmashgg @dora-the-grownup @ninefuckingoneone @ambiguous-something

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queen-haq · 3 years

Text

Fic: A Woman Scorned - Part 13

Pairing: Billy Russo x Reader

Rating: R for language and smut.

Words: ~3000 words.

Summary: You’ve been sleeping with Billy Russo for a few months now. Knowing his aversion to emotional commitments, you’re satisfied with your clandestine arrangement until you catch him having dinner with Dinah Madani one night. Then it finally dawns on you. It’s not that he doesn’t want to commit, he just doesn’t want to commit to *you*.

Billy may think he knows you, but he has no idea what he’s just lost...

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5 Part 6 Part 7 Part 8 Part 9

Part 10 Part 11 Part 12

gif credit: @bilyrusso

Part 13

It was 8 in the evening and you were still in the office. You hadn’t accomplished much work today, your mind mostly focused on Billy. You were surprised by how quickly he’d been able to make the funeral arrangements for his mother. Yesterday you had driven over to the nursing home and by the time you reached there, Carla Russo’s body had already been picked up. You’d signed a few papers for Billy and picked up the remainder of Carla’s things before you returned home. Everything of hers was packed into a small suitcase and sitting in your living room. You wanted to call him, ask him how he was and offer your support, but he seemed determined to do everything on his own when you’d talked to him last and you didn’t want to intrude.

You gave yourself a mental shake, reminding yourself to concentrate. This workday had been a wash. When you weren’t distracted by thoughts of Billy, you were putting out fires in your team. At least the personnel conflicts have been temporarily resolved, but now you needed to work on a slide deck that you’d been tasked with presenting to the executive leadership committee later in the week.

An hour later you were halfway done with your presentation when your phone rang. You glanced down at your screen to find Billy’s name on the screen. “Hi.”

“Hey.” He sounded exhausted. “You still at work?”

“Yeah. How did you know?”

There was a pause. “You give off the workaholic vibe.”

You smiled to yourself; at least he was okay enough to crack jokes. “How are you?”

“You mean am I grieving over a goddamn dead woman who preferred meth to her own fucking son?” He sighed. “No big loss. I’m fine.”

Anger and hurt saturated his voice despite his attempts to sound unaffected. Your heart hurt for him, you wished there was something you could do. “Do you need anything?”

“The funeral service is tomorrow.” A beat of silence followed. “Do you want to come?”

“Sure. What time?”

“2pm.”

“I’ll take the day off. Do you need my help with anything? Maybe I can call some of her friends?”

“When I found her she was living on the streets, barely alive but still hooked on meth. I doubt she’s got any friends.”

“What about the people in the nursing home? Maybe they want to come?”

“No, I don’t want anyone else there. Just you.”

Not liking the warmth that spread through you upon hearing his words, you reminded yourself he was probably feeling unusually vulnerable. This wasn’t typical of him.

“Do you want to come over?” he asked.

You exhaled a heavy sigh. “I would but I have so much work to do. I’ll be here for another hour at least.”

“Come over after you’re done.”

“It’ll be really late.”

“That’s fine. I can wait.”

“I can stop by my place to pick up your mom’s-.”

“No, it’s okay.”

You realized he wasn’t quite ready to go through Carla’s belongings yet.

“Bring your stuff with you.”

“Stuff?”

“Overnight bag, clothes for tomorrow, whatever.”

“Oh. You want me to stay over?”

“Yeah, might as well. We can drive over together for the service tomorrow.”

“Okay.”

Despite the conversation coming to a natural end, he wasn’t hanging up. It seemed as if he was reluctant to be alone, probably because that meant dealing with the complicated emotions for his mother. You knew exactly how that felt. “If you want, I can leave now. I can work from your apartment instead of the office.”

“You’re not worried I’ll be tempted to spy on Valiant stuff?” he teased.

You smiled. “As if I’d let you see what I’m working on.”

“Guess no corporate espionage for me tonight.”

“Still going to keep you away from my laptop.”

He chuckled. “Just get here. I promise not to bug you while you work.”

“Okay. I’m leaving now.”

“See you soon.”

After you hung up, you started gathering your things together.

***

An hour later, you were at his place. When he opened the door, you immediately grew concerned at how tired he looked. Traveling back and forth from Vegas plus dealing with the news about Carla’s death within the last few hours meant he was absolutely exhausted.

“Hey,” he greeted you, smiling as he took the overnight bag from your hands.

You removed your heels while he took your bag inside his room and then made your way to his living room. While his penthouse suite was much bigger than yours, you actually didn’t like it very much. Despite the high-end finishes and the beautiful interiors - Billy had obviously hired a designer to make the place look good - it always felt very cool and inhospitable to you. It was too perfect and you always felt out of place inside the suite.

“You hungry?” he asked, coming up behind you. “I ordered dinner for you.” Arms encircling your waist, he dropped a kiss on the back of your head as he maneuvered you to the kitchen. He’d laid out the food for you on the dining table, and from the take-out containers you knew it was from one of your favourite Indian restaurants. The thoughtful gesture surprised you, you weren’t used to that from him. Noting that he’d only set the table for one, you turned around to look at him. “You’re not going to eat with me?”

“I ate already. I was starving. Sorry.”

“Don’t be sorry.” You cradled his face with one hand, your eyes roving over his beautiful face as he placed a kiss on the fleshy part of your palm. “You look exhausted. Did you even sleep?”

“No” He leaned back against the kitchen counter, weary. For a moment he closed his eyes, simply holding still, and you found yourself wrapping your arms around him in a hug. You didn’t understand why you’d even initiated the embrace – hugs were never your thing – but seeing him so beaten-down you were desperate to comfort him. He leaned into you, his body flushed against yours, and you held him tight. Stroking the nape of his neck, you placed a soft kiss on the center of his forehead. “Why don’t you take a nap while I work?”

“You don’t mind?”

You smiled up at him, running your fingers through his hair. “At least I don’t have to worry about you stealing my company secrets while you sleep.”

He smirked. “You’ll be here when I wake up?”

“Yup. Probably still working away.”

Billy grazed your temple softly before dropping a tender kiss on the tip of your nose. “Okay, but eat first.”

You nodded your head, watching after him as he sauntered out of the kitchen and disappeared down the hallway.

Sighing, you went to the sink to wash your hands before eating.

***

It was after midnight and you were still working on your slide deck when you heard Billy puttering around in the bathroom. Soon he slowly made his way towards you, dressed in a t-shirt and black boxers, his hair all messy. He yawned lazily, falling onto the other end of the couch.

“I thought you’d sleep through the night,” you remarked.

“Are you still working?” he asked.

“Almost done.” You saved the file and shut off the laptop before slipping it back inside your bag.

Suddenly he pulled you closer and you found yourself tucked underneath him on the couch as he glanced down at you from above. “You work too hard.”

You smiled up at him. “They don’t pay me the big bucks to sit there and look pretty.”

A slow, incandescent smile curved his lips. “I would. If I ran Valiant, you’d be my personal stress relief. You’d be in my office the entire time and do nothing but look pretty and service me.”

“That’s sexual harassment.”

Billy shrugged his shoulders. “Whatever. I’d make it worth your while.”

You laughed, angling up to kiss him. “Your breath is all minty fresh.”

“I brushed my teeth for you.”

“Wow. Be still my heart.”

A warm grin covered his face as he shifted down your body to nuzzle your neck. His weight was heavy as he rested atop you, but you liked the solid feel of him on you, the way you felt all safe and warm. You stroked his hair while he drew lazy circles on your chest, the silence between you two comforting.

“No one knows about her. Not Frank, not Curtis, no one.”

Those names were familiar to you because Billy had mentioned them in passing a few times. Of course he’d never shared any other info, but you being you, you’d dug around and found out more about them. You knew they’d served with Billy and he considered them his closest friends.

“When I found her three years ago, I put her in that home and forgot all about her.”

“You visited her every week,” you reminded him.

“Because I wanted her to regret abandoning me. I wanted her to see how far I’d come, I wanted to throw her mistakes in her face. But I don’t think she regretted safe-havening me, not even a bit.”

The bitter pain in his voice made your heart hurt for him.

“Maybe I should be happy she’s finally dead, or maybe I’m supposed to be sad or something.”

“How do you actually feel?”

“Nothing. I feel nothing.”

“Billy, I think that’s normal. There’s no right or wrong in this. All of your feelings are valid.”

“Even if her dying made me absolutely ecstatic? You wouldn’t think I was a fucking psychopath?”

“You are a psychopath but not because you have conflicting emotions about your terrible mother dying. You have the right to feel how you feel about her, whatever that might be.”

Eyes blazing with emotion, he hovered about you to meet your gaze. “Then what makes me a psychopath?”

You quirked your eyebrow. “The fact you want to torture my dates.”

“Not just torture, I want to kill them.” Eyes darkened, voice velvety-smooth, he covered your mouth with his and ravaged you with a kiss that left you thrumming and breathless.

“Only you’re allowed to touch me?” you asked through labored breaths.

“Yes.” His voice was a lustful rasp, his mouth leaving a heated trail as he sucked on the oh-so-sensitive corner of where your neck and shoulder intersected. Sparks of electricity ran down your spine. “Only me.”

You took his hand and guided it down your body, parting your thighs for him.

Like always, you were soon completely lost in the erotic pleasure of his mouth on you. Your legs hooked over his shoulders, your hands grabbed the back of the couch for support as he fucked you with his hands and mouth, sucking you, licking you, his tongue flicking over your clit until you were keening under him. Body arching off the couch, you moaned his name louder and louder until he drove you completely over the edge.

Then you felt a light slap on your cunt which immediately brought you back to reality. Opening your eyes, you found Billy perched between your legs, gracing you with the most wicked smile. “That’s one.” He slapped your pussy again, this time his long, lean fingers ever so slightly grazing your clit and your hips bucked, wanting more. “As promised.” His eyebrow quirked up. “Punishment.”

“Not fair,” you protested. “I’ll date who I want.”

He slapped you again, a little harder this time, but then he leaned down to place comforting kisses on the very spots he assaulted and you moaned with pleasure.

“All of you.” His tongue lapped over your clit, eyes locked with yours. “Belongs to me. I own you.”

“You don’t!” You squealed when he flipped you over unexpectedly, grabbing you by the hips so your ass was lifted of the couch. And then he squeezed your butt cheeks, biting them lightly before he started rimming you.

***

After sharing a shower the two of you were laying in his bed, your back pressed against his chest as you both stared up at the ceiling. His one hand was intertwined with yours, the other arm circled around your hips. The two of you didn’t have sex but you didn’t mind. You were both fatigued.

“I smell like you now,” you murmured, realizing the soap in his shower had left its scent on you.

“I know. I like it.” He squeezed your fingers. “I have a present for you.”

“I hope it’s not earrings again.”

He chuckled. “No, not earrings.”

“What is it then?”

“Jewelry.”

You turned back to look at him. “What? Like a necklace?”

“Something like that. Except I’m the only one who’ll see you wearing it.”

“Ah. And where is this gift?”

He kissed the top of your head. “Not here yet.”

You smiled to yourself. “People usually wait until they have the gift in hand before telling others about it.”

“I couldn’t wait. I’m excited to see you wear it.”

He stroked your hair, and your eyes grew heavy. Soon you started falling into deep slumber, feeling calm, comforted by Billy’s arms around you.

“What happened with your family?”

Your eyes flew open. Like always, any mention of your family unfurled anxiety within you. You didn’t like thinking about them letting alone discussing them. “They passed away.”

“They’re dead?”

“Yes.”

“Both of them?”

“Yes.”

He pulled you up so you were facing him now, his intoxicating gaze completely focused on you. “That day when I asked you about the pictures, you said you weren’t close to your family.”

“I meant my extended family. I don’t keep in touch with them,” you replied smoothly.

“What were your parents like?”

Irritation surged through you at his obtrusive questions but you had to remind yourself he just lost his mother. He was feeling out-of-sorts, working through his grief – even if he didn’t think so – and he was reaching out to the only person in his life that knew about his mother. “Normal.”

He simply stared at you for a long time, studying you, saying nothing. “Normal,” he repeated, finally breaking the strained silence.

You shrugged your shoulders, dropping your gaze to the base of his throat so you didn’t have to hold his piercing stare. “Yup.”

“How did they die?”

“Car accident.”

“You miss them?”

“Of course,” you lied.

He reached out to cup your face, his thumb stroking your cheek. “So you grew up with great parents, white picket fence and all that bullshit? Sounds like you had a fairytale childhood.”

“Can we talk about this tomorrow? I’m really tired.”

“Sure. I’ll add this to the list of all the other shit we’ll talk about someday.”

He sounded almost angry with you and you weren’t sure why. Before you could question him, however, he pulled you close so you were snuggled against his chest and the warmth of his body was enough to silence your brain and lull you to sleep.

***

It was a cold, crisp autumn day in New York. The outdoor service, attended by only you and Billy, was short and quick. Throughout it, he’d gripped your hand even though he’d been outwardly calm and collected. Even now as he stood a few feet away from you, impeccably dressed in a black suit, his dark eyes hidden behind a pair of aviator sunglasses as he stared out at the pond, you sensed he was a complete mess inside. You didn’t know what to say to him so you simply sat on the bench, both of you in an isolated corner of the garden. Eventually he came to sit beside you, taking your hand in his.

“I’d have given her the whole world.” His voice was filled with pain and longing as he removed his sunglasses and tucked them in the upper pocket of his suit. “I would have given her anything she ever wanted.” Billy’s eyes met yours. “If she’d just wanted me.”

You scooted closer to wrap your arms around him, breathing him in as he sunk into you. His hands caressed your back, his grip on you so tight you almost couldn’t breathe. After a while he rested his forehead against yours, his eyes holding you prisoner in front of him.

“Swear to me you’ll never leave.”

“Billy-”

“Promise me!”

“I can’t.”

“It wasn’t a fucking request, Y/N.”

You tried to pull away from him but he fisted the back of your hair, holding you in place.

The raw urgency in his voice played havoc with your emotions. If you closed your eyes, just for a moment, you could shut out all the doubts in your head and simply believe him - but you could only live the fantasy for a short moment before reality forced its way back in. “You don’t mean those words, Billy.”

“Why do you say that?”

“Because you don’t feel that strongly about me.”

His eyes narrowed, glaring at you with hostility. “You’re gonna tell me how I feel?”

“I’m not what you want.”

“And what do you think I want?”

You gave him a sad smile. “The best of everything. Best car, best clothes, the most beautiful women in your arms. You want all that because you need others to want what you have.”

“Is that so wrong?”

You shook your head. “No, there’s nothing wrong with that – except I don’t fit into any of those categories. You want a woman like Dinah Madani. I’m not her. So eventually this thing between us will end.”

His jaw was set in a grim line, eyes burning bright with rage. “So you have me all figured out, huh?”

“Don’t get mad. You know it’s the truth.”

He yanked you closer, crushing you against him. “It’s been me against the world for as long as I can remember. But when I look at you.” His eyes softened, mouth parting as his dark gaze roamed over your face. “I don’t feel alone anymore.”

Your heart melted. The tenuous handle you had on your self-control disintegrated completely. You closed your mouth over his, kissing him frantically as he picked you up and straddled you across his lap.

He pulled back to look at you. “You’re my home. You’re all I need.”

Part 14

A/N - As always, all of your feedback, comments, asks, likes and reblogs are deeply appreciated. They truly inspire me to keep writing, so thank you from the bottom of my heart.

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#billy russo x reader #billy russo #ben barnes #the punisher #billy russo imagine

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clnriswood · 4 years

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DRACO MALFOY X CEDRIC DIGGORY X READER

Something Different | Part One

premise: With Lord Voldemort’s recent rise to power, it’s no surprise that the usually lively aura of Hogwarts has had a signigicant damper placed upon it during the girl’s sixth year there. As she enters the new school year, now a prefect alongside her best friend Cedric Diggory, Y/N battles with uncovering the dark secrets that lie within the elusive Draco Malfoy. In doing so, she uncovers a greater darkness; the one within herself. As tensions rise amidst her pivotal sixth year, sorrow truths make themselves seen, and an unexpected love flourishes.

*In this timeline Cedric was born the same year as Harry, and therefore didn’t compete in the Triwizard Tournament. Instead, it was Angelina Johnson who suffered a horrible fate under Voldemort’s terror in Harry’s fourth year.

a/n: I haven’t been this excited to write in MONTHS. This is going to be a long and angsty journey and I couldn’t be more thrilled to write it. Please do give a like/rb if you enjoy it and be sure to ask if you’d like to be put on a tag list.

Platform nine and three quarters was roaring with life. Footsteps fell heavy as children rushed to the glittering scarlet train, owls screeched amongst the commotion, and luggage scraped as it met the inside of the locomotive. Amongst the commotion, one girl in particular found herself being especially jostled around as she rushed full speed at the soon closing doors of the Hogwarts Express. Her hair was tied messily into a ponytail, strands of all sorts and sizes flying free and finding themselves tangled against her eyes and lips. Her breath came fast and heavy as she leapt onto the train and patted quickly at the glimmering sheen of sweat on her brow. The students around her were causing an unruly clamor, one she tried passively to slide her way through, her eyes wide as they searched high and low amongst the crowd for a familiar face. A rogue toad had children yelping and jumping from its way, the creature making a straight beeline towards the girl, who scoffed absentmindedly and scooped the creature up with an upward curve of her lips.

“Neville,” she laughed softly to herself.

The sound of the train roaring itself in preparation, a deafening whistle bellowing from its belly, sent the crowd dispersing. The girl flinched up in surprise, edging her shoulder past a fellow classmate, who turned sharply to face her. His jet black locks were messy as ever atop that glorious little lightning bolt on his head.

“Harry Potter,” her lips split, eyes twinkling with like.

“(Y/N),” he mirrored with a huge grin.

“Stop by my compartment later?” the girl asked hopefully.

“Uh-” Harry’s eyes narrowed as he gave a faint little shake of his head. “Maybe, yeah. I’ve just got to go about something first.”

She stared at The boy-who-lived with wide eyes, knowing full well the expression he wore was one of what could only be mischief. But, being six years in now, she knew better than to question whatever adventure the idiot was chasing.

“Alright,” she shrugged in defeat, extending her hands. “But do me a favour and return Trevor to Neville, will you? Before you go and do whatever stupid thing it is you’re planning?”

Harry nodded, “of course.”

His searing green gaze narrowed on someone, or something, rather, further along the way down the train. Whatever it was, though, was not hers to find out. The girl gave Harry’s arm a little squeeze as she made way down past the bustling compartments and towards one she knew would surely have a spot for her. By the time she’d reached the end of the slowly moving train the halls were cleared empty… or so she thought. For a figure, clad in dark fabric, found itself barrelling into her front, making the air shoot from her lips in surprise as she went stumbling back. He, being taller than her, towered over her front. From her vantage point, the girl saw only a crisp black tie and the steel cut jaw of a boy with snow white skin. The cologne on his front hit her nostrils hard, filling her lungs with a remarkably sharp minty fragrance. While that alone may not have been enough to tell her who the boy was, her eyes needn’t make it past the sneer he wore to tell her it was Draco Malfoy. Her eyes shot up to his elusive blue ones, unsurprised to see they were brimming with annoyance.

“(Y/N),” her name rolled off his tongue with distaste.

As long as she’d known the boy he’d said it that way. First when she was sorted into Hufflepuff and he’d jeered at her not sixty seconds after her departure from the Great Hall, and every year after that, when he got the chance. Likely, the only person he had more of a distaste for was Harry Potter himself.

“Draco,” she jeered back, her brows knitting with dislike.

He looked different from the last time she’d seen him, when he’d exposed her and every other member of the D.A. to that old hag Dolores Umbriddge. Gleaming from his chest, for the first time, was an emerald green prefect’s pin. But that was the least notable change about him. Far more noteworthy was how the boy looked a little leaner, a little paler, and a little more gaunt. His hair was cropped neatly and there was a sort of sallow sadness that sunk into his skin. Even his eyes lacked their usual annoying glimmer. The girl saw this all, and it made her searing gaze soften. If she didn’t know better, she might be worried for him.

Draco seemed to catch onto the unspoken words her face was telling, for his eyes flickered quickly away as he scoffed shortly and nudged her harshly aside with his shoulders, dismissing the girl with a final jeer.

“Oi, Malfoy,” a voice stopped him.

The boy turned, his eyes lifting to meet his speaker.

“That’s no way to treat a lady,” continued the amused voice of Cedric Diggory.

The girl turned, her face aching as she gave the boy the largest smile she could muster. Cedric Diggory was already in his robes, like her, but they were loose and messy, just like the golden brown mane that grew dangerously long atop his head. His yellow tie was undone around his neck, and featured well with the golden “prefect” stamped pin he wore. The summer sun had kissed his skin just a little warmer than usual, making his ocean blue stare more intense than ever. He gave her a wink with those stupid blue eyes and flashed his white teeth attractively at her before snapping his attention back to the Slytherin.

“Yeah, you’d know all about that, Hufflepuff,” Draco scowled in reply.

But even his scowl seemed off, like it was taking more out of the boy to be a nuisance than usual.

“Come up with something new!” Cedric encouraged with a wave as Malfoy slinked quietly away.

The girl couldn’t help but snort, dropping whatever little nerve Malfoy was striking to focus her attention back on her best friend.

“Ced,” she pursed her lips hard as she fought back another grin.

“(Y/N),” he glowered, his skin flushing with warmth as he scooped her into a hug.

She threw her arms loosely around him, thrusting her weight off the balls of her feet so as to better reach him. The familiar scent of aftershave and parchment greeted her nostrils, and the back of his neck was cool where her hands rested. The girl prepared to shrug him off with her usual little friend-pat but grew concerned when she realized Cedric was hugging her just a little bit tighter and longer than he normally had done in the past.

The boy seemed to realize, as he pulled quickly away with a little grunt, “you smell like lavender.”

She chuckled and tilted her head in confusion, opening her mouth to reply but finding herself following Cedric quickly into their compartment before she could. The train was moving fast now as it departed from platform nine and three quarters. Two of her fellow housemates, Ernie Macmillan, and Julian Dolohov, awaited them. She noticed at once that Cho Chang was missing from the group, but Cedric looked unbothered. Her friends greeted her as she plopped down into the seat beside the chilly glass window, pressing her head to it as she sunk lazily back and made chatter of her summer. When it came her turn to talk, the girl shrugged modestly.

“Ced and I practiced loads of quidditch when I visited,” she said. “Otherwise I was with Hermione, first at her parent’s place and then cooped up at the Leaky Cauldron.”

Her thoughts grew a little distant as she reminisced on the now dark and un-lively cobblestone paths winding through Diagon Alley. Practically the only source of life left in the place, in fact, was the Weasley’s Wizard Wheezes. Having no family in her own picture, the girl had found herself frequenting the Granger’s, something she didn’t quite mind being that Hermione had been her closest companion for years now. With her mother being murdered at a young age, and her father vanishing alongside Lord Voldemort soon thereafter, Hermione was the closest thing she had to a family. Come to think of it, she must be going off somewhere with the other Prefects now, she thought.

“...for the quidditch team, right?” she heard Cedric finish, interrupting her thoughts.

The girl snapped back to reality, “sorry, erm, what?”

Cedric laughed, “I was just saying that you feel ready to try out for the team this year, right?”

The girl laughed an airy laugh, “uh, yeah.”

That was a lie. She felt nowhere near ready for that kind of anxiety inducing horror. But Cedric held strong in his belief that she was ready, and as captain of the team, she had to trust him just a little, right?

Julian grinned, “yeah well, Cedric could always lend you some extra time to practice one on one, now that he’s freed up.”

“Freed up?” the girl raised a brow.

Cedric clenched his teeth together in annoyance, giving his friend a shove to the ribs.

“Yeah, since him and Cho broke up,” Ernie continued obliviously.

The boy half yelled half grunted with frustration.

“You and Cho broke up?!” she gaped.

Cedric slumped his shoulders in defeat, his eyes growing particularly interested in a patch of ceiling as he nodded. His long fingers found themselves toying with the soft blue felt on his seat.

“Why?!” she said, her mouth still wide. “I mean, if you don’t mind my asking.”

He squinted with an aggravated little tilt of his head.

“Wanted different things I guess,” he mumbled, clearly uninterested in discussing the topic further.

“Alright,” she dropped it cooly, glancing quickly at the other boys, whose expressions told her they knew more than she did.

Cedric, still warm with pink, stood abruptly, “c’mon, (Y/N). We have duties to attend to.”

“Yes, right,” she cleared her throat, glad for a semi smooth change in topic, “we’d better be off.”

Their friends whooped and whistled at the two, feigning a swooning amazement at their prefect status.

“Shove it,” Cedric snorted, his nose wrinkling as he grew redder yet.

“Wait,” she stopped the boy, who was already halfway out the compartment.

He turned, face quizzical as her hand met the side of his arm. The girl turned him forward and reached into her chunky black boot, from which she procured her wand. She was silent as she flourished her wand, dragon heartstring and vine, and gave it a graceful swish. Cedric’s tie momentarily gained a life of its own as it curled up, around, and under, before resting neatly against his chest. He looked dashing as ever.

“Thanks,” he chuckled, his eyes glittering appreciatively.

The sky was growing dark with rain now, and it came pelting down hard against the windows, like fists on the glass. The two prefects began to make their way down the Hogwarts Express and to their obligatory Prefect meeting, but hadn’t gotten three steps down the corridor before a sudden BANG threw them off guard.

For an instant, it seemed that a sneaker, attached to an invisible body, flew past them. No sooner had the foot passed than an explosive cloud of black erupted around them, filling the air with a glittering black smoke. Her friends, from behind her, threw the doors of their compartment shut with a cough and wave about the air.

“What was that?” she spluttered.

“Probably just some first year messing about,” Cedric assured, unbothered as he fought his way through the sea of darkness.

The girl arched a brow as she waved a curl of the black mist from her face, “yeah, probably.”

She doubted that seriously.

. . .

The Great Hall was quieter that year. One might expect as much given that the incarnation of evil had been reborn. The hundreds of glittering waxy candles winked at students from above their heads, the bright house ties of the students flooded their respective tables, and the glass overhead made clear the inky scape of the night sky. Everything looked the same, but the feeling in the air was sticky and thick with buried worry. During the more somber house assignments, the girl found her mind drifting, stretching as high as the Hall’s ceilings. She couldn’t help but drift. Neither could many others, it seemed. The usual buzz of nerves and excitement was instead replaced by a deathly quiet. And so, as she sat, she scanned the many faces in the hall. First Cedric, whose eyes flickered instantaneously to hers, and who gave her a massive flash of his teeth, making her heart feel just a little lighter in her chest. And then she looked to Harry Potter, who had stumbled into the Hall late and now stared forward while a ridiculous glob of blood dripped from his nose and onto his lips. In questioning, her focus then shifted to Hermione, who’s weary brown eyes met her own before she indicated her head with a tilt across the hall, to Draco Malfoy. The girl’s eyes went there, next.

Draco was hardly attentive to the words the Sorting Hat spoke. Instead, he had his chin resting lightly upon his neatly folded hands, his eyes dark with some sort of silenced hurt as he stared holes through the oaky Slytherin table. While the feast then shortly commenced, the huge gleaming platter before him sat empty and lifeless, just itching to be filled like those of his friends around him. But they were all engrossed in their meals, and never once did the snow white boy show interest in eating, talking, or even moving. He played the part so well she almost considered if he’d simply frozen himself right there, his elbows iced into the hard surface beneath them. But a quick glance to his white knuckles, which were dripping in fine gold rings, told her she’d found the perpetrator for Harry’s broken nose. A thin line of blood trickled across his middle finger, and it was as scarlet as the ruby red blood dried to his arch enemy’s face. That made her grow hot with rage.

As she glanced back at the boy's empty plate, and then to her own, she found that she wasn’t particularly hungry either, but Cedric continued to sneak little pieces of pork and potatoes he’d cut for her onto her plate, insisting she eat. As she did so, her eyes absentmindedly met their final interest; Cho Chang. She was only one table away, but it was her stare that beckoned the girl’s own. Cho’s lips formed a tightly sealed line as her eyes went first to the girl, whose hair was unruly and sunshine yellow tie was crooked, and then to Cedric, who was somehow managing to make cutting vegetables look appealing. Those eyes looked glossier when they left than when they had first seen her, but Cho had turned away so fast that she couldn’t quite make out the tears forming in them. While a normal friend might’ve found it concerning, the truth was the two girls were never quite close. Cho hadn’t seemed keen on pursuing the girl’s efforts at kindling friendship, and she’d always either kept to Cedric or her own friends when they’d been dating. Now, it seemed clear enough that there was a world of resentment between the two. Or, maybe just on her side, it seemed. In reality, Cedric hadn’t even noticed his ex girlfriend’s gaze. No, he was too busy fighting off a housemate's hand and trying to procure the last chocolate covered strawberry for (Y/N) beside him, who sat festering in the millions of thoughts shooting through her brain like fireworks.

Her thoughts had been quelled only to a dull roar by the time Dumbledore gave his closing remarks to the students of Hogwarts. He stood before the Hall now, his voice soft and contemplative as his speech came to its end.

“Every day, every hour, this very minute, perhaps… dark forces attempt to penetrate this castle's walls. But in the end, that greatest weapon… is you. Just something to think about.”

His audience was silent in reply.

As he departed from the podium, the old wizard’s beard flew gracefully, robes billowing as he swept back to his seat with a push of his glasses up his crooked nose. The man sat thoughtfully, his all knowing blue eyes observing the students before him with a look that read strangely like it could be the last time he might do so. The hand he pressed to his lap was black, she realized, and charred with decay. But there was nothing to fear, surely. For he was the great Albus Dumbeldore, and he made Hogwarts the safest place she could possibly be. That’s what she had been thinking, when she noticed.

As the students around her had clamored loudly about, rising from their seats and speaking in a low chatter, she noticed one other person, still in his seat, staring at Dumbledore. But he didn’t stare in the way that she had, with concern, or with reassurance. No, Draco looked right at Albus Dumbledore, and the look he wore was one of fear. At least that’s what she’d gathered, in the short moment before his steely icy eyes came snapping her way and narrowing right in on her own curious ones. She waited for a scowl, a sneer, anything of the usual sort, but it didn’t come. His perfectly slender white fingers were light against his hollow cheeks, and his eyes moved quickly back and forth between the contemplative parting of the girl’s lips and the sharp arch of her brow. And so the girl looked at the boy, and, for what was perhaps the first time ever, the boy looked back.

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obutsuwrites · 4 years

Text

needy (brother!dabi x f!reader)

summary: Turquoise eyes bore down into you. "Put them down my pants." Chapped lips curled into an impish grin. Lopsided and showing a sliver of teeth. His pink tongue poked out, as if to imply it were a joke. xxx i did little editing n wrote this on my phone oops warnings: ball worship/play (maybe??), cum, handjob, incest, licking, smut, spit word count: 2,086 masterlist | tipjar | twitter | commission info | ask box is open taglist: @shigatomu @sadjealouswhore @tenaciousgothstudentauthor @kaccatus @proxy9301 @yanderewoods @the-originals-lover

The sky was void of stars. A black canvas you stared into, body shivering. Touya -- like any good older brother -- sat next to you. His leg was rubbing against yours. He felt incredibly warm despite the chill. You stared into your open palms. It was your fault Touya was stuck out here… with you. He was just being a good brother. He insisted. Wanting nothing more than comfort, you greedily complied. You hated these fights. Shouting matches between your parents seemed punctual during the holidays. Your father blamed the stress, your mother blamed him. You? You blamed their cursed union.

Your heart hurt at the thought of it; love that meant nothing. Touya tried to be reassuring. He claimed your folks still loved each other, it just wasn't the same as yours. Touya's love was extra special. Something so precious no one replicate it. You liked to think he had your best interests at heart, despite his rough exterior.

Touya smelled like cigarettes and obnoxious deodorant. You knew the strong scent was meant to hide his habits. Mother and father didn't know he smoked. Touya told you simply, "It's our little secret. Isn't it meant to be special?" You didn't know; secrets felt wrong to keep, but Touya only wanted the best for you. He told you all the time. You were his sweet little sister. His keeper. Being so close to him made your heart swell. Touya was nurturing towards you, if not babying you at times.

There is a comfortable silence between the two of you as Touya huffs down his cigarette.

"I'm sorry," you mumbled, still staring into your hands. You felt useless like this. Touya had to be hurting, too. He just hid the ache for your sake. It was selfish. You looked up at Touya. His chiseled features were blessed even under streetlights. Sharp jawline, piercing eyes. A man far more handsome than any other. You wondered if wanting to kiss him was normal. Just a peck on the cheek; like when you were kids. He'd pepper you in sloppy kisses, cheeks stuffed with gushers. The sensation was obnoxious. His sugary drool mixed with the kisses, and dribbled down your face. Touya would point and claim you were dirty now -- so as any good brother-- you were treated to a hot bath.

Touya pulled you back into the wintery night, a lazy arm draped over your shoulders. "Don't worry about it, little sis. You're my favorite, ya know that, right?" Compliments from Touya weren't rare. His raspy voice brimmed with praise. Passing comments that cemented 1themselves in your mind -- like a root. You wanted nothing but make him proud. And yet, you let him down by being such a baby. The shouting had again forced you outside. Neither of you were dressed for such chilly misery. Touya clad in flannel pajama pants, torn hoodie. Black boots beat all to hell. His only complete jacket was draped over you. He didn't want you to catch a cold.

You flash him a smile, "You're my favorite, Touya. I love you!" You buried your face in his chest. Tiny arms wrapped around his lean frame. Despite his height, Touya was a teddy bear; always seeking your comfort. His displays were cute, but you sometimes wondered if they meant more. If he wanted you closer. You waved away the perversion, opting to take a sniff of Touya.

Harsh cigarettes and minty aftershave. A smell that reminded you of headpats and random touches. Touya couldn't seem to keep his hands to himself. He needed to touch some part of you, always. You didn't know anything else. If anything, his calloused hands felt like home. Secure.

"Like the smell?" Touya laughed. His chest vibrated against your head. A roar. The sensation was familiar. Touya's laugh was rhythmic. Something buried within it was almost hypnotizing. You could listen forever. His joy was practically infectious.

Your voice came out muffled, "Touya… you smell good." A lazy haze was in your voice. Being so close to Touya was intoxicating. Your older brother in your future was inevitable. An ending you looked forward to. Anticipated. His body was warm; your heater in the chill. Touya's lean muscles relaxed into you. He was enamored with the affection. Blind devotion to older brother Touya… Kinda hot.

He flinched at the thought and shrunk in your hold. Was it… These were fantasies? Visuals that haunted him during cuddle sessions and sleepovers. Any skin to skin. No matter how insignificant. He ached for you. Flashes of you naked, asking big brother Touya to cum in your cunt. Fill you up until you couldn't take anymore. Your face red and feverish underneath him.

You returned the perceived attention, and nuzzled into your favorite big brother.

"My hands are cold," you remarked. The very tip of your fingers dared to poke out, pricking the cold. The flesh was starting to ache. Your blood was so frigid it hurt. A river in the dead of winter. Barren. More ice than water.

Admiring eyes looked up at Touya. Intense and starry. Touya compared your eyes to a nebula; infinite and overflowing with sparkles. There was something electric in your eyes. Something Touya couldn't ignore. He tried to, like any good brother, you didn't believe in no. You hunted him down until you became attached to his hip. Your body was too much; your space was his space now. Touya once read it was trauma bonding -- survival for both of them. But Touya liked to think you liked him despite it. He'd envision you dating him. He was convinced you would if you weren't related, why else can he touch you? Some naughty piece of you was a degenerate… just like him.

Turquoise eyes bore down into you. "Put them down my pants." Chapped lips curled into an impish grin. Lopsided and showing a sliver of teeth. His pink tongue poked out, as if to imply it were a joke. But under the luminance of amber, Touya’s lean body was hard to ignore. Every breath came out with a shiver; muscles relaxed and contracted again under his tattered hoodie. He acted like the cold was a joke. Touya wanted to be the big brother you depended on -- your first.

Wide, innocent eyes looked up at him, your mouth slightly agape. You took his words at face value; Touya wouldn’t do anything wrong. Why would he? He was always protective, always looking out for you… always the one to sit outside with you, no matter how miserable the weather. Neither could you deny your curiosity. ‘Being that close with Touya…’

Your fingers lingered on the hem of pants. The material was plush. You hoped his thighs were as soft. Pillowy and welcoming and warm. He felt like home… He was home. Touya brought you comfort, security, and a certain joy you didn’t find with anyone else. Not even friends.

Your breath came out hot and ghosted over his neck, “Okay, Touya.” His name played on your vocal cords in a melody. It was a sound he wanted to hear forever. Courage was in your heart as a hand snaked under Touya’s pants. Only one, a test. You desired this closeness with him -- chest aching and pulse racing. Yet the act itself still carried an air of taboo. Neurons in the back of your skull fired off with judgement. You blissfully shoved away the thoughts and shoved another hand down his pants. His thighs were sturdy. Athletic. Blood slowly began to trickle back into numb fingertips. The familiar sensation of a sore heat.

Silence again fell. Touya stared off into the distance. An attempt to ignore how delicate your hands were. How good your hands would feel wrapped around him..

Touya adjusts himself. Your hands follow suit and rested ever closer to his crotch. You saw he wore plain black boxers. Thin material that forced you to hyperfocus on his bare thighs. Touya had noticed the crimson that flooded your cheeks. Like any good brother, he decided to catalog the memory. It was only fair to tease you later.

“Thanks, Touya.”

He makes a mistake and looks down. Your eyes are so big, so wanting. Touya can’t help himself.

Calloused hands eclipse yours. Touya is as cold as the wintery night. Frigid. Icy. He’s gentle and guides your hand to his bulge. You can feel the outline of his veins. His member is thick. Touya rubs your hands against it; a twitch shoots through his cock.

“You wanna touch it, little sis?” His eyes are bright in the night. Azul gems that twinkled and burned. His voice is gruff. Words laced with lust. The sound is unfamiliar, but you recognize the heaviness to it.

Tiny, curious hands sneak into Touya’s boxers. You try to learn his body; fingers grasping for any contact. Your fingers trace his veins, until interest bears too much, and you give a careful stroke. Touya shutters in response, “D-don’t stop.” He whimpers, something unheard of for your capable older brother. Touya sounds so vulnerable. A spark ignites in your stomach.

His hands grip wiry thighs as you gingerly work his cock. Touya tries to steady himself. Years were spent and counted with hope. Fantasies of your hands trailing down his body. Inexperienced fingers dwarfed by his cock. His day dreams usually involved you complimenting him -- insisting he was your favorite brother. Your favorite.

"Touya, can I see it?" You couldn't have asked anymore innocently. Your voice carried a quiet squeak to it. It was a familiar warmth. Embarrassment. You hadn't touched anyone like this before. Truthfully, Touya was the only person you wanted to touch. He carried comfort. Some concrete sense of home. Blood had returned to your fingers, the ache now gone.

Touya nods, black hair showing roots. He fit a redhead just as well, but the rugged man preferred sticking out. He wanted you to remember him. Touya craved to be your only thought. Your only desire. He noticed how loyal you were -- keeping little secrets and lying for him. Touya heard it once, but you told a lie for him. "No, Dad. The neighbor's were outside smoking. Touya sat with me again."

His keeper.

Innocent eyes widen; Touya's cock is unlike anything you've imagined seen. His cock was lengthy, veins thick and pulsing. Under yellow light and a starless sky, his head twitched. The sterling metal caught your eye.

"Touya..?"

Before you can make your sentence tangible, Touya glides your hand over his exposed cockhead, "Please." His eyes burn with need. Sweat glistens his cheeks. Touya looks at you like you're the moon; luminous and shining for him. You feel like his world in this moment as your fragile thumb strokes Touya's sensitive head. He squirms under you and occasionally pants a little too loud. Drool collects at the corner of his grin.

The sight of Touya inspires you. One hand wrapped around his length, pumping him, and the other works his now slick head. Pre-cum leaks down his cock and provides ample glide. A furnace begins in Touya's stomach -- the familiar sensation of an orgasm.

"St-stop, baby." The term makes your eyes glow, "Play with my balls." Roughly, he shoves your moist hand onto his balls. Intrigued, you give them an experimental kneed. In response, Touya grinds into you and coaxes out a shiver. Gently, you worked his balls. Massaging and caressing. Working his needy flesh.

Suddenly, Touya's nicotine breath is obvious in your face. Blue eyes drink you in before a pink tongue laps at your cheek. Touya is relentless. He slobbers you like a dog -- no regard for his spit nor your comfort. Saliva trails down your chin. You close an eye and continue to pump him. His tongue is squishy, hot, and wet on your cheek. The humidity of his breath contributes to your rosy gleam; cheeks red and moist. His need physically manifests. Greedy, narrow hips thrust into your palm. Hungry for contact.

"Don't stop. G-gonna cu-cum," his words fall out tangled and breathless. Being a good little sister, you quicken your pace. His cock pulses and a deep groan rumbles from his chest, the vibration heavy against you. Cum spurts from his pierced slit and onto your fingers. Syrupy and thick. It coats your hand and feels almost too warm.

You sit in silence while Touya tries to regulate his breathing. His calloused thumb rubs your heated cheeks. Flushed and wanting to please.

"You need a bath, little sister."

#dabi x reader #touya x reader #bnha #smut #mha

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babbushka · 4 years

Text

A December To Remember

Lawyer!Kylo Ren x Reader

4.1k, cw: Possessive behavior; name-calling; unwanted advances from another man; NSFW (Rivals/rival relationship/enemy lovers, PIV, fingering, semi-public sex/office sex)

Available on AO3

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

When the elevator doors open, Kylo has to physically brace himself. He had heard the music blasting from seven floors away, his discomfort only growing bigger and bigger as the elevator ticked up up up to Gwen’s lobby. His hands clench into fists in his leather gloves, refusing to take them off.

He wasn’t going to be here long, he promises himself as a conga line of santa hats nearly steps on his Allen-Edmonds; he just needed to show his face, have a drink, and get out. The office is all geared up for Christmas, Kylo walks through the winter wonderland of flocked trees decorated in white and gold, garland wrapped around support poles, big faux presents arranged nicely. There’s a live band and although they played well, the music is a bit much, as are the people singing along. Kylo tunes it out to the best of his ability, on a mission, a hunt.

One thing he can at least appreciate, was that this was a cocktail party, which meant everyone was dressed up nicely. Kylo loves an excuse to bring out his expensive suits, Burberry sitting nicely on his broad shoulders. No one could say he didn’t try to be festive – he had put on a black tuxedo made of soft mohair wool, that happened to have a saucy lapel of black satin for some holiday flair.

As he walks through the crowds of attorneys who Kylo has never seen laugh and smile so much in his career, someone hands him a peppermintini. It’s not long before he feels a tap on his shoulder, and he nearly spills the cocktail by whirling around, thinking that at last, he’s found you.

He has half a mind to smile, but whatever he had thought of saying goes out the window when he sees it is not you, but rather it’s his friend Gwen. She’s gorgeous in a silver slinky number that dips down her muscled back very low, and Kylo leans in to press his cheek against hers in greeting.

“Well well well, look who actually decided to show up.” Gwen nearly has to shout to be heard over the volume of the party.

He rolls his eyes at her teasing, takes a sip of the offending holiday cocktail – where the fuck could a guy get some whiskey around here?

“I was invited, wasn’t I?” Kylo replies, even though he’s not really looking at her. Gwen is probably the only person he knows who is as tall as him, and tonight she’s wearing heels which make her actually a few inches taller.

“Yes, but I’ve seen the stack of unopened invitations sitting on your desk.” She snaps her fingers in front of his face, drawing his attention back to her for the time being as she raises a platinum blonde brow, “Let’s not you and I pretend that you’re here because you want to enjoy the cheer of the holiday.”

The both of them exchange a little huff of laughter, because really she was right. Kylo is here because he had heard through the grapevine that you had RSVP’d, and there was nothing that could have prevented Kylo coming to see you if that were true.

“I’ve been informed that it is appropriate to make appearances now and again, even brief ones.” He sighs into his drink, nose crinkling at the sheer minty-ness of it.

“You can’t leave you just got here!” Gwen groans, “Stay for a little while, there’s some people who want to talk to you.”

“Whether or not I stay is contingent to one thing.” He shakes his head with a grimace, and at this Gwen’s sharp eyes sparkle with the light of knowing his secret.

“I last saw her over by the buffet.” Gwen sips her own cocktail, speaking lowly enough so that only he can hear, not like anyone is listening.

“I don’t know who you mean.” Kylo’s palms immediately begin to sweat inside his gloves, and he fixes the wall a hard stare to avoid that knowing look in her eye.

“Between you and me, I’m surprised she showed up just as much as I am that you did.” Gwen scoffs, and that at the very least was something Kylo understood.

As difficult as it was trying to pin Kylo down for something as unsavory as a Christmas party, you were notoriously hard to convince to come to anything for the holidays if you didn’t feel like it. It was one of the things that Kylo appreciated about you – not that Kylo liked you, or anything.

He shakes the thought away from his head.

“But you’re sure she’s here?” Kylo asks, an intensity to his question that has Gwen laughing.

“Yes – and do try not to make a scene.” She pats him on the back, before sauntering away to go entertain.

“What’s a Christmas party without a little scandal?” Kylo mutters to himself, trying to figure out which way the food was.

He recognizes people from six or seven different law firms as he tries to cut his way through the party. Gwen hadn’t been joking, about a dozen men in suits shake his hand and introduce themselves, congratulating him on winning his most recent case. Interns have stars in their eyes when he passes, and Kylo tries his best not to be such a grinch to their faces.

At this rate, he’s starting to get frustrated and irritated, he still hasn’t found you. The peppermintini was long finished, and he didn’t ask for a refill when he passed the bar. The entire outing was shaping up to be a waste, and Kylo is about ready to give up when he finally catches a whiff of your perfume.

“…That’s nice.” He hears your disinterested voice pipe up from a spot on the other end of the lobby where he has wandered, and Kylo lets himself be led to you, using his height to search for you in the jovial crowd.

Some schmuck is trying to herd you in the direction of where a big sprig of mistletoe has been tied under a doorframe, and the minute Kylo sees it happening, jealousy and rage simmer up straight up his spine.

“Isn’t it? I got the sonofabitch off a ten-year sentence. He was absolutely guilty but, that’s not my problem anymore.” A handsome pretty boy with perfectly straight teeth that are practically fluorescent from how white they are tries dazzling you.

“Uh huh.” You sound like you could not care less, and that for some reason only makes Kylo angrier – couldn’t this boy see that you weren’t interested?

Kylo tries to say his excuse me and his pardon mes, as he winds through the lobby on his mission to you. It’s difficult, because you won’t stay still for fucks sake, so every time Kylo thinks he’s just about gotten to you, you take a sharp turn to try and lose the boy’s unwanted attention.

“So anyway I was thinking to celebrate, maybe you can come back to mine after this shindig gets wrapped up.” He says, slipping an arm around your waist.

Kylo’s blood boils.

“Excuse me?” Your tone shifts dramatically, from uninterested to offended at his presumptions. Your body stiffens up at once, and that arm drops from your waist like he’s been electrocuted.

“I brought my own car and everything, we don’t even have to take the subway.” The boy tries to impress you, but you’re having none of it.

“I don’t think so, I have no intentions on going anywhere with you.” You shut his advances down, “Tonight, or any night.”

This angers the boy, which in turn makes Kylo see red, and he doesn’t even realize that he’s literally shoving himself in between happy couples and groups of cheerful friends to close that last bit of distance between you and him.

“Well then what the hell have you been doing this entire time, leading me on like this?” The boy reaches out to grasp harshly around your wrist when you try and make your leave, “Hey – !”

“She said no.” Kylo’s voice is dark and dangerous as he appears behind the boy, who drops your wrist at once.

“Kylo?” The sound of his name on your lips is enough to keep him from killing this boy in a blind rage, and his eyes flick to you in a very curt greeting.

“Listen to me -- and listen to me carefully.” Kylo looms over this lesser attorney, casting a shadow over the boy’s face from the sheer breadth of him, “I am going to close my eyes and count to three. If you are still here bothering this woman when I open them again, I will reach down your throat and rip your lungs out through your mouth and I will make it look like an accident. Understand?”

“Y-yes.” The boy stammers out, nearly chokes.

“Yes what?” Kylo sneers, jaw clenched.

“Yes sir!” He squeaks in terror -- Kylo doesn’t even have to close his eyes before the boy is scrambling away, and everyone around you is snickering at how he’s gone bright red in the face as he leaves the party entirely.

Now that that was taken care of, Kylo holds a hand out for you, which you take automatically. He would never admit to it, but the feeling of your palm against his has him calm almost at once.

“You have to stop doing that, you know.” You say, as Kylo leads you away from the crowded party of the lobby, and out towards the big balcony.

It’s cold outside, the past few days bringing a light dusting of snow, but you don’t seem to mind. You’ve got a fur stole wrapped around your shoulders to keep you warm. Even out here has been decorated to match the Christmas spirit, with twinkling lights covering every available surface.

“Oh but it’s so fun to watch them squirm.” He smiles, pulling you close to him as the two of you rest against the railing.

“No, not that,” You shake your head, “I mean rescuing me. I can handle myself.”

“I know you can, but again, where would be the fun in that?” Kylo only winks, and you lightly smack his arm.

You’re about to say something, when you notice that dangling above both of your heads is a bit of mistletoe, tied together with a red velvet ribbon. It spins ever so gently in the slight breeze from being so high up, and you nudge Kylo’s hand on the railing with your own.

“Look.” You whisper, and Kylo looks up too.

“Now who put that there…?” He grins smooth as ever, as he ducks his head down and kisses you.

Kissing you was rapidly becoming one of Kylo’s favorite pastimes. It was too bad you were such a fucking pain in his side most of the time, if you weren’t so stubborn and difficult, he’s sure you’d spend a lot more time kissing each other.

But then again, you are stubborn and difficult, and you have no intention of stopping. Kylo hates that about you, hates how upset it makes him. No one gets under his skin the way you do, and so he pays you back by giving you the best kiss of your life – that’ll show you.

Your mouth parts for his, eyes closed. Your breaths come out in little sighs, and Kylo feels his body reacting to it. He hasn’t been able to get a good look at you all evening, but when he does, he loves what he sees. You’re wearing a dress in a color that perfectly compliments your skin, in a shape that fits your body exactly how you like it to.

His hands grasp at your hips a little too tightly, making you nip at his lower lip with a teasing smirk.

Christmas has never been something Kylo cared remotely about, but he’s big enough to admit that the lights really do wonders for making you look like a goddamned movie star. You both pull away enough just in case someone were to look out the window or come onto the balcony and see – neither of you could really have that, it was bad enough that there were bets about you through the different firms, the last thing you needed was to let any one side win.

“It’s criminal, how good you look.” Kylo tugs on the fabric of your neckline, “Someone ought to do something about it.”

“Hmm, like what?” You play along, your hand reaching down down down and grasping a hold of Kylo’s cock, ever so briefly, giving in a squeeze.

“Bend you over and fuck you hard, just the way you deserve.” He presses his mouth against your ear, he can practically hear your heartbeat picking up.

“Too bad you scared off poor Mike,” You say with a tsk of your tongue against the roof of your mouth, “I bet he would’ve loved to do the honors.”

Mike, that was the schmucks name? Kylo had almost forgotten entirely about him, about the way he had put his hands on you without your permission. He would make a couple calls, get the kid fired.

Or demoted, at the very least.

He wasn’t sure yet.

“You want to get me mad, is that it? And here we were having such a nice time.” Kylo looks around again, makes sure no one is seeing anything that’s happening out there on the balcony as he snakes a hand up up up your thigh.

“Maybe I like it when you’re mad, maybe I know you’re going to show me a real good time.” You smirk, and Kylo is reminded why he hates you so much, you’re so spoiled, getting whatever you want whenever you want it.

“Such a fucking brat.” He snaps, hand reaching for your and tugging you back through the doors with a, “Come with me.”

Kylo is faced with the party once again and is trying to find the best way to get the fuck out of there, when you pull him in a different direction.

“No – I know a spot, this way.” You bite back a pleased grin, and Kylo has to roll his eyes, letting you lead the way.

Deep deep deep in the bowels of the office, far away from the lobby and all the festivities, the music sounds a million miles away. You’ve tugged Kylo into a conference room with big glass walls and a glass door, like a little zoo enclosure. It’s nearly pitch black, none of the lights are turned on. The only illumination is from the city outside, the ambient glow of New York beginning their celebration of Christmas. The Rockefeller tree shines brightly a few blocks down the road, a perfect view from this conference room.

Fleetingly, Kylo has half a mind to ask you to go ice skating, but then you’re hopping up on the table and spreading your legs, the skirt of your dress hiked up around your hips. You’re not wearing any panties, a pair of thigh garters holding up your stockings – and Kylo’s mind goes blank.

“Aren’t you cold?” He asks, immediately pushing you farther up the table, wanting a better view of your pussy as your thighs rub together from being so exposed.

“Yes,” You admit licking your lips, “But you’ll warm me up, won’t you?”

Kylo groans, bites off his gloves with his teeth, wastes no time in trailing his fingertips through your folds. You squirm at the touch, wanting to be filled by him, any way you could get it. He dips them deeper between your legs, nothing but the sound of your breathing filling the quiet of the room.

“Slut, god what a fucking slut you are – look at you, pussy already wet for me.” Kylo grits out between his teeth, his cock filling out in his expensive trousers, straining against his briefs.

His fingers seek the wet heat of your cunt, and he pumps them in and out slowly while he tries undoing the buckle of his belt. Your hands help him, your legs falling open farther as his fingers bury themselves in your pussy. The stretch is beautiful, and you moan, leaning back until you’re resting on the table fully.

“Are you going to talk? Or are you going to fuck me?” You challenge from your spot on the table, your hands rubbing up and down your stomach, hips lifting so he can finger you a little faster.

“Both, I can do both, fuck you’re sexy.” He huffs, unbuttons his suit jacket, shucks down his trousers and briefs enough to pull his cock out and give it a good few strokes with the hand that’s not thrusting in and out of your cunt, blunt nails dragging against your walls.

“I know.” You’re full of yourself – full of Kylo – and you moan from the thought, “Hurry up, someone could catch us.”

“No they can’t, I locked the door. It’s just you and me sweetheart – thaaaat’s it.” Kylo replaces his fingers with his cock, your folds swallowing him down, oozing and dripping slick all over your thighs.

He shoves in roughly once he’s got the head in, pushes into you in one fluid motion that has your back arching. Kylo grabs at your legs, is careful of your heels as he pins your ankles together and tucks them against his shoulder, your body pressed together as he begins to thrust in earnest.

“Yes! Fucking finally,” Your palms smear sweat on the polished wood of the conference table, and before he knows it, you’re pulling one hand up to lightly smack at his arm. “You know I’ve been waiting here for you for two fucking hours, you asshole.”

Only you could give him such an icy glare while also pushing your tits up for him to play with. Kylo reaches out to pinch hard at one of your nipples, and you whine, your thighs trembling just a little from being held up like this.

Kylo’s big fat cock stuffs you full, your pussy even tighter from having your legs pressed together like this. Normally he likes to look down and watch his dick disappear into you, but he can barely see your face as it is in the dark of the room, so he doesn’t mind. Besides, he can feel you – can feel the way you throb and pulse around him, how you flutter and clench, and it’s enough.

“If I had known – damn you’re tight – you’d be here – fuck (Y/N) – I would’ve come earlier.” Kylo latches himself to your neck, bending you nearly in half as his hips speed up, his balls smacking against your ass as he pushes you up up up the table.

“I – ah Kylo be careful,” You warn him when one of your shoes falls right off your foot and lands on the wood with a thud. He rips the other one off and throws it to the floor, leaving your legs in nothing but the stockings and garters. Your hand tangles in his hair as you press him back down to your throat, where he sucks and bites at your skin. “I don’t know why you couldn’t just fucking call me back. We – oh yes, yes harder come on – we could’ve avoided all this bullshit.”

“You’re the one who hung up on me last time!” Kylo pulls himself more upright, scowling down at you as he grabs your face, gives your jaw a little shake.

“Oh!!” Your body tenses up unexpectedly, his cock accidentally slipping out and pushing back in wrong.

Kylo fumbles just a little bit in the dark, lets your legs fall as he tries to fix the angle, tries to get himself back inside your pussy as quickly as he can. It just feels wrong to not fuck you, it feels wrong to not be joined with you as completely as possible. Even when you’re scowling at him and he’s glowering right back at you – maybe especially then.

“Relax for me?” Kylo strokes your hip with his thumb, and your body gives way for him once again, your legs wrapping around his waist as he pushes back in and continues fucking you exactly like you like it, “There we go, anyway you wouldn’t have answered me.”

“Could’ve – faster Kylo, you could’ve left a voicemail.” You hiccup, and he hates that you’re right.

He hates it as your body opens up for him, takes him, takes the fucking. You’re such a fucking princess you make him do all the work with a big smug grin on your face before he shifts his hips just right in a way that’s got your eyes rolled back into your head, mouth dropped open. He grabs your jaw again and makes out with you, wants his tongue on yours, wants your teeth scraping against his.

“Sure – fuck you, ugh fuck, I’m – ” Kylo can barely get the words out, kissing you and fucking you in the dark and quiet like this, while everyone enjoys the party just beyond the locked door of the open floor plan of cubicles.

“Me too,” You nod, desperate for him, wanting to come so badly that you twine your fingers into his hair and tug sharply, voice breathy and high and panting as you demand, “Kylo more – !”

He gives it to you, plows his cock into you so hard that he pushes the table askew, makes the chairs on their rolling wheels move all over the place from the effort of it. He bites down hard onto your neck and rubs your clit, rolls it between his fingers while his cock forces itself as deep as it can go, shallow thrusts to fill you up all the way, pushing right up against your cervix, making you yelp out your orgasm.

Feeling your cunt throb and gush for him, Kylo comes soon after, pumping himself in and out mindlessly, the both of you reveling in your pleasure. With a weak shaking hand, you tug down the sleeves of the bodice of your dress, let it fall away from your breasts. Like a moth to flame, Kylo is drawn to your cleavage, and he wastes no time pulling one of your tits out of the pretty lacy bra you’ve got on.

He sucks and kisses at your flesh as his cock pulses and spills more come into you, the both of you trying to catch your breath. He spares a glance up to you, pleased to see you’re fucked out nicely, eyes closed, lips parted and drooling just a little onto your cheek as you’ve got your face turned to one side. Kylo lets his eyes close too, mouths at your nipple until he’s sure he’s emptied himself inside of your wanting cunt.

Then, when he pulls you to sit upright on the table, instead of helping you with your clothes or even cleaning up the mess between your thighs, he stays buried inside of you and fishes his phone out from the inside of his jacket pocket.

“What are you doing?” You ask with a nosy frown, trying to lean around his big hand and see what he’s pulling up on his phone.

Kylo just kisses you quiet, dials the phone and puts it up to his ear while it rings.

“Calling the car to come pick us up and take us back to my place,” He murmurs against the corner of your mouth, before cracking the joints in his neck and grumbling, “Unless you’d rather mingle with a hundred boring nobodies like Mike instead.”

You just scrub a hand down your face with a smile, try to start fixing your hair back to something less mussed.

“I’m starving, can we pick up takeout on the way?” You stretch, wincing when Kylo finally does pull out of you, the feeling of being empty making you grimace just a bit.

He chuckles and kisses you again, lets your arms slip around his neck without any protest.

“Whatever you want.” Kylo kisses your cheek, diverting his attention to the phone call once his driver picks up.

Though the holidays had you at one another’s throats like rabid vicious dogs most days, Kylo wouldn’t trade it for anything in the world. Because for all the bitching and bickering, there were moments like these. Moments in the dark where you both let yourselves have what it was that you wanted.

And who knew, maybe the new year would bring about a whole new set of opportunities and possibilities, you’d just have to wait and see. One thing was for sure though, Kylo thinks as he helps you off the table and you both search for some tissues or something to wipe up the mess you’ve made, it certainly was a December to remember.

#kylo ren x reader #kylo ren/reader #kylo ren/you #kylo ren smut #kylo ren fanfiction #adam driver fanfic #adcu #my writing #modern kylo ren #lawyer au #lawyer!kylo ren

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wreckofawriter · 5 years

Text

Best Not To Cry Over Spilled Milk

Pairing: James Potter x Sirius' twin!reader

Warnings: A shit ton of angst, a little swearing

Word Count: 3,779

Request: @rini-scallison: May I request something? If I may I would like to request something like not so perfect sister but instead it’s with Sirius as the brother (a twin if you may) and the reader is like the perfect daughter and Sirius hates her but she tries really hard for him to have a happy life and there’s a bunch of angst and stuff ! You can add a romance in there if you would like too ! Thank you!

A/n: Okay sooo I'm not sure if this is exscatly what the request was but it's how I interpreted it, I really like it at least, I hope you guys do to. I'm hoping to bang out my last few requests, I'm quarantined till April 12th sooo... (stay safe everyone, love you all <3)

Sirius liked to believe he was a pleasant person. At least for the most part, and considering his background, he thought he did pretty good. He may not have been an angel but he had good friends, he helped those around him and unless your name was Severus, he was usually kind. Usually. Unfortunatly there were two people in this world that could break his carefully crafted exterior in a matter of seconds. They both shared his name.

The first was his mother, someone who in all honesty he saw as less of a human and more of a grotesque creature from a child’s nightmare. In his mind, her black heels were replaced by sharp talons. Her long fingernails were claws of obsidian and her dark eyes had the ability to turn you to stone. She had spent her time in Sirius’ life diminishing him to nothing more than a clone of her terror as he tried to make himself anything but.

The second was a success story. The clone of his mother’s terror. His beloved twin, y/n Black or as many had taken to calling her recently; the Slytherin Queen. And boy was she. She followed every order dispatched to her, obeyed every demand, bowed before the monster that had raised her. She had kept on her blindfold her mother had placed on her the minute she had entered the world. Maybe it only took the twelve minutes which y/n had emerged before Sirius for her to fall under a spell which even the youngest black had started to break from.

Sirius was never sure what happened to you. You always sat with your back straight at the dinner table. You never complained about the corset which was always sinched too tight, you would just let your vision go dark from the lack of oxygen. And it completely infuriated him.

Sirius really wished he hadn’t cared when he had gotten the letter. He really wished he had thrown a party and done something stupid like set off fireworks in the common room. But he hadn’t. He had instead demolished an entire bottle of fire whiskey crying because, fuck it hurt to be tossed aside by the people who were supposed to love you most. The next morning he dragged you into an empty classroom hungover and still smelling of liquor and asked you what he fuck had happened.

You had told him you begged your mother not to, you told a sob story about a sad little argument in which you- the obvious victim -had fought for his place on the banner in your living room.

The truth had been very different, his mother had exposed the fact that it was indeed your idea to kick him from the family, that you were convinced he was a disgrace, nothing more than a bug to squash under your boot. He wished he could believe you not his monster. But he knew you. He knew you so goddamn well. You were his twin. His other half. He saw the way your eyes darted away from his own, you shifted on your feet, how you bit the inside of your cheek. You had lied. You had lied to him and he would never forgive you for it.

“And what is the M.O.M classification of the Phoenix?” Merrythought asked. Your hand shot in the air. “Ms. Black?”

“An XXXX professor, although it did not earn this rating from its aggression but only because so few wizards have been able to domesticate it.” You explained and Sirius rolled his eyes.

“Correct Ms. Black, five points to Slytherin.” The teacher praised, you beamed still sitting straight as a board.

Sirius let out a cough that sounded suspiciously like the words ‘Kiss ass’ earning a few giggles from the surrounding students.

You pretended you didn’t hear him, hand tightening around your quill.

James watched as your knuckles went white, How did your brother still bother you? He wondered.

Sirius leaned back in the chair next to him mumbling something unnecessarily rude. James fought the urge to roll his eyes. When class was dismissed Sirius made a point to pass you as you packed up.

“You’ll make an excellent death eater sis.” He taunted and you paused for a moment but refused to comment.

Sirius left the classroom James followed risking a glance over this shoulder to see you being joined by a blonde boy and the Lestrange sisters. Sirius caught him looking and sneered, “A bunch of future murders. Fuckin’ assholes.”

“You know you could give her a rest, you haven’t even spoken in like a year,” James suggested.

Sirius scoffed, “And who’s fault is that?”

James shrugged, knowing the awnser.

“You know she’s ghosting Reg too?” Sirius glowered, “He always looked up to her too, I have no clue why, but he did. And now she won’t even talk to him.”

Remus and Peter joined the pair as they made their way into the Grand Hall.

“Talking about y/n?” Remus inferred.

“Hard not to when she’s such a bitch.”

James cringed at his friend’s choice of words. “I’m hungry, let's get some food.” He spoke attempting to change the topic.

“Why else would be in here?” Remus laughed.

James cracked a smile opening his mouth to speak but was cut off.

“Oh shit.” Sirius cussed.

“What did you do?” Remus sighed, rolling his eyes.

“I didn’t do anything but can you get me food and meet me in the common room, I may or may not be avoiding Marleen,” Sirius spoke ducking behind James.

“Sure, just get out of here, I really don’t want to hear her voice right now.” Peter cringed at the memory of being yelled at by the sharp toned girl.

“I’ll get food, you guys ditch,” James suggested. The other three agreed to leave the hall as the fourth grabbed four plates filling each and flicking his wand causing them to float in the air surrounding him.

James then made his way from the hall. As he turned out of the door he ran straight into someone, stumbling backward a bit he straightened his gaze to see you, your group of what he supposed were friends sneered at him.

“You guys go on, I’ll catch up.” You spoke, voice monotone.

They silently agreed, leaving you with the curly-haired boy who now pushed his glasses nervously up his nose.

“Hey Potter, I need to talk to you.” James would never admit he was scared of you but he did feel his heart leap to his throat at your words.

“What’s up?” He asked hoping you didn’t catch as the sentence wavered slightly.

You bit your lip glancing down at your feet before looking up to meet his gaze. “I wanted to thank you.”

That is not what he expected you to ask.

“I can’t even begin to say how relieved I am that you took Sirius in. Please thank your parents for me as well.” You seemed almost nervous, “I actually have something for you.”

James could not believe that the words you were saying were actually coming out of your mouth. He had expected you to cuss at him, call him a blood traitor amongst other names and then follow your friends into the hall. But you were thanking him instead.

You rummaged in your bag before removing a red box about the size of a wide bookmark. You held it out to the boy.

James stared at you half expecting you to break out laughing and reveal the joke.

“Stop looking at me like that.” You mumbled shoving the gift at his chest.

“Sorry.” James murmured opening the box eyes widening. Inside was a watch, a damn nice one. It looked to be at least plated with gold, if not solid. Its inside was a scarlet red with three different faces, one of which instead of showing roman numerals around the edge showed the phases of the moon. The strap was a reddish leather, clasp gold as well.

“Here, watch this.” You spoke stepping closer and carefully removing the watch from its velvet cushion. You held it delicately, pressing an almost invisible button on the side. In a flash two delicate golden wings erupted from the sides of the device and James realized in fascination that the watch now appeared to look like a snitch, you paid no mind flipping it over to reveal a small square gap on the back. “It’s enchanted with an undetectable extension charm so you can put just about anything in it.” You explained clicking the small button again.

James watched in marvel as the wings fluttered closed closing the gap seamlessly. “This is amazing y/n,” He whispered looking up at you only to realize you were centimeters away. He could feel your breath fan over his cheeks. It was cold and minty.

“It’s nothing compared to what you’ve done for me.” You reasoned sliding the watch back into its case and stepping backward. “And before you say you can’t accept it remember that I have plenty of money.”

Those were going to be the next words out of his mouth.

“I have one more thing to ask you, James.” You seemed really nervous now, you hoisted the strap of your bag back up over your shoulder. “How’s Sirius? Is he okay?”

You had baffled him once again.

“I know I should be asking him that but ever since last year he would sooner light me on fire than have a civil conversation with me.” You sighed.

The Chaser stared at you, this is not how he thought your conversation would go.

“So is he okay?” You asked again, almost urgently.

“Yeah, he’s fine.” James assured you, “He’s a little moody but overall he’s good.”

“Have his panic attacks stopped?” You questioned.

James who had no clue he even got those nodded, “I think so.”

“Mental breakdowns?”

James ran his hands through his hair, “He gets them every once and awhile, Moony and I help him through though.”

You gave a weak smile and stepped forward wrapping your arms around his neck, placing your forehead on his chest. James froze, slowly letting his arms hold your waist, “I honestly can’t thank you enough. You’re a godsend Potter.” You mumbled. You stepped away a few seconds later crimson kissing your cheeks. “Don’t tell Siri we talked. He’ll be pissed.” And with that, you left.

James felt his heart hammer as he sucked in the air he didn’t realize he had stopped breathing. What just happened?

James had had a crush on you the second you locked eyes centuries ago on platform 9 and ¾. You were the main reason he had looked so long for a certain compartment. A compartment that contained a set of twins, one of which would become his best friend. You had always been very pretty, your strong attitude had aided in that conclusion as well. He thought you were going to be very good friends with him. That was until you were sorted into Slytherin and Sirius soon revealed his rivalry with you.

He had still harbored feelings for you, small ones he chose to ignore most of the time. He never told a soul, passing his feelings from girl to girl. He proved to be quite good at burying them. You also showed just how good you were at unearthing his secrets with a laugh, a wide smile or the save of a quaffle. The feeling of you in his arms rested in his mind for a long time. He dreamt of you, yearned to hold you again. You had smelt like caramel and cinnamon, you fit into his chest as a puzzle piece did to its neighbor. He really wished you hadn’t hugged him.

As your sixteenth birthday approached both twins appeared to be more and more on edge. James was dead set on throwing a massive party but Sirius didn’t seem into it. As the day loomed closer he got jumpy, almost paranoid; as if someone was going to lean out from behind him and throw a bag over his head before dragging him away.

James also began to notice your absences from classes. More and more often you were simply gone, not being anywhere for days before appearing out of nowhere. You always looked so pale when you got back from wherever you had gone, the circle under your eyes always looked darker. He had asked Sirius what was up but got nowhere, he would just lick his lips and say nothing was wrong. A blatant lie.

You disappeared four days before the 3rd and was gone the entire week. Sirius refused to go to classes that week as well, claiming to be sick, which was fair considering he looked white as a ghost most of the time.

When you finally returned it looked as if you had been kissed by a dementor. Your face was vacant of any color, your usually vibrant eyes looked pale, bags underneath them bruised brown.

Both James and Sirius simultaneously tried to convince themselves you just had a stomach bug, that your sunken cheeks were nothing to be concerned about. Both knew they were wrong.

Sirius found you easily. He knew you too well. You always snuck outside, even when you were younger you would always sneak to the park a few blocks away to escape your mother’s rage. Until you learned to play with fire rather than run from it.

He followed you to the greenhouse. You had always liked herbology.

You turned at the shuffle of feet to see your brother, he looked almost as terrible as you did.

“Did you do it?” He asked, his voice sounding so empty as muffled chirps of crickets flowed through the cold November air.

You refused to look up, You sat in the corner of the cold glass house, your knees pulled to your chest, eyes cast on your dress shoes.

“Did you really go through with it?” His voice cracked, he stumbled over his own feet.

You still didn’t answer. Tears had built so thickly in your eyes you couldn’t see. You blinked and they went cascading downwards, raindrops leaking off your chin.

“Answer me y/n!” Sirius cried through gritted teeth, tears of his own threatening to spill.

“We have to get Regulus out of that house.” You spoke so plainly it was hard to believe that the words had come from you. “Fuck Siri they have a new initiation ceremony. He can’t go through with that.”

“Shit y/n/n, what did you do?” His voice was a mix of disgust and despair.

“I don’t fucking know.” You answered honestly.

“Did you kill someone?” He hissed.

“I wish I did Siri, I really wish I did.”

Sirius dropped his shoulders a defeated sigh coming from his lips.

“We have to get him out soon Siri. He is so much more stubborn than you were too.” You whimpered. “I mean you practically disowned yourself, mom just needed a push with you.”

“Why did you give her that push?” Sirius gasped, “Why did you do that? I could have helped you.”

“I saved you, Sirius.” Your sentence broke in half, “I know you hate me for it but I saved you.”

Sirius wiped his eyes furiously, “How did you possibly save me y/n?” He seethed.

“What do you think mom would have done if you were still in that house four days ago?” You asked. You knew he already knew the answer.

“Why the fuck didn’t you save yourself?” Sirius hollered, “Why did you follow every rule she set? Every fucking order she gave you?”

“The Black family needed an heir.” You shrugged tongue darting out to collect a tear from the corner of your mouth. “I knew it had to be one of us, if not you or me then Reg.” you paused, “So I decided it would be me.”

“How? How could you possibly decide that?” Sirius sobbed now standing in front of you. You still didn’t look up.

“It was easier than you would think.” You chuckled darkly.

“It’s not fair y/n.” He stated, “We can still help you. Dumbledore will help, you can stay with James and me. Please y/n.”

“It’s too late and you know it.” You spoke, “Best not to cry over spilled milk.”

“But your life isn’t spilled milk!” Sirius shouted.

“Might as well be.” You shrugged finally meeting your brother’s eyes. They matched your own, puffy and red.

“How can you say that?” The boy spat, “It’s your fucking life!”

“Not anymore.” You sighed. “Look, Siri, in all honesty, I don’t give two fucks about my life right now, we have less than 13 months to find a way to get Regulus the fuck out of that house and then boom he turns 16 and none of this shit matters anymore. So stop worrying about me and start realizing we can still save him.”

Sirius had never felt so incredibly selfish before. You had given away your life for him and for Regulus. What had he given away? He had gotten the life he wanted while you would suffer for the rest of yours. And all you said was ‘It’s best not to cry over spilled milk.’ He suddenly remembered every jibe and comment he had said to you. You had done nothing but bite your tongue as he taunted the nightmare you lived him so he could bask in a daydream.

“I need you to start hanging out with him.” You mumbled, voice raw, “I have been avoiding him, hopefully, it will help. I’m gonna start making up lies about how his grades are slipping and he’s hanging out with mudbloods, maybe dating one.” You sighed, “Reg still wants to impress mom, I need you to get it into his mind how twisted she is. Make him hate her. Make him hate me too, use me as an example.” You paused, “Can you do that Siri?”

Sirius didn’t speak for a long time. You didn’t pressure him to. You stared straight ahead tears still leaking from your eyes.

“Yeah, I can do that.” Sirius finally spoke. He sounded half-dead, deflated. He sounded like you.

“Good.” You didn’t waste a second. You got to your feet wiping your tears and then you walked away.

James sprinted down the halls. He has his eyes peeled to the two names in the greenhouse. He made it free of the castle and saw a figure making their way towards him. He glanced down at the map and saw that it was you.

As he neared you he was finally able to drink in your appearance. Your eyes were bloodshot, you were attempting to dry never-ending teardrops, dragging your forearm repeatedly over your face. When you looked up at him his heart broke. Your bottom lip was shaking eyes so glassy it must have stung.

You dove into his chest, wrapping your arms around him and you began to cry. Your body jumped with sobs as James pulled you closer to him.

He forgot about everything but you as you nuzzled closer to him. He forgot about Sirius, about the tears soaking through his shirt and the dew that had dampened his robes. He only cared about you. You and the fact that you still smelt like caramel and cinnamon, you and your overly soft hair, you and your cold hands wrapped around him.

James nestled into your hair inhaling its intoxicating scent. He then hooked his hands under your arms and lifted you so your hands were wrapped around his neck. You understood and wrapped your legs around his waist your head becoming buried into his neck. He placed one hand under each of your thighs and began to carry you inside. As you made your way through the castle your tears began to slow, sobs turning to whimpers.

James felt his face bloom with deep red roses. His heart was thumping far too quickly. When he reached his destination he only had to pace twice before the door showed its self. The inside of the room was relatively the same as it always was except for the large brick fireplace and massive couch filled with large pillows.

The Chaser attempted to set you down on the couch but your firm grip on his neck and the legs wrapped around him forced him to follow downwards. A fresh blush coated his cheeks. You burrowed back into his embrace and it was quiet for a long time. The only noise coming from the crack of the fireplace and the sound of a faint wind blowing outside.

“Y/n what happened?” James finally asked and you pulled a bit away from him so you could look him in his eyes.

He looked so handsome, his deep chocolate brown eyes were wide with worry, only more magnified behind his round glasses. His cheeks were painted with poppies, his lips plush, and pink. His unruly thickly curled hair framed his face perfectly, a small strand falling between his eyes.

“You know I always had a thing for you.” You smiled weakly, “From the moment I saw you on the platform I thought you were the cutest thing I had ever laid eyes on.”

James wasn’t quite sure how to respond, he assumed he was dreaming.

“I never wanted to tell you, James, I never thought I would. But I need to.”

The room fell quiet again.

“Can I kiss you y/n?” James finally asked his heart near shattering.

You nodded slowly and he let his eyes flutter shut, yours doing the same as your lips gently met. The kiss was so fragile you were afraid it may break. He tasted like pumpkin juice, his tongue slipping into your mouth seconds before you pulled away.

“Y/n let me help you.” James pleaded as you swung your feet off of the couch, sitting upright as you mumbled ‘I shouldn’t have done that.’ quietly to yourself.

“Just.. take care of Siri for me.” You could feel tears beginning to climb back upwards.

James sat up beside you, “Y/n please.” He begged.

“It’s okay James.” You assured him with a watery smile. “You’ll get over it.”

“But y/n-”

You shushed him placing your pointer finger on his lips. He blinked a small tear falling down his flushed cheek. You wiped it away with your thumb.

“You’ll be okay James.” You paused standing swiftly, “Best not to cry over spilled milk.” You murmured over your shoulder as you left the room.

Taglist:

@accio-rogers

@roslea

@k3nz-doodl3

@theseuscmander

@sleepingalaska

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2K notes · View notes

cestlestial-beings · 4 years

Text

Desire

Summary: Sam finds a prostitute that can shapeshift to take Dean's form. Loosely based on @wincestdailyheadcanons‘s Headcanon #32 Part of my Unrequited Wincest series

Fandom: Supernatural Characters: Sam Winchester, Original Shapeshifter Character, Dean Winchester Pairing: Sam Winchester/Dean Winchester Word Count: 2000 AO3: Link

Excerpt:

Sam rests a hand on Dean’s chest, curls his hand into a fist around the soft fabric of Dean’s shirt, searches Dean’s eyes. Not Dean’s eyes, he thinks but he pushes away the thought. They’re enough like Dean’s eyes. The same emerald green. The same depth. The same softness, as they focus on Sam. He takes a deep breath to lose himself to this again, and finally his head’s cleared enough to think this is real, for a moment.

It’s just Dean in front of him now, familiar but still so beautiful that he takes Sam’s breath away.

Full Fic:

It had taken a while to find this person. He’d heard a rumor, and it took a lot of asking around to get the details he needed. And it had taken longer to find a hunt close enough for Sam to be able to make an excuse about going to see a girl so he could meet up with them late at night, without raising Dean’s suspicion.

Sam meets her at a nice hotel with a king-size bed and slightly dimmed, romantic lighting—her choice.

She’s wearing a black dress and knee-high black boots, her curly hair loose around her shoulders. Classy, yet suggestive. The two of them sit on the room’s crisp, white couch to work out terms.

“So,” she says after she finishes counting the cash he gave her. “Who will it be?”

Sam pulls a photo out of his wallet. Dean, grinning at the camera, his green eyes sparkling. And something of Dean’s, too, like she’d asked for over the phone—a small amulet Sam had dug out from Dean’s bag. Sam passes them to the woman.

“Hm. And how do you want me to play it? Sweet and romantic? Rough? Kinky?”

Sam swallows. This is so fucked up. Why is he doing this? He considers standing up and walking out, right now, but he knows he’ll regret it if he does. This is a rare opportunity. “Romantic, I guess,” he finally says. “But we can play it by ear.”

“Sure,” she says. She stands up and grabs the small suitcase she’d brought along. “I’ll be just a moment.” She disappears into the bathroom and he hears the shower turn on.

Sam bounces his leg while he waits, feeling nervous. His desperation is pathetic, but this past year of working with Dean… Sam’s not sure he can take it much longer. He had to do something.

Finally the shower shuts off. A minute later the bathroom door opens, and Dean steps out. Black t-shirt, jeans, bare feet. His hair is slightly damp and untextured from his shower. Dean smiles at him, a soft, warm smile that makes Sam’s breath catch. “Hey, little brother.”

“Hey,” Sam says softly, standing up. He approaches Dean. He doesn’t have to hold back this time, he thinks, he can do what he wants to—needs to—do.

He’d thought about a moment like this a thousand times. What would he say, when he confessed to Dean? What would he do? How would Dean react?

He rests a hand on Dean’s chest, curls his hand into a fist around the soft fabric of Dean’s shirt, searches Dean’s eyes. Not Dean’s eyes, he thinks but he pushes away the thought. They’re enough like Dean’s eyes. The same emerald green. The same depth. The same softness, as they focus on Sam. He takes a deep breath to lose himself to this again, and finally his head’s cleared enough to think this is real, for a moment.

It’s just Dean in front of him now, familiar but still so beautiful that he takes Sam’s breath away.

“Dean…” He feels tears prickle at the back of his eyes as he finally, finally says what he’s been holding back for so long. “I’m in love with you. So, so in love with you. God. I want you so much.”

The corner of Dean’s mouth turns up. “Come on, man. Don’t get all sappy on me.”

Sam pulls him in and kisses him, the way he’s wanted to for years, desperate and hungry and hard. Dean matches the intensity, sliding his tongue against Sam’s lips, pushing into Sam’s mouth, claiming him. His lips are soft against Sam’s, his taste minty, and Sam’s surprised that up close he even smells like Dean. Let that go, Sam tells himself. He needs to get caught up in this, or it won’t be worth it.

Dean unbuttons Sam’s flannel while they kiss, pushes it off his shoulders.

Dean pulls away, his lips still close to Sam’s. “Sammy. Bed. Now.”

Sam laughs softly. “Sure.” Bossy big brother taking the lead. It’s reassuring.

Sam climbs onto the bed and lies back. Dean crawls over him, resting his hands on either side of Sam’s head and bending down to kiss Sam again.

Dean pulls away and sits back for a moment.“Come on,” he murmurs. “I want to see you.”

Sam pulls off his t-shirt, climbs out of his pants and boxers, tosses all of it over the side of the bed. Dean looks him over. “Beautiful,” he whispers, running a hand down Sam’s chest. “I’ve been missing out, huh?” he says, cracking a smile, and Sam’s heart flutters.

“You have me now,” Sam says.

“Yeah, I do,” Dean says.

“I want to see you too,” Sam says, but he takes the lead this time, pulling off Dean’s shirt, unbuttoning Dean’s pants. Dean finishes undressing in front of Sam and, as Sam looks at him, it’s suddenly hard to breath. Does every part of this Dean look like the real deal? No—don’t think about that. This isn’t like Dean, this is Dean.

Dean bends down, slides a tongue up Sam’s abdomen, up to his nipple. He swirls his tongue around it and Sam gasps. Dean’s hand finds Sam’s dick. He jerks it slowly, his grip soft and just light enough that Sam shivers.

“You like that?” Dean says, his voice low.

“Yes,” Sam says.

Dean runs his tongue up a little further, sucks on Sam’s skin by his collarbone. Dean strokes a thumb around the tip, and Sam stifles a moan. “It’s okay, baby brother,” Dean says. “You can let it out.”

His hand runs down Sam’s cock, and this time Sam lets himself moan “Dean” as his hands grasp helplessly at Dean’s back while Dean pleasures him, kisses him, marks him.

Dean pauses to look at Sam through his eyelashes.

“Do you want to be inside me, Sammy?” Dean asks, and then bites his lip, already pink and tender from the kissing.

Sam pauses. He’s thought about this, the first time, for so, so long and he knows exactly what he wants. But he’s always wondered what Dean would prefer, if this situation ever happened. How is the real Dean in bed? Would he want to top or bottom? Would he act like the shifter is now?

Don’t think about that, Sam tells himself, and out loud he whispers, “Yes.”

Dean smiles and reaches over to a small bag on the nightstand, pulls out a condom and some lube. He leans back to straddle Sam’s legs and keeps his eyes fixed on Sam’s while he opens the condom, unrolls it down over Sam’s length.

Sam licks his lips. He doesn’t know if he’s ever been this turned on before. All the times he’s fantasized, actualized in front of him now. The long lashes over Dean’s fiery eyes, filled with lust. His smooth chest, his soft stomach. His impish grin as he squirts some lube into his hand, rubs it onto Sam’s dick.

Sam can’t stand it anymore. He rolls them both over so Dean is underneath him, looking up at him.

Dean raises his eyebrows. “Control freak.”

“You like it,” Sam says, and he’s kissing Dean again before Dean can dispute it. He slips one finger into Dean, two, to open him up.

Dean breaks away for a moment. “Quit teasing,” he murmurs. “Come on. Fuck me.”

“You want me that bad, huh?”

“Always have,” Dean says, and Sam feels a thrill go through him before he remembers but he doesn’t.

“Something wrong, Sammy?” Dean asks, a hand coming up to stroke Sam’s cheek.

“Huh? Oh. No, sorry. I was just… Thinking.”

“Well, don’t,” Dean says. He smiles softly at Sam. “Relax, okay? Let it go. Whatever you’re thinking about.”

“Okay,” Sam says, and he’s only able to offer up a wavering smile. He pulls back just enough to line himself up with Dean’s hole. Dean tilts his hips to make it easier for Sam, and Sam slides in.

Dean lets out a long exhale, his fingers digging into the back of Sam’s thighs, pulling him closer. Dean is warm and tight and as Sam starts to rock into Dean, he looks down at his brother’s face. Dean’s eyes are squeezed shut, his head pressed back into the pillow, his mouth wet and open as he breathes hard.

Sam feels an unexpected pang of jealousy. Dozens of girls got to see Dean like this, hot and worked up and turned on and so, so beautiful, and Sam never had, never would, see Dean—the real Dean—like that, even though Sam had been with Dean his entire life and those girls had only been in it for a night.

Sam only notices that he’s stopped moving completely when he feels Dean run a hand down his cheek. “Hey. Be here,” he says. “Be with me.” His voice is soft, and Sam closes his eyes at the words, at the feel of Dean’s warm fingers on his face, and Dean’s words work, a little bit. Sam feels like he’s a little bit outside of himself while he starts to move against Dean again, like this is a little unreal, but he manages to clear his mind enough to lose himself in the pleasure, the bliss of having Dean beneath him, kissing him, listening to him moan out Sam’s name when he comes. Hearing his name on Dean’s lips pushes Sam over the edge too, and he comes a second later.

Sam pulls out and lies down next to Dean, the only sound in the room coming from both of them breathing hard.

Sam rolls onto his side to look at Dean. Coming down from his orgasm-high, it feels even more clear that this Dean isn’t Dean, that this sex didn’t mean anything, that in a few hours, things would go back to how they were—Sam hiding his feelings from Dean, because he wants something from Dean that Dean could never give.

“Can I stay with you tonight?” Sam asks softly. It still doesn’t feel right, but spending the night wrapped in the arms of not-Dean sounds so much more appealing than spending the night in the same room as but still distant from the real Dean, sleeplessly staring at the ceiling and feeling guilty and alone.

“Yeah, baby,” Dean says. He gives Sam a light kiss. “Me and the room are yours until morning. We can go again, if you want.” The words of an escort to a john, not from a man to his lover.

Still, Sam says, “Yeah, I’d like that.”

———

Sam lets himself back into the motel room the next morning. He’s still in yesterday’s clothes, but he’s cleaned up and looking like his normal self. He wishes he felt like his normal self, too, not filled with this guilt and shame from spending half the night and a good part of the morning fucking a shifter that looked like his brother.

Dean is up and showered and dressed and drinking coffee.

“Ha, I know that look. The walk of shame,” Dean says to Sam. “How was she?”

“Don’t be gross, Dean,” Sam says, as he walks to his bag to get a fresh change of clothes, but the real disgust he’s feeling is with himself. He can’t even bring himself to look at Dean—this Dean, the real Dean.

“I’m just glad you’re getting yourself out there again,” Dean says. “It’s been a long time for you, man. I worry about you sometimes.”

“Yeah,” Sam says, turning away to hide the look on his face. If Dean knew why it had been so long, he’d have something else to say. “Yeah, I worry about me sometimes, too.”

#wincest #fic #wincest fic #unrequited wincest #my writing #top!sam #pining!sam #guilty!sam

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fruitquake · 4 years

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The Black Lake

honestly this kinda sucks but i’m just happy to actually have written something. school and writers block have been making it hard to be productive lately. so uh.. enjoy? and pls be kind even if it’s not the best thing i’ve written.

“This seems like a bad idea.”

Remus waited for Sirius to answer, but all he got was a light chuckle. “Maybe,” Sirius said, turning towards him. In the darkness, Remus couldn’t see Sirius’ expression very well, but he could easily picture the his mischievous smile. “But when has anything fun not come out of a bad idea?”

“What about that time you and Prongs tried to fly on your broomsticks standing up?” Remus offered. “You both ended up in the hospital wing with several broken bones.”

Sirius laughed. “Are you kidding? That was still fun! Before we fell, of course,” he added.

Remus rolled his eyes. A gust of wind blew between them, and Remus wished he’d brought more than one sweater. “Besides,” he said. “It’s way too cold to swim right now. We’re gonna freeze to death.”

“It’s summer!” Sirius argued.

“Well, yeah, but it’s also the middle of the fucking night.” Remus glared at Sirius, annoyed that he couldn’t see it.

They had reached the lake, and Sirius turned towards Remus again. This time, his eyes a bit more used to the dark, he could almost make out Sirius’ face.

“You don’t have to come with me,” Sirius said, taking a step towards Remus, so their faces were close; so close he could almost feel Sirius’ breath. “If you’re too scared, just go back.”

“Ha!” Remus bent forwards until there faces were only an inch or so apart. Sirius’ breath smelled nice, like mint and something else, but he tried not to think about that. “Scared?” he said. “I’m not scared.”

Sirius’ eyes had widened in surprise at how close Remus had gotten, but his expression was once again softening into a mischievous smirk. There was a moment of silence between them, like they were both waiting to see who would move first, then suddenly, Sirius took a step back, breaking the tension that had formed between them.

“Well, in that case,” he said. “Last man in the lake is a rotten potato!”

Before Remus could react, Sirius had already taken off his shirt, and was working on unbuttoning his pants.

“Oi, not fair!” Remus yelled. “I’m wearing more clothes than you!”

“Not my problem!” Sirius grinned.

Remus hurried to take off his sweater, then spent a long time fumbling with the buttons of his shirt. Meanwhile, Sirius was nearly undressed already. “Fuck,” Remus muttered, trying his best to speed up the process, but when he finally took of his shirt and threw it on the ground, Sirius was already undressed, ready to jump in the lake.

He tried not to look at Sirius, his almost naked body illuminated by the little light offered by the moon. Sure, he’d seen Sirius like this before, it was impossible to avoid when you shared a dorm with him, but somehow it felt different when it was just the two of them…

Sirius jumped in the dark water with a loud splash. It took a moment for him to resurface, but when he did, he was grinning up at Remus while treading water. “Ha!” he said. “Looks like you’re the rotten potato, Lupin.”

For some reason, the way Sirius said his name made blood rush to Remus’ cheeks, and he thanked the darkness for hiding it. “I let you win on purpose,” he said, raising his voice to be sure Sirius could hear him. “I know how fragile your ego is. Wouldn’t want to hurt it.”

Sirius laughed. “How thoughtful.”

Finally, Remus had undressed, and was standing in nothing but his underwear. Before, he had been too occupied by the race against Sirius to be self conscious, but now, he wanted, more than anything else, to cover himself somehow. His body, an awkward kind of tall, too skinny, and covered in ragged scars, was not exactly something worth showing off. James and Sirius might’ve been comfortable walking around half-naked in their dorm, but Remus had always been sure to change in the bathroom, or behind his bed where they wouldn’t see him. Swimming around the Black Lake in nothing but his underwear was a kind of exposure he didn’t feel ready for, especially in front of Sirius.

“Oi, are you coming?” Sirius yelled, drawing Remus out of his sticky web of thoughts.

Remus took a deep breath, bracing himself for the cold water. His bed, warm and safe, was calling for him, but he shook that thought away. Even if he didn’t want to do this, he couldn’t just leave Sirius alone in the water.

“Yeah, I’m coming!”

While Sirius’ jump had been clumsy, splashing water everywhere, Remus was a trained swimmer and, rather graciously, he dived head-first into the water.

The cold sent a shock through his body, which he ignored, letting himself sink deeper into the pitch-black water for a moment, before resurfacing.

He could see Sirius’ silhouette a few meters away from him, but it was impossible to make out his expression.

“Nice dive,” Sirius said, swimming closer. “Where’d you learn to do that?”

Remus was a bit out of breath from the dive, and from treading water, but he explained anyway: “My parents used to take me to the beach each year,” he said, a smile gracing his flushed face. “For years, i liked to just splash around in the shallow end, but when I was about 8 or so, my dad insisted I learned to swim properly.”

He’d been in his own world for a minute, relishing in the memory of afternoons spent at the beach, and was startled when he looked up to find Sirius’ face mere inches from his own.

“What are you doing?” he whispered, probably not loud enough for Sirius to hear over the sound of the waves.

“Merlin, you’re beautiful.”

Remus wasn’t sure he’d heard correctly. It could’ve been the waves warping Sirius’ words. Still, he found himself blushing.

“What?”

“I think I’m about to do something stupid,” Sirius said, looking into his eyes.

This time, Remus heard him clearly and for a moment, the water and air around them seemed to fade away, leaving only the two of them, eyes locked, faces flushed.

“Not if I do it first,” he answered, pushing himself forward in the water until their lips met.

Kissing and staying afloat were hard to do at the same time, and after trying for a moment, they both gave up and swam to a nearby rock. Before Remus could push himself up, Sirius had him pinned against it, the smooth, slippery surface feeling strange against his bare back.

“This is okay, right?” Sirius asked.

Remus nodded eagerly, wrapping his hands around Sirius, drawing him closer. His skin was hot, a strange contrast to the icy water. Remus knew they would have to get up soon, if they didn’t want to freeze to death, but for the moment, Sirius’ lips felt warm and soft against his own.

They carried on like that for awhile, sometimes slipping underwater for a moment before resurfacing, and continuing like nothing had happened.

But despite Sirius’ warm body pressed against his own, Remus couldn’t stop the cold from seeping into his bones.

“I t-think we should get back to s-shore now,” he said, his teeth chattering.

Sirius looked disappointed, but swam backwards a bit. The small bit of warmth that had been between them left with him, leaving Remus feeling even colder.

As they swam back to shore together, everything that had just happened finally started registering in Remus’s mind. He had kissed Sirius. And then Sirius had kissed him back. He could still taste Sirius’ minty breath, or maybe that was something he imagined.

Sirius pulled himself up, then helped Remus. They fell back on the damp grass, breathless, exhausted, but both laughing. Remus felt Sirius’ hand graze his own, and his heart skipped a beat. He fumbled blindly in the dark until he found Sirius’ hand, then held onto it.

Sirius sat up. “Bloody hell, you’re cold.” he said, concern in his voice.

Remus sat up as well. He felt cold. Now that Sirius had mentioned it, he could feel his whole body shaking.

Quickly, Sirius leapt to his feet, snatching Remus’ sweater and his own jacket, before walking back to Remus. “Here,” he said, handing him the sweater.

Remus smiled gratefully as he put it on. Sirius bent down next to him, wrapping the jacket around him.

“Aren’t you cold?” Remus asked quietly, looking up at Sirius, who shook his head.

“Nah,” he said, sitting down next to Remus again.

Remus thought he was going to say something more, but he was quiet, looking out over the lake, until:

“We should talk about what happened, shouldn’t we?”

Remus’s shoulders tensed. He was quiet for a moment too long, and Sirius looked at him. He could almost make out the anxious look on his face.

“Yeah, uh, we probably should,” Remus muttered, looking out over the lake. The water was pitch black, except for where the moon was reflected.

Sirius gently touched his hand, no doubt to grab his attention.

“I want to do it again,” he said.

“What, kiss me?” Remus didn’t dare hope that was what he meant.

Sirius nodded, and Remus felt his heartbeat quicken, almost like it did when they were kissing.

“Then do it,” he whispered.

He waited for a moment, but Sirius didn’t move. “I don’t just mean now,” he said. “I… I want to… When tonight ends, I don’t want us to go back to just being friends.”

A knot formed in Remus’ stomach. “Sirius,” he mumbled. “We can’t…”

Sirius nodded, looking away. “I know,” he said. “It’s different for us. Different than it would be if we were a girl and a boy. But-” He looked back at Remus, eyes wide. “No one needs to know, Remus.”

Remus raised an eyebrow. “And you’d be okay hiding something that big from James and Peter?” he asked.

Sirius exhaled sharply. Clearly, he hadn’t thought about that. “I don’t know, Re,” he said. “All I know is, I really liked kissing you, and I think… I think after knowing the feeling of your lips against mine… I can’t go back to how things were before.”

Remus knew how he felt, he really did. “Just kiss me now,” he said. “We can worry about the future later.”

And oh boy, did Sirius kiss him.

#im so sorry about this mess aaa #remus lupin #sirius black #wolfstar #wolfstar fanfic #wolfstar fanfiction #marauders era #marauders #marauders fanfic #fanfic #fanfiction

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blue-slush-writing · 3 years

Text

𝐁𝐞𝐚𝐮𝐭𝐢𝐟𝐮𝐥 𝐂𝐡𝐞𝐫𝐫𝐲 𝐁𝐥𝐨𝐬𝐬𝐦𝐬

𝐂𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐭𝐞𝐫 1

𝐖𝐨𝐫𝐝 ��𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭: 5.2k

𝐒𝐡𝐢𝐩: 𝐁𝐚𝐤𝐮𝐠𝐨𝐮 𝐱 𝐈𝐳𝐮𝐤𝐮

𝐏𝐨𝐯: Izuku has finally been able to get out of an abusive relationship with Todoroki but can't seem to full escape, especially when all of their friends are trying to force them back together

Katsuki thought his life was perfect, but as soon as his daughter was unexpectedly born his girlfriend left, leaving him to be a father on his own. He's trying to make it through college while taking care of his 3 year old.

𝐒𝐭𝐚𝐭𝐮𝐬: 𝐨𝐧𝐠𝐨𝐢𝐧𝐠

Chapter 2

Izuku could roughly hear his alarm going off next to his bed and he could feel the sun's light shining in through his window. The bright rays were piercing through his tightly shut eyes, and he groaned, squinting. It was a Tuesday morning and he had class in about an hour, but despite the continuous beeping, he only rolled over, prepared to go back to sleep and skip class. His comforter was practically begging him to just stay in today. Along with his awful headache, it seemed like reason enough to ditch for one day. Part of him wanted an aspirin, but sleep felt more important. He shifted uncomfortably as his bare skin rubbed against the sheets. Somewhere in his mind he was vaguely aware he was naked, but the situation didn’t quite click into place until he felt an extra pair of arms wrap around his from behind. The warmth of another person pressed up against his back, and he rolled over, coming face to face with a smiling duel haired man. his eyes opened in surprise, and he began to speak, only to find the words caught in his throat.

“Morning sunshine.” The boy muttered, trying to lean in for a kiss, but was instead met with Izuku’s hand pressed tightly between their lips. Even this early in the morning Shoto still looked stunning, but that wasn’t quite what was on his mind.

“Did we… again?” When he had invited Shoto over, he had sworn to himself wouldn’t get high enough to sleep with him, but it seemed his self control was more of a figment of his imagination. It hadn’t been too long since the two of them broke up, but it felt way too soon to be considering getting back with his Ex.

In response to his question Shoto only laughed. “You really can’t hold your liquor Izu.”

“We were drinking?!” The man was a known lightweight, which was why he rarely drank, especially in combination with weed. For the life of him he couldn’t piece together what happened last night, but here he was, for the second time that month, laying naked in bed with a guy he had sworn not to see again. Maybe he had slipped something into his drink. Izuku tried to move out of Shoto’s arms and sit up, but was immediately pulled back down into a tight hug.

“Come on. Don’t be like that. You were so nice to me last night” He planted small kisses along his collar bone.

“I was nice because you got me drinking until I forgot what a dick you are.” He snarled, pushing him off. Izuku rolled out of bed, dragging one of the blankets with his as a robe. Their clothes were scattered across the room, and no matter where he looked he couldn’t seem to find his boxers.

“They’re s on the couch.” Shoto turned over on the bed, Obviously not planning on leaving his apartment anytime soon. What worried Izuku more is that he was probably going to have to wash the entire living room. With his luck they probably hadn’t gone for only one round. He grabbed a pair of booty shorts out of his dresser and pulled them on, throwing a thin white T over top. It was way too early for this shit. His head was pounding and everything felt very bright and harsh. Just how much did he drink? He was trying to act nonchalant, but he had a really bad feeling in his gut. Even if he hadn’t been in his right mind, he felt like he was leading Shoto on. Izuku knew he didn’t plan on getting back together with him, so doing this made him feel dirty. He never used to do one night stands, but the more time he spent around friends, the more time he woke up in situations like this. his friends were his Ex’s friends which meant they were all trying to push the two of them back together. Even now, he was sure that they had all purposefully ditched the party last night just to give them some time together. Those bastards.

Still feeling incredibly tired, he walked drearily into the kitchen, bumping into the counter on his way to the coffee pot. With a hangover like this he was going to start with a minimum of three mugs and an aspirin. He popped the last instant brew cup into its place and added water before pressing start. He could have just stood there and watched, but he felt the overwhelming need to brush his teeth, so he made his way down the hall to the bathroom, and was met with a very unseemly sight. He looked like a total wreck. His makeup from the day before streaked down his face and his green dyed hair was an absolute mess. He looked like he had just walked out of hell.

He splashed some water onto his hands and slowly massaged a puff of soap into his dry face. It stung his eyes, but he rubbed his skin clean till he was satisfied, and rinsed, wetting his hair in the process. He was in desperate need of a shower anyway , but that would have to wait until after he got an explanation. He felt like his heart was racing faster than it should, and he could see his hands shaking as he opened the cap to the tooth paste. Maybe it was the drugs still working their way out of his system, but he got the feeling he was afraid of the things he might have said the night before. The promises he might have made. Hell, with the way he acted when he was drunk he might walk out this just to be told they were already back together. Part of him longed for that. Wanted to be held again and shown affection. Wanted to taste Shoto on his lips when they-

But the other half of him knew that was impossible. He had already had his heart broken once, and he didn’t know if he had it in his to go through that again. Shoto was the one who had got him started on pot in the first place when they were back in high school. Izuku was stressed and anxious, and had been easily convinced it was just a way to “chill out”. His relationship quickly went from best friend, to dealer and customer, and when he didn’t have the money for weed, he would pay with... favors. This continued into college, but soon he was able to make other friends who hooked him up and he became a resident stoner. Weekends, parties, and now apparently Monday nights, he would get togethers to get lit. Everyone seemed to like him and he got invited out a lot. He was just a typical college kid with some extra problems.

Somewhere along the way his favors for Shoto got more and more serious, until he just asked him out. Izuku had probably mistaken what they had for love and immediately said yes. They would fight, make up, have sex, and pretend like none of it happened. Maybe he could have realized earlier that something was off, but the blonde just had a way of doing things that always brought him back. Like after a long day of work he would sneak the two of them onto their apartment buildings roof, and they would spend the night in each other's arms, just watching the stars and talking about nothing. When they did finally break up it was because Shoto had cheated. Behind Izuku’s back there had been a girl named Momo who seemed to be nothing more than eye candy, but had taken up his time nonetheless. When he found out what was going on he had been devastated. After a long fight that lasted days of on and off screaming, they decided it would be best to just part ways. To Izuku it had been the end, but Shoto seemed to think they were just on some kind of break.

Swishing water around in his mouth, the greenette spit out the last of the minty paste and left from the bathroom. He could hear his Ex getting dressed in the bedroom as well as the beep of the coffee machine, signalling that the pot was done brewing.

Once he had poured himself a mug, he couldn’t be bothered to add creamer and just decided to drink it black. he didn’t have the patience to search all around his kitchen for whatever ridiculous spot his friends had left his milk and sweeteners. He had only just taken a sip of his steaming drink when Shoto walked in wearing one of Izuku’s hoodies, and prosmuidly nothing underneath. He slowly tried to approach him, but every step forward warranted two steps back.

“Are you serious Izuku? We’re not five. You can’t just back away from your problems.” He moved closer. “We still have something. We always did. I already apologized didn’t I?” His voice almost sounded sincere, but there was a layer of malice dripping behind every word. This was one of his tactics. Say sweet words laced with just enough poison to scare his into submission. But he had grown too much since their breakup to fall prey to his lies once again. He never wanted to go back to being Shoto’s plaything.

“You cheated on me with some bitch you met on tinder. You lost me the day you started sleeping around behind my back.” He knew he must have a dark glare on his face, and he hoped it got his point across. He wanted him out immediately. “I’ll show you to the door .” He tried his best to sound warm, but it was clear that he was about ready to lose it. He wasn't sure why he was so angry, but a swarm of memories was clouding his mind and he felt as though he was on the verge of tears. If Shoto stayed any longer he might collapse and give in again.

“Can I at least take a shower before I leave?” It was so clear this was not a question but a demand, but Izuku was not having it. With no words left to say, he simply grabbed a jacket from the front closet, shoved it at Shoto and pushed him out the front door. He honestly couldn’t care if it was winter, and that he was wearing barely anything, but his new house was close enough for him to not have to worry. And Even if it wasn’t, why should he care? The man was no longer his problem.

Once he was alone in his apartment he immediately collapsed down onto his bed, wondering why he had let this happen to himself. His first class started in close to 30 minutes, but he definitely did not feel like going. He would write his professor an email saying he got sick and hope that he didn’t think his getting sick for the 13th time that semester was strange. He probably hated him, but it was just a general language class. He had dropped English in high school and now had to retake it at 9:30 in the morning every Tuesday and Thursday.

Despite having taken a bath the night before, Izuku felt filthy. His skin was crawling and he wished he could run away any memories that might resurface the night before. Before he tried to figure out anything for the day a shower was in order. He once again pulled himself from bed and picked up his phone from the nightstand. He had been in such a daze last night that he hadn’t even plugged his phone in and it was now at a dwindling 13%. he connected it to his charger, not even bothering to look at his string of notifications. Who ever needed his could wait until after he was clean.

He had just put his clothes on, but easily dropped them to the floor and carefully made his way to the shower. There were red solo cups littered around his living room, and the whole place wreaked of drugs and sex. This is why he never let people party at his house. He was surprised to not find puke in the bathroom, but at least that would be one less thing for him to clean up. He clicked the water on and stepped into its spray, not waiting for it to warm up. It felt so good to have the cold droplets covering his back and dripping through his hair.

As the water heated up he felt like his problems melted away. Thoughts of past love, lust and affection, the after taste of drugs. They slipped down the drain with all of the sweat from the night before. When his and Shoto had broken up he had replaced all of his soaps so that the house would stop smelling like him. So he would stop smelling like him. Now all of his senses were filled with the smell of white chocolate and strawberries. It was the same body wash that he had used in middle school before all of his problems had come barreling head first into his life. It reminded him of his mother, Inko. The soap had originally been hers, But Izuku had stolen it and didn’t change the scent he used for years. He had only switched it in highschool when his friends told him that he should switch to a brand that was better for the environment.

As he stood in the shower, he could feel his legs lightly quivering and he had to steady himself against the shower bar. It hadn’t been immediate, but the effects of an eventful night were finally hitting him. He relentlessly scrubbed hisself, wishing he could magically erase himself from existence. The worst part of all of this was he already didn’t want to be sober anymore. He had made a catastrophic mistake under the influence, but he knew he could forget if he just let himself go a little. Being addicted to something was incredibly annoying. As long as he could guarantee Shoto wouldn’t be there, he would probably call up his friends and ask them to come over later that night.

When he washed his hair, streaks of green hair dye bled down his arms and torso, drizzling down the drain like a sad stream of sludge. The bright color was fading and it was close to time to redye it. Those were a multitude of colors he could go for, but he always found himself dying it green to match his eyes. At the very least he was on brand.

With the last bits of soap leaving his body, he cut off the water and stepped out of the shower. Water dripped off of his onto the floor mat and he rang his hair out with a towel, not letting the moisture cling to his roots. The entire room was filled with steam and he couldn’t see himself in the mirror, but it was safe to say he felt vastly better. Whatever had happened was in the past and all he could do now was move on with his day. Maybe he could call up his friend Uraraka and they could watch movies instead of doing their work on campus. She was kind of an idiot, but She always managed to make him feel better.

Izuku wrapped the towel around himself and opened the bathroom door, letting out a ploom of smoke. The rest of his apartment was cold and he instantly regretted leaving the warm confines of the shower. He quickly ran to his bedroom and found a comfortable sweater and a pair of sweatpants. The two clothing items didn’t match at all, but who was going to see him? He might as well have put on some fuzzy socks too. Once he was bundled in warm clothing he reached for his phone and began to scroll through his alerts.

Those were tons of messages from his friends apologizing and checking in on him, an email from his boss, even a message from one of his close classmates asking if he was coming in today. He checked the email first, worried he might have forgotten about a shift. He worked at a fast food chicken hut, and he had thought he didn't have work until tomorrow, but with the way his day was going he was better safe than sorry. He skimmed it quickly, only noticing the key details. To his relief it was just notifying him of what hours he would be working so he wouldn’t be late...again. His boss liked him because he did his work while on shift, but he wasn’t the most reliable when it came to actually showing up on time. He usually did the four to nine shift but tomorrow he was working overnight.

His last notification was from Uraraka . She used a long string of emojis to accompany a message apologizing for leaving him alone last night. She seemed genuinely upset and said that Iida had dragged her out before she had even realized what was happening. Both Uraraka and Iida were Graphic design majors and lived together on campus. There was a good chance the two of them were dating, but Izuku never pressed the subject. He decided he might as well message her just to see if she wanted to come over. She most likely wouldn’t respond, but it was worth a shot. His fingers flicked across his keyboard and he sent him a simple text that got his point across.

‘Come over. I’ll get snacks and a movie. Just bring something… strong. Makeup for leaving me alone last night by giving me something to forget about Shoto.’ he knew he would regret saying this even as he typed the words, but he longed for an escape. Not only just from his Ex, but more from his situation. Somewhere deep within himself, Izuku felt like he was missing something. Like he didn’t belong. It was as if he was yearning for a place he had never been, whose he would finally feel whole. That “place” certainly wasn’t his one bedroom apartment.

Izuku decided it was worthwhile to put some concealer on, so as not to look like a total wreck for his friends. He didn’t care much about his appearance, but at the very least he wanted to cover up the redness of his tired eyes. His head still throbed from the past nights drinking, and every time he would turn his head too fast clusters of black dots would cloud his vision. Sighing heavily, he let himself fall back against his pillow, deciding he would just take a short nap until someone responded. He had no idea how late he had been up yesterday, but he could feel his fatigue dripping from him. Not even bothering to cover himself with the comforter, he rolled over, burying his face into the warmth of his cotton heat.

~~~

A ding on Izuku’s phone stared him from his sleep. He had his ringer all the way up, and the loud beep echoed through his room. Groaning, he turned over grabbing his phone from his night stand. It was later in the evening now, nearly Five o’clock, and the sun was no longer at its peak in the sky. Among other notifications, he had a message from Uraraka.

‘I’m in class, but I’ll be over in a bit. I get out at 4 so close to then.’

Four? It was an hour past then. Izuku sat up in bed, worried that he had missed her. He would feel so stupid if she had actually shown up only for his to fall asleep. Just as he began to worry, he heard quiet talking coming from the living room. He couldn’t quite make out what was being said, but it sounded like the TV was playing, as well as small laughs that bounced around the apartment. He sat up, clutching his head and stumbled out of his bedroom. Sitting thoughtlessly on his couch was Uraraka, watching his TV as if it was her own house. She had her feet kicked up on his coffee table and her school bag was sitting next to her. She had clearly come straight from class. He certainly hadn’t been quiet when he barged into the room, and she looked up from where she was sitting and looked at him as if he was the one who seemed out of place. She had a smug grin, and he was sure he must look ridiculous from sleeping on his face.

“The front door was open so I invited myself in.” She said nonchalantly, leaning her head backwards on the couch to stare at him. He definitely should have warned her-

“I wouldn't sit thise if I was you. Pretty sure I had sex there last night.” He said, sighing. Normally it would have been funny to see the look of utter disgust on Uraraka's face, but he was still feeling guilty about what happened. The brunette quickly leapt up from the couch, shaking herself off as if he had gotten an STD just from sitting there. He looked at her with regret at having spent the last hour laying down on the sofa. As bad as his mood was, it did brighten him a little bit to see the idiot running around trying to whip the cooties off of herself. Slowly his frown turned up and he began to laugh, walking forward and throwing a clean blanket over the cushions and taking a seat himself. “Honestly I don’t really remember what happened last night, but Shoto did say some cryptic things about the living room.” He said, giggling at Uraraka’s reaction.

After a few more minutes of flailing and laughing, she finally sat down, smiling brightly. She was glad to see that he wasn’t an absolute wreck. When Izuku did things he regretted, he tended to be a mess for days. She had been especially worried today when he asked for hard drugs. He rarely did anything more than pot, so he knew he must be really upset.

“You promised snacks, but I have yet to see any food.” She commented, gesturing dramatically around the room that was still covered in trash. Izuku wished he had had the chance to clean before she had come over, but to be fair, he wasn’t even awake by the time she arrived.

“I swear you only ever come over for my food.” he muttered, standing back up and walking over to the cupboards. He almost expected them to be completely empty, but to his surprise those were still a few bags of chips amongst the others food. Maybe his friends had just missed them the night they were over, or maybe this was their way of apologizing for leaving him with Shoto. Either way at least this was food left to offer in return for whatever Uraraka had brought over. He grabbed some ruffles and what was left of the takis and threw them down in front of Uraraka. “This is the best I can offer, so eat up.” He slumped down next to her and sighed. He already felt better being in the company of one of his friends.

Uraraka immediately opened up the bag and began to scarff down the food as if it was the last meal she would ever eat. If she kept up like that she would probably end up puking on him. While she made quick work of the chips, he snatched his backpack and began to dig around, looking for whatever he could to calm his racing mind. Being in Uraraka’s presence was nice, but he needed something a little… stronger. Her mess of a bag had crumbled up papers, day old food wrappers and a variety of notebooks. Her computer was the one clean looking thing in the whole black hole, and he definitely didn't see any drugs. She had flaked out on him. Shit. He dropped it to the floor and let his head fall back, looking straight at the ceiling. It was stupid feeling so dissapointed over something like this. Asking his friends for drugs definitely wasn’t a healthy way to cope with whatever this was, but at some point in his life it was like he had just given up. Given up on being a good son, on his school work, on making something out of his life.

When he was a kid his mother would tell his that he was his brightest star and that he just needed to find his home. He thought he had found it with his Ex, but all he had come out with was addiction and depression. He had become so codependent with him, that the last couple months alone had felt like hell. Everyday he almost gave in and unblocked his number, just wanting to be able to have someone to lean back on, but his mothiss words stuck with him. As much as his kind touches and loving whisper would sing him into his sweet fantasies, it was hard to look past all of the time he would get mad or violent. He was so good with his words, and he used them as a weapon, bleeding Izuku of his indiscretions. It was hard to win a battle against someone who knew your everything. Shoto was his weakness and it was easy to exploit that.

Truth be told he would kill to just be able to sit down and talk to his mother, but he hadn’t seen her in person in over two years. It wasn’t that they hadn’t been close, but when he moved out his mother had moved to Europe. She never came back to visit, and Izuku never asked. If he called her right now and really wanted her to come home, he knew she would catch the first flight back, but he never said anything. Inko had had Izuku when she was only 19 and he had always felt guilty for taking away the prime of her life. His mother never showed it, but he had the feeling that she was missing something. This was always this longing look on her face, especially after his father died.

He barely remembered his dad, but everyone who knew him talked fondly of him. Inko always said that they were deeply in love and that she wouldn’t give up the time they had for the world. After he had passed away he said she felt very distant living at home. That’s why after Izuku had moved out for college she had gone to England.

He only realized he had been spacing out when he looked up to see Uraraka pulling a small gum tin from her pocket. “You looked so zoned out just now I thought you might already be buzzed” She said jokingly, sliding the lid off the container. Inside was a small pile of white paper strips with hearts on them. That was definitely stronger than weed.

He had only taken LSD once before and had a rough trip that felt like it lasted forever. his friends assured him it was only around seven hours, but it had felt like days. He had almost walked into a busy street towards the end of it, and hadn’t really tried it since. He wasn’t sure if he really felt like doing this, but at this point he felt bad refusing Uraraka when she had come all this way for him, not to mention she was giving it to him for free. Maybe it was out of obligation or self pity, but he opened his lips, sticking out his tongue and placed a tab in his mouth. It tasted like nothing and disintegrated instantly, leaving him waiting patiently for it to kick in.

He looked over at Uraraka who sighed and smiled at him. “It’s probably going to take at least 30 minutes to kick in. We should probably just settle in with a movie.” Without waiting for confirmation he grabbed a remote off the table and clicked on the tv. After a bit of scrolling through netflix they settled on the ring, a safe choice.

Izuku had settled into the couch and was deep into the movie when he thought he heard someone whispering behind his back. It almost sounded like the wind whistling in his head and it made his skin tingle. He ignored it at first, playing it off as his imagination but the words seemed to come closer, until they were right in his ear, mumbling nonsense he couldn’t make out. He whipped his head around, looking for the source, but was only meant with the empty apartment. He looked over to Uraraka to see if she was experiencing the same thing, but for some reason only half of her was sitting on the couch. From her waist down was right where she was supposed to be but the rest of her was nowhere in sight. This should have been alarming, but instead he found himself giggling, covering his mouth with his hand so Uraraka’s legs wouldn’t get mad at him. The closer he looked the funnier it became to him, and soon he was breaking out into a fit of laughter.

As he laughed he could see the sounds tumbling out of his mouth in bright colors that painted the whole room into a rainbow. All of the hues seemed to seep together into a psychedelic collage. He slowly stood, trying to gasp them between his fingers, only to stumble over, nearly face planting into the beer stained carpet. As he stared at it the ground seemed to boil and pop beneath his. He felt a pair of arms wrapped around his hoisting his back to his feet. He turned his head, to come face to face with Uraraka, who was back to being a whole person.

“I found the rest of you!” he said with triumph, a bubbly laugh erupting from his. Izuku could see her lips moving, but couldn’t hear any of the words she was saying as she slowly set him back down on the couch. He was about to protest and stand again, when small black dots began to spot his vision. He blinked a few times, trying to get them to disappear, but they only seemed to grow, slowly clouding his vision.

He looked around for Uraraka, wanting to ask for help, but she was nowhere in sight. He began to shake his head violently, not understanding what was happening, but everything kept getting darker and darker. He was vaguely aware he was screaming, but he couldn’t seem to hear the sound. His throat began to get soar and he felt like he couldn’t breath. He began to take deep gulps of air, but it only made him more dizzy. Just as the last of his sight blacked out, he felt himself falling backwards, losing his strain of consciousness and collapsing into sleep

#bakudeku #bkdk #writing #bakudeku fic #bakugou x deku #fanfic #original writing #single parent #abusive Ex #angst #drugs #oc #Bakugou is an amazing father #izuku needs a hug #ongoing #will be updated.

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amintyworld · 4 years

Note

For the prompts! “Where WERE you?! Are you… okay…? Goodness, you’re burning up!” With Anxceit?

Hot and Cold

A/N: Hey Anon! Sorry, this took a while, but I finally got some motivation to finish it, and I hope you enjoy it! BTW, I forgot to add in part of the prompt, and I’m sorry, but I still hope you enjoy it anyway! - Minty

Summary: After an argument breaks out between Janus and Virgil, Virgil quickly leaves out into the incoming snowstorm.

TW: Hypothermia, mention of cheating, unconsciousness. (As always, tell me if I missed anything!)

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

Virgil was stupid.

There was no other explanation for the reason he was walking down 11th Avenue beneath the bright streetlamps, rubbing his arms and shivering like a drowned cat. Tears slipped down his cheeks, turning a bitter cold as they left wet droplets on the sidewalk.

Virgil Ingram was an idiot, there was no doubt. Only an idiot would run out the door without a jacket. A cold gust of wind left a cold chill in Virgil’s bones. His teeth chattered slightly as he tried in vain to get warm.

It all started with a simple disagreement, a simple argument over some dishes, and within a few minutes, it turned fiery. The couple shouted at each other for hours, yelled at each other. It was Virgil’s and Janus’s first-ever argument as a couple, and Virgil was more than a little scared.

Fear did always get the better of him. Virgil guessed that’s why he ran. That’s why he ran away from the person he loved more than anyone else in the world because he was afraid with a few words it was all over. It had to be over, right?

Janus’s face - twisted into a pure rage, his yells loud and sharp. No one could love him after a blow-up like that. Virgil’s heart burned with heartbreak, and his nerves rocked his body. Though he felt like going back, his mind urged him forward. He didn’t know where he was going, all he knew was that he was too ashamed and anxious to return.

Suddenly, another chill blew through his bones, making him shiver. His head pointed down, he noticed the wetness of the sidewalk in confusion. He looked up - snow. It was snowing and he was wearing nothing but a T-Shirt.

Awesome.

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

Janus paced the living room, his cellphone in hand. He tried following his boyfriend when he booked it away from the house, only to quickly lose track of him and find his jacket on the ground on their doorstep - he hadn’t even noticed it when he chased after Virgil.

The jacket he’d gotten for his boyfriend - hand-stitched, black with white sewn purple patches. Janus would never forget the look on Virgil’s face when he opened the present - that smile that made his heart melt. It was their one-year anniversary.

The jacket lay sprawled across the couch. Janus’s mind was worried for Virgil, making it spin like a top. He regretted every word, his anger dissipated all too quickly. It didn’t matter anymore, the argument, the anger, the back-and-forth - none of it mattered. The only thing that mattered to Janus was Virgil. He tried not to think about Virgil getting hurt, or kidnapped out in the cold and in the streets.

Janus’s eyes checked his phone for the 15th time that evening. He’d called Roman in a panic after a few hours and Virgil not returning. Roman tried to calm him as he promised his friend to search around and make sure the emo was safe. Silence engulfed the small house. Janus huffed as he sat back down on the couch, his phone face up on the coffee table in front of him. His leg shook nervously as he waited for a sign, a signal… anything.

His eyes snapped toward a sound, the vibrating phone on the wooden table.

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

Virgil doesn’t remember what exactly happened. All he remembered was the numbing coldness seeping so deeply in his bones, making every fluid motion feel like knives digging into his skin. He remembered he was going to try to make it to the nearby bus stop for some kind of relief from the wind and snow. He didn’t know how much time had passed since he rushed into the night, but...

He remembered someone… calling his name?

Then… warmth. Comforting, warm warmth… Virgil’s mind began to grow tired as his body went limp and he heard a panicked voice mumble ‘Shit-’.

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

Roman rushed toward Janus’s house, holding Virgil in his arms - his body freezing cold. He didn’t know whether Virgil was dead or alive, the only thing that told him otherwise was the small heaving in his chest as he slept in his arms. The snow was heavily falling on his car, coating his window and roof in a thick layer of white within seconds when he found him.

Virgil was shaking, shivering, looking paler than normal as the snow coated his head and shoulders, turning his warm brown locks white. He got out of his car quickly, calling for him and running over as he began to slowly plummet toward the ground, Roman dashing quickly and managing to catch him in his arms.

Roman rang the doorbell six times, and when Janus opened the door he rushed inside, trying to find the warmest area possible. “Where WERE you-?!” He saw Virgil and his voice dropped. “Is he… okay?”

He beelined for the small fireplace in the corner of the living room, scrambling to remember what Logan taught him to do in those first-aid classes, all he knew was that he needed to get warm and get warm now. He turned to Janus quickly. “You got matches?”

“Uh… I… yes…” Janus was looking toward Virgil with concern, not knowing what was wrong as Roman carefully set him down next to the fireplace.

“Grab them, now!” Roman yelled, nervous as all heck.

Soon enough, Roman lit the fire, leaving Virgil unconscious on the floor. Janus took a deep breath to calm his nerves as Roman explained the situation. “He got hypothermia, I dunno what to do, he nearly collapsed in the snow-”

“What can I do to help?” Janus asked, and Roman tried to recall his training.

“Just, uh… you need to get him warm! Warm drinks, blankets… oh! He needs to get out of those wet clothes.” Roman said, and Janus just nodded.

“I’ll get him out of those clothes and in some blankets. You should make some tea.”

Janus rolled up his sleeves and walked over toward the roaring fire, Virgil still cold and now wet from the heat, looking weak from the cold, and Janus couldn’t help but chastise himself - this was all his fault, he shouldn’t have yelled. He moved Virgil’s limp body closer to his own, pulling up the soggy t-shirt and throwing it to the side, moving to his jeans, then socks and shoes. He grabbed a soft blanket and held Virgil’s cold body close to his, wrapping the blanket around both of them.

He was still breathing. Thank god for that.

Janus positioned Virgil against his chest as he ran his fingers through Virgil’s hair, feeling his heartbeat with his own. Virgil’s wet hair soaked Janus’s white shirt, and he reluctantly opened it up to get it dry, leaving Virgil asleep on his bare chest. He felt his face flush as Virgil sighed, leaning into his chest more, being cute again.

The more Janus thought about it, the more he realized that his boyfriend was naked to his undies sleeping against his chest, the closest they’ve ever gotten thus far physically. His boyfriend was almost-naked cuddled up against him, and his blush deepened.

He’d never really seen him shirtless before, and it never occurred to him up until this point that this was… Virgil was shirtless. He tried to remind himself it was for his health, that he was freezing, but… for some reason, the blush never left his cheeks.

Maybe it had to do with the fact that their chests were touching, or Virgil’s sleepy cute sigh, or that fact that they were cuddling next to a fire...

Roman walked over with three steaming mugs, more relaxed knowing everything was under control. “Alright, I made tea and hot chocolate for Virge, you know how he doesn’t like tea that much-” A grin spread across his cheeks as he looked to Janus’s blush. “Should I… leave you two alone for a bit? Wouldn’t want to be interrupting anything-”

“NO- I… you’re not… everything’s fine, I’m just trying to keep him warm-”

“I see. Well, I’ll be in the kitchen if you guys need anything, seems you two need some time alone-” Roman smirked, walking away with a steaming mug toward the kitchen once more, a knowing look on his face. If looks could kill, Roman would be dead right now with the way Janus stared daggers at him as he left.

Janus sighed as he shifted to grab his cup of tea and began to sip, his fingers fumbling through Virgil’s hair, content, trying to relax from the tension the evening brought. The clock ticked by, and Janus just sipped his tea, trying to figure out what to say to him when he woke up. Eventually, Virgil stirred, his eyes slowly beginning to open, looking up and around him with confusion, and Janus’s hand wormed into his. “Hey.”

“Uh...hey,” Virgil said awkwardly, a smile on his face. “Uh… I…”

“I’m sorry. I never should have yelled, I never should have gotten so upset, you should be able to have your own privacy-”

“No, I’m sorry. I… I should have told you what was going on instead of just running away, I…” Virgil bit his lip. “I got fired.”

“Oh,” Janus said. “I’m so sorry, Vee.” He squeezed Virgil’s hand, making Virgil look down, a blush sneaking on his face.

“Uh… please tell me this is some kind of weird nightmare-”

Janus laughed. “Sorry to say you’re not dreaming. You were freezing up, I needed to make sure your wet clothes were off so you could get warm again.” Their eyes met again. “You really scared me. Please, don’t run out on me like that again.”

“I thought you were done with me for good,” Virgil said softly, and Janus held Virgil’s cheek as he met this with a warm smile.

“You are the best, most amazing person in the world, Virgil,” Janus said softly, his fingers running through Virgil’s hair. “A little argument won’t change that, I promise.”

“Hm…” Virgil smiled softly, both hearts beating as one at that moment, wrapped in blankets by the fire, and soon enough they found their lips together, happy to just have each other.

#anxciet #sanders sides #sander sides #sanders sides fic #tw hypothermia #minty answers #answers #ask #prompt #virgil sanders #ts virgil #roman sanders #ts roman #janus sanders #ts janus #hurt/comfort

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lordseochangbin · 4 years

Text

Falling in the Club

Seo Changbin x Reader -Fluff, Suggestive, Angst

A/N: Hi this is the 4th Changbin fic I’ve written in a row please don’t hate me MSKSKSK I’ve just been... nonstop thinking about Changbin sooooo... anyways enjoy <3

“Good morning” Changbin whispers into your ear in a raspy voice that sends tingles down your skin.

Your eyes flutter open at the sight of the handsome man in front of you. It’s an unfamiliar feeling- a panic when you jump at your surroundings. Fuck, where were you?

Pictures and more pictures, more memories from last night. They all seem too blurry to remember. You were in the club… Seungmin! God, you saw Seungmin there. That must’ve been bad.

After two years, Seungmin decided to call it quits. It was probably one of the most devastating moments of your life considering Seungmin was what your mother would call “your only achievement” and now losing him seemed to degrade you to nothing.

That was until a man named Seo Changbin stepped in. As the dark room filled with colored disco lights fills the room, you were able to hide the one tear that shed as you saw Seungmin with another girl on the other side of the club the day before.

Stepping in front of you, Changbin covered all sights of your ex-boyfriend across the room. Not only your ex-boyfriend, but all your “friends” that you had made by being with Seungmin. You knew if you ever lost Seungmin you’d lose everything- your shared apartment, your friends, your life.

It all struck you at once as the stranger who blocked your sights leaned down to meet your teary eyes. “Are you alright?” He asked, his minty breath mixed with a hint of vodka. You eyed his glass, he didn’t drink much- maybe a few sips.

You bit your lip and looked down in embarrassment before shaking your head. “Sorry.. no, no. I shouldn’t be here” You repeated before turning around to leave.

Feeling a sudden grip around your wrist, you gasped as the man spun you around. Considering the weakness that took over your intoxicated figure, you found yourself bumping into the man’s broad chest. “I’m guessing that’s your ex-boyfriend over there?” He asks, placing his drink on one the passing server’s trays.

“Is it that obvious?” You reply, rolling your eyes.

He tilts his head to the side as if he was thinking about it before replying, “A little”

The music seemed to have queued off in your head ever since you landed eyes on this stranger. A black tee hugged his frame with distressed jeans and a pair of black shoes. A small silver necklace and matching earrings complimented the look, a split parting his jet black hair to reveal a bit of his forehead. He must’ve noticed you eyeing his figures before giving you a small smirk. “My name’s Changbin,” He said, loosening his grip on your wrist as if to give you the choice. Will you stay or will you go?

His gaze watched yours as you thought about the question before pulling him to the middle of the floor. “Let’s dance?” You asked daringly with a smile.

“My pleasure”

And that’s how the rest of the night went on. Your back pressed against Changbin’s chest, hands thrown behind his neck, his strong arms holding your close. Teasing and teasing, over and over. His lips biting onto your ear every now and then. Closing your eyes in bliss and his hands rubbing circles on your hips. God, the tension between you two thrived. No one else was in the room but the two of you- or so it felt that way.

You let yourself fall into him, fall in love with him. As the song came to an end, you two smiled and cheered on the DJ. Laughing at each other’s presence, you held onto Changbin’s hands before locking eyes with Seungmin. Instant panic ran through you as you felt your heart drop in your chest.

You forgot he was here. You forgot Seungmin was here with another girl. “What’s wrong?” Changbin asked, noticing your expression change.

“N-nothing.. can we get out of here?” You quickly ask as you notice Seungmin furrow his eyebrows and walk towards you.

“Yeah, just let me grab my jacket”

Changbin grabs your hand before pulling you off the dance floor. You two disappear into the crowd and when you have the chance to turn back you realize Seungmin was gone.

“Where do you wanna go? C-can I take you out for dinner if it’s not too late?” Changbin asks, taking his jacket and putting it over your shoulders.

“Burgers does sound really good right now” You nervously chuckle, trying to say anything in order to get yourself out of this situation. You look past Changbin to see Seungmin again, who’s looking around to find you.

When he looks your way, you take Changbin’s hand and turn around. “W-woah slow down” Changbin chuckles as he lets you drag him out.

You let out a sigh of relief as you two successfully leave the club, but the feeling is quickly broken off when you hear the voice of Seungmin. “Y/N, what are you doing here?”

Your hand gives Changbin’s a squeeze as you bit your lip. “I’m just here..? What are you doing here?”

Seungmin looks down nervously as he itches the nape of his neck. Of course, what is he going to reply? That after one day he managed to get over you and now he’s out with another girl?

“I’m here with a co-worker”

Of course he is. You eye Changbin, obviously feeling left out given the situation, and grab his hand. “Let’s go” You say before Seungmin could but in again.

“Wait Y/N, you’re just going to go out with some drunk stranger? Do you even know who he is?”

Changbin clenched his jaw at his words, “Look man, I barely had anything to drink... I’m fine”

“You’re not fine!” Seungmin exclaims, separating you two. “Y/N, I’ll take you home,” He says, grabbing your hand.

“Are you kidding? Y/N, let’s grab something to eat” Changbin asks, grabbing your free hand.

You found yourself asking that same question. Will you stay or will you go? Between the guys, you weigh the options. If you went with Seungmin, it would be no different. You’d go home and your mom would scold you for not letting Seungmin stay the night… little does she know that you two ended it.

If you went with Changbin the opportunities were endless… who knows where the night would take you. That’s exactly what you needed. Not to be in the same place as you were yesterday, broken-hearted and shedding tears. You needed, no- you wanted, more opportunities.

“Let’s go grab a burger,” You say, wiggling out of Seungmin’s grip before he could repeat himself.

“You’re going to get yourself in trouble Y/N, he’s going to treat you like shit!”

Turning around, you watching Seungmin before replying “That’s a lot better than how you’ve treated me these past two years!”

Changbin smiled at the remark, “Fucking crushed him man, he’s a piece of shit” You smiled at Changbin before he could guide you to his car.

“Y/N… You don’t need him to look after you like that” Changbin said

“Really? It seems like he’s been the reason for everything in my life” You shrug your shoulders. It was true, Seungmin helped you make friends, get an apartment, you did everything with him.

“He’s not anymore, don’t let him be,” He said, opening the door for you.

“You’re right” You smile at Changbin, getting into his car.

“I know” Changbin smiled before closing your door.

The morning after, here you were. Wide awake, fully aware of your actions. Headbanging from the hangover. Almost sober with a lot on your mind.

“Good Morning Changbin…” God. You’re not wearing the same clothes you were wearing yesterday. Did you really do it?! Your mom’s going to be so pissed.

You whisper, “Did we… do anything last night?”

Changbin sits up, his back against the backboard of the bed before smirking. “You mean this?” He asks, unbuttoning his shirt to reveal red kiss marks on his chest. Your eyes pop out at the sight, did you give him those?!

“Oh my god,” You start sobbing as you eye your clothes on the ground. “Changbin my mom’s gonna kill me... I’m not a virgin but my mom’s gonna kill me” You continued to cry out, throwing your face into the palm of your hands.

“Y/N?! Y/N, yo I’m just kidding I put there on myself!” He laughed as you looked up at him hopelessly. “I’m just messing with you!”

Your jaw drops at his words. “Are you kidding me?!” You take one of his pillows and hit him with it. “Don’t ever do that again!!”

Changbin laughs at your reaction before leaning closer. Using the sleeves of his shirt, he wipes the few tears off your cheeks before confirming. “Don’t worry, after going to the burger shack I took you here because you refused to go home to your mother all drunk, and I gave you some clothes to change into and you crashed on my bed.”

“You… didn’t sleep here?” You asked curiously.

“Couch seemed pretty comfortable”

Leaning closer to him, you caged him against the backboard of the bed before asking daringly, “Why not?”

Changbin smirked at your actions, keeping his hands on your waist to maintain some distance. “What do you mean, why not?”

“Why didn’t you do anything with me?” You ask again, leaning closer to him.

“Don’t provoke me, darling, it won’t make you feel bolder” Changbin says, his eyes watching yours.

“But I want to…” You whispered, lips inches away from him. Making yourself comfortable on his lap, you link your lips with his. He instantly kisses you back, hands gripping on your waist and yours being thrown around his neck. He grabs your ass to pull you closer, kissing you deeper with every moment. Yes, it’s messy, but it feels so good that you can’t stop.

You pull away from his lips, quick to attach them to his neck and you feel Changbin shift under you. Allowing your every move on him as you continue to kiss around the area before he could pull you away.

“If you keep this up I’m not sure if I’ll be able to stop myself…” Changbin says in a voice that arouses you. As much as he hated to admit it (a/n:omg hi bang chan’s song sorry isdfhdsjkfskdf), he really liked you. He had fallen for you just as hard.

“That’s a chance I’m willing to take…” You reply before leaning closer to kiss him again.

“H-how about I make breakfast?” Changbin says, licking his lips as he acknowledges that he ruined the moment.

You shyly get off Changbin’s lap before muttered out, “Sure” and throwing the grew comforter over you.

Changbin’s quick to leave the room, leaving you alone to your thoughts again. What the hell was that?

Luckily the sudden moment had kept your mind off of last night as you leave Changbin’s bed to grab a robe and join him in the kitchen. His penthouse seemed top class, all walls black or grey and the leather furniture only adding to the dark vibe. Vinyls met the walls and you eyed each one as you walked down the hall, he had amazing taste in music. Safe to say, he must of been a terrible cook though.

“What are you doing?” You laugh as you watching Changbin unsuccessfully crack another egg. You run to the counter before he could pick up another egg. “You’re so aggressive, just lightly tap the shell… it’ll crack on its own”

Putting your hand over Changbin’s, you lightly tap the egg on the edge of the counter and help him drop the yolk inside a bowl. The close proximity doesn’t hit you until you notice Changbin’s heavy breaths behind you, he’s trying so hard to hide it but it’s noticeable. He clearly didn’t want to be with you though, seeing as he interrupted your last moment.

“Umm… I’ll just wait here” You say, gesturing at the other side of the counter.

“Ah..ah” Changbin interrupted, handing you a few eggs and a bowl. “You can do this, I’ll get some bacon out”

You smile as he hands you the eggs and turns around to grab the bacon. You could get used to this, but you knew it would only last today. Don’t fall for it... he only pitied you last night. He pitied your broken-hearted self. This was just a one-night thing.

You kept telling yourself the same thing before the door could knock. “Do you mind getting that?” Changbin asks, turning around to eye the door.

“Sure” You get up on your seat and walk towards the door before Changbin could stop you. “Wait.. I’ll get it, I don’t want anyone to see you like that”

“Like what?” You look down realizing you were only wearing a robe. “Oh… got it” You two laugh before Changbin could get the door.

“Where’s Y/N?!” You hear from the door. It’s a familiar voice, one that strikes all the panic out of you.

“Umm.. she’s right over-” Changbin’s cut off by Seungmin as he barges into the room.

“Y/N, what the hell are you doing here?! In his house?! Are you serious??”

You roll your eyes at his words. “What the hell are you doing here?”

“I’m here to take you from him,” Seungmin said, gesturing at Changbin who was stood by the door. “I asked around at the club and people told me he always takes girls home, how do you think I found his address? Just from another one of the girls, he messes with here.”

“W-what?” You reply before Seungmin could grab your hand. “Let’s get out of here Y/N,” Seungmin says. You stumble on your way out the door, keeping your eyes on Changbin as you pass by him.

“Tell me it’s not true Changbin..”

When he doesn’t reply, you take a deep breath before repeating yourself. “Tell me it’s not true Changbin”

Changbin looks down at the floor. He looks disappointed almost, and he chokes on his breath as he replies “I-I can’t…”

Seungmin tugged at your arm to take you to his car, letting him. Letting him drag you anywhere you wanted. It didn’t matter anymore. The one guy that told you to not let Seungmin control your life threw you in his control again, and you knew once you came home to your mother you’d have to explain that you weren’t with Seungmin- and never will be.

93 notes · View notes

clnriswood · 4 years

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DRACO MALFOY X CEDRIC DIGGORY X READER

Something Different | Part Three

a/n: Hope you’re all prepared for some red hot angst, hehe.

tag list: @call-me-banana-bandit @pillowjj @truly-insatiable @natsiboo @justmesadgirl @boredoffmebox @jjjmaybank @jejegu @ superpowereddonut @irritantive @salemlilly @marshmelloyellow02 @puffymints @is-it-really-a-secret @i-mmunity @sebastiansass @hisoldlover @kyobien

Things were awfully awkward the next day. The whole morning, it seemed, Cedric was dodging the girl left and right. At breakfast he was quiet as he picked absentmindedly at his scrambled eggs, and the whole walk to Potions Class he was silent, too. To be fair, the girl wasn’t doing much better. Through their words, or lack thereof, they seemed to come to the mutual mental agreement to not acknowledge what had happened the night before. After all, it wasn’t as if either could even find the words to say about it. And so, as they entered Professor Slughorn's dark little classroom, accompanied by only a select few Hufflepuff and Slytherin qualifying N.E.W.T. students, the only sound to be heard was the pattering of footsteps and bubbling of liquids within the set of large black pots before them. One potion in particular, front and center, seemed to beckon the girl with its enrapturing scent. She swore, almost, that the students around her seemed to have the same thing on their minds as they huddled close at the front of the cavern-like classroom. The issue didn’t dwell on her mind long, however, as the burning sensation of someone’s gaze went searing into her cheeks from the left and distracting her at once. Draco Malfoy, with his snow white skin and icy eyes, looked miserable as ever as he turned his attention swiftly away from her on sight. Try as he might, there was no hiding the look of mild frustration that seemed to reside on the curvatures of those high cheekbones and bent lips. The girl’s eyes narrowed with contemplation as she turned her head slowly away from the boy, at which point the fresh face at Hogwarts, Professor Slughorn, came waddling out of his supply cabinet. He wore a cheshire-like smile as he beamed at the young faces before him, and his sparkling eyes did a double take when they fell on Y/N.

“My my,” he seemed to gasp, “I know that face!”

The girl’s stare went flickering confusedly over to Cedric on instinct, and she found he was looking questioningly right back at her with those huge, kind eyes.

“M-me?” she stammered, her brows knitting.

“Why of course, miss Y/L/N, daughter of Y/M/F/N Y/M/L/N,” he scoffed, waving his hand through the air as he went teetering over to her.

“You knew my mother?” the girl asked, quite aware that all eyes were currently on her.

“Yes of course,” he babbled, making a detour to a nearby shelf, upon which were dozens of golden framed photos. “Brilliant witch, and the most beautiful spirit,” he muttered joyously, bringing one of the pictures along with him.

The girl’s heart sunk as she realized what the picture frame contained; a photo of her mother and father beside a notably younger Professor Slughorn. The three of them wore huge white grins as they waved giddily at their picture’s taker. As the photo began its magically induced re-loop, she found her throat closing up with hurt. Slughorn barely noticed, as he was too busy using his thumb to brush off the particles of dust that coated the frame’s edges. He spoke more to himself, as he continued.

“You look so much like them, you know. And your father, he was one of the great’s, too.”

There was no stopping the sudden flush of red to her cheeks, “my father was a terrible man who sold himself over to Lord Voldemort.”

Her classmates flinched backwards at the name, all except Draco, it seemed.

“Yes,” her teacher nodded, raising his gentle gaze to her, “and great he was, ever the same.”

She felt her heart pounding hard against her chest as she looked back at the professor, understanding his point but disliking it nonetheless. His next words, however, redeemed him.

“No matter. I already know by the yellow of your robes and the fierceness in your eyes that you’re all your mother’s.”

It was true. Her mother had been a Hufflepuff, like her, and the girl had been told many a time of her ferocity. Being that she admired her so, the girl had no doubtedly been relieved to have been sorted into her mother’s house her first year at Hogwarts, and to wear her yellow colors proudly, as opposed to her father’s emerald ones. And her ferocity? Well, that was something she actively sought to portray, something she wanted the world to remember.

“Anyways,” Slughorn’s voice interjected her thoughts, “I am sure I will be seeing more of you, but enough chatter for now, we have work to do!”

As the class all clamored in reaching for their books, she couldn’t help but to feel a lingering weight on her chest. Keeping her eyes steadily forward, she denied the oncoming glance of her friend beside her, and chose instead to hold her teeth tight together, so hard it hurt. The sound of Cedric’s voice came swimming into her ears slowly as she regained focus.

“....amortentia,” he explained, “the strongest love potion in the world.”

“Correct, my boy!” Slughorn exclaimed. “And what else?”

The girl’s eyes settled on the cauldron they discussed, the one that seemed to lure her close. A curl of attractive pink steam danced from the potion’s surface, and it smelled of rain, chamomile, and something else. Was it a cologne of some sort? No, no it was almost minty. But then there was the cologne again. Perhaps it was actually both, she realized. Either way, it was indistinguishable to her.

“Amortentia smells different to each person, Cedric was continuing, “its scent changes according to what attracts a person. For example, I smell grass, and honey, and-”

The boy seemed to go suddenly still, like a thought had gotten glued to his tongue.

“Lavender,” he finished ever so quietly, his face going suddenly very red as he turned his nose to the table.

There was just a second's hesitation before the girl realized what it was exactly that had him flustered, and she soon found her own face burning up as she moved her eyes glossily away from her friend. Nobody in the classroom understood the implications of his last word, of course, though it certainly didn’t prevent a series of giggles from onlooking girls in the class, who batted their lashes at Cedric. Dismissively, the girl scanned her surroundings, surprising herself when her eyes came to a halt. On the opposite side of the dungeon, Draco Malfoy’s snow white skin had gone, for whatever reason, warm with pink. His big eyes were on Cedric first, and then Y/N. When he caught her looking he frustratedly let out a grumble and turned his nose into his potions book, which he now suddenly seemed very interested in. Next to her, Cedric did the same thing.

“This, however,” Slughorn said, moving swiftly along, “is far more valuable.”

The professor lifted a tiny vial into the air. Within its glass was a gleaming gold fluid that swished merrily around.

“Felix Felicis,” he beamed.

“Liquid luck,” Cedirc echoed, earning himself an appreciative nod from the professor.

“It shall be awarded to the student who can most perfectly produce an acceptable Draught of Living Death,” Slughorn challenged. “Though I shall point out, however, that only once did a student produce a potion of sufficient quality to claim this prize.”

All eyes were on Slughorn, now. Most notably, Draco’s seemed to gleam with want. The girl knew exactly what she wanted the little vial for, of course. With quidditch tryouts just around the corner and her confidence practically underground, the potion was just the thing she needed to do the trick. And so, for the next hour or so, she and her classmates slaved tirelessly over their cauldrons. Unsurprisingly, she wasn’t all too successful (her potion was a sickly green color), but it seemed nobody else was, either. Likely the only student to get even a little close to the potion’s desired results was Cedric, who earned quite the eye of appreciation from Slughorn for both his skill and charm. Close as he was, nobody seemed to produce a viable enough draught to earn the glittering vial, which Slughorn assured them all was to be expected.

“We shall have to see if one of the Gryffindor or Ravenclaw students beat you to it!” he chortled at the end of their lessons.

As the students all began their miserable shuffle out of the room, the professor called out to Y/N and Cedric, beckoning them over. As the girl dragged her feet back towards the little round man she sped hastily past Draco Malfoy, her quick stare earning her a frazzled glance from the boy, rather than his standard disgusted ice blue daggers. She cleared her throat and pressed on, stopping at the front of Slughorn’s classroom.

“I’m having a bit of a student-teacher social at the end of the week,” he said excitedly. “I do hope the two of you will join me?”

Well, that had been unexpected. The intent seemed obvious, of course, but strange. Apparently the professor was picking favorites and not being all too shy about it. Cedric agreed jovially, of course, while the girl followed his acceptance with a slightly more begrudging nod and tilt of her lips. Her mind was preoccupied with enough things as it was. For starters, there was the night before, and then there was the amortentia induced confusion, the loss of her much needed liquid luck, and now this. As she made way into the halls, Cedric opened his mouth to speak to her, for the first time that day, she realized.

“The Slug Club,” he sniggered, “funny, right?”

“For you, sure,” she said dismissively, stuffing her hands into the pockets of her robes.

“What’s that mean then?” the boy arched a perfect brow at her, but she paid no attention.

“It means you’ve actually got something to offer,” she shrugged. “Me? I’ve just got some dead parents in a photo frame.”

“Don’t say that,” Cedric snapped in her defense.

She just kept walking.

“Hey.”

A firm and large hand came to her shoulder, stopping the girl.

Cedric towered over her, looking infuriatingly handsome under the still-summer sun. He chuckled weakley at her, his cheeks erupting with little dimples.

“Sick of you underselling yourself,” he half laughed half sighed, tilting his head at her.

“Ced,” the girl grumbled with embarrassment as students passed them, unable to hold his ocean eyes to her own.

“You’re incredible, I mean it!” he raised his voice and gave her a little squeeze, making her all the more flustered. “If you don’t believe it, then don’t go to Slug’s little mixer.”

“Oka-” she started.

“And neither will I!” he flashed his white teeth attractively as he cut her off.

“Oh for Christ’s sake,” she snorted, unable to resist his foolery.

“So you’ll go?” the bronze skinned boy perked up, picking up his pace as the girl now struggled to get farther away from her increasingly supportive friend.

“Wear something ridiculous and I’ll consider it!” she called over her shoulder as she hurried towards the courtyard.

Cedric had two thumbs high in the air when she turned, “I was planning on it!”

The girl laughed. It seemed all was back to normal.

That was, for about all of two seconds. For no sooner had the girl entered the courtyard than had a piece of paper come fluttering through the blue sheets of the sky and right towards her. The paper had been folded neatly, shaped like a little bird. If it hadn’t hit her smack in the nose, she may not have even realized what it was. The girl gasped in surprise and caught the parchment swiftly between her nimble fingers, unfolding its crumpled exterior in her opened palm whilst sporting a look of utter confusion.

The words had been written in a dark green ink, the same color as the fir trees in the Forbidden Forest, or at depths of the Great Lake.

𝐿𝒾𝒷𝓇𝒶𝓇𝓎. 𝟪𝓅𝓂. - 𝑀

The girl snapped her eyes up. Across from her, a little ways away, Hermione entered the courtyard. Her hair was bushy and curly as ever, her brown eyes wide with curiosity as she looked first to the girl and then to the paper in her hands. Frantically, the girl stepped herself into little circles, looking for the adressor of her note. M? For a moment it had confused her, and then, when the answer surfaced in her mind, she had only found herself all the more confused. What on earth could Draco Malfoy want with her? Had he not made it blatantly obvious the night before that the answer to that question was nothing whatsoever?

Her eyes darted around the faces of students in the vicinity, some walking in chattered huddles, others fountainside enjoying their time basking under the golden sunlight, and more yet flooding to and from the exposed halls. But Draco Malfoy was nowhere to be seen.

“Well, what is it?” Hermione asked, meeting Y/N in the centre of the cobblestone clearing.

She extended an arm, offering her friend a sandwich stuffed with greens.

It had been their tradition to meet during their occasional breaks for years now, the two frequenting the courtyard for chats during the few minutes of peace they could acquire. Hermione escorted the girl to a vacant stone bench nearby, the two girls sitting down upon its flat cold surface. The girl folded her legs up onto the platform and stuffed the parchment into the folds of her robes as she cracked open a chilled pumpkin juice.

“Nothing,” she lied unconvincingly, taking a big chomp out of her sandwich and chasing it shortly after with a swig of pumpkin juice.

Hermione had one hand in a bag of salted chips, which she abandoned without hesitation to go snatching at the girl, who bent swiftly out of her friend’s way.

“Hey!” the girl sniggered, batting away Hermione’s advances.

“You’re an awful liar, you know?” Hermione scrunched her nose with a curious smirk.

The girl stared widely at her friend, giving her a ‘well-you’re-not-wrong’ look as she reluctantly leaned in closer, her voice dropping.

“Draco wants me to meet up with him,” she whispered, like the whole school would implode if anyone were to hear her. “Tonight, in the library.”

“Oh Y/N,” Hermione frowned thoughtfully, “you know you really shouldn’t.”

“And why not?” the girl leaned back.

She tilted her chin up towards the glowing sun and enjoyed the freshening of the warm day’s breeze. The wind rustled around her, making strands of her hair dance against its gentle flow. Around her, birds chortled in conversation, and the nearby fountain gurgled out gigantic spurts of clear water.

After giving herself a moment to think, Hermione responded, “there’s only trouble headed that way.”

The girl opened one eye to look at her concerned friend, “and how would you know that? You’re the one who said he’s not even a death eater.”

“Well, yes-” Hermione began with mild frustration. “But death eater or not, he can’t be trusted.”

She wasn’t wrong.

As much as she didn’t want to hear it, her friend had a point. Draco Malfoy had done little the last five years of their lives other than torment the two of them, as well as his nemesis, and her friend, Harry Potter. But the adrenaline that came with investigating her curiosity of the snow-white boy was on a ravaging incline, and nothing was going to stop her.

She didn’t need to say the words for Hermione to know, just by looking at her face.

“Just, be careful,” her friend advised with a defeated sigh.

“O’course,” she answered with a wink.

Hermione relaxed her shoulders, “you sound just like Harry, you know? He hasn’t given up on his little theory of his. What d’you think he’d say about this?”

The girl blinked dumbly at Hermione. She always did know exactly what to say.

“Dunno,” she stretched out her legs, “which is why you’re not to say anything of it to him. Or Cedric.”

“Cedric?” Hermione asked.

“I dunno,” she waved a hand through the air, “he wouldn’t like it. And it could come up some point at Slug’s event.”

“What?” Hermione asked, confused as ever.

The girl finished off her snacks before continuing.

“Slughorn has a little favorites club, and he’s throwing us all a get together of some sort this weekend.”

“And why would I be there?” Hermione raised a quizzical brow.

“Because,” she beamed, “you’re Hermione Granger. And you’re smarter than most all of us students combined.”

Hermione’s ears reddened as she gave her friend a little smile.

“I’m headed there next,” Hermione dismissed her friend’s comment bashfully.

“Good,” the girl said, gathering her belongings. “Tell the boys I say hello, will you? And good luck with your draught.”

“My what?” Hermione voiced.

The girl laughed secretively as she turned, raising a finger to her lips as she grinned at her ever bewildered friend.

. . .

She’d almost tripped on her toes rushing out of the Great Hall that night. Feeling too nervous to eat, the girl had managed only a few bites of dinner before abandoning her golden platter entirely. She had felt a little ridiculous for feeling nervous, really, but how could she help it? Across the hall there had been an empty seat where Draco usually sat beside Crabbe, Goyle, and his other goons. Whether he was already at the library or off wandering corridors again she had no idea. Over at the Gryffindor table, Harry had yelled out the girl’s name, gaining her attention for enough time for him to raise into the air a little vial. Realizing the contents of his container was none other than the Felix Felicis, she’d mouthed back a “what the hell!?” to the boy-who-lived and an incredibly grumpy Hermione who sat beside him. On her right, Cedric and her friends were growing increasingly aware of the girl’s out of the ordinary manner. Tense, the girl had cleared her throat, claiming she needed to obtain a Herbology book, and flown away from her spot, under the glittering floating flames, and out of the Hall.

Her mind was thick with fog as she dragged her feet around corridor corners before reaching the Library. The girl entered slowly, her eyes making way over the massive room and its many oak framed shelves that touched the dome like ceiling with their tops. It was quiet, unsurprisingly. Few students were concerned with study at approximately eight o’clock on one of the first nights of the school year. Still, just to be safe the girl had made her way into the darker and mustier back corner of the Library, where there was minimal lighting aside from a few hovering gas lights. Only a few students inhabited the area nearby, but they were uninterested as the girl passed cooly by them and approached the nook space crammed between the two back shelves. As Draco had been nowhere in sight, she’d gone looking at the books, her fingers skimming their dusty spines slowly as she read their titles. It seemed, mostly, that they were on healing based learning.

The girl extended a hand, gently wiggling out a black leather book on charms out of boredom and almost dropping it entirely when she caught sight of a set of blue-grey eyes staring back at her from the other side of the bookshelf. She’d released a little yelpish gasp, drawing the attention of nearby students.

Draco’s hair was slicked smoothly back, not one hair out of place on his head. His lips were set hard with seriousness, his startling bright eyes holding a similar sense of firmness in them. The lamplight casted shadows over every detail of his perfectly carved face. The boy cleared his throat and turned away from the girl, speaking his almost inaudible words into the yellowed pages of the book he held rather than to her.

“Hello,” was all he said.

Oddly it seemed like that took a lot out of him.

She’d stared at him for a few seconds in bewilderment before mimicking his action and turning her own nose into her charms book. The pages had spilled open onto an enchantment for serious wound healing injuries.

“Still refuse to be seen talking to me then?” she worded flatly back.

Draco lifted his piercing gaze momentarily to hers, his lips curled downwards with upset before he resumed his idle stare of his book’s text.

“It’s for the best,” he uttered. “For you, too.”

Nearby, a few lower year hufflepuff students had raised their heads, but sunk them back into their studies when nothing seemed to happen. The girl waited for their looks to pass before replying.

“Alright,” she admitted half heartedly.

Not knowing what else to say, she stayed quiet. Apparently, Draco was having a similar internal struggle. There was a good half of a minute of utter stillness between them, the only sound being that of the rustling of nearby papers. As far as she was concerned, this was in the boy’s hands entirely. She’d reached out last time, only to be shortly stomped out like a fly. Now, if he wanted to do the talking, she would let him do the talking. All of it.

She lifted her eyes. He was already there, his huge ones glimmering back at her. They were flickering left and right over her stare, like he was trying to read her from the outside in. Feeling the pressure of his gaze, she turned back to her healing enchantment. Draco edged his way closer, leaning his shoulder against the shelves. He raised a hand to his ear, using his long fingers to fidget nervously against his cheeks.

“Was it Potter who told you?” Draco whispered at last.

“Told me what?” she said without addressing him.

Now it seemed like he wanted her to look, but she didn’t give him the satisfaction.

“Was it him? Was it him who told you to keep tabs on me?” he mouthed with a twinge of frustration.

The girl felt her body go hot with rage, and she made no effort of concealing the bitterness in her sour toned reply.

“Bold of you to assume anyone would care enough to ask me to keep tabs on you, don’t you reckon?”

His eyes were on her again. This time they were upset. She didn’t care.

“And anyways,” she pressed on, “are you insinuating that it would’ve worked? That I would be willing to play someone’s puppet to spy on you, and that you, Draco Malfoy, would have let me?”

Draco’s white skin paled further, his lower lip trembling as he prepared his response and leaned close into the bookshelf that separated them. He said his next words slowly, his reply coming slow and sharp like a pointed blade making a clear entrance through flesh, “where am I now?”

Her beating heart went still in her chest, her aggravated demeanor regressing into something softer instantaneously. The implication behind his words sunk into her skin and electrified her blood.

Where am I now?

She just stared at him. The look in his eyes was like one she’d never seen before. It was genuine. Genuine and raw. And pleading, almost.

His words swam fast laps around her mind, making her dizzy. Unable to process whatever emotion it was that had crawled its way from his lips and into her, she rejected it.

The girl slammed her charms book shut abruptly, making heads turn. Draco flinched back in surprise as the girl made her not so discreet march around the shelves and towards him. He moved smoothly in reply, his shoulder lifting from its slump as he stood straight and tall, his white brows knitted against the creases of his forehead. There was a hot fire roaring in her chest and she had no intention of quelling it as she planted her feet firm before him, tilting her chin up so that she could reach the view of those alarmed grey eyes.

“For your information,” she hissed between her teeth, “nobody told me to because I told myself to. I saw something different in you. Me.”

Draco clenched his jaw, hard. So hard she could see its pulse against the lower curvatures of his face. He wore the look of a wounded animal, plus a sort of sneer.

“Why?” he leaned closer, the word like salt on his tongue as he towered over her. “Hm?” his voice inclined in challenge.

They’d never been this close before, and it was terrifying. But the shockwave of about ten different emotions had slapped the girl up and she’d decidedly chosen to ride its high.

“Funny,” she felt her own teeth grind roughly against each other, “I was just asking myself the same thing.”

He was hurt by her words, she knew that much. But rather than show it he simply receded as would be expected, turning instead to rage. His eyes narrowed with distaste as he scoffed and spat his reply with a shake of his head.

“Tell Potter to try again.”

“You’re a fool,” she retorted.

“Am I?” he snapped back. “It’s not me who's got a moron and a mudblood for a best friend is it?”

They weren’t all too discreet now. Eyes from all across the library watched as the two had their less than silent quarrel. The girl, practically alight in flames, stared daggers into Malfoy, who stood smug over her and had sunk his long ring-clad fingers into the emerald green folds of his robe. He gave her a sour smile, the sickly kind of lopsided one that a bully would, and leaned down so that their eyes were level.

“Nothing else to say?” he dared.

That’s when it occurred to her. That’s when she’d noticed. Being as close as they were, Malfoy’s aroma had hit her nostrils hard, and the dark cologne and fresh mint that wafted from his slender frame went first to her lungs, then her brain, then her heart. She knew that smell. She’d recognized it from earlier in the day when it had wafted forth from the amortentia. The realization shocked her into a stillness that made her face drop and pulse pause. How it could be that the boy she loathed beyond measure could have such an effect on her? She was unsure, but it had sent her mind spiralling into all kinds of oblivion.

Draco seemed to notice, his brows lowering just a little, his tone softening ever so slightly, “well?”

Her heart had fired back up, now galloping in her chest as she sucked in a sharp breath and let out a pathetic wordless stutter.

“I- I have to go,” she mumbled, her fingers trembling as she clutched the leather bound charms book tight to her chest.

Draco looked disappointed. Maybe because he cared. Or maybe just because he enjoyed a good fight. Either way, the question was left unanswered as he regained his composure, aligning his shoulder stiffly upright and letting his mouth hang slightly upon in wordless confusion as the girl practically bolted out of sight in a flash of black and gold. He stood there, sitting in the silence as the eyes around him went slowly back to their papers. But he just continued to stand there, even a minute later, and a few minutes after that. Many minutes later, finally, he made his slow and quiet descent out of the library.

. . .

Outside, the girl had flown down corridors and up stairs, her boots chasing the beat of her racing heart. Her smooth hair whipped fast around her eyes, which burned a light crimson and stung her lightly. The events of the last few minutes were playing in her mind like tapes as she went, over and over. And they would continue to do so long into the night. For hours after disappearing up to bed she’d lain on her back and just stared holes into the high ceilings while she thought. It had reached the early hours of the morning when she’d decided; if Draco Malfoy wanted to be taken down so badly, maybe she would be the one to do it after all.

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