#so I guess they just declared common cause for the night

[domaslut]

LOVE ME LIKE YOU.

Starring: Merula Snyde x f!reader

Warnings: none, just fluff!

Plot: you have to pick a date for the incoming Ball and all of your friends seem to have suddenly picked an interest in you. No one, however, made you feel as alive as Merula did. After a tormented night spent wide awake in your bed, you finally confront and confess your feelings to the lovely brat you have fallen in love with.

REQUESTED BY: @btvdc

VALENTINE’S DAY EVENT: “LOVE ME LIKE YOU”.

Quote: “Last night, I laid in bed so blue 'Cause I realized the truth They can't love me like you I tried to find somebody new Baby, they ain't got a clue Can't love me like you”.

﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏

“Let me guess… You haven’t picked a date yet, have you?” Tonks quizzically inquired, plopping down on the empty seat next to you.

“Bingo” you shortly replied, fidgeting with the umpteenth note you had received since the beginning of the week. Where did all of these secret admirers come from? Further more, why did they not sign their gushing letters, if they desperately yearned to be your date for the Ball? You were officially done with them and the absurd situation they were putting you through.

Your pink-haired friend chuckled and propped her chin over her hand, her bright eyes scanning the Great Hall in search for a potential candidate to accompany you to the infamous Ball “What about Andre? He has declared countless times that you’re his muse… I wouldn’t be surprised, if one of these notes has been sent by him?” she observed, pursuing her lips at you.

You averted your droopy eyes from the note to your ravenclaw friend, who was currently showing a new, expensive fabric to a rather joyful Penny. Well, maybe Tonks was not wrong about Andre… But the blonde potioneer was probably one of the other anonymous senders. You thought you had recognized her calligraphy earlier and, judging by the languid glances she was directing to you from across the room, there was no doubt about it. Penny had a crush on you.

“You’re probably right, but I’m not interested in him… And, for what can matter, I’m not going to choose Penny either. – you said, folding your arms over your chest – She’s way too sweet and pure to be my perfect match” you clarified, lolling your head back in dispair.

At this point, you had almost given up on going to the Ball. If a romantic experince had to turn into a stressful loop of anxiety and dissatisfaction, you would have rather spent the night locked up in your dorm, cuddling your pets.

Tonks snickered and stood up, shooting a knowing look at you “Ouch, poor Penny... Well, then I guess I should probably let you know that Tulip heard Talbott and Badeea talking about you in the ravenclaw common room yesterday. – she casually informed you, stretching her arms over her head – Actually, they were arguing. I mean, isn’t it weird? They’re both so calm and rational, then again they’ve lost control over you!”.

Your left eye twitched, your hand ripped up the note in your hand at the shocking revelation. When did she think it was the right time to let you know about it? Not that you were going to consider them as an option in the first place, but you would have surely avoided them down the corridors earlier. Any kind of interaction would have been detrimental in your desperate search for the right date.

“Tonks! – you whined, stomping your foot as a sign of irritation – Is there something else you wish to tell me?” you rhetorically asked her, palming your forehead.

She shook her head and turned her back at you “Nah, I’mma go to bed. And you should do the same!” she replied, ambling towards the exit calmly, as if she had not just dropped a bomb.

She was right. Maybe you were just too tired. And, maybe, you had already made up your mind. You knew who your heart desired, who you enjoyed sharing your meals, or butterbeers with. You had a fling with her. Nothing official, yet something important. You had not kissed many times. Actually, you had barely kissed. However, the way your lips brushed over hers, and the fact that the spark igniting your heart that very night was still vividly stuck in your mind were a clear sign that you were in love with her.

Dragging your feet along the floor, you made your way to your dorm and slipped under the covers without even changing into a proper attire. You were too stressed, too nervous and you struggled to fall asleep for hours. You tossed and turned continously, as you tried to make up your mind. You were conscious that, if you decided to pick her as your date for the ball, this time it would have been forever.

“Fuck it, alright?” you cussed, rolling on your back and staring at the ceiling.

Did anyone else make you feel the way she did? No. Was there someone else residing 24/7 in your mind? Of course no…

“Well… Maybe Barnaby? Argh, who am I kidding? He is always so sweet with me. Just stop, Y/N! I love her! There is no going back. I choose her” you said, maybe a little bit too loud, considering it was 2 o’ clock in the morning. One of your roommate groaned out in frustration and threw a pillow in your direction, that you easily dodged.

“Shut the hell up and ask her out. I wanna sleep...” she ranted, slithering back underneath the blankets to try to get some sleep.

The morning after, you met her at breakfast. You had a very hard time to approach her, especially when Ismelda shot daggers in your direction and seemed to be a minute away from jinx you. Your purple-eyed crush, on the other hand, had no troubles in glaring at her and making you the center of her attention.

“So, what’s the matter? Have you slept last night?” she commenced, cocking her head to the side.

You rolled your eyes at her and rubbed the back of your neck in distress “Please, Merula, don’t make things so damn complicated. – you complained, locking eyes with her – Be my date. I … I’d very much like it, if you just said yes” you blurted out, cheeks flushing up as she stared at you dumbfounded.

“Are you serious?” she asked, blinking skeptically at you.

“Yes, I am”.

“Prove it then” she challenged you, folding her arms against her chest.

You chewed on your lower lip in nervousness, fists clenched at your sides as you pondered her request. You were there, opening your heart to her, making the first step, and she had the audacity of teasing you? Was it not clear enough that you were serious about your proposal? Yet, that side of her personality, what most of your friends loathed about her, was exactly what drove you crazy.

“I love you” you simply quipped then, watching her lips parting in disbelief. Yet, you were done playing games. Sticking up to your intent to make your relatioship official, you cupped her heart-shaped visage in your hands and smashed your lips against her ones.

That was the kiss you had dreamt about for years. That was the kiss you craved and the one you could not wait up until midnight to finally steal from her. Merula was completely shocked, as if a lightning had struck her and she was left fuzzy and disoriented right after it.

“No one is quite like you” you breathed out, pressing your forehead against hers.

She blushed, pulling you in for another brief kiss “I get to have the last word, though. Don’t forget it” she joked, winking at you.

You chuckled and took a step back, bowing your head as a sign of resignation to her umpteenth declaration of her supremacy “See you tonight, miss Snyde”.

AUTHOR NOTE.

Hi there!

Happy Valentine’s Day, guys! This is the first request I had got from my “Valentine’s Day Event”. I will publish the other ones in the next few days. I hope you have enjoyed this drabble♥️

And, if you cannot find me online on tumblr, just text me on my wattpad account: Domaslut! I hang on that platform quite a bit❤️

x o x o

#merula x jacob's sibling #merula snyde x reader #merula snyde x mc #merula snyde #harry potter hogwarts mystery #harry potter hogwarts legacy #harry potter hogwarts game #harry potter series #hogwarts mystery #gryffindor #slyherin #ravenclaw #penny haywood #barnaby lee #felix rosier #tulip karasu #rowan khanna

[not-goldy]

Some Jkk are too scared to be serious, but this is how I felt ever since Jk went live and reacted to Jimin after he replied Me too on Jimin's miss you post. So one could say cool, he misses Jimin and he's promoting his solo work like a friend and bandmate would. HOWEVER, that is not what JK did. He turned it up a notch and PURPOSELY blushed, giggled, kicked his feet, stared with heart eyes, gushed and listened to love songs in between switching videos. This to me, is flat out OTT baiting if he doesn't feel some type of way about Jimin, cause he purposely acted that way knowing the camera was on him. I have had Jkk tell me its not baiting, right, if he's in love its not, but if not, to me it was suggestive in his actions, meant to get a reaction to him and Jimin and it worked and only he knows why. Even worse would be if he he's not queer but knows Jimin is and how Jimin use to feel about him and did that. I don't believe this though. I believe Jk is queer and I think the man is in love with jimin. That said, Locals were even talking about that live. Not to mention it dropped during Jk's CK clip/ambassador announcement. So they were trending with 250,000 or more tweets cause of that ad on top of his Jimin live. Ever since then I have been observing Jikook too and then JK kept coming on and doing it. Kept bringing up Jimin, even their past trip. I also look at the timing, when JK's new hang out buddy Tae was busy with his girlfriend Jennie everytime she came back from tour and Tae would go MIA. I just hope it wasn't a case of Jk just looking for company cause he was lonely cause he got ditched by his older bro for his girlfriend. TK would be hanging out while Jennie was gone, but then Jk would always show he was alone when Jennie came back. Maybe its why Jimin kept turning Jk down. Maybe he knew it. Who knows at this point. One thing I learned is Tae is proof you can bait fans into thinking you are dating your bandmate by being over the top clinging and namedropping every 5 seconds, while you have an entire secret girlfriend for 2 years no one knew about til a hacker got angry. Look at festa dinner. His clinginess to Jk had tkk declaring they were married and 3 days later he was caught with jennie in Jeju and confirmed by her leaked pics. A whole mess. I would have left town if I were a tkk and never looked back. What a slap in the mouth (deserved tho, they definitely deserved that slap to reality). I just don't ever want to see this with jikook and it turn out to be the case. I might throw up.

He's leading Jimin on??????

Funny how I used to think Jimin was the one leading him on 😂

"It's worse if he's not queer and he acts like that knowing hoe Jimin feels about him."

I think the same and actually used to say the same thing since day one of their ship inception but in reverse order I guess.

Can you DM me? I would like to go back and forth on this with you. I don't enjoy writing lengthy blogs at this point in my life.

Here's JKs profile

Shy teenage boy thrust into the midst of boys he older boys he respects and admires. He's still trying to figure out what romantic feelings are, what he finds attractive, sexually provocative, and what his sexuality is.

Here comes a hyung closer in age to him that looks- androgynous, is good with expressing himself, isn't shy to speak out and perform infront of everyone. At night he's nice to cozy up to and snuggle- and sometimes they do that naked.

It feels good but he's not sure what it is he's feeling. He just knows they spend a lot of late nights doing nothing in particular and he enjoys it. They have a lot in common, and he's emotionally supportive and creates space around him for him to be himself.

He's falling but he doesn't know it yet.

Then there's the hyung in particular, goofy as fuck messing with things he doesn't understand. He's tempting faith and he doesn't know it. Each time he pokes at this younger Maknae thinking he's in control he's not. Now he's acting a fool pretending he's on top of things. But when he pretends kisses him, he looses his balance. His heart is beating in his chest faster than he can handle.

But he's stubborn. He's not in love and it's not even a crush. Yet he can't stay away either. He can't stop. The teasing back and forth, the push and pull is getting to him. Now doesn't feel like joke when he's being teased back. Now it feels like micro rejection and he stuck wondering why this younger friend keeps pushing away. He wants to be close.

They both dancing around naked fires.

The little boy is getting a hang of it. He's sure he's not into girls. He's sure there's something between him and his beautiful hyung. He's recklessly falling and he's not afraid to fall. He's ready to quit. He can be a dancer. He doesn't have to sing. He doesn't have to be in a band. He doesn't have to hide who he is.

The hyung on the other hand, this his dream. He's worked hard to be here. He works even harder than any one else just to be on the team. He can't risk it. He's not impulsive, he's not young and stupid. He's a hyung. People have expectations of him and he can't let any one down.

He writes it on his ribs- nevermind. But it's easier said than than. He's falling and this is the moment of his youth. It's epic. But he's worried the curtains will eventually fall and they'd have to face reality.

To the best of my knowledge this is Jikook.

Do you see where in this narrative of mine Jungkook is the one stringing Jimin along??

It's always been Jimin with the ball in his court really😩

I'm gonna shed a few tears, I'll come back and read the rest of your post- can you break it into two asks so it's easier for me to respond to the 2nd part separately?

[thescrumptiousstuffs]

Only Friends, Episode 8 - Save Me

In which Mew goes on a destructive streak (on himself), Ray is not helping the situation, Top is a sad puppy, Cheum has enough while Sand attempts to again put some boundary with Ray (and failing)

Mew

Well…he truly went into a bender after breaking up with Top. It’s clear he is still devastated by Top’s betrayal and him getting together with Ray is partly revenge, partly because Ray has always been the one person (in his group of friends) who loves him unconditionally, and currently Mew needed the affirmation he is desired and attractive (remember he proclaimed to Ray he think he is “boring and plain” in the bookstore - and Ray immediately replying “You are delectable.”) - yeah, that tells us Mew’s self-esteem has gone down the drain after knowing Top/Ton slept together (recall he kept thinking they got together because he was inexperienced and from his perspective laughing behind his back, we know it’s not true but well Mew judgement is somewhat impaired for now).

So, having Ray who put him at a pedestal and has never said no to him is good for his self-esteem…just terrible for everything else 😫😩…in some way, Mew is using Ray to “gain access” to all the risky behaviours that Ray engages in - getting drunk, smoking, partying daily and trying Coke - notice Ray never “introduce” it to Mew (and I will disagree with Twitter/Tumblr people who said so, because it’s always Mew who initiated it, BUT Ray enables them, also notice Ray was the one who asked whether Mew is sure he wants to try smoking cause it was also Mew who nag him to quit before)…

Similarly, the scene in the bookstore - you can see with flashbacks, Mew is deeply missing Top. And when Ray came over, the conversation led to Mew again being the instigator for the Halloween Party, informing Ray he wants “to get drunk, and party all night long.”

The fact that he couldn’t even bring himself to reciprocate Ray’s declaration of love (and he admits it - “you are the one I should love”) or kiss him in private is also another clear sign that Mew is not over Top. It was only when Top is in front of him, he made a huge scene (partly also driven by him already drunk and high) that he impulsively kisses Ray to prove a point (on a side note, that was a good kiss boys! - so KhaoBook series in 2024 anyone? 🫣)

I’m not sure how much he will spiral further but if he wants to keep his honour student status, well, I guess the next few episodes will tell us whether Top can bring him back to reality - I have hope for this especially because when Mew drunkenly but brokenly told Top “Why must you be an asshole?” before passing out on Top’s shoulder, Top tenderly looked at Mew.

Top

Which brings me to Top. He has truly eaten the humble pie this episode, and I felt sorry for him. Yes, he was (most likely still) arrogant and can be an asshole, but he truly does seem to connect with Mew and loves him. His mistake was to take what Ton said in face value and slept with him due to bruise ego (and I’m glad he told Ton off during the party - gawd the latter still tried to take a jab on Top’s fall from the grace by nastily implying Ray/Mew has slept together many times - firstly so not true cause Mew can’t even kiss Ray in private, and secondly not his business if they did sleep together)

Top looking at Mew concernedly from the outside because he knows the current behaviours are uncharacteristic for the latter (also perhaps a touch of guilt as he is likely aware at some stage he is responsible for Mew going into a downward spiral because of his encounter with Ton)

I applaud Top on him continuously trying to make amend with Mew, discussing the situation with Chuen and also helping out with the Ray situation (because let’s be real, he did not help Ray out for Ray himself, more for Mew/Chuem, although bribing the police force??? 😩🫠🫠🫠🫠… I do not condone that. Also, is it common for rich people to carry chunk of cash to party like that?? Why can’t he help the legal way?? Urgh..don’t mind me, I’m just ranting out loud now)

Anyway, it was sweet of Top to bring Mew back safely to his house and clean him up after the party, but hemm…cuddling and sleeping with Mew after that (yeah, again not a good idea as at the present time Mew has broken up with him and never gave him permission for Top to sleep in the same bed/cuddle with him)

Ray

As much I love Ray (and kudos fo Khaotung who brings this complex, multi-facet individual to life, I also feel if anyone else played him, not many of us will be as emphatic towards him), his actions in this episode, yeah…left me wincing and shaking my head at times.

Ray unfortunately has yet to accept his alcohol/drug abuse is an issue and it’s affecting his relationships with everyone - be it Mew, Sand, Chuen and Boston. It doesn’t help at baseline, he is depressed and a lonely individual, which in turns shape him to be selfish and clinging hard to anyone who showers him with any positive attention.

Mew is one such individual for Ray - the fact Mew was there at the lowest point for him definitely made Ray sees him in rose tinted glasses. Whatever Mew wants and says, Ray will follow (especially when it lines up with what he normally does - the drinking, partying, smoking, drugs etc.) When they are not a couple, it’s easier for Mew to lecture on Ray’s bad behaviour (albeit unsuccessfully), but now with Mew joining in the chaos, Ray’s destructive behaviours are going further into hellhole (I also find it interesting Ray seems so aware he is not first choice for Mew - “At least he let me cross the friend zone line”, “We are seeing if we can work things out” - these 2 sentences when he had the conversation with Sand outside the bar are very telling. Similarly, he didn’t even look surprised when Mew couldn’t say back he loves Ray. It seems Ray consciously chose to be with Mew cause he is the “safer” option when compared to Sand cause he at least knows how Mew will behave towards him while Sand is largely still unknown)

Sand is another person Ray connects deeply. The one person who has time after time help him without any transactional gains. And it’s interesting to note Ray’s destructive behaviours are somehow mellowed/lessened when Sand is around. Sand appears to be Ray moral compass. He genuinely listen to what Sand says (even more than he listen to Mew, although I don’t think Ray recognises this). Ray persistency in seeking out Sand (be it in the bar and uni) is exasperating on Sand behalf who is trying his hardest to put a guard around his heart - but well, Ray has the most effective puppy eyes I have ever seen and he uses this in good effect. Ray himself acknowledges he feels good in himself when around Sand, and he is certainly possessive of Sand’s attention (more so than he was with Mew, in my humble opinion). I think it’s clear now, Ray is truest and most honest when he is high/drunk - because his filter is completely gone. So, him putting himself between Sand and Mr Freddie Mercury, followed by him bluntly saying he knows Sand has feelings for him, and that Sand will never leave him (I also think he is projecting his own feelings towards Sand here..) - yup it’s him telling Sand to be honest about his feelings towards Ray (I'm not justifying Ray behaviour here - he should not have kissed Sand without consent and it was cruel for Ray to bring up Sand feelings out in the open like that - but as we have learn, Ray lashes out when he is angry (also, I think there is a hint of panic on Ray's behalf that Sand will leave him, just like his mom left him and he perceiving his dad abandoning him)

Sand

Sand is truly living up to his moniker of "best boy" ever. He got his heart broken into pieces by Ray when the latter decided to attempt a relationship with Mew. Time and time again he attempts to put a barrier around his heart and set some boundary with Ray - but as we can see, Ray is hard individual (for Sand) to resist. I know a lot of us thinks Sand can do better than Ray - but well, the heart wants what the heart wants, yeah? (also doesn't help that each SandRay scene has the yearning and intimate feel that I can't help root for them - even when they are fighting cause you can see them fighting their attraction here, maybe cause it's played by FK?) - for e.g the scene between SandRay outside the bar, you could tell Sand was holding back tears and his voice break a little, and Ray clocked on it - the latter touched his arm, wanting to stop Sand from going while Sand asking to let go... urghh, my heart breaks from them.

And even after the massive fight between the 2 of them at the party, Sand's first concern when the police busted the scene is to find Ray - knowing the latter will be in further trouble if he is caught with drugs. And Sand, attempting to lie for Ray about the drugs to the police or him pleading the latter to stay still when the police put Ray on a chokehold with a knee on his windpipe...

On a side note, I also find it interesting the difference between how Sand and Mew treats Ray and his risky behaviours. I can't really articulate it properly but Sand seems to recognise Ray needs to take the first step if he wants to change for the better but Sand will be on standby and support him when he does. Mew, on the other hand (until this episode) while also being supportive tends to be more condescending. I think because Mew comes from a stable family, he can't understand at the base level why Ray can't change/stop his destructive behaviours easily.

Btw, I also love SandNick friendship - them bonding on their failed relationships and one-sided loves is just.... 🥺🥺🥺

Boston

Ton is keeping a low profile this episode. He knows he is now the outcast in his group of friends, and they are barely tolerating him. But oh, him drinking alone and looking at Nick's picture on the phone - is that a hint of some feelings towards Nick???

But just as when I thought there is some redeemable quality for Ton... he again prove to be the most consistent character in this series so far. Him nastily jabbing on Top at the party, insinuating Ray/Mew have slept together countless of time???? (urghhh, Ton seriously?)

Or him leaving with Atom (his brother's friend!!!! - I cringed at the end of episode 8) and from the preview of the next episode - yup it appears he did the deed with Atom (look, I'm not saying Atom did not play a role in this - that boy was clearly hitting on Ton and despite Chuem warning Atom, he made the conscious decision to leave the party with Ton). But the whole situation is just terrible (and if Ton has some decency, he would have decline Atom's invitation but oh well...we all know what Ton is like). I can already tell the whole Atom/Ton situation will also implode with Atom as the casualty.

Nick

Well, at least his working career is on the right path because his love life with Ton has sunk to the bottom of the ocean. Him approaching and attempting to make amend with Ton at the party - urghhh, again the heart wants what the heart wants, yes? - But I hope it gives some closure for Nick to move on with his life and put Ton firmly in the past (I'm actually not holding my breath on this, but we will see).

And now Nick with Dan (Papang's character) - well, that's a whole new dynamic that will be interesting to see. It's clear Dan is interested in Nick, but hemmmm....I'm not sure having a relationship with your own intern is morally ok due to the power difference between the 2 of them (it's giving me the ABAB vibe except more serious???). Also, Dan seems to have a daddy kink (I mean he asked Nick to call him "Daddy Dan" if the next episode preview is correct), and err, I'm not sure I'm into that.

Namchuem and April

Poor Chuem is at her wits end with the group of boys this week. For obvious reasons she is barely communicating with Ton. And now with Mew on a destructive streak, it seems she has lost the one stable force in their circle of friendship. So, I am not surprised she teams up with Top to get back Mew on the right path.

Some people in Twitter/Tumblr may say Chuem barely cares for Ray - I think she does, but Chuem is self-aware she cannot control Ray's habits. And up until this episode, she appears to rely on Mew to do the “handling” of Ray’s bad habits. Could she have done more? Sure, but also remember most of us in our early 20s can barely handle our own problems let alone someone with complex issues like Ray (and this is again why someone like Sand is so special - despite him being the same age as the everyone else, he appears more mature/grounded, doesn’t take shit from anyone and genuinely seems to love Ray in all his drunken mess). Also, personally, I don’t think Cheum is as close to Ray (when compared to Mew), and if Mew could barely control Ray, what hopes does she has. And her asking Top to help out Ray because he doesn't want Ray to go into jail (well, if that is not her caring for Ray on some level, I'll eat my metaphoric hat)

So, her bursting out in anger and ranting her frustrations towards Ray, I don't blame her at all- because it is true, in their circle of friendship, Ray has always prioritise Mew with Chuem most of the time as an afterthough. I'm not sure whether she blames Ray for Mew behaviours (and if she does - that is one thing I will say she shouldn't be doing cause all of Mew downward spirals are initiated by Mew and Mew alone, except Ray is there as an enabler)

Anyway, I'm glad Chuem has April - cause the latter, she is a GEM. Supportive and truly the best GF anyone can ask. Also, some wise word from April when she pointed out the boys are adults and can make their own decisions (even if those decisions leads to catastrophic consequences). They as friends can try and advise, but ultimately, it will be up to the boys to accept said recommendations or not.

As usual, this episode has left me with so many feelings and emotions. The above is me again just getting my thoughts straight before the next episode. It seems episode 9 will be "fluffier" but if we are getting SandRay reconciliation, I want Ray to at least have a proper conversation with Mew before doing so.

(Again kudos to all the cast members who you can tell act their hearts out - my personal favourite moments include SandRay conversation outside the bar and when Mew brokenly told Top "why must you be an asshole?" - cause both First and Book conveyed their heartbroken state through their eyes in those scenes superbly well)

#only friends the series #episode 8 #khaotung thanawat #first kanaphan #book kasidet #force jiratchapong #neo trai #mark pakin #lookjun bhasidi #nonnie pitchaporn #title kirati #papang phromphiriya #firstkhao #sandray #topmew #bostonnick #OF summary #summary

[dayseternal-blog]

do you know any good modern au fanfic? it's better slowburn since i love read something long. thank you

I generally don't often read slow burn... I tried to compile here all of the longest modern aus I've ever read.

Multi-chapter Modern AU NaruHina

“Serenity Prayer” by @katarinahime - Rated E for domestic abuse, substance abuse, and smut, Modern AU, Multi-chapter, Ongoing.  In the midst of picking themselves up from failed marriages, Hinata and Naruto cross paths years after losing touch with each other. 

“Common Side Effects” by @katarinahime  & “Medicated” by @szajnie - Rated E for a lot of things, Crime/Modern AU, Multi-chapter, Incomplete. Naruto and Hinata, in a struggling relationship, must confront the pain inside before they can love each other.

“21 Days” by @bunny-hoodlum - Rated E includes dub-con, Modern AU, Multi-chapter, Incomplete. Anonymous internet friends decide to meet up IRL and give each other their first times.

“Gilded Butterflies” by Kid Crisis - Rated M for depictions of violence and miscarriage tw, Modern AU, Multi-chapter, Incomplete. Tenshi, beautiful prostitute of the Villa, realized from a very young age that people seem to do nothing but empty her, and not even Naruto seems capable of convincing her otherwise.

“put on your warpaint” by @borzbois - Rated M, Tattoo Artist/College AU, Multi-chapter, Incomplete. Hinata meets a stranger with beautiful tattoos. She never could have guessed the turn her life would take when she asked to draw him.

“If You are the Sun I’ll be the Moon” by vinczu - Rated T, Modern Soulmate AU, Multi-chapter, Complete. Hinata is afraid, she really is. Naruto after three years of military service is finally back, and she is happy. She really is. But she can’t touch him, she just can’t what if he isn’t her soulmate. What if he is.

“I want you to cry” and its sequel “I want you” by Devahhole - Rated E for graphic murder, dub-con/non-con, and smut, High School AU, Multi-chapter, Ongoing. A sociopath blinded by revenge runs into his greatest opponent.  

“Fatal Attraction” by aisha12894 - Rated M for character death, Crime AU, Multi-chapter, Complete. Hinata’s life was simple. Yet all of that changed when she witnessed a most heinous crime, which caused her to be the subject of numerous threats on her life. She most now trust her life in the hands of a certain blonde haired blue eyed cop.

“You love like you’ve always been lonely” by @linisen - Rated E for smut and referenced rape in the past, Modern AU, Multi-chapter, Complete.  After a party-gone-wrong, Hinata decides to disappear for good.  A decade later, Naruto finds her.

“Second Chances” by enzhe - Rated T, High School AU, Multi-chapter, Complete. Namikaze Naruto was abducted, then declared dead. Twelve years after he disappeared, his parents find him: now a scrappy, reckless teenager, with good friends, a lot of trauma, and ties to the murderous, anarchist Nine-Tails gang. As the family tries to put itself together, trust breaks, hurts heal, and the power struggles that led to Naruto’s abduction resurface.

“Missed Years” by Rinne-Kami - Rated T, Modern AU, Multi-chapter, Incomplete. The act of one night gave birth to their future. And now, with years past since that one night, they were left with years to return. Seven years of love to find, seven years of trust to rebuild, and seven years of fatherhood to return.

“I Met You at the Sex Shop AU” by @journalsofagoddess - Rated M, Modern AU, Multi-chapter, Incomplete. Prompt #169: “I work at a sex toy shop and you come in frequently so I assume you have a significant other, but you just like coming in to make fun of how weird the toys are” AU. They both never really thought that their encounter would lead to more…fun and happy times.

“Opposites Attract” by KyuubiLover100 - Rated E, Yakuza AU, Multi-chapter, Incomplete. Citizens of Konoha all know that “The Light cannot exist without casting its Shadow.” It’s the unspoken system that the city runs on. Everyone knows their place and their roles. Those in the Shadows do what those in the Light cannot. Uzumaki Naruto knows this and has known this since he was young. Hyuuga Hinata knows this as well and understands her Father’s wished, but still…

“The Cinderella Makeover Naruto Style” by CharismaHarmony - Rated M, Modern AU, Multi-chapter, Complete. When Hinata’s best friend, Naruto said that she wasn’t the type of woman men fall in love with, she bet him 1000 she’d have a marriage proposal in 3 months.

“The Lustful Maid” by HoneyWriter78 - Rated E, Modern AU, Multi-chapter, Complete. Hinata Hyuga wakes up in an unknown room on an unknown bed, after one of the most worst days of her life. Her only memory is knocking into a tall blonde handsome guy with her juice spilled over him! Was it a dream? I think not as now she has signed a contract to be his very own personal maid!

“Pink Chiffon” by @scalding-coffee-cup - Rated M, Modern AU, Multi-chapter, Complete. During the day, she wears pink chiffon and nude pumps; her glossed lips curve into an innocent smile. At night, she struts down the alleyway in black stilettos and wears a scowl on her red lips. The pistol is her most expensive accessory.

“The Girl in the Elevator” by TheseFourWords - Rated G, Modern AU, Multi-chapter, Complete. AU in which Naruto and Hinata live in the same building take the same elevator on their way to work each morning but are too shy to speak to each other.

“Serial Killer” by Raven Young - Rated M, Modern AU, Multi-chapter, Incomplete. She’s a Sociopath. She’s a Supermodel. She’s a serial killer. She’s a girl in love. She is Hinata Hyuga. And he is her undoing.

“Hard Love” by HoneyWriter78 - Rated E for smut and non-con (includes Sakura-bashing), Gangs AU, Multi-chapter, Incomplete. Hinata Hyuga was always kept within her father’s estate. Until her father comes home after losing everything. A powerful family comes and she makes her escape only to be caught and handed to the son.

“Echoes of Silence” by @ellaroundpanda - Rated E, BDSM Modern AU, Multi-chapter, Ongoing. Hinata Hyuga was trapped. Her relationship with Toneri was leading to nowhere and she wanted to find a new Dom. Naruto Uzumaki seemed to be the answer to all her prayers, but her fiancé wouldn’t give up that easily…

If anyone can think of other long modern aus, please add them!

#anon #naruhina fanfic recs #naruhina modern au

[late-to-the-fandom]

Hallow's End Ember Court is fancy dress. There's some confusion about who's who. There's no prizes for guessing, but I'd still love to know if you do! Rated G for Happy Hallow's End Drabble. Read here on Ao3 for triggers and tags

"I confess, I am rather shocked," said the Maw Walker, her expressionless face belying her words. "I didn't expect Revendreth to embrace Hallow's End so readily."

"Oh, we Venthyr welcome any excuse for celebration!" exclaimed Duke Theotar. The candlelight emanating from the enormous carved pumpkins behind the Duke threw the shadow of his exuberant gesticulation across the uneven ground. "And any excuse for fancy dress!"

The "Mad" Duke fixed his comically large hat more securely atop his carefully arranged hair, and the Maw Walker smiled fondly. The expression cracked the perfect up-turned lines of painted black stitches that extended past her lips.

Renathal, watching, took another sip of tea. He was still deciding how he felt about her whole ensemble.

Costume courts were a beloved tradition in Revendreth, but they were usually an excuse to comport oneself as a dashing hero or specimen of exquisite beauty. Impressions of the Master were always popular, as a prime example of both*; although, Renathal noticed, with a critical glance around the courtyard, none of the Ember Court guests had been so bold. But apart from this obvious missing fixture, today's court contained the usual assortment of regally attired royalty and armored warriors customary to any Revendreth fancy dress event.

None whatsoever had chosen a disguise as unsettling as the Maw Walker's, with its eerily realistic stitches crisscrossing the planes of her exposed flesh. And it was causing a visible stir among the guests, many of whom stared openly at her whenever they passed Theotar's shaded tea corner.

"We seem to have quite a bit of lore in common," commented the Maw Walker, joining Renathal in surveying the rest of the courtyard over the rim of her undrunk tea. "I believe I recognise many of the costumes. Including yours."

She ran an appraising eye over the Dark Prince's uncharacteristic black clothes. Renathal, momentarily distracted, swept his cape out with a melodramatic flourish that made Maw Walker laugh behind her cup.

"So, you are familiar with the story?" said Renathal smugly.

"Yes, it was very popular at one time. Someone even set it to music, I think, although I never saw it performed. And .... I confess, I can't remember your character's name."

"Really? But he is the protagonist!" declared Renathal in mock offense. "The brilliant musician who, in spite of his disfigurement, wins the heart of the realm's most talented ingenue, and spends his mortal life together with her creating the music of the night!"

It was a well-practiced little soliloquy. Renathal had worn this costume - or a more elaborate version - many times before. Behind him, the Duke had the good grace to applaud appreciatively.

The Maw Walker blinked.

"Are you sure that's how it ends?" she asked.

"Quite sure," sniffed Renathal. "The story is a personal favourite of mine. I have read it many times." He sipped thoughtfully at his tea before venturing, "Why do you ask?"

"I've just .... never heard it told that way."

"How have you heard it?"

"Well..." The Maw Walker wet her lips in hesitation. "I thought .... the masked man - whoever you are - kidnapped the girl. And then she was rescued by her true love and left the masked man to die in a fire."

There was a gasp and a splash of liquid from behind them as Theotar fumbled the milk jug.

"Surely not!" he cried, his pinched face even more ashen than usual.

Renathal, too, looked shocked.

"I am afraid you must be mistaken," he said firmly, adjusting his white half-mask to sit better on his face. "He would never have done such a thing, I am certain. He was the hero of the story, after all."

"Perhaps I'm thinking of a different tale, then," the Maw Walker conceded. She glanced quickly around at the Duke for a change of topic. "But I'm sure I know who you are. I would recognise the top hat anywhere."

"Well, I should hope, he is quite the well-known figure," said Theotar, dabbing spilled milk from his bare chest with a white handkerchief. "The wise counselor who, through his clear wit and good sense, helped the little lost girl Alex find her way back to her own realm." He deposited the handkerchief onto Gubbins' tray and smiled. "After treating her to a delicious tea, of course."

The Maw Walker tilted her head, brow now furrowed. An unusual show of confusion on her typically blank face.

"I don't think that's right either," she said, shaking her head. "The girl's name wasn't Alex. And your character wasn't wise, he was -"

Renathal interrupted before the Maw Walker could finish.

"If it is a story, then how can it be right or wrong?" 

"Because it didn't happen that way!"

"It didn't happen at all," Renathal countered. "They are stories. How can one depiction of a fantasy be more or less right than another?"

The Maw Walker opened her mouth to argue further, paused, then closed it abruptly. Her eyes glazed over in thought, and she brought her teacup to her lips vaguely. Renathal watched her fight back a grimace at the taste.

"I suppose you have a point," the Maw Walker said finally. She gave Renathal a deep nod as if conceding victory, her loose and oddly coloured hair swinging forward across her face.

"Of course!" said Theotar, approaching with the sugar bowl. "Why, there are as many interpretations of stories as there are souls who tell them! And you must tell us your versions in full, sometime."

The Maw Walker smiled - that warm, affectionate smile she saved for the 'Mad' Duke - and dutifully bent her knees so the smaller Venthyr could stir sugar into her cup.

"I think your versions sound better, to be honest."

Privately, Renathal agreed, but thought it bad manners to say so out loud. Instead, he indicated the Maw Walker's ragged dress with a wave of his hand.

"But who are you supposed to be? I am afraid I do not recognise your ..." He searched for an appropriate word. "Attire."

"Oh, let me guess!" said Theotar excitedly. He thrust the sugar bowl at the waiting Gubbins, then stepped back to take in the full effect of the Maw Walker's disguise. "You are ... a Maldraxxus abomination?"

"What? No!" The Maw Walker tugged self-consciously at her patch-work dress. "I am -" She paused for a moment, then continued more firmly. "I am the brave and intelligent heroine of an old, beloved story, whose advice to her realm's leader was immediately heard and obeyed, and through which she managed to stop her realm from invading several others."

Her little speech did not have quite the effortless delivery of Renathal's, but Theotar still made a point of clapping politely.

"Oh, well done!"

The Maw Walker accepted his praise with a self-mocking curtsey. 

"And will your hair return to normal once court is over, or is it ... red for the foreseeable future?" Renathal inquired as casually as he could manage.

"It's just an illusion," assured the Maw Walker. "Unless you'd like me to keep it like this longer?"

She caught Renathal's eye and gave a small wink. 

"I think I prefer its natural shade," murmured Renathal. He hadn't meant the words to come out so low, not while anyone else was present, but he did enjoy watching the Maw Walker eyes darken. 

"Ah, just look at us," said Theotar fondly, stepping between his two dear friends and cutting neatly through the developing tension. "Three exceptional heroes! Exquisite examples of lives well lived and happily ended!"

The Maw Walker smiled wistfully. "On Hallow's End, at least."

* Shout out to my mate @shipping-through-eternity for inspiring this particular little head canon and letting me use it!

Read Part 12: Keys for All Occasions: Cicatrix | Visit the Masterpost

#fanfiction #prince renathal #Renathal x Maw Walker #renathal x maw walker #writing #my writing #revendreth #ember court #Hallow's End #Theotar #Fancy dress #costume contest #who's who #the maw walker #shadowlands #venthyr #wow fanfiction #world of warcraft #heroes of hallow's end #light & shadows

[just-jordie-things]

A Lover And A Fighter - Richie Tozier

word count: 3122 warnings: swearing, sight sexual harassment summary: Richie promised (y/n) that he wouldn’t get into fights anymore, but sometimes he just can’t help himself.  Especially when it comes to protecting her.

___

It was an understatement to say that Richie was protective of you.  The boy was downright insane about it.  Everyone in Derry knew not to fuck with (y/n), not unless they wanted Richie Tozier tracking them down and beating them half to death.

You’d given him a talk numerous times.  But not once did they work, it always went in one ear and out the other..

He’d beaten up three ex boyfriends, a couple guys that looked at you the wrong way, and Greta Keene.  He was proud of that amount.

But he’d promised that he would try his best not to act out on your behalf anymore.  And you made him pinky promise.  That’s a big deal.  And he didn’t want to break your trust or your promise.

However… once he walked past Henry Bowers and his dumbass friends, and heard your name being mentioned, he couldn’t stop himself from getting involved.

“What was that?” He spoke before he could think things through.

The boys turned to him, each bearing a scowl that wasn’t out of character.

“I said, (y/n’s) not fucking worth it,” Henry practically growled out.  “Now why don’t you fuck off, Tozier?”

“Your damn fucking right it’s not worth it,” Richie spat back, turning away, doing the right thing.  “I’d break your goddamn nose” He muttered under his breath.

“It’s not worth it to try and get in her pants,” Henry called out before Richie could walk far enough away.

He stopped in his tracks.

“Cause she’s such a slut anyways, it’s not a real victory to fuck-”

Richie had never whipped around so fast.  And with the punch he delivered went all common sense, and all the promises and reassurances he’d given you to prove he was going to ‘mature’ as you’d begged him to do. ___

“Hey, Richie,” You held your phone between your ear and shoulder as you painted your toes.  “This is like, my fifth message… so… call me back, I guess.  Okay, bye”

You sighed as you set the phone back on it’s holster.  Richie wasn’t the type of guy to stand you up, especially on taco tuesday.  And even if something came up, he always always, called.  But now he couldn’t even bother to return one of your calls, leaving you to assume that he was upset with you for some reason, and therefore ignoring you.

You weren’t sure what you did, and at this point, you also weren’t sure that he was going to tell you either.

When Richie didn’t want to talk to someone, he was the damn best at avoiding them.

But he’d never given you the cold shoulder.  And there was a time that you’d thought he never would.  Richie was your best friend, you trusted and confided in him more than anyone else, even the other Losers.  And in the last seven years of being his best friend, he’d never treated you this way.  In fact, he always treated you amazingly, like a princess, it was very surprising actually, the way he cared about you.

It was that care that always led him to picking fights where he shouldn’t be, though.  It started with your ex boyfriend.  He broke up with you once a ‘better, prettier’ girl showed interest (his words), and the next thing you knew, Richie was throwing him against the lockers.

When your next boyfriend straight up cheated on you, Richie took care of him too.

He broke the third one’s nose.

And then there was the Greta Keene incident… Beverly may have let it slip that Greta had been writing nasty rumors about you in the girls bathrooms.  And Richie declared that he didn’t have a problem beating up a girl if it was justified (and if that girl had man arms).  That was when you drew the line, and made Richie swear to try and control his anger.  And he pinkie promised to work on it, and that he wouldn’t get into any more fights over you.

You weren’t sure why he got so enraged over these things.  It was just drama, and you found it pointless that he tried to bring you justice, since he was so reckless about it.

It was getting late, and you knew that Richie wasn’t going to return your calls.  So you finished painting your toenails blue, and decided to spend the night in your room, reading, alone.

Even though you should have been eating a bunch of tacos and gossiping with Richie.

Just as you got situated in bed, and had turned off the overhead light in exchange for the soft glow of your lamp on the bedside table, there was a knock on the window.

When you glanced over, you could tell it was Richie by his silhouette, and you frowned slightly.

Nonetheless, you got up and unlocked the window, before sliding it open.

“Where the hell have you been?” You asked.

He could tell that you couldn’t see his face very well.

“Busy, you gonna let me in?” He grinned.

“Richie, it’s-” You glanced over your shoulder to the alarm clock on your table, before glaring back at him.  “-midnight.  Are you kidding me? Did I do something to piss you off?”

“What? (y/n/n), no-”

“Then how come you were dodging all my calls? And you’re seven hours late?” You asked, crossing your arms over your chest..

Richie crawled in through the window, even though you hadn’t invited him in yet.  But he figured it was only a matter of time before you cave anyways.

Your distressed face disappeared as you caught sight of him now that he was in the light.  His left eye was bruising, and so was his right cheekbone.  Along with a split lip and a bloody nose, it was clear what had happened.

“Oh, Richie…” You mumbled, hand reaching up to cover your mouth as your eyes widened at the sight of him.  “Tell me you didn’t-”

“Look it’s not what you think-” Richie tried to protest.

“Don’t give me that shit”

He knew he fucked up, because you weren’t yelling.  Your voice was soft, and low.  You were heartbroken.

He stared down at the ground, too anxious to look at you anymore.  Not when you looked so disappointed in him.  

“You promised- you-you pinky promised me-”

“I know-! I know and I’m sorry, really, I’m really fucking sorry” He told you, desperately hoping that you’d forgive him.

You shook your head at him, and gestured for him to sit before you left the room.  Richie was the most frustratingly complicated person that you knew, and it drove you insane.  Why he couldn’t just walk away and not beat the shit out of people… you weren’t sure.  But it really hurt you that he didn’t even seem to try, and he broke his promise.

Richie was sitting on the side of your bed when you came back into the room.  He chuckled as he eyed the first aid kit in your hands, the same one that you’ve used the last four or five times you dealt with the aftermath of his episodes of rages.

“You don’t have t-”

“Yes I do” You cut him off and unpacked what you’d need.

You were upset, you were fuming, actually.  It angered you that Richie broke his promise, not even a month after making it.  That promise was important to you, because he was important to you.  And now here he was, waiting to be fixed up by you once again after he so stupidly, so recklessly got himself beaten to a pulp.

But no matter how angry you were, you remained silent.  Dabbing at the excess blood under his nose, which at least wasn’t bleeding anymore.  And when you were finished with his cheek, you moved on to rubbing cream over the bruise on his cheek.  Richie’s eyes fell shut as he sighed in relief at the feeling of the cool lotion, and your gentle fingers.

He knew your silence wasn’t a good thing.  In fact, it was the worst thing.  It meant he messed up beyond redemption.  And he’d never fucked up that bad before.  Sure, he’d pissed you off and frustrated you on the daily, but that was just the hallmark of his friendship, and it was never anything serious.  Just when he dragged you out in the middle of the night for slushies, or got you in trouble in class because he was running his mouth.  He’d never made you this genuinely upset before.

“(y/n)-”

“Save it” You muttered before he could even start with the apologies.

That was another hallmark of his friendship.  You knew what came next.  The apologies, the excuses, the begging for your forgiveness, followed by a playful ‘you know you love me, you need me’ and puppy dog eyes that you couldn’t refuse.  Except tonight, you might just be able to.

He took you by surprise when he didn’t protest, and snapped his mouth shut.  Your eyes met his for a moment, before you started applying a smaller amount of lotion on the bruise surrounding his eye.  It was going to look a lot worse in the morning, but this would help with the pain now.

You hated that your heart ached for him right now.  You hated that you wanted to cry and hold him and make him feel better.  Because you were so fucking mad-

“I don’t understand,” The words suddenly spilled out of your mouth, as if your mind just couldn’t take them swimming around in your head anymore.  “I just- I- I don’t fucking get it”

He nodded, ducking his head down, only for you to lift it back up by his chin and continue with the lotion.

“I care about you, dumbass, and all I asked, which I thought was simple, all I asked was for you to stop with the fighting-”

“I know” He mumbled back.

You stared at him skeptically, wondering if he really did know, or if he’d show up again in a few weeks with the same battered face and guilty look in his eyes.  Richie didn’t look back at you.  He couldn’t.

“Who?” You asked, trying to soften your voice so he wouldn’t whither away from you like he was doing right now.

“You’re not gonna like it” Richie answered, fingers pinching at your bedsheets in an attempt to distract himself.  From the pain that burned across his whole face, or from the intensity in your eyes, he wasn’t sure, but he needed the distraction.

He hadn’t had a smoke in months, but it sounded pretty damn good right now.

“Well, newsflash, I don’t like any of this,” You told him.  “But I think I deserve to at least know what happened”

Of course you do, Richie hung his head in his hands.  You deserve so, so much better.

You watched as he rubbed his palms over his eyes, and it took everything in your power not to take his hands and hold them in yours, to tell him it was okay and you forgave him.

“Bowers”

He muttered the single word without even looking at you.  But he didn’t have to look at you to know exactly what you looked like in that moment.  You probably had a dropped jaw and furrowed brows.  Disappointment, disgust, anger, all displayed in one heartbreaking look.

“Richie…” You murmured without meaning to.  “Why? Why would you-”

“I had to, okay?” He shot up suddenly.  “I know that you hate it, and as soon as I swung I- I knew I fucked up, but I had to”

You wanted to argue it, argue that there’s always another option, that he can always walk away.  But you bit your tongue.  Something about the way he spoke told you that there was more to this than his stupidity.

“I’m sorry, (y/n/n), I am.  But I… I don’t regret it”

Your heart sunk all the way down to your stomach.  Richie had such a toll on your emotions and he didn’t even know it.

“Tell me what happened” You said quietly, and shifted closer to him.

You wanted him to know he had your undivided attention, and that he should have the chance to at least explain what happened.  You pulled your leg up to rest on the mattress, and turned your body to face him.

Richie looked at you before looking back down at his hand, which was now fisted in your blankets.

“Richie,” You hummed, brows furrowing as you saw how reluctant he was to opening up.  “Tell me” The words were so soft, it was almost inaudible.

You wondered what Henry could have done that Richie didn’t want to tell you about.  He must have really outdone himself.

“He was just talking shit-”

“Richie,” You cut off his bullshit before he could even start.  “Come on, the truth”  

“It’s not-”

“I deserve to know, Tozier! Whatever it is, I don’t care, okay? Just tell me-”

“He said you weren’t worth sleeping with!”

Just like that, you’d gotten him to snap.

And you shut up instantly, shocked by the outburst.  His words processed slowly in your head.

“He said it wasn’t worth trying because you’re- because you’re a slut, and it wasn’t fucking true!” Richie continued to yell.  Not at you, he just couldn’t contain his own anger anymore.

And you thought you were pissed.

“Motherfucker had your name in his nasty fucking mouth and he was telling his buddies fucking lies and I couldn’t- fuck I couldn’t walk away.  I should’ve fucking killed him”

You were staring at him, speechless.  You should’ve known it was about you, Richie was always so fiercely protective of you.  And Henry’s wouldn’t be the first nose that he’d broken protecting you.  But this wasn’t like before.  He’d beaten on your ex boyfriends after they broke your heart.  Henry hadn’t said or done anything to you, he was just doing what boys do.  (Make shit up because they think it makes them impressive when really they’re even shittier than they look)

“I didn’t mean to break your promise,” Richie huffed.  His face was slightly flushed after his mini tantrum.  His hands grabbed both of yours, holding them close to him.  “I’m so sorry I put you through this again”

You were still silent, but he knew this wasn’t a bad silence.  You were still processing, still trying to figure out how to forgive him while making sure this was the last time he crawls through your window looking like this.

“I hope you know that it came from a place of- of caring about you,” He added.  “Caring about you too much, I guess” He mumbled as an afterthought.

Your stupid lovesick heart skipped a beat at the sweet words.  Richie wasn’t one for words, at all, but he somehow managed to say the most loving things without even realizing it.

“I can’t promise it won’t happen again, that much is clear.  And if Bowers says one more goddamn thing about your ass I’ll fucking string him up- I will- but I can promise I’ll try, okay? I will, I’ll really try”

He squeezed your hands a little bit, hoping you believed him, hoping you trusted him.

Your eyes flickered between his for a moment, and you could see in them that he was being sincere, and that he was broken up over hurting you.

“You…” He started to speak, but trailed off unsurely.  “You deserve better” He finished.

His eyes flickered to yours for a brief moment, before he turned away.

You shake your head, before you let go of one of his hands, and took his chin between your thumb and index finger, turning him to look back at you.

“(y/n/n)-”

You cut him off when you leaned in and gently kissed him, trying to be mindful of his split lip.

Richie’s eyes remained focused on your closed ones, too stunned to close them, or really kiss her back.

He wanted to kick himself when you pulled away.  He managed to miss his fucking chance because he was too slow to do anything about it.

Your eyes fluttered open in such a beautiful way Richie swore you were holding his heart in your perfect little hands.

His brows were furrowed like you’d confused him, and you absolutely had.  He hadn’t expected you to kiss him.

“Why’d you do that?” He asked breathlessly, and your cheeks burned pink.

Your shoulders raised a bit in a shrug, and you had to bite your lip to keep from smiling too much.

“I just… wanted to” You whispered.

A smile twitched on the corner of Richie’s lips before his hand cupped your cheek, and he pulled you in again, so he could kiss you right this time.

Your lips were just as soft, if not softer, than he’d imagined they’d be.  And he’d imagined countless times what they’d feel like.  Daydreaming in class, before he fell asleep, and being right by your side for the last seven years.

Kissing you was bliss.

He did it again, taking your face in both of his hands and pulling you impossibly closer.  He could feel your lips smiling against his own, and once again, his heart was beating out of his chest trying to get to yours.

“I’m in love with you, (y/n/n)” He murmured when you parted, and you laughed softly.

“That makes sense,” You replied, reaching a hand up to play with the curls on the back of his neck.  “And… I love you too”

Richie gave you a sunshine smile, which you couldn’t help but return.

“I’m still upset, by the way,” You told him, still playing with the curls.  “But only cause I’m tired of seeing you covered in bruises, okay?”

He nodded, and you leaned your cheek further against the palm of his hand.

“I promise to try” He said, and then raised his pinky.

You looked from his hand and then back to him, a slight glare in your eyes.

“Come on, just do it,” He urged, you rolled your eyes, but he was persistent.  “Just link fuckin’ pinkies with me”

With a giggle you hooked your pinky with his, and held it for a moment.

“You want to go get tacos now?” He asked, and you grinned, nodding your head.

“You read my mind” You answered, and followed him back out the window.

It dawned on you that Richie was both your lover and your fighter.  And he held those titles proudly.

As he took your hand and walked alongside you down the street, he decided there were no other title he’d want to be labeled, besides yours. ___

taglist: @thegr8kush​

xoxo ~ jordie

#it #it chapter one #it chapter two #it fanfiction #richie tozier #richie tozier x reader #richie tozier scenario #richie tozier imagine #richie tozier fanfiction #finn wolfhard #finn wolfhard x reader #bill hader #bill hader x reader

[sunder-soul]

I’ll start off by saying I adore this blog due to how amazing ur writing is & how active u r, it makes me so happy. I’m hoping you could write some tom smut where he’s the virgin & the reader (preferably a hufflepuff) is the experienced one? (cause I really can’t imagine Tom being popular or caring about sex in hogwarts). Like I can just imagine him having no idea what to do & letting the reader take in control and he’s highkey loving every minute of it (like he’s secretly just a sub).

You cannot imagine the effect this had on me. I… I am a changed person.

･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. 

Nox

Summary: You’re trapped in a closet with Tom Riddle playing Seven Minutes in Heaven. What happens in the dark, stays in the dark. Word count: 4.8k Content warning: explicit sex scenes. Underage drinking I guess?

･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ.

PART II HERE! 💖

It had taken some convincing to get you to come to the party, but you’d have to admit that it had been more fun than you’d expected – the Slytherin common room was the perfect place for a post-Quidditch game blow out, hidden away under the lake where the Professors wouldn’t hear the music blasting from enchanted gramophones, the creepy light filtering in through the tall glass windows leading into the dark waters of the lake giving the perfect background under the dim green lanterns illuminating the party.

You’re drunk on Firewhisky that a group of cheeky-faced seventh-year Gryffindor boys brought to bribe their way inside, and by the time the party is winding down at around two in the morning you’re laid out across Ruth Willows’ lap on one of the black leather couches by the fireplace, giggling and very unwilling to move.

“Alright you two,” one of the Slytherin boys you don’t recognise says, smirking. “Clear out – this is strictly Slytherin territory again.”

“Aww, come on, Hartley,” Ruth says teasingly, “don’t tell me you’re done for the night – out-partied by a couple of Hufflepuffs, are you?”

“Don’t start something you can’t finish, Willows,” Hartley says seriously, pointing at her.

You sit up, the room spinning around you in a pleasant, warm way. “We can take you,” you say cheerily, resting your head on Ruth’s shoulder.

There’s a smattering of laughs from the circle of lingering party-goers – You and Ruth are the only Hufflepuffs left, but there’s a couple of Gryffindors too, and you recognise some sixth-year Ravenclaw boys whispering to each other next to the fireplace.

“A game, then,” Hartley declares, looking around the circle with a grin.

“A game!” you and Ruth echo cheerfully, lifting your drinks.

“Alright, who’s playing? Scott? Peters? How about you, Avery?”

You glance over your shoulder to the far corner of the Slytherin room at the only group left in at the party – the gaggle of Slytherin boys who had spent the whole evening sitting at the circular table looking disapprovingly at the revelry as they sipped their drinks and evidently thought themselves far too mature for such nonsense. You share an amused look with Ruth.

“No thank, you,” Avery says aloofly, turning up his nose.

“Too good for a bit of fun, are you?” one of the Gryffindor boys snickers.

“They’re just trying to show off,” another smirks back, “think they’re acting all grown up and responsible –”

“I’ll join you,” says a very unexpected voice.

The whole circle looks around in shock. Tom Riddle has stood from the table and approaches the couches, his acolytes staring after him looking surprised. “What are we playing?” Riddle asks pleasantly, taking a seat on the couch opposite you – Ella Scott from Slytherin scrambles to the side to make room for him looking like she’s just won the lottery.

“That’s the spirit, Riddle,” beams Hartley, “not like those hoity-toity friends of yours, are you?”

Riddle smiles with far too much charm as he laces his arm over the back of the couch and crosses one long leg over the other, his Slytherin boys sliding into spare places around the circle and casting him perplexed looks of surprise.

“So?” Ruth asks expectantly, grinning at Hartley. “What’s the game?”

“Seven Minutes in Heaven,” Hartley smirks.

The circle erupts; the Gryffindor boys whoop with cheers as the Ravenclaws groan and roll their eyes, and you laugh softly as your head rolls back against Ruth’s shoulder, the alcohol still making the room spin slightly.

“I don’t know this game,” Riddle says quietly through the cacophony – though everyone seems to hear him with ease all the same.

“It’s the best game ever invented,” the first Gryffindor boy grins – you think his name is Rory but you can’t remember his surname. “When it’s your turn, you spin your wand on table and whoever it points to has to spend seven minutes with you in the broom closet.”

“What is the point of that?” Riddle frowns.

There’s a smattering of snickers and Riddle’s frown vanishes at the sound, his face going strangely blank.

“Making out, of course,” Rory smirks, “catch on, Riddle.”

Riddle’s face remains expressionless but there’s a coldness to it that the others don’t seem to notice as they continue to chuckle quietly. He clearly doesn’t like being laughed at.

“Who’s going first?” you say quickly, looking around the circle to distract them.

“Hartley’s the one who suggested this, he should start,” a Slytherin girl (April…? Avril…?) smirks.

“Only because Willows goaded me!” Hartley accuses, pointing at Ruth.

“I’ll happily go first,” Ruth says with an easy smile, “since Hartley’s too chicken.”

There’s a low murmur of amusement as Hartley’s eyes narrow at Ruth leaning forward and spinning her wand on the table – only to explode into raucous laugher when it comes to a stop pointing directly at –

“Looks like you’ll be going first after all, Hartley,” Ruth says breezily, standing. “After you,” she gestures theatrically at the wooden door to the broom closet in the corner, and Hartley gets up from the couch looking extremely gobsmacked.

“Make sure you return him in one piece,” April/Avril snickers.

“I don’t make promises I can’t keep,” Ruth says without missing a beat, grinning as she slams the door to the closet shut behind them.

“Hufflepuff’s got a set of claws on her,” the other Gryffindor boy laughs.

“Badgers are a natural predator of snakes,” you sigh, lying back on the couch and throwing back your arms in a content dizziness. “He doesn’t stand a chance.”

You lie there listening to the group talk and laugh, the reedy music wheedling away in the background, and by the time the closet bursts open again it doesn’t feel like any time has passed at all – though perhaps that’s the alcohol talking.

“And that,” Ruth exclaims, falling back onto the couch beside you, “is how it’s done.”

“How’s Hartley?” you ask her, laying your head back on her lap.

“He’ll never be the same,” she says smoothly, inspecting her nails.

The group is still laughing when Hartley sits back down on the floor beside the table, his hair dishevelled and his expression rather shell-shocked.

“Have fun mate?” Rory smirks, clapping him on the shoulder.

Hartley nods blankly, and the laughter only grow.

“Alright then, who’s next?” Ruth says loudly, looking very pleased with herself.

The turn passes counter-clockwise, and April/Avril gets landed with one of the reluctant Ravenclaw boys before Edgar Peters spins Rory. Scott casts Tom next to her a very unsubtle hopeful look before she spins her wand, but when it lands on Lestrange she has the good sense not to look too disappointed.

“Alright Riddle,” Rory grins, his arm now around Edgar’s shoulders (who is blushing violently). “Your turn.”

There’s something strangely blank about Tom’s face as he leans forward and sets his wand on the table, and you let your head loll to the side to watch with interest as Tom’s long, pale fingers deftly spin his wand. You cast an eye around the circle and fail to hold in a laugh; nearly everyone is watching in utter rapture, mostly leaning forward expectantly. Your laugh is drowned out by the noise that erupts across the group when Tom’s wand comes to a gradual stop pointing directly at your face.

“Is that me or you?” you ask Ruth languidly, looking up at her from her lap.

“That’s you,” she smirks down at you, “I’ve had quite enough Slytherin for one night.”

“Alright then,” you sigh, sitting up and stretching before swinging your legs off the couch and sprightly standing.

Tom is looking up at you blankly, unmoved from the couch.

“Well come on then,” you say in amusement, waving your hands at him. “The clock doesn’t start until the door shuts, you know.”

Riddle blinks and then smoothly stands, and you totter around the couch and stroll towards the door to the closet, still buzzing from the Firewhiskey. Riddle follows you silently, not looking at you as you hold the door open for him.

“Have fun!” someone shouts from the couches to general giggles.

You roll your eyes and let the door fall shut. Darkness and utter silence immediately falls, and you realise at once that at least one of the previous players has cast a muffling charm on the door to stop any potential eavesdropping.

“Lumos Volant,” you murmur.

A little ball of warm yellow light springs from your wand and hovers happily above the two of you, casting the inside of the closet into view – it’s small and cramped, a table stacked with boxes of books and old parchments beside you and shelves crammed with all sorts of things on every wall, hedging you in. Tom is standing in the middle of the closet, his dark, even gaze on you. There’s something suddenly very funny to you about the fact that he’s still wearing his uniform, impeccable as always.

“I thought lights were not permitted,” he says quietly.

You lift yourself up onto the edge of the table, feet swinging slightly. “I thought we might talk for a moment,” you say casually, looking around the closet.

Tom hesitates. “Talk?” he asks slowly.

“You’ve not done this before, have you?” you ask him, meeting his gaze with a tilt to your head.

“I believe I made it quite clear that I’m unfamiliar with the rules of this –”

“Not the game,” you interrupt, shaking your head with a soft smile. “This.” You gesture between the two of you.

Silence returns. Tom looks at you with an impenetrable expression as you wait for his reply, your feet still swinging lightly.

“And why would you think that?” he eventually asks, very evenly.

You shrug. “Just my read on you, I suppose. Am I wrong?”

Tom just leans back against the shelves, his hands pushing back his robes and sliding into the pockets of his slacks. For the first time you take a moment to appreciate exactly how good-looking he is; the black waves of his hair, the high cheekbones, the elegant curve of his lips – and the naturally regal quality of his features only augmented by the calm composure he always seemed to radiate. It was easy to see why he’d been made prefect, why Slughorn always fawned over him, why everyone said that he’d be Minister for Magic one day.

“You know, we don’t have to do anything,” you say conversationally.

Tom arches one of his dark brows. “What do you mean?” he asks in wry amusement.

“A stranger in a closet at a party?” you smile. “With a time limit, no less… Not exactly a very romantic setting.”

“I’m not a romantic,” Tom says lightly, looking away.

“No,” you say quietly. “You’re not, are you?”

Tom’s eyes flash to yours. For a moment you think you see something almost annoyed in his eyes, like your comment rubbed him the wrong way, and then the look is gone and his attention returns to the closet. “Your read on me appears to be quite extensive,” he says distinctly.

You laugh. “Does it bother you to be so transparent?”

His lips curve into a rather unsettling smirk. “Transparent,” he echoes, looking up at the ball of light floating above. “I must say, that’s a first…”

“You don’t like being laughed at, do you?” you say nonchalantly. “Specifically when you’re being excluded – oh! Is that why you spend so much time with those horrible blood supremacists even though you’re a half-blood?”

Tom’s eyes narrow on you and his smirk vanishes immediately. Something sharp has taken over his face, and you think that perhaps if you hadn’t drunk so much Firewhiskey, you’d find it scary.

“You tell those boys what to do, don’t you? They listen to you even when they don’t want to – Avery didn’t even want to play tonight but he followed you the second you came over. Are you in control all the time?” you ask curiously. “Is that why you dress all…” you wave a hand at his absolutely perfect uniform, shoes charmed to a shine, hair set into tidy waves, Slytherin tie dead straight and his prefect badge gleaming on his robes. “Well anyway, I suppose that would explain the grades, too.”

“Extensive indeed,” Tom breathes, tone very cool. “Is there more?”

“Yes,” you smile, holding the edge of the table lightly. “I don’t think you’re one to be coerced into doing something you don’t want to do.”

“Is that so?” Tom asks icily.

You nod. “Which means you want to be here.”

“I’m regretting it already.”

“You are not,” you scoff, “or you would have left.”

“I’m considering it,” he snaps.

“Come here.”

Tom’s expression falters, his brow furrowing. “What?”

You lift a hand and motion him closer with a casual wave. “Come here,” you repeat softly.

Tom huffs disapprovingly and looks away. “If I were really so transparent you would know not to give me orders,” he says coolly.

“Tom.”

His eyes find yours immediately, and you tilt your head again. “I’m not ordering you,” you say quietly, “I’m inviting you.”

Tom frowns slightly, something very calculating about the way he looks at you in the ensuing silence. After a long moment, Tom gently pushes off the wall and takes three slow steps towards you, stopping a respectful distance from where you’re sitting on edge of the table, his hands still in his pockets.

You smile, amused. “Closer.”

The blankness has returned to his face. You wonder if perhaps that’s how he looks when he doesn’t know how to look.

Tom takes the final step towards you, just barely brushing your knees, looking down at you with impenetrable eyes. You slowly reach forward and gently take his wrists, pulling his hands from his pockets and placing them lightly on your thighs. Tom doesn’t react, he only keeps his eyes on yours, his hands utterly still where you’ve placed them. You let your own remain on top of his as you look up at him, watching his face curiously as you gently guide his hands to push your knees apart.

He blinks, the barest flicker of his eyelids, a seemingly involuntary reaction – but that was what you’re looking for. Something beyond the composure. Something out of his control.

Slowly, you glide your hands up his forearms, keeping your eyes on his face and watching for his reaction. You can feel his warmth through his robes, his body beneath the impeccable layers of his uniform, your touch traveling up to his shoulders, down across his chest, and in a single, unbroken motion you lace your fingers around his tie and pull gently.

Tom’s eyes flicker again, but he lets you pull him down towards you, smooth and slow, and you feel anticipation thrumming in your chest as he gets closer, those dark eyes fixed on yours, his expression still blank and inscrutable. He’s less than an inch from your lips when you stop. Tom pauses at once, bent to you with his hands still resting on your thighs, your knees brushing against his hips. He’s close enough that you can feel his breath warm on your face.

“Are you quite sure I can’t order you around?” you ask softly, leaning up and very gently pressing your lips right next to his mouth. Tom exhales slightly, his eyes closing. You smile and then press your lips up against his neck, right in the most vulnerable point under his jaw. “I think you might like it,” you murmur against his skin.

Satisfaction curls in your stomach when you feel his fingers press ever-so-slightly harder into your thighs. “What would you have me do?” Tom asks quietly, and he’s almost entirely successful at concealing the slight thickness in his voice – but not quite.

“I’d have you move those hands of yours,” you say softly, your lips trailing back up his jaw. “I didn’t put them there to stay still.”

Tom exhales again, tense and measured, and then very slowly his hands slide up your thighs. His hands are warm and reserved, travelling to your hips as you press your lips against his pulse point and listen to his breathing, the deliberateness of it, the brittle tension in it. Tom is trying very hard to remain in control.  

You pull away and Tom’s hands fall still on your waist. His eyes have gone hooded and dark, and a flutter of excitement swells in your stomach at the sight. “Keep going,” you say quietly, gently pulling on his tie again, bringing him down to your lips and holding him there, barely a breath away.

Tom hesitates only for a second before his hands start to move again, sliding up your waist, your ribcage, the side of your chest – you nearly smile at how obvious he’s being at avoiding touching your breasts – up your collarbones, your neck, coming to a halt on either side of your jaw.

For a moment he holds you there, and you hold him there too, your hand on his tie anchoring him in place mere milimetres from you. His gaze is level but you can see the hesitation behind his eyes, feel the reservation in his hands.

“Nox,” you whisper against his lips.

The light above you goes out.

In the darkness, the warmth is all-encompassing, the sound of his breath louder, the heady, rich scent of him more potent, and the feeling of his hands on your skin more overpowering, and you lean without hesitation, kissing him slow and smooth, and…

Your stomach twists. He’s kissing you back just the same, restrained at first, hesitant like you were expecting, but when your arms slide up around his neck to pull him closer, drawing him into you, some of Tom’s restraint starts to falter. His hands against your face hold you more firmly, his breathing getting sharper, and his head tilts to the side to kiss you deeper. When you lock your ankles together behind him, the inside of your thighs pressing against his hips he breaks the kiss and you look up blindly into the dark.

“What?” you ask softly.

“I… you were right,” he says, still breathing slightly harder than normal. “I haven’t… done this before.”

“Do you want to?”

There’s a ringing silence. You frown in the dark. “You don’t have to, Tom.”

“You’ve already noted that I’m not one to be coerced into doing something that I don’t want to do,” Tom says smoothly, leaning back down to your lips.

“Right on that count too, was I?” you smile, kissing him again before he has a chance to reply.

Tom inhales and his hands pull your face closer to him, his mouth moving more insistently, and as you twist your fingers through the soft waves of his hair, you experimentally brush your tongue against his top lip. He immediately pulls away again and you laugh softly.

“Sorry,” you chuckle, “too much?”

He hesitates. “I wasn’t expecting it,” he says evenly. Some of the restraint has returned.

“Shall I do it again? Now that you’re expecting it?” you ask with no small amount of amusement.

By way of reply Tom slowly leans in again and kisses you deeply, and then – exactly as you had done – his tongue traces your top lip, like he’s mimicking you. He is mimicking you, you realise as you kiss him back enthusiastically, he’s copying what you’re doing because he doesn’t know what else to do.

If you’re leading by example, then there’s only one thing for it.

You slide your hands from around his neck down his body, pressing your hands flat against his chest and sighing against his lips – he feels good. Down your hands fall, curving under his jumper, gently tugging his shirt from his trousers, and Tom is kissing you harder and harder, stepping in closer, a hand falling from your face and slipping around your waist to pull you closer to him.

Your fingers brush his warm stomach and Tom breaks the kiss again, his head falling onto your shoulder as you touch him, your hands travelling around his hips and up his back. His skin is soft and smooth, his body lean and warm, and you’re breathing hard yourself when Tom lifts his head again.

“Can I…” he says slowly.

“Can you what?” you breathe.

Tom slowly kisses you, full and open, his lips lingering when he pulls away. When he speaks, he’s so close that you can feel his lips forming the words against yours. “Can I touch you?” he murmurs.

You laugh softly again. “If you weren’t so opposed to being ordered around, I would have already told you to.”

Tom’s arm around your waist tightens and pulls you into another kiss, and this time when his tongue brushes your lips you reach up and take his other hand from where he’s still cupping your face, gently guiding it down your neck, down the swell of your chest – Tom’s breathing takes on that same brittle quality – down your hip, your thigh, coming to a stop where the hem on your dress rests just above your knees.

Your lips draw from his and there’s a ringing silence. Too quiet. You realise that you’re both holding your breath.

“Is this what you meant?” you ask softly.

Tom swallows, and he nods.

You kiss him again, sliding his hand up your thigh and under your dress. When you bring his hand up to the hollow where your thigh meets your hip, Tom exhales again, breaking the kiss as his head tilts down. “I… I’ve never…” he says slowly, swallowing again. “I don’t know what to do,” he finishes quietly, and you can hear the conflict in his voice, his pride battling with his desire.

“Would you like me to show you?” you murmur.

He takes a breath and nods again.

You guide his hand inwards, the touch of his fingers against the outside of your underwear making heat spread across your skin. Slowly, you push Tom’s hand into place and carefully press to curve his fingers. When he feels how wet you are Tom breathes out very shakily and then – to your surprise – his lips are against yours, kissing you as you move his fingers with your own, showing him what to do.

He’s a fast learner. Tom’s fingers slide gently against you, mimicking what you show him and kissing you the whole time – it’s too much very quickly, and you can’t keep yourself from moaning as searing pleasure burns at his touch, smothered by his kiss. Soon you draw your hand away, confident that he knows how to continue, and place your palm against his cheek to draw him closer into the kiss. Tom’s grip around you tightens, his tongue meeting yours, the pressure and speed of his fingers just barely increasing and making you gasp into his mouth.

“Like that?” he asks softly.

“Like that,” you breathe, your eyes squeezing shut as tension coils in your core. “Don’t… don’t stop…”

Tom’s mouth presses hot against your jaw and your head falls back automatically, his lips moving – just like yours had  – right on the vulnerable part under your jawbone.

You feel the pleasure hike, growing and growing, and then with your palm still flat on Tom’s cheek and your other curled into a fist around his tie, it hits you hard, gasping as the dark closet seeming to spin with lights for a moment before you slowly come down.

Tom slowly draws his hand from you, and over your own panting you can hear him take a long, tense breath that sounds suspiciously shaky.

“Now,” you say a little breathlessly, “it’s your turn.”

Tom is silent as you slide your palm down his neck, his chest, keeping one hand fixed around his tie as the other brushes his hip, slips under his shirt again and traces the top of his trousers.

With a small, sharp tug on his tie, Tom’s mouth is nearly against yours again and you hear his breath stutter. “Do you want me to touch you?” you whisper against his lips.

He swallows. Nods.

Your fingers curl around the button of his trousers, pull it open, and then slowly undo the zip. Tom reaches up and takes your face in his hands, taking another shaky breath as his forehead presses against yours, and you can almost imagine his eyes closing, the tension on his face, the wanting.

Slowly, knowing that you’re teasing him, you slide your hand against his skin just beneath the line of his trousers, feeling the flat warmth of his stomach, the sharp angle of his hip bone – Tom’s hands hold your face tighter and he’s trying to control his breathing as you push your hand lower, lower –

There’s a rap on the door that makes you both jump and you pull your hand from him quickly.

“Time’s up!” someone yells from outside, muffling charm broken. “That’s seven minutes!”

You suppress a laugh as you reach for your wand on the table next to you. Just when things were getting good… “Lumos Volant,” you say again softly.

From your wand the same ball of light erupts, and you freeze.

Tom is still standing in front of you, but he looks nothing like when you saw him last. The refined, impeccable, composed Tom Riddle has been replaced by a figure unlike any you’ve seen – Tom’s dark hair is tousled and curled, his eyes black with hunger, his lips slick and pink and his cheeks flushed. His tie hangs loose from his crumpled collar, his shirt untucked and his trousers still unbuttoned.

Worst of all is the way he’s looking at you.

Tom’s dark, ravenous eyes sweep over you in what must be the same way you’ve been looking at him, lingering on the sleeve of your dress fallen from your shoulder, the hem pushed up all the way to reveal your thighs where his elegant, pale hands are resting. Whatever he finds on your face catches his attention because his jaw tightens and he looks on the brink of leaning in again.

“We… should…” you say slowly, unable to look away from him.

He nods silently.

Neither of you move.

You clear your throat and force your gaze off his face, straightening your dress pointedly and standing. Tom’s uniform slides back into its usual perfection with a single wave of his hand, but as he moves to step past you, your palm flashes up and catches his chest. Tom looks down at you at once and your heart skips a beat at the heat in his eyes.

“Your… your hair,” you say sheepishly, nodding at it. “You might want to…” You reach up before he can and push your fingers through it, smoothing it out and returning it to its regular impeccable state.

Tom’s eyes don’t leave yours as you touch him, and your cheeks grow warm, pointedly not lowering your gaze to his as you work.

“There,” you say quietly, smiling at him as your hands drop.

He doesn’t step away. He just looks down at you.

Your face gets warmer still. “Listen,” you say softly, “do you… want to keep this between us?”

The barest hint of a frown appears on Tom’s face. “Why would I want that?” he asks evenly.

“I just thought you might,” you shrug.

His lips flicker into what might be called a smile. “Just your read on me?” he asks with the faintest brush of dry humour.

“So?” you smile, rolling your eyes slightly. “Would you like that?”

Tom’s expression falls sober. After a second he steps in a little closer and you can’t ignore the way your pulse spikes when he lifts his fingers and pushes your hair back behind your ear, so soft that you shiver. “Yes,” he says very quietly, “I would like that.”

You nod and quickly turn away before you can get distracted again, pulling the door open and humming absently as you step out. You know without needing to check that Tom is following you with that blank composure returned to his face.

“Oi oi,” Ruth calls, winking at you. “You sure took your time – longest seven minutes I’ve ever seen!”

“We just talked, Ruth,” you say with a wry grin, leaning against the back of the couch. “Tom is an excellent conversationalist.”

“Conversationalist?” she repeats, smirking. “Is that what they call it these days?”

“We should be going,” you say dryly, giving her a look. “It’s nearly three in the morning and we’ve got Apparating class tomorrow.”

“Merlin’s beard, if I don’t splinch myself it’ll be a bloody miracle,” Ruth mutters, standing. “Alright you lot, try not to do anything too irresponsible once we’re gone!”

You catch Tom’s eye as he sits back down on the couch, but both of you look away again.

“Good night lovely people!” Ruth calls gaudily, throwing an arm around your shoulders and leading you across the Slytherin common room towards the steps, “Oh – and Hartley.”

The circle snickers, and you chance one last glance over your shoulder at Tom – but he’s not looking at you. His eyes are fixed on the little table in between the black leather couches, on his wand resting there, still pointing at where you’d been sitting.

･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ.

PART II HERE! 💖

To request sequels/being tagged in follow-ups, leave a reply in the notes!  💖

#tom riddle #tom marvolo riddle #tom riddle x oc #tom riddle x reader #tom riddle x y/n #tom riddle x you #tom riddle fanfiction #tom riddle fic #minific #prompt #ask #Anon #tom riddle smut #smut #hufflepuff reader #virgin tom #FIL #nox #sub tom #inexperienced tom #afab reader #confident reader #affectionate reader #tom riddle imagine #tom riddle imagines

[holden-caulfield]

The Prettiest Replacement

↪︎ 𝐦𝐚𝐢𝐧 𝐦𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭

SUMMARY: reader and draco attend slughorn's party.

WARNINGS: none

WORD COUNT: 1118

"Where are you going so dapper, Malfoy?" you stated after letting out a low, mocking whistle to get his attention.

"Slughorn's party, like you I suppose." he declared, looking at you up and down and plopping onto the couch in the slytherin common room.

"You aren't part of the slugclub though, are you?" you inquired, sitting down next to your friend.

"Thanks for reminding me, really."

"You can always count on me for that, don't worry." his disappointed expression caused a proud smirk to erupt on your face and you continued, "Who invited you?"

"Does it matter?" he said, relaxing his face to normal once more.

"Of course it does, who is it?"

"You really want to know, huh?" he asked, his usual smirk etched on his face as he did so.

"Yes or I wouldn't have asked you. Tell me, now."

"Or what?" he said defiantly, moving slightly closer to your face.

"Or i'll be very upset." you crossed your arms in front of you, annoyed, and he laughed at the action.

"Although you look very funny when upset, Zabini invited me." your shocked expression must have made him regret his choice of words for he immediately corrected himself, "I meant that i asked Zabini to invite me."

Your eyes widened even more at the confessions and an irritated sigh left his mouth.

"I meant that i wanted to go to the party, so i asked Zabini to take me with him, you idiot."

"Yeah, i knew, Blaise isn't your type anyway..." you admitted, Draco shaking his head at your silliness, "Why do you want to go to the party though? Haven't you anything better to do than chatting with potions enthusiasts?"

He chuckled once more, the warmth of the common room engulfing you two and creating a sort of safe bubble around you, fending you and Draco from the outside.

"You got me, I desperately wanted to talk about potions even on non-school hours."

"Come on, tell me, Malfoy!" you shrieked, bumping into his side enough to make him lose some balance.

"Make a guess." you propped yourself on the couch so you were looking directly at his side, still turned towards the crackling fire.

"Ok... do you want extra points? No, that isn't like you... is it because you want to make a good impression on Slughorn and be invited next time? No, you aren't that desperate... do you have a crush on Slughorn? I'm your friend, you can tell me, I won't judge you." you patted his shoulder condescendingly and he swatted your arm off with a huff.

"I'd rather date Potter for that matter... but yes, you guessed it." your eyes widened with stupor, for real this time.

"You have a crush on Slughorn?!"

"Not on Slughorn, for Merlin's sake!" he spat, thoroughly offended but you simply laughed.

"Who is it then, if it's not Slughorn nor Blaise?" you asked sincerely.

"You'll laugh at me, y/n, i know you."

"If you really know me, you'd know i'll laugh at you anyway so you might as well tell me!" he smiled softly and looked up at you for a moment before returning his gaze towards the bright fire.

"Everything you need to know is that this person got invited to the party too, I won't say anything else."

"Is it Granger? Merlin, if it is, i will never let you forget that!"

"No, it isn't Granger. I won't tell you y/n, so quit trying." he heard footsteps coming from the dorms and started to get up from the couch.

"Oh come on, what do you plan on doing? Do you want to tell them there? Ask them to dance perhaps? Tell me!" you got up quickly after him and clang to his arm to get him to disclose more information, but Blaise arrived from the dorms and inevitably interrupted your conversation.

"Are you two ready?"

"Took you your sweet time, Zabini."

"One does not look this good without taking some time, Malfoy." he retorted, motioning to his outfit.

"We'll be late because of you, get a move on." you called as you walked towards the party with Draco and Blaise in tow.

Slughorn's exclusive gathering wasn't anything special, at least for now: people seemed to be enjoying themselves, chatting cheerily among each other, sweets and delicacies were served by students who hadn't got invited but still wished to come and the host smiled politely, perhaps over-excitedly, to anyone who would have liked to talk with him.

But Draco still had made no move. You spent the whole night ignoring whoever wished to initiate a conversation with you to spy on your friend, wanting, no, needing to know who that special person he fancied was.

You took a look at everyone present but no one seemed Draco's type. Then you looked at Draco, in the corner of the party, sipping on his drink: he looked at no one in particular, simply catching your gaze from time to time, causing you to blush profusely knowing you had gotten caught.

The night was coming to an end, uneventful and quite boring since you had only been watching Draco, when you realized the main target of your entire night had disappeared from view.

You searched for him among the crowd, afraid to have missed the moment of revelation, when someone tapped you on the shoulder from behind.

"Might i have this dance?" you turned around to find Draco, standing tall in front of you, looking incredibly relaxed but his slightly red cheeks said otherwise.

You looked at him in surprise, unable to close your mouth or to emit a single sound, so you simply turned the corners of your lips slightly upward and nodded.

Draco smiled appreciatively, his aura of confidence growing now that you had accepted his hand. He took you by the waist, ever-so-delicately, and you two began dancing lightly with some other couples.

"Well, aren't you going to laugh?" he asked chuckling slightly as he guided you effortlessly on the dance floor.

"Maybe I should, I can't believe you hadn't told me before." you averted your eyes from his face, which was only mere inches from yours at the moment. "Why haven't you asked me to accompany you?"

He took your chin in his hand and turned your head to face him again.

"How bold of you to assume i wanted to go with you when Zabini was right there... but he refused when i asked him to dance, you know." you smiled, rolling your eyes at him.

His hand still on your chin, he moved closer, finally closing the gap between you.

"So i'm just a replacement, huh?"

"The prettiest one."

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#draco malfoy #fanfic #fanfiction #harry potter #draco lucius malfoy #draco x reader #draco imagine #draco x y/n #draco malfoy fluff #fluff #draco malfoy x you #draco malfoy x y/n #draco malfoy x reader

[ladyartemesia]

The Secret

◐ PART IV of THE ALPHA ◐

◐ Part I ◐ Part II ◐ Part III ◐ Series Masterlist ◐

Pairing: Alpha Werewolf Jimin x Omega Reader

Rating: Mature (for this installment)

Warnings: ABO sexual dynamics including discussion of scenting, marking, mating, and claiming. Violence and discussion of violence relating to ritual combat. Jin’s pheromones need their own warning. Yoonji and Yunli are not the same person.

Word Count: 3600

Author’s Note: This update literally made me sob because I edited it and formatted it and it just disappeared when I posted. I seriously felt my heart drop because it took so long to format... ANYWAYS I wonder if anyone guessed the secret.

”You can’t do this, Luna ... Come back inside.”

Your hand tightened on the doorknob.

“I was just going out for some air-”

Jin shook his head, letting his lanky frame collapse onto the overstuffed chair by the fireplace. 

“And after the air... then what?”

Your terse silence was confirmation enough. 

He sighed heavily, hating himself a little for what he had to do. 

“You cannot go to him. They’ll smell you on his skin and it could cost him... dearly.”

Your eyes fluttered shut.

“I just wanted to see him...,” you whispered. “I wanted to talk to him just once before-”

A sob bubbled up in your throat and your hand flew up to cover it. 

The dawn would come in two hours. 

And then Park Jimin would be gone. 

Jin’s arms wrapped around your shoulders and you fell against him hopelessly. 

“They’re going to make me watch, Jin-ah. I-I have to watch him-”

Bitter tears overtook you, wracking your body with the violence of your despair. 

“I know...,” he murmured softly into your hair, “I know.” 

“Do you think he’ll really show up?”

The chief elder glared fiercely at the young man who dared voice such a question. 

The entire pack had jammed themselves into the clearing where the challenge was taking place and despite the solemnity of the occasion, the atmosphere buzzed with barely contained speculation. 

“Park Jimin was chosen by the goddess herself to be her champion or to be the divine test of her champion. Have some respect,” he hissed. 

The young pup had the decency to look abashed, but the chief elder was already ignoring him in favor of the newest arrival... 

A Luna wore only three ceremonial colors at any given time. 

Green for celebration and harvest was worn in times of laughter and gaiety. 

Blue for mourning and peaceful resolve was worn in times of trial and hardship. 

Red for passion and vengeance was worn in times of war and signified the sacred bonds that wove the pack together. 

Your mother laid out a blue cloak as it was the color chosen by every Luna who had ever faced down a provocatione ritual.

But you arrived in sumptuous Red. 

It was a stunning act of defiance, a wordless declaration of your fury. You were here to obey the goddess, but in a crimson cloak you would not embrace this challenge with peaceful resolve. 

An attack upon your mate, even under these circumstances, was an attack upon you. 

You had come dressed for war. 

Jimin heard the gasps echo around his meditation cell.  

He and Namjoon arrived at the sacred circle a full hour before dawn and sequestered themselves in the small, free-standing hovels on opposing sides of the the site. 

The tiny pods were spaces for an individual to commune with the goddess and center themselves before engaging in the typically life-altering events that brought them there. 

Sometimes it was marriage or celebration, sometimes it was acceptance to one of the guilds or a promotion to a higher rank within your family’s clan...

Today it was life and death and the future of the pack that weighed upon the combatants’ shoulders. 

The sudden swell of movement and sound pulled Jimin from his meditative state. 

What happened? 

He got his answer soon after an elder came to escort him into the circle. 

It was you. 

Your hands and feet were bound to the ornately carved chair they had seated you in. This was a typical precaution because it was natural for a wolf to defend their mate if they were in danger and the restraints kept the Luna from doing so. 

The pain in your gaze was agonizing, but in red, flowing down from your shoulders with fiery obstinance, you were every inch the warrior queen. 

Yet it was not your rebellious cloak or even your incredible beauty that caused his heart to pound and stutter in glorious shock...

It was the familiar praesidium bracelet wrapped around your wrist; an intimate message of devotion that he and he alone would understand. 

Pride and possessiveness roared to life in Jimin’s chest. 

She’s mine.

“You look... surprisingly calm.”

Taehyung jerked guiltily. 

“What? Me? I don’t know anything - I mean I’m not calm - I’m frantic. I - I don’t even understand the question.”

Yoongi’s eyebrows raised right up into his hairline. 

“Taehyung-ah? Did you put those special mushrooms in your broth this morning? You’re acting a bit strange-”

“No,” Taehyung’s voice cracked. “This is me - this is totally normal me. I’m not - there were no mushrooms-” He cleared his throat and rubbed the back of his neck sheepishly. “So - uh - how’s Yoonji?”

“Oh my go- really?!” 

The chief elder began to recite his speech, reminding the pack of the profound significance this moment carried...

But Yunli could barely hear his words over the ringing in her ears. Her gaze fixed on Namjoon from the moment the elder brought him forward... yet he had not glanced toward her once. 

He looked so strong and confident. 

So capable of victory. 

A faint whimper of abject sorrow worked its way passed her lips and Namjoon’s eyes flew to her instantly. 

As if he had always known exactly where she was. 

Longing split his features for a fraction of a second. 

Then his gaze shuttered again and Yunli’s wolf howled in silent, mournful agony. 

Anticipation bore down upon the assembly as the chief elder uttered the last few sentences with reluctant finality. 

The moment had come.  

Both alphas stepped into the circle. 

You began to tug frantically - futilely - against the bonds. Jin’s hand gripped yours as a tear slipped heedlessly down his cheek. 

“I’m sorry,” Namjoon whispered - to you - to Yunli - to Jimin -

To himself. 

Then his claws lengthened to a deadly point and he tore forward with a chilling snarl. 

Jimin remained unnaturally still, watching his rival barrel towards him with almost calculated intent. 

Namjoon’s arm drew back to land the first strike and- 

———◐———

Last Night...

———◐———

“Wait - WHAT?!”

“It was... me. I broke the table.”

Taehyung drew back slowly. His eyebrows furrowed in profound confusion. 

“With what? A jackhammer!?”

Jimin tilted his head in amusement. 

“Hammerfist strike... actually.” He shrugged. “I lost my temper.”

“You - You lost your-“ Tae began shaking his head rapidly. “Is it a spell of some sort?! Goddess you know better than to get tangled up with witches! You let them give you a band aid and then they show up ten years later asking for your firstborn!”

Jimin rolled his eyes. 

“Of course not! No... it’s...” he bit his lip. “You remember that time I came to your house a little too early and... Yoonji had you tied to a bed...”

Tae paled. 

“We agreed never to speak of that.”

“And I haven’t - spoken of it - especially since Yoongi still thinks his precious baby cousin is unaware of big bad boy wolves and if he found out you were corrupting her-”

“Wait. You think I was corrupting her?!“

“The point is... it’s a secret. And I know you have your reasons for keeping it that way so... I hope you’ll understand what I’m about to tell you...”

———◐———

Fourteen Years Ago...

———◐———

Jimin’s hands fidgeted nervously over the flyer that the human boy offered him. 

“But I’m only in Seoul for the summer.”

Just long enough to miss Alpha Camp entirely. 

“That’s perfect because it’s only a summer program. Seriously, you were so fast catching that jar I knocked over. Your reflexes are amazing and it looks like you’ve got the perfect build for it too.” He tapped the flyer for emphasis. “Think about it.”

No one had ever told Park Jimin that he would be good at anything like this. In fact most people told him he needed to be better...

Bigger. 

Stronger. 

His eyes traveled over the large letters printed at the top of the brochure. 

“Taekwondo...”

——◐——

“...so thank you all again for signing up and attending the orientation. I will see you tomorrow for our first class.”

A strange sense of anticipation hummed through Jimin as he gathered his coat. He was finally doing something for himself; something that had nothing to do with being an alpha-

“You’re a wolf, aren’t you...”

The young instructor who gave the initial demonstration and spoke for most of the orientation stood behind him with his arms crossed.

Jimin’s eyes widened in shock. 

“How did you know?”

The stranger tapped his nose. 

“My grandfather had a human mate and his pack exiled him for it. I’m mostly human, but this nose can pick up another wolf’s scent just as well as yours.”

Modern packs didn’t exile wolves with human mates anymore, but fifty years ago the practice was still unfortunately common. 

“I’m sorry about your grandfather.”

The young man smiled. 

“He lived a long happy life with his mate and his family. There’s nothing to be sorry for.” He stretched out his hand. “Lee Taemin.”

“Park Jimin.”

They shook firmly, and Taemin continued to examine him with unconcealed interest. 

“Tell me, Park Jimin, what’s an alpha wolf doing all the way out in Seoul? The only pack around here married their last child into one of the mountain nations years ago.”

“That was my mother, actually... I’m here visiting my grandmother.”

Taemin tilted his head curiously. 

“I’ve never known wolves to be interested in human martial arts. You lot prefer to fight shifted... In fact, I doubt a mountain wolf could even throw a punch,” he snorted, “not that they’d need to with those fangs.”

Jimin’s shoulders fell a little. 

“So... you don’t think I’ll be good at it.”

“On the contrary, I think you could be incredible.”

The young wolf’s face brightened immediately. 

“Really?! Even if I’m not as strong as other wolves?”

“Taekwondo isn’t about strength. It’s about speed. Master the speed and the strength will follow.”

———◐———

“Relax your body. Focus your energy.”

Jimin drew in a deep breath as he moved  through the pattern Taemin taught him. 

“The power and speed of your wolf is constant, but most wolves do not bother channeling it in human form. Concentrate on your wolf and bring that power into your strike.” 

His hand came down on the thin press wood and-

It hurt. A lot. 

Taemin chuckled as Jimin cussed and swore, cradling his tender fist grouchily. 

“You’ll get it. Just keep practicing.”

“Are you sure I’ll be able to break the boards one day?”

The boy’s face was so round and adorably hopeful. Taemin nodded confidently and offered him some ice. 

“A human with training can break boards, but a wolf who harnessed his natural speed and strength could break much more than that.” 

———◐———

Twelve Years Ago...

———◐———

“You’ve improved a great deal since last summer. Were you finally able to find a teacher near your pack?”

“Yes - but... she’s not as good as you.”

Finding a local Taekwondo teacher had been the easy part. 

Constantly making up excuses to explain his habitual disappearances... 

That was trickier. 

His mother thought he was hunting with Taehyung, Taehyung thought he was sniffing around some human girl and needed a buddy to cover his tracks. 

Sneaking away to practice wasn’t too difficult, but he panicked when Yoongi caught him moving through forms in the woods once and pretended to be doing an interpretive dance. 

With no music.

Yoongi had looked at him a little funny since then. 

Taemin grinned. “Of course she’s not as good as me. I’m the best. Now take position and let’s see if you can finally land this kick.”

———◐———

Ten Years Ago...

———◐———

Jimin glared at the thick oak board Taemin sent him home with this year. 

“It’s a 4x6 solid oak plank. I want you to break it before the winter solstice.”

He snorted, positioning the board between the makeshift vices he fashioned to hold it in place. 

“Sure, I’ll just get right on that.”

“...Who are you talking to?”

Jimin groaned internally.

Of course. 

“Hey guys,” he turned to greet Jungkook and Hoseok brightly (while completely ignoring the question). “Where - where are you two headed today?”

Jungkook’s eyes sparkled with excitement. 

“One of the elders is going to teach us how to build traps! He invited all the unmated alphas to go with him past the boundary lines to test whatever we make!”

A familiar embarrassment settled heavily in Jimin stomach. 

“Oh... I uh... I didn’t hear that.”

“I’m sure it was just a mistake that they didn’t call for you,” Hoseok rushed to reassure him. “You could come with us. I don’t think the elder would mind.”

The older boy’s gaze was filled with discomfort... and pity. 

Jimin cleared his throat and forced up a sunny smile. 

“No that’s fine - I have work to do anyways so...”

Jungkook nodded quickly, desperate to escape the unexpectedly awkward conversation. 

“Have fun!” he shouted, already beginning to jog away. 

Jimin watched quietly as their figures grew smaller, waiting till their clumsy steps no longer disturbed the stillness around him. 

He should be used to it by now... 

The passive rejection. 

It shouldn’t bother him anymore. There was no malicious intent... just casual dismissal again and again and again-

An angry roar tore past his lips as he brought his hand down on the board. 

It cracked in half. 

———◐———

Eight Years Ago...

———◐———

“It’s strange but - I feel like the better I become at this, the stronger my wolf is.”

“That isn’t strange at all. You and your wolf are two halves of a whole. The more you balance your energy, the more your strengths can be shared. Now - stop stalling and get to it.”

Jimin eyed Taemin’s latest idea with a reluctant groan.

“None of the other students have to break cinder block.”

“None of the other students are wolves. Besides, it’s been 6 years, you’ve broken stacks of boards. It’s time for a real challenge.”

“I’m lucky I haven’t broken a bone,” Jimin mumbled irritably. 

He did that day, but it was healed in a week and he broke his first cinderblock a month later.

———◐———

Five Years Ago...

———◐———

“Remember, timing is everything. Never let your opponent see what you’re going to do.”

“How many times do you think I’ve heard that over the last ten years?”

“Not enough, clearly. You’re still telegraphing with that right foot.”

Jimin’s left hand shot out and connected with Taemin’s jaw.

“Am I?”

Taemin blinked up at him from the floor. 

“Ok. I admit. That was pretty impressive.”

———◐———

Three Years Ago...

———◐———

“Oh! I’m so sorry, I was looking for Jin.”

Jimin scrambled to his feet, dumping the pile of pebbles he collected (for his mother’s garden) noisily to the ground.

“Luna...”

He took a discreet step backward as your gaze scanned the area in frustration. 

“You haven’t seen my cousin, have you?”

Jimin gulped. 

He had seen Kim Seokjin - leading a curvy beta girl (nose first no doubt) in the direction of the old wading pool. It took every bit of self-restraint he possessed not to laugh out loud each time Jin bashfully declared that he was a ‘good boy’ and to ‘be gentle with him,’ - after all, he’d given the same speech to two other she-wolves last week. 

Best not to scar her for life. Some things cannot be unseen.

His mind darted briefly to the scene he’d walked into at Taehyung’s house yesterday.

“I have no idea where Seokjin is, Luna.”

You sighed, gnawing absently at your lip while you considered his words, and Jimin felt a familiar hint of futile longing whisper through him. 

He’d never been so close to you, and now that he was, his wolf was making all sorts of insane suggestions to keep you near. 

Do a backflip. Climb a tree. Build her a house. 

Jimin bent quickly to gather his scattered stones, ashamed at the direction of his thoughts. 

You were so incredibly beautiful...

It was almost enough to make him forget that he would only ever be Park Jimin.  

He couldn’t blame the others for fighting and fawning over your attention like they did. You were the moon and every man around you was drawn in like the tide. 

“Today is my seventeenth birthday, you know.”

Jimin looked up to discover that you had moved much closer and were now looking down at him expectantly. 

He blinked. Twice. 

“I - yes. I did know.”

The entire pack was celebrating. He’d have to be comatose not to know.

“Should I save you a dance, Park Jimin?”

Up until that exact second, Jimin would have bet his life savings that you did not know his name. 

Yet here you were - so very close to him - gazing down into his eyes almost shyly.

He nodded because he couldn’t think of a single reason not to give you anything you wanted. And when you smiled so brilliantly -  he almost believed that you truly wanted to dance with him...

Almost. 

He never went to your party. 

He never danced with you.

Not that day. Not ever.

Because deep down he suspected that if he held you in his arms - even once - he would never truly let go. 

He was sure you wouldn’t notice his absence...  You wouldn’t remember talking to him by the time the evening rolled around. 

He never saw you search the crowds for his face right up until the midnight bell. 

He never saw you turn down dance after dance hoping that the beautiful boy from the forest would finally come and take your hand. 

He was your only wish that birthday. 

But he never knew. 

———◐———

One Year Ago...

———◐———

“I’ve never seen anything like your skill. You’ve long since surpassed me. I’m not sure what more I can teach you,” Taemin smiled, bumping Jimin on the shoulder, “Perhaps you should find a woman and spend a little less time practicing.”

An unwelcome flash of silver eyes and a laugh like sunshine danced through his mind. 

“No. I’m... not really the type wolf girls go for.” 

Taemin snorted. 

“I don’t believe that. Aren’t you an alpha?”

“Yes, but it’s... complicated.”

“Isn’t everything?”

Jimin laughed. 

“Yes, I suppose it is.”

Silence settled comfortably between them as they nursed several bottles of soju on his grandmother’s porch. Taemin had charmed the old hellion quite thoroughly and he would often drop by for a visit even when Jimin was back home with his pack.

“So what will you do now?” he asked. “You can’t compete. I can barely withstand sparring with you, and you’d kill a human - even if you landed a blow at half strength.”

Jimin ran his fingers absently through his hair while he pondered his mentor’s words. 

“I learned to fight because I was searching for something that would help me sort out who I was.” He scoffed. “I don’t know that I’m any closer to that goal.”

Taemin shook his head. 

“No. I think you’ve got it all wrong, Park Jimin. No one achieves what you have without knowing who they are. You’ve always been a fighter and some part of you realizes that.” He sighed heavily and finished off the rest of his drink. “Now I think you’re just... waiting.”

“For what?” Jimin chuckled playfully. 

Taemin pulled out another bottle and met his gaze with a knowing grin. 

“Something worth fighting for.”

———◐———

Now...

———◐———

Jimin remained unnaturally still, watching his rival barrel towards him with almost calculated intent. 

Namjoon’s arm drew back to land the first strike and- 

It was fast. 

So fast it almost seemed like magic. 

One moment the Kim alpha was the barest breath away from a swift and decisive victory-

Then he was crashing backwards onto the dirt. 

Those who watched carefully saw Park Jimin spin into a vicious kick, one that connected solidly with the middle of his opponent’s chest. 

Stunned silence pressed in from every side as Namjoon scrambled back to his feet, his expression wavering wildly between excruciating pain and monumental shock. 

Jimin smiled, letting his razor sharp canines lengthen menacingly as he flowed back into a perfect combat stance. 

“You didn’t think I’d just let you have her, did you?”

Please comment if you would like to be added to the taglist! If you have already asked, you will be tagged automatically in every update. 

Please please please let me know what you thought of this chapter! (*insert puppy face here*) I am so excited to hear what you think of everything that went down in this update and I savor each word of feedback like fine wine. Your theories and commentary have been such a gift. It truly keeps me writing. 

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[chierafied]

Intervention

For @jilychallenge, July 21. Theme: Idiots in Love

Partner: The lovely and amazing @the-dream-team! 💙💙 Please go read their fun fic!

Prompt: sirius locks lily and james in a cupboard (or another enclosed space of your choosing) in an attempt to play matchmaker. shenanigans ensue.

4,728 words. Also on AO3.

---

The door of the dormitory slams open and James Potter strides in. He crosses the room quickly, throws himself on his four-poster bed, letting out a groan as his face smashes into the pillow, glasses and all.

Sirius is lounging in his own bed, enjoying the treacle tart he pilfered from the kitchens just after classes ended. Chewing on his stolen treat, he silently studies his mate’s prone figure. He can all but feel the misery radiating off of James.

There are only two things that Sirius knows can send James into such an obvious show of despair: a defeat on the Quidditch field and Lily Evans.

As it’s a Monday and the next Gryffindor game is three weeks away, Sirius is left with one option.

For a while, he wonders if he should weigh in at all. For the sake of his own sanity, it might be better to just leave James to it. Maybe go down to the Common Room and find Peter for a game of Exploding Snap.

But then his conscience pricks him, reminding him that this heartsick idiot is also his best mate.

“What’s she done this time,” Sirius drawls.

“What?” James flops on his bed and stares at Sirius, his hazel eyes dull behind his glasses.

“What has Evans done to cause this cloud of doom?” Sirius asks again, waving his hand to compass James and his misery.

“You remember that she had a date with Andrew Buchanan last Hogsmeade weekend?”

Ahh, yes. That was right. James had been moping all weekend about that and wouldn’t even agree to sneak out to the Three Broomsticks on Friday night.

“I think you mentioned something about that, yeah,” Sirius answers, thinking back to the two-hour rant he’d been subjected to that Saturday afternoon when they’d come back from Hogsmeade.

“The date went really well, apparently. They’re officially going out now.”

Sirius swallows his knee-jerk response of so what with a grimace. “I’m sorry to hear that, mate.”

He’s not, really, of course. But he is sorry that James is reduced to this pathetic miserable lump because of Evans.

“He’s not good enough for her,” James declares sullenly. “Sadly, that’s up to Evans to decide,” Sirius replies, thinking Evans could do much worse than Buchanan. He’s an OK lad, for a Ravenclaw.

“I know.” James sighs. “It’s just… hard.”

Sirius weighs his options. And though he has approached this subject before – not always successfully, either – he can’t help to voice his honest opinion.

“Look, mate… Evans is great. But maybe the two of you are better off as friends, yeah? You’ve been mooning after her for years now and have only been making yourself miserable. I think it’s time to let go, Prongs. Time to move on.”

The silence in the room is so loud that Sirius has time to think up all manner of swear words, thinking he completely bollocksed it up again.

But to his surprise, when James does reply, his voice is quiet but assenting. “Yeah. I think you’re right, Sirius.”

Glowing with righteous victory, Sirius flashes James a smile. “Don’t worry, mate, I’m here for you.”

---

The party is raucous and in a full swing when Sirius, exhausted from all the dancing, plops down on an empty sofa in the corner of the Gryffindor Common Room. He takes a long swig from his bottle of Butterbeer – which might have been spiked with good strong mead courtesy of Hagrid, but no one’s the wiser which is how Sirius prefers to keep it.

Across the room, at the edge of the area designated as the dance floor, James is standing, his arm casually slung around Bethany Narang’s shoulders. He is giddy with his Quidditch victory, though that is probably not the only reason he’s let Bethany stick to his side all evening. 

Prongs is finally doing it. Moving on. Sirius couldn’t be prouder and salutes him with his bottle.

He’s taking another long pull of the delicious mix of alcohol when the sofa dips down. Lily Evans slumps beside him, tucking her feet under her as she curls into the corner of the sofa.

“Rare to see you out of the action,” she quips once she’s settled.

Sirius slants her a glance. “Needed to take a breather. You’re usually out there getting your dance on, too.”

“I did, for a while. But I’m tired now.”

She looks tired, too, resting her cheek against the armrest. 

“It’s ok to bow out early, Evans. No shame in that.”

“I know. I’m going in a bit.”

Silence settles over them. Sirius sips his drink. Lily rests. It’s peaceful in their little corner. Companionable.

And they have a good view of the rest of the room.

James bends his head to Bethany, whispers something in her ear. Bethany giggles, tilts her head.

Get it, Prongs, Sirius silently urges him, taking a sip of his mead-enhanced Butterbeer.

And he does.

“Funny,” Lily comments with a chuckle. “I never took Potter as the PDA sort.”

Her voice is light and airy, brimming with amusement. And as she watches Prongs snog Bethany in the full view of the entire Common Room, eliciting cheers and hoots and laughter and teasing from the crowd around them, Sirius watches her.

Lily’s lips are curved in a smile but something about it doesn’t seem quite right to Sirius. Her eyes, even in the dim room, seem duller and darker. Something lingers there, which Sirius recognises only too well.

“Neither did I,” he replies at last. “But it’s good to see him moving on, right?”

Lily’s smile twists. “Yeah. It’s great.”

Silence returns, but now it has an edge to it. Brittleness overlaying the earlier camaraderie.

Lily uncurls from her cosy position.

“Well, I guess I should go get some sleep. Good night, Sirius.”

“Night, Lily,” he wishes her, but she’s already walking away.

Sirius’ gaze trails her as she hurries through the crowd, giving a wide berth to James and Bethany, who’re still lost in one another.

Sirius scowls, uneasiness coiling in the pit of his stomach. He can’t quite shake that look in Lily’s eyes. What it might have meant. And whether he might after all be in the wrong.

---

It’s a sunny and warm April day and Sirius is in a great mood. There’s nothing better than being out with his lads and it’s a nice change to stroll the main street of Hogsmeade in bright daylight, no matter how much fun it is to sneak out in the evenings. They’ve just raided Honeydukes and left with their bags bulging. Remus and Peter have split off to go visit the book shop and the post office so Sirius is left alone with James to wander the village. A group of girls exits Madam Puddifoot’s down the street. Bethany Narang is among them and perks up at the sight of them, smiling and waving at James.

Sirius swallows a snort. Bethany has dropped more than one hint about the Hogsmeade weekend being a great opportunity for a date, but Prongs has brushed them off in good humour. 

Now, too, he waves back to Bethany and then turns to Sirius. “How about Zonko’s?”

“Sure.”

They enter the joke shop, Sirius trailing after James. “You know, you probably could still snag that date with Bethany if you wanted, she seems interested.”

“Nah,” James replies as he meanders through the shop. “She’s nice and all but I’m not really interested.” 

“Uhhuh,” Sirius says, wondering if his assessment of Prongs moving on was too hastily drawn. Still, he hasn’t really mentioned Evans once for the past week so that must be progress, right?

They browse through the shop but nothing really catches their eye.

“Should we go to the Three Broomsticks?”

“Yeah,” James agrees. “Remus and Peter will probably finish their errands soon, too.”

Back on the main street Sirius spots the dark red hair right away and grimaces. Lily Evans is walking ahead of them, hand in hand with Andrew Buchanan. They’re laughing together and Sirius slants a glance at James. 

His gaze is fixed on the couple, his jaw clenched as he watches them.

“Evans looks happy,” Sirius carefully comments.

“She does, yeah,” James replies. 

They walk a few more steps in silence.

“I’m glad. She deserves to be happy,” James continues.

They’re almost at the Three Broomsticks when James speaks up one last time. 

“I’m happy for her.”

Behind his back, Sirius rolls his eyes. The strain in Prongs’ voice belies his words. 

And later, as all four of them are together at a table, sharing drinks and laughs and enjoying themselves immensely, Sirius can’t help noticing that James’ gaze keeps darting to the corner table where Evans sits with her boyfriend.

Much as his mate is trying to move on, it seems to be easier said than done.

---

It’s Monday evening and Sirius is in a storage room in the dungeons, organising the items stored and refilling the jars and boxes and bottles littering the shelves.

Lily is in the adjoining Potion’s Classroom doing preparatory work for tomorrow’s lessons at Slughorn’s desk.

“I should get assigned detention with you more often, Evans,” Sirius quips, calling out to the next room. “This is the cushiest detention I’ve ever been in.”

“I didn’t do anything,” Lily replies. “Professor Slughorn intervened with Professor McGonagall. I figure he felt bad that we got into trouble because of Slytherins.”

“I’ve got into plenty of fights before with Slytherins and Slughorn’s done nothing to cushion the detention. So where I’m standing it’s all because of you.”

“Well, it’s all because of me and my blood status that the Slytherins jumped at us in the first place,” Lily says, her voice wry. 

“I won’t let you hog all the credit for that,” Sirius counters. “I’m not very popular among their ilk either.”

“Not after that masterful Inpendiment Hex you aren’t. You’re a good partner to have in battle, Sirius.”

“Likewise. You’re quick on your feet and your wandwork is excellent.”

“Thank you. I’m glad to hear that. Especially after the scolding I got from Andrew.”

“Why would your boyfriend give you a hard time for getting jumped by a group of hex-happy Slytherins?” Sirius asks, baffled. He moves to the doorway of the storage room and leans against the doorframe to watch Evans.

“I think mostly he got angry because he was worried I might have got hurt,” she says. “He’s really sweet. But he does not approve of fighting.”

“You didn’t start it, though.”

“I know. I guess Andrew feels I shouldn’t have reacted with violence.”

Sirius snorts. Deep inside him, the bitter anger of experience simmers. “There’s no reasoning with bigots.” 

“I could’ve walked away, I suppose.”

Sirius shakes his head. “No. Someone could’ve walked away, yeah. But not you. It’s not how you’re built, Evans. How we’re built.”

Their eyes meet from across the room and Lily smiles.

“Thanks, Sirius. That makes me feel better.”

“Don’t mention it.” Sirius shrugs.

Lily turns back to the Potion prep.

“Sorry for unloading you like that. I was a bit upset since it was the closest to a row I’ve had so far with Andrew. He’s been really great, but I guess there will always be things we disagree on.”

“Yeah, that’s only natural,” Sirius says. “You’ll figure it out.”

“I’m sure we will,” Lily agrees.

Or maybe they won’t. But Evans will manage either way, of that Sirius is sure.

And suddenly, he is taken back to the moment of miserable moping Prongs imparting him the news of how Lily had started dating. James’ sullen voice echoes in his head. ‘He’s not good enough for her.’

Now, a part of Sirius can’t help but agree.

---

Sirius lounges in a hammock in the Potter’s back garden, reading a book and enjoying the sunshine. It is quiet and peaceful and relaxing, which is all well and good… But inside, Sirius is starting to itch a little bit. Reaching that part of summer holidays when that giddy sense of freedom is starting to pass and there’s so much time and yet somehow very little to do.

Maybe he can talk James into going to visit Muggle London with him someday soon. They could go to the cinema, that would be grand.

And as if thinking of Prongs summons him, Sirius’ peaceful reading time is shattered when James strides into the garden.

He’s wearing a shit-eating grin and waving a letter in the air.

“Sirius! You’ll never guess what happened.”

“OK, then I won’t.”

“Just got a letter from Marlene, she says hi –”

“Tell her hi back then.”

“– and she says Evans broke up with Buchanan.”

“What shocking news,” Sirius replies, his voice dripping with sarcasm. “It was only a matter of time, really.”

“What?”

“I had a feeling, back when Lily and I were stuck on detention together and she told about their fight. Different opinions and personalities.” Sirius shrugs.

“And you didn’t tell me?”

“Why would I have? You told me just last week, and I quote, that you were ‘totally over Evans’.” 

Though for someone who’d voiced such a lofty claim, James is looking much too happy about Lily’s breakup, in Sirius’ opinion

“Well, I am! Obviously,” James insists. Sirius remains unconvinced. “But we’re still friends, right, Evans and I! So I still want to know how she’s doing.”

“You should practice holding your grin in check before you go and offer her your heartfelt consolations,” Sirius tells Prongs.

He shakes his head and stalks off.

Sirius gets back to his book.

Three weeks later, another letter arrives, this time causing much more mayhem. Sirius is skimming through the lines of his own letter when James bursts into his room. 

“Did you get yours, too, Prongs?” he asks, not even bothering to look up from the parchment as he’s busy taking in the book list.

“I got more than I bargained for,” James says, flopping down next to him on the bed.

Sirius frowns and turns to slant him a glance. “What do you mean.”

“Look at this.”

Sirius does. He stares at the gleaming object on James’ palm, trying to make sense of it because surely it can’t be what it looks like.

“Is that a Head Boy pin?” he asks.

“Yes,” James says.

“And it was enclosed with your letter?”

“Yes.”

“And you’re sure they haven’t made a mistake?”

“Yes.”

“Bloody hell, Prongs. Are you planning on going all respectable on me, now?”

“I guess I’ll have to be,” he says and tugs at his hair as he often does when nervous.

Sirius can’t blame him. Poor bloke, having so much responsibility shoved onto his shoulders. Still, better Prongs than him. At least Prongs will likely do a decent job of it. Although…

“Do you know who the Head Girl is?”

“Yeah, actually, they told me that in the letter too.” James’ fingers are making even more of a mess of his hair and he isn’t quite meeting Sirius’ eyes so he knows the answer already.

“It’s Lily, isn’t it,” he says, and when James nods, Sirius isn’t sure whether to laugh or cry.

---

Less than a month into the autumn term, Sirius is deep in the stacks in the Hogwarts library, actually trying to get homework done for once – and if he can look up some charms and hexes he can appropriate for pranking purposes, all the better. He can multitask. But his diligent work is rudely interrupted by Lily Evans. 

She sits at his table without an invitation and leans her elbows on the table. "You're a hard man to find."

“I’m not trying to be found, I’m trying to work,” he replies, trying to ignore her.

“Well, can that wait for a bit?”

Sirius’ head snaps up with that. Lily Evans, encouraging him to put off homework? Sure enough, there is something troubled lurking in her green eyes and she’s biting her lip.

“What do you need, Lily?” he asks, his tone gentler now.

“Just a moment or two of your time. And some… information.”

“Information on what?

Her cheeks look a little flushed now and there’s a sudden sinking feeling in the pit of Sirius’ stomach. Surely, she can’t…

“James used to fancy me, right? I mean he even asked me out that one time in the fifth year though I don’t think he was being serious… But I wasn’t just imagining it, right?”

“You weren’t imagining it, he was pretty into you,” Sirius replies, feeling much like a deer in headlights at this entire conversation.

“But he must have moved on by now, right? I mean he still can’t… Can he?”

Sirius pinches the bridge of his nose, wondering what dastardly deed he has done to earn this privileged position of being a soundboard for Prongs’ and Lily’s respective love lives – or lacks thereof.

He levels a stare at Lily and crosses his arms. “Why do you want to know?” 

“I broke up with Andrew during the summer break. After three weeks or so back home at my parents’ I just suddenly realised I didn’t miss him at all and that isn’t really a good sign so I figured… Anyway, I got my Hogwarts letter at last. I got my Head Girl pin. And I read that James Potter would be the Head Boy. And that’s when I realised I had feelings.”

That last word comes out as a hiss and Sirius raises his eyebrow.

“You have feelings for James,” he echoes, wondering at the universe’s perverse sense of humour.

“Yes. And I don’t know what to do about them. Or if I should do anything about them. I mean I don’t even know if there’s a chance that…”

“Look, Lily,” Sirius cuts in. He’s had enough. “I’m sure this all is a shock to you and I understand that you want a confirmation about certain things before you can decide what to do about it all but you’re going about this all wrong.”

“What do you mean?”

“You shouldn’t be talking to me. It’s James you need to seek out and have a chat with.”

Her shoulders hunch. She deflates in front of his eyes and gives a slow nod.

“You’re right. I’m sorry I bothered you.”

Lily gets up and slinks out.

And though Sirius doesn’t regret his words and knows he’s in the right, there are pricks of guilt plaguing him when he returns to his homework.

---

A month goes by. A whole month of stolen glances and longing stares, of too-loud laughter to one another’s jokes. Of flushed cheeks and biting lips, of mussed-up hair and awkward grins. Of gravitating towards each other’s company. Sitting together in class, heading off to Head Student meetings and Prefect meetings, sharing a sofa in the Common Room.

A whole month of small meaningless conversations, of yearning not given a voice, of a thousand important words going unspoken.

Lily Evans hasn’t talked to James.

And after a whole month of their nonsense, Sirius is fed up with both of them.

---

Sirius opens the supply closet and James strides in; starts to rummage through the shelves.

“What kind of a prank did you have in mind?” he asks, rifling through all the piles of assorted items stuffed into storage and then promptly forgotten about. “Replace the regular ink with vanishing ink? Put an Anti-Cheating Charm on all these spare rolls of parchment here? Oh, maybe we could hex the quills to –”

“Expelliarmus!”

James’ wand is yanked from his hand. It soars through the air to Sirius’ waiting palm.

James whips around to frown at his mate.

“What the hell, Sirius?”

“This is for your own good, Prongs,” Sirius says. Then he shuts the door and locks James into the closet.

---

Lily sets down the textbook and scowls at Sirius. “Missing? What do you mean James is missing?”

“I mean James isn’t here or in the dorm and no one knows where he’s gone. He could be locked in a supply closet for all that I know,” Sirius says, throwing his hands in the air in frustration. “Anyway, I thought you might want to help me look for him since it isn’t a good look for the Head Boy to be wandering about after curfew.”

“Give me a second, I’m coming.”

Lily runs up the stairs to her dorm room and leaves her textbook there. As she’s heading out the door, she grabs a pouch off of a side table and stuffs it into her pocket. She rushes back down to the Common Room, where Sirius is tapping his foot.

“Let’s go,” she tells him and Sirius jumps to match her step as they climb out the portrait hole accompanied by the sleepy grumblings of the Fat Lady.

“Where could that idiot have got off to,” Lily wonders out loud, tucking her wand behind her ear.

“Let’s try this way first,” Sirius suggests.

Eventually, they stroll along the abandoned fourth-floor corridor, when a muffled sound around the corner catches their attention.

“Come on. You’ve had your laugh, you can let me out now.”

Lily turns to share a quick glance with Sirius. “That’s James.”

She sprints ahead, rounds the corner and zeroes in on the rattling handle of a supply closet just a few yards out.

Lily shakes her head in disbelief and then she’s running over to grab the handle.

“James? We’ll get you out, just give me a moment.”

“Lily? Oh, thank Merlin.”

Lily reaches for her wand – only to realise it’s no longer there, tucked behind her ear.

“What?” she stammers, turning around.

Sirius is holding her wand and pointing his own at her.

“Sorry, Lily, but needs must.”

“Sirius, you bloody bastard!” comes James’ muffled yell from the closet.

And then quicker than Lily’s brain can catch up with what’s going on, the closet door springs open and a well-aimed shove has her stumble against furious James.

They collide and stagger – and behind them, the closet door ominously bangs shut, followed by the definite click of the lock.

“Well, bugger,” James mutters in her ear and Lily can’t help but to agree.

---

James thought being locked in a supply closet was bad, but being locked in a supply closet with Lily Evans is infinitely worse. Her floral scent is teasing his nose and in the enclosed space he can feel the heat radiating from her body and it’s all very distracting. It’s hard to remember that he’s completely over his silly old crush. The darkness isn’t helping either. Evans is standing close, but he can only make out an outline of her, hand stuffed in her pocket. He can feel the weight of her stare on him, it’s making his neck tingle.

Rather than deal with any of that and those pesky fluttery emotions he’s most definitely not feeling, James turns and slams his fist at the door.

“Enough, Sirius! What the hell is wrong with you?”

“With me?” His incredulous voice comes through the door. “What the hell is wrong with you two idiots? I told you, Lily, all you had to do was to have one conversation but no!”

James glances at Lily. “What is he talking about?” he whispers, but Lily only shakes her head.

“So you two stay there and listen. Prongs, you’ve been pining after Evans for years now. It’s pathetic and we all know it and no matter how many times you tell me you’re over her, it’s painfully obvious you aren’t. Lily, you know I was right and you know you’re overdue a very honest conversation so just acknowledge your feelings and talk already for my sanity’s sake! Get it over with. I’ll be back for you in the morning.”

James’ ears seem to be ringing and he’s a little light-headed. The muffled sound of Sirius’ retreating footsteps is deafening in the thick silence shrouding them.

Flustered, James buries his fingers in his hair and slumps against the door. “I’m really sorry about this, Lily. He’s clearly lost his bloody mind.”

“No, he hasn’t,” Lily sighs. With a rustle of robes, she sits down on the stone floor, wrapping her arms around her knees. “He’s right, actually. And if either of us owes an apology for this mess, it’s me.”

James slides down to sit on the floor as well, his long legs stretched out. He frowns at her vague outline, wishing he could see her expression. Maybe that would help him understand.

“What do you mean?”

“There’s something I need to tell you, James. I just haven’t been able to. I’m not sure when it actually started. Probably it’s been going on a while, I just haven’t been aware of it. But then, last summer there just came a moment when I realised what had happened.”

James’ heart is beating faster now, his breath caught in his throat. He thinks he knows what Lily is talking about, but it can’t be right. He doesn’t dare to hope.

Lily’s voice is soft in the darkness. “You’re funny and fit and brilliant and sweet and kind and clever and brave and bold. So it’s no wonder that I fancy you.”

Time stops and the world tilts. James’ mind can’t quite process the words but his heart is singing and pure emotion balloons in his chest. A victorious roar rushing through his veins. 

James’ brain is still stuck on trying to catch up with Lily’s confession so there is no conscious thinking involved. He reaches for her in the dark and pulls her close. Her fingers trail up his arm, her hand settles on his shoulder. Her hip brushes against his raised knee. His hand finds the small of her back.

Her breath is warm, that teasing floral scent intoxicating, the bare skin of her neck like silk under his fingers.

And then his lips crash against hers or maybe she leans in to press hers against his – it doesn’t really matter because it’s a kiss of James’ dreams. The one he has yearned for so very long and the reality is so far beyond anything he has imagined. He didn’t think such a perfect kiss was possible. And in that moment, and all the moments that will follow, he loves Lily Evans all the more.

---

Lily shifts her weight, trying to settle. She doesn’t want to move, leaning against James and resting her head on his shoulder is the happiest place she’s ever been.

But the stone floor is hard and cold and her bum is growing numb.

So she squeezes James’ hand and asks: “Do you want to wait until morning?”

“I mean I can’t complain about the company but I wouldn’t want to spend a whole night stuck in a supply closet. Not that we have much choice.”

“Well…” Lily drawls, slipping her hand out of his. “We do, actually.”

“What?”

Lily gets up and takes a few short steps to the door. From the pocket of her robe she pulls out a small pouch and reveals the lockpick she’s been carrying with her. 

And then she sets to work. She can feel James’ gaze bore to her back as she carefully jiggles at the tumblers in the lock. Once they each click to place, she straightens and swings the door open.

In the torchlight streaming in from the corridor, she meets James’ eyes. Their hazel depts are muddy with mixed emotion – awe, amusement, incredulity.

“Are you telling me you could have done that the whole time?”

“Yes.” Lily shrugs. “But then, Sirius went to a lot of trouble and he was right about us needing to have that long-overdue discussion.”

James’ grin is wide, his hazel eyes warm in a way that makes Lily’s stomach flop.

“Lily?”

“Yes?”

“I’m going to kiss you again now.”

She smiles bright enough to light up the night and steps closer. His arms come around her just as she threads her fingers in his hair. As promised, his lips claim hers – slow, sweet and lingering.

It's the kind of kiss she can lose herself in, a kiss that makes the world fall away, a kiss that bends time so that five seconds feel like forever. It's the kind of a kiss that makes Lily fall in love with James Potter all over again.

---

End.

#jily #jily fanfic #jilychallenge #the dream team #idiots in love #chie writes #fic: JL

[liyuesbian]

✧ pygmalion!au [ningguang]

notes: btw idk how commissions from museums work i just made the process up LMAO and this one's kinda angsty? i mean, it is the pygmalion greek myth so iykyk. also, i describe this figurine of ningguang here but w/o the colour... i've linked it in case any1 needs the reference. (btw, this is not set in ancient greece specifically)

only yesterday had you been commissioned by an art gallery in the capital to create a piece for their up-and-coming collection titled desire, love and identity. yet here you are, slaving away to make the perfect image you had in your head come into fruition. your vision is exquisite once sketched on paper—you can't find any faults in it so you take the risk.

as soon as your chisel meets the marble, a feeling so invigorating dominates your body. no further references are necessary as you place your trust entirely on your hands, coarse from the labour. you find such mindless toil addicting and you work day and night, only stopping for a half-baked meal and the odd collapse into bed.

for months, love streams out of the tips of your fingers and through your sculpting tools to arrive at the stone figure. you sincerely hope the intimate emotion has been reached.

when you finish, you wipe the bead of sweat running down your forehead, rest the other palm on your hip and take slow steps backwards all while maintaining eye contact with the statue. a wave of sweet relief hits you and you fall to the floor, uncontrollably sobbing into tired hands that still grip the hammer and chisel.

it's beautiful.

you stagger, struggling to get up with your bruised knees while clumsily wiping the tears off your stained cheeks. setting the instruments aside, you lift your head to admire your handiwork up close. a woman made of stone sits elegantly atop an oriental chair, crossing her smooth, white legs over each other. her left elbow is propped on the arm of the chair while on the other side, a long smoking pipe is balanced between gloved fingers. around her lies an assortment of objects: a vase containing scrolls, a floor lamp, and a charmingly decorated folding screen.

you see, you had already thought it all out. you'd imagined ningguang's preferences for a life of luxury, her affinity for constructing and sprucing up interiors. she would be a master of the trades and a woman who likes to keep an air of mystery around her. and like how you increasingly project her to be more of a person than she ever will be, there is a creeping concern in the corner of your mind that you will lose your rationality just as quickly.

the sculpture's body is clad in a qipao with a slit that reveals alabaster skin below the waist. the dress—embellished with patterns and neat linings—hugs her figure and shows off a lean build. the extensive train and sleeves of the fabric are shaped curvaceously to mirror the flow of a waterfall. and her face. the section you strived so hard to refine. she stares at you with an imperious expression and a hint of a smirk. her gaze, so piercing, makes you avert your eyes in shyness but you find yourself gravitating back to her profile.

you muster up the courage to draw closer to your creation and unconsciously stroke her cheek with your thumb, captivated. if she were an empress, you'd be a common peasant—undeserving of setting your sights on such a goddess. you can feel your soul being sucked into eyes devoid of emotion—of anything, actually. after all, the woman sitting before you is not a person but an inanimate object.

the weeks following the completion of ningguang—which is the name you've picked up the habit of calling her—are spent in said lady's company. every minute of every day, you surround yourself with her presence as if she is your closest friend. you eat with her, tell her your troubles, even going so far as to decorate her with various types of jewellery and bringing her gifts you think she'd like.

"thank you," you whisper. "for always listening to me." in truth, you're always so immersed in your work that you forgot what conversations could feel like. though, you fear your art would never be on par with something so transcendent ever again.

you become curious, wondering what she would be like if the nymph in front of you were not just a figment of your imagination.

you perch yourself on top of ningguang's stone-cold lap and trace the contours of her visage. you inspect each crease on her lips and the minuscule crinkles in her eyes, applauding yourself for the well-crafted details. you don't know what possesses you but you close your eyes and press your lips against hers, hoping that once you open them, a living being would erupt from underneath the marble. but, of course, as soon as the light hits your retinas, ningguang is as unmoving as ever.

realising what you've just done, you drop off of her thighs and laugh anxiously. however, you could've sworn that you had felt warmth in the lips of your beloved muse.

"i've finally gone mad!" you cry aloud.

hell, you say to yourself, is it even possible to fall in love with such an... an artefact? you dismiss your glaringly obvious infatuation.

"nonsense," you mutter under your breath, sensing your heart breaking slightly. how can something so painfully humanlike also not be human at the same time? you must've caused a tremendous atrocity in your past life to have made the gods harbour a grudge against you. of all things, you'd never have guessed that a lifeless piece of art would be the object of your desire.

you can't bear to look at the handcrafted lady any longer and with an anguished face, cover her with a large cotton cloth. the plan was to wait until you could hand the statue over to the curators and try to ignore its existence until then.

for a few days, you act according to the plan, going about your daily routine but eventually, your stoic demeanour crumbles. you lock yourself in your room refusing to eat or believe that your affection would never be returned.

during the hours of sunlight, you weep under your sheets, drowning in self-inflicted sorrow. and at night, you do the same, lamenting over the loss of what could've been your true love. she would've been so perfect in your eyes, your other half, and the only one who could calm this growing turmoil!

the reality pains you. hence, you do the only thing you can do: you pray. you pray to the gods for a miracle, that the light of your life would stride into your room and pull you from the depths of despair... but she never does.

your last day "cohabitating" with the sculpture has arrived and for the first time in—what felt like—an eternity, you open the doors to your workshop. taking a deep breath, you unveil the stationary maiden.

it's still as beautiful as you remember.

you give it a sad smile, wanting to get its departure over and done with. you manoeuvre about the room to prepare the things for the movers who're due to come in a couple of hours. while you go down your little list of errands to be done, you cough and bat away the smoke—wait, the smoke? frantic, you spin around, eyes darting everywhere in search of its origin until they land on the smoking pipe you so intricately moulded for the commissioned piece.

it's strange, you don't recall colouring the statue. and how on earth is smoke coming out of the pipe? suspicious, you approach the motionless entity and almost stumble when you spot its chest rising.

oh lord! — i really must be descending into madness! you clutch your head, clawing at your hair in hysteria.

"stop, please don't hurt yourself." the sound of a low, worried voice penetrates your ears. you shut your eyes tight.

"no, the gods have cursed me! i mustn't listen to your poisonous words!" you exclaim. your state of agitation is alleviated when the woman caresses your tensed arm.

"what has happened to you? i haven't seen you lately either." the tone is more soft and more tender than you had imagined. you release your grip.

"is it really you, ningguang?" your voice cracks at the end, and the woman you sought after witnesses your features twist into an expression of longing and hope.

"yes, my darling. i dare not go anywhere else."

helplessly, you rush to cup her face to check for heat, for the blood traversing under her skin—anything that would prove that your sweetheart is truly alive and breathing. and when you do get the confirmation, you beam, trying to withhold tears born from elation.

you bend down to kiss ningguang, who is still seated on the chair, once, twice, and three times to rid your scepticism. oh, deities! she's real.

"i love you," you declare.

"i know." you watch as the same creases you'd etched on the corners of her eyes spread into a loving half-moon shape and you kiss her again.

you reach a conclusion: you couldn't give away your lover—let alone a live person—to be displayed as part of a museum exhibition so when the workers arrive, you hide your muse away in another room. you apologise profusely and spin a lie, rambling on about how you had nothing to relinquish for the piece you had prepared had been oh-so-viciously stolen by a mob of trespassers!

the movers share with you their sympathies and ask what the work of art looks like and maybe they could sort something out with the authorities. nodding, you recount—so ardently—the details of your divine maiden. you feel heat rush to your face, chuckling when you realise that you'd run your mouth for too long.

in response to this, the two labourers exchange dubious looks as they peer at the static sculpture standing in the middle of the studio—its appearance unmistakably matching your elaborate description.

#ningguang #ningguang au #ningguang angst #ningguang x reader #ningguang headcanons #genshin #genshin impact #genshin x reader #genshin angst #genshin headcanons #genshin au #pygmalion au #ningguang imagines #genshin imagines

[lambourngb]

a skeleton of something more [2/6]

previously here. malex wip fic. a short serial leading up the premiere.

spoilers for the trailer and promo, will be instantly AU. If I’m going to the trouble of writing a malex fix-it for the season 3 opener, why not fix 2x13 too?

**** THEN **** 

After Alex closed Tripp’s journal, he met Michael’s gaze across the table at the Crashdown. 

His golden-brown eyes were heavy with pain, the reminder of how his mother’s story had ended was still fresh between them despite the span of months since the fiery end of Caulfield. What had resulted in being the fiery end of them, even though Alex hadn’t known it at the time. The look of sleeplessness in Michael’s face reminded Alex, that outside of this small piece of Nora, he had the weight of Maria still in the hospital recovering from the pathogen Flint had released. The press of the Deep Sky ring in his pocket warred with the hesitation to place one more burden on Michael, would the abacus of their fragile friendship balance out?

He flashed to that last argument in Michael’s bunker, a disaster of his own making, thinking he could believe in his father, but thankfully harm was averted at Crashcon. That recent memory was motive enough for Alex to decide. Whatever happened next, he needed Michael on the same page with him.

As Isobel moved to leave the table, explaining to Michael that she needed to check on Max, Alex held Michael’s gaze deliberately. Then he folded his fingers down, until the last three fanned out in a downward W. 

“After what happened with Maria, maybe you should come with me, Michael. You can help me shake some sense into Max,” Alex heard, tuning back into Isobel’s voice. Her eyes moved back and forth between them, a crease of suspicion wrinkling her upturned nose, as she stopped on him. “It’ll be a good distraction.”

Without looking at Isobel, Michael’s eyes remained trained on Alex’s hand. “No, thanks, I’m good here. I’ve had my fill of stubborn ass people who don’t want to listen to sensible advice from me, so I’ll catch up with you later, Isobel.” 

She made a dismissive huff but did not argue, leaving with the barest semblance of a polite goodbye to Alex, but that was typical Isobel Evans. Michael waited until his sister was on the other side of the door, before speaking quietly, his gaze finally moving up from Alex’s hands to his face. “I haven’t seen you flash that sign to me in years.” 

“Glad to know you haven’t forgotten it.”

“You, making the ‘wait for me, I want you now’ signal? Nah, that’s been burned into my brain over the years.” Michael said it with a faint trace of bitterness. “I guess news travels fast, Maria only dumped my ass this morning.”

Alex winced and looked down, swallowing the surprise and spark of hope that welled in his throat at that disclosure. It was better to concentrate on the unique talent he had of stepping on landmines around Michael, than wonder about what had happened with Maria. It looked like he was still good at causing harm without intention, judging by the stung bite in Michael’s voice. “Fuck, I’m sorry, I didn’t know. I wouldn’t have-”

“No, I’m sorry,” Michael cut off his apology firmly with a wave of his hand, calling a time-out. Alex waited, his teeth pressed into his lower lip as Michael rubbed his eyes with a weary half-smile. “I’m being an asshole right now, and that’s not fair to take it out on you. It’s been a shitty day already, and — anyway, … you definitely know how to get my attention, Alex.” He tilted his head, self-deprecation on his face, “for better or worse, you’ve always been good at that.” 

It had been the sign they had developed whenever their paths had crossed over the years while Alex had been on leave in Roswell, but it had started that summer after high school. After Michael’s hand had healed poorly from Jesse, the last three fingers had been left frozen in a claw, it had been a shared fuck-you to his dad to use it to form their own secret communication. A three-fingered W, turned upward meant it wasn’t a good time, and he would find Michael later; turned downward, well, that meant it was safe to approach him, and it had often ended in a hurried blowjob in his car. Perhaps he should have used more care in using it now, but Michael wasn’t the only one running on the fumes of insomnia and stress. “Sorry, I needed to talk to you, and I wanted to make sure you didn’t leave with Isobel-”

“It’s fine, really. It’s not a bad memory either, remembering that we had our little secret language.” Michael wiggled his fingers in reassurance, his left hand still wrapped with a bandanna. “I can make that signal a hell of a lot easier now, too. But anyway, what did you need?”

There was still a voice inside Alex’s head that said ‘you’, no matter how long it had been. He shoved that down deep, along with his curiosity about Maria, and concentrated on his purpose. “Your advice on something, and then if it’s not too much to ask, your help.”

“Anything.” 

Alex blinked, nonplussed by the easy acceptance. 

Michael gestured encouragingly, “seriously, anything, just tell me what’s going on because the way you’re hemming and hawing, it is freaking me out.” Suddenly, all expression washed out of Michael’s face as a horrible thought occurred to him. “Did you get deployed or something?”

“Not exactly, not how you’re thinking,” he winced at the earned glare from Michael as he continued to stall while the words still tripped and fumbled around his mouth, heedless to the mounting frustration between them both. He sighed, and regrouped. Pushing the closed journal aside, Alex dug into his pocket and laid the signet ring on the table before Michael. “Let me start at the beginning, I found this in my dad’s things.” 

“Jesse never seemed like a jewelry kind of guy to me.” Michael picked up the ring, examining it closely with a sarcastic smirk. “Other than parading around town with that wedding ring, when everyone knows your mom left him back during the Bush years, Dubya that is.”

“My father is all, was all, about appearances.” Alex placed the photo of the group on the table, sliding it over to him. “That ring marked his membership in this paramilitary group called Deep Sky. Every man in that photo worked at Caulfield, at one time or another.” He tapped his finger over the face of his father, then moved it to the right. “That’s my dad, and that is Ricky Long.”

Michael frowned, pulling the picture closer to squint at the faces. “Wyatt’s dad?”

“No, Forrest’s.”

“Nazi guy? Seriously?” He rubbed at his chin, the stubble longer than usual painting his jawline. Alex dragged his eyes away with effort as Michael considered that information. There was a reluctant understanding in his eyes, having recalled that Forrest Long wasn’t just ‘Nazi Guy’ to Alex, but someone who had expressed interest in Alex. Personal interest. “I guess that’s something you guys have in common then, dirtbag dads.” 

He didn’t look thrilled to admit that to Alex, but it was a mark of how far they had both come as friends that Michael had said it anyway regardless. It was kind of him. It was the same type of empathy Alex had extended toward Michael, when he had expressed interest in Maria. Cut open, bleeding under his skin from all the ways he had squandered his own chances, he had said something similar to Michael once upon a time. That was what love was all about. Then he had kept saying it, until he believed it most days because wanting Michael to be happy was the easier ask.

It was a gracious sentiment that was entirely wasted by Michael when it came to Forrest Long. 

“It would be, uh, something to bond over, if I hadn’t noticed that Forrest wears the same ring now.” 

Michael’s eyes sharpened. “Family heirloom or do you think he worked at Caulfield?”

“I don’t know, but he is an ex-Army vet.” Alex tapped the photo of the members gathered together, “That was part of what I’ve been looking into, identifying everyone who worked at Caulfield right until the end. As for Deep Sky, I don’t know if it’s military service, Caulfield, or a family legacy that ties every member together, I just know that Dad kept in touch with those who were involved at the prison.” 

“Makes sense, Jesse was able to get a hold of the atomizer and pathogen that Charlie developed from somewhere. For all of his strutting around at Crashcon with a uniform on, that didn’t look like it was an official use of government property.” 

“Right, it definitely wasn’t, and before you tell me to leave it alone-” Alex began, remembering Michael’s response to the investigation into 1947. He had considered Alex’s actions back then to be an act of futility, something that could only hurt by being revisited. The past being the past, unable to be altered. 

This time Michael cut him off, “No, I was wrong about that. I, um, I finally realized that just because I don’t see you connected to that place or the rest of your family, doesn’t mean you don’t. And while I wish that you didn’t, Alex, if digging into this gives you some sort of peace over it, then do it.”

Alex looked down, feeling the weight of relief that Michael understood. After his father’s body had been removed, after the questions and lies had been spun, he had spent the entire night sleepless over having been made into an effective weapon to force Michael’s compliance. Helena had known where all the weak spots were thanks to Flint, and had armed herself with a depowering agent. Once Flint was recovered, there was nothing stopping him from employing a similar tactic in the future.

“If anyone’s going to destroy me, it might as well be you.” Michael had once declared with a bold carelessness that had infuriated and terrified Alex at the time, but that was nothing compared to now having a lived experience to back it up. His mind had easily used the memory of Maria’s collapse after the faintest exposure at the Crashcon and had exchanged her with Michael, being torn apart molecule by molecule, by an invisible threat.

Give him an enemy that he could see any day, especially one that bled. 

“I’ve been fighting so long, I don’t know what peace looks like anymore.” Alex held out his hand for the ring, and Michael gently laid it in his palm, brushing his fingertips over Alex’s skin. A lifetime of controlling himself kept the reaction off his face as he rubbed his thumb over the raised emblem of Deep Sky. “But I have learned recently that when something seems too good to be true, it is.” 

Neither of them mentioned Jesse and his performance from the last few months, but Michael frowned again, “Wait a second, you think Forrest targeted you on purpose?” 

“A member of a secret paramilitary organization just happens to ask me out after I was involved in the destruction of Caulfield? You really think that’s a coincidence?” Alex raised his eyebrow skeptically at Michael, before looking out the window to watch the pedestrians on the street. 

“I think you’re the hottest guy in Roswell, so I’m not surprised he asked you out.” Michael flushed a little when Alex turned back to stare at him in surprise over the flattering comment. “Seriously, you’re a catch, but I will agree, it’s not a good look that he’s got that ring. But maybe it’s crap he wears because of his dad, and he’s got no idea he’s parading around?”

“You’re being awfully generous.”

“Isn’t that what you want? Because last time I checked, you were the one telling me that I should have faith in people, even if they give me no reason to.” Michael flattened his hands on the table, drawing Alex’s attention to the bandanna on his hand again. That damn fight kept echoing between them to Alex’s dismay, but Michael didn’t let him linger over it, “While I stand by what I said about Jesse, ‘cause he messes us both up, all I know about Forrest Long is that he is way too interested in Nazi history and he has good taste in guys.” Michael wetted his lips, nervously to tack on, “I also know that I trust you, and your instincts, so if you say there’s something not right about him, then I believe you.” 

“There’s something not right about him,” Alex repeated seriously.

“Then I believe you, so what do you need me to do?”

“He wants to get close to me for some reason, probably related to what I know about aliens, so I’m going to let him. And I need you to back me up in case something goes wrong, and maybe use that lock pick you have in your brain?” Alex waited until Michael nodded in agreement, feeling the swell of gratitude at his support. Anyone else would probably think he was being paranoid, or that this was a delayed reaction to his father trying to kill them, but Michael, for all of his previous counter-arguments, had never truly believed in the good of humanity. Maybe in a few days, Alex would feel guilty in relying on that. Maybe in a few days, his suspicions about Forrest would be eliminated.

“He’s involved in running the open mike night at the Wild Pony with Maria, so I thought maybe I could perform a song or something? He drives a Prius, and while he’s listening to me sing, you could slip out mid-song and insert this into the code reader of his car.” 

On the table was a small device that mimicked a thumb drive, small and black. It was the type of technology that Alex had used in the Air Force, tracking terrorists abroad. It had taken a fair amount of searching to purchase the equivalent stateside to have on hand. Michael picked it up curiously, turning over his hands.

“It’s designed to download the GPS history of his car,” Alex explained, before rubbing the back of his head in thought. “That’s how I uncovered what my dad was up to, first by tracking his movements. If I let Forrest take me home, I can gain access to his laptop and phone.”

Michael furrowed his brow in concern, “You’re really willing to go that far? And what if he is involved in something shady, what then?”

“My father and brother both used me to get to you, there’s really nothing I wouldn’t do to keep that from happening again and if it means playing along with this guy, letting him lead me to the members of Deep Sky? Then I will.” If anything, his words only deepened the concern on Michael’s face, but Alex had been committed for a long time. Since the red level threat. Since the short ride to the recruitment office. Maybe as far back as his guitar going missing in the music room.

“I’ve slept with guys for worse reasons.”

CONTINUED HERE

#Malex #roswell new mexico #malex fic #alex goes undercover #not forrest long friendly #getting back together #Season 3 speculation

[pirate-au]

A Pirate's Life for a Prince (Part 4)

Summary: Roman was a dashing Captain, content with his exciting life out at sea, diving head first into adventure both on and off land. He wouldn't give up his life for anything, and yet he found himself...lacking something. He was never sure what.

When he meets Virgil, a seemingly common traveler in an old tavern, that lacking feeling in his chest goes away for the first time in a long while. So surely there's no harm in offering the stranger and his friend a ride, right?

Notes: I owe @cheshirevalentine my life at this point <3

part 1 part 2 part 3 part 5 part 6

Roman had woken up early, the few hours of sleep he’d gotten thankfully peaceful after last night’s events- and after Logan had finally let him onto the bed and rubbed his back until he fell asleep.

He’d been up and around the ship since first light, slipping out of the cabin just as Logan had gotten up, bidding his first mate a quiet goodbye.

The Calypso was home, safe and familiar, and her decks calmed his head, his morning tasks a welcome distraction from the storm of thoughts racing through his mind.

He made his way to the bridge, trailing his fingers along the map on his desk, the battered old paper held down by various rocks and paperweights his crew had found and brought to him- like the bunch of crows they were. Roman loved them all the more for it.

He settled at the wheel, eyes on the endless sparkling ocean, singing a gentle song to himself as he watched the sunrise, content to let the hours flow peacefully by as the day began.

“Roman?”

The voice behind him was quiet, a little frantic, and the song died in Roman’s throat as he turned to find the Prince in the doorway, wide eyed and disheveled.

“Good morning, Prince Charming,” he said, forcing his tone light and turning back around. “Sleep well?”

Virgil was silent a moment, and Roman wondered if the nickname had been in poor taste before he finally spoke. “I… I’m sorry.”

“Whatever for?” he asked, keeping his tone gentle when he heard the discomfort in Virgil’s voice. “There’s nothing to be sorry for.”

“I lied,” Virgil said. “And I freaked out on you last night and- and I had a stupid panic attack. You shouldn’t have had to see that.”

Roman frowned, turning his head to look at Virgil. “I’m upset that you weren’t upfront with me about who you were. That’s all. Your panic attack wasn’t your fault, and it’s nothing to be angry about anyway.”

“It’s still annoying so I’m… I’m really sorry. And I’m sorry for lying about- about who I am. It wasn’t fair, I shouldn't have done this to you. I don’t… know what I was thinking.”

“I’m not annoyed or upset because you had a panic attack,” Roman reiterated, turning to face the Prince. “I know how it feels, and I pretty much caused it. I'd be a hypocrite to be mad."

“Oh. It’s… fine.”

“Besides,” Roman continued, letting himself smile softly. “I understand that you had to get out. Trust me, I get it more than you know. You did what you thought you had to.”

“Yeah,” Virgil agreed, quiet and resigned. “I just… I know you have a crew to protect but you were so welcoming and I just thought… I don’t even know. I- I’m sorry. I’m really sorry. Have we already turned around?”

“We aren’t turning around,” Roman said simply, and turned back to the wheel. “I told you that. You’re not going back there.”

“What?” The confusion and disbelief in Virgil’s voice made Roman’s heart twist painfully. “Yeah, you… you told me that when I was being a baby and you needed me to stop freaking out but you—”

“We're on the way to Deigh. The trip takes a while, so it will be several weeks before we get there, weather permitting. We stop in two weeks in Gladena for supplies. I wasn't telling you that to calm you down, I refuse to put you back in that situation. You don't deserve that.”

The bridge was silent, the air tense and heavy before Virgil found his voice again. “I don’t…what?”

Roman sighed, turning back around to face Virgil, dropping his arms to his sides. “You don’t deserve to go back to the people who hurt you, Virgil. You don’t deserve to be hurt. Ever again.”

“But you- you shouldn’t put yourself in danger for me,” Virgil argued, despite how clearly terrified he was to go back. “You have your ship to think about and it… it was awful of me to even ask. I… I shouldn’t have put you in this position.”

“I’m alright with a little danger, Virgil,” Roman soothed. “I’m a pirate. It’s nothing new. Thank you for your apology, but I’m not upset. I truly understand.”

Virgil stared, taking in the Captain’s words like he was trying to decipher if this was some sort of trick. He was horribly tense, eyes wary as they flickered over Roman and eyed the exit behind him.

“But, I…” he hesitated, shoulders hunching as he wrapped his arms protectively around himself. “Why aren’t you… aren’t you gonna like… do something?”

He gestured vaguely and Roman blinked, completely at a loss. “I don’t understand. What would I… do?”

Surely he didn’t mean the captain would call this a favor to repay in any way. He would never. Especially not since—

“I don’t know,” Virgil muttered. “I just thought… I figured you’d be more angry, I guess.”

“I mean, yes a little anger is justified,” Roman said, crossing his arms. “But I’m not going to hurt you. I said that, didn’t I?”

“I know.” Virgil hesitated, his bangs falling into his face when he ducked his head. “I just… couldn’t do much about it if you did. And I’d get it. I kinda deserve it, I’m putting you through a lot of stress.”

Roman’s heart damn near broke when he realized the boy in front of him, hurt and scared, wouldn’t even try to stop it if someone tried to hurt him. He thought he deserved it. He thought there was nothing he could do to protect himself, still expecting the worst.

“I—” He reached out and took a step forward, faltering when Virgil flinched, eyes wide. Roman’s face fell, slowly dropping his hand. “I won’t ever hurt you, Virgil. And should we come across anyone who would, I’d sooner shoot them between the eyes than see you hurt.”

Virgil’s voice was small when he spoke, dangerously unsteady. “Why? I mean, I- thank you but… we just met. And I lied to you! How do you know that I don’t… deserve it?”

Roman clasped his hands in front of him, guilt seizing his chest as his eyes dropped to the ground, lips pursed. He could remember feeling like this. It wasn't that long ago- how could he ever forget? Breaking down in front of Logan had been cathartic, of course he'd be able to sympathize with Virgil.

“No one deserves to be abused,” he said quietly. “Especially not you.”

Virgil scoffed, too small and quiet to be filled with any malice. “Patton is the only other person to ever think that, and he likes everyone. So don’t feel too bad if you change your mind.”

“I won’t change my mind,” Roman assured without hesitation. He frowned, fiddling with his still unloaded gun in his belt. “You don’t deserve to be hurt. I don’t want you to be hurt.”

He could see the tears gathering in Virgil’s eyes, the Prince desperately trying to hold them back. “I don’t know why you’re being so nice but… thank you. Thank you so much. I… I have no idea how to repay you.”

Roman was close to tearing up himself, swallowing hard around the lump forming in his throat.

“I- this is perhaps out of hand,” he said, and for once his voice was small. Confined to just the two of them. “Can I hug you? Is that alright?”

Virgil nodded quickly, then winced like he would be punished for his enthusiasm despite Roman being the one to offer in the first place. But he dropped his arms and took a cautious step forward, eyes still glued to the ground.

The Captain made his way towards the Prince, hesitant at first, careful not to spook Virgil. After that first, terrifying step towards each other Roman swiftly made it to Virgil’s side, no hesitation in wrapping his arms around the smaller man and holding him tight.

“I’m so sorry I scared you,” he whispered. “You don’t deserve to be hurt, I promise. You’re safe here.”

He felt Virgil’s breath hitch, listening with a crumbling heart as the Prince quietly cried into his chest, reaching up to return the hug and clutch at Roman’s jacket. “Thank you. I… I really really don’t want to go back.”

“You’re not going back.” Roman held him, hoping that he could at least provide the young man some comfort. It was all he could do for him, other than go back and kill every bastard that had ever dared to touch him. "Never again. You're not alone.”

“But what if… what if they come after me? What if- what if they—”

“Then they’ll be the first ones I run through with my sword,” Roman declared. “They won’t lay a finger on you ever again. You’re safe.”

Roman would say it a million times over if it meant Virgil would believe him. He meant every word. Virgil was safe here, and he always would be. He didn’t dare pull back, not with how desperately the Prince was holding him.

“It’s okay,” he said, dropping his forehead to rest on Virgil’s head when the young man only continued to sob. “I promise it’s okay. We’ll get you to Deigh, you’ll be safe there.”

“I’m sorry.” Virgil was right back to apologizing, barely audible from where his face was buried in Roman’s chest. “I’m so sorry for all of this. I don’t want anyone to get hurt because of me.”

“Don’t apologize,” Roman said, hand stroking Virgil’s hair. “I’m here. I’ll be okay, and so will you. You’re safe.”

Roman was careful to keep an eye on Virgil as his breathing evened out and the tears seemed to slow. He’d let go at the first sign of discomfort, of course, but holding Virgil in his arms felt… right somehow. It had been a long time since someone had seemed to need him like this. Pulling Virgil close, his silent oath to protect the young prince made the Captain’s chest feel impossibly light. Like he really could do anything to keep this young man safe.

Roman didn’t want to let go. He never wanted to let go. With Virgil here in his arms, he knew for sure that the young prince was safe. Nothing could touch him here, tucked away against Roman’s chest.

When Virgil eventually loosened his hold Roman was disappointed, but he made no move to restrain him, letting Virgil lift his head from the Captain’s chest.

“Why, hello there beautiful.” Roman took his hand back to cup Virgil’s cheek, brushing away some of the lingering tears with his thumb. “Nice to see you again.”

Virgil’s face ran red immediately, but he smiled. “Yeah. Nice to see you too.”

Roman knew his cheeks were painted with a similar flush, though Virgil’s blush did something to Roman’s stomach that he couldn’t quite explain without a lot of pained pining and sappy words.

“I really am sorry for scaring you,” he said instead, moving a piece of hair out of Virgil’s eyes and tucking it behind his ear. “I’m so sorry.”

“It’s not your fault,” Virgil assured, and Roman’s heart nearly soared when he leaned into the touch. “You were doing what you thought was right. I’m… sorry for scaring you, too.”

“It’s alright,” Roman soothed, voice hushed. “We’re okay now.”

“Thank you for doing this for me.”

Roman had felt romantic love before, of course. His poor, bleeding heart fell easily and hard but this… this didn’t feel like all those other quick, passionate bursts of love.

This felt like a powerful burn, deep in his chest. It wasn’t love, he knew. He’d met this man just days ago, and though Roman was impulsive and quick to act, even he didn’t fall in love that quickly.

But there was something deep in his chest that pulled desperately at his hands, begging him to hold the Prince before him. He pulled back slowly, eyes opening to watch Virgil for a moment.

“Can I—” He stopped, then started again before he lost his nerve. “I’m sorry, you can say no, but may I—?”

“Heavens! Are we interrupting something?”

Roman practically vaulted away from Virgil, the Prince scrambling back at the same time. The Captain ended up latched to the wheel, his face bright red, Virgil ending up a few paces away looking more confused and startled than embarrassed.

“Oh, goodness!” Patton gasped from the doorway, and he looked a bit like he would be giggling if he wasn’t doing his best to look guilty. “I’m sorry, boys! I didn’t mean to startle you.”

“Not startled in the least, good morning, Patton!” Roman managed to squawk out, face only growing hotter when he noticed Logan standing at Patton’s shoulder, eyebrow raised.

Oh, God. Fuck. He almost kissed Virgil. He almost kissed Virgil. Oh, God.

“It’s ok, Pat,” Virgil said, and he sounded much more calm than the Captain did. He wondered if Virgil even realized what Roman had been about to ask. “We’re fine.”

Roman wanted nothing more than to go back to Virgil, to hold him close again, but he stubbornly glued his eyes to the sea. A childish part of him wanted to turn and glare at Patton, but he knew better.

“Alright kiddo,” Patton relented. “My bad. I didn’t mean to interrupt, I just wanted to check on you two kids. Isn’t that right, Logan?”

Logan let out a long suffering sigh, visibly uncomfortable with the situation and probably a bit confused, but he nodded and turned his attention to Roman. “I’ve already explained last night’s situation to Patton. I was just helping him look for Virgil.”

“Isn’t he sweet?” Patton winked at Virgil, patting Logan’s arm. “Anyways, how about you boys come with us to the galley? I’m starving.”

“A splendid idea,” Roman said, pushing down how badly he wished to do anything else, namely go back to holding Virgil. “Better get to breakfast before the crew takes more than their share.”

“Actually,” Patton chirped, pausing in the doorway to send Roman a cold, deceptively sweet smile. “I think I need to talk to our Captain for a moment. How about you go with Logan, Virgil? We’ll meet you two down there in a bit.”

Roman froze, turning to Logan with wide, pleading eyes. Dear God, let his impossibly dense first mate get the hint and stay.

“That’s a good idea,” Logan said, turning to Roman with a look that told the Captain he definitely did get the hint, and was choosing to ignore it. Goddamnit. “You’ve had a long morning, Virgil. I’ll escort you down and make you a plate.”

Roman cleared his throat, trying and failing to get Logan’s attention again. “Well, I—”

“Well, thank you Logan!” Patton interrupted, and Virgil made his way over, clearly oblivious to the rising tension. “Roman and I will be down in just a minute, okay Virgil?”

“Yeah,” Virgil muttered, sending roman a timid smile over his shoulder. “See you there.”

Roman was going to kill Logan.

Logan was careful not to crowd Virgil, stepping aside to let him through the doorway before following with one last glance at his Captain. Patton waited until the two were gone before turning back to Roman, all traces of his cheerful smile gone.

Roman cleared his throat again, forcing himself to meet the man’s eyes. “Hello, Patton.”

“Captain.”

“I, uhm…” he trailed off to rub at the back of his neck, frozen under Patton’s stare. The protective ferocity in his glare easily reminded Roman of a mother bear. “I- I do apologize for overstepping. My intentions were never to—”

Patton cut him off with a sharp sigh, and Roman quickly shut his mouth. “I don’t need you to explain, Captain. It’s not like I’m here to ban you from speaking to Virgil ever again.”

“Ah,” Roman said. “You’re not?”

“No, kiddo,” Patton assured, and for a moment he was back to the friendly traveler Roman had met in that tavern. “I wouldn’t do that to him.”

“Oh.”

“He was enjoying it,” Patton continued. “When you were holding him, I could see it in his eyes that he felt safe. But I know him. If he didn’t want to kiss you he’d have a hard time saying no, especially after the night he had.”

Roman’s cheeks burned, heat rising ruthlessly to his face, and he nodded sheepishly. “I know. I know it was- it was stupid of me.”

“It was,” Patton agreed. “You seem like a very nice young man, but I raised that boy, Roman. I’ve seen… I’ve seen a lot of not nice people do a lot of cruel things to him. I couldn’t protect him then, but I can now.”

Roman swallowed, Virgil’s fear and desperation replaying like a loop in his head, guilt rising in his chest. “I understand.”

“I don’t think you do.” Patton’s face hardened, and he took a staggeringly threatening step forward. “If you so much as lay a finger on Virgil without his very clear and enthusiastic consent, not one single person on this ship will ever find your body. Am I understood, Captain?”

Roman blinked, throat suddenly dry, feeling a bit like Patton had just dumped a bucket of ice water over his head. “I… uh. Okay. Yes, sir.”

“Oh, you can just call me Patton, kiddo!” Patton chirped. His smile was back, just as cheerful and genuine as before, and he quickly stepped out of the Captain’s space. “Come on, let’s not keep the others waiting.”

And with that Patton turned and made his way off the bridge to the dining hall without waiting for the Captain. Roman followed, slightly shell shocked, refusing to look at Logan for the rest of the morning.

Taglist:

@i-really-like-dragons @stitches-system @poettheythem @remy-the-lemon-berry @shrubs-and-bushes @i-sexually-identify-as-a-mistake @wordsmithandworm @the-dead-and-the-decaying @hope340 @winterwynd @thomas-sanders-tothe-standers @angstysunshine @sunshineandteddybears @pixelated-pineapple @fire-and-ash67

#pirate au #sanders sides #virgil sanders #ts virgil #roman sanders #ts roman #logan sanders #ts logan #patton sanders #ts patton #prinxiety #logicality #romantic prinxiety #writing #fanfiction #pirates

[yellowsuitcase]

Bliss // Draco Malfoy

Request:  i was thinking it would be really cute if the plot is like it’s draco and y/n 1 year anniversary and they’ve never ya know and so they both decide they’re ready before their anniversary rolls around so on their 1 year he makes the day special and all romantic and the room with rose petals and everything and is super loving and careful and sweet with her since it’s their first time

A/N: This sat in my drafts half-finished for so long and I fINALLY got around to finishing it, thank god. Hope you enjoy!

Summary: It’s Y/N and Draco’s one year anniversary and they have big plans.

Warning(s): SMUT!!! Loss of virginity (male & female), swearing, (pretty) soft sex.

Word Count: 2.9k

{Not my gif}

Y/N’s leg was jumping up and down as she sat in her last lesson. She’d been anxious the entire day. It was early March, the second to be exact. This happened to be her and Draco’s one-year anniversary, and the pair had big plans for that night. A few days ago, Draco had asked Y/N if she was ready. It wasn’t hard to figure out what he was implying. They had agreed early into their relationship that sex wasn’t a must-have for them. But after a year of being absolutely infatuated with one another, they decided their anniversary would be the perfect day. 

Now that the day had come, though, Y/N realized she was terrified. She feared it wouldn’t be good that she wouldn’t be good. However, she also knew she loved Draco and that if he truly loved her too, she had nothing to worry about. Her anxious thoughts were interrupted by the bell. Without hesitating, Y/N dashed from Flitwick’s classroom and started making her way towards the library. Draco had explicitly instructed her not to come to the common room until after dinner, so she had quite some time to kill. What better to do to distract her than burying herself in her schoolwork?

Y/N took a seat at a desk in front of the far-end bookshelves. Snape had assigned yet another essay. With a sigh, she pulled out parchment from her school bag as well as her quill and got to work.

-------

Y/N woke with a start. She found herself lying on top of her essay, a bit of drool had dribbled onto it. Hastily, she wiped her mouth and took in her surroundings. She was still in the library. “Fuck,” she muttered. The sun wasn’t in the sky anymore; the only light in the library was from the sparsely placed candlesticks. Y/N sighed and began packing up her things, ready to take a nice shower before bed. However, as she was stuffing her quill back into her bag, she remembered Draco. A steady stream of cuss words flew from her mouth as she jumped up from her seat and ran out of the library. Fuck, I’m gonna be late. Will Draco be upset with me? Fucking hell, how did I even fall asleep? She asked herself as she dashed down the dungeon steps.

Soon enough, however, she arrived at the door to the Slytherin common room. She uttered the password and practically threw herself through the entryway, causing some Slytherins to look at her. Y/N paid them no mind; she made a beeline for the boys' dormitory, not stopping until she reached Draco’s room. It was only then that she was able to take a deep breath and prepare herself for what was to come. She was feeling so many different emotions all at once; excitement, anxiety, eagerness, fear. Yet, despite all that, she placed her hand on the door handle and turned it open.

She was expecting to see Draco sat at his desk, but what she saw instead brought tears to her eyes. The room was dark, only lit by candles. Soft music was playing from a record player, and upon looking at the floor, Y/N saw scattered rose petals that led all the way to Draco. He was standing across from her dressed in a casual yet charming green sweater, his hands behind his back. “Hi,” he said. Y/N, whose hand was over her mouth, shook her head. 

“Draco, this is...you didn’t have to do this,” she replied as she began walking towards him. He, too, started walking until both of them met halfway. Y/N looked up at him and saw him smiling at her fondly. Then, he drew his hands from behind his back and presented her with a red rose. She gasped and gently took it from his hand. “Draco, I don’t know what to say. I didn’t have time to grab your present, I fell asleep in the library, and I thought I was gonna be late, so I—”

Draco placed a finger over her rambling mouth, silencing her. “You are all I need. And I don’t care that you’re late, you’re here, and that’s what matters,” he whispered, pulling her close to his chest. Y/N released the tension in her shoulders as Draco began stroking her head, his arms wrapped around her, making her warm. She felt so unbelievably lucky to have a boyfriend like the one cuddled against her. Of course, she’d heard about romantic gestures such as this, and she’d definitely seen them in movies, but never ever did she think someone would do it for her. 

Slowly, Y/N felt Draco pull away. She looked at him expectantly and watched as he gulped. He looked nervous. “Are you ready, love?” he asked, his voice barely audible. Y/N could see that he was afraid. She nodded and took his hand into hers. 

“Okay,” he breathed. “I must admit I am a bit...afraid, I guess.” Y/N was shocked that he had just confessed this to her. Typically, it would take hours of poking and prodding to get Draco to admit he was fearful of anything. Yet, he’d just willingly declared it to her. She planted a soft kiss onto his knuckle.

“I am too. But I trust you,” Y/N assured him. He couldn’t fight the toothy smile that appeared on his face.

“I trust you too,” he replied. Y/N held her breath as Draco leaned in close. She closed her eyes and felt herself melt as he pressed his lips against hers. Her arousal had been growing all day, and despite her nerves, she couldn’t help but moan when he slipped his tongue into her mouth. She felt him smile as his hands found her waist. A shiver ran down her spine as his cold hands slid upwards beneath her school shirt. Y/N kissed him eagerly, but Draco retained his slow pace. His hands caressed her body as they searched for her bra. She gasped into his mouth as his nimble fingers found it and shakily unhooked the clasp. He dragged her bra off her shoulders and down her front, pulling away to toss it elsewhere. 

Y/N found herself growing confident; she reached for Draco’s sweater and yanked it upwards, successfully untucking it from his pants. He laughed as she pulled it up and off his body, leaving his chest bare. Giving in to her temptations, she put her hands on his chest, feeling his heated skin. 

Draco pulled her against his body and dove his head forward, connecting his lips with Y/N’s neck where he began sucking. She closed her eyes and started rubbing her thighs together, desperate to hurry things up, but Draco wasn’t having it.

“Slow down, darling. We have all the time in the world,” he told her, his voice sweet and comforting. Y/N groaned as he reached behind her and grabbed her ass, squeezing it playfully. He ignored her pleas for him to touch her and instead began undressing her further. Her shirt went first, and Draco immediately felt her breasts, kneading gently. 

"For a virgin, you are quite eager, aren't you?" he teased, making Y/N blush. 

Y/N loved the feeling of his hands on her, and she found it pretty funny how his eyes gleamed at the sight of her tits. But then his hands traveled downwards, fondling the hem of her skirt. Y/N looked down, waiting for him to pull the fabric off her, except he didn’t. Instead, his finger guided her face upwards. He laughed at her confused expression.

“Are you sure about this?” he asked as he tapped her clothed hip, a smirk on his lips. Y/N nodded, she knew what was coming, and even though she was afraid, she knew Draco was gonna make her feel good. With her permission, her boyfriend slipped his fingers into the waistband of her skirt and her panties. He kissed her gently as he slowly pulled the fabric down her hips, her thighs, and all the way to the floor. Y/N blushed; she was now acutely aware of her nakedness and couldn't help but feel self-conscious.

It seemed as though Draco noticed this since he hastily reached for his belt, undoing the buckle and shoving his pants down, letting his cock spring free. Y/N bit her lip when she saw how hard he was, how hard she made him. Now that he was naked, Draco reached for her hand. He gripped it firmly as he led her towards the bed. Y/N crawled onto it and laid on her back, immediately crossing her legs. Draco tutted as he, too, got on the bed. 

“Don’t hide from me, love. You’re beautiful, and I want to see all of you, please." Y/N could tell his words were genuine, so she slowly spread her legs, exposing her bare pussy to him. “Bloody hell, Y/N. I’m so glad I get to be your first.” Y/N felt the urge to close her legs again, his words sending butterflies to her stomach. But instead, she reached up and pulled his face close to hers. They kissed sweetly, softly. Draco was nearly dizzy from the anxiety running through his veins, but her kiss helped calm his nerves. When she pulled away, he inhaled deeply.

“What?” Y/N asked worriedly. Draco shook his head, dismissing her concern.

“Can I...can I touch you?” he asked, his voice cracking. He had been confident when Y/N first came to his room, but now that they were actually about to do the deed, he felt ten times more afraid. 

Y/N felt her heart speed up, but she gave him a nod and watched as he positioned himself between her legs. What she wasn’t prepared for was the shock of pleasure when his fingers stroked her labia. “Holy shit,” she breathed shakily. Draco glanced up at her in panic, ceasing his movements. However, when Y/N bucked her hips against him, he continued stroking. He kept his steady motion until he felt his finger brush up against something. Hesitantly, he placed his fingertip on top of it and gently circled it. 

“Oh!” Y/N gasped. She closed her eyes and grabbed Draco’s forearm, holding him still. He stopped his finger and, with his other hand, began stroking Y/N’s thigh.

“What’s wrong? Did it hurt?” he asked, feeling panic return. But then Y/N shook her head.

“No, that’s my clit. Do it again, please,” she begged, her muscles tense. Draco did as she asked and began rubbing his finger against and around her clit. He watched in amazement as she bucked her hips and began squirming, soft breaths falling from her lips. Draco switched his finger out for his thumb. While still stimulating Y/N, he slowly slipped his pinkie finger inside her. 

“Oh my god,” she whimpered. 

“You’re so tight,” Draco told her as he began sliding his pinkie in and out, slowly but steadily prepping her. After a few minutes, he gradually added another. A sharp hiss from Y/N, however, stopped him in his tracks. “Are you alright? What’s wrong?” he asked frantically.

“It hurts-”

“We can stop; it’s okay,” Draco quickly cut in. But Y/N shook her head adamantly. 

“No, I want to do this. The pain has already started to fade just...just go slow, okay?” Draco leaned forward and pressed quick kisses all over her face, not stopping until a smile appeared on her lips. 

“I’ll go as slow as you want me to darling, I’ve got you,” he assured her as he started rubbing her again. Y/N nodded and bit her lip as the tingly feeling returned. She couldn’t help but roll her hips, wanting more friction. Draco took this as a hint to add another finger, so he slipped his middle digit inside. He had to take a moment to close his eyes when he saw Y/N’s pussy clench around his fingers. “That feels good, love?” he asked. 

“It’s starting to. Keep going,” Y/N replied. He heeded her words and slowly began expanding his fingers within her, stretching her out. Y/N continued rolling her hips and breathing heavily. In and out, in and out. When Draco deemed her properly prepared, he withdrew his fingers, causing Y/N to whine. He laughed lightly as he reached towards his nightstand and reached into the drawer. Y/N’s eyes watched as he pulled out a condom and ripped the paper, but just as he was about to roll it on, she grabbed his wrist.

“Let me,” she whispered. Draco had to hold back a moan as she slipped the condom from his hands and placed it on the head of his dick. He gripped the bed sheets and watched his girlfriend gently slide her hand down his cock, bringing the condom with it. Draco thought he might lose himself just from that, but he quickly closed his eyes and steadied his breathing. When he opened them again, he found Y/N laying on the bed again, legs spread. He raised an eyebrow, silently asking if she was ready. She replied by making grabby hands towards him. 

Excitedly, Draco grabbed her thighs and pulled her body towards him until her pussy touched his dick. Y/N gasped and, before she could control herself, bucked her hips. “Shit, if you keep doing that, I won’t be able to hold back,” Draco warned. Y/N completely ignored him and proceeded to grind on him, letting her body give in to her urges. Her boyfriend groaned and savored the feeling before pulling away. He then rubbed his fingers against her. “You’re so wet,” he remarked as he used her arousal to lube up his cock. Once he finished, he looked up at Y/N.

“You ready?” he asked, checking in once more just to make sure. 

“Yes, please. I want to feel you,” Y/N whined. That was all Draco needed to hear. He aligned the tip of his cock with her entrance and, while taking a deep breath, pushed himself inside, not stopping until all of it was swallowed by her cunt. 

“Motherfucker, you’re so big, oh my god,” Y/N cursed, her eyebrows scrunched together as she waited for her body to adjust to his size. Draco gripped her thighs, trying to hold himself back from pulling out and slamming back into her. She felt so good around him. He could feel her walls pulsing against his cock; it was beginning to drive him wild. But then Y/N started wriggling and moaning. 

“Move,” she demanded. Draco wasted no time; he pulled his hips back until only his tip was left inside her, then he slowly pushed forwards, groaning as his dick was once again enveloped in her hot pussy. “You feel fucking amazing, Y/N, shit,” he cussed, continuing to fuck into her steadily. Y/N didn’t reply; she felt breathless as he slid in and out of her. And when his hand returned to her clit, she nearly screamed. The room filled with sweet sounds of moans and pants as the couple made love.

“Faster Draco, please,” she begged, reaching for his hand. Draco quickly intertwined his fingers with hers and gripped her tight. He began to pick up his pace, watching as Y/N arched her back and moaned. “I think I’m getting close,” she whimpered. This made Draco go even faster, her words egging him on.

“So tight around me, baby. So fucking good,” Draco babbled, his teeth gritted as he slammed inside her. Y/N lifted her legs and wrapped them around his waist, allowing him to get a deeper angle into her pussy. She let out little yelps each time his cock hit that spot inside her. She knew her orgasm was approaching. With the way Draco was rubbing her clit and pounding her cunt, there was no way she’d last long.

Draco took notice of Y/N’s desperate moans and clenched fists. “Let go, darling. Cum for me, cum on my cock, baby,” he husked, encouraging her. Y/N shut her eyes and squeezed Draco’s hand as her body jolted, and her orgasm washed over her. The pure blissed-out look on her face sent Draco into a frenzy. He clenched her hand tight and sent a few more sloppy hard thrusts into her before he too reached his high, moaning loudly as he did. 

Each of them halted their movements, desperately trying to catch their breaths. Eventually, Draco pulled out and disposed of the condom. Then he flopped down onto the bed beside Y/N, gently pulling her into his arms where he hugged her tight and pressed soft kisses to her nape. 

“I love you so much, that was...fucking insane,” he whispered, smiling when he heard her giggle.

“It was way better than I ever could’ve expected. I love you too, Dray. Thank you.”

Y/N turned around in Draco’s embrace and faced him. She reached up and stroked his face, completely enamored by him. Never had she felt so safe, so blissful. There was nobody else she would’ve wanted to lose her virginity to, and she was so glad he had lost his tonight as well. Sure, it was sweaty, awkward, teenage sex. But it was loving and gentle, and most importantly, it was with the love of her life. Sleep soon started to overtake her, and her thumb stopped rubbing Draco’s cheek. But Draco was drifting away too. The couple entered dreamland peacefully, their still sweaty limbs entangled with one another's.

Taglist: @beiahadid @pastelpuffbar @cutie1365 @dracoxmgg @lumlfy @sambucky8 @emilianamason @raplinethereal @DixieTheMorab24 @xoxohollands @prongsandprancer @ch0kemedracomalfoy @avlauriaa @purpleskymalfoy @mariah-can-dream @drxcomvlfx @sydnee-kom-spacekru​ @dracosgoodgirl​ @voilawind @gloryekaterina @anchoeritic @ragxsxragxs @exoticlizard @dlmmdl @siriusblklftv

#draco malfoy #draco fanfiction #draco malfoy x yn #draco lucius malfoy #draco malfoy x reader #draco malfoy imagines #draco #draco malfoy x you #harry potter fanfiction #draco fluff #draco x you #draco smut #draco malfoy smut #draco x reader #draco malfoy fluff

[myherofanfictionacademy]

Problem

A/N: This is the last story I'm going to be posting from my older stories. I think I might add onto this one in the future though...

Female Detective Reader

Their Pov.:

"Hey Aizawa fancy seeing you here." Hawks said as he spotted Aizawa in front of the agency building. "I just have some business to do here." Aizawa responded. "By hiding in those bushes? Are you spying on someone by any chance?" "Just drop it." "Always with a cold attitude."

Once Aizawa had started to help Dabi, it didn't take long for Hawks to start appearing around him often. He was a double agent, but besides that he had some history with Dabi. Aizawa didn't really get along with Hawks because of how flamboyant his personality was, so he could only tolerate him for so long.

"So how long are you just going to watch me for?" Aizawa asked Hawks, who had not moved away from him in over ten minutes. "Until you tell me what you're up to." Hawks responded. "I'm just looking out for someone. They helped me so I'm just trying to repay the favor." "Whose the person? Oh... Don't tell me it's a girl?" Hawks started to tease Aizawa, but he had already shut him out.

"Did I miss the memo for a meeting or something?" Dabi asked as he approached the two. "Oh hey Dabi." Hawks greeted. "Aizawa here finally got a girlfriend." "Just shut it you." Aizawa glared at him. Hawks had other plans and just continued to poke fun at him. "Come on, just point her out and I'll leave you alone."

The doors to the agency opened up as a few members of the agency headed out for lunch. After a few minutes the three watched as y/n walked out of the building. "Her." Aizawa said. "Are you satisfied now?" "No way!" both Hawks and Dabi exclaimed. "Wait you too?!" Hawks directed towards Dabi. "Looks like we have a problem. And there's no way you two are gonna steal her away from me." Dabi said.

"I Don't Think So." Hawks took off in the direction that y/n had gone. He didn't get very far as he found himself wrapped up in Aizawa's scarf. "Not before me you don't" Dabi and Aizawa began to race each other, with Hawks catching up a little bit later after freeing himself from the scarf. "No way am I going to lose to you two." This was going to end in the most heated competition, and with three passionate men after the heart of y/n, it was going to get very heated.

1st-Person Pov.:

The time was 12:15pm, and I was headed to my favorite café for lunch. "One cup of coffee and a bagel." I ordered. The day had been going great so far, and to top it off my boss gave me the rest of the day off, since I've been working overtime this past week. I also got the weekend off so I needed to find something to do.

"Hey there Kid." Hawks said as he sat down beside me. "How are you doing today." "I'm good." I responded. "Good to see you’re looking better." "Yeah, well.....would you believe me if I told you that I got a visit from a beautiful angel?" I became startled for a second. "You died?!"

Hawks burst out into a fit of laughter. "Actually I was talking about you." I felt my cheeks heat up a little. I wasn't used to receiving comments like this, so I lost my voice. Fortunately I didn't need to worry about replying.

"Hey Little Mouse." Dabi said as he took a seat across from us, Aizawa soon following. "I don't think I've ever seen you three in the same place at once." I commented. "It's not the first time." Aizawa told me. "We actually worked together, that's why I'm in a predicament right now." "Oh. I didn't know that Hawks was there though."

Hawks looked over at me. "I have some history with Dabi from years ago, which is why I became a double agent in the first place." I nodded my head as I followed along with what they were telling me. Hawks and Dabi's pasts connected when they were younger where they were put into a "program" to become "better".

"You seem to be getting along pretty well which is surprising." I told them. "We didn't get along very well before, but now we have a common denominator in our equation." Aizawa told me. "Anyways, the time has really flown by. Don't you need to get back to the agency?" "Nope. I'm off 'til Monday."

"Then how about we do something?" Hawks suggested. "Like what?" I asked. "We could go to the spring festival." Dabi said. We all agreed on it and that we would head there tomorrow morning, then went our separate ways. I was glad to see that the three of them were doing so much better.

I didn't bother packing that night and instead did it in the morning. We would be spending the weekend somewhere on the beach, but Aizawa, Dabi, and Hawks wouldn't tell me much. It was around 10am. when I received a text from Hawks:

Hawks: Good morning Songbird. Send me your address so we can pick you up.

I sent him my address and in no time at all, the three of them were knocking on my apartment door. "Looking good kid." Hawks complimented me. I gave him a quiet thanks then we headed off to the train station. It was only an hour train ride to get to the beach.

"Wow this place is packed." I thought as we waited for the train to arrive. "I'm guessing that it's going to be pretty busy at the beach as well." "Is something wrong little mouse?" Dabi asked me. "Just thinking about how many people are traveling." I responded. "It is spring break, but besides that it makes it easier on me because no one will pay attention to who I am."

The train was a little delayed due to some maintenance issues, but it was nothing major. The seats we were taken to were in business class so they were really nice. It wasn't as cramped as I thought it would be. I even got to sit next to the window with Aizawa next to me, and Hawks and Dabi in front of us.

The train ride was pretty calm, until Hawks pulled out a card game for us to play. He did step away with the other two for a couple minutes before the game started. I assumed that they made some sort of a bet because of how competitive they got over the simple card game. At the end of it, Aizawa won the first round and Dabi won the second one.

"Wow there really are a lot of people here." I said as we exited the train station. The beach was right in front of us. The crystal clear water sparkled under the light from the sun. The waves weren't very high, and all along the beach there were a ton of people.

"It might be hard to find a spot to relax on the beach." I sighed. "Don't worry Kitty." Aizawa said. "We already came up with a solution for that." "Don't tell her too much." Hawks said appearing behind me. "It will ruin the surprise. Now let's get a move on it." Hawks immediately picked me up and flew into the sky.

Aizawa and Dabi shouted as they ran after us. "Hawks....we should go back for them." I said after I could no longer see Dabi or Aizawa. "Come on Kid. I just wanted to spend some time alone with you." Hawks said. "Besides I was the one who put in the most work for planning this special trip. I'm also the one with the key." "Fine...But we have to stop and pick something up to surprise them."

Hawks landed near a café that was selling cakes. "This should work." He said. I looked at all the cakes before deciding on one that had chocolate and (insert your favorite flavor) pocky sticks. "How about this one?" I asked Hawks. "Looks good. Now hurry up before the other two beat us to our destination."

In just a few minutes we had arrived in front of a pretty big house that was right on the beach. "Wow, it's so beautiful." I told Hawks. "Did you rent this?" "Actually, it's a place that I own." He responded. "I have a few places for when I travel for work." He unlocked the door and gestured for me to enter ahead of him.

The place had a very cozy setup. I wanted to look around a bit, but I wanted to set the cake out in the kitchen first. I put out some cups by the cake and Hawks got out some drinks.

"What do you think your doing leaving us behind like that?" Dabi said as he and Aizawa entered the kitchen. They both had a dark aura around them, so I came up with something to save Hawks from becoming fried chicken. "Sorry, but I asked him to because I wanted to surprise you both." I said.

Fortunately, the mood seemed to have calmed down after that. "Don't forget that I won earlier." I overheard Aizawa say in the kitchen as I sat in the living room. "Yeah...yeah. Just stop rubbing it in." Hawks responded. "Still, I don't think I'm going to be able to hold back soon." "Me too. We should just all come out and tell y/n." Dabi said.

Their vagueness of things was really starting to get on my nerves. I decided to just go ahead and confront them. "What's up with you three?" I started. " You keep being so vague. You keep calling me by these pet names. You keep being so competitive w....."

"Okay I'm going to stop you right there before you run out of breath songbird." Hawks said. "It's not something that's easy to tell you." "You see Little Mouse, You have gained all of our attention." Dabi continued. "You've caused quite the problem between the four of us." Aizawa added. "Songbird...." "Little Mouse...." "Kitty...." "We adore you."

I was frozen for a few seconds because I could not believe that the three men in front of me just declared their fondness towards me. "But I..." I started. "Why?" "Why not?" Aizawa asked in return. "You're beautiful, kind, independent, and strong." "What kind of a man wouldn't be attracted to that kind of a woman." Hawks said.

My face was bright red, and I felt like hiding myself away from them in embarrassment. "All three of you though?" I asked. "Yep." Dabi said. "If you tried to get rid of even one of us, we might have to just tie you up." In my head I was completely freaking out, but I tried to remain calm on the outside, although I'm sure that it didn't work because of how the three looked at me.

#aizawa x reader #hawks x reader #dabi x reader #mha fanfiction #bnha x female reader

[buryyourfavouritestrope]

An Exorcist Dance - Yukio Okumura

Author Note: So this is a break from the Arima, Nobuchika, William and Claude. am I right? I remember first watching Blue Exorcist with my Twin and my god did I fall for that show. It was probably one of my first Anime's. I just read the Manga and Yukio will always be my favourite. Followed by Mephisto and Shiro Fujimoto.

“You’re coming too Yuki?” Shiemi extolled as they made their way through the cram school corridors. Truth be told the younger Okumura had no idea what she was questioning him about and if he hadn’t had a bad feeling in his stomach, he would have said yes there and then. He exhaled as he paused the thoughts that had been distracting him.

“I’m sorry, I wasn’t paying attention” Yukio confessed, he let his hand fall on the back of his neck as he smiled at his student. Anyone else would’ve been fine with it but he saw the disheartened expression that crossed over her features, and if he saw it so had his brother. He felt the impact before he registered it. The harsh thump had ricocheted pain through his arm.

“The exorcist dance, you know sort of like a prom or a ball. Like in one of those nerdy manga books you read” Rin jabbed. Yukio had no intention of attending a dance; he had never attended one voluntarily before, usually he would be working or studying.

“I’m sorry, I’m working on the day of the dance,” He apologised; he felt Shiemi sadden before she turned her attention to Rin.

“You’re coming though Rin; we could go together?” Shiemi raved. She hadn’t noticed the meaning of her words, or the way Rin’s body stiffened, and his blood pooled in his cheeks. Without speaking he nodded. Yukio stifled the laugh that threatened to cause ruckus through the air.

“No fair, I was going to ask you that” Yukio caught the mumbled whine that left Rin as they entered the classroom. He watched as his brother slunk his way into his seat, his pride damaged. The youngest Okumura glanced over the rest of the class; the girls sat off to one side whilst the boys nursed their wounds. It was clear Shima had once again asked Izuku to a dance, and perhaps Bon had asked [Y/N]. No Yukio refused to let that image enter his mind, but he didn’t stop the sense of joy that pricked at his mouth when he took in Bon’s rejected features.

“Well class, today I’ll be giving you back your recent Pharmaceuticals quiz- “Yukio began, his words fell short at the sudden crash. His head shooting towards the source. He watched as Mephisto’s form entered the classroom. This had become more than a common occurrence. For a second, he contemplated that the demon was keeping a particularly close eye on his lessons.

“I’m sure you’re all excited for the coming dance and I just wanted to stop by and inform you that everyone should be in attendance, no excuses.” Mephisto practically sung as he addressed the students. “Even you [Y/n], I’m glad to see your injuries from the recent exorcism have healed nicely.”

Recent injuries. Yukio’s head shot towards her. Worry swarmed the teen as he registered the bandage just peeking out the cuffs of her sleeve. He’d sat in a room with her for hours on end each day and not once had he noticed her wince in pain, nor had he heard about her going out on any exorcisms. She wasn’t cleared for any-

“Mr Okumura,” Mephisto’s voice snapped him clear of his thoughts. “Miss Moriyama informed me you’re working the day of the ball. Everyone is to attend, given how hard you’ve all worked recently, I think you deserve the break as well. Wouldn’t you agree?”

“Uh, yes.” Yukio agreed. He’d let Mephisto win this time.

“I’ll be off then. I declare the cram school cancelled for today, we’ve got a dance to prepare for” Mephisto grinned.

“Don’t forget to grab your tests on your way out” Yukio barked as they all but ran from their seats. He observed them as they went, his eyes moving to the next as they picked through the pile of papers. Until the last left was hers, he watched as she cautiously stood, a brief wince falling across her face. She wasn’t in pain, she just…well he could see her eyes looking everywhere but him. “You got hurt on an exorcism” he croaked.

“If I’d told you Mephisto asked me to go on an exorcism you would’ve asked to join, plus I had Shura supervising me. It’s just the exorcism was in my hometown.” She smiled. She made her way to the front, her hand reaching for the paper. “Anyway Mr Okumura, I don’t think it matters what I do in my free time, considering how our last conversation went.”

This time Yukio winced. He felt the sharp blade of guilt turn in his gut. He called her impulsive and reckless when she stood against Amaimon. If Rin hadn’t caught the Demon’s attention your injuries could have been catastrophic. He felt his harsh shouts echo through the room as though the walls had remembered them.

“I-“He paused, his mouth closing as he looked down.

“If it helps, the anger from that argument helped me kick serious backside on the field. Especially when I was trapped between a rock and a demon. I won’t bore you with the details, I’m sure you’ll find the reports somewhere. Thanks for the test Mr Okumura, I guess I’ll see you at the dance tomorrow.”

Yukio hadn’t slept that night; he hadn’t even been conscious through his training that day as he kept pinging back to her words. He should’ve just told her why he’d been so angry after that incident. Not only had his brother lost control and been taken away in cuffs but his students had been injured. He’d been helpless in that moment caught between the threat and protecting them. He held seniority in that situation with Shura indisposed. Yet he let her antagonise Amaimon, whilst he patched the others up. She’d been hurt because he couldn’t get to his guns quick enough, she’d been both hurt and saved by his brother in the space of a minute.

Yukio stood with his back against a wall as the dance began. He hadn’t registered people trying to gain his attention as he swam in his own thoughts. He hadn’t noticed Rin and Shiemi laughing as they approached him in an attempt to get him to loosen up. To remember that right now he was still a teenager and that even the other Exorcists were letting themselves enjoy the night.

“It takes some level of antisocial to be stood in the dark at a dance.” Her voice had been the only one to ripple against his thoughts. His eyes blinked a few times before he straightened up. He smiled feebly at her. How long had she been stood there? How long had it been since he’d arrived, by the looks of the exhausted crowd it had been a while? The dancefloor had been all but abandoned with only a few remaining people dancing with one another. “Here I got you a drink but then from the looks of the teachers I think Mephisto may have spiked it. I’d give it a pass.”

“That clown” Yukio grumbled. “I’ve been thinking and about the other day. After the whole Amaimon fight. It was wrong of me-“ She stopped him. A hand on his shoulder squeezing firmly.

“Mr Okumura- Yukio its fine. I was angry too; they carted your brother off and Mephisto wouldn’t say anything. I asked him to give you a break and before you get angry, it was my choice. I went on the exorcism in your place. These injuries are my fault. But I’m fine. So fine that I wanted to ask you something. Yukio Okumura, can I have this dance?” She interrupted him. He felt the anger bubble for a while as he let the information sink in. He sighed, his head dropping for a second before he nodded.

“I mean considering all of our classmates have passed out, sure. But really it should be me asking you. At least that’s what I’ve wanted to ask you for a while.” Yukio uttered. He held his hand out to her, his eyes peering at her over his glasses as he smiled. She placed her own hand in his as they stood to the side, there was no need to walk into the spotlight at least he hadn’t felt the need to do that. Instead, he pulled her close to him as the music lulled into a slow melody.

Her head fell against his shoulder as he held her tight, their bodies swaying together. He pulled himself closer to her, his head resting atop hers as his thoughts that had clouded his mind for days evaporated. Right this instance, all he could focus on was her.

“I’m sorry” He whispered; his lips ghosted over the top of her head as he listened to the music. “I wanted to do nothing more than run after you after our conversation, I wanted to apologise and tell you that I was mad because I’d failed as both a teacher and a friend. You were hurt on my watch and I let you put yourself in the line of danger. I was mad because you mean more to me than anything.”

“I waited” Her words fell in line with the rhythm as she lifted her head to look him in the eye. “I waited for a while outside the door. If it helps, I wanted to go back in the room, and both hit you and kiss you. If you failed as a teacher, then I failed as a student.” She smiled. He mirrored her smile. Both becoming aware of just how little space there was between their faces, and just as they felt the breath of the other heavy on their lips; a shriek tore them apart.

“Mr Okumura, seriously. You rejected me for him” Bon’s voice boomed from across the hall. The commotion had caught the attention of most of the other students, bar Shima who had fallen unceremoniously asleep across a few chairs.

#yukio okumura x reader #yukio okumura imagine #blue exorcist imagine #ao no exorcist x reader #Potentially had a bias at the start because I'm too am a younger twin #precious boy needs a hug and also to talk to his brother and or therapist