#(the smth happens that prompted this one was that i was thinking about when i got my industrals again

[wall-eye]

Sometimes I'm like 'idk if I should call myself autistic, I might just have anxiety' but then something happens and I go oh yeah no that's probably it

[moonstruckme]

Hi!! Could you please write something for Spencer where r is used to men being like really loud and rough and all that (maybe bc of her father or smth) and just her getting used to how gentle Spencer is and almost thinking it’s too good to be true?

Thank you for requesting angel <3

Spencer Reid x fem!reader ♡ 905 words

It happens when you’re still half asleep. You fumble for your phone on Spencer’s nightstand, your alarm chiming, and knock a picture frame off instead. You’re fully awake by the time you hear the sound of glass shattering against the floor. 

You mumble a curse. Spencer hums questioningly into his pillow. 

You get down from the bed, managing to step over the glass, but you’re not thinking clearly enough. When you sink onto your knees, little shards prick the skin. You pick the frame up carefully. It’s a picture of Spencer and his mom. An old one, of her chasing a three or four-year-old Spencer around someone’s yard. They’re both laughing, her arms outstretched towards him and his face turning to look over his shoulder. It’s obviously a sentimental photo. 

Your cursing intensifies, though you keep it internal now. You feel awful. 

Spencer’s head appears over the edge of the bed as you’re scraping the glass into a pile. His eyes are half-open, expression still weighted with drowsiness. 

“What happened?” he asks. 

There’s no accusation in his tone, but you feel suddenly teary. You haven’t fought with Spencer yet, and you weren’t expecting to be yelled at first thing this morning. You suppose you’ve earned it, though. 

“Spence, I’m so sorry.” 

“What are you doing?” 

“I—I knocked over your picture. The frame broke. I feel awful, I’ll get you a new one o—or I can replace the glass if the frame is important to you.” 

“What?” Spencer blinks, brows furrowed as though he’s having trouble grasping this. “No, it’s—stop. Don’t do that.” 

You still, looking up at him hesitantly with your hands cupped around the glass pile. “What do you want me to do?” 

“You can’t clean glass up with your hands.” He shuffles his way out from under the covers, taking a big step over the class to stand behind you. His hands wrap around your elbows. “Get away from there.” 

His tone conveys some upset, but not nearly as much as you were prepared for. And his grip on your arms is gentle. You can’t make sense of it. 

You let him guide you into the bathroom, sitting up on the counter when he prompts you. Spencer takes your hands in his, looking them over and brushing his fingers lightly across your palms before determining there’s no glass in them. His eyes skim you over. When they land on your knees, his expression pinches. 

“Why did you do this?” You expect him to grasp your knee roughly, but his fingers wrap around it with care, thumb rubbing over the soft underside as though to soothe you. 

“I wasn’t thinking,” you say softly. “I feel so bad about the picture with your mom, I’m so sorry.” 

“It’s okay.” Spencer sounds surprised. His eyes flit up to yours, soft brown, curious. “I can get a new frame. You didn’t need to hurt yourself.” 

“Well, I didn’t do it on purpose.” Your voice drops to a murmur as Spencer bends down, opening a drawer to take out first aid supplies. 

He pulls each tiny piece of glass from your knees with heart-aching care. One hand stays on the back of whichever knee he’s working on, to steady him and to comfort you, and it’s a slow, attentive, tender process. Gradually, a realization seeps into you. 

Spencer isn’t going to blow up at you. Maybe someday, but not about this, not over just anything. You’re not sure how you could have been so expectant of someone who’s been nothing but kind and gentle with you turning harsh and forceful at the first upset. 

You don’t even wince as Spencer cleans up your knees. He’s careful to give you no reason to, every touch considerate and sweet. He straightens after smoothing bandages over the cuts, still holding your lower thighs in his hands. 

“That wasn’t a very nice way to wake up,” he says. “Are you okay?” 

“Yeah,” you say, but you hold your arms out for a hug anyway. 

Spencer’s happy to oblige you, his hips fitting between your legs and palms sliding across your back. He smells like sleep. You hook your chin over his shoulder, contentment filling your belly like warm honey. 

“You seemed upset,” he murmurs, a question if you choose to answer it. 

“I was nervous,” you admit. “I thought you’d be mad.” 

“For knocking the frame over?”

“Mhm. I still feel really bad.” 

Spencer draws a line between your shoulders. “Don’t feel bad. You didn’t do it on purpose.” 

You hum. “You’re a lot less loud than most guys, do you know that?” 

He pauses. “Is that a bad thing?”

“No.” You pull away from him, cradling his face in your hand. “I’m just not used to it, is all. I keep expecting you to yell at me, but that doesn’t seem like it’s really your thing.” 

“I guess I don’t think of it as my thing,” Spencer agrees, mouth curving as he repeats your words. “My mom says I was always a quiet kid. I guess I just never thought yelling would get me anywhere.” 

“Don’t start.” You grin, and his cheek dimples under your palm. “I like you like this.” 

“Okay, I’ll try not to.” He tilts his face into your touch. His hands drop back to your knees, skimming down the unharmed sides next to the bandages. “And you shouldn’t get angry at yourself on my behalf anymore, either.”

[sandwhitches]

hii! can i have a cherry popsicle abt suna confessing to the reader but he’s super nervous?? thanks so much! feel free to request smth from me if you’d like to do a little exchange:)

a/n: u must be a mind reader because i’ve LITERALLY been working on this exact prompt omg!!! it’s longer than a drabble (lowkey really long so i just formatted it like a fic☠️) because i already had most of it written when u requested so enjoy :3!! also u BET im gonna send u a request yay!!!

𝐅𝐋𝐎𝐖𝐄𝐑𝐒 (𝐟𝐭. 𝐒𝐮𝐧𝐚 𝐑𝐢𝐧𝐭𝐚𝐫𝐨)

desc: suna is an idiot and seeks the help of an unlikely (and annoying, in his humble opinion) ally to help him confess to you

content: fem. reader, language, suna’s little sister guest star!!!!! (i love that he canonically has a little sister; she’s like middle school age in this ughhhh suna as a big brother makes me want to combust), suna pining for you like a big stupid idiot

wc: 1.5k

this is a part of my summer writing event!!! please feel free to send some requests my way :3

Suna Rintaro knows two things for certain: firstly, he’s absolutely in love with you, and secondly, he hasn’t a clue what to do about it. It was easier for him to come to terms with the latter, seeing as he’d spent most of his teenage years rolling his eyes at mushy displays of affection and taking the piss out of his friends who seemed to have traded all necessary brain function in exchange for falling in love. 

To him, falling in love this early on in life was as worthless and cheap as the chocolate he watched be gifted every Valentines Day; eventually, they’ll eat what they like and throw what they don’t in the trash, he’s seen it done countless times before, and he’d be stupid to let something like that happen to him. 

Still, here he is, knee-deep and sinking even deeper as the moments go by, he thinks falling in love might be like being pushed into quicksand. As odd as it is for him to admit it to himself, he doesn’t mind it at all.

There’s a certain giddiness that can’t be awarded any time other than when you talk to him. He spends the rest of the afternoon and evening thinking about your conversations, wondering if he said something wrong, thinking of all the ways he could have prolonged the exchange, and smiling fondly when he remembers he managed to make you laugh three times (a new record for him).

“What’s with that face?” Atsumu had interrupted Suna during one of the breaks at volleyball practice, his idiotic grin on full display in Rintaro’s face. Had he really been smiling just from thinking about you?

Suna had mumbled something that sounded like an awkward mixture of shut up and fuck off, quick to storm away in hopes that Atsumu didn’t catch the violent reddening of his cheeks. This is not good, he thinks, love can’t really be this hard to ignore, can it?

He’s put up a hard battle against this exact scenario, and he’s afraid you might have unknowingly thrown a wrench right into his fine tuned machine of a brain. If this really was a battle, he’s fine raising a white flag in order to get to make you laugh more often, for the slight possibility of getting to know if your lips really feel as soft as they appear, and the hope that one day he might forget all about what it was like not to be entirely in love with you. 

This is the nail in the coffin, his final surrender. Being in love really must make people stupid, because he’s nervously tugging his collar as he knocks on his younger sister's door. She chirps a surprised “Come in!” and Rintaro struggles to actually reach for the door, consumed with the reality of the fact that this really is where he’s ended up in his life. Great.

His sister gives him an incredulous look when she realizes it had been him who knocked, eyeing him suspiciously, “What do you want?” She mumbles in confusion, setting her pencil down. Suna parts his lips, mouth running dry, then sighs loudly, shaking his head. 

“What is it?” She inquires, sudden agitation laced in her tone. Rintaro looks at the ground, too embarrassed to see the inevitable shift in her expression when he asks, “What’s the right way to ask out a girl?” 

A silence follows that isn’t long enough in Suna’s opinion, quickly cut off by a loud bark of laughter, “No way! You’re asking me for advice?” 

Here’s another thing Suna Rintaro knew for certain, there’s no word that describes the extent in which his younger sister is the bane of his existence. 

“Yeah, yeah, whatever.” Suna mutters self-consciously. This probably was a bad idea in theory, but as much as it pains him to admit it, this is his last resort. He knows next to nothing about how to be normal about talking to you, let alone confess; something is better than nothing in this situation, and he swears to himself that he will make sure he never has to ask his sister for advice like this again. 

Love, when it comes to you, has to be a one and done thing. He’s sincerely praying to whoever is watching over him that he never has to feel the terror of confessing to anyone else again. It just has to be you. 

That’s why he’s here, standing about as stiff as a marble statue as he pushes a shaky finger to your doorbell, drawing his hand back swiftly as if it burned him. In a spurt of unexplainable confidence, Suna had asked if you wanted to hang out on Saturday, conveniently leaving out the part where he desperately wished for it to be more than just a hang out.

Earlier that morning, he’d been so close to chickening out that his sister, of all people, angrily dragged him to the nearest grocery store with a scowl.

 “Don’t get her roses, it’s way too soon for that kind of flower!” She snapped, swatting Suna’s hand away from the bouquet.

“Daisies? Seriously? Are you a serious?”

It would be an utter lie if Suna did not admit that he had no idea what his sister was talking about. If love really is this complex, maybe he’s not the right person for it. Still, he finds himself lingering on the face you make when you laugh, the way you’re the first person that he never got sick of texting into the early hours of the morning, and how you’re the only person that could ever make him reconsider that puppy love and crushes might mean something more than he’d given them credit for.

After all, the way he felt for you is what people call love, isn’t it?

Suna grips the assorted bouquet of colorful flowers that his sister had deemed good enough, listening to the sound of your front door clicking open. He’s doomed, this is a bad idea, and yet it’s the only thing he wants to do. 

How’d you get to be so beautiful? Suna wonders that a lot, in fact, it makes him angry that you’d just waltzed into his life like you did. It’s absolutely unfair, he was a dead man before he could even put up a fight. Falling in love with you was unavoidable from the beginning, but he seems to be just okay with that. 

“Oh!” Your eyes go wide, nonplussed by the bouquet in his hands, “Flowers for me?” You snicker, your laughter is probably the worst thing that could possibly happen right now, it makes everything ten times harder to do.

“Yeah, um-” Rintaro sputters, nervously darting his eyes around for the answer to your question. He knew the answer. You knew the answer.

Hastily, he holds it out for you to take, which you do without hesitation, “What’s the occasion?” 

Suna Rintaro knows two more things for certain: firstly, he’ll die if he doesn’t tell you how he feels, and secondly, you’re smart enough to have already surmised exactly what the occasion is. 

Everything his sister told him, advisories of “That’s too creepy!” and “Don’t be so blunt about it!” all fly to the back of his mind in exchange for the only things he can really manage to say. 

“Well,��� Suna starts, cringing at the way his voice cracks, he knows this is about to be the world’s worst confession. 

“I, um, I got these for you because I think you’re really pretty,” you watch in bewilderment as his cheeks gradually saturate into a bright red, “but, that’s not just it!” Suna blurts, “You’re also really smart, and funny, and you’re probably the only person I could sit and talk to for hours without getting annoyed by-” Now, Suna is blatantly breaking the third piece of advice his sister had given him, don’t ramble.

“And, I really look forward to talking to you, even if it’s about boring stuff, I still want to hear you talk all day. Which, saying that out loud is really embarrassing for me, but, not because I’m embarrassed of you, I’m just embarrassed that I’m so-”

“Suna-” you interrupt, the cellophane wrap of the bouquet you held crackles as you lower it to see him better. You watch, partially in amusement, while the boy across from you struggles to comprehend everything he just said. 

Suna is done for when it comes to you, this was priorly understood, so why is it so hard to put it into words if it’s all he ever thinks about? “I like you a lot…is that okay?” He finally sighs, pale green eyes flickering up to search for a silent answer in the faltering of your expression. 

“That’s okay.” You nod, dumbfounded by the sudden declaration, each word was spoken with more confidence than anything you’ve ever heard him say before.

“Cool.” Suna nods dumbly.

“Cool.”

[daysofyellowroses]

fries

carmen berzatto x reader | 1.1k

prompt was: Carmy getting all sassy and dom like bc his girl spent money on herself instead of using his card/calling him and telling him that you wanted something and to pick it up off hold on his way home!! That is such a HC for me I feel Carmy would be super pouty if his girl bought something expensive or ‘necessary for him’ like your makeup, hair stuff, clothes, shoes, etc. ESP food he like gets so upset when she will pick herself up McDonald’s or smth and is like “baby why didn’t you tell me you were craving a burger and fries” - as requested by @thecapricunt1616 thank you so much, i hope you enjoy 🌼

🐻

Sometimes you think you know everything about your boyfriend. If someone quizzed you, you would ace it. It's only been just under a year since you started dating Carmy but in that time you had learned everything about him, or so you thought.

There were things that you didn't know every detail about, like his family, particularly his mom, but you knew that he would talk about those things in time, when he was ready.

What you didn't expect was that he would have a certain..kink, one you wouldn't have expected him to have but was a very pleasant surprise. 

It had happened incrementally, you first noticed when you came home after work one day with a pair of new sneakers. When you showed them to Carm he seemed a little..off. It wasn't exactly something to celebrate but you found it a little odd that he didn't seem to care when usually he was so attentive and loving.

You put it down to a long day at work and forgot about it. 

Until it happened again, when you came home after a splurge on makeup and skincare products. He found you putting them away in the bathroom and just walked away, leaving you deeply confused. 

When you asked him if everything was okay he said it was, and you decided not to push it. You noticed that he was a little more attentive than usual, keeping you in his lap while you relaxed on the couch, insisted on getting you whatever you wanted, carried you to bed when you started falling asleep. It wasn't that he never did those things usually, you just felt like he was doing more somehow.

Deciding to test out the beginnings of a theory, you waited a week or so before deciding to really treat yourself, splashing out on a pair of expensive heels that you had wanted for so long. As you were the first one home, you put the shoes away and waited for Carmy to get home.

He was his usual sweet self, and you were a little excited to test out your theory. You waited until Carm was making dinner, and you were sitting on the counter watching him.

“Oh my god, I have to show you something,” You smiled, getting down from the counter. “I'll be right back.”

You went to your bedroom, opening the closet and reaching into the back to take out the bag with your new shoes before carrying it to the kitchen behind your back. 

“Look what I got,” You grinned, holding out the bag. “I may have gone a little overboard but I really wanted these.”

You set the bag down on the ground and took the box out, feeling Carmy's eyes on you. 

“How beautiful are these?” You opened the box and took out one of the shoes. “They were almost three hundred but I figure I'll keep them forever so..”

“Three hundred?” Carm raised a brow, his hand on his hip. “You spent three hundred?”

“Yes, I did,” You smiled, feeling like your theory was about to be proved. You looked at the shoe in your hand, turning it slowly. “But work is going well and I really wanted them so..”

“You shouldn't have bought them,” Carm sighed, reaching for the dish towel that was draped over his shoulder and wiping his hands. “That's too much.”

“I'll buy what I want,” You frowned, putting the shoe back in the box. “It's my money I'm spending, not yours.”

“But it should be.” Carmy muttered, meeting your eyes.

“What do you mean?” You asked, stepping closer to him and setting the box in your hands down on the counter. “I don't expect you to drop that kind of money on me.”

“I want to,” Carmy insisted, his arm moving around your waist. “I know that you can afford all those things you want, but..I want to treat you, I want you to tell me what you want and let me get if for you, or take my card and go get it.”

“Please don't feel like you have to do that,” You smiled, touching Carmy's cheek. “I don't care if you buy me things or I buy them myself, just being with you is all I want.”

Carm was quiet for a moment, gently stroking your waist before leaning in to kiss you, your arms moving around his neck.

“It's more than that,” Carm murmured softly against your lips, pulling back to meet your eyes. “I know you don't expect me to, and I know I don't have to but..the thought of seeing you in clothes that I bought you, knowing you're out treating yourself to things and using my money to do it..I want that.”

You take in his words, your hands lightly touching the back of Carm's neck. “Does it..does the thought of that do it for you?”

“Big time,” Carm nodded, and you felt your heart race. “I keep thinking about you coming home, showing off all the things you bought on my card, giving me a little show..”

“I think I know what I should buy first then.” You grinned, leaning in to kiss Carm. 

Dinner is delayed, and you don't quite make it to the bedroom, but you feel like you've never been happier. 

As it turned out, Carm wasn't lying about wanting you to spend his money. You didn't go crazy, you weren't going to buy something just for the sake of it. But when you came home with a bag full of new lingerie and handed his card back to him, Carm had you screaming like you never had before. 

So, once a week or so you treat yourself to a little something, just to bring out a more possessive, dominant side of your boyfriend, loving how he can go from adorable and soft to calling you a spoiled brat and having you begging for more.

And apparently, his fondness for you spending his money wasn't limited to clothes, shoes and underwear, but there was one exception. 

You had come home from work with a McDonald's, knowing Carmy would be home late and that you weren't in the mood to cook. You were just sitting down to eat it, scrolling through your phone when the front door opened.

“Hey,” You smiled, picking Carmy's card up from the table and taking a sip of your milkshake as you handed it to him.

“What's this?” Carm frowned, pointing to the food on the table.

“This?” You grinned, pointing to the McDonald's bag. “Just a little restaurant, you've probably never heard of it, it's only got like a billion locations.”

“Very funny,” Carm sighed, pushing his hand through his hair.

“Are you..pouting?” You grinned. “Over a burger?”

“I could have made you a better burger,” Camy shrugged. “That's all.”

“I know,” You nodded, swishing your shake with a grin. “But only your money can get this.”

“You think I can't make you a milkshake?” Carmy raised a brow.

“Not like this,” You teased. “You don't know the secret ingredients.”

“I'm making you a damn shake. And a burger."

[solarmorrigan]

Hello! So I saw you were doing “angsty-ish prompts” and was wondering if you could do “you don’t have to stay” with Steve angst and the typical complex from his parents making him think he doesn’t deserve to be cared for. Or smth of the sort lol

If not that’s totally fine! Feel free to ignore

You want me to write about Steve's abandonment issues and insecurity?? Gosh, anon, twist my arm, why don't you. (But seriously, I loved writing this, thank you for the prompt! I'm afraid the "parents" part didn't quite make it in, but I hope this is okay, anyway!)

[Warning for vague mentions of sex? Nothing explicit]

-

This is the part Steve has been dreading.

He lies on his belly, arms folded beneath his head, and listens as Eddie’s breath evens out beside him. He knows that as soon as the effects of the exertion wear off, Eddie will have no reason to stay, and he’ll pick his clothes up off the floor, get dressed, and go.

Steve had known that’s what would follow if he slept with Eddie. He’d known that if he finally acted on the weeks upon weeks of flirting and dancing around each other, the only possible outcome would be Eddie walking away when they’d finished.

He’d known it would happen, and it was worth it, but that doesn’t mean he wants to watch.

Steve keeps his head firmly turned away as he hears Eddie sit up with a rustle of sheets. He tries to keep his body relaxed, his cheek pillowed on his arms – the picture of lazy disinterest. He doesn’t want to make Eddie feel guilty by appearing upset; Steve’s feelings aren’t his problem.

Instead of listening for the sounds of Eddie getting up and hunting for his clothes, Steve tries to focus on the signs that he’d been there. He concentrates on the residual burn in his thighs and the slightly over-stretched feeling in his hips, where Eddie had made space for himself (where Steve had gladly opened up for him); he concentrates on the ache in his wrists, where Eddie had gripped him tightly, somehow making Steve feel safe and held, rather than trapped; he concentrates on the slight sting of the bruising bitemarks Eddie’s left on his neck and chest (and belly and thighs and elsewhere, probably). He focuses on all the ways Eddie had worshipped and pleasured him before their time together was up.

He's focusing so hard, in fact, that he jumps at the feeling of lips pressing to his lower back.

Eddie lets out a low chuckle and kisses him again, just above his tailbone. “Alright?” he asks, the warmth of his breath raising goosebumps across Steve’s skin.

“Fine,” Steve says, twisting to look over his shoulder; Eddie has situated himself near Steve’s hip and is leaning over him, pressing slow kisses up the length of his spine. Steve suppresses a shiver. “Just… wasn’t expecting you.”

Eddie hums, fitting his fingers in the dip of Steve’s waist as his lips reach Steve’s shoulder. “Not ready to take my hands off you just yet,” he says, and – oh.

Steve hadn’t been expecting this, but he’s definitely willing to work with it.

“Looking for round two already?” he asks, letting a flirtatious lilt warm his voice.

But then Eddie shakes his head, and Steve’s confused all over again.

“Just want to be able to feel you,” Eddie says, before he nuzzles his way into the crook of Steve’s neck and heaves a contented sigh.

He runs his hands up from Steve’s waist, over his ribs, up to his armpits, and then slides them back down again, the drag of his touch just heavy enough to keep from tickling.

Finally, Eddie settles, lying half on top of Steve, chest to back, one leg crooked over the backs of his thighs, his arm cradling his ribs with his hand tucked between his chest and the mattress. His bangs tickle Steve’s cheek and his nose is pressed so firmly to his neck that Steve’s not even sure how he’s breathing, but he seems happy there, and Steve doesn’t know what to do.

People don’t do this – not with him. Usually, he’s the one who has to initiate cuddles, has to find a sort of sideways method of accomplishing it because he knows he’s not supposed to ask. It’s not something he’s allowed to want out loud.

This is the most skin-to-skin contact he’s had in ages. It’s the most he’s been touched in ages, and it’s so much; it feels so good it hurts, but–

Steve doesn’t understand why it’s happening. Eddie doesn’t want to have sex again, and Steve isn’t sure what else could be keeping here, and so, like an idiot, Steve just says what he’s thinking.

“You don’t have to stay.”

“Mm?” Eddie rouses, pulling his face from the crook of Steve’s neck. “What?”

“You can go,” Steve says, before realizing that sounds a little too much like a dismissal. “If you want to, I mean.”

For a long moment, Eddie is quiet.

“What do you want?” he finally asks.

Steve can’t help the bitter huff of a laugh that escapes him. “What I want doesn’t matter,” he says; maybe it’s a childish sort of answer, but it’s been proven true, time and time again, and Steve is tired of asking for things—for affection, for love—only to be denied.

Eddie sits up, and the colds sets in immediately, every part of Steve that he’d been touching now crying out for him to come back.

“Of course it matters,” Eddie says, sounding nearly affronted, before his tone gentles. “Steve… sweetheart, can you look at me?”

Maybe it’s the pet name, or the hand resting softly in the middle of his back, but even though he’s not entirely sure he wants to, Steve rolls onto his side to face Eddie.

There’s something lost and sad in Eddie’s expression that makes Steve want to turn away again, but he stays where he is.

“Did you really think I would just leave after this?” Eddie asks, and Steve shrugs, the muscles of his shoulders screaming after being held folded beneath his head for so long. Eddie’s face twists into a frown. “Why?”

“That’s… how it works,” Steve says. “People don’t want to stay. And they don’t have to – you don’t have to. It’s fine, I understand.”

“No, baby, I don’t think you do,” Eddie says, and while Steve’s brain is still fuzzing to static over the second sweet name in as many minutes, Eddie slides back down to lie in front of Steve and presses a soft kiss to his unresisting mouth. “I want to stay.”

Steve stares at him. Blinks. Finds that Eddie is still there, still offering him a gentle version of his usual infectious grin, and Steve has no idea what to do.

“Why?” he asks.

“Because I want to fall asleep with you,” Eddie says, pressing a kiss to Steve’s cheek. “I want to wake up with you.” A kiss to his other cheek. “I want to fuck you again in the morning.” A kiss to his chin. “Or we can just shower,” a kiss to his forehead, “and I’ll make you breakfast.” A kiss to the tip of his nose, and Steve finally breaks, letting out a short laugh.

“This is my house,” he says. “And you don’t even cook.”

“I’ll have you know I fry a mean egg, and I am a master at making toast,” Eddie says with a grin.

“What if I like my eggs scrambled?” Steve asks, a little more quietly.

Eddie’s smile softens again. “Then I’ll learn,” he says simply. “Do you want any of that, Steve?”

And somehow, in the small, warm space between them, it feels almost safe, almost easy to nod and say, “I want all of that. I want you to stay.”

The only reply he gets is Eddie’s arms wrapping around him, pulling him close, and Eddie’s warm, soft mouth against his; but for Steve, that’s answer enough.

[wikiangela]

here we are together underneath the Christmas tree

written for @bucktommywinterfest prompt: December 22-28: Christmas/Hanukkah and/or firefam holiday party just a silly lil smth, idk what this is lmao

Merry Christmas <3

rating: G words: 1.1k

[also on Ao3]

“Hey, Tommy.” He hears Maddie’s voice, and turns his head to smile at her. He’s leaning against the doorway to the living room, a drink in hand. He’s looking out at the party still going strong in the living room, people mingling, drinks pouring, festive music playing. “What are you doing standing here all alone?” She joins Tommy, leaning against the doorframe opposite him. “Where’s my brother? I was starting to think he’s glued to your hand,” she jokes, and it gets a laugh out of Tommy. “He’s a little busy.” He nods towards the corner of the room, where a joyous laughter erupts at that very moment. There he is, Evan, shining brightly like a beam of sunshine, while he’s entertaining the younger kids. He looks so in his element, playing with them, goofing off, helping them unpack their gifts, and the kids love him. Tommy knows he has the most fond and lovesick expression on his face, and he doesn’t even want to hide it. This is his man, and he loves him so much – and one day, hopefully, they’ll have their own kids who will look at Evan this adoringly. They’ve talked about it briefly, they know where they stand, and as scary as it sometimes seems, Tommy’s so excited for a future with Evan. “And I’m just taking a little break.” Tommy shrugs with one arm, eyes scanning the room, feeling a little wistful tonight, but also awed and grateful that he’s here with all those amazing people. Sometimes it just gets overwhelming. “He’s so good with them.” Maddie comments, a grin on her own face. Tommy hums in agreement, and then her attention is back on him. “You okay?” She asks. He can feel her piercing gaze on the side of his face. He must not be able to hide the slight melancholy from his expression that well.

“Yeah,” he nods, taking a sip of his drink. “Yeah, just- I’m not used to… all this.” He nods towards the room, hoping she gets what he means. Evan playing with the kids. Hen and Athena sipping wine and gossipping on the couch. Bobby talking to May and Denny while he cooks in the kitchen. Chimney, Karen and Eddie laughing about something loudly. Other familiar faces from the 118 all around, gathered here at the Christmas/housewarming party at Bobby and Athena’s new house. They all seem so close, like a real family. Tommy doesn’t know this kind of familiarity, not from work, not among friends, not even from his own childhood home. “I’ve never really had this, you know? The last few years at Harbor have been amazing, all my coworkers are great friends, it’s just-” he stops, shakes his head. The alcohol made his tongue a little looser than he’s comfortable with.

“Not really family. Not like the 118 are.” Maddie finishes for him, understanding in her voice.

“Yeah,” he whispers.

“Well, you’re a part of this family now.” Maddie places her hand on his forearm, a soothing gesture. “And once you’re in, there’s no going back, you’re stuck with us now.” He sees her reassuring smile out of the corner of his eye.

“Thank you.” He says, still watching his boyfriend, and feeling his heart swell with love. For Evan, for this amazing family that welcomed him with open arms, for all his old and new friends, for getting this chance. Not only did he get the love of the most amazing man he’s ever met, he got a whole family, too. He never thought this would happen when he answered that phone call from Howie months ago.

Speaking of, Howie shows up next to them, holding up a branch of mistletoe over his head and grinning.

“Hi, can I get a kiss?” He asks.

“Of course, honey-” Maddie starts to answer, but Howie quickly interrupts.

“I meant from Tommy.” His tone is teasing, and Maddie laughs loudly, Tommy joining her. How much did he have to drink? “I’m serious. Come on, Kinard, you’re the only one left.” He smirks, and Tommy glances at Maddie. She just shrugs, chuckling slightly.

“Fine.” Tommy rolls his eyes, but leans down and- and he swears he means to kiss Howie’s cheek. He swears Howie gives him his cheek to kiss. But then he turns his head and their lips meet, for just a split second. Maddie laughs again. Howie’s grinning at him when he pulls away.

And then Evan materializes seemingly out of thin air, as if he crossed the whole room in a split second.

“What’s going on here?” He asks innocently, but suddenly he’s plastered against Tommy’s side. Tommy can’t hide his amusement. Evan is adorable. “Why are you kissing my boyfriend, Chim?”

“Mistletoe.” Howie shrugs, waving the branch. Evan doesn’t look impressed. 

“Maddie, your husband is kissing my man.”

“I know, I’m right here.” Maddie laughs. “As long as they don’t fall in love,” she jokes with a shrug. “Or we’re gonna have a real problem, Kinard.” She adds half-seriously, and, well, Tommy’s seen Evan’s jealousy, he knows not to mess with a Buckley.

“I have everything I need right here.” Tommy answers, his arm wrapping around Evan’s waist. “You need a mistletoe kiss, too, baby?”

“Like a hundred.” Evan nods. “To erase the image of you kissing my brother-in-law, ew.” He makes a face, and Howie pretends to be offended. 

“Let’s go find mistletoe, then.” Tommy laughs, grabbing Evan’s hand. 

As they walk away, he can see Howie finally using his own branch to kiss his wife, and then twirling her to the music, before kissing her again. They’re really an adorable couple.

Evan leads him to the middle of the living room, where a mistletoe hangs on the overhead lamp, and kisses Tommy so deep and hungry his brain short-circuits. They hear whistles and groans and shouts to get a room, and Tommy laughs into Evan’s lips. He’s never had this, either, being able to be so open and public with his relationship, so accepted. Everyone will tease and make fun of them for being so sickeningly in love, and Tommy will adore every second of it.

“I love you.” Evan whispers, eyes sparkling happily. “You’re all mine.” He adds, voice determined, and Tommy can’t help a loud laugh that escapes him. Oh, Evan’s has his own heart.

“I love you, too, Evan.” Tommy sighs. He doesn’t think he’s ever been happier. He’s surrounded by so much love and family and happiness – and he has his whole world right here in his arms. He never thought he’d have anything close to this, and he’ll forever be so grateful he got this. He doesn’t need any gifts this Christmas, he already has everything he needs.

[also on ao3]

[wake-me-up-inside-imagines]

Hia! Would you want to write another thing with the yandere jock/ Jason? Maybe smth where he or reader gets jealous of the other?

Sure thing! I'm gonna do him getting jealous because I think that would be more fun, but I'm definitely down to do jealous reader as well, just let me know!

Also, this isn't going to be a fully fledged story like the other Jason one was, this prompt felt more headcannon appropriate in my eyes. Hope you don't mind!

Yandere jock getting jealous over reader

Warnings: yandere character, jealousy, slight stalking, Jason's victim makes reader uncomfy, public embarrassment, Jason beats someone up pretty badly, toxic relationship in the sense that Jason's kinda crazy

Gn! reader

Divider credit goes to @cafekitsune

Yandere! Jason who never has to worry about others trying to take you away from him. Besides the fact that you're madly in love with him, he's attractive, he's quite popular on campus, and he's the star football player of his college's team, for fuck's sake. He's got a stacked reputation at best and a nasty mean streak at worst, so why would he ever assume someone would try to take him away from you? That would be social suicide, the worst thing any one could possibly attempt to do, only someone with half a brain stem would attempt to try that-

At least, he thought.

Yandere! Jason who's proven wrong when he overhears someone asking for your number one day, his ears perking up almost instantly when he notices the person who's now sitting at his table in the restaurant, trying to shimmy up to you flirtatiously while you back away silently. Your attempts to distance yourself from this random stranger are proven futile in front of Jason's eyes, your constant reminders of your disinterest and your current boyfriend doing nothing to deter the person now sitting beside you.

Yandere! Jason who can feel his blood boiling as he walks closer, about to blow a gasket. Who was this random person beside you? Didn't they understand that you were taken, by him of all people, no less? Not only that, but did this person really expect to get away with invading your space without any consequences? Were they truly that dense?

This was not going to fly. This was not going to fly at all.

Yandere! Jason who immediately slams your food down, angerly questioning the person in front of him before they can get a word in edgewise. Who are they? What did they want? Didn't they understand you were taken? Were they craving a fist to their face? Because Jason would be more than happy to make that happen.

Despite his threats, the person bothering you seems undeterred. They back off, throwing half-assed apologies over their shoulder, but Jason can tell they don't mean a word. Jason wants nothing more than to punch them in their stupid face, to beat them to a bloody pulp right there on the restaurant floor, but he's in public and has a reputation to upkeep, and besides, you're there. Normally that wouldn't stop him, but he knows his actions may come back to bite you if people know you were with him at the time, so he keeps himself in check, forcing as much of his anger down as possible as he focuses his energy on making sure you're all right, and then on enjoying eating with you. He will not let this ruin his day, his or yours.

Besides, that should be the end of it, right?

Wrong.

Yandere! Jason who can feel his anger returning full force when a couple days later, you tell him that the person you two had seen at the restaurant had somehow gotten your number, and was now texting you nonstop. You don't know how they got it, you certainly didn't give it to them, a fact Jason knows full well, since he was within earshot of the conversation. A friend must have given it to them, or somehow found it online. Either way, they refused to take no for an answer, and in fact, were actively mocking Jason to your face, promising to treat you far better than he ever could.

Yandere! Jason who can feel himself losing control of his rational as he scrolls through your phone, reading message after message after message. There were way too many to count, all of which ranged from slandering Jason, to proclaiming their love for you, to repeated attempts of asking you out. It's not like the person's complements were wrong, in fact, Jason agreed with every loving word that was sent, but that wasn't the problem! The problem was that you were his, only his, and this person couldn't seem to understand that! Not only that, but they were going so far as to insinuate that Jason was treating you poorly, that he wasn't really a good boyfriend, that he was a cheater, no less.

Jason would never, not on you. He loves you. You knew that!

...Right?

Yandere! Jason would is a little relieved to here your reassurances of trust, that you don't believe a word out of this scumbag's mouth, but he can't shake the insecurities this person had planted in his head. Was he treating you right? What if you secretly hated him? What if they could treat you better than he could? What if they were right?

...No. No. They were wrong, they had to be. He was the best man you would ever be able to find, no one would be able to treat you as well as he did. Nobody.

Yandere! Jason who immediately channels his insecurities into anger, excruciatingly burning anger. How dare they? How dare they do this to you, to him?! They wouldn't get away with this, he wouldn't let them. They'd pay for this, for all of this. All rational was out the widow, they were going to suffer for their actions. He'd make sure of it.

Yandere! Jason who's beyond reason at this point. He asks you for the name of the individual, and you happily provide it, thankful that he's planning on stepping in and stopping this madness. You trust your boyfriend, and with his influence? He'll get this person off your back in no time.

...But you have no idea what lengths he'll go to to get back at this person.

Yandere! Jason who easily tracks down the individual who's been bothering you. It's not hard, there are records of who attends the school after all, and even if they weren't a student of the college (which they were, he checked), he'd be able to find them within the city. There's only so far they can live if they're asking you out in person. He quickly makes a list of all the classes the person takes, and then finds all their social media, all their friends, all their clubs, all their connections. He's gonna need to do some digging if he's gonna get some dirt on them, so he'd better start now.

Yandere! Jason who manages to track down the person on campus fairly quickly, it's not hard when he has a comprehensive schedule to follow. He has no trouble following them from class to a more secluded area, it's not like they'd suspect anything with the sea of people coming to and from classes all across campus.

Yandere! Jason who makes his presence known as soon as their are less people around. He curtly brings them to a secluded area (what are the gonna do? Say no? To him? Yeah right) before immediately questioning them, his anger only rising with every nervous, half-baked answer. He was toying with them of course, he already knew there was nothing they could say to satisfy him, but it was still anger inducing to watch them flounder for an answer, only making things worse for themselves the more that they talked.

If the person he's cornered is a woman, Jason will let them go. He's not really in the habit of beating up women, it's not a great look for him, so he'll allow them to escape his questioning, watching them scurry away like a scared little mouse.

If the person isn't a women though...

They don't get to finish their little interview before Jason is on them, beating the ever-loving shit out of their defenseless body. He's a star football player, a prime athlete, so there's very little one could do to defend themselves from his powerful punches once he's angry enough. All they can really do is shield themselves as best they can, praying that he'll run out of energy before they pass out from the beating their body is taking.

Yandere! Jason who stops when they're just on the cusp of consciousness, backing off as his victim tries to regain their senses. He's done enough to them physically, and he's managed to get his anger out the best he could using his fists, so he turns to walk away, throwing a harsh warning over his shoulder. Nobody else is to know of what just took place, or their will be consequences.

But he's not done yet, oh no. The best part is just about to take place.

Yandere! Jason who has a lot of influence. He knows it, the college knows it, and the person he beat up definitely knows it. So why not use it to his advantage? After all, besides the beat-down, he managed to find a couple interesting pieces of dirt on his victim, and it would be a shame to let them go to waste...

Yandere! Jason who watches as this person's reputation goes down in flames seemingly overnight. All he had to do was let a couple of people know what he found out, mostly his team, and boom! The whole campus has suddenly become aware of this person's creepy tendencies, and just like that, any relationships this person had are flushed down the drain. Nobody wants anything to do with them, actively avoiding that person if possible, and in the most extreme cases, people begin messing with the individual, pushing them around and harassing them whenever they're near. It's an amazing transformation, and Jason revels in the chaos of it all, watching the individuals downfall with a smile.

It's a shame, really. All they had to do was leave you alone.

Yandere! Jason who keeps you completely in the dark about everything that he's done. He doesn't want to scare you off, he doesn't want you seeing the full extent of what he's capable of, and besides, you're already upset enough with all that's gone down. Finding out that the person hitting on you not only didn't care about boundaries, but was also a terrible person is a little bit frightening, to say the least. So he'll focus on comforting you, playing the part of the innocent boyfriend who did nothing more than warn the person off, pretending that everything was fine. This was just what happens when someone comes for what's his.

And it would be fine. he'd make sure of it. You weren't going to leave him, least of all for that low life, so really, everything was ok. It had to be ok. He'd make it ok.

You were meant to be with him, and no one else. You were his.

Only his.

[blahblahblees]

hey!!! i was thinking about fem!reader x cole water, something like an enemies/rivals to lovers. they’re both very competitive in class and in sports. but, when cole gets injured, he stops caring about school. now, i don’t know how to continue, maybe reader goes to his house to ask him after he fails or smth and they have a fight that ends with him confessing? idk do your thing!! lots of love

ヽ｀、☁ヽ｀─── swim ミ cole walter

✎ ·˚ ༘ ─── two headstrong rivals who’ve always been competitive in everything they do suddenly stop and when push comes to shove, maybe they’ll fall in love.

wc: 1,125

cole walter x fem!reader (use of she/her pronouns & use of y/l (your last name))

tw: kissing/making out (?)

a/n: shit description from me i’m sorry 🙏. but i wanna say before reading, this prompt leans more towards the book version of cole so that’s what was in my head when writing :)

THERE WAS something about Cole Walter that irritated and intrigued her all at the same time. The way he had this “don’t care” attitude, but had been well off to have at least a “B” in all of his classes. He was Cole Walter and he had been the one people eyed in the hallways. The one guy people wanted to be with and couldn’t have unless he looked your way.

And before his injury, the two of you were always neck and neck. It didn’t matter what the topic or subject was, the two of you just had to be better than the other. If you wanted a “A” in math, he would do his best to make an “A+” just to irk you. If he wanted to run laps around the track, you’d join in and out run him by a mile.

But that was before the injury. Before he came an even bigger asshole, which you didn’t think was possible. Something had shifted after the incident and he’d simply changed. He stopped caring about the sports, the academics, the feelings, almost stopped caring about himself it seemed.

And he just pushed people away, he wanted nothing to do with some people, and maybe that’s why the “Cole Effect” had worked so well. You’d be considered lucky if Cole Walter wanted something to do with you, even if it meant for one night.

But things seemed to never go right for Cole. He started failing and if he continued on this path he would repeating his junior year.

And his teachers assigned him to a tutor for every class and she just so happened to be one of them.

She would tutor Cole for science, but none of it seemed to stick. No matter how often they met for the tutoring session, Cole would only come back to her with “D’s” and “F’s” which she didn’t understand. She was a star student herself, so she didn’t quite understand how or why Cole was failing. It looked bad on the both of them and it seemed as if Cole just didn’t care.

So, one night, she decide that she would take matters into her own hands and simply as him why.

She knocked on the door of the Walter’s and on the other side stood Jackie Howard, a small smile on her face as she looked over at the girl.

“Hey.” Jackie smiled.

“Hey.” She replied. “Is Cole home?”

Jackie nodded, opening the door to allow her inside. “He’s upstairs. His room his the first door you see when you’re up there.”

She thanked Jackie and made her way upstairs and gently knocked on the door.

There was shuffling on the other side, but the door opened and Cole stood on the other side, his shirt absent and his shorts hanging absolutely too low, but he was in his room alone, so she couldn’t quite complain.

“What are you doing here, Y/L?”

“Can we talk?”

Cole rested his hands on the doorknob, his body pressed against the frame of the door. “About?”

She sighed deeply. “You keep failing and your grades are reflecting on my tutoring. So I was just wondering-“

“I appreciate you tutoring me.” Cole said, cutting her off. “I really do, but it’s clearly not working. So maybe we should just-“

“It’s wasn’t like this before.” She said. “You’re smart, Cole. I know you. You’ve gotten better grades than I have out of spite. All I’m asking you to do is to try and… study, listen to me when I’m tutoring you-“

“And if I don’t?”

She looked up at him. She was growing angry. Why was he cutting her short? Why wasn’t he trying?

“What’s your problem?” She asked. “Have I done something to you?”

“Not at all, Y/L.” He said calmly. “But it’s getting late, so maybe you should head back home.”

With that, Cole shut his door and she stood on the other side of it, looking at the wooden piece with her brows furrowed.

It was 8:30.

So, she opened the door and slammed it shut behind her as she stood in Cole and Danny’s room. The other twin absent.

“Can I help you?” He asked.

“What’s wrong you?” She asked. “All semester you’ve been failing every class, haven’t joined any extra curriculars, and have done nothing to fix that. I’m trying my best to be nice and tutor you. I’ve been nothing but nice to you and you’ve been nothing but an asshole since-“

“Since what, Y/L?” He asked, his hands pressed against the desk, his muscles flexing as he did so. “Since the accident?” He chuckled. “I had a scholarship. I had football. I don’t have any of that now, so what’s the point?”

“The point is to keep trying.”

Cole shrugged. “I still don’t see the point.”

Her expression softened as she looked at him. "The point is, you're worth more than that. You have potential, Cole. You just need to find your purpose, something that drives you."

"I don't know anymore," Cole said, his tone defeated. "Everything I thought I knew, everything I thought I wanted, it's all gone."

“You don’t need to figure all of that out right now.”

Cole looked down at her, his eyes searching hers. He heavily sighed as he began to think. Why was she the first person to actually talk some sense into him? Out of everyone, it’d been her to make him almost feel seen.

So, he stepped forward, cupping his hands onto her cheeks and gently pressed his lips against hers. It was a soft, tender kiss at first, as though he was testing the waters to see if she would respond.

Cole pulled back, his forehead resting against hers.

“I’m not going to be one of your girls, Cole.” She muttered.

“You’re not.” He said. “I’m sorry… I- I’ll try. I’ll start trying. I just one chance.”

She followed his eyes, trying to see if he’d been lying or that it was some sort of false hope.

But she couldn’t see it, no matter how hard she looked, nothing but a chance had been there.

So, she nodded and pressed forward, gently pressing her lips against his.

This time, the kiss was more passionate, their lips moving together with more urgency. He wrapped his arms around her, pulling her close as his hands ran through her soft hair.

She let out a soft moan as the kiss deepened, her own hands running over his muscular chest as she pressed herself against him.

They pulled away for a moment, panting and grinning at each other.

“We’ll just take things slow for now, okay?” She said.

Cole nodded. “I can do that.”

— lucy has something to say !!

the book and movie are simply not the same

but anyway, i feel like this is kind of all over the place especially towards the end but its down so that’s all that matters.

my request are opened!

you can check out my rules and such before requesting and checking masterlist to see who i write for, for more!

[httpsdana]

Gavi one where she’s feeling really insecure and comparing herself to others because she’s not the tiniest girl and he just showers her with love

Insecure~Pablo Gavi

*GIF isn't mine. credits to the owner*

A reminder that everyone reading this is absolutely beautiful and i love you all so much 💋💞

you can request from my prompt list

this is my master list

players/drivers i write for

y/n wasn't the tiniest girl ever. She had some fats in her belly, and for her, her thighs where way too big. For her, her face was too round and her cheeks were too chubby. For her she was too much.

Feeling insecure since you were a child only makes it more traumatic when you grow up. You carry that guilt with you until it becomes unbearable. And when you finally start feeling good about yourself, or when you finally accept yourself as you are, something ruins it and takes you back to zero, where you're standing in front of the mirror, and pointing out every imperfection you can see in your appearance, and body.

That was the case with y/n. Growing up as a child she was always bullied for her body. She never felt good about herself. Reaching high school you would say the bullying stopped, but it didn't. It only became worse. That's why when she met Gavi after her graduation, she thought he was just there to make fun of her or something.

She pushed him away thinking that its better than getting attached. But his desire to make this broken girl his won, and there they are happiest as ever.

Well that was until Pablo decided go post a picture of them. They had always been the pribate couple. They only posted pictures where their faces don't appear, just pictures of their hands interwined, or one where their backs are to the camera with his arms around her.

But this picture was on another level. It was a picture of them at one of their friend's wedding. She had a slightly tight dress on, and her stomach was bloated and on display, her hair was out of place and her lipstick was ruined. Her shoulders looked too broad and her smile was awkward. Everything seemed wrong.

Although she knew it was a bad thing to do, she opened the comment to see what people thought about it, and it seemed like everyone had the same opinion as her.

nah look at that double chin 💀🤣

gurl should've gotten a bigger size 😬

is gavi actually dating her-

ain't no way literal models exist and he's with her 💀

i wonder if he's forced to date her or smth

Tear streamed down her face like a river. She didn't think these comments would affect her that much...but they did. She knew people will not like her, but she didn't think she would get more criticism than she did back in high school.

She locked her phone and covered her face with her hands, trying to calm herself down by taking a few breathes.

Maybe if i had blonde hair Pablo would like me more? or colored eyes? he probably thinks I'm too basic for him. or too fat. why is he even still with me? so he can leave me when he's bored? or when he finds a model that's suitable for him?

These thoughts ran through her head, only drowning her even more. She thought that maybe scrolling through tiktok would keep her mind off what she just saw.

Oh how wrong she was. The only videos she saw showed pictures of Pablo with pretty girls, or from his last meet and greet, girls all over him, some giving him their instagram and others their number.

What made it worse was seeing Pablo keep the papers with him. And the caption are all the same thing about Pablo deserving a prettier girl.

She threw her phone across the room and burst into tears. She didn't think it would hurt this much, but it did.

"you scared the hell out of me! why didn't you open the door when i knocked?!" Pablo barged in the room, making her flinch and the sound of the door

Only when he saw her puffy eyes and wet cheeks, his face softened but showed worry instead

"are you okay mi amor? why are you crying what happened?" he asked in a soft voice

He tried wrapping his arms around her but she only pushed him away and tried to stop her sobbing

"y/n.. what's wrong?" he asked, hurt evident in his voice and his eyes

"why are you with me Pablo? are you still here to make fun of me? why are you not with a model or something like literally every other football player? why are here with me? a normal basic fat girl with chubby cheeks and huge thighs and an ugly smile and a-" her sentence was interrupted by Pablo pressing his lips on hers

"y/n baby why are you saying that? you know i adore you. I'm literally so in love you that I can't even look at any other girl. I would die for you my love. Why would i want a model when i have you? a pretty, smart, super adorable, and an amazing chef as my girl. why would i want a girl who only cares about what she wears or how she looks or what she owns. I only want you sweetheart. I only love you and only what to have you in my arms every night. I don't know why you think i would leave you. you're the most beautiful girl I have ever seen. I don't know what made you feel this way, but please don't ever think that low of yourself. I'm so proud of you and i love you so so much" he said in a soft tone, his hands holding her face and wiping her tears with his thumbs. He kissed her tears away and brushed her hair away from her eyes.

She managed to give a small smile. Her stomach erupting with butterflies at the sweet words said by her boyfriend. She felt the genuine love they shared and the sincerity in his voice.

"I don't deserve you. you're amazing. i love you so much" she whispered, wrapping her arms round his torso and laying her head on his chest

"please don't say that. I'm the one who's lucky to have you in my life"

[paranoiddreams]

During an Argument (HC)

BTS during an argument 🥲

இ Warnings!! - mentions of alcohol, angst (?), Tae’s is kinda short sorryyyy, emotional stuff lmao, not sure what else to put but Jk’s kinda made me sad

இ A/n!! - Hello!!! This is my first one of these so go easy. Lmk other headcannons I should do, or even send in some prompts for your bias and I’ll write a short one-shot :3. Enjoy~!!!<3

🍡Seokjin🍡

- the type to raise his voice without realizing, I know this struggle all too well since I do the same exact thing

- He is very passionate about the things he believes in, even if it’s a small issue

- He puts aside his pride most of the time with trivial things, but with more serious obstacles in life, he draws a line

- And those lines/boundaries are not to be messed with.

- He will get heated in the moment, but will eventually calm down later and feel really guilty, without completely blaming himself or the other person since he understands everyone has bad days(!!)

- In the same way that he has boundaries, he will make sure to respect the other person he’s arguing with’s boundaries as well.

- Like he knows better than to being up petty off-topic things, and would never deliberately put someone else down in an argument

- He is a little arrogant at times though, and can get lost in his own truth

- But when he cools down and steps away, he thinks with clear emotions, and will not feel ashamed to be the first one to apologize/want to work things out

🥃Yoongi🥃

- never raises his voice, especially with women

- He has a good grip on his anger and emotions, so he’s able to be mature during arguments, which also ultimately makes him really intimidating

- Wins most arguments based off of aura alone lol

- If things do get heated, he’ll leave before he can say anything he’ll regret—because we’re all human, and it happens.

- Goes for a walk or drive, and thinks about things, before going back and trying to fix anything.

- He only does that with people he loves though, if he’s arguing with someone that doesn’t have an important role in his life, he’s quick to drop them lol

- Depending on the argument of course, but he isn’t one to ignore red flags

- Is an active listener, and will genuinely try to hear the other person’s point of view on the argument

- But he does strike me as the type to keep small things that bother him to himself, ultimately creating resentment and other arguments later

- But he’s aware of it and tries not to🥸

- If things get real bad, he’ll start drinking, but never around the person he’s arguing with. He doesn’t wanna be like that around someone he’s upset with, because he knows that things can get carried away quickly when you as alcohol into the mix

- Overall responsive, mature, but cold.

- Takes responsibility and will apologize if need be without any complaints bc he knows when he’s wrong.

☀️Hobi☀️

- scary scary scary

- Idky, but I’ve always seen Hoseok as the type to be passive aggressive

- Like you’ll know before you fight with him bc there will be little hints that he’s angry a few hours before

- He’s very quiet, but that’s probably what makes him even scarier

- He’s firm and dominant with his beliefs, but is also willing to look at things from opposite point of views later on

- Like in the shower the next day or smth lol

- In all reality, he’s cold and guarded during arguments as a defense mechanism, but is a mess on the inside

- Doesn’t like the feeling of being mad at someone he cares about, or vice versa.

- So, he will almost always be the first to apologize, or come to talk about things

- He’s also shameless during argument, as in he will say some harsh things, but will also be apologizing in the same ferocity later

- Strikes me as the type to go out and buy something, or do something for the other person, as a kind of gateway into talking things out

- Not like bribing them out of being angry with him, but to reset and show surrender almost

- Doesn’t like arguing with anyone, so arguments don’t happen often

- But that’s what makes them even scarier when they happen

- Will ultimately feel bad if he scares anyone though, since he relishes in the feeling of making people laugh and feel hope, he hates making those he cares for feel the polar opposite.

- A sweet baby not too long after fights happen, and won’t stay mad for more than a few hours depending on the argument

✒️Namjoon🖋️

- level headed, mature, and brutally honest

- Oh god I think fighting with this man would destroy me the most personally😊

- He is not afraid to call people out on their bs, no matter who tf it is

- Except his parents bc he doesn’t wanna die

- He is cool, calm, and collected, all things he is usually, but during fights it’s just scary

- He’ll speak with an even tone, but be seething on the inside.

- But he is also respectful and considerate, so depending on the argument, he won’t be purposefully mean

- Especially if it’s someone he loves deeply and is close to. Then, he’ll find himself selecting his words very carefully not matter how angry he is

- Is definitely the type to need space for a few days at least, even if he forgives the person

- If it’s simple miscommunication, he’s fine in a few hours. But if it’s anything big that gives off red flags, he’ll disappear for a few days haha

- It’s projection hours ig

- Will talk to his mom about it maybe, just so he can get her opinions

- Will also possibly talk to one of his members, because he knows that they know what’s best for him as well

- Isn’t one to hold grudges although, and wants to fix things right away if possible

- Doesn’t yell much, but his tone does get very firm and intimidating, we’ve all heard it ami

🪞Jimin🪞

- omg sassy lil bitch (affectionately)

- Petty, but not overly to the point of no return

- Strikes me as the type of person to tell his friends closest to him about the argument just to get advice, kinda like Joon, but with literally anyone he talks to regularly lol

- An EYE ROLLER I CAN FEEL IT YALL

- Accidental manipulator🥹

- May or may not relate to this HEHEHE

- Like he doesn’t realize it sometimes, but he will for sure guilt trip sometimes

- Jimin is definitely the most messy fighter out of them, and will not hesitate to cut ties

- That being said, he’s also the one who’d do the most to redeem himself if he was in the wrong

- He will apologize in person, through letter, through gifts, quality time, food, money, he’ll do anything just don’t hate him :(

- But if ur not anyone too important to him, he’s fine he’ll just— 👻👻👻

- Has a particular annoyance with people who can’t take arguments seriously. Like he wants to fight, scream, and cry if it’s serious enough, just so he can get it out now, but if the other person shows they don’t care as much as him, it’ll piss him off even more

- But then he’ll do the same thing and act like he doesn’t care for days🥲

🍁Taehyung🍁

- the type to talk to himself when things get really deep😭😭😭

- I’m talking like little whispers of “you’ve gotta be kidding me,” or “are they serious right now??”

- Also a disappearing act like Joon, but maybe for even longer🙄

- Tata don’t take shit from people anymore. We already know he’s had his share of toxic friends, so he might resort to petty arguments at times

- Is also emotional, so can say a lot of things he doesn’t mean

- He’s also a guilty conscience like Hobi, and will most likely be the first to apologize depending on where he stands in the argument

- The type to cry—whether it be from sadness, anger, or just pure frustration, he will have tears in his eyes

- Also strikes me as an eye roller and pacer🥲

- Tata feels like the type to care way too much, or not at all, and most of the time it’s the latter

- So most arguments with him end up being one sided at some point bc he’ll just stop giving a fuck😭

- Jimin and him fight the most, but are also coincidentally the most sappy when they make up

🎤Jungkook🎤

- this one is surprisingly hard to write because I really don’t see Koo getting into too many arguments

- He’s a very go-with-the-flow kinda guy, so he doesn’t find himself in those situations too often

- But when he does, he goes very quiet, and almost seems like he’s not listening

- But he is, and maybe a little too much, because he’s only quiet so his brain can race around with negative thoughts

- I think he can get annoyed pretty fast with certain things, and can have an attitude in certain situations though

- But I can see him being better now, since he’s older and more mature

- Like Yoongi, a drinker, but not around the person he’s in an argument with

- He also might just be a journal-venter!!!

- Idk, maybe in his phone notes, or he just vents to his friends through text, but either way, he’s gonna vent his feelings through writing.

- Can’t stay mad for more than a day if it’s someone he really cares about :(

- Like if it’s any of the bts members or his parents/brother, he’s already over it before the argument even ends

- Which is why he can look like a push over sometimes when he gives into the other person too quickly, but in all reality he just doesn’t care anymore and wants to stop fighting

- Gives the same vibes as that one video like, “I suddenly just remembered…I don’t gaf…”

- One of those people who is very dramatic emotionally :,)

- We all know the rain incident with chim 😭💔

DISCLAIMER!! I do not know any of the bts members in real life so these are all interpretations and written purely for entertainment purposes.

[onmyo-jin]

38 they're running out of time

ZYC/ZYZ/WX

I want more about their on point gay throuple dynamic. I was tempted by 7 to shut them up bc ZYZ's mouth gets him in trouble but ultimately I'm an angst person 😅 who's kissing who everyone kissing everyone whatever works i just like their dynamic 😩

No big deal tho if the throuple dynamic isn't smth that inspires you!!

OKAY SO I wasn't going to because I couldn't handle writing more pain along the lines of what the show gave us... except. Except I thought: what if I took the prompt literally, and made a modern AU? and then this happened

Zhou Yichen is usually the first to wake up, without even needing to set an alarm (or twenty) on his phone. Wen Xiao and Zhao Yuanzhou have something of a competition going to see who can sleep in the longest without being late for work. They seem to have a similarly foolish competition going to see who can stay up the latest. Neither of them seems to be winning, although both of them would surely object if Zhuo Yichen said that out loud.

Yichen isn't sure which of these 'competitions' is worse, but as long as they let him get his required eight hours of what zhao Yuanzhou calls 'his beauty sleep' he will leave them to their madness. Zhao Yuanzhou would also say the beauty sleep is working, and that his Zhuo-daren is looking particularly beautiful this day. Then he'd pout and tilt his head towards Zhuo Yichen until he condescends to kiss the idiot. Really, who calls people 'daren' in this day and age? You can tell studying history does weird things to people just from that.

Today starts just horribly, despite Zhuo Yichen's eight hours of sleep. It is pleasantly light outside when Zhuo Yichen wakes. The sun is shining down brightly, valiantly trying to warm the fresh snow in a way that spells 'icy' rather than 'melting'. Their giant bed (Zhao Yuanzhou insists on calling it a nest) is empty, for once leaving Yichen enough space to stretch. Usually when Zhuo Yichen wakes he has to carefully untangle himself from two sets of limbs. The only reason he manages that is because they usually attach themselves onto each other, allowing him to escape to freedom. Usually when Zhuo Yichen wakes, it is still dark outside.

For a moment he closes his eyes, hoping in vain that this is just a bad dream. When he opens his eyes again the sun is still brightly announcing his tardiness to the world, and neither of his spouses has appeared beside him. Zhuo Yichen grabs his phone from the headboard and sees the worst: he is, in fact, running late.

Well. Late by his own standards. By Zhao Yuanzhou's standards he'd be perfectly on time, because university professors get to make their own rules, or something. By Wen Xiao's standards this might still count as late, if only for the time wasted while not researching her latest creature obsessions. Zhuo Yichen forgets what the tardigrade of the day was called that she is studying just now.

Unfortunately large security companies do not run themselves, and being the CEO does not absolve him from normal business hours regardless of what certain university types may claim.

Zhuo Yichen forces himself to stop staring at the inevitability that is the hour and forces himself to move. The room is still night-cold and he breaks out in goosebumps before he can take two steps from the lovely warm bed. He longs for his usual shower, but considering the time it will have to wait until the evening. Zhuo Yichen quickly grabs some clothes– the advantage of wearing 'boring' colours (source: Zhao Y., Wen X., et al.) is he doesn't have to think about what to wear.

He is still combing his hair into some semblance of order when he steps into the living room, and freezes. Wen Xiao has fallen asleep at the dining table, half a library of books surrounding her and her now-dead laptop. There is a blanket draped over her shoulders, and a certain fiend snoring in the one chair that affords a good view of the dining table (and Wen Xiao). Judging by the blanket it would seem that Zhao Yuanzhou won their latest round of 'who can stay up the latest'. 

On his way past he makes sure to kick Zhao Yuanzhou's chair. The man jolts awake annoyingly gracefully, and blinks owlishly at the room for several seconds while Yichen stalks on into the kitchen to get his coffee. He doesn't like skipping breakfast, but if he also skips coffee he may murder someone in traffic before he ever gets to the office. He sets the coffee machine for a triple espresso and decides to raid the fridge for something quick and portable while it works its magic. He turns around, and runs bodily into Zhao Yuanzhou, who has materialized behind him. The great demon wraps his arms around Zhuo Yichen, presses a noisy kiss to his cheek and then searches Zhuo Yichen's face: "What was that for, hm? What have I done wrong now?"

Zhuo Yichen pouts, and looks away from those omniscient eyes to hide his embarrassment. He had no reason to wake Da Yao, not really. It's just… "I don't like waking up alone. The bed is too big." It sounds petulant. It is petulant. It's also more honest than he wanted to be, but that's what people get for asking questions before he's had his coffee.

"Ah, Xiao Zhuo, I'm sorry! I didn't want to wake Wen Xiao, and then I didn't want to wake you, and it was so late and the chair was so comfortable…" Zhao Yuanzhou's wide eyes and convincingly innocent face no longer fool Zhuo Yichen. "Will you forgive this one?" Or at least: they no longer fool him most of the time. This time he will blame the coffee.

He wraps an arm around Zhao Yuanzhou, and presses a kiss to his jaw. "Fine. This once, you are forgiven. Now let me get some breakfast before I have to run, please?"

"Run? Is today a gym day? Please tell me I'm not missing a gym day??" Zhao Yuanzhou is not a sports type. He is the effortlessly skinny but eats for three type. He only cares about gym days because he enjoys seeing Zhuo Yichen sweaty and tired– and enjoys giving him massages (and more) after he returns from the gym pleased and exhausted.

"Today is an I'm running late day," Yichen pulls a grimace. He manages to unstick Yuanzhou far enough that he can reach the fridge, and looks at the appallingly empty state of it. That's what happens when one of your best friends is a professional chef who enjoys feeding his friends. There are more drinks and sauces than edible things in the fridge. Accepting a bad morning and an early lunch, Zhuo Yichen gives up on the fridge and returns to his coffee– only to have a banana waved in his face.

Wen Xiao is still sporting her blanket, her hair in a messy bun and her blouse irrevocably wrinkled from sleep. She also looks very smug. "Take this for breakfast, you terrible early riser."

No banana has ever looked better, so Zhuo Yichen has to kiss her about it. Their lips meet first with enthusiasm, then with lack-of-sleep languor, until she presses the banana against his chest. "Don't make me want to keep you in bed Xiao Zhuo."

"Thanks, Wen-jie," he says to the one who saved his morning.

Zhao Yuanzhou has decided to be helpful (a suspicious occurrence), and hands him his mug of espresso. "What if we did keep him here today," he leers. He does not act on this threat (promise?) but for old times' sake Zhuo Yichen will act offended. It does sound rather tempting, but even a lack of coffee cannot make him that honest. Just in case, he downs his coffee first.

"You will not, you demon," he scoffs. It is a nickname more than an insult by now, in in-joke from back when Zhuo Yichen was convinced he was somehow cursed or haunted or both by Zhao Yuanzhou. The man seemed to be able to follow him anywhere, appearing at the most inconvenient times. The truth, he has since learned, is that his own schedule is perhaps a little bit predictable.

"Very well," his demon heaves a very put-upon sigh, and wraps an arm around Wen Xiao instead. "We shall release you for today." Wen Xiao is nodding along, and suddenly they're all laughing. It takes several minutes for the laughter to fade and for Zhuo Yichen to catch his breath.

"Go on then, off with you," Wen Xiao chides gently, her eyes sparkling up at him. "We'll join you in bed tonight–" "–If not necessarily for sleeping," Zhao Yuanzhou adds cheerfully, earning an elbow in his ribs from Wen Xiao. She reaches out for Yichen, and he lets his hand be captured. She pulls him into another kiss, this one less languid and filled with much more promises. When she breaks the kiss he does not get to catch his breath: Zhao Yuanzhou is there immediately to steal the rest of his oxygen, his kiss fiery and his teeth nipping at Zhuo Yichen's lips, begging, demanding entry. Yichen does not see what happens, but he suspects another elbow has met Zhao Yuanzhou's ribs when he abruptly breaks the kiss.

"See you tonight, Xiao Zhuo," they promise, and Zhuo Yichen knows today will pass entirely too slowly until he makes it back home.

[crackhead4]

I had this idea in my head about an AU from the new transformers one movie.

So you know how the planet is made by this basically higher entity? God? Idk, and they probably knew what exactly was happening on this planet cause , well, they ARE the planet.

What happens if they weren't happy with the outcome of the end of the movie? What happens if they send some back in time with their memory intact completely? They knew exactly what happens, where everyone is like they can feel a bug on their own body. They remember the exact events that made their time line their own, even if they weren't involved in these events.

Now imagine, the obvious choice would be Optimus Prime because of the matrix and stuff, BUT now hold on, IF IT WASN'T HIM. not to like be nice to do the poor guy like noooo. I feel like this AU he should also keep his memories. However, he doesn't know that their HIS memories. That he has these very life like (or robot like?) dreams while he sleeps. He doesn't know why he has them, he doesn't know how they started, why this is only happening to him, he doesn't want to know why this look alike D-16 doesn't act like HIS D-16 and he doesn't even know why his brain ( or is it like brain panel or smth) us making up thus crazy conspiracy theory about Sentinel Prime. All he does know, however, is something in his veins ( I'm not even attempting to try and guess the robot version of veins) is telling him to stay close to HIS D-16. He probably thinks he's going crazy but is lole really good at hiding it, so he goes down to like the archeives to see what the answer is to allllll his questions and dream problem.

ANYWAY (I swerved very off topic) the mech I want to see spiral themselves in the future is D-16, not because there are probably better options like Elita or Bee or hell even Sentinel Prime would be a crazy thing to happen. I WANT TO SEE THIS MAN SUFFER, THAYS WHY.

Because just imagine how Megatron must feel after the movies, it would be perfect and so goddamn MESSY. He probably in grief with losing his best friend/lover (cause we all saw what was going on), then seeing and believing the fact that the matrix is using his dead best friend/lover's body as a way to beat him, having to battle the guilt he must feel for letting go of Orion while he battles this Optimus Prime wear that wears Orion's skin and THEN getting banished by his only home, taking over and leading a whole revolution army on the same night AND THUS (and yes that wasn't a type-o that says THUS) creating THE most depressing, heartbreaking, dramatic, bloody divorce in the history of Cybroton have ever seen.

So now you can see why I want to just pull this mindset and just plop it right back into D-16, the cogless miner. He restarts again from the very beginning, with Orion waking him up, saying he has an idea. The utter carnage and chaos that would ensue would be beyond my imagination right now at like 9:07 at night.

BUT YEAH CIRCLE BACK to the fact that I said they would remember every major event that caused their timeliness to be THEIR timeline, which would mean Megatron would remember everything that happened. He would remember Sentinel Prime's betrayal not just like D-16 but as the Primes the crime wqs committed to. He would feel it like Alphatrion, Megatronus and etc. He would feel the utter rage that Sentinel had when the matrix didn't choose him as the leader and faded right in his hands. He would feel the detach when Airachnid would feel when watching over Sentinel's shoulder and seeing exactly what he does and seeing nothing wrong with it.

HE WOULD FEEL SO MUCH AND I COUPD GO ON AND ON AND ON ABOUT, THIS BUT ANWAY-

I just really want to see what fanfic writers would make if given this prompt cause it's been on Mt mind and he'll I've thought about writing it about like inec as was like Hell no cause I know it would be atrocious to read.

Plus, I really wanted to get this idea just onto something, at least to get it out of my brain but now i don't think that's gonna happen cause now I'm gonna be daydreaming about how other people would work this story idea 😭😭.

BUT YH IF ANYONE IS GONNA MAKE THIS PLEASE TAG BE IN IT SO I COULD READ IT 🙏🙏🙏🙏

[futurecorps3]

Hi!! I would like to request Kaz x f!reader

I’m so sorry that this is so long and if this isn’t making any sense I can’t explain things for the life of me😭 If you do write this, thank you so much, ily :)

Anyway picture this, a reader who is quite sneaky decides that it would be very funny if she snuck a little note with something like „I live for the way you smile so brightly” into Kaz’s coat when he’s not looking. She manages and when Kaz doesn’t bring it up at all, she sneaks another note in. This continues bcs the reader just thinks Kaz is ignoring it and automatically throwing out the notes without reading them or smth. Over the time the notes get a little bit more brave like „you looked very pretty today, Brekker” and become genuine copmliments. Now i have two ideas how could the ending go. Kaz just casually mentions in a conversations with reader the sweet notes which reader is completely shocked by Or reader finds themselfs curiosly looking around Kaz’s office and stumbles upon a little box on his table. Thinking it’s gonna be some kind of jewelry she opens it and sees ALL the notes she snuck into his coat. But uhoh Kaz steps into the office and his eyes widen when he sees reader standing over the box. Reader gets flustered trying to explain what the fuck was she even doing there but is greeted by Kaz’s silence. He’s embarrased about her now knowing that he has been keeping the little notes since the very beginning ijsksjdks istg I’m going insane

𝐒𝐧𝐞𝐚𝐤𝐲

Masterlist<3

Summary: The one where Y/N thinks she's being sneaky. Pairing: Kaz Brekker x fem!reader Warnings: None I think!! Word Count: 2.3K Requested: Yes

A/N: YES YES YES YES I LOVE THIS!!!! I wanted to use the one where he mentions it casually in a conversation but it all led to reader finding out by accident. Tysm nonnie, enjoy, I'm sorry about the huge delay. Tough couple of months, hope u understand and that I did justice to this beautiful prompt, ily2 <3

˚ · • . ° .

It all started as some stupid game. One only Y/N knew about. Everything about it was very silly, the sneaking around, coming up with what the note would say and when to put it inside his coat's pocket. The first time, the girl snuck the neatly folded paper when he excused himself to go to the restroom and left his jacket behind. Easy.

It read 'Your smile lights up the room, Brekker'. Cheesy, untrue and quite simple. She'd bet all her kruge on it, though. That bastard had a wickedly expressive smirk, so his full smile must be as sentimental as his smirk, right? Maybe her note would make him giggle in the confines of his office, maybe Kaz would burn the paper or toss it in the trashcan he so neatly kept under his desk. Truth is, Y/N didn't have an explanation or reason as to why she started all this nonsense.

The prospect of making Kaz angry or laugh even when she wouldn't witness it was probably it. The girl happened to be a sucker for the adrenaline rush of delivering her teasingly sweet notes, too. She got bolder and more creative, even getting the chance to sneak one during a job where she and Kaz had to pair up.

None of the crows knew except for Jesper, and surprisingly, he didn't tease her about it. When he caught her tucking a little pink piece of paper into the inner pocket of his boss' coat, he scoffed with a little smile and downed his whiskey glass.

"What on earth does it say and... why?" Jes smirked as Y/N returned to her seat next to him. "Not relevant, my friend. Don't snitch," "I could never, love." He laughed at his friend's eccentricities and let it slide. Another little secret shared between them wouldn't hurt nobody. Plus, her favorite sharpshooter had plenty to say when he was there to see Kaz discover the notes.

"I'm telling you, he smiled!" "Jesper, I don't care if he did," the girl giggled. She did. She cared a lot. "Kaz Brekker doesn't smile" "He did that weird upside down frown, not quite a smile, but he wasn't exactly displeased." Y/N had to hide the blush creeping up her cheeks by turning around, downing her glass of scotch. Had she really made Kaz smile? Or, somewhat, change that angry expression he seemed to keep, like it was carved carefully and perpetually on the sharp features of his face? There has to be an award to that, she thinks.

That note she remembered; there was a playful banter happening like many times before at the slat between the crows. They were all sitting down at one of the tables after a long day of kicking out pigeons upset because they lost all their money, drinks and giggles shared in a tired, dazed stupor.

"There is no way we could've made it without him. I mean, imagine me trying to carry Nina's dead-weight down two flights of stairs and out of that house." Y/N laughed as they recalled how useful Matthias turned out to be. "He's my favorite" Nina smiled, kissing the Fjerdan's cheek as he smiled proudly with a light red tint on his face (could be from the alcohol but they all knew his girlfriend made him nervous).

"And Inej, dear, I know I'm yours" the grisha teased her friend, pulling her close as the Suli girl smiled, not confirming or denying the allegations. Then Wylan, a bit tipsy and, for some reason defensive, hugged his boyfriend and declared: "Well, Jesper's my favorite," downing his glass. Jesper pulled it aside, pecking his head lovingly. "Inej's mine".

Wylan perked up from his place in Jes' arms with his mouth agape, making everyone break in laughter as the couple argued, their demo-man leaving the table with his boyfriend chasing after him trying not to laugh "Wait, dear I-I'm joking!" "No you were not! Take the couch". After they all calmed down, Matthias finally spoke. "Demjin, tell us, who's your favorite?".

Theatrical silence fell over the group. Kaz's heart sped up a little and Nina could tell, but said nothing. Then, as he scanned the group with a light smirk and his eyes lingered on Y/N for a minute longer, it sped up even more to then recede. "Oh, I know," the heartrender laughed, grabbing her glass to pour more alcohol on it. "You don't, Nina. I don't have favorites. You're all pretty solid assets," he said, voice deep and Y/N wondered how it would sound whispered in her ear.

"That's the closest we're getting to an 'I love you', guys. Hate to break it to you" Inej joked as everyone agreed. After a few more minutes, too tired to keep going, they all went to bed. Kaz woke up the next day to a note on his doorstep that said 'you're my favorite'. It was a bit different from the others he kept in his office. The letter was cursive, written in a rush on a slightly yellow piece of paper. Black ink.

"You plan on ever telling her?" A voice came from his side. Jesper stood, still in his white sleep shirt and trousers. "No one makes you smile. You should tell her, you know, at least." He was greeted by his boss's silence and the sound of his door closing.

Now, of course he knew. In fact, he figured it out after the fourth note or so, but Y/N didn't need to know that. Selfishly, he had been keeping that weird aching in his chest the girl brought all to himself for almost a year and it was getting tiring. Until he figured it out. He just hoped, to anyone who was willing to listen, that the notes weren't some joke for her.

He hoped that all those nights they spent enjoying the silence, the conversations where he'd let the wounded boy talk instead of the bastard of the barrel and she would listen attentively, almost lovingly, meant something to her. And that the notes were her way of saying 'I'm here and I'm not planning on leaving anytime soon'.

Y/N knew the game she came up with ended up being a breath of fresh air for all the compressed feelings she had for the boy. She had no problem with it. In the end, she was telling him every single thought that crossed her mind when those icy blue eyes turned into warmth when they were alone and he let his guard down. The things she knew she'd never say to Kaz's face.

Or so she thought.

It was a big coincidence, like a butterfly effect. Y/N came back from one of her many investigations (a trip to the Geldstraat to gather some information) and was walking up the stairs to Kaz's office to tell him what he found out. "Turns out you were right, he has two kids" she began, entering to an empty room. She should've left, see if he was in his room or downstairs watching the tables. Yet she didn't leave. Instead, with a heavy sigh, she sat in one of the chairs in front of his desk.

It gave off more of the energy from a studio rather than an office. He seemed to appreciate neatness, from the bookshelves with books arranged alphabetically to the candles placed in the appropriate places so the room could be lit perfectly at night. So, of course, she was going to notice the rectangular red box sitting messily on top of a stack of papers right in front of her.

Again, would've, could've, should've stayed in the chair. She got up and peeked. A shock ran through her body, suddenly feeling so very cold she almost turned to see if the window was open. There sat all of her notes, some a bit more used, probably from him folding and unfolding them several times. At the top was the one she sneaked just that morning; "I sometimes wonder if you think about me just as much as I do. Probably not. Have a good day, though".

A million questions running through her head. Why was he keeping them? Did he know she sent them? And most importantly, why was she so stupid!? Y/N could've just... not! Just not write those stupid notes like she had some stupid teenage crush on stupid Kaz and keep her stupid feelings to her stupid self. But no. She always had to be too much, huh? Her words and emotions spilled out of her like a river. The thing was so big it showed over her wrist.

The creek of the door. She was so inside her head she didn't hear Kaz's steps. Shit. Shit. Shit. Hoping it was her imagination playing tricks on her, she turned around. Hope died and there stood Kaz Brekker, wide-eyed and pale as a corpse. She felt like she had to say something and saints she tried, but the knot on her throat only let a choked, unintelligible sound.

It could've been hours, really. Both of them just stared at each other. Kaz was so unbelievably embarrassed he wanted to ask Jesper to just shoot him in the head to end his suffering, begging on his knees for someone to come and help him. He was never this careless, not with things like the notes. He left them out, going through them for the fourth time that week, to get a drink downstairs. How did he miss Y/N walking through the door?

"Kaz I was just here t-to uhm tell you what I found out on G-Garson. I promise I didn't mean to snoop around l-like I wasn't looking through your stuff. A-anyway who a-are these from? They're very swe-" "You don't have to pretend, Y/N."

He knew. A new dread consumed her, and she dropped her eyes to the floor as quick as humanely possible. So stupid. So stupid. "So stupid" "What?" said Kaz, letting out a breath he didn't realize he was keeping in "I'm so stupid, I'm sorry, Kaz. I-I don't know why I wrote those". Was she truly apologising to him, her head bowed in shame? For what? He looked forward to discovering one of those sweet little notes every day, wondering what kind of message she had left him this time.

Hope. He remembered the hope. Maybe he was this upset because the notes would stop now that she knew he knew? His eyes widened even more when he realized Y/N was standing right in front of him, waiting for Kaz to step out of the way so she could escape this torture. "You're right. You shouldn't have. Y-you should've just told me"

"Tell you what, Kaz?" the girl asked, taking a step back and looking straight into his eyes like he was doing. Kaz Rietveld spoke before Brekker could. "Tell me I am your favorite, that I'm on your thoughts nonstop every single fucking day, and that you consider I look lovely even with my hair in my face. If it is true, tell me right up front. I don't think I could stomach it being some crazy game, so please tell me it is real." Perplexed, she stared.

Kaz wanted it to be real, and she knew damn well it was. "You know I don't like games, Brekker. I mean it. All of it. Every single word is just me trying to catch my name in a whisper in your reactions... counting on making you smile, or at least, to temporarily jolt your thoughts from the generally dreary state they seem to be in."

He led a leather hand to grab hers, tangling their fingers with his. The boy couldn't help but notice how beautiful her eyes looked under the candlelight, warm y/e/c welcoming him home. Making him feel at ease in that saint forsaken land, knowing that with her by his side, everything seemed to be just fine.

"Y/N, since you entered my life, I have been acquainted with a new kind of light. Your presence has brought a certain innocence and laughter that I have not known before. Your character is resilient, as if it has been shaped by the hardships of this city. In my eyes, you are the embodiment of light, and I cannot help but find you lovely at all times, too"

It was a love that defied all logic and reasoning, a love that transcended the boundaries of time and space. They had each found in the other a place of serenity, a sanctuary where they could be themselves and forget the chaos of the world outside. With every passing day, their bond grew stronger, until a little piece of heaven was crafted, right there in their midst.

It was their own personal heaven, a place where they could bask in the warmth of knowing glances and brief touches, and where the mere presence of the other was enough to soothe their souls. They had found a love that whispered "I'm here" in the moments when it was necessary, a love that made a home for a broken boy and a shelter for a scarred girl who would go to the ends of the earth for him.

And as they stood there, hand in hand, they knew that they had found something special. They had found a love that was strong enough to weather any storm, a love that would see them through the trials and tribulations of life.

Together with time, they had created a world that was perfect in its imperfection, a world that was full of love, laughter, and joy. And as they gazed into each other's eyes, they knew that they had found their own personal piece of heaven on earth.

˚ · • . ° .

Hi! Thank you so much for reading, hope you enjoyed:)

Remember, the best way to support writer’s works on here is by REBLOGGING WITH TAGS. I’d very much appreciate it if you did!

Thanks again, stranger. Hope you have a nice day<3

[httpiastri]

❣️I dont think its really a prompt, but can you do smth along the lines of how the feelings confession would go with luke, logan, oscar and jak? Like who would do it, how, context, etc. Sorry if it's a boring ask, just wondering. No problem if you don't want to do it

❣️ – send me a prompt and one/a few drivers and i'll tell you how i think they would react!!

luke browning

to me, luke is definitely acquaintances to friends to something more coded. it happens very slowly with him, but somehow it all feels so natural; you go from barely knowing each other to being so important to each other and neither of you really understand how that happened. luke is a confident guy, though, and there's something inside of him telling him that you feel the same way he does.

so when he gets the chance (when the two of you trip over each other's feet and fall to the floor, faces mere centimeters away when he hovers over you; or when you're out clubbing and you're "accidentally" pressed up too close to each other), he takes it.

"please tell me i'm not the only one who feels like this," he says, breath hitching in his throat, but he pushes through. "please tell me you want this as much as i do. because i really do want this."

logan sargeant

personally, i see logan as someone who would be quite straightforward. i see it happening one evening after you, him and a bunch of your mutual friends have gone out for dinner, and he offers to walk you home. after a slow stroll through the chilly night air, the two of you finally reach your doorstep, you're about to say goodbye when logan asks "can i be honest with you?"

you tell him that of course he can be honest with you – you've been friends for a long time, you won't judge. "there's something i need to get off my chest," he says, his gaze darting around for a while before meeting yours. "you've probably noticed, because i think i act a little different around you, but... i think i really like you, and i would love to see if we could be something more than just friends."

oscar piastri

oscar is very perceptive and analytical, but unfortunately this also often leads to a lot of overthinking. he notices all of the subtle signs you give him – the way you touch his shoulder when you laugh, the way your eyes light up when he tells you about his day, the way you always lean closer to him when talking as if you're instinctively drawn to him – but there are still a lot of things that make him doubt. so, naturally, it takes him quite a while to work up the courage to say something. the thoughts live in his head for so long, his wishes to be more than just friends eating him up from the inside, until he eventually just snaps.

"i need you to know something," he tells you one day, his fears heavy on his shoulders. "it's alright if you don't feel the same way. really. but... i really enjoy spending time with you. and I think you're a great person, and I..." oscar has to shake his head and let out a low chuckle at himself and his inability to get to the point. "and I like you. i really hope you like me, too."

jak crawford

following up on the brother's best friend theme, i think that it would take him quite some time to grow comfortable with the fact that he's crushing on the sibling of his friend. even when he first realizes that his feelings for you aren't just platonic, he tries to fight it and pretend like everything is normal. but it isn't and there's just no way for him to ignore it.

the first thing he does is ask your brother for permission; jak is comfortable enough with him and knows that without your brother's approval, there can never be anything between you. but thankfully, your brother gives his blessing and tells jak that his fingers will be crossed for a new brother-in-law. (to which the american boy just groans and states that it's way too early for that)

i see jak as the type to be spontaneous and just go for it when the moment feels right. very possibly after a good race result, when he's tipsy from the podium champagne and drunk on happiness. when you stumble upon him in the paddock, and he feels his heart swelling in his chest as you wrap your arms around him, he doesn't care if there are people around. he leans closer to your face, giving you a few moments to pull away if you want to – but when he sees the lack of hesitation from your side, he leans in to press his lips to yours.

"sorry, i couldn't stop myself... is this alright? because... i kinda want more."

[h00nerz]

murphy’s law!

masterlist | 1k celebration

pairing: choi beomgyu x gn!reader

genre: angst, fluff, high school au, troublemaker!beomgyu, stuco president!reader, kind of one sided enemies to lovers if you squint

word count: 3.2k (im so sorry)

warnings: none afaik? just burnt out reader

prompt(s): #5 — “why are you crying?”

requested: “hi! congratulations on 1k followers!!! for the event, can i have prompt 5 with beomgyu? what i had on mind was like highschool au and reader just had a bad day or smth and had to stay after school to clean, and started crying in the classroom alone and beomgyu was also in the school and heard reader crying and found that it was his long time crush? i hope this makes sense! sorry if this was too long too😓 thank you in advance!!♥️♥️” — @loveliii

authors note: omg the first drabble of the celebration... except apparently i can’t write drabbles so it’s more of a oneshot plz forgive me.

MURPHY’S LAW STATES: everything that can go wrong, will go wrong. Now, you had no idea who Murphy was, but you used to always believe he was full of shit. There had been plenty of instances where things could have gone wrong, but they didn’t. 

In fact, when it came to your case, it seemed like things usually went right. You got good grades, and got along well with all of your teachers. You were the captain of your school’s volleyball team, and had even been elected your school’s student body president your last year of high school. Things always went well for you, which is why you had never really been a believer in what that Murphy guy had to say. 

At least, that’s what you thought before today. Because now, you were starting to think maybe you had taken your past ability to narrowly avoid disaster for granted. Because today, just like Murphy had once predicted, everything that could go wrong did just that: go wrong. 

It started with your stupid charger. The night before, you must have apparently unplugged it, because when you plugged it into your phone before going to bed, it never charged. Which meant your phone died, and that meant your alarm never went off. And that meant you woke up ten minutes before school started, and your bus was going to be there any second. 

So, in the quickest fashion you could muster, you brushed through your hair so you looked at least somewhat presentable then slipped into your uniform. You were incredibly impressed by how fast you’d managed to do that—just over 60 seconds! It must have been some kind of record. Less impressive, though, was the fact that even though you had been so speedy, you watched as the bus you were supposed to be on drove away in the direction of your school, leaving you behind. 

Thank goodness for all those years playing volleyball, you had built up enough stamina to (barely) get you from your house all the way to the school. You were twenty minutes late, sure, but hey, at least you were there, right? Your first period teacher was not so understanding, almost immediately assigning you to detention after school. 

Detention. You never got detention. In your four years at that school, working your ass off to be the best student you could be, a child your parents could be proud ofc, not once had you gotten assigned to detention. The realization that for the first time ever, you’d been punished by a teacher, was a foreign feeling as you sat at your desk and replayed everything that had happened. Detention, all because your stupid phone charger decided not to work the night before. 

“Damn, I thought you were immune to detention.” A voice behind you whispered, and you glanced over to see Choi Beomgyu grinning at you. Of course Beomgyu had seen that all. 

Choi Beomgyu was the exact opposite of you. He had fights with teachers basically on the daily, and you were pretty sure he was failing most of his classes. Not because he was stupid, by any means, he was actually really smart. He just didn’t try, he didn’t care about school the way you did. What he did care about, though, was teasing you as much as was humanly possible. 

And of course, he had just seen you, the student body president, run into class twenty minutes late and get detention. 

You had half a mind to bite back at him, because oh would that be satisfying, but you weren’t looking to talk in the middle of class and make your punishment worse than it already was. You instead gave him a side-eye glare, and he must have found it amusing since he started to giggle. 

Once class got out, you really shouldn’t have been surprised to glance over your shoulder to see Choi Beomgyu following you, hot on your tail like he was some sort of lost puppy. You groaned quietly to yourself, hoping that if you ignored him long enough, he would get bored and walk away. Unfortunately, Beomgyu was a very patient man. 

“I can’t believe you were late! What happened? Did your carriage lose a wheel on the way here, your highness?” He asked, using his long legs so he could get right up next to you.  

You stayed silent.

“Come on, you can tell me! I’m like, the king of being late. I won’t judge.” He nudged your arm with his elbow, with just enough pressure for you to fall out of your rhythm. Now, he finally had your attention as you turned to look at him, eyes narrowed.

“Look, I’m not in the mood today, okay?” You told him flatly, and you were expecting him to find your irritable mood amusing, and find a way to push your buttons further than he already had, but he didn’t. 

Instead, his face softened and he (surprisingly) went quiet. You didn’t bother sticking around to figure out what that was all about, not when you still needed to get to your class on the other end of the building, and you were not risking being late to a second class. So, you gave him a small nod, a thank you for leaving you alone, then walked away.

The rest of your day wasn’t any better. 

In your history class, you got your grades for a test you’d recently taken, and nearly fell out of your seat when you saw a big fat C staring back at you. And your horror increased tenfold when you saw it wasn’t just a C, but a C minus. Never in your high school career had you gotten a C minus. 

At that point of the day, you were starting to become convinced that someone had put some sort of curse on you. You didn’t really have any enemies who would have done that to you, though. Except maybe Choi Beomgyu, but you had a feeling putting a curse on someone was too much effort for him to be bothered with.

By the time the school day was over, you were completely exhausted. At lunch, your best friend, Sumin, accidentally spilled her drink on your uniform, and now you were wearing some extras from the lost and found that were much too big for you. You wanted nothing more than to go home, crawl into your bed and have a good cry, but you still had to do your detention. 

You weren’t really sure what to expect from detention, considering you’d never had to do it before. You knew you weren’t looking forward to it, though, and just hoped it wouldn’t be anything horrible--especially since it was your first offense.

Your first period teacher was waiting for you in her classroom after classes got out, and she greeted you with a sympathetic smile. “Y/N. You know you’re one of my favorite students, so it really broke my heart when I saw you come in late this morning.”

The urge to roll your eyes arose, but you managed to fight it. Here she was, acting like you had betrayed her or something, when really, it was her decision to punish you for something so small. 

“I understand.” You replied with a nod, avoiding her gaze. 

“Good. So, I figured out the perfect thing for you.” She stood up and began to walk out of the classroom, with you following closely behind. 

Apparently, the perfect thing for you was some storage room that clearly hadn’t been cleaned in a long time. There had been racks with boxes of textbooks that must have gotten knocked over, since the books were now all over the floor. And the room was covered in a thick layer of dust that made your nose itch the second you stepped inside. She left you with a singular rag, a bottle of cleaner, then left you alone.

You stood in the doorframe, assessing the room in front of you. Just from looking at it, you knew it was going to take you at least a few hours to clean the entire thing by yourself. Which meant it was going to be a few hours before you could go home, a few hours before you could go sleep this horrible, awful day away. Even worse, you were sure that something would go wrong during those next few hours that would prolong the time even longer. 

Throughout the whole day, ever since you first realized you’d missed the bus, you had felt tears pricking your waterline, but you had managed to hold them in. You were going to wait until you were in your own bedroom, in private, before you even thought of letting them out. But now, as you stood there, staring at the mess in front of you, you could no longer hold them in.

It was like the floodgates had opened up, and all of the emotions you’d been restraining all day were released. A sob racked through your body, and you were no longer able to keep yourself steady, your knees unbuckling beneath you and causing you to collapse onto the floor. It was wildly embarrassing, the way you became a mess on the floor of the dirtiest room you’d ever seen, where anyone could walk in and see you. 

And of course, because stupid Murphy just had to be right, that was exactly what happened. 

There was a soft knock at the door, and you hurriedly looked over your shoulder to see the absolute last person you wanted to see poking his head in. You were overcome with horror as you snapped your head around to look away, praying as hard as you could to whatever deity would listen that he hadn’t seen your tears. 

“Woah, are you crying?” He asked, and you shook your head.

“No. Why would I be crying?” You sniffled, picking up the rag and spray bottle you had dropped onto the floor and standing up. He caught a glimpse of your face again when you walked past, and he scoffed. 

“You’re totally crying. Why are you crying? What’s wrong?” He asked again, stepping further into the storage closet and shutting the door behind him. 

You shot him a glare as you attempted to stand one of the racks back up. “I’m not crying. Besides, even if I were, I’m not telling you. You’ll just make fun of me.” You mumbled the last part. Standing the rack up was proving to be futile. 

“No I wouldn’t!” He defended himself, watching as you struggled to push the rack up. “Here, let me help you with that--”

“No!” You snapped at him, and he backed up with his hands held up defensively. You tried one more time to stand it up, and let out a frustrated groan when it once again wouldn’t budge. You had no choice but to surrender, and move to the side so Beomgyu could help you. 

You were angry that you had to get his help to move the stupid thing. Now you were forced to be thankful he had showed up and barged in. “Thanks.” You muttered, brushing past him as you went to once again get your little rag and bottle.

“You’re welcome.” Beomgyu replied, and though you were facing away from him, you could hear his annoying, cocky smile in his voice. “So, are you going to tell me why you were crying?” 

“No.”

“Oh, so you were crying!”

“I didn’t say that.” You looked up at him as you sprayed cleaner onto the dusty shelf. “I told you already, didn’t I? I don’t want to talk about it.” 

Unfortunately, he didn’t seem as willing to drop the subject as he had earlier in the day. “Come on, Y/N. I saw you crying, you’re clearly upset, just tell me about it!” 

“You’re going to laugh at me.”

“No I won’t!” He exclaimed, sounding exasperated. You raised an eye at his outburst, and he cleared his throat. “Seriously. I won’t.” He softened his tone, looking at you with pleading eyes. 

You stared back at him, trying to figure out if you could trust him. This was Choi Beomgyu you were talking about, the boy who had tormented you for years on end with his constant teasing. But, he did look very sincere. And you were sort of itching to rant to someone. 

“Fine. My phone didn’t charge last night, so my alarm never went off, so I woke up late, then I missed the bus and had to run to school, and then I got detention, and then I got a C on my stupid history test, and then Sumin spilled her stupid soda on me, so I had to wear this stupid uniform from the lost and found, and-and then I had to come here and clean this stupid closet, and I’m just so tired, and I-I--” The next thing you knew you were crying again, your breath hitching in the back of your throat as the tears spilled onto your cheeks once again. 

The second the sobs slipped from your lips again, Beomgyu rushed around the shelf, slipping his arms around your trembling body and pulling you close to his chest. You were so desperate for any kind of comfort, you didn’t bother trying to push him away. Instead, you leaned into his touch, reaching up to grip onto the edge of his uniform jacket. He began to rub your back as you buried your face into his shirt, letting yourself cry--like, really cry. You thought you were going to pass out at any second from how difficult it was for you to catch your breath between sobs. 

After enough of his fingers rubbing circles into your back and his soft shh’s whispered into your ear, you were slowly able to calm down to the point you could breathe again. It was truly unbelievable that you were here, in some dusty storage closet crying into Choi Beomgyu’s arms. It was not a position you had ever predicted yourself to be in. And yet…

You didn’t totally hate it.

“Can I tell you something?” Beomgyu asked softly, and with a small sniffle, you nodded against his shirt. “The reason I tease you so much… It’s so embarrassing…” He laughed softly, and you gently pulled your head away, looking up at him with furrowed eyebrows.

“What?” You asked, and as he gazed down at you, his cheeks reddened. 

“Um… When we were in first grade, I tried to copy off of your test, once…”

“Yeah, I knew that.”

“What?! No you didn’t, I was so subtle, you didn’t even notice.” He shook his head, and you rolled your eyes. “But anyways, that’s not the point. I was trying to copy off your test, but I remember, I made the mistake of looking at your face--”

“What’s wrong with my face?” You asked defensively, a frown befalling your features.

“Let me finish!” He snapped at you, and out of curiosity to hear the rest of the story, you conceded. “So, I made the mistake of looking at your face, and you were all focused, and had your tongue sticking out of the side of your mouth,” he paused to allow a giggle to escape his lips. 

“And I remember thinking you were so cute, and then I got so distracted watching you, by the time you got up to turn your test in, I had missed everything you had written down.”

You stared at him in confusion, trying to figure out what on Earth the point of this whole story was. “What…?”

He rolled his eyes. “Oh come on, Y/N. You’re the top of all our classes, and you can’t figure it out?” 

You shook your head, and he let out a defeated sigh.

“I’m saying, Y/N, that I tease you because…” He paused, sucking in a shaky breath. “Because I like you, okay?” 

“Oh.” 

Oh.

Beomgyu liked you? Since first grade? You were unable to process his words, playing them in your head on repeat like some kind of broken record. He liked you. He annoyed the hell out of you, just because he liked you. What kind of middle school boy behavior was that? 

“Oh? Is that all you have to say to my heartfelt confession?” He asked in fake offense, and you quickly shook your head. 

“No! I’m just--it’s just--you like me? As in like-like me?” He nodded in confirmation, and you squinted your eyes at him. As he watched you, your gaze drifted down to his jacket, which you had been clinging onto just moments earlier, and the tear soaked fabric. 

You felt like you should be absolutely appalled by his confession, and wracked with disgust, or something. You weren’t supposed to like Beomgyu! You weren’t supposed to be able to even stand him! But, his confession wasn’t the worst thing you had ever heard. In fact, as your fingers reached out to graze the edge of his jacket, you thought maybe you sort of liked hearing it.

“Y/N?” He asked you quietly, and you hummed in answer. “You don’t have to say anything, you know. In fact, if you really want me to, I can leave. Or you can leave, and I’ll finish cleaning for you--”

Maybe it was because you were in an emotionally crazed state, or you were desperate to prove Murphy wrong, hell, maybe it was just because you liked him back, but whatever it was, something overcame you, and the next thing you knew, you were tightening your fingers around his jacket to pull him close to you and press your lips against his. 

The first thing you thought when you kissed Choi Beomgyu, was why hadn’t you done this sooner? You had been so consumed by your dislike towards him, and too focused on other things like your academics, you had never stopped to think of Beomgyu in this way. But now, as he immediately kissed you back, and wrapped his arms around your waist, you wished you had thought of him this way. 

Because kissing Choi Beomgyu was absolutely not wrong. Rather, it was very, very right. It was like his lips were made to fit perfectly against your own, as they moved together in unison. You started to think all the bad things that had gone down that day weren’t so bad if it meant they would lead to this. 

After what felt like an eternity of heavy breathing and hot kisses, the two of you finally pulled away, resting your foreheads against one another as you attempted to catch your breath. You glanced up at Beomgyu, a small grin spreading across your face to mirror his own. 

“Hey, do you really want to clean all this shit?” He asked quietly, cocking an eyebrow at you. You shook your head. “Didn’t think so. Let’s get out of here, we’ll just tell them I kidnapped you, or something. You’re the Pres, they’ll believe us.”

Running away now was risking even further punishment, but Beomgyu was right. You were the president, you could basically do whatever you wanted. Besides, you’d spent all day trying to do the right thing, and still, everything had gone wrong. So, why not live a little, right? And why not do it with the cute boy who just confessed he’d liked you since the first grade?

You nodded. “Okay.”  

permanent tag list: @jakeshands @therealhyunjingf @exohclipse @ttyunz @naveries @mazeinthemoon @luvsoobs @n0-thisispatrick @arizzu @dewyboi @yeonboy

[l-littlebird-l]

Hello, little bird🥰✨ I hope you’re doing well! I wanted to thank you once again for the masterpiece “The Blind Dance”, that was breathtaking!❤️‍🔥

If you don’t mind, I’d love to share with you some of my thoughts, they might be veeery stupid, I’m sorry in advance, that’s just what happens in my feverish brain (Ominis’ been filling my mind completely for several months🙈)

So, personally I’m into powerful and let’s say dominant Ominis hehe. What do you think about it:

Ominis and MC are friends and of course both of them have hidden feelings for each other. One day, MC appears to have a bruise on her neck from some regular fight she had. Ominis can’t see it obviously, but hears some ambiguous remarks about her neck. He gets super jealous and storms to his beloved Undercroft/dormitory/any empty classroom to let off some steam, she notices his state and follows him. And when she asks wtf with you, he bursts out. Like... slams her up against the wall, holds her neck where the bruise is and smth like “who the hell was he?!” (maybe some assumptions that it was Sebastian, cause he knows they spend a lot of time together), basically revealing his dark intimidating side a bit. There can also be insults and some parseltongue spilling of course cause this boy can’t control himself hehe. She’s outraged, trying to push him away, but he realizes how stupid he was, apologizes passionately and then.. no less passionate and possessive sex with parseltongue as well🔥

Gooods I just needed to share it with you, and maybe you will find some ideas inspiring for your incredible talent! And it’s totally fine if you find it an utter rubbish, my brain’s just not working properly when it relates to Ominis😂

Thank you again, we’re all so happy to have you in this fandom!💕

Thank you so much for your patience with this piece! I loved writing it and I had a lot of fun playing around with Ominis’ emotions. 😉 Rest assured, your prompt for this piece was amazing. Thank you so much for being my first request, and I really appreciate all the kind words you give me. The Blind Dance is one of my favorites as well. Ominis just has this way about him. 💕 You definitely piqued some ideas for later stories. Thank you again, and enjoy!

• Jealousy Is a Terrible Thing •

Ominis Gaunt x MC (Smut)

— Requests are Open —

Summary: Ominis’ jealousy flares up when Sebastian returns to the common room well past midnight, carrying your scent. The accumulation of lies and excuses reaches its breaking point, leading to a heated confrontation between you two.

—

Ominis is a master at finding every possible opportunity he can to get closer to you. He's like a magnet, whether that means strategically choosing the seat next to yours in class, skillfully appearing in the same hallways as you, suggesting lunch dates at The Three Broomsticks, or inviting you to join him for study sessions in a cozy corner of the library.

For him, every minute spent by your side fills his day with an unparalleled sense of happiness. It's as if the entire world around him had shifted since you entered his life. He now has something, or rather someone, to look forward to greeting every single day.

But today, however, things took an unusual turn. Ominis had hardly slept, and his mood was decidedly foul. All night, his mind had raced, tormented by the question of why Sebastian had returned to the common room so late last night, bearing the unmistakable trace of your scent. He wrestled with this enigma throughout the night, and what compounded his distress was Sebastian's blatant falsehood. Sebastian was notorious for brushing things off and fabricating the flimsiest of excuses. But that scent, Ominis recognized it all too intimately—it was unquestionably yours. A fire churned within him, a spark of jealously aflame.

(Recap)

As the clocks hands inched past curfew, Sebastian clandestinely slipped into the common room, his movements shrouded in secrecy. His arrival, however, didn’t go unnoticed. Ominis lifted his head from his book as he drew a deep breath, catching a tantalizing trace of your scent emanating from Sebastian's clothing.

Without missing a beat, Ominis confronted Sebastian, his voice laced with an unmistakable sharp edge. "Sebastian, you're out past curfew. What were you up to?"

Sebastian, however, was quick on his feet. He met Ominis' gaze with a feign air of innocence. "Oh, nothing much, just a late-night stroll. Clearing my head, you know."

Ominis slammed his book shut and rose from his seat, his brows knit together with irritation. "Late-night stroll? Clearing your head?" he scoffed, his voice tinted with bitterness. "Don't insult my intelligence, Sebastian. I can smell her on you."

Sebastian tried to maintain an air of nonchalance, beads of sweat formed along his forehead. "You're imagining things, Ominis. Just a bit paranoid, aren't we?"

But Ominis was having none of it. He took several steps forward, his words biting through the air. "I know the scent of her perfume, Sebastian. Don't think you can play the fool with me."

Sebastian's mask of indifference began to crack as Ominis' possessiveness pressed in on him. "Fine," he spat back, the veneer of politeness shattering. "I was with her. So what? She can choose who she spends her time with."

Ominis' patience wore thin, and his anger flared as he leaned forward. "You're playing a dangerous game, Sebastian," he growled, his jealousy unleashing. "She's mine, and you'd do well to remember that."

Sebastian, seemingly unfazed, crossed his arms with a smirk, his voice edged with false nonchalance. "Why do you care so much, Ominis? What I do with her is none of your concern."

Ominis gritted his teeth, his temper burning from within. He wanted to shout, to demand answers, but his pride kept him restrained. “Just answer the question, Sebastian. What were you doing with her?”

Sebastian leaned forward, his tone a venomous whisper. "Maybe you're just not man enough to satisfy her."

Ominis clenched his jaw, his jealousy scraping the forefront, but he couldn't bring himself to reveal the true depth of his feelings.

Sebastian leaned back, a smug grin playing on his face. "You're so possessive, Ominis. It's pathetic. She's not yours to control."

Ominis, his anger boiling over, shot back, "You're just a playboy, Sebastian. You don't understand what it means to truly care about someone."

Their words hung in the air, charged with tension and unresolved emotions. The common rooms quiet atmosphere seemed to amplify, and neither of them was ready to back down.

Sebastian's eyes narrowed, as he leaned in closer to Ominis, his voice dripping with venom. "And what would you know about caring for someone? You've never even seen her face, let alone know what it's like to be with someone like her."

Ominis couldn’t take it anymore. The frustration, the jealousy, the pain all swirled inside him like a tempest. He had been holding back, trying to maintain some semblance of control, but Sebastian’s taunts and insinuations were pushing him over the edge. A dark, sinuous whisper echoing within his head.

With furious colors, Ominis lunged at Sebastian, his control slipping away like sand through his fingers. He grabbed Sebastian’s collar, his fingers digging into the fabric as he shoved him forcefully against the wall. His face was contorted with rage as he leaned in closely.

Sebastian was caught off guard by Ominis’ sudden loss of control, despite being pinned against the wall and faced with Ominis' seething anger, he managed to taunt one last time. He grinned, though there was a nervous edge to it.

"Ominis, you're blind in more ways than one," he sneered, digging in with a final jab.

Ominis' grip on Sebastian's collar tightened, his knuckles turning white. He was on the verge of losing control completely, his anger and jealousy driving him to the brink of madness. The whisper inside, growing louder with each passing second.

As Sebastian's taunting words hit Ominis, they seemed to strike a deeper chord. Ominis' anger slowly faded, replaced by a wounded look in his eyes. He slowly released his grip on Sebastian's collar, taking a step back and facing away.

His voice, when he spoke, was filled with a poisonous blend of hurt and resignation. "Fine, Sebastian. Have it your way," he muttered, his anger now overshadowed by a sense of defeat and pain.

Sebastian held his gaze on Ominis’ back for a moment longer before breaking away, storming off to bed with Ominis' words echoing in his ears.

Left alone in the dimly lit common room, Ominis couldn't quell the burning jealousy that gripped his heart. His mind raced with turbulent thoughts, imagining what you and Sebastian were doing together. Each passing minute felt like an eternity as his possessiveness over you gnawed at him, making it impossible for him to find solace in sleep. The scent of another man, bearing traces of you, lingered in the air, a reminder that he couldn't shake off.

As the day dragged on, he found himself in the library, waiting for your arrival. The evening had been earmarked for a study session between the two of you. He positioned himself in a secluded corner of the library, setting the stage for a mental game amidst the book-lined corridors. Aware of the intricate nature of his little mind game, he knew that extracting answers required meticulous finesse. Every move, every word was a potential gambit on your friendship. His mind was a turbulent sea of unanswered questions, each wave threatening to consume his thoughts. The stakes were high, and the risks, even higher. But his determination burned in red. He needed answers, and if Sebastian wasn’t going to give them to him— then you will.

Even moments before your arrival, his mind raced with restless thoughts, the relentless curiosity within him clawing at his very core. A low grumble slipped from his lips, his fingers sinking into the pages of his book, an unsettling image flashing vividly within his thoughts.

"There you are," a familiar voice greeted him with enthusiasm, the sound of your steps weaving around the bookshelves as you plopped your stack of books on the table.

Ominis, drawn by the melody of your sweet voice, lifted his head, and his countenance transformed. His features softened, and a smile, one reserved solely for you, gently curved his lips. The crashing waves of his mind finding ease.

"So you decided to come after all," he teased, deliberately averting his gaze back to the book in his hand as his grip softens.

"Of course I'd show up, I'd never miss our study time together. It’s too precious," you playfully retorted, settling down next to him.

As you opened your books, the sound of the pages turning harmonized with the subtle waft of your scent, enveloping the space around him. That same, familiar scent, lingering in the air, stirring something within.

The library was unusually hushed, the subtle sound of his nails picking at the corners of parchment, bending them with a nervous energy. Your gaze instinctively followed the sound, an elegant dance of curiosity shifting between his fidgeting fingers and his pensive expression.

You sat there, quietly studying him for a few moments, pondering on what’s occupying his thoughts. Something about him seemed amiss, though you couldn't quite pinpoint it.

You leaned into him, your body brushing against his as your lips drew close to his ear, your voice a soft whisper. "You're not typically one to fidget with your hands. Is something on your mind, Ominis?"

Your closeness seemed to have a calculated impact, causing his demeanor to subtly shift. The sound of the parchment ceased as he turned his focus toward you, his face adorned with a serene mask of calmness. "Hmm? Oh, no. Nothings on my mind."

Your concern etched lines of worry onto your brow, still convinced that something weighed heavily on his mind, but he wasn’t budging.

"Ominis..." you hummed, your hand gently finding its place against his thigh, your voice carrying a soothing, reassuring tone. "You know you can talk to me."

In a fleeting moment, all his defenses crumbled. A lump formed in his throat, your sweet, captivating scent enveloping him like a warm embrace. The gentle brush of your hand against his thigh ignited an indescribable sensation deep within him. In that moment, he wished for time to stand still, for this instant to stretch into eternity. Just you and him, a world apart from everyone else—a world far from Sebastian. It all faded into obscurity. It was as if only the two of you existed in that space.

You couldn't help but notice how your presence seemed to have a calming effect on him. Your fingers traced a gentle, reassuring path up and down his thigh, and a soft, affectionate grin danced at the corners of your lips as you observed him intently. He looks so sweet…

In this sanctuary, Ominis felt a newfound comfort, an urge to confide in you, to lay bare everything that had tormented him, and perhaps even to express the emotions he'd kept concealed for so long. He yearned to spill it all out, to finally lay his heart on the table.

Just as he was about to speak, a subtle squeeze from your hand against his thigh brought him back to reality. His lashes faltered, and with a soft, deliberate hold, his hand grazed against yours, seemingly hesitant to speak.

His lips were parted, and for a brief moment, he seemed as if he was on the brink of saying something, but his lips drew a line. Instead, he took in a deep breath, casually flipping to the next page in his book with a flick of his wand.

"You needn’t worry about me, I'm fine," Ominis insisted, his words carefully neutral. "I just couldn’t find sleep."

You sighed, not entirely convinced by his statement, but willing to go with it. "How come?" You inquired gently, your fingers naturally gravitating toward the comforting warmth of his inner thigh.

His breath hitched for a mere second, the feeling of your hand tantalizingly close clouded his mind with your sweet, intoxicating presence.

"Sleep often seems to evade me more times than I care to count. So I opted for some light reading in the common room last night," he began, his voice steady. A momentary pause followed as he carefully considered his next words. He taps his nail against the parchment with an unsettledness. “Just as I was wrapping up on my reading, a rather… perplexing encounter held me.”

His eyes lined up with keen perception as he sensed your hand twitch in response to his words, a restrained, sly grin tugging at the corners of his lips. He knew he had you hooked.

"Oh? And… who might’ve that been?" Your words faltered, your heart beginning to race as the realization set in, that you had unwittingly walked into his cunning little trap.

"Sebastian," he stated firmly, the pretense of an unruffled countenance still in place as he smoothly turned to the next page in his book.

"S— Sebastian, huh?" You gradually withdrew your hand from his thigh, fingers curling around the contours of your book as you anxiously flipped through several pages.

"Any thoughts on why he might have been up after curfew?" He nonchalantly twirled his wand between his fingers, deliberately taking his time as he keenly detects your composure slowly unraveling beside him.

"No— not at all. Why would I have any insight?” You brought your hand to your lips, your teeth nibbling nervously at your nails as your thoughts begin to race.

"Really, now?" He leaned back, drawing in a deep breath as he meticulously assessed the situation. "I had thought you two were rather… close. Mayhaps I judged wrong," he mused, his finger idly tracing the edges of his book, waiting for your next answer.

You cleared your throat, collecting your hair in your hands as you lifted it up off your neck and sweeping it aside to cool off.

“We should get back to studying, Ominis.” You mumbled quietly, adverting your attention back to your books.

A pit formed within his midriff, an uneasy sensation coursing through him as he discerned that you had just lied to him and casually brushed aside his inquiry. Lost in his thoughts, something had sparked his attention, a faint, distant sound emanating several tables away. His ears perked as he found himself inexplicably drawn into the poison of hushed whispers and muted laughter.

"Did you see that mark on her neck?"

"Gods, what is it?"

"Isn't it obvious? It's a hickey!"

"Merlin's Beard... who do you think it was?"

"I bet you 5 Galleons it was Sebastian Sallow."

"What— no way."

"You think she's been snogging Sallow?"

"By the looks of it, she's been doing more than just snogging." The subdued group of students snickered amongst themselves.

"And…. guess what I saw last night… I saw the two of them leaving the castle after curfew."

"What, really..? That's foul... and she has the audacity to put her hands all over Gaunt— are you going to report it to the Headmaster?"

“Not yet, I’m waiting for the perfect moment.”

“You sneaky little minx.”

“She deserves it. I can’t wait to see her crumble.”

"She should be ashamed of herself...”

"Isn't one enough? Leave the rest of them for us."

“She’s such a slut.”

A flush of crimson spread across Ominis' face as his anger surged like a rising tide within. His fists clenched together in a white-knuckled grip, his imagination running wild with scenarios from last night, each one more maddening than the last. Thoughts became an impenetrable fog, clouding his usually sharp mind. His jaw clenched as he slammed his book shut, the resounding thud echoing throughout the library. He stormed out, leaving behind a wake of turbulent emotions.

Ominis could hear his heart ringing in his ears. The whole world around him fading into a distant blur as he pushed himself through the crowded halls. His nails dig into the handle of his wand as anger, frustration, and jealousy envelopes him whole. The thought of you doing something so vile with his best friend tinged his heart. He felt as if the air was sucked right out of his lungs, his own emotions strangling him.

You sat there, bewildered by his sudden outburst. Trying to make sense of what just happened, you close your books in a hurry, leaving them behind as you quickly followed suit. Your eyes glued to the back of his pristine button-up as you chased after him, deftly slipping through the turbulent sea of students and nearly stumbling over an outstretched foot.

"Om— Ominis, wait…" your voice caught as you hastily found your footing, resolutely following his swift path into an unassuming classroom, leaving behind a clear path of confused faces.

As you enter the classroom, your eyes swept across the empty space, finding no trace of Ominis. You take a hesitant step back, perplexed. Suddenly, the wooden doors behind you click shut. You quickly pivot around to find Ominis standing there, blocking the only exit out.

“Ominis…” you muttered, standing there frozen and confused as an uneasiness settled within your midriff.

His eyes almost gleamed with a shade of green, as if a dormant darkness within him had awakened. A pure-blood Gaunt, a direct descendant of Salazar Slytherin, the snake with no eyes, now revealed itself. His once-hidden frustrations surged to the surface, directed towards you. His body burned with resentment, hands trembling at his sides.

"Tell me," he demanded, his voice low and tinged with a threatening edge, leaving no room for evasion or lies. "What were you doing with Sebastian last night?"

A sudden chill runs down your spine, as if he could actually see into your soul. You stagger back, your heart racing in response to his probing question.

"What do you mean..?" you stammered, desperately searching your mind for any little thing to grab at.

Your heart pounded in your chest, caught between the fear of angering him and the guilt of keeping the truth from him. You hesitated for a moment, feeling the weight of Ominis’ words pressing down on you, but you couldn't bring yourself to admit it, not yet. The room seemed to close in and crackle with tension, clashing with your desire to protect the truth.

"I— I was…" your words faltered as Ominis took an intimidating step forward. Your teeth sank into your bottom lip, struggling to find the right words. Your tongue felt heavy, surrendering yourself to complete silence.

Suddenly, he lunges forward, his fingers wrapping around your jaw, pivoting you around, and slamming you against the closed doors. His breath brushes against your lips as he leans in, his eyes effortlessly locked onto yours.

You winced, your eyes squeezing tight from the sudden force, his hold around your jaw softening as his fingers grazed down your neck.

"You were?" He asked, his voice baring a darkness you hadn’t seen before.

"I... I was just... studying," you muttered, attempting to maintain the facade, but the heat of his body pressed against yours and his possessive hold shattered your composure.

Your mind raced, torn between your desire to protect Sebastian and the overwhelming presence of Ominis. His demeanor was suffocating, hard to resist the urge to spill the truth, but you stubbornly clung to your feeble lie.

Every word you spoke, every lie you told, was like fuel to the fire. His fingers encircled around your throat, tightening with warning. "Tell me then, what's this?" he inquired, the pads of his fingers pressing into the tender, bruised skin below your jaw.

You yelped, your hand reaching for his wrist in a desperate attempt to relieve some of the pressure. He took your hand in his, pinning it against the wooden doors. With a low, frustrated growl, he eased his grip from around your throat, his fingers still remaining over the mark.

“Speak,” he said, as if you were some pet of his to command.

You gasped, finally able to breathe, your head spinning. "Ominis, what's happened to you?" you whispered, your voice colored with confusion.

He grew tired of waiting for an answer. His mind filling in all the details on its own. He pushes your jaw to the side with his thumb as he leans into the crook of your neck, his breath scraping against your skin. His soft lips brushed across your bruise, that same dark whisper filling his head with poisoned words.

“You like this?” He growled, his lips barely transgressing against your skin.

Your voice caught in your throat as Ominis' grip tightened, preventing you from speaking.

"Have something to say, do you?" Ominis’ voice dripped with irritation at your feeble attempt to speak.

An agonizing silence enveloped the room as you nervously shook your head in response.

"I didn’t think so." He sinks his teeth into your bruise, eliciting a pained wince from your lips. The warm caress of his tongue against your skin, paired with his piercing teeth digging into your neck sent an indescribable sensation pooling between your thighs. His hand snaked from your throat and down your waistline, gripping into your hip. A sharp gasp escaped your lips as his knee stopped you from squeezing your thighs together.

He had you within his grasp, a pretty little thing trembling against the doors. In this moment, you were unequivocally his, a possession to be claimed. The air felt thick and heavy. He relished in the power he held over you, knowing he could do anything to you. It was crystal clear: You were his to mark, not Sebastian’s, his. And he intended to make that known.

"You like being a little slut for me?" He drags his lips agonizingly slow against your skin, catching your breath.

Despite the fear and the turbulent emotions, an undeniable surge of desire coursed through you. Ominis' dominance had awakened a primal longing within you, and your response was unmistakable. Your breath hitched, and your body caved into your desire, your hips arching slightly against his knee.

Ominis was acutely aware of your response. A sly smirk curled his lips as he felt the subtle shift in your body, the way you arched against his knee, the way your arm fell limp within his grasp, and the subtle wavering within your breath. It was evident of the power he held over you.

Ominis couldn’t help but taunt you further, his voice dripping with possessiveness and a hint of cruelty. “You feel that?” he whispered, pressing his knee against your damp knickers.

Overcome by lust, you found yourself writhing in place, unable to contain the fiery yearning that coursed through your veins. Your heart hammered within your chest, a relentless rhythm of anticipation and longing, each beat echoing the insatiable need for more. Every inch of your skin felt like it was burning, burning for his touch.

Ominis, consumed by his desire, pushed your thighs apart with a dominating force, making it clear who was in control. He pressed his hips into you, his hunger evident in the way he held you against the doors. There was no denying the raw and burning need he felt for you in that moment.

“You like being fucked so hard there’s bruises all over your pretty little skin?” He growled through gritted teeth, his grip around your wrist constricting. The anger in his voice sent tremors through your body, leaving you almost afraid to utter a word. A barely audible gasp escaped your trembling lips.

He couldn't fathom how you could lose your self-control so easily under such circumstances. His mind seethed with jealousy and anger. Were you always this easy to rile up? Is this what you and Sebastian do when he’s not around? Is that what you want from him? Unable to contain his rage any longer, he lashed out, slamming his hands against the wooden doors, staggering backwards.

"Is this what you want? Isn't Sebastian enough for you? You think you can go around putting your pretty little hands on guys and expect us to fuck you? You're— you’re such a..." He growled, his voice a mixture of anger and hurt.

Ominis leaned back against an empty desk, running his fingers over his jaw, a look of shame crossing his face. Tears brimmed in his eyes as he attempted to collect himself, but the damage was done. He knew he had lost control and shattered any chance of friendship that remained between the two of you. With a heavy sigh, he buried his face in his trembling hand, overwhelmed by the strangling feeling he has in his heart.

You were left speechless, your heart aching at his distress. With cautious steps, you moved towards him, your hand finding purchase against his shoulder as your thumb brushed with a soothing comfort.

"Ominis…" you whispered softly, your voice wavering with concern and immense sadness. "Please, just talk to me… What's going on with you? Why did you say such hurtful things?"

You settled down next to him, your hand gently gliding down his back. "This… this isn't like you, Ominis..." You pressed your forehead against his shoulder, wrapping your arm around his waist, embracing him from behind.

The softness within your voice melted away all his defenses. Unable to contain his turmoil any longer, he began to unravel, pouring out the torment that had consumed him. His voice quivered. It sounded like he was on the brink crying. Your embrace around him tightened, unable to bear the sound of his shuddering voice.

"Please…" your voice trembled as you pleaded in him, the agonizing prick of tears welling within your eyes.

Ominis drew in a deep breath, attempting to regain some semblance of composure. Slowly, he lifted his head from his hand, his gaze, blankly fixed upon the floor.

"It was him, wasn't it?" His voice held a note of anguish, as if he didn’t want the truth at all.

"What was him?" You asked gently, lifting your head from his shoulder and resting your chin against its curve.

He took a few moments, taking in deep, shuddering breaths as he tried to come to terms with it himself. “That bruise along your neck… It was Sebastian.”

"What?" You furrowed your eyebrows, your fingers instinctively brushing across the mark that adorned itself just below your jaw. "This?" Confusion filled your voice as your mind raced with questions. “No— Sebastian never hurt me, why would you think that?”

He leans forward, elbows resting against his knees, his hands clenching in visible disarray. "Not hurt you…" he uttered with an evident struggle in his voice. His head turns toward you as you break from the one-sided embrace. Your eyes traced along his pained face, tears glossing over. You tenderly cupped his cheek, urging him to face you.

“Ominis…” you murmured softly. “What then?”

He slowly picked his arm up, his fingers gliding over your caress with gentleness, nuzzling his cheek into your hand. This warmth was what he so desperately needed. His gaze lowered with somberness, his other hand reaching out to hold yours within your lap.

He shifted towards you, his hand falling from his cheek, finding purchase against your thigh. He appeared hesitant, at a loss for words— his mind wrangling with itself to even speak.

"That mark," he started, his head still lowered. "It was from making love, wasn't it?"

You sat there, blinking for a moment, caught off guard by his accusation. Speechless, you almost let out a baffled laugh but quickly restrained it. "Making love?" you retorted, your hand lowering from his cheek as you wrapped your fingers around his nape, drawing him in closer.

You pressed your forehead against his, gazing into his soft ocean eyes. "Listen to me, Ominis… There’s nothing going on between me and Sebastian,” you hushed, your voice filled with sincerity.

He pulls away with furrowed brows, disbelief etched across his face. You clasped your hands around his, pulling him back in. "Ominis, please… This bruise here, it was from an encounter with goblins. Sebastian and I… we snuck out of the castle last night. We wanted to have a little fun, go for a midnight adventure,” you paused briefly, a heavy sigh filling the air. “But I… I got into a little trouble. I messed up my footing and a goblin attacked me. I was exhausted. Sebastian had to carry me back to the castle… I’m so sorry, Ominis. I should’ve been honest with you… I had no idea how much this pained you."

He felt ashamed, he felt hopeless, and he felt so, so indescribably ignorant. The weight of his emotions hung heavy within the air.

“I promise you, there’s no other man out there that has my heart,” you continued softly, your words piquing his interest. Ominis slowly lifted his chin as his gaze fell upon you.

Your lips curled into a sweet smile, brushing your thumb in soothing circles over his hands. “No one else, but you.”

His lashes faltered, and that very pit within his stomach had completely vanished. He felt all the heaviness within him lifted, the venomous whispers within his head— gone, replaced by a sense of clarity and peace."No one else?" He asked softly, his voice broken.

“Ominis, I love you… I love you so much that it pains me. It pains me to see you like this. I fell in love with that very sweetness you hold so deep within your heart. You’re someone special to me…” you wavered, the weight of your confession hanging in the air, your heart pounding within your chest as the gravity of your words settled between you both like a weightless plume.

He gently withdraws his hand from your grasp, his fingers tenderly tracing along your jaw as he clasped his hand just below your ear. His soft touch sent a shiver down your spine as he tilts your head back, his thumb brushing against your cheek, pressing his longing lips against yours.

Your eyes fluttered shut, savoring the sweet taste of his affection, your lips molding together in a tender, passionate kiss. In that moment, the world around you faded into insignificance. Everything that had just transpired, gone. All that remains now is the unyielding confession of love. The kiss lingered until he finally pulled away, his lips hovering just an inch from yours.

His warm breath caressed your lower lip as he spoke in an unwavering, gentle, and remorseful tone. "I've loved you from the moment I met you, more deeply than I could ever express. I've tried to hide it, to bury it, but it's always been there… burning within me. You mean more to me than words can convey, and I can't imagine my life without you."

Ominis’ voice quivered with emotion, "I love you with everything I am, and I always will, no matter what. I love you, all that you are, my dear little bird. I’m so… so so—"

You cut him off before he sank back into his darkness, your lips locking together in a fervent embrace. His brows furrowed as his lips followed suit, firmly. The kiss deepened, a passionate, unending surge of emotion that left you both breathless. In that moment, it felt like everything had finally fallen into place, and your hearts were bound together as one.

You wanted to reassure him, to make him understand that he had nothing to worry about. Your heart belonged to him and him alone. You hooked your leg over Ominis’ hip, gently lowering yourself into his lap. He wrapped his hand around your waist with a tender embrace.

With a shared urgency, you captured his bottom lip between your teeth, eliciting soft sigh past his lips. In the midst of your heated kisses, soft whispers of, “I love you,” flowed freely between you both. It was as if those three words had become a cherished refrain, a reminder of your unwavering love for each other, and neither of you could get enough of it.

Your kisses became a sweet storm. Peppering his lips as your hands cradled his jaw, your hips moving in a rhythm of their own, swaying with the desire that coursed through your veins.

A burning sensation snapped you back to reality, a tantalizing stiffness pressing against your knickers, awakening you from the flames. You were acutely aware of the desire that had burned between you.

Unable to resist, you both tumbled against the desk, your lips still locked in a fiery embrace. The kisses turned heated, sloppy, and wet as you explored eachothers cavity with unbridled hunger. His grip around your hip tightened, pressing you firmly against his arousal, a quiet moan of pleasure escaped your lips. Desire pooled between your thighs, wetting his trousers from the friction.

With a final, lingering kiss, you gradually poised yourself up, straddling him with your hands pressed against his chest. Your cheeks flushed with a rosy hue, but something about his presence made you feel safe and unashamed. The embarrassment you anticipated seemed to melt away in his soft, gentle touch.

A sweet, contented smile graced your lips as you began to roll your hips, a gentle grind that pressed your soaked knickers against his clothed arousal, eliciting a soft, quiet hum from Ominis’ lips.

He tilted his head back with a warm moan, the sharp contour of his jaw capturing your attention. You reached for his hands, delicately intertwining your fingers with his, guiding his touch as you circled your hips. A quiet sigh of pleasure escaped your lips, filling the thick air around you.

Ominis’ lips parted, eliciting an unrestrained moan as his cock twitches beneath you. He lost full control over his hips, incapable to stop them from moving in rhythm with yours. This was everything he had ever yearned for— your sweet hands in his, the soft, quiet moans that slipped past your lips, the constant whispers of affirmation. Yet, amidst this symphony of pleasure, there was one thing he longed to hear… the sweet sound of you moaning his name.

Feeling your hands withdraw from their loving embrace and hearing the subtle rustling of fabric above him, Ominis reached out, gently clasping your hands in his once again.

"Allow me," he whispered in a tender tone, his desire to adore you evident in his gentle pale eyes.

Your hands slowly dropped as he began to unbutton your blouse with a tantalizing slowness, savoring every moment so he could etch this memory into eternity. His fingers brushed across your shoulders, unable to resist the urge to whisper with admiration, "So soft..." He slid your blouse over your shoulders, allowing it to pool around your elbows. Your fingers curled under the rim of his trousers, eagerly reciprocating the desire.

Ominis, however, wasn't met with the expected sensation of a bra strap along your shoulders. Instead, he found himself intrigued, his fingers tracing down your collarbone until they reached the supple, sensitive flesh at the curve of your breast. His feather-light touch sent a cascade of goosebumps dancing across your skin, eliciting a subtle sigh of approval from your parted lips. His large hands then enveloped your breast, gently squeezing and kneading without hesitation.

Your eyes locked onto his almost devious grin. You unhooked your fingers from under his trousers and smoothly shimmied the rest of your blouse off, your gaze then moving toward his buttoned shirt, relinquishing it’s hold. You pushed open the flaps of his shirt, your eyes feasting on the sight of his well-formed figure. Your teeth sank into your bottom lip as your fingers trailed down his chest, tracing the dots that adorned his pale flesh in a playful zigzag pattern until they reached his hip. He was truly a vision of beauty, and in this moment, you couldn't fathom how he could doubt your desire for him over anyone else, even Sebastian.

"Ominis… I want you," you whispered, the words dripping with desire.

"Then take me," he dared, his expression sweet and inviting, in stark contrast to everything below.

Your cheeks blazed with a deep, rosy hue as you bit into your cheek, his words leaving you breathless with desire. With a sultry grace, you lifted yourself onto your knees, your hands working deftly to tug down his trousers and briefs just enough to reveal his hard, throbbing cock. It was much larger than you had imagined when you were grinding against him, and the sight left you speechless. Even his length was adorned with a scattering of freckles.

His hands, warm and tender, snaked up your thighs, just under your skirt, cradling them with a gentle hold. He showed incredible patience, letting you take your time and go at your own pace. You reached below you, your fingers curling around the soaked fabric that clung to your heated flesh. Pulling them aside, you wrapped your fingers around his base, slowly lowering yourself onto him.

The pink crown of his arousal glistened with pre-cum, slipping between your slick folds as you guided him into your eager core. His length squeezed into you inch by inch, eliciting a joined shudder. Ominis tightened his grip around your thighs as he felt your cunt slowly enveloping his length, drawing him deeper inside you. A hushed wince escaped your lips as he pushed you firmly against his hips.

A low, guttural curse slipped from Ominis’ tongue, the agonizing sensation of your tight cunt gripping around his cock with raw hunger.

With slow, deliberate movements, you took control, lifting your hips and sensually lowering yourself onto him, savoring every inch of his throbbing desire as it filled you completely. Finding a rhythm that sent waves of pleasure coursing through your bodies. Ominis' hands ventured further under your skirt, his fingers clasping possessively around your hips, pressing deeply into your skin as you surrendered yourself to the veil of desire.

The sensation of his pulsating cock reaching deep within you, hitting the depths of your cunt and clenching around his cock in a strangling hold. It was everything he had ever fantasized about. The tantalizing stride and rolls of your hips, the softness and warmth of your skin touching his. The labored breaths and sweet moans he elicited out of you, it felt so fucking good.

The way you rolled your hips and took his cock like it was meant for you. How your body trembled every time he hit that sensitive spot. The desperate moans escaping your lips as he started to force your movements quicker by your hips. It drove him mad, mad for you. He craved more, wanting to hear those pretty little lips of yours gasp and scream his name, and he knew exactly how to make that happen.

With a firm grip around your hips, he easily maneuvered, rolling you onto your back and positioning himself over you. With one hand supporting his weight, his other guided the underside of your thigh until it was pressed against your side.

"Ominis, wai—"

He silenced your protests with a deep, penetrating thrust that sent a loud moan spilling from your lips. His nails dug into the soft flesh of your thigh as a sly grin curled at the corners of his lips. Your slick cunt tightened around his cock as he continued with long, measured strides in and out of your slick heat, drawing a soft yelp from the depths of your throat. Your hand clutched around his forearm, anchoring yourself as he quickened his pace.

"Ah, fuck..." you winced, furrowing your brows in pleasure as he drove into you relentlessly.

A deep, guttural groan reverberated within his throat as he reveled in the tightness of your cunt. He shifted his hand from your thigh to support his weight against the desk, looming over you with a demeanor that made you feel small and trapped beneath his towering figure.

He may be blind, but Ominis was attuned to your every desire, intimately aware of what turned you on. A sly grin danced along his lips as he continued his relentless thrusts, each one hitting that sweet spot that drove you mad.

He swooped down, burying his face into the crook of your neck as his labored breaths crashed against your skin. The sweet sound of your whimpers riled something familiar within him. "You like that?" he growled against your neck.

You gasped, your nails digging into his forearm as your body shuddered from his words. A subtle sneer lathered your tender neck with hungry kisses and soft bites.

His lips trailed sensuously along your neck, planting soft, teasing kisses against your earlobe. “I know you like this,” he grunted, his hips driving into you with hard, measured thrusts that left you gasping with desperate approval. The needy whines that escaped your lips were all the affirmation he needed. His tongue traced the contours of your ear, soft nips and low growls that sent shivers down your spine.

"Oh fuck, Ominis..." you pleaded, gasping for air as he relentlessly pounded into you.

“You’re so tight…” he snarled, his voice thick with desire, peppering your ear and neck with a trail of hungry kisses and licks. His pace slowed into long, tantalizing strides, all the while bearing knowing smile.

"Ominis, please..." you whimpered softly, your nails digging further into his skin.

"Please, what?" His voice shuddered, sinking his teeth into your neck as he maintained his steady pace.

"Oh, fuck… please—"

He hummed against your skin, seemingly oblivious to your intent, relishing in the sweet desperation of your trembling voice.

"Please… fuck me harder," you exasperated, writhing beneath him.

He gripped your hip in place, preventing your movements as he continued with his slow, ruthless strides.

"What’s my name," he demanded, his voice a heated whisper against your ear.

You panted heavily, your thighs trembling at his hips, your voice a sultry plea, “Fuck me harder, Ominis…” Before you could finish the rest of his name, he slammed his hips into you with a hungry growl against your ear. You bucked your hips with an arch of your back, eliciting a yelp that echoed within the halls of the castle.

“Good girl,” he whispered, sending an intoxicating blaze of fire coursing through your body. With every forceful thrust, a torrent of pleasure surged within you, an unrelenting tempest that threatened to consume your very being. A knot of insatiable desire coiled deep within your midriff, pulling tighter with each invasion of his hips.

Sweat glistened across your entwined bodies, his movements a fevered dance of untamed lust and longing. Your nails etched fiery trails along Ominis’ back, branding him with your passion. The pain that etched along his back soon became pleasure as he lost full control of himself. The classroom echoed with a crescendo of fervent gasps and uninhibited moans.

As he surrendered to his primal desires, his voice became a sultry serenade, a soft trail of parseltongue with unbridled lust slipping from his lips like a seductive spell. He teetered on the precipice of release, the moment of climax drawing tantalizingly near with each scorching thrust.

His head hangs low, driven by an insatiable need as he plunges deep into you, his hips etching a delicious soreness into your supple flesh. Your thighs trembled against his hips, helpless to resist the throbbing sensation as he fills your needy little cunt to the brim, spewing threads of his warm, sticky desire that claimed you as his.

Exasperated curses punctuated the air, escaping your lips as your body contracts beneath his rigid thrusts. Your back arches with a deep curve, your hips locked in a drunken lust as he fills you to the rim. Ominis hovers above you, his chest heaving as he struggles to catch his breath, his thoughts lost in the intoxicating haze of euphoria.

A heated warmth seeps from your defiled cunt, dribbling sensuously against the smooth wooden desk beneath you. Ominis, with a heavy and contented sigh, begins to slowly withdraw, his cock sliding out with a wet, suctioning noise that lingers in the air.

You gaze at him through half-lidded lashes, your face carrying the unmistakable weight of exhaustion, each breath labored with fire. Ominis' well-satisfied cock twitches, strings of cum dripping from his tip.

With an almost inconceivable smirk, Ominis runs his fingers through his tousled hair, his freckled cheeks flushed from exertion. “You’re mine, you know that?” He said softly, delicate beads of sweat tracing along the contours of his midriff, a captivating sight only for you to see.

You nodded obediently, with a soft, weary sigh, “I’m yours.”

He left you utterly spent, your body feeling heavy against the wooden desk. Your legs remained parted, trembling from the aftermath, as you struggled to catch your breath, your mind remained shrouded in a tantalizing fog of lingering lust.

“Ominis…” your voice wavered, still carrying the heat of the fervent moment.

A mischievous chuckle escaped his lips as he gazed at you with desire-fueled hunger. “Round two?” His suggestion hung in the air, a tempting invitation to plunge back into the depths of pleasure once more.