#Or honestly send some hate my way if you feel like it - I could use the attention tbh
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seungfl0wer · 2 days ago
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*Daddy Chan*
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Daddy Series:
Bangchan | Minho | Changbin | Hyunjin | Han | Felix | Seungmin | Jeongin
Contains Smut:
A/N: I could have kept going with this and yes it’s already long. But like- Chans the definition of this series ok? 😂
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-💜
•He’s just in his element.
•If any of them have a daddy thing it’s 100% him.
•He treats you like a princess.
•Spoils the fuck out of you.
•Gets grumpy when you try and pay for anything because how dare you.
•He’s such a gentleman.
•You’ll never have to open your own doors.
•He enjoys taking long showers together and after
•He loves having you sit infront of him brushing your hair for you.
•Matching outfits, matching jewelry.
•He’s so easy to talk to too.
•If you’re having a bad day, you know you can just curl up with him and cry.
•He’s great at consoling you when anything happens.
•Holding you tightly to him as he reminds you about how amazing you are.
•He’s super clingy honestly.
•If you’re with him he’s always gotta be touching you in some way.
•Hand holding, Legs touching. Something.
•You keep him more grounded than you probably know.
•He finds almost anything you do super cute.
•Oh this man just gets all cheesy when you’re pouting. Finds it so fucking cute.
•Definitely doesn’t have a whole folder of songs for your birthday or anniversary.
•You’re literally like a fire to him and he’s the moth.
•It’s really hard to ever really really upset him.
•He’s pretty level headed.
•Most days if you’re being grumpy or cranky he’ll sit with you asking what’s the matter and how he can help.
•If you’re giving him attitude almost always he can make you stop with just that look.
•He has the habit of telling you way to sweetly “fix your attitude princess or I’ll have to fix it for you. Be good for daddy”
•He’s really to soft, but when he needs to be stern he does it in a way that still makes you feel so safe.
•He’s really just a safe space. You’ll never feel like your emotions are too much with him.
•He constantly will reassure you.
•He sends you such loving messages too, long paragraphs of why he loves you.
•Never not having a good morning or good night text. Even if you just got off the phone.
•It feels like taboo to him not too.
•He’s not a super jealous type, but he’s protective.
•He knows you love him so much, your eyes never leaving his.
•But how can he trust others when you’re just so cute.
•He’ll hover over you when you’re out sometimes. Like he’s waiting. Ready to attack anyone who dares upset him princess.
•Constantly hugs yous tightly burring himself into you saying “mine” cutely.
•He’s really just wrapped around your finger and he’s fine with that.
ੈ♡˳Smut Below
•He has almost 2 personality’s.
•The super sweet loving one where he wants to take it so slow.
•He’ll eat you out for hours making sure you cum before you even fuck.
•He talks so much. He talks you through it 100%.
•He makes just as much noises as you do tbh.
•He’s a missionary lover for sure.
•Always wanting to see your pretty face. Plus how else is he gonna kiss you?
•He’s just so sensual and passionate.
•Other times he- can just lose himself.
•Stressful day? He’s having you on your knees while he face fucks you.
•He’s definitely into free use with you especially waking you up with head or his dick just slowly pushing into you.
•All with complete consent. He’ll never do anything without asking you prier and establishing boundaries.
•Has a safe word and does the color system.
•He can get ahead of himself sometimes. Losing it with you.
•Pushing your face into the bed fucking you like he hates you.
•Those beautiful hands of his leaving bright red hand prints on your ass.
•Or wrapped around your neck like a choker. He also really enjoys having you suck his fingers.
•Breeding kink. Breeding kink. Breeding kink.
•He’s also somehow so good at degrading you while making it sound so- sweet?
•”My dirty little princess, you’re soaked just from kissing?”
•He has one of those machines that can fuck you while he’s not home. And of course a custom made dildo that is a mold of his cock.
•Loves FaceTiming you while on tour guiding you through your orgasm.
•Always teases you and doesn’t let you cum at first. Not until you’re begging well enough.
•This man is also team remote vibe.
•He just thinks it’s so damn adorable watching you squirm while you’re out.
•He’s not much better though. He can’t keep his hands to himself.
•Could be having dinner out and he’s gonna be knuckles deep into your sopping hole till he can’t handle it.
•100%. Fucks you infront of mirrors. Not only so you can watch how well he fucks you.
•But so he can tell you things like “look how beautiful you are when you’re cumming around my cock”
•Like I said he’s definitely a talker so something’s he says are:
•”Daddy’s gonna fill you so full princess. I’m gonna fuck you till I know you’re pregnant.”
•”Don’t you run from me, I’m not done with you yet”
•”God it’s like you were made to take my cock princess.”
•”Daddy loves you, love you so fucking much.”
•And one of his favorites “you say you can’t take it anymore but you’re pretty hole is telling me she wants more”
•King of aftercare.
•On days he goes a little harder he’s making sure you know he loves you.
•He has you wrapped in his arms while he talks to you.
•Likes to sing to you to calm you down from intense orgasms.
•Warm baths with candles, and snacks.
•Kinda like Minho he puts one of his hoodies in the dryer for you.
•Making sure it smells like him before he wraps you in the warmth.
•You’re basically trapped for a while because he just wants to hold you.
•He really loves you and he wants to make sure you always know that.
﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌
💙 If you’d like to read more of my stuff you can find it Here: Master List . Thank you for reading and if requests are open or you just wanna talk feel free to send me something🩵
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Taglist: @satosugu4l @do-you-remember-summer-127 @xines16 @minh0scat @troublemaker02 @tr-mha-fan @lunearta @velvetmoonlght @minghaosimp @ldysmfrst @felixleftchickennugget @0omillo0 @jellymochii @stilltrynafuckingtumble @catlove83 @delulkpopstan143 @hyunjins-orange-slice-too
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whysamwhy123 · 1 year ago
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Face and Heat!
Thank you, Katy!! Answers after the cut...and uh oh, one of them contains some very unpopular opinions, please don't chase me out of the fandom with torches and pitchforks...
Face ~ Your favorite and/or least favorite good guy/girl wrestler?
To counterbalance the spicy-ness of my next answer, I'll go with my favourites instead of my least favourites - from the guys, I'm gonna go with Orange Cassidy! He was one of the wrestlers that got me back into wrestling after so long because he was just so funny and that match with Pac at Revolution is straight up one of my favourites matches of all time, plus his whole International title reign was some of the most fun I've had watching wrestling the past few months. And for the women, I'm gonna go with Hikaru Shida because she fucking rules and she does not get anything close to the respect she deserves - she gives every person she wrestles the best match of their career, always gets huge reactions from the crowd even when her booking is terrible, and she's just such a badass, I adore her! And if TK thinks I'm gonna cheer for Britt over her, he's got another thing comin'.
Heat ~ The worst fan reaction(s) you’ve seen? -OR- Share your unpopular/controversial opinion(s)?
Hoooo boy. I considered trying to do the first one here but...I sure do have some unpopular controversial opinions rattling around in my brain so...it's my funeral!
I think Christian Cage's current schtick kinda sucks, whoops 😬 Most of his promos are soooo painfully generic Heel 101 (insulting the local sports team, I-fucked-your-mom jokes, low-hanging fruit kind of stuff that's been done a thousand times before and I'm sick of tbh) and even the dead dad stuff is just repetitive and lacking creativity at this point - it's more of a meme than an actual heat source (and that's been done before too, he ain't the first wrestler to make dead dad jokes!). Plus, I think the whole TNT champ thing only serves to make that belt look even less important and more like a complete joke? Because the guy who actually won it is apparently AOK fine with some other dude carrying it and calling himself the champion, because the title means that little, I guess? Imagine MJF letting, I don't know, Smart Mark Sterling, carry around the world title and call himself the champ and acting like that's fine and dandy, who cares? Not to mention that this is, like, the fifth time that the actual TNT champ has been completely overshadowed by some other older dude who's managing them? Really weird booking tendency there. Annnnnnd I think the only reason people like him and think this storyline is good is because they're just outrageously horny for him, which I don't judge or anything but still...come on, folks, call a spade a spade.
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fushitoru · 2 months ago
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chapter 6: the house party a bridgerton au
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pairing ⸺ duke!satoru gojo x fem!reader
summary ⸺ dearest gentle reader, a new season is upon us as the ton gets ready for a season filled with drama, heartbreak, and passion. after being crowned diamond of the season, duke gojo⸺only looking to marry just to secure his inheritance⸺has his sights set on you, the easiest (and most obvious) option. later, when you catch his saying unsavory things about you on a terrace when he least suspected it, you swear to never marry gojo. as london's fashionable set goes through yet another wedding season, will there be hope for scandalous gossip, hate, and thinly veiled insults, or will we witness blooming love and passion?
warnings ⸺ nsfw, enemies to lovers, bridgerton au, angst, fluff, SUGGESTIVE, eventual smut, jealousy, misogyny, description of injury, concussion, blood, regency era au, gojo being infuriating, reader also being infuriating, both of them are clueless honestly
chapter summary ⸺ you are bedridden, recovering from your wound, when gojo delivers season-changing news. the house party that follows buzzes with tension, and an unexpected arrival that sends ripples through the ton (7.4k)
a/n thank you as always to the pooks @/sinn-clair for beta reading this <333 i'll see you after the chapter is over!
prev. the fall | next. the rebound
general masterlist | series masterlist
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Gentle Reader,
One query occupies this Author's mind, be it ladies or mamas alike—what exactly are Miss Itadori and Lord Gojo up to in the countryside? Perhaps a trifling dalliance of hearts, or will the ton bear witness to a scandal uncovered when they arrive for the house party? After having arrived a week early—and positioned as the diamond of the season—one must guess that if all goes well and Miss Itadori plays her cards right, she will be showing off her new surely lavish diamond engagement ring. Yet, she must take great care, for to err in this delicate matter would be to jeopardize a most significant match with Lord Gojo. Only time shall tell the outcome of this intrigue.
⸻ LADY WHISTLEDOWN’S SOCIETY PAPERS
Upon waking, the physician informed you that you had been unconscious for some days. Though no immediate danger threatened you, it had been long enough to send both families into a state of great disquiet. It seemed that even before you’d regained full awareness, a servant—who had gasped upon hearing your feeble request for water—had swiftly spread the news, for not a moment later Yuji burst into the room.
“SISTER!” he exclaims, hurtling his way towards you with heavy steps. You flinch in your position on the bed at the sound of his loud voice. “You are awake! Mama seemed like she would faint, Choso had almost popped a bloody vein, he looked like he was about to challenge Lord Gojo to a duel—”
“Yuji! My dear,” you had to shout, interrupting the boy’s ramblings, giving him an uneasy smile. “Lower your volume, please. I might faint back into unconsciousness due to the strain, and this time you will be the one dueling Choso.”
The pout Yuji adopts is akin to a chastened hound as he grabs a chair to sit next to you. You take this moment to surveil your surroundings, now with a clear headedness granted to you that hadn’t been granted before. There were fresh flowers adorning a vase on the table on your bedside, and you seemed to be wearing a shift, cleaned and changed out of your dirty and mud-ridden dress. There was a gauze surrounding your head, and you could feel some similar cloth on your ankle.
You turned to your brother. “Now then, what were you saying?”
He perks up. “Well, you’ve been in quite a state, dear sister! It’s not every day you’re injured before breaking fast. Choso practically spat his tea when he heard! And, of course, Duchess Gojo has been endlessly apologetic. Between Mama, Choso, and me, we’ve all been in quite a state. I daresay you’re hardly known for clumsiness—although you do have your moments on horseback.” At the memories seemingly pooling themselves in his mind, Yuji sniggers while you shoot him a look to not be testy. “And Gojo has been nothing short of attentive. No doubt the man’s come in to change your flowers more than the doctor’s visited you. He’s so caring, he even cares for a worm like you!” 
You ignore Yuji’s jab, instead forcing yourself not to be gripped by the fact that Gojo had been so…attentive to you. Of course, it was as an indirect result of his sheer vexing nature that you were bedridden in such a manner, so it should not set your heart aflutter like a foolish girl. But your traitorous heart seems to hate listening to reason. 
You begin to nod slowly. “And how many days have I been out? When is the house party?” Taking a gander at the windows in the room you were situated in, you could see the moon and star’s light filtering the curtains. You weren’t sure if it was the evening or night or completely early in the morning.
He looks up to the ceiling, as if calculating something, brows furrowed. “Today.”
Groaning, you put your head in your hands, playing with your hair as it falls through the gaps of your fingers. “Mother is going to kill me.”
“Oh, indeed,” Yuji replied with a hum, stretching his arms in a cat-like yawn. “Now, I must get back to my rest. The servants were gossiping near my door, so I thought I’d see for myself that you weren’t dead.” He kissed you on the cheek before heading to the door. “Sleep, sister, for I expect Mama will tire you endlessly come morning.”
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Later, a gentle nudge at your arm and a few soft “Miss! Wake up!”’s roused you from sleep. You opened your eyes to find a maid hunched over you, relief clear in her expression as you met her gaze with a drowsy squint. “Miss, Lord Gojo requests your presence. May I allow him in?”
With a nod, you fought off your annoyance at having been disturbed. The maid, visibly flustered, hurried to admit Gojo, who soon approached with quiet footsteps. As you propped yourself up, arms crossed, you gave him a mildly reproachful look. “Gojo, you’ve roused me from my slumber. I trust this is a matter of utmost importance—-” you began, then trailed off as you took in his expression.
He was taut, as though his very sinews were wound tight. Standing rigidly, his jaw clenched, his gaze flitted everywhere but to you. Troubled, you tried, “Gojo?”
At the sound of his name, he looked sharply at you and seemed to gather himself. “Ah… forgive me.” He took a seat and smiled, though it didn’t reach his eyes, artificial. “How is your recovery?” You eye him suspiciously. His leg is moving up and down anxiously, the action minute in a way that makes you think he’s not aware of doing it. The tight and strained smile on his face seems uncanny, his concern seeming out of place. “Well, as much as it can be for me bleeding out pints and pints of blood from my head,” at that, you note that he subtly flinches, “but all is well!” You spread out your arms and give him a dazzling smile, and his eyes follow. “I’m sure my mama and my maid are itching to rush in here to prepare me for the house party.” Giving him a playful glare, you continue, “And just for the pain you caused me, you ought to have two dances and a few pastries prepared tonight.”
At that, he looks at you for a quick glance before quickly turning away, seemingly collecting himself. In what you could observe in his previous expression, you were surprised to see yearning present in his blue eyes, filled with feelings that perplexed you. Gojo was acting very odd.
Then, he drew in a measured breath, his jaw clenched as if bracing himself for what he was about to say. He finally looked at you, a shadowed intensity in his gaze that made your heart beat faster—not in the way it used to when his eyes sparked with wit, but with a sense of foreboding.
"Miss Itadori," he began, his voice lower, lacking the familiar, teasing cadence. "I must apologize for the trouble I have brought upon you. I was… heedless, perhaps even reckless, and it seems I have caused you nothing but suffering."
You frowned, confusion beginning to bubble beneath the surface as he paused, clearly struggling to continue. He seemed almost pitiable, looking down at his hands, which were tightly woven together, his knuckles pale. But pity was not a feeling you had patience for. Not now. Not with Gojo of all people.
"Trouble?" you repeated, folding your arms. "I do believe that's an understatement, my lord. A mere misstep, surely?"
His eyes flicked back to yours, the corner of his mouth tugging in a grim semblance of a smile. "Understatement or not, it remains the truth," he replied, his voice nearly a murmur. "I cannot in good conscience continue this… attachment we have formed. The position of courtship our mamas have placed us in. For I fear it is you who stands to lose most dearly if I remain by your side."
You stiffened, his words crashing over you like a cold wave. "Attachment?" you said, bitterness coloring the word. "Do not dress it up with such kind words, Lord Gojo. An attachment is something formed with care, with respect—qualities you seem to find inconvenient."
He winced but did not break eye contact. "I will not argue with you," he said softly, voice steady in its regret. "Perhaps I am no master of attachments, nor have I ever claimed to be. But know that I had never wished to see you harmed—"
"Harmed?" you interrupted, your voice growing louder as anger swelled within you. "Is this some twisted apology, then? A show of remorse for the inconvenience of your whims?"
Gojo opened his mouth to respond, but you did not allow him the chance.
"How very noble of you, Lord Gojo," you continued, your voice dripping with sarcasm. "After all this time, to simply say, 'Forgive me; I shall now remove myself from your life,' as if that makes up for the chaos you’ve brought upon me? As if I am but a pawn to be moved at your discretion?"
His face softened slightly, as if he were seeing something in you he hadn't fully expected—a quiet resolve beneath your anger, a dignity that refused to be bruised. "No, Miss Itadori," he said quietly. "I do not wish to see you as a pawn. After all, from what I understand is that you do not know what you desire—and I would only be exploiting that. I only… I only wish to relieve you of the burdens I seem to bring."
You laughed, the sound bitter and laced with fury. "Know what I want? As if you do, dropping pretenses with commoners and putting on your mask for the ton. And relieve me? I don’t think you understand what it is you’ve done, Gojo."
This conversation was dangerous. The emotions you hid under the air of nonchalance were steadily bubbling up, and it seemed that now, your sentiments were threatening to boil over at the sheer audacity of Gojo breaking off this arrangement, of what the ton would think today if he were to be avoiding you like the plague.
He flinched at the sound of his name on your lips, spoken with such venom. A muscle in his jaw ticked, but he made no move to respond, simply watched as you gathered your thoughts, your gaze piercing.
"All this time," you said, each word sharper than the last, "I was led to believe there was something more to your attentions. And now, you simply wash your hands of it? You think yourself a gentleman for doing so?"
"Miss Itadori," he said, his voice strained. "I am—"
"You are a coward," you spat, and his eyes widened, the faintest hint of pain flashing in their depths. "Yes, that’s right. A coward, for trying to protect yourself under the guise of protecting me. All this talk of 'relieving me'—do not act as if your decision was made out of kindness." (a/n: OH NO SHE DIDNTTTTT)
"Do you not understand?" he interjected, a sudden fierceness in his voice, his composure beginning to slip. "This is not some petty whim, nor a game. My intentions… they were never meant to bring you harm, but they did. And I cannot bear to see it continue."
"Bear to see it continue?" you repeated incredulously. "Do you think I am some doll, some trifle to discard at your convenience?"
"That was never my intent!" he exclaimed, voice rising in frustration. "If you would but see reason—"
"Reason? From you?" you laughed bitterly, barely able to contain the fury welling up inside you. "Your idea of reason is nothing more than self-preservation, Lord Gojo. How convenient it must be to absolve yourself of guilt by deciding I am better off without you."
He fell silent, the anger in his face ebbing, replaced by a kind of desperation. "You do not understand," he said, quieter, almost pleading. "If I were to stay… if I were to court you in earnest, it would not be the life you think it to be."
"Then let that be my choice to make," you shot back, crossing your arms. "But no—this is not about my well-being, not truly. It is about you, Gojo. It has always been about you."
A tense silence stretched between you, filled only by the soft, uneven breaths that escaped both of you. For a moment, neither dared to speak, both caught in the tangled emotions that hung thick in the air.
Finally, Gojo looked down, his eyes shuttered, his voice weary. "Then hate me, if you must. But I am done with this charade."
"Hate you?" you repeated, the word tasting strange on your tongue. "No, Lord Gojo. Hatred would imply I care enough to feel anything toward you."
Your entire body seethed with fury, every muscle trembling with the strain of keeping yourself upright, sitting on your bed. You couldn't storm out—not with your wounded leg refusing to bear even a fraction of the anger swelling within you. Instead, you pushed yourself up on shaking arms, glaring at him with such venom that he instinctively stepped back.
"Get out," you spat, the words laced with ice, your voice rising as if to fill the entire room. "Out! Now, Gojo—leave me this instant!"
He froze, his shoulders tense as he looked at you with something unreadable, but he made no move toward the door.
"I said leave!" you shrieked—your voice shrill—the strain of it making you nearly lose balance, but you didn't care. Hot tears stung your eyes, and you bit them back, forcing yourself to breathe through the betrayal clawing at your chest. "Take your false apologies, your noble pretensions, and get out of my sight. Go, and never, ever darken my door again."
His mouth opened, as if he might say something—perhaps even something that might soothe the jagged edges of your heart. But your furious gaze dared him to try.
With a pained expression, he finally gave a nod, stepping back toward the door. He lingered for a moment, one last helpless look crossing his face before he turned away, leaving without another word.
The door clicked shut, and you were left alone, shaking with fury, your breath ragged. Your eyes were still on that door, your heart racing, as though expecting him to come back, to take it all back, to be the man you'd witnessed yesterday. But deep down, you knew he would not return.
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The first glimmers of morning filtered through the heavy drapes as you stirred awake, still dazed from the events that had left you bedridden. The memories of Gojo’s departure settled heavily on your chest, like a stone dropped in a lake, rippling outward and disturbing any possibility of calm. Your mind drifted over the previous night’s argument, replaying words, and then, with a cringe, the heated moments where you felt every last ounce of self-restraint slip from your grasp.
A small part of you reasoned that you may have been rash—that your anger and hurt had overtaken good sense. After all, it was you who deemed your and Gojo’s match impossible. So why were you so hurt?
Before you could linger on these thoughts, there was a soft knock at your door. 
"Come in," you murmured, propping yourself up gingerly.
What followed soft footsteps was Choso, his gaze warm and steady as he entered, carrying the ease of familiarity that only he could. As he approached, he pulled a chair beside your bed and gave a faint smile.
Choso stepped in quietly, his face softened by a rare smile as he approached. “Awake at last,” he said gently, taking a seat beside you with the care one might afford a delicate flower. "I was beginning to think you'd sleep through the entire house party."
He reached out, his hand resting on the crown of your head, fingers slipping through your hair in a soothing rhythm. The fondness in his touch eased the last of the stiffness in your frame, a balm against the soreness both physical and emotional.
“You worry too much,” you muttered, allowing yourself to lean into the comfort he offered, your voice softening as his hand continued to gently scratch at your scalp.
“You look better today,” he said softly, continuing his familiar, soothing rhythm with his fingers. “Though, I’ll admit, you gave us all quite a scare.”
You managed a small smile, feeling the tension in your shoulders ease slightly under his touch. “I suppose I was overdue for a bit of excitement,” you murmured, though the attempt at levity felt thin, even to your own ears.
Choso’s hand stilled momentarily, and his gaze grew searching as he looked at you. “What truly happened yesterday?” he asked, his voice low with concern. “There’s more here than an unfortunate fall, isn’t there?”
You stiffened slightly, glancing away from him. “It was nothing,” you replied, willing your tone to sound convincing. “Just… an ill-timed accident. Nothing to concern yourself with.”
But Choso was not so easily deterred. He watched you closely, his brow furrowing with worry. “You’ve always been a poor liar, sister,” he murmured. “If something happened, you know you can tell me. I only want to understand.”
The quiet earnestness in his tone gnawed at you, and for a moment, you considered confiding in him. But the idea of revisiting last night’s turmoil felt too raw, too immediate. “I’m fine, truly,” you insisted, meeting his gaze with as much steadiness as you could muster. “It was… nothing that can’t be mended with rest.”
Choso’s gaze lingered on you, his fingers resuming their gentle tracing along your scalp as if that alone could soothe whatever burden you were carrying. “Well,” he finally said, his tone filled with fond exasperation, “I won’t press you. But I trust you’ll speak of it when you feel you are ready.”
You gave a slight nod, grateful for his restraint. The quiet between you was comforting, grounding, as he continued his rhythmic motions, easing your thoughts in a way that words could not.
After a long moment, he broke the silence again, his tone lighter this time. “On a more cheerful note,” he began, a faint smile playing on his lips, “you’ll have another visitor tomorrow.”
“Oh?” you asked, raising an eyebrow, though a part of you already guessed who he meant.
“Yes,” he confirmed, a knowing glint in his eye. “Sukuna received word of your injury and set off at once. He’ll be here by morning.”
You let out a small breath, a mixture of relief and trepidation filling you. “Tomorrow, then,” you repeated, feeling a hint of warmth at the thought. “It seems my brothers cannot resist making a fuss.”
Choso chuckled, squeezing your hand gently. “It’s what we’re here for. And perhaps Sukuna’s presence will help you feel a bit more at ease during the house party. He’ll see to it that no one bothers you unduly.”
You couldn’t help but smile at that, the thought of Sukuna’s reassuring, if overbearing, presence lifting your spirits slightly. “Well, at least there’s that to look forward to,” you murmured, and, with a soft sigh, leaned back against your pillows, letting Choso’s calming presence ease the lingering shadows of last night’s ordeal, even if temporary.
For you had a beast of a social gathering to deal with today, the same one where the ton would descend upon the outcome of your match, ready to laugh at you: the house party.
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“He what?” 
You flinched, scowling as you clutched your ears. Nobara’s shrill voice was not helping your recovery, nor were her rough combs through your hair; but alas, beauty has a price, and it’s one you’re reluctantly willing to pay. You oh-so terribly wanted to politely decline the formal invitation, but it seemed that the moment you woke, your mother was dead set on getting you ready for what she thought was your engagement party. Little did she know that her not so future in law had gotten rid of you as if you were a stray animal latched onto him, but who were you to burst her bubble?
Perhaps you ought to dread the inevitable fallout from your mother when the truth emerged, but you consoled yourself with the thought of drowning your sorrows in champagne tonight, delaying her wrath for at least a little while. Besides, the prospect of Sukuna’s impending arrival tomorrow brought you some comfort; his unruly nature often served as a distraction from your own troubles.
You sighed heavily, meeting Nobara’s furious gaze in the mirror. “He merely said he wished to absolve me of any trouble he had caused.”
“Good riddance!” Nobara shrieked, her hand furiously waving around the hair brush in a way that made you wary, for it would not be pleasant for it to make contact with your already tender head.  “He was never the one for you to pursue, for he lacks the honor of a true gentleman! And yet—oh, heavens!” She gestured at you accusingly with the brush, her tone turning sharp. “Why, pray, do you appear so disheartened?”
You open your mouth immediately, indignant and expecting your wit, your usual ally, to conjure a response for you, only to be left open-mouthed when it came up short. Nobara seemed to sense your hesitance, opening her mouth to unleash yet another accusatory and reprimanding remark, but you quickly moved to fill your silence. “I suppose I am just…offended that he dare reject me, the diamond. The ton will seize upon this dissolution with glee. They shall revel in my supposed failure, for it will be indicative of my failure to the Queen.”
Nobara arched a brow, her skeptical silence speaking volumes. She clearly wasn’t convinced, and before she could level another charge against you, a knock sounded at the door.
“Sister, are you decent?”
“Enter, Choso,” you called out, hastily adjusting the neckline of your pale pink gown and straightening the strand of pearls around your neck.
Nobara opened the door, though she made no attempt to soften her posture. The hairbrush remained firmly in her grasp, poised like a weapon, and Choso cast it a wary glance as he stepped inside. His presence brought a sense of calm, even as his expression betrayed some inner turmoil. He hesitated for a moment before moving to sit at the edge of your vanity, his gaze flickering between you and Nobara.
You narrowed your eyes, suspicious of his silence. “Well, brother? Out with it,” you urged, though your voice lacked its usual sharpness.
He sighed, clearly reluctant. “Very well,” he began. “Pray, hear me out. You know I have never hidden my disapproval of Lord Gojo.” At the sound of that name, you flinched, though you quickly masked it with a curt nod. Choso continued nonetheless, his tone steady but earnest. “In light of recent events, I have taken it upon myself to form…a contingency plan of sorts.”
Your curiosity was piqued, though Nobara snapped at you to sit still as she continued combing through your hair. “Go on,” you said, trying to sound nonchalant.
Choso leaned forward slightly, his voice lowering as though to ensure Nobara wouldn’t interrupt. “I have had the pleasure of conversing at length with Duke Nanami.”
You arched a brow, intrigued despite yourself. “The Duke Nanami?”
“Yes,” Choso confirmed. “He is an esteemed gentleman of considerable character, and, as fortune would have it, he is not currently pursuing anyone this season.”
Your lips parted, but no words came. Choso’s intent was clear, and the weight of his proposition settled over you like an unexpected storm. Nobara, meanwhile, had stilled entirely, her hairbrush forgotten in her hand as she turned to gawk at your brother.
“Is this,” she began, her voice disbelieving, “your solution to Gojo’s appalling behavior? To thrust her into the path of another?”
Choso shrugged, unbothered by her skepticism. “A better match by far, I would argue. The Duke has no such inclinations to trifling or dishonor.”
You sighed, leaning back as the tension in the room thickened. “And what makes you so certain the Duke would even entertain such an arrangement?” you asked, your voice tinged with a weariness you hadn’t intended to show.
Choso gave you a small smile, his hand reaching out to pat your shoulder. “Leave that to me, dear sister. For now, focus on enduring tonight’s ordeal. Tomorrow, you may take comfort in Sukuna’s arrival—and in the knowledge that your prospects are not as grim as they seem.”
You exhaled, unsure whether to feel gratitude or exasperation, as Choso rose from his seat. Whatever plans he had in motion, they would unfold in time. For now, you could only prepare yourself for the chaos that awaited.
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Gojo had outdone himself. Truly, magnificently outdone himself.
From the moment you entered the house, your hand resting lightly on Choso’s arm, the stares began. They weren’t the polite glances reserved for new arrivals at such gatherings—these were sharp, lingering, and accompanied by a cacophony of whispers that only heightened your unease.
You straightened your back, chin held high, determined not to give any of them the satisfaction of seeing your discomfort. But it was impossible to ignore the way every eye seemed to follow you, every head turned to observe as you passed. Whatever it was that had stirred this interest, you were certain Gojo was at the heart of it.
Feeling the oppressive smog of stares, you knew where you could find solace: the drinks table, where you could down a flute of champagne alongside your stress. And right as you excuse yourself from Choso’s hold, who is now looking in the general direction of some men—particularly a gaggle of men that included Lord Geto and Duke Nanami, who were looking at something in the direction of the dance floor with interest. As you walk, you take in the scene: a beautiful chandelier, and red drapings and coverings embellished with gold, a bloody alternative to the Gojo icy blue. You’re not sure why today’s ensemble of colors didn’t include blue, but you believe it is fitting for what’s going to happen to you after this party is over and your mother finds out about the elephant in the room. 
And as you glance longingly at the couples gliding across the floor, their movements synchronized with the lilting strains of the orchestra, your breath catches.
It is then that you see him.
Gojo Satoru is spinning a girl across the dance floor, his coat tails trailing like ribbons in the air. His lips move as he speaks, the tilt of his head paired with that too-familiar smirk. His partner laughs at something he’s said, a soft sound that reaches you even from this distance. You could almost identify her—there is no debutante in the ton you have not cataloged, no rival whose dossier you do not possess—but tonight, it does not matter. She is just a blur of chiffon and curls, another face in a sea of women enthralled by him.
Your chest tightens as you take in the scene, a memory unspooling unbidden.
Is this what your first dance with Gojo had looked like to others? Did you appear as enraptured as this girl, your steps as confident and sure beneath his lead? You remember his light touch at your back, his questions whispered so quietly you doubted even the orchestra could eavesdrop, his eyes full of a charm so practiced it felt like a spell cast just for you.
And yet now, the spell is broken.
He is steering her—steering everything—with such ease that it almost makes you laugh. Were he not so infuriating, you might have admired his grace, the way he seamlessly dominates both the conversation and the dance. His amusement is evident in the quirk of his brow, the corners of his mouth curling with every word she utters, no doubt answering his questions with meek enthusiasm.
She is simple. You can tell from the way he looks at her, the way he pauses before replying as if translating his own thoughts into something digestible for her. The way she beams at him—unaware of how deeply he calculates every move—is almost endearing. Almost.
He is drawing the same conclusions he did of you. Simple, lacking substance. 
The thought leaves a sour taste in your mouth. 
But then the girl laughs again, a little too loud, and Gojo’s expression flickers for just a second—long enough for you to notice. His smile tightens, his gaze sliding briefly across the room as though searching for something more stimulating. It is instinctual, this glance, and his head tilts in such a way that you know it will land on you if you linger a moment longer.
Your heart stutters in protest, your legs already moving.
Punch table. Right.
As you near it, you grab the closest drink and down it one sip, desperate for the cool of the liquid to calm both your throat and your heated mind, furious with thoughts and anxiety of those around you. And it was just as you begin to set down the cool glass that  in your periphery comes the man who soon tests your resolve.
“Miss Itadori,” a voice drawled behind you, the unmistakable lilt of smugness weaving through it.
You turned, and there stood Naoya Zen’in, his grin as unctuous as ever. He bowed slightly, though the gesture felt more like mockery than courtesy. “I must say, you are positively radiant tonight.”
You inclined your head ever so slightly, each movement deliberate. “Mr. Zen’in. How kind of you to say.”
He grinned, and the sight was unsettling, a serpent preparing to strike. “Radiant, yes. A pity Lord Gojo has finally come to his senses and moved on. I thought the two of you might actually prove interesting.”
Your stomach churned, but you kept your expression serene. “I fail to see how my affairs are of interest to you, Mr. Zen’in.”
“Oh, but they are,” he said, stepping closer, his voice lowering as though he were sharing a confidant’s secret. “Everyone is watching, you know. Wondering why Lord Gojo is…otherwise occupied tonight.” He tilted his head, motioning discreetly toward the mantle, a few meters away, where Gojo stood, entertaining and welcoming another lady.
Your eyes betrayed you, flicking briefly in that direction. Gojo’s figure remained in your periphery, still close enough to notice but far enough to be unattainable. You tore your gaze away, unwilling to feed Naoya’s glee.
Naoya leaned in, his tone growing more audacious. “Quite the spectacle, wouldn’t you agree? Though perhaps it’s for the best. You have much to offer, Miss Itadori—breeding hips, for one.”
The words hit you like a slap, your mind reeling in fury and disbelief. Your breath hitched, but before you could muster a scathing retort, something else caught your attention.
Gojo’s hand, resting casually against the column, tightened into a fist. The movement was subtle, but unmistakable—a barely contained tension that you might have missed if you weren’t already attuned to his every breath, his every twitch.
Still, you refused to look directly at him. Whatever he felt, it mattered not.
“Mr. Zen’in,” you began, voice icy and measured, though the rage burned beneath the surface, “your comments are as inappropriate as they are unwelcome. I suggest—”
“Sister.”
Choso’s voice interrupted like a lifeline thrown to a drowning sailor. You turned to see your older brother approaching, his expression calm but his eyes sharp as they darted between you and Naoya. He came to your side, his imposing presence creating an impenetrable wall between you and the unwelcome intruder.
“Mr. Zen’in,” Choso greeted with a curt nod, his tone laced with a warning. “I trust you’ll excuse my sister. She and I were just about to take a turn about the room.”
Naoya’s grin faltered, but he recovered quickly, stepping back with a mocking bow. “Of course. Do enjoy your evening.”
Choso wasted no time, offering his arm to you. You took it gratefully, your legs unsteady as he guided you away from the scene and toward a quieter corner of the ballroom.
“Are you all right?” he asked softly, his voice gentle but firm, as though bracing himself for a truth he might not like.
You nodded, though the words escaped you. Your hands trembled slightly, and Choso placed his over yours, steadying you. “I saw the way you looked,” he murmured, his voice quieter now. “At Lord Gojo.”
Your breath caught, but you said nothing, focusing instead on the steady rhythm of your brother’s steps.
“Whatever he’s done—or hasn’t done—you are worth far more than his regard,” Choso continued, his tone resolute. “Do not forget that.” A pause. “Are you all right, Sister?”
“I am fine,” you lied, though your trembling hands betrayed you.
The evening only worsened from there.
More and more, you felt the weight of curious glances, the whispers growing louder as the night wore on. The absence of Gojo’s attention did not go unnoticed—least of all by your mother, who approached you and Choso with a determined expression, her fan snapping shut with a sharp flick of her wrist.
The warmth of the ballroom’s lights could not thaw the ice that slipped down your spine as your mother approached. Her movements were poised as ever, but the tightness in her lips and the fury barely hidden in her eyes told you everything. She stopped just short of you, her fan snapping shut with a sharp click that made you flinch.
“Explain,” she hissed, her voice low enough to avoid drawing the attention of onlookers but sharp enough to carve into you.
Your breath caught in your throat. You glanced towards Choso for reinforcement, but his furrowed brow and subtle shake of his head told you he would not intervene—not yet.
“I… don’t understand, Mother,” you murmured, though the words tasted hollow even as you said them.
“Do not toy with me, child,” she snapped, her tone still hushed but more cutting. “The entire room is whispering. Where is Lord Gojo? Why has he not so much as glanced in your direction tonight? Why is he—” Her eyes darted to the waltz floor, where Gojo had just excused himself from yet another partner. “Why is he dancing with others while you stand here like a forgotten debutante?”
The words hit like a slap, and you flinched again, your gaze falling to your gloved hands. You wanted to speak, to explain, but the lump in your throat grew larger with every second.
Her voice softened but grew no less fierce. “What have you done?”
Your chest tightened, and for a fleeting moment, you considered telling her everything—about the garden, about Gojo’s words, about how utterly humiliated you had felt. But then the heat of the ballroom pressed down on you, the glances from curious onlookers prickling your skin like needles.
You couldn’t. Not here.
So, you said nothing.
The silence between you stretched thin, your mother’s patience fraying with every passing moment. Finally, she straightened, her lips pressed into a pale line. “This is how you repay all that has been done for you?” she whispered, her voice trembling with restrained fury. “Do you even comprehend what this will do to your prospects? To this family? You have disgraced yourself, and worse—you have disgraced me.”
Her words left you hollow, the guilt settling into the spaces where indignation might have taken root. Still, you could not look up, nor could you summon any defense.
Your mother’s fan snapped open again with a sharp flick, the motion more violent than graceful. “We are leaving,” she declared, turning abruptly on her heel. “Now.”
Choso stepped closer, his hand brushing lightly against your elbow as if to steady you. You dared a glance at him, finding his gaze steady and quietly supportive. It was only his presence that kept your legs moving as you followed your mother toward the grand doors.
The weight of the room’s collective gaze bore down on you with every step. The music swelled in the background, mocking you with its cheerfulness. As you neared the exit, your feet faltered.
And then you saw him.
Gojo.
He stood near the edge of the dance floor, his posture uncharacteristically tense, his jaw clenched tightly, his usual easy confidence dimmed. His head tilted slightly, his eyes cutting through the crowd to meet yours.
Your breath hitched. In his gaze, you saw regret—yearning, even—and something else you couldn’t quite name.
But it didn’t matter.
You tore your eyes away, your jaw tightening as a steely resolve settled over you.
You would not break.
Not here. Not now. Not for him.
As you stepped into the cool night air, you drew in a deep breath, willing the ache in your chest to dissipate. Gojo Satoru had taken enough from you. Your heart, your dignity—no more.
If he thought you would crumble, he was mistaken.
He would regret this, you vowed silently.
And you would make certain of it.
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The morning that came in a few days was no less disheartening than the night of the house party. The morning sun filtered weakly through the gauzy curtains of the drawing room, casting pale, lackluster patterns on the carpet. Even the sunlight seemed hesitant, as if it knew it had no place in the solemn atmosphere that hung over your family.
Even Yuji was solemn as you all sipped on your tea, the drawing room oddly quiet as you reflected in the aftermath of the past few days. The events of the house party still loomed over you. Your family’s hasty departure had been punctuated by the sight of your mother in whispered conversation with Duchess Gojo, their faces tight with the bitterness of dashed expectations. You had no doubt they had commiserated over your perceived recklessness and Gojo’s insolence, lamenting how the perfect match they had orchestrated had unraveled before their very eyes.
You had borne it all in silence.
But now, in the cold light of morning, your resolve felt brittle.
Your hands tightened around your teacup as you stared into the amber liquid, your reflection rippling with each shallow breath you took. Independence? That word felt hollow. You had fought for it, yes, but at what cost? The ton’s whispers had already begun. You could feel their weight pressing on you, suffocating in their judgment. The laughter and speculation at your expense would echo through parlors and ballrooms for weeks, if not months.
And yet, deep down, there was a spark of defiance. They thought this was your undoing. They thought you would crumble. But they had no idea.
"Why does it feel like we’re mourning?" Yuji muttered, breaking the silence. His voice was quiet, but the sarcasm was unmistakable. "It’s not as though anyone has died."
Your mother’s sigh this time was louder, sharper, and followed by a pointed glance in his direction. “Yuji, do not jest,” she snapped. "This is no laughing matter."
Choso, who had been reclining with one arm draped lazily over the armrest of his chair, sat up straighter. “Mother,” he said cautiously, his voice soft but steady, “I think it’s time we address what’s truly troubling you.”
Her handkerchief stilled in her lap. For a moment, the room was silent again, the tension thick enough to choke on.
“Troubling me?” she repeated, her tone icy. “You think I am troubled, Choso?”
“Everyone is troubled,” Choso replied, his gaze flicking briefly to you. "But perhaps if you said what’s on your mind, we could all breathe a little easier."
Your mother’s lips thinned as she sat up straighter, her shoulders stiff. “Very well,” she said sharply, “if you must know, I am ashamed.”
The word hit you like a slap, even though you had expected it. You gritted your teeth, staring down at your tea to hide the flush of anger and embarrassment creeping up your neck.
“Ashamed of what?” you asked quietly, your voice tighter than you intended.
“Of you,” she replied without hesitation. “Of the scandal you have brought upon this family. Do you think your actions have no consequences? Do you think the ton will simply overlook your…” She hesitated, clearly searching for the most cutting word. “Your antics with Lord Gojo?”
You felt Choso stiffen beside you, his protective instincts clearly flaring, but you held up a hand to stop him. You wouldn’t hide behind your brothers—not this time.
“I have done nothing wrong,” you said, your voice low but firm. “Gojo and I made a mutual decision that we were incompatible. We—”
“You humiliated yourself!” she interrupted, her voice rising. “And by extension, this family. Do you think people are speaking of him? No! It is you they ridicule. It is your name they sully.”
Your chest burned with anger and hurt, but before you could retort, Yuji shifted uncomfortably, muttering, “This is getting out of hand…”
“You think I care about their opinions?” you snapped, finally lifting your gaze to meet your mother’s. “The ton has always been cruel. They would find a reason to gossip no matter what I did. I refuse to live my life pandering to their expectations—”
“And look where that refusal has left you,” your mother interrupted, her voice shaking with fury. “Unmarried. Ruined. Who will have you now?”
You flinched, the words cutting deeper than you thought possible. Your lips parted, but no words came out. What could you possibly say to that?
The silence that followed was deafening.
Until a voice, smooth and amused, broke it.
“Now, now, Mother. I know you’ve always had a flair for the dramatic, but let us not turn your theatrics onto our dearest sister.”
All heads turned toward the entrance, where a figure lounged against the doorway, his presence commanding without even trying. There he stood—Sukuna, your brother, looking entirely too pleased with himself for someone who had kept you waiting for days. Both you and Yuji involuntarily gasped in excitement, while Choso only shook his head in amusement and crossed his arms.
He strode into the room with an air of nonchalance, his tailored attire immaculate, his smile one of mocking amusement. His gaze flicked to your mother, then to you, lingering for a moment as if to appraise the damage left in her wake.
“Good morning,” he said smoothly, the corners of his mouth curling. “I trust I’ve arrived in time to save you from a most tiresome sermon.”
Your mother bristled, but her voice faltered, her ire now redirected. “Sukuna, this is hardly the time for your irreverence—”
“And yet here I am,” he interrupted, dropping into a chair with the kind of ease that only Sukuna could muster. He leaned back, his sharp gaze softening just slightly as it fell on you. “I thought you might appreciate a reprieve. You seem to have had enough lectures for a lifetime.”
You could feel tears welling in your eyes. You had severely underestimated how much you missed your elder brother, seeing his presence stir a fondness and comfort you hadn’t felt ever since he left for Europe. And it seemed that your brothers shared your sentiment; Yuji was basically on his haunches, doing everything he could not to leave his chair to tackle Sukuna, and Choso barely holding in an amused smile. 
“Still causing chaos wherever you go, I see,” Choso said dryly, though there was no malice in his tone.
Sukuna smirked. “Someone has to keep things interesting.”
Your mother huffed, her lips pressing into a thin line as she rose from her seat. “I refuse to be made a fool in my own home. Sukuna, do try not to corrupt your siblings further while I attend to matters of actual importance.” She swept out of the room with her usual imperious grace, leaving a silence in her wake.
As soon as she left, you left your chair to basically jumping on him, hugging him tightly as he reciprocated your hug with wrapping his big arms around yours with equal fervor. “Kuna,” you whispered, burying your face into his chest as the tears started flowing. His presence surrounded you, offering you a comfort and familiarity that the eventful weeks, ever since your debut, hadn’t offered
Sukuna looked down to you with a raised brow as he patted your head affectionately. “Well, that was entertaining. Now, who’s going to tell me what truly happened while I was gone?”
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prev. the fall | next. the rebound
general masterlist | series masterlist
a/n hi everyone!!! so i lied and said the update wasn't gonna take as long #womaninmalefields BUT thank you for your patience <3
so uh....we are now gonna enter the arc with DRAMAA. there will be yearning, there will be angst, and soon after, there will be fluff. idk if anyone needs to hear this, but, again, this series will have a happy ending. if anyone is sad, don't worry. i'm going to make gojo grovel <3
SUKUNA IS BACK SUKUNA IS BACK what do we think?! spoiler alert this is what sukuna will wanna do to gojo after reader spills the tea
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THANK U FOR READING!!! rest assured reader a BADDIE there will be some showing ankles and lowering bustlines to start our reputation era and infuriate gojo but u didnt hear that from me !!!
comment and reblog to let me know ur thots ;3
TAGLIST:
@ncitygreen @backstagepaige @serinatly100986 @nappingmoon @coochellati
@extremelyexh4usted @yoshisaurmuchakoopas @nixiepixee @generalstephkenobi @vernasce-blogs
@byhuenii @geniejunn @a-girl-with-thoughts @dazedin2d @chuuqxs
@megumiivs @anthastudios @arranacosmist @arishaxml @jingyuun
@undercooked-chaos-noodle @jaegersity @camzzn @bluelai @1sweetheart1
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@soobssedwithyourex @manyno @samkysnks @stefnarda @bbqsauceonmytitties2
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hayatoseyepatch · 7 months ago
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Description: Kaji would never eat another lollipop again if he could have his mouth on you at all times. Basically just oral with Kaji Ren.
Featuring: Ren Kaji x Reader
Word Count: 1.1k
Tags: smut, afab!reader, reader has a vagina, tried to make this one as gender neutral as possible, oral fixation, cunnilingus, face sitting, dirty talk, Kaji being a menace, written with a curvy reader in mind (but no indication of size)
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a/n: This honestly was supposed to be one part of a headcannon fic but then I got carried away writing this. So enjoy some Kaji lickin’ ya like a lollipop lmao.
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Kaji tries so hard to regulate his emotions. From his lollipops to keep his sharp tongue on lock, and the music he uses to drown out the world to keep his temper under control. He hated the way his rage over took him, made him feel like a wild animal, incapable of controlling his actions or avoiding hurting people.
But you had become an outlet for him. In most cases it was the way you were able to calm him with just your mere presence. The feeling of your nails scraping his scalp as you carded your fingers through his hair. The way the soft tone of your voice was able to snuff out his raging anger better than any melody. He’d always have his mouth busying itself with you. Whether it was the both of you cuddled up on the couch his mouth absent mindedly trailing kisses along your shoulders up to your neck. The way your lips pressed against his in sweet kisses that put his mind at ease.
However, there were times, times where you offered a different outlet for his raging emotions. Kaji could get lost in  your body, the way it made him feel, the way he would drown himself in the feeling of you. His lollipops long forgotten, the taffy paling in comparison of the sweetness of your cunt’s juices that coated his tongue, always eating your cunt like a man starved. He dives down, burying this face into your folds. His nose bumps your clit as his tongue invades your entrance, curling inside you. He collects your juices on the wet muscle, withdrawing from inside you he pushes himself up. Tongue lolling out of his mouth, allowing your juices, mixed with his own saliva, to drip down on your neglected clit.
He watches, enraptured, as the mix of your juices and his saliva drip down, coating your cunt in the both of you. He ducks down once more, licking a fat stripe up your cunt. Collecting your wetness on his tastebuds. “C’mere baby” He groans, his large calloused fingers entangling your waist. Using his strength, he easily maneuvers you both, now laying flat on his back with you straddling his waist. His eyes bore into yours as you look down at him. “I want you to sit on my face, sugar.”
Being a grade captain and constantly reeling in his emotions, being careful with every choice he makes is exhausting. Sometimes relinquishing his power to you is the best form of soothing, he trusts you fully and wants you to have your way with him. Just letting him encapsulate himself in the moment with you, just focusing on you both. As if the world outside and the one in his mind doesn’t exist, here its just you and him and the way you make each other feel.
Your cheeks flush a bright pink at his request, one said so simply it was as if he was asking you to pass him something. “But Ren.. What if I…” Your words are cut off, a heated kiss placed against your lips. He pulls away after a moment, breaths panting against your lips. “But nothing angel, sit on my face and let me eat your pretty pussy like its one of my lollipops” His words send a shock to your core, cheeks flushing a deeper red at the filthy words that leave his mouth, but also extinguishing any further arguments you had for him.
Shakily, you crawl up on the bed, throwing one leg over his face to sandwich his cheeks. You hover your cunt over his face, lifting the material of his oversized t-shirt to expose yourself to him. You exhale a breath, preparing to lower yourself onto his face. Before you can, however, his large hands grip your hips pulling you down to be flush to his waiting mouth.
A shocked gasp leaves your lips, and Kaji takes this opportunity to nuzzle his face in between your folds once more, tongue swiping out of his mouth to glide against your clit. “Oh, Ren, baby, fuuuck~ ” You moan, throwing your head back, losing yourself in the pleasure he’s providing. Your earlier worry and fear being tossed out the window as you grind your hips against his face.
Kaji lets one hand leave your hips, moving to grip the plush fat of your ass. He releases the soft flesh only to give your ass a harsh smack, the sound echoing throughout the room. He soothes the area, tongue never stopping its ministrations against your sensitive nub. Kaji devours you like a man starved, if you didn’t feel his shallow breaths against you, you would wonder if he was even breathing. He pulls away, hot breaths fanning against your clit. “That’s it angel, that’s my baby, go ahead and ride my face sugar.”
You don’t need to be told twice, sinking down until his nose bumps your clit, hips grinding down on his face. Kaji lolls his tongue out of his mouth to lick at your clit, breaking only to playfully nip it from underneath you. He grins against your cunt when you heed his words any hesitancy from earlier long gone. Your hips pick up speed, practically riding his tongue. He flattens the muscle, letting you do just that. The words that tumble out of your mouth are nothing more than incoherent calls of his name mixed with pleas and curses. Kaji feels your thighs spasm, both hands now gripping your ass, to pull your cunt further onto his face.
Your hips bucking against his tongue, as you cry out a mix of curses and his name. You can feel the coil inside you about to break. “Ren, Ren, please…fuck!” He mumbles something that sounds like approval against your heat, and that’s all it takes for the dam to break. You release with a scream, thighs trapping his head between your legs, only releasing once you’ve come done from your high.
With the last bit of energy you can muster, you remove yourself from on top of him settling into his chest, nose nuzzling into the crook of his neck. His arms wrap around you, pulling you close, lips pressing against your forehead in a gentle kiss. “So proud of you baby, did so good for me, I love you so much.” He says softly meaning every word. When your breathing had evened out, your joint actions from earlier lulling you to sleep, Kaji thinks about how no song would ever compare to the sound of your contented breaths as you sleep, tucked safely in his embrace.
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Thought Kaji deserved some attention since he wasn’t in the last one. I’m thinking of writing for the loml Tsubaki next~ Hope you enjoyed, see you in the next one!
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writing-until-i-drop · 3 months ago
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Hate Fuck Pt. 2 | wc: 643
Continuation of Hate Fuck from Kinktober 2024. You and Jake get to the bottom of what's going on between the two of you.
Warnings!: unprotected p in v sex (wrap it before you tap it), creampie, enemies to lovers, lowkey idiots in low, not proof read lmk if I missed anything
Read Pt. 1 Here
Requested by @closetspngirl & @1111zxc
If you thought sleeping with Hangman once had messed with your head, sleeping with him almost every night had been like a full-frontal lobotomy. It had been a week since the first incident and now you were laying in his bunk, his arms wrapped around your waist as he kissed your neck. 
“What are we doing, Jake?” Jake? Since when did you use his first name? You turned in his arms, thinking looking him in the eyes would make it easier to remember that you hated him but instead it just made that stupid fluttery feeling in your stomach worse. 
Jake cupped the back of your head, bringing you in for a slow, lingering kiss that had you leaning into him, lips parting for him to deepen the kiss. You slipped your leg between his, just to be closer to him, and that’s when you knew you were fucked.
“Hangman-”
“Call me Jake, sweetheart, please,” His voice was soft and vulnerable, like he was waiting for you to laugh at him or make some kind of joke. 
“Jake,” You whispered, cupping his cheek. “What are we doing?” Jake kissed you again, shifting you onto your back, and you were all too happy to let him. Things with Hangman were complicated but everything with Jake was easy, he kissed his way down your neck, sucking just below where your undershirt would sit, hiding his mark from the prying eyes of your squadmates. 
“Guide me in, sweetheart,” Jake moaned as you wrapped your hand around his thick cock, giving him a few short strokes before guiding him to your entrance. “So fucking good for me, sweetheart. You feel so good squeezing around my cock.” He rocked in and out of you slowly, kissing your neck and breasts.
“What are we doing?” You whispered, the words like a mantra in your blissful state. Jake sucked a mark on your neck and you couldn’t bring yourself to care if your squadmates would be able to see it.
He didn’t answer you, his thumb finding your clit, rubbing agonizingly slow circles. Your moans filled the small room, spurring Jake on. He moved slightly faster but it was still the slowest the two of you had ever gone. This wasn’t hate fucking or even just casual sex, this was making love and it scared you. Your orgasm built inside of you, coiling in your stomach with every thrust. 
“Tell me what you want, sweetheart,” Jake whispered, nudging your nose with his. “Tell me what you really want.” You said the only thing that came to your mind before you could think up a lie.
“You.” Jake pinched your clit, the increased pressure sending you over the edge, your back arching as the orgasm washed over you in waves. Jake was right behind you, spilling inside of you with a grunt, his face buried in your shoulder.
“What are we doing?” You asked again, running your fingers through his hair. Honestly, you weren’t sure what answer you wanted from him. On one hand, you were comfortable with hating Jake, you could convince yourself that this past week had been a case of temporary insanity. On the other hand, this past week had made you want to hold onto Jake and never let go, to let down all of your carefully built walls, and fall into bed with him every night. 
Jake’s eyes stared into your soul, like he was trying to read your mind and for once, you didn’t try to put on a mask to hide your feelings. He kissed you again, stealing your thoughts better than any Vegas magician ever could, 
“Ask me again, sweetheart.” You closed your eyes for a moment, gathering the courage to ask because this time you knew you were going to get an answer.
“What are we doing, Jake?”
“We’re falling in love.”
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allthesmutl0vers · 4 months ago
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I’ll hope on the train! Draco x Reader!
Yes!! I love some Draco smut. You didn't specifically request smut or any kind of situation, but I will do my best!🫡
A/N: PSA to everyone sending me requests, please tell me if you want Angst, Smut, or Fluff (Or a mix). Otherwise, I'm just going to assume Smut because it's like 98% of what I write. 🫠🫶
MDNI, NSFW, 18+.
Requests: OPEN
Masterlist
Pairing: Draco Malfoy x F!Reader
Summary: Draco has been your arch-enemy since the first year. He was always running his mouth, calling you 'mud blood' or calling your friends 'blood traitors.' But damn, if he didn't soak your fucking panties at the same time. It was your own personal Hell, and frankly, you were burning. How could he be anything besides cruel? How could you possibly want him and hate him at the same time? It should be a felony how much he can turn you on and piss you off in the same breath.
TW: Angst, Hate Sex, Taunting, Teasing, Smut (P! in V! -you're on birth control), Hair pulling, Choking, Name calling, Cursing, Ends with fluff.
Song Inspo: Click here. (Take me back To Eden: Sleep Token)
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"Come on, just bloody admit it," Ginny groans across the train car. "You know he's into you, so what's the holdup?" She asks for the millionth time.
I roll my eyes, annoyed by her constant nagging of the subject, and sigh. "I told you, he's vile. I wouldn't touch him if he was one of the last men on the planet," I try not to snap back at her, but do anyway.
"But he's in our house, and he's hot. Who cares if he's a player?" She asks as she tosses more Bertie Bott's Beans into her mouth. I sigh and look out of the window. How can I possibly explain to her that I'm not interested in Cormac because all I can think of is one particularly vile Slytherin?
"I need some air," I brush off her question as I stand up from my seat. I exit the train car and head to the bathroom to splash some water on my face. The cool water does very little to douse the flames under my skin. "Get your shit together," I mutter to myself in the mirror, gripping the edge of the sink so hard my knuckles turn white.
I sigh and stand up to straighten my tie when the bathroom door opens. Bloody hell, Ginny. I turn to snap at her, but instead, I'm greeted by the one person I swore to myself to avoid at all possible costs. "Great," I huff and roll my eyes.
"Now, is that any way to greet your superior?" Draco quips as his eyes narrow down at me.
I can't help but laugh. "Superior? Don't flatter yourself, Malfoy. Now, move," I tell him firmly, clenching my jaw so I don't clench my thighs. Honestly, how could someone this hot be so damn infuriating?
Instead of stepping back, he steps forward, coming into the bathroom and closing the door behind him. "No. Don't think I will," he seethes, looking down at me.
I reach for my wand, only to realize I left it in the cabin. Great. Draco tsks and shakes his head with a smirk. "Forget something?" He quips.
I straighten my back. "No. I don't need a wand to kick your ass. Slytherin trash," I spit back at him with venom lacing my voice.
"Mm," Draco hums in response, taking another step closer. "Give it your best shot, mud blood," he says with a brow raised in curiosity.
I clench my fists, bringing one up and back and throwing it right at his face. Draco catches my fist with no effort at all, enclosing it in his ringed hand. "Nasty are we?" He taunts. "Too bad I was feeling generous today," he quips with a smirk and closes the space between us, his chest flush with mine. My heart pounds so hard I can hear it in my ears, and I pray he can't feel it through our clothes.
"What's wrong, love? Dementor got your tongue?" He teases as my mouth hangs open mike a fish. I mentally kick myself in the ass for it.
"Piss off, Malfoy," I spit back at him. I look at my hand, still encapsulated in his, as he smirks. His tongue dips out to lick his bottom lip, and I hate my traitorous pussy for getting wet as he does it.
Draco chuckles and smiles for just a moment before he presses me against the wall of the bathroom, grabbing my other wrist and pinning both above my head. "I do hate it when we fight. Why don't we call a truce?" He says, looking down at me, his free hand trailing my jaw and gripping my chin, forcing me to look up at him. "Hmm?"
"Thought you didn't fuck mud bloods?" I taunt, instantly wanting to take it back, when I realize I didn't say no. Which doesn't go unnoticed.
Draco's grip on my wrists tightens. "I think I can make an exception just once. I didn't hear you say no," he teases. My thighs clench together, and I fight the whimper that wants to break free from my throat.
"And if I do say no?" I swallow hard.
Draco's jaw ticks, and his eyes narrow down at me. "Then I'd say you're lying," he says, leaning into my ear. "Not just to me, I don't care about that. But lying to yourself, and that's just pathetic," he whispers in my ear, his warm breath a stark contrast from the coolness of his fingertips as they glide down my body to the end of my skirt. "You're a lot of things, love. But I never pegged you as pathetic."
My breath hitches in my chest as his fingers dance around the hem of my skirt, only fueling the fire inside of me. "So. you have two choices," he says firmly as he looks into my eyes. "You can walk out that door," he leans closer, our noses brushing. "Or, you can let me give you the best fucking sex of your life. And maybe we stop hating each other so much."
He releases me, taking a step back as my hands fall to my sides. "You have to the count of three. Otherwise, you surrender the choice to me. One," he starts to count.
God, what am I doing?
"Two," he says in a slightly deeper voice. I should run, I should run, and never look back. I should leave him hanging just as he's left me before.
"Last chance, love," Draco says darkly, starting to undo his tie. It's now or never. I swallow hard, and in the last instant, I decide to let him keep me. For now.
"Three," Draco counts, placing his tie on the counter and pulling out his wand. He does a hurried enchantment, soundproofing the bathroom and locking the door magically before he sets his wand down, too. "You're all mine, now."
I open my mouth to speak but am quickly silenced by Draco's mouth, landing on mine in a fevered kiss. His hands grip my waist, pulling me closer, and I can't stop my hands from draping around his neck, pulling him closer and deepening the kiss.
Draco groans into my mouth as I part my lips, allowing his tongue to enter for the first time. Sparks erupt under my skin as he licks the roof of my mouth. My hands run through his hair, pulling the silky stands and breaking our kiss as we gasp. "Merlin, I need you," Draco groans as he grips my thighs, lifting me off of the floor and sitting me down on the bathroom counter.
"I need you too," I moan softly. "God, I hate you so much," I pant as his lips land on my neck, kissing and nipping the sensitive skin behind my ear.
"Hate, love, I really don't see the difference. Nor do I care," Draco pants as he pulls back and reaches under my skirt, pulling my panties down and off. "All I care about is fucking you so hard you can't say anything besides my name," he huffs as he undoes his pants, pulling them down and pumping his cock in his hand.
"Then fucking do it," I taunt him, my wetness practically dripping down my thighs.
A low growl escapes Draco's throat as he pulls me off of the counter and spins me, pushing me so I'm bent over the bathroom counter. "As you wish, love," he teases as he thrusts into me, giving me no time to adjust to his large size.
I gasp as he thrusts into me, white-knuckling the edge of the sink. "Fuck, give me some time to adjust; why don't you?" I spit over my shoulder.
Draco wraps my hair in his hand and yanks my head back to look at me in the mirror. "You fucking love it," he spits back. His free hand lands on my hip with a bruising grip. He pulls back and thrusts into me again with a moan. "Fucking tight. Guess you're not as much of a slut as I thought," he taunts.
Draco slams into me with a bruising force, making my eyes roll back as he pulls my hair tighter. "Draco," I moan, unable to stop myself.
"That's it, love. Scream my name," he moans as his thrusts quicken. "Let me hear how much you love it."
I thrust back onto him, forcing myself to take him deeper. Draco lifts one of my thighs, putting it on the edge of the counter and hitting that sweet, spongy part inside of me. "Fuck, yes!" I moan loudly. "God, Draco, yes!"
"Mm, never heard my name next to 'God,'" he chuckles darkly as his grip on my hip tightens.
I groan and moan at his audacity. "Shut up and fuck me, you fucking snake," I spew with venom.
Draco's hand leaves my hip, reaching around me, and his fingers start to circle my clit in fast circles. "Then cum for a fucking snake," he fires back.
I feel myself clench around him as my orgasm starts to crest. "Fuck, yes! Draco!" I cry out as my eyes close.
Draco's hand leaves my hair to grip my throat. "Open your fucking eyes," he demands. I obey and meet his eyes in the mirror, mascara falling down my cheeks. "Look at how pretty you look. Watch me fucking ruin you."
I keep my eyes locked with his as he repeatedly impales me with his stupid, delicious, devil fucking cock. And my God, is he right. I look beautiful, like an angel after they fell from grace. Draco leans forward, nipping my shoulder as he pulls down the collar of my shirt. He pulls me back by my throat, sucking a hickey onto my neck, right where it's the most visible. "Fucking mine," he growls. "Mine to fuck, mine to ruin, mine."
His words throw me off the edge. The possessiveness, the sucking, the stolen kisses, the brutal way he's fucking me all send me spiraling down to where? I have no idea. All I know is it isn't heaven. "Draco!" I cum with an Earth-shattering cry. Draco thrusts into me once, twice, three more times before he spills himself inside of me, filling me impossibly full as he cums with my name on his lips and his head tilted back.
After we both finally come down from our highs, we clean ourselves up and re-dress. "You're on birth control, right?" Draco asks me, breaking the silence.
"Yeah," I nod. "Don't worry, you won't have any mud-blood kids coming," I bite as I move toward the bathroom door.
Draco stops me, grabbing my arm and turning me to look up at him. "I'm tired of fighting," he admits, taking me aback with his sincerity. "I don't want to fight with you anymore. I just want..." his voice falters.
I bite my lower lip. "You really mean that?" I ask cautiously. Sure, he just plowed me, but how can I know it's not just afterglow?
Draco nods and pulls me closer. "My parents be damned," he sighs. "I just want you. It's always been you."
I nod looking down, unable to believe what I'm hearing from his mouth. Did Hell freeze over when I wasn't paying attention?
Draco tips my head back up to his face with a gentle finger under my chin. "I mean it. Whatever I need to do to prove it to you, I will."
"I suppose an apology to my friends would be a good first step."
Draco nods without hesitation. "Lead the way, love," he says, grabbing his wand and undoing the magic on the door. I exit first, and he actually follows me, taking my hand in his. When we get back to the car I share with Harry, Ginny, Hermione, and Ron, he follows me inside. "Hey, guys," I say nervously as their eyes widen in shock. "Look who came to apologize," I say with a smile as Draco steps into the car with me.
"Bloody fucking hell," Ron grumbles.
"You owe me a galleon," Harry chuckles and nudges Ron.
225 notes · View notes
serxinns · 9 months ago
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OOOO OGMVOVM SO IDEA:
YANDERE CLASS 1-A IS LIKE SO OBSESSED WITH READER BUT SHE HATES THEM ALL AND AVOIDS THEM, WHAT WOULD THEY DO ABT THIS?
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You hated them... you hated them all they were just too overbearing! The flirting thr kissing the unwanted touching everything and whenever you told them to fuck off they'll just coo and baby you saying "thats very mean! Darling! "
They kept always crowded around you it's no surprise there Iida always insisted on study dates every chance you could get your mom would always pressure you to join her private tea party and insist it would be just the two of us the way she said it creeper you out so you would always make excuses or just awkwardly walk away leaving her confused and a bit pissed. Denki is always on your ass whether it be teasing or playing around he kept clinging to you like some puppy it was Cringe honestly...
Izuku yapping about heroes even if you weren't listening, Kirishima and Shoji trying to show off by flexing their muscles, Mina or Hakagure always gripping your arm too tight or hugging you until you couldn't breathe and you had to hit them harshly on the back and they dared to complain about it Aoyama guy always trying to stuff your face with cheese even tho the smell of cheese makes you nauseous, ochako was ok untill she started making me go bake with her and suprise suprise! Momo joins her and it always turn into some competition about anything which takes the fun out of baking
You couldn't even talk to your other friend in PEACE shinsou was your go-to friend ever since your classmates started being overbearing you would rant for hours about them and he'd listen heck he let you chill in his dorms for a while or longer you couldn't be asked for a better friend, but back to the story you were just peacefully talking to shiso at lunch until bakugo and his petty little gang came over there everyone smiling at me expect bakugo ofc just glaring at me like I did something wrong, "is.. there a problem?"
"You damn right it's a problem! Your sitting with hyno shit over there!" He said pointing at Shinso "Bakubro that's not very manly!" He said in a stern tone but you had a feeling he wasn't scolding him, "what everyone's trying to say come sit with us y/n you don't have to be alone!" Mina said in a fake sickly sweet voice I swore I saw her eye twitch a bit but you didn't back down easily "im not alone tho I got shinso and I'm fine where I'm at you can eat your lunch and have fun without me" the squad got silence and awkwardly walked away but sending one final glare at shiso
Another time when you were talking with Kendo and Monoma at 2nd you kinda disliked Monoma or thought he was some crazy lunatic just because he kept ripping on your classmates but the 2 of you weirdly got along mostly because of your distasteful experience with your classmates, if the two of you weren't ranting about how your classmates were, the two of you would talk about hero stuff (mostly monoma bragging about being the best hero) or just talking about your interests and laughing at Monoma's antics and chaoticness
Kendo on the other hand made you feel like you had a friend she knows how overbearing and overwhelming your classmates get, so she would try to pull you away as best as she could despite the glares, snarls, and scowls she swore she heard from them she still wanted to help you one day you were dragged by hakagure and Mina to go to their room to play games but Kendo quickly grabbed the back of your shirt with paint hands to pulled you away "sorry gotta borrow them for a sec!" And quickly ran off
"Thx kendo I was about to snap at them and cause a scene" She smiled at you "No problem! I felt you were uncomfortable and had to do something ugh those classmates never leave you alone huh?" You chuckled your so grateful to have a friend like Kendo "anyways let's hurry and go to this "awesome" place monoma keep spamming my phone about" you playfully rolled you eyes and walked with Kendo
Meanwhile your classmates glared at the window Cleary pissed off it "seems like those pest need a lesson.." izuku said voice laced with vemon
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karajaynetoday · 1 year ago
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and i'd give up forever to touch you, cause i know that you'd feel me somehow | jack hughes
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Thank you for all the love on hey now, you're an all-star - i am honestly blown away by those notes!! here is a part two. let me know what you think, and what your predictions or desires are for a potential part three! xo
Word count: 3.3k
Warnings:  nothing major. uni stress again, jack being a bit of a dick. angst. all of the angst.
(This is a fem reader insert) read part one here read the part three here
More writing here | send thoughts/feedback/suggestions here | if you’d like to be on my taglist go here
Waking up was always slightly disorienting for you, and the next morning was no different.
Your dreams could be quite vivid, or you couldn’t remember them at all once you awoke; but the first thing you could sense on this particular morning was the strong scent of coffee wafting through the room. As your eyes adjusted to the morning light streaming in the windows, you became suddenly and painfully aware that you were alone on the couch. A blanket had been draped over you at some stage of your slumber, but Jack was nowhere to be seen.
You sat up slowly, rubbing your face, trying to ignore the anxiety that was building in your chest. You could hear a shower running, somewhere in the hotel suite, and hastily threw the blanket off your body as you scanned the room for your belongings.
Shoes. Where were your shoes? And phone? Keys? Did you bring a bag with you? What time was it? What time did your class start? Would you be able to get an Uber to Campus in time? Wait, was your class online or on campus this morning?
Your brain was churning out a thousand thoughts a minute, and your heart rate was starting to match it. You felt like a deer in headlights. Or a cat under a rocking chair. Or… just… lost. You were so lost.
Someone cleared their throat behind you and you jolted, whipping around to face Quinn, who was decked out in a brown leather jacket and grey pants, holding two steaming coffee mugs in his hands.
You must have looked distressed, because Quinn offered you a gentle smile and one of the mugs which you cautiously accepted.
“Thanks, Q. I really should get going soon, though. Get out of your hair before the big draft day circus arrives.” Your voice was still slightly groggy with sleep.
“Take as long as you need, sugarplum. Our call time isn’t for another two hours. Jack’s in the shower, and he’d hate it if you left without saying goodbye.” Quinn raised his eyebrows at you as you both took a sip of coffee.
“Watching Jack try and untangle himself from you on the couch did provide me with my morning entertainment though. Surprised he didn’t end up with another injury given how clumsy he usually is.” You felt your cheeks get warm at Quinn’s comment and the smirk on his face.
“He could’ve just woken me up…” You offered weakly, shrugging your shoulders in an attempt at nonchalance.
“No offence, but that was a risk that neither of us are willing to take. Not after last summer.” Quinn bit back a laugh as you narrowed your eyes at him.
Last summer at the lake house, you’d stayed up all night trying to finish the latest novel in your favourite fiction series. Jack had come into your room to wake you for the boat day you’d discussed the day before, but instead of a gentle approach to waking you up, he’d literally jumped onto your bed. Which caused you to sit bolt upright and “accidentally” punch him in the face. At least he thought the black eye made him look tough for a couple of weeks.
“Nice jacket, by the way.” You tried to change the subject.
Quinn stood up straight and puffed out his chest.
“You think so? Jack and I got to go down to Hermés and pick out our outfits yesterday. I felt suuuuper out of my league to be honest.”
Your eyes widened at the brand name Quinn just dropped, slightly choking on your coffee.
“Hermés? That’s proper designer, Q. Like, tens of thousands of dollars of jacket, right?”
Quinn didn’t answer you, but he didn’t have to. The look on his face told you that the jacket he was wearing was worth more than six months of your rent. Maybe more.
“Well, we have to do this red carpet thing, and I figured we should probably try a bit harder than team merch.” Quinn reached over and tugged playfully on the sleeve of your hoodie.
Well, Jack’s hoodie. That you happened to be wearing. Which was previously super comfortable, but now felt like your skin was on fire underneath it.
“What time is it, anyway?” There you go again, changing the subject.
“Like, 9.15?” Quinn offered, pulling his phone out of his pocket and showing you the time on his home screen.
9.15? Why was that important to you? What was at 9.15?
The test. In your economics class. Worth a decent chunk of your grade. It was at 9.30am. But was it online or on campus?
You downed the rest of your coffee in one gulp, ignoring how it burned your throat, and thrust your mug back at Quinn before tugging the hoodie over your head and throwing it on the floor. You turned around, searching wildly for your phone and spotting it on the couch where you’d been sleeping, not that long ago. You lunged for it, frantically unlocked and trying to find your university schedule in the calendar app.
“Oh thank god. It’s online. Holy fuck.” You closed your eyes and breathed deeply, trying to calm yourself down.
“Sugar? You okay?” Jack’s voice cut through your thoughts, and you looked up from your phone to see him standing in the doorway to his room.
Clad in black jeans, with a towel around his shoulders and his hair still damp from the shower. Shirtless. Of course he was shirtless. You squeezed your eyes shut out of instinct, and also to stop yourself from blatantly checking him out. When you opened them, Jack was striding towards you, his face etched in concern.
“What do you need?” Jack spoke quietly, but firmly, reaching out to rub your arms reassuringly. His touch sent a zap of electricity through you, which seemed to kick your brain back into gear.
“I need… Do you have a laptop I can borrow? I have an online test in 15 minutes that I forgot about, for a subject I’m almost failing, and if I miss the test then I don’t know that I’ll be able to recover my grade.” You half-whispered, almost wishing that Jack and Quinn couldn’t hear your confession out loud.
You were supposed to be the smart one. That’s what everyone said, when you were growing up. You were the brains, Jack was the beauty. You were the bookish one, he was the brutally athletic one. Talking about failing university out loud was suddenly terrifying, even though you’d known it was a possibility for a few weeks or more.
“Hey… hey.” Jack squeezed your arms, trying to centre you, and dropped his head down to your eye level. “It’s okay. I’ve got a laptop you can use, and you can stay here for as long as you need.”
All you could muster was a nod in response, and Jack leaned in to kiss your forehead before disappearing back into his room, presumably to find his laptop. You sat back down on the couch, suddenly unsure of what to do with yourself.
Quinn had briefly left to place your coffee mug in the kitchenette, but he was back and leaned over the back of the couch to squeeze your shoulder.
“You’ll smash it, kiddo. Make sure you ask Jack what his laptop password is though, I’d hate for you to get locked out during your test.” Quinn said quietly, before his phone rang and he stepped into his room to answer it.
“Here you go, sunshine. Fully charged, but the charger is in my room if you need it.” Jack was back in the living room, handing his laptop to you, already logged in and a web browser open for you.
You stood up from the couch and moved towards the dining table, setting the laptop down and pulling out a chair. It only took a minute to log into your university portal and navigate to the subject page you needed for the online test. You were about to click the start button, when Quinn’s comment flashed in your mind.
“Jack?” You squeaked, turning to face the couch where Jack had flopped down moments before. Still clad in black jeans, still fucking shirtless, absolutely ignorant of the effect he was having on your ability to breathe calming, mindlessly scrolling on his phone.
“What’s up?”
“What’s… what’s your password? In case I get locked out and you’re not here? Could you write it down for me please?”    You reached for the hotel notepad and complimentary pen that was on the table you were sitting at, waving them in Jack’s direction.
Jack rolled his bottom lip under his teeth as he stood up and took the notepad from you and began scribbling on it.
“I have to go downstairs and meet Bratter for some team social media stuff, but I’ll see you later, okay? Text me when you finish your test.” You’d never seen Jack move so quickly as he handed the notepad back to you, retrieved a shirt and jacket from his bedroom and disappeared out the hotel room door, all within a minute or two. 
You were confused, to say the least. You glanced down at the notepad Jack had thrust into your hands, and you could’ve sworn your heart stopped when you saw what he scrawled on it.
Password - SugarpluM2001Jh!
Quinn had headed out not long after Jack did, leaving you to complete your test in silence. Despite the disorienting start to your morning, and all of your revision notes being on your desk at home, you managed to scrape through with a 75% result which would supplement your final grade significantly. 
The waves of relief washed over you, as you clicked out of web page you were on. You reached for your phone and typed a quick message to Jack as promised, and you were confused when the laptop chimed with a notification noise. 
Oh. Oh. Jack’s laptop was linked to his phone, and his messages were suddenly popping up on the laptop screen in front of you. 
You shouldn’t pry. You knew that. Your logical brain was telling you to close the laptop screen and get going. But your anxiety brain was telling you that you should take a peek. Just a little one. 
Before your logical brain and anxiety brain could battle it out properly, the laptop notification chimed again, and a girl’s name that was not your own flashed up on the screen. 
What happened last night? I thought you were coming to my room after your dinner?? Xx
You felt your jaw drop, as you started to realise what was happening in this conversation you shouldn’t have been privy to. You froze, as the little bubble popped up in the chat, showing you that Jack was typing a reply.
Sorry babe i got caught up with some boring family bullshit, you know how it is. Would’ve rather have been with you obvs but i just couldn’t get away. Then today is crazy with media stuff anyway. I’ll see u at the drew house event tonight though? Go back to yours after that? Xo
Sounds great. I’ll be wearing this for you, J. *image attached*
You slammed the laptop shut when the image loaded, showing someone wearing a red and black lingerie set. 
You felt bad for snooping, but you felt worse knowing that Jack considered last night as “boring family bullshit”. Is that all it was? Were you stupid for thinking it was more? That it could ever be more between the two of you?
Or was that all you could ever hope to be? Like family. Forever intertwined, always floating in each other’s orbit, but never more than friends. Platonic soulmates at best, childhood acquaintances at worst. 
You were spiralling, yet again, and your phone buzzing with a notification provided a brief reprieve. Until you saw that it was a text from Jack.
Well done on your test, champ!! Knew u could do it. See you at the draft tonight? There’s two passes in your email for you and your dad to come visit. Might even get to meet bublé, if that’s your vibe lmao
Suddenly, there was a bitter taste in your mouth. Why was he pretending like he wanted to spend time with you? When surely all he actually wanted to do was sneak off with the girl he was texting just moments ago?
You swiped into check your email app, and there were the passes as promised. You quickly scanned the email to see if they were assigned to any particular name, and all you could see was “guest of Jack Hughes” rather than you or your dad specifically. You quickly hit the “forward” button, and sent them on to your dad and your cousin Tom, who had met Jack and Quinn a handful of times over the years, and was a massive hockey fan like your dad. You knew Tom would love to go, and your dad would be happy enough to have Tom join him.
You sent through a quick message to Tom saying you weren’t feeling well and that he’d be doing you a favour by taking your pass, to which he immediately replied with lots of exclamation points and thanks. 
Next, you typed a message back to Jack.
Thanks again for the laptop and for the passes. Something’s come up so i can’t come but dad will be there with tom, hope that is ok? Didn’t want the passes to go to waste. Good luck for the draft, don’t let quinn bully you too much lol
You were hoping that Jack wouldn’t question you, or pick up on the shift in tone. Well, maybe you wanted him to sense the tone a little bit. Jack’s typing bubble popped up in the text conversation, then disappeared, then popped up again, then suddenly your phone was vibrating with a call and Jack’s name was flashing across the top of your screen. Your fingers hovered over the answer/decline buttons, before you abandoned both and dropped your phone back onto the table, letting the call go to voicemail. 
You stood up from the table and began to gather your belongings. The bitter taste was still in your mouth, but otherwise you felt nothing. Just numb. You barely realised what you were doing when your body moved towards the hotel suite door, into the elevator, through the lobby and out onto the street. You waited a few minutes for your Uber, before slipping away through the streets of downtown, and as far away from Jack as you felt you needed to be. 
By the time you got home, Jack had called you twice, and sent you about ten text messages of various question marks and confusion, and a fair amount of concern. You plugged your phone into the charger on your bedside table before heading into your bathroom for a much-needed shower.
Your shower felt like it took about 3 hours, when in reality it was probably more like 20 minutes at most. You washed your hair, and spent some time sitting down on the shower floor staring into space, pondering the events of the last 24 hours. When you finally emerged, putting on your favourite sweatpants and an old Canucks hoodie you found on your bedroom floor, you realise your phone was flashing with more notifications.
You settled down in bed before picking up your phone and scrolling through the home screen. Jack had resorted to sending you photos of sad baby pandas to elicit a response, your dad had texted you to say thank you for the passes and to feel better soon, but it was a message from Quinn that caught your eye. 
Q: What did he do? He’s freaking out. Are you okay? I can beat him up if you want me to. Or give him a hug. Just let me know which is more appropriate based on whatever the fuck he did 
You hesitated, contemplating whether to tell Quinn the truth or not. But then you remembered that Quinn had literally known you since you were four. He could tell if you were lying in a heartbeat, even over text message. 
You: Maybe just remind Jack that his text messages pop up on his laptop. See if that helps him to figure it out lmao sorry to miss tonight quinny, hope you draft all the canucks you want xo
Q: He now looks like he’s going to throw up?? Still unsure if hugging or punching is required tbh
New message - Jack Hughes -
You sighed and rolled your eyes, before clicking on Jack’s message notification. 
I am an idiot. I’m so sorry, sugar. I swear i am.
Sorry for categorising me as “boring family bullshit” or sorry that you got caught trying to get your dick wet? Or sorry for pretending to be my friend when you apparently just tolerate me to be polite?
We have press for two more hours then i can call you. You’re my best friend, sugar. I love you.
You felt tears start to prick in your eyes as you read Jack’s message. Sure, he loved you. But not in the same way that you loved him. And right now, you felt like that would never change. 
You clicked out of your message thread with Jack without replying, and opened up your conversation with Quinn instead. 
I’ll come to the all-star game on saturday, but nothing else, if that’s okay with you? I just need some space for a bit, sorry x 
Whatever you need, kiddo. I’ll give the game passes to your dad tonight. I still don’t know what jack did, but i think not seeing you will be punishment enough for whatever it was??
You didn’t reply to Quinn’s message. You didn’t reply to any more calls or messages for the next day or so, switching between trying to catch up on study and catching up on some Netflix episodes. You were typing notes on your laptop on Saturday morning, when a New Jersey Devils Twitter alert popped up on the screen and caught your attention.
#NEWS: Jack went home to Jersey last night after participating in Thursday’s draft and Friday’s media hits. He was extremely honoured to be a part of All-Star Weekend, especially sharing it with his brother. He’s really close to returning and wanted to get back so he could continue to focus on the rest of the Devils season. 
The bitter taste you thought you’d gotten rid of suddenly returned with a vengeance. 
Jack went home to Jersey last night. You had no idea when you’d see him again. And to be completely honest, you weren’t even sure that you wanted to. Your laptop dinged again, this time with an email notification. You were confused to say the least when the new email appeared to be from an airline, with a voucher attached.
Your phone buzzed with a new text message.
I couldn’t stand being there knowing you’re mad at me, but i also don’t want to force you to talk to me when you’re not ready to talk yet either. Use the voucher to come to jersey whenever you want. I’m sorry. 
You rolled your bottom lip between your teeth, torn between accepting Jack’s offer and wanting to be stubborn and not let go of being mad at him just yet. You hated what Jack had done, but you also hated yourself for cutting short your time with him that was already in short supply as it was.
I’ll let you know. Might be a flight to Jersey, might be a flight to Michigan. We’ll see. Good luck getting back out there!
You knew the Michigan comment was a cheap shot, but Jack had hurt you, so you wanted to be childish and hurt him back. The idea of not seeing him for almost four months until the summer break, where you’d all gather at the Hughes lake house as you did every year, made you feel slightly ill. 
Whatever you want, sugar. Mac n cheese in michigan on me. Love you. 
The mac and cheese comment made you smile, and the love you comment made you want to cry. 
Love you too, J. Maybe too much. I don’t know. I need time. x
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wasawattpadkid · 2 years ago
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Housewife
Part - 1
Summery: Billy and Stu have been planning these murders for quite some time. Everything is going to plan until you show up. What happens when they meet someone who is just as mentally deluded as they are?
Pairing: Poly! ghostface x fem!reader
Warnings for this series: murder, blood, smut (will be more in depth on smut chapters), power dynamics, a dash of sexism, knives, stalking, perverse behavior, cheating,
Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5 Part 6 Part 7 Part 8 Part 9 Part 10 Part 11 Part 12 Part 13 Part 14 Part 15 Part 16 Part 17 Part 18 Part 19
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"Do you have anything you'd like to tell us about yourself?" You hated this. First days were known to be horrible for a reason. Why on earth would you want to tell a room full of strangers some random fact about you? They don't care if you have a pet nor do they want to know why you're here. The room was dead silent waiting for you to hurry up and sit down. "Umm-"
"What's your cup size?" A boy asked making the other kids in the class snicker. The dark-haired boy next to him smiled shaking his head in disapproval. "Steven I'm not doing this with you today, out." Steven groaned already grabbing his books. "But miss-" With a stern point of the finger she spoke again. "Out!" The class once again fell silent and you couldn't possibly feel more uncomfortable. You've done nothing wrong yet within 5 minutes you feel everyone staring at you with disdain.
Once the door closed behind Steven the teacher spoke again. "I'm terribly sorry Y/n. Just take Steven's spot for today and we'll figure the rest out tomorrow." A simple nod was all you could muster. All you had was a pencil in your hand and a bright yellow notebook sitting on top of your new desk. You closed your eyes trying to fast-forward time. This was the last class of the day and it could honestly not be worse. "Don't worry about him he's a dick." The note on your desk read. The boy to your left looked at you then the paper wanting you to send the note back.
With a quick scribble, you handed him the paper. A huffed laugh left his lips as he read "You are what you eat." The note was then crumpled and shoved into his pocket. That seemed to be the end of your conversation with the stranger but you pushed further. Leaning to the side you whisper, "What's your name?" Instead of saying anything he opened up his notebook. The black and white cover was scuffed showing obvious signs of use. He lifted the book showing you the inside. With a single word written in big letters. 'Billy.'
The class went on, no more pleasantries being exchanged. The bell rang signaling the tiring day was over. You were going to say something else to Billy but he was up and gone by the time you looked up. "So much for that." You mumbled as you got up. The movies always showed the new girl getting all the attention. Everyone tries to quickly mold her into their cult-like clique. Maybe it was the dress you were wearing or the way you wore your hair that made you look like a prude. Growing up with your grandparents sets you up for a life of social isolation.
The parking lot was crowded but not crowded enough to not see your bright red car. Just as visible was the short-haired boy sitting on the hood. "Get off my car." You scolded flatly. "Holy shit this is yours!? How'd you get it?" He asked bouncing with joy. "It's my dad's so I don't want you sitting on it. Thanks." You tossed your bags in the car as he continued talking. Just a second ago you were praying Billy would keep up some conversation. Now you're wanting nothing more than to get home. "Man look it's Christine!" He shouted as the girl next to him covered her ears. "Is he always this loud?" She laughed at the question shaking her head up and down. "Unfortunately. I'm Tatum, so you're the new girl everyone's talking about?"
A puzzled look fell over your features. "Who's talking about me?" Before she could answer Billy walks up to the car. "This is nice." His blabbering friend seems disappointed with that answer. "Nice? It's fucking awesome! Can we ride in it?" He turns to beg you. Billy looked over at you raising his eyebrows in silent confusion. "I don't even know you." What part of 'dads' car did he not understand? "I'm Stu, this is Billy."
"We've met." Billy says gesturing towards you. "it's nice to meet you Stu but I don't give rides to strangers." He walks over throwing his arm over your shoulder. Way too much physical contact from someone you don't know. "Well you know my friend Billy and now you know me. I'd say we're all friends here." Tatum rolls her eyes at her friend's antics. "If you two are going to harass this poor woman I'm leaving. I've got to catch up with Sydney. See ya, babe." She blew a kiss at Stu which he caught.
"Pleaseeeee." He begged. Just as Billy was about to intervene you agreed. "Fine but no food, drink, cigarettes, or really anything that could mess up this car. Got it?" You laid out the rules as you climbed into the driver's seat. Stu bit his lip nodding his head. "Yes ma'am. Come on man." Stu said as he jumped in the car. Billy stood awkwardly looking down at his feet. His eyes nervously looked around almost like he was late for something. "Go without me I've got some errands to run." Stu stuck his head out of the window. You tapped the steering wheel impatiently. "Come on man Christine is like your favorite movie." At this, Billy laughed.
"No, I think you're confusing things. A murderous car is definitely more your speed." At this point, you regretted saying yes to Stu. "Please come with us I don't trust him." Stu covered his heart in fake hurt. "If you should be worried about anybody you should worry about Billy." You seriously doubted that. Sure he was quiet and a little unnerving but he might just be shy. "Fuck it." His hands smack his thighs in defeat. Stu loudly rejoices at his friend's surrender. "Get in the back."
You figured Stu would put up a fight considering he was there first. Yet he opened the door with sad eyes and quietly got into the back. It was strange. You weren't sure how long these two had been friends but it was an odd dynamic. "Why do you get to sit next to her?" Stu whined from the back seat. "Because she doesn't trust you." A laugh forced its way from your throat. "Who said I trusted you? According to him, I should be careful around you." You pointed to the man in the back who gladly smiled. Billy propped his arm on the window shaking his head slightly. "I'm sorry but dressed like that you need to be careful with everyone."
"Gotta agree with him on that. You look like Betty Crocker." Stu leaned his head on the seat between you and Billy. "Don't get me wrong it's kinda sexy but still very grandma." With a roll of your eyes, you started the car, hearing the engine purr to life. The boy next to you cracked such a small smile you'd have to catch it on camera for proof that it happened. "This is amazing! I fucking love you, Betty Crocker." Stu kissed you on the cheek making your nose crinkle. At that, Billy actually laughed. Nothing too dramatic though. "Ew can you not touch me at all? Jesus Christ." With one hand on the wheel, you took the other to wipe your cheek.
"Now you see what I put up with," Billy adds. "Oh, so you kiss him too huh?" You drove out of the parking lot heading to the main road. "Only on weekends." Stu shrugged. You giggled but Billy didn't seem to find anything funny. "So what brings you to this hell hole?" He asks still keeping his eyes out the window. "Me and my moved into my grandparent's house after they passed. He found a good job here too so ta-da here I am" Stu leaned forward to press buttons on the dash which you promptly swatted his hand away. "What is your deal with this car?"
Stu seemed shocked you had to even ask. "It's Christine baby! The man-eating car." You blinked a few times a little confused. "You know the John Carpenter film? Came out in 1983. Same guy that directed Halloween with Michael Myers." Billy seemed interested in this conversation more so than others. His whole body seem to turn towards you actively listening to anything you had to say. "Of course, I know Halloween I've just not seen Christine." It was Billy's turn to pick at you. "You're telling me you've never seen Christine but you've got the car?"
He must be brain-dead to think you got a car based on a movie. "This is a 58' Plymouth. It is way older than the Christine movie. I've got the original if you ask me." Stu looked like he was adding numbers to fact-check your math. Billy on the other hand had the same stoic expression on his face. His eyes dragged up and down you seemingly trying to figure out something. "Say where do you two live?" Stu gave out directions to his house without hesitation. "You can just drop me off at his place." You nod in Billy's direction as you focus on the road.
"Why do you dress like this?" Billy picks at the fabric of your dress. It seems no one in this town knows what personal boundaries are. But you guess it beats the awkwardness of a new friendship. With these two it's like you jumped ahead. "I like it." Plain and simple. Billy wasn't buying it either was Stu. "It's more than just that. You know people look at you differently do you get off on that sort of thing?" The question was rude. If you had a backbone of any sort you throw him out of the moving car. Being a people pleaser however made you give him an honest answer. "Maybe. Do I notice when people look at me hatefully? Duh. But at the end of the day, I'm happy they looked at me at all. I mean you both look like every other teenage boy out there. You don't want to stand out?"
Stu liked your answer it was honestly one he could relate to. "No, we like to blend in." That was all Billy said. It was a change from the chattiness before. "Well, what about you Stu?" Billy turned to look back at the boy. Meanwhile he was happy at being included. When it was just him with some girls he could say whatever he felt like. When Billy was around things were different. Just with his eyes he could tell Stu what and what not to say. He didn't mind of course he loved Billy more than he would ever know really. Plus he knew his personality could be a lot for new people. It was nice to have someone to let him know when enough was enough.
"Like he said we like to blend in. We're not big attention whores." He laughed. You don't think the comment was aimed at you but you couldn't help but feel a little hurt by it. "What's your name?" Stu asked while he lay down in the back seat. "Y/n." Billy once again needed more of an answer. "Y/n what?" He was looking for a last name. "Wouldn't you like to know?" Stu's eyes shot back and forth between you two. "I would. That's why I asked."
"Well, you ask too many questions. Unless you're looking to change my last name I don't know why you'd need to know." Billy wasn't mad. Aggravated sure but not mad. You were smart. Not smart enough to tell two psychos to fuck off but smart enough to not hand out personal information easily. He'd have to work for it which he loved to do. "Is your place down this road Stu?" The boy perked up. A little sad that the ride was over. "Yeah just go on down."
"What are you doing this weekend?" Billy asked seeing his window of opportunity was closing. "Nothing much why?" More boring and cryptic answers. "We should come over to your place this weekend seeing as nothing's going on." Billy looked at his friend for backup. "Absolutely! I could bring a copy of Christine and we could get mad wasted!" Billy closed his eyes regretting asking him for anything. "I don't drink. Never had a reason to."
"Well, Ms. Crocker I'm giving you one." Unfortunately for these two you had self-preservation skills. Getting drunk with two men you don't know at your house is not smart. They act like you haven't seen any scary movies. "I'm not getting drunk with you two. I'll think about hanging out this weekend but no drinking. My dad would kill me if he knew I had two dudes in the house let alone drunk dudes." Billy could work with that. Stu was practically jumping at the idea to hang with you. For once he didn't have ulterior motives. He couldn't say the same for his friend who had that gleam in his eye he's seen before.
You pulled into the driveway saying goodbye to your new friends. "See you at school tomorrow?" Billy asked knowing the seat you occupied today would be permanently vacant so you could stay next to him. "Unfortunately. Bye, losers." You waved at the guys ready to get the hell home. The boys watched as you pulled away, the bright red car was easy to follow down the road. "What do you think about her?" Billy asked his friend. "She's alright man. Needs better taste in movies but I can fix that." Billy agreed but something just wasn't sitting right with him. In one day you managed to weasel your way into their lives. He wasn't sure if he wanted to watch movies with you or make you the star of one.
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Part 2
A/N: I've been writing for about 5 years now but I'm new to the Scream fandom. I just recently watched the first movie and I can't seem to get these two out of my head so feedback is greatly appreciated! See ya lovelies 💞
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alexlwrites · 11 months ago
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𝐑𝐞𝐝 𝐃𝐚𝐢𝐬𝐢𝐞𝐬
✿𝑷𝒂𝒊𝒓𝒊𝒏𝒈: OT7 x Plus Size! Reader
✿ 𝑺𝒖𝒎𝒎𝒂𝒓𝒚: "What was so outrageous about someone like you, you asked yourself and the universe. You had tried your best to compensate for any shortcomings with everything else that was expected of you: femininity, understanding, a sense of humor. Never enough, those were never even the first thing that came to mind when people thought of you.
Why bother then? If nothing you did made any difference at all, why try? If people hated your body just for existing, why not give them a reason to hate your personality as well?"
OR  
The one where seven campus princes who are used to getting everything they wanted get enchanted by your distrust and brattiness, climbing over each other to get a smile from you who could not be bothered to give them a single second of your day.
✿ 𝑻𝒂𝒈𝒔:  Romance, Humor, Fluff, Angst, College AU
✿ 𝑨/𝑵: I wanna leave this here as sort of a trigger warning: this work features a plus size main character and throughout the story there will be mean comments from characters about her body and her journey dealing with said comments. A lot of it comes from my own experience as a (now ex-ish) plus size girl myself and my path to living peacefully within my body. And although this work is about Y/N's relationship with the boys, I like to think that she still would've continued to grow and blossom happily on her own. Let this be something you learn from this fic, as I say right on the first chapter: You don't have to love the way you look right away, you just can't let it stop you from doing the things you want and, in a greater scale, from being happy and treated with respect.
Thank you for reading <3
P.S: Red daisies, like many red flowers, represent love and romance. Florists often use them to communicate affection to someone who doesn’t know how beautiful they are—a.k.a. beauty unknown to the possessor. 
(Fanfic masterlist)
(support me on my ko-fi)
°•. ✿ .•°
𝐏𝐚𝐫𝐭 𝐨𝐧𝐞: 𝐒𝐰𝐞𝐞𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐚𝐫𝐭
The pattern in your relationships - if you could call them that - was tiring, to say the least. Once, they might have been soul crushing, but time and repetition took away the novelty of your pain and now the endgame was a mild, resented disappointment.
It started with kindness and a gentle smile, mainly from your part. You treated anyone who gave you any smidgen of attention with the utmost sweetness, hoping your energy would be matched. And sometimes it was, for a while. Sometimes you got to be on the receiving end of a blinding smile or a casual touch and you allowed yourself to hope - no, pray -that that could be it. That someone, some modern day knight in shiny armor , saw through your looks and decided that you were deserving of love, despite societal norms,
But men had a way of setting you up for disappointment. A talent, truly.
You were tired, you decided that night. No, beyond that, you were exhausted, scarred, bitter, hopeless, resentful… You could keep going. You could list every bad feeling you had been carrying in your chest by alphabetical order or by how badly they hurt and honestly you just wanted it to stop.
Would you have to change everything about your body to be happy, you wondered watching the boy you had been seeing for a few weeks make fun of you in front of his circle of friends at the party you were both at. Would you never be allowed to be happy just the way you were?
Would you have to change everything about your body to be happy?
“Yeah, she’s nice” Junsuu said, winking suggestively at his giggling friends “if you know what I mean.” you felt your face heat up in humiliation at the renewed round of laughter “But we just don’t match, like, physically. You know, looks-wise.”
“Right” someone agreed way too enthusiastically, sending a spear through your heart “I really just can’t see you with someone like her.”
What was so outrageous about someone like you, you asked yourself and the universe. You had tried your best to compensate for any shortcomings with everything else that was expected of you: femininity, understanding, a sense of humor. Never enough, those were never even the first thing that came to mind when people thought of you.
Why bother then? If nothing you did made any difference at all, why try? If people hated your body just for existing, why not give them a reason to hate your personality as well?
“You’re right” you said out loud, drawing attention to yourself. Filled with hatred (for him, the world, the circumstances), your heart had no room to be mortified when all eyes turned to you “we don’t match.”
You watched as Junsuu’s eyes widened, clearly not expecting you to hear, much less reply “I am a big girl” you continued, words dripping with rage “And I know for a fact that there’s nothing big about you.”
You turned around to leave the room, cringing at the petty comeback, ignoring the murmurs and Junsuu’s panicked calls of your name. Walking fast, you fled the scene of the last heartbreak you would allow yourself to go through, deciding that a change was needed, but not the change everyone wanted from  you.
Despite the rumors, you didn’t turn into a huge bitch overnight, didn’t start kicking puppies or spitting on the poor. Truly, the only thing you did was establish boundaries and reevaluate the amount of respect some people deserved, but very quickly people started seeing you as some sort of villain, especially when they realized how little you cared for how they saw you. How disrespectful of you to not allow yourself to be disrespected, right?
At first, there was still an air of uncertainty about you - years and years of non-reciprocal niceties drilled into your brain, habits hard to quit. But the more you let go of those things, these tiny acts of self-aggression disguised as pleasantries and altruism, the lighter you felt; Your days became easier to get through, existing within your body felt less and less like a punishment. You had yet to reach an Instagram-worthy level of body positivity, but you had become accustomed to body neutrality. You didn’t have to love the way you looked right away, you just couldn’t let it stop you from doing the things you wanted and, in a greater scale, from being happy and treated with respect.
And respect you started to demand and much happier you became, living in relative peace and solitude - safe by a few close friends - up until your days started being pestered by seven headaches you could not seem to shake away.
—-
Jungkook was the one that saw you first.
It was 3 weeks into the semester and he finally decided it was the perfect time to start going to classes, sitting in the back and only listening to about 25% of what was being said, mind floating towards more important subjects such as the package of ramen waiting for him at home. Only mildly interested in what the professor had to teach, he couldn’t help but to be startled when everyone started getting up from their seats to shuffle around the room. “What’s going on?” he asked the guy sitting next to him.
“Professor gave us a duo assignment.” the other man said, standing up “You're with Y/N.”
“Who?”
The guy just pointed towards you with his chin, redirecting Jungkook’s attention before leaving. You were sitting a couple rows further down, hunched over your little green IPad as you wrote something with impressive velocity. Jungkook walked over to you, already mentally going over what he would have to do to charm you into doing everything on your own “Y/N?” he called and you raised your head.
You were pretty, he noticed with satisfaction, all bright eyes and lovely features, curves everywhere he looked “Yes?”
“I’m Jungkook.” he extended his hand with a casual smirk “The professor put us together for this project.”
There had been a small, but pleasant and polite smile on your face up until he said those words, replaced by pursed lips and an arched brow. “Yes, I know. We’ve had classes together for over a year now and been partnered together before.”
Uh oh. “Right” he coughed awkwardly, fumbling under your hardened stare “so, about this project…”
“We will meet once a week,” you said, straightforward as you turned your eyes back to your sticker-filled IPad “I will go over the theme and split the work evenly, so give me your number and I can text you with what you’re supposed to do.”
“Woah, woah, asking for my number already?” he said in a flirting manner, sitting on top of your table so he could be directly in front of you.
“Would you prefer it if I emailed it to you?” you asked without looking up.
“Actually, I was thinking you could help me out a bit,” he placed his finger under your chin, raising your face towards him “you know I have soccer practice and…”
You pushed his hand away “Unless you’re playing at the World Cup, I can’t see how that would be more important than your studies, so you either do your part of the assignment or get an F in it, I don’t care. I won’t do all the work for you, Jeon. Not again.”
Again? Jungkook winced, trying to remember when you had met before. Surely he would remember getting his head bitten off by a snappy, pretty thing like you, wouldn’t he? Surely your attitude would stand out to him amongst all the sweetness and compliance he received just for existing and smiling.
“Here’s my number.” you gave him a piece of paper with your digits written in gel sparkly ink “Text me when you decide if you want to pass this class. Good day.” 
You looked down again, going back to your notes, signing that the conversation was over before he even had the chance to add anything more. He jumped off the desk and stepped away, looking back to see if you were looking at him, but there wasn’t a single glance from your part.
Shit. Shit. He actually did have to pass this class, otherwise his overbearing soccer coach would kick him off the team. He stared down at your number, wondering what he would have to do to get you to cut him a little slack and forgive him for absolutely forgetting about your existence. 
“Hey, this is Jungkook” the text from an unknown number said “looking forward to us working together. We should get dinner sometime, get to know each other better.”
You read over the text once more, willing your heart to slow down its beating. Sure, Jungkook was charming and handsome, but you had seen this dance before. He would talk his way into your good graces, making you laugh and giggle until you had a four thousand word essay done with both your names in it and your texts to him would go unanswered and unseen. 
This was not your first hurtful rodeo. You put your phone away, facing down, ignoring as the poor device vibrated itself off the table with the upcoming texts.
Meanwhile, across campus, Jungkook was fuming.
“Or breakfast. We should get breakfast. I know a great place.” he tried once again, but his message was left unread. Still, he persisted.
“I have a lot of great ideas for this assignment. Don’t you want to know them?” he texted, even though he didn’t have the faintest idea on what the assignment was even about.
“You know, it’s rude to leave a guy hanging.”
“How can we do this if you won’t even text me back?”
“I thought we were in this together.”
“You know, like High School Musical.”
He kept typing out absurdity after absurdity, hoping you would dignify one with an answer. He just needed one opportunity, one opening…
His text stopped going through.
“She blocked me!” he gasped out loud.
“Who?” his roommate, Taehyung asked from where he laid on their couch, feet up on the coffee table.
“This girl in my class. We have this project together and she blocked me!”
Taehyung sent a disbelieving look his way “Were you actually planning to do the work?”
“Don’t be ridiculous. Obviously not.”
His friend rolled his eyes “Obviously not. So what’s your plan here?”
Jungkook didn’t answer, too busy looking for alternative ways to contact you. After a few minutes of research, he found your Instagram. You were cute, he noticed again, scrolling through your few posts, all relatively recent. You had a very specific style, a tasteful mix or dark and edgy with splashes of pink and bows, tight corsets under leather jackets that he couldn’t help but stare appreciatively, the flattering material clinging to your waist line and pushing your breasts up, exposing the soft freckled top of cleavage to his always hungry eyes. In your pictures, your eyes shone brightly, crinkling at the sides from your ever present smile and he could not understand why you hadn’t directed one of those to him. 
It was unsettling, to say the least, but he could not allow his annoyance to take over. He needed your help if he wanted to pass that class and if he had to use unconventional ways to get your attention, he would. 
And so, much like a little boy pulling at a girl’s braids, he started liking and spamming the comments of every single post you had.
There were whispers all around you, your worst nightmare.
You were at the school library, getting work done while drinking from your fourth cup of coffee, hands shaking due to caffeine and anxiety, your ever present friends. You tried to focus on your books and carefully written notes, but every word you could barely hear and every look you felt over your shoulder seemed to dig claws into your skin. You knew what they were saying. You heard it all the way from your dorm to your classes and couldn’t seem to escape them. 
“Did you see Jungkook’s comments on her pictures? What’s that about?”
“It’s not like there’s a lot to comment, is there?” 
“Maybe he thought it was someone else?”
“It’s probably a prank.”
“I bet he was hacked.”
Of course, why else would someone like Jungkook - a campus prince, popular soccer player, heartthrob - show interest in you? 
It hurt, but a small part of you still agreed with those mean spirited whispers. You closed your eyes, trying to even your breathing and will those thoughts away. You knew better, had learned better than to measure your value by how interested some boy was in you.
When you opened your eyes again, Jungkook was in front of you.
You barely had time to process his presence when the voices picked up volume, your skin prickling and eyes aching to remain dry. 
“What’s Jungkook doing with Fat Y/N?”
That word shouldn’t be as hurtful as it was - after all, it was just an adjective, just the current state of your body that served only to carry your thinking mind, your feeling heart. But people always said it like a curse, wielding it like a sword.
You closed your eyes again and when you opened once more, Jungkook was still there. Looking furious.
“What are they saying?”
“What they always said” you shrugged, avoiding his eyes by looking down at your papers.
Jungkook didn’t move for a while, hearing people pretend to whisper around you but it was clear that the motherfuckers wanted you to hear. Was it always like this for you, he wondered, watching as you focused on whatever book you had in front of you, hunched over with tense shoulders, your face a far cry from the luminescent one he saw on your Instagram, not a hint of that smile he wanted directed at him so unreasonably.
He couldn’t just stand there and watch you struggle to keep your posture. 
You felt him standing up and leaving more than you saw him. Good, you thought. He should leave, like everyone did, scared away by that one word that followed you around like a brand. He was probably embarrassed to be seen with you, you assumed bitterly, and there was no place in your life for people who didn’t want you proudly by your side…
Jungkook sat back in the chair in front of you and you couldn’t help but gape at the impressive bouquet of red daisies he extended towards you.
“Take it” he said, but you couldn’t move, could barely hear the furious voices around you over the roaring beat of your heart.
You… You had never gotten flowers. 
“Take it” he repeated “I almost got run over because of this, the least you can do is accept it.”
“Jungkook” you whispered, dumbfoundedly accepting the bouquet “what’s this?”
“People keep doubting I could be interested in you” he said and there was an edge to his tone you did not expect “maybe this could help clear up some rumors.”
“This is not your battle to fight” you held the flowers close to your chest carefully, looking up at him with distrust, unable to understand his motives “I’m used to this sort of thing and I don’t care about those stupid rumors.”
You were used to it? That just made Jungkook angrier. How could you be used to that sort of treatment? 
Jungkook was a lot of things - spoiled, a little lazy, sometimes a dick. But he wasn’t a bigot and he wasn’t about to stand around and let you become used to being disrespected if there was something - anything! - he could do about it “I like picking up fights”.
“Is this just pity?” you asked and he could see walls around you that stood thousands of feet tall “Is this because of that stupid assignment? Because I’m not going to do all the work just because you got me some flowers…” 
He raised his hands and smiled at you “Don’t worry, sweetheart, I’ll do my work” he said, a new goal in mind as he saw you recoil from him with eyes filled with wariness like a suspicious kitten “You said once a week, right? How’s friday for you?” 
You still clung to your bouquet like a lifeline “That works, I guess.”
“Great!” he clapped loudly, standing up and catching the eye of those around him “I’ll see you around, sweetheart.”
“Don’t call me sweetheart” you mumbled, but he pretended not to hear as he crossed the table around to your side, quickly leaving a kiss to your heated cheek before you had the chance to react.
“Alright, sweetheart, I’ll see you around” he said, making sure everyone in the library could hear him “do me a favor and unblock me, ok?”
You flipped him off, both for stealing a kiss and that stupid nickname, but he just laughed it off.
“That’s my girl” he said and the library erupted in renewed whispers.
°•. ✿ .•°
𝐌𝐲 𝐭𝐚𝐠𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭𝐬 𝐚𝐫𝐞 𝐨𝐩𝐞𝐧! 𝐂𝐥𝐢𝐜𝐤 𝐡𝐞𝐫𝐞 𝐭𝐨 𝐛𝐞 𝐚𝐝𝐝𝐞𝐝
°•. ✿ .•°
[Red Daisies taglist: @purplelady85 ]
[Permanent taglist: @imknewattis ; @dreamamubarak ; @onlythebest-106 ; @betysotelo18 ; @havetaeminforbreakfast ; @uno7 ; @chimchimmarie ; @anaya123world ; @junecat18 ; @kayleefriedchicken ; @jkselcouth ; @ivrose21 ; @svnbangtansworld ]
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sharkorok · 2 years ago
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enha + reunions
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summary: enhypen seeing their s/o after a long time!! :)
genre/tw: fluff, sappy fluff, crying, established relationship, idol!enhypen and reader doesn’t have a specified occupation, cursing, cute!!
a/n: mom made me pancakes guys everything is good
———
heeseung
-picks you up from the airport and does that thing where you run into his arms and he picks you up and spins you around GAWDDDD
-so happy to see you he’s peppering kisses all over your face but he’s still like “did you miss me? I bet you missed me hm?”
-has the prettiest smile on his face while you guys are on your way home, asks if you were alright during your trip and if everything went well, physically cannot bring himself to stop holding your hand or touching you somehow because he has you back and he won’t let you go!!
-I’m physically nauseous with how much he’s all over you like it’s almost overwhelming but he can’t help himself from being heads over heels for you
-“tell me you missed me as much as I missed you” mf you missed him more 😭😭
-if you’re the type to cry he’ll laugh while holding you, stroking your hair and promising you you guys are gonna be together again for a long long long time
other members below :)
jay
-honestly the only thing you were missing when he was gone was him physically, he literally would never miss a second to call or text you or send you money to go on “shopping” dates or FaceTime you before bed when he could-
-he got home super late and was so ready to crawl into bed and fall asleep, especially with YOUUU
-he saw you, and you lazily peeked up and smiled before outstretching your arms and gesturing for him to come and cuddle and he just melts. he hates being away from you but when he comes home to this it’s suddenly all so worth it
-buries his face in the crook of your neck and almost immediately falls asleep because he’s just so safe and comfy with you
-“I missed you so much, baby.” “I missed you too.”
-had the best sleep since he left you <3
-refuses to let you go or wake up in the morning so you better clear the next day when he gets home because u r stuck w that man!! (and ur not complaining)
jake
-“my baby’s home!!”
-all giggly and jumps to be all over you in a second, even if it’s in public he’s giving you such a phat kiss in an instant <3
-prompts you to tell him everything while he was gone, and in return he does the same, filling in with every detail and showing you all the photos he took of layla and him because he was so lonely without you :,)
-jay’s part made me lowkey sleepy but for you you’re gonna be staying up because Jake needs to talk to you and hold you and just be with you every second when you come back
-and yea he’ll wake you up unless you seriously need some sleep but you better stay up for him >:/
-I feel like he’s clingy but in the way he’s so reliant on you as a part of his daily routine and so he just feels like a part of him is missing when you’re gone, and now you’re back!!
sunghoon
-“wowww ok y/n so you didn’t get me the live band and sculpture of us kissing made from roses or even a six foot teddy bear covered in your perfume/cologne?? The bare minimum?”
-he’s mostly joking because he lowkey melts inside the second he sees you, showering you with souvenirs and gifts he picked up while he was away, telling you stories of everything he did and got to do
-“were you eating right? everything alright while I was gone?” acting like he didn’t text you good morning every. single. time. smh!!
-probably slows down and gets nervous that you think he didn’t actually miss you so he pulls you into his arms reaaaally tight out of nowhere and is like “I missed you yknow” but you better say it back or he’ll get sassy on you!!
-honestly takes a whole day off so he can catch up with you and just spend time with you since he was deprived of his y/n <3
sunoo
-gets so hype when he sees you again!! he’s so giddy and silly and I love him sm dude it’s not funny
-kisses your forehead/cheek when he sees you again, at home he’ll give you an actual kiss :>
-“pls don’t ever leave me again I couldn’t stand being w those buffoons for that long” “…?” “yknow my members?”
-makes you tell him everything and if you took photos he’ll be staring super duper intently at each and every one of them helping you dissect each one
-“no your hair looks better here post this”, he comments as he’s the small spoon and your head is rested on the top of his SOBS MY EYES OUT REALLY HARD 🤣🤣
-tells you every single story that happened when you were gone in excruciating detail and he’ll pretend to be offended once you fall asleep but he’ll tuck the two of you in, give you a kiss on your forehead and whisper, “I missed you so much”
jungwon
-I feel like he would cry in private especially if it was a really long trip
-apologizes for being emotional like STFU DONT CRY BBYYYY 😭😭😭, and he just wants to hold you and never let go so you guys aren’t apart ever again!!
-“were you good? you better have been!! tell me everything that happened while I was gone ok? :))” and he gladly listens and you two exchange stories but the entire time he’s looking at you so fondly you feel like you’re falling in love all over again
-“why are you looking at me like that won?” “I just missed you so much.”
-you bet ur ass he’s all over you for the next week, he feels so safe around you and not having you was like not having oxygen to breathe but in a healthy non toxic way
-gets all giggly and shy if you say how much you missed him too :,)
riki
-“almost died without you” -him the second he sees you again
-he’s not very loud about it because he can feel awkward expressing his emotions but holy fuck he never knew he could experience longing this bad
-the second he sees you again it feels like he got hit by a truck in the best sense of the phrase, he holds your hand so tightly you lose circulation you think
-“shh I know you missed me too” but that’s just because he feels embarrassed getting all sappy in public T-T, at home he’s letting himself get wrapped up in your arms and lazily talking about how lame it was to not have you around
-“I literally was not gonna make it another day let’s be fr here” “you’re so dramatic niki” “only for you y/n”
-melts when you press a little kiss to his forehead before bed the night you or him gets back, talking about how you two will be together for as long as possible <3333
-SOBS SO HARD U GUYS R SO CUTE *dies*
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raitonsfw · 1 year ago
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𝚜𝚘𝚊𝚙 𝚕𝚊𝚟𝚒𝚜𝚑𝚎𝚜 𝚢𝚘𝚞𝚛 𝚝𝚘𝚗𝚐𝚞𝚎 | 𝚐𝚎𝚝𝚘 𝚜𝚞𝚐𝚞𝚛𝚞
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synopsis: Geto had you practically seated against his face, with his tongue stretched within you in the small keep of the shower and your mind couldn't muster up enough willpower to care about anything else...
warnings: 18+ mdni, smut, fem!reader, boyfriend!geto, shower cunnilingus, fingering, slight face riding, masturbation (geto), nipple piercings (reader has them), breast play, slight body worship, just a drabble, happy suguru bc we desperately need that atm.
a/n: idk, i wrote this in two hours with a blaring headache cuz i had gotten out of the shower and had geto brainrot. google docs also did not like Geto's name, so if his name is spelled like Ghetto instead (blame it on the drive) anywho, not proofread, enjoy my mistakes! wc: 1k. m.list
divider credit: @benkeibear
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“S-Sugu…” You whined out as your foot threatened to slip off the tub mat that wedged itself in the shower, your hands buried into his damp slicked black hair. You adored yet hated the way it snaked down his back, shielding his broad tanned muscles from further view. Geto had two fingers plunged in you as he sucked against your clit with expertise, his hands braced against the backs of your thighs– pulling you onto his face enough that you practically sat on it. 
You could barely hold onto the shower bar that leveled the side of the tub, soap slick in your palms as they ran down it with little to no grip. Your legs honestly felt like they were about to give out as Geto lapped inside you swiftly, small hums and moans escaping him that vibrated against your tight cunt.
You wished you could hear him, but the shower was running steadily down his backside, pouring incessant warm water down the drain and it was too loud in the small confines of the shower. The tiles cramped the two of you in and there was nowhere to hide as his nose pressed into your bud and he inhaled sharply for some air, pulling you off softly. 
“Feeling good, baby?” He breathed out, his dark eyes traveling up your body and he pressed a few kisses into the crevice of your thigh and tummy, bruising a light mark. You let out a loud whine in response, unable to say much else as your tongue was slick with nothing but your desperation. You were afraid if you spoke, your voice would fail and he’d pry it out of you. Geto was very persistent with that, always wanting you to use your words… One time he even fucked them out of you– which in hindsight didn’t seem like an awful idea.
His tongue was back in you before you could think of a proper response for him, fucking in and out earnestly and you arched your back off the tiles into his warm mouth. His fingers found themselves back inside your wetness, curling upwards right against your sweet spot within a matter of seconds and you couldn’t help the loud moan that spilled from your lips.
Your jaw slackened and your eyes slipped shut when you felt your orgasm building against the pit of your tummy, swirling to the thought of Geto kneeling beneath you. You took one look down towards him and his eyes had gleamed up at you quickly before fluttering closed again, completely enraptured by the taste of your arousal. His eyebrows knitted together and you knew where his other hand went as he grunted into your cunt with fervor, slicking up and down his cock to relieve some of the ache.
His cock weeped at the sight of you, precum dripping within the slips of his fingers as he played with himself. Soap bubbles plastered the base of it and he swiped his thumb over the tip as you started to grind against his tongue. Geto groaned into you, the thick taste of your arousal sending chills down his spine. You tasted so fucking good to him, it was undoubtedly you… the best thing he’s ever tasted by far.
He pumped himself faster in time with his fingers next to his pointed tongue, your hands grasping as much of his long hair as you could. You pulled it harshly and he faltered slightly, cumming into his hand without warning– and you didn’t need to know, the water washing it away. 
You whimpered out his name through his clouded orgasm, a quiet ‘keep going, Suguru…please’, and he keened into you; of course he couldn’t leave you hanging by a thread.
“Fuck, Sugu– Right there–!” You cried out as his calloused fingers worked you over quicker now, his mouth sucking and nipping gently against your clit. You felt Geto’s strong hands grasp at the swell of your ass to hold you up again, thumbing over the plushness of it whilst squeezing gently. You shuddered into his touch, finally falling apart against his mouth.
You rolled your hips against his mouth as he lapped at your juices, his fingers trailing up towards your hardened nipples. Sinful piercings poked through them and he toyed with the bars a bit as he stood back up to his full height once you had recollected yourself. You whined into the kiss he placed against your lips, shakily holding onto his shoulders to steady yourself; until he flicked at your nipple piercing rather harshly.
“Suguru–!” You squealed, smacking him on the shoulder and he laughed against your lips with an enlightened smile. Pleasure and pain raced through your budded nipple, tingling with the aftermath of his fingers and he bent down to suck it into his mouth as an apology. You whined as his teeth grazed against it, pulling lightly before planting a wet kiss against it.
His lips simpered over the other, taking it into his mouth and toying with it. Geto purred into your skin as your hands threaded back into his hair, his tongue laving against the metal bar. Only when you squirmed against him, trying to inadvertently push him away, did he let go with a soft pop, a thin strand of saliva dribbling from his lips to your nipple.
A shiver overtook your body as you realized how damn cold it was on the tiled side of the shower, not much help coming from Geto as he blocked the entire water flow with his body. But thankfully he noticed– the wonderful boyfriend that he was, of course he would never let you freeze to death. You were relieved when he uttered the words, “Move towards the front of the shower, honey. You must be freezing.” 
Geto pulled you in front of him, letting you rinse off in the warmth of the water. You reveled in the temperature as he made sure all of the shampoo was washed out from the strands of your hair and the frame of your body. His fingers massaged conditioner into the ends of your hair and you leaned into him lovingly, your back flush with his chest and you glanced up at him with a warm smile. 
Which he happily returned.
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a/n: wanna get tagged in future writing posts? join my taglist!
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nanazta · 8 days ago
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YOU BREAK UP WITH THEM (bnha)
“One day, I will stop falling in love with you Some day, someone will like me like I like you” let you break my heart again, laufey
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Katsuki
He wouldn't believe it at first. He would get agitated and nervous (making him seem aggressive, but he is just desperate throwing arguments) and point out yr mistakes (since you mentioned his), finally he would leave cursing and slamming the door.
He would be childish. Sometimes typing messages talking about how you made a mistake in the relationship and that it was also your fault, sometimes apologizing (he would delete everything in the end and not send it).
If you were in the same place, he would turn to pout, or check you out of the corner of his eyes.
he would only vent to Krishima, the fact that he hated how he seemed the only one to blame, or admitting guilt (he would really be bipolar, he doesn't want people to think badly of you, and at the same time he wants them to convince him that he's not wrong) .
I would miss your "boring" touch and the "idiocy" you say.
Iida
"Are you sure?"
Honestly, it would take him a while to digest this.
The first person he would talk to would be Izuku while they were drinking (he clearly cried).
He would use the excuse that you forgot clothes at his house to see you (and try for a possible reconciliation).
“Miss u :(“
He had really gotten used to you in his routine, and this sudden loss made him feel lost and depressed.
Denki
He didn't believe it at first either.
"Stop it babe".
He would kind of have a blank head, but when he processed it, he would say that he could change and ask for another chance (desperately).
After all the arguing, he would just turn away (he was crying) and wait for you to leave (to start crying again).
He would try to be mature by talking to you normally, but in the end it would always end with him weighing the mood asking for another chance.
He would try to change and impress you.
"I miss my ex" :)))
Izuku
"I don't understand...why?"
He would try to convince you to try again, but if you didn't accept he would stop.
He would be like a madman trying to find a way to get closer again (not chasing you).
He would also make a list of pros to argue if he saw you.
He would vent to his friends (Iida and Shoto probably).
He would become more thoughtful and discouraged, he would also wonder if it was all his fault.
Shoto
He would ask a lot of questions and also say that he would try to change. As he realized the situation, he would become a little exalted(nervousness).
“Please...just dont leave, ok?”
You were his safe haven, so this loss kind of made him break down somehow.
He would try everything to get you back, and would probably buy you lots of flowers.
He would take you out for something to eat and try to reconcile, "I'll give you some time to think, just take it calmly.." he would say.
Insomnia due to so many thoughts circulating in his head.
He would ask his sister for tips.
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scarlethexelove · 4 months ago
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To Hell And Back
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Pairing: Angel!Wanda x Demon!Reader
Word Count: 1485
Warnings: Kidnapping (Wanda), Demon!Ex, Stabbing (Non descriptive), Torture (Non descriptive), Reader beating the shit out of Demon!Ex, Angst, Comfort, Uhhh idk
Pt 1, Prequal
A/n: More Angel!Wanda and Demon!Reader say what. This is what would happen if Wanda is kidnapped and taken to Hell. Reader goes a bit crazy. Thank you again to @wandamaximoffsbadgirl indulging in my love for these 2. Honestly I got a little lazy and used a gif.
NO ONE IS PERMITTED TO STEAL, COPY, OR REBLOG MY WORK AS THEIR OWN
You knew something was wrong when you hadn't heard from Wanda all day. Then, it came through an unknown number. A picture of Wanda, tied up, beaten, and in hell. All of the air in your lungs escapes when you see her. What was once beautifully white and soft, her wings dirtied with blood and dirt. You can feel the rage building within you. You had to go find her. Your tail and horns coming out. Your tail flicks back and forth as your eyes shift to a cold blue. You don't think as you march out of your home. 
You know a hidden portal is situated just a few miles from your home. You take off running as fast as you can in the direction of the portal. Leafs crunch under your feet as you make your way through the woods until you reach a cave. The cave is damp and musty and mostly dark until you see the flickering light of the portal. You take no time jumping through.
As you come out the other side, you look around, getting your bearings. You know this place. It may have been hundreds of years since you've seen it, but it's familiar. You pull your phone out and examine the photo again. Hoping a second look gives you a clue on where in hell Wanda could be. You look but it looks the same as any other part of hell, bleak and dreary. You give up on looking at the photo and instead start searching. You felt your blood boiling over and it wasn't from the heat.
Anger that you suppressed for hundreds of years hidden underneath the surface. You stalk through the area looking for any sign of Wanda. The underworld is vast with many twists and turns. It soon feels like you have been searching for hours. Hope is dwindling. What if you never find Wanda? What if you're too late? 
You feel like you'll never find her when you feel it, feel her. You spin in the direction you're being pulled and run, faster than you thought possible. The feeling gets stronger the closer you get. The anger that had been growing slowly morphs into relief. You can feel her. You can still feel her. Your body collides with the door where the pull is the strongest. The door shatters as you stumble through.
When you see her, you can feel the rage bubbling over. You shift your focus to the demon in the room. Eyes narrowing and head tilting to the side. Of course it was your ex. She always hated you for leaving all this behind, and getting together with Wanda must have been her final straw. Without so much as a thought, you lunge at her. She's able to dodge you. You turn on your heels. Your eyes flash that cold blue. “Delphine.” You growl. This time, you're quicker as you're able to tap into all the rage you've consumed. Your body collides with hers, sending her flying into the far wall. 
Delphine seems to be knocked out, giving you the chance to run to Wanda. “Wands.” Your voice cracks. Her eyes shift to yours. She looks up at you, battered and bruised. “You must have put up one hell of a fight, angel.” You gently stroke your thumb of a bruise on her cheek. 
“Wasn't gonna let some shitty demon just take me.” Wanda smirks at you, another wince coming out.
“Let's get you down, baby.” You can still feel the rage just below the surface, but your Wanda is more important. You're able to release Wanda, catching her in your arms before she collapses. 
“Y/n watch out!” Wanda yells. You catch a glimpse of Delphine out of the corner of your eye. You're able to push Wanda out of the way before feeling a sharp pain in your back. 
You cough up blood. The rage fueling you once again, your voice deepening. “You never did know when to quit.” You turn quickly, getting into it with Delphine. Blows exchanged as you manage to get on top. Keeping her down. Your hand wraps around her throat as you start to use your grip on her throat to slam her head into the ground. But her hand is able to snake around, digging her finger into the wound. You cry out in pain, giving her a chance to gain control again. 
“You're mine.” Delphine seethes.
“You're fucking insane if you think I'm yours. I wasn't even yours when we were together!” You spit back at her. The white hot pain from your wound screaming at you. Your fist connects with her face. A bloody sinister grin spreads across her face. Which sends you into a rage. You continue to land blow after blow. She isn't able to stop you. Your eyes flicker from blue to red. Wanda watches as the tips of your horns and tails start to stain black. 
Wanda doesn't think about it as she runs forward. “Y/n!” She practically crashes into you. “Stop, please...this isn't you...you aren't like these demons. Don't let them take that from you.” You looked back at her over your shoulder. You see the tears run down her face, voice cracking. “Please Y/n…”
The sight of your tail passes in your vision. The blackened tip paired with Delphine coughing up blood terrifies you.  You crawl back getting as far away from Wanda and Delphine. Tears spring to your eyes as you look down. Your hands stained red start to shake. “No! No! No! No!” Panic fills your voice, the tears that threatened to fall now cascading down your cheeks. This isn't you. This is everything you didn't want to be. You worked so hard to not be This. To be like them. You wanted to help people not hurt...you certainly didn't want to kill anyone.
“Detka?” Wanda moves closer to you, you shake your head. 
“N-No, get away from me. I-I don't want to hurt you.” Your voice breaks as you pull your knees to your chest. You wrap your arms around yourself as you continuously mutter, I'm sorry. Wanda's heart absolutely breaks seeing you like this. Even though you've told her to get away, that's the last thing she's about to do. Instead she pulls you into a hug, her wings coming out to wrap around you just like your first date. 
You sob into Wanda's chest as she holds you. You should be the one comforting her, but here you are. She shushes you as she holds you tight. She watches as the black slowly fades back to white. “I'm sorry Wands.” You choked out, and she shushes you. 
“No detka it's okay. What just happened is different. You were protecting me. If it meant protecting you I'd do the same thing.” Wanda tells you. You sniffle as you look up at her. Though beaten and bruised, she is still the most beautiful woman you have ever seen. She sees how your eyes shift back to blue before they go back to your normal color. 
Before the words come out of your mouth, Wanda blasts Delphine back in a white light. She hits the wall hard, knocking her unconscious or at least that is what you think. Wanda lifts you in her arms, letting her wings spread out. “Let's go home detka.”
“I'm the one who should be carrying you.” You whine a little. 
Wanda chuckles and then winces slightly. “Sweetheart, you've been stabbed. Also, I don't see you with any wings.” You pout, thinking about it, and grumble a bit. “That's what I thought.” Wanda flapped her wings. “You're gonna have to guide me back, though.” Wanda says with a smirk. You giggle a bit before getting both of you out of hell. 
By the time you're home both of you are exhausted. Wanda obviously fusses over getting you patched up first, having seen the blood stain on her wings. When she is done she finally lets you help her before you both get cleaned up. Crawling into bed and curling up together. 
You end up falling asleep first. Wanda lets her wing stay around you, propped up on her side. She gently strokes your face, moving some hair out of the way. She kisses your forehead, letting her lips linger there. “I love you so much, my little devil.” She pulls back to look at the peaceful look on your face. "I'd kill anyone who dared stand between us. God or Satan couldn't stop me. If it meant keeping you with me, I'd do it without a second thought.” She strokes your cheek. 
Wanda uses her wings to pull you closer, wrapping her arms around you tightly. Her wings provide a safe cocoon as she settles in. Soon she follows you into the land of dreams. Peacefully drifting off holding you tight.
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frostbitedoesstuff · 6 months ago
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I wanted to make this post not to address anyone in particular, but just for the sake of getting it off my mind.
I absolutely hate it when people in the Honkai fandom say that Welt is a terrible father and/or abandoned his family. The truth is, Welt loves his family so, so much, and still cares about them deeply even though he’s far away. There is clear and irrefutable evidence of this.
When you talk to Welt on the Express, you have the option to ask him about his friends. This is his response.
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Here, he acknowledges that there are people waiting for him back home, and says that at some point prior to the game’s events, he asked Herta to send a signal to his home in hopes of being able to tell his family that he’s safe, and perhaps even tell them of his whereabouts (though that’s just an assumption on my end.)
When the Express is about to leave for the Xianzhou Loufu, if you talk to Welt, you can ask him what planet he would like to go to. This is his response.
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Notice how his immediate answer to where he wants to go is home, as well as the word he uses to describe the fact that he cannot do so: sadly. He really could have said anywhere else, especially because he likely knew that probably wasn’t what the Trailblazer meant when they asked that question, but no. He answers honestly, and his honest answer is that he wants to go home.
This next section will have spoilers for the Penacony quest line, so proceed with caution.
For this next example, we’ll need some background information. What exactly is Ena’s Dream? Well, to explain in simple terms, Ena’s Dream is an escapist dream state meant to simulate what someone would view to be an ideal reality. The specifics of the dream varies from person to person, because each person has different desires, different ideals, different wants, different needs. But Ena’s Dream is meant to simulate what the individual TRULY desires, no matter how unrealistic or outlandish it may be.
In 2.3, if you talk to Welt, you can ask him what he saw in Ena’s Dream. This is his response.
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In Ena’s dream, he goes home and reunites with his family. Do you understand what that means?
What Welt truly desires, more than anything else, is to find a way back home. What he saw in Ena’s Dream is blatant proof.
Another thing I’d like to draw attention to is how he says that realizing it was a dream was a “bitter truth.” The fact that he still had the Astral Express wasn’t enough for him to describe it as “bittersweet.” It was just bitter.
(No more Penacony spoilers from here on out)
Speaking of the Astral Express, I’d like to bring up something regarding not only Welt’s relationship with them, but the entirety of Star Rail’s world as a whole.
Something about Welt’s character that I really love is his ability to embrace the world around him and the people in it, DESPITE the fact that he also misses his home.
He’s engrossed himself deeply in the history and general ins and outs of Star Rail’s universe, to the point where whenever the Trailblazer finds something they don’t recognize, they ask Welt, and he can always provide a detailed answer.
Additionally, Welt has formed a strong familial relationship with the members of the Astral Express, and has a strong desire to keep them safe. For example, during the Jarilo-VI quest line, Welt expresses a clear desire to intervene when he sees the intensity of the situation Trailblazer, March, and Dan Heng are in, and when they return, Welt outright admits that there were more than a few times where he felt legitimate distress, making an off handed comment about having to “stop worrying so much.”
This is something that I feel like some people don’t understand; Welt can love this world and his home world simultaneously, and he does. Just because he isn’t constantly stressing out about going home and refusing to make connections out of fear of getting attached doesn’t mean that he isn’t thinking about his home or doesn’t want to find a way to go back.
I believe that the solution Welt wants is to have the best of both worlds, not to completely abandon one for the other. This is why his desired reality of finding a way home and him hoping that his journey with the Astral Express never ends can exist side by side. He truly does want both, and in the ideal ending to his story, he should be able to have both (at least in my opinion.)
I’ve never even played HI3, but I know of Welt’s lore and he is my favorite character in HSR, so I hate it when people mischaracterize him, ESPECIALLY when it comes to this. I hope that by writing this character analysis, this will help people understand him better, and show the people that think he doesn’t love his family that they are blatantly wrong. If you know someone who thinks that, please consider showing them this post.
(One last thing! If you read this entire analysis, then clearly you must like Star Rail. If you’re looking for more content, I’d like to make you aware that as of posting this, I have a Sampard and Astral Express chatfic, as well as a blog where I post Star Rail fanart (frostbitedoesfanart)! Please check them out if you have the time, and thanks for listening to me ramble <3)
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holdmymallowsweet · 6 months ago
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What are you doing here? 01
Ominis Gaunt x f!MC Word count: 4328, properly tagged on AO3
Chapter summary: Falling right between the awkwardness of their first encounter outside the Undercroft and their jaunt into the Scriptorium, Ominis and the new fifth year have an innocuous little meet up in the library. 
a/n: I’ve always wondered why Mc would offer to talk to Ominis about the Scriptorium, when their last interaction outside the Undercroft was so hostile, and I figured there could have been another conversation in between- not anything deep or meaningful, just a little chat that made it clear that they don’t hate each other. So that’s what this is, and although it’s now the first chapter/prologue of a slow-burn longfic, it was originally a oneshot and can still be read as such, if you prefer. Enjoy! And many, many thanks to @myokk for encouraging me to finally post this, you're the best ❤️
Masterlist || Chapter 02
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Chapter 01 - Invitation
Sending her that letter might have been a mistake.
Ominis Gaunt had been sitting in the library for hours now, waiting for someone who, he now realised, in all likelihood would not come.
“I heard you running around aimlessly in the defence against the dark arts tower again today. If you enjoy my company that much, perhaps you would like to join me in the library this evening. I’ll wait.”
It was supposed to be a playful way of telling her he was not angry anymore, a sort of peace offering after he had yelled at her outside the Undercroft. 
It was only after he’d sent the letter that he realised it probably sounded presumptuous and rude beyond belief. Words on parchment couldn’t tell the reader what tone of voice they’d like to be read in, at least not until someone invented a spell for that, but it was too late to take it back.
He sighed. Honestly, he could not remember what possessed him to write the blasted thing in the first place. It had been a whim, a result of his frustration and loneliness when he heard he’d be spending another evening alone because Sebastian had gotten himself detention again. He was not usually that bold, and she was practically a stranger.
They did happen to share a best friend in Sebastian though, so one could hardly blame him for trying to get to know her. In fact, it might be long overdue.
At least that was the excuse he’d use if anyone asked. Or the one he told himself, to be honest.
The truth was, she intrigued him. It took him some time to realise it, but now that he did, he couldn’t let go of the feeling. If Sebastian was to be believed, she was curious about him too, or at least she had been, for a fleeting moment- before his temper got the better of him and he took his frustrations about Sebastian’s betrayal out on her.
Ominis sighed again and ran his hand through his hair.
Someone from across the table shushed him, and his face twitched in slight annoyance.
Oh, he really hoped they’d be gone by the time she showed up, whoever they were.
If she showed up.
By now, it seemed more likely that he’d stay here sulking by his lonesome until it was time to walk back to the dungeons, perhaps facing a bemused Sebastian who’d already know where he’d been. The two of them seemed incapable of keeping secrets from one another, after all.
That would ultimately be the proper punishment for his unreasonable jealousy, her rejection delivered by his best friend.
He’d come to the library with every intention of writing the assigned essay for Herbology, determined not to care too much about whether she’d take him up on his invitation, but it was a lost cause. His self-spelling quill wouldn’t work properly unless he concentrated on the precise words he wanted to put on the parchment, but with his head filled with thoughts of the new fifth year and the undefined nature of whatever relationship they did or didn’t have, all he had managed to write so far was an embarrassing mess.
Ominis considered writing with his own hand, but thought better of it. He could, of course. He’d make notes or short letters without his enchanted quill regularly, but writing an entire essay without being able to tell when the lines would inadvertently run into one another was a daunting task. He’d have to use twice as much parchment as anyone else, and he already felt sorry for Professor Garlick, if she’d have to decipher the mess.
Finally, he decided to just give it up. The door opened, and once again, he strained his ears. He was able to recognize her footsteps by now. Not her, just some unfortunate chap getting chewed out by Madam Scribner for returning his books late.
He was starting to feel ridiculous.
It felt like hours since he’d hurried through the castle, almost slipping on the wet fallen leaves covering the stairs when he left the owlery. Heart thumping with excitement, he’d even made sure to sit at a table where he would, hopefully, be seen by her as soon as she walked in, but far enough away from the librarian to have a conversation without being reprimanded for disturbing the peace and quiet.
Actually, if he hadn’t been so concerned that she might not see him and leave, or that he might miss her coming in, he would have preferred a table in the farthest corner on the second floor, away from prying eyes. She was still the talk of the school and gathered attention wherever she went, and “What is she doing with Gaunt?” was not something he wanted to hear whispered in the corridors.
Thankfully, it was one of the last warm and sunny days before the autumn chill fully set in, so most students were happy to make the most of it and took their work outside. Even Cressida Blume still seemed determined to let Madam Scribner forget her face (not that she would), and he hadn’t heard any other classmate of theirs either. 
Sebastian’s detention was pointless busy work as usual- scrubbing or cleaning or something of the sort. Truthfully, Ominis had ceased to pay attention when his friend complained about his punishments long ago. Whatever it was, it kept him far away from the library- no one was foolish enough to try and “punish” Sebastian by letting him get his hands on even more books.
Not that it mattered whether they knew the curious onlookers or not. She was still the object of everyone’s interest and admiration, and with the way things were going, that wasn’t likely to change anytime soon. Not while she was so eager and endearing, always willing to drop everything the second someone needed something from her.
Right, it wasn’t like her to deny a request from a fellow student. She’d usually jump at the chance to do someone a favour, even if it came from someone she’d never seen before, even if it was much more bothersome than studying in the library for an hour or two.
So why wasn’t she here?
She wouldn’t have shown anyone his letter, would she? Unless she didn’t have to, if the owl reached her at an inopportune time, Merlin knows who else might have read it over her shoulder.
Ominis could imagine it, them sitting in a circle in the Hufflepuff girl’s dormitory, passing his letter around, seemingly teasing her about it in a playful attempt to get her to be wary of him. Until her curiosity would get the better of her and she’d ask them why precisely they found him so disagreeable. He shuddered. 
According to Sebastian, she already knew. She knew, and didn’t care. 
According to Sebastian, she also felt apologetic and regretful about their last encounter, much like him.
And if that was the truth- he couldn’t be entirely sure it was, but if it was, why wasn’t she here? Ominis tapped his quill against the parchment, piercing tiny holes into it and probably soaking the table underneath with ink. 
He was slowly but surely getting annoyed now. If she was as regretful about invading the Undercroft as Sebastian had made it seem, she should have pounced at the chance to meet up with him and make things right.
Of course, that had been weeks ago, so she might have gotten over it by now. Still, he wasn’t good enough for her to at least show up and quietly do her homework on the opposite side of the table? It wasn’t as if she didn’t have any work to do. She always did, with all the extra assignments the Professors threw at her to help her catch up, and even if by some miracle she didn’t, it wouldn’t hurt her to simply study, for once.
She could have come. Ominis frowned. Unless she actually couldn’t.
Notorious troublemaker and rule breaker that she was, he’d often half jokingly wondered when her recklessness would come to bite her in the arse, only it wasn’t unthinkable, was it?
Her duelling skills didn’t make her invincible, it was entirely possible that she was lying dead, or dying, somewhere on the cold forest floor. Small animals and insects already crawling under her robes and the scarf she always insisted on wearing, slowly devouring her corpse while a confused owl pecked at her, trying to get her cold hands to take his stupid, embarrassing letter. 
Ominis took a deep, steadying breath in an attempt to squash the slowly rising dread.
Stop it. She was  fine, she had other things to do, or she thought she was in trouble with him again and didn’t feel like being chastised and insulted all evening. It was annoying that she didn’t even want to find out what he wanted from her- nothing, really, except perhaps a chance to clear the air- but he had no right to complain, he was the one who messed things up.
And his annoyance was merely a way to mask his fear of rejection.
He slumped down, his forehead hitting the table with a soft thud. Ears filled with the sounds of soft footsteps, turned pages and scratching quills, ink from his quill staining his fingertips but nothing to really occupy his mind in her stead.
Why couldn’t he have spent a few more minutes to rewrite that letter, although one could barely call it a letter- the note, why couldn’t he have tried to sound a bit more friendly and inviting? Then again, even a second longer might have caused him to rethink the whole thing, keeping him from sending it at all.
All things considered, that would have been a blessing in disguise, saving him from making an absolute fool of himself.
He’d heard it countless times from the Sallow twins, trying to console him in his moments of self-doubt; that he was a good person, a good friend, that he was fun to be with, but it’s not like she’d ever seen that side of him.
The two of them would make an odd, unlikely combination, but he wanted to get to know her, be near her. His invitation had been a final act of desperation- or perhaps insanity- a desire to hold on to the strange but comforting, tender feeling that rose in his chest whenever he heard her voice in class or her footsteps in the hallways nowadays.
At the very least, he wanted to make sure there was no lingering resentment between them.
The library door opened again, and the next sound to reach his ears suddenly made his head feel blissfully empty. 
It was her voice, and he instantly straightened his back and cocked his head to the side to listen better as she greeted the librarian.
She made her way through the library, with eager steps, drawing closer until he could smell her signature scent, then until he could hear her breathing. Ominis noticed she was slightly out of breath.
Had she been in a hurry?
To meet him?
In spite of the confusion, the sick feeling inside him dissolved almost instantly, all thoughts of why she made him wait only to show up hours later forgotten. She cared. She cared at least enough to give him a bit of her time.
“Hello, Ominis,” she said.
He knew she wasn’t one for formalities, calling all of her classmates by their first name without invitation. 
What surprised him more was the lack of any bitterness or trepidation he’d expected to hear in her voice, instead, she sounded cheerful, excited, almost.
“There you are. Care to sit down?” he replied, trying his best to sound unbothered while ignoring the sudden flutter of nervousness in his stomach. The scraping of the chair from across the table told him she did.
“I hope I didn’t keep you waiting, I’m really sorry.”
Are you?
She sounded genuinely apologetic. Suddenly he realised, with another bout of nerves, that this would be the first time they actually had a proper conversation. Without any shouting. She was here for no other reason than to spend time with him, and more importantly, because he asked her to.
Ominis took perhaps a bit too long to answer, but she didn’t seem to notice. It sounded like she was busy taking her textbooks out.
“It’s all right. It’s not like I was just wasting time waiting for you, I was quite busy.” It was almost not a ridiculous lie, considering he’d been busy indeed, desperately craving her company, making a mess of his homework, hoping she’d care enough to show up. He hoped she wouldn’t think too hard about the messy, half empty parchments littering the table. 
It wouldn’t be fair to be upset about it. After all, he invited her on short notice and they never agreed on a time to meet.
“I left as soon as I got your owl, but it took me a while to get here,” she sighed, casually pushing aside his mess on the table to make space for her own.
Why? Where have you been?
Obviously not on school grounds.
“Why would that be?” he said, trying his best to sound nonchalant.
“I was near Aranshire.”
“Aranshire? What were you up to over there?” He raised his eyebrow. He knew it was one of the Hamlets, the one close to Hogsmeade station, if he wasn’t mistaken, but he couldn’t judge exactly how far away from the castle it was.
Oh, he had a bad feeling about this, and she, ever so perceptive, noticed.
“Nothing to be concerned about.” she said airily.
She doesn’t trust me.
Ominis knew he shouldn’t hold it against her. They barely knew each other, after all, and yet he couldn’t help the tiny stab of annoyance as she was lying to him yet again. If it had been Sebastian, she would have told him. 
Then again, Sebastian had never threatened to get her in trouble with the Headmaster.
“Anyway, on my way back something came up and I looked a bit dishevelled by the end of it, and it took me a while to sort that out. That’s why I’m late. I really am sorry.”
“You looked… dishevelled?”
She hummed in agreement, taking a moment to shuffle around pieces of parchment before answering properly. “Just a bit.”
“You do know I wouldn’t be able to tell,” he said with a smirk.
She laughed, and Ominis was almost disturbed by how much he liked the sound of it.
“Fair enough, I suppose, but others would, and I wouldn‘t want to give anyone a reason to stare, or… talk more about me than they already do.”
Ominis tensed. He’d always been aware and annoyed at how much the entire school seemed to gossip about her, but he’d never considered that she’d know, or how she felt about it. There was an odd sort of undertone in her voice.
He wondered yet again how much she knew, or guessed, about the things others said behind his back, when they thought he was out of earshot, always underestimating his hearing. They were careful when Sebastian was close, but they had no reason to hold back when it was just her.
So was she concerned about what the others might say if they saw them together? For her sake, or for his? He was beginning to feel sick again.
“Why did you look ‘a bit dishevelled’ in the first place?” he asked in an attempt to return to the original subject, and perhaps lighten the mood a bit.
“Well…” she hesitated for a moment. “I had a run in with some spiders.”
Oh no.
“Really, nothing to be concerned about.” She added quickly when he furrowed his brow and opened his mouth to say something.
If he had to guess, this wasn’t the first time something like that had happened- in fact he knew it wasn’t. Dragons, Trolls, Dark Wizards, now this- and Merlin knew what else in between. She almost seemed to enjoy it, always roaming around, curious to see what else she could take on.
That recklessness made him uneasy. He had spent the last four years with another one like that, and the two of them being best friends felt like pouring oil in a fire.
“Are you all right?”
“Of course I am. Nothing a bath and a Wiggenweld potion couldn’t fix,” she reassured him.
So you did get hurt.
Ominis frowned. He couldn’t smell any blood, and didn’t hear any strange whispers when she came in. She also didn’t sound as if she was in any pain, so she most likely wasn’t lying when she said she was fine now. Her having just taken a bath also explained why the scent of her soap was slightly stronger than usual and not mixed with the earthy, piney smell of the forest that always clung to her when she’d been roaming around the highlands.
“Are you all right?” she asked suddenly.
The question caught Ominis by surprise. “Certainly. Why wouldn’t I be?”
“You seem a bit tense. If there’s anything I can help you with…”
Even without sight, he could guess she was pausing to look at him expectantly. Merlin, did she think that’s why he asked her to meet him?
“No, I…” There were a lot of things he would have liked to say to her, and yet he couldn’t seem to find the right words.
He had to say something, though, because the silence between them as she waited for Ominis to finish his sentence was starting to feel oppressive.
“I’m fine,” he finally said, suddenly feeling self-conscious about how much he was stressing over what, to her, was a casual conversation she had with dozens of others on an average day.
For Merlin’s sake, they were classmates sitting in the library, making smalltalk.
Time to change the subject.
“Really though, what were you doing out there?” He tried his luck again.
“Just the usual.”
Ominis barely managed to suppress a frustrated sigh. “Which would be…?”
She seemed to consider him for a moment. The building frustration from her annoyingly vague answers must have been evident, and Ominis thought for a split second that he’d pushed too far.
“Nothing too exciting. Chatting to some of the locals. Looking for good spots to collect potion ingredients, that sort of thing.”
“Sharp must be very proud of you.”
She laughed that melodic, infuriatingly infectious laugh of hers, and Ominis was both relieved and grateful that the atmosphere lightened considerably again, even as the annoying git who shushed him earlier made a disapproving noise. If she’d heard it, she’d decided to ignore it, and Ominis was more than happy to follow her lead.
“I’m not doing it to please Professor Sharp, I quite enjoy potion making- unlike some of us,” she teased.
“I don’t-“
“Don’t bother denying it, it’s not like I’m imagining the sour look on your face every time I look at you during Potions.”
So she hadn’t been ignoring him, even after everything that had happened. His insides squirmed pleasantly. Perhaps she was still curious about him, after all.
Ominis cleared his throat.
“So, had any success in finding those potion ingredients?” he asked, awkwardly attempting to keep the conversation going.
“Hmm. I’m running out of Horklump juice, but there weren’t any around. I did find some Ashwinder eggs though, at an abandoned poacher camp nearby,” she rambled on absentmindedly, still shuffling around her pieces of parchment. “I’ve always been curious about them, you know. I’d like to see one someday.”
“I wouldn’t recommend it. They’re dangerous criminals, you know.”
She held back a laugh. “I meant an Ashwinder- as in the creature, not the poachers. I’ve seen quite enough of them.” 
“...it was a joke.”
She giggled. “I’ve been thinking about how I always collect their eggs as potion ingredients, but I’ve never actually seen one,” she mused.
Well, they weren’t exactly the sociable sort, even for snakes.
Ominis had met an Ashwinder once, in the gardens behind his family home, after it had slithered out of an abandoned fire his older brother had been playing around with before he’d wandered off, bored. Excited to have someone to talk to, someone who he’d hoped wouldn’t either dismiss him or use the opportunity for some casual cruelty, Ominis had bent down to greet the little snake. It had told him to sod off and slithered away to lay its eggs. Back then, he’d been sulking the whole day over it.
The corners of his lips twitched upwards.
Shame, he thought ruefully. There he actually had a somewhat funny story about the very thing she was interested in, and he couldn’t even tell her. Not without revealing secrets about himself that he’d rather keep tightly guarded.
“Have you ever heard one?” She inquired.
Ominis stiffened instantly. So much for his tightly guarded secrets. He really would have to wring Sebastian’s neck one of these days. “What do you mean by that?”
“I only meant, well…,” she answered sheepishly, “… you obviously wouldn’t have seen one, and I know you have good hearing. Sorry, did I say something wrong?” She was obviously taken aback.
“No, of course not. I’m sorry.” He relaxed. So Sebastian hadn’t told her that, at least. He cleared his throat. “You would have to be lucky to see one. They are born from unattended magical fires and only live for about an hour, barely long enough to lay their eggs.”
“Ah.” She was fumbling with her quill, running her fingers along the feathered edges, from the sound of it, seemingly deep in thought, and thankfully not angry at him for snapping at her. “If they’re born from fires, what are they laying eggs for?”
“I think that’s a question better asked of Professor Howin,” Ominis replied. “You’re the one taking Beasts class, not me.”
“So… could I just make a fire somewhere, ‘unattend’ it and wait for one to come out?”
He gave her an amused snort, not sure if she was being serious. “Are you taking a page out of Peeve’s book, trying to burn down the castle?” Brows furrowed, he still flashed her a warm smile as she had a fit of giggles, and a pleasant warmth spread through his body.
“Perhaps I should take a page out of Peeve’s book, that’d make us even,” she said.
Ominis was waiting for her to explain that rather puzzling statement, but she didn’t.
“Meaning…?”
“Never mind.”
He brushed it off. This was all he’d wanted, sitting together, having a pleasant conversation, laughing about each other’s jokes. And yet it didn’t feel quite right, there was still a wall between them, made up of secrecy and lies.
She finally seemed to have started on her work, the scratching of her quill adding to the symphony of the rustling paper and soft hums and whispers surrounding them.
Apologise for yelling at her about the Undercroft.
Ominis wanted to, he really did, and if he was ever going to, now was the time- but he was still embarrassed just thinking about it and he didn’t want to ruin their first decent conversation by reminding her of how horrible he’d been. It might have been easier to talk about if she was the one to bring it up, and he quietly wondered why she didn’t.
Through the ambient sounds, he heard Madam Scribner get up from behind her desk, about to make a final pass through her sacred halls. Reminding students not to leave a mess, picking unwilling volunteers to tidy the mess of the ones who didn’t listen amongst the stragglers who couldn’t flee fast enough, he was almost tempted to make sure it’d be the two of them.
It wouldn’t be fair, though.
Based on her account of how she’d spent her evening so far and his own idle contemplations, they’d both need to dedicate the remaining hours of the day to schoolwork, and she’d already dropped her previous plans as soon as she received his owl- a courtesy far beyond anything he deserved.
They were out of time.
“We should probably leave.”
There she was, slipping through his fingers again. If only she’d arrived half an hour earlier, maybe he could have gathered his nerve and apologised, at least.
“Wait, weren’t we going to do our homework? I haven’t even started, to be honest.”
Ominis smirked. “The library is about to close, you know. I’ve been here for hours before you came in.” Not that he’d been very productive in that time.
“Oh.” She sounded defeated- and perhaps even a bit disappointed?
That might have been wishful thinking on his part.
“I guess I’ll head back to the common room then. If I’m lucky, Adelaide’s still up and I can copy from her.”
He let out a small chuckle. “Cheating on our assignments, are we?”
“Oh, well. I can’t always be a saint,” she said cheekily.
For a second, Ominis had the urge to walk her back to her common room, but he couldn’t bring himself to ask her. It felt like it would be too much, walking around the castle with her, giving others the opportunity to make assumptions about a relationship that he himself didn’t yet fully understand. 
“Well, don’t let me keep you,” he said instead. He gathered his things, ignoring the growing regret and guilt.
“See you, Ominis. And… if you enjoyed my company enough, perhaps we could do this again?”
He felt his cheeks grow hot. “Sure.”
She laughed. “Cheers.”
And just like that, she was gone.
Her scent and her laughter still lingered and he was left wondering what, if anything, this little get together had accomplished.
Ominis could not have known this would be their last proper conversation before the three of them entered the Scriptorium.
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more a/n: Before the Scriptorium though, the next chapter will be a little trip down memory lane, featuring the earful Sebastian got for showing her the Undercroft. It’s finally here! I started working on this a while ago, so if you’ve read this far, thank you! Like I kind of hinted at in the beginning, the concept of this fic is basically “what could they have been up to ‘off-screen’, if canon events stay exactly the same” (up to and including the fact that no one ever mentions mc’s name, we’ll see if I live to regret this decision), and I don’t know if that’s interesting to anyone but myself, but I’d be happy if anyone wants to be along for the ride.  Writing from Ominis’ pov is a challenge and I try my best to keep in mind that he’s blind when describing things (so don’t expect visual descriptions of anything, ever), but hopefully without constantly drawing attention to it, I hope I managed to do that respectfully and realistically. That said, if anything feels off to you or you have questions, feel free to let me know. And finally, English is not my first language. I proofread and edit everything I write to hell and back but if I still misspelt anything or obviously misused a word, let me know so I can fix it (just be nice about it). There’s a lot more I wanted to put in the authors’ notes but I think it’s already rambly enough, so I’ll leave it at that. Until next time? (I’ve written a few chapters ahead and I’ll try to upload regularly, but realistically, I probably won’t manage it more frequently than once every 1.5 to 2 weeks)
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