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#People will stare. Make it worth their while — interactions
reynoldsellender · 17 days
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@xoemilyblunt
I hope you know that the kids are expecting us to spend Christmas together, and i was totally NOT the one that suggest this time, just think about it right, you and me cuddling by the fire eating all the food, no idea where John and Ryan would fit in that little fantasy of mine but i'm sure they'll be fine somewhere, if not Christmas then you guys have to come over for Thanksgiving you know i'll be cooking all day and i need to see you or i'll go crazy.
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Parties were NOT Simon Riley's cup of tea. Not only did they drain his social battery, but he was the type of man that much preferred the comfort of a good book and his bed over that of social interaction.
But today was New Year’s Eve, and not only had Soap practically threatened him to come, you would be there. Seeing you would make attending the shitty party worth it. Seeing you always made anything worth it.
Simon walked into the mess hall, his heart racing slightly as he realized just how many people were here. All of the soldiers still on duty were gathered, eating, drinking, joking. Just the sheer amount of chaos that was ensuing made Simon want to run back to his room.
Until he saw you.
He found you watching TV, nursing on some concoction of drink, a languid smile on your lips as you saw him approach.
“Sergeant.” Simon nodded in your direction as he came to stand by you, thankful you couldn’t see the crimson forming in his cheeks.
“Lieutenant.” You smiled up at him, before letting your eyes fall back to the TV in front of you. "Surprised to see you here tonight."
Simon grunted in reply, his eyes scanning the crowded mess hall, finding his Scottish friend laughing with a group of recruits. "Johnny forced me. Plus, the company isn't so bad."
You turned your face slightly, a blush reaching your cheeks at his admission. "Glad to know my company is suitable for you."
You both stood watching the party for a while as a comfortable silence fell between the two of you. This was one of the things Simon adored about you. You never forced him to talk, which frankly, made him all the more eager to do so with you.
“Y/N-.” He began, but Johnny had cut him off with a tap of his glass.
"Alright everyone, begin the count down! It’s ten seconds to midnight!” Johnny called out, grabbing everyone's attention, prompting nearly everyone in the mess hall began to shout out the countdown.
"Ten!"
You couldn't help but look over at your lieutenant, your breath hitching slightly as you saw he was already looking at you, his soft brown eyes softening as they locked on you.
All of the noise in the background, the cheers, the conversations, the sound of the TV, all vanished in that moment. The only thing mattering to you was the way that Simon Riley was looking at you.
"Nine!"
Your many years alongside him began to swirl in your head, all the long missions, the close calls, all those times he risked his life for you, and you for him. All those times he'd let you in to see the man behind the mask, the man that was Simon Riley.
Your feelings for him had only grown in all the time you'd been alongside him, and you found yourself utterly and completely in love with your superior.
"Eight!"
Simon took a step closer to you, his eyes remaining as stoic as ever as they stayed locked on yours. You always hated how you could never tell what he was thinking, could never read what he was feeling by his looking in his eyes.
God, what you would give to be able to know what was going on in that gorgeous head of his right now.
If only you fucking knew.
"Seven!"
You tucked your bottom lip between your teeth as his he now stood almost chest to chest with you, his frame towering over yours as he looked down at you. You blinked a few times, your heart pounding in your chest as you looked up at him. "Hi."
"Hi." He replied, his tone quieter than usual. His hands began to shake slightly as he slowly began to move one of them toward the base of his balaclava.
"Six!"
You watched as he pulled his mask up, revealing a handsome jaw, lined with stubble. His lips were littered with scars, and you couldn't help but stare at them. From what little you could see of his face, you realized just how fucking pretty he was. As if there was any doubt.
"S-Simon." You breathed out, the intensity of his gaze sending a heat coursing throughout the entirety of your body. You couldn’t help yourself, you let your hand grip lightly at his arm, prompting him to chuckle softly.
"Five!"
Simon leaned toward you, his finger lightly touching your chin as he tilted your face up towards his. You found yourself leaning up toward him, your heels leaving the ground slightly.
His touch was so gentle against your chin despite the rough texture of his fingers, and it took everything in you not to moan at the tenderness of his touch.
"Four!"
“You want this?” He asked, his voice holding a nervousness you’d never been on the receiving end of before. “With me?”
All you could do was nod up at him, not trusting yourself to speak. You don't think you'd ever been this nervous in your life, your mouth running dry in anticipation.
"Three!"
This was it, wasn’t it? After all these years, after all those long nights, those deep talks, those longing glances… was this really about to happen?
"Two!"
Your heart was practically beating out of your chest as you felt his breath on your mouth, his lips being just a hair away from your own. You could hear him inhale sharply, and watched as his eyes darted toward your mouth.
"One!"
It was as if time stopped when his lips finally met yours. They slotted against yours so effortlessly, almost as if they were made to be kissed by you.
After years of loving Simon Riley, he was finally, finally kissing you. And it was everything you could ever have hoped it would be.
He pulled away a moment later, the smile on his lips now reaching his beautiful brown eyes. “Happy New Year, sergeant.”
A Happy New Year indeed.
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bunni-v1 · 1 year
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Heyyaaa
May I request dorm leaders finding out you’re a girl please? If it’s too much u can make a part 2
Dorm Leaders Find Out You're a Girl?!?!?! (NOT CLICKBAIT!!!)
TW: Mentions of transphobia (nothing awful, just literally dropping the word lol); Idia is creepy
Info: Riddle, Leona, Azul, Kalim, Vil, Idia, Malleus x Reader (Platonic or Romantic); Fluff, Comedy(?)
🍓This one is gonna be long, like 5.3k words long. I love writing the dorm leaders so damn much <3 Besides, there’s been a long wait for this one, so I hope I make it worth it! You might see some favoritism shine through, but I did my best to keep it even. Hope you all enjoy!
Tags: @kierancaz @danchann33 @arashrita @the-ace-reader @akiyamasmizuki @kitsun369 @bloomstruck (I think I got all of you)
First Years
Ortho Sebek
Second Years
Third Years
-Okay so, I know we’re all wondering, how the hell do you get away with hiding your gender for so damn long?
-Firstly, those ceremonial robes do great at hiding the figure. The only tell would maybe be your hair, but feminine men aren’t unwelcome at Nightraven College, so you mostly get a few questioning stares and that’s it.
-Secondly, Crowley wants to save his own fucking ass. He already has to hide from the press that he has a MAGICLESS student from ANOTHER DIMENSION here, he doesn’t need the fact that you are a woman ALSO on his plate. So, obviously, he helps you hide your gender from others.
-Grim knows, of course, and he keeps his mouth shut for a few yummy cans of tuna (and threats of being expelled from Crowley <3)
-Even when you were just a janitor, he couldn’t have the rumor that he put a “helpless” young woman to work. (Like it wouldn’t be expected.)
-So how do you two do it?
-Baggy ass uniform. Crowley gave you at least three sizes too big.
-Your figure is completely hidden. Sure, you look completely homeless, but at least you’re hidden.
-For your voice, you simply deepen it. After some point, you blackmail Crowley into giving you a potion to help with it, since it's so taxing on your voice. (Or maybe your voice is naturally deep!)
-Sam provides you (for an unfairly pretty penny (not too different from your original world…)) any feminine hygiene products you might need.
-Honestly, you’re set for being cared for, but it’s the adjustment period that’s the hardest part. 
-Truly, it’s very jarring to suddenly be thrown into both a magical world and be isolated in a man's world with nowhere to hide.
-At least in your world you had other women who could understand your struggles. Here though? You’re completely alone.
-You notice how… messy some of these guys could be. How some of them smell… really rancid. -How rough they were with you and each other.
-Honestly, it’s kinda eye-opening. The way men show affection to each other is oddly refreshing to watch and experience!
-Ace and Deuce specifically are a good… trial run.
-That’s not what we’re here to talk about though…
-For the most part, it's incredibly easy to hide yourself for the first while on campus. Everyone on campus is so self-absorbed that they don’t bother questioning you.
-Your only real risk factor is Savannaclaw, but it's easy to avoid those guys (minus Jack, of course).
-However, you can only hide your gender for so long… It’s mentally draining to keep up this facade all the time around people you care about.
-So… how do they find out?
Riddle
-Riddle is the last student in Heartslabyul to find out.
-It’s not like he did anything to you for you to hold off on telling him (you know, other than the whole almost killing you that one time thing), it’s just that you don’t feel inclined to tell him. 
-Simple as that.
-He also really has no reason to question your gender. 
-Riddle didn’t have must interaction with people his own age until he came to night raven college, he doesn’t have the same social ideologies as other people do.
-Nightraven college is really his first touch with society outside of his mothers very watchful, conservative eye.
-So, excuse him for not picking up on stupid little gendered norms that the other students do.
-In his eyes, you dress like a man, you act (sort of) like the other male students, and you prefer he/him pronouns. 
-There’s nothing more to it then, right? If you identify as a man, he has no reason not to treat you as such - nor should he suspect you would hide your gender like that.
-Besides, this is an all boys school! Crowley wouldn’t allow you to attend here unless you were also a boy… right?
-He is aware there are exceptions — and you are already QUITE the exception, but surely Crowley wouldn’t be so cruel as to force a young woman to attend an all boys academy.
-Ah, sweet Riddle, ever in denial.
-He isn’t STUPID though. He notices how brotherly Trey is to you. He knows (and has heard) your many “secret sleepovers” with Cater.
-He ignores these things and doesn’t comment on them simply because, well, he likes you!
-He helps to tutor you sometimes, and he’s gotten to know you through that, and he really does come around on enjoying your presence.
-So, he ignores Trey and Cater’s odd behaviors for your sake.
-You keep him and his dorm members in high spirits, why would he want to shoo something like that away?
-He doesn’t really questionthings until he… overhears a conversation between Deuce and Ace. (A rather loud one, for how supposedly secret this topic was meant to be).
-One of them had gotten in trouble with a professor, and he was going to give them a stern scolding when he overheard what they were talking about.
-“Deuce, dude, you’re gonna want to sit down for this one.”
“What is it, I’m busy trying to finish my potionology homework.”
“Seriously this one is crazy, you’re not ready for for it.”
“Ace, if you’re just messing with me I’m going to leave.”
“Dude, the prefect is a girl.”
“…What?”
-Riddle did not bother the two after that. In fact, he just walked back to his room to sit and think about what he just overheard.
-It DID make sense. You didn’t quite fit in with everyone else for reasons outside of your otherworldly origin.
-You acted differently than the typical guy here at NRC, and you seemed to get along with the peers that were more ‘traditionally feminine’ best.
-It would explain Trey’s coddling and Cater’s secretiveness.
-Still, he didn’t want to assume. This was Ace and Deuce, and Ace could just be messing around with Deuce.
-So, at your next tutoring session, he broaches the subject as politely as possible.
-“So, prefect, I have… overheard something that I wanted to ask you about.”
“Oh no, am I in trouble because of Ace and Deuce again.”
“Not… technically… I did, however, overhear them talking about… you being a woman.”
“…I’m gonna kill them.”
“I could collar them for you, if that would help.”
-The confirmation was reassuring for Riddle in multiple ways. 
-1) Ace isn’t as terrible of a person as the thought he was.
-2) He wasn’t crazy in noticing the slight differences in you and your other peers.
-Now, you and Riddle aren’t exactly super close by any means, so your interactions with each other are limited to when you’re either being tutored or with friends in Heartslabyul.
-However, he is notably more nervous than he usually is.
-He doesn’t have some super secret crush on your all of the sudden, he just… never really had a chance to interact with women before.
-His mom kept him very sheltered from the opposite gender, so he has little to no experience with them.
-On top of that, because of his mother, he does have a slight fear of women. He’s afraid he’s going to upset you and you’ll blow a fuse on him or something.
-You have to assure him that you don’t bite and you won’t suddenly start screaming at him for no reason, and then he begins to relax a bit.
-Still, he’s very sweet and gentlemanly to you.
-If you need help with anyone around campus, you should come to him and he will have them dealt with accordingly.
Leona
-Leona “Respects Women” Kingscholar.
-Leona has SLIGHTLY worse smell than Ruggie, but he also knew immediately upon your arrival that you were a girl.
-In fact, he knew you weren’t a trans man, because they smell distinctly different from the typical woman.
-There aren’t many trans people in the Savannah though, so Ruggie not being able to pick up on that doesn’t really shock him.
-Leona, however, has smelled and seen plenty of trans people in his life time — you aren’t one of them.
-He won’t lie, he’s definitely interested in you. Women where he comes from are big and strong and proud, you’re just kind of plain.
-He keeps his ever curious eye on you though, because he’s interested in how you might navigate this whole thing.
-Now don���t get it twisted, he doesn’t care about you, he’s curious about you. 
-If you were to ask him for help on something, he wouldn’t offer it. (Not that you would, you seem particularly averse to him).
-However, if he were to see some creep trying to… well… creep on you, he’d chase them away without ever having you know he did.
-He was your secret bodyguard who wouldn’t admit it even if you held a knife to his throat.
-Still, he stayed out of your way and you stayed out of his. 
-A symbiotic relationship that you weren’t even aware existed… until you got in his way.
-Like Ruggie, when you start getting a little too involved in his ahem business, he gets pretty damn annoyed.
-You’re not exactly a threat to start, but you are a little trouble maker. If you find out what he’s up to, you’ll ruin his plans completely, and he can’t have that.
-However, he’s not exactly comfortable “taking care of you” like he is his male peers.
-He respects women, okay, you can’t blame him for not wanting to purposefully hurt you. (If his mom and brother found out, he’d never hear the damn end of it)
-He sends out Ruggie to scare you off, explicitly telling him he can’t hurt you on purpose.
-He knows Ruggie already has an idea of what’s going on, so he doesn’t have any qualms with telling him to be careful with you.
-Still, despite all this, he doesn’t really broach the topic until he’s forced to.
-He’s made it known to you, at this point, that he knows your secret. 
-He hasn’t caused you any extra trouble since his overblot, and he keeps his dorm members off your back, so you have no reason to interact with him… until, again, you get yourself into trouble.
-This time it’s YOU dragging him into your mess, despite him wanting nothing to do with it.
-You are convincing, though, so he gives and allows you to stay in his dorm room — rent free! Isn’t he so nice.
-Jack offers himself for protection if you need it, but you can see that Ruggie is quite bemused with the whole situation, so you decide to turn him down.
-Leona hasn’t tried anything yet, and he really could if he wanted to.
-You decide you can trust him. (You have to trust him).
-Then presents the issue of sharing a bed.
-Leona isn’t a weird pervert, okay. He isn’t absolutely leaping at the idea to be in bed with you — he’s so sorry.
-Honestly, it makes him a bit… uncomfortable.
-Sharing a bed is something you do with family or someone you’re involved with, not the weird magic-less kid who’s at least three years too young for you.
-So, Leona, ever the women’s rights activist, approaches you with a proposition.
-“Listen, I know you’re a woman and I know you know that. We’re not sharing a bed, there ain’t no way that’s happening.”
“Oh, so would you like the poor helpless homeless woman to sleep on the floor? How cruel can you be Leona.”
“Shut up, I’m not gonna do that to you. Listen, you can have the bed all to yourself and I’ll sleep on the couch, so long as you promise not to tell a single soul about this.”
“I promise.”
-You immediately tell Ruggie the next morning, and he is sure to make sure Leona never forgets it.
-Living with Leona for the short period of time that you do is very insightful!
-He’s actually pretty funny, much smarter than he lets on, and almost brotherly to you. Which does not fit the M.O. you built of him in your head.
-He’s gruff and pushy, but he does it out of genuineness.
-You end up getting really close to him because of it. 
-His quiet and laid-back demeanor are a break from the chaos of everyone else on campus, and he doesn’t make a big deal out of anything so you can just complain and he nods along unbothered.
-Only thing you notice that upsets him is when you bring up guys who bother you.
-Those guys tend to stop bothering you shortly after. How strange…
Azul
-Azul is hands down the last person on campus you want knowing about this.
-Riddle, Ruggie, Trey, Cater and pretty much everyone with half a brain tell you to stay as far away from him as possible.
-You see him in the halls sometimes, and he doesn’t look to bad. Unapproachable, sure, but he’s a rather pretty guy. Well put together and seemingly very smart from what you’ve been told.
-He helped to subdue Grim in the opening ceremony, so you know he’s magically capable. He’s also a house warden, so that goes unspoken, I suppose.
-He seems interested in you, from what you can tell. He always waves at you when he does see you in a sort of fake friendly kind of way. 
-You’ve seen him and his little (large, very large) goonies admiring ramshackle before.
-You’ve also politely asked them to not do that when you moved in, because it freaks you out a lot. To which they all gave you very eerie smiles and walked away.
-They remind you of a very small mafia, and you decided to heed your friends warnings because of that.
-You do so successfully for a long time too. Other than the few previously stated interactions, Azul seems un-inclined to bother you, and you don’t want to catch his leering eyes.
-Little do you know, Azul has a much more watchful eye on you that you initially thought.
-Sure, you don’t have much to offer him magic wise, but you have ramshackle. Oh, how he wants ramshackle.
-You are key to obtaining it, he just… has to find something on you first.
-You’re so painfully average. Perhaps a little more pretty in the face than his other peers, but you sacrifice that with the atrociousness of your uniform. 
-Truly, nothing about you is different.
-He almost gives up until Grim delivers him an opportunity in a pretty little bow.
-You agree to his contract out of the goodness of your heart, just like he knew you would. So sweet and kind are you, to practically hand him the deed to ramshackle on a silver platter.
-He notices, however, that Jade grows a very… sudden fascination with you.
-Sure, he told both Jade and Floyd to keep and eye on you and keep you in like, but for Jade to be so interested… very odd.
-Then, shortly after, Floyd’s own interest is piqued. Alright… less odd than Jade, but to have both of their eyes on you must mean he’s missing something. (I know I previously said that Floyd found out after Azul, but I was stupid and wrong and you should never listen to me when I’m talking about Floyd).
-He tries to get it out of them by any means, Asking, blackmailing, manipulation. He really does try, but their lips are sealed tight.
-It frustrates him to no end that they know something he doesn’t, and that he can’t figure out this very big secret.
-It stumps him for so long, because he’s looking in all the wrong places for the answer.
-Meanwhile, you know that Jade and Floyd know and you are TERRIFIED waiting for Azul to use this against you.
-The suspense starts killing you and making you anxious enough that its affecting sleep, so you decide to bite the bullet and arrange a meeting with him.
-Azul is honestly delighted, because he was just going to outright force the truth from you at this point.
-“I’m glad you set up this meeting, I’ve been meaning to talk to you.”
“I know… I’ve been pretty nervous about it since Jade and Floyd started pestering me.”
“Before I talk about what I want to, I’d like to hear what you have to say. I’m a good listener after all.”
“Too good, if you ask me. Uhm, anyway, so I know that Jade and Floyd to you that I’m a girl already, but I’m really hoping you would just leave me be. You owe me after all.”
“…You’re a girl?”
“Did they not tell you…?”
-what. What? WHAT?!?!?!
-How could he not tell, he feel so incredibly stupid. Its so obvious now that he thinks about it.
-No wonder Jade and Floyd wouldn’t stop teasing him about it.
-He agrees not to let the secret out — he DOES owe you his life, after all. This is a minor trade.
-However, he does not mentally recover from this revelation for a while.
-He doesn’t treat you very different, I suppose. He’s more gentlemanly with you, and is generally more friendly, but those things come from saving a persons life regardless.
-He is, surprisingly, willing to ensure your whole gender thing doesn’t get out so long as you work a few hours at the monster lounge.
-Probably the best at keeping it to himself and making sure it doesn’t get out. You wouldn’t expect any less with Azul, though.
Kalim
-You and Kalim don’t really have much of a chance to interact.
-He seems sweet enough, and you know he’s much kinder than the rest of the dorm leaders, but you don’t really have any reason to interact with him.
-Kalim also doesn’t think too much of you. 
-You caused a ruckus at the entrance ceremony, that’s for sure, but you kinda blend into the background.
-Besides he’s a party animal — constantly hosting these huge parties at his dorm just because he can.
-As someone trying to keep out of trouble and hide such a huge secret… yeah, parties aren’t exactly your forte.
-So, when you get roped in to coming to Scarabia over winter break, Kalim is pleasantly surprised!
-He’s always excited to make a new friend, and you’re pretty infamous around school, so he’s extra excited to get to know you.
-Kalim has no reason to question anything about you, like most other people would.
-However, he isn’t stupid. He has plenty of younger sisters, and he picks up on social queues better than you’d expect.
-He definitely suspects something is off, but he figures you would tell him if something was up. 
-You actually find him quite easy to be around. He’s someone who makes it easy to let your walls down and just relax with.
-Despite his sudden mood shifts, he always makes sure that you’re happy and healthy and doing the best you can be in your position.
-However, you run out of the magical potion that deepens your voice pretty quickly, and you have to go back to dramatically straining your voice.
-You sound sick, honestly, and it makes Kalim worry. 
-He figures that you’re forcing yourself to deepen your voice so you’re still perceived as a man.
-Instead of asking you directly, as Kalim does, he goes to Jamil.
-“Jamil…”
“What do you need, Kalim?”
“Don’t you think somethings… off with the prefect?”
“Off? What are you talking about, nothings off with them.”
“No, I mean… do you think they might be… a girl?”
“…Kalim, that’s very rude to say. You need to be more respectful.”
“…You’re right, I’m sorry. Could we get him something to soothe his voice though, it sounds rough.”
-Kalim is a lot more watchful of you after that. He just… knows something is wrong, but he doesn’t want to be rude.
-It’s actually you who comes to him when no one is around for help.
-“Kalim, uhm, I need your help.”
“Sure, what’s up?”
“So, I’m pretty sure you know, but I’m not a guy… I’m a girl, and I really need help hiding it. The longer I’ve been here, the harder it’s been on me.”
-Sweetheart he is, he promises to both help you and keep your secret to himself — and he does both surprisingly well!
-He offers his private bathroom to you so you can shower in peace. 
-It’s honestly the best bath you’ve ever had with all his sweet smelling oils. Your skin feels so smooth and renewed.
-Still, even with this, you still don’t feel safe with anyone else — plus the fact that Kalim has random and horrifying mood shifts. You have to flee.
-And yet you still get dragged into more trouble with the octatrio. You still get exposed to the whole dorm by a crazed Jamil, and now have to deal with the horror that they’ll tell everyone.
-Kalim feels awful, and thus shows his forgiveness in the best way he can: giving gifts.
-You get tons of apology gifts from him in the coming months. Baskets of the best shower stuff you’ve ever had; a new, better fitted but still innocuous uniform; enough tuna to keep grim satisfied for years (and sweets that you happily keep to yourself).
-It’s so nice, but you start to feel bad. It feels like you’re taking advantage of his guilt, when you’re not really upset at anyone involved anymore.
-You’re welcome at Scarabia any time. None of his dorm members will ever cause you any trouble, and you can dress and act and sound however you want within Scarabia’s walls. 
Vil
-Miss beauty queen himself. We love Vil, we Stan Vil, we adore Vil… 
-Oh my god he’s a pain in the ass though, especially for you.
-He sees through you in an instant.
-Truly, Vil finds you to be more of a little pest than anything.
-You are constantly in trouble, you are magic less, and you decided to needlessly hide your gender.
-The last one is the worst offense in his eyes.
-Vil is someone who does not value gender, but expression. Your gender does not matter as much as your expression, therefore you hiding your expression irks him.
-He’s understanding enough in the fact that he knows you might be doing this to protect yourself, but he finds it stupid and useless, because you’re easy to see through.
-He avoids you, and you avoid him. Simple as that.
-Unfortunately for Vil, you’ve caught Rook’s eye, which means he must sit through many hours of Rook rambling on about his “findings” about you.
-When you tried out for the VDC, he was simply going to turn you and Grim away, but Rook convinced him to give you a chance.
-Rook wanted him to help your reveal your “inner beauty”, though Vil wasn’t sure if you had any of that.
-You wore baggy, horrifically ugly clothing up until winter break. Your hair was constantly a mess. Your skin was poorly taken care of, and the bags under your eyes were as dark as night.
-It almost made him feel bad for you… so despite his better judgement, he decided to invest time in you.
-Vil makes it very clear that he knows what your whole secret is.
-“I am aware of the fact that you are a woman, however, I will continue to use your preferred pronouns since it seems to bring you comfort.”
-He’s very insistent that you allow him to do your skincare AND your makeup whenever you give him the chance.
-Especially when he moves into ramshackle temporarily, he’s very insistent on maintaining your skincare routine.
-He essentially makes your entire nightly routine himself, and is right there over your shoulder making sure you do it right.
-Despite how overbearing it is, you actually make good friends with him through this.
-Being stuck alone in a room with no one but him to talk to forces you two to talk.
-You get to learn why he cares so much about appearances, and he gets to know why you hide to protect yourself.
-“It’s just… easier to pretend, because guys will bother me less that way.”
“I can’t understand why they would bother you. You’ve done nothing to them, so why would they want to do anything to you.”
“That’s the thing, I don’t know either. I just know it’s scary, and I don’t want to deal with it.”
-You move him, honestly. You’re strong even though you’re scared, and that’s beautiful. Thats what true beauty is.
-He helps you embrace your inner self and express that, while still helping you to hide your gender in a way that feels safe.
-You are always welcome at Pomefiore, and you can come to either him or Rook if you have any issues at all.
-It’s like having a big sister, almost.
Idia
-Idia has eyes everywhere.
-Every inch of that campus is (illegally) being monitored by his watchful eyes. 
-When he’s bored in class, he flicks through the cameras to amuse himself — maybe he’ll see someone slip and fall on their ass. That would be funny.
-He’s not really interested in you in particular.
-In fact, he’d like to keep a very far distance between the two of you.
-You’re… intimidating. You’ve fought some of the most powerful mages on campus and won.
-Total final boss energy, not something Idia is interested in being around.
-What he IS interested in is that wittle kitty you’ve got following you around.
-When he’s bored in class, he goes searching for Grim, and where Grim is you are sure to be.
-So, despite his aversion to you, he ends up spending a lot of time watching you.
-He starts to notice… things about you.
-He notices that you seem to put on a tough guy persona around… well… other guys in your class.
-When it’s just you and Grim though? You’re the softest softie he’s ever seen.
-It’s top tier cringe watching you try to being all macho, so he much prefers your more quiet and relaxed self you show in private.
-Seriously though, you’re a TOTALLY DIFFERENT PERSON when you’re alone with certain people.
-EVEN YOUR VOICE CHANGES!!!
-It’s so uber creepy, it’s like a jumpscare every time you drop that fake deep voice.
-If he’s being real, you’ve got a pretty voice. Honestly, you’re really pretty period. Too pretty to be a guy honestly.
-…
-….
-…..HOLY SHIT!!!
-He has to check your medical files to be sure — which he obviously has access to, thanks to having access to everything Ortho has access to.
-Blah blah blah allergies, blah blah blah horrific injuries from overblots, blah blah blah- AH HAH!
-Next to gender you are listed as… transgender man.
-He doesn’t wanna be that weird transphobic incel, but from what he’s seen? He highly doubts that.
-From what he’s seen in his (invasive) watching, you’re definitely doing the troupe of hiding your gender to better fit in.
-He feels like he’s in an anime or something.
-He doesn’t really want to bother you about it — but from watching you, you seem like someone he’d really enjoy being around.
-Ortho also insists that he’d get along with you very well!
-…It’s worth a shot right.
-He tries several times to “bump” into you, which always ends in him skittering away in fear.
-He psyches himself out every time. “They wouldn’t even wanna hang out with a loser like me.” “They’re way too cool for someone as lame as me.” 
-It’s not until you invite yourself to one of tabletop club’s meetings that he’s forced to interact with you.
-He’s really banking on the fact that you’ll be too busy talking with Azul to notice him, but then Azul leaves and its just you and him.
-Him and you…
-Both of you… in total and complete silence.
-…yep… 
-“Uhm, Idia…?”
“yES!?”
“I came here cause I wanted to talk to you, sorry for being so underhanded about it, I just couldn’t get you alone without you running off.”
“AH— I mean, ahem, okay. My bad.”
-You totally cornered him like an evil villain.
-All because you wanted to… be his friend?
-Is he dreaming, going insane perhaps, did HE get isekaied into an alternate universe where he was likable???
-Nope, Ortho just talks him up a lot, and you think his hair is cool. Huh. Kinda lame compared to what he was thinking.
-You guys talk a LOT after that. You exchange numbers and you text him about all sorts of stuff — and he’s actually interested in it!
-You learn that he’s been watching you and Grim for a long time, and while you scold him.
-You think it’s pretty funny that he’s embarrassed about his love for cute things.
-“If you’ve been keeping your eye on me for so long, you must’ve figured out that I’m a girl, right?”
“Yeah, you’re not great at hiding it. That macho guy act is suuuuper lame, you look like a noob lol.”
“Hey! I’m just copying what Deuce told me to do!”
-You guys don’t really see each other face to face very often, but like I said you text a lot.
-Sometimes he’ll text you shit like ‘I saw that, saved it for blackmail.’ After you biffed your shit on the pavement or something.
-When Idia gets more comfortable, you two spend hours on call whenever you get the chance.
-He lends you some of his precious manga, and even gives you an older TV he had laying around so you can watch stuff at ramshackle.
-Sometimes he invites you over to play video games with him and Ortho, and he gets all cocky and proud when you gush about how cool all his tech is.
-And, yeah, Idia definitely forms a little crush on you — but he would do that regardless of your gender. 
-He just likes you a lot, and you can feel safe on campus knowing he’s watching over you when you need it. (Mostly watching Grim, tbh.)
Malleus
-We know that Malleus enjoys… creeping outside of Ramshackle.
-He spends quite a lot of time on your front lawn, therefore, he’s usually in proximity of you.
-However, he is very intimidating!
-As a young woman in a magical world that you are not from, a very tall man with horns is the exact opposite of what you want to be around.
-Besides, you’ve heard the rumors about him — how powerful he is, and how scary he is.
-Malleus, on the other hand, is admittedly curious about you.
-He finds humans in their own right incredibly interesting, but you are not just a regular human.
-You are a human who has no magic and is from another world entirely. 
-You are something he has never once seen in his whole life, so excuse his childish curiosity.
-Still, you’re sort of cleverly avoiding him at every chance you get, and he just can’t quite find the time to talk to you.
-Until one night, you come back rather late and you find him in your yard… again.
-You send Grim in by himself and decide to confront him by yourself, because you are tired of being afraid to fall asleep at night.
-“Hey, you, could you maybe not stare at my house in the middle of the night!”
-Oh. You are quite feisty, and very bold to approach Malleus Draconia with such an aggressive tone.
-“I’m unsure what you mean, I’m simply admiring the architecture.”
“I don’t care WHAT you’re doing, you’re freaking me out! I know you’re supposedly some big scary monster guy, but I need you to STOP being weird outside my house.”
“…My apologies…”
-Malleus is pleasantly surprised at your spunk — he’s never been spoken to like that, he’s excited by it.
-After you yell at him, you let him explain himself, and you realize he is just… really, really bad at socializing.
-He wasn’t watching you, he just really enjoys silence and ramshackle is the quietest place on campus — even with you living in it.
-So, you give him the benefit of the doubt, because he really does just seem like he’s lost on everything around him 90% of the time.
-You don’t hang out with him during the day, but if you happen to see him on your lawn (as he usually is), you go out and hang out with him for a while.
-It makes Malleus happy, because you treat him like a friend. You give him cute nicknames, and you invite him inside for snacks, and you go out of your way to say hello to him when you pass him in the halls.
-He also gets to know more about you, and his curiosities about you and your world get quelled.
-He doesn’t really question anything about you, especially not your gender.
-Gender is hardly important for fae, and you seem confident in your expression, so he has no reason to wonder. Besides, there are far more thrilling things about you than your sex.
-So, you and Malleus start to grow close. So close, in fact, that you can confidently say that he’s one of your closest friends.
-At this point, almost everyone who you want to know about your gender knows. Everyone but Malleus.
-Initially you kept it a secret because you didn’t know how good he was at not talking, but now…
-Now, well, you don’t really have a reason.
-People usually question you at this point, or at least seem suspicious, but Malleus?
-Malleus shows not a hint that he thinks something is up. It’s odd to you, isn’t he supposed to be super smart or something. Maybe he’s just too respectful.
-Regardless, you decided to talk to him about it the next time you see him staring at the gargoyles around campus.
-“Hey Tsunotaro, what’re you up to?”
“Just admiring these gargoyles here, aren’t they fascinating? They were the first few installed in the school, if my memory serves me correctly.”
“They are very cool, but could I ask you something not gargoyle related?”
“What is it, child of man?”
“You know that I’m, uhm, a girl right?”
“Oh. I did not know that, how interesting.”
-He doesn’t understand why you would hide that, but it doesn’t really perturb him that much.
-The most you got was an eyebrow raise, and then he was back to his gargoyles.
-You were pretty satisfied with that, so you figured he wouldn’t tell anyone… and then you hear him loudly talking about it with his friends in Diasomania.
-Sigh… he means well, but he just doesn’t get the social stuff.
-You’re not mad, because pretty much everyone knows at this point, but it still sucks that he’s such a loudmouth.
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gay-dorito-dust · 6 months
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How’d they act if you called them pretty upon getting catch looking at them…
Dan Heng: blushes. Hard.
He’s not use to someone complimenting his looks as it’s not something he finds important.
‘Are you really that shameless to say such things aloud?’ He’d say while avoiding eye contact with you.
Dan Heng would act as though you just shouted this out loud in front a hoard of people, even though you didn’t.
He’s awkward when it comes to taking compliments aimed his way but his reaction is too fucking cute to ignore and will warrant another compliment his way, which will only serve in making his face brunt redder.
‘Shut up, please.’ He’d plead as he covers a hand over your eyes, feeling as though they’ve stared deeply into his soul and actually see him as a whole person and more. ‘You talk too much about things you don’t understand the first thing of.’
He’s probably going to get teased by March 7th after this and it’ll be used as blackmail, probably.
Give him a moment to breath and calm down before complimenting on how pretty he is because he will combust from how flustered he is.
Argenti: would probably start a compliment war in all honesty because how can you say he’s pretty without admitting that you are also quite a sight for sore eyes.
If you were to compliment his hair, he’d resort back with how even the stars put on their best performance within your presence.
He’s got such a way with words that can easily leave one flustered without even trying. He’d even wax poetry on the spot about how the light catches your eyes in a way similar to that of a kaleidoscope, bright, vibrant and above all breathtaking.
Argenti doesn’t hold back, will not hold back, and will not back down from letting you know just how ethereal you look to him.
He can do this all day, you however could not do this all day seeing how this man has unlimited ammunition when it came to complimenting the beauty of pretty much everything.
(I mean this is the same dude who complimented a plant. 🪴 I bet that plant blushed, we just didn’t see it bc who wouldn’t blush if a chivalrous red head complimented them?)
Welt: smiles softly as a light blush coated his cheeks.
He’s well kept for someone who’s in his 60/70/80’s And he deserves to be told as such!
(all I know is that he’s grandpa age from other ppl)
So when you do compliment him and call him pretty, this old man is going to thank you for such kind words and probably give you head pats as a reward.
He appreciates a kind compliment now and then.
‘Why thank you, I try my best to keep in good shape if I’m meant to keep up with all of you.’ He would say in response followed by a chuckle.
Welt is young at heart and knows that his body isn’t how it once was but that doesn’t change the fact that he’s a restless spirit within an old man’s body. So when you compliment him, it only makes him feel good and warm on the inside.
Blade: doesn’t know how to take compliments.
He’s not use to it and doesn’t know how to react to it other than saying something along the lines of;
‘Don’t be ridiculous.’
‘Flattery will get you nowhere.’
Or just straight up. ‘No.’
And all the while his face is like this: 😐 or this 😒
It’s never one or the other, blade just doesn’t view himself worth the compliment, when the only things about him that people see most is that he’s a bad dude in a bad group doing bad things.
He doesn’t see why you’re wasting a kind, genuine compliment on someone whose entire body is riddled in ugly scars.
Blade is the type of person where you’d have to prove that your compliment is genuine or else he just won’t believe it.
Sampo: his ego is boosted to the max.
Well done you’ve made him even more insufferable.
He will smile that Cheshire smile of his and ask to hear what else about him you find appealing besides his pretty face.
You: your exposed hips, you slut-
However behind his cocky persona, he’s a giggly bitch who’s mentally kicking his feet and writing this interaction in his bubblegum pink diary with a glitter pen.
Sampo is deeply invested in what you thought about the rest of him but won’t let it show as he would consider it ‘out of character’ for himself. So he’ll continue to act the cocky and confident fool like he always does.
He’ll be the type to tease you about potentially killing him while internally screaming himself and telling other people that you find him pretty, much to your embarrassment.
‘You see them over there? Yeah they called ol’ Sampo pretty!’ He’d say to a random person while pointing towards you as you try to hide yourself behind a trash can…only for the trash can to grow arms and legs and walk off elsewhere.
Why were the arms and legs buff as fuck? What was their workout routine? You must know. now.
Sunday: takes the compliment in kind.
He looks like the type to get called handsome or pretty on the daily, so it’s nothing new to him but he’ll take the compliment nonetheless.
He’s probably the most calm out of the bunch when being called pretty, besides from maybe Welt.
He’s not bashful, he’s not overtly arrogant and he’s not in denial about it either. He just takes the compliment as it is and goes on about his day like any other.
Though people would take note on how he’s smiling brighter than usual. Your compliment would stay with him the entire day, as it serves as a reminder of his place within your heart and he’s secretly scheming on ways on how to stay within your heart.
Permanently.
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hxltic · 7 months
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You thought he was innocent. You thought that—by Megumi’s nonchalance, his lack of ability to hold eye contact, and his honest dismissal of your presence as a whole while you spoke to his best friend Itadori when you first met—was a sign of shyness, especially considering he tries to ignore conversations he doesn’t find himself necessary to participate in.
When you did include him in the conversation, he glances up from the screen of his phone, then to his pink haired companion, then back to you. He nods at whatever you said with an almost imperceptible curl of his lips, remembering how Itadori told him to smile so he doesn’t come off as rude to new people.
Since then you became friends by proximity. When Itadori was doing anything worth making fun of, you’d find each others gaze, silently agreeing on how much of a dumbass he was sometimes, and literally this interaction over and over called for you two to become closer. When he did speak, there was a softness to his voice. His words weren’t harsh, and spoken gently, as if he were to deem you as not listening anymore, he’d stop speaking completely and return to whatever he was doing. That doesn’t happen of course.
Needless to say, he was deceiving. Those beautiful green eyes underneath strands of his long hair that was growing out by the day are completely, and utterly, deceiving.
Because now, as you do get farther and farther away from just kissing, his movements become fervent and laced with hunger. You were previously sitting criss-cross on top of the bed comforter. Now you’re falling backwards, a low-eyed Megumi stripping himself of the short-sleeved white tee he wore.
“Is this okay?” He’d confirm earnestly, voice still floating into the air as before despite the drop in tone. When you solidify yourself with a tug on the hair at his nape and the desperate roll of your hips, he relocates his focus down to your neck, leaving feather-light kisses that send fire all over.
And then you get past the teasing part, finally, and you decide to pamper him a bit. You’re laying on your stomach between his legs as he is sitting upright. He allows you to remove him from his boxer briefs.
The second you hold his length between your fingers, pleasuring him with a few experimental strokes and attaching your plush lips to his throbbing tip, his eyes roll into the back of his head.
“Oh god,” he groans, basking in the feeling of the suction. You can conclude it’s his first time.
You hum back, “Mhmm,” just to provide a response.
It’s all great until the hands that clench the sheets come up to your hair and gather it into a makeshift ponytail. Megumi is always so sweet, no matter what. It’s then you realize he’s intently watching what you’re doing, not your own eyes, and there’s a curious, devious, emotion lurking behind them.
Suddenly there’s a force to the back of your head and your nose almost reaches his pelvis. Done so quick, it was as if he wanted to see what would happen, just once. His eyes shot open as he popped back into reality to check on you nervously.
“Shit sorry— I’m sorry.”
Staring up at him, blinking blankly, his nerves skyrocket at your next words but you wish to see that cold in his eyes again. Give him complete freedom to try out what he wants to, what you can tell he’s thought about more than once. You clear your throat and instruct him to do it again.
“Are you sure? I can—”
“—I want this to feel good for you. You can be rough with me.”
With him being the socially awkward one, you wear the pants in the relationship. So when he sees that determination in your eyes, he knows there’s nothing to stop it. He nods. “Just tap if you want me to stop.”
Back down you go. Like all the nervousness was just a fluke, he shoves your head down in a chase for the warmth of your throat. It pulsates around his shaft once you begin to gag, which tips his head back once more, a throaty groan leaving his mouth as his hips buck up.
He becomes more comfortable the more you seem to be actually okay with what he’s doing, and as he gets closer with every gluck and splutter, he begins speaking into the air. He can’t help it.
“Oh fuck, I love how your throat feels. Can you go even deeper? All the way?”
On cue, you choke with your nose in trimmed, dark hair, your nails digging red crescents into the skin of his thighs along with lines that will burn later. Spit dribbles past your lips and down to his balls. The boy you thought you knew would despise the feeling, and honestly the entire messy sight in itself, but I guess that’s something new you learned.
“Take it,” he looks down at you with his brows furrowed angrily, and it dawns on you this was a whole different man. Your panties run damp. He slurs, “Take it all and hold it.”
A headache forms with how fast he rolls your head up and down and the tight grip he has, then it stops for a moment as you regulate your breathing through your nose at the base before he tugs you right back up, allowing you to finally breathe. He grabs you firmly by the cheeks for a kiss. Even if his dick was in the farthest back part of your throat.
Suddenly you’re rising with his lips, and his fingers are hooking under your thighs to drag you closer to him and onto your back, just how you were before you decided to spoil him. His cock is still wet and throbbing and leaking precum, on the verge of exploding, but he leaves it untouched.
He’s tugging your shorts and panties off at the same time. At first he stares pensively, basking in all the skin he’s seeing and what he’s going to do with it. He’s quick in the way he rolls your knees up and to your sides. It’s only natural for his fingers to knead the plush of your thighs while he bends down to your center, kissing and biting around where you want him most.
“Tell me how,” he asks, his long eyelashes fluttering up to you.
Your response is “How what?” You have already completely forgotten about his lack of experience.
“How to make it good for you.”
His marks on your body do not falter; the number only increases with the amount of time that passes. “W-Well there’s a specific spot in the center that feels really good. You just kinda mess with that? I guess?” He watches your face redden and your eyes dart away as the broken sentences spill from your mouth.
“So…”
His hand releases your thigh and two of his fingers slowly slide up into your wetness, splitting your lips apart, showcasing the bud to him. He knew female anatomy, that wasn’t the hard part—it was just whatever comes after that.
He comes forward and his tongue leaves his mouth, licking a solid stripe atop your clit, looking you dead in the eyes when yours return to his so he can gauge your reaction. The pink muscle flicks up over it a few times, eliciting a gasp and a whine at the sight from you.
When you don’t respond, he does it again, this time taking you into his mouth, just to release it, and take it back in. If your legs start to move he presses them back down, leaving your thighs caged by his palms and your hips shuddering. There’s a satisfying grunt when you tug his hair, unknowingly pulling it out of his face too.
Since then he twists his face in your pussy, slurping and holding your lips open for himself when he sees fit, just to make it easier for what he’s about to do next. Moans of his own leave his mouth. It’s sloppy and wet and hot.
He drops both hands from your legs—trusting you to hold them open yourself—and relocates one hand to wrap around your throat and the other to sink two fingers inside of you. He may have started with one, but you both tacitly agreed you were past that. In the meantime, he never stops licking, forcing your eyes shut and your body to wriggle.
“Mmmmn.”
He curls his long fingers up out of half intention and half curiosity of what the inside feels like. It’s soft, padded, and warm. When your back arches at the movement, he does it once more until it’s continuous and he isn’t licking you anymore. Instead, he presses force to your throat while coming up to connect his forehead to yours.
You blink up at him leisurely, quickly finding his eyes. Yours shift around his face with those cute brows upturned.
“Do you like it when I do that?” He speaks, his voice velvety smooth.
You nod.
“Pussy is so wet and warm. Will it be that tight when I go in?”
It was kind of a genuine question, but not really. You nod again.
“I love this look on you. You gonna come on my dick like a whore when you get the chance?” His voice rumbles through your core. He knows, because you instantly tighten around his fingers.
It was then he completely concluded you actually liked when he was mean or rough with you; you just didn’t want to push it because you didn’t think it was in his nature, and he didn’t want to push it because he didn’t think it was in yours. “I’m close,” you force out.
“Yeah?” He nibbles on your ear lobe.
You nod, trying to pretend that word alone didn’t make you even wetter.
His thumb circles your clit while the ones curling inside speed up on your g-spot, all on the same hand, shaking your lower half up and down, and your eyes roll into the back of your head. The lewd squelches are music to his ears.
“Don’t stop don’t stop don’t stop—” your voice raises a pitch, and the ravenette tries his best to move during your orgasm, but your walls clenching him with a vice grip don’t allow him much. He watches in amazement when your eyes squeeze shut and your breathing becomes insanely irregular before him.
There’s slick, milky white covering his fingers by the time he does remove them, and he doesn’t think twice to shove them into his mouth.
You were watching him do it tiredly, but you hadn’t expected that to happen. You shot up onto your palms. “Megumi!”
He looks back at you. “What?”
He was already nose deep anyway.
©️hxltic
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malleleothreesome · 10 months
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Leona who is pining after you...
💛 summary: Cohesive blurbs about things Leona would do and what he would be like if he were pining after you. ༶༶༶ 💛 warnings: gender neutral reader, unedited, pretty much just a stream of my thoughts. There is cursing. Very angsty but also has romance. Mentions of depressive thoughts. A very raw look into Leona's mind. There is smut (wet dream) in the middle, marked with 🔞 if you want to skip to the next bullet. ༶༶༶ 💛 word count: 4.7k because I'm delulu
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💛 Leona who is pining after you... tries to gaslight himself and cling to any sort of logical explanation he can come up with to try to convince himself that he definitely does not have feelings for you. It was probably just a one-time thing, and he just needs to find a way to get you out of his head. He's never thought about anyone this way before, so it's definitely just an error in his brain chemistry or something. It was only a coincidence that he happened to be thinking about you at that particular time, and if you had never been on his mind at all, his heart wouldn't be beating so fast every time he interacts with you. He would never allow himself to develop feelings for anyone, especially you, so he must not actually have any. It's really that simple. It couldn't possibly be that he's fallen for some weird, magicless human, right? Right?! There has to be something medically wrong with him! He must be crazy to have these kinds of thoughts about a stranger who just randomly poofed into existence at the beginning of the semester. Why did you invade his dreams? It doesn't matter! What the hell is wrong with him?!
It has to be a mistake, because there is no way he would EVER fall for someone as annoying and boring as you are, even if you do seem to have a better understanding of him than the people who have known him his whole life, and you treat him like he actually matters instead of seeing him as the scumbag you probably should have gotten to know better before giving him your time and attention. It's not like he genuinely cares what you think of him, anyway – he’s just grateful that he doesn't have to deal with another person treating him like a failure or a lazy, worthless piece of shit.
The way you look at him like he could be someone worth loving despite his constant tirade of anger is definitely not a key factor in him caring for you. Your smile and laugh makes his chest feel funny, and the fact that he is suddenly hyper-aware of his body when he's around you is probably just a symptom of mental or physical illness. Maybe he’s finally eaten too much red meat and he’s about to succumb to heart disease at the ripe age of 20. Perhaps he simply hasn't rubbed one out in a while and he’s thinking with his dick and not his head? He's definitely not attracted to you, and he's absolutely not thinking about what it would be like to kiss you right now. That would just be insane, and he can't believe he even let himself entertain the thought! He’d rather die than think about what it would be like to wrap his arms around your waist, pulling you closer to him as you sit on his lap, looking down at him with that beautiful smile and those cunning eyes of yours, gently stroking his face as you lean down to press your lips against his… oh, god dammit!
💛 Leona who is pining after you… finally lays down in surrender to the fact that, alright, maybe he does have feelings for your dumb ass – against all odds. He convinces himself that he’s only humoring this pathetic little crush because it makes his monotonous, tiresome days a little more riveting. Lions are predators, and the thrill of the hunt is a key part of their nature, after all. Before you, all he had to look forward to was staring at the ceiling in his dark room for most of the day until the stars showed up in the sky, or until he got roped into housewarden drama and became too frustrated to do anything other than restlessly pace around Savanaclaw before eventually confining himself back to the comforting solitude of his room. He tells himself he might as well allow himself the small luxury of thinking about someone who doesn’t entirely annoy the shit out of him, because he could sure as hell use the emotional relief. At least this way, he isn’t actively thinking about how much he hates his life, and how much he hates himself for letting it become this way. Besides, what would be the harm in letting himself entertain the idea that maybe, just maybe – if he was lucky enough – you could be the first person to ever break down the walls he built to keep himself from getting hurt by other people? Plus, if nothing else, you make for such a pretty daydream.
Every moment he spends with you makes him want you to keep sticking around even after everything is said and done. You can actually keep up with his banter, which is probably why he can actually stand being around you in the first place. No one else is capable of keeping up with his quick wit, or of providing him with a good challenge. You aren't scared off by his harsh demeanor, and you're able to stand up to him when he gets a little too overbearing. You don't take his bullshit, but you still care about his well being and treat him with respect. Despite his public struggles, you don’t see him as some sort of charity case. He's never met anyone else who is able to be so firm with him, but gentle at the same time. He didn't know someone could have such a strong presence without even having magic, but you're somehow always able to pull the rug out from under him, showing him that you're much more powerful than he initially gave you credit for. You're a real pain in his ass sometimes, but you're also the only person in years who's made him feel like life might actually be worth living. Maybe these feelings aren't so bad after all…
💛 Leona who is pining after you… starts leaving his room more often and even attending classes again, hoping he'll run into you on campus. If he doesn't see you, that would suck, but he knows if he stays in his room all day, then he'd risk losing the chance to spend the day with you completely. Besides, if there's even the slightest possibility, seeing you could be the highlight of his day and make even his shittiest days seem almost bearable. When you finally show up, he throws a casual greeting and a nonchalant raise of a single brow, pretending like he coincidentally ran into you in the crowd and totally didn't memorize your class schedule. When your face lights up, telling him you were glad to run into him, his pulse races and for a split second, a goofy grin flashes on his face and he desperately starts fighting his tail from swishing eagerly behind him. All he does is mumble in agreement, then shove his hands in his pockets, rolling his eyes like this isn't what he's been waiting for since he woke up. He says he might as well join you in the cafeteria, because he's starving and it's that time anyway, so whatever.
As you enter the lunch line, your face falls in disappointment when you realize your favorite sandwich is sold out. Leona expected something like this would happen, so he asked Ruggie to grab him one of that type of sandwich along with his usual order, on the chance that he would get to spend lunch with you. He looks to his right, glancing at your slumped shoulders as your mood seems to deflate a little as a frown forms on your face. He steps forward and grumbles an off-hand comment that he snagged one earlier for himself, but since you look so pitiful, he'll let you have it, only because he doesn't want to deal with your incessant whining the whole lunch. When you gape up at him, shocked by his thoughtful gesture, his face starts burning red as he quickly turns away, aggressively stuffing a bite of food in his face to make himself look distracted. When he happens to catch your thankful eyes glistening at him, it feels like the air has been punched right out of his lungs, and the small smile and sincere gratitude tugging on the corner of your lips causes his stomach to do backflips. How annoying that his usually stoic demeanor always falls apart in front of you.
💛 Leona who is pining after you... constantly teases you and tries to embarrass you, attempting to make it sound like you're the one pining for him (even if you're not!) just to try to distract you from the truth. He teases you relentlessly, hoping it’ll make it so you won't feel confident calling him out on the little ways he treats you differently than everyone else. He loves seeing you get flustered trying to deny it, but he also uses it as an opportunity to study your reactions, trying to deduce your real feelings for him by the color in your cheeks, the wavering of your voice, how often you avert your eyes, and how quickly you fire back with an argument. The smirk that emerges on his face tells you exactly that he's not convinced, even if you deny everything. He may be subtle about it, but he uses every opportunity he can find to feel you out, to see if there's even the slightest possibility you might feel something for him. He'll never let you know how badly he wants it to be true with every fiber of his being. He’d be absolutely thrilled if you confessed to him, but he’ll never show it, because it's far more comfortable hiding behind sarcasm. His prideful, guarded heart prevents him from expressing genuine positive emotions and potentially opening himself up to any type of mockery.
💛 Leona who is pining after you... slowly becoming more attached to the idea of you falling for him. As the weeks go by and he hears you giggle as you argue with him, his thoughts linger a bit more when they try to calculate why he's not actually feeling burnt out from spending so much time with you. His patience with the rest of the world starts waning, not really bothering to deal with anyone or anything that could distract him from basking in your aura for as long as possible. He even takes a more active role in interacting with you, whether you two are chatting as he sits on a bench in the botanical gardens, or hanging out after-hours in his room, hoping that this could eventually become a common routine. He loves learning about you and the world you come from. When you open up about your background, he enjoys getting a glimpse into your mind. His brain starts rapidly filing away little details about you, creating a catalog of thoughts for each of his favorite things about you, or the little quirks you have that he secretly finds endearing. The memories of conversations where you both held each other's gaze for a fraction of a second longer than normal or the accidental touches that cause his heart to skip a beat come to life with a vibrance never seen in other parts of his memory bank. The time you grabbed his hand because the tree branches kept making “spooky” noises around you and the time you playfully messed up his hair (even daring to cop a feel of his ear in the process!), are some of his favorite memories to revisit.
As you two grow closer and more comfortable with each other, he pretends to be annoyed at you more often, only because he wants to test how well you can read him, and also how far he can push you. He revels in the way he feels a spark in his chest and a faint smile tugs at the corner of his lips whenever your eyes meet. He tries hard to remind himself that the growing heat rising to his face every time you grin at him is all because of the temperature. His playful touches start to become more sensual, his voice dips deeper and more seductive as his hands linger on your skin, his breath fanning against your face and neck with every taunting word spoken. He hates himself for loving the way you bite your lip and blush under his gaze as he continues to run his hand up your arm, causing your eyelids to flutter. He loves the feeling of power your vulnerable, affectionate expression grants him, the rush of endorphins so great he thinks his entire body might collapse. When he pulls his hand back, the stinging absence leaves him in a state of panic, terrified that this might have been the moment you'd realize how he feels about you and finally flee. In an effort to swallow his vulnerability and save face, he'll cover up his aroused desire with aggression. With a bite in his tone, he'll lash out at you, mocking the way you acted so touch-starved and desperate in the heat of the moment, even though the only one truly desperate here is him. He has to force himself to maintain eye contact and an air of dominance with you while he snaps at you, even as he feels his throat tighten, heart slamming against his ribs. He metaphorically shoves you away and leaves before he loses control, before his raw affection for you spills from his lips like a confession.
💛 🔞 Leona who is pining after you... fast asleep as he lies alone in bed, your figure haunting his dreams. Right before he fell asleep, he was having a particularly bad day and he found himself clinging to a fantasy of holding you in his arms, using you as an anchor to help him process the dread of reality. On a typical night, all he has are his regrets and unanswered questions swirling around in his subconscious, but tonight is different – he falls asleep dreaming about being curled up against your warmth, wondering what it would be like for you to stroke his hair, gently reminding him that there's at least one good thing to wake up for, no matter how empty the day may feel.
As he falls deeper into his slumber, his eyelids begin to twitch and his long eyelashes tickle his flushed cheekbones. He finds himself lost within a dreamy state that feels so very real to him as your face fades into focus. You're kneeling beside him in the bed, and his body is covered in the sheets, with your arms wrapped underneath his shoulder. He can barely tell whether or not this is really a dream at this point as you rest your head against his. He can feel his body stirring and his tail twitching, roused by the comforting and blissful affection. The way you smile at him as you run your thumb along the curvature of his sharp jawline stirs a dormant ache in his soul as you lean forward and leave featherlight kisses in the crook of his neck, causing him to whimper under his breath. He buries his nose in the locks of your hair, desperately wrapping his arms around your waist, pushing your face deeper into the space between his neck and shoulder, craving the coziness and comfort of being physically close to the source of his yearning. In his dreams, your lips are able to be as soft and gentle as they are fierce and demanding, as the grip he has on reality grows weaker the longer he lets himself be trapped under the intoxicating spell you cast upon him, rendering him at the mercy of his deepest desires.
His breath becomes more labored and hitched, his temperature rising as a flush spreads across his face. His body starts moving involuntarily and he buries his hips further into his mattress, his aching cock desperate to be touched, throbbing as his precum smears against the sheets. He begins humping the bed, whining from the friction against his bare skin as he pulls you closer in his dream, shamelessly chasing after the erotic thoughts racing through his mind, fueled by the illusion of having you in his possession – ready to be ravished and worshiped by him and him alone. His full lips part as he moans your name. He thrashes around in his bed, a tingling, aching need radiates throughout his groin as his back arches off of the sheets, grinding his cock against the fabric of his blanket. He can almost feel the warmth of your body as he bucks his hips upwards once more, desperate for your heat. His fingers twitch as they clutch tighter onto the fabric, desperately trying to grab onto the illusion of you instead, wishing he could feel the texture of your skin underneath his fingertips. In his hazy state, he bites his lips and runs his fingers down his sculpted abdomen, his hand with a mind of its own, aching to reach lower. With a sigh of pleasure, he teases the tip of his leaking, throbbing erection as the muscles in his legs quiver with anticipation. He pushes his thumb against the slit of his tip, already wet with his excitement. He slowly rubs circles around his cockhead, causing his breath to hitch and his cock jerk at the sensation. In his unconscious mind, it's not his hand gripping his shaft – it's yours.
He wraps his large hand around the length of his dick, letting out a moan of pleasure as he starts to stroke, his pace increasing steadily with each pump, imagining what it would be like to have you kneeling between his spread legs, looking up at him as you jerk him off, begging to be fucked by him. His cock twitches and aches to be inside of you, to see your lewd expression as his dick fills you, his senses overwhelmed by the sight of you under him, sprawled out, sweaty and splayed wide open for the taking, gasping for air in between broken moans. His hips buck into his hand and he lets out a low growl as he feels the pressure building within him, feeling himself getting closer to the edge. He quickens the pace as he squeezes the base of his cock, stroking faster and faster, trying to keep up with the intensity of his dream. He wants to feel your velvety walls squeezing around him, milking every drop of cum from his throbbing cock. He pants heavily as the sensation of ecstasy courses through his body, moaning your name as he orgasms, his back arching off of the bed as he cums all over his hand, shooting thick ropes of hot cum onto his abs. He slows his pace, riding out his orgasm, lazily stroking his cock as it pulsates through his veins, feeling the aftershocks of pleasure tingling down his spine. With a final moan of satisfaction, he collapses on his bed, utterly spent from his activities. The euphoria of his orgasm fades away as he comes back to reality, slowly finding himself coming into consciousness. As he opens his eyes, the first thing he sees is the mess he made. He groans as he rolls out of bed, annoyed that he has to clean up after his wet dream before he can go back to sleep.
💛 Leona who is pining after you... falls into despair when he realizes his stupid feelings for you aren't going away – they're actually getting stronger by the day. You’ve made him feel like the world's not actually so cruel anymore, but he knows that his tiny, fragile castle is sure to crumble at any moment. Nothing good ever stays his way, does it? He's been telling himself that this was all some game. It's not like he actually wanted to be in a relationship with you, right? That would be far too much work. But what if you were actually worth the time? What if he could have someone who knew every aspect of his being and still loved and accepted him? What if he could be the person who's worthy of your beautiful, unrelenting love? Even as he chastises himself for entertaining the possibility of a relationship with anyone – especially a herbivore like you – a desperate, longing ache burrows into his bones, overpowering the cold, empty hollowness within him that had haunted him his whole life. This can't be love that he's feeling, and if it is... he knows now that love is the only strategy game in existence he's terrible at playing. There's no doubt in his mind he'll make the worst decisions imaginable because his entire being is clouded with insecurity. He is painfully aware that if he were to ever open himself up to the possibility of being with you, then his first thought would be of a thousand ways you would hurt him. He tortures himself with worries and fear, letting himself be consumed by anxiety.
The thing that frightens him most is becoming reliant on someone else for his happiness. Having someone whose opinion he actually values not thinking he is good enough for them is his worst nightmare. If there's one thing life has taught him, it's better to not have anyone at all. Besides, he doesn't even deserve you. There isn't a soul in this world who deserves someone like you – someone so selfless, understanding, empathetic, and forgiving. If you were his, you'd suffer. Your light would slowly flicker out from the darkness he would drown you in, just like everything else in his life that ever mattered to him. There is so much beauty to you that would go to waste in his care – why would someone as perfect as you ever settle for someone like him, anyway? There's no way you'd ever return his feelings. And even if you did… could he even be brave enough to allow you in? Does he have the strength to accept a heart freely offered to him? Will the scars and darkness within him allow him to accept such pure and unconditional love? He can't possibly be selfish enough to ask you to take the chance on him. You deserve to be with someone who is strong and complete – someone who can give you their whole being, wholly and unreservedly – not someone who is afraid of showing weakness, for fear of you leaving him broken-hearted. Someone who would actually have the capacity to love you like you should be loved. Not a broken, shattered shell of a Prince that could only ever give you pieces of his heart that are full of cracks.
Why the fuck does his chest hurt just thinking about the fact that you would be better off without him? It feels as if someone were stabbing his heart repeatedly, and no matter what he does, the wounds refuse to close and the blood continues to ooze through the cracks. He stares up at the dark ceiling of his dorm room as a single tear rolls down his cheek for the first time in years as he tries to cope with this excruciating feeling of hopelessness, despondency, and despair. The fear that you will one day be gone from his life grips his soul, his heart pleading with him to simply confess, yet his twisted mind forces him to remind himself of his inadequacy. What a sad, pathetic sight you would see, the once fearsome lion, pitifully pawing at your ankles as his heart poured itself at your feet, praying for the warmth of your love and the validation of your approval.
💛 Leona who is pining after you… hates how obsessed he is with you and your opinion of him. Every day he finds himself trying to be better because you make him want to try harder to make the world a brighter place. Maybe you're right, maybe he doesn't need to be King in order to lead people and do great things. Because of the friendship you two have nourished, he finally feels comfortable opening up to you and talking to you about what he's going through: his past, and how much he truly cares about everyone's safety, success, and overall happiness – a sentiment that's foreign to everyone who's ever known him in the past. Although he still can't bring himself to vocalize his emotions aloud, you now truly understand the message his eyes are always trying to relay, no matter how small the glimpse: even if he was destined for a fate in the shadows, his biggest hope is to someday become the leader he was supposed to be. His newfound vulnerability allows you to slowly chip off the armor that guards his heart and bring him peace, healing his wounded spirit. Because of you, he now understands what it feels like to be valued and treasured by another, and he feels empowered enough to put the effort into doing something to change his future for the better. It scares him how badly he wants to impress you, wanting you to be proud of how he's matured.
Before taking on the daunting task of bettering his Kingdom, he starts with something small – making a positive difference in your life. You actually make him feel useful. He loves the way you look up at him with admiration. He knows now that one of the reasons he fell for you so hard is because you always ask for his advice – knowing damn well he's the smartest person in this godforsaken place – and you actually take it. You listen to him and you value his opinions. Seeing things work out for the better when you take his advice and enact his plans gives him a rush of pride and confidence. It motivates him to keep working hard to have good ideas that benefit the world. He's always enjoyed helping people even though he's bad at putting it into words, or showing his true intentions, instead preferring to keep people guessing while he hides behind his indifference and nonchalant attitude. But now, thanks to you, he finds that the more time he spends caring about helping the people around him, the more understanding and honest he is with himself, the happier he becomes. He's feeling more confident stepping up to the plate, having less fear of letting himself or the other people he cares about down.
He started feeling honored to be the housewarden for Savanaclaw again and he actually takes the responsibility seriously, tackling issues and standing his ground with the students and teachers. He wants to set an example for others, making you proud of his actions by raising his standard. When it comes to issues in the school and within his territory, he's calm and diplomatic as he addresses issues – making sure everyone is heard and everyone walks away satisfied. No longer is he plagued by a lack of enthusiasm to make real, significant changes. He now genuinely enjoys himself, striving to go beyond his expectations to overcome his shortcomings, always pushing himself to think outside of the box. It's like the Leona of his past no longer exists, and he doesn't feel any resentment or shame at the thought, simply believing it's for the better that he finally has the strength to make room for a version of himself he can enjoy instead. Because of your guidance and patience with him, he’s slowly learning to no longer fight his introspective nature, instead choosing to work hard every day to embrace all aspects of himself – whether they be negative or positive. Every day is far from perfect, but he's allowing himself the respite of leaning on your shoulder, even though for now, it’s just as a friend and trusted ally, not as a lover. For the first time, he's happy with where his life is going and the person he is becoming. Through this whole experience of falling for you, he learned that there are still things worth fighting for, regardless of if you one day soon reciprocate his feelings or not. At least, that's what he keeps telling himself.
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I was nervous to write this because we all know that canon Leona leaves much to be desired when it comes to his story and the complexities of his character. I've spent over a year of loving him, meticulously crafting who I think he is and who I want him to be. Most days, I'm pretty sure Leona Kingscholar is just a character who exists solely inside of my mind, completely separate from the source material. So, if this resonates with you, I am very glad! Thank you for reading. I hope I was able to bring justice to my beloved Leona! If you would like to see this series with another character, please let me know. 💛 Erica Malleleothreesome
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deadhands69 · 5 days
Text
A Fantasy with Nice Shoulders
MDNI
Katsuki Bakugo helps you after you're hit with a sex quirk, based on the same idea as the Shigaraki one here
Katsuki Bakugo x gn/afab reader
All characters in 3rd year, over 18 and you should be too if you're reading this
Warnings/Content/etc: soft but slightly possessive Bakugo, swearing, very light violence, oral (m/f receiving), slightly public/people listening, sex (various positions), walk of shame.
*the start’s a little angsty but idk how to write anything that doesn’t turn into mushy fluffy smut 
**a lot of feelings of not consenting to being hit by the quirk, but the actual physical interactions are very much consensual/have been wanted for a while
***this one’s long, it got a bit out of hand [4.9k words]
“They thought it would be funny” you hear someone say. A black cloud of dust had just dissipated, leaving a shocked Monoma and Mineta in the middle. “I don’t think they actually realized how dangerous what they did is” added another voice. 
You had all heard of the sex quirk villain terrorizing the city. Every news station had been talking about it all week. 
While on patrol for his internship this morning, Monoma picked the villain’s quirk up attempting to apprehend him to no avail. After some brief convincing from Mineta, they assumed it would be a fun prank to make all of the fem-bodied 3rd years a little horny. What they didn’t realize is this quirk doesn’t just make people a little turned on, it drives them to insanity if not dealt with. 
“A new article was posted on this today, the effects are worse than previously assumed.” you hear Iida’s nearly robotic voice over the crowd “It can cause permanent damage to quirks and mental stability if intercourse isn’t acted upon promptly!”
Oh, I could fucking kill them you think before launching yourself across the room. Monoma dodges and yells that he’s so sorry and will make it right before running out the door to get help. Mineta on the other hand, is still in shock.
You make quick work of him, leaving him tied to a chair in the common area covered in bruises. The teachers will arrive soon with Monoma and they can deal with it. Turning away and walking to your dorm room, you hear him hurling some insult at you but can’t be bothered to listen.
Most of your classmates are trickling out of the area. Fortunately, the others in your class affected by the quirk all seem to be taken care of. Your best friend Shoto is even leaving with his crush. You’re happy for him but can’t say it doesn’t hurt a bit that he didn’t bother to check on you. It’s not a big deal though, Momo needs help. 
And you’ll be fine. 
You think. 
Or maybe you won’t be.
The happiness for your friends using this as a catalyst to confess to their crushes feels sharply in contrast with the overwhelming loneliness and dread you feel walking back to your room alone. Sure, you have a crush on someone too but he left earlier this morning and you didn’t expect him to be back until tomorrow night. Bakugo frequently leaves on the weekends to visit his parents.
You consider texting Denki or Kiri for his number but they just left with their crushes as well and you’d rather not interrupt them. 
Besides, even if Bakugo was here, you don’t think that would make much of a difference. To put it lightly, he doesn’t seem to be into you. When you and Shoto hang out in the common area like you always do, his red eyes glare at you from across the room. Just seeing you seems to put him in a bad mood. He doesn’t even yell at you like everyone else, seeming to ignore your mistakes as if they aren’t worth his time to correct. He did argue with you once, the first day of school but when you threw it back at him he just stared at you. After that, he always seemed indifferent. It was disappointing, his sass seems like it could be fun sometimes. 
You’d since written it off as a lost cause and tried to move on. Still, there’s something that draws you to him that you can’t quite place. Something in his eyes that hints things could be different. 
You close the door to your dorm, comforted by the familiar space. Iida’s words ring out in your head again “...permanent damage...”
That’s just one article, maybe this won’t be as bad as they say you think before a dizzy spell makes you double over.
Flopping face first into your bed, you scream into your pillow.
Katsuki Bakugo just got back from the gym, walking into an uncharacteristically deserted common room. It is Saturday, right? His eyes light up when he sees Mineta still bound to the chair you left him in.
You didn’t fucking ask for this.
Someone finally snapped, good for them. He’s a little sad to have missed it. 
“What happened?”
Mineta stammers at the looming figure above him before blurting out random bits of the story. “t-the villain. Sex quirk. And Monoma- we thought it was harmless but then-”
Of course he’d heard all about this quirk, who hadn’t. Clearly Mineta.
“Are you that fucking stupid?”
“N-no we just thought-” 
Bakugo was losing interest, having put the dots together by now. At this point, Mineta was rambling how it would be okay, listing the names of their classmates who had left together.
“Jiro and Kaminari, Ochaco and Midor-”
“Raccoon eyes and Red, [y/n] and Icy Hot, yeah yeah”
“What? No. Todoroki didn’t leave with [y/n], he left with Momo.”
“Huh?” Curiosity replacing the disappointment in his voice. “Who’s with [y/n] then?”
“No one, they left alone. Serves them right. That delinquent’s the one who did this to me!”
“Glad someone finally did,” Bakugo mutters under his breath, smacking Mineta with a small blast while walking past him to the stairs.
Back in your room: you’re losing it. Every article says the same thing: you’re fucked. You’d read as many as you could before the overwhelming desire became too much to handle and you couldn’t keep track of the sentences anymore. You tried to fix it yourself too, but no matter how hard you tried your touch only seemed to amplify the problem. Leaving you feeling overheated, your panties desperately drenched. It’s only been fifteen minutes, this will get even worse.  
“Oh come on, you can’t just leave me here - wait!”
KNOCK KNOCK KNOCK.
It’s probably one of your friends, you think, wondering who would bang so loudly on your door (also who finished that quickly????) In the heat of the quirk, you’d taken off your hoodie - leaving you in a nearly see through white tank top and the tiny athletic shorts you’d been wearing all day. Your friend’s wouldn’t care though.
KNOCK KNOCK.
You make your way to the door, thighs clenching around your aching groin as you walk. Swinging it open, you find yourself face to face with a black skull hoodie. Your heart nearly jumps out of your chest before remembering, he doesn’t like you. And he’s not even supposed to be here this weekend. Why’s he here?
“Bakugo, why are you here?” you grumble, sounding much more gruff than intended.
“Uh, nice to see you too?” his fingers tap impatiently on the door frame next to your shoulder.
“Any other day, I’d love to word spar with you but today I just can’t.” you turn to close the door.
“Why? Are you mad your crush left with someone else?” 
“What?” you rub your eyes in confusion before getting distracted. Bakugo is hot in workout clothes on a normal day. This quirk was rendering it nearly impossible to concentrate on his words. Not with the way every muscle in his thighs appears to be sculpted into his pants, leading up to his-
“Icy Hot.” he repeats himself, “He left with pony tail. ‘s why you’re pissed, right?”
Oh, that. You’d forgotten about that.
“What? No. Shoto and I are just friends. Besides, he’s had a crush on her forever and she needed his help.” you say blankly.
“You needed help too though,” that one stung. He continues, “sounds like a shitty friend if you ask me.”
“Look. If you’re just here to criticize my friendships, I can’t deal with it right now. Are you done?“ your voice breaks. You step back slightly, hoping to hide in the dimness of your room. He’s not wrong, but you really don’t want him to see you cry. 
“I-” he notices the tear in the corner of your eye and knows that one hit too close. He’s off to a bad start. If he keeps talking like that, you’ll definitely slam the door in his face. 
Much more quietly he tries again. “Look. I didn’t mean to- fuck, I’m so bad this.” Biting his lip, he wipes his hands on his pants before shoving them in the front of his hoodie. His cheeks flush, making the scar under his eye look pale in comparison. Is he nervous? That can’t be it.
Regaining his composure, he looks back at you. “I came to see if you’re okay, if you n-need anything.” 
It’s the most quiet you’d ever seen him. He can’t look you in the eyes. Glancing down, he notices how see-through your shirt is before quickly looking away. He focuses hard on the walls of your room, hands still deep in his pocket.
Of course you’d always wanted Katsuki Bakugo in your dorm room, but assumed it would be different. You imagined that one day he’d start fighting with you like everyone else and fighting would turn into play fighting which would turn into him being nice every once in a while. You always assumed, under his prickly exterior, he’d be soft and sweet inside. You’d never seen it though. Not even when the prettiest girls in your school threw themselves at him, only to be on the receiving end of an explosion. Still, you hoped maybe one day you’d be the one who could break through that, finding something loving underneath. Your crush was all built on a fantasy, but it was a nice fantasy. A nice fantasy, with nice shoulders. 
Back to reality.
He at least thought to be here now, which is better than the apathy you were used to. It’s a start.
Closing the door behind him, you turn to walk back to your bed when the world shifts. The dizziness had been coming in waves, this is just another one. You could expect it now. Tensing to hit the ground, you’re engulfed by his athletic arms instead.
“Come in,” you whisper “I really don’t want to be alone right now.”
“Holy shit [y/n], you okay?” he holds you in his arms, looking down at your face.
“Oh, yeah. This has just been happening,” you trail off, hardly aware of what you’re saying. You’re trying to find up from down, only to find every direction your body leads you to is him.
“This has been happening the whole time??” his clenched jaw could easily be mistaken for anger but the waver in his voice gives away his concern. He doesn’t seem to mind you grasping his sweatshirt to right yourself. His body feels warm against you, much warmer than you - making you wonder how he’s managing to be so overdressed right now. Pulling closer, he feels firm under his soft worn hoodie. He smells like laundry detergent and deodorant, with a subtle sweetness. The throbbing in your tight shorts worsens, the quirk-induced ache leaves you feeling empty. You need more of this. More of him.
The dizziness passes and you’re back on your feet. He lets go of you but keeps his arms near as you steady yourself against the wall. 
Deep breath. If your friends managed to confess to their crushes today, you can too. Your situation might be a bit different, but he’s not stupid. He knew very well what he was walking into when he showed up. He has to expect this.
Here it goes. 
“Bakugo?”
“Yeah? D’ya need somethin?”
“I need your help.”
“Whaddya need?”
“You.”
He nods, understanding. “Yeah. I can do that.”
“Really?” That’s all it took? Holy shit.
“Pshh. What kind of a damned hero would I be if I can’t even fuck a sex quirk out of ya?” the mock confidence would normally make you cringe but he stepped closer and your face is now inches from his. His hands move to the wall behind you, caging you between his arms. Looking down at you, he pauses.
He wants to throw you on the bed. To shove you face first into the mattress and make you scream his name all day for every other girl in the dorms to hear while they’re being awkwardly fumbled by amateurs. He wants to fuck you as hard as he can, so good it’ll ruin anyone else for you. He wants to make everyone jealous of you. 
But when he’s right here with you. 
When he leans in closer. 
His lips barely brush against yours. 
Bringing his arms down from the wall, he cups your cheeks. Holding you softly, pulling you in closer but just as sweet. It isn’t the rough boldness you would expect from him, but it was explosive in its own way. Every subtle move of his lips drags up wishful feelings you’d been burying deep inside you for the past three years.
He pulls back for air, his heavy eyelids opening to see you confused at him.
“Oh.” you breathe.
“Did I do somethin wrong?”
“No, I just didn't expect that.”
He rolls his eyes. 
“You’re just being… nicer than I expected,” you clarify. Understatement of the fucking year.
“’m never mean to you” he mumbles. Even in the low lighting you can see how hard he’s blushing. To hide his embarrassment, he closes the gap between your lips again - this time with more confidence. Mouthes pressing together, his tongue dancing with yours.
Taking this as an invitation to move forward, your hands embrace his body. Exploring every inch you’d only dreamed of. The soft skin of his neck you’d grown accustomed to staring at sitting behind him in class. The ridges of his back you watch flex under his suit when he’s training. You take off his sweatshirt to run your hands over his arms, his black tank top giving you a better view of the muscles and scars that cover them. Fingers lingering on every curve. You pull your hands from the top of his chest down to his thighs. Your touch veers up his inner leg when his hand grabs your wrist, stopping you.
Grimacing at himself for the pause, he bites his lip to collect his words.
He definitely can’t say he hasn’t thought about doing this with you. He has. Constantly. To a point, he maybe wondered if it was unhealthy. It’s actually the reason he went to the gym this morning, he needed to think of anything else but your ass in the tiny little shorts you were wearing while casually making a cup of coffee. The ones you’re wearing now, pressed up against him.
But having you now? Like this?
“Wait.” His voice is gritty but softer than you’d expect.“What?” 
“Things ain’t gonna be weird with us, right?”
“No weirder than ever. Why?” 
He looks away momentarily. Not wanting to say it if you hadn’t been thinking the same thing. For his own sake though, he can’t bring himself to leave this unaddressed.
“Cuz I skipped a few steps, I was supposta take you out and stuff first.”
“Well, I’ll let you know to ask me out in advance next time I plan to get hit with a sex quirk.”
“‘m serious. ‘m not fucking this up.” 
“You can take me out later.” you smile, his eyes soften looking into yours. Something in his stare makes you melt like ice cream on a summer day. Is this the sweetness you’d always dreamed of?
Feeling too hot, you take off your tank top, throwing it on the ground nearby. His eyes drop and the corner of his mouth creeps into a smile. His hands move to your waist before gliding up to trace the shape of you. He follows your lead - pulling his shirt off and exposing the scars scattered over his toned body.
Granting your own wish, your hands trail down the V along his hips and into his pants. Closer, you need to be closer.
Without thinking you drop to your knees. The pants don’t leave much to the imagination, his outline appearing rock hard already (and he didn’t even get hit with that quirk). Peeling back the fabric, his cock bounces out heavily. It’s massive in a way that would usually scare you but with the audaciousness of a sex quirk taking over your inhibitions, you only want it more. Grasping the soft skin with both hands, you bring the dripping pink tip to your mouth. You have to. It’s so beautiful and you need it. He gasps as your tongue lolls out and you bob your head forward.   
One of his hands finds your neck, thumb gently caressing the back of your head; the other planted on his own face leaning over you with his elbow into the wall to steady himself. You watch his abs flex with every heavy breath before your eyes find his.  
“Fuck, you’re so fucking good” he groans. You moan at the sound of his voice, sending vibrations through him.
He doesn’t last long. To be honest, he’s a little embarrassed by this but he really had been thinking about you in these shorts all day and didn’t expect this to happen. Less than a minute later, his hips are sputtering while he whimpers “wait, [y/n] gonna cum.”
Perfect.
Even in your throat, you can’t take him all the way in at this angle. Increasing the speed of your hands, you pull your mouth back enough to look up at his face again while still working his sensitive tip. His brows furrow and he bites his lip, exhaling hard while gripping your hair tighter. 
“Fuck… cumming” he whines through clenched teeth. His dick gushing in your mouth.
You stare up into his crimson eyes, licking him while letting his load drip through your lips down your chest. The astounded look on his face says he’s into it. 
Milking out the last drop, you let him gaze at you while catching his breath. You grab your tank top to wipe your chest and face off but he’s already pulling you up before you can finish. Pressing you back into the wall. His lips find yours as he cups his hand around your cheek.
“So fucking pretty,” he mumbles between kisses, “now it’s my turn.”
Suddenly, his strong hands grip the backs of your thighs. Not removing his lips from yours, he carries you across the room to your bed. Laying you across his lap, he takes the shirt still in your hands and finishes cleaning his cum off of you. Still worked up, every touch he gives is met with your moans. Noticing this, he works his hands around your body. Lightly grazing and squeezing where he pleases. Taking off the shorts he’d been daydreaming about removing all day. You’re soaked through your panties, pressing hard into him as his fingers gently pass over you.
“Wanna sit on my face?” he asks, knowing you’re dying to grind into him any way you can.
Absolutely, you do.
A little too eagerly, you shove him back onto your bed - he doesn’t mind. First, you peel the wet fabric from between your legs. Climbing over him, you position yourself above his face. Your ankles slide under his shoulders, fingers tangling with his above his head to steady yourself. You slam into him, dropping harder than intended (okay, you really want this.) A bit rough, but you know Dynamite can take it. Slightly overwhelmed at your enthusiasm, he groans into you before his wet tongue laps at your folds. Sucking and biting at your clit as you ride his face. His hand follows over yours as you move to grip his blonde hair. 
You’re almost there.
KNOCK KNOCK.
“Hey, [y/n] are you okay in there?” Mina’s distinct voice sounds through your door, “we’re worried about you.”
“Yeah, I’m.. uhm. I’m good.” you yell back, trying (and slightly failing)  to control your breath.
Glancing down, Bakugo’s eyes light up. Without warning, he shoves his tongue into you. Your world spins.
“Fuckkk” you moan under your breath, gripping his hair harder. He’s enjoying this.
Of course the other hero students would immediately jump back into helping people, but now? There’s no way you’re answering the door right now.
Shoto inquires next,  “are you sure, we read more and-”
“Yeah, I’m- I’m fine!” you manage to get out before throwing your face down and exhaling hard into a pillow. You feel your pussy throb as you cream on his tongue. He’s still not slowing down, determined to make you break. His hands now squeezing hard around your thighs, pressing you into him.
“I think someone’s in there,” Mina giggles. 
“We should probably give them space, it’s the manly thing to do right?” Kirishima adds.
“Wait, I wanna know who it is!” Sero’s voice chimes in. 
How many people are out there??
“In that case,” Momo adds, “[y/n], I made these for you. I’ll leave them out here, okay? Hope you’re being safe!” Something slides under your door but you can’t make out what it is.
You continue to hold your breath, clenching around his relentless tongue.
Finally, their voices trail off down the hallway. Bakugo (you should probably call him Katsuki after that) lessens his grip allowing you to roll onto your bed. Pulling your face away from the drool and bite mark covered pillow, you start to catch your breath. He presses himself up, rubbing his messier than usual hair and wiping his mouth with the back of his hand. After a quick kiss on your forehead, his heavy footsteps make their way to your door and back before throwing a few condoms on your bedside table.
Useful. Thanks Creati.
He decides it’s his turn to be on top. With your legs wrapped around his hips, he slowly presses forward. His tip slides into your wetness and you feel yourself stretch around him. Bringing his lips to yours, he kisses you like earlier - soft, passionate. He’s being so sweet you wonder how this is the same person who was just tongue fucking you, trying to get you to scream while all of your friends listened. The same person who grumbled and rushed past you this morning without a hello.
“Ready now?” he grins at you.
Considering his glacial pace, you weren’t really sure when it happened: he bottoms out in you before pausing. You wrap your hands around the back of his neck, scratching them through his soft hair. Thoughts of who he was earlier blur away, taking in the feeling of him in you now. He slowly resumes movement. 
His tongue inside you felt amazing earlier, but his dick is even better. Hitting every sensitive spot you didn’t even know you had. He sucks your bottom lip into his, gently nipping as he picks up the pace. You’re panting hard, kisses becoming sloppier. He thrusts into you, harder and deeper.
“Fuck Katsuki,” you moan, “gonna cum.” 
“Do it. Cum on my dick,” he growls back, slamming harder into you.
Your throbbing cunt pulses around him while you scream in his ear (you'd feel bad but it's not like he can hear that well anyways.) Hands dragging down his back, pulling him in closer to you.
A jolt of pain amplifies your pleasure as his teeth connect with your throat. Biting down while he whimpers into your neck. You feel him pump into you, exploding white into you while you ride out the waves of your own orgasm.
As you both come down, you run your hands over his scared face. Wanting to cling to any moment of softness you can get from him. He closes his eyes, melting into your touch. 
“Thanks for your help,” you whisper in his ear.
“Help? Oh. Yeah,” his gravelly voice is soft against your cheek, “I’ve wanted to do that for a long time, you don’t have to thank me.” He pulls out, leaving you feeling empty again.
“How’re you feeling?” he asks, tying a knot in the condom before tossing it.
You stand up. No dizziness yet. You test your quirk. Almost back to normal.
He picks up another condom from the table, giving himself a few strokes before putting it on.
“Again?” you ask.
“You’re not through the quirk yet, are you?” His red eyes pierce through you and you know there’s no use trying to hide anything from him.
“Almost.”
“I can do better than almost,” he smiles and find yourself pressed into the wall again. His calloused hands running over you in contrast to his smooth lips leaving a trail of small pecks over your neck. 
In one fluid motion, he grips the back of your legs, pulling you up while sliding you back onto his dick - this time faster with more ease. You gasp, clutching his shoulders while he roughly thrusts into you. 
“ya feel so good on my cock, you’re doing so fucking good,” he chokes out between heavy breaths, "you look so fucking pretty taking me like that."
The pressure in your gut rises every time he pounds into you before spilling out, sending pulses of satisfaction through your whole body. You shove your head into his shoulder, crying his name while he fucks you harder. Toes curling as your heels dig into his back.
Before you can catch your breath, he throws you back on your bed.
Strong hands pull you onto your knees, your back arched, and face finding your pillow again. Grabbing your ass to bring you closer, he penetrates you again. His fast pace resuming, making you whimper into your pillow.
His hands find yours, bringing his elbows to either side of your shoulders. Groaning in your ear “ya sound so fucking pretty, louder for me,” as he plows into you. You scream, feeling yourself pulse around him as your pleasure cascades through you.
“Ka-katsuki” you whine, the sound of his name in your voice sending him over the edge.
With another hard thrust, he stutters his hips into you, exhaling hard. For the third time today, you feel him flex in you, filling the condom. You stop biting your pillowcase to look at him. His bright eyes staring back at you through heavy lids.
He thinks you look so fucked out and pretty on your tear-stained pillow.
“You did so good,” he breathes, “you feel better now?”
“Definitely”
Definitely better but 
So.
Fucking.
Exhausted. 
A sliver of light slices through your room. Your hands move across the bed but it’s empty.  Yesterday feels like a hazy dream. The ache between your legs reminds you it was definitely real. Your neck and hips are sore too, must have fallen asleep at a weird angle. Blinking your eyes open wearily, there’s a note on the pillow next to you. 
You know you should clean up more, go to the bathroom down the hallway but you’re so tired you can’t manage to do more than melt into your sheets. The last thing you remember before drifting off to sleep is Katsuki helping you get dressed for bed and wrapping himself around you.
Had to leave early this morning for extra training but let me buy you coffee. Text me when you wake-up and we can meet at that place on the edge of campus.
Katsuki xxx-xxx-xxxx
You check your phone. 
[you have 57 new messages and 14 missed calls] 
The latest few, from Mina, asking who’s in your room. Quickly, you swipe them away. That’s a long story and you’re not sure how you’ll tell it. You can deal with it later. You text Katsuki. 
You [heading out now, meet at the coffee shop?]
Katsuki [see you soon]
Getting ready in a rush, you quickly throw some pants on before brushing your teeth, pulling your hair out of your face, and heading down the stairs.
Walk normal you remind yourself on the way into the common room, trying to look like Katsuki hadn’t spent half of yesterday pounding his massive dick into you. The rest of the class doesn’t know that yet and considering that it’s new, you aren’t really sure if he wants them to know. That probably wouldn’t be the best way for them to find out, anyways. 
Ochoco’s voice beams behind you “Hey [y/n], you’re alive! We were so worried about you!” 
“Hey Ochoco! Yeah, I’m okay!” you yell back.
Hearing you’re awake, Mina runs from the couch to hug you. “Hey!!!” Her eyes widen. “You had a good night!” she says before giggling “I’ll text you!”
Mineta scoffs at the sight of you before getting far out of your way. Good.
Tsuyu, Iida, and Jiro all stare from the couch, they wave back politely but avoid eye contact. 
Denki high-fives you. 
Sero also high-fives you before running to the couch and handing Jiro money. Is this about beating up Mineta? They can’t possibly know about anything else.
Deku looks mortified. “Uhm.” He grabs at the collar of his shirt.
Is there something on your sweatshirt? Using the window by the exit as a mirror, you check.
Oh, shit. There’s more than something on your sweatshirt. 
Tiredly, you assumed the hoodie you woke up in was yours; this one has a big white skull on the front. Peaking out above that, a massive bite mark covers half your neck. You pull the hood up but it still doesn’t cover it.
You [just looked in the mirror]
You [why didn’t you warn me???]
Katsuki [now everyone knows ur mine 🧡]
[you have 8 new messages]
616 notes · View notes
tizirisadaoui · 2 years
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𝘁𝗮𝗴 𝗱𝗿𝗼𝗽
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cordeliawhohung · 6 months
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anyway, say thanks to the brain worms in the discord server for this one
dark!gaz/soap x fem!reader
Kyle and Johnny catch sight of you in a bar, and decide that you're much better off with them.
cw: non-con, dark content, alcohol, roofies, kidnapping, the boys are not very nice
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Bars weren’t your usual haunt, yet your date for that night managed to make you comfortable despite the crowded and stuffy building. Tucked in a booth in some out-of-the-way corner, the two of you nursed your drinks as you got to know one another, slowly testing the waters to see if it was worth seeing one another again. Though he had been a stranger at the beginning of the night, you found yourself sincerely enjoying his company. He was a bit of a nerd, whose eyes lit up when talking about the storyline to his favorite games, and you found it cute the way he had to keep adjusting his thick-lensed glasses while they slid down his nose. 
It wasn’t until he got up to use the bathroom that your eyes started to wander. Not on purpose, of course, as you would never be rude enough to abandon a date for someone else while the two of you were actively out. No, your eyes only wandered because someone else approached you, and it would be a lie to say he wasn’t the most goddamn beautiful human you had ever laid eyes on. His complexion was impeccable with smooth skin save for a small scar on his cheek, and the slight stubble made his polite smile more alluring. What really got you were his eyes. They were an enchanting dark brown that glistened in the dull yellow lights that lit the area, and you found your throat growing tight at the sight of him. 
“Evening,” he greeted. Fuck, even his voice was nice, and his tone was smoky and suave. All you could do was sit in your seat and stare up at him as he leaned a hand on the table, almost as if silently begging you to allow him in. “You look a little lonely. You haven’t been left high and dry, I hope?” 
Chuckling, you shook your head as you adjusted your attire, a little self conscious about having a specimen such as that stranger look at you. “No, no my date’s just in the bathroom.” 
Though there was a flicker of disappointment in his gaze, he did a good job at obscuring it for the most part. Instead, his smile widened, and he nodded his head in understanding. 
“Ah, so you’re tellin’ me I’m too late, then,” he chuckled. “Everythin’ going good, then? He’s not a nutter?” 
You couldn’t help but giggle at his concern, his sincere concern. Not only was he perhaps the most beautiful man you had ever seen, but he was a gentleman as well? Didn’t take rejection poorly at all and confirmed that you were safe? You wished your date had chosen some other pub to go to that night, because you were certain this man was attempting to put a spell on you. 
“Everything’s all good, thank you,” you confirmed with a smile. 
“Great. Well, if things start going south…” The man paused to look over his shoulder and gesture towards the bar. Among the other patrons, you quickly caught sight of the man he pointed out, as his mohawk stood out like a sore thumb. Then again, he was probably one of the largest — dare you say, beefiest? — people there, and it would have been impossible not to tell him apart in a crowd. “My friend and I will be here for a few hours still, in case you need us.” 
Once again you gave him a polite smile as you thanked him for his offer, and he sauntered back over to his friend with a courteous farewell. It was perhaps the kindest interaction you had ever experienced with a stranger in a pub before, yet it left you flustered all the same, so much so that you hardly realized that your date had returned until he sat across from you in the booth once more. Praying he didn’t notice your state of mind, you quickly raised your drink to your lips where you downed a few big gulps with the silent hope that you would forget all about that handsome stranger lest you looked like a whore to your date. 
Luckily the two of you picked up where you had left off, and for a while you had forgotten all about that man. You listened to your date talk about his studies in computer science, and an indie game he helped design, and you watched as everything began to tilt. Lights flashed in your face and when you tried to blink them away they wouldn’t leave, and you found your chest needing to heave in order to get a good breath in. Something felt wrong, yet you didn’t want to make a fool of yourself in front of your date, so you tried to hide it by taking another gulp of your drink. 
Nothing soothed your dizzy vision or your fuzzy mind, and it got so bad you couldn’t even understand what your date said anymore. All your energy focused on trying to keep yourself upright in that booth, but you wanted nothing more than to lay down. You were certain the cool wood of the table would feel intoxicating against your feverish skin, maybe you could do it, just for a moment… 
“What’s going on here?” 
That voice was one you didn’t recognize, and when you looked up to see who spoke, you could vaguely make out the fuzzy features of a large man with his hands leaned on the table. He was angry, with a sharp voice and a thick Scottish accent, but you didn’t know who he was. You felt like you should know, but you couldn’t place a name to his face. 
“Did you drug her?” the man questioned further. 
“No! I didn’t do anything!” your date attempted to defend. 
“Bull-fucking-shit, look at her!” 
Something grazed your arm, and usually you would jump at sudden sensations like that, but it felt so disconnected from your body that you didn’t even realize something had touched you until a voice prompted your attention. 
“You alright, doll?”
It was that kind man from earlier, and his voice was just as calm and polite as it was when he spoke to you before. You felt a response flit across your tongue, but you couldn’t make any sense of the words you said. A fit of shouting erupted from somewhere in the bar, and you felt the table shake, but you couldn’t find the emotions within you to care. 
Suddenly, things felt too heavy, as if the gravity of the earth increased tenfold. You realized you were standing, though you didn’t remember getting up from the booth, and the only reason why you hadn’t collapsed was because of the firm arm around your waist. Eventually cold air hit your face, and you felt your feet stumble along the pavement before you were gently placed into the back seat of someone’s car. You didn’t even bother trying to keep sitting upright, and instead laid yourself across the seats as you curled in on yourself. 
“Don’t worry, doll,” you were assured, “Soap and I will take good care of you.” 
A strange sort of darkness enveloped you after that, and it was the closest thing to death you had ever experienced. There were no dreams, or images that attempted to comfort you as your mind rotted away; there was nothing. Just an emptiness where you didn’t exist for a while. 
When your mind slowly started to drift into consciousness again, the first thing you noticed was the sound of smacking. It was as if someone consumed a meal without worrying about slurping too much, and the noises were loud and obscene. Your vision flickered back to life, and you were met with an unfamiliar scene. The ceiling above your head was not the ceiling to your bedroom, nor did it look like any ceiling you’d find in a hospital. Your head rested against something too firm to be a pillow, yet too soft to be the floor, and you did your best to get a better glance at your surroundings. 
You looked down at yourself only to realize you were completely naked. No underwear, no bra, not even your socks; every single article of clothing had been removed, and you were given nothing to cover yourself with. Two firm arms wrapped around your midsection from behind, and you realized that semi-soft surface you leaned against was a person who had you held in their embrace. All of that was bad enough, but you felt your stomach lurch and your still fuzzy mind scream when you saw what happened between your legs. 
That mohawked man you had seen at the bar earlier that night laid sprawled out on the bed in front of you with his mouth greedily devouring your cunt. You watched in pure horror as his tongue lapped at you, dancing along your clit and down to your tense hole, yet the sensation didn’t feel pleasant. It all felt muted, like you weren’t really there. He grunted into your heat as his hands gripped your hips like he was afraid his meal would run off without him, and he continued to devour you like it was the only thing that brought him pleasure. 
As if suddenly regaining control of your body, your hips bucked forward with a whine in some sort of odd attempt at escape, only to be held down by the man shamelessly eating you out. A dark chuckle reverberated in the body behind you, rattling your spine with the sensation, and you felt a pair of lips press against your bare shoulder. The man between your legs paused his assault on your cunt in order to look up at you with a wet-faced grin. 
“Have a good nap, bonnie?” he teased. 
Panic attempted to rise into your chest, but there was some sort of emptiness that prevented it from fully manifesting. This was wrong, really wrong, you knew because of the tight feeling in your core and your breath hitching in your throat. You couldn’t fully recall how you got there, stuck between two men, but you knew that the haziness of your mind must have had something to do with it. 
“What…?” Once more your mouth tried to form words but they would leave your lips half finished. The hands wrapped around your center slowly wandered up to your tits where you felt yourself being squeezed at, which prompted you to further stutter. “I… don’t…” 
“Remember what I said?” the man behind you spoke up. That beautiful, dastardly man. “Soap and I are taking care of you, so just relax, yeah?” 
The man between your legs, Soap, pulled away from you and sat back on his haunches as he assessed you. His eyes were a pretty shade of blue, and had he not just violated your unconscious body, you might have considered him handsome. Instead, the sight of him made you close your eyes and twist your face away as if you couldn't stand the sight of him. You wanted to vanish, to turn into mist and drift away into the stale, sweaty air that threatened to suffocate you, and right when you thought you almost managed that feat, you were painfully brought back to reality when you felt two thick fingers force their way into your cunt. 
The stretch burned, your body not yet fully prepared for it, yet you had already gotten so slick with Soap’s spit that it didn’t matter, he was able to do it with ease anyway. Your legs strived to flail and squirm, yet you hardly had the energy or ability to do so, and failed miserably. Soap’s fingers danced around inside of you accompanied by a symphony of lewd squelches and a throaty laugh. 
“Nice and wet, she is,” Soap crooned. “What’dya say, Garrick? Wanna have a go at her?” 
Whatever his response was, you were unable to make it out, but you did feel him wiggle out from behind you. Every muscle in your body spasmed as you were lowered onto the mattress, and your eyes flickered open just in time to watch Soap slip off of the bed and for the other man — Garrick? — take his place. Warm hands gripped the exposed flesh of your thighs, and you felt yourself get yanked closer to him, and the sudden movement nearly made you puke. 
“Please- I-” you gasped, still incapable of expressing yourself. 
“What a sweet girl,” Garrick cooed while one of his hands reached up to undo the button and zipper on his pants. “Hear that, MacTavish? Hear her begging?” 
Dull pain blossomed at the base of your skull as you felt your head lift off the bed. Soap held you by your hair, insisting that you look down at yourself as Garrick’s cock sprung free from the confines of his jeans. It was impossible for your eyes to fully focus on anything, to make sense of it, but you were able to comprehend the sheer size of him, his length much too long to fit into you unprepared. You tried to turn away, to ignore it and pray it would all stop, but you couldn’t with Soap’s firm grip. 
“‘Course she is,” he chuckled, lips brushing against your ear. “Sweet and naughty always go hand in hand.” 
A small gasp escaped your lips as you felt the tip of Garrick’s cock press against your cunt, and you had no choice but to stare down at the vulgar scene between your legs. His hands slid along your hips until they were under your thighs, and he gently lifted your legs up, adjusting the angle of your hips. 
“Please, I don’t… think I want this,” you said with a cry. They were the first coherent words you were able to speak, and they were met with a laugh. 
“You don’t think so?” Soap teased. “A bit too late for that now, bonnie. GOt the man all worked up, and I don’t think he wants’ta stop.” 
When Garrick sunk himself into you, your cunt nearly choked him from how tight and unprepared you were, yet his brute force was enough to overcome your body’s resistance. Your mouth fell open in a silent sob, and your back arched off the bed as if that movement alone would save you. Instead of beginning his thrusts, Garrick stayed still, completely buried inside of you as he let out a hiss. 
“Christ, you’re so damn tight,” he cursed. 
Soap’s fingers suddenly slipped out of your hair, and without his strength supporting your head, it crashed back onto the mattress. A throb reverberated throughout your body, and the blood gushed in your ears so loudly you almost didn’t notice the sound of him undoing his belt next to your face. While Soap fished his own cock from his pants, Garrick gently rocked his hips forwards as if to test the waters and grind his fat tip against the rubbery surface of your cervix. 
“Open,” Soap urged.
Your brain didn’t comprehend his command, and so you continued to lay there as you attempted to hold back your groans. Deciding to assist you, Soap reached a hand for your jaw, turning your head towards him, and giving it a good squeeze until your mouth fell open. 
“There we are,” he chuckled as he tapped your lower lip with his tip. “Now, no biting, else I’ll bite back.” 
When Soap pushed his cock into your mouth, there was an emptiness that enveloped your mind. There was no more fuzz, no haze or confusion, just nothing, but it only lasted for a short moment before reality barreled back at you. Garrick thrust into you with what started as a lazy pace, but then quickly turned into something more demanding, more snapping. All the while, Soap’s cock pressed so far into your mouth and down your throat you coughed to keep yourself from choking. When you reached up to try and push him away, the man took it as a compliment instead, and rested his hand over yours where it laid against his hip. 
Their groans were undignifying. You wanted to wail, wanted to thrash around and get them to stop using you for their pleasure, but whatever drugs that had been slipped into your drink rendered your body completely useless except for fulfilling their desires. So you laid there, stoic and limp with your eyes closed as you took it. If you could just get through it, it would be over eventually. It had to be. 
A sharp pinch to your nipple had you nearly yelping, and you were certain you would have burst their eardrums with your sob had your mouth not been occupied. Garrick’s pace slowed only slightly as he adjusted your legs a little with a huff. 
“Well don’t go breaking her,” he grumbled. 
“Just tryna keep her awake,” Soap defended. “Besides…”
Once again his fingers came up to pinch your nipple, and it was impossible to hold back the tears welling in your eyes as you cried out once more. He grinned down at you as he used his thumb to wipe at the tears, almost as if he refused to acknowledge their existence. 
“She sounds so perfect squealing, especially with my cock in her mouth.” 
The pace at which Soap then abused your mouth was so brutal you completely lost the ability to breathe. Ignoring the tension in your throat, he pressed himself as far as he could go with so much force you were certain you would bruise. More tears continued to stream down your face as you held back the urge to puke, but eventually you were offered solace as he suddenly yanked himself out of your mouth. 
You coughed and sputtered on the build up of spit in your throat, and you powerlessly laid there with a burning neck and throat. Judging by his guttural groaning and the heavy throbbing of his cock, Soap had edged himself pretty bad, and you tried not to grimace at the sight of his reddened tip. Your mouth wasn’t able to rest for long, though, as you quickly found a few fingers pressed against your tongue, just as brutal and unforgiving as everything else he did to you. 
“Steamin’ jesus,” he groaned. He pulled his fingers out of your mouth where they dripped your spit along your bare chest. It left you feeling sticky and gross, and you whined as you felt those wet fingers begin to toy with your clit. “Good at everything, arent’cha bonnie?”
Panting like a bitch in heat, you felt a terrible pressure build up in your stomach. Between Garrick’s thrusts, which had only started to grow more ruthless, and Soap’s fingers rubbing annoyingly pleasurable circles against your abused cunt, you knew you were going to come undone. It was terribly unfortunate to know that you were going to give them that satisfaction, that your fucked out and drugged up brain would give into them so easily, and you found your face wrenching with a sob. 
“Oh fuck,” Garrick huffed as his hips stuttered. “K-Keep that up. Bloody hell, she’s so fuckin’ close I can feel it.” 
Soap didn’t let up at all, nor did he speed up either. It was like he knew how to push your buttons all too well, knew exactly what he needed to do in order to coax your orgasm out of you. You felt it build and build until it crashed so hard it stole your breath, searing you from the inside out. Garrick let out a wanton groan as your cunt fluttered around him, and he pounded into you more roughly than he had been until he suddenly held himself inside of you. 
He leaned his head back as he came and gave a few more lazy thrusts into your cunt. Your mind reeled at the realization that he came inside of you, and your thoughts buzzed as you knew there was no protection involved, that these sick fucks might get you pregnant. When he pulled out of you, your hands instinctively reached down between your legs as if scooping his cum out of you would save you from whatever fate they had written for you. 
“What’s wrong, not enough for you, doll?” Garrick chuckled as he slid off the bed. 
Your legs limply fell onto the bed without his hands there to hold them up, and your eyes fluttered shut as you bit into your bottom lip. You wouldn’t give them the satisfaction of seeing you broken, and you certainly wouldn’t give into their jests, either. Yet, as the mattress sunk in once more, you came to the painful realization that things were not over. 
A new pair of hands slipped underneath your knees, and your legs were pushed so close to your chest, you could nearly kiss them. Soap got a bit more intimate with you than Garrick had, and before his cock even brushed against your cum-soaked hole his lips were on yours, smothering out any protest. You could taste the pint he had at the bar earlier that night, along with the vague taste of your heat, and it only grew stronger when he slipped his tongue into your mouth, wet and nasty. 
When he finally pushed into you, he ate up your gasp as you quickly realized he was much girthier than Garrick was. The stretch was unfamiliar, and burned, yet there was virtually no friction; nothing to hold him back from bottoming out. He hummed into your mouth before pulling away and allowing you to take a proper breath, but even then you could still feel his grin against your lips. 
“I know you’re tired, so I’ll make it quick, bonnie. Promise,” he claimed. 
He said those words as if you should have thanked him for being so considerate, and yet it ignited a sort of anger inside of you that you were unable to feel before. The drugs they had given you must have started to wear off, because every emotion and sensation suddenly increased tenfold as he began to snap his hips against yours. Every ache burned like you were on fire, which only raged more as you reached up and pressed your hands against his chest as if you actually had a chance of pushing that broad monster off of you. 
“Now, now,” Garrick tsked, “be nice.” 
Kneeling next to the bed, the man grabbed your wrists and pulled them above your head, and you hated just how vulnerable it left you. As if you hadn’t been vulnerable that entire night. Those sick freaks certainly had planned it all out. Slipping a roofie into your drink during your conversation while your date was away, blaming it on your date, and taking you back to their place to have their way with you. You didn’t even want to think about how many other girls they had in that bed before you. 
“No, just- just stop,” you squirmed. 
“Soon, love,” Garrick cooed. “Soap’s getting close, I can tell. You know, he’s always been one for praise. I’m sure he’ll show you a little mercy if you say thank you.” 
As Soap’s face buried into your neck, you could feel his breath hit your skin, and you couldn’t help but grimace at the feeling. What the hell was he trying to recommend you do? Thank him? 
“No,” you replied, your tone biting. 
It wasn’t long after you defied him that a squeaky gasp left you as Garrick grabbed a hold of your jaw. His grip was not kind, nor was it relenting, and he turned your head to face him with a slight jerk. 
“I’m not asking, doll. You’re gonna say thank you. Thank you Johnny. Don’t make me tell you again,” he said with a tone you had yet to hear from him. Between the biting grip on your face and his threat, you couldn’t help but sob and give in, lest they do something worse. 
“T-Thank you, Johnny,” you mumbled. 
“Can’t hear you,” Garrick warned. 
“Thank you, Johnny!” you cried. 
Your second attempt was what finally did the man in. Though his thrusts continued at their same, brutish pace, he came long and loud with pathetic grunts in your ear. Garrick finally relinquished your face and hands, and you automatically held onto the man filling you with his cum as if you’d fall through the bed without him. Once Soap — or were you really supposed to call him Johnny? — gave you the last of his spend, he planted a quick kiss against your cheek before rolling off of you, pulling himself out of you in the process. 
“Christ, Kyle. Wasn’t sure you knew how to pick ‘em but goddamn… should keep her around, aye?” Johnny chuckled as he fastened his pants. 
Aching, sore, and exhausted, you rolled onto your side as you watched the two men straighten out their clothes. A quick glance at the floor around you revealed yours weren’t to be found, and you couldn’t remember just when they had ripped them off of you. A terrible pounding ravaged your head, and all you wanted to do was sleep. 
“I wanna go home,” you spoke up, voice small. 
Kyle, grinned as he ran a hand over your hair. “This is home, doll. Rest up, yeah? Gotta save up your energy for tomorrow.” 
His words had wiped all sense from your mind, and you weren’t able to come up with a response as he rose from the floor and turned his back towards you. Tomorrow? No, no they couldn’t keep you here, locked up like some animal, some fucking toy to play with whenever they wanted. And yet still, all you could do was lay there as you watched them saunter out of the room, completely fulfilled as you laid empty and broken in that bed. 
The door closed and locked behind them with a simple click, and that’s when you finally allowed your tears to flow freely. Keeping quiet, you slapped a hand over your mouth to muffle the pathetic sounds as best as you could, refusing to let them hear just the effect they had on you. That night, you had nothing to lull you to sleep except for the sounds of whatever video game they had started up in the living room, and their joyous laughter as they continued on with their lives with no concern for their new toy.
665 notes · View notes
jenscx · 6 months
Text
HAPPINESS — yu jimin x f!reader
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jimin made you feel like life was worth living for.
TAGS — situationship, strangers to lovers, ive member!yn, jealousy, angst, fluff, birthday fic for jimin
WORDCOUNT — 3.8k
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it hadn’t been long since you and karina met. by luck, she was attending a fashion show and had gravitated to you during the after-party. it was an unforgettable experience; one of the most gorgeous idols constantly hovering around you, eyes lingering on the silky black, backless dress you adorned, fingers dancing across your arms… needless to say, you had immediately asked for her contact information, only to receive a cryptic smile in return.
“why not just,” she whispered, “come back to my place instead?”
you had instantly declined, “i’m sorry, i don’t do that. and don’t you live with your members anyway?” karina merely shrugged, eyes twinkling with a gleam you couldn’t name. 
“then shouldn’t we go back to yours?”
exasperated, you shake your head, “i just said, i don’t do that. i was interested before, and you are jaw-droppingly beautiful, but i’m not intending to go anywhere tonight, karina.”
the girl hesitated for a few seconds. you raised an eyebrow. she grins, “call me jimin.”
it had only been a month since that interaction. since then, your relationship has progressed. from strangers to friends and now tethering on the edge of a relationship. or as your member yujin had described, a ‘situationship’. it was so easy to open up to jimin, her sweet talk, midnight chats and relentless insistence to annoy you had captured your attention. she was so stupidly cute. 
you had fallen. 
and jimin seemed to have as well. 
no one would stay up till midnight talking to a situationship unless they really liked them, right? 
and even though jimin had a schedule the next day, you and her were still in a heated discussion about which ice cream flavour was the superior one (it was always vanilla).
the alarm on your phone rang. in bright words read, ‘milan fashion show.’ you smile to yourself. it was another chance to see jimin after her hectic schedule. you barely had time to see her during her break, and now your schedules finally matched up. you couldn’t wait to see her.
jiminie [7.41am]:
hihihi good morning
i’ll see u ltr :))
ynie [8.20am]:
morning!
can’t wait. 
you turn your phone off with a bright grin, barely keeping your excitement under wraps. your flight was at 10 and by the time you reached milan, it would be around 11 in the evening. it was going to be a long flight, but the thought of seeing jimin again made your stomach tighten up. was this what people in relationships feel? it was so bizarre that the simple thought of someone could so easily make you feel breathless. 
unable to contain your exhilaration, you get some weird stares from your manager and assistants. meekly apologising, you close your eyes as they drive to the airport, dreaming of a certain main dancer.
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you blink. how did you get here?
jimin, was just standing a few feet away from you, but she had barely spared you a glance the whole day. she didn’t even greet you or anything. even after the crew had asked for you two to stand together, jimin was at least a metre away, not daring to stand in your vicinity. you could cry.
especially with the heart eyes every other person was sending her way. you swallow the lump in your throat, staring at the man who stood a little close for comfort next to her. and throughout the show, you could only stare longingly at the back of her head, sighing every once in a while when the two of them would pose. it was devastating.
“you good?” one of the other attendants asked. you think you recognise them from a recent drama you’ve watched.
“yeah,” you mumble, taking a sip of the champagne in your glass. at the corner of your eye, you could see jimin and that man conversing, both sharing giggles and whispers. your grip on the glass tightens. groaning, you look away, trying to hide the hurt on your face from being ignored so obviously. all your attempts at conversation had been shut down and she brushed past all your waves.
you saunter to the corner, taking a seat and pulling out your phone.
yujin [9.27pm]:
how’s it gg
yn [10.14pm]:
it’s like i don’t even exist.
i don’t know what i should do
she keeps talking to some guy
yujin [10.15pm]:
girl gtfo
you agree with yujin. if karina wanted to ignore you, so be it. there was nothing for you to do anyway. after sending a quick message to your manager, you get back up, heading back to the group of actors and idols alike that were engaged in conversation.
coincidentally, karina and her partner for the night had joined as well. it wasn’t difficult to avoid eye contact when she wouldn’t even look in your direction.
“i’ve requested for more champagne,” one of them say, “anybody wants a refill?”
a murmur of chorus emerges.
the waiter stares at your glass expectantly, the bottle in his hand waiting.
“ah… no, i’m leaving soon,” you say awkwardly, handing your glass to another waiter passing by. karina’s head shoots up.
“shame,” they all agree.
“your manager’s picking you up?” karina finally speaks. you longed for her voice, but you’re not very appreciative of it now.
you nod, barely wanting to start a conversation with the girl.
“i’ll walk you out.”
can you really refuse in front of all these people? you already had a reputation of being a bitch. refusing karina’s offer was going to severely damage your image.
you just hold your tongue.
the cold air greets you warmly, unlike karina. you relish in the gusts of wind, waiting patiently outside the gala for your manager’s distinguishable car. karina hums a gentle tune, turning to you.
“how was the show?”
“good,” you reply, curt.
karina doesn’t back down.
“you had fun?” you nod.
“i didn’t get to talk to you at all, it’s sad you’re leaving now.”
you shrug.
“why are you leaving so early?”
“tired.”
“hm, okay.”
you stand in silence while karina fidgets beside you, her hands constantly twirling her hair and eyes darting around. cursing yourself, you take a quick glance at her. the girl’s deep, lush and dark hair flows charmingly in the wind. her eyes draw you in, hypnotising you deeply, full of uncertainty and hesitance for the first time you’ve met her.
“do you have something to say?” you ask. karina huffs, blowing her bangs covering her eyes.
“i do, but it just depends if you’ll listen to me.”
“depends on what you’re asking for,” you reply.
karina smiles, smaller than before, “stay. just for a few more minutes. with me.”
you contemplate. just for a few minutes.
“only until my manager comes.”
she falters, it’s the first time you’ve ever subtly rejected her company, but a practised mask of indifference is put on.
there’s an uncomfortable silence, one that neither of you are willing to acknowledge. you start to regret your decision; you should have just asked her to go back in, instead of waiting out here with you like a fool.
“minjeong’s been talking about this milan cathedral, called duomo di milano, it’s really pretty,” karina looks at you expectantly, “do you have the day off tomorrow for sightseeing?”
you answer slowly, “i do have the day off...”
“where are you staying? i’ll come pick you up.”
“but i don’t want to go, karina,” you complete your sentence. shock passes her face rather quickly.
“uhm, do you want to go somewhere else?”
you shake your head, wanting her to get the hint that you weren’t exactly jumping for the opportunity to hang out.
“we could go shopping at this galleria that aeri mentioned, it has a hotel and everything.”
“no, thanks for offering.”
karina’s tethering on the edge of distress, her face showing visible distraught by now, no longer caring to hide behind a mask of impassiveness. you check your phone again. notifications line your lock screen, most of them coming from yujin.
yujin [10.29pm]:
are u out of there yet
make sure to get back safe
also call me ltr i need to tell u smth
omg jiwon js told me she left seo at home alone
you smile at yujin messages. the leader’s caring nature makes your heart warm and the mention of your other members makes you miss them.
“your manager texting you?” karina asks.
“uh, no,” you reply vaguely, not very keen on talking to her. karina frowns.
“are you sick? do you feel unwell?” she lifts a hand up to touch your neck. the fleeting touch of her fingers already caused goosebumps against your skin.
“i’m fine, karina.”
the mention of her name makes her glare at you, “didn’t i say to call me jimin?”
unable to answer coherently, you settle for silence. karina huffs, seemingly getting irritated.
she opens her mouth once again, but the honk of a car distracts you. the window rolls down and you recognise your manager.
“thanks for uhm, staying here with me,” you bow, “have a good night.” you were upset, but that wouldn’t stop you from being polite.
karina merely watches you leave.
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your manager gives you about five minutes of peace and tranquillity before unleashing an onslaught of questions onto you, like “why’d you leave?” or “did someone say something to you?” you answer truthfully to most of his questions.
unable to get a proper response, he just drives back and tells you to not get into any trouble on your day-off.
(“what trouble would i even get into?”
“i’ll actually quit if dispatch posts a photo of you drinking with your friends.”
“that would be impossible since i don’t have any friends.”)
meanwhile, yujin fills you in on the stupid shit your members get up to during your absence. like rei putting aluminium into the microwave and wonyoung just managing to stop her in time.
your phone lights up with notifications throughout the night and you hate the fact that it doesn’t bring you the same excitement like before. the morning after, a chain of messages graces your phone.
jiminie [9.17am]:
are u awake?
jiminie [9.20am]:
when are u gg back to korea?
hello?
ynie [9.31am]:
tmrw
jiminie [9.31am]:
do u feel like gg out tdy?
you turn off your phone, sighing. you would have felt bad for being so distant but the mere thought of karina with that guy yesterday night made you feel unneeded. why was she texting you and asking to hang out with you when she already had someone to go to?
there was no point overthinking about her.
karina would just be another failed situationship. she didn’t mean that much to you (she did). she wasn’t the first thing you thought of once you woke up (she was). and she definitely couldn’t be a good girlfriend for you (she definitely could be).
the hotel doorbell rings. you quirk an eyebrow, not remembering ever ordering room service. maybe your manager knew you wouldn’t be going out for breakfast.
you don’t bother checking the peephole, the hotel you were staying at was very tight on security and only celebrities stayed at this floor. you open the door, stomach grumbling at the thought of food.
“yn.”
oh.
karina stands at your door, a small smile on her face. you feel terribly underdressed compared to her in your bathrobe and messy bed hair.
“good morning,” you greet hoarsely.
“hurry up and get dressed.”
you stop karina from entering your room.
“what are you talking about?”
“we’re going out whether you like it or not. you shouldn’t rot in your room, you should be exploring milan, before you leave, with me.”
do you really have a choice to say no? (yes, you do).
in your heart, you knew in the end, you wouldn’t ever say no to karina.
“okay.”
she grins and you forget why you were even upset in the first place.
karina waits patiently while you finish getting ready. she’s on the balcony admiring the view when you’re done.
“where are we going?” you grab a mask and a cap as karina puts on her shoes again.
“it’s a surprise, and you don’t need those,” karina answers, pointing at the items in your hand. you frown.
“people will recognise me. they’ll see me with you.”
karina shakes her head, “it’s fine, i don’t mind it.”
i mind it though.
you end up leaving them by your bedside table.
“where are we going?” you repeat as karina drags you out of the door. she groans, “stop asking! i already told you it’s a surprise.”
“i need to tell my manager.”
karina pouts, “i’ve already contacted him, just stop worrying about everything.”
her words seem so easy to believe now. to stop worrying about everything.
the streets of milan are filled with cafes and luxury brands. with it being one of the most visited cities, tourists and locals alike roam the area. at every corner, there’s either an art gallery or museum. you must admit that the architecture is simply amazing. quaint bookstores and coffee shops provide a sense of peace away from the bustling metropolitan city. milan was beautiful.
karina pulls you into a cafe, the strong aroma of coffee already filling your senses. there’s a quiet ambience of chatter and the soft footsteps of the waiters walking around. the girl brings you to one of the tables near the window. it gives you a view of a clothing shop adjacent to the cafe, full of customers.
“milan’s called a fashion capital,” karina remarks, “it’s one of europe’s most dynamic cities.” when you don’t reply, karina stands up, awkwardly saying, “i’ll go order our food.”
you nod.
she comes back soon, red in the face and fumbling with her wallet.
you ignore it.
“uhm, anyway, did you sleep well last night?”
“yeah.”
“okay… uh, what time is your flight tomorrow?”
“i think it’s in the morning,” you feel pity for karina who’s been desperately trying to keep the conversation going, “what about you?”
karina’s face lights up, “it’s at one in the afternoon.”
the waiter soon arrives with your food. its mouth-watering. karina hands the waiter a note and says something in italian that you don’t understand.
“you can speak italian?” you ask, curiosity taking over you.
“yeah, a little,” karina mumbles. she doesn’t seem to want to elaborate, so you don’t bother asking any more. you gorge yourself out with the pastries that karina ordered, all while she looks a little constipated and unsure.
“you’re not going to eat?”
“i… i already ate before coming here.”
you nod, continuing to chew.
“it’s so early, who’s awake to even eat with?”
karina mutters, “i ate with jaewook.” you swallow the piece of bread in your mouth. the sweetness you tasted on your tongue is gone, just left with a bitter taste. you regret even asking her. you regret coming out of your hotel to eat pastries with her at 9 in the morning.
your head feels clouded. it’s not only gravity pulling you down. it’s a wrangling chain clutching your heart, pulling it into your stomach. the more you think about karina and that guy together, the more you feel like puking out all the sweet treats you stuffed your mouth with. you wanted to get rid of anything related to her.
“are you okay?” she asks.
no, you want to reply.
“i wanna go back,” you say instead.
lying was always better than telling her the truth.
“what? no, uhm,” karina blurts out, panicked, “you can’t go back yet, we still have a lot to sightsee.”
“please let me go back,” you beg, feeling a wave of nausea take over. between her incessant pleading to not leave and the vision of the two of them, jealousy fills your every vein.
“i planned a lot for today and oh my god, yn—” you can’t stand it anymore.
swiftly, you take out a wad of cash, placing it on the table and leaving the cafe without a second look behind. you stomp out quick, steady steps back to the hotel and you can feel karina hot on your heels. she calls out for your name, but to no avail do you turn back. you think of a plan. once you get back to your room, you’re going to block karina on everything. she’s never going to exist in your life ever again. if your job requires you to interact with her, it’s a bare minimum. you’ll break off contact with all of your mutual friends, ryujin, minjeong, maybe chaewon (but yujin and wonyoung would kill you).
it’s only when you reach a traffic light that karina catches up with you. once it flashes red, you groan. you can basically see karina’s triumphant smirk at the corner of your eye.
“are you done running now?”
you take a good look at karina. she’s panting, not more than you are, and her cheeks are flushed red.
the light flashes green.
“no.”
and the chase begins again.
karina tails you until you reach the hotel lobby. you open up your purse, searching for the keycard. karina is just a few steps behind.
you hear gasps of recognition behind you, the very reason you wanted to cover up your identity.
the moment the lift reaches the ground floor, you slide in, rapidly pressing the close button. karina, however, navigates through the crowd and manages to reach the lift in time.
you groan, your attempt at running away has failed. maybe you could still convince karina to leave you alone somehow. she wouldn’t try to break into your room, right?
“this is awkward now.”
“yeah, i wasn’t expecting you to follow me,” you sneer, “if a woman says she wants to leave, just let her leave for god’s sake.”
“okay, that’s my fault but you literally left out of nowhere, and you’ve been acting weird ever since last night,” karina argues back.
the lift beeps. you exit it with karina following you closely behind, still ongoing about your sudden change in behaviour.
“like last night, you left early and we didn’t even have time to talk or anything, and when i asked you about it you didn’t even explain anything?! just brushed me off and left! can you just tell me what’s going on?”
you two reach your room.
“i don’t need to explain myself to you. i said i was tired.”
“okay, but what about today? i planned the whole day for us to hang out and you just got up and left? what the hell! are you just an asshole who plays with people’s feelings? you told me you ‘can’t wait to see me’ and then just left like that,” karina raises her voice. a elderly couple passes you two and you feel self-conscious. you were just standing outside your room letting karina yell at you.
“come in then yell, you’re getting weird looks.”
karina inhales sharply, finally calming down.
you sit down on one of the lounge chairs, taking a deep breath.
“i really don’t have anything to explain to you. i’m sorry. and i’m not the one playing with people’s feelings here.”
“what? are you insinuating that i’m the one playing with your feelings?”
“uh, if the shoe fits?”
karina slaps your arm, “are you serious right now? can you just talk to me for once?! is this your first time being friends with someone?” friends? since when were you ever just friends with karina?
“no, it isn’t,” you swallow, “it’s my first time feeling this way for someone.”
“what?”
“do you know how many times i think about you in a day? it’s once, because i never stop. it hurts me every time i see you with someone else and i know i shouldn’t feel this way because while you reside in my mind, i have to hope that I cross yours once in a while to feel less pathetic of myself. do you know how that feels? to want to exist in someone’s thoughts. i feel happy just to know that you’re even acknowledging my presence. but you didn’t. you didn’t even care when i was there, so you shouldn’t care when i’m not,” the weight of unshed tears came pouring out. you let out a watery but hollow laugh. karina makes your heart ache, she makes you feel defeated and useless, she makes you feel angry and jealous.
“you make me feel that life is worth living for. that i went through all those torturous years just to meet you.”
karina, is life in itself.
“and i don’t think i’ll ever be able to find someone else that makes me feel this way. have you ever felt that way about someone?”
she stares at you, unblinking. she comes to terms with your words finally.
“i’m sorry,” she says.
“it’s fine,” you sniffle, wiping your tears.
“i’m sorry i hurt you.”
“of course you’ll hurt me. of course we’ll hurt each other, because this is the condition of living. and what’s not love, if not living for each other?”
“i didn’t know you felt that way about me.”
you sigh, “regret is a stupid thing. when you reject me, i would be better off knowing that we wouldn’t work out because you don’t like me, rather than me not telling you and wondering if we would ever work out. and you’re with that guy anyway.”
“who told you i would reject you? and who said i was with him?”
“oh.”
“i feel everything that you’ve just said, about you. and i’m upset that you were planning to just throw me away like that because of our inability to communicate.”
you laugh, more heartily this time, “i just didn’t want to be one of your conquests or whatever.”
“you’re more than one of my conquests. i wouldn’t dream of even letting you go. some people search their whole lives to find what i found in you. you can be assured that i won’t ever let you go.”
her sincere words draw red to your cheeks, warmth spreads from your neck to the tip of your ears. “you still like me,” you repeat, “even when i’m a jealous freak, have commitment issues and i care too much?”
“even with all those traits. if you didn’t care, you wouldn’t be the yn i like,” karina’s voice softens as does her touch. she takes your hand in hers, caressing the back of your hand with her palm.
“even if i don’t understand why you get angry and why you ignore me, i still like you. that’s what makes you, you. and love is all about understanding.”
you nod. all the crying has made you feel drowsy, and your fatigue is apparent, since karina smiles in amusement and says, “wash up and take a nap. i’ll be here.”
she’ll be here.
“thank you, jimin.”
karina, or rather, jimin, chuckles, “hurry up and shower. i hope you brought extra clothes since i’m going to change too.”
you quickly wash up and so does jimin. the two of you settle into the bed, your hands clutching at jimin for warmth and intimacy. you have her. the thought allows you to drift asleep, finally knowing that jimin’s heart beats the same for yours.
when the sun sets as you wake up from your nap, you can’t help but blurt out, “i adore you.”
jimin, pleasantly surprised, only giggles back.
“i adore you too, in ways words cannot express.”
maybe paris wasn’t the city of love. yours was milan.
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🎙️ author’s note: this is probably one of my favourite fics i’ve written. most of my own personal values have been put into this fic. regret is a stupid thing, we only live once and we have no idea if we’ll ever get to live again. find people that makes life worth living for. happy birthday yu jimin, aespa’s stupid cheese cat 🤍
650 notes · View notes
nouvxllev · 6 months
Note
"When I saw you
I fell in love, and
you smiled
because you knew
-William Shakespeare"
LOVE.LOVE.LOVE.
I wanted to make a request! I had a similar interaction like this, and when I had read this, I fell inloveeeeee with this qoute sm. Can you do a Wednesday x Reader? In which it's Wednesday who actually falls inlove 😭
amore, amore, amore.
Pairing: Author!Wednesday Addams x Gn!Reader
Summary: request!! ^^
Words: 6.0k (oh what the fuck)
Warnings: told in WEDNESDAYS POV AND ALTERNATE TIMELINES!, the gomezification of wednesday addams prevails, yes they meet at a museum, also kinda 7 husbands of evelyn hugo coded, slight plottwist at the end!
a/n: aaaa ofc ofc!! also i absolutely love the idea where wednesday fell first and harder
masterlist
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I believe they cursed me the moment their lips became something worth fighting for.
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"If they intend to halt my publishing, then so be it. I have no interest in entertaining that brain-dead company over countless of reasons as to why I shouldn't spare a few weeks for myself who believe I will fall under their will."
"Wednesday, they're the ones who publish your books, you just can't ignore their calls."
"Barclay, has your brain deteriorated to a degree in such a way that you are forgetting it's my presence that upholds that fucking company? Without me, they are nothing. Have you forgotten with how much power I withhold over them, or have your scales reached that hollow of a brain?"
"You can't ignore the leverage they have over you, sure you have the amount of money, if not more, to sue them, but they could literally tip you off and brand you as some selfish author."
"Please do comprehensively explain to me as to why I would be a selfish author?"
"Wednesday Friday fucking Addams, it's because you're half-way across the fucking world at some fucking museum in Italy while you have a manuscript due a fucking week ago!"
"I fail to see my fault."
"Addams, if you don't get your shit together, I swear���"
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I had solved countless of murders in my time of Nevermore. I had one thing to do when I finally left, and I was going to succeed.
If you had told me after I willingly left that horrid place you call an educating institution that I would experience the same fate as an author, I would've traced the outer skin of your face with a pocket knife and display it on your family's doorstep.
Barclay, amongst others, remained someone I held close. She could be infuriating, but no one would ever be much deserving of a terrible, terrible position than be under my control as my manager when I pursued writing.
But no one tells you how people could easily forget you in a matter of seconds if you don't make a name for yourself when you've put yourself out there, even if it's something far, far from your own.
I was only fortunate enough people enjoyed what I publish.
I couldn't care less if they didn't, that's why I found it hard to give two shits about what that damned company thought of my revised schedule. But I needed to make a living. To make something out of myself.
If I had continued my actions— in which I have full control over with—I could lose everything.
I could've build it up from scratch if it happened, but Lucifer knows how long would a simple idea for a plot that could get into the lack of attention span of the population could take.
I could lose the name I print on paper.
I could lose my name.
And then I realized I haven't.
There was something that I was destined to fall under. It was there with my eyes taped to a painting, not knowing I became one for another.
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I hung up. The mere thought of having a multistep plan to eventually murder my manager was between God and me. That woman had me teetering on the edge of becoming a one-hit serial killer overnight.
My head tilted over a large painting towering amidst the others down the line. My hands remained tucked deep within the pockets of a trench coat far too oversized for me.
I couldn't take much time of squinting, staring as if it had garnered my interest not after a dreaded phone call that I convinced myself truly took my energy and managed to inject anesthesia inside my veins.
A light sway became evident in my steps, as if I was sulking in my own woe of what I should and could've done to prevent myself fucking it up on a company that I could soon own if not me being under the age of what is required to own a firm without having to ring up my own godforsaken of a family.
I could almost take another step if I wasn't met with another person.
Countless of papers flew across the hard-tiled floor. It was over before I knew what had happened. I found myself standing there, eyes glued to the person I collided with, my eyebrows crossed and my mouth hung open like a fool.
"I'm—I'm so sorry, fuck." They grit under their breath, like they were berating themselves while they picked up the rest of what had fell.
I stood there, not knowing what to do or what not to do but stare at them and wait for them to pull themselves up.
And so that's what I did.
I wish I hadn't.
Because now it was the time I was unable to speak. Unable to use the words I've been writing my novels with, the words that I should've spoken in the seconds they had landed in front of me. For the first time, my words had failed me.
A question rang in my head, Why do I now feel as if I do not belong inside of my own body? Why does my life feel complete now that they were here?
When Y/n fixed herself, she looked at me and smiled. I knew I looked like an idiot staring at them, yet I never went out of my way to barely fix myself.
Why were they smiling?
"Why are you smiling?" I asked under my breath, like I was taken breathless. I hadn't mean to say it out loud, but my cold and otherwise damned heart seemed to be alive, like I was suffocating in my own rate. A fool in front of them I must've been.
They looked at their paper, then they looked at me.
They smiled yet again. Another question flicked across my head, what had happened to me to act as if I would go through hell and back for this person?
They smiled at me as if my presence gave them a reason to. And they loved me in every one of it.  
"Sorry—" they apologized, noticing how their thumb kept grazing the surface of their sketch, almost as if they were nervous. "You look prettier than... whatever I drew."
They stole one more look of me.
"Terrifyingly bewitching."
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It's horrifying knowing I couldn't explain what I felt that day. What I know is—I felt everything.
I've endured endless remarks on my appearance ranging from a number of ratings from those nonsensical people on the internet to every synonym people have thrown my way only to fail to evoke even a flicker of emotion.
Though it seems egotistical, I knew they held one intention: they wanted to impress me. They wanted me to know they were different amongst others who have approached me. They wanted to entice me, as if I could be owned.
Were it not for the arsenal and threats I carried, there would be much more.
Y/n was different. They never had any intentions of being with me, no desire to impress or claim me as theirs. They simply wanted me to know I was. That it was true. I just had never heard it from someone who could mutter two words that felt perfect.
And it's much more terrifying knowing I unexpectedly fell first, even if I deny myself.
I could tell you about the way y/n smiled, how it seemed to threaten the sun, warning it not to shine lest it risk embarrassment in contrast of hers. I could tell you the way their eyes followed their smile, how their life was encapsulated in their drawings, mirroring what they felt.
Yet, when it comes to explaining how I fell for them, words escape me. Even I, a tortured author, struggle to describe.
How must I convey the sensation of my heart pounding in my ears as if it was trying to break me? The ache in my stomach, churning every chance it got, every fiber of my being dreadfully surrendering to them.
But one is for certain: meeting them was like coming home.
My home.
But I couldn't bring myself to realize that—It was antagonizing for me. Humiliating and mortifying knowing one person could make me become a total fool, become someone I've never thought I'd be.
I've spent my whole life after hiding what I felt for them, lest I risk experiencing what I truly loathe: love.
I despised them ever since I met them, loathed them, hated them. But for what for? I ask myself countless of times, I have never gotten an answer.
When they left, I left. Thinking it would be fate that had accidentally brought two people together who held no meaning for eachothers life, that it was a mistake, and I could've been wrong with how I'm feeling.
And when I came back, they were there.
And when I approached them, it felt right.
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It was a week after the incident, but no matter how I tried, I still remember how their smile felt around me. Suffering, irritating, lovely. Like I wanted to relieve it, no matter how much time had passed.
Never once did I get their name in the span of meeting them, it was useless to know anyway.
Yet, I find myself returning to the museum every chance I get for God knows what, acting as if I had unfinished business staring at paintings while the staff rambled beside me. They were better off tattooing their explanation in my skull.
I had other places to attend to, other tasks I should've been doing rather than constantly visiting museum in the afternoon as if I have duties and low-paid labor for employment.
I should've been at my apartment days ago, exhausting myself on a half-assed manuscript I would have recurring thoughts of annihilating along with severing Bianca's hands through the phone.
What terrified me is why I was back.
Standing in front of them. My hands tucked deep inside the pockets of another trench coat, looking down on them sitting on one of the blocks of granite surrounding a oddly placed tree in the middle of the hall, drawing whatever there is to draw.
"Hello." I greeted them. They almost looked startled, surprised that I was even talking to them, like I was some vengeful ghost who returned to seek revenge. Though they weren't far off.
They looked up, immediately flipping over their clipboard as they locked eyes with me.
"Oh—" They cleared their throat, "Hi. Hey, hello." They smiled, albeit awkward. But that feeling of dread, or whatever, came back. Stronger than ever, I feared. I almost had half the mind of punching them in the gut and questioning them why they had this effect on me.
"Didn't know you come here often." A chuckle followed their question, or maybe it was a statement, placing their elbows on their lap while they gazed right at me.
I scoffed, murmuring against gritted teeth why did I even approach them in the first place. "And I didn't know you draw me that often."
I look down on the piece of paper, their deliberate and aggressive brush strokes having an effect on the paper, leaving marks upon marks. It was clear that I've been their subject for days on end. Even if I were to absent, I'd still be able to be the pinnacle of their sketches.
It was funny back then, humorous in my mind on how quick they snatched the piece of paper and tried to explain with little to no comprehension that went across their mind.
"Oh, God, no, no! I just—Okay, well, maybe I've been drawing you ever since I saw you, it's creepy now that I mention it... but it's just—it's dumb of me to not draw you, you know?" They were flustered, their mouth opening and closing only for me to receive words that were out of the dictionary.
They sighed, my lips twitched.
"I'd like to ask," My voice trailed off, grimacing even at the thought of having to initiate a conversation with more or less than five words, "What's... your name?"
"Y/N," They nodded, "L/N. Y/N/L/N." They reached out for a handshake only to immediately retract after a brief awkward seconds of staring. Their name sounded familiar.
"Why are you here?"
"Do I need to reason to?"
"I suppose so, no. But I am curious." Even I don't know why I'm still back here.
Y/n sighed, like I was the one getting on their nerves while it was me who battling against whatever fucked-up demon spawned in my stomach that caused me to feel, things.
"Nothing."
I frowned. "You came here because of.... Nothing?"
"Mhm."
"You are drawing strangers you know nothing about because of nothing?"
"Thought I made myself clear on that first word."
"You've made yourself look foolish than any average person."
"Well, you never told me your name. I think that's foolish enough over my case."
It was my turn to sigh.
"Addams." I reluctantly said to them, "Wednesday, Addams."
Then Y/n looked up at me as if I was some sort of otherworldly deity going back down to earth to finish whatever I started. "Wednesday Addams. I think I've heard that name before."
"No. No, you haven't."
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If it wasn't horribly obvious, the sole purpose of my visit to Italy was to neglect everything I left behind in New York—especially deadlines— and hoped my eyes would finally work some sense that would let me start anew.
It was shameful of me, passion that dwindled into something less. If I had the chance, I would've tortured myself for even considering abandoning all of my life's work.
Though, I had my reasons. Even if I had threatened my target population and my audience, it still wouldn't be enough.
In short, I had lost motivation to pursue another book.
I felt as if there was something missing, that I couldn't even dare to even blow the collecting dust in the rims of my typewriter.
I begged for my brain to work, to even produce the slightest idea or word that could have some meaning to it. I was ready to write anything that came to mind, even if it was mediocre.
But, instead, my heart responded.
When I met Y/n, I started writing, and we started talking.
Words flowed through, and my time was wasted on Y/n.
My time was wasted, and they were wasted with their significant other.
I always thought I would suffer the thought of having to live an eternal life with none other than myself, that it was inevitable I was going to perish alone in my own woe.
It remained the same. Now, it's just having to live with the fact that my only greatest love had another.
I felt as if I ate a forbidden fruit once I heard they had someone that loved them as much as I denied myself of the same kind, like I plagued myself with hundreds of years of worry and attachment to someone who had eyes on another, a special muse they had.
Only that I would crumble immediately, tempted to take the fruit in my hands, forever stain my lips of something immoral so that I could forever crawl and weep over them.
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In my time in Italy, I thought i'd be avoiding acquaintances that would be much more of a burden to me rather than someone useful. Yet there I was, watching Y/n saunter into my life like the revelation they were.
It's safe to say that Y/n turned out to be anything but a burden. They became someone I looked forward to seeing every day, though I hadn't realized they were motivation until then.
"Wends!"
Their awfully cheerful voice pierced through the air of the restaurant, almost granting the attention from other people as if they shared the same horrendous and dreadful nickname as me.
As much as I fantasized about walking out of the restaurant with y/n's half-broken jaw, I couldn't deny whatever was swirling in my head.
Ever since they knew of that wretched nickname unfortunately given to me by none other by that infectious and the ever infuriating ball of sunshine, Enid Sinclair, they've been calling me it as if I don't have a birth name.
It was a month ever since I've known Y/n, and it was a month of them being a constant presence in my life. They shared breakfast with me, lunches, and sometimes dinners that I somehow always and reluctantly accepted.
They became my routine, and it was a fact I'd sooner die with than confess to anyone.
Y/n slowly approached my table that was filled to the brim with countless of books and my oddly placed typewriter, putting their own stuff down on the seat beside them. "You're here early. You ordered something yet?"
It was 12PM. We agreed on 1, and I came at 10.
I scoffed, keeping my eyes on the typewriter. "You, of all people, should know by now that I would much rather sooner paint myself neon than touch anything on this menu."
I hear y/n setting their elbows on the table, resting their face between their hands. "Aw, c'mon Wends, it wouldn't kill you.
"Cyanide won't, but this will." I stopped writing to take one look at them, obviously and oddly, my gaze never and will never work on them. "Take my advice if you're eager to leave this restaurant with a mouth able to eat and speak."
"Ever the happiest person, Wends." They chuckled, sliding a somehow too bright and colorful menu towards them, "I'll order for you."
I stopped writing all together, "Y/n."
"Wednesday." They raised an eyebrow, a smile tugging at her lips. It was over before I was even playing the game. Resistance over their lips felt futile anyway.
"Fine." I sighed, shutting my eyes closed just so that for once I can't have my stomach doing fucking acrobatics at the sight of them. "I will... allow it."
The ever-growing smile that crept up to their face was priceless, I couldn't bring myself to pry my eyes away. Murmuring something along the lines that I was too easy to lure in.
Once a waiter passed our table, Y/n ordered something along the lines of whatever the fuck 'Due Cream Soda Alla Vaniglia e Lampone con Glitter Commestibili' was. I was certain I was going to leave the restaurant with a non-working heart and a stomach turning inside and out.
It took no longer than a minute for Y/n to get a hold one of the numerous books piled infront of me. "Are you studying for something?" They asked, opening it only to close it once they noticed how outdated some of the languages are.
I let a small chuckle pass my lips. "What drives you to such a hypothesis."
They gestured to the books and my typewriter, "By how you're literally surrounded by books and you're on a fucking typewriter instead of a laptop." They pointed out, murmuring another, "Also, who the hell says hypothesis."
"People with functioning frontal lobes." I quipped, letting my fingers write on instinct across the typewriter keys as I listened to Y/n's ramblings. "I'm... writing."
"You're an author?"
"No."
"Then why—"
"Are you a painter? An artist?"
"Well... I—no?"
"Then we both don't know what we're doing."
Y/n fell silent moments after, I couldn't help but miss the sound of their voice. Admitting the mere thought aloud seemed absurd, let alone thinking it in the first place. I would've bashed my head on top of my typewriter if not for my resistance.
"How long will you be staying in Italy?" they eventually asked.
"Two more weeks," I replied. "My flight is already scheduled, I'll be leaving then on."
"Oh."
I wasn't expecting an answer anything other than a hint of happiness that I was eventually leaving their life.
"You are?" They repeated, as if they couldn't believe such a statement even escaped my lips, clear disappointment flickering across their face. "That's not... long."
"I am certainly not saying here indefinitely now that I have something to continue when I've arrived at my destination." I cleared out, doing my very best to escape the impending guilt washing over me.
"I'll miss you, Wednesday."
Their words were sincere. Lovely. It had stopped me from writing all together.
Guilt wasn't a feeling I was familiar with at the time. I rarely come across such a feeble emotion. Now it felt like I've committed something immoral. There were times that I lie for my own convenience, and nothing more than my own reason.
Now it felt like I should've lied for them.
I will forever miss you.
I wrote. I never showed them.
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One week had passed and I rarely ever got to see Y/n after. Our encounters became increasingly scarce, and their voice plagued me from days on end.
I clung to the faithless hope I had that they would text me, to reach out, to even show me they're alive and well.
I returned to the museum for every day they were absent in my life, searching for any sign of their presence, but each day ended in disappointment.
Of course, fate is indifferent to my yearning, refusing to grant someone I so desperately sought.
Regret gnawed at me as the days turned into a week, and the week turned into the day before my flight.
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"Addams. I've heard from others that you've been writing."
"Who others?"
"I'll spare a name to spare New York a corpse found in their sewage pipes by the time you've, hopefully I assume, returned and not jump off the plane."
"Even if I went off the grid, your nagging would've been in spirit."
"Don't flatter me."
"Don't kill yourself without showing me a video tape in full resolution for me to get through rough weeks. Or maybe take a shotgun and shoot yourself in your garage and let me have the keys to your house."
"Addams."
I sigh. "Yes, the rumors—though I would want that vampires head on a stake—are true. I've been writing."
"What happened to you there? You met someone?"
"How'd you know—No. No, I—I haven't. What makes you come to such a foolish conclusion?"
"Oh my God, someone actually managed Wednesday—I'd rather kill myself before loving anyone—Addams to fall terribly in love with them. Who's the unfortunate soul?"
"I would not be naming them because they do not exist."
"You just stuttered, Wednesday. The only thing making you stumble your words is when you're overdosing on whatever poison you're having for breakfast."
"They're no one."
"How are you such a bad liar when you have countless of bodies hidden across the globe?"
I sigh again, this time, it was out of annoyance. "I'll be hanging up. Goodbye, Barclay. If ever you are considering to kill yourself, call me. I'll be at my most happiest to watch."
"Wait, no, Wednesday! I need progress on your—"
I hung up. It was pointless to answer her calls when I was a mere few step away from boarding a plane. She always had a way of getting under my skin, even from across the damn globe.
But there was one name that would always surface in my thoughts: Y/n.
The mere thought of their name will forever remind me of how my heart wasn't programmed to love.
I reached for my phone, fingers tracing over the cold screen. My mind was tired, blank. The only thing I could ever do is stare at their contact and wish I could've done something better.
I typed out a hesitant message, my thumb hovering over the send button as if it was something that could end my world. Only two thoughts ran to my mind: Would they reply, or would my message be nothing to them?
I almost hit send before I heard footsteps approaching me.
"Y/n?"
I whispered their name, the love I carried for them being surrendered like I'd crawl for them once I reached purgatory.
"What are you doing here?" My eyebrows furrowed. How could they leave me, only to return as I was about to depart? "Why are you here, you disappeared, avoided me, why—"
"He proposed to me."
Oh.
I always thought a near-death experience with a loved one would be the deepest I could feel.
I realized I was wrong.
Now my eyes ached to the sting. Like I was weeping for someone that perished in my heart, I grieve for a living soul that was me. It was pathetic.
I expected them to be overjoyed, over the moon as they would express themselves from time to time.
But when I met their eyes, all I saw were tears streaming down their face.
Oh, how I wished to wipe their worries away.
"Then why are you crying?"
"I don't know if I love him."
"Nonsense... You told me you loved him—"
"Well, maybe I haven't been saying anything true to you!"
"Look, I don't know what I'm doing—I don't know what the hell are we doing. I'm living in some apartment with some guy I don't even know I even love, I'm currently standing here like an idiot to a girl who's just about to leave my life, and you're—"
"You're everything."
It was that moment I realized I was lost in a haze of admiration and love for Y/n.
That I was far too deep in their life that they became mine. I never knew I needed them as much when I told them to leave with me and break up with their significant other.
I never knew I needed their lips onto mine until the moment I pulled them close to me.
Now I ache of them.
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"Do you regret it, mother? Being such a fool for someone, you became what you hated most. But you endured it all for them."
Wednesday Addams, seating across the bed from her daughter, Blair Addams. She looked just like you, she'd always wonder.
Wednesday sighed, her hand reaching out to gently touch Blair's. "Do you know the phrase, 'Come ti vidi M’innamorai, E tu sorridi Perchè lo sai?'" she asked softly.
"You know I've never indulged myself in whatever you're reading." She shook her head with a smile. She looked even more like you.
She let her fingers trace patterns on her hand, her gaze wandering else where. "Well, it translates to 'When I first met you I fell in love, and you smiled because you knew," she explained.
"And do you believe in that, mother?"
Wednesday could almost smile. Her daughter was always the curious one, yet she always managed to be privy of her life from them. "I always believed Y/N knew the moment we first laid eyes on each other, I fell in love with them."
"So, yes, my raven." She nodded, "I do."
"I never knew Y/n would make me their title, their theme, their muse," Wednesday pondered, "I always wondered why i fell for them."
"Falling is an accident, gullible, like with people who fail to do basic things. But I am one of those people if not more if I fell for their on accident and continued to do so."
She sat beside Blair, her legs crossed beside her. "I've never told you at the time, but Y/n was a painter. And they wanted nothing more but than to forget about their past. They have never told me as to why, but I believe them.""
"I worried that my love was violence. It was pain, it was suffering. But y/n took care of themselves, they took care of me. There is no one in the world who had loved me more than them, I fear that it would break them, that I am deemed no longer someone who is a part of their story."
"Yet here we are."
Wednesday couldn't see the smile creeping from her daughters lips. But she knew it was there, just like how you looked like before. She will always and forever take pride in it.
She always thought her greatest love could be something of a passion, a talent, a hobby perhaps.
But no one told her it could be a person.
Blair stretched and turned on a light beside her bed, opening a drawer and taking out two of Wednesday's books. "Must they be the reason your books has been off to your prior ones, mother? You've written all your life of gore and mystery. Now it's romance."
"Well, I—"
"Oh, I'm definitely the reason why your mother has been subtly—not-so-subtly, switching to the romance genre."
You peered through the door, your body wrapped up in a cozy boritto style and everything with a train draping it's way to your back like some met-gala dress.
"Oh, mon chéri," Wednesday's face lit up at the sight of you, immediately standing up and pulled you close, her arms enveloping you in a warm embrace.
Her lips met yours in soft kisses, leaving the taste of faint vanilla chapstick lingering on your lips. "Why are you up so late?"
"Well," You grinned against her lips, "I felt our bed getting cold and to my surprise my wife isn't nowhere near me. You know how I can't sleep without you." She pulled away, you whined at the lost of contact, but you couldn't smile more brightly as she led you towards your daughter. "G'evening, Blair."
"Evening, Y/n." She greeted you before you kissed her on the forehead.
You leaned against Wednesday's shoulder, whispering softly, "You're telling her our story again?"
Wednesday would've thought her small chuckle went unnoticed, but you definitely heard it. The stupid smile on your face told everything.
Her hand found yours, giving it a gentle squeeze. "She loves it."
"You love it, mother. Probably more than me." Blair retorted back, evident that she was holding back a laugh.
"I do not! When did I ever—"
"Oh, honey, you know love turns your mother into a girl version of your abuelo.
"Do not ever refer to me as my love drunk father or I will subject you to sleeping on the couch." Wednesday rolled her eyes, pinching the back of your palm. "And please do not shame my work of referring to it as such. I've worked hard day and night yet you proceed call it by such an exasperate—"
You turned your head and pressed a kiss on her cheek, the same spot where her freckles resided, causing her to pause mid-sentence. After atleast ten years of being with her, it always made you so giddy.
"Not even in marriage am I spared by your passive aggressive comments," you teased, your lips curling into a smile as you leaned in closer to her.
You hear your daughter sigh after a brief second, "Addams."
Wednesday almost looked shocked, "My Raven, do not call us by our last—"
"Please exit my room. I'll be going to sleep."
And then, the both of them were shoved off before they could even hug their daughter and kiss her goodnight like they always did.
"I... We were rejected, Y/n." Wednesday exclaimed, like she just got struck with the most heartbreaking news. "She used to love our stories together when she was an infant."
You'd think Wednesday was the non-chalant mom who's strict on her child. But, to your surprise, she was the opposite.
She loved Blair just as much she loved you. Hell, you even considered just maybe, maybe not, disowning your daughter because she gets Wednesday's attention more than you do.
You shrugged, taking her hand and leading her to your upstairs bedroom. "It gets stale once in a whileeeOW!" You winced as Wednesday pinched the back of your palm, again. It was starting to become her love language at this point.
"I'm just kidding!" You reassured her, intertwining your fingers with hers as you walked up the stairs together, pulling the door open for your wife. "She's just in her rebellious teen phase, let it go."
Wednesday rolled her eyes, "Too cliche."
"You used to have one too," you scoffed, settling onto your side of the bed and watching as she laid down on hers.
It was a routine you found yourself often doing, taking in the sight of your beloved as if your life with Wednesday was all a dream. You pinch yourself like almost thrice a day just to really make sure.
"Since when?" Wednesday asked, raising an eyebrow in amusement, quietly shuffling towards you.
You sat up for a moment to undo her braids. You always liked playing with her hair, and that one time she asked of you to undo hers, it became a routine. "Since the beginning of time. And somehow, you never grew out of it."
"You didn't even meet me in my teenage years. I am far from rebellious."
"Yes, baby, but not too far from a death penalty." You chuckled, reaching out to gentle stroke her hair, leaning in to press a soft kiss against her forehead.
"Oh, you flatter me," she replied, a smirk across her lips, but the room was too dim to even notice it.
By now, if you were any ordinary person, Wednesday would've made you disappear entirely. But, the thing is, Wednesday always seemed to look at you as if her life never really started until she found you.
Silence managed to take over the atmosphere, you laid back on the comfortable mattress, feeling Wednesday's head nestled on your arms that were tucked under her hair.
You could almost fall asleep in pure bliss knowing that you've met and loved the girl of your dreams if not for her calling out for you.
"Amore." She whispered.
"Amore?" She whispered again, her voice softer than ever before.
You blinked, momentarily. You swore you just heard an angel. "Yes, amore?"
"Can I... Can you—"
You smiled, almost too knowingly. You knew Wednesday, for someone who's such a romantic soul, she's not too expressive on simple terms like these. "Do you want to be the little spoon?"
She grimaced, you could even hear her grunts of disapproval. "I would highly refrain from calling it that before I jump out of bed and skin you from limb to limb. But... yes, I would like to."
A soft chuckle escaped your lips at her response, suppressing a grin to avoid from literally being murdered as you wrapped your arms around her and pulled her close.
Ten years before, if someone had told you that you're going to be doing this to girl you've met at a museum while trying to escape your past, let alone be happily married to her, you would've told them "How the fuck do you know that and please stay away, I have... a boyfriend. I guess."
But now, it seemed so believable. Wednesday was always so relaxed in your arms, your warmth and hers bringing a sort of comfort for the both of you.
You nuzzled your head against the back of her neck, gently moving strands of her hair aside as you pressed soft kisses against her skin, hoping to kick away her tension from the day.
"Stop pouting, Wends," you murmured softly into her skin as you closed your eyes in pure relief.
You hear her scoff, "I am not doing such a humiliating act."
"Oh but you so are." Your grin widening as you pressed another gentle kiss against her nape, "I can hear it from here."
Wednesday let out a sigh, of annoyance? Maybe. But was it tinged with pure adoration and love? Much so. "You don't hear pouts, Y/n."
"When it comes to you, I do and I can."
Silence washed over. This time, you're worried you've teased her that much, she actually got annoyed with you.
"You're awfully quiet. By this time, you're probably threatening to kill me."
"I'm... Sorry." Wednesday whispered, it has an undying tone of tenderness that you don't often see it being expressed through words from her. Slowly, she shifted her body to face yours.
One thing is for certain: She was still so terrifyingly bewitching if not more. She looked pretty in every way possible, it's hard to even believe, it left you in awe.
You feel her gaze darting on your eyes and then drifting down to your lips, hesitating even. It was ridiculous, in the most adorable way possible there is for an Addams like her.
"May I kiss you?"
"You know you're always welcome. It's pointless to ask."
She was the first to reach out, her hand finding it's way to the curve of your cheek, her touch gentle than ever as she traced the line of your jaw as if she was memorizing every feature of yours.
You cupped her face in reciprocation, leaning in closer to where your lips were just hovering inches away from hers. Then, you closed the space between the both of you.
You pulled away, your eyes meeting hers with a soft smile. It was impossible to think that this woman held your heart in her hands like it was nothing.
"Have I ever told you that you're pretty?" you whispered, letting your hands fall to her waist and pulled her close.
"Ever since you've met me."
“You know, I’m surprised you even remember our first meeting.”
“Oh, how could I ever forget my lover?”
You laughed, a symphony that always gets Wednesday to have a slight tug in her lips. “Stop being so romantic. You are a grown woman with a daughter.”
You continued to stare into her eyes as you drape the rest of the blanket for the both for you. "It's hard to think you're the first one to fall in love and not me."
"It's hard to think of anything when you're here with me, te amo." Wednesday replied, her gaze softening almost immediately.
You sighed. "You know I love you, right?"
Wednesday blinked. "I always will."
You smiled.
And Wednesday smiled back.
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a/n: this was longer than i thought. i yap too much in stories i fear
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reynoldsellender · 15 days
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@jonsbailey
Wicked and Jurassic World, you are really blessing the world with entertainment i see, my daughter Betty is obsessed with theater so we are counting the days until we can see Wicked, not much on Jurassic World just because i am terrified of dinosaurs, seriously you would think they still roam the streets with how i act whenever i see one in a movie, actually don't is already bad my kids laugh at me.
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room-surprise · 7 months
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Analysis of Laios and how he hugs/interacts with people, pre and post-manga.
Reading body language in real life is basically pseudo-science most of the time, however, these aren't candid photographs of real people I'm analyzing, they are drawings purposefully made by Ryoko Kui to tell us something about Laios and his relationships with other characters.
These illustrations are designed on purpose to communicate information. So what do I think they say?
Here's the illustration of how things are at the start of the manga:
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NAMARI AND CHILCHUCK
They're both rough towards Laios, expressing displeasure with him, using violent physical touch to get his attention or punish him for something.
TOSHIRO
His reaction to Laios is totally passive. He isn't turned towards Laios, but he isn't turning away either. He's staring up into space with a look of discomfort, suggesting he wishes Laios would leave him alone... But that he is too polite to openly reject him.
We know this is partially a cultural issue: because Toshiro is Japanese, he considers it catastrophically rude to tell someone "no" in a blunt way. He is trying to communicate his discomfort and disinterest to Laios, but Laios isn't understanding Toshiro's signals.
Meanwhile, Laios is turning his whole body towards Toshiro, his eyes are wide open, he's smiling. He's very eager to interact, in a way that he isn't with any other character on this page except Falin.
MARCILLE
They are having a neutral interaction. Neither of them seems excited or interested in each other, but they are talking seriously. Marcille is gesturing at Laios in a way that seems scolding, they are standing at a polite distance, and Laios is standing at his full height, perhaps even leaning/straining away from Marcille slightly. There is a physical object (Marcille's staff) acting as a barrier, and it's physically pushing Laios away from her.
But it is worth noting that he has his hand on the staff, suggesting that he's not letting himself be pushed away any further, that he's having a reciprocal interaction with Marcille, not a passive one where he just stands there and gets lectured. Laios is participating and engaged.
FALIN AND SENSHI
The only people having unambiguously positive interactions with Laios on this page, which makes sense since they are the two people who are the most friendly towards him at the start of the manga.
Laios and Falin are touching hands, smiling and their bodies are turned towards each other, showing enthusiasm and a mutual interest. This is less intense than the hug in the post-manga illustrations, which maybe suggests that there's something distant and unresolved between them here, like resentment and guilt.
Laios and Senshi are closer to each other than Laios and Marcille. Laios is sitting or crouched down to get closer to Senshi's height, and they are both smiling and turned towards each other. Senshi may even be laughing!
Here's the "post-manga" image...
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What a huge difference!
All of these interactions are basically positive, so I'll just go left to right, top to bottom. Also for some of these, we can't see Laios' friends full reactions, so I'll focus on what we can see, and how Laios is behaving.
SENSHI
They share a gentle hug. They both have their arms wrapped around each other, so the desire to touch is mutual. Laios bends to reach Senshi, and has a calm, content smile on his face while they hug. Laios rests his head on top of Senshi's head, showing trust and intimacy and a desire to be physically even closer to Senshi than just hugging. Senshi isn't pulling away, so I think that's a good indicator that he doesn't mind it, and possibly even likes it!
Which is a big change from how he felt violated by Laios touching his chest earlier in the manga, even though Laios was trying to heal him... I think Senshi isn't someone that easily lets others touch him, so this is a big improvement.
CHILCHUCK
The size difference makes this hug awkward, but that's not the only reason! Laios has both hands on Chilchuck and he is bending down in order to reach him, suggesting that he wants to embrace his friend, however Chilchuck is not straining to reach Laios, and he is only using one hand to touch him, suggesting that Chilchuck doesn't want to embrace too closely. Chilchuck is willing to allow a hug, and he is willing to touch Laios back, but he doesn't want it as much as Laios does.
I think Laios is aware of this, because he isn't trying to push the hug to a higher level of intensity. He's holding back to the level he thinks Chilchuck is comfortable with.
MARCILLE
They share a happy, but not overly intimate hug. Their chests and bodies are pressed together, but they are turning their heads away from each other.
Laios' hands are resting side by side on Marcille's back, and it seems like she is hugging him back in a similarly loose way. His arms are not overlapping, and they aren't squeezing or grabbing each other, just holding on lightly while pressing their chests together.
TOSHIRO
What a fascinating set of drawings!
I'm going to assume that the color drawing is what happens first, and the black and white line drawing is what happens afterwards, solely because if the black and white drawing is meant to just be Laios' fantasy of hugging Toshiro, then surely he would imagine Toshiro hugging him back enthusiastically, and not a more passive reaction like Kui drew.
Kui wrote a note here to remind readers that hugging is not considered normal in "the East", where Toshiro is from, to give context to why the character seems so uncomfortable.
Laios is approaching Toshiro at high speed, arms open and reaching for Toshiro, eyes wide, with a happy expression. He clearly wants to wrap Toshiro up in a big, enthusiastic hug.
Toshiro is sweating with discomfort, and he has a hand pressed against Laios' chest, attempting to stop him… However, the arm is not extended and his elbow is bent at an acute angle, and it looks as if no force is being applied. Toshiro perhaps feels a need to offer a token protest, but he isn't really trying to stop Laios.
In the black and white hug drawing, Laios has both arms wrapped tight around Toshiro, much tighter than Senshi, Chilchuck or Marcille, and he's pressing their bodies together and resting his head on Toshiro's shoulder. He's turning his face towards Toshiro's neck, and smiling serenely.
Toshiro's body is stiff, he's sweating, and his arm is held at a rigid 90 degree angle… But he isn't using it to push Laios away, just holding it uselessly at his side. Perhaps he is half-way towards returning the hug, thinking about lifting his arm a little higher and resting his hand on Laios' back, but he isn't sure if he wants to do that yet.
Toshiro is bending his body towards Laios, and allowing himself to be pressed against the other man. He's staring out into space with a neutral expression that suggests either discomfort or surprise. I think we're meant to understand that he has given up fighting against the foreign, offensive hug, realizing that it isn't offensive for Laios, and therefore it might be okay to allow it...and it might actually be more offensive if he rejected the hug.
FALIN
Falin has thrown herself at Laios with considerable force, and Laios has his arms overlapping across Falin's back. They are both squeezing each other tightly with their arms, and even Laios' hands are gripping Falin tightly. There is an overjoyed look on Laios' face, and I think this embrace shows how Laios has healed through the course of the story.
KABRU
Since Kabru is one of Laios' newest friends, it makes sense that the hug would be the least intimate.
The two of them have a complicated relationship in the manga, but the complete world bible shows that Laios has finally accepted that Kabru is genuinely his friend and not just trying to use or manipulate him. He's made an effort in the post-canon to reach out and try to be Kabru's friend in return, and Kabru has forgiven Laios for not listening to him in the past.
Kabru is turning his body away from Laios, which puts his shoulder towards Laios' shoulder at a perpendicular angle, forcing distance between them. Laios is fully facing Kabru, and has one arm behind his back, a hand resting on Kabru's shoulder, and another hand resting on his chest. The hand on the chest is attached to an arm that is bent at an obtuse angle, holding Kabru at a distance, with no indication that he is trying to pull Kabru in. Both hands are relaxed, like in the Marcille hug, indicating that Laios' grasp is loose.
This arm position is pretty unusual for an embrace. It allows Laios to keep Kabru at a distance where he can see him, and control where he moves, and how close he's able to get to Laios… and Kabru isn't returning the hug in any way, instead allowing himself to be touched and held in place.
Their bodies aren't pressed together, and Kabru's arm is down at his side, neither encouraging Laios nor pushing him away.
Laios has a big smile on his face, and he looks enthusiastic. Kabru on the other hand has a calm smile. In my opinion his expression is less enthusiastic than Marcille's.
I think Laios can't tell how Kabru feels about the hug, and so he's holding himself back. He's not blinded by emotion like he is with Toshiro, so he's not flinging himself at Kabru… And because Kabru is such a new friend, Laios is also probably hesitant to get too close to him.
There may also be some lingering trust issues, if Laios still isn't completely certain if Kabru genuinely likes him or not. Laios has often had trouble telling if people really like him, or if they are just being polite (Toshiro), or using him (former party members), so it makes sense that it would take awhile for him and Kabru to become truly comfortable with each other..
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unangelic-thoughts · 7 months
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Listennnnn!! Rafe + gloryhole???
(not proof read and mature content ahead!!!)
You tag along with a friend to a sex party for the very first time. You’re simultaneously excited and nervous, not knowing what to expect. There’s all kinds of naked bodies all around you, you don’t know where to look first.
As your friend leaves to join an orgy, you walk around trying to decide how to ease yourself in and that’s when you see it. A wall with a row of holes next to each other. The only parts of the people you can see are from the waist down. Dicks, vaginas, asses. All of it on display, waiting patiently to be fucked or already being fucked by anyone that passes by. Most of them are already occupied, but you spot a vacant one.
It seems less intimidating to just have a complete stranger fuck you, without even having to interact with each other. Before you can chicken out, you stride confidently behind the wall, taking your robe off so that you are completely nude.
People next to you are too busy being fucked to even notice you, and that helps relieve some of the nerves.
You slip the bottom half of your body through the opening, as you lay on your back. The last thing you expect is the soft, careful touch of someone’s hand up your leg. In all honesty, you were just expecting someone to just shove their dick in, impatiently chasing their own release, but this is…different. Intimate.
Unbeknownst to you, your brother’s best friend, Rafe, is the stranger on the other side of the wall. He hadn’t even entered the room for more than a minute, but his eyes immediately noticed the familiar tattoo on your ankle. A portrait of your childhood cat, with her name underneath. There was no mistaking it.
He knew it was wrong, he should’ve turned the other way. But it was like a magnet was pulling his body towards you. He sees some guy step forward, about to get his dick wet in your gorgeous pussy but Rafe is having none of that. He stalks over to him, shoving him away from you before he can even touch you.
The guy is about to say something, but is met with Rafe’s murderous stare and decides it’s not worth the hassle.
While this is happening, you begin to worry that something is wrong. You obviously can’t see anything but no one has touched you yet. Doubts creep your mind until a hand is on your skin, and the worries wash away in an instant.
It’s so gentle, slowly heading up…up…up towards your core. The hand massages your inner thigh, spreading your leg open wider. You’re filled with anticipation about what’s going to happen next.
A finger slides through your folds, the person takes their time, as if admiring your cunt. They caress your clit, the touch is light but the contact makes you flinch. You can feel yourself getting wetter and wetter.
He slides a finger through your walls and you bite the back of your hand to contain a whimper. Even with the wall between you, there’s something that feels so personal about this. It’s nothing like what you expected.
They slide another finger in and you grind your hips to feel them as deep inside of you as possible. A third finger follows and they all curl upwards to your g-spot, and then you see stars.
You don’t realise you’ve moaned out loud, but you stop caring the moment their thumb rubs circles on your clit as they drive their digits in and out of you. It continues in a steady rhythm, pushing you over the edge and you’re cumming hard already, it takes you by complete surprise.
It’s kind of sweet that they prioritised the pleasure of a stranger over their own, you really admire that, you think to yourself.
Then their touch is gone, and you miss it instantly. You’re still so turned on, but you don’t just want anyone, you want *them*.
You reach your leg out, fearing that they’ve left but your foot brushes against the outside of their thigh. You sigh a breath of relief and smile to yourself.
Rafe is completely bewildered. Your pussy is better than coke, and he wants to touch you so badly, but he knows he’s already taken it too far.
He’s contemplating leaving when your foot brushes against his leg and he stares at it in surprise. You want this. You want more.
He bites back a smile, and reminds himself that it’s not him you want. You don’t even know who is on the other side of the wall.
But he doesn’t care. He’s got you now, and he’s not willing to give you up just yet. He shrugs off his robe and palms his dick, prepping it for you.
He places a peck on your knee and then he’s sliding inside your wet pussy.
You reach out as if to touch his abdomen, but your hands collide with the cardboard wall. You bite down on your lip hard, as he drives his cock deeper and deeper until he reaches your cervix. It doesn’t feel enough, you want him closer, but this will have to do. That’s the entire purpose of a glory hole anyway. Anonymity.
His hands grip your hips to keep you steady as his thrusts become more powerful and sharp.
You search for something to hold onto but find nothing. You slip your hands over his on instinct, squeezing down firmly as your second orgasm builds in your body.
Your legs wrap around his ass to drive him closer, and as you do so, your clit rubs against his trimmed hair. Your climax hits you so aggressively that you’re trembling underneath him. Your thoughts become jumbled, you’re in a state of bliss. His orgasm follows shortly after as his seed fills up the condom. And then he pulls out, leaving you completely empty.
As you come back to your senses, you feel something hard and cold at the palm of your hand. You open it to reveal a signet ring. It looks vaguely familiar. It must’ve slipped off the stranger’s finger when you gripped his hand.
You study it closer, reading the initials, ‘R.C.’
Your heart drops to your stomach. It can’t be, can it?
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lvnleah · 2 months
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000 | The Beginning.
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The very first part to my series, The Williamson’s, this chapter takes places over four years at four different times!
find the series masterlist here!
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January 4th 2019 - 21 years old.
The past few days between you and your best friend, Leah, had been weird. It started on New Year’s Eve when you and her were both drunk.
All night long you’d been exchanging glances across the room and before you knew it you were kissing in the middle of the dance floor. The next morning you woke up in her bed, it wasn’t unusual for that to happen but this time it was different.
You’d never taken notice of your feelings for Leah, you’d known her since you were sixteen so there was absolutely no way on this planet that you were in love with your best friend.
Or at least that’s what you tried to convince yourself.
Leah was openly gay with the people around her and always had been. When you were eighteen you confided in her about your sexuality, you were confused and she was there for you. It wasn’t until a year ago that you finally came out as bisexual and Leah was one of the first people you told.
New Year’s Eve was a blur in your mind. You remember getting drunk, dancing with Leah and then kissing her as the clock struck midnight.
You and Leah had crossed a line, and now you were both tiptoeing around it. The tension hung in the air like a thick fog, making every interaction awkward.
You were slouched on your sofa, scrolling through social media when the doorbell rang. Your heart skipped a beat as you walked over to the door and opened it. Leah stood there, her cheeks flushed from the cold. She was bundled up in a coat and a beanie, her eyes wide and nervous.
"Hey," she said, her voice barely audible. "Can I come in?"
You stepped aside, allowing her to enter. She kicked off her boots and hung up her coat, glancing around the room as she avoided eye contact. The silence stretched between you, heavy and uncomfortable.
Finally, she blurted out, "Look, about New Year's Eve... I don't want things to be weird between us."
You chuckled, relieved that she had addressed the elephant in the room. "Yeah, it's been a bit...awkward."
Leah fidgeted with the hem of her jumper. "I like you, okay? And not just as a friend. I've liked you for a while now, but I didn't know how to say it."
Your heart raced. Leah, your best friend, was confessing her feelings. You hadn't expected this. You thought it was just you.
"Leah," you began, "I—"
She interrupted you. "Wait, let me finish." She took a deep breath. "I know you've never thought of me that way. But maybe...maybe we could give it a shot? A date, just to see?"
You stared at her, your mind racing. Could you risk your friendship for something more? But then you remembered the way her lips had felt against yours on New Year's Eve.
Maybe it was worth exploring.
"Okay," you said, surprising yourself. "Let's go on that date."
Leah's face lit up, and she stepped closer, pulling you into a hug. "Really?"
"Yeah," you replied, smiling. "But no more awkwardness, okay? We'll figure this out together."
The following days were spent planning a date for that weekend. You and Leah were inseparable once again, this time you shared kisses and sweet moments together.
There wasn’t a lot you and Leah didn’t know about each other or had done together so you decided to go to a fancy restaurant together, something Leah deemed as a ‘fancy’ date.
Leah picked up that Friday evening, you were wearing an elegant navy blue shirt that you’d paired with a black skirt. Leah was wearing a white shirt and a pair of beige trousers, an outfit that you couldn’t tear your eyes from.
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The fancy restaurant was everything you'd imagined. A dimly lit space with crystal chandeliers, and soft piano music playing in the background. Leah sat across from you, focused as she studied the menu. You both ordered dishes you couldn't pronounce, laughing at your attempts.
The conversation flowed effortlessly. You talked about different things. One thing that popped up was if you wanted kids, you’d talked about it before but not about having them together. You both decided you wanted either two or three kids, a large age gap between the first two like Leah had with her brother. Leah's hand brushed yours, sending a jolt of electricity up your arm.
After dessert, you left the restaurant and decided to take a walk. The restaurant was conveniently located near an old arcade, its neon sign glowed from across the street.
Leah grinned, tugging you along. "An arcade, c’mon,"
Inside, the air smelled of popcorn. You played basketball, competing fiercely for the highest score. Leah's laughter echoed through the room as she aimed for the bullseye on the darts. She won, of course, and claimed her prize which was a tiny dinosaur teddy that she insisted was a T. rex.
As you wandered from game to game, you forgot about everything else. The awkwardness, the uncertainty. It was just you and Leah, lost in a world you’d created together with love and laughter.
Finally, you stood in front of the photo booth. Leah hesitated, then pulled you inside. The curtain closed, and the camera flashed. You both squeezed into the tiny seat, your knees touching. Leah's cheeks were flushed, and you wondered if she felt the same way you did.
"Can I kiss you?" she whispered, her breath warm against your lips.
You nodded, heart pounding and then her mouth was on yours. The photo booth captured the moment of the two of you, tangled together, hearts racing.
When the curtain opened, you stepped out, hand in hand and took your strip of photos. The neon lights outside seemed brighter, the world more vivid.
Leah leaned against you, her head on your shoulder. "Best first date ever," she murmured.
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February 14th 2019 - 21 years old.
It’d been just over a month since your first date with Leah and things were perfect between the pair of you despite still being unofficial.
You’d been on so many dates that you’d lost count, it seemed like you were doing something different every day together. Those dates ranged from little things such as movie nights on your sofa and cooking together to going to fancy restaurants on the weekend.
Valentine’s Day arrived, and the air was thick with romance. You’d been expecting a quiet evening at home with Leah, maybe binge-watching your favourite TV show. But Leah had other plans.
She showed up at your door, holding a bouquet of red roses. Her cheeks were flushed, and her eyes sparkled.
“Happy Valentine’s Day,” she said, her voice a little breathless.
You blinked, surprised by the roses. “Leah, these are gorgeous! Thank you.” You smiled, taking the roses from Leah before pulling her into a hug and kissing her lips.
She ran her hand down your hip, “Only the best for the prettiest girl.”
You spent that evening cooking pasta together before eating it on the sofa while watching Notting Hill, your favourite movie that you begged Leah to watch with you.
A few hours later, she took you to the rooftop of your apartment building, where fairy lights decorated the railing.
Leah stood there, her eyes looking into yours as she held you close. Her hands rested once again on your hips. "I've been thinking," she began, her voice soft. "About us."
Your heart raced. You'd been thinking about this moment for weeks. The stolen kisses and the late-night conversations replayed in your mind. Now, everything felt real.
"I don't want to be just friends or whatever we are anymore," Leah said, her fingers brushing against your hips. "I want more."
You swallowed, your throat suddenly dry. "More?"
She nodded. "I want to be with you, officially. No more tiptoeing around. What do you say? Will you be my girlfriend, pretty girl?”
"Yeah," you smiled stupidly before kissing Leah’s lips, "Of course, I’ll be your girlfriend."
Her lips brushing against yours once again. Your heartbeats synced, and you knew that this was the beginning of something.
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February 14th 2021 - 23 years old.
Anxiety had been bubbling up inside of you all day. It was your two year anniversary with Leah and you'd never felt anxious like this before.
Somehow you’d convinced yourself that Leah was proposing after your best friend, Beth, had slipped up a few weeks ago. You were round at her house, trying to make plans, when the blonde slipped up.
——
two weeks ago…
“What about next weekend?” Beth asked, scrolling through her calendar, “Wait no, Leah’s taking you to that place.”
You looked up from your phone, raising an eyebrow as Beth’s face turned red, “What place?”
“Shit,” Beth mumbled, “It was supposed to be a surprise!”
“What place, Beth?” You questioned, setting your phone down beside you. Beth ignored your question and continued scrolling on her phone, “Bethany Mead you better tell me!”
Beth groaned, “It’s a surprise Leah told me about! You weren’t supposed to know, I’m not saying anymore you can ask her when she comes back from getting food with Viv.”
The next fifteen minutes were torture for both you and Beth. You interrogated her, trying to get answers while Beth tried her hardest to not spill anything.
Beth had been your best friend since you were thirteen and she was fifteen so it was hard for her not to spill any secrets to you. It wasn’t long before Viv and Leah were arriving back with the takeaway you and Beth had sent them out for.
“You alright, pretty girl?” Leah asked as you and Beth walked into the kitchen.
“Don’t be mad but…” You trailed off, looking at Beth. “Beth slipped up about the weekend away you’re taking me on when we were trying to plan out girls’ evening..” you started to anxiously play with your rings on your fingers.
“Oh for god sake, Beth!” Leah groaned, “it was a surprise!”
Viv laughed, grabbing four plates from the cupboard, “told you that you shouldn’t have told Beth.”
“I’m sorry!” Beth sighed, “it was an accident, it just slipped out. I was thinking about other things and I accidentally told her!”
“It’s fine,” Leah sighs, “What else did you tell her?”
——
In that moment, you never questioned what Leah meant by “what else did you tell her” but when you got home later that evening you couldn’t stop thinking about it. You laid awake that night and that’s when the thought of Leah proposing sprung to mind.
You questioned Leah all week on where you were going, something that she wouldn’t reveal. However, you did get her to tell you what to pack.
The thought of Leah proposing never left your mind all week, that’s what led to you being so anxious about today.
When you woke up this morning, your anxiety was still present. You weren’t feeling a scared-anxious about Leah proposing, you were a happy-anxious, something that you couldn’t figure out.
You and Leah had exchanged gifts this morning, you’d bought Leah a golden watch that was engraved on the bottom with sweet words you’d gotten customised. Leah had bought you a love heart necklace, something dainty but it meant a lot to you.
You’d then spent the day on the beach, sunbathing and playing around in the water like teenagers before heading back to the hotel for a fancy dinner.
Leah had picked your outfit and you’d picked hers. She’d chosen a cream floral mini dress that fell halfway down your thighs and you’d chosen a striped shirt and short set with a white top underneath.
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Once dinner was over, Leah had convinced you to take a walk on the beach. The sun dipped low on the horizon, casting a warm golden glow over the sandy beach. Leah held your hand as you both strolled along the water's edge, the gentle waves lapping at your feet.
“Someday I wanna marry you, you know.” Leah smiled, swinging your hands back and forth.
You laughed nervously, “Yeah, yeah, someday in about six years!”
“No I’m serious,” Leah smiled, she dragged you down the beach a bit more and your mouth dropped open in shock when you saw what was in front of you.
A white blanket was spread out on the sand, and a bunch of red roses were placed on the blanket. A constellation of glass holders held flickering candles, their flames casting shadows on the beach. Single red roses were placed between the candles. The letters ‘marry me’ were set up behind the blanket.
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Leah stopped, turning to face you. Her expression was a mix of nervousness and excitement. "You know," she began, "when we first started dating, I never imagined you’d complete me in every way. But here we are, two years later."
Leah dropped to one knee, pulling a small velvet box from her pocket. The world seemed to hold its breath.
"I would rather share one lifetime with you than face all the ages of this world alone." Leah laughed, tears welling in her eyes.
You laughed, wiping your own tears, “Did you just quote lord of fucking the rings? You’re such a nerd!”
"I’m your nerd though,” Leah smiled, “Will you marry me?" she asked, her voice trembling.
Tears welled up in your eyes. "Yes," you whispered. "Of course I’ll marry you, you idiot!”
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August 16th 2022 - 25 years old.
“Who knew that wedding planning was so fucking stressful!” You mumbled as you and Leah cuddled on the sofa in your shared apartment.
You and Leah were currently trying to plan your wedding but you didn’t realise how much legal stuff there was and the difficulties it wouldn’t give you.
You’d been engaged for just over a year now and you were both eager to get married. Although it wasn’t a massive thing for you both, you just wanted things to be official and for you to be Mrs Williamson.
Leah sat up, resting her hand on your thigh, “Why don’t we just go an elope? Who says we need a big white wedding?”
You laughed thinking Leah was joking, “Yeah as if, we’re not going to elope. What about your family?”
Leah shrugged, “We’d need witnesses so what if we took my family? Then we could have a big white wedding when we’re ready for it for all of our other family and friends.”
You gasped, throwing your phone down beside you, “Wait your not fucking with me? You’re actually serious?!”
The blonde nodded as a laugh escaped her lips, “Yes I’m being serious, pretty girl. It’d take all the stress out of it.”
“You’d seriously want that?” You asked, “I know how much these things matter to you. I’d love to elope.”
Leah nodded and leaned in, placing a kiss on your lips, “I would love to elope with you. We can have a big white wedding later on.”
You nodded eagerly, “Let’s do it then!”
The decision was made. You and Leah would elope, surrounded by her family as witnesses. It felt like a secret moment just for the two of you.
The next few days were spent arranging a time where all of Leah’s closest family could be there as well as getting your dress and Leah’s suit. You arranged to get married at the courthouse and have Leah’s parents, brother, grandma and cousins there.
The legalities were sorted out, and you found yourselves standing in a quaint little courthouse, nerves fluttering like butterflies in your stomachs.
Leah wore a simple beige suit, her blonde hair pulled back. Her eyes sparkled with excitement, and you couldn’t tear your gaze away from her. You had picked out a plain white dress that fell halfway down your things. Your hair was in a half up half down type of hairstyle with a bowed vail in it.
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You and Leah walked down the aisle together, Leah’s family spread down both sides of the aisle. The officiant did all of the boring wedding stuff before you and Leah were finally able to say your vows. You went first.
You took a deep breath before looking at Leah, feeling a sense of calmness wash over me as she squeezed your hands. "Leah, my best friend, my first love, I can't believe we're actually standing here. After everything this took, I can't believe at the end of the day I'll be able to call you my wife. Growing up, I never thought i'd be lucky enough to meet, let alone fall in love, with someone like you. I never thought someone would be able to love me the way you do unconditionally. I wish I could put into words how truly amazing you are but there aren't enough words.”
You take your hand out of Leah’s and quickly wipe your tears as she takes her chance to wipe her own fallen tears, “I won't forget the day I met you on that England camp, I was the shy girl and hadn't spoken a word to anyone and you came over with Keira and both made me feel welcome. Ever since then, you've been my absolute rock. We've gone from friends, to lovers, to fiancés and now we finally get to be wives. You are so loving and patient and even in the times I don't feel lovable, you still love me. I promise to love you forever and through everything. I can't wait to do life with you. I love you, Le.”
Leah’s teary eyes widened as you finished, she squeezed your hands again. She laughed a little, “Oh my god I’m getting emotional, right my turn!”
You laughed out loud, as you brought a hand up to wipe the tears under your eyes. “When aren’t you emotional!”
Leah squeezed your hands once again before talking, . "I've been thinking about this day for the last three years, planning everything I wanted to say to you, to promise you. I'm convinced that I know you better than I know myself, and I love that little fact about me. At this point, my heart is so full of you, I feel like I can hardly call it my own. Every time I've looked at you since the day that I met you i've found something new to love and obsess over.
"I promise to protect you from everything bad in the world and shower you with all of the good. I promise to show you the best parts of yourself while allowing you to be your own person. I promise to be the best wife and future mother that I can be for you and our future kids. I promise to cherish and love you endlessly."
Leah smiles through tears before continuing. "Thank you for standing by me through everything and following me around half the country and world with my football. I truly wouldn’t be able to do it without you, when I’m playing I know that afterwards I get to see your face and that’s something that I will always love. When you need help, I will be there for you. When you need care, I will care for you. When you want to try something new, I will encourage you. And when you do the same for me, I will love you. I will love you forever, pretty girl.”
You sunk your teeth into your bottom lip to avoid a full-fledged sob from escaping your mouth from her words. Jacob handed the rings to Leah, he was the trusted ring bearer although Leah joked about him losing them.
Before you knew it, you and Leah were pronounced wife and wife and were having your first kiss before walking out of the courthouse. You were given a few minutes before Leah’s family joined you.
Leah pulled you in for a kiss, her hand resting at the small of your back, “I love you so much. I can’t wait to do life with you, pretty girl.”
“I love you more,” you mumbled against her lips, “I love you so much more.”
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Liked by Leah Williamson and 112,000 others
y/n.williamson officially Mrs Williamson 💐💍
leahwilliamsonn oh my that’s my wifey 😍
view 26 replies liked by 178 others
bethmead_ so happy for you both! absolutely stunning!
view 15 replies liked by 120 others
lionesses congrats! 🙌🏻
view 2 replies liked by 78 others
liawaelti congrats, so much love for you both 💗
view 4 replies liked by 98 others
keirawalsh erm where’s my invite? happy for you both 🫶🏻
view 26 replies liked by 90 others
kyracooneyx parents, took you long enough 🙄
view 16 replies liked by 125 others
mbaker1971 would say welcome to the family but you’ve been apart of it for many years!
view 24 replies liked by 160 others
viviannemiedema 💍🫶🏻💗
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lizlovestofangirl · 2 months
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dating headcanon with Arthur Leclerc ?
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"call it what you want"
pairing... arthur leclerc x fem!reader
now playing... call it what you want by taylor swift
summary... what's it like to date the youngest leclerc brother?
letter from liz... this is pretty short so i can do a pt 2 if enough people want!
warning... swearing
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having been a fan of formula 1 for a long time, it was so exciting to finally attend your first grand prix!
while sitting at a table with your best friend in the paddock, you saw charles leclerc
trailed by his little brother
your friend was freaking out becauze, charles fucking leclerc, duh
but you were freaking out because arthur fucking leclerc was right in front of you
your friend went up to charles and asked for a picture while you stood awkwardly
but it wasn't awkward for long
because arthur started talking to you
he asked your name, where you grew up, what you thought of the paddock
and when it seemed like the interaction with charles and your friend was done, he asked for your number
top 3 shocks of your life
you gave it to him and thought about it for the rest of the day, but eventually convinced yourself that nothing would happen
until you got a text from an unknown number
"hey y/n, it's arthur" it read
you responded and spent the rest of the night and next day getting to know each other over text before facetiming the next night
when you said you had to go after hours of talking, he asked you to dinner the next night
you said yes, obviously
one date turned into two, two to three and a kiss, three to four and flowers, and finally date five
that night, he looked especially good and seemed especially nervous
that was until he asked you to be his girlfriend, or rather asked to be your boyfriend
the grin on his face when you said yes was infectious
and you were now dating a leclerc
he is so perfect for you
very physical touch oriented, but still makes an effort to cater to your love language
loves kisses (especially making out), hugs, cuddles, or just having an arm around you
sleeping is so much easier with him than without him
he's naturally warm, and prefers to absolutely envelop you while sleeping
im talking completely flopped on top of you holding you as close as possible
he loves watching you talk about and do things you love
just stares at you, absolutely obsessed, as you talk about whatever you had been reading about or working on
he plays piano and always tries to convince you to sing with him, not caring about your talent or lack thereof
fights are rare, but when they happen he makes a strong effort not to raise his voice at you
he never goes to bed angry though because he can't stand the thought of you being upset in the other room
he is always quick to apologize, just wanting to hold you
his family was amazed the first time the saw just how soft he is around you, but by now they've gotten used to it
charles is the most likely to tease him about you, but he doesn't care
it it makes you happy it's worth it
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