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kentopedia · 1 year

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♰ skipping heartbeats — nanami kento

.𖥔 ݁ ˖🕸️🕷.𖥔 ݁ ˖ KINKTOBER NO. 3 - curse user!nanami

nanami wants to see every jujutsu sorcerer dead, but he might make an exception just for you

contents. fem!reader, nsfw minors dni, sorcerer!reader, rough sex, slight overstimulation, begging, pet names, unprotected sex, villain nanami, jjk typical violence, tw mahito apperance :/, exes, angst, soft dom nanami, wall sex — 5.6k

He was never the same after Shibuya.

It's been two years, but you still remember that October with clarity. Memories blur at the back of your eyelids each night, carving images into your irises; each time you think you’ll get a full night of sleep, Nanami Kento returns to haunt your dreams, then lingers to steal your waking moments.

The change in him had been gradual, subdued. He’d hidden it well, so well, in fact, that everyone had believed that he was doing fine. Even you, the one who should’ve known him better than anyone, had never gotten him to reveal his darkest thoughts.

His succumb to madness was slow, but it was the consequence of a near decade. The burden of a sorcerer weighed heavily on everyone, but it hit Nanami the hardest, years and years of survivor’s guilt and misery bearing on his shoulders.

Then Halloween in Shibuya had happened; Nanami nearly lost his life, and something in him snapped. It wasn’t long after that he left. You haven’t seen him since.

Close to twenty-four months have passed since he disappeared, but his presence still lingers, twisting your world and your life into a den of chaos. No one is left at the school, and there are hardly any sorcerers left in Japan. Those who are still alive have moved anywhere but Tokyo, and those who stay know it won’t be long before they lose their lives too.

Your breath catches as you listen in silence, recounting every moment that led you here.

There is a scream from the other building, listlessly crying for help, but you won’t reach them in time, nor do you have the power to fight back. Despite your endless intelligence, your technique isn’t built for combat. It isn’t a threat to semi-grade one curses, and it certainly isn’t a threat to Nanami Kento.

You squeeze your eyes shut, slumping against the wall as you hold your arm, a bloodied wound seeping through your sleeve. There is no one here to heal you, no one left to help. Shoko moved away from the school months ago, once she realized that too many sorcerers are dying and Gojo is never coming back.

After that, many of the students left too; save for the few third years that had been determined to stay and fight.

The scream sounds again, before it’s cut off, abruptly. Another student gone. Another sorcerer dead.

You’d been such a fool to think you could take the place of people like Yaga, Gojo, Nanami; that you could bring together the last remaining sorcerers in the city. They’d been ones to look up to, strong and steadfast, but you are neither of those things.

You are the weak one who’d managed to stay alive, and the last person that probably should’ve.

Still, you persist, not giving into death so easily. There has to be an escape route; if you can’t save the students, maybe, just maybe, you can save yourself. There is still hope, as long as just one sorcerer is left in Tokyo. The school can be rebuilt, the curses can be exorcised, and things can go back to normal.

As long as you stay alive.

You listen, waiting for another sound before you move, attuned to your surroundings. The doors are shut, locking you in, and it’s too dark, too empty in the building for you to hide anywhere. Classrooms you’d once shared with Gojo open up like an endless chasm, the vending machine you got sodas from with Geto leers at you, and the hallways you’d kissed Kento in…

The memories are so soured.

You’re so close to the door, though. So close, and you can be free of the ghostly memories, and this time, you’ll leave Tokyo once and for all.

There is nothing left for you here now. With each day that passes, you start to realize more and more that no one is coming back. They’re all gone, and Nanami is not the man he’d once been.

You shuffle along the wall, trying to stay hidden in the shadows, away from the lights that flicker up above, destroyed by the veil of cursed energy. While your entire life has been a cacophony of evil, never before have you felt, so intensely, that you’re in a horror film. You are the final girl, ironically, without an ounce of heroine vigor.

All you have is a sliver of willpower to stay alive; just a few feet away, and you’ll be there, outside, able to escape from this pit of hell.

It’s so close—but not close enough.

“There you are!” a voice cries out, ringing like a jovial song through the hallways. It is eerily familiar, much too high-pitched and enthusiastic for such a brutal warzone. “We’ve been looking for you.”

You turn, shoulders stiff as you try hard not to freeze. Behind you, a young curse stands casually, his blue hair rolling over one of his shoulders, a stitched face smiling at you evilly. He’s pleased to see you, that much is obvious, and he prances over to you, fingers waving in the air.

“Oh, I can’t wait! I have to make you last because we’re running out of sorcerors to play with!” The tone is horrifyingly amused, more frightening than Geto in his final hours, of any of the clan higher-ups, even of Gojo at his absolute worst.

It’s the tone of someone who feels nothing, who cares about nothing, and who will enjoy watching you bleed.

You open your mouth, throat dry as you scramble for words, for a way to defend yourself. Three seconds stretch out into a minute while you contemplate, but Mahito is already upon you, his eyes flashing with excitement.

This would be it, wouldn’t it? How poetic that this wretched curse would be the one to kill you, after he took everything from you two years ago.

He advances; but something stops him, another aura. It’s not as powerful, but it’s much more commanding, much more human.

“Mahito.” The tone is forceful, flat, without any nuance of sound. It comes from behind you, and you stiffen, knowing from the simple string of letters who it is. The sound of the voice has something unfurling in your chest, choking you, rendering you helpless. “Don’t touch her.”

“Why?” Mahito whines, curling his fingers around your hair, his cursed face and energy too close, too frightening for you to move. “There’s no one left to kill. What am I supposed to do now?”

“Find something.” Nanami’s to you in just a few steps, and you can feel his presence behind you, the voice that slowly sneaks up on you. He smells the same as he did back then, and you squeeze your eyes shut, try to remember that he’s not Kento anymore, and whoever he is, you don’t love him.

You can’t.

“I’ll take care of her.”

Mahito grumbles, but after a few seconds of staring down Nanami, he leaves, skipping off to some other corner of the school. It’s disgusting how pleased he is by the murders he’s committed, but why shouldn’t he be? If his goal is to rid the world of sorcerers, he’s done quite well at accomplishing it.

Which meant every one of your students is dead. Which meant any remaining sorcerers are gone for good. There isn’t a jujutsu sorcerer left in Tokyo but you, and even though you need to call for help, no one can get here fast enough to save you.

Nanami, slowly, comes around to glower before you, standing too close, his breath ghosting your shoulders. You feel his gaze like daggers, dragging over every inch of you, regarding you with a thinly veiled disgust.

You’re not ready to face him, not after all the time you’ve been apart, but you don’t have a choice. He’s in front of you within seconds, looking down at you from the bridge of his nose, his hair mussed, but still in the same style that he’d worn two years ago.

It is, really, the only thing about him that hasn’t changed.

“How the hell did you end up back here?” That’s the first thing he says, the tone crazed and so opposite of the flat inflection his voice had always held. The sound leaves a bitter taste in your mouth, and you twitch, trying to keep your expression from shifting. Not even a simple greeting before he’s already mocking you, judging your poor choices, the ones that will get you killed.

You say nothing, but regard him with a dry mouth, letting your eyes drift across his broad shoulders, down his chest. He’s covered in blood, stained deep maroon—evidence of his murders, the color so different than the gore of curses.

The old beige suit is gone, replaced by an expensive black one, tailored perfectly to every angle of his body. Nanami has traded in the blue button-up for a crisp burgundy one, and though the tie is different, it’s recognizable.

You’d gotten him that tie for his 28th birthday, one of black silk embossed with flowers, tiny white ones woven within the vines. You’d purchased it on your trip abroad.

It makes you sick. You’re not sure how long you can look at him without expelling the contents of your stomach.

“You know,” he says, not waiting for you to answer as he walks around, swinging his weapon that is now used for evil. “I thought that maybe when I left, you’d decide to do something with your life.” His irises that are now so dark, nearly black, pin you. Gone, too, are the old glasses, exposing his severe, narrowed eyes. “You stayed in Tokyo to rot.”

“What choice did I have?” you ask, wishing you could speak without your voice cracking. Yet, when Nanami stalks you like prey, calculating, the familiar blade in his hands, you feel a flare of fear start up in your stomach.

You don’t know the man before you. He’s beautiful, as handsome as you remember. Yet, he stares at you with disdain, and he’s cruel, so cruel. His lips are hardened into a permanent scowl, seeping through his merciless laugh.

“Well,” Nanami stops pacing and stands in front of you, running a hand down the side of the cursed tool, thoughtful. “I had hoped you’d come with me, but I knew better than to ask. Your moral convictions would have prevented that, darling.” A smile drips with poison as your steadfastness falters, the name sliding smoothly off his tongue, something about it still so sweet, even with his malice. “You always were too good for me.”

That isn’t true, at least, not in your mind. He had been a good man once, the very best. Maybe you could’ve done something to stop this, to help him. Yet, as many times as you run it over in your mind, even you can’t pinpoint the exact moment he’d fallen.

“You’re right,” you say, grateful that your voice sounds a little stronger, a little harder. “I never would’ve come with you. You’ve killed our friends. You’ve killed children, Nanami.”

Something shifts between you; his eyes widen as he takes another pace forward, nothing but inches separating you. Against every intelligent cell in your body, your heart skips, breath catching at his proximity.

“Nanami?” he asks, eyebrows pulling together with a sigh. The air grows stagnant around you as he notices the lack of warmth behind your apathetic eyes. “Here I thought you’d still call me by my name. We did once share a bed after all.”

“That means nothing to me now,” you spit, wishing he would stop staring at you with such hunger. You’ve never been immune to him, and you’re not sure you are now, not sure that you won’t waver at his feet, if even out of panic. He’s so solid before you, a resolute being of power. Perhaps he’s even stronger now than he was before. “Look at you. I don’t know who you are.”

Nanami points the sword at your throat, and though it’s blunt, not sharp enough to do any damage, you still weaken in the knees, stare back at him with something akin to dread. Your eyes are wide, but your breath comes out steady as your hands shake by your sides.

“I’m the person who decided to do something, finally.” Nanami raises his voice, every word punctuated by years of repressed anger. “Sorcerers grumbled for decades, centuries, but no one made any effort to make a change.” His jaw clenches as he drops the weapon back down, sniffing with abhorrence. Nanami’s in your personal space, his breath hot on your cheeks, and you feel tears well up in your eyes, even when you’re not sure why. “Even Gojo Satoru, who claimed to hate the higher-ups, who saved Yuuji Itadori, did little. I’m the person who realized that nothing’s going to change, not unless the system is burned from the inside out.”

A twitch starts from your heels, rising as he glares down at you. His features are tense, every muscle in his body taut. Still, there’s something about him. There’s something about the way he’s wearing the tie you once bought him, as familiar as the tall, strong frame that leers over you.

“There’s none of us left, Nanami,” you say, blinking away those tears, even though he’s already spotted them, the corner of his lips quirking with a crazed glint to his eyes. “You’ve made sure of that.”

“Then a new order of sorcerers can build its way from the ground up.” Nanami leans forward, his face near yours as he cocks his head. “I’ve succeeded.”

You squeeze your fingers into your shirt, twisting them around the stiff cotton tightly. Your heel slips just one inch back, away from him, and the movement doesn’t go unnoticed by your ex-lover.

He scoffs, a smirk widening.

“What’s wrong?” Nanami says. A veiny hand snakes between you, and he cups your cheek with a softness that goes against every fiber of what he stands for. “Are you afraid of me?”

Your lips part, but words don’t come out. Instead, you blink up at him with glossy eyes, your heart hammering in your chest.

“You probably should be,” he continues, his fingers brushing your jaw, luring you in, a security blanket that he will snatch away once you get comfortable. “I’ve ruined your life.”

The room feels colder than it did before, as terror starts pressing down on you, your entire body shaking with anxiety. Still, your eyelids flutter at his touch, every cell within you reacting out of muscle memory, weakened by the killer’s touch.

“A life that you once promised to protect.”

He smiles, and it’s so cold, a rival only to the devil's, even though it ignites a flame in your chest. “Why do you think I saved you for last?”

Your eyes burn with tears.

“Still as pretty as I remember,” Nanami hums on the edge of a sigh, and his gaze darts all over your face, searching for a secret buried there. His tone is rough, but, somehow, there’s an ounce of affection there too, like a part of him is still holding onto the near decade you were together. It’s no consolation, but it gives you some satisfaction; at least it meant something. “You have a new boyfriend?”

You turn hot all over at the way he grins at you, watches the flush form on your face as your eyes fly open. Nanami has you in the palm of his hand, easily, and whatever happens, it’ll be up to him. “N-no,” you stutter, his thumb sliding over your mouth, knocking against your teeth.

His grin is wild, predatory. “I knew I’d ruined you for anyone else.”

A breath catches in your throat, and your chest rises and falls heavily from the wave of desire that goes straight to your stomach. You feel as if your knees might give out, that you might need to grab onto him, just to stand upright.

It’s sickening, and you hate yourself, hate how much you want him, even though he’s the one that killed the people you care most about.

“Kento?” you ask in a small voice. “Are you going to kill me?”

“I don’t know.” He softens, just a hair, and easily, he’s back to the man you remember, the sweet, caring one you thought you’d marry one day. “I probably should… but I think I might just fuck you instead.” The words are muttered against your lips, and you stumble forward, gripping his strong biceps, a feeble attempt to keep from puddling at his feet.

His face clears once again, stoic, and harsh. Maybe it’s all a ploy to get you in his arms, to weaken you even further, but you don’t care. You’ve missed him, you’ve missed him so much, and you’d die to kiss him one more time. The blood on his face doesn’t matter; nothing matters except how much you once loved him, the love that never went away, even in the times you wanted to hate him.

You wonder whether or not Satoru would sympathize if he was here. Maybe he’d understand why you never went after Nanami and holed yourself up in the school instead. Although you tried to protect your students, you could never act out of violence, and that had cost you everything.

You know you've made mistakes, perhaps more than anyone, but you can’t control your heart; it’s a heart that is caged by steely ribs, and still the possessor of your fragile mind.

“Kento,” you say, running your hands all over him, the muscles that have only hardened, grown with time. “I miss you.”

It’s nothing more than a whisper, but it still changes his entire demeanor, turns him into something desperate. Kento comes on twice as strong; every caress sends a wave of need through you. When you whimper, toppling under his gentle touches, he kisses you hard, pushes you backwards into the wall.

The taste of his lips is almost too much, a conflict of memories piling onto you, transporting you into a version of yourself that is two years younger, much more hopeful. You kiss him like you’re twenty-two, unsharpened by the world, because despite what you have suffered, life was better seven years ago than it is now.

The illusion is short-lived, though; Kento is rougher than he used to be, and he shoves you hard, bruises your lips. His tongue forces its way into your mouth, sloppy kisses smearing saliva all over your cheeks.

He may not be as kind as he once was, but you’ll never be able to deny your attraction for him.

“Fuck.” Kento unzips his slacks, palming at the bulge that already lies within the tight material. “Look what you do to me, baby.” It catches you off guard; he’s never called you that before, never sounded so lewd instead of loving. “Think I started getting hard the second I saw you. Remember the last time I was inside you?”

You groan against his lips, breathing heavily as you thread your smaller hands in his hair. He tastes like alcohol, and you know that he’s always enjoyed a drink, but it was never this prominent on his tongue. That observation alone makes you wonder what else about him has changed; if he sleeps on the same side of the bed now that you’re gone, if he likes to read just as much as before, if he still takes his coffee with just a splash of milk.

The thoughts hurt, searing a hole through your chest. You try to ignore them.

As you kiss, Kento manhandles you backwards, his fingers spread over your collarbones. Your back hits the wall, a ghoulish crack reverberating throughout the room. It hurts, but the pain is outweighed by the feeling of him all over your body, the sheer anticipation for him to touch you like you need.

“Want you,” you say, as his hands clamp around your delicate wrists, pinning them against the wall. Kento’s palms are so much bigger; he’s so strong that it’s devastating. You have no choice but to let him take from you, to kiss down your neck and leave a bruise you won’t be able to cover up in the morning. “Please.”

“Dirty girl,” he laughs, breathless against your throat, the sound vibrating against the strained tendons there. Hastily, he spins you around, forces your face into the wall, your chest pressed into it. Your cheek is cold, smashed into your bone against the plaster. “I’ve killed everyone in this building, and here you are, begging me to touch you.”

The rough tone sends desire coursing through you, and you cry out against the wall as arousal bleeds out of you. Kento kisses you, across your shoulders, his cock pressing up against you, hard and thick.

A groan releases into your ear, and you squirm, rubbing your thighs together in anguish. Begrudgingly, Kento lets one of your wrists go so that he can drag your skirt down, leaving you with shivering legs in the cool October evening.

You reach back to grab at him, desperately needing him inside of you; but he stills you with his hand, laughing eagerly into your skin.

“So impatient. Thought I taught you better than that.” Though, he drags your panties down quicker, lets them pool at your ankles along with the dark-colored skirt. It’s obvious he wants you just as much; he wastes no time dragging a hand down his cock, the tip already beginning to leak.

“Kento,” you say against the cold wall, throbbing, swallowing down all your need for him. It’s too dark for you to see every one of his pretty features, but his shadowy eyes gleam ruthlessly in the moonlight. “Let me kiss you again—”

Kento tsks and shakes his head, brushing your hair over one shoulder. “Now, that can’t happen. You’ll fall in love with me again too easily.” A laugh forces its way out of his chest, and you hate that the sound creates pressure in your body. You’re already in love with him, but his grip is too tight on you; you can’t kiss him, even though you want to.

A finger runs between your folds as Kento reaches between your legs, gathering slick in the process. His skin is cold, and you whimper; he used to be so warm, a natural furnace. Yet, he’s teasing you now, listening to your breathy little whispers as you lean back into him.

Without thinking, you grasp his hand with your own, slide it forward as the veins and tendons flex under your palm. This time, he complies; he lets you push his fingers into your cunt, much thicker and longer than your own.

“Oh sweetheart,” he says, full of scornful sympathy, so contrary to the soft kisses on your neck. “You’re soaked. Have you really missed me that much?”

Your breath grows hot, heavy as he sinks his fingers deeper into you. You think about how much you loved him two years ago, and how much you still do.

Everyone you care about is gone, everyone but him. Perhaps Kento is the only one who’s truly ever mattered, because even if you’d been asked to kill him, you never would’ve done it, never could’ve; you’re not strong enough.

That’s where you and Satoru differ.

Kento slides his fingers in and out, stretching you, brushing against your swollen clit that’s begging to be touched by him. He bites down hard on your shoulder, blooms a bruise there and marks you as his forever, even if you’d never be anyone else’s anyways.

Already, you feel your climax building; you’re breathing heavier, crying out his name in a voice that doesn’t quite sound like your own. “I’m c-close,” you manage, and that is the wrong thing to say. He stills all at once and slips his fingers out of you, a web of arousal smeared over his knuckles.

Between your legs, you’re sticky, cold, but you barely notice. Your attention is directed on how aching and empty you are when his hands leave your body.

With a whine, you force your hips backwards, hating the chill that surrounds you all at once. “I wanna cum—”

“Feels good, doesn’t it?” Kento smiles against your neck and drags his cock against the small of your back, swollen and hard. “But I know you can ask much nicer than that.”

You squeeze your eyes shut, “please, Kento, please, please, I need you, I—”

“There’s my good girl.” A breathy laugh leaves him as he angles the tip against your entrance, slow, pressing into you. “Fuck,” Kento groans, loudly, drawing out the syllables. “Squeezing me so tight, baby, you’ve been waiting just for me?”

“Ken—” you say, and it’s all you can manage, the little nickname that no one’s ever called him but you. Kento buries himself inside you, his hot, muscular chest pressing into your back, pinning you against the cold wall. He’s so much bigger and wider, and his body encases you, shielding you from the agony that he’s dealt with his own hand.

You’re not sure if you can stand on your own — not under the weight of your solid and forceful affection for him.

“I know, I know," he says to the sweet sounds that escape you. "I’ve got you.”

Kento reaches around and cups your breast, squeezing hard. His thumb flicks over your nipple, the nail dragging against it cruelly as he swirls over the padded bra. Still, his blanketed touch is electrifying; your fingers curl into the wall, smooth, clawing without anything to grab onto.

He fucks into you, slowly, his strained cock rough against your walls. It’s just as you remember, and you long for your old life, wishing that there was a sorcerer out there whose technique could somehow turn back time. Then, you’d do something different, even if you’re not sure what.

With each thrust, his speed increases, hitting deeper and deeper inside you. Kento’s groans are so pretty, and tears roll down your cheeks at the feeling of him within you, surrounding you, the man you still touch yourself to at night, even when he’s a cold-blooded killer.

“It’s been a while since anyone’s fucked you like this, hm?” Kento says, cooing, almost sorry, even if he doesn’t realize how true that is. You feel dizzy with him, the sound of his syrupy voice, so deep and invigorating. “Need to cum so bad, don’t you, pretty?”

“Please,” you say, and you almost tell him you love him, almost let it slip, even though it can’t. This is nothing, this is nothing, this is nothing, you try and tell yourself, but you’re too distracted by the sounds, the utter sin that you’ve committed here in this school.

You’ve betrayed everyone, and you’re still betraying them now, your weak heart nothing but a burden.

Kento says your name, groans it around your ear as he presses harder into your body. His cock angles upwards, forces itself past your aching walls, and, he’s buried in you completely. There’s a lingering sting, a bitter pain, but Kento feels like home. Your stomach tightens, bursting with energy.

“You’re so perfect, aren’t you? So beautiful. Always take it like you were made for my cock,” he groans, and you suck him right back in, clamping around him tightly. “I missed this pretty pussy; maybe as much as I missed you.”

Tears well up in your eyes then, and you sob, reach around to grab his hair. You need to feel him all around you, remember what it was like for him to love you in return.

He hits a spot within you, and you arch into him, crying, a mess between your legs and on your face.

“There?” Kento says, but he already knows the answer, grinning as he kisses your cheek, your temple. “How could I ever forget the sweet sounds you make when you’re about to cum.”

You press his head closer, feel him kiss your neck again, softer this time, lovingly. He runs a delicate hand across your ribcage, your stomach. “You going to let go for me, angel? Surprised you lasted this long after two years. Think my sweet girl deserves it.”

“K-kento,” you whisper, but his name doesn’t get far; it’s cut off by your moan as he rips the orgasm from you, and you clench around him tightly, shaking.

“That’s it,” he says and shudders, grunting as he forces out the words. Your body jerks involuntarily into him as you slump against the wall, trapped between it and Kento. Already, you’re so sensitive, and your tears don’t stop falling as he pushes his cock into you again and again.

Kento’s heart is heavy within his chest, pounding against your back. You feel sick, helpless, missing him endlessly, even with him right at your fingertips. You can’t believe that you’ve lasted two years without him; how can you survive a lifetime?

“Take me with you,” you plead, your eyelids fluttering close as you try and remember the feeling of him, memorizing it in case this is the last time. “Please.”

“Can’t do that, sweetheart.” Kento jerks back into you, forcing your cheek further against the wall. His hand is stiff against your head, even though he strokes your hair gently, encouraging. “I’m supposed to kill you, remember? I’m supposed to rid the world of every last sorcerer.”

“I need you, Kento,” you cry, feeling close to another orgasm already. Tears are running down your cheeks, your lips wet with spit as your mouth parts. “Just like it was before. I love you; I love you so much, I’ll be so good, I’ll—”

Kento groans your name and cums inside you, thick ropes painting your insides. It’s too much, everything about this is too much, and you’re squeezing him again, painfully sensitive as you orgasm once more.

Nonsense spews from your lips, and you grab at him in desperation as he finally drags out of you, the absence of him shattering you completely. Your inner thighs are sticky and wet, and his cum drips down your thighs, leaving you nothing more than a cold, ruined mess.

Kento shushes, soothes you with sounds that are closer to taunts as you spin around, grab at him, claw at his wrinkled red shirt. There’s still blood on his face, but even then, you accept him; you’ll forgive him for every wrongdoing he’s committed if he lets himself love you once more.

“I want to go with you,” you say, and though his face is hard, he’s caressing your cheek with an opposite sort of touch, sadness in his weary eyes.

“I know you do,” he says, and there’s a conflict within him as his features contort. It’s the only evidence that maybe, deep down, he cares about you still. “But I’m not the man you want. Not anymore.” It’s a whisper, a prayer, and goodbye.

You nearly slap him as he straightens, inches away from you. You feel that you’ve been pushed into a pit of inky chaos, left soaked and naked from the way down, humiliated. Your cheek is red from where it was pressed into the textured paint, stinging from the pressure.

“Kento, please,” you beg, and he takes a step back, hardening his eyes. “You can’t leave me again. I’d rather die. I’d rather you kill me.”

You’re not sure which of the statements snaps him back into himself once more.

Kento blinks, then lets a cold smile filter onto his face, one that lingers darkly on every corner of his expression. A smear of blood remains on his sharp cheekbone, and he wipes it clear, grazing his eyes along your body in a way that makes you feel so small. You’re nothing to him, then; even though you had been once.

“Oh, I decided I won’t kill you this time,” he says, pushing his hair back into place as his spine goes rigid, straightening like a marionette string. “I want to make sure I have a pretty girl to come back to every now and again.”

“What?” It leaves you forcefully, and you’re choking in shame, because you hope the words are true. You can’t stand a life without Nanami Kento, even if that life is nothing more than seeing him in the cracks of moonlight, the shadows where no one knows he’s lurking. You’d take that before a lonely existence, void of the sweet lips of the devil that you pray to.

“I’ll leave Tokyo,” you shout, red-faced and teary eyed, your words nothing more than empty threats. “I’ll leave the country. You’ll never find me.”

Nanami grins, laughs at you coolly, a sound that chills you to the core. “Oh, I’d find you.”

You don’t have time to formulate a response. A breath forces its way out of you, but the wretched curse reveals itself from the corner of the room, stopping any words from escaping your lips. His eyes hungrily roam every inch of you, lingering on the lower half of your exposed body; you wonder how long he’s been there, watching, not saying a word.

“Are you done yet?” Mahito asks, dragging his lurid gaze away to face Nanami. “You’ve had your fun, let’s kill her now.”

Nanami’s eyes flash. “Leave her,” he says, scoffing. “She’s already as pathetic as it gets. Killing her won’t make a difference.” He spits the words coldly, and turns, following the curse out of the room

tags: @hannzai @cha0thicpisces @kissesmellow21 @sukiischaotic @hinata7346 @annoyingpainterprincess

I GOT SO NERVOUS TO POST THIS ONE SHDHFHS

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When MC Needs Surgery

Featuring: The Demon Brothers, the Dateables (most briefly/vaguely mentioned) + gn!Reader

Content/Warnings: Mentions of unspecified health problems, surgical procedures and medical devices. Relationships with the cast are intended to be platonic but may be interpreted as romantic in nature (friendship was the focus here rather than romance). Word count: 3.2k.

A/N: This is dedicated to surgery!anon who requested something for their upcoming surgery. Based on the vague details mentioned to me, I assumed there might be some overlap with my own experiences which is what this is loosely based on. I guess I wrote what I would've liked to have read before my own procedures. I hope this provides some comfort to you as well.

PRE-OP

Some of the demons might wonder why they can't just find some spell to fix what's wrong with you, because how tricky can human anatomy really be? But after Satan does some research and helps you explain to the others (in easy to understand terms while being sensitive of the private details you might not want to share), they realize that perhaps your medical care is best left to the professionals after all.

Lucifer, Diavolo and Barbatos handle the logistics of your care before and after your surgery. Details from your appointments with your medical team help them get a better idea of how long your recovery will be and where you should stay once you leave the human world hospital.

There is some disagreement about whether you should stay at the House of Lamentation or the Demon Lord's Castle. There are pros and cons about staying at the House of Lamentation.

Pros: all of the demon brothers are there to help you when you need assistance.

Cons: all of the demon brothers are there.

One of the concerns – and it's a reasonable one, if you ask anyone but the brothers themselves – is that they might be too demanding of your company in your condition or inconsiderate of your privacy, and possibly neglectful of your need to rest comfortably and quietly.

As the other alternative available to you, the Demon Lord's Castle has spacious rooms so that you'll be able to have everything you need. Your friends are welcome to come and go within reason, but their visitations will be limited to prevent you from being overwhelmed. Ultimately, the choice is left to you.

When you start attending your pre-op appointments, Lucifer goes with you if you don't ask one of the others to go in his place. He's one of the best choices despite his unfamiliarity with the medical ordeal you're about to go through. He quickly picks up on the details of your procedure and the types of support you'll need during your hospital stay and once you're discharged. He helps you prepare a list of questions and concerns for each appointment; the doctors and nurses can't brush your questions aside easily, not when Lucifer is there to ensure that the answers you're given meet his satisfaction.

Later on, Lucifer provides updates to his siblings and your other friends who are keeping tabs on these developments. It's best that they're all aware of what to expect and so that they can help you prepare for what's to come.

In the days leading up to your surgery, everyone does their best to ease your nerves but do a poor job of hiding their own anxieties. It doesn't really register as a real thing that's about to happen until you get notification that your surgery is only a couple days away, and suddenly it feels very, very real.

Lucifer prepares for your long-term absence from RAD and makes sure that any of your obligations – your clubs or student council duties or your part-time job – are dealt with. He buys anything and everything the doctors recommended for your recovery once you return home. If any modifications are required for your bedroom or private bathroom, he plans to have those completed during your hospital stay. (He's grateful your room is already on the first floor of the house, although he would've built one for you if he needed to.)

Mammon and Levi spend as much time with you as they can when they're not busy with other things they try to keep secret: Mammon's new job so he has extra money to buy you get-well presents (bigger and better than all his brothers) and the games and movies Levi has been ordering since he anticipates your recovery will be boring. What better way than to pass the time (hopefully with him?). Satan wanted to go to your appointments with you but he kept grumbling things like, if someone cuts you open, I'm going to cut them open. He's been focusing his efforts on researching which sorts of potions, elixirs or spells might help you recover faster and obtaining the materials he needs for them.

Asmo took you shopping (more than once) to pick up the items on your pre-op checklist of things to bring with you to the hospital: comfortable loose-fitting clothing, slippers, basic toiletries like your toothbrush. Everything he picked for you wouldn't fit in three overnight bags, let alone the single duffel bag you planned to take with you. He just put everything in your dresser and closet and insisted they'd be useful once you were discharged and allowed to come back home.

Beel was curious about your diet recommendations when you come home and he realized that the spicy Devildom foods you like are probably going to be too difficult for you to eat for the foreseeable future . He spoke to Lucifer and Barbatos about his concerns, and they plan to stock the fridge and pantry with all the recommended foods that would ease your recovery and reduce the risk of complications later. Beel took you out for dinner one evening, as a sort of last hurrah. He felt guilty that he didn't realize how serious this was and he admires you for being so brave about something he can't imagine going through himself. He offered to follow your post-surgery diet with you as a show of support because he doesn't want to be insensitive and eat all the delicious foods you won't be able to.

Belphie gets a bit irritated that his brothers take up so much of your time leading up to your surgery date. If you've been feeling tired or unwell leading up to your surgery, you put on a brave face for their sakes but he knows better. He can't take away your pain or discomfort, and he certainly can't fix you the way these human world doctors claim they can, but he can help you relax after a long day of appointments and preparations and pretending you're not as nervous as they all are. He can sense your anxiety rising as the date of your surgery draws near: you're not sleeping as well as you used to, tossing and turning into the late hours of the night and showing up to breakfast looking worse than you did the morning before. Fortunately, that's something he can help you with. He leads you to the attic to sleep and tries not dwell on how long it'll be before after your surgery when you'll be able to climb those steps again. He lulls you into a comfortable, dreamless sleep so that you can as much rest as possible leading up to the big day.

The evening before your surgery, the brothers are practically vibrating from nervousness. Everyone seems on edge and distracted. Asmo ruins his eye makeup from getting teary-eyed and he's especially clingy. Dinner is awkward when the brothers remember that you can't eat your regular diet anymore. You're limited to bland fluids in addition to the jug of prep you need to drink. You drink the powder mixed with ice-cold water and gulp it down – after the first pouch, you disappear into your bedroom. Eventually you come back and rinse and repeat, drinking and refilling that jug until its as empty as you are. (Beel was curious and drank a bit of it despite your warning that he probably shouldn't – his stomach made the strangest sounds the rest of the evening.)

When it's time for bed, you expect to collapse onto your mattress and toss and turn until your early-morning alarm goes off. What you don't expect is for Lucifer and his brothers to lead to you his room with the giant bed that happens to be big enough for all of them. The mood feels somber and you can tell they're as nervous as you are – even Cerberus spends the night in Lucifer's room, lifting his heads up once in a while to check on you while he keeps guard at the foot of the bed. It's the Devildom's most awkward cuddle pile, but eventually you fall asleep surrounded by seven very worried demons who can't manage to sleep themselves.

THE HOSPITAL

Your alarm goes off early that morning – far too early for your liking, but you're eager to get this entire thing over with. Most of the brothers are already awake and finalizing preparations to accompany you to the hospital. You have time for a quick shower and toss on a comfortable shirt, sweatpants and slip-on shoes – you don't need to look good where you're going, and you won't be wearing these clothes for very long.

The others arrive so Barbatos can summon a portal for everyone to take. Despite your many reminders, everyone insists they want to come and support you, including your friends from Purgatory Hall and Diavolo himself.

(What you suspect but don't know for certain is that Diavolo arranged for your care in the human world hospital you'll be staying at. There were concerns about visitor limits and securing the largest and best private room for your recovery, but a generous donation from the Hotel Corvo corporation helped ease some of those administrative hurdles.)

You're only allowed one support person to accompany you to the surgical unit, so the others grab coffee and pre-packaged muffins and slowly make their way down to the waiting area. Lucifer – or whoever you asked to accompany you instead – sits with you while you wait for your name to be called.

Time passes in a blur. You put on a starchy hospital gown and housecoat while you tuck your belongings into a plastic bag and carry it with you. The nurses direct you to a chair and go over the standard medical questions you've answered a million times before. You look away when the IV goes in, and on the other side of you, warm fingers squeeze your hand.

You're tired and nervous and there are too many thoughts racing through your mind, but you sit in silence while the clock ticks down. You shuffle awkwardly down a sterile hall with too-bright lights when it's finally time, and you hope the smile you shoot over your shoulder at your companion is convincing. (It's as unsteady as you both feel when you disappear with the nurse who leads you to the operating room.)

Maybe it's the exhaustion or the empty, upset stomach distracting you while you sit on a table and ignore the cool fingers and pinching sensation in your back while they prepare the epidural because you barely feel it. You lay on a narrow table with a blood pressure cuff on one arm and your IV in another, and when the medications quickly pull you into a dreamless sleep, you feel a last-minute sense of comfort knowing that your friends are waiting close by and they won't let anything bad happen to you.

While you're in the OR, your friends make themselves comfortable in the visitor's lounge and they wait for news. Four hours, six hours, eight hours later – none of them want to leave until they can see you're alive and well with their own eyes. You warned them all it would be a long and boring day and they insisted they wanted to come no matter what.

Some of them fidget in their seats and pace when their nerves get the best of them. Levi's handheld beeps and the buttons click noisily as he plays his game, and Satan tries to focus on a paperback he picked up in the gift shop. Mammon spends way too much money buying Nevada tickets from a vendor in the hospital lobby (“It's for charity, ain't it?!”) and rubs it in Lucifer's face when he actually wins something. Asmo frets with embarrassment when he sees the SCENT-RESTRICTED FACILITY poster on the wall and covers the scent of his expensive fragrance with a dampening charm to avoid upsetting the staff (and makes note to skip the heavily-scented body products for future visits). Belphie accompanies Beel to sample the cafeteria's food, multiple times.

Throughout the day, small groups take turns leaving the waiting room to grab fresh cups of coffee or sandwiches to snack on. Diavolo and Barbatos confirm with the hospital staff that your private room is ready with the special amenities they requested for you, including a cot that an overnight guest can sleep on. You chose your preferred companion in advance, and none of the others dared voice their petty disappointment that they weren't chosen instead. What matters most is that one of them is with you at all times to assist you in your weakened state (they called it protecting you, but you tried to reassure them without success that they were being too dramatic). The others are free to visit as much as they like, as long as you're comfortable with it of course.

It feels like eternity before news reaches your friends as your surgery ends, and then another update a couple hours later when you're moved from PACU to your hospital room. The nurses have already gotten you settled into your accommodations by the time the first visitors hesitantly step inside to see you. Despite the preparations and expectations and warnings, they're still not prepared for the machine humming and beeping at your side as it pumps various medications through your IV. There's a remote looped around the bed by your arm that lets you administer more pain medication through your epidural.

It's gotten late and the surgical ward is quiet except for the ambient sounds of nurses chatting quietly at their station or other machines beeping in nearby rooms. Against the standard-issue hospital linens and the thin gown you wear, you look more vulnerable than they've ever seen you, their perfectly imperfect human who’s gone through so much in such a short amount of time. Perhaps it's a good thing that you're overcome with exhaustion and only have fleeting memories of your friends' worried faces when they each came to see you before bidding you goodnight with a promise to come back in the morning. Some struggle to contain their emotions more than others, and there's a collective understanding between all of them that perhaps they've taken you for granted because they never want to see you like this again – not if they can prevent it.

Your nighttime companion sits at your bedside most of the night and watches over you in case you show signs of discomfort or pain. They pull the cord to alert the nurses when you wake up queasy and you request something for your upset stomach with your scratchy voice and dry throat. You can't eat or drink yet, but the nurse leaves a small plastic cup of ice chips at your bedside – it's enough to remove the cottony feeling from your tongue and throat, and you can sleep once more.

Your demon friends aren't familiar with modern medicine and none of them know what the bags of fluids hanging next to your bed are. RINGERS scrolls across the screen of the IV pump but it’s anyone’s guess what it means. All they know is that it seems to be important as it’s one of the last medications you stop taking before your IV is eventually removed. Tonight and throughout the days that will soon follow, the machine beeps loudly – and often – when the bag runs dry. They remember which button to hit to turn off the awful alarm so that the disturbance doesn't wake you while they wait for a nurse to come with a replacement.

RECOVERY

The first few days are some of the most challenging, but all of your friends are there to support you as much as they can. At least one of them is present when the surgeon and his residents make their early morning rounds. You can't bear to look at the staples and incisions hidden under the thick dressings that cover a large part of your lower belly, but the surgeon and nurses all claim that things look fantastic. You can't help but snort at the odd feedback, and Asmo reminds you that there's plenty of creams that can help with minimizing those scars later, if you want them. (He prefers you exactly the way you are, scars and all, but he keeps his opinion on that subject to himself.)

Your post-surgery diet is severely restricted until you're able to tolerate basic fluids again, and solid foods are introduced slowly too. Beel reads over your daily menu selection and glares at the abysmal tray of hospital food that is delivered to your room. He tastes some of the dishes and wonders how they can make something as simple as broth or cream of wheat so unappealing. Barbatos sips the lukewarm mug of tea on your tray that you ignore with each meal; you warn him that it's not good, and the pain in your stomach is worth it when you shake with laughter at the offended grimace that sours his expression. He promises to bring you drinkable tea from now on, and he and Beel both bring acceptable alternatives to your hospital fare in accordance with your current meal plan.

One of the most challenging things you didn't expect – and it catches your friends off-guard too – is how difficult it is to get up and walking again. After a few days in bed with the epidural numbing you to the worst of the pain and being mostly stationary aside from some breathing exercises, it's time to get up and take the literal first step towards your journey home.

Your friends scoff at the idea of a physiotherapist coming to help you, until they hear the first cry of pain when you sit up on the edge of the bed and breathe heavily like it's the most ardious feat you've ever accomplished. It's another reminder that this was a tremendous thing for your delicate human body to go through, and even though they can't just take away your pain or fix things magically (no matter how much some of them might want to), they'll do what they can to help.

They don't tease you when they slip your shoes onto your feet, and they don't stare or ask about the various bags of fluids hanging from the IV pole you lean on for support while you shuffle your way around the ward one lap at a time. They match your pace and are ready in a moment's notice to support you if you lose your balance, and as soon as they sense you're pushing yourself just a little too hard, they help you back into bed where you fall asleep not long after.

Things carry on that way until the surgeon announces tentative plans for your release. By now, you're bored out of your mind and eager to be anywhere but in that bloody hospital room. Your friends are eager to have you home again, and the air is charged with excitement for the first time since your surgery. Everything you need for your recovery at the House of Lamentation – medications and supplies and your diet plan and anything else you could possibly need – are ready for you.

On the day you're finally discharged, they help scan your room to make sure all of your personal items have been packed away for the trip home. One of them carries your duffel bag for you while a couple others carry boxes filled with the numerous gifts, cards, and vases of flowers that filled nearly every available space of your room. (The human world flowers have started to wilt, but the arrangements from the Devildom and the Celestial Realm, including the bouquet you received one day with a note signed only with “M”, are still blooming flawlessly as ever.)

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kurogane2512 · 5 months

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I can treat you better

A little concept I wanted to try for a while, I see this done with male characters a lot and I wanted to experiment on my waifus.

Game: Genshin Impact

Characters: CEO!Ningguang, Teacher!Lisa, Milf!La Signora (referred as Rosalyne) x fem!reader

Type: Fluff hcs and drabble, Modern AU

Contains: Broken marriages, infidelity (not with reader), comforting, teacher-student relationship (Lisa), age-gap (Lisa and Signora)

Marriage is supposed to be the ultimate union between lovers, a symbol of togetherness and eternal love. However, not every marriage ends as well as it began. Love shouldn't fade away but sometimes it does, or perhaps it never existed in the first place and was just a matter of convenience.....

CEO!Ningguang who owns the most successful business in the country that she started by her own efforts. A meticulous and hard-working woman who has lines of suitors but everyone knows she's already given her heart to her husband, a simple man she met in college and fell in love with. He promised to support her in her business venture and always stuck right by her side the more she built her empire.

Ningguang is highly successful in life, she has money and a loving partner- what more could one ask for? You are her secretary, her right-hand woman, who has assissted her since the beginning. The first and only secretary she has had because you are perfect for the job. You have had a crush on her for the longest time, but you knew how happy she is with her husband so you simply continue supporting her from the sidelines.

However, her marriage started becoming rocky recently. Ningguang spent too much time at work, doing overtime almost every day for the last 6 months and rarely spending time with her partner. Ningguang never stopped climbing the success ladder, she wanted more and she was determined to work for it. Her husband, on the other hand, became a stay-at-home husband because.... why does he need to work when his wife is the richest woman in the world?

Ningguang became more stressed as days passed, she was making deals with all these demanding companies all the while trying to keep her marriage at bay. Many times, you heard her arguing with him on the phone, his voice would be so loud that you could clearly make out the curses and accusations he threw at her. It frustrated you. How dare he say all that to her? How dare he think of her this way?

Ningguang was working hard for her future with him, she was not greedy for money. She wanted to give him and her eventual children the best life she could, all of this hard work was for him. Yet, he seemed to have never realized that. The more days Ningguang spent cooped in her office, the more apart she became with him. Until the day you heard her crying for the first time in your life....

"Ms Ningguang, the documents you want—" you stepped inside Ningguang's office but stopped mid-sentence as you heard her sniffle. She was seated on her table, holding her head in frustration and looking at something on her phone.

"Ms Ningguang, are you okay? What happened?" You were genuinely worried, the woman you loved was crying and you wanted to do something. Ningguang quickly wiped away her tears and switched off her phone screen before standing up and looking at you firmly, "Ah, Y/n, thank you. I had been looking for these for a while."

She avoided your question. You knew something was seriously wrong now. You wanted to ask more but decided to not pester her and continued with the work you had brought in, she came into her 'work mode' almost immediately. She always impressed you so much. The two of you finished the work for the day then you invited her to a diner for a simple meal, hoping to lighten her mood. You had a hearty meal together and drank a few glasses of alcohol to unwind, she became a bit tipsy and leaned on the bar table while you prepared to leave the place and escort her home.

"Earlier.... my apologies for avoiding your question." Ningguang suddenly spoke causing you to stop your actions and listen to her.

"N-No, ma'am, it's okay. You are not obliged to tell me everything...."

She sighed then took out her phone and scrolled to a particular photo then showed you the screen, your eyes immediately widening in shock.

"Is this.... your husband? And that woman...." Yes, it was a photo of her husband with another woman, and they looked very intimate like a couple. It could be brushed off as friends but the position was.... too intimate for friends, the woman was all over him and he was very much into her as well. Now, you realized why Ningguang was potentially crying at that time. You stayed silent and looked at Ningguang with sympathy while she simply let out a bitter chuckle.

"What do you think? They are just friends? That's what I want to believe as well but I have never seen her around him before, we know each other's friend groups well enough. Either she's a new addition during the time I have been away or...."

She trailed off and you noticed tears forming in her eyes. You felt infuriated. She did not deserve this at all.

"....I suggest you should talk to him and clear up things, having doubts and misinterpretating can lead to unnecessary conflicts between you two. You should take some time off from work, I'll handle everything for you, ma'am."

Ningguang pinched her temple and pondered for a moment before nodding, "I know, you are right. But hypothetically speaking, if this is what I think this is then.... what should I do? I....I don't know how to face him."

"You shouldn't think of that possibility, ma'am. He loves you, doesn't he? You should trust that and talk to him openly. I....don't think he would do this to you; you are amazing and so beautiful, it could just be a misunderstanding."

You wanted to comfort her and give her some hope but deep down, you weren't so sure yourself. The picture was too obvious to be misunderstood, but you didn't want to see Ningguang upset. She finally smiled a little and nodded then you helped her stand up and escorted her to her car. She was more drunk now and leaned on your shoulder, wrapping her arms around your body and snuggling into your neck.

"....It's my fault, isn't it? It's all because of how neglectful I have been, I have barely spent any time with him. Everyone says I'm married to my work now, he waits for me every day and I come home late then leave early morning without talking to him at all. This was bound to happen, it's all my fault..."

She was rambling, blaming herself for everything. You hated seeing her this way, you knew how much she loved him. "But...But I have been holding back so much as well. I also have needs! We haven't touched each other in so long....and he goes and finds someone else."

CEO!Ningguang who later talks to her husband and finds out it was a misunderstanding, the woman really was a new friend he made. The smile on her face returned and she became more relaxed, there was no greater joy for you than to see her being happy again. She thanked you for your advice and started having a better work-life balance.

You supported Ningguang even more and sent her home early so she could spend time with him; although, you never stopped doubting him because that photo was way too suspicious and you felt he was lying just to take advantage of her and her money. You became a comfort person for Ningguang, a shoulder to cry on whenever she needed it. She shared with you her personal things and regularly asked for suggestions for her love life.

You thought all things were going well until one day when you came across another photo of him with that same woman from before. Once again, Ningguang was sobbing in her office that night while holding you close and rambling. She revealed that she had planned to talk about having children with him soon and also booked a vacation to spend time together but now she could no longer go about it.

You couldn't see her this way. You comforted her and slowly told her that she should reconsider her marriage. He was cheating on her and using her money. You didn't know if his love was ever real, but you were bound to believe it wasn't. It infuriated you to see such an amazing woman like Ningguang go through this, you wanted to be there for her and help her as much as possible.

She eventually divorced and cut all connections with him and his family, even buying a separate house for herself and sending him far away. You could see her true self returning, she felt liberal and free after all this time. And she wasn't blind to ignore all the help you gave her; spending late nights in her stead to complete her work so she could enjoy.... why were you so supportive of her? She started seeing you differently and wondered if there was more to you.

"You are an idiot, Y/n." Ningguang overheard you talking with a colleague one day during your coffee break and she hid around the corner and listened in.

"Who in their right mind helps patch up the marriage of the woman she loves?! If it was me, I would have used that to come between them and taken her!" your colleague spoke with a chuckle, Ningguang's eyes widening at the statement. You loved her? You did all that.... all the while being in love with her? The time you spent advising her and helping her be with her husband.... you loved her all that time?

"Don't be ridiculous! She.... she loved him and I just wanted to see her happy, even if not with me. Besides, I'm not in her league at all. I'm fine with how things are and now that she's no longer bound to him, she can be herself and do what makes her happy."

Ningguang's heart skipped a beat, you did so much for her just to see her happy.... even her ex-husband never did that. It was always her being the giver in the relationship and she barely received anything in return from him, now she realized the true meaning of love. She realized how blind she had been, there was someone doing everything for her just the way she had been doing for him.

CEO!Ningguang who starts falling for you, seeing you as more than just a secretary or friend. She tries to be around you more, makes you accompany her to more places than before. She invites you to her house under the guise of working, just to spend more time with you because your presence is so comforting to her. She is still recovering from her broken marriage, but with you she feels loved.

She plans to confess in the near future if you don't, and till then tries to understand you better as a person. She realizes how much she has always liked you but was too blinded to see it. But what she didn't see coming was when you handed in your resignation notice one faithful day....

"Resignation? Why all of a sudden? Is the salary not up to your requirements? Is there too much work pressure? I don't see how there isn't any room for negotiation if you find something unsatisfactory here, Y/n." Ningguang was perplexed, almost on the verge of breaking down. Why were you doing this? Were you really going to bury your feelings and leave?

"No ma'am, none of that. Everything is good here; the salary and work environment, I like everything and I don't mind the work pressure either because it's very rewarding."

"Then why? I believe I deserve to hear a proper reason for this. You are one of my oldest and best employees, have you been offered a better deal somewhere else?"

Ningguang attempted to negotiate with you to make you stay; aside from how used to she was to you and your working style, she truly didn't want you to leave.

"....Are you really going to leave just like this? Without even telling me your true feelings?!" Ningguang's voice raised as she paced around the table and stood in front of you, looking at you firmly. You were confused as to what she meant, but she soon answered your doubts.

"This is how your love is, Y/n?! You'll run away without speaking a word?! You also want to leave me?!"

Your eyes widened, how did she know? And why was she being this way? You were about to say something but Ningguang grabbed your collar and pulled you into a passionate kiss, her lips kissed yours feverishly as if she wanted to own you and keep you here forever.

"Don't you dare leave me.... Is that clear?" Ningguang whispered against your lips as she pulled away from the kiss, leaving you breathless and astonished. You had no idea when she found out about your feelings but now that the cat was out of the bag, you didn't want to hold back either.

"Yes, I'm sorry. I....I love you very much, Ms Ningguang. I want to be with you and I promise to treat you well, I want to keep you happy forever."

Teacher!Lisa who is the sweetest and most beloved teacher at your university. Currently in your first year, she teaches you chemistry and let's just say the entire university has a crush on her to some extent, teachers and students alike. A kind, hardworking and sincere woman who has been teaching for 6-7 years now and has never had a complaint against her. But to everyone's vain, she's happily married for 5 years to a man arranged by her parents.

Lisa loves teaching and interacting with her students, she's always ready to put in the extra effort for struggling students and very patiently deals with problematic cases. She's usually soft spoken and pleasant to be around, but anger her and she can be quite strict and terrifying as well even if it's extremely rare to see her that way. As her student, you don't miss any of her classes due to how much you love to attend them.

Lisa eventually became your class tutor and you showed utmost enthusiasm to be the class representative in order to help her, but truthfully you just wanted to be with her more. Your classmates called you a teacher's pet but you didn't care, you genuinely wanted to help Ms Lisa and care for her just like she cares for you. You eventually grow close with her as you spend time outside of classes, doing some work or the other and chatting along.

Lisa rarely talked about her family which wasn't surprising as you were just a student, but you discovered that even with her colleagues she rarely ever shared anything and seemed to dislike the topic altogether. Everyone assumed her marriage was good considering how sweet and lovable she was, she'd make a perfect wife. But little does everyone know her dark reality....

"Ah, Y/n. Do you mind opening the window? It's gotten really warm these days...." Ms Lisa sighed and fanned her face as sweat trickled down her forehead, the two of you were sitting in the staff room during afternoon. She had called you to do some work and you agreed as it was your free lecture; coincidentally, the staff room was also empty right now as other teachers had gone for classes.

You nodded to her and stood up to slide open the nearby window and let the cool breeze flow in. You then turned around to walk back to your place when you saw Ms Lisa remove her coat and pull up her sleeves which caused you to glace at a peculiar cut on her wrist.

"Ma'am, did you get hurt?" you came closer and asked in a concerned tone. She realized where you were pointing and quickly slid her sleeve back down to hide the scar before letting out a forced smile.

"Oh, it's nothing. I accidentally brushed my hair straightener there."

"....I see, please take care of yourself."

You weren't easily convinced that's all it was but you were unable to know more. You worried about her, you hoped everything was fine.

Teacher!Lisa who actually has a toxic good-for-nothing husband living off her hard-earned money. A regular drunkard who lost his job after their marriage, she was forced to marry him because he used to be well off but in reality, he was doing illegal work that eventually got him caught and put on house arrest. She is the sole breadwinner of their household and struggles every day to make ends meet.

Lisa never let anyone know the truth about her marriage, not even her parents. She knew they wanted the best for her when they made her marry him and he did appear to be nice back then. She regularly argues with him and looks after him when she comes home, all the while managing work from the university and her basic duties.

Lisa's husband recently became violent and started hitting her during their arguments. She was coming to her breaking point but she couldn't leave him; after all, she fell in love with him after their marriage. He was handsome and gentlemanly in the beginning; despite being an arranged marriage, they got along and liked each other. She hated seeing him in this state and promised to keep supporting him even when nobody else does.

But everyone has a breaking point, and Lisa was nearing hers too. She hated having to tolerate such treatment every day, she wanted to be a good teacher and be with her students who bring her joy without having to worry about going back to a dreadful home. Then one day, her husband crossed even more borders. Now she had to live with him cheating on her as well? How could she walk into her house just to find another woman in bed with her good-for-nothing husband?

Lisa had no words and packed up her essentials then left, she did not need any explanations or excuses. How could he do that? What did she not do for him? And how is she lacking in appearance or sex drive that he'd go for some random woman? She gave him everything and he never recognized it, she had enough. She found herself at a bus stop, eyes filled with tears and no idea of what to do. That's when a miracle happened.

"Ms Lisa?! What are you doing here at this hour?!" your voice called out to her from behind, and she turned around to see you walk up to her with an excited look.

"I'm just...." she trailed off and your eyes fell on the bag she was carrying, tear stains on her face.

"What happened? Are you okay?" you asked softly and stepped closer, gently caressing her arm.

"...What about you, Y/n? Why are you out so late?" she averted your question.

"O-Oh, I'm just returning from my part-time work. My flat is nearby, would you like to come?"

"Do you live with anyone else?"

"No, it's an independent flat. I.... didn't really want a roommate."

Lisa ponders for a while and eventually agrees to come with you. A humble abode perfect for a single person, she found a strange sense of calmness and comfort in your apartment. You offered her some beverage and you found out she hadn't eaten anything since afternoon, feeling appalled and immediately went to cook for her. She trusted you, she wanted to be away from her life for now.

"Uh, sorry, I don't have too many ingredients right now. I was going to go shopping this weekend, I hope you don't mind pasta...."

Lisa looked at the plate you put in front of her, a small smile appearing on her face. "Pasta is my favorite dish, actually. But it's been a long time since I had it, thank you."

You smiled back, you knew something was up. The cheerful Ms Lisa was strangely quiet, seemingly holding back a lot of her emotions. Eventually, she finally opened up to you and told you everything about her husband- from the abuse to cheating. You were terrified hearing the horrors she faced, yet presented herself to be happy at the university, nobody could guess she faced all of that every day.

You offered her to stay at your place for as long as she wants, and that she should report him to police and talk to her parents. A divorce was the obvious couse of action, but you were in no place to advice that to her. You only hoped to comfort her and provide her a home until this passed. That night, you laid in bed together and Ms Lisa held you as she cried out, eventually falling asleep in your arms. If only she knew how much you loved her, right from the first day you saw her....

Teacher!Lisa who talks to her parents the next day and tells them everything. They feel devastated hearing what their daughter went through, and they assist her in a successful divorce where she gets maintenance claims and a secret property he had. It was a messy court case given the illegal work of the husband, but she triumphed and obtained her justice.

The case went on for a few months and Ms Lisa lived with you all this time. She helped you in your studies and enabled you to become the topper in her class, though she never used any unfair means to help you. It was sometimes hard to hide the fact that you were living together, but you both made it work. Ms Lisa wasn't open for a new relationship yet, It was true she really loved him and it was hard to move on despite all the terrible things he did.

Ms Lisa and you grow closer than ever during the time she lives with you. You act like a happily married couple more than she ever did with her ex-husband. She said she'll do all household chores to pay you for allowing her to live there, though you really didn't mind either way. You cook together, watch movies, laugh and share past memories, study, have shopping dates and what not.

Lisa did not know it yet but she was deeply in love with you, she had forgotten how it felt to be treated with love and given importance. She wondered about your love life now, if you have someone you like or wish to date. You tell her you want to focus on studies and career, but there is indeed someone you like. She becomes curious, even slightly jealous realizing the gap between you and her.

One night, you were out until late drinking with some friends. You returned home in a drunk state and Lisa was ready to tend to you. While she was surprised you had this side to herself, she was more pleased to know more about you and wanted to care for you. She was already an expert in tending to drunkards, and you were unironically so adorable acting as one.

"Ms Lisaaaa~ You are so beautiful, you know thatttt?~" you slurred as she carried you to the bed, chuckling along the way.

"You teach... so welllll.... and you are so sweettttt~"

"Yes yes, I know. You have said that even as sober~" she whispered, laying you down then going to fetch some water for you. You curled up in your pillow and when she came back, you looked so cute to her.

"I love you... Ms Lisa... I love you so much...." you slurred in a drunken state, catching her by surprise.

She smiles and gives you the water then you immediately pass out while hugging her, your head laying on her soft bosom. Lisa caresses your head and kisses your forehead in return, "Say that when you are sober, I'll give you an answer you'll like~"

It was last day of your second year, you still had 2 more years to spend at the university. You wanted to wait till graduation but couldn't anymore, you wanted to confess. And it seems, Ms Lisa was having similar thoughts. Only you both knew how much you held back when you lived under the same roof. You find her in am empty classroom waiting for you.

"I love you, Ms Lisa. I have loved you since last year, and I want to date you. But um... I understand if you don't want to, so please don't feel forced to give me—"

Your words were blocked as Lisa pulled you close and connected her lips with you in a passionate and loving kiss. Her arms wrapped around your neck as she pushed you to the wall and continued kissing, her tongue already slipping in and dancing with yours.

"Took you long enough to say that, Y/n~"

"You... knew? Since when?"

"Hehe, that's my secret~" she winked at you then jumped in for another kiss, completely devouring you this time. She knew you would treat her well, she felt at home with you and she was confident she would love you forever now.

Milf!Rosalyne, a 31-year-old who is your new neighbor. She recently moved to the apartment in front with her husband and 4-year-old son. You were 16 when the family moved in, you welcomed them along with your mother and acted as good neighbors. Rosalyne was a pleasant housewife while her husband worked in the military hence often leaving her and their son home alone.

Rosalyne used to take home tuitions and manage the entire household by herself, you eventually ended up visiting her to help around and just give her company. She was lovely and overall amazing to talk to, you discovered she did the same course you were planning to do and took some advice from her.

You often had dinner at her place on the days her husband was home. You would play with her son and secretly observe how lovey-dovey they were, it was clear they deeply loved each other and nothing could come in between. You used to watch them giggle in the kitchen, cuddle on the sofa and share small kisses throughout the day.

Rosalyne often commented how you were like a helpful big sister for her son as you helped him in studies and played together, which meant she likely saw you as a child which wasn't surprising. She found you mature for your age and admitted liking your company and it was a bonus that her son did too. She was a great mother, extremely loving and supportive.

However, you moved away to another city at 18 for studies for 4 years. Now you have returned as you found a job in your hometown and decided to live in your parent's apartment as they moved out. You harbored a crush on Rosalyne back when you regularly met her, you couldn't help but feel jealous of her husband.

You reminisced your memories of your home as you climbed the steps to your apartment. 4 years passsed yet much didn't change about the place, and you were having a sense of deja-vu. The first thing you noticed was your neighbor's door, hoping the nameplate was still the name you remembered and, it indeed was. You felt happy as well as nervous meeting her again; how was she now? would she have changed in all this time?

Once you settled your things in your apartment, you decided to finally visit the woman you have had a crush on for years. You thought being away for 4 years would make you let go of these feelings, but you never stopped thinking about her. You didn't know what she thought of you, but it was more than likely she would only see you as a friend at most.

You rang her doorbell and waited in anticipation until the door finally opened, and your breath was taken away. She looked as beautiful as the day you first saw her, it felt like you fell in love with her all over again. She scanned your figure from head-to-toe until her eyes widened as she realized who was standing in front.

"Y/n?! Oh my god, it's been so long!" Rosalyne chimed and lunged forward to hug you affectionately, hearing her call your name sent butterflies in your stomach and the hug made your heart skip a beat. You were glad to see she remembered you so fondly.

"It's been long indeed. How have you been, aunty?"

"Awh, stop that. Just call me by my name, I don't want to feel old~" Rosalyne giggled and lightly punched your shoulder before holding your wrist and pulling you inside her house. Her house mostly looked the same, but there was something strangely missing that you couldn't pinpoint. She made you sit on the sofa while she brought some water and snacks for you.

"How is Ray?" that was her son's name.

"Oh, he's been fine. He's at school right now, I'm sure he'd be delighted to see you again!~"

You chatted away as you caught up with each other, you told her you are back to living her as you found a job and she seemed really happy to have you around again.

"How's uncle been? Will he be coming back anytime soon?" you asked in a casual manner, but the answer was unexpected.

"Rostam.... passed away 3 years ago. He died on a field mission."

You didn't know what to say. You observed her looking down with a sad look and touch her wedding ring, likely reminiscing about him. You apologized for speaking that but she assured it was fine, your parents never mentioned that he died 3 years ago otherwise you wouldn't have asked. You felt deeply saddened for her and wondered how she was handling things on her own all this time.

You went back to your place with a happier remark, you offered to help her whenever she required and promised to be there for her. You later on met her son in the evening and had dinner at her place, it felt just like old times for you and you were glad she was still here and you could meet her.

Milf!Rosalyne who works multiple jobs a week to make ends meet. The military provides for the housing out of respect for her husband's service, but she has to look after everything else on her own. She takes tuitions on the weekend and works as a receptionist in a hotel during the week, also doing some additional online work whenever she can.

She had wished to find a job related to her degree but all those jobs require long working hours away from home and she couldn't do that, her son was her first priority. She was fortunate to have a pretty face and a model-like figure even at her age, but it was also a curse sometimes in this field of work.

You ended up meeting her at her place of work one day, you had come there for a meeting. You were shocked to discover she had to work this kind of job now, you really wished to help her. You tried asking your boss if there was an opening but they were not hiring, and Rosalyne also denied due to the unsuitable work hours but she appreciated your thought.

Rosalyne also faced problems in dating life now. To no surprise, not many people were willing to get together with a 37 year old single mother. Some expressed disgust without even bothering to know what happened to her husband, while some were unwilling to take on the responsibilty of a child so soon. She had not moved on from her husband but she was trying for her son's sake, to give him a father. But none of the people she met made it easy for her.

It was a Saturday evening and you were planning to stay home to rest. You had been working a lot ever since you moved here and hadn't got much time for yourself, you even weren't able to meet Rosalyne as much as you had hoped to. An unexpected ring of your doorbell called you to the front door and you find none other than Rosalyne standing with a soft smile on her face.

"Are you free by any chance today, Y/n?"

"Oh, sure I am. Do you need some help?"

"Well.... want to hangout together at my place? We can order some food and just watch some movie or show if you'd like."

Your eyes widened in surprise at her invitation, you were ready to accept right away but didn't want to appear too eager.

"Ah, that would be great. But what about Ray?"

"I sent him to my mother's place for the weekend. He had been wanting to visit for some time."

You suddenly became nervous realizing you'd be alone with her at her house. You accepted and made your way to her apartment, you offered to bring some food out of respect but she assured you it was fine and that you can order whatever you like. You ordered some pizza and snacks, while Rosalyne also bought out the wine she had and offered you a glass.

Now, here you were sitting on her couch with wine in hand and watching some random movie you both agreed upon. You had not talked much all this time, you mainly exchanged some work stories and vented frustrations. Rosalyne shared some things about her son that happened to him at school, she always appeared so happy to talk about him. She really was a great mother.

Some time passed and more wine later, she was clearly tipsy. She leaned on your shoulder and was in a soppy state now as she started venting about how hard things have been for her in finding a new partner, and the constant harrassment she faces at work yet nobody is ready for a serious relationship as soon as they hear about her son.

"Tell me, Y/n.... what am I lacking? There's all these men who flirt with me all day but the moment I set up dates and reveal the truth, they all leave.... How is it so wrong for a 37 year old single mother to find someone new?!"

She was babbling in a drunken state while holding you. There was absolutely nothing lacking in her, she was perfect in your eyes and you wouldn't even think twice about dating her, heck even marrying her. You wanted to be there for her not just as a friend but more. But you had no idea if she ever saw you that way, or if she even liked women in the first place and how her son would react to that.

"I never wanted this, Y/n.... what did I do wrong? Ray doesn't deserve this, I want to give him a complete family.... I want to have a complete family.... But Rostam... he betrayed me...."

You were caught by surprise, "Betray you? What do you mean, Rosalyne?"

"He.... he cheated on me, I found out he cheated on me years ago after Ray was born. He hid it all this time.... I discovered this at his funeral.... I don't know what to think, I can't even remember him the same way anymore.... How could he?! What did I do to deserve this....?"

She was crying while holding you now. You felt anger rise in you hearing this secret, it was quite unbelievable to you he did that when you recall how lovey-dovey they used to be and Rostam seemed like a good man. Your desire to support and love her increased even more now, you couldn't bear seeing her in this state. So much happened to her while you were away, you wished you were here.

"No! Nothing is wrong with you and you are not lacking anything! You are beautiful and strong! You are an amazing mother, Ray loves you very much! You have been so resilient all this time, I actually admire you so much for doing everything on your own. I.... Please know I'll help you! In any way! Please don't put yourself down this way, Rosa!"

You chanted before hugging her tightly, trying to convery how serious you were and really wanted her to be well. You pulled away to look at her and saw her face reddened up as she gazed at you with a needy look before placing her hands on your shoulders and leaning close.

"Any way? Then.... date me, Y/n." You were shocked beyond belief but the next thing she did was worse. She leaned in and softly kissed you, it was a gentle kiss at first then you felt her push you down and straddle you then kiss deeper. You knew this was wrong, she was clearly drunk and swept away by her emotions. But the feeling of her lips on yours made you entranced, you have wanted to kiss her for so long.

"Yes... you will be good. Ray likes you too... I can explain to him.... Be with me, Y/n, please?"

She pulled you closer by your collar and went in for another kiss, you didn't expect to make out with her this way. You felt she was being desperate by choosing you this way, you could tell she likely didn't love you and wanted you just for her son's sake as you are the only one who gave her attention and expressed willingness. Rosalyne passed out before you could answer her, and you almost felt relieved.

Rosalyne apologized to you the next day for all her actions, she genuinely felt guilty for all the things she said and did. It gave you enough indication that she really didn't like you romantically and that you stood no chance. You forgave her rather easily, you really couldn't complain experiencing that. She saw you as a good friend and you'd try to maintain that.

However, your feelings started overwhelming you and you tried to make some distance from her for some time to be able to move on and remain a friend. You ended up ghosting her texts and calls, and also rejecting all her invites to spend time together by making up some excuse for work.

Rosalyne felt you were avoiding due to that day, and she hated that so much. You were the only one she had, she didn't realize when she started liking you romantically. She knew it was wrong of her to use you but she didn't mean to, she wanted to make amends and do things right. She couldn't bear being away from you.

"Y/n, may I borrow some rice?" Rosalyne came to your house one day asking for some rice like a good neighbor.

"O-Oh sure, come in." you subsconsciously let her inside and asked her to come to the kitchen. She watched you take out the rice then silently walked up to you and hugged you from behind, catching you off guard.

"R-Rosalyne?"

"I'm sorry.... I'm so sorry for that day, Y/n. I know I did something very wrong, but please don't punish me this way..... You have become so distant, so closed off, you avoid me so much. You can hate me all you want, but please don't leave me.... not you too, please...."

Her arms tightened around you and you could tell she was weeping. You hated seeing her in this state, you never wanted to make her cry.

"....I can never hate you, Rosalyne. And I'm not ignoring you because of that. It's just.... I like you. No, I love you. I love you very much, I have loved you for years. I loved you 6 years ago too.... I want to be there for you and help you, I really do. But... I need some time to move on and forget these feelings so that I can be a true friend for you...."

Rosalyne let go of the hug and enabled you to turn around to face her. Her eyes were filled with tears, a tear rolled down her cheek and you gently smiled then wiped it away and cupped her face.

"I don't expect you to love me, it's okay. But just.... give me some time. I'm not strong enough to move on from you if you keep doing these things...."

Rosalyne's heart skipped a beat and before she knew it, her body moved on it's own to push you towards the counter as her lips relentlessly seeked yours. Her arms wrapped around your neck and she passionately kissed you, this time she was completely sober and knew what she was doing. You kissed for god knows how long, you were a panting mess by the time she stopped.

".....I love you too, Y/n. I want to be together because I love you and not for Ray's sake. I want to spend the rest of my life with you...."

#genshin impact #genshin x reader #genshin women #la signora #signora x reader #ningguang x reader #ningguang #lisa #lisa x reader #genshin impact lisa #genshin #genshin impact signora #genshin ningguang #genshin lisa #la signora x reader

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callsigns-haze · 17 days

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Could you write a Tyler Owens x reader where he's helping the reader calm down from an intense school moment. Like in college for a tough major (architecture would be cool lol, not biased at all; maybe focusing on better built homes for tornados) and it's like the first day of classes and it's chaos already.

Study Stress

Pairing: Tyler Owens x Reader

Warnings: Study stress, crying, emotional turmoil

A/N: I study architecture so trust me I have 11 projects going on currently and I sit in tears

The first day of classes at the College of Architecture was supposed to be exciting—a fresh start, a new challenge. But as the hours ticked by, Y/N felt the weight of the day pressing down on her, each class piling on more expectations and responsibilities. The chaotic buzz of students around her, the endless syllabi full of demanding projects, and the looming deadlines were enough to make her head spin.

By the time her last class ended, Y/N was completely overwhelmed. The idea of spending the next several years in this intense environment, working on complex designs and innovative solutions, seemed daunting. And to top it all off, her focus on tornado-resistant homes—a passion project born from personal experience—only added to the pressure. The stakes felt incredibly high, and it seemed like everyone else was already miles ahead.

Dragging herself back to her apartment, Y/N tried to hold it together. But as soon as she closed the door behind her, the floodgates opened. She slid down to the floor, her back against the door, tears spilling down her cheeks. The stress, the anxiety, the fear of failure—it all came crashing down at once.

She didn’t hear the door open or Tyler’s footsteps approaching. She was too lost in her thoughts, in the panic that was rising inside her. But when she felt his arms wrap around her, pulling her into a warm, comforting embrace, she finally exhaled.

“Hey, hey… it’s okay,” Tyler’s voice was soft, soothing, as he gently rocked her. “I’ve got you.”

Y/N buried her face in his chest, her sobs muffled against his shirt. “It’s too much, Ty. It’s only the first day, and I’m already falling apart. How am I supposed to do this?”

Tyler didn’t respond right away. Instead, he just held her, letting her cry, letting her get it all out. He knew better than to try and fix things with words right now. Sometimes, you just needed to let the storm pass on its own.

After a few minutes, when her breathing started to even out, Tyler pulled back just enough to look at her, his hand gently brushing a few stray tears from her face. “You don’t have to do it all at once, you know,” he said, his voice calm and reassuring. “You’re going to take it one step at a time, one class at a time, one project at a time. And I’ll be right here with you, every step of the way.”

Y/N sniffled, wiping at her eyes. “But what if I can’t do it? What if I’m not good enough?”

“You’re more than good enough,” Tyler replied firmly, his eyes meeting hers with unwavering confidence. “You’re smart, passionate, and driven. You care about what you’re doing, and that’s half the battle right there. The rest… well, it’s just practice. You’ll get better, you’ll get stronger, and you’ll learn how to handle the pressure.”

Y/N wanted to believe him, but the doubt still lingered. “I’m so scared of failing.”

Tyler’s expression softened, and he took her hands in his, squeezing them gently. “Failure isn’t the end of the world, Y/N. It’s just part of the process. And you’re not in this alone. You’ve got your classmates, your professors, and you’ve got me. I’m not going to let you go through this by yourself.”

She looked into his eyes, finding comfort in the steady, reassuring gaze that had always been her anchor. Tyler was her calm in the storm, the person who could steady her when everything else felt like it was spiraling out of control.

Taking a deep breath, Y/N nodded, feeling a little more centered. “Okay… one step at a time.”

Tyler smiled, leaning in to press a gentle kiss to her forehead. “That’s my girl. Now, how about we take the rest of the day off? We can order some takeout, watch a movie, and just relax. The work will still be there tomorrow.”

The idea of taking a break sounded like exactly what she needed. “Yeah… I’d like that.”

“Good,” Tyler said, helping her up from the floor. He kept his arm around her as they moved to the couch, where he pulled a blanket over them both. As they settled in, Y/N felt the tension slowly leaving her body, replaced by a sense of warmth and security.

With Tyler by her side, she knew she could face whatever challenges came her way. And for now, that was enough.

Requests for Tyler are open be free to send in as much as you wish!

tagging some:

@senawashere

@saviorcomplexrry

@cevansbaby-dove

@saynotononsense

@missdottie

@willowisp7

@taorislover94

@eloquenceinpurple

@86laura11

@rosiahills22

@jessicab1991

@kmc1989

@shanimallina87

@eternalsams

@teen-antisocial

@katiemcrae

#tyler owens x reader #tyler owens x you #tyler owens fanfic #tyler owens #twisters fanfiction #tyler owens imagine #tyler owens x y/n #tyler owens smut #dad!tyler owens

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celestie0 · 7 months

Text

MASSIVE gojo x reader fanfic rec (no spoilers)

ok i know a lot of my followers are gojo girlies and i just need to put yall onto this fucking fanfiction because i just read the latest release for it and i’m genuinely tweaking rn🧍🏻‍♀️

@lostfracturess ‘s amazing work called “symptoms & causes” - a medical au

[image pulled from her masterlist]

let me just…let me just try to even gather the reasons why you need to add this to your tbr lists (weekend is comin up too so perfect time)

characterization of gojo satoru.

gojo in this fic is characterized so fucking well, from chapter one. there are so many distinctive ways miss lostfractures goes about building his aura (word of mouth/reputation, dialogue, expository, primary interactions, secondary interactions, etc.) it reminds me of the show where gojo just has this energy to him that you can't tear yourself away from i picture him in this fic to be unrelenting, unforgiving, morally grey, with an undertone of softness yet still feral through it all,, basically gojo during shibuya arc LOL. i looove reading cute silly boy gojo fics sm (he’s so baby) but THIS fic explores the borderline wicked side of him that is so thrilling, unique, and rare to find i think in this fandom’s collection of works. it’s just so fucking good.

forbidden romance.

UGGHH i love stories w forbidden romance. in this one, it’s med student reader x professor gojo (additional power dynamics in that he’s a senior surgeon in her field and also a research mentor in her study of interest…TRIPLE THREAT DAMN). i love how miss lostfractures doesn’t shy away from reminding the reader that it’s wrong, and that they shouldn’t be doing this. that’s my fave part of forbidden romances like yesss remind me again why this is all so wrong but let’s still do it anyways LOL <333

reader’s voice.

i’ve LOVED reader since the beginning, so relatable, emotionally mature, all her flaws are so believable & her strengths are shown seamlessly. it’s just so much fun to read because i’ll literally have a thought like “hmm…that (something a character said/did) doesn’t sound very convincing” and then the next line will be something like “he didn’t sound very convincing” like!!! me and s&c reader?? we’re locked in like this fr🤞🏼 like gojo’s domain expansion fingers

escapism.

everything in this story feels so damn real it’s insane. the pacing is stunning, love the utilization of stacks of scenes that are sort of short but so concise, enough to be a smooth read but still descriptive enough to entirely transport you into the world that’s being built. cannot praise the writing in this story enough. also the variety of ways that scenarios are made that pull characters closer to one another?? so creative. as someone who works in a research lab, studied bio in college (some of the fkn biochem stuff that comes up in this fic gives me heart attacks lmfaooo pls im traumatized), and has worked in clinics/hospitals it just itches my brain so damn good. you’ll be convinced you’re a brilliant med student while you read this fic.

writing.

the writing is just. so. good. it’s so good. better than most PUBLISHED works i’ve read. i really can't say much other than that, you just have to go see for yourself.

—

if any of these reasons speak to you, i highly recommend you check the fic out. just a note tho it does have some dark themes but you can find all the tags/warnings on her page!

OK BYE

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twstowo · 8 days

Note

I've seen fan art about what if the reader/yuu look like one of the bullies from Azul's past? I can no longer get the idea out of my head.

What makes it worse is that Azul loves them, but he also can't stand them because of his memories of the bully who looks like them.

♡︎This felt personal for a moment or two.

♡︎Also, what Fanart Anon??? Don't just leave me curious in here!!! I want to see what are you talking about.

He could spend most of his day just staring at you, wondering how such a wonderful person could have such a face. He longs to spend time with you, to show you how generous his soul is by offering you things no one else could ever give. He wants you to see how much better he is compared to all the other students at Night Raven College. He craves your attention, sending Floyd and Jade to deliver small gifts in the name of the Mostro Lounge.

But as soon as you approach him, and his mind registers how much you resemble one of his past bullies, something shifts. His thoughts lock in, and he can't stop the glare or the venomous words that spill from his mouth. He no longer resembles the kind Azul who gave you presents and offered you free meals at the Mostro Lounge. Instead, he becomes the cruel and lonely octomer who used to spend his days reading and brewing potions in the cold depths of the Coral Sea, far away from the other kids his age who mocked him for how he looked. He's filled with anger, angry that the world stole the childhood we only get to enjoy once, angry that he was always the one being ridiculed, angry that he was never anyone's first choice.

But you… you don’t treat him like that. You’ve never made fun of him, you’ve never chosen someone else over him. You've only been kind.

Every time you approach, his chest tightens with conflicting emotions. Part of him wants to retreat into the cold, dark shell he's built for himself over the years, while the other part, the softer part that craves connection, wants to reach out, to bask in your kindness. But he can’t let himself do that. Not when you look like them. Not when you remind him of everything he once despised.

He doesn’t understand why you bother to talk to him. Someone so perfect, so charming, what could you possibly want from him other than to mock him? You might think you're different, but he can see it in your eyes, you’re just like the others.

Yet, even when he hurls all those horrible things at you, you don’t flinch. You stand by his side, unwavering. You see right through him, and he hates that more than anything.

It takes him months to slowly open up, to crawl out of the hole he retreats into every time you walk by. Gradually, he stops sending Floyd and Jade to deliver his gifts for him. Instead, he tries to give them to you himself, but more often than not, he gives up halfway. He’ll stand there, flowers in hand, pacing the VIP room, wondering if it’s really worth it.

But you’re worth the struggle. He repeats those words over and over, convincing himself that you’re different, that you’re someone who will be there for him no matter what.

With one final deep breath, he opens the door to the VIP room, telling himself he won’t back down this time. He won’t do anything else until he gives you the flowers and finally apologizes for all the times he’s been so rude when all you ever wanted was to be his friend

#twst #twisted wonderland #disney twst #twst wonderland #disney twisted wonderland #twisted wonderland x reader #twst reader #twst x reader #x reader #azul x reader #azul ashengrotto #twst azul

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snghnlvr · 2 months

Text

delicate | nishimura riki

౨ৎ ## love so delicate like yours, synopsis: you've realized how far you've gotten with your boyfriend now that both of you are adults.

extra: at this point, all of the members are taylor swift coded | soft love is the best love | yn is me because im also 18 and i dont wanna pay taxes D:

likes, reblogs, and comments are appreciated! <3

[below the cut]

you sighed as you laid yourself flat against the blankets. you smiled in delight as if your troubles and worries left you.

“school’s over.” you said, feeling your chest heavy. you recalled the school memories that you’ve experienced; both happy and sad, now that you’re taking the next chapter of your life; college.

it’s leaving a bittersweet feeling on your whole body.

“it is.” you looked over your shoulder, to see your boyfriend, riki fiddling with his yearbook. his fingers spotted towards the back of the book, heartfelt messages and inspiring words that his friends wrote for him.

you’re in riki’s backyard, inside of a treehouse both of you built since children with the help of your parents. you’re so lucky your dad is a constructor.

riki is sitting, one leg sticking out and one knee bent as he leans into the wooden walls. this position allows you to admire him from below as the sunlight flashes on his beautiful features.

he’s reading every single message with sincerity and care, from his senior friends that he will probably never see again and his younger juniors that he can’t annoy anymore as he pleases. despite hating waking up early every morning and him dealing with tiring lectures, he has to admit he made memories and friends that’s worth a life time.

“i can’t believe we’re gonna be college students now. where we have to pay off debts, start our career paths, those people who are gonna be closer to 20 than 16 - it’s just,” you took in a breath. “surreal. surreal that we are growing up.”

you had always had a fear of growing up. not wanting to achieve the things and goals you’ve planned on time. you felt like you’re rushing to do everything at once before it becomes too late. you always wanna stay 16 forever; forever naive to understand the real world. how you’re closest friends will separate from you. how everything you’re experiencing right now will be just a memory.

riki glanced down on you where you’re staring off of space. he can sense the anxiety in your tone.

he closes the book after he was staring at a picture. a picture titled, “best couple” and it’s a picture of the both of you standing next to each other, smiling widely. he smiled at how adorable you looked next to him.

he scooted closer to you, making himself comfortable once he lays down next to you. his back lays flat, mimicking your position.

“are you scared?” riki likes to question the obvious, but it helps you reflect on your feelings; how fear is just a feeling and to understand your emotions a bit better.

“just a little anxious just all,” you confessed, looking at riki whose eyes never left yours. “i’m sure it will disappear soon. i mean, everyone experiences this.” you reassure yourself and riki sense it, enjoying your honesty.

“mhm,” riki mumbles. “it’s okay to feel anxious, the future is scary.” he looks down. “it’s only a matter of time how you’re gonna handle it. you create your own future.”

his words ring in your head. he’s right.

riki took your silence as a way that you agree with him.

he then glanced down towards your arm, a black-inked drawing that attracted him. riki scooted closer, his body turned to yours. he propped himself up with his elbow.

no matter how close the proximity is between the both of you, it still makes you nervous til this day. especially with how much older and mature-looking your boyfriend of 6 years is.

“your parents aren’t mad about this?” riki gently poked on your arm, eyes analyzing the art in your arm. it’s only been a week since you decided to get your first tattoo.

it’s beautiful, he thinks.

“not anymore, i’m 18 now.” you huffed out. you remembered the horror on your parents’ faces but a sigh of defeat when they realized you’re now responsible of yourself. it makes you chuckle about their panicked expressions, slowly making themselves aware that you’re not gonna be their little 4 year old reckless daughter anymore.

“i can imagine your mom shrieking.” riki giggled which made you scoffed because he wasn’t wrong.

“your birth flower?” riki asked, his fingertips gently tracing the traces of your birth flower.

your eyes widened a bit at his sudden touch then you looked down at how focused riki was. his eyes were staring at it as if your tattoo was a museum.

your heart beat quickened at the sight.

“the flower that i drew for you in your math notebook in 6th grade.” riki smiled, realizing how much time flies since you guys called it official since middle school. you’ve remembered the nervousness riki’s hands were, fiddling the bouquet of origami flowers. flowers he made for each that day that he fell in love with you. you thought it was silly. riki has always been caring and kind to you so it was natural for you to reprociate the feelings back. and so, without any pressure or doubts, you guys called it official.

“i thought you threw your old notebooks away..” his voice still remains soft and delicate, still smiling at your tattoo. he started to reminisce the times he would doodle on your notebook without you noticing. like a surprise.

“i ripped the page and kept it since.” when you were going into your freshman self, you looked back into the notebooks to reminsince your middle school memories. you’ve came across a drawing — no other than riki’s in one of your notebooks. you ripped it out and hid it in a safe spot until you get a tattoo of it ever since.

some people thought you guys weren’t gonna make it past middle school — even you too, but since both of you got in the same highschool, it remained strong. a strong string holding your relationship tight.

yes, with hormones acting up and puberty getting in the way, there were times where you guys had fought and argued together to the point it was nearing breaking apart but both of you shouldn’t let it slide. not when it has reached this far. and how much you love each other.

although your boyfriend has grown up, there are occasionally times where he teases you and becomes childish around you, it makes you soft-hearted at how he still has a soul of his 12-year old self. especially moments where he look similar to a duck, which made you think about how much duck plushies you have on your bed because it reminds you of riki.

you’re happy that you’re growing up with him.

“what are you thinking about pretty girl?”

you gasped lightly, realizing that you’re spacing out. you looked at him and you see a small smirk implemented on his face, curious of what your pretty head is thinking about.

your face relaxes, trying to calm yourself. you’re nervous over nothing.

you looked down at your hands, then glance at riki’s hand comfortably resting, then back to your hands. your fingers slowly creep upon riki’s fingers, slowly rubbing them with yours. you smiled at the sight.

“it’s insane to think about how much we’ve grown.” you paused. “together.”

riki’s eyes looked at the sight, his heart beat echoing and growing louder. no matter what you do, you always make him think irrational. he then glances at you smiling when you’re playing with his fingers. “not many people believed in us lasting this long, not even me. i was worried if one of us lost feelings, found someone else better, or get something in our way, but im glad that we didn’t give up.” you looked at riki where his attention was diverted to you. he raised an eyebrow to indicate that he was listening.

“i’m happy that i’m dating you, i can’t express how much i adore you, how much you mean to me, i’ve never felt love this strong before — you’re just everything to me. i can’t imagine laughing harder than with anyone else, smile so much with anyone else. with you, it’s different. thank you for loving me.”

you’re cringing on the inside at how much you confessed in such a short amount of time. you’re met with silence from your boyfriend who seem atonished from your words. you’re embarrassed, pulling back your fingers to cover your blushing cheeks in front of your boyfriend.

riki’s lips twitched, happy for you to express your feelings more comfortably now compared to the past situations. (one of the reasons that you’ve guys argued before) his chest felt light, his grin becoming bigger when you’re hiding from him.

you hear the blankets rustling, you felt riki’s arm slowly snake around your wrist to lightly remove your hand from your face. you removed your embarrassed hands and your eyes followed his hand clasping onto yours. the sight of his veiny hands makes you silent.

you admire the two of you holding hands. your stomach was feeling butterflies just as it was the first time riki confessed his feelings to you. riki twists your wrist, allowing you to see the sight from all angles. it looks so perfect. your hand perfectly structured to hold his.

“you’re just as perfect as to what i am seeing right now.” riki spoke with a soft tone, chuckling when he kept twisting and turning your wrist. “you have a place in my heart no one else could ever have. my heart is so full of you i can hardly call it my own. i choose you. and i’ll choose you over and over. without a pause, without a doubt, in a heartbeat, i’ll keep choosing you. as long as i’m alive, you will always be loved.”

you’re speechless at your boyfriend’s words to the point you feel like crying. riki still kept smiling at you, giggling. you saw the crescents formed in his eyes whenever he smiled at you and it never fails to make yourself love him more.

riki took this opportunity to lift himself up, hovering above you. he pecked your forehead. you felt his warm lips touching your skin and the goosebumps always forms whenever he makes you flustered.

you looked up at him, surprised. he looked down at you with his head tilted and a scrunched nose like a puppy, as if he was proud to do that.

nothing but an exchange of loud heart beats matching with one another and genuine giggles back and forth.

riki then leaned in towards you. you closed your eyes at the expected action. his lips touching with yours. electricity flows when he rubs his fingers on your hands. it always make you feel all tingly on the inside.

riki then pulls back, “cute.” he teases you, making your cheeks grow hotter. “shut up.” you rolled eyes, earning a little laugh from him.

riki still doesn’t let go of your intertwined hands as he returns to his original position where you’re laying flat on the ground, shoulder to shoulder.

“so your summer plans?” riki asked casually. he lifted his head as his arm was under his head to act as support.

you then touched your bangs, realizing that you still have that caramel-like highlights since march. you were starting to get bored of it.

you pursed your lips. “maybe dye my hair next week back to black.”

riki’s eyes shined. “match with me.” he spoke without thinking. you turned your head to him, realizing that his hair is black now.

your boyfriend likes it alot when both of you match.

“if you bleach it next month to some color then what?” you pointed out because sometimes your boyfriend makes impulsive decisions on his hair whenever he sees a cool hairstyles. you’re not angry whenever he does this because he’s good looking with whatever hair color he has.

“i won’t bleach it, i promise. i’ll follow you.” riki spoke and it makes you chuckle that he probably doesn’t realize the importance of his words. “red? blue? silver, i’ll do it for you.” you froze at his sudden deep voice erupting from him. your heart beat also freezes when his lips touches the location of your tattoo. you looked down and see his lips pushed forward. your heart flutters once again.

“you’re dumb.” you spoke, eyes softening at what you were hearing.

gosh, you really love this man.

riki smiles against your skin, looking up and your heart twists at an umfamiliar sight. “i can be that.” he whispers like it was a promise.

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miley1442111 · 2 months

Note

hiii!! i was wondering if you would maybe wanna write a Chef Luca x reader that takes place at the Ever funeral (they met there) and they get to tell everyone that they are engaged? that would be very cute i think

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

time after time- chef luca

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

a/n: thank you so much for requesting, I loved this idea and maybe got a little carried away... :)

summary: a look in at your life with luca

pairings: chef luca x fem! reader

warnings: kissing, cursing, smut (18+) (piv, oral (f reciving), fighting, anxiety, brief mention of vomit, reader gets hurt, blood, talk of injuries and stitches (i think that's it??)

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

As you walked into the Ever funeral, you couldn’t help but feel the nostalgia hit you like a wave. This was where you’d learnt to cook, where you met some of your best life-long friends, and of course, Luca. As you looked at the halls you’d known so well, you couldn’t help but think about your time there, and how it had impacted you, in every way.

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

Your first day…

You walked in ten minutes early. You were supposed to be twenty minutes early, if you hadn’t had to stop and vomit before you left your new apartment. Chicago was growing on you, though you were surprised at how cold it truly got there, since you’d been living in Spain for the past couple of years. You walked through the halls, everything new, as you greeted fellow students/ chefs. Everyone knew who you were, you were supposed to be a rising star in the food world, winning the ‘Rising Chef Award’ that year for your work in Azurmendi restaurant, a michelin star restaurant in Spain. You were supposed to be the best, so when people found out you weren’t, they would have a fucking field day.

Carmen Berzatto was quiet, but he was the person you clicked with the most. Clearly the mentally disturbed got along well, that's what you two said anyways.

Luca was a fucking prick. He was the cockiest of cocky pieces of shit, he was acting like he owned the place, and better yet, he was fucking stunningly gorgeous. You turned to your new friend, Gilian as she swooned over the British accent, tattoos, and built arms.

The day went by smoothly, hitting it off with other chefs in the group, but never really getting close enough to Luca to really see anything other than his cocky smirks and party-boy aura. You loved Ever already, and you were excelling. You got put with Gillian as your partner, and Carm was put with Luca, and though they both tried to switch, no one would take the other, so they were forced to deal with it.

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

Your first week…

Luca and Carmen were a match made in hell. They politely threw digs at each other right under Chef Andrea’s nose, and when they were caught, she was too fond of the both of them to actually punish them. You’d learnt that Carm had a great way of getting people to do the things he wanted them to, aka, screaming at the top of his lungs, and Luca was slower than Carm, which meant they were both equally as insufferable as each other. Like you said, match made in hell.

You stayed late one night, trying to perfect a recipe you were supposed to send back to Azurmendi. It was beating your ass, every single time it just felt wrong. Like something was missing.

You watched in horror as Luca walked into the kitchen, his apron on and a bowl of pastry dough in his hands.

God, this was going to be a long night.

“What are you making?” He asked, kneading the dough.

“Just something for Azurmendi,” you mumbled, not exactly wanting this conversation to progress. Some of the girls had been complaining about his ‘asshole behaviour’ but what they really meant was that he was handsome and didn’t want to go out with them.

“Can I see?’ he asked, and you nodded slowly, moving out of the way of the dish to let him try it.

It was a deconstructed caramelised banana pudding with raspberry compote that was still missing something. He walked around the counter, his eyes on you the whole time as you absorbed yourself in the plate. It looked beautiful, but did it taste good? You’d tried a hundred and one things with it, strawberry compote, vanilla sauces, mango, everything. This was your last resort.

He looked at the plater, moving it around to get different angles. It was a stunning presentation, he couldn’t lie. “What does it taste like?”

You shrugged. He chuckled.

“What?” he chuckled. “Are you messing with me?”

You shook your head. “I don’t like bananas, or raspberries,” you shrugged. “You taste it and tell me.”

He was in shock when you handed him a spoon. “You’re sure?” and you nodded.

He dug in, tasting the banana pudding, with the caramel, and the raspberry compote and… it was delicious. Probably the best thing he’d ever eaten, and from the prettiest girl he’d ever seen. See, you wouldn’t know this until years later but since the first day, he’d been looking at you. He’d wanted nothing more than to even be friends with you, he didn’t even know he;d one day become your boyfriend, then your fiancé, and soon, your husband. “That’s fucking brilliant.”

You smiled softly. “You sure?”

“Best thing I’ve ever eaten, hands down,” he nodded, taking another spoon.

You chuckled. “You’re just saying that.”

“No, trust me, I’m not,” he said, shovelling another spoon into his mouth. “You mind if I finish this?” He asked, mouth full of the dessert. Usually stuff like that would make you gag, but Luca made it funny. You found yourself laughing. “Luca,” he smiled, holding out his hand for you to take once he’d finished his meal.

“Y/n,” you smiled.

“You’re really impressive, I’ve seen your stuff. I’d love to pick your brain about Azumendi, if you wouldn’t mind me geeking out about you for a few hours?” He smiled. He was pretty charismatic, and pretty well… pretty.

“Sure,” you nodded. “When are you free?”

“Saturday night? I know this great restaurant nearby,” He smiled.

“I’m free Saturday night,” you nodded. “Sounds like a plan.”

“Sounds like a date to me!” Chef Andrea called from behind you two as she walked in. You two jumped apart, despite being pretty far apart to begin with.

“I-um-you didn’t- it doesn't have to be-” you stumbled over your words as Luca watched with a crooked smile on his face.

“It's a date,” he cut you off. “Unless you don’t want it to be.”

You nodded. “Then I think it’s a date,” you smiled.

Luca was sure to thank Andrea the next day.

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

Saturday night…

You got out of your chef white’s the second you got home and straight into getting ready for the date that was forty-five minutes away. You did your makeup, got dressed, then waited by the door for Luca.

The doorbell rang and there he was, pink shirt, black slacks and that same Luca smile. He looked you up and down and smiled. “God you’re fucking gorgeous.”

You felt yourself heat up at his comment. “You don’t look too bad yourself.”

He smiled wider and off you went to Lorenzo’s, an Italian spot near Ever.

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

The night went off perfectly, he was sweet, funny, and he actually listened to you as you geeked out about food and restaurants and everything in between. Luca was great.

When he dropped you back off at your apartment, you were laughing so hard you almost fell over, he caught you by the waist, pulling you into his as he chuckled.

You didn’t realise how close he was until you noticed his breath on your cheek. Soon, the laughing was softened to sweet smiles, and he cupped your cheek and kissed you softly, much softer than you'd imagined. His lips were sweet, still tasting of the berry dessert you’d shared after your delicious meal. You pull back, a shocked smile on your face.

“I really like you,” he admitted, blushing. “And I really want to take you out again.”

You smiled. “I’d really like that.”

His face lit up. “Yeah?”

“Yeah,” you nodded. He let go of you, watching as you unlocked your apartment door.

“Bye,” he smiled. You couldn’t resist, you pressed your lips to his again as his hands circled your waist and yours went to mess up his hair.

“Bye,” you called after you pulled away, turning to go inside. He looked so good like that, lips red, hair slightly tousled, shocked look on his face. It was nice. He was nice.

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

One month in…

Luca watched you as you walked into the kitchen, talking with Chef Andrea as she asked about the dish you had made in Azurmendi. He thought you were gorgeous, his eyes were always drawn to you in every room. The past month had been full of dinner dates, getting lunch, and sometimes meeting up for breakfasts before work. He was falling in love with you, and he knew it. Everything about you made him want to know more, to spend more time with you, to be with you. Granted, he hadn’t asked you to be his girlfriend yet, but all that would change today. He’d decided that on your usual lunch break, he’d ask you to officially be his girlfriend. That was the right thing to do, right?

“You good man?” Carmen asked, chewing much too loud in Luca’s opinion.

“Fine,” he answered, finally out of his trance.

Carmen stared at him for a moment. “You good?”

“Good Chef,” he nodded.

“Cause it looks to me that you’re staring at Chef Y/n,” he observed. “And that means your head isn’t in the kitchen. Is your head not in the kitchen, Chef?”

“My head is as firmly in the kitchen as yours is up your ass Carm,” Luca retorted before leaving to grab his ingredients for the day. Carmen Berzatto was a dick, Luca had no idea what you saw in him as a friend.

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

You were cutting, the same as always. Then you felt the familiar nudge that CArm had been giving you in recent weeks, just a friendly tap on the back as he passed behind you. Then there was a knife in your hand. “Fuck!” More specifically, there was a huge gash in your hand.

Everyone’s eyes shot up, all attention on you. No one moved as you grabbed your hand, blood gushing as your eyes welled up. You crouched down, holding your hand in pain.

“Y/n-” Carm tried but Luca was quick to swoop in, kneeling beside you.

“Are you alright? Come on, let’s go,” he held you as he led you out of the kitchen. He held you close, practically carrying you as he put you into his car, rushing you to A&E.

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

Some stitches, a lot of bandages, and a blood bag later (you’d lost a lot), you were discharged and exhausted. Chicago A&E wait times are no fucking joke. Luca drove you back to your apartment.

“Anything I can do for you?” He asked, still worried about you.

“Do you want to come up and we can get takeout? I need to thank you for taking care of me today,” you chuckled. He shook his head, a smile on his face.

“No need for thanking, I’m just glad that you’re ok,” he smiled. “But I will take you up on dinner, since we missed our lunch date today.”

You walked up, hand in hand (not your hurt one), and led him into your apartment. He’d never truly been inside, only getting glimpses, but he knew he’d love it. It was perfect, it was so you. Knick-knacks from you various hobbies and pictures from your life, even one of you as a kid.

“Cute kid,” he smiled, picking up the photo. You laughed. “She’s cuter now.”

You rolled your eyes at his bad joke. “Shut up,” you chuckled. “What do you want for dinner?”

“Lorenzo’s?” He offered.

“Wow,” you chuckled. “Call back to when we first started dating.”

He nodded. So you were dating, right? “Exactly.”

“Huh, look at that,” you smiled, trying to keep up the facade of not being very nervous about this. “It’s been exactly a month since.”

“Our one month anniversary,” he smiled and your heart melted. He also thought you were actually dating, even if he hadn’t specifically called you his girlfriend, and you hadn’t explicitly said he was your boyfriend.

He was silent for a moment, so were you. Just looking at each other.

“That means I can call you my girlfriend, right?” He asked, a bashful smile on his lips.

You smiled back. “Yes.”

“Good,” he groaned, pulling your waist into his. “I’ve been wanting to call you that all month.”

You chuckled. “I’m glad.”

He smiled. “So you’re my girlfriend.”

“So you’re my boyfriend,” you chuckled and he pressed his lips to yours.

“Have I ever told you how gorgeous you are?” he asked, pulling away.

“I don’t think I deserve that title after crying today. I’m an ugly crier,” you chuckled.

“You are not an ugly crier, plus it was Carmen’s fucking fault anyway,” he defended.

You shrugged. “Things happen in the kitchen.”

“And that wouldn’t have happened if Carm was such a piece of shit,” he cursed, smiling at you.

“Let’s just order dinner, yeah?”

He pressed his lips to yours again. “Yeah.”

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

Two months in…

You and Luca had both had a shit day, nothing had gone right in the kitchen, you’d burnt yourself, and Carmen was really getting on Luca’s nerves, to the point of a screaming match during lunch.

He pushed you up against the counter as he pressed searing kisses to your lips and neck. You were boiling, despite the freezing kitchen.

“Luc,” you groaned. You and Luca hadn’t gone further than heavy making out, and something told you that Luca wasn’t slowing down this time. It was late, you were the only two still there, who could it hurt?

He pulled your t-shirt over your head pressing a kiss to your clavicle. “So gorgeous.”

“Luca, someone could come in,” You hissed as he pressed kisses down your torso. “Luca!”

He looked up from between your legs, eyes dark and hair messy, and a part of you just didn’t care. You wanted him. “Please baby.”

You nodded, a smile on your face. He pulled off your jeans and underwear in one fluid movement as you lay back.

“So pretty baby,” he pressed kisses to the insides of your thighs as you started overthinking the entire situation. Someone could just come in, anyone, even Andrea, you had no fucking idea. Also, did Luca actually want to do this? Most guys didn’t like eating pussy, and you didn’t even know the last time you’d shaved.

He finally pressed his tongue against your clit and your brain short- circuited. “Luca!” You moaned, putting a hand in his hair. “Fuck Luca, there!”

Luca added a finger, then two, until you were writhing on the table, fucking you past your first orgasm and into another one, as he moaned along like he was being pleasured by this. He didn’t stop sucking and fucking your pussy with his tongue for a long time, despite how hard he was in his boxers, despite how much he wanted to fuck you. You tasted incredible, something he could only dream of recreating, oh, that was a good idea… Anyway, he fucked you through two orgasms, then stood back up.

You whined at the loss of contact as he unzipped his trousers, taking out his cock. God, he was big. Big, and fucking thick. “Luca I-”

“Are you on birth control?” He asked, spreading some of your slick over his cock and stroking himself.

You nodded. He smiled.

“Good girl.”

And with that, he pushed into you in one painful thrust. You moaned into his mouth as he pressed his to yours in a searing kiss. He let you adjust, then slowly started moving.

“Faster,” you begged. “Faster Luca.”

He was all too happy to oblige.

And that’s how your first time fucking Luca was in the kitchen of Ever.

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

The big fight…

It had been a shit fucking week. Chicago was cold and damp, and your bike had gotten a flat on your way home from work. Shitty. On Monday, your trainee burnt you, then blamed you. On Tuesday, you didn’t even see Luca, he was too busy at Ever. On Wednesday, you smashed your phone screen. On Thursday, Luca’s mother called to say she was visiting next week, with absolutely no warning, so that meant you had to sort out your new apartment all night.

Shitty.

Luca barged in, angry from the week. All week he had been fucking up. Small mistake no one should be making, let alone him. Worst part? He hadn’t seen you all week. But there you were, sitting on the couch with a book, snuggled into a throw blanket.

“Hey,” he called out. No reply. “Baby?” No reply. “Babe!”

No reply. “Fine, fucking be like that.”

Luca marched into the bathroom, his anger bubbling.

You hadn’t even seen him enter, too engrossed in your novel and the music in your earphones to look up. After about an hour of reading, you left your cosy spot on the couch, retiring to the bedroom. And there he was, your Luca, lying in bed.

“Hey,” you smiled, climbing into bed beside him. “I didn’t hear you come in.”

“Of course you didn’t,” he scoffed, pulling away from you. “You never fucking listen anyways.”

You were taken aback. Why the fuck was he being so pissy? “What?”

“It’d be great if you could even give me, your fucking boyfriend, a singular moment of your time, but I see that that’s too much to ask, so I’ll just go fuck myself.”

“Luca, what is wrong with you?” You huffed, confused at his words.

“Maybe I’ve had a shitty week alright? And maybe I wanted to spend time with you but you were too busy with your book to even fucking see me!”

You sighed. “Luc, I had headphones in, I couldn’t fucking hear you.”

“Oh yeah? And how many times have I asked you to turn down the volume or take one out so you can hear the world around you?” He asked condescendingly.

“Baby, you’re not meant to be home until 11 most nights, not 7:30. I thought I had time!”

“I sent you a text about it and all!”

“I wasn’t on my phone!” you defended.

He sighed. “I’m not doing this right now,” and he walked out of your bedroom, and out of the apartment.

And you were alone. What had just happened?

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

Luca took a walk to clear his head, but he just felt worse. He was being a dick and he knew it, but he was just so stressed. Work was hard, and you were the only one who made him feel good enough. And recently, since you’d transferred to another restaurant he’d been wondering if he was good enough in the kitchen, and for you.

You were amazing, countless chef awards, you’re a beautiful, stunning woman, but you were also kind, patient, and funny.

Was he enough for you?

And that night, it had all just exploded.

He walked back into the apartment to find you on the couch, eyes puffy and red-rimmed, nose running. He felt awful.

“I’m so sorry baby,” he whispered, kneeling in front of you. “I’m such an arsehole.”

“Yeah you are,” you sniffled. “But so am I. I’m sorry about the headphones.”

He shook his head. “You have nothing to be sorry for. I was just stressed this week, and I’m just taking it out on you. “I’m sorry, and I love you.”

You both froze. In your year and a half of dating, neither of you had been brave enough to admit that you loved each other, obviously, you both knew and felt the love, but neither of you had been brave enough to do it.

“Oh,” you said, and Luca looked up, a shocked look on his face. “I love you too,” you blurted out.

He smiled. “Good, I'm glad.”

You chuckled. “Me too.”

You both burst out laughing.

“That was so diplomatic!” you giggled.

“Who says ‘oh’ after someone says they love them?” Luca laughed, pulling you into his arms as you laughed.

Your fight had been long forgotten in a matter of seconds.

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

“Thinking about things?” Luca squeezed your hand, bringing you back to reality. He smirked at you.

“Maybe?” You smiled, holding him closer. “You?”

“Of course I am,” he whispered. “You looked so gorgeous on the counter-”

“Shut the fuck up!” You groaned.

Andrea suddenly appeared in front of you two, a bright smile on her face. “My two chefs!”

“Andrea!” You smiled, pulling her in for a hug. Andrea had always been one of your biggest supporters (well, her and Luca), always calling when she heard something new about your restaurant, and even coming to visit when she was in London.

“How are you two?” She asked. You smiled at Luca, who smiled back.

“We’re engaged,” you beamed, showing off the beautiful ring Luca had given to you, just a week ago.

“Oh my god!” she squealed. “What wonderful news!”

“What’s the wonderful news?” Carmen butted in, a smile on his face.

“We’re engaged,” Luca answered.

“Shit, congratulations!” He smiled, pulling you both in for a hug.

“Well, that is going to be one amazing wedding,” Andrea added. “Who’s your caterer?” She joked.

You both laughed. It felt good. It felt good to be this loved.

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

the bear masterlist :)

navigation for my blog :) (criminal minds, obx, the bear, marvel, top gun, the hunger games :)

#chef luca x reader #chef luca #the bear #will poulter #luca x reader #luca the bear #luca the bear x reader #the bear s3 #the bear fx #the bear season 3 #will poulter x reader #will poulter fic recs

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yuumcbr · 16 days

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A human's curiosity for an unknown god

Okay, this was in my notes and I didn't know whether to post it or not.

This is the deity AU by @ceruleancattail, I wrote this based on their amazing stories.

I think Leona might have become a bit OC, there's a POV switch.

You are a History student and recently your class started studying Greek history. One of your teachers decided to give some classes about the history of some gods and asked you to choose one of them and do a seminar.

In your research you found something on an internet wiki about Falena, the God of the Sun. In Greek culture, he was as famous as the god Neige and the god Cheka.

But what you found on the wiki caught your attention, it was a god you had never heard of, God Leona, the younger brother of the god of the Sun.

You clicked to see if you could find more about him and discovered that Leona was known as the God of the Moon. You found it interesting, this would mean that Leona and Falena looked after opposite areas of the world.

However, unlike what you imagined, Leona was considered a bad god who haunted humans by bringing night.

I mean, back then it was normal to think that night was something bad, since it was dark and cold (and since candles were a luxury item and there was no electricity, it must have been a little scary).

But in a few wikis on the internet there was information about how Falena loved her little brother and that the god Cheka idolized him above all else.

Cheka might be known as the God of innocence and childhood, but you were sure that Falena would push him away if the God Leona was really bad company.

Maybe, just maybe, the information was never complete (a plot hole?).

After much, much research and your interest in this mysterious god grew, you decided that he would be the subject of your college research.

Your classmates said that they would research more well-known Gods and that you should do the same, but your interest in the unknown always spoke louder.

As time went by and the deadline for your assignment approached, you noticed that it was getting harder and harder to find anything about this god, and sometimes you even talked in front of the computer, begging for information.

"Come on Leona, show up!" or "Why is it so hard to find anything about you, Leona?"

Over time, you found one or two books with some superficial information, and when that happened, you said it was your lucky day. Tired of always searching the same internet and all the books in the college library, you decided to abandon this method and look elsewhere, and what better place would there be than in the country of the ancient religion itself.

With a long weekend coming up, you looked for a temple of Leona, that way you could research it more in depth.

No matter how much you looked for any temple, nothing appeared. So you decided to go to a city where you would find a temple of Falena and Cheka, hoping to find a temple of Leona nearby.

You bought your ticket, rented a hotel and calmly waited for the big day.

The more followers a god has, the more power he has to use magic and perform miracles.

Just the fact that a human visits your temple or a place built to honor you is enough for him to be able to cure incurable diseases.

Constant prayer was even better, since this would signify faith in a god. It would give you the ability to move mountains.

However, if you wished to never meet this god or for another god to protect you from him, the god would begin to have a negative energy, meaning that if this god used magic, bad things would happen.

Leona thought that when he became known as the god of the moon, he would be as worshiped as his brother. However, several humans distorted his story to attract more followers to Falena.

And little by little, all who followed him were condemned and he could do nothing about it, since his magic was too negative to help them and this would only make the situation worse.

After the anger of having those who trusted him leave and having his feelings shattered. He gave up on ever having a follower again.

Centuries passed and several gods lost their followers to time and countless were resurrected.

No matter how many gods were forgotten, there was always someone who quoted them to say something and that was enough for their legacy to continue existing.

Leona had almost no moments where his legacy was remembered and of those few moments, most described him as a bad and bitter god.

He gave up on seeing what happened in the human world, just lying down and relaxing for eternity.

Sometimes he felt his chest tighten with something bad or a short feeling of goodness and he knew it was just another one of the few moments when someone remembered him.

Leona ignored it, never wanting to see what they talked about behind his back.

One day when Leona was playing chess alone, that distressing feeling appeared again and it made him angry.

"Tch, humans should learn to think a little with their heads instead of believing everything they see."

And as if this human was able to hear him, the feeling gradually improved, bringing a small joy.

This made Leona stop for a moment, holding a pawn in her hand and thinking deeply.

A ghost of a smile appeared when she understood, but she doesn't think it's worth checking, his game is more interesting than a short-lived thought.

However, the feeling lasted a few more hours before it went away.

The next day, Leona had dinner with Falena, Cheka and his sister-in-law at Falena's request.

"So Leona, what good have you been up to?"

His sister-in-law asked, trying to start a conversation.

Playing with the vegetables on his plate, the Moon God stared at his sister-in-law.

"Nothing much, just the same as always."

"Oh mom, yesterday there was a soul researching Unca!"

Cheka said excitedly, the god of innocence and childhood was always happy when a human was nice to his uncle.

Leona looked at his nephew, maybe yesterday's soul found him while researching about Cheka or his brother.

"Oh that's nice! It's not every day we get good news like this, why don't we celebrate?"

His brother said excitedly. He knows in reality they just want him to get out and interact with other gods.

"No, I'll pass. It would be ridiculous to celebrate every time someone remembers the existence of a god."

"Oh come on Leona, it's been a while since you've accompanied us to a party"

Falena insisted Leona highly doubts that the other gods would come anyway, he doesn't want to hear Ruggie laugh at the news of a party because of a human quote.

Dinner was over and before Leona could reach his resting place, his previous feelings returned.

Now there were more people talking about him, some curious and others more disinterested.

The lion-like god stopped walking, the conflicting thoughts of whether to go look at these humans or not fighting among themselves.

Apparently, some of these humans didn't seem very friendly towards him.

It would be a matter of time before that would disappear and he would fall into oblivion again.

However, contrary to Leona's thoughts, day after day, a human would return to want to know more about him.

He supposed that on the days when there were more people thinking about him, it was because the human he was thinking about frequently commented on his discoveries with his friends.

Not that he would admit it, but he was starting to get scared that the calming feeling in his chest would stop, that this curious mortal soul would stop being so interested in him.

What made him finally look at this human and give up the fear of oblivion was a prayer.

"Come on Leona, show yourself."

It wasn't a prayer, but it would qualify as one.

Leona was dozing off at the moment you made this unconscious prayer, the lion's eyes opened with the wave of power that ran through his body. Sitting up from where he was lying, Leona looked at his hands and gave a heartfelt laugh.

"How far will humans go for their curiosity?"

Opening a kind of magic bubble, he saw you for the first time.

You were sitting on a chair looking at a thin illuminated box, with some attention the god noticed that it was some kind of research.

He remembers Cheka mentioning long ago about thin boxes that work much like the magic bubble of gods, but less powerful.

He saw you put your head on the table.

"Why can't I find anything, not a single piece of additional information."

When you turned your gaze to the strange box, he saw the information about him disappear and go to Falena.

Your lips pursed in disgust at this action. In retaliation, you sighed and went back to thinking about him.

'Why is it so difficult to find anything about Leona? The few mentions about him oscillate between saying that he was good and evil.'

"Maybe if I…." The human in front of her began to research his temples. Leona doubted that he would find any that were still standing.

All of his temples (which weren't many) were destroyed a long time ago.

The days went by and your improvised requests to know more about him gradually increased your power. You didn't do it on purpose, you just talked to yourself, sometimes and it resulted in a kind of prayer, but it boosted your ego anyway.

He watched your day to day life and saw how you researched countless gods, but you didn't follow any of them.

Apparently you studied in a place that taught about various gods, religions and the history of the world. Interesting to say the least, seeing so many humans willing to learn about different gods and have an open mind to understand the past and present.

Leona liked to help you sometimes. Everything he did you would consider a stroke of luck. For your colleagues, you definitely had a guardian angel.

Leona always laughed when someone said that. You literally had a god who did many things for you. But in return, he always waited for her to seek him out.

It's fair, isn't it? Herbivore!

He helps you in your daily life and in return you ask to know more about him and feed his power.

In case you focused on something else or had another study you wanted to do for fun, Leona would give you some time.

However, if you dared to take too long to go back to researching about him, certain incidents would get in your way and lead you to the book with something about him that was closest.

Nothing too bad, just the wind blowing all your research away, or a heavy rain that would make you go back to the library to avoid getting wet.

When Leona noticed that you were looking for a temple of his near one of Falena or Cheka on the day I was free. He used his magic to change the research on your weird glowing box that you called PC and showed a temple of Farena and Cheka that there was one of his fallen temples nearby.

And maybe some other information that would make you go to him.

Seeing you excited about the trip and hoping that you would find something about Leona only fueled his arrogance.

Sometimes he liked to think of you as a follower and how everyone would react when they saw that someone believed in him again.

"Leona, there better be something about you in this place or I'll strangle you!"

A smile appeared on the lion's face, it was amusing to see a weak and defenseless human like you irritated when you didn't find anything new about him.

"Don't worry Herbivore, you'll find much more than just information!"

English is not my first language, I used Google Translate.

I fixed some mistakes, but there must still be one or two left, sorry about that.

Thanks for reading this far, feel free to say something [I love to talk (◇w◇)].

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still-a-morosexual-help · 11 months

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Love it when characters casually reveal some insane childhood trauma with a nostalgic smile on their face because this is just a normal part of their childhood how fun! to the absolute horror of those around them who are very much in the 'that's not normal what the actual fuck' boat

Okay but here's what makes me tear up:

This conversation happens in a devilgram where Diavolo is picking apples for Barbatos to make an apple pie for him and it cuts to a flashback that shows Diavolo wanted an apple tree to impress his new angel friend and excitedly tells this to Barbatos. Barbatos then helps Diavolo plant an apple tree in the forest

Isn't that rattling your brain!!!? Aren't you foaming at the mouth!?!?!

The Demon King enchanted this forest to be full of things that could hurt and kill his child, all in the name of preparing Diavolo to be a better king

Then Barbatos helps Diavolo plant apple trees in it, because Diavolo wants to share it with their enemy, a gesture of friendship and good will that would eventually bring peace to the three worlds* which in turn helps Diavolo grow towards becoming a better king

Diavolo's father created a deadly survival course for a child so he wouldn't get bored, something that would keep Diavolo away from him, and the man who actually raised Diavolo spent time with Diavolo helping him grow apple trees in it

A labour of love grown and tended to for years, if not centuries, just so Diavolo could give his friend apples (another gesture of love) built upon the soil of something that was meant to push and punish Diavolo into being the ideal ruler

*(over a series of meetings Diavolo & Lucifer become friends -> Lucifer starts questioning things in the Celestial Realm -> Lucifer, pushed by the sentence against Lilith, starts a war in the Celestial Realm -> Lucifer seeks sanctuary in the Devildom -> Diavolo helps Lucifer + reincarnates Lilith -> Lucifer pledges his loyalty to Diavolo + through Lilith's line MC is eventually born -> through MC & the brothers' fates being tied Lucifer accidentally picks MC for the exchange program -> MC showing that people from all three worlds could not only be close friends but family starts mending bridges + MC wanting to stay in the Devildom permanently gets everyone actively pushing for peace leading to them becoming part of the student council/government and challenging the views of the older/more conservative demons -> all this eventually kickstarts both Diavolo & Lucifer's character & relationship development -> Diavolo learns to be a more considerate ruler & person who listens to others instead of immediately jumping in with his own plans & ideas + Lucifer learns to actually push back against Diavolo & not just be his 'Yes Man')

Also this Devilgram is called "The Seven Apples"

and with lines like,

"Still...I hope that all this effort bears fruit, someday"

"With enough care and attention, I'm certain that it shall."

"Ah, well. Good things come to those who wait, and all that."

And talk about the future of the Devildom and how they pick exactly seven apples, the whole tree talk/metaphor is 100% about gaining the friendship & trust of Lucifer and his brothers by putting in the effort, care and attention to one day, years in the future, have seven shining apples with you

BUT, EVEN WITHOUT THAT DOUBLE MEANING,

It's not just a tree.

It's all about love, isn't it and the things we do for the people we love.

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raven-at-the-writing-desk · 5 months

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Ruggie, Trey: More and More

TWST once again picks the most INCRIMINATING villain shots to display in the picture frames 😭 I am BEGGING the museum curator to do better/j

A Tale as Old as Time.

A lion cub, a warthog, and a meerkat.

It was an odd trio, a group of animals that, under normal circumstances, would never be together. Certainly not like this—not grinning, snuggling up with each other. Carnivore, herbivore, omnivore. Sharing the lives they had, joined in heart and in song.

No worries for the rest of their days.

Ruggie snickered behind one hand. Man, ain't that the dream?

"They've got nice smiles."

The hyena's ears perked. His eyes shifted to a Heartslabyul student gazing upon the same painting. Tall, built well, in glasses.

"Come again?"

"Their teeth," Trey clarified, pointing. "You see? They have different shapes based on their diet. Warthogs mainly eat vegetables, so they have strong, flat molars for crushing plants. But lions are carnivores, so their teeth are sharper for slicing through meat. And meerkats--"

"Okay, I get it already! Now quit it, you sound almost as creepy as Rook." Ruggie groaned. "Can't believe you take one look at this and your first thought is what's in their mouths."

"You don't?" The joke fell flat, and Trey let it go "How about you? What's your first thought when you look at this? If I'm remembering correctly, this painting is based on a story from your country. Does it have significance to you?"

"Eh, it’s some story about a warthog and a meerkat coming together to raise a lost cub they found."

"Really." Trey's eyebrows raised. "How did they manage to feed a baby lion? They probably need a lot of protein, and I don't think a warthog and a meerkat could hunt enough for it."

"Nah, they figured something out." He pinched his thumb and index finger together, peering through the small gap between them and right at the vice dorm leader. "Bugs."

"Bugs?!" Trey startled.

"Yup, there's plenty of 'm and they're packed full of protein for a growing young prince.”

“Prince?”

“Did I not mention it before? Turns out that the lion cub was a missing prince, and they had no idea. When the prince was all grown up, he returned to claim his kingdom with the warthog and the meerkat. The animals were able to get over their differences and live together in harmony. It all started with bugs—that’s pretty resourceful, isn’t it?”

"I didn’t think there would be a twist that wild from a story that started with eating bugs. We sometimes eat flowers in the Queendom, but usually as a garnish or for a snack, not for a whole meal. Is it a cultural difference...?"

Ruggie shrugged. "Sometimes you don't have much of a choice in what you eat. If life hands you lemons when you're starving, are you going to turn it down? 'Course not."

I can't afford that kind of luxury.

"Well, when you put it like that..." Trey gave a light laugh. "You're going to make me hungry too."

"I'd kill for a big roast pork right about now. Fat, sweet, and juicy, the meat so tender if falls off the bone once ya sink your teeth into it..." Ruggie drooled at the thought. "Yeah, if you just shoved an apple into the warthog's mouth, glaze it with honey, and slow cook it over a fire, I bet it'd be real tasty."

"It sounds like you’ve always got food on your mind.” Trey folded his arms, lips tugging back into a lopsided smirk. “Kinda gruesome when you talk about the prep work like that though.”

“We wouldn’t have any food if we didn’t hunt and gather. ‘S how the circle of life works.”

His gaze slanted toward the painting of the happy trio. A unification, food shared from the same platter—it sparked some desperate hope in him.

A world where kings and hyenas can be friends… Heh, maybe I’m asking for too much.

But he was greedy like that. Seeking more and more, his hunger never fully satisfied.

Ruggie shook his head, letting dirty blonde locks fall across his face. “Maybe it’s news to you, but beastmen don’t exactly see eye to eye with other beastmen. That’s why it’s practically a miracle that those three get along. It’s a tale they tell us in the Sunset Savanna to remind us of what we could be, united under one true kingdom. It’s just that: a story.”

“It’s a nice story,” Trey said simply. “And it would be even nicer if it came true.”

It would.

“It’ll be a looong time before that happens. It’s about as real as my dreams of a roast pork dinner.”

Ruggie sighed as he drew his arms up, hands resting behind his head. He reclined back in that lazy, devil-may-care pose.

Trey watched him, his mustard yellow eyes shifting slightly. “… Are you baiting me to offer to make you some?”

“What?” The hyena feigned shock. “Me, trying to get my hands on free grub? Nooooo, I’d never!”

Trey stared at him indignantly. “You’re not being very subtle there…”

Ruggie showed his teeth. “Was I supposed to be?”

“Maybe you’d have better luck getting a formal invite from Riddle first. I don’t usually prepare whole hams for a single guest either—it’s usually a group meal, so you’d have to share.”

“Tch. Whatever, can’t blame a hyena for testing out a shortcut, can you?”

“Ahahah… I’m slightly concerned that you’d even attempt to have an entire pig to yourself. Your appetite must be legendary.”

“I’ll take that as a compliment.”

More and more—he wanted it all. Gluttony, a sin to the common man. To him, a desire for something greater than this.

He saw it now, a kingdom built upon the jagged cliffs. His kind and other scorned creatures. creeping out from the darkness and into the moonlight. They all looked to the one that stood far above them, the one that would lead them to that shining future.

Someday, it will come.

Ruggie spun, his back presented to the painting. A spotlight upon the trio, and the shadows closing in on his own face.

Even so, his smile was as big and as bright as ever.

“Nishishishishi! Don’t worry so much, Trey-kun~ Just be happy—hakuna matata!”

#twisted wonderland #twst #Ruggie Bucchi #disney twisted wonderland #disney twst #something no one asked for #Trey Clover #Ruggie birthday takeover #spoilers #twst imagines #twst scenarios #twisted wonderland imagines #twisted wonderland scenarios

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siriusblackloml · 9 months

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just for me - george weasley x reader smut (PART 3)

𝙥𝙖𝙞𝙧𝙞𝙣𝙜: george weasley x fem!reader

𝙬𝙤𝙧𝙙 𝙘𝙤𝙪𝙣𝙩: 11.7k

𝙖𝙣𝙤𝙣 𝙧𝙚𝙦𝙪𝙚𝙨𝙩: “i was wondering if you could maybe write anything abt virgin killer!george weasley?? like im sorry hes the finest mf around ik he gets MAD hoes so when he finally acknowledges this preppy, nice and innocent mc he jus knows he has to ruin her"

𝙨𝙪𝙢𝙢𝙖𝙧𝙮: he fucked up. quite horribly, too. george swooped in, made his move, and tried to get on his life like he always does after he's finished with a random hookup. now you were avoiding him and pretty much making him live in agony as a result of his shitty actions. george will soon come to realize you had a much larger impact on his life than he would ever imagine.

𝙬𝙖𝙧𝙣𝙞𝙣𝙜𝙨: swearing, a LOT of angst

𝙖𝙪𝙩𝙝𝙤𝙧'𝙨 𝙣𝙤𝙩𝙚: i’m still not done with this series but instead of keeping it three parts, i decided to add a fourth :) i hope you all enjoy this and please forgive me for the very long wait. i’ve had so much going on irl. part four is coming soon!

part one ┊ part two ┊part three ┊pt. 4 coming soon!

George had a funny little hop in his step as he walked through the grass. Not that it was truly intentional. He was just…very, very happy. There was too much adrenaline fogging his brain to really comprehend anything in this moment of time. He was acting as though he hadn’t just fucked you senseless in the field of grass outside the school.

He felt proud of himself. He thought that this moment was worth all the celebrating in the world. All of his hard work had built up towards this moment and it paid off so much. You were absolutely amazing. Actually, he wondered to himself, was it possible to say that you were perfect? If he had to be honest with himself, you were everything he wanted in a girl.

Physically, of course. It’s not like he was looking to start a relationship or anything. Sure, he just told you that he would see you around, but he had to use that more as a lie to try and leave the precious moment between you two on a positive note. False hope, deception, bullshit, call it anything you want, George didn’t regret it. He knew that if he just walked away he probably would have left you crying right there on the spot. He’s not sure he would ever be able to forgive himself if he did that.

At the end of the day, George knew better than to actually see you again. That’s why from here on out, it would be nothing more than talking in class. If he even brought himself to do that.

George couldn’t shake the smile from his face as he walked into the Gryffindor common room. The atmosphere was warm and inviting, contrasting the chilly breeze outside. Not that he was cold; the boy was still quite feverish from how hard he had just fucked you. Students were chatting amongst one another about their day and what was to come for the rest of the night. George noticed some students who were admirably trying to complete homework in the midst of the constant chatter. He thought of you for a split second. Remembering all the time you spend studying for homework and exams. He literally interrupted you studying earlier, but you didn’t seem to mind.

Those thoughts of you were immediately discarded once he noticed a familiar duo in the corner of the room arguing with one another. It was George’s younger brother, Ron, and his friend Hermoine. What the two of them were arguing about was unbeknownst to him, but George caught the eye of someone sitting in a chair eating candy, watching the scene unfold like it was a drama. It was Fred, his fiery-red haired twin, who was popping the sweet treats into his mouth like he was eating popcorn at the movie theater. It must have been very entertaining watching Ron and Hermoine argue, as Fred couldn’t seem to pry his eyes off the show in front of him.

George walks up to Fred and snaps his fingers. He immediately catches the attention of Fred, who boggles at him as if to ask, what the hell do you want? George motions for the boy to follow him. Fred gets up from his seat and follows George up the flight of stairs towards the empty dormitories. George seemingly couldn’t break the smile on his face so Fred immediately knew what was going on.

As soon as they were out of earshot of other people, Fred asked George, “So? Did it finally happen?”

George nods his head excitedly and eagerly answers, “Yes! It did!”

The twin embraces his brother with a cheeky clap of hand that morphed into a side hug. He was obviously very proud of George for his achievement. It’s not every day you take your classmate's virginity in the middle of a grassy field. Not that Fred really needed to know that last small detail.

“I can’t believe you popped her cherry. I didn’t think she was ever going to budge.” Fred shakes his head in disbelief. The brother was referring to the fact he knew of your innocence. George remembers back to the day his twin told him about how you were positively a virgin. He could have sworn he melted on the spot from the newfound information. It was at that moment he knew he needed to be the one to ruin your innocence.

And innocent you were. Well, for the most part, anyway. Your mouth depicted otherwise given all the profanity you were throwing at George. He couldn’t get over how mouthy you were during the entire session. The pathetic begging, the whining, the swearing. It was like heaven to his ears. It only made him want to drill his cock inside your pretty pussy even harder. Which he did, of course, and he loved watching the way your face would contort into pleasure at every thrust.

Fred clapped his brother’s shoulder, pulling George from his daydreaming. He said in a cheerful tone, “Good for you, mate. So when are you seeing her again?”

Fred’s brother immediately scoffs at the question. George thinks to himself, as if that’s happening. He had a very set rule for himself which was so straightforward it would take an absolute idiot to not understand. This easy rule was simple to follow; he didn’t give any of his hookups a second chance. They were a one and one time only situation. George was afraid that if he were to consistently see the same girl, he would give the impression that he wanted things to develop into something more. Of course he did like the girls, but it was more so for their physical appearance over their personality. Not that yours was bad, he actually quite enjoyed talking to you.

Maybe even a little more than any other girl. You did leave his heart fluttering every now and then, which was strange for George to understand because it had never happened before. The boy shakes his head. He can’t keep thinking about you. No girl had ever left him so flustered before and he was not about to let that ruin his night of celebration. Celebrating you, of course. Or more so, the dirty act you two shared.

To avoid giving you any kind of false hope, George plans to keep to himself from here on out. George tells his brother, “No, I don’t want her to think I’m, like, into her, know what I mean?”

Fred shrugs out of confusion and raises an eyebrow, immediately striking back with, “Well, I kinda figured that’s what you wanted.”

George’s heart stops beating for just a split second. As if something shocked his entire body. What was Fred implying? Why would he assume that of his brother knowing his reputation? Hell, Fred has encouraged George in the past to avoid being with a girl more than one time to avoid the start of a relationship. Fred must know deep down that you weren’t any different from the rest of the girls George had been with…right?

George narrows his eyes at Fred and asks, “What do you mean?”

“Don’t you like her? I thought…well, I guess I was wrong.” Fred trails off as he notices George seemed very tense.

He was tense, and for good reason. George was nearly offended that his brother would ever assume that of him. He never broke the cycle in the past to see a girl more than once, why would he do it now?

But then again, why would Fred figure that in the first place? Was George doing something specific that would have implied that idea? Other than frequently talking to Y/N in class, calling her cute, and….no, any guy can do that and it doesn’t mean he wants to drop everything and date the girl right that second. Plus, George only hung out with you to get closer…obviously. Nothing more than just that. Fred was just jumping to conclusions. Conclusions he had no business assuming in the first place.

George stays silent and avoids the lingering gaze of his twin. He turns away from Fred as an indication that he no longer wanted to talk, to which his brother complied almost immediately. Fred left the room without much of anything else to say. Once George heard the door shut close, he walked across the bedroom towards a long floor length mirror to look at his disheveled appearance.

His clothes were untidy from the aftermath that was you. George rather liked this sight of his unkempt appearance knowing it was because of your bloody sex. He smirked to himself as he adjusted his clothes, tucking his shirt into his trousers and fixing his tie. Just looking at his clothes reminded him of everything with you.

The sweetness of your moans, the tightness of your wet cunt, the way your face looked underneath his power. In the midst of him reminiscing, he thought back to the first time he ever saw you in class. That pretty girl was so far gone now. The girl he first met was completely different from the girl he just saw in the field. Her innocence was gone, stolen from her, in a way that was rough and possibly even catastrophic.

The girl George knew first was too sweet for her own good. He almost…missed it. The way you blushed so easily from any of his flirty comments, or the little gasps that escaped your mouth from every tiny brush of his hand.

These memories started to flash across the boy’s mind before he could even process them all. The countless times he would flirt with you behind Snape’s back, your sneaky giggles to avoid catching attention from the professor, all the times you would have to help him with his homework because he was absolutely clueless. The way he would glance at your hair because you always styled them in the cutest clips…or the way he would stare at your face because you were absolutely beautiful.

Then again, George loved staring at your face when you were underneath him, writhing in pleasure from the force of his cock. He needed to remind himself that whatever innocent girl he first met was far gone now. He destroyed her, deflowered her, anything he could think of, he did it. And shouldn’t he be proud of himself for that?

At this moment, George heard his stomach start to grumble. He realized that he had not eaten anything since earlier this morning and was quite hungry. George finishes fixing his clothes and grabs his robe, trying to ignore the thoughts flooding his mind of how he tied a robe to a fucking tree just an hour earlier.

Within minutes, he found himself going downstairs into the common room and finding a group of his friends and brothers already planning to march towards the Great Hall for dinner. George immediately tags along, jumping into conversation as if he had been there the whole time. As the group of boys wandered down hallways and waltzed around cold corridors, they would joke about anything and everything possible. George loves these nights with his friends where nothing else matters but how much fun they’re having. His mind had barely any focus on you anymore.

However, that did not last very long. Once George arrived at the Great Hall, he couldn’t help but steal a glance towards the table you would typically sit for meals. Your seat was vacant, though. Completely empty while the remainder of your friends sat in their own respective spots, chatting as if nothing was wrong. Clearly there was something wrong; you weren’t here for dinner.

George thought of this as strange. He assumed that enough time had passed that you would have already come back to the school, gotten cleaned up, and would be coming downstairs for your meal. Maybe you were running late, he thought to himself.

He shrugs his shoulders and turns back towards his friends, cracking joke after joke that erupted the entire group of boys into massive fits of laughter. Even though George was having a good time, his mind couldn’t stay focused on his friends for long.

Every few minutes he’d get the urge to see if you were walking in the room. He’d frequently look towards the grand doors, walking students flood in and out, but never would he spot your cute hairclips amongst the crowd of people. He would even look back at your spot at the table. Ten minutes had passed, then it was twenty, now it was nearing thirty, George still couldn’t find you.

Was it possible that you just stayed in the field after George left? He wondered this to himself, biting his lip in frustration because all he wanted to know was that you were okay. Why? He didn’t have the answer for that. But as long as he was able to see you, that’s all that mattered to George. Where on earth had you gone? There were multiple questions scattered across the boy’s mind and he hated not knowing anything.

Sitting in the Great Hall trying to chase for an answer in his mind was giving George enough frustration to leave the group of friends early. He complained of being tired, to which his friends all chuckled deeply knowing why he would have been so exhausted (Fred’s jaw nearly dropped to the floor when he realized his brother had sex in a field).

The boy left his group of friends to wander the hallways of Hogwarts. He flew up a flight of stairs to get to the second floor, maneuvering his way through a crowd of people to try and find a very particular window. It was one that overlooked the territory surrounding Hogwarts. It was an important window to him as it was pointed in the direction of the same tree you would have been sitting under. George secretly hoped he would be able to see a tiny, black dot under this tree, indicating that you had never left your spot after all.

Upon arrival at this windowsill that George had been desperately trying to look for, he peered outside only to see nothing. There was not one black speck amongst the green grass that would have implied you were still studying your materials. This meant you left the tree long ago, that you were probably wandering the school now doing Godric knows what.

Why did this leave George feeling…uneasy? His heart dropped when he realized that you were no longer outside. He hated this feeling because it was completely new to him. It also brought on an array of questions, the most common one that crossed his mind being, why on earth does he care so much about a girl he hooked up with? Why was he so worried? Why did he hope to find you so desperately? It wasn’t like he was planning on talking to you, or anything more than that really.

George went to sleep that night with you on his mind. It was hard to fall asleep in the first place, however. He was tossing and turning for an hour straight trying not to worry about your current whereabouts. Unfortunately, George didn’t sleep long either.

He’d wake up just a few hours into the night from a nightmare. It was a dream in which he lost you forever.

»——•——«

The next day…

»——•——«

George felt a massive shift in the atmosphere the moment he woke up. He had a weird gut feeling about today, mostly because he was worried about where you’d gone last night. However, his worries would only worsen upon his first period class.

You didn’t show up. To be more specific, you didn’t show up to Professor Snape’s class, which is a huge no-no in not only the professor’s book, but your own as well. You’d never missed class before as far as George was aware. Having to miss any kind of class nearly disgusted you, and you were for sure always present in Snape’s class given the consequences that would likely follow. The professor was keen on giving detention just for missing one class period. Not that you would probably earn one since you were his star student.

What on earth would have caused you to miss class? George wondered if there was a sort of emergency that you had to attend to, but his gut told him otherwise. His stomach felt like there was a knot in it the moment he walked into the room and didn’t see you. He had already felt uneasy just during the walk to the classroom.

George didn’t see you in the hallway like he usually would in the mornings. He silently hoped and wished it was only because you had already arrived to class early, or maybe it was because you happened to be running late. Even if that was the case, he still felt weird about it because you were always to arrive at class at a very particular time.

The boy started catching on that you would try and time your walk in the hallway so that the two of you would arrive at the doorway nearly at the exact same time. George never made a comment about this to you; he secretly thought it was adorable that you were so head over heels for him that you would go to such lengths to be sure you both arrived at the same time.

And here he was, reminiscing those memories. They all felt lightyears away now. He took advantage of those days. The ones where he could admire you walking down the hallway in your cute skirt and hairclips, then he got to wink at you during class at random intervals. A million questions raced through his mind. So much so, that he couldn’t focus on a single word that came out of Snape’s mouth. Not that he usually paid much attention anyway. He would always be too distracted by your beauty.

Amongst the million questions that ran through his head, one question continued to linger on George’s mind while he sat in class; had he ruined things between you two?

He never asked himself this kind of question before because it has never been an issue in the past. He moved on easily every single time he had been with a girl, why couldn’t he let you go?

What caused this to start? His infatuation with you, that is. Was it just because you guys talked frequently during class? Well that couldn’t be all, there had been times George hooked up with girls he knew for years and never felt this way before. Was it only because he knew you were a virgin? While that factor going into sex with you was very exciting, it wouldn’t be enough for him to be this obsessed with your unknown whereabouts.

George tried finding something that would have sparked his sudden interest in you, when his heart dropped in the middle of a thought. The realization hits him like a brick and his breath is immediately knocked out of his lungs. The past day has been spent worrying not only about where you were, but just you in general. Absolutely nothing else mattered in the world but you.

While George wasn’t the sharpest tool in the box, he didn’t need a genius to tell him that he was falling for you. That realization alone was enough to shake him to his core. It was as though everything in his brain had shut off completely, all except that circuit that left his mind running on loop thinking about you and you only. And maybe it wasn’t exactly love that he was feeling, but it was definitely…something. It was the sort of “something” that made George want to drop everything he was doing just to be with you. Because even if it wasn’t love that he was experiencing, the boy knew he was feeling something intense for you and needed to share that with you as soon as possible.

Given he was in quite possibly the most boring classroom of all, George didn’t even give his plan a second thought. He collected his belongings and shoved them into his bag, got up from his desk, and exited the room without a word. The only thing on his mind was finding you.

With a rapidly beating heart and sweaty palms, George started to pace the hallways in hopes he would randomly catch sight of you around a corridor. When that plan failed, he stood still for a few minutes to try and pinpoint exactly where you could have been. While it was possible that you were simply hiding in your house dormitory from the rest of the world, George played with the idea that you were possibly hiding in the library. The only reason he could think of such a place was not only because he knew how studious you were, it was the only other location that you two shared.

It was really only that, the classroom, and that damn field. Having to think about the field burned a massive hole in George’s heart. He knew now, after some reflection, that what he did was awfully wrong. How he didn’t realize it before was beyond him. He was too caught up with his ego and so used to dropping a girl as quick as he saw her, he assumed everything would be the same when it came to you.

You were different though. George knew that now. And having to think back to the way he used you in that field yesterday made him gulp hard. He wondered, why did he put you through that? He felt like complete shit now.

All he could think about was you. How you must have felt about all this. Surely enough, you must have felt used. You didn’t deserve that. George stormed down the hallway, ears ringing with anticipation to find you as soon as possible.

»——•——«

You had been sitting in the library by yourself. Well, obviously you had been. Everyone else was in their respective classes at the time. Not you, though. It was just too much to bear right now with how fresh yesterday’s situation was.

The fact that you were skipping class made you feel so beyond guilty. For a second, you thought you must have been insane to even consider the idea in the first place. You’d never skipped class before, so going through with the last minute plan was enough to make you bite your nails out of anxiety. However, nothing could compare to the feeling that would have hit you if you had to sit through class next to George Weasley.

Just that thought alone made you sick to your stomach. It would have been a million times worse than what you were feeling now. You knew that you couldn’t skip the next class period with him, however even if you got a chance to skip today, you’d take it. You couldn’t bear looking at his face…as if nothing ever happened between you two.

Was this what you were made for? To be used by men? That’s all you felt right now; used.

If you had the chance, you would have gone back in time and changed the narrative entirely. You would have stolen that freaking time-turner from Professor McGonagall just to stop yourself from getting hypnotized by his charm. George Weasley was reckless and it affected you too much.

You were careful before you met the boy. Very cautious, you kept to yourself. Never once did you ever consider lusting after a boy the way you did for George, dreaming up a fantasy where the two of you were happily ever after. And now everything in your life is crashing down all around you. As if you’ve lost complete control.

You were as reckless as he was.

He sucked you into this kind of void and it left you unable to breathe, unable to move, unable to think straight. That’s why you were hiding in the library. If the thought of George was making you feel this uneasy, you couldn’t even fathom what would have happened today if you walked into class and sat right next to him.

As if nothing had happened.

You wondered if you would have been able to contain yourself if you did end up going to class anyway. You’re not sure if you would have cried, screamed at him, or just stayed silent. You were not one to really stand up for yourself, but then again, so much has changed about yourself in the last few weeks you weren’t sure if that was so true anymore.

The library was dead silent besides your occasional turn of the pages in your book. You busied yourself by catching up on some reading you were meant to read yesterday. While you did your best to read the book last night in bed, it was quite difficult to focus with the amount of tears that welled up in your eyes. Thankfully, you were a bit more composed today and felt confident enough to tackle a couple chapters during this quiet time.

As you sat silently, taking in the information about an aging potion, you could hear a door open in the distance of the library. The noise was followed by footsteps that increased in volume, indicating that someone was definitely walking in your direction. You can’t help but look up at the noise, half expecting to see either one of your girlfriends or even Snape himself wondering why you weren’t in class.

However, nothing could have prepared you for the boy who was walking towards you. It was George, of course. Because who else would it be at this time of day?

Immediately your eyes widen as your stomach sinks. It felt like the entire world was falling apart around you in an instant. You could have sworn that your heart skipped multiple beats in a row. Just the sight of George was nearly giving you a heart attack. What on earth did he have to say? Better yet, what were you going to say? Was he even worth the talk?

Gulping silently, you just watch as he approaches you in the dead silent room. He seemed to slow down his pace the moment you two made eye contact. As much as you wished it would have been enough to stop him dead in his tracks, he kept walking towards you. He adjusts his tie and clears his throat as casually as possible.

Without asking for permission, George pulls out the chair to your right and seats himself. He jumps right into a sort of interrogation, asking you, “Why weren’t you in class?”

You have to tell yourself to act like you don’t care that he’s here. Obviously he didn’t care about you enough yesterday to stay with you in that field, or even talk to you in general about what you two were. You were just a toy for him to fuck and get over in a matter of minutes. Keeping this in mind, and partially taking notice of the anger that was clearly bubbling inside you, you sneer at George and mutter under your breath, “I didn’t feel like it.”

Not your strongest moment, but it was blunt and rude. You figured it would get the point across that you weren’t very happy with him. So much for not letting it seem like it bothered you. You realized it was a bit harder to hold back your emotion than you originally thought. That doesn’t mean you’re going to beat yourself up over this, though. You would much rather seem angry in front of George than sad or depressed. The last thing you want to do is bawl in front of him.

Did he really deserve to even know that you were angry with him though? You started to regret even talking to him in the first place. Too many questions were swirling around your mind for you to find focus. It made your head pound with pain.

“I need to ask you something.” George tells you while awkwardly biting his lip and shifting uncomfortably in his chair. He starts to pull hair away from his face and run his fingers through his hair. It takes a lot of power to try not to notice how attractive he looked whenever he played with his hair like that.

Your back straightens and you instinctively lean in towards him, eager to hear what he has to say. You respond in a dry tone, “What is it?”

Suddenly, George is leaning forward and grabbing you by the chin with his fingers, forcing your eyes to take in his weary face. You gasp quietly, heart feeling like it was being stabbed, it was throbbing so hard.

He asks you in a frantic voice, “Things feel different for you, too, don’t they?”

You raise an eyebrow, confused. Things? Between the two of you? Well…of course they were different. Before yesterday, you two were just classmates that would flirt. Now, you didn’t even know whatever “this” was. It was disgusting, that’s what you thought to yourself. It left you feeling used.

So what the hell was he implying? You let him hold your chin a while longer and ask softly, “What do you mean?”

George blinks once, twice, three times before he gulps hard.

“I-Well-…I don’t know…” He starts to sputter out anything that comes to mind. He can’t seem to explain himself fast enough, or find the words in general.

You pull away from his grasp, narrowing your eyes as you pick apart his act. This was all fake, wasn’t it? Just another fucking plan to woo you? He would act all pitiful and sad to express how much he didn’t mean it, all just to see you naked again. That’s exactly what this was.

“You’re just trying to get in my pants again, aren’t you?” You snap at George with a nasty tone. You stand up from your chair dramatically, hearing the scrape of wood against stone echo throughout the empty library.

George stands up nearly as quick as you do the moment the words are leaving your mouth. He tries to extend his arms out to grasp you, but misses as you take a step back. Throwing everything in your backpack as fast as you possibly can, you notice George in the corner of your eye starting to inch closer to you again with a nervous voice, “W-What?! No! Y/N, I swear-”

You throw all your books in your bag and slam the chair into the desk, snapping at George with a newfound fury you hadn’t realized was inside you all this time. You tell him, “Do me a favor George; leave me the FUCK alone.”

It was obvious that the sentence alone was enough of a threat to the boy. The anger laced in your tongue hits George like a million knives, putting him in his place immediately. He falls silent immediately, watching you walk away from the scene without another word.

However, what he didn’t see was the tears building up along your lash line. As much as you hated his guts, you were still falling madly in love with the idiot. You hated yourself as much as you hated him.

»——•——«

Two days later…

»——•——«

George knew you couldn’t avoid him forever, but he didn’t realize just how damn sneaky you could really be. After the horrific interaction in the library just days before, the boy wouldn’t see you again until the next session in Professor Snape’s potion class. He no longer saw you in the hallways or the Great Hall. You obviously made a substantial deal to be sure that there would be little to no chance of ever seeing you outside of class again.

Not seeing you for days straight made George feel even worse. He wasn’t sure if he should have looked forward to potions or not, assuming that you would be there of course. Sure enough, you were present in class, but it did not make the situation any better. When George walked into the room, he immediately spotted you at the front of the classroom speaking to Professor Snape in hushed whispers. Whatever was being discussed, Snape looked very concerned.

Such an indication did not stop George from calling out your name. In a loud voice, he said across the room, “Hey, Y/N!”

He wasn’t even quite sure why he said your name, if he had to be honest with himself. It kind of slipped out before he had time to process it all. Maybe his gut thought that trying to talk to you in class was going to go better than how the discussion went down in the library a couple days prior. Perhaps the crowd surrounding you two would force you to act a bit nicer; allow him to get his words out and express his feelings about everything.

Both you and Snape turn to look at George, who is awkwardly waving and sheepishly smiling. But in an instant you shoot him a glare. Even Professor Snape was scowling at him. While this was a normal occurrence for George in front of just about any teacher, it seemed that Snape was going out of his way to make his scowl even deeper and nastier than usual.

Right away, you had seated yourself in a chair closest to the professor’s desk. Keeping your back to George, he was forced to position his gaze back on his professor. Snape’s dirty look did not go away as he gave out instructions. “George, you’ll be sitting in this seat for the rest of the year.”

The teacher walked George to his new spot, which was the furthest point from your new seat at the front of the classroom. He was all the way in the back. This kind of seating chart is a great opportunity for a prankster like George to unleash his full potential on the entire class, but he couldn’t even relish in this once in a lifetime lucky chance he’d been granted. The boy felt everything opposite of that expected feeling.

George’s stomach felt like it had dropped to the floor. He realized very quickly that you had purposely asked for this separation from him. Whatever you told Snape, it was to avoid having any further conversation with George during class.

He was convinced he was going to lose his mind over you. He had to get a hold of you, and soon.

»——•——«

Many weeks later...

»——•——«

You thought you were going to lose your mind having to avoid the boy like this, day in and out. At this point, it was becoming a routine. One that you had to follow religiously in order to avoid any kind of possible conflict with George.

Of course, deep down you want to listen to what he has to say. You know it might be valuable in a sense…but at the same time, he deceived you once, he could easily do it again. How were you supposed to know he wasn’t trying to apologize just to appeal to your sensitive side, only to try and slide into your pants once again? Something like this was too difficult to decipher. Therefore, you were much more comfortable just glancing at George from a far distance. He didn’t deserve to talk to you…as much as you wanted to talk to him.

One night, as you are exiting the Great Hall after eating a delicious meal, you begin to make your way to the dormitories. Your mind is too preoccupied on the immense amount of homework you have later tonight to hear the sound of footsteps following close behind you. It’s not until the fiery-red haired boy is in your peripheral vision that you realize someone was near you.

In a matter of seconds, your heart drops into your stomach without even having to look George directly in the face. He had your full attention now without even having to try, let alone look at him.

While your heart was pounding out of your chest, you tried your best to focus more on how annoying it was becoming that George wasn’t going to let you go so easily. Why did he want to talk to you so badly anyway? Just to have sex again? With an eye roll, you pick up the pace and start to walk faster down the hallway. You had hoped that the silent treatment would work enough to scare him away.

George attaches himself to your side immediately and says, “Y/N, stop, please. I want to talk to you.”

Keeping your head forward, he is only met with silence. Obviously angered by your immature attitude, he scoffs under his breath and reveals a nasty look on his face; as if that was meant to make you feel bad for him.

It was amusing to see him get his knickers in a twist just from not speaking. It was almost hard to hold back from smirking in front of the boy. However, deep down you were still just as scared of talking to George as you were most days since everything occurred. He just had this kind of effect on you where it felt like no matter how angry you acted around him, your heart was still soft for his stupid antics.

You didn’t dare reveal that to him; you were still recovering from the massive damage he had done to your emotional state. You shuffle past George as fast as possible, still refusing to make any sort of eye contact with him.

Eventually, he jumps right in front of you, preventing you from moving anymore. You jump from the action and immediately snap, “What on earth do you want with me, George?”

He takes a step forward to close the gap, his eyes staring deeply into your own. He starts to stumble over his words, “G-Godric, Y/N, I didn’t think you’d ever…I just wanted to…bloody hell, I don’t know what I’m trying to say.”

“Then don’t bother, okay?” You tell him, moving around his figure to get away from the conversation. It’s hard to believe he has anything worthwhile to tell you in the first place. However, there’s still a small sliver of hope that resides in your being, and it’s just enough to tell George, “I’ll see you around.”

You’re not sure what you mean when you say this. You figure that maybe it’s enough to keep you two on good terms. He didn’t really deserve more than that though. He was an ass and literally used you. But your heart ached for him nonetheless. You were always going to miss him, so why bother keeping up this anger front for the rest of the school year? It was killing you just to do it right now.

The boy doesn’t take long to get the hint. He stands still and merely watches you walk away. You can practically feel his eyes bearing a hole through the back of your skull from how hard he was staring.

Later that night, while you are lying in bed struggling to sleep thanks to all that was on your mind, you thought back to earlier. What was it he wanted to say to you? Why was it so urgent?

Curiosity would eventually kill the cat.

»——•——«

It's been months since that day in the field. You would still go out of your way to avoid George, and he has slowly stopped trying to make conversation with you entirely. Your heart ached for him each and every day, though. You missed having those silly conversations in class, waving to him in the Great Hall, and so much more. Part of you was even missing all those times he would desperately try to get your attention only for you to ignore it. You thought of it for the better, but looking back on it all, had that really been the best choice?

You can hear his little friend group whisper among themselves whenever you and George are ever in the same room with one another. There was no doubt they knew about everything that happened. Which only made you feel more like shit; how dare they know you lost your virginity to a classmate you had fallen so deeply for. Not once had you ever felt so humiliated before. This was not how you expected your last year at Hogwarts to go. You anticipated much more out of this year. Laughing, studying, maybe some crying here and there, but not over a boy who used you for sex. That was the last thing you ever considered to happen to you.

In a weird sort of way, George felt much like the yin to your yang. The way the two of you could come together and have so much fun despite your differing personalities always blew you away. He completed the missing pieces within you. It was an act that you didn’t think was possible, especially knowing it was someone you met so recently. That being said, you can’t help but miss those moments of bliss with one another.

Just the thought of him makes you shudder. Not out of disgust, but due to the ache in your heart that desired more from him. If anything, it was likely to be from the immense guilt and shame that clouded your every being since the day everything happened with George. Why on earth would you miss someone like him when he was so mean?

It is winter break now. A large majority of students had left to go home, but you were staying at Hogwarts. The last few days were spent reading books you meant to catch up on ages ago. You had to occasionally flit around the hallways in order to avoid the Weasleys. It was so convenient that they happened to be here during the holidays at the same time as you. But at this point in the year, you had started to grow used to it all. It’s all you could do in order to “cope” with the sadness that hung heavy in your heart.

You were in the library again, turning page after page in your book. You were slowly catching yourself starting to space out. Rightly so, as it had been a couple hours of sitting here and you were slowly growing hungry. You could barely focus when your stomach continuously growls.

As you start to put away your book in your bag, alongside anything else you had pulled out, you could hear footsteps walking past you. You didn’t think much of it until you heard a familiar voice.

“Hello, Y/N.” George says.

A chill runs up your spin, hair standing up on the back of your neck. Goosebumps trail up and down your arms as your throat runs dry. If it wasn’t obvious you were nervous before, it was now. Your eyes shot up towards the boy, watching him stand near you with a soft smile and blushed cheeks. This hadn’t been how you anticipated the night to go at all, but you couldn’t bear to embarrass yourself any longer.

You muster up enough courage to respond back. “Hey, George.”

“How are you doing?” He replies, watching you closely as you continue to put away your belongings into your bag at a slow pace. Your hands were shaking slightly from the anxiety coursing through your veins. If you hadn’t known any better, you’d wager that George was in the exact same boat as you were.

He was clutching a couple books tight to his chest, finger tapping anxiously along the spines. He kept swaying back and forth, biting his lip and avoiding eye contact on occasion.

It had been so long since the two of you last spoke. You knew deep down you had been wanting this for ages, missing these small conversations. Maybe it wouldn’t hurt to be civil, at least this once, you wondered to yourself. You had never held a grudge for so long before, and you weren’t about to let it continue. Maybe this was your chance to let bygones be bygones and let George know that you’ve moved on (that’s a big lie, but what he doesn’t have to know won’t hurt him).

So, you decide to interact with him some more. You tell him, “I’ve been doing fine.”

George cracks that gorgeous smile of his and nods his head. He chimes in, “Good, good, I’m happy to hear that.”

You decide not to comment on that. However, there is no denying that little explosion of butterflies in your stomach. Well, that and the loud rumble that follows.

Your stomach growls out of hunger once again, clearly indicating between both parties that you were getting hungrier by the second. Cheeks red from embarrassment, you try to save yourself by saying, “I’m heading to the Great Hall. Just wanted to get in some light reading before supper.”

“Can I walk with you?” George asks as soon as you’re finished speaking.

His voice was soft despite the request filling you with fear in an instant. You did want to walk with him, but what were his intentions? The prospect of having to venture anywhere with George at your side was slightly concerning since you hadn’t done so since…well, before everything.

You shoot him a slight glare, immediately questionable about why he wanted to. He picked up on this, placing his hands in a defensive position and exclaiming, “I’m going there already! I was just about to leave for supper myself. I figured if you were going, maybe we could walk together. That’s all I wanted.”

Maybe it’s the innocence of his request, or those stupid puppy dog eyes, but you’re not entirely opposed to the idea. Perhaps it wasn’t such a bad idea to walk with him if that’s all that would come out of it in the end. Nothing more, nothing less. You knew eventually this would likely happen anyway. You couldn’t avoid him forever.

Simultaneously, you found yourself wondering if you were being foolish to even entertain the possibility of this. Only an idiot would want to walk with the same man who used her for sex; but here you were, being as foolish as ever. Due to his undeniable appeal and practically begging to walk with you, you’re giving him permission to be in your company. While your eyes were darting around anywhere in the room but George, you tell him, “That’s fine, you can join me.”

Walking out of the library with George next to your side feels strange. At the same time, you feel even weirder for thinking that. At some point during the school year, this felt so completely normal to you. Now it was all just an out of body experience. As if the two of you were strangers all over again. Your heart was beating so rapidly out of your chest you thought you were going to have a heart attack.

The hallways leading to the Great Hall were completely empty. It was likely that whatever remaining students that were on campus were eating at the moment. The echo of your and George’s footsteps, alongside the dim lighting, made the situation all the more stressful for you. It was like you were stuck in place despite moving closer and closer to your destination.

After a minute of walking and absolutely no words spoken, George breaks the silence. He asks, “Can I speak to you for just a moment?”

“Is it about all that happened between us?” You wonder, your throat constricts the more you talk. You’re sure you are on the verge of tears just from the thought of it all. However, maybe this was the closure that you needed. Maybe this is what you needed to move forward and get on with your life without worrying about some red-haired boy running amuck in the school hallways and classrooms.

He clears his throat, “Yeah, it’s about that. I have something really important I want to tell you, Y/N.”

You internally go back and forth about whether or not you want to hear it, wondering if what he has to say will truly have any meaning at all. George dislikes the long pause it takes for you to say anything. He steps in front of you and blocks your path. He places his hands on your shoulders to prevent you from being able to walk away.

You huff and puff out of annoyance, sneering at him to say, “Let go of me, George.”

“Y/N, please, I just-” He tightens his grip on your shoulders. This causes you to shake from his hold, just barely escaping and nearly dropping your bag in the process. You’re growing more and more irritated by the way he was acting. Why was he being so handsy with you?

You snap at him out of annoyance, “Why the fuck do you need to touch me to tell me something? Just get on with it already-”

George stomps his foot on the ground, the loud sound echoing the walls of the empty hallway. He yells, “Listen to me!”

For the first time in a while, you finally stare into his eyes. Genuinely taking in his appearance and the emotion that has struck his face. It was at this moment you realized just how…damaged he was. He was on the verge of tears and his frail body was shaking from fighting back the floodgates in his eyes. Your heart feels like it’s breaking in two just from the sight. As much as he frustrates you, seeing this side of him makes your stomach sink.

George frustratingly runs his fingers through his hair as if to try and get a better grip on the reality that was taking place before him. He frowns deeply and tries to find his words. He stumbles over his words multiple times, “I-I just felt like…I didn’t think…you-you have to believe me, Y/N, I-I would never-”

You take this as an opportunity to reverse the roles, softly placing a hand on his shoulder as if to silently offer his support. Obviously his words and frustrations were weighing him down, and if there was anything you could do to encourage him to get his worries off his chest, maybe this was it. Just a small act of kindness. He was so desperately trying to hold you in place before this, he must have not realized he was really the one who needed to be weighed down in the first place. Otherwise his mind was going to run a million miles an hour and he would get nowhere with his speech.

You want him to know you’re willing to listen now, to give him a chance. All he wants is to be heard. In your own way, you wanted that too.

You wished you had been able to go back in time to just take things slower with George, to have been able to say no to his lust and just try to take things slower with him…if that was even possible. You wondered if George would have stopped talking to you if he realized you weren’t so easy to crack. Then again, you always felt that there was a spark between the two of you. Maybe at the time, if you had given yourself a moment to really speak your mind, he would have respected your wishes and things would have remained the same between you two. There is no way of knowing now. All you can do to make up for the horrible experience is to hear what he has to say.

The act gives George a chance to catch his breath. You watch his chest rise and fall multiple times, listening to the way he calms himself with a simple breathing exercise. He sighs and drops his shoulders, and you mimic his actions to try and ease your own anxieties. This was not going to be an easy conversation by any means, but it was about time it happened.

Seeing him slowly grow more comfortable seemed to ease the tension. George found himself breathing properly again and nodding his head, as if slowly trying to get back to the point he was originally trying to make in the first place.

You’re growing anxious to hear what he has to say. You pull your hand away from his shoulder and cross your arms, watching the way he shifts his body weight back and forth on the balls of his feet.

After what feels like a million years, he finally confesses. “I am so, so sorry for the way I treated you earlier this year. You didn’t deserve that at all. I have no excuse for my behavior. I don’t know why, but for such a long time now I have gone through girl after girl and never felt anything quite nearly the same as I do for you. You had such an impact on me…Godric, I sound so cringey saying that, but it’s the truth. I really do like you, Y/N. Everything about you and not just your body. I am so sorry for all that I did.”

The moment he finishes with his speech, your ears start to ring. You feel as though his words have stunned you. He liked you…for you? Then why did he do the things that he did?

You raise an eyebrow and look him up and down, as if you were a predator sizing up your meal. You ask him, “Then why did you do it? You always knew I was a virgin, isn’t that why you started talking to me in the first place?”

The question made your stomach drop. Having to talk to George about this makes you feel extremely queasy. George’s tears start to well even larger than before. He bites his bottom lip and looks down at his feet. He tells you, “At first, I saw you as just another girl. I thought you would be the same as the rest of the girls I have been with. Obviously I came to develop feelings for you, but I thought that if I just went about things like I usually do, the feelings would go away and I’d be on my way. But I realized afterwards that wasn’t the case with you. You were so different from the rest.”

Your heart sank hearing him admit to it all. You knew deep down this had always been his plan, you knew that he literally only saw you as an object from the start. However, there was an odd sense of relief that washed over you when he finally admitted to it all. Even though these were all your suspicions, hearing George confirm it all felt like you were finally coming to terms with everything. If anything, you actually had more respect for him.

You appreciate that he told you all of this. Looking back on the last couple months, you wished that you had allowed him to talk previously. This entire time he had tried desperately to tell you all of this and you just shot him down.

Not that you really regret it, though. At the time, you were very unstable with your emotions and you’re not too sure how the conversation would have gone down if he spoke with you weeks prior to today. Not only are you appreciative of the fact he was so honest, but hearing him say that he liked you back…it was like a dream come true. Never did you think he would ever like you the same way you did him.

You stayed silent, and apparently it was too long. George spoke again out of fear that he had scared you, frantically saying, “Please say something. I know you’re not happy with me, but I just need to hear-”

“I forgive you.” You blurt out.

It’s George's turn to fall silent now. Neither of you spoke for a period of time; how long exactly was unclear to you, but it felt too long. Assuming it’s your chance to try and save the conversation, you continue, “I know I’m probably crazy for this, but I forgive you. It takes a lot of courage to go up to a girl and admit that you screwed her over. I like that you were upfront with me about it all.”

Without missing a beat, George smiles harder and harder hearing you admit to your forgiveness. He takes a step forward with his arms open for a hug, but you immediately shoot him down. Placing a hand on his chest, you halt all movement. His entire face is struck with worry, and his mouth opens to apologize. You cut him off and say, “Just because I forgive, doesn’t mean I forget. You hurt me George. It absolutely crushed my soul when the person I thought was becoming my best friend used me and stole my virginity without a second glance. It sucked. That’s why I couldn’t even stand to look at you in the hallways or the classroom, let alone talk to you.”

Tears are welling in your eyes now. Your throat contracts the more you speak, and you have to stop because you know if you go any further it would just develop in a crying session. George nods his head and chokes back more tears, unable to prevent the shakiness in his voice.

“I-I feel like shit, Y/N. Every single day since I realized I fucked up, all I’ve wanted to do was talk to you about this. Like I said before, you deserve so much better. Thank you for forgiving me, though. I feel…better, now that I’ve talked to you about this.”

You smile and shove George’s shoulder in a playful manner, trying to ignore the burning in your eyes from all the tears. “No problem. Can we go eat now? I’m starving.”

George eyes you carefully as if he couldn’t believe what you had just said to him. If you had to be honest with yourself, you couldn’t either. However, now that the niceties were done and over with, you figured maybe starting over wouldn’t be such a bad idea with George. You can tell he’s genuinely sorry for all that he has done, and that he’s clearly changed drastically as a person (which you thought impossible for both Weasley twins).

Maybe dinner wouldn’t be such a bad idea after all. You definitely weren’t going to do anything else with George. It would be too soon for that. Maybe a quick bite to eat while catching up on one another's lives would be enough for you tonight. Enough closure after this mess of a conversation. After this, you can go back to just being yourself and not have to worry about him anymore.

“W-We? You want to have dinner with me?” George asks you carefully.

You shrug your shoulders and start to slowly walk towards the Great Hall, George trailing behind you like a lost puppy. You tell him, “I don’t think it would hurt. Just for tonight, though. I figure we have a little catching up to do.”

George can’t stop smiling like an idiot, and you can’t either. Your heart was beating rapidly again, but this time it wasn’t out of fear. It was out of happiness. You’re beyond excited that the two of you were talking again. Not that you planned on staying best of friends, but a mutual likeness should be enough to get you through the remainder of the school year. However, that is quite the opposite of what happens.

The rest of the winter, you and George started to say hi to one another in the hallway again. That transitioned into sitting with one another in the Great Hall, maybe only once or twice a week but it happened nonetheless. Eventually, you and George were talking on a daily basis. Your relationship was slowly reversing back to its old ways, except there was minimal flirting and absolutely no touching. You made sure to lay some ground rules with him once you realized you and George were getting close again.

He promised to respect your wishes, and he has listened graciously so far. Your boundaries were quite simple to follow, but given George’s track record, it was surprising to see him listen so well. All that you asked was to keep everything between the two of your friends only and nothing more. You felt that after all that had happened, it would be best for the both of you to strictly keep things “professional” and not try to rush into anything so soon.

There was no denying you still had feelings for him, and knowing that George liked you back made it hard to not flirt with him in any way. But deep down, you knew that this was for the better. You’d rushed into something with him once before and it had a horrible ending, therefore you couldn’t risk that again. However, things were definitely changing to say the least.

It was obvious in the way your conversations started to last longer than just a minute or so. When you and George graduated from the casual “hello” while in passing and began to have full length conversations again, you quickly realized he was just as whimsical as you had known him from the beginning of the year.

You could never lose a sense of wonder while in his presence. He always had something to tell you, or a funny story that kept you on the edge of your seat. It first occurred to you that you were definitely falling for him once again in the midst of watching George play a prank on Professor Snape during class (the poor guy did not expect his pants to catch on fire. For a split second he almost convinced himself it was the doing of Peeves once again, but realized by the smirk on George’s face that it was no other than the evil twin himself).

That prank could have gone so horribly wrong if Professor Snape hadn’t noticed the flame among his dress pants. And even with the understanding that George’s actions were devastatingly brutal and just downright mean, your stomach felt as though it might explode with laughter (that died very quickly thanks to the glare Snape shot at you).

Even when he used magic in wrongful ways, had a track record with girls a mile long, and had even used you for sex, there was something too forgiving in your nature to just let George go entirely. You realized that you wanted him in your life, either as a best friend or something more. There was something about him that brought you to life. The spark that was lit in your heart was only alive when he was around. You never wanted it to go out, and so you soon realized you never wanted to let him go again.

In your eyes, even with all the mistakes he has made, George enclosed you in a space that left you wanting more. It wasn’t like you were trapped; you weren’t drowning in insufferable conversations or anything of the sort, you absolutely loved his company. You didn’t realize just how much you actually missed it until he started coming around again.

On top of all this realization, there was the fact he had changed considerably as a dear friend. He was much more careful in the way he spoke or acted around you. He wanted to respect your boundaries and never put your relationship at risk again. This is what made you appreciate him so much.

However, there was an obvious change in the atmosphere amongst you two during the springtime.

Winter had come and gone, your conversations were still lively as ever though. Just a couple weeks prior, he had begun walking you to your next class after potions together. It was during one particular day that sparked a sudden change in both your demeanors.

After class, you and George were walking down the corridors together just talking about the upcoming assignments and what you thought would be the best strategy for studying (George needed the advice given his history of failing horribly). While walking, a group of first-years were running amuck in the hallways, nearly trampling over you in the process of it all. Loud yells and feet clamoring against the stone floors filled your ears, your eyes barely having time to process how to avoid all the commotion.

George, however, had thought far ahead of you and made sure to wrap his arm around your shoulder and shield you from the upcoming blows of young, immature eleven-year-olds. He pulled your body in towards his own, protecting you for that brief moment of chaos.

Your body felt like it was exploding from his touch, immediately sobering you up and pulling you from your crazy thoughts. You looked up at George as soon as all the commotion had died down, and he looked down at you. Your mouth felt like it was going slack as you stood there completely frozen under his arm. George bores holes in your eyes, staring at you as if silently asking if this kind of action was allowed within your boundaries.

Without having to hear him say anything, you say, “It’s fine.”

The two of you continued walking down the hallway, talking as though nothing had happened. However, something did happen. It was the start of something new.

For the remainder of that walk to your next period, George kept his arm wrapped around your body as though you were his girl. It struck you as an extraordinary situation that left you dumbfounded for days on end.

First, you couldn’t get over the fact that he did it in the first place. Second, you couldn’t get over the fact that you let it happen. Now would not be a great time to fall back into old habits. You weren’t ready for anything explicit with George just yet. However, at the same time, you liked how protective he was being. You enjoyed having his arm around you. In a weird way, you felt safer. You craved…more.

That strange shift in the air between you two never really left. It only lingered, and continued to emphasize the more the two of you hung out. After that fateful day in the beginning of March, the day that really started to change your relationship with George once again, each week there was a designated day where the two of you just spent time with one another.

While you didn’t know for sure if this meant your relationship with George was developing outside of a friendship, you knew in your heart that it was probably a good sign of something heading towards that direction. If you were able to tolerate his conversations in the hallways from time to time, you had enough courage to be with him in a more secluded setting. This is what began the scheduled meetings once every week where the two of you would simply do homework or sit around and read books.

That same feeling of rapid heartbeats and butterflies in your stomach always came back in full swing the moment you two were together. It gave you flashbacks to that day out in the meadow where he swept you off your feet in an instant. While that memory used to leave you frustrated beyond belief, you could now thankfully say that you don’t fully regret doing what you did with George. You could now tell yourself that it was all just a lesson you had to come and learn the hard way.

The lesson in question? Don’t rush.

George’s arm always found its way around you while the two of you hung out, but it never furthered past that. It would happen at any given point. If there was an opportunity that arose, he would do anything to make sure he could place his arm around you in a protective manner. And it would stay there the remainder of the time you two hung out.

No one ever commented on the matter, not even you, which led George to believe that it was okay to continue doing so. It definitely was, in your book.

It’s late April now, months since you and George finally reconnected again and were practically best of friends. The two of you were sitting on a bench in a random hallway somewhere in Hogwarts. Being in different houses meant you could not be in one another’s common rooms. This was the best you could get, but it was comfortable enough.

You sat next to George while his arm was wrapped around your shoulders. You leaned into his touch, reading from your book about fantastic beasts and where to find them. George had just finished making a joke about the appearance of this one animal in the book, and it had you giggling beyond belief. You look up at George, eyes full of happiness and excitement. He looks back down at you, smiling hard.

George enjoys taking you by surprise. He leaves you wanting more from him and fills your chest with warmth. You weren't sure precisely what it was that you wanted more of, but you were certain that you didn't want this moment to stop. The expression caught in his eyes was pure protectiveness. You felt protected not just by his arm enveloping you, but also by the expression on his face as he gazed back at you. You felt comfortable and secure with him because of the way he looked at you. It was as if he was silently telling you that he genuinely wanted you for you.

Suddenly, while taking a glance at your lips, he's asking you, “Can I take you out on a date, Y/N? Like, a proper one. I feel like I owe that to you after all I’ve done.”

In an instant, you’re blushing like mad. Your heart is beating so fast, you’re smiling before you even realize it. You just nod your head, telling him, “Yes, I’d really like that, George. Thank you.”

He doesn’t respond with words, merely gives you a quick squeeze and looks back at the book you were reading, silently encouraging you to finish the chapter you started earlier.

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